ARIA ⭑

It really was a sight to see. 

Your best friend pressed up against your boyfriend like they’d invented the concept of gravity, her hands shamelessly roaming under the hem of his shirt while his mouth dragged along the line of her neck. 

No shame, not even a flicker of it. To the drunk, sweating crowd around them, it probably just looked like another hazy corner of the party—two bodies tangled in the dim lights, music blasting so loud it swallowed any guilt, if they cared to harbour any that is, but you saw everything.

To be more precise, you found out yesterday when they got bold enough to fuck each other at your boyfriend’s apartment, and oblivious enough to not notice your presence, or your low chuckle at the depravity of the situation. Instead of feeling mad, you felt that bone deep numbness. Why trust anyone at this point?

Emotionally unavailable, the label had never sounded so accurate, but was it truly your fault when you never felt the need to expect anything from him? It certainly was an experience faking your orgasms for him, but you cared on the deeper levels—well, till you found him balls deep inside your now ex best friend. 

So you sat there now on the worn leather couch, legs crossed, drink dangling from your fingers, watching them like it was just another Tuesday night show.

“Oh hey—you’re here! Have you seen Mina?” 

The voice cut through the haze of music and chatter, slightly breathless. You turned your head slowly, lashes lowering just a fraction as your gaze landed on Heeseung.

He stood a few feet away, tall and striking even in the crowd, dark maroon hair tousled like he’d rushed all the way here. His sharp jaw was tense, brows drawn together in mild confusion as he scanned the room. The leather jacket hanging off his broad shoulders caught the shifting lights, and for a moment, you wondered how he’d react to the news of his girlfriend in the arms of his best friend. 

You tilted your head, lips curving into a slow, amused smile that didn’t quite reach your eye, 

“yeah,” you said, voice smooth as you clicked your tongue, “right over there.”

You lifted your glass in a lazy gesture toward the corner, and Heeseung followed your line of sight. The shift in his expression was immediate and downright visceral. His eyes widened, pupils blown with disbelief as he took in the scene of Mina’s leg hooked shamelessly around his best friend’s hip, her mouth pressed to the underside of his jaw while his hands roamed with practiced familiarity. 

The way they moved together spoke of stolen nights and secret touches—months, maybe longer.

“They’re cheating,” you added lightly, almost conversationally, as if commenting on the weather as you took a slow sip from your drink, “bold choice, doing it in plain sight like this. Guess they figured neither of us would actually show up tonight—I mean, I did mention I wouldn’t.”

Heeseung’s adam’s apple bobbed visible, a flash of hurt brewed behind his eyes, before it ignited this anger within him, “what the fuck—” the words slipped out rather hoarse, broken. 

He didn’t really look at you, eyes locked on them as if he couldn’t look away. Before you could say anything else, he was moving, pushing through the dense crowd with single-minded intensity. You watched his retreating back for a moment, that same curiosity curling in your chest. It would’ve been a sight to stay and watch the fireworks, sure, but you just got up. 

You wove through the crowd without hurry, heels clicking softly up the narrow wooden stairs, each step carrying you farther from the mess downstairs.

The upstairs hallway was dimmer, and at the end of it, the balcony door was wide open, letting the night air slip in. You stepped outside, pulling a cigarette from the pack tucked in your jacket, lips closing around it as you flicked your lighter. 

First drag hit deep, filling your lungs with that bitter, familiar burn. You leaned against the railing, letting the smoke curl out slow between your parted lips, eyes half-lidded against the wind tugging at your hair.

For a minute, everything felt almost peaceful, comfortable even, then the door scraped open behind you, and Heeseung stepped out, breathing hard like he’d run the whole way up. His hair was messier now, dark burgundy strands falling into his eyes, and his face—god, his face was a wreck. Eyes glassy with everything he was trying not to feel, cheeks flushed, mouth pressed into a thin, angry line.

Without asking, he closed the distance in two long strides and plucked it right from your lips.

A surprised little chuckle slipped out of you before you could stop it, and you observed how he took a deep, shaky drag from where your lipstick had stained the cigarette, holding it in for long before he blew the smoke up toward the dark sky. His free hand gripped the railing tight enough that his knuckles went white. 

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, voice rough, “how long? Just—tell me how long they’ve been doing this behind our backs.”

“Since at least yesterday,” you said, “I walked in on them fucking in his dorm, didn’t even have the decency to lock the door,” a faint smile ghosted your lips, “I just closed it again and left.”

Heeseung’s head turned toward you slowly, eyes wide with shock, the cigarette nearly slipping from his fingers, “you saw them and didn’t say shit?”

You shrugged, “what was there to say? They wanted each other, and I’ve never been the type to drown myself that deeply anyway. It just felt odd to see Mina do it, that part did affect me, years of friendship drowned for what? A guy.”

Heeseung let out a disbelieving huff, running a hand through his already tousled hair, “Jaemin was my best friend, man. We’ve been tight since freshman year—shared everything. And now this?” His voice cracked slightly, “feels like a fucking knife in the back from both sides. They looked guilty for a second but didn’t even bother following me here to explain themselves, though they did have the audacity to ask me not to tell you.”

You studied him for a moment through his ramble, the way the balcony light cast sharp shadows across his sharp jaw and the pained lines around his eyes. He looked devastatingly undone, yet there was something resilient in the way he stood there, refusing to crumble completely. The sight stirred a spark in your chest—that familiar free-spirited curiosity. 

You passed the cigarette back to him after a puff, “people reveal their true colors eventually. It’s pragmatic to accept it and keep moving instead of letting it rot you from the inside.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with shared betrayal. Heeseung took another drag, then offered it back, his gaze lingering on your face with astute observation, like he was trying to peel back the layers of your calm detachment, he just couldn’t understand how you seemed so—unaffected?

You crushed the cigarette against the railing and flicked it into the night. That proactive restlessness bloomed brighter inside you, eyes gleaming with mischievous insight.

“Wanna do something fun?” You asked. 

Heeseung blinked, lips parting in surprise, “fun? Like right now?”

“Mhm,” you stepped closer, “are you okay with a kiss, Heeseung?”

His breath hitched audibly, throat bobbing, “a—a kiss?” The word came out hoarse, almost stunned. His gaze dropped to your mouth, lingering, before snapping back up, cheeks flushing darker, “you serious?”

“Very,” you held his stare, “yes or no?”

“Isn’t that cheating?” He looked devastatingly clueless even mumbling that question, and you raised your brow. 

“Yes or no?” You asked again. 

He searched your face, the raw pain still churning, but something hungrier kindled beneath it—curiosity. After a beat, he gave one slow nod making you chuckle.

You took his hand and led him back down into the party’s suffocating crowd, and he followed without asking any questions. In the corner, Jaemin and Mina were still shamelessly entangled, her arms looped around his neck, his hands possessive on her hips.

You stepped straight into their space without hesitation, grabbing Jaemin’s arm to pull him back. 

The sharp crack of your palm across Jaemin’s cheek echoed through the room, his head whipped sideways. Mina stumbled back with a gasp as the crowd around you froze, then erupted in murmurs and the bright flare of phone screens.

“What the fuck?” Jaemin snarled, clutching his reddening face, eyes blazing the instant recognition hit, “w—wait, Y/N?” 

Mina’s face drained of color, “we—we didn’t think you would show up tonight—”

You desperately wanted to laugh, but you maintained your character, cause how were they dumb enough to think that you wouldn’t find out, especially when Heeseung did too. 

“Clearly,” you said, getting ready to lie beautifully, “Heeseung told me everything. How long have you two been fucking behind our backs?”

Whispers exploded outward. Jaemin fumbled for excuses, mouth opening uselessly.

“I didn’t expect this from you Mina,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek as tears started forming in her eyes.

“No—listen to me, we didn’t—”

“Whatever,” you continued, a crystalline laugh escaping you, “be happy with each other, I’ll find someone better.”

You turned away from their frozen faces, and Heeseung stood right there, looking completely wrecked. Your eyes met his, like really met them. For a second everything else including the stares, the phones, the bass—faded into background noise.

He looked at you like you were the only person left in the room, and maybe to him, you were. 

You stepped in close, sliding your hands up his chest. His heart was pounding under your palms, doe eyes full of trust and anticipation for what was to come. Heeseung’s breath caught, but he didn’t move away. His hands found your waist almost on instinct, fingers spreading wide and warm through your clothes, before pressing in to hold on tighter. 

His gaze dropped to your mouth before flicking back up, nodding slightly as he understood the question you asked him earlier. 

Which is why you tilted your head and kissed him.

You slotted your lips against his rather softly, just to test him at first. His mouth was warm, faintly tasting of smoke and the drink he’d had earlier. He froze for half a second, stunned at the easiness of it all, then let out this quiet, broken sound against your lips and kissed you back. 

The kiss turned deeper fast, hungrier. Your tongue brushed his and he groaned low in his throat, the vibration rolling straight through you. You slid one hand into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands, while the other stayed fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer. Heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened almost painfully so, one arm wrapping further around your back to press you flush against him. His chest rose and fell hard against yours. You could feel every shaky breath, the way his fingers trembled just slightly where they dug into your sides.

It was messy, a little desperate. Tongues sliding, breaths mixing hot and uneven, the faint wet sound of it somehow louder than the music behind. He kissed like he was pouring every bit of hurt and anger and sudden want into you as you took it all, giving the same right back.

When you finally pulled back just enough to breathe, Heeseung was completely gone. Lips swollen and shiny, chest heaving like he couldn’t catch his breath, eyes dark and hazy like his brain had short-circuited. A wrecked little sound slipped out of him, half-gasp, half-groan—as he stared at you, dazed and breathing hard.

Your smile embodied satisfaction as you leaned in again and pressed one slow, teasing peck to his parted lips, letting it linger just enough to make his breath hitch all over again.

Jaemin and Mina were staring like they’d seen a ghost with their jaws dropped, faces pale, eyes wide with pure disbelief. The whole party had gone dead quiet around you, everyone watching, phones still pointed your way like this was the best drama they’d seen all year (it probably was).

You laced your fingers with Heeseung’s, gave his hand a light squeeze, and tugged him toward the door.

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmured close to his ear, voice low and a little playful against his skin.

Heeseung didn’t argue, just followed, still breathing hard, fingers gripping yours tight as the door swung shut behind you. 

The cool night air hit your heated skin, and for the first time tonight, everything felt wide open again.

A rather loud screech right next to your left ear woke you up, and you wondered if the world had somehow been corrupted by zombies because there’s no other explanation for such sounds, but your friend made it possible somehow. 

You jolted, heart kicking once before your brain caught up. Sunoo was practically jumping beside your bed, phone in his hand, “one time—one single time I decide to stay in and catch up on sleep and you create a fucking scene? Gosh, babe.”

Winter shoved the door the rest of the way open with her shoulder, hoodie sleeves pushed up to her elbows, hair still a wild mess from her deep sleep. She planted herself at the foot of your bed, arms crossed, eyes narrowing at you, “fuck, Y/N,” she said before her tone got softer, “are you okay? I fucking knew that girl was a snake from the first time she came over. And your boyfriend? I always hated him, al-fucking-ways.”

You were still blinking, eyes half open and not willing to adjust to the brightness. Right then, a chuckle escaped your lips at the memory of last night—and you tried to remember the last time you felt so satisfied (maybe never?). 

Sunoo dropped onto the edge of your mattress without waiting, “I always said we are your besties. The kind who’d help you hide a body, no questions asked. Ride or die, baby.”

You sat up straight, blanket pooling around your waist, and opened your arms because of course they were right, “come here, idiots.”

They didn’t hesitate, Winter climbing on first, wrapping her arms around you like she could shield you from the whole damn world. Sunoo piled on top a second later, all limbs and very dramatic sighs, squishing the three of you into a tangled heap of familiar warmth. 

“Yeah,” you murmured into Sunoo’s shoulder, voice muffled, “you two are stuck with me.”

Winter huffed a soft laugh against your neck, “good, because we’re not letting you deal with that snake ex-bestie and cheating ex-boyfriend shit alone. We’re burning that chapter together.”

Sunoo’s voice came out muffled too, “and—we’re keeping the video forever, that kiss looked cozy girl, what else did you do—”

You let yourself sink into the warmth for a long moment, the bone-deep numbness from yesterday easing just enough to let something real and grateful slip through. The sting of Mina’s betrayal was still there, but it felt distant now—almost coherent in its simplicity. 

People drift apart, friendships end. You’d always known that. What intrigued you more was how easily these two could make the weight feel lighter, their amiable chaos wrapping around you like a promise that some things indeed were here to stay. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung was suffering. 

Jay had shoved his phone into Heeseung’s face, close enough for him to make out, uh, absolutely nothing. It seemed like a blurry mess of lights until Jay yanked it back to show Heeseung a pixel version of you grabbing his jacket and pulling him into what appeared to be a passionate kiss. 

The angle caught the exact moment his hands found your waist, the way his shoulders had tensed then eased up all at once. Heeseung’s ears burned red so fast it felt like someone had lit a match under his skin.

“Bro,” Jay said, grinning, “the video is everywhere, especially on the uni insta page for students. Someone made it into a trend—it’s actually insane.”

Before Heeseung could even form a coherent thought, the bedroom door slammed open hard enough to rattle the frame, scaring both the boys. 

Jake came barreling in, hair still sticking up from sleep, eyes wild, “you bitch—you kissed Y/N? She’s mine—I called dibs on her months ago!”

Heeseung groaned, dragging both hands down his face, “she’s not an object, Jake.”

“Oh fuck you—you know I like her,” Jake shot back, dropping on his knees. 

Sunghoon strolled in next, casual as ever, one shoulder propped against the wall. He let out a low whistle and Heeseung wondered what the fuck is wrong with his friends, “so you’re what? Dating now? That was one hell of a plot twist.”

Jay sniggered, not even trying to hide it, “nah dude, you think he can handle someone like Y/N?”

Jake tried to butt in again, “I can—” but the rest of them talked right over him like usual.

Heeseung sat up slowly, the full reminder of the last night coming right back to him. The slap echoing through the room, the way you’d looked at him right before you kissed him, eyes bright with that reckless spark. The way he’d kissed you back like he enjoyed it. He swallowed hard, throat tight.

“Did I cheat on Mina?” He asked quietly.

The room went still for half a second, all three of them looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Jay let out a disbelieving laugh, “she cheated on you while you were still together.”

“Yeah but I kissed someone else literally a few minutes later—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon cut in, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Heeseung stared at the blanket pooled over his lap, replaying the kiss again—the heat of your mouth, the way your fingers had twisted in his hair, that soft, teasing peck you pressed to his lips after. It had been the best kiss he’d ever had. The whole situation felt far too complicated for the simple labels his friends were throwing arounf, and yet he couldn’t stop the memory from looping behind his eyes.

Jay sighed, softer this time, leaning back on his elbows, “did it feel good?”

They all looked at him. Heeseung didn’t answer right away, he just swallowed again, the memory burning behind his eyes like it refused to fade.

You on the other hand were absolutely not functioning when Sunoo had a trillion questions lined up for you—all of which consisted of Heeseung. You three had just managed to make coffees when the loud knock interrupted you. A sigh was all you could manage as you opened the door to find your pathetic excuse of an ex standing there with—roses? Wow, he didn’t even have the decency to remember that you were allergic. 

He spoke up before you could, “I know i deserved that slap.”

Well, obviously. 

“I messed up—I swear I don’t want her.” He was looking at you with that pout he mustered whenever you both had disagreements. 

You bit down your laugh, “yeah? So?”

“Take me back, baby, please?”

Right then someone flew past the door, and your mouth hung open as Sunoo straight up landed a kick on Jaemin’s thigh, resulting in him falling down with pain. Now, you laughed freely as Sunoo bent down to warn him, “stay away from her, okay?”

Jaemin turned to look at you, eyes wide, “what—”

“You heard him, we’re over, Jaemin,” you shrugged, wrapping your arm around Sunoo as you both walked inside, Sunoo glaring at man till the door closed shut. 

Jaemin stayed on the ground for a few more seconds, roses scattered around him, a thorn making him bleed just enough for him to roll his eyes.

That went well.

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the leaves of the uni garden, casting dappled shadows across the wooden bench where you sat. It had been three days since the party, and the campus still hadn’t let either of you forget it. Random students kept approaching you in the hallways, the library, even the coffee line—some offering awkward condolences, others straight-up calling the slap and the kiss badass with wide-eyed admiration. 

You sipped your mango matcha slowly, the garden was quiet now, just the distant hum of students walking between buildings and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. You felt normal, jolly even, like it hadn’t affected you, but even you couldn’t deny how good of a kiss it had been. 

Too lost in the pdf in your iPad, you didn’t notice Heeseung approaching until his shadow fell across your lap. He stopped a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, hair still slightly messy and he somehow made it look good.

“Hey,” he said, voice polite as it had always been, “can we talk?”

You looked up, lips curving into an amiable smile, “sure, c’mere sit,” you patted the empty space beside you on the bench and held out your mango matcha toward him, “want some? It’s good.”

Heeseung only cocked his brow, “same straw?”

You blinked innocently, “you’re saying that as if we didn’t make out in front of the entire party three days ago.”

He stared at you for a moment, intrigued cause of your carefree answer, before he reached out and took the cup anyway. He drank without hesitation, the straw brushing his lips where yours had been moments ago, and when he lowered it, the corner of his mouth twitched.

You chuckled, watching the way his shoulders loosened just a fraction, “so—talk, what’s on your mind, Heeseung?”

He handed the cup back, fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary, “I’ve been thinking about that night. A lot.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but his eyes stayed on yours, “the kiss, the way you just handled everything. I keep replaying it and I can’t make it make sense.”

You tilted your head, taking another slow sip before answering, “what’s there to make sense of? They cheated, we both saw it. I decided not to let it ruin my night and you were there. The kiss happened—simple.”

He let out a short, disbelieving breath, running a hand through his hair, “It’s not simple for me. Mina was my girlfriend, Jaemin was my best friend since freshman year. And so much happened in like—an hour,” he paused, eyes searching your face, “did it really not mess with you at all?”

You shrugged, “It stung a little actually. Losing Mina as a friend after all those years felt kinda—odd? But drowning in it? Not really my thing.” Your lips curved again, “i’ve never been the type to hand my whole heart over and expect it to stay put.”

Heeseung watched you for a long moment, “you make it sound so coherent,” he muttered, almost to himself, “like it’s all just—logical. Meanwhile I’ve been walking around campus getting stopped by random people asking if we’re together now. It’s been three days and I still feel like my head’s spinning.”

You laughed lightly, “same here, a guy offered to buy me coffee because I deserved better, It’s weirdly entertaining.”

Heeseung’s mouth twitched into a half-smile, the first real one you’d seen from him today, “yeah, even my friend Jake was sort of, how do I even put it? But yeah, he wasn’t thrilled, hes got some crush on you.” 

Your eyes sparkled, “wait, isn’t he the cute one with an accent? I like him.”

He shook his head at how you would probably encourage Jake, the thought was rather unsettling, then looked at you again, more serious, “but, y’know—the kiss, that part wasn’t just for show.”

That made you pause for a moment, and you held his gaze, intrigued by the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to figure out how someone could be so calm in the middle of the wreckage.

“So what are you saying?” You asked, voice soft but direct, “you regret it?”

“No,” he answered almost immediately, “I don’t regret it, that’s the problem. It felt good and I keep wondering what the hell that means when everything else is such a mess.”

You leaned back against the bench, letting the sun warm your face for a second, “it doesn’t have to mean anything big, I mean—we both got screwed over.” You watched how pretty he looked under the sunlight, lips slightly red cause he’d been biting them, “maybe we don’t overthink it. Maybe we just—just see where it goes.”

Heeseung took the cup again, fingers brushing yours once more, and this time he didn’t pull away right away, “you’re really okay with that?”

You smiled, “I’m okay with a lot of things, Heeseung. Especially if they feel good.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The conversation didn’t need to be solved today, for now, sitting here with him, sharing the same straw and the same tension, felt like enough.

Heeseung has always been a man of few words, but even those little words seemed to disappear when you were around. And the worst part? You weren’t even aware of it.

You weren’t the one to intrude on anyone’s personal space, and that included Heeseung, much to his relief (or dismay?), he was just—confused.

A week had slipped by since the garden talk, and the quiet tension between you two had only grown heavier. He’d spent the days avoiding Mina’s messages, the knot in his chest tightening every time her name appeared. But you—you were everywhere. In literature class you sat three rows ahead, never together, but he stared. He couldn’t stop noticing the way the light caught the curve of your neck when you leaned over your notes, the soft way your fingers tapped the edge of your pen, the small, absent smile that played on your lips when something in the lecture amused you. Every stolen glance left him more tangled than the last.

Tonight the restlessness had won. He pulled on a hoodie and walked to the 24-hour convenience store near the dorms, craving something mindless like his ride or die—ramen to quiet the noise in his head.

The annoyingly white lights buzzed overhead as he stepped inside, grabbing a basket and turning down the snack aisle, mind still half-lost in yesterday’s class when you’d stretched and your shirt had ridden up just enough to—

He stopped just then, cause you were right there,

standing in the middle of the aisle in soft pink pajama shorts that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs and a matching oversized hoodie that had slipped off one shoulder, you looked unfairly soft and warm, like you’d just rolled out of bed. Your hair was a little messy, and you were reaching up for a pack of strawberry gummies, the hem of the shorts riding higher with the movement.

Heeseung’s mouth went dry, and he wanted to slap himself for acting like a fucking creep.

You turned at the sound of his footsteps, eyes meeting his across the narrow aisle. A slow smile curved your lips, the same one that had been haunting him for days.

“Hey,” you waved at him, like running into each other at midnight in pajamas was the most normal thing in the world, “couldn’t sleep either?”

Heeseung swallowed, stepping closer despite the way his pulse kicked up. The faint scent of your shampoo clinging to your hair, “needed ramen, the boys emptied the fridge I swear,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

You nodded in understanding, “same lowkey—was staring at the ceiling but then decided to get out.” You tilted your head, looking at him a little closer, eyes tracing the tired lines on his face, “you look like you’ve got a lot going on up there. Want to talk about it while we walk back?”

Heeseung hesitated for half a second, then nodded, “yeah, sounds good.”

You paid for your stuff together, the cashier barely glancing up, and stepped back out into the cool night air. The walk was easy at first, with absolutely no words being exchanged, your shoulders brushed every few steps, Heeseung kept his hands in his pockets, but he could feel the warmth of you next to him, the soft brush of your hoodie sleeve against his every time you shifted.

“Been a week,” he said after a few minutes, “Mina keeps texting, and of course I haven’t answered. It feels weird ignoring her, but answering would feel worse.”

You hummed, glancing at him sideways, “I get that. Sometimes the easiest thing is just to let it sit there until it stops stinging, y’know?” Your arm bumped his again as you walked, and you didn’t pull away, “you holding up okay with all of it?”

He just nodded, granting you a smile which made the corner of your lips lift up too, and he asked you the same, to which you laughed as if nothing had even happened. 

It was so nice just walking beside you, even in silence, at this cursed hour of midnight, though Heeseung would argue and say that he felt more awake now than he did the whole day. 

The dorm buildings came into view too soon, but then Heeseung saw something that made his steps falter on the pavement, body going rigid right beside you. It made you follow his line of sight, and of course—Mina was there, walking straight towards his building, head down and mind completely focused on her phone. She hadn’t noticed you yet, but it was clear that she was going to approach Heeseung. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, panic flashing across his features in a way you could feel it reach you too.

Before you could provide him with two words of comfort, his hand slid around your waist, fingers spreading wide and warm through the thin fabric of your hoodie. He pulled you in close, so close that your side pressed flush against his, the heat of his body juxtaposing the chill of the air. His palm was steady but his fingers trembled a little against your hip as you caught the faint scent of his cologne, it was clean and woody, just how you liked it. 

“Play along, please?” He whispered urgently against your ear, voice rougher now.

You only chuckled, leaning into him as if you’d done it before, slipping your arm around his back, fingers resting lightly against the small of his back. Your head tilted up towards him, a soft smile curving up as you looked at him. Heeseung was flushed cause, damn were you good at acting. 

“Got it,” you murmured back.

Mina looked up at the exact moment, eyes widened at the sight, a gasp leaving her lips as she watched Heeseung’s hand slide lower on your back as you reached his dorm door.

You didn’t even realize you were biting your bottom lip until Heeseung’s gaze dropped straight to it, his breath hitched, thumb pausing on your cheek as his other hand came up to cup your face, warm palms cradling your jaw like he was afraid you might pull away.

“Can I?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching yours.

You didn’t answer, just leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and pulled him into the kiss.

Your lips met his softly at first and Heeseung made a quiet sound against your mouth, his hands cupping your face fully now, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as he kissed you back. The taste of him was faint, a hint of the cherry juice he must have had earlier. Your own hands slid up his chest, fisting lightly in his hoodie as you tilted your head to kiss him a little deeper.

When you finally pulled back, Heeseung’s eyes were dark and a little dazed, lips parted and cheeks flushed. His thumbs were still stroking your cheeks, reluctant to let go.

Mina stood frozen a few feet away, face pale, cause she swore to herself it was an act, but this? It didn’t seem like one. 

Heeseung didn’t look at her, just tightening his grip on your waist and guided you through the door, pulling you inside with him. The warmth of his palm stayed glued to the small of your back the whole way, steady now, like he needed the contact to stay grounded.

Inside the apartment, Jake was sprawled on the couch in the living room, a half-eaten pizza box open on the coffee table, some mindless show playing low on the TV. He froze mid-bite when he saw you, eyes going wide.

You smiled, bright and completely at ease, like showing up at this hour with Heeseung’s arm still around you was the most normal thing in the world, “oh—hey. Jake, right?”

“Y/N? Uh yes—hi, you’re here?” Jake stuttered, making Hee roll his eyes.

You just walked over to him, dropping onto the couch beside him acting all normal though your heartbeat said otherwise, “yeah! Mind if I steal a bite?”

Jake blinked, then grinned like an idiot and lifted the slice he was holding right to your mouth, “here, go for it.”

You leaned in and took a bite straight from his hand, cheese stretching between your fingers as you chewed, “mhm, this is actually good, thanks.”

Jake’s face lit up even more, “right? You can have the whole slice if you want.”

Heeseung stood there watching the whole thing, jaw tight. He lasted about five seconds before he groaned low in his throat, “alright, that’s enough.” He crossed the room in two quick strides, caught your wrist gently but firmly, and tugged you up from the couch, “c’mon.”

You let him pull you up, giving Jake a little wave over your shoulder, “night, Jakey. Thanks for the pizza.”

Jake just waved back, still grinning, “anytime!”

The second Heeseung’s door clicked shut behind you, silence filled the room—it was dim, lit only by the desk lamp, the air suddenly too warm and too small. Heeseung’s back pressed against the door, eyes dark and fixed on you before he walked over and plopped on his bed. 

You clicked your tongue, tilting your head at him, “now she’s gonna think we’re dating.”

Heeseung rubbed a hand over his face, looking genuinely sorry, “yeah—I know. I’m so sorry—I just panicked and pulled you into this whole thing. You didn’t have to go along with it.”

You shrugged, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. Then, without warning, you turned and sat right down on his lap, straddling his thighs like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heeseung’s breath caught, hands instinctively landing on your hips to steady you, eyes wide with surprise.

“I did kiss you first at the party,” you said, “so it’s kinda my fault too.”

Heeseung’s fingers flexed on your hips, holding you there. He gulped, throat bobbing visibly as he looked up at you, “so, now what?” he asked, voice rough.

You shrugged again, still sitting comfortably on his lap, fingers playing with the collar of his hoodie, “it’s your call, Hee.”

You kept talking as Heeseung pondered deeply about his choices. He didn’t register you saying something about how Jake’s face was priceless because Heeseung wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes had dropped to the exposed line of your clavicle where your hoodie had slipped down, tracing the smooth skin there, then moving up to your lips—still a little shiny from the greasy pizza, slightly parted as you spoke. The way you were sitting on him, the soft weight of you on his thighs—it was too stimulating for him. 

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in and kissed you hard, mouth practically crashing into yours, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, the other staying firm on your hip to keep you right where you were. There was nothing hesitant about it this time—it was hungry, deep. His tongue brushed yours, and he groaned quietly into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips. You could feel the way his fingers tightened in your hair, the way his chest rose and fell fast against yours, the way his body reacted instantly to having you on his lap like this.

You kissed him back just as hard, hands sliding up his chest to fist in his hoodie. A soft moan slipped out of you when he sucked on your bottom lip, and Heeseung made this low, wrecked sound in response, hips shifting under you.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth, barely pulling back, “this okay? Tell me if you want to stop.”

You shook your head, lips brushing his as you answered, voice already breathy, “don’t stop—keep going.”

He groaned and kissed you harder, tongue sliding against yours as one hand slid under your hoodie, palm warm on your bare back. You rocked your hips down against him and he moaned into your mouth, the sound raw.

You pulled back just enough to speak, forehead resting against his, “we doing this then?” You breathed against his lips, “no strings, just whenever we want or need?”

Heeseung swore you could read minds, “yeah,” he sighed in pleasure, “I want that—you and me, no strings.”

You smiled against his lips and kissed him again, deeper, grinding down slowly, “good fucking boy.”

He groaned louder, the sound vibrating through you as his fingers dug into your thighs, “shit—I’ve been so fucking pent up,” he muttered between kisses, hips rolling up to meet yours, “all week because of you.”

You moaned softly, rocking against him again with a chuckle, “that’s adorable, keep going, yeah? Don’t stop.”

He flipped you suddenly, laying you on your back and settling between your thighs. The new position made you both moan—the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, lips chasing yours mindlessly as his tongue slid against yours, hand tracing higher under your hoodie, hips grinding down slowly. 

“God, you feel good,” he muttered, pulling you down for another kiss.

You nodded, moaning softly into his mouth, “so do you.”

The room filled with the sounds of lips, heavy breathing, and quiet moans as you kept moving together, hands roaming, bodies pressing closer. The conversation faded into breathy words and soft sounds between kisses, and honestly, both of you didn’t care about much anymore. You both were just two horny adults functioning on a verbal agreement with no rules whatsoever. 

Outside in the living room, Jake had just taken another bite of pizza when the first loud moan drifted through the door. His eyes widened with betrayal—the slice slipping from his fingers and landed cheese-side down on the floor with a pathetic splat.

He stared at the closed door for a long second, mouth still full.

“Well—shit.”

You didn’t know that the consequences of spending one night with Heeseung could be so dire, granted you didn’t go beyond some innocent humping which bestowed you with the absolute pleasure of seeing Heeseung desperate and flushed underneath you. 

The question bugged you—why would Mina even wish to leave such a beautiful man who’s very willing to provide pleasure? 

You were still turning that over in your head as you walked down the hallway, iPad tucked under your arm, one AirPod in, but your mind was elsewhere—which was odd considering you never were the kind to just stand and ponder about random things, during the day time at least. The last time it happened was when you were a kid and Zayn had left One direction. 

Regardless, you chuckled at the idea of Heeseung being the one to garner your attention, since you never saw him in that light before—something about friends’ partners being inanimate to you. Either way, you started walking back towards your dorm since the lectures were over, only to be stopped by Mina blocking your path with a scowl on her face. 

You raised an eyebrow, “hey?” 

“We need to talk,” she huffed, looking rather tired, maybe with the way people stopped the second they sensed any drama, and why wouldn’t they? You both were the centre of it given the circumstances. 

“Do we really?” You gave her a lazy look, knowing well it bothered her. 

Her jaw clenched. “You kissed Heeseung. In front of everyone. While he was still with me.”

A couple more heads turned. You could feel eyes on you now, phones probably already sliding out of pockets.

You let out a short breath, almost a laugh, “while he was still with you? That’s rich. Last time I checked, you were the one fucking my boyfriend in his dorm with the door wide open. I walked in on you two, actually. So maybe don’t lecture me about cheating.”

Mina’s cheeks flushed, “that’s not the same—”

“It kind of is,” you cut in, keeping your voice even, “Heeseung didn’t deserve to find out like that, neither of us did, but at least I didn’t sneak around for months like a coward. And yeah, I kissed him—I’d do it again. He’s too good for the way you two treated him.”

Mina’s eyes flashed with anger, “you’re no better than me. You basically cheated too—”

“Bro, are you actually serious right now?”

A tall guy with messy black hair and a skateboard tucked under his arm stepped out from the edge of the crowd. You’d seen him around in a couple electives. He looked Mina up and down, completely unimpressed, having seen the scene at the party in flesh too. 

“Everyone’s seen the video,” he said, loud enough that the people nearby nodded, “I literally saw you and Jaemin at the party. You’re the one who cheated, leave her alone.”

A girl a few feet away nodded like she agreed. Mina glanced around at all the stares, lips pressed tight, then spun on her heel and shoved through the crowd, practically running toward the exit.

You let out a real laugh this time, almost like you couldn’t believe this was real, that your own friend would turn against you in such a manner. Riki turned to you, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Damn,” he said, “that was satisfying.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, still chuckling as you started walking again, “thanks for stepping in. You really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you, “she’s been trying to change the perception, i saw her lying to my friend earlier. Someone had to say it. I’m Riki by the way, or Ni-ki, whatever.”

“Y/N,” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly, “seriously, I owe you a coffee for that.”

“Bet,” he smirked, already pulling his phone out, “just text me whenever. I’m free most afternoons.”

Ten feet away, half-hidden behind a cluster of students, Heeseung had stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. Jay almost walked straight into his back, headphones on so conveniently, he missed the whole commotion. 

“You good?” He asked, lifting one side of his headphones, “Heeseung?” He asked yet again when he didn’t get a reply. 

How would he? When Heeseung was deep in thoughts, the tips of his ears red. Everyone knew he was the guy who kept to himself, not the kind to insert himself into a fight—eventually leading to him never getting into a situation where he’d have to defend himself. 

But you did it so naturally with not a single hint of him witnessing the scene. It was heartwarming to say the least, the way you defended him so casually but your tone clearly portraying the care you harboured for him, even if it was little (as per Heeseung and his never ending self doubt). 

Before Jay could wave a hand in front of his face, Jake came barreling around the corner like he was late for everything in life, backpack slipping off one shoulder. Without missing a beat he lunged forward, locking an arm around Heeseung’s neck and yanking him down into a tight headlock. 

“Spill it right now—the hell did you do with Y/N last night, huh? I’m not letting go till you talk, dude, I swear to god—”

Much to his dismay, Heeseung pushed him off with ease, “the fuck? Get off,” he said, staring at Jake who looked like he hadn’t slept at all. 

Jay was completely lost, headphones now resting on his neck, “what am I missing here exactly? What even happened?”

Heeseung groaned, “nothing happened—” 

“Nah, he took Y/N to his room and then I heard moans. Moans—do you fucking get it? He’s actually fucking her.” Jake ranted, eyes blown wide. 

Jay’s eyebrows shot up, “wait, what? For real?”

Heeseung shoved Jake off properly this time, cheeks burning as he fixed his hoodie, “It’s not—fuck, can you not yell that in the middle of the hallway?”

Jake threw his hands up, looking genuinely offended, “I’m sorry, I was trying to eat pizza and process the fact that my dream girl was getting railed by my roommate. You could’ve at least given me a heads-up, man.”

Jay let out a low whistle, finally catching on. He crossed his arms, which had gotten muscular somehow, “so, you and Y/N? Like, actually?”

Heeseung rubbed a hand over his face, ears still red, “we have an arrangement of sorts. No strings attached, that’s it.”

Jake stared at him like he’d been shot in the chest, “no strings? She deserves love, she deserves aftercare and pampering and—”

Jay was never good at hiding his amusement, especially if it consisted of embarrassing one of his friends, “you sure you can actually do the no-strings thing? You’re the guy who gets attached after one good conversation. Remember that girl from school who just smiled at you in the library and you were googling how to ask someone on a date at two a.m.?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Heeseung muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched with his mind drifting back to you. 

Jake however, wasn’t done. He threw his hands up again, “I’m serious, I even fucking dropped the pizza slice she ate from.”

Jay snorted, “you’re never gonna let that go noq, are you?”

“Never,” Jake said, dead serious, “that could’ve been our indirect kiss.”

Heeseung shook his head, finally starting to walk again so they wouldn’t be late for class, “It’s fine. We’re both adults, it’ll be okay.”

Jay fell into step beside him, clapping him on the back a little too hard, “yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, I give it ten days before you’re buying her flowers and writing her name in your notes with hearts around it.”

“Two weeks,” Jake corrected, still sulking, “max.”

Heeseung didn’t bother arguing. He just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and kept walking, the stupid little smile refusing to leave his face completely.

You, meanwhile, had no idea any of that chaos had just exploded behind you. You groaned, sitting down on the couch, despising the silence that greeted you. Winter had gone to her family home for her cousin’s wedding, and Sunoo had conveniently decided to spend the night over at Hoon’s to torture him with some horror movie. 

And you were here, unsure of what to do tonight, and the newfound interest you’d found within your ex’s best friend. 

Whatever this was, it was definitely going to be interesting.

Turns out, the night wasn’t about to be boring at all. You had just gotten under the warmth of your duvet as your phone lit up, a text brightening your lock screen. Evidently, you seemed to be lurking in Heeseung’s mind as much as he had started persisting in yours. 

Heeseung: you up?  You: that’s such a fuckboy question  Heeseung: oh shit i didnt mean it that way You: hm? what’s it then  Heeseung: js felt like texting 

You clicked your tongue, rolling to your side, phone propped up against your fluffy pink pillow. 

You: mhm sure You: what are you doing rn then

The typing bubble popped up, disappeared, then popped up again—a proper reminder of how Heeseung’s personality shone through even through his texting patterns. 

Heeseung: just lying in bed Heeseung: can’t sleep for some reason

A second later your phone vibrated with a picture, a selfie to be precise. It was rather cinematic how Heeseung appeared to look even prettier with dim lights, messy dark hair falling into his eyes, no shirt, just the chain he always wore catching the light. He looked way too good for someone who was just lying in bed, lips slightly parted and swollen like he’d been biting them. The angle showed the sharp line of his collarbone and that adam’s apple, a few marks evident on his skin, courtesy of you. 

You stared for a second longer than you meant to, completely zoned in how beautiful a few marks made him look. 

You: oh wow  You: don’t you look dashing at one in the morning 

Heeseung only let out a breathy laugh, clearly preening under your praise, as if he hadn’t clicked eight pictures just so he could send you the most perfect one, in his standards at least. 

Heeseung: your turn 

The corner of your lip twitched up as you sat a little, tugged the neckline of your oversized tee down just enough so the soft swell of your tits spilled over the fabric, nipples barely hidden. You angled the camera, snapped it, and hit send without overthinking, knowing that the reply would come within seconds, and so it did. 

Heeseung: fuck Heeseung: you’re actually evil

You laughed under your breath and sent another one right after, taking off your tee fully, letting him know how hard your nipples had gotten already. 

You: now you. don’t be shy baby

Heeseung sent back a shot of his hand shoved down his sweats, gripping himself. The outline was obvious, the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband, flushed and already leaking. Then another one—his hand mid-stroke, thumb smearing the precum over the head. A low, rather shaky breath left his lips in the process, and he swore he hadn’t ever been the type to be so—so evidently horny before. 

You’d say you bring out the worst in people, but Heeseung would contradict it with a goofy smile saying how it’s the absolute best. With that thought, he hit sent. 

Heeseung: this is what you do to me

Your mouth went dry, the picture being enough for you to spread your legs under the duvet, only to push the duvet away entirely before angling your phone properly to ensure the slick on your cunt would be visible in the picture. 

You: see what you’re missing? Heeseung: jesus christ i’m actually throbbing

You bit down on your bottom lip, absolutely letting the pleasure of having Heeseung in control take over. So, instead of texting back, you tapped the voice message button and held it down.

Your voice came through low and teasing, a little breathy already.

“Aw, poor baby, you’re throbbing just from a picture? C’mon, lemme hear how good it feels, hm?”

You sent it without thinking twice, and he was quick to listen, his dick twitching just as he heard your voice. A few seconds later his voice message came back—husky, a little embarrassed, but clearly turned on. 

“Fuck—you’re so mean,” he whispered, which almost came out as a whine, “I’m so hard it hurts. I’m stroking it slow at first, like this—” You could hear the faint, wet sound of his hand moving, “but I keep thinking about how wet you looked in that last pic. Want my mouth on you so bad right now.”

You caressed your clit gently, letting your head fall back at his not so shy admissions. It was hot how he didn’t shy away from speaking his mind. 

“Hmm, good boy—keep stroking just like that. Faster now, I want to hear how desperate you sound for me. Tell me exactly what you’d do if you were here.”

His next voice message was even shakier, breathing heavier.

“I’d pull you on top of me, let you grind on my cock while you tell me how you want it. Fuck—I’d let you use me however you want. I’d suck on your tits while you ride me, make you moan my name louder, please take my name, please?”

You let out a soft, breathy moan right into your reply.

“Yeah? You like when I boss you around, Heeseung? Touch yourself exactly how I would. Tighten your grip—I know you’re close already, aren’t you?”

Heeseung’s voice cracked in the next voice note, barely above a whisper.

“Shit—yeah, I’m so close, your voice is driving me insane. Ah, fuck, wanna bury my face between your thighs right now—”

You were breathing harder too, fingers moving faster. You sent one last voice message, letting your voice be sultry. 

“Then cum for me, Hee. Let me hear it. I want you moaning my name when you do.”

That did it for him, he could barely even keep the phone in his hand, shivering at the hyper awareness of it all, of you. 

Somehow, you knew exactly the predicament he was undergoing, and you decided to spare the poor man, hitting the call button to free his hands. He picked up after a single ring. 

“Fuck—you’re actually perfect,” he panted, the wet sound of his hand still audible. “I’ve never been this gone from just voice messages before.”

You laughed softly, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a quiet moan, “then don’t stop. Stroke it faster for me, yeah? Be good, I want to hear every sound you make while you think about fucking me.”

Heeseung groaned, clearly trying (and failing) to stay quiet because of his friends, who were in the living room. “Feels so good but it’s not enough—I keep imagining you riding me, telling me to go harder, shit,—”

“You’re doing so well,” you praised, clenching around your fingers as he moans out your name, “imagine it’s my pussy instead of your hand. I’m so fucking wet for you right now. You’d slide in so easy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah—fuck, I would,” he whimpered, “I’d let you use me however you want. I’d let you choke me while you ride me, I don’t even care anymore—”

You moaned louder, fingers curling just right, “yeah, yeah, just keep talking like that and I’m gonna cum, be good c’mon, you’ll cum with me, yeah?”

Heeseung’s breathing turned ragged, desperate little sounds slipping out, “i’m so close—gonna—fuck, Y/N—”

You came first, moaning his name all soft and filthy into the phone. He followed right after with a choked groan, trying to muffle it against his pillow but failing miserably, and god knows what would happen if Sunoo (who was there all thanks to Sunghoon) was to witness this. 

For a long moment the only thing between you was heavy breathing.

Then Heeseung let out a soft, wrecked little laugh, making you grin lazily, “you did so well, Hee.”

He didn’t expect that, making him whine again, and you swore you could run to see him all flushed and blushing, “you’re so perfect.”

Your breath hitched at his whispered words, gulping as you stayed silent, letting your breathing even out. He was quiet for a beat too, but his mind wasn’t stopping at that. 

“Hey, uh I saw what you did earlier, in the hallway, with Mina.”

You blinked, surprised, “wait, you were there?”

“Yeah. I was a little further back, but i heard everything.” His voice dropped, almost like he was in awe, “the way you shut her down for me—defended me like that without even thinking. It was really fucking hot. Couldn’t stop thinking about it all night, that’s why I texted you.”

You let out a low chuckle at how unpredictable he was, “so that’s the real reason you were sending me nudes and moaning my name like a desperate little slut at one a.m., huh?”

If praises led Heeseung to moan, the degradation caused him to cry—not in a bad way of course. It was new for him too, as if he was learning about himself through you. And the voice you heard was beautiful, a broken cry of his desperation. 

“I see you’re into degradation,” you pointed out. 

“Fucking hell, even I didn’t know,” he breathed out, eyes closing. 

You only smirked, getting closer to the phone now.

“Wanna test how it plays out?”

“Why the fuck did Hoon just tell me you’re fucking Heeseung?” 

It was rather hard to distinguish his tone when he sounded both impressed and mad. Turns out, he was mad since he didn’t hear it from you first, then, he was impressed with how fast you moved on. Regardless, he didn’t let you live that down, trying to force the group together, only to see Heeseung squirming and you being absolutely normal. 

You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, still in the oversized hoodie you’d thrown on after your morning shower, when Sunoo burst through the door, Winter followed, sipping an iced latte and looking far too amused for someone who was supposed to be your emotional support. And so another interrogation session took place, which you survived (somehow). 

Other than that, things had been normal. A few changes did occur such as you all having lunch together, even Winter invited her girlfriend, making the group seem livelier than ever. Jake made it his mission to sit next to you each time, and Heeseung—well, he stared at you more than he ate. 

That pattern followed you straight into your English lecture later that afternoon. You slipped into your usual seat in the middle row, barely five minutes late, when Riki dropped into the chair right beside you, and you looked up at him, surprised. 

