Jongseong who collects stars

“I missed you too, Jakey.” you look up at him. His thick-framed glasses were slipping down his yummy nose bridge (that you wanted to bite) as he looked back at you. You try hard not to bite your lip too much, seeing how attractive he looked clinging on to you.

The two of you were stuck inside the janitor’s closet, squeezed into the tiny space where there was a wet dripping mop on Jake’s newly bought Adidas.

Well, you guys weren’t actually stuck.

The janitor’s closet was where you two secretly meet up every lunch, when everyone was way too busy eating and gossiping to care about where the most popular girl on campus and the nerdiest boy in Section 1 disappeared to.

I mean, there’s no other place where you two can freely makeout and not get caught by the principal that freaks out when he sees couples.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, like he isn’t looking at you right now like he wants to devour you.

Truth be told, Jake always looked like he wanted to eat you up. Sometimes, he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful human being created. Sometimes, he looks at you like you’re a freshly cooked and sliced A4 Wagyu Steak.

But you love how he looks at you.

Especially when he makes eye contact with you during class hours. When he stared at you intensely, knowing that you were sweating in your chair as the professor talked about Newton’s Laws of Motion.

Actually, during Physics class, all you thought about was Jake’s veiny hands cradling your face.

What about Isaac Newton and his laws?

Because you cared more about Jake Sim and his mouth-watering hands.

“You don’t really have to ask like it’s your first time kissing me,” you say, watching him cradle your face. Jake chuckled and squishes your cheeks like you’re a needoh squishy.

“You’re so cute. And so pretty. This is all mine?”

He softly caresses your lips, making you swallow nervously.

This wasn’t your first rodeo. Jake loved kissing you so much, it’s his favorite thing to do in the whole wide world.

Jake halts. Your brows furrowed, observing the way his eyes lit up.

"Baby, did you know that…whenever we kiss…our DNA stays on each other’s lips for 60 minutes?”

You tilted your head before bursting out laughing. “Yeah? For an hour? What about it?”

“Then.. that would mean.. I should kiss you every hour,” he exclaims, “so that we have each other’s DNA for a long time.”

Jake looks at you like he just proposed the best theory ever. Better than Newton’s motion theory.

“Isn’t that like…yucky?” you ask, teasing him. His smile falters, lips turning into a pout.

“No way, it’s not!” he tries to argue. “It just means we love each other, okay?”

“Whatever. Just kiss me, nerd,” you demanded, pulling Jake by his tie. His face just a few inches above yours as his lips quirked up at your command.

Of course, Jake would never deny your request. Nor would he pass the opportunity to have his lips on yours. Like mentioned earlier, he loved kissing you, like it’s his passion.

His hands cupped your jaw, before pressing a soft peck on your lips. Then, he lowers his hands from your face.

“Hey!” you watched as he pulls away while chuckling. “You’re joking…”

You grumble, upset at the peck. Lunch is ending and you haven’t gotten a proper kiss from him yet. It’s annoying, especially when he teases you. Every time Jake kisses you, he tries to rage bait you first by just giving you a peck—so that you’d end up wanting more.

Before you could curse him out and complain, he presses his lips against yours again. This time, a little rougher, with a hand on the back of your neck and another on your waist to hold you still.

Jake’s lips were so soft and sweet, it was addicting to taste. The flavor of the mint gum you gave him earlier still lingering in his mouth. Your lips parted slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Instinctively, your fingers grab his hair, a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you.

Your heart begins racing as you deepened the kiss, you hear Jake let out a whimper. His grip on your waist tighten. The smell of your perfume and the scent of the shampoo you used made Jake dizzy—it smelled like you and that drives him crazy.

He was intoxicated with you. All he could smell is you and your taste made his knees buckle.

“More,” he pleads against your lips, breath unsteady now. The glasses he’s wearing started fogging up, but he couldn’t care less. You let out an amused chuckle, pulling away to prop his glasses on his hair.

"There.” You now see his heavy lidded eyes give you that gaze, that gaze like he seriously wanted to get on his knees for you.

“Fuck, I just want to keep on kissing you,” he whines, “I want you so bad.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we make out forever?” Jake adds, pouting once again. He rests his forehead against yours. “Pleeaaaseee?”

You can practically see his tail wagging. “Jakey, there’s five minutes left before Chemistry class starts.”

He puts back his glasses on his face, hair messy from the makeout session you two just had. Which, by the way, happens like every lunch break—and if you ask Jake, he’d want it to happen not only during lunch breaks, but every break time as well.

“Prof. Chem is never early to our class. We can afford a few more minutes, yeah?”

“More kissing?” you raised your brow, letting him pull you close to him again. He nodded, giving you a geeky smile.

“More kissing. I’ll help you out with your Physics homework later as a reward,” he whispers to you, now giggling.

You sigh. “Shouldn’t it be the opposite? Help me out with Physics and I’ll kiss you as a reward?”

“Oh… that’s okay too. How ‘bout we do both?”

Come on, the guy is just in love with you. He cannot resist kissing you. If someone made Jake choose between getting anything he wanted or getting to kiss you for hours straight… of course, he’d pick you.

The opportunity to kiss you is the greatest opportunity given to Jake.

“Hmm.. how about…” you lean forward. “Let’s first get out of this closet now, please. Then, you can get all the kisses you want later.”

Your response sparks excitement inside him. “YES—” he shouts, you immediately slap a hand on his mouth. “Sorry…” he murmured, now cheering in a tiny voice instead.

Forcefully, you pulled him by his pant’s belt loop, giving him a quick peck on the lips. His smile widens, like he was a teenage boy kissed by his crush for the first time.

Before he could even kiss you back—the closet’s door suddenly swung open.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

Jungwon stood there with his phone’s camera open and recording. “I caught you two in 4K bitches! New headline: Biggest Nerd and Most Popular girl on HYBE Campus caught making out the entire lunch break.”

You two are sooo cooked.

You told him what happened. He didn’t hesitate.

“Stay right there. I’m coming to get you.”

Fifteen minutes later, his familiar black SUV pulled up. The passenger door opened from the inside before you could reach for it. Jake leaned over the center console, his hair slightly messy, wearing a simple black hoodie and that golden retriever smile that always made everything feel a little lighter.

“Get in,” he said softly.

The second you climbed into the passenger seat, warmth enveloped you. The heater was already on full blast. Jake reached over without thinking and gently brushed wet strands of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for half a second longer than necessary.

“You okay?” he asked again, voice full of quiet concern. His eyes scanned your face like he was looking for any sign of hurt.

You nodded, even though you weren’t really.

Instead of driving straight to your dorm, Jake took the long way. He stopped at your favorite drive-thru, ordered your usual order without asking, and then pulled into an empty parking lot overlooking the city. Rain pattered softly against the roof as he handed you the warm food.

“Eat first,” he said gently. “Then you can tell me everything.”

So you did.

You vented about the terrible date while eating fries and sipping your drink. Jake listened quietly, one hand resting on the center console near yours, thumb occasionally brushing against your knuckles like he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t offer solutions. He just listened, nodding at the right moments, his warm brown eyes soft in the dashboard light.

When you finally ran out of steam, he reached over and gently squeezed your hand.