Heeseung walked in later, eyes on how you greeted the guy easily, and with that, he almost walked into someone. He could only manage to groan, because why wouldn’t you talk to him? To be fair, you did talk to him, like a friend, but never more, no initiation of any sort. Heeseung was the one who texted first, and he didn’t mind, but with how soft hearted he was, he probably wouldn’t mind you texting first either. 

That being said, Heeseung was basically sulk incarnate watching how you made plans to give Riki a coffee for some reason—was it a date? Why would you even like that tall kid? Heeseung knew you better despite the little time he spent with you. It was a given that you didn’t offer much about yourself despite your outgoing personality, but he did know how you played with your nails, how your eyes go wide when you eat something good, and how fucking good you sound moaning his name. 

“We’re all going to the cafe,” Sunoo chirped the second you stepped outside after the class, Heeseung following behind to see all his friends standing there too. 

You did find it odd how he was silent today, too silent, even worse when he didn’t try to initiate any conversation with you, just falling into step with his friends instead. His hands were shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, shoulders a little hunched as the group started moving.

Halfway there he slowed down just enough to tug Jay’s sleeve, voice low and trying way too hard to sound casual, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Jay only raised his brow, urging him to continue, “uh, so when we sit down, maybe ask Y/N something that’ll get her talking, like the stuff going on in her life, just anything.”

Jay stopped dead for half a second, then let out a loud, wheezing laugh that practically bounced off the buildings. The sound was so sudden and genuine that you actually turned around mid-conversation with Karina and Winter, eyebrows raised like you were trying to figure out what was so funny. Jay just waved you off, still cracking up as he clapped Heeseung on the back a little too hard.

“You’re actually hopeless,” Jay wheezed, trying to keep his voice down but failing miserably, “just talk to her yourself, what the fuck.”

Heeseung shoved him off, cheeks hot, “shut up, man. Just—just do it, okay? Please.”

They caught up to the rest of the group right as you all reached the café. The usual corner table was free, so everyone piled in. Jake, of course, immediately dropped into the seat next to you like it was his assigned spot now. Heeseung ended up straight across from you, eyes meeting yours, but this time, he didn’t look away. The corner of your lips twitched seeing him this way, and soon, he found himself smiling fondly too. 

Jay sat there as a witness to Heeseung’s internal breakdown, and well, happiness caused by two seconds of your undivided attention. In the midst of it all, everyone gave their orders, famished beyond words for some reason. The table was lively still, Jake trying to initiate conversations with you, even though Heeseung had not so subtly kicked him under the table to shut him up. 

Jay waited until there was a small lull, then leaned forward with that lazy grin of his.

“So Y/N,” he said casually, like it was no big deal, “what’s the deal with you and Heeseung lately? You two been hanging out a lot or what? He’s been weirdly smiley these days.”

Heeseung’s heart did a stupid little flip, face clearly trying to play it cool, but his eyes were glued to you, waiting.

You took a sip of your drink and shrugged, knowing that if you say anything remotely wrong, Sunoo and Winter would be on your ass about it, “it’s nice hanging out with him, he’s funny.”

Jay snorted at how Heeseung’s smile widened, “funny, huh? That’s all you’re giving us?”

Before you could answer, Jake jumped in, mouth full of his cup ramen, which he somehow got into the cafe, “god, I shouldn’t have gotten Shin, I’m telling you, nothing beats Buldak. You team Buldak too, Y/N?”

Heeseung looked rather offended, “nah, Shin’s better, broth tastes better too.”

Jake immediately turned to you with those big puppy eyes, “c’mon, tell him he’s wrong. Buldak or nothing, right?”

Sunoo and Sunghoon couldn’t even stand this, staring at Jake with the same expression of disgust, his fascination for you was genuinely funny. 

You looked up at Hee, who waited for your answer with shiny eyes, then back at Jake again. Maybe teasing Heeseung wouldn’t hurt, right? Especially when he looked so innocent and serious about your input as if it mattered. 

“I mean, Buldak is definitely good,” you agreed with Jake, taking another sip of your mango matcha. 

Jake beamed at the reply, bumping your shoulder. But Heeseung’s smile faltered for a second, and you almost frowned, not expecting him to surrender, “yeah, fair enough,” he muttered, staying silent the rest of the time, eyes flicking up to you every few seconds, while you observed him openly.

Jay only sighed, and somehow Winter was just as exhausted at the exchange, because Heeseung couldn’t hide his feelings to save his life, and you?

You were missing the point of this little conversation entirely. 

When everyone finally started packing up for their next lectures, the group split off in different directions. You noticed Heeseung hanging back a little, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders still hunched as he walked alone. With a chuckle, you jogged a couple steps, and grabbed his hand.

Heeseung startled hard, eyes going wide as he looked down at your fingers laced with his, and how perfect your new acrylics looked, the touch being enough to make a shiver go up his spine, “Y/N—?”

You only walked further, swinging your joined hands, “why so silent today?” You asked, looking up at him with a brow raised. 

He let out a small breath, eyes flickering back to where your thumb brushed his knuckles, “it’s nothing, just thinking I guess.”

“Hm, about how I picked Buldak over Shin?” You tilted your head, “you got all quiet after that. Kinda cute, actually.”

Heeseung glanced away, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself, “It’s not that, but Jake looked happy, so—yeah.”

“Shin’s my favourite actually, I only said Buldak to see you fight back, but yeah,” you shrugged with a smile. 

Heeseung’s head snapped back toward you, surprised, “wait, really?”

“Yeah. Remember that night we ran into each other at the convenience store? You were grabbing Shin too, I noticed.” You pointed out, “and you barely ate anything at the café either. Come over later? We can have ramen together.”

Heeseung’s steps slowed at the implication, and it showed on his face, mixed with the fondness of the simple fact that you noticed such little things. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed grand gestures, yes he’d appreciate it, but the little things mattered more. 

“You—noticed that?” He asked quietly, almost shy.

You hummed, then leaned up on your toes, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “you can eat something else too if you want.”

That sent him into this mode of short circuiting, and before he could even form a reply, you let go of his hand with a bright, mischievous laugh and took off running ahead across the path, glancing back at him over your shoulder with that same playful grin.

Heeseung stood there for half a second, face burning, your words looping in his head like a damn song on repeat. Then a big, flustered smile broke across his face and he took off after you, knowing he’d catch up to you in no time. 

“Fuck,” he yelled, half-laughing as he chased you down the walkway, “you can’t just say that and run—get back here!”

He really hoped it could always stay this easy with you.

You fell on your mattress with a thud, the springs creaking under the sudden weight of both of you. Heeseung landed right on top, chest pressed to yours, mouth already chasing yours in a hungry, desperate kiss that tasted like the faint strawberry from his drink earlier. 

His lips were hot and insistent, tongue sliding against yours like he couldn’t get close enough, letting out every bit of his frustration into this kiss. One of his hands shoved under your hoodie and straight into your shorts, two fingers gliding through your slick folds before pushing inside you without hesitation. You gasped into his mouth, thighs falling open wider as he curled them deep, stroking that spot that made your back arch clean off the bed.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he breathed against your lips, and you only sank in further, kissing all the way down to his neck, letting an open mouthed kiss linger on his adam’s apple, feeling it blobbing under you as he gulped in need, as if parched. 

Heeseung let out a shaky groan, fingers stuttering inside you for a second before he doubled down, thrusting them deeper, curling harder, “shit—you’re gonna make me lose it just from that.”

You smiled against his throat, sucking lightly, then dragged your teeth over the same spot while your hand kept working his cock in slow, tight strokes. He was throbbing in your palm, hot and slick with precum, hips twitching every time your thumb swept over the head, and you almost moaned cause he was big. 

But it wasn’t enough, you wanted him under you, wanted to watch him fall apart.

You pushed at his chest, flipping him onto his back in one smooth motion. Heeseung let out a surprised grunt as you straddled his thighs, yanking his pants and boxers down just far enough. His cock sprang free, flushed dark and glistening, curving up against his stomach.

Wrapping your fingers around his base as you leaned in to give his tip a slow kiss, making him moan shamelessly, “wait—you don’t have to,” he managed to let out. 

You looked up at him, lips brushing the wet slit as you spoke, “I know, I want to,” you whispered, “been thinking about having you in my mouth since you were sulking on the way here, just to apologize, y’know?”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, “god—you’re serious?”

Instead of answering, you took him in, lips stretching around the thick head, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you sank down. The taste of him filled your mouth, salty and warm, and you moaned softly around his length.

“Shit—baby,” Heeseung’s hand flew to your hair, holding on like he needed something to ground him, his thighs tensing under you, “your mouth feels—so fucking good.”

You hummed in response, taking him deeper until he bumped the back of your throat. You relaxed around him, swallowing, and he let out a broken groan, hips twitching up before he caught himself.

“Sorry—gosh I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. 

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips shiny, a thin string of spit still connecting you to him, “don’t apologize. Fuck my throat if you want to.” You stroked him slow and firm, eyes locked on his, “I can take it, I want you to use me.”

Heeseung’s eyes darkened. He’d never done this before, sure he’d gotten blowjobs, but the permission to take in full control of it? Oh, he swore he was gonna die, “you’re gonna kill me saying shit like that.”

You chuckled and sank back down, taking him all the way until your nose brushed his stomach. You held there for a second, throat fluttering around him, before you started moving, wet bobs of your head, hand twisting around the base.

Heeseung’s head fell back against the pillow, a wrecked moan spilling out, “fuck, fuck—oh my god.” His fingers tightened in your hair, not forcing, but guiding you a little now, testing the waters, “you like this? Being on your knees for me?”

You moaned around him in answer, the vibration making his hips jerk. You pulled off with a gasp, spit dripping down your chin, “I like when you stop being so polite and just take what you want.” You licked a slow stripe up the underside, eyes never leaving his, “you’re always so sweet, Hee, but i also know how desperate you are, won’t you show it to me like a good fucking boy?”

Heeseung’s breath stuttered, it was almost like a switch flipping. His grip in your hair tightened just a fraction more, and when you took him back in, he let himself thrust up a little, shallow and careful at first.

“Like this?” He asked, voice strained, “tell me if it’s too much.”

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips brushing the head, “Harder, I can take it. Use my throat, baby.”

The words seemed to break something in him. He groaned deep in his chest and started moving his hips with more purpose, fucking into your mouth in short, needy thrusts. You relaxed your throat and let him, moaning encouragement around his cock every time he pushed deeper.

“Fuck, fuck—you’re so good,” he panted, voice cracking, “so fucking good at this. Look at you—taking me so deep.” His free hand came down to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek while he watched himself disappear between your lips, “I didn’t know I liked this so much, watching you choke on me.”

You moaned louder, the praise and the way he was starting to lose control making heat flood between your legs. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and Heeseung’s head tipped back again, a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Baby—slow down or I’m gonna cum,” he warned, but his hips kept moving, like he couldn’t stop himself,  “you’re really gonna let me cum down your throat?”

You pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him fast and tight, lips hovering just over the tip, “let me taste you.”

Heeseung’s eyes rolled back as he came with a broken moan of your name, hips jerking as he spilled down your throat in hot pulses. You swallowed every drop, working him through it until he was trembling and oversensitive, little whimpers slipping out every time your tongue moved.

When you finally pulled off, lips swollen and shiny, Heeseung was staring at you like you’d rewired his brain. His chest was heaving, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark and hazy.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice shot, “I didn’t know I could like something that much.”

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, smirking as you crawled up his body and kissed him slowly, letting him taste himself on your tongue.

“You’re learning fast,” you murmured against his lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

So, you were true to your word, because by the time you both stopped, all breathless and spent, it was nighttime. In the midst of everything, you both had managed to fall asleep tangled with each other. Heeseung was the one to wake up first, caressing your cheek as he stared at how peacefully you slept in his arms. 

He stayed like that for a long minute, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, watching the way your lashes rested against your skin. Something heavy settled in his chest—not regret exactly, but a quiet, gnawing guilt that refused to leave him alone.

Carefully, he slipped out from under you, tucking the blanket around your bare shoulders so you wouldn’t get cold. He padded over to the window on quiet feet, pushing the curtain aside just enough to look out at the dark sky. The campus lights glowed faintly in the distance, stars barely visible through the city haze.

Heeseung pressed his forehead against the cool glass, exhaling slowly. What the fuck am I doing? The thought looped in his head. He’d loved Mina—or at least he’d told himself he did. They’d been together for over a year. But even on the best nights with her, he’d never felt this—free, this wanted. With you, you didn’t ask him to be anything other than exactly who he was in the moment, needy, desperate, a little mean when you pushed him, soft when you let him hold you after. Just a hint of your attention made his chest feel too full and that scared the shit out of him.

Because he’d sworn he loved Mina. But this? He wasn’t even sure what to name this feeling anymore, and it felt dramatic when nothing had even happened, just freedom and the best pleasure he’d ever experienced. 

The floor creaked softly behind him, making him turn his head to find you sitting up in bed now, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep. Without saying anything, you reached for his hoodie that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled it over your head. It swallowed you, the hem brushing your thighs as you padded over barefoot to stand beside him.

You leaned your shoulder against the window frame, looking out at the same dark sky. For a moment neither of you spoke.

“You okay?” You asked eventually, voice soft.

Heeseung, however, was in deep thoughts of silent appreciation, because you looked beautiful, you always did, “yeah,” he let out a quiet breath, “I feel like an asshole for even saying this out loud, but—I don’t remember it ever feeling this easy with Mina, even when things were good. With you it’s just different. Like I don’t have to pretend or hold back or be anyone else. I don’t know. That probably sounds stupid.”

You stayed quiet for a second, then bumped your shoulder gently against his, “it doesn’t sound stupid. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, Hee, it’s valid. You don’t owe her anything anymore, and you don’t owe me some perfect version of yourself either, okay?”

“You’re too nice to me,” he mumbled. 

You smiled, looking elsewhere for a moment as you gulped, “that’s what friends are for,” you let out. 

Heeseung turned to look at you fully, friends, is that what you were? Because friends don’t do all this. So, Heeseung only managed to muster one question, hoping the reply would be enough of an action to understand if he was truly alone in this or not.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper with the hope to earn even something as little as a nod. 

This means something more, you thought. This isn’t just sex anymore, not for him. Truly, Heeseung wasn’t even the kind to do this, so why did he agree to this? You wouldn’t mind being a rebound for him but him getting attached would be a problem. Would it really, though? You should’ve said no, but you found yourself being entranced by the beauty in his eyes. 

So, instead you stepped closer, sliding your hands up his bare chest, and tilted your face up to his, “yeah,” you whispered, “you can.”

Heeseung’s breath caught as he cupped your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks like you were something fragile, slotting his lips onto yours almost achingly gentle, this almost felt like a question and an answer all at once to him. 

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he let out a shaky little laugh, pecking the corner of your mouth once. 

The reflection on the window catching on everything you both were too afraid to admit. 

Honestly, the fault was yours for not discussing the boundaries or making one of those contracts like they do in the movies or books (though they never work), cause now, you and Heeseung had been hanging around way more often, some witnesses might even confuse this intimacy for dating. 

Maybe Heeseung was one of them, because when he texted you to come over, you half expected sex, not sitting alongside him learning League of legends at two in the morning. He was unpredictable to say the least, but he did wear his heart on his sleeve, so you could see the bits and pieces of the things he craved, and right now, he craved your time. 

You didn’t mind giving it to him, but it did come with a cost. The second you walked into the room, eyes widening at this small corner of the desk where a mango matcha, a few blue walkers, and a pack of Ferrero Rocher was placed neatly, alongside two packets of cup noodles (just in case). 

To Heeseung, it was normal, and you would have agreed had it been some synonym of aftercare, but no. It was just Heeseung being absolutely willing (and needing) to spend more time with you outside of your fancy little arrangement. 

He had opened the door with a smile so contagious, you mirrored it as he led you inside. A small corner of his desk was full of snacks, a cup of matcha which he knew was your favourite, a couple of Ferrero Rochers because he saw you eating those during the English lecture. You stood there for a second longer than intended, staring at it all, then at the man who had already made himself comfortable on the spare chair, waiting for you with the same gentle smile he always carried around you, making you gulp for a second before you returned it. 

“C’mere? Sit with me,” he said, patting his main gaming chair right next to him, and he half expected you to tease him for doing this, “I swear I’m not trying to be weird, and if you don’t wanna do this we can stop, or you can make fun of me.”

You let out a quiet huff of a laugh and kicked your shoes off before sliding into the chair beside him. Your knee bumped his under the desk and you left it there, the contact warm even through your clothes. Heeseung rolled his own chair closer right away, leaning in from behind you so his chest brushed lightly against your back, one arm resting along the back of your seat while the other reached around to the mouse, and you didn’t notice how he took in your scent with a dreamy sigh. 

“We’re playing League of Legends?” You asked, and he nodded. 

“Have you played it before?” He asked a little hesitant that you’d say you don’t wish to play or indulge in this. 

“Nope,” you said, reaching for the matcha because your mouth suddenly felt dry. The cup was ice-cold, condensation dripping down your fingers as you took a sip, “I’m probably gonna suck at this, just so you know.”

Heeseung let out a small laugh, relieved that you aren’t opposed to this, “that’s fine, we can start from the basics,” he covered your hand with his on the mouse, guiding you through the first clicks. “You just run at people and spin when they get close. Super easy, I promise.”

His fingers were warm over yours, almost careful like he was scared you’d pull away. You felt the way his chest moved against your back when he breathed, the faint brush of his hair against your neck every time he leaned in a little closer to see the screen better.

You clicked around awkwardly and Garen just kind of—stood there swinging his sword at nothing, “this feels dumb,” you muttered, but you were smiling a little, “I look like a robot trying to dance.”

Heeseung bit his bottom lip at the sheer joy of having you play his favourite game, even though you looked lost, confused, and too adorable, “you don’t look dumb. You look cute as hell trying to figure it out.” He squeezed your hand gently and moved the mouse for you, making Garen run forward. “See? Just click on this, okay?”

You tried it and Garen spun like a big metal tornado, actually hitting a couple of the little enemy guys, “oh okay, that was kinda fun,” you admitted, biting your lip to hide the grin. You reached for one of the Ferrero Rochers with your free hand, unwrapped it, and popped it in your mouth. The chocolate melted sweet and crunchy on your tongue, “how’d you know I like this.”

Heeseung shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against yours, “I pay attention to you, sue me.” He took the half you offered him without hesitation, biting it right from your fingers, his lips brushing your skin for a second too long.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the little flutter in your stomach at how brutally honest he was. He pays attention, he set all this up just so you’d feel comfortable doing something he likes. This isn’t what you signed up for, this is him wanting you around, not just in his bed. Stop feeling it. Stop.

The game kept going, as you died a bunch—running straight into the big tower like an idiot, getting smacked by random enemies—but Heeseung never made you feel stupid about it. He’d just lean in closer, chin resting on your shoulder now, arm wrapped a little tighter around the back of your chair, and murmur stuff like, “try backing up a tiny bit next time, yeah?” Or, “you’re getting the spin down though, that last one actually hit three of them, nice.”

You passed him chips from the blue walkers packet, your fingers brushing his every time. He took them without pulling away, crunching quietly while his other hand stayed on the mouse with yours, guiding you through another wave.

Heeseung couldn’t say this out loud but boy was he thrilled. It felt so nice, so domestic to do something so simple with someone (you). He couldn’t help but compare, simply because he didn’t know the basic possibilities of the relationship universe, though you weren’t in one. His ex never spared time for such things, indifferent about his interests, while you were so—sweet. 

“You’ve done this before? Teaching someone like this, I mean?” You asked after a while, “or am I getting special treatment?”

Heeseung went quiet for a second, then let out a breathy little laugh against your neck, “special treatment,” he admitted, no hesitation, “and no, it’s my first time teaching anyone.”

You leaned back into him a little more without thinking, the warmth of his chest solid and comforting against your back, the kind of solace that you had never had the pleasure of experiencing before. Was it supposed to be this easy? 

The snacks slowly disappeared between you—another Ferrero passed back and forth, the mango matcha cup getting lighter with every sip you took. Heeseung kept talking about random shit that had nothing to do with the game. How Jake had stolen his last ramen again, how he stayed up last night thinking about if aliens eat solid food, or if the Thestrals from Harry Potter can see each other or not. 

You told him about the fanpage you had at fifteen, he listened like it was the most interesting thing ever, thumb stroking slow circles on the back of your hand the whole time.

At some point the first game ended. You were still pretty bad, but you weren’t frustrated anymore. Heeseung’s arm had stayed around you the whole time, his chin heavy on your shoulder, breathing warm against your skin.

He didn’t queue another match right away, instead he just sat there for a second, arms loose around your waist, like he was thinking.

“C’mere,” he murmured, voice a little rough as his hands slid to your hips and he tugged you gently, pulling you straight off the spare chair and into his lap like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your back settled fully against his chest, thighs bracketing his, his arms wrapping around you properly so he could still reach everything if he wanted. The chair creaked once under both of you. You fit too well, way too well.

He rested his chin back on your shoulder and clicked into another custom game like nothing had changed, but his arms stayed tight around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go.

“What are we doing, Hee?” You asked in a low mumble. 

Heeseung went still, arms locking tighter around your waist like the question had burned him, he was afraid you’d bring it up and that’s exactly what you did. You felt him swallow hard, breath shaky against your neck.

He opted to answer with his actions instead, turning your face toward him with one hand and kissing you, lips pressing firm like he’d been dying to do it. His tongue slid in right away, tasting like chocolate and the mango you’d been sharing all night. He made this quiet, embarrassed little sound in his throat and kissed you harder, fingers sliding into your hair to hold you there.

You tried to pull back half an inch, though absolutely feeling your heartbeat fastening at how good the kiss, the warmth felt, “Hee, wait—”

He chased your mouth instantly, cutting you off with another kiss, deeper this time, tongue lazy and filthy against yours. His hand slipped under your top, palm hot and a little unsteady on your bare waist, thumb stroking slow circles like he needed to feel your skin to stay sane. He was breathing hard through his nose, cheeks burning against yours, but he wouldn’t let you speak. Every single time your lips parted he was right there again, kissing you quiet, desperate and messy like talking would ruin whatever this was.

“Bed,” he mumbled against your mouth. He stood up with you still in his lap, hands under your thighs, and carried you the few steps across the room. The second your back hit the mattress he was on top of you, settling between your legs and kissing you again before you could even breathe.

This time it was slower but no less intense. His tongue moved against yours in these long, deep strokes while one hand pushed further under your top, palm flat on your stomach, sliding up until his fingers brushed the edge of your bra. His other hand stayed tangled in your hair, tugging gently every time you tried to talk. He was so fucking flustered—ears red, breath shaky, little embarrassed groans slipping out whenever you rolled your hips up into him—but he still wouldn’t let you ask.

Every time you opened your mouth he swallowed it with another kiss, and you groaned, pulling him into you deeper, letting him showcase his feelings through whatever this was, and you understood it, but couldn’t stop it or ask any further, because you knew he’d deflect as if it scared him. 

As if  the only answer he could give was this.

You were decent at saying no, in fact, some might even admit how good you were at it, blunt as fuck. But that ability was limited to the world and it most certainly didn’t apply to this glorious six foot tall man who wished for you to join him at the basketball court. You could have made up some excuse, maybe tell him you have a lab report due, but you didn’t do that—because you wanted to go. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” said Winter, watching you change into a loose t-shirt and old shorts, “you hate sports. You once told me basketball was just a bunch of giants running in circles. Now you’re rushing out at night because Heeseung said come watch me play? And you’re dressing up the part too?”

You shrugged, tying your hair up, “It’s not that deep. I’m bored.”

“Sure, tell yourself that,” she mumbled with her brow raised. 

Well, she wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t care much as you made your way out towards the court which was lit up by some harsh floodlights, looking over to find some guys already deep in the game. You could spot Heeseung, Chenle, Beomgyu, and Sunghoon—t-shirts sticking to their backs. 

Nics (Chenle’s girlfriend) and Moon (Sunghoon’s girlfriend) were already on the bleachers with their chaotic friend, Ricey, who always carried snacks in her bag. The second they spotted you, Nics waved you over with a grin, patting the spot next to her. 

Heeseung was mid-dribble when his head snapped in your direction, the ball bouncing once before he caught it against his hip. Even from across the court you could see the way his face softened, that small, stupidly genuine smile breaking through like usual. He lifted his free hand in a quick wave. 

“Yo, Y/N’s here!” Chenle shouted, grinning like an idiot as he wiped sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt, “perfect timing, let’s do girls versus boys now.”

Nics hopped off the bleachers first, already pulling her hair up, “final-fucking-ly. Come on, we’re making this four on four.”

Moon laughed and stood up too, nudging Ricey, “you in or are you just gonna sit there eating chips the whole time?”

Ricey popped another chip in her mouth before standing, “I’m in, but if I break a nail I’m blaming all of you.”

You didn’t get a chance to sit as you got dragged into the court. Heeseung jogged over to you, still breathing a little hard, hair messy and damp. Up close he smelled like sweat and that familiar woody cologne, and the way he looked at you made you shiver. 

“You actually came,” he breathed, grabbing your arm without thinking much at all. 

“Couldn’t let you embarrass yourself alone,” you replied, stealing the ball from his hands just to mess with him. He laughed, eyes crinkling, and for a second it felt like the rest of the court disappeared.

But boy was it chaotic with Moon just distracting Hoon half the time, Nics and Chenle spent the time arguing—which was clearly their way of flirting, meanwhile Ricey was enjoying the drama in the middle of this all. The game was messy, and oh so loud.

You mostly ended up guarding Heeseung, and he was clearly not focused on winning anymore.

The first time you drove past him, he barely tried to block you, just let you slip by with this stupid little smile on his face. When you scored, he was the first one clapping, muttering under his breath, “fuck, that was hot,” loud enough for Beomgyu to hear and immediately start laughing.

“You’re not even guarding her properly!” Sunghoon yelled, hands on his knees, “you just watched her score and looked proud as hell!”

Heeseung didn’t even deny it, just shrugged, eyes still locked on you as you dribbled back. 

“She’s fast,” he said, but the way he said it was way too soft, and he wondered why he called you with others around when he should’ve done this one on one, but even then, he was thrilled to see you fit in so well with everyone. 

The court lights hummed overhead, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt, your oversized t-shirt clung to your skin in damp patches, the thin cotton sticking to the curve of your waist and the small of your back every time you moved. Heeseung’s eyes kept dropping to where the hem rode up every time you moved, and honestly? You liked it.

You caught the ball again and drove straight at him. This time his hand found your waist right away, palm warm through the damp fabric, thumb brushing under the hem like he couldn’t help himself. You spun past anyway, shoulder bumping his chest, and laid it up clean. When you landed he was still there, fingers lingering on your hip for a second longer than necessary.

“Shit, you’re good,” he muttered by your ear.

Beomgyu groaned loud enough for everyone to hear, “Heeseung, your hand was literally on her the whole time!”

Sunghoon just shook his head, “I can’t watch this anymore.”

A few plays later you slowed right in front of him, dribbling lazy, then hit him with the pout—bottom lip out, eyes big. Heeseung’s shoulders dropped instantly, “come on, that’s cheating,” he whined, but he was already stepping aside, hand sliding to your hip again as you blew past and scored.

Ricey started cracking up from the fence. “He folded. Let’s fucking go!”

Nics and Moon were dying, “Y/N, you’re actually evil,” Moon yelled, “like—look at him.”

The game kept going like that, every time you got near him his hands were on your waist or lower back, like he needed the excuse to touch you. After one layup he caught you around the middle when you landed, pulling you back against his chest for a second, chin brushing your shoulder.

“You’re killing me out here,” he said quietly, thumb rubbing slow against your side.

You turned your head, “stop letting me win so obviously.”

“Can’t,” he admitted, fingers flexing on your hip, “can’t stop you.”

Final possession got you dribbling right up to him. He stepped up, but the second you gave him the pout he let out a soft laugh and just gave up, both hands settling on your waist.

“Go win, baby,” he whispered, not even trying to hide it anymore as you drove and laid it in clean.

Game over.

Nics scooped you up spinning you once while Moon and Ricey cheered like idiots. The second your feet hit the ground Heeseung was there, arm sliding around your waist and pulling you back against him. His t-shirt was damp against yours, heartbeat steady on your back.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured into your hair, thumb still tracing slow circles on your hip under the hem, “didn’t even wanna stop you.”

You leaned into him, grinning, “you had your hands on me the whole second half.”

“Yeah,” he said, no shame at all, “felt too good.”

Heeseung didn’t get to talk more as a fuming Chenle grabbed his collar and dragged him away for what seemed to be some good beating. 

Moon and Nics immediately grabbed your arms at the opportunity and pulled you a few steps away, cornering you near the fence while Heeseung was distracted talking (arguing) to Chenle.

“Okay, spill,” Moon said, “what the hell is going on with you two? Because that was not subtle.”

Nics nodded, still half-laughing, “girl, he had his hands on your waist like every single play. He’s so into you it’s actually funny.”

You tried to play it cool, wiping sweat off your neck with the bottom of your shirt, “It’s not like that. We’re just—hanging out? No strings, y’know?”

They waited for you to say you’re joking, or just laugh, but then none of it came and they gasped, collectively. 

“You’re not serious,” Moon deadpanned. 

Nics’ eyes went huge, “wait. You’re actually serious.”

Ricey let out a low whistle, leaning against the fence, “damn, Y/N. I thought you were messing with us.”

You shrugged, trying to laugh it off, but the sound came out rather shaky. Your stomach did that stupid little flip again, like your body was calling you a liar before your mouth could. The cool night air on your damp neck suddenly felt too cold, and your t-shirt clung uncomfortably to your skin, “I mean, yeah, that’s the deal. We both said it from the start.”

The words felt flat even as you said them. Your eyes drifted across the court before you could stop yourself. Chenle still had Heeseung in that dramatic headlock, ranting about how embarrassing he was, but Heeseung wasn’t even pretending to fight back. His head turned and his gaze found yours instantly through the mess of hair falling in his face. That soft, stupid little smile tugged at his lips like getting chewed out didn’t matter at all. Just you did.

Your chest squeezed as you looked away, but Moon followed your stare and let out a quiet oh, “girl, look at him right now. He’s getting yelled at and he’s still staring at you like that? Come on.”

Nics nudged your side. “he had his hands on your waist literally every single time you got near him. Called you baby in front of all of us. Folded like a lawn chair the second you pouted. That’s a man catching feelings and not even trying to hide it.”

Ricey nodded, arms crossed, “for real. We were all watching, he was playing how many times can I touch my girl without getting called out.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the game anymore, “It’s not like that,” you mumbled but even you could hear how unsure you sounded. The way Heeseung was still looking at you made the label feel thinner than your sweaty t-shirt.

Before anyone could push harder, Chenle finally shoved Heeseung away with one last groan. Heeseung jogged back over, hair wrecked, cheeks flushed, but his eyes were already locked on you again. His arm slid around your waist without hesitation, palm warm and familiar against the damp fabric like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You guys done roasting her yet?” He asked, voice light and a little out of breath. 

Ricey snorted, “not even close.”

Heeseung just grinned and pulled you closer, chin brushing the top of your head. You leaned into him without thinking, the solid warmth of his side against yours making that chest-tight feeling even worse. Or better, you couldn’t tell anymore.

Your newfound friends exchanged a look behind his back, but you caught it anyway.

Whatever this was—it didn’t feel like no strings anymore. Not even a little.

Heeseung always thought that his partner would an extension of his very soul, and he never achieved that. Maybe the saying can be moulded into perspectives of sort, perhaps connection wasn’t about mirroring souls but about finding someone who made the fractures feel intentional, beautiful even.

He mindlessly knocked on the door, heart drumming an uneven rhythm against his ribs, not expecting the door to open so quickly, his breath hitching at the sight of you in front of him. 

Maybe your partner isn’t supposed to be an extension of you, but rather someone who’d stand on the opposite side of the spectrum and still look like a perfect puzzle when fitted together. 

You stood there like a living poem rendered in silk—clad in a breathtaking white gown that slipped over your skin with liquid grace, the delicate fabric catching the hallway’s muted glow, the thin straps tracing the delicate architecture of your collarbones like a lover’s fingertip. It moved with you, shimmering faintly, alive with every subtle shift of your weight. Your hair styled perfectly, lips glossed to a tempting sheen, and the whole vision struck him so viscerally that the air in his lungs simply vanished.

You looked beautiful, like an angel in all white, while he stood in front of you in a black leather jacket, juxtaposing every bit of elegance you exuded. 

Heeseung forgot how to breathe quite literally as time fractured around him. His gaze dragged over you in helpless reverence, while a razor-edged thought sliced through the haze. Are you going out? On a date? With someone else? The image of another man’s eyes tracing that same silk, another hand brushing the curve of your waist beneath it, coiled hot and ugly in his chest, stealing what little breath he had left.

“Hee?” You asked with a smile, tilting your head with genuine surprise, “what are you doing here?”

He gulped, forcing his eyes back up and oxygen to cooperate within him, “you’re breathtaking,” he managed, “I forgot what I came for.”

Warmth crept up your neck at the nervousness of the man in front of you, he was adorable—shifting from one leg to the other, playing with his fingers, as if the simple act of standing there might unravel him completely. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, cheeks flushed a soft rose, and those wide, doe-like eyes kept flicking back to the silk clinging to your body. You could practically feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat from where you stood, the way his throat worked on another swallow, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he tried (and failed) to play it cool.

“I, uh—” Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a small, embarrassed laugh, “I wanted to show you something. I’ve been carrying it around all day like an idiot because I thought you might like it. Figured tonight could be, I don’t know, nice? Just us.”

Your heart gave a small tug, the evening plans you’d been dreading now sitting like a weight in your chest, “god, Hee—I wish I could,” you said softly, “my parents are in town and we have this family dinner thing tonight. It’s one of those non-negotiable things. I was literally about to walk out the door when you knocked.”

Heeseung’s shoulders dropped just a fraction, disappointment flickering across his face before he quickly tried to smooth it over. He nodded, offering you a small, understanding smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he was relieved it wasn’t a boy you’d dressed up for, “no, gosh. It’s okay, I hope you have fun.”

He paused, eyes still lingering on you like he couldn’t help it, “but—if you’re not too tired later, maybe we could still meet up? Even if it’s just for a little while. No pressure or anything, I just—I really like being around you.”

All you could manage was a nod, making him smile wider. It was always a surprise at how clearly Heeseung said whatever he meant, and it wasn’t the best thing for your poor heart, which probably matched Heeseung’s pace now. Bidding goodbye was another problem especially when Heeseung stared till you got inside the cab. The dinner was a haze, your mom staring at your zoned out state with a knowing smile. 

“Who is it?” She sighed finally, making you look up in horror. 

“Mom—no,” you warned, knowing just how interested your family was in gossiping, which didn’t exclude gossip about you by any means. 

“What? She laughed, feigning innocence while your dad hid his grin behind his water glass, “I’m just asking. You’ve been smiling at nothing and zoning out all night, now spill.”

Your cousin leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief, “yeah, girl. You look like you’re thinking about someone. Is he cute? Does he go to your uni?”

Heat flooded your cheeks, “there’s no one,” you lied, though the words felt flimsy even to you, “I’m just tired.”

Your mom reached over and squeezed your wrist gently, “mhm, sure. Whoever he is, he’s lucky if he’s got you looking like this. Just don’t forget to eat, okay? You’re glowing, but you’re also not touching your food.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands as the table erupted into light laughter. The teasing continued with your dad throwing in a dramatic “If he hurts you, I’ll find him” that made everyone chuckle—but you managed to dodge the worst of it, cheeks burning the whole time. By the time dessert came, your family had mercifully moved on, though your mom’s knowing glances never quite stopped.

Meanwhile, Heeseung stood alone on the rooftop of the main university building, the cool night breeze slipping beneath the collar of his leather jacket and ruffling his dark hair. He’d quietly borrowed the keys from the maintenance office earlier—something he wasn’t proud of, but tonight the small rebellion felt worth it. Up here, the view was stunning. City lights stretched out below like scattered diamonds across black velvet, the crescent moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over everything. He slipped an airpod in, letting his playlist fill the silence. 

His hand drifted to the inner pocket of his jacket, fingers brushing the carefully wrapped item inside. He’d wanted to show it to you tonight, watch your face light up, maybe steal a few more stolen moments of that easy warmth you gave him so effortlessly.

Heeseung leaned against the railing, staring out at the glittering skyline while the music in his earpods played on, and he wondered if you were thinking about him too, somewhere across town amid the family dinner. He didn’t mind waiting, in fact, he was good at it when it meant so much to him. Regardless, every couple of minutes he’d glance at the door, half-convinced he was being ridiculous for waiting up here like some lovesick idiot.

As he turned back again, the faint creak of the door was heard, and he went still. You stepped onto the rooftop still wrapped in that white silk gown, the wind caught the hem immediately, making it swirl softly around your legs, and when you smiled at him—he felt it right in the center of his chest.

“Hi,” you said, voice quiet. 

Heeseung pulled the airpods out slowly, letting them dangle from his fingers, “you—you actually came,” he breathed, the words slipping out before he could stop them, his eyes moved over you again, helpless, “in that dress, god, Y/N.”

You walked closer, heels soft against the concrete, “told you I would. Couldn’t stop thinking about whatever you wanted to show me,” a small laugh escaped you. 

He took a half-step closer, “I wasn’t sure,” he admitted, “but I’m really glad you’re here. You look—” he trailed off, shaking his head with a soft, almost disbelieving smile, “I don’t even have the words tonight, you’re beautiful.”

It was foreign, the way you felt all mushy inside with a compliment, granted you got those all the time, but this felt new. You stopped just inches from him, close enough to see the way the moonlight caught in his dark eyes, the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks, “show me, then,” you whispered. 

Heeseung’s breath caught for the briefest moment. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a small box wrapped in simple paper, tied with a slender black ribbon. He placed it gently into your waiting hands, his fingers brushing yours with a lingering warmth that sent another quiet flutter through you.

You untied the ribbon, letting the paper fall away until the snow globe rested heavy in your palms. Inside the delicate glass sphere, a tiny couple danced beneath an invisible sky—her in a flowing white dress that mirrored the silk clinging to your body, him in a dark jacket that echoed the leather draped across Heeseung’s shoulders. Their hands were joined, bodies turned toward one another in quiet, perfect harmony. When you tilted the globe, soft white flakes swirled around them like the first gentle snowfall of winter, catching the moonlight in tiny, luminous sparks.

A rush of something overwhelming bloomed low in your stomach, as if butterflies unfurling their wings until your chest felt too full, too light. You looked up at him, eyes wide and shimmering. “Heeseung,” you breathed, “this is us. The dress, the jacket, it’s exactly like us.”

He bit his bottom lip, smiling shyly as he nodded, eyes soft with affection that he never failed to display. “Yeah,” he murmured, stepping closer until the globe rested safely between your bodies, pressed lightly against the silk over your heart, “I know it’s a little cheesy, but when I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

It was yet again when he had rendered you speechless so beautifully, a small smile still graced your lips, and you couldn’t hide it, you didn’t wish to hide it, “it’s not cheesy, it’s beautiful, Hee. Thank you.” 

You held the globe for another heartbeat, letting the tiny flakes swirl and sparkle inside the glass, before you turned gently and set it on the wide concrete railing

Heeseung watched you, nervous as he reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the earpods and holding it out to you between two fingers, “dance with me?” He asked, voice hopeful, “I’ve had this song on repeat—uh, I kept imagining what it would sound like with you here.”

It was as if you were facing the real tale of the entanglement after the initial surface level attraction had worn off, which should’ve made it worse, right? But Heeseung, unlike any other potential love interest you’d met, shone brighter after revealing himself day by day. 

You took the airpod from him without a second’s hesitation and slid it in, that familiar, timeless melody of Everybody Loves Somebody filling your ear like an old friend crooning about love that finds you when you least expect it. Heeseung’s fingers brushed yours as he took your hand, threading them together with a quiet certainty that made your breath hitch. His other palm settled at your waist, warm through the silk, and he drew you in until your bodies met, like they’d been waiting all along. You let your free hand rest against his chest, right over the steady thud of his heart beneath the leather.

Heeseung let out a soft, breathy laugh, “fuck, I actually feel stupid right now,” he muttered, “I’ve never danced before.”

You laughed, leaning into his scent further, “you’re doing great, Hee.”

“Yeah?” Another dorky chuckle rumbled through his chest. He adjusted his hold on you, thumb moving in a slow, absent circle at your waist, “I don’t know, lately I keep catching myself doing shit I never thought I’d do. Like stealing keys to a rooftop, buying a snow globe because it reminded me of you. It’s weird, I feel like I’m figuring out all these parts of myself I didn’t even know were there.”

He stole keys, the thought itself made you chuckle again. You’d once read somewhere that the act of loving someone doesn’t stop at accepting them but furthers by coaxing their selfhood out of them—it felt that way for you too because who would have thought you’d be dancing with someone at a rooftop wearing a gown? 

You squeezed his hand gently, “I like that,” you said, “I like that you’re figuring it out with me.”

The proximity was perfect, yet your bodies kept on gravitating towards each other every few steps, and eventually the melody began to fade. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the position mirroring that of the snow globe miniatures. Taking another step, you leaned forward just enough to slot your lips against his, almost as if breathing each other in, lips parting at the same time before pressing into a gentle peck. Heeseung exhaled shakily against you, his hand tightening at your waist for a second like he was trying to remember how to breathe.

When you finally drew back, you gave him that smile you knew he couldn’t resist. You slipped the airpod out of your ear and dropped it into his open palm, fingers brushing his one last time. At the same time you reached over, picked up the snow globe from the railing, and tucked it carefully against your chest.

“Night, baby,” you whispered as you turned toward the door.

Heeseung just stood there, completely still, breathing a little harder than before. His eyes were wide and utterly lovestruck as he watched you walk away. The rooftop door clicked shut behind you, but he didn’t move for a long time—just stayed right where he was under the moonlight, that dazed, helpless smile slowly taking over his face.

You were panting as Heeseung pressed his lips on the base of your spine, sending a shiver up your back. He hadn’t been patient pulling you in his bed, turning you over to unzip your dress. He groaned with each kiss as if he was pleasuring himself instead of you while savouring every inch of skin exposed. 

Heeseung pressed his forehead against the middle of your back for a second, breathing hard, “you’re trembling,” he whispered against you, “is my mouth really making you feel that good?” He kissed between your shoulder blades, then higher, until his lips brushed the nape of your neck, “tell me, baby. Tell me how wet you are right now just from this.”

“So wet,” you gasped, pushing your hips back against him, “Hee—please.”

He let out a broken groan and shoved your panties to the side with impatient fingers, not even bothering to pull them off. The thick head of his cock nudged against your slick entrance, hot and heavy, before he sank into you in one long, relentless thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound guttural as he bottomed out, stretching you wide, “you’re soaking my cock, baby. So fucking tight and wet for me.” He pulled back slowly, then drove in again, harder, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room, “listen to that. Hear how greedy your pussy is for me?”

You cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets as he set a deep, punishing rhythm, each stroke dragging perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you.

“Heeseung—oh god, yes—” your voice broke on a moan, tears of overwhelming pleasure already stinging your eyes, “harder—please, I need it harder.”

Heeseung cursed under his breath and fucked you deeper, hips snapping forward with filthy precision, “like this?” He panted, voice hoarse “you want me to ruin this pretty little pussy? Tell me how good it feels, baby. I want to hear you fall apart.”

“It feels so good,” you sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust, “you’re so deep—fuck, Hee, I can’t—”

The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, white-hot and devastating, until it finally snapped.

“I love you—” the words tore out of you, raw and desperate, “Heeseung, I love you—”

He froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt inside you, body going completely rigid.

“What?” His voice was barely a whisper, shocked and trembling.

You whimpered, hips twitching helplessly around his cock, the confession spilling out again in a blurry, broken rush, “I love you, I love you so much—”

Heeseung pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. In one swift motion he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with wide, dark eyes and a chest that heaved like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice hoarse and shaking as he stared down at you, one hand cupping your jaw, “look at me and say it again, baby. Please.”

Your eyes were glassy, lips parted on a shaky breath, but the words seemed to have blurred, your face disappearing right in front of his eyes as you said, “I love—” 

He woke up with a sharp, ragged gasp, bolting upright in his own bed, heart slamming violently against his ribs. The room was dark and silent except for his own frantic breathing. Sweat slicked his skin, and when he looked down, the front of his sweatpants was soaked with a warm, sticky mess.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, dragging a trembling hand down his face, cheeks burning with heat.

It was hard for him to contain himself when this is all he could dream of the past six days, feeling it deep despite it being a dream. Wet dream was fine really, but the confession that echoed? Yeah, that definitely made Heeseung feel eccentric because he needed to hear that for real despite the terms of the relationship between you both. It was bound to bloom into something more.

You two had fallen into a rhythm that didn’t need a label really. He showed up outside your lectures with your stupidly specific drink (matcha), the one with the exact ratio you liked, because he’d paid attention the one time you made a face at the wrong version. You’d started leaving your oversized hoodie at his place just so you could steal his instead and he could wear yours, the sleeves swallowing your hands while you lounged on his bed scrolling through your phone. He noticed how you always tugged at your bottom lip when you were thinking too hard, how you stole the last sip of his drink without asking, how your shoulders relaxed the second you kicked your shoes off after a long day. You noticed the way he rubbed the bridge of his nose when he was tired but too stubborn to admit it, the soft little hum he made when something tasted exactly right, the way his eyes lingered on you a beat longer than necessary whenever you laughed at something dumb he said.

You weren’t calling it dating, you weren’t calling it anything. But you also weren’t fighting it. You’d never been the type to deny yourself something that made you feel good, and Heeseung made you feel good in a way that snuck up on you. So you let yourself have it without the complications of overthinking. 

Later that morning, Heeseung walked across campus still half-dazed from the dream, that stupid, lingering smile refusing to leave his face. The memory of your voice saying those three words kept looping in his head, well, until a voice didn’t wish to hear ruined his train of thoughts. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t the thief.”

Heeseung slowed to a stop and turned. Jaemin stood there with his arms crossed, wearing the same smug, pissed-off expression he used to think was charming.

Heeseung let out a dry, humorless scoff, “thief? That’s fucking hilarious coming from the guy who was literally balls-deep in my ex while we were still together.”

Jaemin stepped closer, eyes narrowing, “whatever helps you sleep at night. You really think you’re gonna keep her interested?” His voice dripped with condescension, “Y/N doesn’t do soft boys. All that cute shit you do, y’know? All that bringing her drinks, playing with her hair, looking at her like she’s the only person in the room? She’ll get bored so soon. She needs someone who can actually keep up with her, not some pathetic, whipped little romantic who gets all starry-eyed at the sight of her.”

Heeseung forced out a dry laugh, “yeah sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Jaemin stepped even closer, that ugly little smirk twisting his mouth, “you’re playing house while she’s used to getting fucked properly, I’m sure you’re not offering much to at all, you’re nothing but a rebound to her,” he scoffed once, and walked away. 

But the damage was done, because yes, Heeseung was soft, almost a whipped little romantic who let you take the lead when things got heated, how you pinned his wrists down or told him exactly how you wanted him, and how much he fucking loved giving in to you. The dream from this morning flashed behind his eyes again, your voice breaking on those three words while he was the one completely undone above you. Now it all felt suddenly pathetic, like something Jaemin could point at and laugh at.

Jealousy, envy, insecurity, these were the things he didn’t wish to feel, and gladly so, he never felt that with you, so why was an outsider here to remind him of his so called weaknesses? It felt like a spiral how he skipped the next lecture and pondered on Jaemin’s words. Did you actually not enjoy your time with him? Was he enough? Did you want a more intense relationship? Was it just a rebound?

He couldn’t find the answers to any of those questions, and managed to ignore every single text and call that came his way, letting himself cool down on the rooftop yet again. 

What he essentially forgot was how communication wasn’t a part of the relationship but the very pillar that ran practically any relationship on this earth, this being the very first instance of him not being able to express himself—something he did so freely around you. 

And so, the day passed without him replying to you. 

You felt the absence like a missing pulse. 

“You look crazy checking your phone every two minutes,” Sunoo pointed out, and you huffed, grabbing your phone again to stare at the unread texts you’d sent him through the day. 

The screen glowed mockingly in the low light of your dorm room, the blue bubble of your last message still floating unanswered beneath the others, heeseung? talk to me. you okay? i’m coming over if you don’t answer. Just silence that didn’t sit right with you. 

Sunoo flopped dramatically across the foot of your bed, legs kicking up behind him, while Winter perched on the windowsill, she watched you with that knowing tilt of her head, the one that always preceded a lecture of affection. 

“Babe,” she said, “he’s been ghosting the group chat too, something’s off. Like, capital-O off.”

You set the phone face-down on the blanket, but your fingers still twitched toward it. Sunoo nudged your ankle with his socked foot. 

“Go, seriously, and if he’s being a dramatic little shit, tell him Sunoo said to grow a pair and answer his damn phone.” His grin was bright, “you’re so in love it’s pathetic.”

Your lip only twitched, and you didn’t admit nor deny it. It was too early to even overthink what happened, was he drowning himself in self destruction while embracing pain for absolutely no reason? Regardless you frowned with disdain, pushing yourself up to actually do something about the situation, choosing to wear his hoodie he gave you a few days earlier. 

You didn’t bother fixing your hair or changing out of the soft shorts you’d been rotting in all evening. This wasn’t about looking put-together, it was about the fact that Heeseung had never once left a message on read without answering, in fact, he was the one who usually texted first, shared his problems, and discussed any and everything this world has to offer. Whatever had him locked down like this, it had teeth, and you were done waiting for him to chew through it alone.

By the time you reached there, a feeling of nervousness washed over you. Jake pulled the door open almost immediately, like he’d been hovering behind it. His eyes were wide, hair sticking up in about six different directions, and he looked so relieved to see you that it almost hurt.

“Jesus Christ, you’re here,” he sighed, stepping aside so you could slip in, “he got back from class and just shut down. Told me to fuck off when I asked if he wanted pasta. Jay tried the concerned roommate bit and got the door slammed in his face. This isn’t—he doesn’t do this, y’know?”

You nodded, throat tight, “I know.”

Jake hesitated, then added almost sheepishly, “if he’s being a dick, tell him I said to stop being a dramatic prick or i’ll take you away, or whatever.”

You gave him a chuckle and headed straight for the bedroom door, hoping that it wouldn’t be locked. It wasn’t, thankfully so, and you pushed the door open before you could talk yourself out of it. Heeseung sat on the edge of the bed in those black sweats that hung too low on his hips, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. The silver chain sat against his collarbone, rising and falling with these tight little breaths. He looked exhausted, hollowed out even.

He heard the door and his head snapped up.

For a second his eyes went wide, like he couldn’t believe it was really you standing there. The whiplash of emotions was too much, especially when you were clad in his hoodie with sadness gracing your pretty face that he really always wished to see happy. He stood up so fast the bed creaked, crossed the room in two strides, and pulled you against him like he’d been waiting to do exactly that all day.

His hands were rough as he grabbed your nape the second the door closed shut behind you, breathing hard as your lips parted to ask a question, but he only closed his eyes, slid his hand up to your head as he pushed you against the door, pushing his lips against yours in a messy claim. 

He can be rough, he can be the one to give you pleasure, of course he can. His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wanted it, tongue sliding in deep. You tasted the faint cherry from whatever he’d been drinking, felt the way his chest heaved against yours like he’d been running.

“Missed you,” he mumbled right into your mouth, the words half-bitten off by another rough kiss, “fuck, I missed you so bad today.”

“Heeseung—wait, what the hell happened—” you tried, but he swallowed the question with his mouth, sucking on your bottom lip hard enough to sting before dragging his teeth down the side of your neck. His free hand shoved under the hem of the hoodie, palm sprawled over the expanse of your waist, fingers digging in like he needed to feel skin right now

“Shh,” he breathed against your throat, voice wrecked, “don’t talk. Just—let me.” He sucked a mark right below your ear, like he was stamping proof that you were here, that you were his. His hips pressed forward, pinning you tighter to the door, and you could feel how hard he already was through his sweats.

The force of him made your breath hitch, your back flush against the cool wood while every inch of him burned insistent. He was never like this, not with you. Heeseung had always been careful, as if afraid that wrong move would make you slip away. But tonight something had snapped in him, and the way his fingers trembled just slightly against your skin told you he knew it too. He was trying to prove a point—to himself, to the ghost of Jaemin’s voice still echoing in his head—that he could be the rough, ravenous version he thought you wanted.

He spun you around so fast your palms slapped against the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door. The cool glass kissed your bare chest, making your nipples tighten instantly. Heeseung’s chest pressed flush to your back, one hand sliding up to grip your jaw, forcing your head up so you had no choice but to look at your own reflection—parted lips, eyes already glassy. 

“Look at yourself,” he rasped, “look how fucking pretty you are when you’re like this for me.”

His other hand snaked down your stomach, fingers dipping between your thighs without warning. Two thick digits pushed inside you in one smooth glide, curling instantly against that spot that made your knees buckle. You gasped, forehead dropping forward until it rested on the mirror, but Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightened, yanking you back up.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch, yeah?” 

It most certainly was hot to see him take control, but you couldn’t understand the sudden switch, the implications, your mind was too foggy with the way you’d missed him through the day. Heeseung was too in his head, as if on some mission to make you feel good—which he always achieved, yet was not satisfied. 

He pumped his fingers slow and deep, twisting them on every drag out so you felt every ridge, every knuckle. The wet, slick sounds of your pussy taking his fingers echoed obscenely in the quiet dorm room. In the mirror you watched it all: the way your lips parted on a shaky moan, the flush crawling down your neck to your chest, the way your tits pressed and flattened against the cool glass with every rock of your hips. Heeseung’s reflection behind you was devastating—dark hair falling into his eyes, jaw clenched tight, that chain around his neck swaying every time he thrust his fingers harder.

“God, you’re so deep already,” you whimpered, hips rocking back to meet his hand, “keep going like that, yeah, just like that, Hee.”

Heeseung groaned low, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second before he forced himself to look up again, as if in pain, “that’s it. Fuck, listen to how messy you sound. You’re dripping down my wrist, baby. Such a good girl for me.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering, but he tapped your jaw again.

“Don’t close your eyes. Want you to see how pretty you look when I finger fuck you like this.”

“Bossy tonight,” you teased breathlessly, even as your thighs started trembling, “I like it, but you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep rubbing my clit like that.”

“Good,” he rasped, thumb circling faster, fingers curling relentlessly, “cum for me. Right now. Let me see it.”

You moaned his name loud, walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers as you came, slick coating his hand. Heeseung kept working you through it, slower but deep, murmuring against your neck, “that’s my girl—fuck, you’re so pretty when you cum. Look at you shaking for me.”

He pulled his fingers out slowly, then brought them to your lips.

“Taste yourself, baby, hm? C’mon, open up.”

You sucked them clean, eyes never leaving his in the reflection, and he cursed under his breath the second your tongue swirled around his fingers. 

“Fuck—you’re gonna kill me.”

Before you could catch your breath he dropped to his knees behind you, hands gripping your hips and yanking you back so your ass arched toward his face.

“Keep watching the mirror,” he said, voice hoarse with need, “I want you to see me eat this pussy like I’ve been starving for it.”

Then his mouth was on you, as filthy as he could manage. His tongue dragged slow and broad from your clit all the way up, and you moaned loud, hands sliding down the glass.

“Oh my god, Hee—”

“Mhm, fuck, you taste even better after you come,” he groaned against you, the vibration making your legs weak, “spread your legs a little wider for me, baby. Let me get deeper.”

You did, pushing back against his face. His tongue fucked into you while his nose nudged your clit, then he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth hard.

“Yes—right there, don’t stop,” you panted, “your tongue feels so fucking good, baby, keep sucking like that.”

Heeseung moaned into your pussy, one hand reaching around to rub your clit while the other spread you open wider, “tell me how much you like it,” he mumbled between licks, voice desperate, “tell me you love my mouth on you.”

“I love it—fuck, I love your mouth, Hee. You’re so good at this—shit, I’m gonna cum again if you keep going like that.”

He sucked harder, tongue flicking fast, fingers joining to curl inside you, “then let go again, right on my tongue. I want to feel you fall apart while you watch yourself in the mirror.”

Your second orgasm crashed over you even harder, a high pitched moan leaving your mouth, almost as if you were chanting his name like a mantra, thighs shaking violently as you came on his tongue, and Heeseung licked you through every pulse, slow and greedy, humming happily like he couldn’t get enough.

You were still trembling when he finally pulled away, breathing hard against the inside of your thigh. His eyes met yours in the mirror for a second, looking all desperate, almost frantic before he stood up and turned you around. His hands were shaking as they gripped your waist.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough, like the words were being dragged out of him. He kissed you immediately, with the need to taste the way you’d just fallen apart for him, “bed. I need you on the bed right now.”

You nodded, legs still unsteady, and he didn’t wait. He lifted you, your back hitting the mattress a second later. He climbed over you fast, knees bracketing your hips, but instead of diving right in he paused, hovering above you, chest heaving. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, and for a split second you saw the soft Heeseung underneath all that intensity—the one who always checked on you, the one who was terrified of messing this up.

“You really want this?” He asked, voice cracking a little even though he was trying to sound sure. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like he couldn’t stop himself, “all the way, me inside you. Tell me you want it, baby, please.”

“I want it,” you whispered, reaching up to pull him closer by his chain, “I want you, Hee. Stop holding back.”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded, like he was steeling himself. He shoved the rest of his clothes off as you watched the pretty boy in front of you. It was clear how he wanted to prove a point, and you were gonna let him, granted he wasn’t in the mood to talk, his faint muscles flexing was distracting you as well, but yeah, you were letting him take control. 

He gripped your thighs and spread you open wider, breathing hard as he tried not to stare to the point he starts drooling because, lord, you looked absolutely stunning all spread out on his bed, looking up at him with need, bottom lip bitten. He lined up, the blunt head of his cock pressing right against your entrance, and for a second he just stayed there, breathing hard, eyes flicking up to yours like he was still fighting whatever storm was in his head.

“Tell me again,” he said, “tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathed, pulling him down into a messy kiss, tongues sliding deep right away, “I want you inside me, Hee. Stop thinking and just take me.”

He groaned into your mouth and pushed forward.

The first inch stretched you open, slow and thick. You both gasped against each other’s lips.

“Fuck—you’re so tight,” he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, hips trembling as he held still, “just the tip and you’re already gripping me like that. You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nails dragging lightly down his back, “keep going, I can take more.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, almost desperate, and rolled his hips forward on the second thrust as another inch sank in. The burn was sharp but so fucking good your back arched.

“Shit—baby,” he groaned, voice cracking. He sucked a hard mark right under your jaw, teeth grazing your skin as he pushed in a third time, slower, letting you adjust, “you feel—gosh, you feel unreal, i’m trying not to lose it already.”

Your nails dug in harder, scratching down his shoulder blades as he gave one more careful thrust and finally bottomed out, hips flush against yours. The full stretch made you moan loud into his mouth, legs tightening around his waist.

Heeseung stilled completely, breathing ragged against your neck, trying not to whimper, “talk to me. Does it hurt? Tell me the truth.”

“A little,” you whispered, “but I love it. You feel so deep already. Move, baby, I need you to move.”

He started with slow, deep rolls of his hips, grinding against you on every stroke like he was still trying to stay in control. But you could feel the tension building in his body, the way his fingers dug into your thighs a little harder each time.

“Yeah? Like this?” He asked, voice rougher now as he snapped his hips forward a little sharper, “you want me to fuck you harder?”

“Harder,” you moaned, nails raking down his back again, leaving red lines, “don’t be gentle tonight. I want all of it.”

He dropped his head to your neck and bit down hard, sucking yet another dark mark into your skin as his hips suddenly slammed forward. The thrusts turned brutal, the bed creaking loudly under you. His chain slapped against your chest with every snap of his hips. He was fucking you like he’d been holding back for months—desperate, almost punishing strokes that knocked the breath out of you.

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” he groaned against your throat, voice completely wrecked, “you’re taking me so fucking good. This pussy is mine tonight. Mine.”

You cried out and he kissed you again, tongues sliding messily while he pounded into you without any rhythm left. His hips stuttered, slamming harder, faster, completely mindless now, like every doubt in his head was being fucked out with every brutal thrust.

“Shit—I can’t—can’t slow down,” he panted, “you feel too good, gonna fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He was gone—eyes hazy, sweat dripping down his chest, hips snapping wildly as he lost himself inside you, chasing that raw, desperate need to prove he could be everything he thought you wanted. His chain bounced wildly against your chest, his fingers digging bruises into your thigh like he needed something to hold onto. 

You were right there with him, body tightening, moans spilling out against his mouth, when the intensity tipped over into something too much, too fast. Your hand shot back, fingers digging into his hip.

“Heeseung—stop. Stop for a second.”

He froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt, every muscle locking up at once. His breath hitched hard against your neck. For a long second the room was just the sound of both of you breathing, ragged and uneven. You could feel the panic crashing over him. 

“Fuck—did I hurt you?” His voice cracked, he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes already glassy with tears that spilled over when he blinked, “shit, I’m so sorry—I got too rough, I didn’t mean to, I was trying so hard not to be soft and I just—fuck, I thought if I fucked you harder you’d want me, you’d stay, I—”

His lip trembled. Another tear slid down his cheek and landed warm on your skin. He looked completely shattered, still deep inside you, like the idea that he might have hurt you was breaking him apart right there.

You cupped his face with both hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears from under his eyes, “baby, shh. You didn’t hurt me,” you whispered, voice soft, full of warmth, “not even a little. I promise. You feel so good, Hee. C’mon breathe with me, okay?”

He stared at you, eyes wide and wet, lips pressed tight together like he was trying not to fall apart completely. He gave the smallest shake of his head, refusing to speak at first.

You leaned up and kissed him, just a gentle press of your lips until he softened into it, a shaky little exhale leaving him. When you pulled back you kept your forehead against his, thumbs still stroking his cheeks.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “I can feel it, baby. Something’s been eating at you. Please talk to me.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, eyes fluttering shut for a second as another tear slipped free. His voice came out small, cracked, almost ashamed.

“Jaemin cornered me after class,” he whispered, “uh—he said I’m too soft, fucking whipped. That I’m just a pathetic rebound and you’d get bored of me in a week because someone like me could never keep a girl like you. Said you need someone who can actually fuck you right, not some gentle loser,” his breath hitched, “I just—I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. I wanted to prove I could be what you need, I know this isn’t what you wanted, our whole FWB thing.”

You stayed right there, forehead pressed to his, thumbs still gently wiping his tears as you looked at him with nothing but softness in your eyes, heart hurting at how the guy who makes you the happiest was reduced to some loser by your pathetic excuse of an ex. 

“I like you exactly how you are,” you let out, heat creeping up your neck, the position only making you feel more with his cock still buried deep in you. 

“Y—you like me?” He gasped as you licked his tear away, “really?”

“I do, Hee. I forgot about the whole no strings arrangement long back, I found myself wanting to spend more time with you, and who am I to deprive myself of happiness?” You chuckled, “you can’t force your feelings to go away, or change yourself, y’know? Fuck Jaemin, he doesn’t know shit, he could never make me cum and he definitely could never make me feel the way you do.”

Heeseung let out a shaky, broken exhale, his forehead still resting against yours as fresh tears welled up, “I thought—I thought I was ruining everything. I was so scared you’d realize I’m just the rebound, and you’d leave. I didn’t want to lose you, so I tried to be someone else tonight. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, Hee, not even close. You could never ruin this. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I don’t mind you being rough or soft, yeah?”

He swallowed hard, “I don’t want to be rough, I never really did. I just, I thought that’s what you needed from me. But I want to be soft with you, can I—can I do that? Please?”

You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped you, the sound made his lips twitch, and then he was smiling—small, shy, and so genuinely relieved it made your heart squeeze. He immediately hid his face in the crook of your neck, embarrassed, his breath warm against your skin as he let out a quiet, shy laugh of his own.

“Stop laughing at me,” he mumbled into your neck, but you could hear the smile in his voice, the way his shoulders relaxed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” you whispered, still chuckling as you threaded your fingers through his hair, “I’m laughing because you’re adorable, and I like you like this. Exactly like this.”

Heeseung lifted his head just enough to look at you again, eyes still glassy but now shining with something brighter as he managed another kiss, pouring every unsaid feeling into it. When he pulled back, his voice was soft. 

“I love you,” he breathed out, “I’m so in love with you. I don’t want no-strings, I want everything. Mornings where I wake up and you’re stealing my hoodie. Nights where we fall asleep tangled up like this, and I want all of it with you.”

You smiled against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst, “I’m falling in love with you too, Hee, I want all of that with you too.”

He whined, kissing you all clumsy, rolling his hips in long, loving strokes that made you feel every inch of him. The pace was unhurried, like he wanted to savor every second.

“Feel that?” He whispered, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked on you, “I love being inside you like this. I love feeling you around me—so warm, so perfect.”

You moaned softly, legs wrapping tighter around him as you rocked up to meet his slow thrusts, “you feel so good, baby.”

Heeseung smiled again with a giggle, hiding his face in your neck for a moment before kissing along your throat, “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, “the way you look when I’m inside you, the little sounds you make, I could stay like this for hours. Just loving you, just making you feel good.”

His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning it gently above your head while the other slid down to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, tender circles. Every thrust was accompanied by quiet words—I love you, you feel incredible, never letting you go, whispered against your skin like prayers.

You squeezed his hand, “I love how you make me feel safe, don’t ever change, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise, i just want to make you feel loved. Every single day.”

The room filled with nothing but the soft creak of the bed, your quiet moans, and his gentle praises. He kept the pace slow and deep, grinding against you on every thrust so your clit rubbed perfectly against him. His lips never left your skin—kissing your neck, your jaw, your mouth, your collarbone like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion as he rolled his hips again, “I’m so lucky you’re mine. So fucking lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby. Now keep loving me just like this, I never want this to end.”

Heeseung smiled against your mouth, eyes shining with pure adoration, and did exactly that—loving you slow, deep, and full of so much tenderness it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared.

Just the two of you, and the moonlight in the room. 

MEANWHILE:

You shushed Heeseung for the nth time as he smiled against your palm, but you were serious, peering down the hallway from the narrow alcove where you’d both hidden behind a pillar.

“Stop smiling, you’re going to get us caught,” you whispered, though your own grin was fighting to break free.

Heeseung only chuckled quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist, “can’t help it. You look so adorable trying to be all serious.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt warm as his arms stayed wrapped around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.

The classroom door finally swung open. Students spilled out, and then Jaemin stepped into the hallway, laughing loudly with his friends.

The second you saw him, you stepped out without hesitation, you lifted the chilled cup and poured the entire icy matcha straight over his head from the first floor, the aim being too good to your surprise. 

Jaemin gasped, stumbling back as green liquid drenched his hair and hoodie, “what the fuck—”

Loud laughter exploded from the crowd around him. Phones came out instantly, people whistling and clapping, and you didn’t stay to admire your work.

You grabbed Heeseung’s hand and ran, both of you sprinting down the side hallway until you ducked into an empty stairwell, breathless and laughing.

“Oh my god, his face,” you wheezed, back pressed against the wall.

Heeseung leaned over you, one hand beside your head, smiling so beautifully it made your knees weak—eyes crinkled, full of pure adoration and joy.

“You’re insane, taking revenge for me again,” he said softly, “and I’m so in love with you.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly, so full of everything you two had become. When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he was still smiling that same breathtaking smile.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, grinning, and you did mean it with your whole heart as you proceeded to say. 

“I love you more.”

THANK YOU FOR READING

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It really was a sight to see. 

Your best friend pressed up against your boyfriend like they’d invented the concept of gravity, her hands shamelessly roaming under the hem of his shirt while his mouth dragged along the line of her neck. 

No shame, not even a flicker of it. To the drunk, sweating crowd around them, it probably just looked like another hazy corner of the party—two bodies tangled in the dim lights, music blasting so loud it swallowed any guilt, if they cared to harbour any that is, but you saw everything.

To be more precise, you found out yesterday when they got bold enough to fuck each other at your boyfriend’s apartment, and oblivious enough to not notice your presence, or your low chuckle at the depravity of the situation. Instead of feeling mad, you felt that bone deep numbness. Why trust anyone at this point?

Emotionally unavailable, the label had never sounded so accurate, but was it truly your fault when you never felt the need to expect anything from him? It certainly was an experience faking your orgasms for him, but you cared on the deeper levels—well, till you found him balls deep inside your now ex best friend. 

So you sat there now on the worn leather couch, legs crossed, drink dangling from your fingers, watching them like it was just another Tuesday night show.

“Oh hey—you’re here! Have you seen Mina?” 

The voice cut through the haze of music and chatter, slightly breathless. You turned your head slowly, lashes lowering just a fraction as your gaze landed on Heeseung.

He stood a few feet away, tall and striking even in the crowd, dark maroon hair tousled like he’d rushed all the way here. His sharp jaw was tense, brows drawn together in mild confusion as he scanned the room. The leather jacket hanging off his broad shoulders caught the shifting lights, and for a moment, you wondered how he’d react to the news of his girlfriend in the arms of his best friend. 

You tilted your head, lips curving into a slow, amused smile that didn’t quite reach your eye, 

“yeah,” you said, voice smooth as you clicked your tongue, “right over there.”

You lifted your glass in a lazy gesture toward the corner, and Heeseung followed your line of sight. The shift in his expression was immediate and downright visceral. His eyes widened, pupils blown with disbelief as he took in the scene of Mina’s leg hooked shamelessly around his best friend’s hip, her mouth pressed to the underside of his jaw while his hands roamed with practiced familiarity. 

The way they moved together spoke of stolen nights and secret touches—months, maybe longer.

“They’re cheating,” you added lightly, almost conversationally, as if commenting on the weather as you took a slow sip from your drink, “bold choice, doing it in plain sight like this. Guess they figured neither of us would actually show up tonight—I mean, I did mention I wouldn’t.”

Heeseung’s adam’s apple bobbed visible, a flash of hurt brewed behind his eyes, before it ignited this anger within him, “what the fuck—” the words slipped out rather hoarse, broken. 

He didn’t really look at you, eyes locked on them as if he couldn’t look away. Before you could say anything else, he was moving, pushing through the dense crowd with single-minded intensity. You watched his retreating back for a moment, that same curiosity curling in your chest. It would’ve been a sight to stay and watch the fireworks, sure, but you just got up. 

You wove through the crowd without hurry, heels clicking softly up the narrow wooden stairs, each step carrying you farther from the mess downstairs.

The upstairs hallway was dimmer, and at the end of it, the balcony door was wide open, letting the night air slip in. You stepped outside, pulling a cigarette from the pack tucked in your jacket, lips closing around it as you flicked your lighter. 

First drag hit deep, filling your lungs with that bitter, familiar burn. You leaned against the railing, letting the smoke curl out slow between your parted lips, eyes half-lidded against the wind tugging at your hair.

For a minute, everything felt almost peaceful, comfortable even, then the door scraped open behind you, and Heeseung stepped out, breathing hard like he’d run the whole way up. His hair was messier now, dark burgundy strands falling into his eyes, and his face—god, his face was a wreck. Eyes glassy with everything he was trying not to feel, cheeks flushed, mouth pressed into a thin, angry line.

Without asking, he closed the distance in two long strides and plucked it right from your lips.

A surprised little chuckle slipped out of you before you could stop it, and you observed how he took a deep, shaky drag from where your lipstick had stained the cigarette, holding it in for long before he blew the smoke up toward the dark sky. His free hand gripped the railing tight enough that his knuckles went white. 

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, voice rough, “how long? Just—tell me how long they’ve been doing this behind our backs.”

“Since at least yesterday,” you said, “I walked in on them fucking in his dorm, didn’t even have the decency to lock the door,” a faint smile ghosted your lips, “I just closed it again and left.”

Heeseung’s head turned toward you slowly, eyes wide with shock, the cigarette nearly slipping from his fingers, “you saw them and didn’t say shit?”

You shrugged, “what was there to say? They wanted each other, and I’ve never been the type to drown myself that deeply anyway. It just felt odd to see Mina do it, that part did affect me, years of friendship drowned for what? A guy.”

Heeseung let out a disbelieving huff, running a hand through his already tousled hair, “Jaemin was my best friend, man. We’ve been tight since freshman year—shared everything. And now this?” His voice cracked slightly, “feels like a fucking knife in the back from both sides. They looked guilty for a second but didn’t even bother following me here to explain themselves, though they did have the audacity to ask me not to tell you.”

You studied him for a moment through his ramble, the way the balcony light cast sharp shadows across his sharp jaw and the pained lines around his eyes. He looked devastatingly undone, yet there was something resilient in the way he stood there, refusing to crumble completely. The sight stirred a spark in your chest—that familiar free-spirited curiosity. 

You passed the cigarette back to him after a puff, “people reveal their true colors eventually. It’s pragmatic to accept it and keep moving instead of letting it rot you from the inside.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with shared betrayal. Heeseung took another drag, then offered it back, his gaze lingering on your face with astute observation, like he was trying to peel back the layers of your calm detachment, he just couldn’t understand how you seemed so—unaffected?

You crushed the cigarette against the railing and flicked it into the night. That proactive restlessness bloomed brighter inside you, eyes gleaming with mischievous insight.

“Wanna do something fun?” You asked. 

Heeseung blinked, lips parting in surprise, “fun? Like right now?”

“Mhm,” you stepped closer, “are you okay with a kiss, Heeseung?”

His breath hitched audibly, throat bobbing, “a—a kiss?” The word came out hoarse, almost stunned. His gaze dropped to your mouth, lingering, before snapping back up, cheeks flushing darker, “you serious?”

“Very,” you held his stare, “yes or no?”

“Isn’t that cheating?” He looked devastatingly clueless even mumbling that question, and you raised your brow. 

“Yes or no?” You asked again. 

He searched your face, the raw pain still churning, but something hungrier kindled beneath it—curiosity. After a beat, he gave one slow nod making you chuckle.

You took his hand and led him back down into the party’s suffocating crowd, and he followed without asking any questions. In the corner, Jaemin and Mina were still shamelessly entangled, her arms looped around his neck, his hands possessive on her hips.

You stepped straight into their space without hesitation, grabbing Jaemin’s arm to pull him back. 

The sharp crack of your palm across Jaemin’s cheek echoed through the room, his head whipped sideways. Mina stumbled back with a gasp as the crowd around you froze, then erupted in murmurs and the bright flare of phone screens.

“What the fuck?” Jaemin snarled, clutching his reddening face, eyes blazing the instant recognition hit, “w—wait, Y/N?” 

Mina’s face drained of color, “we—we didn’t think you would show up tonight—”

You desperately wanted to laugh, but you maintained your character, cause how were they dumb enough to think that you wouldn’t find out, especially when Heeseung did too. 

“Clearly,” you said, getting ready to lie beautifully, “Heeseung told me everything. How long have you two been fucking behind our backs?”

Whispers exploded outward. Jaemin fumbled for excuses, mouth opening uselessly.

“I didn’t expect this from you Mina,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek as tears started forming in her eyes.

“No—listen to me, we didn’t—”

“Whatever,” you continued, a crystalline laugh escaping you, “be happy with each other, I’ll find someone better.”

You turned away from their frozen faces, and Heeseung stood right there, looking completely wrecked. Your eyes met his, like really met them. For a second everything else including the stares, the phones, the bass—faded into background noise.

He looked at you like you were the only person left in the room, and maybe to him, you were. 

You stepped in close, sliding your hands up his chest. His heart was pounding under your palms, doe eyes full of trust and anticipation for what was to come. Heeseung’s breath caught, but he didn’t move away. His hands found your waist almost on instinct, fingers spreading wide and warm through your clothes, before pressing in to hold on tighter. 

His gaze dropped to your mouth before flicking back up, nodding slightly as he understood the question you asked him earlier. 

Which is why you tilted your head and kissed him.

You slotted your lips against his rather softly, just to test him at first. His mouth was warm, faintly tasting of smoke and the drink he’d had earlier. He froze for half a second, stunned at the easiness of it all, then let out this quiet, broken sound against your lips and kissed you back. 

The kiss turned deeper fast, hungrier. Your tongue brushed his and he groaned low in his throat, the vibration rolling straight through you. You slid one hand into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands, while the other stayed fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer. Heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened almost painfully so, one arm wrapping further around your back to press you flush against him. His chest rose and fell hard against yours. You could feel every shaky breath, the way his fingers trembled just slightly where they dug into your sides.

It was messy, a little desperate. Tongues sliding, breaths mixing hot and uneven, the faint wet sound of it somehow louder than the music behind. He kissed like he was pouring every bit of hurt and anger and sudden want into you as you took it all, giving the same right back.

When you finally pulled back just enough to breathe, Heeseung was completely gone. Lips swollen and shiny, chest heaving like he couldn’t catch his breath, eyes dark and hazy like his brain had short-circuited. A wrecked little sound slipped out of him, half-gasp, half-groan—as he stared at you, dazed and breathing hard.

Your smile embodied satisfaction as you leaned in again and pressed one slow, teasing peck to his parted lips, letting it linger just enough to make his breath hitch all over again.

Jaemin and Mina were staring like they’d seen a ghost with their jaws dropped, faces pale, eyes wide with pure disbelief. The whole party had gone dead quiet around you, everyone watching, phones still pointed your way like this was the best drama they’d seen all year (it probably was).

You laced your fingers with Heeseung’s, gave his hand a light squeeze, and tugged him toward the door.

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmured close to his ear, voice low and a little playful against his skin.

Heeseung didn’t argue, just followed, still breathing hard, fingers gripping yours tight as the door swung shut behind you. 

The cool night air hit your heated skin, and for the first time tonight, everything felt wide open again.

A rather loud screech right next to your left ear woke you up, and you wondered if the world had somehow been corrupted by zombies because there’s no other explanation for such sounds, but your friend made it possible somehow. 

You jolted, heart kicking once before your brain caught up. Sunoo was practically jumping beside your bed, phone in his hand, “one time—one single time I decide to stay in and catch up on sleep and you create a fucking scene? Gosh, babe.”

Winter shoved the door the rest of the way open with her shoulder, hoodie sleeves pushed up to her elbows, hair still a wild mess from her deep sleep. She planted herself at the foot of your bed, arms crossed, eyes narrowing at you, “fuck, Y/N,” she said before her tone got softer, “are you okay? I fucking knew that girl was a snake from the first time she came over. And your boyfriend? I always hated him, al-fucking-ways.”

You were still blinking, eyes half open and not willing to adjust to the brightness. Right then, a chuckle escaped your lips at the memory of last night—and you tried to remember the last time you felt so satisfied (maybe never?). 

Sunoo dropped onto the edge of your mattress without waiting, “I always said we are your besties. The kind who’d help you hide a body, no questions asked. Ride or die, baby.”

You sat up straight, blanket pooling around your waist, and opened your arms because of course they were right, “come here, idiots.”

They didn’t hesitate, Winter climbing on first, wrapping her arms around you like she could shield you from the whole damn world. Sunoo piled on top a second later, all limbs and very dramatic sighs, squishing the three of you into a tangled heap of familiar warmth. 

“Yeah,” you murmured into Sunoo’s shoulder, voice muffled, “you two are stuck with me.”

Winter huffed a soft laugh against your neck, “good, because we’re not letting you deal with that snake ex-bestie and cheating ex-boyfriend shit alone. We’re burning that chapter together.”

Sunoo’s voice came out muffled too, “and—we’re keeping the video forever, that kiss looked cozy girl, what else did you do—”

You let yourself sink into the warmth for a long moment, the bone-deep numbness from yesterday easing just enough to let something real and grateful slip through. The sting of Mina’s betrayal was still there, but it felt distant now—almost coherent in its simplicity. 

People drift apart, friendships end. You’d always known that. What intrigued you more was how easily these two could make the weight feel lighter, their amiable chaos wrapping around you like a promise that some things indeed were here to stay. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung was suffering. 

Jay had shoved his phone into Heeseung’s face, close enough for him to make out, uh, absolutely nothing. It seemed like a blurry mess of lights until Jay yanked it back to show Heeseung a pixel version of you grabbing his jacket and pulling him into what appeared to be a passionate kiss. 

The angle caught the exact moment his hands found your waist, the way his shoulders had tensed then eased up all at once. Heeseung’s ears burned red so fast it felt like someone had lit a match under his skin.

“Bro,” Jay said, grinning, “the video is everywhere, especially on the uni insta page for students. Someone made it into a trend—it’s actually insane.”

Before Heeseung could even form a coherent thought, the bedroom door slammed open hard enough to rattle the frame, scaring both the boys. 

Jake came barreling in, hair still sticking up from sleep, eyes wild, “you bitch—you kissed Y/N? She’s mine—I called dibs on her months ago!”

Heeseung groaned, dragging both hands down his face, “she’s not an object, Jake.”

“Oh fuck you—you know I like her,” Jake shot back, dropping on his knees. 

Sunghoon strolled in next, casual as ever, one shoulder propped against the wall. He let out a low whistle and Heeseung wondered what the fuck is wrong with his friends, “so you’re what? Dating now? That was one hell of a plot twist.”

Jay sniggered, not even trying to hide it, “nah dude, you think he can handle someone like Y/N?”

Jake tried to butt in again, “I can—” but the rest of them talked right over him like usual.

Heeseung sat up slowly, the full reminder of the last night coming right back to him. The slap echoing through the room, the way you’d looked at him right before you kissed him, eyes bright with that reckless spark. The way he’d kissed you back like he enjoyed it. He swallowed hard, throat tight.

“Did I cheat on Mina?” He asked quietly.

The room went still for half a second, all three of them looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Jay let out a disbelieving laugh, “she cheated on you while you were still together.”

“Yeah but I kissed someone else literally a few minutes later—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon cut in, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Heeseung stared at the blanket pooled over his lap, replaying the kiss again—the heat of your mouth, the way your fingers had twisted in his hair, that soft, teasing peck you pressed to his lips after. It had been the best kiss he’d ever had. The whole situation felt far too complicated for the simple labels his friends were throwing arounf, and yet he couldn’t stop the memory from looping behind his eyes.

Jay sighed, softer this time, leaning back on his elbows, “did it feel good?”

They all looked at him. Heeseung didn’t answer right away, he just swallowed again, the memory burning behind his eyes like it refused to fade.

You on the other hand were absolutely not functioning when Sunoo had a trillion questions lined up for you—all of which consisted of Heeseung. You three had just managed to make coffees when the loud knock interrupted you. A sigh was all you could manage as you opened the door to find your pathetic excuse of an ex standing there with—roses? Wow, he didn’t even have the decency to remember that you were allergic. 

He spoke up before you could, “I know i deserved that slap.”

Well, obviously. 

“I messed up—I swear I don’t want her.” He was looking at you with that pout he mustered whenever you both had disagreements. 

You bit down your laugh, “yeah? So?”

“Take me back, baby, please?”

Right then someone flew past the door, and your mouth hung open as Sunoo straight up landed a kick on Jaemin’s thigh, resulting in him falling down with pain. Now, you laughed freely as Sunoo bent down to warn him, “stay away from her, okay?”

Jaemin turned to look at you, eyes wide, “what—”

“You heard him, we’re over, Jaemin,” you shrugged, wrapping your arm around Sunoo as you both walked inside, Sunoo glaring at man till the door closed shut. 

Jaemin stayed on the ground for a few more seconds, roses scattered around him, a thorn making him bleed just enough for him to roll his eyes.

That went well.

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the leaves of the uni garden, casting dappled shadows across the wooden bench where you sat. It had been three days since the party, and the campus still hadn’t let either of you forget it. Random students kept approaching you in the hallways, the library, even the coffee line—some offering awkward condolences, others straight-up calling the slap and the kiss badass with wide-eyed admiration. 

You sipped your mango matcha slowly, the garden was quiet now, just the distant hum of students walking between buildings and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. You felt normal, jolly even, like it hadn’t affected you, but even you couldn’t deny how good of a kiss it had been. 

Too lost in the pdf in your iPad, you didn’t notice Heeseung approaching until his shadow fell across your lap. He stopped a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, hair still slightly messy and he somehow made it look good.

“Hey,” he said, voice polite as it had always been, “can we talk?”

You looked up, lips curving into an amiable smile, “sure, c’mere sit,” you patted the empty space beside you on the bench and held out your mango matcha toward him, “want some? It’s good.”

Heeseung only cocked his brow, “same straw?”

You blinked innocently, “you’re saying that as if we didn’t make out in front of the entire party three days ago.”

He stared at you for a moment, intrigued cause of your carefree answer, before he reached out and took the cup anyway. He drank without hesitation, the straw brushing his lips where yours had been moments ago, and when he lowered it, the corner of his mouth twitched.

You chuckled, watching the way his shoulders loosened just a fraction, “so—talk, what’s on your mind, Heeseung?”

He handed the cup back, fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary, “I’ve been thinking about that night. A lot.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but his eyes stayed on yours, “the kiss, the way you just handled everything. I keep replaying it and I can’t make it make sense.”

You tilted your head, taking another slow sip before answering, “what’s there to make sense of? They cheated, we both saw it. I decided not to let it ruin my night and you were there. The kiss happened—simple.”

He let out a short, disbelieving breath, running a hand through his hair, “It’s not simple for me. Mina was my girlfriend, Jaemin was my best friend since freshman year. And so much happened in like—an hour,” he paused, eyes searching your face, “did it really not mess with you at all?”

You shrugged, “It stung a little actually. Losing Mina as a friend after all those years felt kinda—odd? But drowning in it? Not really my thing.” Your lips curved again, “i’ve never been the type to hand my whole heart over and expect it to stay put.”

Heeseung watched you for a long moment, “you make it sound so coherent,” he muttered, almost to himself, “like it’s all just—logical. Meanwhile I’ve been walking around campus getting stopped by random people asking if we’re together now. It’s been three days and I still feel like my head’s spinning.”

You laughed lightly, “same here, a guy offered to buy me coffee because I deserved better, It’s weirdly entertaining.”

Heeseung’s mouth twitched into a half-smile, the first real one you’d seen from him today, “yeah, even my friend Jake was sort of, how do I even put it? But yeah, he wasn’t thrilled, hes got some crush on you.” 

Your eyes sparkled, “wait, isn’t he the cute one with an accent? I like him.”

He shook his head at how you would probably encourage Jake, the thought was rather unsettling, then looked at you again, more serious, “but, y’know—the kiss, that part wasn’t just for show.”

That made you pause for a moment, and you held his gaze, intrigued by the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to figure out how someone could be so calm in the middle of the wreckage.

“So what are you saying?” You asked, voice soft but direct, “you regret it?”

“No,” he answered almost immediately, “I don’t regret it, that’s the problem. It felt good and I keep wondering what the hell that means when everything else is such a mess.”

You leaned back against the bench, letting the sun warm your face for a second, “it doesn’t have to mean anything big, I mean—we both got screwed over.” You watched how pretty he looked under the sunlight, lips slightly red cause he’d been biting them, “maybe we don’t overthink it. Maybe we just—just see where it goes.”

Heeseung took the cup again, fingers brushing yours once more, and this time he didn’t pull away right away, “you’re really okay with that?”

You smiled, “I’m okay with a lot of things, Heeseung. Especially if they feel good.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The conversation didn’t need to be solved today, for now, sitting here with him, sharing the same straw and the same tension, felt like enough.

Heeseung has always been a man of few words, but even those little words seemed to disappear when you were around. And the worst part? You weren’t even aware of it.

You weren’t the one to intrude on anyone’s personal space, and that included Heeseung, much to his relief (or dismay?), he was just—confused.

A week had slipped by since the garden talk, and the quiet tension between you two had only grown heavier. He’d spent the days avoiding Mina’s messages, the knot in his chest tightening every time her name appeared. But you—you were everywhere. In literature class you sat three rows ahead, never together, but he stared. He couldn’t stop noticing the way the light caught the curve of your neck when you leaned over your notes, the soft way your fingers tapped the edge of your pen, the small, absent smile that played on your lips when something in the lecture amused you. Every stolen glance left him more tangled than the last.

Tonight the restlessness had won. He pulled on a hoodie and walked to the 24-hour convenience store near the dorms, craving something mindless like his ride or die—ramen to quiet the noise in his head.

The annoyingly white lights buzzed overhead as he stepped inside, grabbing a basket and turning down the snack aisle, mind still half-lost in yesterday’s class when you’d stretched and your shirt had ridden up just enough to—

He stopped just then, cause you were right there,

standing in the middle of the aisle in soft pink pajama shorts that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs and a matching oversized hoodie that had slipped off one shoulder, you looked unfairly soft and warm, like you’d just rolled out of bed. Your hair was a little messy, and you were reaching up for a pack of strawberry gummies, the hem of the shorts riding higher with the movement.

Heeseung’s mouth went dry, and he wanted to slap himself for acting like a fucking creep.

You turned at the sound of his footsteps, eyes meeting his across the narrow aisle. A slow smile curved your lips, the same one that had been haunting him for days.

“Hey,” you waved at him, like running into each other at midnight in pajamas was the most normal thing in the world, “couldn’t sleep either?”

Heeseung swallowed, stepping closer despite the way his pulse kicked up. The faint scent of your shampoo clinging to your hair, “needed ramen, the boys emptied the fridge I swear,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

You nodded in understanding, “same lowkey—was staring at the ceiling but then decided to get out.” You tilted your head, looking at him a little closer, eyes tracing the tired lines on his face, “you look like you’ve got a lot going on up there. Want to talk about it while we walk back?”

Heeseung hesitated for half a second, then nodded, “yeah, sounds good.”

You paid for your stuff together, the cashier barely glancing up, and stepped back out into the cool night air. The walk was easy at first, with absolutely no words being exchanged, your shoulders brushed every few steps, Heeseung kept his hands in his pockets, but he could feel the warmth of you next to him, the soft brush of your hoodie sleeve against his every time you shifted.

“Been a week,” he said after a few minutes, “Mina keeps texting, and of course I haven’t answered. It feels weird ignoring her, but answering would feel worse.”