“You deserve better than that,” he said simply. “Next time you need a ride, or company, or anything… just call me. I’ll always come get you.”

The words felt heavier than they should have.

He drove you home after that, windshield wipers moving steadily. When he pulled up to your dorm building, he insisted on walking you to the door even though it was still pouring.

At your doorstep, he lingered.

“Text me when you’re inside and safe, okay?” he said, smiling that soft, golden smile. “And seriously… call me anytime. Day or night. I mean it.”

You nodded, throat strangely tight.

As you turned to go inside, Jake called your name one last time.

“Hey, princess?”

You looked back.

He stood there in the rain, hoodie getting soaked, but his smile never wavered.

“Drive safe tomorrow, yeah? Or just text me. I’ve got you.”

That was the first night.

Neither of you knew it then, but it was the beginning of everything.

The habit formed faster than either of you expected.

What started as one emergency ride home quickly became something neither of you questioned anymore. Jake was simply… there. Always.

Two weeks later, he had become your default chauffeur.

Morning classes? Jake was waiting outside your dorm with two coffees — one caramel iced latte for you, extra shot, light ice, just how you liked it. Late study sessions in the library? He’d text you at 11 p.m. asking if you needed a ride back. Random 2 a.m. cravings for convenience store snacks? He showed up in his black SUV like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You tried to protest once.

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” you said one night as he pulled up outside the library, rain pattering on the windshield.

Jake just smiled that bright, golden retriever smile and leaned over to open the passenger door for you.

“I know I don’t have to,” he replied easily, waiting until you climbed in and buckled your seatbelt. “I want to.”

His hand brushed your thigh as he shifted gears — casual, instinctive. Neither of you mentioned it.

The late-night drives became the real routine.

After a particularly brutal exam week, Jake picked you up at 1:17 a.m. You were exhausted, drained, and quietly spiraling. He didn’t ask questions right away. He just drove.

“Drive-thru or parking lot therapy?” he asked softly, glancing over at you with gentle eyes.

“Both,” you mumbled.

He took you to the usual empty lot overlooking the city lights. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, creating a peaceful rhythm on the roof. Jake parked, turned the engine off, and reached into the backseat for the blanket he’d started keeping there “just in case.”

You talked for hours.

About the pressure of finals. About feeling overwhelmed. About how sometimes it felt like you were drowning and no one noticed. Jake listened without interrupting, one hand resting on the center console near yours. At some point, when your voice started to waver, he reached over and gently intertwined your fingers with his.

His thumb stroked slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand.

“You know you can always call me, right?” he said quietly when you finally ran out of words. “Day or night. I like taking care of you.”

The words settled warm in your chest.

You didn’t realize how much you’d started relying on him.

Jake didn’t realize how much he needed those drives either.

The touches grew bolder, but always disguised as friendship.

He’d reach over to buckle your seatbelt “because you always forget.” His fingers would linger on your waist. When you got sleepy during long drives, he’d rest his hand on your head and gently guide you to lean on his shoulder.

“You’re comfortable,” he’d murmur, voice low and warm. “Just rest, princess.”

One night after a particularly long drive, he walked you all the way to your dorm door. Before you could say goodnight, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Sleep well,” he whispered, breath warm against your skin.

You froze.

Jake pulled back with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a friendly forehead kiss. Don’t overthink it.”

But both of you were overthinking it.

By the end of the month, the passenger seat of Jake’s car felt more like home than your own dorm room.

He kept a spare hoodie in the backseat for you. Your favorite snacks started appearing in the glove compartment. The aux cord was permanently connected to your phone because “your music taste is better anyway.”

One rainy night, after dropping you off, Jake sat in his car for a long time outside your building, staring at the steering wheel.

He didn’t know when “driving his best friend home” had turned into “needing to see you every day just to feel okay.”

He didn’t know he was already falling.

And you didn’t know you were falling right along with him.

The passenger seat privileges started small, then became impossible to ignore.

It began with the seatbelt.

Jake had a habit of leaning over every time you got in the car, reaching across your body to click the buckle into place. His chest would brush against yours, his face close enough that you could smell his clean, warm scent — something like fresh laundry and subtle cologne.

“You always forget,” he’d murmur with that bright, teasing smile, fingers lingering just a second too long near your waist.

You stopped forgetting on purpose.

Then came the hand on the thigh.

Whenever he shifted gears, his right hand would naturally rest on your left thigh for a moment — warm palm, long fingers spread casually, like it belonged there. He never commented on it. You never pulled away.

One night, after a long drive back from the city, you got sleepy. Jake noticed immediately.

“Come here,” he said softly, reaching over to gently guide your head to rest on his shoulder. His free hand stayed on the wheel, but his thumb occasionally brushed your arm in slow, soothing strokes.

“You’re comfortable,” he whispered when you mumbled something about being heavy. “Just rest, princess. I’ve got you.”

Your heart did something dangerous in your chest.

The forehead kisses became a ritual.

Every time he dropped you off at your dorm, no matter how late, Jake would walk you to your door. He’d pull you into a quick hug, then press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Sleep well,” he’d murmur against your skin, breath warm. “Text me when you’re in bed.”

At first, you thought it was just friendly affection — Jake had always been touchy. But the kisses started lasting longer. His lips would linger. His hand would cup the back of your head gently, like he didn’t want to let go.

One particularly cold night, after he kissed your forehead, he didn’t step back right away. He stayed close, nose brushing yours for half a second, eyes dark in the dim porch light.

“Just a friendly forehead kiss,” he said again, voice quieter than usual. “Don’t overthink it.”

But his hand was still cupping your face.

You didn’t overthink it.

You underthought it on purpose.

Because the long drives became sacred.

One midnight, after you’d had a panic attack over an upcoming presentation, Jake picked you up without question. Instead of taking you home, he drove to your favorite empty lookout point.

The city lights sparkled below as rain pattered softly on the roof. Jake turned the engine off and reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers on the center console like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Talk to me,” he said gently.

You did. You told him about the pressure, the fear of failing, the way everything felt too heavy sometimes. Jake listened without interrupting, thumb stroking slow circles on the back of your hand. When your voice started to shake, he lifted your joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“You’re not failing anything,” he whispered. “You’re doing your best. And that’s more than enough.”

The air in the car felt thick. Intimate. His eyes stayed on you, warm and steady, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

When he finally drove you home, he walked you to your door as always. The forehead kiss that night felt heavier. His lips lingered longer. When he pulled back, his gaze dropped to your lips for half a second before he caught himself.

“Get some sleep, princess,” he said hoarsely.

You watched him walk back to his car, heart racing.

One quiet Sunday night, Jake decided it was time for “driving lessons.”

“You can’t keep relying on me forever,” he teased, though his eyes sparkled with something far too fond for the words to be serious. “What if I’m not around one day? You need to know how to drive properly.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You literally told me last week you’d drive me anywhere, anytime.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, cheeks slightly pink, “still good to learn.”

He took you to an empty parking lot behind the old sports complex — wide, open, and completely deserted at 11 p.m. The city lights glowed softly in the distance as Jake parked and switched seats with you.

“Alright, princess,” he said, settling into the passenger seat with that bright, patient smile. “Hands on the wheel. Ten and two.”