You hummed, glancing at him sideways, “I get that. Sometimes the easiest thing is just to let it sit there until it stops stinging, y’know?” Your arm bumped his again as you walked, and you didn’t pull away, “you holding up okay with all of it?”

He just nodded, granting you a smile which made the corner of your lips lift up too, and he asked you the same, to which you laughed as if nothing had even happened. 

It was so nice just walking beside you, even in silence, at this cursed hour of midnight, though Heeseung would argue and say that he felt more awake now than he did the whole day. 

The dorm buildings came into view too soon, but then Heeseung saw something that made his steps falter on the pavement, body going rigid right beside you. It made you follow his line of sight, and of course—Mina was there, walking straight towards his building, head down and mind completely focused on her phone. She hadn’t noticed you yet, but it was clear that she was going to approach Heeseung. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, panic flashing across his features in a way you could feel it reach you too.

Before you could provide him with two words of comfort, his hand slid around your waist, fingers spreading wide and warm through the thin fabric of your hoodie. He pulled you in close, so close that your side pressed flush against his, the heat of his body juxtaposing the chill of the air. His palm was steady but his fingers trembled a little against your hip as you caught the faint scent of his cologne, it was clean and woody, just how you liked it. 

“Play along, please?” He whispered urgently against your ear, voice rougher now.

You only chuckled, leaning into him as if you’d done it before, slipping your arm around his back, fingers resting lightly against the small of his back. Your head tilted up towards him, a soft smile curving up as you looked at him. Heeseung was flushed cause, damn were you good at acting. 

“Got it,” you murmured back.

Mina looked up at the exact moment, eyes widened at the sight, a gasp leaving her lips as she watched Heeseung’s hand slide lower on your back as you reached his dorm door.

You didn’t even realize you were biting your bottom lip until Heeseung’s gaze dropped straight to it, his breath hitched, thumb pausing on your cheek as his other hand came up to cup your face, warm palms cradling your jaw like he was afraid you might pull away.

“Can I?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching yours.

You didn’t answer, just leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and pulled him into the kiss.

Your lips met his softly at first and Heeseung made a quiet sound against your mouth, his hands cupping your face fully now, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as he kissed you back. The taste of him was faint, a hint of the cherry juice he must have had earlier. Your own hands slid up his chest, fisting lightly in his hoodie as you tilted your head to kiss him a little deeper.

When you finally pulled back, Heeseung’s eyes were dark and a little dazed, lips parted and cheeks flushed. His thumbs were still stroking your cheeks, reluctant to let go.

Mina stood frozen a few feet away, face pale, cause she swore to herself it was an act, but this? It didn’t seem like one. 

Heeseung didn’t look at her, just tightening his grip on your waist and guided you through the door, pulling you inside with him. The warmth of his palm stayed glued to the small of your back the whole way, steady now, like he needed the contact to stay grounded.

Inside the apartment, Jake was sprawled on the couch in the living room, a half-eaten pizza box open on the coffee table, some mindless show playing low on the TV. He froze mid-bite when he saw you, eyes going wide.

You smiled, bright and completely at ease, like showing up at this hour with Heeseung’s arm still around you was the most normal thing in the world, “oh—hey. Jake, right?”

“Y/N? Uh yes—hi, you’re here?” Jake stuttered, making Hee roll his eyes.

You just walked over to him, dropping onto the couch beside him acting all normal though your heartbeat said otherwise, “yeah! Mind if I steal a bite?”

Jake blinked, then grinned like an idiot and lifted the slice he was holding right to your mouth, “here, go for it.”

You leaned in and took a bite straight from his hand, cheese stretching between your fingers as you chewed, “mhm, this is actually good, thanks.”

Jake’s face lit up even more, “right? You can have the whole slice if you want.”

Heeseung stood there watching the whole thing, jaw tight. He lasted about five seconds before he groaned low in his throat, “alright, that’s enough.” He crossed the room in two quick strides, caught your wrist gently but firmly, and tugged you up from the couch, “c’mon.”

You let him pull you up, giving Jake a little wave over your shoulder, “night, Jakey. Thanks for the pizza.”

Jake just waved back, still grinning, “anytime!”

The second Heeseung’s door clicked shut behind you, silence filled the room—it was dim, lit only by the desk lamp, the air suddenly too warm and too small. Heeseung’s back pressed against the door, eyes dark and fixed on you before he walked over and plopped on his bed. 

You clicked your tongue, tilting your head at him, “now she’s gonna think we’re dating.”

Heeseung rubbed a hand over his face, looking genuinely sorry, “yeah—I know. I’m so sorry—I just panicked and pulled you into this whole thing. You didn’t have to go along with it.”

You shrugged, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. Then, without warning, you turned and sat right down on his lap, straddling his thighs like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heeseung’s breath caught, hands instinctively landing on your hips to steady you, eyes wide with surprise.

“I did kiss you first at the party,” you said, “so it’s kinda my fault too.”

Heeseung’s fingers flexed on your hips, holding you there. He gulped, throat bobbing visibly as he looked up at you, “so, now what?” he asked, voice rough.

You shrugged again, still sitting comfortably on his lap, fingers playing with the collar of his hoodie, “it’s your call, Hee.”

You kept talking as Heeseung pondered deeply about his choices. He didn’t register you saying something about how Jake’s face was priceless because Heeseung wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes had dropped to the exposed line of your clavicle where your hoodie had slipped down, tracing the smooth skin there, then moving up to your lips—still a little shiny from the greasy pizza, slightly parted as you spoke. The way you were sitting on him, the soft weight of you on his thighs—it was too stimulating for him. 

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in and kissed you hard, mouth practically crashing into yours, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, the other staying firm on your hip to keep you right where you were. There was nothing hesitant about it this time—it was hungry, deep. His tongue brushed yours, and he groaned quietly into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips. You could feel the way his fingers tightened in your hair, the way his chest rose and fell fast against yours, the way his body reacted instantly to having you on his lap like this.

You kissed him back just as hard, hands sliding up his chest to fist in his hoodie. A soft moan slipped out of you when he sucked on your bottom lip, and Heeseung made this low, wrecked sound in response, hips shifting under you.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth, barely pulling back, “this okay? Tell me if you want to stop.”

You shook your head, lips brushing his as you answered, voice already breathy, “don’t stop—keep going.”

He groaned and kissed you harder, tongue sliding against yours as one hand slid under your hoodie, palm warm on your bare back. You rocked your hips down against him and he moaned into your mouth, the sound raw.

You pulled back just enough to speak, forehead resting against his, “we doing this then?” You breathed against his lips, “no strings, just whenever we want or need?”

Heeseung swore you could read minds, “yeah,” he sighed in pleasure, “I want that—you and me, no strings.”

You smiled against his lips and kissed him again, deeper, grinding down slowly, “good fucking boy.”

He groaned louder, the sound vibrating through you as his fingers dug into your thighs, “shit—I’ve been so fucking pent up,” he muttered between kisses, hips rolling up to meet yours, “all week because of you.”

You moaned softly, rocking against him again with a chuckle, “that’s adorable, keep going, yeah? Don’t stop.”

He flipped you suddenly, laying you on your back and settling between your thighs. The new position made you both moan—the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, lips chasing yours mindlessly as his tongue slid against yours, hand tracing higher under your hoodie, hips grinding down slowly. 

“God, you feel good,” he muttered, pulling you down for another kiss.

You nodded, moaning softly into his mouth, “so do you.”

The room filled with the sounds of lips, heavy breathing, and quiet moans as you kept moving together, hands roaming, bodies pressing closer. The conversation faded into breathy words and soft sounds between kisses, and honestly, both of you didn’t care about much anymore. You both were just two horny adults functioning on a verbal agreement with no rules whatsoever. 

Outside in the living room, Jake had just taken another bite of pizza when the first loud moan drifted through the door. His eyes widened with betrayal—the slice slipping from his fingers and landed cheese-side down on the floor with a pathetic splat.

He stared at the closed door for a long second, mouth still full.

“Well—shit.”

You didn’t know that the consequences of spending one night with Heeseung could be so dire, granted you didn’t go beyond some innocent humping which bestowed you with the absolute pleasure of seeing Heeseung desperate and flushed underneath you. 

The question bugged you—why would Mina even wish to leave such a beautiful man who’s very willing to provide pleasure? 

You were still turning that over in your head as you walked down the hallway, iPad tucked under your arm, one AirPod in, but your mind was elsewhere—which was odd considering you never were the kind to just stand and ponder about random things, during the day time at least. The last time it happened was when you were a kid and Zayn had left One direction. 

Regardless, you chuckled at the idea of Heeseung being the one to garner your attention, since you never saw him in that light before—something about friends’ partners being inanimate to you. Either way, you started walking back towards your dorm since the lectures were over, only to be stopped by Mina blocking your path with a scowl on her face. 

You raised an eyebrow, “hey?” 

“We need to talk,” she huffed, looking rather tired, maybe with the way people stopped the second they sensed any drama, and why wouldn’t they? You both were the centre of it given the circumstances. 

“Do we really?” You gave her a lazy look, knowing well it bothered her. 

Her jaw clenched. “You kissed Heeseung. In front of everyone. While he was still with me.”

A couple more heads turned. You could feel eyes on you now, phones probably already sliding out of pockets.

You let out a short breath, almost a laugh, “while he was still with you? That’s rich. Last time I checked, you were the one fucking my boyfriend in his dorm with the door wide open. I walked in on you two, actually. So maybe don’t lecture me about cheating.”

Mina’s cheeks flushed, “that’s not the same—”

“It kind of is,” you cut in, keeping your voice even, “Heeseung didn’t deserve to find out like that, neither of us did, but at least I didn’t sneak around for months like a coward. And yeah, I kissed him—I’d do it again. He’s too good for the way you two treated him.”

Mina’s eyes flashed with anger, “you’re no better than me. You basically cheated too—”

“Bro, are you actually serious right now?”

A tall guy with messy black hair and a skateboard tucked under his arm stepped out from the edge of the crowd. You’d seen him around in a couple electives. He looked Mina up and down, completely unimpressed, having seen the scene at the party in flesh too. 

“Everyone’s seen the video,” he said, loud enough that the people nearby nodded, “I literally saw you and Jaemin at the party. You’re the one who cheated, leave her alone.”

A girl a few feet away nodded like she agreed. Mina glanced around at all the stares, lips pressed tight, then spun on her heel and shoved through the crowd, practically running toward the exit.

You let out a real laugh this time, almost like you couldn’t believe this was real, that your own friend would turn against you in such a manner. Riki turned to you, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Damn,” he said, “that was satisfying.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, still chuckling as you started walking again, “thanks for stepping in. You really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you, “she’s been trying to change the perception, i saw her lying to my friend earlier. Someone had to say it. I’m Riki by the way, or Ni-ki, whatever.”

“Y/N,” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly, “seriously, I owe you a coffee for that.”

“Bet,” he smirked, already pulling his phone out, “just text me whenever. I’m free most afternoons.”

Ten feet away, half-hidden behind a cluster of students, Heeseung had stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. Jay almost walked straight into his back, headphones on so conveniently, he missed the whole commotion. 

“You good?” He asked, lifting one side of his headphones, “Heeseung?” He asked yet again when he didn’t get a reply. 

How would he? When Heeseung was deep in thoughts, the tips of his ears red. Everyone knew he was the guy who kept to himself, not the kind to insert himself into a fight—eventually leading to him never getting into a situation where he’d have to defend himself. 

But you did it so naturally with not a single hint of him witnessing the scene. It was heartwarming to say the least, the way you defended him so casually but your tone clearly portraying the care you harboured for him, even if it was little (as per Heeseung and his never ending self doubt). 

Before Jay could wave a hand in front of his face, Jake came barreling around the corner like he was late for everything in life, backpack slipping off one shoulder. Without missing a beat he lunged forward, locking an arm around Heeseung’s neck and yanking him down into a tight headlock. 

“Spill it right now—the hell did you do with Y/N last night, huh? I’m not letting go till you talk, dude, I swear to god—”

Much to his dismay, Heeseung pushed him off with ease, “the fuck? Get off,” he said, staring at Jake who looked like he hadn’t slept at all. 

Jay was completely lost, headphones now resting on his neck, “what am I missing here exactly? What even happened?”

Heeseung groaned, “nothing happened—” 

“Nah, he took Y/N to his room and then I heard moans. Moans—do you fucking get it? He’s actually fucking her.” Jake ranted, eyes blown wide. 

Jay’s eyebrows shot up, “wait, what? For real?”

Heeseung shoved Jake off properly this time, cheeks burning as he fixed his hoodie, “It’s not—fuck, can you not yell that in the middle of the hallway?”

Jake threw his hands up, looking genuinely offended, “I’m sorry, I was trying to eat pizza and process the fact that my dream girl was getting railed by my roommate. You could’ve at least given me a heads-up, man.”

Jay let out a low whistle, finally catching on. He crossed his arms, which had gotten muscular somehow, “so, you and Y/N? Like, actually?”

Heeseung rubbed a hand over his face, ears still red, “we have an arrangement of sorts. No strings attached, that’s it.”

Jake stared at him like he’d been shot in the chest, “no strings? She deserves love, she deserves aftercare and pampering and—”

Jay was never good at hiding his amusement, especially if it consisted of embarrassing one of his friends, “you sure you can actually do the no-strings thing? You’re the guy who gets attached after one good conversation. Remember that girl from school who just smiled at you in the library and you were googling how to ask someone on a date at two a.m.?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Heeseung muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched with his mind drifting back to you. 

Jake however, wasn’t done. He threw his hands up again, “I’m serious, I even fucking dropped the pizza slice she ate from.”

Jay snorted, “you’re never gonna let that go noq, are you?”

“Never,” Jake said, dead serious, “that could’ve been our indirect kiss.”

Heeseung shook his head, finally starting to walk again so they wouldn’t be late for class, “It’s fine. We’re both adults, it’ll be okay.”

Jay fell into step beside him, clapping him on the back a little too hard, “yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, I give it ten days before you’re buying her flowers and writing her name in your notes with hearts around it.”

“Two weeks,” Jake corrected, still sulking, “max.”

Heeseung didn’t bother arguing. He just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and kept walking, the stupid little smile refusing to leave his face completely.

You, meanwhile, had no idea any of that chaos had just exploded behind you. You groaned, sitting down on the couch, despising the silence that greeted you. Winter had gone to her family home for her cousin’s wedding, and Sunoo had conveniently decided to spend the night over at Hoon’s to torture him with some horror movie. 

And you were here, unsure of what to do tonight, and the newfound interest you’d found within your ex’s best friend. 

Whatever this was, it was definitely going to be interesting.

Turns out, the night wasn’t about to be boring at all. You had just gotten under the warmth of your duvet as your phone lit up, a text brightening your lock screen. Evidently, you seemed to be lurking in Heeseung’s mind as much as he had started persisting in yours. 

Heeseung: you up?  You: that’s such a fuckboy question  Heeseung: oh shit i didnt mean it that way You: hm? what’s it then  Heeseung: js felt like texting 

You clicked your tongue, rolling to your side, phone propped up against your fluffy pink pillow. 

You: mhm sure You: what are you doing rn then

The typing bubble popped up, disappeared, then popped up again—a proper reminder of how Heeseung’s personality shone through even through his texting patterns. 

Heeseung: just lying in bed Heeseung: can’t sleep for some reason

A second later your phone vibrated with a picture, a selfie to be precise. It was rather cinematic how Heeseung appeared to look even prettier with dim lights, messy dark hair falling into his eyes, no shirt, just the chain he always wore catching the light. He looked way too good for someone who was just lying in bed, lips slightly parted and swollen like he’d been biting them. The angle showed the sharp line of his collarbone and that adam’s apple, a few marks evident on his skin, courtesy of you. 

You stared for a second longer than you meant to, completely zoned in how beautiful a few marks made him look. 

You: oh wow  You: don’t you look dashing at one in the morning 

Heeseung only let out a breathy laugh, clearly preening under your praise, as if he hadn’t clicked eight pictures just so he could send you the most perfect one, in his standards at least. 

Heeseung: your turn 

The corner of your lip twitched up as you sat a little, tugged the neckline of your oversized tee down just enough so the soft swell of your tits spilled over the fabric, nipples barely hidden. You angled the camera, snapped it, and hit send without overthinking, knowing that the reply would come within seconds, and so it did. 

Heeseung: fuck Heeseung: you’re actually evil

You laughed under your breath and sent another one right after, taking off your tee fully, letting him know how hard your nipples had gotten already. 

You: now you. don’t be shy baby

Heeseung sent back a shot of his hand shoved down his sweats, gripping himself. The outline was obvious, the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband, flushed and already leaking. Then another one—his hand mid-stroke, thumb smearing the precum over the head. A low, rather shaky breath left his lips in the process, and he swore he hadn’t ever been the type to be so—so evidently horny before. 

You’d say you bring out the worst in people, but Heeseung would contradict it with a goofy smile saying how it’s the absolute best. With that thought, he hit sent. 

Heeseung: this is what you do to me

Your mouth went dry, the picture being enough for you to spread your legs under the duvet, only to push the duvet away entirely before angling your phone properly to ensure the slick on your cunt would be visible in the picture. 

You: see what you’re missing? Heeseung: jesus christ i’m actually throbbing

You bit down on your bottom lip, absolutely letting the pleasure of having Heeseung in control take over. So, instead of texting back, you tapped the voice message button and held it down.

Your voice came through low and teasing, a little breathy already.

“Aw, poor baby, you’re throbbing just from a picture? C’mon, lemme hear how good it feels, hm?”

You sent it without thinking twice, and he was quick to listen, his dick twitching just as he heard your voice. A few seconds later his voice message came back—husky, a little embarrassed, but clearly turned on. 

“Fuck—you’re so mean,” he whispered, which almost came out as a whine, “I’m so hard it hurts. I’m stroking it slow at first, like this—” You could hear the faint, wet sound of his hand moving, “but I keep thinking about how wet you looked in that last pic. Want my mouth on you so bad right now.”

You caressed your clit gently, letting your head fall back at his not so shy admissions. It was hot how he didn’t shy away from speaking his mind. 

“Hmm, good boy—keep stroking just like that. Faster now, I want to hear how desperate you sound for me. Tell me exactly what you’d do if you were here.”

His next voice message was even shakier, breathing heavier.

“I’d pull you on top of me, let you grind on my cock while you tell me how you want it. Fuck—I’d let you use me however you want. I’d suck on your tits while you ride me, make you moan my name louder, please take my name, please?”

You let out a soft, breathy moan right into your reply.

“Yeah? You like when I boss you around, Heeseung? Touch yourself exactly how I would. Tighten your grip—I know you’re close already, aren’t you?”

Heeseung’s voice cracked in the next voice note, barely above a whisper.

“Shit—yeah, I’m so close, your voice is driving me insane. Ah, fuck, wanna bury my face between your thighs right now—”

You were breathing harder too, fingers moving faster. You sent one last voice message, letting your voice be sultry. 

“Then cum for me, Hee. Let me hear it. I want you moaning my name when you do.”

That did it for him, he could barely even keep the phone in his hand, shivering at the hyper awareness of it all, of you. 

Somehow, you knew exactly the predicament he was undergoing, and you decided to spare the poor man, hitting the call button to free his hands. He picked up after a single ring. 

“Fuck—you’re actually perfect,” he panted, the wet sound of his hand still audible. “I’ve never been this gone from just voice messages before.”

You laughed softly, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a quiet moan, “then don’t stop. Stroke it faster for me, yeah? Be good, I want to hear every sound you make while you think about fucking me.”

Heeseung groaned, clearly trying (and failing) to stay quiet because of his friends, who were in the living room. “Feels so good but it’s not enough—I keep imagining you riding me, telling me to go harder, shit,—”

“You’re doing so well,” you praised, clenching around your fingers as he moans out your name, “imagine it’s my pussy instead of your hand. I’m so fucking wet for you right now. You’d slide in so easy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah—fuck, I would,” he whimpered, “I’d let you use me however you want. I’d let you choke me while you ride me, I don’t even care anymore—”

You moaned louder, fingers curling just right, “yeah, yeah, just keep talking like that and I’m gonna cum, be good c’mon, you’ll cum with me, yeah?”

Heeseung’s breathing turned ragged, desperate little sounds slipping out, “i’m so close—gonna—fuck, Y/N—”

You came first, moaning his name all soft and filthy into the phone. He followed right after with a choked groan, trying to muffle it against his pillow but failing miserably, and god knows what would happen if Sunoo (who was there all thanks to Sunghoon) was to witness this. 

For a long moment the only thing between you was heavy breathing.

Then Heeseung let out a soft, wrecked little laugh, making you grin lazily, “you did so well, Hee.”

He didn’t expect that, making him whine again, and you swore you could run to see him all flushed and blushing, “you’re so perfect.”

Your breath hitched at his whispered words, gulping as you stayed silent, letting your breathing even out. He was quiet for a beat too, but his mind wasn’t stopping at that. 

“Hey, uh I saw what you did earlier, in the hallway, with Mina.”

You blinked, surprised, “wait, you were there?”

“Yeah. I was a little further back, but i heard everything.” His voice dropped, almost like he was in awe, “the way you shut her down for me—defended me like that without even thinking. It was really fucking hot. Couldn’t stop thinking about it all night, that’s why I texted you.”

You let out a low chuckle at how unpredictable he was, “so that’s the real reason you were sending me nudes and moaning my name like a desperate little slut at one a.m., huh?”

If praises led Heeseung to moan, the degradation caused him to cry—not in a bad way of course. It was new for him too, as if he was learning about himself through you. And the voice you heard was beautiful, a broken cry of his desperation. 

“I see you’re into degradation,” you pointed out. 

“Fucking hell, even I didn’t know,” he breathed out, eyes closing. 

You only smirked, getting closer to the phone now.

“Wanna test how it plays out?”

“Why the fuck did Hoon just tell me you’re fucking Heeseung?” 

It was rather hard to distinguish his tone when he sounded both impressed and mad. Turns out, he was mad since he didn’t hear it from you first, then, he was impressed with how fast you moved on. Regardless, he didn’t let you live that down, trying to force the group together, only to see Heeseung squirming and you being absolutely normal. 

You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, still in the oversized hoodie you’d thrown on after your morning shower, when Sunoo burst through the door, Winter followed, sipping an iced latte and looking far too amused for someone who was supposed to be your emotional support. And so another interrogation session took place, which you survived (somehow). 

Other than that, things had been normal. A few changes did occur such as you all having lunch together, even Winter invited her girlfriend, making the group seem livelier than ever. Jake made it his mission to sit next to you each time, and Heeseung—well, he stared at you more than he ate. 

That pattern followed you straight into your English lecture later that afternoon. You slipped into your usual seat in the middle row, barely five minutes late, when Riki dropped into the chair right beside you, and you looked up at him, surprised. 

Heeseung walked in later, eyes on how you greeted the guy easily, and with that, he almost walked into someone. He could only manage to groan, because why wouldn’t you talk to him? To be fair, you did talk to him, like a friend, but never more, no initiation of any sort. Heeseung was the one who texted first, and he didn’t mind, but with how soft hearted he was, he probably wouldn’t mind you texting first either. 

That being said, Heeseung was basically sulk incarnate watching how you made plans to give Riki a coffee for some reason—was it a date? Why would you even like that tall kid? Heeseung knew you better despite the little time he spent with you. It was a given that you didn’t offer much about yourself despite your outgoing personality, but he did know how you played with your nails, how your eyes go wide when you eat something good, and how fucking good you sound moaning his name. 

“We’re all going to the cafe,” Sunoo chirped the second you stepped outside after the class, Heeseung following behind to see all his friends standing there too. 

You did find it odd how he was silent today, too silent, even worse when he didn’t try to initiate any conversation with you, just falling into step with his friends instead. His hands were shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, shoulders a little hunched as the group started moving.

Halfway there he slowed down just enough to tug Jay’s sleeve, voice low and trying way too hard to sound casual, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Jay only raised his brow, urging him to continue, “uh, so when we sit down, maybe ask Y/N something that’ll get her talking, like the stuff going on in her life, just anything.”

Jay stopped dead for half a second, then let out a loud, wheezing laugh that practically bounced off the buildings. The sound was so sudden and genuine that you actually turned around mid-conversation with Karina and Winter, eyebrows raised like you were trying to figure out what was so funny. Jay just waved you off, still cracking up as he clapped Heeseung on the back a little too hard.

“You’re actually hopeless,” Jay wheezed, trying to keep his voice down but failing miserably, “just talk to her yourself, what the fuck.”

Heeseung shoved him off, cheeks hot, “shut up, man. Just—just do it, okay? Please.”

They caught up to the rest of the group right as you all reached the café. The usual corner table was free, so everyone piled in. Jake, of course, immediately dropped into the seat next to you like it was his assigned spot now. Heeseung ended up straight across from you, eyes meeting yours, but this time, he didn’t look away. The corner of your lips twitched seeing him this way, and soon, he found himself smiling fondly too. 

Jay sat there as a witness to Heeseung’s internal breakdown, and well, happiness caused by two seconds of your undivided attention. In the midst of it all, everyone gave their orders, famished beyond words for some reason. The table was lively still, Jake trying to initiate conversations with you, even though Heeseung had not so subtly kicked him under the table to shut him up. 

Jay waited until there was a small lull, then leaned forward with that lazy grin of his.

“So Y/N,” he said casually, like it was no big deal, “what’s the deal with you and Heeseung lately? You two been hanging out a lot or what? He’s been weirdly smiley these days.”

Heeseung’s heart did a stupid little flip, face clearly trying to play it cool, but his eyes were glued to you, waiting.

You took a sip of your drink and shrugged, knowing that if you say anything remotely wrong, Sunoo and Winter would be on your ass about it, “it’s nice hanging out with him, he’s funny.”

Jay snorted at how Heeseung’s smile widened, “funny, huh? That’s all you’re giving us?”

Before you could answer, Jake jumped in, mouth full of his cup ramen, which he somehow got into the cafe, “god, I shouldn’t have gotten Shin, I’m telling you, nothing beats Buldak. You team Buldak too, Y/N?”

Heeseung looked rather offended, “nah, Shin’s better, broth tastes better too.”

Jake immediately turned to you with those big puppy eyes, “c’mon, tell him he’s wrong. Buldak or nothing, right?”

Sunoo and Sunghoon couldn’t even stand this, staring at Jake with the same expression of disgust, his fascination for you was genuinely funny. 

You looked up at Hee, who waited for your answer with shiny eyes, then back at Jake again. Maybe teasing Heeseung wouldn’t hurt, right? Especially when he looked so innocent and serious about your input as if it mattered. 

“I mean, Buldak is definitely good,” you agreed with Jake, taking another sip of your mango matcha. 

Jake beamed at the reply, bumping your shoulder. But Heeseung’s smile faltered for a second, and you almost frowned, not expecting him to surrender, “yeah, fair enough,” he muttered, staying silent the rest of the time, eyes flicking up to you every few seconds, while you observed him openly.

Jay only sighed, and somehow Winter was just as exhausted at the exchange, because Heeseung couldn’t hide his feelings to save his life, and you?

You were missing the point of this little conversation entirely. 

When everyone finally started packing up for their next lectures, the group split off in different directions. You noticed Heeseung hanging back a little, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders still hunched as he walked alone. With a chuckle, you jogged a couple steps, and grabbed his hand.

Heeseung startled hard, eyes going wide as he looked down at your fingers laced with his, and how perfect your new acrylics looked, the touch being enough to make a shiver go up his spine, “Y/N—?”

You only walked further, swinging your joined hands, “why so silent today?” You asked, looking up at him with a brow raised. 

He let out a small breath, eyes flickering back to where your thumb brushed his knuckles, “it’s nothing, just thinking I guess.”

“Hm, about how I picked Buldak over Shin?” You tilted your head, “you got all quiet after that. Kinda cute, actually.”

Heeseung glanced away, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself, “It’s not that, but Jake looked happy, so—yeah.”

“Shin’s my favourite actually, I only said Buldak to see you fight back, but yeah,” you shrugged with a smile. 

Heeseung’s head snapped back toward you, surprised, “wait, really?”

“Yeah. Remember that night we ran into each other at the convenience store? You were grabbing Shin too, I noticed.” You pointed out, “and you barely ate anything at the café either. Come over later? We can have ramen together.”

Heeseung’s steps slowed at the implication, and it showed on his face, mixed with the fondness of the simple fact that you noticed such little things. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed grand gestures, yes he’d appreciate it, but the little things mattered more. 

“You—noticed that?” He asked quietly, almost shy.

You hummed, then leaned up on your toes, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “you can eat something else too if you want.”

That sent him into this mode of short circuiting, and before he could even form a reply, you let go of his hand with a bright, mischievous laugh and took off running ahead across the path, glancing back at him over your shoulder with that same playful grin.

Heeseung stood there for half a second, face burning, your words looping in his head like a damn song on repeat. Then a big, flustered smile broke across his face and he took off after you, knowing he’d catch up to you in no time. 

“Fuck,” he yelled, half-laughing as he chased you down the walkway, “you can’t just say that and run—get back here!”

He really hoped it could always stay this easy with you.

You fell on your mattress with a thud, the springs creaking under the sudden weight of both of you. Heeseung landed right on top, chest pressed to yours, mouth already chasing yours in a hungry, desperate kiss that tasted like the faint strawberry from his drink earlier. 

His lips were hot and insistent, tongue sliding against yours like he couldn’t get close enough, letting out every bit of his frustration into this kiss. One of his hands shoved under your hoodie and straight into your shorts, two fingers gliding through your slick folds before pushing inside you without hesitation. You gasped into his mouth, thighs falling open wider as he curled them deep, stroking that spot that made your back arch clean off the bed.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he breathed against your lips, and you only sank in further, kissing all the way down to his neck, letting an open mouthed kiss linger on his adam’s apple, feeling it blobbing under you as he gulped in need, as if parched. 

Heeseung let out a shaky groan, fingers stuttering inside you for a second before he doubled down, thrusting them deeper, curling harder, “shit—you’re gonna make me lose it just from that.”

You smiled against his throat, sucking lightly, then dragged your teeth over the same spot while your hand kept working his cock in slow, tight strokes. He was throbbing in your palm, hot and slick with precum, hips twitching every time your thumb swept over the head, and you almost moaned cause he was big. 

But it wasn’t enough, you wanted him under you, wanted to watch him fall apart.

You pushed at his chest, flipping him onto his back in one smooth motion. Heeseung let out a surprised grunt as you straddled his thighs, yanking his pants and boxers down just far enough. His cock sprang free, flushed dark and glistening, curving up against his stomach.

Wrapping your fingers around his base as you leaned in to give his tip a slow kiss, making him moan shamelessly, “wait—you don’t have to,” he managed to let out. 

You looked up at him, lips brushing the wet slit as you spoke, “I know, I want to,” you whispered, “been thinking about having you in my mouth since you were sulking on the way here, just to apologize, y’know?”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, “god—you’re serious?”

Instead of answering, you took him in, lips stretching around the thick head, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you sank down. The taste of him filled your mouth, salty and warm, and you moaned softly around his length.

“Shit—baby,” Heeseung’s hand flew to your hair, holding on like he needed something to ground him, his thighs tensing under you, “your mouth feels—so fucking good.”

You hummed in response, taking him deeper until he bumped the back of your throat. You relaxed around him, swallowing, and he let out a broken groan, hips twitching up before he caught himself.

“Sorry—gosh I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. 

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips shiny, a thin string of spit still connecting you to him, “don’t apologize. Fuck my throat if you want to.” You stroked him slow and firm, eyes locked on his, “I can take it, I want you to use me.”

Heeseung’s eyes darkened. He’d never done this before, sure he’d gotten blowjobs, but the permission to take in full control of it? Oh, he swore he was gonna die, “you’re gonna kill me saying shit like that.”

You chuckled and sank back down, taking him all the way until your nose brushed his stomach. You held there for a second, throat fluttering around him, before you started moving, wet bobs of your head, hand twisting around the base.

Heeseung’s head fell back against the pillow, a wrecked moan spilling out, “fuck, fuck—oh my god.” His fingers tightened in your hair, not forcing, but guiding you a little now, testing the waters, “you like this? Being on your knees for me?”

You moaned around him in answer, the vibration making his hips jerk. You pulled off with a gasp, spit dripping down your chin, “I like when you stop being so polite and just take what you want.” You licked a slow stripe up the underside, eyes never leaving his, “you’re always so sweet, Hee, but i also know how desperate you are, won’t you show it to me like a good fucking boy?”

Heeseung’s breath stuttered, it was almost like a switch flipping. His grip in your hair tightened just a fraction more, and when you took him back in, he let himself thrust up a little, shallow and careful at first.

“Like this?” He asked, voice strained, “tell me if it’s too much.”

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips brushing the head, “Harder, I can take it. Use my throat, baby.”

The words seemed to break something in him. He groaned deep in his chest and started moving his hips with more purpose, fucking into your mouth in short, needy thrusts. You relaxed your throat and let him, moaning encouragement around his cock every time he pushed deeper.

“Fuck, fuck—you’re so good,” he panted, voice cracking, “so fucking good at this. Look at you—taking me so deep.” His free hand came down to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek while he watched himself disappear between your lips, “I didn’t know I liked this so much, watching you choke on me.”

You moaned louder, the praise and the way he was starting to lose control making heat flood between your legs. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and Heeseung’s head tipped back again, a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Baby—slow down or I’m gonna cum,” he warned, but his hips kept moving, like he couldn’t stop himself,  “you’re really gonna let me cum down your throat?”

You pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him fast and tight, lips hovering just over the tip, “let me taste you.”

Heeseung’s eyes rolled back as he came with a broken moan of your name, hips jerking as he spilled down your throat in hot pulses. You swallowed every drop, working him through it until he was trembling and oversensitive, little whimpers slipping out every time your tongue moved.

When you finally pulled off, lips swollen and shiny, Heeseung was staring at you like you’d rewired his brain. His chest was heaving, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark and hazy.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice shot, “I didn’t know I could like something that much.”

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, smirking as you crawled up his body and kissed him slowly, letting him taste himself on your tongue.

“You’re learning fast,” you murmured against his lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

So, you were true to your word, because by the time you both stopped, all breathless and spent, it was nighttime. In the midst of everything, you both had managed to fall asleep tangled with each other. Heeseung was the one to wake up first, caressing your cheek as he stared at how peacefully you slept in his arms. 

He stayed like that for a long minute, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, watching the way your lashes rested against your skin. Something heavy settled in his chest—not regret exactly, but a quiet, gnawing guilt that refused to leave him alone.

Carefully, he slipped out from under you, tucking the blanket around your bare shoulders so you wouldn’t get cold. He padded over to the window on quiet feet, pushing the curtain aside just enough to look out at the dark sky. The campus lights glowed faintly in the distance, stars barely visible through the city haze.

Heeseung pressed his forehead against the cool glass, exhaling slowly. What the fuck am I doing? The thought looped in his head. He’d loved Mina—or at least he’d told himself he did. They’d been together for over a year. But even on the best nights with her, he’d never felt this—free, this wanted. With you, you didn’t ask him to be anything other than exactly who he was in the moment, needy, desperate, a little mean when you pushed him, soft when you let him hold you after. Just a hint of your attention made his chest feel too full and that scared the shit out of him.

Because he’d sworn he loved Mina. But this? He wasn’t even sure what to name this feeling anymore, and it felt dramatic when nothing had even happened, just freedom and the best pleasure he’d ever experienced. 

The floor creaked softly behind him, making him turn his head to find you sitting up in bed now, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep. Without saying anything, you reached for his hoodie that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled it over your head. It swallowed you, the hem brushing your thighs as you padded over barefoot to stand beside him.

You leaned your shoulder against the window frame, looking out at the same dark sky. For a moment neither of you spoke.

“You okay?” You asked eventually, voice soft.

Heeseung, however, was in deep thoughts of silent appreciation, because you looked beautiful, you always did, “yeah,” he let out a quiet breath, “I feel like an asshole for even saying this out loud, but—I don’t remember it ever feeling this easy with Mina, even when things were good. With you it’s just different. Like I don’t have to pretend or hold back or be anyone else. I don’t know. That probably sounds stupid.”

You stayed quiet for a second, then bumped your shoulder gently against his, “it doesn’t sound stupid. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, Hee, it’s valid. You don’t owe her anything anymore, and you don’t owe me some perfect version of yourself either, okay?”

“You’re too nice to me,” he mumbled. 

You smiled, looking elsewhere for a moment as you gulped, “that’s what friends are for,” you let out. 

Heeseung turned to look at you fully, friends, is that what you were? Because friends don’t do all this. So, Heeseung only managed to muster one question, hoping the reply would be enough of an action to understand if he was truly alone in this or not.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper with the hope to earn even something as little as a nod. 

This means something more, you thought. This isn’t just sex anymore, not for him. Truly, Heeseung wasn’t even the kind to do this, so why did he agree to this? You wouldn’t mind being a rebound for him but him getting attached would be a problem. Would it really, though? You should’ve said no, but you found yourself being entranced by the beauty in his eyes. 

So, instead you stepped closer, sliding your hands up his bare chest, and tilted your face up to his, “yeah,” you whispered, “you can.”

Heeseung’s breath caught as he cupped your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks like you were something fragile, slotting his lips onto yours almost achingly gentle, this almost felt like a question and an answer all at once to him. 

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he let out a shaky little laugh, pecking the corner of your mouth once. 

The reflection on the window catching on everything you both were too afraid to admit. 

Honestly, the fault was yours for not discussing the boundaries or making one of those contracts like they do in the movies or books (though they never work), cause now, you and Heeseung had been hanging around way more often, some witnesses might even confuse this intimacy for dating. 

Maybe Heeseung was one of them, because when he texted you to come over, you half expected sex, not sitting alongside him learning League of legends at two in the morning. He was unpredictable to say the least, but he did wear his heart on his sleeve, so you could see the bits and pieces of the things he craved, and right now, he craved your time. 

You didn’t mind giving it to him, but it did come with a cost. The second you walked into the room, eyes widening at this small corner of the desk where a mango matcha, a few blue walkers, and a pack of Ferrero Rocher was placed neatly, alongside two packets of cup noodles (just in case). 

To Heeseung, it was normal, and you would have agreed had it been some synonym of aftercare, but no. It was just Heeseung being absolutely willing (and needing) to spend more time with you outside of your fancy little arrangement. 

He had opened the door with a smile so contagious, you mirrored it as he led you inside. A small corner of his desk was full of snacks, a cup of matcha which he knew was your favourite, a couple of Ferrero Rochers because he saw you eating those during the English lecture. You stood there for a second longer than intended, staring at it all, then at the man who had already made himself comfortable on the spare chair, waiting for you with the same gentle smile he always carried around you, making you gulp for a second before you returned it. 

“C’mere? Sit with me,” he said, patting his main gaming chair right next to him, and he half expected you to tease him for doing this, “I swear I’m not trying to be weird, and if you don’t wanna do this we can stop, or you can make fun of me.”

You let out a quiet huff of a laugh and kicked your shoes off before sliding into the chair beside him. Your knee bumped his under the desk and you left it there, the contact warm even through your clothes. Heeseung rolled his own chair closer right away, leaning in from behind you so his chest brushed lightly against your back, one arm resting along the back of your seat while the other reached around to the mouse, and you didn’t notice how he took in your scent with a dreamy sigh. 

“We’re playing League of Legends?” You asked, and he nodded. 

“Have you played it before?” He asked a little hesitant that you’d say you don’t wish to play or indulge in this. 

“Nope,” you said, reaching for the matcha because your mouth suddenly felt dry. The cup was ice-cold, condensation dripping down your fingers as you took a sip, “I’m probably gonna suck at this, just so you know.”

Heeseung let out a small laugh, relieved that you aren’t opposed to this, “that’s fine, we can start from the basics,” he covered your hand with his on the mouse, guiding you through the first clicks. “You just run at people and spin when they get close. Super easy, I promise.”

His fingers were warm over yours, almost careful like he was scared you’d pull away. You felt the way his chest moved against your back when he breathed, the faint brush of his hair against your neck every time he leaned in a little closer to see the screen better.

You clicked around awkwardly and Garen just kind of—stood there swinging his sword at nothing, “this feels dumb,” you muttered, but you were smiling a little, “I look like a robot trying to dance.”

Heeseung bit his bottom lip at the sheer joy of having you play his favourite game, even though you looked lost, confused, and too adorable, “you don’t look dumb. You look cute as hell trying to figure it out.” He squeezed your hand gently and moved the mouse for you, making Garen run forward. “See? Just click on this, okay?”

You tried it and Garen spun like a big metal tornado, actually hitting a couple of the little enemy guys, “oh okay, that was kinda fun,” you admitted, biting your lip to hide the grin. You reached for one of the Ferrero Rochers with your free hand, unwrapped it, and popped it in your mouth. The chocolate melted sweet and crunchy on your tongue, “how’d you know I like this.”

Heeseung shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against yours, “I pay attention to you, sue me.” He took the half you offered him without hesitation, biting it right from your fingers, his lips brushing your skin for a second too long.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the little flutter in your stomach at how brutally honest he was. He pays attention, he set all this up just so you’d feel comfortable doing something he likes. This isn’t what you signed up for, this is him wanting you around, not just in his bed. Stop feeling it. Stop.

The game kept going, as you died a bunch—running straight into the big tower like an idiot, getting smacked by random enemies—but Heeseung never made you feel stupid about it. He’d just lean in closer, chin resting on your shoulder now, arm wrapped a little tighter around the back of your chair, and murmur stuff like, “try backing up a tiny bit next time, yeah?” Or, “you’re getting the spin down though, that last one actually hit three of them, nice.”

You passed him chips from the blue walkers packet, your fingers brushing his every time. He took them without pulling away, crunching quietly while his other hand stayed on the mouse with yours, guiding you through another wave.

Heeseung couldn’t say this out loud but boy was he thrilled. It felt so nice, so domestic to do something so simple with someone (you). He couldn’t help but compare, simply because he didn’t know the basic possibilities of the relationship universe, though you weren’t in one. His ex never spared time for such things, indifferent about his interests, while you were so—sweet. 

“You’ve done this before? Teaching someone like this, I mean?” You asked after a while, “or am I getting special treatment?”

Heeseung went quiet for a second, then let out a breathy little laugh against your neck, “special treatment,” he admitted, no hesitation, “and no, it’s my first time teaching anyone.”

You leaned back into him a little more without thinking, the warmth of his chest solid and comforting against your back, the kind of solace that you had never had the pleasure of experiencing before. Was it supposed to be this easy? 

The snacks slowly disappeared between you—another Ferrero passed back and forth, the mango matcha cup getting lighter with every sip you took. Heeseung kept talking about random shit that had nothing to do with the game. How Jake had stolen his last ramen again, how he stayed up last night thinking about if aliens eat solid food, or if the Thestrals from Harry Potter can see each other or not. 

You told him about the fanpage you had at fifteen, he listened like it was the most interesting thing ever, thumb stroking slow circles on the back of your hand the whole time.

At some point the first game ended. You were still pretty bad, but you weren’t frustrated anymore. Heeseung’s arm had stayed around you the whole time, his chin heavy on your shoulder, breathing warm against your skin.

He didn’t queue another match right away, instead he just sat there for a second, arms loose around your waist, like he was thinking.

“C’mere,” he murmured, voice a little rough as his hands slid to your hips and he tugged you gently, pulling you straight off the spare chair and into his lap like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your back settled fully against his chest, thighs bracketing his, his arms wrapping around you properly so he could still reach everything if he wanted. The chair creaked once under both of you. You fit too well, way too well.

He rested his chin back on your shoulder and clicked into another custom game like nothing had changed, but his arms stayed tight around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go.

“What are we doing, Hee?” You asked in a low mumble. 

Heeseung went still, arms locking tighter around your waist like the question had burned him, he was afraid you’d bring it up and that’s exactly what you did. You felt him swallow hard, breath shaky against your neck.

He opted to answer with his actions instead, turning your face toward him with one hand and kissing you, lips pressing firm like he’d been dying to do it. His tongue slid in right away, tasting like chocolate and the mango you’d been sharing all night. He made this quiet, embarrassed little sound in his throat and kissed you harder, fingers sliding into your hair to hold you there.

You tried to pull back half an inch, though absolutely feeling your heartbeat fastening at how good the kiss, the warmth felt, “Hee, wait—”

He chased your mouth instantly, cutting you off with another kiss, deeper this time, tongue lazy and filthy against yours. His hand slipped under your top, palm hot and a little unsteady on your bare waist, thumb stroking slow circles like he needed to feel your skin to stay sane. He was breathing hard through his nose, cheeks burning against yours, but he wouldn’t let you speak. Every single time your lips parted he was right there again, kissing you quiet, desperate and messy like talking would ruin whatever this was.

“Bed,” he mumbled against your mouth. He stood up with you still in his lap, hands under your thighs, and carried you the few steps across the room. The second your back hit the mattress he was on top of you, settling between your legs and kissing you again before you could even breathe.