You followed his instructions, but your hands were a little shaky. Jake noticed immediately. He leaned over from the passenger side, his chest brushing your shoulder as he gently adjusted your grip.

“Relax,” he murmured, voice low and warm near your ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

His hand stayed on top of yours for a moment longer than necessary, thumb brushing over your knuckles. The simple touch sent warmth spreading through your chest.

The lesson started innocently enough. Jake was surprisingly patient — guiding you through starting the car, shifting gears, gentle turns around the lot. Every time you made a small mistake, he’d laugh warmly instead of criticizing.

“You’re doing amazing,” he praised when you successfully completed a slow circle. His hand found its way to your thigh, squeezing encouragingly. “My passenger princess is becoming a driver. I’m proud of you.”

The praise made your stomach flip.

As the night went on, the tension thickened.

Jake’s hand never really left your thigh. Every gear shift became an excuse for his fingers to brush higher. When you braked a little too hard, he leaned over to steady the wheel, his chest pressed against your arm, breath warm against your neck.

“You’re tense,” he noted softly. “Breathe, baby.”

The nickname slipped out so naturally it made both of you pause.

Jake cleared his throat, ears turning pink. “I mean… princess. Old habits.”

You didn’t call him out on it.

When you finally parked the car properly after almost an hour, Jake turned to you with sparkling eyes and a proud grin.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek — dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. His lips lingered there for a heartbeat longer than a friendly kiss should.

When he pulled back, his eyes were darker, fixed on your lips.

The air in the car felt electric.

For a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance. His gaze dropped again. His hand tightened on your thigh.

Then he caught himself and laughed shakily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Guess that’s enough for tonight,” he said, voice a little rough. “Don’t want you getting too good and leaving me behind.”

You smiled, heart racing. “Never.”

Jake walked you to your dorm as always. At your door, the forehead kiss felt heavier than usual. His lips pressed firmly against your skin, one hand cupping the back of your head like he wanted to pull you closer.

“Text me when you’re in bed,” he whispered, the same line as always.

But this time, his voice trembled just slightly.

You watched him walk back to his car, the night air cool against your flushed skin.

The driving lessons became a new routine after that.

And the line between “best friends” and “something more” grew blurrier with every single touch.

-----

The tension finally snapped on a heavy rainy night in late October.

You’d called Jake after another exhausting day — not because you needed a ride, but because you simply wanted to see him. He didn’t even hesitate.

“I’m already on my way, princess.”

The rain was pouring hard by the time he pulled up. You climbed into the passenger seat, soaked despite the short dash from the building. Jake immediately reached over, brushing wet hair from your face with gentle fingers, his touch lingering.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, concern softening his eyes. Instead of driving straight to your dorm, he took the familiar route to your usual empty lookout point.

The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked windows as he parked. The sound of rain hammering the roof created a private world just for the two of you. Jake turned the engine off, leaving only the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then Jake reached over and took your hand, intertwining your fingers on the center console like he always did. But tonight his thumb stroked slower, more deliberate.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he admitted quietly, voice low. “Couldn’t stop.”

Your heart hammered.

“Jake…”

He looked at you then — really looked. His usual golden retriever warmth had deepened into something darker, hungrier. His gaze dropped to your lips.

“I can’t keep pretending this is just friendly anymore,” he whispered.

The confession hung between you for half a second.

Then you both moved at the same time.

Jake pulled you across the console into his lap, hands gripping your waist as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was desperate, months of restrained longing finally breaking free. Rain pounded on the roof as he kissed you like he’d been starving — deep, hungry, tongue sliding against yours with a low groan.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathed against your lips, hands sliding under your shirt to feel warm skin. “You have no idea.”

You tugged at his hoodie. Clothes were shoved aside in the tight space — messy, frantic, but filled with laughter when his elbow hit the steering wheel. Jake helped you out of your damp shirt, lips trailing down your neck, sucking marks into your collarbone like he needed to claim you.

When you finally sank down onto him, both of you moaned loudly at the feeling.

“Shit— you feel so good,” Jake gasped, head falling back against the seat. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you rode him slow and deep in the driver’s seat. Rain blurred the windows, creating a steamy, intimate cocoon around you.

He looked breathtaking like this — flushed cheeks, wet hair, eyes dark with pleasure and something deeper. Every thrust drew soft, needy sounds from his throat.

“You’re perfect,” he praised, voice wrecked. One hand slid between you to rub your clit while the other stayed on your hip. “So fucking perfect for me, princess.”

You came first, clenching around him with a broken moan of his name. Jake followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a low, shuddering groan, arms wrapped tightly around your body like he never wanted to let go.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your heavy breathing and the rain.

Jake didn’t pull out. He held you close, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw — tender aftercare in the middle of the storm.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice hoarse but full of warmth. “Always.”

You stayed like that for a while — connected, warm, safe — while the rain continued to fall around you.

Neither of you said it out loud yet.

But something fundamental had shifted.

The passenger seat wasn’t just a seat anymore.

It was yours.

And Jake was never letting you sit anywhere else.

-----

Everyone noticed before you and Jake did.

It started with the little things — the way Jake’s eyes would find you the second you walked into any room, the way his hand instinctively reached for yours when you were walking together, the way he called you “princess” in front of other people without thinking.

Your friends were the first to say something.

One evening, you were hanging out in the common area with a group of friends. Jake was sprawled on the couch with his head in your lap again, eyes half-closed as you played with his hair. It had become such a normal sight that no one even blinked anymore.

Jake’s phone buzzed. He ignored it.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “You’re not even going to check that?”

“Nah,” Jake said lazily, nuzzling closer to your thigh. “It’s probably just the guys. They can wait.”

Jake’s best friend, Heeseung, let out a loud laugh. “Bro. You used to answer texts in 0.2 seconds. Now you’re ignoring everyone the second she’s around.”

Jake shrugged, completely unbothered. “Priorities.”

You felt your cheeks warm. Jake just smiled up at you with that golden, heart-melting grin and pressed a soft kiss to your wrist.

“Stop it,” you muttered, half-laughing.

“Never,” he whispered back, eyes sparkling.

The teasing only got worse.

During a group dinner, Jake automatically pulled your chair closer to his and cut up some of your food when you mentioned it was too big. When someone offered you the last piece of dessert, Jake took it first, then fed it to you from his fork without hesitation.

“You two are disgusting,” Sunoo said, pretending to gag. “Just date already.”

Jake froze for half a second, then laughed it off with that bright, easy smile. “We’re best friends. This is normal best friend behavior.”

Everyone at the table stared at him.

“Yeah,” Jay said dryly. “Totally normal to look at your ‘best friend’ like she hung the stars.”

Jake’s ears turned pink, but he just wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against his side.

“Mind your business,” he said cheerfully, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “She’s my passenger princess. That’s it.”

You didn’t miss the way his fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder — like the words were starting to feel too small for whatever this was becoming.

The rumors spread across campus quickly.

“Jake’s whipped.”

“He basically lives in that car with her.”

“I’ve never seen him let anyone else sit in the passenger seat.”

Even professors noticed. One day after class, your media studies professor smiled knowingly as Jake waited for you by the door like a loyal puppy.