This time it was slower but no less intense. His tongue moved against yours in these long, deep strokes while one hand pushed further under your top, palm flat on your stomach, sliding up until his fingers brushed the edge of your bra. His other hand stayed tangled in your hair, tugging gently every time you tried to talk. He was so fucking flustered—ears red, breath shaky, little embarrassed groans slipping out whenever you rolled your hips up into him—but he still wouldn’t let you ask.

Every time you opened your mouth he swallowed it with another kiss, and you groaned, pulling him into you deeper, letting him showcase his feelings through whatever this was, and you understood it, but couldn’t stop it or ask any further, because you knew he’d deflect as if it scared him. 

As if  the only answer he could give was this.

You were decent at saying no, in fact, some might even admit how good you were at it, blunt as fuck. But that ability was limited to the world and it most certainly didn’t apply to this glorious six foot tall man who wished for you to join him at the basketball court. You could have made up some excuse, maybe tell him you have a lab report due, but you didn’t do that—because you wanted to go. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” said Winter, watching you change into a loose t-shirt and old shorts, “you hate sports. You once told me basketball was just a bunch of giants running in circles. Now you’re rushing out at night because Heeseung said come watch me play? And you’re dressing up the part too?”

You shrugged, tying your hair up, “It’s not that deep. I’m bored.”

“Sure, tell yourself that,” she mumbled with her brow raised. 

Well, she wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t care much as you made your way out towards the court which was lit up by some harsh floodlights, looking over to find some guys already deep in the game. You could spot Heeseung, Chenle, Beomgyu, and Sunghoon—t-shirts sticking to their backs. 

Nics (Chenle’s girlfriend) and Moon (Sunghoon’s girlfriend) were already on the bleachers with their chaotic friend, Ricey, who always carried snacks in her bag. The second they spotted you, Nics waved you over with a grin, patting the spot next to her. 

Heeseung was mid-dribble when his head snapped in your direction, the ball bouncing once before he caught it against his hip. Even from across the court you could see the way his face softened, that small, stupidly genuine smile breaking through like usual. He lifted his free hand in a quick wave. 

“Yo, Y/N’s here!” Chenle shouted, grinning like an idiot as he wiped sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt, “perfect timing, let’s do girls versus boys now.”

Nics hopped off the bleachers first, already pulling her hair up, “final-fucking-ly. Come on, we’re making this four on four.”

Moon laughed and stood up too, nudging Ricey, “you in or are you just gonna sit there eating chips the whole time?”

Ricey popped another chip in her mouth before standing, “I’m in, but if I break a nail I’m blaming all of you.”

You didn’t get a chance to sit as you got dragged into the court. Heeseung jogged over to you, still breathing a little hard, hair messy and damp. Up close he smelled like sweat and that familiar woody cologne, and the way he looked at you made you shiver. 

“You actually came,” he breathed, grabbing your arm without thinking much at all. 

“Couldn’t let you embarrass yourself alone,” you replied, stealing the ball from his hands just to mess with him. He laughed, eyes crinkling, and for a second it felt like the rest of the court disappeared.

But boy was it chaotic with Moon just distracting Hoon half the time, Nics and Chenle spent the time arguing—which was clearly their way of flirting, meanwhile Ricey was enjoying the drama in the middle of this all. The game was messy, and oh so loud.

You mostly ended up guarding Heeseung, and he was clearly not focused on winning anymore.

The first time you drove past him, he barely tried to block you, just let you slip by with this stupid little smile on his face. When you scored, he was the first one clapping, muttering under his breath, “fuck, that was hot,” loud enough for Beomgyu to hear and immediately start laughing.

“You’re not even guarding her properly!” Sunghoon yelled, hands on his knees, “you just watched her score and looked proud as hell!”

Heeseung didn’t even deny it, just shrugged, eyes still locked on you as you dribbled back. 

“She’s fast,” he said, but the way he said it was way too soft, and he wondered why he called you with others around when he should’ve done this one on one, but even then, he was thrilled to see you fit in so well with everyone. 

The court lights hummed overhead, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt, your oversized t-shirt clung to your skin in damp patches, the thin cotton sticking to the curve of your waist and the small of your back every time you moved. Heeseung’s eyes kept dropping to where the hem rode up every time you moved, and honestly? You liked it.

You caught the ball again and drove straight at him. This time his hand found your waist right away, palm warm through the damp fabric, thumb brushing under the hem like he couldn’t help himself. You spun past anyway, shoulder bumping his chest, and laid it up clean. When you landed he was still there, fingers lingering on your hip for a second longer than necessary.

“Shit, you’re good,” he muttered by your ear.

Beomgyu groaned loud enough for everyone to hear, “Heeseung, your hand was literally on her the whole time!”

Sunghoon just shook his head, “I can’t watch this anymore.”

A few plays later you slowed right in front of him, dribbling lazy, then hit him with the pout—bottom lip out, eyes big. Heeseung’s shoulders dropped instantly, “come on, that’s cheating,” he whined, but he was already stepping aside, hand sliding to your hip again as you blew past and scored.

Ricey started cracking up from the fence. “He folded. Let’s fucking go!”

Nics and Moon were dying, “Y/N, you’re actually evil,” Moon yelled, “like—look at him.”

The game kept going like that, every time you got near him his hands were on your waist or lower back, like he needed the excuse to touch you. After one layup he caught you around the middle when you landed, pulling you back against his chest for a second, chin brushing your shoulder.

“You’re killing me out here,” he said quietly, thumb rubbing slow against your side.

You turned your head, “stop letting me win so obviously.”

“Can’t,” he admitted, fingers flexing on your hip, “can’t stop you.”

Final possession got you dribbling right up to him. He stepped up, but the second you gave him the pout he let out a soft laugh and just gave up, both hands settling on your waist.

“Go win, baby,” he whispered, not even trying to hide it anymore as you drove and laid it in clean.

Game over.

Nics scooped you up spinning you once while Moon and Ricey cheered like idiots. The second your feet hit the ground Heeseung was there, arm sliding around your waist and pulling you back against him. His t-shirt was damp against yours, heartbeat steady on your back.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured into your hair, thumb still tracing slow circles on your hip under the hem, “didn’t even wanna stop you.”

You leaned into him, grinning, “you had your hands on me the whole second half.”

“Yeah,” he said, no shame at all, “felt too good.”

Heeseung didn’t get to talk more as a fuming Chenle grabbed his collar and dragged him away for what seemed to be some good beating. 

Moon and Nics immediately grabbed your arms at the opportunity and pulled you a few steps away, cornering you near the fence while Heeseung was distracted talking (arguing) to Chenle.

“Okay, spill,” Moon said, “what the hell is going on with you two? Because that was not subtle.”

Nics nodded, still half-laughing, “girl, he had his hands on your waist like every single play. He’s so into you it’s actually funny.”

You tried to play it cool, wiping sweat off your neck with the bottom of your shirt, “It’s not like that. We’re just—hanging out? No strings, y’know?”

They waited for you to say you’re joking, or just laugh, but then none of it came and they gasped, collectively. 

“You’re not serious,” Moon deadpanned. 

Nics’ eyes went huge, “wait. You’re actually serious.”

Ricey let out a low whistle, leaning against the fence, “damn, Y/N. I thought you were messing with us.”

You shrugged, trying to laugh it off, but the sound came out rather shaky. Your stomach did that stupid little flip again, like your body was calling you a liar before your mouth could. The cool night air on your damp neck suddenly felt too cold, and your t-shirt clung uncomfortably to your skin, “I mean, yeah, that’s the deal. We both said it from the start.”

The words felt flat even as you said them. Your eyes drifted across the court before you could stop yourself. Chenle still had Heeseung in that dramatic headlock, ranting about how embarrassing he was, but Heeseung wasn’t even pretending to fight back. His head turned and his gaze found yours instantly through the mess of hair falling in his face. That soft, stupid little smile tugged at his lips like getting chewed out didn’t matter at all. Just you did.

Your chest squeezed as you looked away, but Moon followed your stare and let out a quiet oh, “girl, look at him right now. He’s getting yelled at and he’s still staring at you like that? Come on.”

Nics nudged your side. “he had his hands on your waist literally every single time you got near him. Called you baby in front of all of us. Folded like a lawn chair the second you pouted. That’s a man catching feelings and not even trying to hide it.”

Ricey nodded, arms crossed, “for real. We were all watching, he was playing how many times can I touch my girl without getting called out.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the game anymore, “It’s not like that,” you mumbled but even you could hear how unsure you sounded. The way Heeseung was still looking at you made the label feel thinner than your sweaty t-shirt.

Before anyone could push harder, Chenle finally shoved Heeseung away with one last groan. Heeseung jogged back over, hair wrecked, cheeks flushed, but his eyes were already locked on you again. His arm slid around your waist without hesitation, palm warm and familiar against the damp fabric like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You guys done roasting her yet?” He asked, voice light and a little out of breath. 

Ricey snorted, “not even close.”

Heeseung just grinned and pulled you closer, chin brushing the top of your head. You leaned into him without thinking, the solid warmth of his side against yours making that chest-tight feeling even worse. Or better, you couldn’t tell anymore.

Your newfound friends exchanged a look behind his back, but you caught it anyway.

Whatever this was—it didn’t feel like no strings anymore. Not even a little.

Heeseung always thought that his partner would an extension of his very soul, and he never achieved that. Maybe the saying can be moulded into perspectives of sort, perhaps connection wasn’t about mirroring souls but about finding someone who made the fractures feel intentional, beautiful even.

He mindlessly knocked on the door, heart drumming an uneven rhythm against his ribs, not expecting the door to open so quickly, his breath hitching at the sight of you in front of him. 

Maybe your partner isn’t supposed to be an extension of you, but rather someone who’d stand on the opposite side of the spectrum and still look like a perfect puzzle when fitted together. 

You stood there like a living poem rendered in silk—clad in a breathtaking white gown that slipped over your skin with liquid grace, the delicate fabric catching the hallway’s muted glow, the thin straps tracing the delicate architecture of your collarbones like a lover’s fingertip. It moved with you, shimmering faintly, alive with every subtle shift of your weight. Your hair styled perfectly, lips glossed to a tempting sheen, and the whole vision struck him so viscerally that the air in his lungs simply vanished.

You looked beautiful, like an angel in all white, while he stood in front of you in a black leather jacket, juxtaposing every bit of elegance you exuded. 

Heeseung forgot how to breathe quite literally as time fractured around him. His gaze dragged over you in helpless reverence, while a razor-edged thought sliced through the haze. Are you going out? On a date? With someone else? The image of another man’s eyes tracing that same silk, another hand brushing the curve of your waist beneath it, coiled hot and ugly in his chest, stealing what little breath he had left.

“Hee?” You asked with a smile, tilting your head with genuine surprise, “what are you doing here?”

He gulped, forcing his eyes back up and oxygen to cooperate within him, “you’re breathtaking,” he managed, “I forgot what I came for.”

Warmth crept up your neck at the nervousness of the man in front of you, he was adorable—shifting from one leg to the other, playing with his fingers, as if the simple act of standing there might unravel him completely. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, cheeks flushed a soft rose, and those wide, doe-like eyes kept flicking back to the silk clinging to your body. You could practically feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat from where you stood, the way his throat worked on another swallow, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he tried (and failed) to play it cool.

“I, uh—” Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a small, embarrassed laugh, “I wanted to show you something. I’ve been carrying it around all day like an idiot because I thought you might like it. Figured tonight could be, I don’t know, nice? Just us.”

Your heart gave a small tug, the evening plans you’d been dreading now sitting like a weight in your chest, “god, Hee—I wish I could,” you said softly, “my parents are in town and we have this family dinner thing tonight. It’s one of those non-negotiable things. I was literally about to walk out the door when you knocked.”

Heeseung’s shoulders dropped just a fraction, disappointment flickering across his face before he quickly tried to smooth it over. He nodded, offering you a small, understanding smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he was relieved it wasn’t a boy you’d dressed up for, “no, gosh. It’s okay, I hope you have fun.”

He paused, eyes still lingering on you like he couldn’t help it, “but—if you’re not too tired later, maybe we could still meet up? Even if it’s just for a little while. No pressure or anything, I just—I really like being around you.”

All you could manage was a nod, making him smile wider. It was always a surprise at how clearly Heeseung said whatever he meant, and it wasn’t the best thing for your poor heart, which probably matched Heeseung’s pace now. Bidding goodbye was another problem especially when Heeseung stared till you got inside the cab. The dinner was a haze, your mom staring at your zoned out state with a knowing smile. 

“Who is it?” She sighed finally, making you look up in horror. 

“Mom—no,” you warned, knowing just how interested your family was in gossiping, which didn’t exclude gossip about you by any means. 

“What? She laughed, feigning innocence while your dad hid his grin behind his water glass, “I’m just asking. You’ve been smiling at nothing and zoning out all night, now spill.”

Your cousin leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief, “yeah, girl. You look like you’re thinking about someone. Is he cute? Does he go to your uni?”

Heat flooded your cheeks, “there’s no one,” you lied, though the words felt flimsy even to you, “I’m just tired.”

Your mom reached over and squeezed your wrist gently, “mhm, sure. Whoever he is, he’s lucky if he’s got you looking like this. Just don’t forget to eat, okay? You’re glowing, but you’re also not touching your food.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands as the table erupted into light laughter. The teasing continued with your dad throwing in a dramatic “If he hurts you, I’ll find him” that made everyone chuckle—but you managed to dodge the worst of it, cheeks burning the whole time. By the time dessert came, your family had mercifully moved on, though your mom’s knowing glances never quite stopped.

Meanwhile, Heeseung stood alone on the rooftop of the main university building, the cool night breeze slipping beneath the collar of his leather jacket and ruffling his dark hair. He’d quietly borrowed the keys from the maintenance office earlier—something he wasn’t proud of, but tonight the small rebellion felt worth it. Up here, the view was stunning. City lights stretched out below like scattered diamonds across black velvet, the crescent moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over everything. He slipped an airpod in, letting his playlist fill the silence. 

His hand drifted to the inner pocket of his jacket, fingers brushing the carefully wrapped item inside. He’d wanted to show it to you tonight, watch your face light up, maybe steal a few more stolen moments of that easy warmth you gave him so effortlessly.

Heeseung leaned against the railing, staring out at the glittering skyline while the music in his earpods played on, and he wondered if you were thinking about him too, somewhere across town amid the family dinner. He didn’t mind waiting, in fact, he was good at it when it meant so much to him. Regardless, every couple of minutes he’d glance at the door, half-convinced he was being ridiculous for waiting up here like some lovesick idiot.

As he turned back again, the faint creak of the door was heard, and he went still. You stepped onto the rooftop still wrapped in that white silk gown, the wind caught the hem immediately, making it swirl softly around your legs, and when you smiled at him—he felt it right in the center of his chest.

“Hi,” you said, voice quiet. 

Heeseung pulled the airpods out slowly, letting them dangle from his fingers, “you—you actually came,” he breathed, the words slipping out before he could stop them, his eyes moved over you again, helpless, “in that dress, god, Y/N.”

You walked closer, heels soft against the concrete, “told you I would. Couldn’t stop thinking about whatever you wanted to show me,” a small laugh escaped you. 

He took a half-step closer, “I wasn’t sure,” he admitted, “but I’m really glad you’re here. You look—” he trailed off, shaking his head with a soft, almost disbelieving smile, “I don’t even have the words tonight, you’re beautiful.”

It was foreign, the way you felt all mushy inside with a compliment, granted you got those all the time, but this felt new. You stopped just inches from him, close enough to see the way the moonlight caught in his dark eyes, the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks, “show me, then,” you whispered. 

Heeseung’s breath caught for the briefest moment. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a small box wrapped in simple paper, tied with a slender black ribbon. He placed it gently into your waiting hands, his fingers brushing yours with a lingering warmth that sent another quiet flutter through you.

You untied the ribbon, letting the paper fall away until the snow globe rested heavy in your palms. Inside the delicate glass sphere, a tiny couple danced beneath an invisible sky—her in a flowing white dress that mirrored the silk clinging to your body, him in a dark jacket that echoed the leather draped across Heeseung’s shoulders. Their hands were joined, bodies turned toward one another in quiet, perfect harmony. When you tilted the globe, soft white flakes swirled around them like the first gentle snowfall of winter, catching the moonlight in tiny, luminous sparks.

A rush of something overwhelming bloomed low in your stomach, as if butterflies unfurling their wings until your chest felt too full, too light. You looked up at him, eyes wide and shimmering. “Heeseung,” you breathed, “this is us. The dress, the jacket, it’s exactly like us.”

He bit his bottom lip, smiling shyly as he nodded, eyes soft with affection that he never failed to display. “Yeah,” he murmured, stepping closer until the globe rested safely between your bodies, pressed lightly against the silk over your heart, “I know it’s a little cheesy, but when I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

It was yet again when he had rendered you speechless so beautifully, a small smile still graced your lips, and you couldn’t hide it, you didn’t wish to hide it, “it’s not cheesy, it’s beautiful, Hee. Thank you.” 

You held the globe for another heartbeat, letting the tiny flakes swirl and sparkle inside the glass, before you turned gently and set it on the wide concrete railing

Heeseung watched you, nervous as he reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the earpods and holding it out to you between two fingers, “dance with me?” He asked, voice hopeful, “I’ve had this song on repeat—uh, I kept imagining what it would sound like with you here.”

It was as if you were facing the real tale of the entanglement after the initial surface level attraction had worn off, which should’ve made it worse, right? But Heeseung, unlike any other potential love interest you’d met, shone brighter after revealing himself day by day. 

You took the airpod from him without a second’s hesitation and slid it in, that familiar, timeless melody of Everybody Loves Somebody filling your ear like an old friend crooning about love that finds you when you least expect it. Heeseung’s fingers brushed yours as he took your hand, threading them together with a quiet certainty that made your breath hitch. His other palm settled at your waist, warm through the silk, and he drew you in until your bodies met, like they’d been waiting all along. You let your free hand rest against his chest, right over the steady thud of his heart beneath the leather.

Heeseung let out a soft, breathy laugh, “fuck, I actually feel stupid right now,” he muttered, “I’ve never danced before.”

You laughed, leaning into his scent further, “you’re doing great, Hee.”

“Yeah?” Another dorky chuckle rumbled through his chest. He adjusted his hold on you, thumb moving in a slow, absent circle at your waist, “I don’t know, lately I keep catching myself doing shit I never thought I’d do. Like stealing keys to a rooftop, buying a snow globe because it reminded me of you. It’s weird, I feel like I’m figuring out all these parts of myself I didn’t even know were there.”

He stole keys, the thought itself made you chuckle again. You’d once read somewhere that the act of loving someone doesn’t stop at accepting them but furthers by coaxing their selfhood out of them—it felt that way for you too because who would have thought you’d be dancing with someone at a rooftop wearing a gown? 

You squeezed his hand gently, “I like that,” you said, “I like that you’re figuring it out with me.”

The proximity was perfect, yet your bodies kept on gravitating towards each other every few steps, and eventually the melody began to fade. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the position mirroring that of the snow globe miniatures. Taking another step, you leaned forward just enough to slot your lips against his, almost as if breathing each other in, lips parting at the same time before pressing into a gentle peck. Heeseung exhaled shakily against you, his hand tightening at your waist for a second like he was trying to remember how to breathe.

When you finally drew back, you gave him that smile you knew he couldn’t resist. You slipped the airpod out of your ear and dropped it into his open palm, fingers brushing his one last time. At the same time you reached over, picked up the snow globe from the railing, and tucked it carefully against your chest.

“Night, baby,” you whispered as you turned toward the door.

Heeseung just stood there, completely still, breathing a little harder than before. His eyes were wide and utterly lovestruck as he watched you walk away. The rooftop door clicked shut behind you, but he didn’t move for a long time—just stayed right where he was under the moonlight, that dazed, helpless smile slowly taking over his face.

You were panting as Heeseung pressed his lips on the base of your spine, sending a shiver up your back. He hadn’t been patient pulling you in his bed, turning you over to unzip your dress. He groaned with each kiss as if he was pleasuring himself instead of you while savouring every inch of skin exposed. 

Heeseung pressed his forehead against the middle of your back for a second, breathing hard, “you’re trembling,” he whispered against you, “is my mouth really making you feel that good?” He kissed between your shoulder blades, then higher, until his lips brushed the nape of your neck, “tell me, baby. Tell me how wet you are right now just from this.”

“So wet,” you gasped, pushing your hips back against him, “Hee—please.”

He let out a broken groan and shoved your panties to the side with impatient fingers, not even bothering to pull them off. The thick head of his cock nudged against your slick entrance, hot and heavy, before he sank into you in one long, relentless thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound guttural as he bottomed out, stretching you wide, “you’re soaking my cock, baby. So fucking tight and wet for me.” He pulled back slowly, then drove in again, harder, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room, “listen to that. Hear how greedy your pussy is for me?”

You cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets as he set a deep, punishing rhythm, each stroke dragging perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you.

“Heeseung—oh god, yes—” your voice broke on a moan, tears of overwhelming pleasure already stinging your eyes, “harder—please, I need it harder.”

Heeseung cursed under his breath and fucked you deeper, hips snapping forward with filthy precision, “like this?” He panted, voice hoarse “you want me to ruin this pretty little pussy? Tell me how good it feels, baby. I want to hear you fall apart.”

“It feels so good,” you sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust, “you’re so deep—fuck, Hee, I can’t—”

The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, white-hot and devastating, until it finally snapped.

“I love you—” the words tore out of you, raw and desperate, “Heeseung, I love you—”

He froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt inside you, body going completely rigid.

“What?” His voice was barely a whisper, shocked and trembling.

You whimpered, hips twitching helplessly around his cock, the confession spilling out again in a blurry, broken rush, “I love you, I love you so much—”

Heeseung pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. In one swift motion he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with wide, dark eyes and a chest that heaved like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice hoarse and shaking as he stared down at you, one hand cupping your jaw, “look at me and say it again, baby. Please.”

Your eyes were glassy, lips parted on a shaky breath, but the words seemed to have blurred, your face disappearing right in front of his eyes as you said, “I love—” 

He woke up with a sharp, ragged gasp, bolting upright in his own bed, heart slamming violently against his ribs. The room was dark and silent except for his own frantic breathing. Sweat slicked his skin, and when he looked down, the front of his sweatpants was soaked with a warm, sticky mess.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, dragging a trembling hand down his face, cheeks burning with heat.

It was hard for him to contain himself when this is all he could dream of the past six days, feeling it deep despite it being a dream. Wet dream was fine really, but the confession that echoed? Yeah, that definitely made Heeseung feel eccentric because he needed to hear that for real despite the terms of the relationship between you both. It was bound to bloom into something more.

You two had fallen into a rhythm that didn’t need a label really. He showed up outside your lectures with your stupidly specific drink (matcha), the one with the exact ratio you liked, because he’d paid attention the one time you made a face at the wrong version. You’d started leaving your oversized hoodie at his place just so you could steal his instead and he could wear yours, the sleeves swallowing your hands while you lounged on his bed scrolling through your phone. He noticed how you always tugged at your bottom lip when you were thinking too hard, how you stole the last sip of his drink without asking, how your shoulders relaxed the second you kicked your shoes off after a long day. You noticed the way he rubbed the bridge of his nose when he was tired but too stubborn to admit it, the soft little hum he made when something tasted exactly right, the way his eyes lingered on you a beat longer than necessary whenever you laughed at something dumb he said.

You weren’t calling it dating, you weren’t calling it anything. But you also weren’t fighting it. You’d never been the type to deny yourself something that made you feel good, and Heeseung made you feel good in a way that snuck up on you. So you let yourself have it without the complications of overthinking. 

Later that morning, Heeseung walked across campus still half-dazed from the dream, that stupid, lingering smile refusing to leave his face. The memory of your voice saying those three words kept looping in his head, well, until a voice didn’t wish to hear ruined his train of thoughts. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t the thief.”

Heeseung slowed to a stop and turned. Jaemin stood there with his arms crossed, wearing the same smug, pissed-off expression he used to think was charming.

Heeseung let out a dry, humorless scoff, “thief? That’s fucking hilarious coming from the guy who was literally balls-deep in my ex while we were still together.”

Jaemin stepped closer, eyes narrowing, “whatever helps you sleep at night. You really think you’re gonna keep her interested?” His voice dripped with condescension, “Y/N doesn’t do soft boys. All that cute shit you do, y’know? All that bringing her drinks, playing with her hair, looking at her like she’s the only person in the room? She’ll get bored so soon. She needs someone who can actually keep up with her, not some pathetic, whipped little romantic who gets all starry-eyed at the sight of her.”

Heeseung forced out a dry laugh, “yeah sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Jaemin stepped even closer, that ugly little smirk twisting his mouth, “you’re playing house while she’s used to getting fucked properly, I’m sure you’re not offering much to at all, you’re nothing but a rebound to her,” he scoffed once, and walked away. 

But the damage was done, because yes, Heeseung was soft, almost a whipped little romantic who let you take the lead when things got heated, how you pinned his wrists down or told him exactly how you wanted him, and how much he fucking loved giving in to you. The dream from this morning flashed behind his eyes again, your voice breaking on those three words while he was the one completely undone above you. Now it all felt suddenly pathetic, like something Jaemin could point at and laugh at.

Jealousy, envy, insecurity, these were the things he didn’t wish to feel, and gladly so, he never felt that with you, so why was an outsider here to remind him of his so called weaknesses? It felt like a spiral how he skipped the next lecture and pondered on Jaemin’s words. Did you actually not enjoy your time with him? Was he enough? Did you want a more intense relationship? Was it just a rebound?

He couldn’t find the answers to any of those questions, and managed to ignore every single text and call that came his way, letting himself cool down on the rooftop yet again. 

What he essentially forgot was how communication wasn’t a part of the relationship but the very pillar that ran practically any relationship on this earth, this being the very first instance of him not being able to express himself—something he did so freely around you. 

And so, the day passed without him replying to you. 

You felt the absence like a missing pulse. 

“You look crazy checking your phone every two minutes,” Sunoo pointed out, and you huffed, grabbing your phone again to stare at the unread texts you’d sent him through the day. 

The screen glowed mockingly in the low light of your dorm room, the blue bubble of your last message still floating unanswered beneath the others, heeseung? talk to me. you okay? i’m coming over if you don’t answer. Just silence that didn’t sit right with you. 

Sunoo flopped dramatically across the foot of your bed, legs kicking up behind him, while Winter perched on the windowsill, she watched you with that knowing tilt of her head, the one that always preceded a lecture of affection. 

“Babe,” she said, “he’s been ghosting the group chat too, something’s off. Like, capital-O off.”

You set the phone face-down on the blanket, but your fingers still twitched toward it. Sunoo nudged your ankle with his socked foot. 

“Go, seriously, and if he’s being a dramatic little shit, tell him Sunoo said to grow a pair and answer his damn phone.” His grin was bright, “you’re so in love it’s pathetic.”

Your lip only twitched, and you didn’t admit nor deny it. It was too early to even overthink what happened, was he drowning himself in self destruction while embracing pain for absolutely no reason? Regardless you frowned with disdain, pushing yourself up to actually do something about the situation, choosing to wear his hoodie he gave you a few days earlier. 

You didn’t bother fixing your hair or changing out of the soft shorts you’d been rotting in all evening. This wasn’t about looking put-together, it was about the fact that Heeseung had never once left a message on read without answering, in fact, he was the one who usually texted first, shared his problems, and discussed any and everything this world has to offer. Whatever had him locked down like this, it had teeth, and you were done waiting for him to chew through it alone.

By the time you reached there, a feeling of nervousness washed over you. Jake pulled the door open almost immediately, like he’d been hovering behind it. His eyes were wide, hair sticking up in about six different directions, and he looked so relieved to see you that it almost hurt.

“Jesus Christ, you’re here,” he sighed, stepping aside so you could slip in, “he got back from class and just shut down. Told me to fuck off when I asked if he wanted pasta. Jay tried the concerned roommate bit and got the door slammed in his face. This isn’t—he doesn’t do this, y’know?”

You nodded, throat tight, “I know.”

Jake hesitated, then added almost sheepishly, “if he’s being a dick, tell him I said to stop being a dramatic prick or i’ll take you away, or whatever.”

You gave him a chuckle and headed straight for the bedroom door, hoping that it wouldn’t be locked. It wasn’t, thankfully so, and you pushed the door open before you could talk yourself out of it. Heeseung sat on the edge of the bed in those black sweats that hung too low on his hips, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. The silver chain sat against his collarbone, rising and falling with these tight little breaths. He looked exhausted, hollowed out even.

He heard the door and his head snapped up.

For a second his eyes went wide, like he couldn’t believe it was really you standing there. The whiplash of emotions was too much, especially when you were clad in his hoodie with sadness gracing your pretty face that he really always wished to see happy. He stood up so fast the bed creaked, crossed the room in two strides, and pulled you against him like he’d been waiting to do exactly that all day.

His hands were rough as he grabbed your nape the second the door closed shut behind you, breathing hard as your lips parted to ask a question, but he only closed his eyes, slid his hand up to your head as he pushed you against the door, pushing his lips against yours in a messy claim. 

He can be rough, he can be the one to give you pleasure, of course he can. His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wanted it, tongue sliding in deep. You tasted the faint cherry from whatever he’d been drinking, felt the way his chest heaved against yours like he’d been running.

“Missed you,” he mumbled right into your mouth, the words half-bitten off by another rough kiss, “fuck, I missed you so bad today.”

“Heeseung—wait, what the hell happened—” you tried, but he swallowed the question with his mouth, sucking on your bottom lip hard enough to sting before dragging his teeth down the side of your neck. His free hand shoved under the hem of the hoodie, palm sprawled over the expanse of your waist, fingers digging in like he needed to feel skin right now

“Shh,” he breathed against your throat, voice wrecked, “don’t talk. Just—let me.” He sucked a mark right below your ear, like he was stamping proof that you were here, that you were his. His hips pressed forward, pinning you tighter to the door, and you could feel how hard he already was through his sweats.

The force of him made your breath hitch, your back flush against the cool wood while every inch of him burned insistent. He was never like this, not with you. Heeseung had always been careful, as if afraid that wrong move would make you slip away. But tonight something had snapped in him, and the way his fingers trembled just slightly against your skin told you he knew it too. He was trying to prove a point—to himself, to the ghost of Jaemin’s voice still echoing in his head—that he could be the rough, ravenous version he thought you wanted.

He spun you around so fast your palms slapped against the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door. The cool glass kissed your bare chest, making your nipples tighten instantly. Heeseung’s chest pressed flush to your back, one hand sliding up to grip your jaw, forcing your head up so you had no choice but to look at your own reflection—parted lips, eyes already glassy. 

“Look at yourself,” he rasped, “look how fucking pretty you are when you’re like this for me.”

His other hand snaked down your stomach, fingers dipping between your thighs without warning. Two thick digits pushed inside you in one smooth glide, curling instantly against that spot that made your knees buckle. You gasped, forehead dropping forward until it rested on the mirror, but Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightened, yanking you back up.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch, yeah?” 

It most certainly was hot to see him take control, but you couldn’t understand the sudden switch, the implications, your mind was too foggy with the way you’d missed him through the day. Heeseung was too in his head, as if on some mission to make you feel good—which he always achieved, yet was not satisfied. 

He pumped his fingers slow and deep, twisting them on every drag out so you felt every ridge, every knuckle. The wet, slick sounds of your pussy taking his fingers echoed obscenely in the quiet dorm room. In the mirror you watched it all: the way your lips parted on a shaky moan, the flush crawling down your neck to your chest, the way your tits pressed and flattened against the cool glass with every rock of your hips. Heeseung’s reflection behind you was devastating—dark hair falling into his eyes, jaw clenched tight, that chain around his neck swaying every time he thrust his fingers harder.

“God, you’re so deep already,” you whimpered, hips rocking back to meet his hand, “keep going like that, yeah, just like that, Hee.”

Heeseung groaned low, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second before he forced himself to look up again, as if in pain, “that’s it. Fuck, listen to how messy you sound. You’re dripping down my wrist, baby. Such a good girl for me.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering, but he tapped your jaw again.

“Don’t close your eyes. Want you to see how pretty you look when I finger fuck you like this.”

“Bossy tonight,” you teased breathlessly, even as your thighs started trembling, “I like it, but you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep rubbing my clit like that.”

“Good,” he rasped, thumb circling faster, fingers curling relentlessly, “cum for me. Right now. Let me see it.”

You moaned his name loud, walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers as you came, slick coating his hand. Heeseung kept working you through it, slower but deep, murmuring against your neck, “that’s my girl—fuck, you’re so pretty when you cum. Look at you shaking for me.”

He pulled his fingers out slowly, then brought them to your lips.

“Taste yourself, baby, hm? C’mon, open up.”

You sucked them clean, eyes never leaving his in the reflection, and he cursed under his breath the second your tongue swirled around his fingers. 

“Fuck—you’re gonna kill me.”

Before you could catch your breath he dropped to his knees behind you, hands gripping your hips and yanking you back so your ass arched toward his face.

“Keep watching the mirror,” he said, voice hoarse with need, “I want you to see me eat this pussy like I’ve been starving for it.”

Then his mouth was on you, as filthy as he could manage. His tongue dragged slow and broad from your clit all the way up, and you moaned loud, hands sliding down the glass.

“Oh my god, Hee—”

“Mhm, fuck, you taste even better after you come,” he groaned against you, the vibration making your legs weak, “spread your legs a little wider for me, baby. Let me get deeper.”

You did, pushing back against his face. His tongue fucked into you while his nose nudged your clit, then he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth hard.

“Yes—right there, don’t stop,” you panted, “your tongue feels so fucking good, baby, keep sucking like that.”

Heeseung moaned into your pussy, one hand reaching around to rub your clit while the other spread you open wider, “tell me how much you like it,” he mumbled between licks, voice desperate, “tell me you love my mouth on you.”

“I love it—fuck, I love your mouth, Hee. You’re so good at this—shit, I’m gonna cum again if you keep going like that.”

He sucked harder, tongue flicking fast, fingers joining to curl inside you, “then let go again, right on my tongue. I want to feel you fall apart while you watch yourself in the mirror.”

Your second orgasm crashed over you even harder, a high pitched moan leaving your mouth, almost as if you were chanting his name like a mantra, thighs shaking violently as you came on his tongue, and Heeseung licked you through every pulse, slow and greedy, humming happily like he couldn’t get enough.

You were still trembling when he finally pulled away, breathing hard against the inside of your thigh. His eyes met yours in the mirror for a second, looking all desperate, almost frantic before he stood up and turned you around. His hands were shaking as they gripped your waist.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough, like the words were being dragged out of him. He kissed you immediately, with the need to taste the way you’d just fallen apart for him, “bed. I need you on the bed right now.”

You nodded, legs still unsteady, and he didn’t wait. He lifted you, your back hitting the mattress a second later. He climbed over you fast, knees bracketing your hips, but instead of diving right in he paused, hovering above you, chest heaving. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, and for a split second you saw the soft Heeseung underneath all that intensity—the one who always checked on you, the one who was terrified of messing this up.

“You really want this?” He asked, voice cracking a little even though he was trying to sound sure. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like he couldn’t stop himself, “all the way, me inside you. Tell me you want it, baby, please.”

“I want it,” you whispered, reaching up to pull him closer by his chain, “I want you, Hee. Stop holding back.”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded, like he was steeling himself. He shoved the rest of his clothes off as you watched the pretty boy in front of you. It was clear how he wanted to prove a point, and you were gonna let him, granted he wasn’t in the mood to talk, his faint muscles flexing was distracting you as well, but yeah, you were letting him take control. 

He gripped your thighs and spread you open wider, breathing hard as he tried not to stare to the point he starts drooling because, lord, you looked absolutely stunning all spread out on his bed, looking up at him with need, bottom lip bitten. He lined up, the blunt head of his cock pressing right against your entrance, and for a second he just stayed there, breathing hard, eyes flicking up to yours like he was still fighting whatever storm was in his head.

“Tell me again,” he said, “tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathed, pulling him down into a messy kiss, tongues sliding deep right away, “I want you inside me, Hee. Stop thinking and just take me.”

He groaned into your mouth and pushed forward.

The first inch stretched you open, slow and thick. You both gasped against each other’s lips.

“Fuck—you’re so tight,” he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, hips trembling as he held still, “just the tip and you’re already gripping me like that. You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nails dragging lightly down his back, “keep going, I can take more.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, almost desperate, and rolled his hips forward on the second thrust as another inch sank in. The burn was sharp but so fucking good your back arched.

“Shit—baby,” he groaned, voice cracking. He sucked a hard mark right under your jaw, teeth grazing your skin as he pushed in a third time, slower, letting you adjust, “you feel—gosh, you feel unreal, i’m trying not to lose it already.”

Your nails dug in harder, scratching down his shoulder blades as he gave one more careful thrust and finally bottomed out, hips flush against yours. The full stretch made you moan loud into his mouth, legs tightening around his waist.

Heeseung stilled completely, breathing ragged against your neck, trying not to whimper, “talk to me. Does it hurt? Tell me the truth.”

“A little,” you whispered, “but I love it. You feel so deep already. Move, baby, I need you to move.”

He started with slow, deep rolls of his hips, grinding against you on every stroke like he was still trying to stay in control. But you could feel the tension building in his body, the way his fingers dug into your thighs a little harder each time.

“Yeah? Like this?” He asked, voice rougher now as he snapped his hips forward a little sharper, “you want me to fuck you harder?”

“Harder,” you moaned, nails raking down his back again, leaving red lines, “don’t be gentle tonight. I want all of it.”

He dropped his head to your neck and bit down hard, sucking yet another dark mark into your skin as his hips suddenly slammed forward. The thrusts turned brutal, the bed creaking loudly under you. His chain slapped against your chest with every snap of his hips. He was fucking you like he’d been holding back for months—desperate, almost punishing strokes that knocked the breath out of you.

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” he groaned against your throat, voice completely wrecked, “you’re taking me so fucking good. This pussy is mine tonight. Mine.”

You cried out and he kissed you again, tongues sliding messily while he pounded into you without any rhythm left. His hips stuttered, slamming harder, faster, completely mindless now, like every doubt in his head was being fucked out with every brutal thrust.

“Shit—I can’t—can’t slow down,” he panted, “you feel too good, gonna fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He was gone—eyes hazy, sweat dripping down his chest, hips snapping wildly as he lost himself inside you, chasing that raw, desperate need to prove he could be everything he thought you wanted. His chain bounced wildly against your chest, his fingers digging bruises into your thigh like he needed something to hold onto. 

You were right there with him, body tightening, moans spilling out against his mouth, when the intensity tipped over into something too much, too fast. Your hand shot back, fingers digging into his hip.

“Heeseung—stop. Stop for a second.”

He froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt, every muscle locking up at once. His breath hitched hard against your neck. For a long second the room was just the sound of both of you breathing, ragged and uneven. You could feel the panic crashing over him. 

“Fuck—did I hurt you?” His voice cracked, he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes already glassy with tears that spilled over when he blinked, “shit, I’m so sorry—I got too rough, I didn’t mean to, I was trying so hard not to be soft and I just—fuck, I thought if I fucked you harder you’d want me, you’d stay, I—”

His lip trembled. Another tear slid down his cheek and landed warm on your skin. He looked completely shattered, still deep inside you, like the idea that he might have hurt you was breaking him apart right there.

You cupped his face with both hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears from under his eyes, “baby, shh. You didn’t hurt me,” you whispered, voice soft, full of warmth, “not even a little. I promise. You feel so good, Hee. C’mon breathe with me, okay?”

He stared at you, eyes wide and wet, lips pressed tight together like he was trying not to fall apart completely. He gave the smallest shake of his head, refusing to speak at first.

You leaned up and kissed him, just a gentle press of your lips until he softened into it, a shaky little exhale leaving him. When you pulled back you kept your forehead against his, thumbs still stroking his cheeks.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “I can feel it, baby. Something’s been eating at you. Please talk to me.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, eyes fluttering shut for a second as another tear slipped free. His voice came out small, cracked, almost ashamed.

“Jaemin cornered me after class,” he whispered, “uh—he said I’m too soft, fucking whipped. That I’m just a pathetic rebound and you’d get bored of me in a week because someone like me could never keep a girl like you. Said you need someone who can actually fuck you right, not some gentle loser,” his breath hitched, “I just—I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. I wanted to prove I could be what you need, I know this isn’t what you wanted, our whole FWB thing.”

You stayed right there, forehead pressed to his, thumbs still gently wiping his tears as you looked at him with nothing but softness in your eyes, heart hurting at how the guy who makes you the happiest was reduced to some loser by your pathetic excuse of an ex. 

“I like you exactly how you are,” you let out, heat creeping up your neck, the position only making you feel more with his cock still buried deep in you. 

“Y—you like me?” He gasped as you licked his tear away, “really?”

“I do, Hee. I forgot about the whole no strings arrangement long back, I found myself wanting to spend more time with you, and who am I to deprive myself of happiness?” You chuckled, “you can’t force your feelings to go away, or change yourself, y’know? Fuck Jaemin, he doesn’t know shit, he could never make me cum and he definitely could never make me feel the way you do.”

Heeseung let out a shaky, broken exhale, his forehead still resting against yours as fresh tears welled up, “I thought—I thought I was ruining everything. I was so scared you’d realize I’m just the rebound, and you’d leave. I didn’t want to lose you, so I tried to be someone else tonight. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, Hee, not even close. You could never ruin this. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I don’t mind you being rough or soft, yeah?”

He swallowed hard, “I don’t want to be rough, I never really did. I just, I thought that’s what you needed from me. But I want to be soft with you, can I—can I do that? Please?”

You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped you, the sound made his lips twitch, and then he was smiling—small, shy, and so genuinely relieved it made your heart squeeze. He immediately hid his face in the crook of your neck, embarrassed, his breath warm against your skin as he let out a quiet, shy laugh of his own.

“Stop laughing at me,” he mumbled into your neck, but you could hear the smile in his voice, the way his shoulders relaxed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” you whispered, still chuckling as you threaded your fingers through his hair, “I’m laughing because you’re adorable, and I like you like this. Exactly like this.”

Heeseung lifted his head just enough to look at you again, eyes still glassy but now shining with something brighter as he managed another kiss, pouring every unsaid feeling into it. When he pulled back, his voice was soft. 

“I love you,” he breathed out, “I’m so in love with you. I don’t want no-strings, I want everything. Mornings where I wake up and you’re stealing my hoodie. Nights where we fall asleep tangled up like this, and I want all of it with you.”

You smiled against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst, “I’m falling in love with you too, Hee, I want all of that with you too.”

He whined, kissing you all clumsy, rolling his hips in long, loving strokes that made you feel every inch of him. The pace was unhurried, like he wanted to savor every second.

“Feel that?” He whispered, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked on you, “I love being inside you like this. I love feeling you around me—so warm, so perfect.”

You moaned softly, legs wrapping tighter around him as you rocked up to meet his slow thrusts, “you feel so good, baby.”

Heeseung smiled again with a giggle, hiding his face in your neck for a moment before kissing along your throat, “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, “the way you look when I’m inside you, the little sounds you make, I could stay like this for hours. Just loving you, just making you feel good.”

His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning it gently above your head while the other slid down to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, tender circles. Every thrust was accompanied by quiet words—I love you, you feel incredible, never letting you go, whispered against your skin like prayers.

You squeezed his hand, “I love how you make me feel safe, don’t ever change, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise, i just want to make you feel loved. Every single day.”

The room filled with nothing but the soft creak of the bed, your quiet moans, and his gentle praises. He kept the pace slow and deep, grinding against you on every thrust so your clit rubbed perfectly against him. His lips never left your skin—kissing your neck, your jaw, your mouth, your collarbone like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion as he rolled his hips again, “I’m so lucky you’re mine. So fucking lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby. Now keep loving me just like this, I never want this to end.”

Heeseung smiled against your mouth, eyes shining with pure adoration, and did exactly that—loving you slow, deep, and full of so much tenderness it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared.

Just the two of you, and the moonlight in the room. 

MEANWHILE:

You shushed Heeseung for the nth time as he smiled against your palm, but you were serious, peering down the hallway from the narrow alcove where you’d both hidden behind a pillar.

“Stop smiling, you’re going to get us caught,” you whispered, though your own grin was fighting to break free.

Heeseung only chuckled quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist, “can’t help it. You look so adorable trying to be all serious.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt warm as his arms stayed wrapped around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.

The classroom door finally swung open. Students spilled out, and then Jaemin stepped into the hallway, laughing loudly with his friends.

The second you saw him, you stepped out without hesitation, you lifted the chilled cup and poured the entire icy matcha straight over his head from the first floor, the aim being too good to your surprise. 

Jaemin gasped, stumbling back as green liquid drenched his hair and hoodie, “what the fuck—”

Loud laughter exploded from the crowd around him. Phones came out instantly, people whistling and clapping, and you didn’t stay to admire your work.

You grabbed Heeseung’s hand and ran, both of you sprinting down the side hallway until you ducked into an empty stairwell, breathless and laughing.

“Oh my god, his face,” you wheezed, back pressed against the wall.

Heeseung leaned over you, one hand beside your head, smiling so beautifully it made your knees weak—eyes crinkled, full of pure adoration and joy.