“You two are adorable,” she said warmly. “The way he looks at you… it’s sweet.”

Jake just grinned and took your bag from your shoulder without being asked, slinging it over his own.

“Ready to go home, princess?”

You walked out together, his hand brushing yours until he finally laced your fingers together.

He still called it “just being a good friend.”

But the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention told a completely different story.

The next day, You had a group project meeting that ran longer than expected. When it ended, one of your group members — a tall, friendly guy named Minho from your marketing class — offered to drive you back to the dorms since it was on his way.

“It’s raining pretty hard,” he said with an easy smile. “No point waiting around.”

You hesitated for half a second. Jake usually picked you up, but he had a late dance practice today. You didn’t want to bother him.

“Sure,” you replied. “Thanks.”

You climbed into Minho’s car — the passenger seat.

Jake finished practice early.

He’d been looking forward to picking you up all day. The moment he got to your usual spot outside the business building, he frowned.

Your usual spot was empty.

He waited five minutes. Then ten.

His phone buzzed with a text from you:

y/n 🩷

Meeting ran late. Minho offered to drive me back. See you later? ❤️

Jake stared at the message.

Minho.

He knew who Minho was. Friendly guy. Popular. Sat in his seat.

Something ugly twisted in his chest.

When you finally arrived at the dorm parking lot, Jake was already there.

He was leaning against his black SUV, arms crossed, rain dripping from his hair. The moment Minho’s car pulled up and you stepped out, Jake’s eyes narrowed.

Minho waved at you cheerfully. “See you in class!”

“Yeah, thanks again!” you called back.

The second Minho drove off, Jake pushed off his car and walked straight toward you. His usual golden retriever energy was nowhere to be found. Instead, his jaw was tight, shoulders tense.

“You let him drive you?” he asked, voice deceptively calm.

You blinked. “Yeah… it was raining and you had practice. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Jake stepped closer, towering over you. His hand came up to brush a raindrop from your cheek, but the touch was firmer than usual.

You stared at him.

“Jake,” you said, “it’s just a car seat.”

His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until your back was against his SUV. Rain continued to fall around you, but Jake didn’t seem to care. His eyes were dark, conflicted.

“I don’t like it,” he admitted, forehead resting against yours. “I don’t like seeing you in someone else's seat. I don’t like thinking about you laughing with him. I don’t like any of it.”

His voice dropped even lower.

“You’re supposed to call me.”

The raw edge in his tone made your heart stutter.

You reached up and cupped his face, rain dripping down both of you.

“Jake,” you said softly. “Are you jealous?”

He didn’t deny it this time.

Instead, he kissed you.

It was desperate and frustrated, his hands gripping your waist as he pressed you against the car. The kiss tasted like rain and months of unspoken feelings. When he pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes were glassy.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I’m being ridiculous. But the thought of you not needing me anymore… it fucks me up.”

You pulled him into another kiss, softer this time.

“I’ll always need you,” you murmured against his lips. “Even when I learn to drive. Even when it rains. Especially when it rains.”

Jake let out a shaky breath and hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck.

“Don’t do that again,” he mumbled, voice muffled against your skin.

You laughed softly, holding him just as tight.

“Deal, passenger princess privileges reserved.”

He smiled against your neck — that warm, golden smile you loved so much.

But the jealousy lingered.

And you both knew the conversation was far from over.

Two days later, the rain had returned, heavier this time, turning the world outside into a soft, blurred watercolor. Jake picked you up after your last class without being asked. The moment you climbed into the passenger seat, he reached over and buckled your seatbelt for you, fingers lingering on your waist.

He didn’t drive you to your dorm.

Instead, he took you to your usual lookout point, parking so the city lights shimmered through the rain-streaked windows. The heater hummed softly. The only sounds were the rain and your breathing.

For a long moment, Jake just held your hand on the center console, thumb stroking slow circles like he was grounding himself.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he finally spoke, voice quiet. “About me being jealous. About acting ridiculous.”

You turned to look at him. His usual bright smile was gone. In its place was something raw and vulnerable.

“I know I’ve been… a lot lately,” he continued, staring at your joined hands. “The possessiveness. The way I get upset when other people get close to you. I keep telling myself I’m just being a good friend, but that’s not true anymore.”

He swallowed hard.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared that if I stop driving you everywhere, if I stop being the one you call when you need something… you won’t need me anymore. You’ll realize you can do everything on your own, and I’ll just be… left behind.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his voice.

“Jake…”

He looked at you then, eyes glassy in the dim dashboard light.

“You’ve become my favorite part of every day,” he said softly. “The drives. The late nights. Even the stupid arguments. I don’t know when it stopped being ‘just helping my best friend’ and turned into ‘I can’t breathe properly when you’re not around.’”

He let out a shaky laugh, trying to play it off.

“I sound pathetic, don’t I?”

You unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed over the console into his lap. Jake’s hands immediately found your waist, holding you like you were something precious.

“You’re not pathetic,” you whispered, cupping his face. “You’re human. And I feel the same way.”

His breath hitched.

You kissed him then — slow, deep, and full of everything you’d both been too scared to name. Jake kissed you back like he was afraid it was a dream, hands sliding under your shirt to feel warm skin, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

Clothes were removed with trembling hands and soft laughter when elbows hit the steering wheel. Jake laid the seat back as far as it would go and pulled you down onto him, both of you moaning at the feeling.

This time it was slow. Loving. Emotional.

He moved inside you with deep, rolling thrusts, eyes locked on yours the entire time. One hand stayed on your hip, the other cupping your face like he needed to memorize every expression you made.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, voice breaking. “I’m so in love with you it hurts sometimes.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks. You kissed them away, riding him slowly, grinding down until he was trembling beneath you.

“I love you too,” you gasped, forehead pressed to his. “So much, Jake.”

He came first, burying himself deep with a broken moan of your name, holding you so tightly it almost hurt. You followed right after, clenching around him as pleasure washed over you both.

Afterward, Jake didn’t let you go.

He kept you in his lap, still connected, arms wrapped around you as rain continued to fall. He pressed soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your temple — tender aftercare mixed with quiet sniffles.

“I was so scared to say it,” he whispered against your skin. “Scared you’d laugh. Scared you’d pull away.”

You stroked his hair gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

He held you tighter, burying his face in your neck as another wave of emotion hit him.

For the first time, Jake let himself be completely vulnerable in your arms.

And you held every piece of him.

But that didn't last long, as the fight happened exactly one week later.

You’d been thinking about it for days — the way Jake dropped everything the second you needed him, the way he seemed happier when you relied on him, the way his eyes lit up every time you called. It felt beautiful… but it also felt heavy. Like you were becoming too dependent. Like he was carrying more than he should.

So you made a decision.

You were going to start standing on your own.

It started small.

You told him you’d take the bus to morning class instead of calling him. Then you walked to the library after dinner instead of texting him for a ride. Each time, Jake offered immediately, voice bright and warm like always.

“I can come get you. It’s no problem.”

But you turned him down gently.

“I need to start doing things on my own more,” you explained one evening over the phone. “I don’t want to keep relying on you for everything. It’s not fair to you.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“…Okay,” Jake said, trying to sound casual. “If that’s what you want.”

But his voice was quieter than usual.

The tension built slowly over three days.

Jake still texted. Still checked in. Still sent good morning messages with little hearts. But something was off. His replies were shorter. He didn’t show up at your usual spots. The passenger seat stayed empty.

On the fourth day, you decided to test it.

You had a late study session at the library. Instead of calling Jake, you told him you’d walk back. It was only a twenty-minute walk. You thought it would be fine.

It wasn’t.

Jake showed up anyway.

He was waiting outside the library when you walked out, leaning against his SUV in the rain, arms crossed. His hair was wet, hoodie soaked, but he didn’t seem to care. The moment he saw you, something cracked in his expression.

“You walked?” he asked, voice tight.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to smile. “I told you I would.”

He stared at you for a long moment, jaw clenched.

Then he opened the passenger door.

“Get in.”

“Jake, I’m fine—”

“Get in the car.”

The command was soft but edged with something raw. You climbed in, heart pounding. The second you closed the door, Jake got in the driver’s seat and gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

Silence filled the car.

He didn’t drive.

“Why are you doing this?” he finally asked, voice low and strained. “Why are you suddenly pushing me away?”

“I’m not pushing you away,” you said gently. “I’m trying to give you space. I don’t want to be a burden—”

“You’re not a burden,” he cut in, voice cracking. “You’ve never been a burden. I like driving you. I like being the one you call. I like knowing you need me.”

He turned to look at you, eyes glassy and desperate.

“What if you stop needing me?” he whispered. “What if you learn to do everything on your own and realize you don’t need me anymore? What if I become… optional?”

The raw fear in his voice broke your heart.

“Jake…”

“I know it’s selfish,” he continued, voice trembling. “I know I should want you to be independent. But the thought of you not calling me… of you not sitting in that seat… it terrifies me. Because this car, these drives, they’re the best part of my day. You’re the best part of my day.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks.

“I’m scared that if you stop relying on me, you’ll realize you can live without me. And I don’t know how to live without you anymore.”

The confession hung heavy in the car, rain pounding on the roof.

You reached over and took his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline.

“You’re not optional,” you said softly. “Not to me. But I don’t want our relationship to be built on me needing rides. I want it to be built on wanting each other.”

Jake let out a shaky breath and pulled you across the console into his arms, burying his face in your neck.

“I want you,” he whispered, voice muffled. “I want you so much it scares me.”

You held him tightly as he trembled.

The fight didn’t end with a perfect resolution.

But it ended with honesty.

And that was enough for now.

Jake had been quieter than usual — still texting, still checking in, but the golden retriever energy was dimmed. He didn’t push to drive you everywhere. He didn’t show up unannounced. He was giving you the space you asked for.

It was driving him crazy.

On the third night, he couldn’t take it anymore.

At 11:47 p.m., your phone buzzed.

jakey jakey

I’m outside. Can we talk?

You went down in your hoodie and sweats. Jake was leaning against his SUV, hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically nervous. The moment he saw you, his eyes softened.

“Hi, princess,” he said softly.

You walked straight into his arms. He hugged you tightly, burying his face in your hair like he’d been waiting years for permission.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I’ve been too much. I know I got jealous and clingy and acted like an idiot. But I can’t pretend anymore.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glassy under the streetlights.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, voice raw and certain. “Not as your best friend. Not as your driver. As me. I’ve been in love with you for months. Every drive, every late night, every time you fell asleep on my shoulder… I fell a little harder. I don’t just want to take care of you. I want to be with you. All the time. Messy and real and mine.”

Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he kept going.

“I know I’m still going to be annoying. I’m still going to steal your fries and pout when you study too long and get jealous when other people sit in my seat. But I promise I’ll try to be better. I just… I need you to know that this isn’t casual for me. It never was.”

You cupped his face, thumbs brushing away his tears.

“I’m in love with you too, Jake,” you whispered. “The drives, the forehead kisses, the way you show up even when I don’t ask… I love all of it. I love you.”

His breath hitched. Then he was kissing you — deep, desperate, full of months of longing and relief. He lifted you effortlessly, pressing you against the side of his car as rain started falling again, neither of you caring.

That night, you didn’t make it to your dorm.

You ended up in the backseat, windows fogged up, rain pouring down as Jake made love to you slow and deep. His hands worshipped every inch of you. His whispers were full of “I love you” and “you’re mine” and “don’t ever stop needing me.”

You switched positions, riding him while he looked up at you like you were his whole world. When you both came, he held you close, still buried inside you, pressing soft kisses to your face as you trembled in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, the same words he’d said since that first rainy night. “Always.”

-----

Three months later, the passenger seat officially had your name on it.

Jake had stuck a little handmade sign on the dashboard that read “Passenger Princess Only” in his messy handwriting. He still drove you everywhere, but now it was different — kisses at red lights, his hand on your thigh as a comfort instead of possessiveness, late-night drives where you talked about everything and nothing.

Your friends had stopped teasing. They just smiled knowingly whenever they saw Jake waiting for you with that bright, lovesick grin.

One evening, after a long day, you climbed into the car and immediately leaned over to kiss him.

“Hi, princess,” he murmured against your lips, smiling that golden smile you fell in love with.

“Hi, my favorite driver.”

He laughed, bright and warm, and started the car.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, hand finding yours on the center console like always, he glanced over at you with soft eyes.

“You know I’m never letting anyone else sit here, right?”

You squeezed his hand.

“Good. Because I’m never sitting anywhere else.”

Jake’s smile widened as he brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “My passenger princess.”

And as the city lights blurred past the windows, rain starting to fall softly on the roof once again, you realized something beautiful:

Some habits weren’t meant to be broken.

In the van taking them to their dorm, Jake's stomach had been crying out for food for several minutes, growling in the silence of the vehicle. He let his head fall against the window, complaining.

"Can't we stop to buy something to eat?"

"We'll be home in ten minutes, you can wait," Jay said.

"I'm literally dying of hunger!" He sighed and let his eyes scan the scenery, suddenly sitting up when he saw a shop still open despite the late hour. "That bakery is still open! Can we go for five minutes?"

"Hyung, we're almost there," Jungwon sighed.

"I'll pay!" His members turned to him, then exchanged glances. If he was paying, then why not. Jake rolled his eyes when they agreed, muttering under his breath that they only thought about money.

The driver stopped along the sidewalk, and the idols got out, not bothering to wear masks since it was past midnight. The neon sign of the "Sweet Pastry" bakery glowed pink in the darkness of the night.

Heeseung pushed the door open, a small bell rang as they entered. The shop was empty except for two men at a table in the corner and a woman at the counter facing the window. They bowed politely before stepping up to the counter, eyeing all the pastries still on sale. Cakes, donuts, cupcakes, all kinds of tastes and colors for every palate.

"Okay, now I'm hungry too," Ni-ki said, a hand on his stomach.

The kitchen door opened, and a young woman approached, smiling, walking around them to stand behind the cash register. An apron was tied around her waist, and her hair was tied in a low bun. "Hi! Welcome to Sweet Pastry! What can I get for you?"

"You have a lot of choices," Sunoo smiled. "The decorations on the cakes are beautiful!"