“You’re insane, taking revenge for me again,” he said softly, “and I’m so in love with you.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly, so full of everything you two had become. When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he was still smiling that same breathtaking smile.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, grinning, and you did mean it with your whole heart as you proceeded to say. 

“I love you more.”

THANK YOU FOR READING

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Some deeper parts within him would care to disagree, however, he had perfected this art of burying them six feet under layers of easy smiles. At twenty-three, Jake was the hot Physics student pursuing Masters with a killer arm (or leg in this case) on the football field. 

He had always been good at drowning out uneasiness with a bright grin, a well-timed joke that he somehow laughed at harder than the others, the easy way his hand would find the small of someone’s back as he guided them through a crowded party. It worked, it always worked.

Hardworking to a fault, he balanced brutal training sessions, demanding coursework, and still found time to be the social glue of every group he touched. Clumsy in the most endearing ways—tripping over his own feet during victory celebrations or spilling his coffee down his jersey—he’d just laugh it off, turning mishaps into stories. 

So, in a word, Jake Sim was considered to be carefree by any living creature that had the slightest pleasure of meeting him.

And to put it simply, he enjoyed it. He basked in the attention thrown his way, not in a way that would label him as arrogant, it just came to him as easy as, well, breathing. All that effortless energy around him kept him sane, coming from a loving family, to having friends he could call his second family, he truly cherished it to the core. 

Tonight the spring kickoff party in the quad thrummed under strings of warm fairy lights, the bass from the speakers mixing with the scent of grilled corn (to Jay’s absolute delight), spilled beer, and early cherry blossoms. Jake stood right at the center of it all, lean athletic build relaxed as he leaned against the brick pillar, red solo cup in hand, black hair falling in soft tousled waves. He ran his fingers through it absentmindedly while Heeseung gestured wildly mid-story, the group around him already cracking up at the enthusiasm of it all. 

“—and then she just looks at me after the game, all flushed and smiling, and says you looked really good out there tonight. Next thing I know we’re back at her place and I’m thinking, damn, maybe I should score more goals if this is the reward,” Heeseung said, smile wide as he took a swig from his cup.

Jay laughed at that, “you’re too fucking easy,” he mumbled, taking a bite of corn, pairing it up with vodka right after. 

Sunghoon leaned back against the pillar, smirking as he shook his head, “you two are hopeless, now let me tell you guys about what real pleasure is—”

“Spare us the details,” Jeno mumbled, a tad bit tipsy with the amount of booze he’d been consuming, Jaemin holding him up, but his mind was elsewhere, planning something rather crazy to wash out the usual mundane conversation. 

Jake’s laugh rolled out bright, head tilting back and shoulders shaking with genuine amusement, “you guys are practically whores,” he clicked his tongue, “but yeah—nothing beats that post-game high when someone’s waiting for you looking like that. Makes all the bruises worth it.” He bit his lower lip lightly, still grinning as he scanned the lively surroundings, eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. 

Across the grass, you stood with Jungwon and Karina near the low stone wall, Jungwon had dragged the two of you here earlier, insisting it would be lowkey fun because his Jay hyung had invited him and “it’s not like we have to stay forever.” The music played in the background, but your attention stayed on them—sharp little remarks about random campus drama, Karina’s latest story about a disastrous blind date, the usual easy flow that made the noise somewhat bearable. 

Jungwon glanced toward the center of the party, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he watched Jake’s group, “Jake’s in full golden-boy mode tonight. Look at him— Jay says he’s the same off the field, always cracking jokes even when everyone’s half-dead from practice.”

Karina nodded, swirling the last of her drink slowly, “It’s almost unfair how he does that, wish i could’ve been that extroverted honestly.”

You followed their gaze without meaning to. Jake was mid-laugh again, black hair falling messily into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. The light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the way his whole body seemed to lean into the moment. Everyone around him was leaning in too, feeding off that bright, effortless warmth. 

It made something tight and irritated coil low in your stomach. Not jealousy, no, just exhaustion at the performance of it all. The way the entire party seemed wired to orbit one guy who never seemed to run out of smiles or energy.

You shrugged, “he’s too loud. Must get exhausting pretending the world’s that fun all the time.”

Jungwon bumped your shoulder lightly, his laugh soft and familiar, “c’mon, he’s not that bad. Jay swears he’s actually decent when you get him one-on-one. But yeah, he looks a wee bit too jolly tonight.”

Karina smirked, eyes glinting with teasing as she glanced at you, “you’d probably shut him down in two seconds flat if he ever tried talking to you. I’d pay to see that.”

You pressed your lips together for half a second, the thought of Jake Sim turning that sunshine smile on you—of him thinking he could just waltz into your carefully guarded space—sent a flicker of pure distaste through you. You weren’t interested in being another notch, another story he told his friends the next day. 

Your life revolved around the quiet satisfaction of getting things right, majorly focusing on, well, studies. Romance, especially the loud, golden-boy kind, had no place in it.

“Exactly,” you said, tone edged with dry sarcasm, “not interested. Let’s grab something from the food trucks and dip before it gets worse. I’ve hit my limit on forced fun for one night.”

You didn’t mind being in the crowd as long as your friends were with you, however, you did mind the exhaustion creeping upon your body. No one but you were to be blamed for it. Going to the gym in the morning, catching up on lectures later, getting groceries, and now being at a party—you’d tired yourself out with the simple mindset of being busy is a blessing. It was true to some extent, albeit not in a way that your friends would agree. The conversation didn’t dull as you started making your way out to eat with your best friends. 

On the other side of the quad, Jake was only half-listening to the guys now, he felt himself getting comfortable in his smaller circle, it was exactly the kind of night Jake usually loved.

But his eyes kept drifting. 

It wasn’t as if it was his first time seeing you, especially when Jungwon was always around too, it was merely the fact that you kept your distance, always. Jake wasn’t blind, he appreciated beauty which you carried around effortlessly. The lack of general courtesy to acknowledge strangers? Not so much. 

You looked like you wished to be anywhere but here (which was true), making him wonder why. He ran his hand through his hair, messing the soft waves before smoothing them back down, a habit he barely noticed anymore.

Jaemin, who had been unusually quiet for the last minute, suddenly leaned in closer, voice dropping low enough that only their small circle could hear over the music, “wanna make things interesting?” 

Jay groaned, knowing his proposal would cause damage in the name of merriment, because that’s how Jaemin thrived. Sunghoon was rather interested in knowing what was gonna be the deal here, and so, he continued. 

“See her? Jungwon’s friend?” The group turned and looked your way, Jay already opening his mouth to stop him, but of course, Jaemin was quicker, “make her fall in love with you in a month.”

“Wait—me?” Jake echoed, the word half-laugh, half-disbelief, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it usually did.

Jaemin leaned in closer. His grin was sharp, almost scary, “yeah, you, in one month. Make Jungwon’s friend fall for you, hard. Like, actually in love with you to the point it gets public.”

Jay’s head snapped up so fast the corn on his plate nearly toppled, “Jaemin, no. She’s not—fuck, she’s not gonna be interested, at all. I literally know her, she keeps everyone at arm’s length, especially guys like Jake, no offence.”

Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, interested now in a way that made Jake’s stomach twist, “stakes?”

Jaemin didn’t hesitate, “If Jake wins—makes her say it out loud, in front of us—he gets the M4. Keys, papers, the whole matte-black beast. Mine for a month, and if he wants to keep it after that, it’s his. No take-backs.”

The circle went quiet for half a second before Heeseung let out a low whistle, cup frozen halfway to his mouth, “your car? The one you won’t even let me sit in without a fucking background check?”

“Yep.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, shoulders tight, “Jake, this is messed up. You’ll hurt her, and then you’ll feel like shit, and she’ll hate you, and the whole group’s gonna be stuck in the middle because Jungwon’s her best friend. This isn’t a game, It’s gonna blow up in both your faces.”

Jake’s fingers found the back of his neck, then slid up into his hair without thinking. He messed them further, his eyes drifting across the quad again to where you were still walking away with Jungwon and Karina, posture straight, silver ring catching the light as you twisted it mindlessly. 

He should say no. He should clap Jaemin on the shoulder, laugh it off, steer the conversation back to the upcoming football match or the thermodynamics midterm that was currently trying to murder all of them. 

But something stubborn flickered in his chest. The same part that hated the idea of failing at the one thing he was supposedly best at, making people feel seen. You hadn’t even looked at him twice. 

One month, one girl who looked like she probably just needed someone nice to talk to and share her worries—right? 

Jake bit his lower lip for half a second, the way he did when he was locking in on a tricky play. Then the grin came back as bright and effortless, the one that always worked.

“Deal,” he said, not confident at all, though great at hiding it.

The group exploded, clearly not okay with the idea itself. Jay groaned louder, already shaking his head, “you’re both idiots. This is gonna end badly.”

Sunghoon just laughed under his breath, leaning back against the pillar, “I’ll take that bet too. Odds on Jake cracking first?”

Heeseung was already pulling out his phone, demanding proof in the form of media. Jaemin slapped Jake’s shoulder hard enough to make his red solo cup slosh over the rim.

“Day one starts tomorrow, Jakey. Better bring everything you’ve got.”

Jake laughed again, but when it settled, it left something quieter behind. Something that tasted a little (a lot) like doubt.

Later that night, when the place had emptied and the only sound left was the low hum of crickets, Jake lay on his back in his room. The mellow playlist he always played when the noise finally stopped drifted from his phone. His small notebook—the one no one ever saw—was open on his chest, a half-finished football formation doodled in the margin. He wrote one line.

She doesn’t like loud spaces, or crowds. 

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and exhaled into the dark.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He whispered.

Across campus, you were already in your room, bullet journal open on your desk, silver ring still on your finger. You didn’t know about the bet yet. All you knew was that Jake Sim had never looked your way before last night, and something about the way his eyes had followed you across the grass fell off.

You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek once, then wrote in the tiniest handwriting in the margin of tomorrow’s schedule.

Keep your distance from Jake Sim.

CHAPTER TWO: Bet inverse?

Jake’s alarm went off at 6:47 in the morning like it always did, but this morning he didn’t bother hitting snooze. He stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, the bet from last night practically sitting on his chest. Jaemin’s evil smile and Jay’s warning kept on repeating in his mind.

He should have let it go, instead, he rolled out of the bed, pulled on his black hoodie and shorts, laced up his running shoes after freshening up. He knew where Jungwon lived, the dorms near the science buildings where there was always an influx of food carts nearby. 

The distance wasn’t long per se, but his breathlessness certainly made it seem like it was, and the little hope he had to spot you in the cold of this morning.

The sky was soft gray before the sun decided to show up, and Jake’s lungs were burning in a way that made him feel good, hair sticking to his forehead by the time he slowed to jog near the coffee cart. 

To his absolute luck, he spotted you right there as you thought what you should order from the coffee cart, looking too proper in your jeans that fit you just right as if it wasn’t so early in the morning, and he took a moment to observe you, breathing hard, wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He stepped up beside you, the scent of your perfume overtaking his senses. 

His friends called him weird for this rather peculiar habit of his where he leaned in too much to get a sniff of, well, practically everything. So, it was hard fir him to control himself at the moment.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low so it wouldn’t startle you, “uh—hey.”

You turned, eyes meeting him before you granted him the smallest nod of acknowledgement, “Jake.”

The barista waited and Jake kept his hands in his hoodie pocket so he wouldn’t fidget, “one Americano for me, and whatever she’s having—I’ll cover it.”

You frowned at this because Jake truly had no reason to be talking to you here, much less paying for your drink, “you really don’t have to.”

“I know.” He offered a half-smile, the real one, “but I want to. We’ve been around each other enough—Jungwon’s parties, that study hall last semester. Felt kinda stupid that we’ve never actually talked.”

You studied him a second longer, like you were trying to decide if this was a line or just politeness. Then you told the barista your usual—vanilla latte, extra shot, and stepped aside while the machine hissed to life.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward exactly, Jake could feel the bet sitting heavy in his throat, but right now it was better—the way your perfume kept drifting over every time the breeze picked up. He wanted to lean in again, but he didn’t.

When both cups came out he handed yours over carefully, no fingers touching, just the warm cardboard passing from his palm to yours.

“Uh—thanks,” you said simply before you started walking.

He fell in beside you, matching your stride without crowding your personal space. The path was empty enough to give you both privacy which you didn’t need as his heartbeat felt a little too loud in his ears, and for the first time, he found himself being nervous to talk to someone. 

After half a minute you spoke again, “so how do you always act all nice for people you barely know?”

His lips curved, “I don’t do that, not really. Usually I’m the one everyone expects to keep things light,” he mumbled, “I saw you last night, you looked—bothered? Made me wonder what it’d be like to actually talk to you instead of just watching.”

You took a sip, wondering how he so casually admitted to staring at you, “and what’s the verdict so far?”

He glanced sideways, the early light was starting to hit the side of your face, “still figuring it out. But the coffee seems like a decent start.”

You didn’t smile, not really. But something in your expression eased, and it made him feel a little accomplished, as if he’d won something small and fragile that could disappear any moment.

The path split ahead, biotech building looming on the left. You slowed, turning to face him fully. For a second the guarded look cracked open, and he caught something underneath it—irritation, maybe, or the faintest flicker of curiosity you didn’t want to admit to.

“I’ve got lab,” you said. 

Jake nodded, the easy warmth still on his face even though his stomach twisted with how badly he wanted to ask one more question, “yeah, of course. See you around, Y/N.”

You gave one small nod then turned and walked toward the doors. He stood there until you disappeared inside, the taste of black coffee bitter on his tongue and the ghost of your perfume still clinging to the air around him. He breathed it in once, almost guilty, then let it go.

Back in his dorm he dropped onto the bed still in his hoodie, the room quiet. The small notebook he never let anyone see was already open on his lap. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, before writing: Vanilla latte with an extra shot, morning lectures in lab 291.

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and stayed like that until the pressure behind them eased.

Meanwhile, you were beyond confused narrating it to Karina later, who gave you a dry chuckle, “yeah, don’t entertain him,” she said, and you scoffed—as if you’d ever do that. 

But three days had passed since the party, and it was as if Jake had made it his personal mission to accidentally run into you whenever you least expected him to. Somehow, he had managed to get your schedule, which is why he was standing outside your lecture on the very next day. 

Jake was a poor actor and highly unaware of the same, so his exclaimed Oh, Y/N, felt rather comical to you, granted he had two coffees in his veiny hands. You chose to ignored him, face pulling into a natural smile for a second, and he stood there shocked, only to realize you were waving at Jungwon who stood behind him.

Jake stood there for a few minutes, not moving even when you had left while Heeseung and Sunghoon stood right there, judging him. Your smile—as brief as it was, had been pretty, too fucking pretty, and doubt crept up Jake. He wondered if he’ll ever be able to coax that smile out of you himself.

The thought followed him through the rest of the day, sharp enough to make him reroute his afternoon lecture so he happened to be near the vending machines right as you stepped out of lab. He was there again the morning after that, leaning against the wall outside the biotech building with a single vanilla latte in hand, the extra shot already marked on the side in the barista’s neat handwriting. Each time he appeared, he kept his voice low, never demanding more, though it felt like a blow to his ego how you actively tried to avoid him. He genuinely wished to talk to you (for the bet, of course).

By the third afternoon the rain had started, insistent against the library windows. You had slipped into the far back study nook, the one buried behind the tallest reference shelves, you needed it—needed to bury yourself in studies and forget how Jake’s persistence was beginning to thread through your days like a melody you couldn’t quite shake.

You pulled out your bullet journal and started annotating protocols for the upcoming lab, pen moving with sharp precision, and you felt a presence behind you. You were most ready to snap at Jake, but it was Jaemin who found you instead.

He dropped into the chair across from you, smirking, like he had been waiting for this exact moment, “Jake’s been hanging around you a lot lately,” he said, voice light but knowing, “you might fall for him.”

You set your pen down slowly, “what makes you think I’ll fall for him?”

Jaemin’s smirk deepened, “well, chances are less but certainly never zero.”

You frowned, irritation rising, “what do you want, Jaemin?”

“I was getting to it.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting, “I wanna propose another bet since I’m bored and I clearly care for you.”

“Another bet?” You asked, brain finally working. Jake was following you around for a fucking bet, you should’ve known. 

Jaemin watched your face change and his grin widened, “I give you thirty days to make him fall for you. And I mean truly head-over-heels kind of fall, then reject him, then you win, since you clearly don’t care about him.”

You stared at him, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, “I don’t want to be involved playing with feelings.”

“If he didn’t care for your feelings, why are you holding back?”

“Cause I’m not like him?” 

“Fair, but here’s the deal—” Jaemin leaned in closer, voice dropping.

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“It’s fun.”

“You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What is he getting out of this?”

“My car.”

Another scoff left your mouth at this, and Jaemin said he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d win. Nothing was in your mind honestly, but you were too pissed to let it go.

“And what will I get?”

“A chance to absolutely shatter Jake’s ego, and that trip to Paris with your friends, you’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

“How the fuck did you—”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, but his eyes, oh his eyes were glimmering with joy. He almost seemed like a Cheshire cat. 

So you agreed. Jaemin only smiled, walking away from you now, leaving you rather disturbed. 

As if the universe itself had been listening, Jake walked past the end of the aisle at that exact moment, eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on you. You met his gaze head-on and gave him the smallest smile you owned, and he paused mid-step, lips parting like he might say something, then you looked away, not bothering with him anymore than you had today.

The game had just begun. And this time, you were the one holding the cards.

CHAPTER THREE: Ignorance isn’t bliss 

You ignored Jake. 

It was rather easy to do so despite all the plans you had brainstormed to make him fall in love with you hopelessly. The day had been too hectic, and to say you were exhausted would be an understatement—even the slightest voice would absolutely make you scream out in frustration given the state of your mind. Which is why you found yourself sitting in the bleachers, all silent and calm. 

Truth be told, you didn’t wish to get into this mess by any means, however, Jake wasn’t one to give up. You scoffed at how he’d trade any stranger’s feelings for a stupid car, and even then he’d be celebrated for winning a bet. 

Jake didn’t know why but the past few days had been weird for him. He couldn’t understand why you smiled at him in the library only to abruptly disappear from the face of the earth next—and yes, it bothered him because the time was ticking by. Maybe Jake was a lucky guy, cause right then, he found you at the bleachers, sitting up there as if trying to hide from the world. 

It was clear you didn’t wish to be disturbed, by Jake of all people, but his feet carried him before his mind could keep up, and that’s how he found himself sitting three seats away from you, prepping to show his absolute best flirt game, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “are you okay?”

“Why are you everywhere?” You exasperated, finally turning to look at him despite knowing he’d found you before. 

For once he didn’t jump in with some easy line. He just sat there a second, elbows on his knees, watching you like he was actually trying to read the mood instead of skating past it.

“I saw you from the path,” he said, “you were up here alone, I figured I’d check if you were okay. That’s it.”

You let out a sharp breath, the exhaustion from your day mixing with the frustration that had been building since Jaemin dropped his little bomb about the bet. This is all fake, you reminded yourself. He’s only here because he wants that stupid car, that bet. 

“Checking in, right. You’ve been turning up at the coffee cart, outside my lectures, the vending machines, now here. I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”

He shifted one seat closer, jacket creaking a little, but still left space between you, “I’m not trying to push. I know it probably comes off like I’m in your face every day. It’s just—you always seem like you’re carrying a lot and you’re doing it alone. I guess I wanted to see if you were actually alright or if you were just pushing through.”

You turned to face him, eyes narrowing, “pushing through is what students do, Jake. I don’t need an audience for it.”

“Yeah, I see that,” he said, gulping as he stared at your side profile, “you’re pretty resilient about it. Most people would’ve already vented to someone by now—and maybe you did to your friends but yeah.”

“Resilient?” You let out a short laugh, “or just tired of everyone expecting me to perform. Unlike the quintessential golden boy who’s always got a smile ready.”

Jake winced, looked out at the empty field for a second, then back at you, “golden boy—ouch, fair though. That’s the label I got stuck with.”

You crossed your arms tighter, “so, why are you up here trying to talk to me instead of being there with your friends? It doesn’t add up.”

He rubbed his palm over his knee, “uh—with them it’s nonstop noise, like I love my friends but it’s all just football practice, jokes, keeping the energy up no matter what. With you—it doesn’t feel like I have to be that version of me.”

You scoffed, how cliché, “right. So now the guy who’s always the center of everything suddenly wants to sit in silence on the bleachers?”

Jake leaned forward a fraction, elbows on his knees, “there’s this whole dichotomy between what everyone sees and what’s actually going on inside. Talking to you, it’s not like that.”

“Not like that,” you repeated, the words coming out flat, “how convenient, Jake.”

He swallowed again, eyes flicking to your face as you said his name, “It’s not convenient, It’s just true. You don’t expect me to keep the vibe going, y’know? You just say what you think.”

You felt your chest tighten. He sounded so damn eloquent even when he was lying, “you’re really good at this, you know? Making it sound like you actually get it.”

“I’m not trying to be good at anything,” Jake said, voice dropping, “I just keep showing up because every time I do, I see more of the real you. Not the version you show everyone else.”

You let out a breath, he could definitely get a few points for acting, “okay, so listen then—my lab did suck today. Equipment kept failing, I’m behind on three lectures, and I came up here to be alone, that’s it. Nothing exciting.”

“Hey—i didn’t ask for exciting,” he said, staring at the way your fingers still twisted the ring, “my day was shit too—coach rode us hard about tomorrow’s game and I barely studied for my midterm. Sometimes I just want to sit somewhere and not pretend everything’s perfect.”

You stared at him, “so you picked me to sit with? Out of everyone on campus?”

“Yeah,” Jake said simply, meeting your eyes, “because you don’t expect anything from me. You call me on my shit. It’s nice, I guess.”

“Whatever, I’m fine keeping my distance and acting like you care won’t change that, okay?” 

“I do care,” Jake let out too quickly, surprised at his own words, “that’s the part you don’t believe, but it’s true.”

The conversation was getting too real, too fast, and the knowledge of the bet made every word feel like a trap, “It’s exhausting trying to figure out if any of this is real or if you’re just—”

Mid-sentence, just as your voice rose, Jake closed the gap by embracing you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you without hesitation, one hand settling at your back, the other across your shoulders. The dark jacket was soft against your cheek, still warm from the afternoon sun, carrying that clean, steady scent that was just him.

You practically froze as his heartbeat thudded against your ear—fast, as if the move had surprised him too. It was warm, really warm, making everything feel a little less heavy for a second. Even though you knew this was all part of the cursed bet, the gesture was still something, making your eyes sting. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had held you like they actually meant it.

Jake’s own breath caught as he held you. His pulse wouldn’t slow down, guilt and something else he couldn’t pinpoint made his heart seem heavier. For those few seconds he just held on, chin resting lightly against the top of your head, breathing you in like he could somehow make the whole stupid situation disappear.

It was awkward, because you in fact did not reciprocate the hug that well, proceeding to pull back with your cheeks burning. Jake’s hands stayed on your shoulders for half a second longer than they should have before he let go, looking just as thrown as you felt. He closed his eyes, biting on his bottom lip too hard, panicking cause for once, he didn’t know how to handle the situation. 

The anxiety only rose as you grabbed your bag, planning on getting up, however, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, “I’ve got a game tomorrow—It would mean a lot if you came, no pressure. You don’t have to stay the whole time or cheer or anything. Just come—if you want to for a break.”

You didn’t answer right away, watching him mutter it out all breathless, hair messy and cheeks seemingly red now. You barely caught on to his words, still processing the warmth, but a part of you did wish to reject him on the spot and walk away before the things got more complicated. 

Another part wondered what would happen if you actually showed up, since you did have your own bet to take care of. 

CHAPTER FOUR: Like a rom-com actor 

The next afternoon the stadium was already packed and buzzing when Jake stepped onto the field for warm-ups. He was supposed to be loosening up his legs, listening to the coach bark instructions, getting his head in the game. Instead his eyes kept flicking up to the stands every few seconds. The wind was blowing hard across the pitch, constantly shoving his black hair into his eyes no matter how many times he tried to push it back.

Jay jogged over and bumped his shoulder, “dude, earth to Jake? You’ve been staring up there like you’re waiting for the love of your life to appear. You good?”

Sunghoon, who was retying his cleats a few feet away, let out a low laugh, “he’s been doing it nonstop. Head snapping up every ten seconds. What’s got you so distracted today? You never get like this before a home game.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual laugh even though his stomach was doing flips,  “I’m fine, just looking for someone.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Sunghoon, “someone? As in a specific someone who’s basically a bet? Damn, this must be serious if it’s got you this antsy within a week.”

Jake didn’t get the chance to answer, because he finally spotted you.

You were sitting a few rows up with Jungwon and Karina, the wind tugging at your hair the same way it was messing with his. The second your eyes met his across the field, Jake’s breath caught hard in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs because—you actually came? For a second he forgot how to move, just standing there staring like an idiot while the wind kept pushing his hair everywhere.

You gave him a small smile and lifted your hand, waving at him softly.

Jake’s whole face lit up before he could stop it. Without thinking, he waved back enthusiastically, arm swinging high and wide as if he was trying to reach you from the middle of the pitch. His hair flew wildly in the wind as he did it, the motion so eager and over-the-top that Jay choked on his water and Sunghoon doubled over laughing so hard he had to grab onto Jay’s arm to stay upright.

“What the fuck—” Sunghoon wheezed, “you just waved like a little kid who spotted his mom after school. I’ve never seen you do that in my life.”

Jay was cracking up too, wiping water off his chin, “yeah he’s absolutely finished. Down horrendously bad and it’s not even been a few days.”

“Guess we know who’s gonna lose the bet,” added Hoon in a singsong voice. 

“He never stood a chance honestly.”

Meanwhile, around you, a bunch of girls in the stands noticed Jake’s dramatic wave and immediately started squealing, waving back excitedly and calling out his name like he’d waved at all of them. A few even stood up, cheering for him loudly.

You raised an eyebrow, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and slight disbelief, “damn,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd, “he sure is famous.”

“And a player,” added Jungwon. 

“And an asshole,” quipped Karina, arms crossed over her chest. 

You had told them, of course you did, and watching them get so enraged on behalf of you did make you feel tons better, which shouldn’t have been the case since they did threaten to chop Jake’s dick off, but hey, the way Karina said it was quite comical. 

Down on the field Jay spotted Jungwon in the stands and lifted his hand in a casual wave with a clueless grin on his face like nothing in the world was wrong. Jungwon just stared back with his jaw tight, not waving back as he was convinced Jay already knew about the bet and was somehow backing Jake up, and the thought made his expression go hard.

You nudged Jungwon’s side with your elbow, keeping your voice low, “c’mon, be normal, wave back or he’s gonna think something’s weird.”

Jungwon let out a reluctant huff, but he finally lifted his hand and gave a small, stiff wave. Jay’s grin widened like nothing had happened at all, and he turned back to the field, completely oblivious.

Karina groaned beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest against the wind, “I still can’t believe we’re freezing our asses off here when we could be on your couch watching Harry Potter for the nth time.”

You let out a small laugh despite everything, the sound almost swallowed by the growing roar of the crowd as the teams lined up, “you said you’d come for moral support.”

“Yeah, well, moral support is currently questioning every life choice that led me here,” she muttered, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at her lips anyway, “at least the view isn’t completely terrible.”

The whistle blew and the game kicked off in a whirlwind of motion. You tried to follow the ball, the quick passes, the way the players cut across the pitch, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jake. He moved with this radiant energy that pulled focus without even trying, hair whipping in the wind, legs eating up the grass, every sprint full of that effortless, captivating drive. The crowd’s cheers rose and fell in effervescent waves, but you didn’t feel any better, still suffering with that familiar push-pull of suspicion and something warmer you really didn’t wish to name.

The first half was all back-and-forth tension, both teams trading chances without anyone breaking through. Jungwon kept up a quiet running commentary under his breath, trying to keep things light, while Karina complained about the cold seeping through her jacket and how much better butterbeer would taste than the lukewarm soda they were selling. You nodded along, but your attention stayed glued to Jake, much to your friends’ dismay. Every time he glanced toward the stands, even mid-run, your chest did this annoying little flip, which pissed you off. 

Then the second half heated up. The score stayed locked until the final minutes, the air thick with anticipation. Jake got the ball near the edge of the box, dodged one defender, then another as he cut inside. The crowd held its breath as he struck it clean, a powerful curving shot that sailed straight into the top corner, past the keeper’s desperate reach.

The stadium lit up into celebration but Jake didn’t celebrate with the team right away. He turned straight toward the stands, eyes scanning until they found you. Then he pointed, right at you, his whole face breaking into this bright, almost whimsical smile as he jogged backward, arm still extended like he was making sure the entire world knew exactly who that goal was for. His jersey had ridden up in the sprint, revealing the sharp, glistening lines of his abs under the stadium lights, every defined ridge catching the late afternoon sun for a fleeting second before the fabric fell back down.

Your heart raced, oh that traitorous little thing, thudding hard enough that you could feel it in your throat. Heat rushed to your cheeks even as the knowledge of the bet sat heavy in your stomach, whispering that none of this was real. Still, for that split second, with the roar of the crowd and his hair messy in the wind and that radiant look aimed straight at you, it felt too much. Too real perhaps? Too dangerous regardless. The enigmatic pull of him was getting harder to ignore, and you hated how easily your body responded anyway.

Karina snorted beside you, rolling her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical, “oh my god, could he be any more performative? Pointing like he’s the hero in some cheesy romance movie, puh-lease.”

Jungwon chuckled quietly, but his eyes flicked to you with that same protective glint from earlier. You didn’t say anything, just stared down at the field as Jake got swarmed by his teammates, the final whistle blowing and the win sinking in. The crowd was still cheering wildly, but all you could feel was the lingering echo of that pointed finger and the confusing satiation it left within your chest.

Jungwon turned to you, voice low so only you could hear, “so, you’re actually going through with the plan?”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders dropping as you pushed yourself up from the bleacher. The metal was cold under your palms, “yeah, I kinda have to now. It’s the only way to beat him at his own game.” 

Karina stood too, brushing off her jeans with a dramatic huff, “let’s get out of here before I turn into an icicle, you better make him drop down on his knees, babe.”

You nodded, hugging them both, but instead of heading toward the exit, your feet carried you toward the locker room area. You hated this part already, leaning against the brick wall, arms wrapped around yourself against the biting wind, you waited, every second dragging like you were standing there on purpose just to prove a point to yourself.

The door eventually did swing open and you watched Jake stepping out, hair still damp from the shower and curling softly at the ends, a fresh black hoodie hanging loose over his frame. He was laughing at something one of the guys said behind him when his eyes landed on you, causing him to stop mid-step.

For a second he just stared, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into this softer, brighter, almost disbelieving expression. His lips parted, and then he broke into the biggest, most genuine smile you had seen on him yet. It was radiant, boyish in how uncontained it was, his eyes lighting up like you were the best part of his entire day, and it made your throat go dry.

“Hey—you’re still here,” he said, voice warm and a little breathless as he walked straight over to you. 

You pushed off the wall, trying to keep your expression casual even as your heart picked up speed, “you played really well out there. That last goal was incredible, it was the first time I experienced the whole stadium going crazy,” you said, completely ignoring the part where he dedicated that goal to you.

Jake’s smile grew even wider, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there, “you really stayed for the whole thing. God, that means a lot. I kept looking up into the stands and there you were. I—it motivated me, I can’t even explain it.”

He looked so happy, so openly thrilled, his eyes bright and captivating under the fading stadium lights. The way he was looking at you, like your presence genuinely made his day, made something dangerous flutter in your chest despite the reality of it all. You stepped a little closer, heart hammering, and did what you had to do.

You rose onto your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, letting it linger for a second, “Uhm—I’ll see you around,” you murmured against his skin, starting to pull back.

But Jake’s hand gently caught your wrist, stopping you. His touch was light, almost careful, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he held on too tight, since this did seem like a dream to him. Behind him, Heeseung had paused in the doorway, watching the whole exchange with an amused little smirk he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Wait,” Jake said softly, still processing the kiss, his thumb brushing once over your skin, “you’re leaving already?”

You swallowed, “yeah. I have an assignment I need to finish tonight.”

He nodded, but didn’t let go right away, “right, of course.” Then, a little shyly, he added, “there’s a party at the house tonight—but if that doesn’t work, we’re having a smaller one at the dorm in a few days. Just the guys and whoever shows up. You should come, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile for you.”

You hesitated, the warmth of his fingers and the hope in his eyes making it harder than it should have been, “I’m not really a party person, Jake.”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice gentle, “that’s why I’m telling you it’ll be chill. No pressure at all, just come hang out for a bit. I’ll even make sure there’s something better than cheap beer. Please?”

The way he looked at you, so earnest and a little nervous, made you feel guilty just a smidge. You could feel Heeseung’s amused gaze on the both of you, but you kept your focus on Jake.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, offering a small smile.

Jake’s eyes lit up like you’d already said yes. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You gave him one last nod before gently pulling your wrist back and turning to leave, but Jake’s hand caught your wrist again, gentle in his action, like he couldn’t let the moment slip away just yet. He gave a light tug, drawing you back toward him until your back pressed against his chest. For a heartbeat you felt the solid warmth of him behind you, the faint dampness of his hoodie, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then he leaned down, one arm slipping loosely around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

His lips were plump and soft, warm from the shower, staying there for a second longer than necessary. The touch was rather unhurried, sending a quiet shiver through you that had absolutely nothing to do with the wind.

“Jake—”

When he pulled back, he bit his lower lip, eyes bright and a little shy as they met yours, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice hopeful, like the words were a promise he was already holding onto.

You managed a small nod, heart still stumbling over itself, and finally stepped away. The spot on your cheek stayed warm long after you turned the corner, and you wondered how this game was gonna end. 

CHAPTER FIVE: Soaked and blue balled. 

She gets cold so fast, shoulders hunch up the second wind hits.

She keeps twisting the rings on her index and ring finger.

She has a faint dimple on her right cheek.

She fits perfectly in my ar—

Now, Jake had not the faintest clue where he was going with this, yet he kept on writing under the pretence of keeping all the minute observations in a precise manner for his advantage. He stared at the page for another moment, then shut the notebook and tossed it onto his desk. 

The ever so unforeseeable rain had started hammering against his window, and he watched one single raindrop cascading down the surface before he sat right up, grabbing an umbrella to head out without any destination in his mind. Well, he did have to bring Jay back from Jungwon’s dorm (who was facing this taxing challenge of acting normal around his hyung). It didn’t go beyond that really.

He wasn’t used to this silence and peace, he never really went out in the rain, calling it the perfect time to just play games with his friends. However, it was truly hard to pinpoint what made him rush out like this, only coming back to reality once he reached the lecture hall area. He was about to keep walking when he saw you pushing through the doors with Haechan beside you. Jake knew him, he was Jeno’s friend and also one of the dude who fucked around a lot.

Jake wasn’t any better by any means, but he hadn’t even thought of such a thing in the past eleven days. He simply stopped, watching how your umbrella showed no signs of cooperating in this windy weather, and your shoulders were starting to hunch in the same way Jake had noticed during his half time game yesterday. 

He jogged to you, dismissing any other thought, especially the one that sounded a lot like Jay’s voice laughing at him for being too involved, “hey—wait up!”

You turned around, rain evident on your lashes already, and in that fleeting second, your mind was quick to admit his beauty under the dimness of the evening. 

He lifted his umbrella higher, covering you completely as you lowered yours, the wide canopy shutting out the worst of the storm and pulling the two of you into a small, private bubble.

“Jay’s over at your dorm with Jungwon right now,” he said, a little out of breath, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “He needed some notes or something. I was heading there anyway to pick him up. Come on, my umbrella’s bigger.”

You glanced at your own umbrella, which was flapping uselessly, “I have one.”

“Yeah, but it’s not doing you much good,” Jake replied, stepping closer so the shelter stayed perfectly over you. His shoulder brushed yours as you started walking, “seriously—you’ll be soaked before you even get halfway. Let me walk you.”

Haechan gave you a quick, amused look and muttered something about seeing you in lab tomorrow before disappearing down another path with a wave, making you roll your eyes as he made missy faces, which Jake noticed.

The two of you fell into step under the umbrella. Jake kept it tilted toward you even when it meant his own left side kept getting wet. The closeness was apparent, his arm warm against yours, the faint clean scent of his shampoo mixing with the wet earth and rain. Every time you stepped around a puddle, his sleeve brushed your wrist, sending a small spark up your arm.

For a minute the only sound was the rain. Then Jake spoke, voice low and a little playful, “you know, I was halfway convinced you’d avoid me today after yesterday.”

You let out a small breath of laughter, “I thought about it, then I remembered I don’t own a boat and the campus flooded.”

He grinned, glancing down at you. The way the rain made your lashes look darker, the little droplets clinging to your skin, made his stomach flip, “lucky for me then. I would’ve been stuck walking alone, getting soaked, feeling so sorry for myself.”

“You’re still getting soaked,” you pointed out, noticing how his left shoulder was dark with water. Without thinking you shifted a little closer under the umbrella, your arm pressing more firmly against his.

Jake bit down his smile, “worth it. Besides, you’re warm and It’s nice.” His voice dropped a fraction, “are you always freezing or is it just me that brings the chill?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved despite yourself, “It’s the rain, genius. Though you do have a habit of making normal things seem complicated.”

“Complicated in a good way, I hope,” he said, the words light but his eyes searching yours for a second longer than necessary. His free hand brushed yours again as you both avoided another puddle, and this time his fingers lingered for half a second before he managed to pull himself back.

The rain kept falling, steady and heavy, but under the umbrella everything felt smaller, rather warmer, you noticed how steady his breathing was, how the warmth of him seemed to chase away the chill seeping into your bones. He bit the inside of his cheek because in that moment, he wasn’t really acting, the wanton ease you provided him with was too real.

“You’re weird,” you muttered, clearly not meaning any bit of it, and he knew the implication behind it, or maybe it was his maladaptive daydreaming.

The dorm building appeared through the silver curtain of rain. Jake slowed deliberately, drawing the last few steps out as if the walk could stretch forever. When you reached the small covered overhang by the entrance, he lowered the umbrella but didn’t step away. Instead he moved in closer, guiding you gently until your back met the cool brick wall. The overhang sheltered you both from the downpour, but the world narrowed to the narrow space between your bodies and the solid wall behind you.

He was close now, so close you could see the tiny freckles across his cheek, the way his damp hair curled softly at the temples yet again, the faint flush across the bridge of his nose from the cold. His gaze moved over your face with quiet hunger, taking in every detail—the way rain glistened on your skin, the soft flush on your cheeks, the faint dimple that appeared when your lips parted slightly. You looked so pretty like this, natural and glowing in the dim light, and the sight made his throat tighten.

You raised your eyebrow, heart hammering against your ribs, “Jake?”

He only smiled, slow and unsteady, biting down on his bottom lip as he leaned in closer, closer, until the space between you was almost gone. His eyes dropped to your mouth, dark and wanting, then lifted again to meet yours. In that suspended second neither of you were thinking about the bet, about the car, about the game you were both playing. There was only the rain, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the dizzying pull that made everything else disappear.

Right then the dorm door swung open with a loud metallic scrape.

Jay stepped out, nearly walking straight into the moment. He stopped short, eyes widening as he took in how close you and Jake were standing against the wall.

“Whoa, Y/N?” Jay said, a smirk already spreading across his face, “am I interrupting something?”

Your eyes widened in realization and you slipped sideways, ducking under Jake’s arm without a word. You pushed through the door and disappeared inside, cheeks burning, the echo of the almost-kiss still buzzing hot in your mind.

Jake stayed frozen, then groaned hard. He turned and leaned back against the same brick wall, eyes falling shut as the rain continued to fall around him, umbrella now lowered. His heart was still racing, loud and unsteady, the ghost of your warmth lingering against his chest. 

He let out a slow breath, jaw tight. I’m going to kill Jay.

CHAPTER SIX: Jaemin the instigator. 

Jake had only read a few books in his life, only one of which had a plot that truly stuck with him as someone who was never an avid enjoyer of reading literature. There was a line that kept replaying in his mind lately, more often than he cared to admit.

As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen.

Funny enough, it was from Winnie the pooh. 

It isn’t a romantic line, not even remotely, but he manages to fit it into his narrative perfectly, especially during the quiet. Mind drifting back to when the rain had been dripping from the eaves and your back had been against the brick and he’d leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of your breath. The bet had started as a stupid game. Now it felt like the kind of quiet adventure he hadn’t seen coming.

Unfortunately, the distraction followed him to the practice field. 

During a simple change-of-direction drill, his mind slipped again. The ball came low across the turf and Jake planted his left foot to cut inside, making his ankle roll with an ugly twist. It wasnt anything dramatic, just a sharp flare of pain that shot up his calf and dropped him to one knee, breath hissing between his teeth.

Jay reached him first, crouching down fast, “shit, Jake, what the hell? You good?”

Heeseung slowed beside them, still breathing hard, “dude, you’ve been completely zoned out all week, like—really zoned out. This bet is fucking with your head too much, just call it off, man. For real.”

Sunghoon hung back a step, arms crossed, watching quietly, “coach is gonna notice, y’know? It’s not worth it.”

Jake sat back on the grass, testing the ankle with a careful flex, the place already swelling under the sock. Minor, probably, but it hurt enough to make his eyes sting for a second,“It’s fine,” he muttered, forcing the usual half-smile, “just a tweak—I’m good.”

From the edge of the drill Jaemin let out a soft, pleased laugh, “or this is actually perfect timing. Wounded-puppy Jake? She’s gonna eat it up.” He clapped Jake on the back once, “I’ll handle it. You just stay looking all soft and grateful.”

Jay shot him a sharp look, “Jaemin, I swear to God—”

But Jaemin was already jogging off to find you. 

You were stepping out of your last lecture when Jaemin fell into step beside you, which was kind of scary. 

“Jake’s in the medical room,” Jaemin said casually, making your eyes go wide at the sudden voice, “twisted his ankle pretty bad at practice. Trainer’s got him taped up with ice, might even sit out the next game if it swells.”

A flicker of worry did pass through your head, but then you shrugged, “hm, kinda sounds minor.”

Jaemin’s smirk was small, “c’mon, this is perfect for the bet. He’s all vulnerable right now, best time for you to go and play nurse, make him fall a little harder. You’re already halfway there anyway.” He bumped your shoulder lightly. 

You sighed, the worry sitting heavier than you wanted to admit. Pretty bad, he’d said, “fine—I’ll check on him.”

Jaemin grinned, satisfied, “atta girl.” He peeled off toward the dorms.

You told yourself you weren’t going to bring anything. But the cafeteria line was short, and the smell of warm rice and simple broth pulled you in anyway. You ended up with a container of congee, a cold can of the original red bull, and two slightly squished steamed buns. Your hands stayed steady, but your pulse? Yeah, it didn’t.

The medical room door was halfway open. You knocked once with your elbow and stepped inside.

Jake was on the padded table, left leg propped up, ice pack soggy at the edges. His practice jersey hung open, undershirt damp against his chest, dark curls still messy and sticking to his temples. He looked tired—shoulders a little slumped, the usual bright energy dialed way down. For a second you just stood there in the doorway, and Jake’s eyes lifted to meet yours.

He gulped at the sight of you, the way a few strands of hair had slipped loose after class, the small crease between your brows that you probably didn’t even realize was there. You looked pretty like this.

Jay and Heeseung were hovering nearby. The second they saw you with the bag, they exchanged a quick glance.

Jay cleared his throat, lips twitching, “well, look who showed up.”

Heeseung pushed off the wall with a low chuckle, “we were just leaving anyway. Coach wants us back on the field.” He gave Jake’s shoulder a gentle clap. “Don’t be an idiot, yeah?” The two of them slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving the room suddenly quieter. 

Jake cleared his throat, bottom lip bitten as he observed you walking closer, “I—you didn’t have to come,” he mumbled, flustered all of a sudden. 

“You’re really being shy at me visiting you? Aren’t you the flirt of the campus?” You chuckled, “but yeah, heard you fucked up your ankle pretty bad, figured you’d be hungry.” 

His ears flushed red, “yeah, well—I wasn’t expecting anyone here, least of all you showing up here with food,” he shifted on the padded table, wincing a little, “thanks, genuinely. I was mentally preparing myself to order takeout today.”

You set the bag on the counter, pulling out the container and a spoon, handing them over. Your fingers brushed his, absorbing the warmth of his skin, and he took the food with a grateful smile. 

He peeled the lid back and took the first bite. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second. “God, this is actually really good,” he murmured, “way better than anything I would’ve scavenged later.” He ate quietly after that, the spoon scraping softly against the plastic, but every few bites his gaze lifted to you. 

You dragged the plastic stool closer and sat down beside the table, elbow resting on the edge near his good leg, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the small crease between his brows when he shifted his ankle, the way his damp hair fell across his forehead. He looked softer like this, stripped of the usual energy—which you had grown accustomed to.

“Does it hurt too much?” You asked.

Jake shrugged one shoulder, “throbs like a bitch when I put any weight on it. Nurse said it’s just a swelling, I’ll survive.” He took another bite, then glanced at you again, heart warm at the sight of you going out of your way to be here—even though it stemmed from Jaem’s instigations. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I know you had a full day.”

“It wasn’t that far out of the way,” you lied, because admitting you’d gone to the cafeteria on purpose felt too revealing, “besides, someone had to make sure you didn’t try to be a hero and walk on it.”

He let out a low chuckle, “guilty, I probably would’ve.” He set the container down for a moment, fingers brushing the edge of the table near your arm. The contact was light, accidental, but it stayed there a second too long, “you’re really something else, you know that?”

You felt the heat creep up your neck but didn’t pull away, instead, you leaned in a little closer, resting your chin on your folded arms on the edge of the table, “eat the rest before it gets cold, idiot. I’m not carrying you anywhere.”

Jake grinned, small and crooked, but his eyes stayed soft on your face. He kept eating, slower now, like he was dragging the moment out. Your eyelids grew heavy. The day pressed down on you all at once—the lectures, the walking, the quiet ache of pretending this was still just part of the game. You let your head rest fully on your arms, cheek against the cool edge of the table, close enough that your breath stirred the fabric of his shirt. Just for a minute, you told yourself.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of his breathing, the faint scent of ginger and him all mixed together, and your eyes slipped shut completely.

Jake went completely still.

He set the spoon down without a sound and lowered himself back onto the table until he was lying flat, turning his head so he could look at you properly. You were right there—head pillowed on your arms on the edge of the table, breathing slow and even, lashes dark against your skin, lips slightly parted. A strand of hair had fallen across your face. He reached out without thinking, fingertips barely grazing it before he caught himself and pulled back.

Would it make any sense for Jake to feel this unexpected emotion he still couldn’t quite pinpoint? Maybe his friends were right, he didn’t really need to follow through with whatever the bet was about. It really wasn’t worth hurting you, or himself—but then, did you even think of him as someone close to you? Perhaps as a friend at least? 

He let out a slow, shaky breath, and resorted to watching you—the way your shoulder rose and fell, the way your fingers formed a cute fist, how you let your guard down enough for your body to trust itself to fall asleep right next to him. Perhaps it was something small, yet to him, it was grand. 

So, he just lay there, inches away from you, letting the silence settle as his mind spun in circles he couldn’t stop.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Holy stalker

“So, you spent hours sleeping with him?” 

“You’re literally wording it wrong Jungwon.”

“And you almost kissed right outside the dorm—”

“Can you guys stop?” You groaned, but Karina was far from done, she was just getting started actually.

“—you can’t fucking lie to us, like genuinely you were smiling when you came in yesterday and today. What’s next? Fucking him at a party?”

“Oh god—nothing is happening, what is wrong with you both?” You stand up from the couch, turning to stare at both your friends, who sat rather comfortably with their arms crossed.

“This is not nothing, I’m just asking you, what’s the end point? Where would you draw the line, hm? If it requires physicality for him to actually fall in love with you, would you do it?”

Well, Karina did have a point. 

“We’re grown adults with active sex life so, why would that change anything?” You finish, almost defensive. 

Karina’s eyebrows shot up so fast it was almost comical. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, that wicked grin spreading slow across her face, “oh my god, listen to you. Active sex life, babe, you haven’t had dick in months and now you’re out here acting like it’s no big deal if Jake Sim rails you for the sake of the bet? Be so fucking for real right now.”

Jungwon nearly spit out his coffee, “Rina—”

“No, no, let me speak,” Karina cut him off, waving a hand without breaking eye contact with you, “I’m not judging, I’m just saying—if he’s already got you smiling like an idiot and almost-kissing you against a wall in the rain, what’s stopping you from seeing how far it goes? You gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen counter just to watch his ego implode when you ghost him after? Because honestly? I’d pay to see that. But don’t lie to yourself and say it’s all strategy when you’re feeling that way for him.”

You felt your face burn hot, “It’s not like that. I’m not—god, I’m not planning on sleeping with him, okay? I’m still in control.”

Karina barked out a laugh, “look, I love you, but if you’re gonna play this game, at least own it, and you’re allowed to enjoy the ride before you drop him and collect our Paris trip. Just don’t catch feelings and cry to us when the car means more to him than you do.”

Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, looking equal parts amused and concerned, “she’s got a point, even if she’s saying it like a psycho. Just be careful, I still don’t trust him around you, but you’re always welcome to cry to us.”

You threw a pillow at Karina’s head. It bounced off her shoulder and she just cackled harder, “you two are the worst. Go to class before I actually kick you out.”

They finally dragged themselves up—Jungwon pulling you into a quick, tight hug and muttering, “text me if it gets weird,” before heading out, Karina pausing in the doorway to shoot you one last teasing smirk, “If you do end up letting him hit, at least make him beg first. Love you, bitch.” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the dorm suddenly, blissfully quiet.

You let out a long breath and flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Your lab had been cancelled last minute—the TA had blown up the group chat at 8:47 with some excuse about electrophoresis set up not working—and now the whole morning stretched out empty in front of you. 

Too much time to think about yesterday, or the day before that, or—

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, thankfully breaking the train of your thoughts. You grabbed it lazily, expecting another spam message from the group chat. Instead it was an Instagram DM.

jake.sim: hey

didn’t have your number so i figured i’d slide in here like a normal person instead of showing up at your door like a creep 

Your lip twitched, just a smidge, because of course Jake would find your instagram and text out of nowhere. 

you: hi and you still managed to sound like a creep anyway

The three dots popped up instantly, like he’d been waiting with his phone in his hand.

jake.sim: fair actually  listen, random question is your oven working? mine’s been dead for two days and i’m craving something sweet

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Of course he had friends with working ovens. Half the football house probably had better kitchens than you did. But he was asking you, specifically.

you: yeah it works why

jake.sim: can i come bake a cake at your place? i’ll bring everything just wanna spend time with you, if that’s cool

Your stomach did a stupid little flip, and you groaned. What have you even come to?

you: sure door’s unlocked if you’re fast enough

Twenty minutes later there was a soft knock. You opened it to find Jake standing there in his black hoodie and grey sweats, hair still a little damp from a shower, maybe. Arms full of grocery bags, and he looked unfairly good, but when he shifted the bags higher on his arm you caught the tiniest wince in his leg. He hid it fast with that easy grin.

“Hey,” he breathed out, staring at just how comfortable you looked in shorts, “thanks for letting me invade, i come bearing burgers to show my gratitude.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way his eyes dragged down your bare legs for half a second before snapping back up, “didn’t you say you wanted a cake?” You raised your eyebrow. 

His grin turned a little sheepish, “cake’s the whole point, yes. Burgers are just—extra, i saw you eating this with Jungwon two days back so—”

“So you are a stalker—”

“Just observant,” he finished quickly, stepping inside as you moved out of the way. The door clicked shut behind him and he realized that your flatmates were not home, leaving the place to you and him, “not in a creepy way though.”

You just nodded, as if humouring him, eyes fixed on his hands—which were veiny as hell somehow—unpacking the stuff including flour, sugar, eggs, and well, every ingredient needed for a good cake, before giving you a burger (he got two extras, just in case).

Hopping on the edge of the counter, you unwrapped the burger as he took all the bowls out with you pointing around the cabinets. The room itself was silent but his eyes? Pretty shameless, you’d admit, because his focus was more on your ridden shorts than the flour.

Jake caught himself after a second, lips twitching like he knew exactly what he was doing, “you really gonna sit there and not help me?”

You took a bite of the burger, chewing slowly while holding his gaze, “you’re the one who begged to come over and use my oven. Eyes on the bowl, Jake.”

He laughed under his breath, and went back to the flour, but the glance he stole at your legs was anything but subtle, “easier said than done when you’re sitting right there looking like that,” he mumbled to himself as he started scooping ingredients, movements smooth despite the way he kept most of his weight on his left leg, “pass me the sugar?”

You did so without getting down. He reached past you anyway, arm brushing the side of your thigh, and didn’t pull back right away. When you finally slid off the counter to actually help, he didn’t give you much space, he handed you the whisk and stepped right behind you, chest brushing your back as he reached around to adjust your grip on the handle.

“Easy circles,” he murmured, voice dropping close to your ear, “you can be gentle with it, y’know?”

Be gentle with me—is what he wished to say, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much he enjoyed your grumpiness as well, and he was almost eager to find what more you had to offer. 

His hand stayed over yours, so warm and steady, the other settled lightly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your tank top to brush bare skin. You could feel every small shift of his body against yours, the clean scent of his hoodie mixing with the butter and vanilla already in the air.

“You’re crowding me,” you said, dry but not moving away.

“Am I?” His thumb traced one slow line along your hip, “didn’t hear you telling me to back up.”

You elbowed him lightly, feeling lightheaded, because it was odd how he actually achieved to bring out your playful side in what? Fourteen days since his bet started. But it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, “focus on the cake, not my legs.”

He leaned in, “trying and failing pretty badly.” His thumb traced one slow circle on your hip, right where your tank top had ridden up, and your pulse jumped harder. The touch was light, but it felt deliberate, like he was testing how long you’d let him stay this close.

The banter stayed easy after that, but every word felt—crazy. He teased you about not knowing how to bake (you actually didn’t). You told him he was being annoyingly precise for a guy who claimed he just wanted to hang out. Finally the batter came together, perfectly thick, smooth, and chocolatey. You scraped it into the pan he’d already greased, and Jake slid it into the oven without a word. He set the timer, then turned to you, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin.

“Twenty-five minutes,” he said, eyes flicking over you again, “think we can behave ourselves till then?”

You raised an eyebrow, still catching your breath from how close he’d been, “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Before he could answer, you flicked a leftover pinch of cocoa at his cheek—light, almost absentminded, but enough to leave a small dark smudge, shocking yourself at the easiness of it all. 

Jake blinked, then his grin turned wild, “oh, it’s like that?”

He scooped a small handful of leftover flour from the counter and flicked it right back at you. It exploded in a soft white cloud across your tank top and collarbone. You gasped, eyes widening, and retaliated instantly—grabbing more flour and tossing it at his chest. Another puff burst between you, dusting the front of his black hoodie and catching in his hair.

“Seriously?” He laughed, already scooping more, “you started it, babe.”

You tried to duck behind the island, but the kitchen was tiny and he was faster, even with the slight limp. He caught you around the waist mid-step, pulling you back as he flung another handful. Flour went everywhere—exploding in soft bursts across your arms, your hair, the counter. You twisted in his hold, laughing despite yourself, and managed to smear a streak of cocoa down his cheek before he spun you again.

He couldn’t explain it, but having you laugh so freely in his presence—him making you laugh, yeah, it felt pretty damn good, and this smile was way better than you had given Jungwon in the earlier days of Jake chasing you—not that he was comparing (he was).

Your back hit the edge of the counter, both of you breathing harder now, covered in white powder and cocoa streaks. His hands stayed locked on your waist, thumbs pressing in, meanwhile yours ended up fisted in the front of his hoodie, pulling without thinking. Flour clung to his lashes, dusted his hair, streaked across his jaw. Your heart was hammering, butterflies rioting in your stomach, every inch of you hyper-aware of how close he was, how warm his body felt through the thin layers between you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes dropping straight to your mouth, “you’ve got flour on your lip.”

“So do you,” you whispered.

Jake didn’t wipe it away. He leaned in slow, giving you every chance to stop him. Your breath caught again, but you closed the last inch anyway.

His lips were just as soft as they appeared to be, but more hungry than you could fathom, or manage. It felt consuming, the way his mouth moved against yours with this urgency but also a silent battle of him holding back. A low sound rumbled in his chest when your lips parted, granting his tongue the excess it so desperately craved. 

It slid in slow, tasting faintly of the bitter cocoa and flour, your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you were sure he could feel it. Butterflies erupted low in your stomach, fluttering all around hard enough, it made your thighs press instinctively around his hips. 

Bet. Bet. Bet.  

The words flashed sharp in the back of your mind, but it dissolved rather quickly when Jake’s hand slid higher under your tank top, palm hot and rough against the bare skin of your back, fingers spreading wide as if he was trying to cover the expanse of your skin. His other hand stayed locked at your waist, thumb digging in just enough to anchor you against him while he kissed you deeper—slower, learning the shape of your mouth. 

Everything else was forgotten for both him and you. All that existed was the warmth of his body pressed flush to yours, the faint scratch of his hoodie against your arms, the way his breath hitched when you tugged harder at the front of it.

“Yeah—fuck, like that,” he murmured against your lips, “kiss me back harder, c’mon, pretty.”

And so you did, tongue sliding against his in a messy push-pull that made his breath hitch, “you came over here to bake a cake,” you managed between kisses, sarcastic even as your hips rolled forward to meet his, “not to end up grinding on me in my kitchen.”

Jake laughed low against your mouth, the sound wrecked, and pressed his hips forward harder, letting you feel exactly how hard he was getting through his sweats, “pretty sure you started the flour fight, sweetheart. Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for this.” He kissed you deeper, tongue stroking yours in a filthy rhythm while he ground against you slow and deliberate, the friction pulling a sharp breath from you, “there, yeah. Feel that? That’s what you do to me every time you look at me like that, so fucking pretty.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan, then soothing it with your tongue. You rocked your hips right back into his, matching his pace, “you talk too much.”

He grinned against your mouth, that cocky little curve you could feel more than see, and rolled his hips again, slower this time, dragging right where it made your breath catch, “and you fucking love it.” His hand tightened on your waist, holding you steady as he kept that steady, grinding rhythm, “but keep doing that with your hips—yeah, baby, just like that—fuck.”

The oven timer went off, making you realize exactly how much time you’d devoted to this unholy activity.

You both froze, foreheads pressed together, chests heaving. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and glassy, breath hot against your mouth. Jake let out a rough, breathless chuckle, still holding you close, thumb stroking slow circles on your waist like he couldn’t stop touching you, “cake’s done.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder, a quiet laugh escaping you too, “this is insane.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, lips brushing your temple before he kissed the corner of your mouth once, lingering for a few seconds, then helped you slide down off the counter, hands steady on your hips the whole way, like he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment slip away.

It felt too—intimate, not that the act of making out wasn’t on par, it clearly was, but this? It carried more emotion than just your everyday lust. 

While the cake cooled on the rack, he prepared the frosting, letting everything take place before he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small box of candles, trying to focus on regulating his breathing, and you started with your eyebrows lifted.

“Candles? For a random cake?”

He shrugged, cheeks going a little pink under the flour, “It’s for you, actually. Kinda a thank you? You sat with me after the practice when my leg was fucked, nobody else would’ve stuck around like that. Figured I owed you something sweet.”

You stared at him for a second, because this felt too genuine again, “Jake, that’s—”

“Crazy?” He laughed softly, lighting the candles anyway. They flickered golden in the morning light, “yeah, maybe. But you make me want to do crazy shit.”

You shook your head, the word “dork” slipping out quiet and fond before you could stop it. He just grinned, making you blow the candles, and yet again, you indulged in his theatrics before he managed to cut two big slices, sliding one over to you.

The cake was actually perfect, and it was clear that there wasn’t anything Jake Sim couldn’t do, maybe he couldn’t make you fall for him, but even you weren’t too sure, granted that you’d been smiling, and it wasn’t fake by any means. You took a bite and hummed in surprise, Jake watched you the whole time with a satisfied look on his face.

Then he scooped a bit of frosting onto his finger and held it out, eyes locked on yours, “here—try it this way.”

You leaned in and took it off his finger with your lips, slow. His breath hitched hard, and when you pulled back, he brought the same finger to his own mouth and licked the rest off, shameless and unhurried, tongue dragging over the pad like he was tasting you instead of frosting.

“Fuck,” he murmured, stepping close again, hands finding your waist like they belonged there, “you’re gonna kill me, YN.”

If domesticity with you felt like this, then Jake swears he can give up his parties just to spend an extra minute holding you close to his heart—which never lied. Jake was never dumb, not even now. He had always been quick to acknowledge his feelings, which screamed at him that nothing else mattered in this moment, just him and you. When you started to look in his eyes again, you gulped.

Because all that existed was him looking at you like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Redbull gives you wings 

“The fuck?” 

Jay frowned, staring at his best friend. 

The sight was diabolical to say the least, the smile on Jake’s face despite it all—idiotic. There was no way to describe it, at least for Jay, who couldn’t fathom what absurd war Jake had gotten into to return back home with flour on his hair and body, and wait was that a Tupperware full of chocolate cake in his hands?

Jake didn’t bother with explanations, simply dropping the box on Jay’s lap, courtesy of you packing some up saying how he’d managed to make way too much for a single person. 

With how loud Jay’s voice had been, Sunghoon and Heeseung managed out come out of their rooms, equally as confused.

“Explain,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting next to Jay and grabbing a piece of cake.

“Nothing really, i just went to bake a cake with Y/N,” he managed to let out, still dazed. 

“And she decided to maul you with flour?” Heeseung winced, brushing some power off of Jake’s hair, “seems like you lost the fight.”

“C’mon, she started it, so of course I didn’t stop at that—and things, uhm, escalated.”

Right then, Hoon took a big bite of the sweet, regret clear on his face, nose wrinkling, “what the fuck, dude—there’s a whole patch of raw flour in the middle.”

Well, that batch was put in after the flour fight, which would explain the quality difference. 

Heeseung, who had already taken a forkful, shrugged and kept eating happily, “tastes fine to me. A bit lumpy, but the chocolate fixes it.”

Jay refused to touch it, not being polite in the way he pushed the whole container towards Heeseung, “yeah, I’m not eating that. And why do you look like you just got laid?”

Jake rubbed a hand over his jaw, the corners of his mouth still curved up, “we may have gotten a little distracted after the cake went in the oven.”

Heeseung choked, “distracted, how?”

Jake shrugged, not even trying to hide how pleased he was, “by kissing—a lot, oh god it felt good.” 

Jay dragged both hands down his face, “you went over there to make her fall for you and ended up making out with her in the kitchen? Jake, what the hell is going on with you? You’ve barely looked at any other girl in weeks.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just picked up a piece of the slightly floury cake and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully even though it really wasn’t that great.

“I’m thankful though, I can finally sleep without having to hear moans each fucking night,” Heeseung shudders, mind drifting back to how loud Jake and his night partners used to be. 

Sunghoon barked out a laugh, “yeah, we went from daily noise complaints to peaceful silence. Did you catch feelings or did she put her tear drop into the cake batter?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Jake mumbled, though the tips of his ears turning red said otherwise, “and we’re not in Descendants.”

They all just stared at him, till he managed to huff, sitting down on the couch which offered no space to him, dirtying it in the process, “it’s just—it’s nice, okay? I don’t have to be loud or use up all my energy around her, it feels calm to be there even in silence.”

Jay almost gagged, “calm? Did you just change your whole personality cause you’re in love now?”

Sunghoon was grinning, “next thing you know he’ll be holding her hand on campus and calling her baby in public, and trust, I’ll be documenting every bit of it.”

Jake threw a small piece of cake at him, missing on purpose, “you guys are annoying as hell. Can we talk about something else?”

The boys kept teasing him for a few more minutes—throwing in dramatic predictions about Jake turning into a full boyfriend and suggestions to get him a I’m in my soft era shirt before finally letting it go and arguing about tomorrow’s practice instead. Jake just leaned back on the couch, half-listening, the small smile never quite leaving his face.

Because he knew things had changed, and so did you. It was a gradual shift, from you tolerating Jake’s presence to enjoying it (well, some part of you did at least). The idea of seeing him often didn’t make you groan in agony, it felt like a routine granted Jake had your schedule memorized to his bones, and he made it his mission to randomly appear and fall in step with you without making it awkward. 

“Hey, got you some coffee,” he’d naturally say, always bringing the latte, but he did make you try out an overly sweet drink which he fancied, and somehow, you didn’t hate it. 

It was concerning to say the least, your friends being more concerned than you, but of course no one was blind to the fact that maybe Jake was more deep in this than you were, and that bit was not an act, not anymore at least. 

It only escalated when one afternoon, you showed up at his practice session without him having you ask, a cold can of coconut berry red bull tucked in your bag. When you tossed it his way, his whole face lit up and he stared at you with such warmth, it seemed like his eyes were shining. It wasn’t a big deal, right? 

Wrong. Jake knew it didn’t take a lot to do something for others, but you’d noticed his favourite flavour—you’d managed to remember it despite him having not mentioned it. 

He was glad it was break time, cause he immediately cracked it open, “you remembered?”

You wanted to slap yourself for how hard it was to not smile at him, so you managed a shrug, “yeah, not a big deal.”

He stepped closer, still in his practice jersey, hair slightly damp from running drills, and you noticed how they’d grown longer, the afternoon sun catching on the sharp line of his collarbone. For a second he just looked at you, “it’s a big deal when you do it.”

The way he said it was enough to send a warm flutter through your chest that you quickly tried to ignore. You crossed your arms, pretending to watch the team stretching behind him, “don’t make it weird, Sim.”

“I’m not,” he replied, but the small grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. He took another sip, eyes never really leaving your face, and he swore, it was the best drink he’d ever had.

It almost felt like you were flying in the moment, as cheesy as it might be, maybe you’d blame redbull for giving you wings or whatever. 

There were other small things too. He started saving you the quiet corner seat in the library because he knew you liked your back to the wall. You’d gotten him a hair tie when you noticed the length of his hair again, and the second he tied his hair, even you were rendered speechless for a moment. 

The way it exposed the clean line of his jaw and the sharp cut of his cheekbones made something in your stomach tighten unexpectedly. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending you hadn’t noticed, oh but he noticed, and leaned in till his nose brushed against yours, “how do i look?” he’d asked.

“Good,” you remember breathing out, making him smile and lean in further, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before jogging back to the field, where three of his friends stood with their mouths hung open. It was a rather comical sight for anyone who watched from a distance. 

At least to Jaemin, it was. He was always lurking around, and no one knew what he was trying to achieve. Jeno could only shake his head standing beside him, but well. 

Anyway, as if that wasn’t enough, Jake would send you random memes at 2 a.m. when he knew you were still up studying, and you’d reply with a dry “go to sleep” that always made him smile at his phone like an idiot. 

Jake had truly forgotten about the bet.

The whole stupid game barely crossed his mind anymore. He wasn’t playing anymore. He just wanted to be around you.

You were trying to bury the memory of the bet deep inside too. Every time it tried to creep up, you shoved it back down. You told yourself you were still in control, that this was all part of the plan. But the truth was simpler and scarier—you liked having him around. You liked the easy quiet when you studied together. You liked the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. 

And that terrified you more than anything.

CHAPTER NINE: Jealousy allegations?

“Are you like a hundred percent sure?”

You sighed, plopping on your bed with ease as you stared at Karina, who’d asked you this question at least, give or take, a million times. 

“Yes, I am sure—gosh, you gotta stop,” you mumbled, running a hand over your skirt, while Karina shook her head. 

“Trust me I have a feeling that something will happen tonight,” she exasperated for the nth time. 

Jake was finally throwing that party he’d mentioned after his game a few days back, and to Heeseung courtesy, it wasn’t a small gathering anymore, but a full blown party at their dormitory which won’t even fit the amount of people he’d invited. 

“What would happen? C’mon, I’m really okay,” you tried to reason. 

“Okay? Girl, you’re practically beaming, and you got ready before I did, is that not proof enough?” She went on, doing her eyeliner by side, “you look hot as hell in that skirt by the way, I’ll be praying for Jake.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. The black skirt sat high on your waist, paired with a simple fitted top that showed just enough skin, and most importantly—you felt confident about yourself, which just completed the look altogether. 

“Whatever. Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

Jungwon was already ready and waiting outside, and so you three went on as they both kept mumbling warnings in your ear, as if a child going outside alone for the first time. 

“Seriously, if he gets weird just text me,” Jungwon said, half-joking.

Karina bumped your shoulder. “Or I’ll drag you out myself. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”

You just shook your head and kept walking.

The dorm was loud when you stepped inside, music playing from the living room and voices overlapping in every corner. The place smelled like pizza and cheap beer (of course), the usual Saturday night mess. People were everywhere—some chilling on the couches, others crowding the kitchen for drinks.

You hadn’t even taken three steps before Jake spotted you.

He was mid-conversation with Jay near the counter, cup halfway to his mouth, when he froze. His eyes locked on you and stayed there, dragging slowly from your face down to the skirt and back up again. For a second he looked completely thrown, like someone (you) had knocked the air out of him. Then he was moving, crossing the room in a straight line without saying a word to anyone, and Jay only shook his head with a small smile. 

The second he reached you he pulled you into a hug.

His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand splaying across your lower back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He buried his face in your hair for a long moment, breathing you in like he needed it. You felt his chest rise and fall against yours, warm and solid, completely forgetting your friends who tried to process the situation from a respectful distance. 

“Fuck,” he muttered into your hair, voice low and rough, “you look—I don’t even know what to say right now.”

You laughed softly against his shoulder, letting yourself relax into the hug, “hi, Jake.”

He didn’t let go right away. His thumb rubbed a slow circle on your back, almost absentminded, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were darker than usual, a little dazed, “you’re actually trying to kill me tonight, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile, “It’s just a skirt.”

“It’s not just a skirt,” he said, voice quieter. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing the edge of the fabric like he couldn’t help it.

You were about to tease him some more when he finally loosened his hold, stepping half a step back so he could actually look at you properly. His eyes flicked down again, then back up, and he let out a small breath like he was trying to collect himself.

That was when Sunoo wandered over from the kitchen, two cups in hand, spotting you both.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sunoo said, voice bright and easy like it always was in lab, “you actually came. I was starting to think you’d bail after that nightmare protocol we had last night.”

You turned toward him with a small laugh, “yeah, I almost did, Karina basically dragged me here,” you lied easily. 

Sunoo grinned, holding out one of the cups, “here, sprite with lime. I know you hate the sweet crap they make in the kitchen.”

Jake raised his brow, almost ready to scoff because you did like sweet drinks, and whoever this man was clearly didn’t know you enough. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it, “needed that, the last lab almost killed me too.”

“Tell me about it,” Sunoo replied, leaning casually against the wall, “I spent twenty minutes trying to fix my gel after it kept tearing. Thought the TA was gonna cry with me.” He glanced at your outfit and nodded appreciatively. “By the way, that skirt looks really good on you. Way better than the lab coat.”

You let out a soft laugh, “appreciate it. Lab coat does no one any favors.”

Sunoo chuckled, “right? Anyway, how’s your presentation prep going? You were stressing about the lack of research papers ast class—”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Jake’s hand tighten slightly on your waist. He hadn’t moved away completely, still standing close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.

Across the room, Karina caught your eye from where she was standing with Jungwon near the couch. She raised her brows in a clear what the hell look, while Jungwon just shook his head slowly, arms crossed like he was already bracing himself. Jay, leaning against the kitchen counter with Heeseung and Sunghoon, muttered something that made all three of them glance over. Heeseung smirked, while Sunghoon shook his head again, amused. Jaemin, kicked back on the armchair nursing a drink, was outright grinning like he’d hit the jackpot.

Sunoo kept talking, completely unaware, asking a casual question about the upcoming quiz. You answered easily, laughing at the right moments because talking to Sunoo was just—simple? He was the same bubbly guy from lab who always offered to share notes honestly. 

Jake’s jaw ticked though, he wasn’t happy with this situation at all.

After another minute of the easy back-and-forth, Jake’s hand slid firmly from your waist to your lower back.

“Hey,” he said to Sunoo, voice calm but edged, “mind if I steal her for a second?”

Sunoo blinked, then gave an easy, unbothered smile, “yeah, of course. Nice catching up, Y/N.”

Jake didn’t bother waiting really. His hand stayed steady on your lower back as he guided you through the living room, weaving between people chatting and laughing. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way they pressed a little harder than necessary against the fabric of your top. He didn’t say a word the whole way down the hallway. The party noise faded behind you, turning into a muffled hum.

The second his bedroom door clicked shut, Jake turned to face you, eyes dark, stepping in close, backing you up until your shoulders hit the door. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your head just slightly to the side.

“Ignoring me the second he came in to talk, hm?” He asked, voice low as his breath ghosted over your neck as he leaned in, lips barely brushing the skin just below your ear, “looking this good while doing so?”

You swallowed, “Jake, he was just—”

He cut you off by pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss right under your jaw. You felt his teeth graze lightly, then the warm drag of his tongue.

“Answer me,” he murmured against your skin, voice smug, “what was so funny?”

Your breath hitched, “It—it wasn’t anything, just talking about the lab—”

He simply granted you another kiss, slower this time, right by your pulse. His hand slid down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he sucked lightly on the same spot.

“You stuttered,” he said, the words warm against your neck, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “so fucking cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, even as heat pooled low in your stomach, “you’re actually jealous right now, aren’t you?”

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, not waiting as he leaned in and kissed you on the mouth—soft at first, almost sweet, like he was trying to shut you up gently. It didn’t last, the kiss deepening fast, his tongue sliding against yours until you were gripping his shirt tighter.

When he broke it, he was breathing harder, “yeah, I am. I don’t like watching you smile at someone else when I’m standing right there.”

You opened your mouth to tease him again, but he kissed you once more, firm, before you could get the words out.

“See?” He muttered against your lips, smirking, “try and be bratty if you want me to kiss you stupid.”

“Jake—” you started, voice already breathy.

He cut you off with another kiss, this one deeper, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a second.

“Keep going,” he chuckled, “tell me how ridiculous I’m being.”

You tried, you did, “you’re being ridiculous. Sunoo was just—”

Jake’s mouth was on your neck again, sucking a slow, wet mark right below your ear. You gasped, fingernails digging in his skin now. 

“Wrong name coming out of your pretty lips, baby, try again,” he murmured, kissing the fresh mark.

“You’re fucking jealous,” you managed to say despite his previous confirmation of the same. Maybe you wanted to hear it again, maybe you wanted to feel the conviction of truth behind those words, the reality of it all. 

He kissed your lips hard, swallowing the rest of your sentence, then moved back down to your neck, sucking another mark lower this time.

“Yeah,” he admitted yet again against your skin, “I hate it—hate how easy it was for him to make you laugh like that when it took me days.”

Your head tipped back against the door with a soft thud. He kept going—kissing, sucking, marking you up like he needed to claim every inch Sunoo had made you smile at. Every bratty little comment you tried to throw at him earned you another kiss on the mouth or a deeper suck on your neck until your legs were actually trembling.

Finally Jake straightened up, eyes hungry. Without a word he bent down, hooked his arms under your thighs, and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you the few steps to his bed and laid you down.

To have you so close to him was a maddening experience, words leaving his lips with ease, “you’re beautiful, you know that?” 

Somewhere between the bet and the reality, you started getting used to his blatant sincerity he put into words. But this praise? It made you sigh blissfully, eyelids fluttering close despite not wanting to be separated from the sight of Jake getting closer to where you needed him the most. 

He crawled over you, settling between your legs, and kissed you again—slow and deep this time.

“Still think I’m ridiculous?” He asked against your mouth, hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher.

You nodded, breathless, “very.”

Jake grinned, that same smug, jealous little smile, and kissed you once more before moving lower. He took his time with your neck again, sucking fresh marks while his hands worked your skirt up around your hips. When he reached the lace edge of your panties he paused, thumb brushing over the delicate fabric.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, hooking his fingers in them and slowly dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside somewhere, taking a note to pick it up later. 

Then he settled between your thighs properly, spreading them wider. He looked up at you, hair falling messily around his face from the small ponytail, eyes gleaming as he mumbled the praises of your beauty as if he was here to worship your being instead of what seemed to be a punishment for making him jealous. 

“Still got something smart to say?” He asked.

You opened your mouth, but the second his tongue dragged over you, slow and so perfectly warm—the words turned into a broken moan.

Jake groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating right against your clit. You reached down without thinking, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head. You pulled it out, letting his dark hair fall loose, then slid your hand into it and tugged hard.

Jake moaned louder against you, the vibration making your hips jerk.

“Fuck—do that again,” he breathed, voice wrecked. 

You did, tugging on his hair as he ate you out like he had all the time in the world—long, deep licks followed by quick flicks of his tongue that had your thighs shaking around his shoulders. Every pull on his hair earned you another low groan that went straight through you. 

“C’mon, tell me how it feels,” he spoke against you, and you groaned merrily. 

It’s not that you didn’t have any experience before, because you did. But never once a guy made you feel like they actually cared about getting you off rather than them chasing their own pleasure. Their flick of tongues did nothing, but Jake? He seemed like even having his whole face pressed against you wasn’t enough, as if nothing could satiate how desperate he was to have not a molecule of space between you two. 

A lot of things were in your mind, but you could only manage to choke out a few words, “so good—baby, it feels so good.”

If Jake hadn’t already lost his damn mind, your nickname certainly made him lose the last few of his working brain cells. The moan he let out was downright pornographic, and you could swear there wasn’t a sound prettier than that. 

You were completely gone, back arching off the bed, fingers tight in his hair, lost in the wet heat of his mouth and the smug little sounds he kept making against you. 

While you were wrapped up in this little bubble of unadulterated pleasure, outside the things were a bit different as Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon stood together, shaking their heads. 

“He really just dragged her straight to his room,” Jay muttered.

Heeseung sighed, “not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

Sunghoon smirked, “a hundred fucking pounds says they don’t come out for a while.”

Karina, standing with Jungwon near the couch, crossed her arms and muttered, “I knew something was gonna happen tonight.”

Jungwon just sighed, looking resigned, “this is exactly what I was worried about.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair with the biggest grin on his face, looking far too pleased with himself.

“This is even better than I planned.”

CHAPTER TEN: Bet versus feelings. 

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

The voice seemed to have echoed, because the same sentence was being uttered at the exact same second inside two different dorms, by two different people. 

First being Jungwon, clearly directed towards you once you were done giving your side of the story to him. 

Jake was undergoing the exact same procedure of questioning, causing Jay to scream in agony. 

Things were clearly going perfectly, Jake was in too deep, you were in too deep, all for the bet, right? Right? 

Because as far as acting was concerned, even it had limits, which certainly didn’t include getting eaten out and fingered all night. Cherry on the top was when you both fell asleep in each other’s arms with Jake caressing your back so gently, you learned the meaning of comfort in its truest scene. 

So, why did it feel so easy when Jake kissed you in the morning, when he walked you back home with ease, talking normally as if everything was fine. Your heart broke a little at the thought of him just using you, and trust was a delicate topic for you. How could you even let yourself think that he actually wanted you when the whole relationship of yours was built on a pathetic bet. Which is why, you let yourself fall in deeper, to feel more of his warmth before it ends.  

Before he could ask what was bothering you, a gentle kiss was placed on his lips, “bye, Jakey.” 

The simple fact that you initiated the kiss had Jake smiling like an idiot before you walked inside your dorm, and he left for his own, heart thumping fast, almost in a way that it was synchronized. 

And now you were here, eyes watering in front of your friends who could only pull you in a deep hug. 

“Y/N, just tell him, just end this I swear,” Jungwon mumbled, and you didn’t know what to say, so you resorted to hugging them both till you fell asleep again. 

Jake on the other hand—he couldn’t stop pacing around as the three watched him like a hawk, eyes moving in sync with every step he took across the living room.

Jay leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, looking way too smug, “I told you you’d fall for her.”

Jake stopped dead in his tracks, spinning around so fast he nearly tripped, “I didn’t fall. I’m not—fuck, okay maybe I did, but shut up.”

Sunghoon let out a loud laugh, slapping his knees “you dragged her into your room in front of everyone. You’re on your knees for her at this point.”

Heeseung was already cracking up, head thrown back, “the way you looked at Sunoo? Pure murder like, he didn’t even do shit.”

Jake groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “you guys are the worst. I was standing right there and she was laughing with him like it was the easiest thing in the world. I hate it.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “you hate it? Or you’re jealous as hell?”

“Both,” Jake muttered, then dramatically dropped to his knees right in the middle of the living room, forehead hitting the floor with a thud, “I’m so fucked. What the hell is wrong with me?”

Jay let out a loud laugh, leaning forward on the couch, “wrong? It’s literally called love, Jake.”

“On your knees in the living room because a girl, you’re not yours by the way, smiled at someone else? Yeah, you’re fucked.” Sunghoon added helpfully. 

Heeseung clapped slowly, “soft boy Jake is real. We’re witnessing history.”

Jake stayed on the floor for a second, breathing hard, face pressed against the carpet. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying last night—the way you’d gasped his name when he had his mouth on you, the way your thighs had shaken around his shoulders. How he couldn’t stop staring at you even after you came down, all soft and sleepy in his bed, lashes resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. You looked so beautiful like that, relaxed and trusting, nothing guarded in your expression for once. He’d kissed your forehead then, slow and careful, while you dozed off against his chest. Later, when he still couldn’t sleep, he’d grabbed his diary and sketched you—just the curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across the pillow, the small peaceful smile you had even in sleep. It wasn’t weird. It was just—you. He needed to remember exactly how it felt.

He groaned again, louder this time, “I’m so fucked.”

“So you’ve said.”

The boys kept teasing, but Jake was already thinking ahead.

He pushed himself up, hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, “whatever. Laugh all you want, I’m gonna ask her on a proper date.”

The room went quiet for half a second, observing him closely to find out any signs of humour or a joke. 

Jay blinked, “you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, grabbing his glasses, “I’m serious.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, still amused but skeptical, “you sure that’s a good idea right now? Things are already messy as hell.”

Heeseung nodded slowly, “moving kinda fast, don’t you think?”

Jake just shrugged, the stupid smile creeping back onto his face, “I don’t care, I want to do it right.”

The problem now was that Jake had never planned a date before, heck he’d never even dated before. He knew that something grand wouldn’t work, not right now at least, so when he woke up the next day, he had a few errands to run. Thankfully, he had only one lecture, after which he found himself running around the campus with a list, more motivated thann he’d ever been. 

By late afternoon he found himself standing outside the biotech building, leaning against the wall near the main exit with his hands in his pockets. He knew your schedule by heart now. When you finally stepped out, backpack slung over one shoulder, he pushed off the wall and walked straight up to you.

You stopped, surprised, but the second he pulled you into a hug your expression softened. His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand rubbing your back like he needed the contact more than air, “hey,” he mumbled into your hair.

You smiled despite everything, pressing your face into his chest for a second, “Jake? What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice right now?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist, “I skipped.”

“You skipped?” you asked, eyes widening a little.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward but determined. “I want to take you out right now, just us, if you’ll let me.”

Your heart skipped. He was being so boldly awkward about it, standing there in the middle of the hallway like skipping practice for you was the most normal decision in the world. 

You teased, trying to keep your voice light, “what if I say no?”

Jake’s face fell instantly, that hurt-puppy look laughed at you right in the heart—big eyes, slight pout, shoulders slumping just a little like you’d actually kicked his favorite ball into traffic. It was funny how you could compare him to puppies so often and he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Then—I guess I’ll go back to practice,” he said quietly, voice cracking at the end, “but you’re really gonna say no?”

You didn’t know what to say, skipping classes wasn’t really something you did, unless you were sick beyond your ability to stand, however, a small voice within you screamed, skipping once wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, sending a shiver up his arm, “lead the way, Sim.”

Jake’s whole face lit up like you’d just handed him the world, and maybe you did. He squeezed your hand once, tight, and started walking, pulling you gently along with him.

You walked side by side across the quad, the late afternoon sun warm on your skin. His thumb kept brushing slow circles over your knuckles, and the simple touch felt so grounding, so comfortable. 

“Where are we going?” You asked after a minute, glancing up at him.

Jake grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s a secret.”

You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips, “you’re really not gonna tell me anything?”

“Nope,” he said, voice light and playful, “just trust me, okay?”

From a distance near the science building, Heeseung stood watching the two of you with a small smile, “they’re already acting like a couple,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head fondly.

When you reached the parking lot, Jake stopped in front of a sleek black car you didn’t recognize.

You looked back at Jake, “wait—you drive?”

Jake grinned, a little cocky as he opened the passenger door for you, “yeah, borrowed it from Jay. Figured walking you around campus wasn’t gonna cut it today.”

You slid in, the leather seat cool against the back of your thighs. Jake got in on the driver’s side, started the engine, then turned to you, looking a little nervous but hopeful.

“So, uh, what’s your favourite flower?” He asked, voice casual but his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel.

You raised your brow, surprised by the question, “Tulip, why?”

Jake let out a small, relieved breath. He reached into the backseat and pulled out three bouquets—a bright bunch of fresh tulips, a classic dozen roses, and a smaller mixed one with daisies and soft white flowers.

He handed them to you carefully, almost shy, “I wasn’t sure which ones you liked, so I got a few options. Just in case, thank god you chose one of those—”

You stared at the flowers in your lap, heart squeezing so hard it almost hurt. He had gone out and bought three different bouquets because he didn’t want to get it wrong, for you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned across the console and kissed him midway through his nervous ramble. 

It was soft and grateful at first, but Jake melted instantly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek like he needed to hold onto the moment. When you pulled back, his eyes were a little dazed, lips parted, that stupid, lovestruck smile back on his face.

“God,” he whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, “you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You laughed softly, cheeks warm, and settled back into your seat with the bouquets still cradled in your lap. Jake grabbed your hand again, lacing your fingers together on the center console like he couldn’t stand not touching you.

He started driving, thumb still tracing slow circles over your knuckles, stealing little glances at you every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe you were here with him.

You were so fucked, and now, you didn’t even care. 

The drive was short, just ten minutes out of campus to a quiet spot by the river. You’d passed it a few times before, always packed with students on weekends, but on a weekday afternoon it was practically empty—just the soft rush of water, a few birds, and the warm sun filtering through the trees.

Jake parked and killed the engine, then turned to you with that soft smile you’d grown to love, “wait here.”

He got out, popped the trunk, and came around to your side with a big picnic basket and a folded blanket. You watched him spread the blanket on a sunny patch of grass near the water, setting everything out with careful hands. There were little sandwiches you liked, fresh fruit, the coconut berry Red Bull he knew you’d steal from him, and even a small box of those chocolate cookies you’d mentioned once in passing.

You stepped out of the car, flowers still in your arms, feeling suddenly shy that was very out of your character, “Jake—you did all this?”

He looked up at you from where he was kneeling on the blanket, eyes bright, “yeah. Figured we deserved something nice, just us.”

You sat down beside him, cheeks warm, and he basked in it—the way you ducked your head a little, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, the small smile you couldn’t hide. He loved seeing you like this, unguarded and a little flustered because of him.

The sun got brighter as the afternoon stretched on. After you’d eaten and talked about nothing and everything, Jake stretched out and laid his head in your lap, looking up at you with those pretty eyes. No big smile this time—just quiet, almost reverent.

You reached down, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head, and gently pulled it out. His dark hair fell loose around his face. You slid your hand into it, playing with the strands, slow and gentle.

Jake let out a contented sigh, eyes never leaving your face.

“You know I have a dog named Layla?” He said quietly after a while, voice warm.

You smiled down at him, still running your fingers through his hair, “yeah? Tell me about her.”

“She’s a Border Collie. Super hyper, loves chasing balls, but she’s the biggest cuddler when she’s tired. She always knows when I’m having a bad day and just—sits next to me until I feel better.”

You laughed softly, “she sounds perfect.”

He hummed, eyes soft, “she is.”

Time passed easily between you. The river flowed steadily nearby, birds chirped overhead, and the sun warmed your skin. Jake told you how he loved singing but almost never did it in front of people because it felt too embarrassing. You told him how you were terrified of roller coasters and how you liked cats because they were quiet and independent. He almost gasped when you admitted you loved horror movies, cause they scared Jake half to death.

“You ever scream at the screen?” He asked, grinning up at you.

“Never,” you admitted, “do you?”

“A lot,” he mumbled, and you chuckled—that sound becoming Jake’s favourite each passing second. 

Jake’s eyes stayed on your face the whole time, soft and full of something deep. He felt surreal having you like this—so close, so willing, so in love with the version of you that no one else really got to see. The way your fingers moved through his hair, the gentle way you looked down at him, it made his chest ache in the best way. It made no sense how you looked so fucking pretty even from that angle, so perfect. 

At one point he reached up, hand gentle on the back of your neck, and pulled you down for a soft kiss. It was slow, sweet, full of everything you both weren’t saying yet. You got goosebumps all over, your body reacting so perfectly to him, to the quiet love blooming between you.

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’m really glad you said yes.”

You kissed him again, softer this time, heart so full it almost hurt.

You could feel how down bad he was—the way his hand rested on your thigh like he needed the contact, the quiet reverence in his gaze every time he looked up at you, the small, content sighs he let out whenever your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. He didn’t say any of it out loud, he didn’t need to, really. It was all there in the way he looked at you.

After a while he sat up slowly, hair messy from your fingers, eyes soft and dark. Without a word he reached for you, hands gentle on your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him easily, knees on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your chin with careful fingers, tilting your face down to his.

The kiss was soft at first, full of everything that had been building between you all afternoon. His lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, thumb brushing your jaw in the gentlest way.

When he pulled back he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight against his chest. You held him just as tightly, arms looped around his neck, face buried in the crook of his shoulder. You didn’t want this to end, not the warmth of him, not the steady beat of his heart against yours, not the way he made the rest of the world feel so far away.

Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, slow and lingering. You whispered his name, soft and breathless, “Jake—”

He smiled against your skin, the curve of his lips warm and pleased. Then he licked over the same spot, and your breath hitched.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks warm, “you’re terrible,” you complained, but there was no real heat in it.