"Thank you very much! We have gluten-free and dairy-free cakes if you have allergies. I'll leave you a few moments to make your choice?" Jay thanked her with a smile, and Y/N turned to the counter behind her to fill two coffee cups, grabbing a cardboard box from a cupboard to place several pastries inside.

The two men took advantage of the boys making their choices to get up and come to the register. "Y/N-nie, thanks for the coffee."

"It's always a pleasure to see my regulars," she smiled, taking the bill the man handed her. "Two coffees and some sweets, on the house."

"You're adorable," the second man smiled.

"Same time next week?" They nodded, and she handed them the coffees and cakes. "Have a good trip!" They thanked her and walked away, leaving the shop.

"You're open late for a bakery," Sunghoon remarked, looking at the donuts.

"Indeed, but I also open later in the morning. I prefer to work late to prepare for the next day rather than wake up early. And my employees prefer it too," Y/N chuckled. "Besides, it helps those who have late-night cravings. Like you."

"Just Jake hyung who was throwing a fit because he was hungry, so we had to stop," Ni-ki teased.

Jake elbowed him, blushing slightly when Y/N gave him an amused smile but invited him to choose what he wanted. She grabbed a box and tongs to pick up the pastries they chose, then a second box which she filled just as much.

"If Engenes knew about this bakery, I'm sure they'd clean it out," Jay joked.

"Engenes?" the baker asked, tapping on her tablet.

"We're idols," Jake explained, Jungwon hit him on the arm for revealing too much.

"I see," Y/N smiled. "We've been here for just over a year, and business is going very well, but I'm sure more customers would be just as beneficial, we…"

She stopped when the kitchen door opened again and one of her apprentices came out, apparently to clean as if he hadn't heard the new customers. That was probably due to the headphones and the music blasting in his ears.

"Leo! We still have customers, put that mop away!" Y/N shouted. But the apprentice remained unfazed, washing the floor without hearing his boss.

Her mouth opened in shock when he started dancing and singing in a completely scratchy voice. "You're here, there's nothing I fear! And I know that my heart will go on!"

He spread his arms as if he were Rose and Jack was standing behind him, his back to them, and therefore hadn't seen that he had an audience. "We'll stay forever this way! You are safe in my heart and my heart will go on and on!"

He finally turned around, freezing completely when he saw his boss staring at him, mouth agape and eyes wide, the seven customers visibly holding back laughter. He grabbed his mop as if it had personally offended him and ran into the kitchen.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, breathing deeply. "Calm down, Y/N. Breathe. Why hire young people, right? Because you have to give them a chance. You're a good boss, he's just weird with good musical taste."

The woman stood up laughing, approaching to pay for her meal. "Nice one you've got there, Y/N. I'll definitely come back to see the rest of the concert."

"Please, don't." She laughed as she left the shop, and Y/N gave an embarrassed smile to the idols. "If you want to promote my shop, don't mention that."

"I promise nothing," Sunoo giggled.

"Here for you." She handed them the bags containing their order, and Heeseung frowned as he counted them.

"We only took two boxes, why are there three?"

"Oh, those are some leftovers. They're free. My treat, I'm sure you need some comfort."

"Thanks, that's really sweet," Jungwon smiled. "Hyung, we'll let you pay!"

Having seen how Jake had looked at the young woman since his arrival, the leader didn't hesitate to abandon him to his fate and dragged his members to the van. Jake took out his card to pay, licking his lips as he hesitated to talk to her.

"Good day, right?" Y/N gave him an amused look but nodded.

"It was quite busy indeed, but we sleep better at night that way."

"Yes, right. I'm Jake, by the way."

"I guess," she smiled. "Well, if you have another late-night craving, my shop will always be open for you, Jake." He smiled at her and wished her a good evening before leaving. Y/N smiled as she closed the register for the night, looking up to see that Jake had left his phone on the counter in his haste.

She grabbed it, running around the counter to get out of the shop, sighing when she saw the van driving away at the end of the street. She put the phone in her apron pocket, then went to close the shop, going to give her original-musical-taste apprentice a piece of her mind.

Jake spent the evening looking for his phone, thinking he had left it at the agency, only to find it nowhere once he arrived at the company. His members had tried calling his number, but the phone didn't ring in their area, so it was impossible to follow the ringtone.

He was in despair, thinking that a sasaeng might have found it and that his entire private life was ruined. That evening, Jungwon's phone rang, and he frowned. "Hyung, why is your phone calling me?"

Jake looked up from the TV, seeing that his number was calling the leader. God, someone must have picked up his phone! "Hello?" Jungwon answered.

"Hello, is this Jungwon?" a female voice replied.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Oh, great! Hi, it's Y/N from Sweet Pastry! Jake forgot his phone yesterday after paying. I hope it wasn't me who scared him so much that he forgot his phone."

"Y/N, hi! It's reassuring to know that you have his phone. And I'm sure you're not scary, he's just scatterbrained." The leader threw a sideways glance at Jake, who was massaging his neck.

"Sorry I didn't call earlier, but I've been swamped all day. I'm just closing the shop, can I drop the phone off to you?"

"Yes, that would be amazing, thank you so much. The dorm location is already saved in Jake's phone. Thanks again."

Jungwon hung up and came to hit Jake on the shoulder. "Ouch!"

"You're an idiot, hyung! You were too busy making eyes at her to see that you'd left your phone there!"

"I wasn't making eyes at her!"

"Yeah, right, and Heeseung hyung isn't the freakiest among us." Heeseung raised his hands, not wanting to be dragged into this. Jake apologized and promised it wouldn't happen again.

It took barely an hour for Yuki to alert them that Y/N was downstairs and that he was going to get her. He had forced them to tidy up the dorm minimally so they wouldn't come across as slobs. "Good evening!"

"Y/N-nie, thank you so much for coming!" Sunoo smiled, coming to greet her.

"It's nothing. Your dorm was on my way anyway." She turned to Jake, who was wiping his hands on his sweatpants before approaching.

"Hi, sorry for all the trouble."

"Don't worry about it," Y/N smiled. "It's better that I found your phone rather than a fan, right ?"

"Yeah…" He grabbed his phone, which she handed him, and raised his eyebrows when she held up a small box. "What's that?"

"I thought I'd bring you something in case you needed a snack. New recipe, you tell me what you think." Y/N handed him the box, then bowed to the rest of the group before leaving so as not to bother them further.

Jake looked down at his phone, then at the box where he could see four cupcakes with chocolate golden retriever ears, and his lips stretched into a smile. "Aww, hyung has a girlfriend!" Ni-ki cooed.

"Shut up!"

"That's cute," Sunghoon chuckled. "And the good thing is that if you get married, you won't have to look for a baker for the wedding cake since Y/N will already be there."

He ran and locked himself in his room under their burst of laughter, tossing his phone onto his bed before sitting at his desk. He delicately opened the box lid and grabbed one of the cupcakes to bite into it.

A delicious flavor of caramel and vanilla spread over his taste buds, and he closed his eyes in appreciation, unable to wait for the next opportunity to see Y/N again.

In the following weeks, Y/N wasn't surprised to see Jake stop by the shop from time to time, mostly in the evenings and even just before closing. He always bought several cakes, starting to have his favorites, and always asked to taste the new recipes. She appreciated seeing that he was taking more and more initiative with each visit.