Jake’s eyes sparkled with that smug little glint. Before you could say anything else he pulled you back down into a deeper kiss, filled with everything he felt—the want, the softness, the quiet desperation of someone who was completely, utterly, helplessly in love with you. His hand slid into your hair, the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close as the kiss turned slow and emotional, tongues brushing, breaths mingling, hearts beating in the same unsteady rhythm.

You melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, losing yourself in the way he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Foggy façade.

It was the third time Jake had rerouted the car to go away from the campus, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, a pout on his plump lips as you pointed out that he was, in fact, not willing to take you home. 

“I just don’t want the day to end, is that so bad?” He spoke so freely and you wondered how he got the confidence to say things like that without sounding ridiculous, his hand stayed laced with yours on the console. 

“You’re literally driving in circles,” you said, squeezing his fingers, “we’ve passed that same coffee shop twice now.”

Jake glanced over at you, eyes bright even in the fading light, “worth it. Every single time I look at you I forget where I’m supposed to be going.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away completely, “smooth talker. Take me home, Sim, I have an assignment due tomorrow.”

He made a dramatic whining sound, slowing the car at a red light, “one more hour. Please? I’ll be good. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the seat, even though you couldn’t deny it yourself, you didn’t wish to go back, “you’re impossible.”

The light turned green and instead of turning toward campus he took another random right, the river still sparkling in the distance behind you. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Jake.”

“What?” He asked innocently, but the grin tugging at his mouth was anything but, “I’m just—taking the scenic route.”

You were still bickering lightly when he suddenly pulled off the main road into a quiet, tree-lined side street and parked under the shade of an old oak. The engine cut off. For a second the only sound was the soft tick of the cooling car and your own heartbeat.

“Jake,” you said again, softer this time.

He turned to you fully, eyes dark and a little desperate, “I can’t stand not kissing you for one more second.”

Before you could even tease him about it, he was leaning across the console, one hand sliding into your hair as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was messy and urgent, like he’d been holding back the whole drive. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers curling into his shirt, the taste of the picnic strawberries still lingering on his tongue.

“Backseat,” he mumbled against your lips, already fumbling with both your seatbelts, “c’mon, baby.”

You laughed breathlessly into the kiss, “Jay’s gonna actually murder you if he finds out what we’re doing in his car.”

“Let him,” Jake grinned, nipping at your bottom lip before climbing over the console in that surprisingly smooth way he had. He tugged you with him and you tumbled into the backseat together, legs tangling, laughter bubbling up between more kisses, “totally worth getting murdered for.”

You ended up straddling his lap, your jeans rubbing against the front of his as his hands gripped your waist tight. The humping started almost immediately—slow rolls of your hips that had you both groaning at the friction. Denim on denim felt stupidly good, the thick seam of your jeans pressing right against your core every time you rocked forward.

“Fuck,” Jake breathed, head falling back against the seat as you ground down harder, “even through the jeans you feel incredible.”

You leaned down, kissing him again while you kept moving, slow and teasing,  “you’re so impatient, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, smiling when he chased your lips.

“Can you blame me?” He bucked up to meet you, hands sliding under your top to grip your bare waist, “been hard since the river. Watching you play with my hair, looking so fucking pretty, I couldn’t help it.”

The laughter died down into heavier breaths and soft moans, and you fucking loved how vocal Jake was. You kept rolling your hips in lazy circles, feeling how hard and thick he was beneath you. Jake’s hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, and every little sound he made went straight to your core.

Eventually you slid lower, kissing down his neck, then his chest, until you were kneeling between his legs in the cramped backseat. Your hands worked open his belt and jeans, and when you pulled him out, his cock was so big and thick it made your mouth water.

Jake let out a shaky breath, fingers gently threading into your hair, “baby, you really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you said, looking up at him. You nuzzled your cheek against the heavy length first, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it, feeling it twitch against your skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, low and wrecked. “Look at you—nuzzling my cock like that. So pretty.”

You licked a slow stripe from base to tip, then took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. Jake’s groan was loud, head tipping back against the seat.

“Shit—yeah, just like that,” he panted, fingers tightening in your hair but never pushing, “you look so fucking good with your lips around me.”

You took him deeper, tongue swirling every time you pulled back. He was so thick it stretched your mouth perfectly, and you loved the way he filled you.

“Jaeyun,” you moaned around him, the name slipping out soft and needy.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard, “fuck—say it again,” he groaned, voice breaking, “god, I love when you call me that. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, taking him even deeper, eyes watering a little as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He let out a wrecked sound, hips twitching up just slightly before he caught himself. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pulling, just holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the way his thighs tensed every time you hollowed your cheeks.

But then his hand slid down to your shoulder, gentle but urgent, “come here,” he breathed, voice rough, “I need you closer.”

You pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and he didn’t waste a secon—he tugged you up into his lap again, hands already working your jeans open. You shoved his jeans down further, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while he pushed two fingers into you without warning. The stretch made you gasp, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered against your neck, curling his fingers just right, “all this for me?”

You nodded, breath hitching as you kept stroking him, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. The car was getting warmer, windows starting to fog, the cramped backseat making everything feel even more intense—elbows bumping seats, knees knocking, but neither of you cared. You rocked into his hand while he fucked you with his fingers, messy and uncoordinated and perfect.

Jake’s mouth found your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned, head tilting to give him more space, and he took it, kissing, licking, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Another mark right below your ear, then one on your collarbone. He was claiming you in the quietest way possible, and it made your stomach flip.

His fingers sped up, thumb pressing against your clit, and you squeezed him tighter in response, stroking faster.

“You feel so good,” he panted, voice low and broken against your skin, “I—I can’t even think straight when you’re like this. I think I lo—”

You cut him off with a kiss, hard and desperate, swallowing whatever he was about to say. Your heart was hammering too loud, the guilt and the want twisting together until it hurt. You weren’t ready, not yet. Not when everything still felt like it was built on something you couldn’t admit out loud.

Jake groaned into your mouth, kissing you back like he understood anyway, fingers still moving inside you, thumb circling faster. You kept stroking him, messy and slick, both of you breathing hard between kisses, bodies pressed so close you could feel his heartbeat against yours.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, eyes dark and glassy, “you’re everything,” he whispered instead, the words thick, “don’t stop, baby.”

You didn’t, kissing him again, slower this time, the act so devastatingly soft, your bodies couldn’t help but react by reaching the peak of unadulterated pleasure you both provided each other with, messy and desperate, but none of you cared in the moment, enjoying the bliss of it all. 

Letting the mess of feelings stay buried under the heat of his mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE: The forgotten bet

You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, and somehow hiding in the library was the best you could do to get away from everything you wanted to be close to. Choosing a seat which you normally didn’t opt for was even worse, and the notes in front of you seemed to be in an entirely different language when your mind was elsewhere. 

But someone had this weird idea about the whereabouts of practically everyone in the campus, which is why Jaemin found you sulking in a corner, his smile as bright as ever as invited himself to sit next to you. 

“Bet not going too well, I presume,” he started, breaking your train of thoughts. 

That shit eating grin on his face infuriated more, and there was nothing more you wished to do than punch him at the given moment. 

“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped, not even bothering to look up from the notes that might as well have been written in ancient Greek.

“Relax,” he said, leaning back like he had all day, “I come in peace. Just checking in on my favorite partner in crime.”

You finally glanced at him, jaw tight, “there’s no bet anymore. So, you can leave.”

Jaemin laughed under his breath, spinning one of your pens between his fingers, “sure looks like there is to me. I saw you two at the party,  the way he dragged you into his room right in front of everyone. Then yesterday? Jay’s car parked on that quiet street for almost an hour, windows completely fogged up. Jake came back to the dorm looking like he’d just won the lottery. He’s been skipping practice, smiling at nothing, telling the guys he’s taking you on a date again very soon. He’s in deep, Y/N. Like, actually gone.”

Your stomach twisted. Of course he knew. Jaemin always knew everything that happened on campus.

He leaned in a little, voice dropping but still smug, “you’ve got him right where you want him. One more good date, a couple more nights like yesterday, and he’s gonna say it. The whole i’m in love with you speech. Then you reject him, take the Paris trip, and we both win. Easy.”

You stared at him, chest tight, “you’re actually serious right now.”

“Dead serious,” he said, grin still firmly in place. “This was your plan too, remember? Make him fall hard, then crush him. Don’t go soft on me just because he bought you three bouquets and looked at you with those puppy eyes. You’re winning. Don’t fuck it up now.”

He stood up slowly, tapping the table once with his knuckle, “think about it. He’s already forgetting the car even exists. Finish the job before it gets too messy.”

Jaemin walked off without another word, even though you did scream your answer, garnering the attention of students who weren’t pleased about it.  But yes, he did leave you alone with the heavy knot in your chest and the notes you still couldn’t read.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Too good to be true 

This wasn’t the plan. 

Sitting in the bleachers, supporting Jake, clad in this jacket as if you were his girlfriend. To make things worse, Jake absolutely preened in showing you off, not one care about embarrassment, not when he was the one who had insisted you wear it before the game even started. 

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he’d said with that easy grin, tugging the collar straight and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead right there on the sidelines where half the team could see. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, but now, with his name printed across the back in bold white letters, you felt the weight of every curious glance from the crowd.

The game was loud to say the least, Jungwon and Karina agreed, but they also silently agreed that your happiness came first, and at the moment, you looked really happy. Jake was everywhere—stealing the ball with sharp precision, setting up plays that made the stands roar, running like the field belonged to him alone. Every few minutes his eyes would flick up to the bleachers, searching until they landed on you. The second they did, his whole face would change. That bright, boyish smile would break through the concentration, and he’d give you this tiny, secret nod like you two were the only ones who understood what it meant.

“I’m not doing it,” you whispered to yourself. 

Jungwon only smiled, “we know—we’ve always known.”

You turned to look at him, “how?” Somehow the question itself made you seem small, especially the possibility of Jake finding out and losing trust in you—seemed way worse. 

“You try to act all tough, but we know how soft you are,” Karina spoke softly. 

“And with Jake? There was no way we didn’t see this coming, you really can’t fool us,” Jungwon added with a dimpled smile, making you chuckle despite the breakdown you were going to have. 

You didn’t realize how heavy the bet felt till you got it off of your chest, eyes watery as you turned to look at Jake in his element yet again, watching how he moved with ease under the burden of the timer ticking. But Jake was really good at what he did, kicking the ball straight into the net as it curled around in the corner left just as the whistle blew in the background. 

You didn’t even realize you were screaming until your own voice hit your ears. You shot up fully, hands in the air, cheering so loud your throat hurt. “Yes, Jake! Go!” The words just flew out of you, completely unfiltered. Jungwon and Karina were jumping beside you, all three of you yelling like idiots. 

Jake didn’t celebrate with his teammates. He broke away from the pile and ran straight for the stands, jumping the barrier in one smooth motion, and before you could even catch your breath he was right there in front of you, chest heaving, that huge, bright grin on his face.

He grabbed your waist with both hands and spun you around once, fast. Your feet left the ground, the roar of the crowd blurring into one big cheer.

“Jake!” You squeaked, laughing but instantly embarrassed as people around you whistled and shouted, “put me down—everyone’s watching—”

He didn’t listen. He spun you one more time, slower this time, eyes locked on yours like the rest of the stadium had disappeared. “Let them watch,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I scored that goal thinking about you, I want them to know it.”

When he finally set you back on your feet he didn’t step back. He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you right there in front of everyone—deep, a little messy, his jersey was damp with sweat, his heart still hammering against yours, but the kiss felt steady. 

Your face burned hot the second his lips touched yours. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you, phones probably out, people cheering and laughing, but Jake didn’t care at all. He kissed you like the crowd wasn’t even there, like this was the only thing that mattered.

When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, he was breathing hard, eyes shining, “I—I, uh,” he tried to find words, but with you looking at him so sweetly, he just melted, “you’re my good luck charm.”

And gosh, you smiled, pecking him softly, reciprocating the exact feelings he’d been harbouring towards you. His teammates were yelling his name from the field, and so he left with a promise to be back soon. 

It’s normal for any sane person to get scared when things feel too good to be true, exactly how they felt for you and Jake, so the flicker of worry didn’t go unnoticed by Jake after the whole team came out. When they came out of the locker rooms, hair damp and smelling like fresh soap, Jake made a face at the idea of the big victory party happening across campus.

He glanced at you, really looked at you for a second, and caught the tiny flicker of worry that crossed your face, clearing his throat, “guys, I’m tired, let’s just go to the dorm and get some food and drinks ordered in.” 

Jake looked down at you again, voice softer just for you, “that cool? We can keep it small.”

You managed a small smile and nodded, “yeah. That sounds perfect, actually.”

He smiled back, the kind of relieved, soft smile that made your chest feel a little lighter, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “good, let’s go home then.”

Jaemin, who had wandered over to join the group at some point, grinned wide. Jeno, standing a step behind him, shot Jaemin a sharp look and shook his head once, trying to warn him without saying anything out loud. Jaemin just smirked and ignored him completely.

Jake didn’t notice. He was too busy lacing his fingers with yours again, already tugging you gently toward the dorms. It was new to you, the feeling of being held in someone’s arms—in front of everyone, as if the concept of personal space was foreign to Jake, but did you actually want him to let go of you? Absolutely not, even if you won’t admit it out loud. 

Jake hadn’t let go of you once. He kept you tucked right against his side on the couch, one arm looped around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy little patterns on your arm like he couldn’t stop touching you. Every few minutes he’d lean in and press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head or the corner of your mouth, completely unbothered by the others being right there.

Was it really that easy to fall in so deep for someone within a month? Take yourself for example, wrapped up in Jake’s embrace, it certainly did seem true to some extent. 

“You okay? You’ve been quiet since we got back, was I too much?” He asked, thumb brushing the side of your neck, a worried pout on his face. 

You shook your head just a bit, “I’m just happy, you did so well out there, Jakey.”

He sighed with happiness, all worries gone in a second, “couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly, “dude, you’re so gone it’s painful to watch.”

Jake laughed, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, “leave me alone, man. I earned this.”

You were about to tease him back when the door swung open.

Jaemin strolled in with Jeno beside him, grabbing a slice of pizza from the nearest box and dropping onto the arm of the couch across from you, taking a big bite. His eyes flicked over the scene—Jake’s arm still wrapped around you, the way Jake was still leaning into you like he couldn’t get close enough. Jaemin’s grin sharpened.

“Damn, look at you two,” he said casually, chewing, “still going strong, huh? So Jake, did you finally drop the L-word on her yet? Cause you have two days left till the bet ends.”

You stilled, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room. Jeno groaned at the back cause he did try to stop Jaem, but to no avail. But it was almost as if he couldn’t pick up context cues, and so he continued, “you told her about it right? Since you’re smitten now, that’s why you’re together, right?” 

“Jaemin,” Jake warned him, his hold tightening on you, “shut the fuck up.”

Jungwon and Karina were ready to take you back, almost jumping to their feet, but that’s not where Jaem stopped. Jungwon was already shifting closer on the couch until his knee pressed against yours, one hand resting lightly on your arm like he was ready to pull you out of there the second you needed it.

“What? You didn’t tell her?” He smirked, now staring right at you, “well, too fucking bad cause she already fucking knows you’re playing her for a car,” he smirked, leaning back against the couch, finally letting the drama unfold. 

Your chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. You felt the heat rush to your face, then drain away just as fast, leaving you cold. Jay was staring at the floor like it had answers. Heeseung’s hand froze around his beer. Sunghoon looked like he wanted to sink into the cushions. Karina’s eyes were wide, looking at you knowing exactly how you felt right now—especially after the nights you cried with her. Jungwon’s fingers tightened on your arm because of the same. 

Of course his friends had known the whole time.

You pulled away from Jake’s arm slowly, like your body was moving through water. The walls you’d been trying so hard to keep down slammed back up, higher than before. You felt small, exposed, stupid even. Like every soft kiss, every my girl, every time he looked at you like you mattered had been watched and laughed at behind your back.

You stood up, “I knew it the whole time,” you confessed, observing just how panicked he seemed at the moment, “Jaemin told me everything at the very beginning—how you just bet on my feelings for his car,” you tried to stop yourself from getting emotional, letting a shaky breath out as Jake’s shaking hand held on to yours, “so he asked me to do the same, to show you how it hurts to play with someone’s emotions.” 

His face went pale, and even though he opened his mouth, no words came out, just throbbing pain in his heart, and eyes wide as if he’d gotten punched in the gut. 

Maybe him accepting it would’ve made it better, but for Jake, there wasn’t an option between fight or flight, only freezing on the spot. Everyone stayed silent, watching it unfold and Jay tried to shake Jake’s shoulders, but all he could see was your trust crumpling, and his heart breaking. 

“You—you don’t actually like me?” He asked, voice breaking. 

“I do—I fucking do,” your voice cracked as well, “going through with the bet was not my intention, but what about you, Jake?”

Jake’s hand, still reaching for yours, started to tremble. His mouth opened again, but nothing came out. The guilt on his face was so raw it made your stomach turn. He looked hurt—really hurt, and you weren’t sure how to feel anymore, the hypocrisy of it all sinking in deeper, making everything worse. You’d planned to use him too, you were no better. The walls around you shot up even higher at the absence of words, of reassurance. 

So you asked again, “Jake, was any of it real?” 

Jake finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, broken, “you—you knew the whole time?”

You nodded, a tear cascaded down the curve of your cheek freely, “yeah. I knew.”

He let out a shaky breath, like the words physically hurt him, “and you still—you let me fall for you anyway? You let me get this deep even though you knew I started it for a stupid bet? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The rise in his voice almost made you laugh, “so now you’re hurt cause I knew? After you started the whole thing for a car? That’s rich, Jake.”

Jungwon stood up right beside you, shoulder brushing yours, protective, “Y/N, you don’t have to explain anything else to him, not right now.”

“No, no—Jake just fucking tell me, is it real?” You waited for an answer, to get absolute silence in return, “Jake?” 

You tried for the last time, just to find tears streaming down his flushed face, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was too in his head, cursing himself, cursing Jaeming for letting it happen, but you? How could he ever hate you? 

Wiping your tears roughly, you let Karina embrace you, who kept glaring at all the boys. It wasn’t awkward for them, they felt guilty too, but knew better than to speak up in between them. 

You stepped back, “fine then—I’m done, we’re done. Don’t follow me, don’t text me. Just stay the hell away from me.”

You turned toward the door. Jake shot up after you, voice cracking, “Y/N, wait—please, just let me explain—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, not turning around.

Karina was already grabbing your jacket, “c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Jungwon stayed right at your side until you reached the door, then spun around, glaring at Jay, “you should’ve stopped him, you knew what he was doing from the start. You let him play with her feelings like it was nothing. What the fuck, Jay?”

Jay looked wrecked, never expecting Jungwon to get angry, “I tried, man. I told him it was fucked up—”

“You all knew!” Jungwon’s voice rose, “every single one of you sat there and watched her fall and didn’t say a word. That’s fucked up—you couldn’t reassure her after she told you everything, huh, Jake?”

You didn’t wait to hear more, stepping into the hallway, Karina right behind you, her hand gentle on your back,“I’ve got you,” she whispered, “just breathe, okay?”

Behind the closed door, it only got worse, Jungwon’s voice only got louder as Jay tried to explain himself.

As the boys gathered to calm down Jungwon, they completely missed the way Jake got up and headed towards Jaemin. Only the sound of a loud crash got their attention—Jake’s fist connecting with Jaemin’s jaw. 

“You fucking asshole,” Jake snarled, his voice raw and broken. Another punch landed, his knuckles splitting open against Jaemin’s cheekbone. Blood smeared across his hand and dripped onto the floor. Heeseung and Sunghoon tried to pull him back, but Jake was swinging again, tears streaming down his face as he cried freely, angry and devastated all at once.

“Fucking get off me!” He shouted, his voice cracking between sobs, "this is your fault—all of it! You ruined everything!”

Furniture scraped against the floor. Someone yelled for them to stop, but it fell deaf to Jake’s ears. He kept swinging, his knuckles bleeding worse with every punch, tears falling fast down his cheeks, until Heeseung and Sunghoon finally managed to drag him back, both of them breathing hard.

Jaemin didn’t care much, he looked rather amused at the situation as Jeno tried to pull him up in furious whispers of urging him to stop being messy. 

Jake stood there in the middle of the mess, shoulders shaking, blood on his hands and tears still streaming from his bloodshot eyes. He looked completely destroyed.

And you? You didn’t look back.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Salvation

So maybe you did jinx yourself for thinking everything was perfect. However, it made no sense to you, or to anyone for that matter. You weren’t an expert about feelings by any means, yet it was clear to anyone with working eyes that whatever you and Jake had was far from fake. 

Why couldn’t he say it? 

You knew the stakes, you came clean to him, and god knows you couldn’t be mad at him for telling you that it, in fact, started off because of a bit. But the silence hurt. 

“I love him,” you whispered, and Karina hugged you tighter at how raw the confession sounded. 

“I know,” she mumbled, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay.”

You stayed quiet for a while, letting her hold you. The numbness had settled deep, leaving you strangely serene even as your heart ached. There were no more tears left. Just this heavy, enthralling ache that refused to let go.

Karina eventually pulled back and brushed a strand of hair from your face, “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay? I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You nodded mutely and watched her head to the small kitchenette. The soft clink of the kettle and mugs filled the room as you sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. 

Karina was busy with the kettle as a knock came at the door, making her pause her ministrations. She walked over and opened the door just a crack, hoping it’d be Jungwon.

It was Jake.

He looked utterly destroyed. His eyes were bloodshot and had started to swell from crying, cheeks still damp with fresh tears. His knuckles were split open and bleeding, dark red smeared across his hand and the sleeve of his hoodie. He was breathing hard, like he’d run the entire way here without stopping.

Karina’s eyes widened in horror, “Jake—what the hell happened to your hands?”

He didn’t even look at her. His gaze was fixed past her shoulder, desperately searching for you, “please,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. Without waiting, he slowly lowered himself to his knees right there in the hallway, bloody hands clasped in front of him, “please, Karina, just let me talk to her. I need her to know it was real, I’m begging you.”

Karina stood frozen for a long moment, clearly torn. She glanced back at you, then down at Jake kneeling on the floor, tears still slipping down his face, knuckles dripping blood onto the tiles.

She let out a heavy, reluctant sigh.

“I—come in,” she said quietly, stepping aside, “but if you make this any worse, I swear to God, Jake—”

Jake didn’t even stand up right away. He stayed on his knees for another heartbeat, bloody hands still clasped like he was praying, before he pushed himself up on shaky legs. God, his eyes—they were red-rimmed and glassy, the golden-boy sparkle completely shattered. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure.

Karina shot you one last warning glance before she slipped into the kitchenette, muttering something about giving you two five minutes and that she’d be right there with a knife if needed. The door to your room clicked shut behind her, leaving nothing but the sound of Jake’s ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood onto your floor.

You stayed rooted on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tight around your middle like you could physically hold yourself together. Your heart was hammering so hard it hurt. A part of you wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out. The other part—the stupid, traitorous part that had fallen anyway—ached at the sight of him like this.

You swallowed hard, voice coming out sharper than you meant, “what the hell are you doing here, Jake? What now?”

Jake ran a shaky hand through his hair, smearing a thin streak of blood across his forehead, “I don’t know,” he groaned, “I really fucking don’t. You said all that shit after the game and I just—I just froze, okay? I punched Jaemin so hard I think I broke something, and it still didn’t make me feel better. Nothing did.”

You looked away, “so you came here?” 

“Yeah, I came here,” his voice was rough, frustrated. He took another step closer, boots scuffing the floor, “what else was I supposed to do? You just walked off, were my actions not enough for you, huh? I sat in my room staring at the wall like an idiot for an hour.”

You let out a sharp laugh, finally looking at him again, “oh, poor you. Must’ve been real hard.”

“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t do that. You told me you knew everything and you fell anyway. And then you just—left. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

You stood up fast, arms dropping to your sides, “what did you expect? A hug? You started this whole thing. You came after me for a bet. I only played along to fuck you over and now look at us. I’m the dumbass who actually caught feelings, while you couldn’t even admit it in front of your friends.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscle jump, “I broke the bet off before the date, Y/N. Before I even took you out. That morning I told Jaemin I was done with the whole thing. He was just stirring shit tonight to fuck with both of us.”

You stared at him, the words hitting like a slap, “you—you what?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I ended it days ago. Because it wasn’t a game anymore, not for me. But you still think I was using you the whole time, don’t you?”

Your hands started shaking, “then why the fuck didn’t you tell me? You let me keep thinking it was all fake while I was falling for you like an idiot? While I was lying to my friends and to myself?”

“Because I was terrified!” His voice cracked, louder now, “I knew the second I said it out loud you’d look at me like this—like I’m the enemy. I didn’t want to lose you and I still fucking don’t. I’m in love with you, okay? Not for the bet or the stupid car.”

You shoved at his chest, hard, but your fingers stayed twisted in his hoodie at the confession. He loves you, and he was never once hesitant to show it till now, “you’re such a fucking coward, Jake.”

“I know,” he breathed, eyes glassy as he pressed closer, forehead almost touching yours, “I’m the biggest coward on campus. But I’m yours if you still want me.”

You yanked him down by the hoodie and pulled him into a deep kiss as Jake groaned into your mouth, hands sliding under your shirt, bloody knuckles rough against your skin, and you could taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips. 

“I love you,” he gasped right against your lips, the words spilling out shaky between kisses, “fuck, I love you—”

You whined into his mouth at how freely he said it now. Jake had always been truthful to his feelings, while you’d been insecure, which is why you couldn’t do much but kiss him back, hoping that it’ll show how you reciprocate the feelings. 

The sharp tang of blood hit your tongue when his injured knuckle brushed your jaw. You pulled back, breathing hard, eyes dropping to his right hand. Only that one knuckle was split open, still seeping a thin line of red.

“Jake,” you muttered, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently and turning it over, “you’re still bleeding.”

He tried to pull you back in, eyes dark and hazy, “don’t care—”

“I do.” You slid off his lap before he could argue, legs a little unsteady as you crossed to the shelf by your desk. Your hands shook slightly when you grabbed the antiseptic wipes, a small tube of ointment, and a strip of gauze. When you turned back he was still sitting on the edge of the bed exactly where you’d left him, watching you with this raw, open look that made your stomach twist in the deepest way—cause gosh, he looked beautiful.

You knelt between his thighs again and took his injured hand. The wipe stung when you pressed it to the cut. Jake hissed softly through his teeth but didn’t pull away. He just stared at your face like the sight of you taking care of him was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

“You’re really doing this right now,” he said quietly. 

“Someone has to,” you whispered, dabbing the blood away carefully, then smoothing ointment over the split skin. Every small touch felt heavier than it should—the faint tremble in his fingers, the way your own heartbeat was slamming so hard against your ribs it felt like it was echoing in your throat. You wrapped the gauze around his knuckle slowly, and the quiet intimacy of it settled somewhere deep in your chest, warm and aching and terrifying all at once.

When you finished he caught your face with both hands and pulled you up into another kiss as if pouring every ounce of emotions he’d ever felt towards you, his lips slotting perfectly against yours, a bit messy with how reverent he was. He even wish to breathe anymore, just accepting the warmth of your mouth as a way to live. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed against your mouth again, the words vibrating through you, “god, I love you so much it feels like it’s in my bones. Like every time I touch you I remember how close I came to losing this.”

You climbed back into his lap, straddling him, and kissed him harder, hips rolling once against the obvious hardness straining in his sweatpants. The friction made you both moan softly. His bandaged hand slid up your back under your shirt, palm warm against your spine, while the other cupped the back of your neck like he was scared you’d pull away.

He broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. His eyes were glassy, voice cracking when he spoke.

“Do you actually want me?” He whispered, lips brushing yours with every word, “not because we’re both fucked up right now. Just—tell me, if not i’ll just stop. Say it against my mouth, pleasw, I need to hear it.”

Your heart felt too big for your chest, a heavy, aching throb that matched the pulse between your legs. You leaned in until your lips touched his with every syllable.

“I want you,” you breathed right against him, “I want you so fucking bad, Jake. Just you—all of you.”

The second the words left your mouth you grabbed his bandaged right hand and pressed his palm flat to the center of your chest, right over your racing heart. His fingers spread wide, the gauze rough and warm against your skin, and Jake let out this low, broken groan that vibrated straight through you.

“Fuck—baby,” he rasped, eyes fluttering like he was barely holding it together, “for me?”

You’d seen how Jake got during intimate moments, but the way he was acting right now—breathing hard against your skin, you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle without confessing all your feelings for the pretty boy in front of you. The fact that he came running so soon, that he wished to clear things up, it was enough. Staying mad at him wasn’t ever a choice when every single cell within you yearned for him. 

“For you,” you whispered gently, eyes never leaving his face. 

He looked stunning to say the least, perhaps the prettiest crier you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. His face was flushed, this beautiful shade of red gracing it, and you couldn’t help but trace your thumb over his swollen lip, “you’re so pretty,” you whispered without thinking twice.   

In one smooth motion he flipped you both, laying you down on the bed and settling between your thighs, his body pressing you into the mattress. The sudden weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his pendant swung forward and rested cool against your clavicle—it made you shiver. You looked down and saw it, your initials, small and delicate on the silver chain around his neck, nestled right there against your skin.

A soft, involuntary moan slipped out of you.

Jake’s breath hitched hard against your neck, “you see it, baby?” He whispered, his lips—so fucking soft and plush, brushed your throat as he spoke, “got it the next day after our date, been wearing it since.”

“You’re crazy,” you managed to say, but your eyes were shining just as bright as his own, his usual smile stretching, making your heart race faster than usual. 

The proximity was maddening. His chest pressed flush to yours, heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his ribs. The heat of his body soaked into every inch of you, his breath hot and ragged on your neck. He took his time to take your scent in, shamelessly so, doing exactly what he couldn’t when he first talked to you, and swore he was rather drunk on it. 

He buried his face deeper into the curve of your neck and inhaled again, slow and shaky, like he was trying to memorize you, “fuck—wanted to do this when I first met you,” he mumbled, lips dragging along your pulse point, open-mouthed and wet.

You shivered hard, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging lightly, “then stop holding back now, Jake. Touch me.”

He groaned, “yeah? You want that?” His bandaged hand slipped under your shirt, palm hot and trembling as it cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it tightened, “like this? Tell me if it’s good, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching into his touch, “don’t be gentle. I want to feel how bad you want me.”

“Fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, “I’m gonna show you how sorry I am. Gonna make you feel it with every fucking inch of me until you know I’m yours.” He pushed your shirt higher, mouth following right behind, kissing and sucking down your chest like he was starving, “god, look at you—so fucking pretty under me. Can I take this off? I need to see all of you, baby. Please?”

You nodded fast, lifting your arms. He peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside, then just stared, chest rising fast, “fuck—these tits. Been thinking about them every night.” His mouth latched onto one nipple, plush lips sucking slow and deep while his hand palmed the other one, thumb teasing the peak until you were squirming.

“Jaeyun—shit, that feels so good,” you moaned, back arching.

“Yeah? You like my mouth here?” he asked, switching sides, tongue swirling lazy circles. “Tell me, baby. I need to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“So good,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair, “don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” he sighed in pleasure, sucking harder as his teeth grazed just enough to make you gasp, the pendant dragging cool over your skin with every move of his head. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You pushed at his shoulders and flipped you both again, straddling his hips, grinding down slow and filthy against the hard line of his cock through his pants.

Jake’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan tearing out of him, “Jesus Christ—yeah, keep going, pretty.”

You leaned down, hair falling around both of you, and kissed him deep, tongue sliding against his, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, as if no amount of kissing could satiate his hunger. 

You pulled back just enough to look at him, lips still brushing and his eyes were blown wide, chest heaving under you. Holding his gaze, you gathered spit in your mouth, and let it drip slowly right onto his waiting tongue.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard beneath you. A wrecked, filthy moan tore out of his throat as the warm spit landed on his tongue. He didn’t even hesitate before swallowing it down with a shaky groan, then leaned right up and licked into your mouth like he was chasing the taste of you, tongue sliding against yours again, ever so messy and eager.

The absolute joy of being here, so free and filthy with Jake despite everything, had you getting freakier by second knowing damn well how Jake would be thrilled, and he did. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if you didn’t accept his apology, or if you’d admit that it was a game to you. But seeing neither was the case, he had to take the next step—to show exactly how much he wanted you. 

“So dirty for me, huh?” He smirked, sucking on your tongue, “fucking perfect, you’re mine, yeah? Made for me.”

“Getting possessive already?” You chuckled deeply, licking up his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, confidence boosting by second at the sight of him shivering with your ministrations, “you like it when I spit in that pretty mouth of yours, Jake? 

He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, gentle but playful, giving it a light pull before letting it go with a soft pop, “like it?” He murmured, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief even now, “darling, I fucking love it. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to be this comfortable with me—this filthy.”

You grinned, rolling your hips down against the hard line of his cock, “then stop talking and do something about it.”

Jake clicked his tongue, rolling over so you were under him again, pinning you to the mattress with his weight, eyebrow cocked up, “bossy tonight, aren’t you?” He teased, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You traced your finger up his spine, grabbing the hair on his nape with a tug that had him groaning, “why wouldn’t I be? You’re mine now, aren’t you?” You challenged. 

“Claiming me now, hm? Not mad anymore?” He caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head with his bandaged hand while his other slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider under him. 

The weight of him was heavenly, you could feel the faint ridges of his abs through his hoodie, the way his heart was slamming against your ribs like it was trying to reach you. His pendant swung forward, cool metal kissing your skin right between your breasts, and the sight of your own initials resting there made you whine yet again. 

“Want me to be mad?” You pecked his neck, “want me to go ask someone else to please me—”

Jake’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical, “you fucking dare say that again,” he almost groaned, his grip on your thigh tightening, fingers digging in like he needed to remind himself you were really here, “don’t even joke about that shit, the thought of someone else even looking at you the way I do makes me want to lose my fucking mind.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by how quickly the jealousy hit, “Jake—”

“No,” He he you off, voice rough as he shoved your shorts and panties down your legs in one impatient yank, the fabric tearing slightly at the seam. He didn’t care. He tossed them off the bed and settled between your thighs like he belonged there, his big nose brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he inhaled deep, shameless.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes locked on how wet you were, “you’re actually dripping. All this for me, just for me, hm?”

You tried to answer, but the words died in your throat when he dragged two fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness before pushing them inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made your back arch off the bed with a sharp gasp.

“Jake—”

“Yeah?” He curled his fingers deep right away, thumb brushing your clit in slow circles. His nose rubbed against your inner thigh as he leaned in closer, breath hot against your pussy, “keep talking. I wanna hear what you wanna say while my fingers are buried in you like this.”

You clenched around him, hips rolling up to chase the feeling, absolutely enamoured with how possessive he was—maybe that’s what you wanted, him claiming you so freely, “you’re so fucking jealous,” you managed, half-laugh, half-moan, “god—I fucking love you.”

It didn’t take much for you to say it, but to Jake, it was everything. 

His fingers froze deep inside you for a split second. Then he yanked them out so fast you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but before you could even protest he was surging up your body, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he stared down at you like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Say it again,” he demanded, chest heaving and eyes wild.

“I love you, Jaeyun,” you whispered, looking straight in his eyes. 

“Fuck—I love you too,” he managed to say desperately, he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you like he was trying to crawl inside your skin, “i needed to hear that.”

He pressed open mouthed kisses all over your torso, only stopping to take his hoodie off in a go, revealing the faint lines of his abs and the light scatter of freckles across his shoulders. The sight of him all flushed, made heat flood between your legs even more.

He slid back down your body fast, shoving your thighs apart wider. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up even more, his big nose brushed your inner thigh as he inhaled deep and shameless. “Fuck, you smell so good when you’re this turned on,” he groaned, then dragged his tongue in one long, filthy stripe up your pussy, moaning loud when he tasted you, “mine, hm.”

His nose rubbed firm and perfect against your clit as he licked, the pressure making your hips jerk.

“Jake—godd,” you gasped, fingers twisting in his hair.

He looked up at you, lips shiny, eyes dark, “yeah? You like my mouth on you?” He sucked your clit into his mouth, fingers pushing back inside you, curling just right, “tell me, baby, I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel while I eat this pretty pussy.”

“So good,” you moaned, thighs shaking around his head, “your nose—right there, it feels so fucking good rubbing my clit like that.”

He caressed the soft flesh of your inner thighs with his veiny hand, thumb stroking back and forth.

Placing open mouthed kisses on it made it worse (better), and you twitched hard.

Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours, lips curving into a filthy little smirk, “oh? Sensitive here?” He dragged his teeth along the inside of your thigh, then sucked hard, leaving a dark mark right where his thumb had been stroking, “fuck, I love that. Gonna mark every spot that makes you shake for me, yeah? My good fucking girl.”

He didn’t give you time to recover. He buried his face between your legs again, eyes never leaving your face, and just how perfect you looked shaking for him, memorizing every bit of it. 

He sucked harder, fingers pumping faster, nose pressing firm and relentless. “Mhm, cum for me, baby. Let me taste how much you want me right now.”

You came hard, thighs clamping around his head as you cried out his name, pulsing around his fingers while he kept licking and sucking you through it, moaning like your orgasm was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

He didn’t stop until you were whimpering and pushing weakly at his shoulders, over-sensitive and trembling.

Only then did he crawl back up your body, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was straining hard against his pants, the front completely soaked with pre-cum.

You reached down and palmed him through the fabric. “Take these off,” you said, voice hoarse, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Jake sat back on his heels, eyes locked on yours the whole time as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, keeping it on the side. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark, and leaking at the tip. He wrapped his veiny hand around it and gave himself one slow stroke, watching your reaction.

“Better?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips even as his chest still heaved, “this what you wanted?”

You bit your lip, heat flooding through you at the sight of him so flushed and bare, freckles standing out across his nose and shoulders, faint abs flexing with every breath, cock heavy in his hand.

“Better,” you breathed, sitting up just a little, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his thick length. 

He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan when you stroked him slowly from base to tip, thumb swiping over the leaking head, “love your hand, so fucking pretty,” he mumbled, hips twitching forward into your fist, “been hard for you for so long it hurts. C’mon, get on your back, baby, I need to be inside you.”

You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Jake settled between them, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness, being thick enough that the first push made your breath catch.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice strained as he pressed in slowly, making you feel every inch he gave you, “you’re so tight—fuck, just breathe for me. I’ve got you.”

It took time. He worked himself in with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust to the stretch, his jaw clenched tight, sweat already beading on his flushed chest. When he finally bottomed out, buried to the hilt, the fullness made your eyes flutter shut and a broken moan slip out of you.

“Shit, Jaeyun you’re so deep,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard, “you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, “like you were made for me. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You rolled your hips experimentally and moaned, “yeah, yeah—please.”

He started slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, building the pace slowly with steadier strokes that made your back arch and your moans louder. Every thrust pushed the air out of your lungs, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“God, look at you taking me,” he panted, eyes locked on where you were stretched around him, “so pretty and full of my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “harder, Jake. I can take it.”

He groaned and gave you exactly what you asked for, hips snapping faster, the pendant with your initials swinging between your breasts with every thrust. His veiny hand slid down to rub your clit, drawing eights on them. 

You were moaning his name, right on the edge, when you suddenly pushed at his chest, “wait—I want to ride you.”

Jake didn’t hesitate, in fact, he was already drooling at the image of your pretty tits jiggling right in front of him. He flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. You straddled his lap and sank down onto his cock in one go, both of you moaning loudly at the new angle.

“Fuck—ride me, baby,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as you started moving. His thumbs brushed your nipples, pinching and rolling them while you bounced on his thick length, “so fucking pretty riding my cock like you own it.”

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, and started sucking dark hickeys into the side of his neck, right below his jaw, “I do own it, baby.”

Jake’s head fell back, a low moan escaping him as you marked him up.

“You do, just you” he panted, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you against him while the other kept playing with your nipple, “want everyone to see I’m yours.”

He reached blindly to the side, grabbing his discarded pants. From the pocket he pulled out a delicate silver pendant—his initials engraved on it. He had planned on asking you out properly before Jaemin fucked it up, but he didn’t plan on waiting anymore, caressing your neck as he clasped it around you, letting it sit beautifully on your clavicle. 

“Wear this for me,” he said, voice rough as he watched it bounce  lightly with every roll of your hips. The cool metal rested against your overheated skin, a constant little shock that made you shiver, “now say it. Say you’re mine while you’re riding my cock.”

You sat up straighter, rolling your hips deep, warmth blooming inside you at how beautiful the small accessory was, “I’m yours, Jake,” you moaned, looking down at him, “all yours.”

His eyes rolled back for a second, hands tightening on your hips as he helped you ride him harder. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, thumb still playing with your nipple, “keep saying it. I wanna hear it every time you sink down on me, baby.”

You pressed your face into his neck again, sucking another mark there as you rode him faster, both of you lost in each other, sweaty and desperate and finally, completely real.

Jake’s grip on your hips turned bruising, fingers digging in as he thrust up to meet every roll of your body.

“Fuck—baby, I’m so close,” he panted, voice ragged, eyes half-lidded and wild, “I should pull out, shit, I didn’t even ask—”

You shook your head fast, nails digging into his shoulders as you kept riding him, “It’s a safe day,” you gasped, lips brushing his, “I want you inside. Don’t pull out, please.”

Jake’s breath hitched hard, like the words alone almost broke him, “I can’t ever deny you anything, my love,” he groaned, “not when you ask me like that.”

He slammed up into you twice, burying himself deep as he came with a wrecked moan of your name, loud enough to reverberate, hips jerking as he spilled hot and thick inside you. The feeling of him pulsing, filling you, pushed you over right after—you clenched around him hard, thighs shaking, a broken cry of his name leaving your lips.

For a long moment you both just stayed there, trembling. Jake didn’t pull out, wrapping both arms around you and flipping you gently onto your back so he could hover over you, still buried deep, bodies pressed together with no space left. His chest heaved against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking, heartbeat slamming so hard you could feel it through your ribs.

He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at you, eyes glassy and a little wide like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Then he started kissing every mark he’d left on you tonight—the dark bruise on your inner thigh, the ones on your neck, the one just above your breast. Each kiss was slow, open-mouthed, his nose caressing your skin, warm breath fanning over the fresh hickeys like he was memorizing them with his mouth.

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, letting him take his time.

“I was so ready to beg on my knees tonight if that’s what it took,” he finally whispered against your collarbone, “don’t ever make me do that again.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, still a little dazed, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees, actually.”

Jake lifted his head, eyes meeting yours, he leaned in and pecked your lips once, letting it linger before he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he needed the contact more than air.

“Brat,” he murmured, the word warm and fond against your mouth, but the way he said it was so full of quiet, desperate attachment it made your chest tighten. He stayed like that, still inside you, arms wrapped around you, one hand gently stroking up and down your back while the other traced lazy circles over the pendant now warm against your skin. 

“I love you,” he finally said, cupping your cheek. 

“I love you,” you smiled, letting him be as clingy as he wanted to be. 

“Wanna make a bet?” Jake asked, eyes gleaming as you raised your brow. 

You laughed under your breath, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “Depends. What are we betting on this time?”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “that I’ll spend the rest of my life proving this was the best bad idea we ever had.”

You smiled against his lips, pretending to think which only made him whine further. But maybe, this one was worth spending time over. 

“Bet.”

MEANWHILE: 

Jay was repenting for Jake’s sins, staring up at Jungwon, who still appeared to be dissatisfied, half pressed against the man who kept on mumbling, “sorry, Wonie. I’m sorry Jungwonie, please?”

Jungwon only huffed, arms crossed tight even as Jay clung to him like an oversized koala, “you knew about the whole stupid bet and didn’t say a word. I had to watch my best friend get emotionally waterboarded for weeks.”

“I tried to stop it!” Jay whined, nuzzling his face into Jungwon’s shoulder, “I told Jake it was a terrible idea at least thirteen times—”

“Fourteen,” Sunghoon and Heeseung deadpanned from the couch.

Jaemin, already sprawled in the armchair rocking a fresh black eye and split lip, let out a smug little snort, “relax, you babies. I was trying to get them together.”

Jeno, sitting on the floor looking two seconds from committing murder, dragged a hand down his face, “they didn’t even fucking know each other, Jaemin.”

Jaemin shrugged, completely unfazed, “but I saw the bigger picture.”

Heeseung threw a pillow at his head, “there were better ways, you absolute menace.”

Jaemin dodged it with a grin, “yeah, but none as entertaining.” He popped a chip in his mouth and asked casually, “now who do I do next?”

The entire room exploded at once.

“No.”

“Fuck no.”

“Touch another person and I’m punching you this time.”

“I swear to God, Jaemin—”

Jaemin just laughed, raising his hands like he was innocent, “fine. Jay’s next.”

The poor guy looked up in horror. 

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Jungwon snapped, yanking Jay behind him like a human shield who only blushed at the display of power, “you stay the hell away from him, Jaemin. End of discussion.”

Safe to say, everything was going to be okay. 

THANK YOU FOR READING

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