One evening, Y/N was about to close the shop early due to the heavy rain that had been falling since lunch when she saw Jake arriving in the distance. She left the door open to welcome him before locking it behind him.

Water droplets dripped from his hair, pushing it back as he ran a hand through his locks. "You're here early."

"Is this a problem?"

"No," she smiled. "I'm closing early because of the downpour."

Jake followed her to the back of the shop, Y/N handed him a clean towel so he could dry himself off as much as possible to avoid catching a cold. "You can go wait for me in my office? I need to release my two slaves from the kitchen." The idol smiled, thinking of the apprentices, and headed toward the door she had pointed to.

He entered the boss's office, enjoying the warmth of the room and the sweet smell of cake that lingered there. He ran the towel over his hair to dry it, letting his gaze slide over the picture frames on the dresser. And his attention focused on a photo of Y/N with a young man, embraced in front of the shop.

"I see you've met my brother." Jake turned quickly to see Y/N entering the office, a plate of cupcakes in her hand. She set it down on the desk, then leaned against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was the day the bakery opened."

"You seem happy. Where is he?"

"He's studying in England, so he's not here often. Our parents died when we were children, so it's just the two of us."

"Sorry."

Y/N reassured him with a smile, then grabbed a cupcake to hold out to him. "New recipe, what do you think?"

Jake grabbed it with a smile and bit into the cake with pleasure, letting the frosting spread over his lips. The rich chocolate flavor and the raspberry filling made him let out an indecent sound. He ran his tongue over his lips to lick the frosting, drawing Y/N's gaze.

He set the rest of the cupcake down on the plate, drying his hands on the towel. The idol was about to congratulate her again when she reached out toward him, her fingers brushing the corner of his mouth as her thumb wiped away some remaining frosting.

"Sorry, you had a little…" Jake remained frozen at her gesture as she pulled back, bringing her thumb to her lips to clean the frosting that had come from her own mouth.

The young man slowly approached, closing the distance between them, and pressed his hands on the desk on either side of her body. Y/N had to look up to see him properly, plunging her gaze into his.

"You…" She cleared her throat. "You haven't told me what you think of the cake."

"That's so good. I'll never get tired of it. I don't think I ever can." She gave a small nod, signaling that she was taking his feedback. "Do I still have frosting on my lips?"

"What?"

"You keep staring at them. Maybe you want to use something other than your thumb to remove it."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're such a…"

But Jake cut her off, taking possession of her lips in a passionate kiss. Y/N unconsciously parted her legs to let him slip between them, her arms wrapping around his neck. Her fingers slipped into his still-damp locks, tugging slightly, which provoked a groan from Jake through their kiss.

His hands roamed over her body with desire, sliding from her skirt to the underline of her chest covered by her top. Jake didn't even pull back to catch his breath, his only appetite was for Y/N and only her. Oxygen could wait.

"Jake," she gasped, pulling back to breathe.

"Sorry," he mumbled, already off exploring her neck. "Can't stop. You're so… sweet." She felt his tongue travel over her throat, tasting the hints of her perfume. "I'm always hungry for your cakes. But I'm also hungry for you."

Y/N moaned when she felt something cold spread over her collarbone, Jake had grabbed some frosting to spread on her skin and then lick it off. No matter how much force her fingers put on his hair, Jake immediately went back to attacking her throat, her skin, everything she could offer him.

"Jake." He finally pulled away from her, his lips swollen from his kisses and his pupils dilated.

"Sorry, baby, sorry."

"Maybe we can go to my place? I have more frosting there…" He cursed at her invitation, leaning his head down to remove the remaining frosting and nodded.

Jake has always had a sweet tooth for cakes. And now, Jake had a sweet tooth for Y/N.

Masterlist

in the next few weeks, jake realises you’re a very, very quiet neighbour. he had almost hoped you’d play loud music at night just so he had an excuse to bang on your door poetically at three o’clock in the morning. he’d almost wished you made obnoxiously obscene noises with whoever he assumed you brought home - he thinks, with a face like that, you couldn’t possibly be alone all the time.

he also realises that you’re painfully organised. on that first night, while taking out the trash, he noticed your colour coded and labelled move-in boxes, all neatly piled up in the recycling. that cancelled out his scenario of you having mixed up your laundry with his. preferably laundry of the undergarment variety.

in fact, jake barely sees you at all. in the mornings, as he’s dragging his half-asleep self to a lecture he’s already an hour late to, he’ll smell the remnants of your perfume drifting up the staircase. at night, maybe he’ll hear your door softly close, maybe he’ll occasionally see your worn crocs sitting outside the door.

but really, that’s it. to him, you’ve settled at the edges of his life without even knowing it.

until something shifts.

jake’s gaming one night, on call with his friends. he’s really supposed to be studying for his engineering midterms, but as usual, he’s procrastinating that. his friends aren’t talking about much, just being stupid, but then he hears your name.

“yo, let’s rank the girls in our stem foundations course,” sunghoon says. it’s already two am and clearly he’s not thinking straight. everyone joins in, nonetheless.

“what are we talking about here, personality, or looks?” heeseung asks.

“both, duh. i’ll go first. yunjin is objectively the hottest, but her personality is crap. hmm…isa is sweet, maybe a bit shy though.”

jay’s voice cuts through jake’s headset like a beacon. “what about y/n? she’s lowkey quiet though, not much to say. pretty average, if you ask me.”

the others all hum in agreement, continuing to slurp their ramyeon noisily in between moves.

jake, on the other hand, hates what jay said, and hates even more that he doesn’t know you well enough to prove him wrong.

his character dies in game and he quickly leaves the call, typing out a quick “finger slipped, gotta study now anyway.”

in reality, he’s busy plotting ways to get closer to you.

the next morning, you’re in your nine am lecture, stem foundations, ironically enough. you’ve picked your usual seat - in the middle, just to the right. it’s about halfway through the class, and you’re halfway through writing a sentence in your notes, when you feel someone drop down next to you.

“hi, mind if i sit?”

you start in surprise, dropping your pen on the desk with an embarrassingly loud clatter. jake is peering at you cheerfully, no trace of shame in his eyes for the mild scare he just caused you.

“oh, sure!” you pick up your pen quickly. “why are you so late, by the way?”

jake shrugs. “overslept.” but he’s mentally fist pumping the air as he watches you nod and turn back to your notes.

he can’t focus for the rest of the lecture. when you’re dismissed, you give him a quick wave as you link arms with a friend.

“see you around!” he sure hopes so.

————————————

in contrast to jake’s view of you, limited though it might be, you genuinely believe you’re as average as his friends think. if you had overheard that conversation, you probably wouldn’t even be hurt - you’d probably agree.

which is why you don’t notice the shift in jake’s behaviour, or your own, when he begins slipping between the cracks into your carefully constructed routine.

it’s a regular wednesday night, not late, maybe eight o’clock. you’ve just showered after finishing up your shift at a nearby cafe. you’re comfortable - why wouldn’t you be? you enjoy a party as much as the next girl, but midterms are coming up, it’s midweek, and you’re just so, so, tired. and you definitely didn’t expect to be seeing anyone anyway.

you’re in your favourite pyjamas, a cute matching set from brandy with little flowers on it, braless - you weren’t about to put one back on after the nightmare shift you just had. you’ve switched out your contacts for glasses since your eyes were getting dry, and your hair is still damp from the everything shower you just took.

life is good. except for the fact that you’ve been hunched over your desk for the better part of two hours now, attempting to study.

you’re just about to give up and make some ramen when you hear a knock at your door. you quickly throw on a hoodie, check your reflection and open the door to see jake. with two bags of popcorn in his hand and a very, very, sheepish grin on his face.

you immediately experience emotional whiplash in the span of approximately two milliseconds.

firstly, you’re shocked. you and jake have spoken maybe…three, four times? nothing more than polite smiles and half-greetings on the stairs, the occasional “sorry” if you bump into him going in or out of the laundry room. and when he sat next to you in the lecture last week. but that barely counts.

secondly, you’re mildly irritated. at him, for interrupting your imminent bedrotting - you definitely couldn’t have kept up studying for much longer - and at yourself. because completely unbeknownst to him, and sometimes even to you when you try to deny it that little bit harder, you are a hopeless romantic.

hopeless in the way that if a guy so much as looks your way, your ego immediately believes he’s in love with you. hopeless, in that you honestly believe no-one ever could love you. hopeless, in that you don’t even want to know how many romance tv shows or movies you’ve watched, how many smutty books you’ve read at three in the morning, or how many times you’ve compared your birth chart and MBTI to your favourite celebrities.

thirdly - and you’re grasping at straws here - you think this may be your entrance into romance.

you snap yourself out of your mental whirlwind and attempt to gracefully smile at jake. “what are you doing here?” you ask. though it’s pretty obvious.

jake holds up the bags of popcorn. “uh…movie night?” he doesn’t sound sure that’s what he’s here for. actually, he’s not even sure what possessed him to think of this. but he’s here now - may as well commit to the bit, right?

“i was just studying,” you turn back to your abandoned desk, “or trying to.” you grimace. “it wasn’t working very well, so,” you gesture at him to come in, “be my guest.”

jake steps through the doorway into your room, and he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. it’s identical to his, but it smells like a mix of your perfume and fresh laundry. a jasmine candle is burning in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. your bed is neatly made with gingham linen, so unmistakably you that his heart is already beginning to stutter embarrassingly.

“nice place,” he nods approvingly.

you laugh. “jake, it’s exactly the same as your room. i haven’t even changed the layout,” you say. “so, movie night, right? honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” you sigh out, “i was going to bedrot alone, but it’s probably more fun with someone else.”

it’s a testament to jake’s willpower that he doesn’t bust in his pants right there and then like a teenager just from the way you say his name.

“did you pick something already?” you sit down on your bed and pat the space next to you. “come sit, there’s plenty of room.”

okay, you think, you may be coming on a little strong. in reality, you’re so nervous you think you’re about to have anxious diarrhoea.

“yeah, i mean, what genre do you like? i’ve got choices,” jake offers.

“anything is fine - oh!” you peer at the screen. “10 things i hate about you? i love that movie! let’s watch that.” you look at jake, who mentally checked out about thirty seconds ago when his back came into contact with your pillow.

he shakes himself out of his trance. “oh, uh, sure, yeah, sounds good.” he practically pushes the bag of popcorn into your hands in an attempt to distract himself from the way your shampoo smells. which is a little too good for his sanity at the present moment.

you press play on the movie and settle back against the pillow, shifting a little closer to jake without realising it.

————————————————

twenty minutes in, jake thinks he’s about to lose his mind. he’s not watching, not really. he’s hyper aware of every brush of your thigh against his, of the warmth he can feel radiating off your body. he accidentally looks down and almost drools when he sees the way your shorts ride up every time you move slightly.

he’s so far gone it’s not funny. and he doesn’t even know your major, or name of your childhood pet, or your favourite colour.

little does he know, you’re just as far gone as he is.

the female ovulation is a powerful thing, and you’re pretty sure you just hit the peak. embarrassingly enough, at the ripe age of twenty, you’re still a virgin. not even just that - you’ve never even held hands with a guy. your friends can’t understand why. you’re decently extroverted, go out enough to parties to have the chance to hook up with someone, dress cute daily. but somehow, you’ve already managed to make it through two years of college celibacy, and you don’t see that changing anytime soon.

luckily, you’ll never be one of those girls who can’t get themselves to the end. you inwardly sigh, knowing you’ll have to take care of matters yourself once jake leaves. you’re not obscene about it - maybe once a week, twice if you’re stressed. but it’s necessary, right? no one could blame you for taking things into your own hands, if there wasn’t anyone to help.

you don’t even know jake. this is what your mind keeps screaming at you every five seconds. but when you glance down at his hands, your brain legitimately short circuits as you see them fidgeting. he’s so good looking you kind of want to scream. your traitorous, traitorous heart thinks maybe he might’ve come here because he likes you. but, your mind knows better. this is the pattern you predictably fall into, and you’re too scared to do anything about it anyway.

unfortunately, you believe that jake was probably just bored and needed someone to bother, and that someone happened to be you, out of convenience. nothing more.

—————————————————

by the time the movie ends, neither of you are watching anymore. actually, neither of you have been focusing for quite a while. at least not on the movie.

“can i get your number?” you blurt out as the credits roll. “i mean, this was fun, right? nice not to be alone all the time.”

jake’s heart kicks up again. he cannot believe that his extremely stupid idea to barge in on your peaceful weeknight has turned into something he never dreamed of. your number will be in his phone. “oh, sure,” he says. “here, put yours in.” he hands you his phone and you type your number in, sending him a quick “hi!” so he can save it.

you give him the phone back, standing up from your position on the bed. “we should do this again sometime!” you say, platonically. well, not really, but jake takes the (nervous) lightness in your tone as a very non-flirtatious way of saying “you can bother me again but you’ll never get into my pants.”

he pulls himself together, standing up as well and pulling your door open. “that would be nice,” he mumbles out. nice, jake, nice. he feels his cheeks reddening as you smile at him and nod, waving him goodbye.

you sigh and flop down on your bed as he leaves. you can still feel him in your room, the scent of his laundry detergent and something a little muskier underneath. you can still feel his warmth on your pillow.

you’re so, so gone for this man. but you shake yourself. friendship first, you think.

————————————————-

from then on, jake becomes a permanent feature in your life. turns out his best friend, heeseung, went to high school with one of your close friends. you were made aware of this information over coffee one morning, said friend chaewon practically half out of her chair with second hand excitement at your imminent romance. even if you didn’t know it yet, she had an inkling - “fate,” she called it, that you and jake would eventually cross that (to you) very defined line between friendship and something more interesting.

your friend group goes to shared movie nights with his friends, which inevitably end with you and jake leaving together to walk back to your respective dorm rooms. the administration still hasn’t fixed your room allocation, so you’re stuck next to him for the time being.

not that you mind it much.

it’s on these late-night walks that you find yourself being drawn to jake in a way that far surpasses your little infatuation with his hands. which you still have, by the way, but you’ve deepened your view of him now, thank you very much.

often, you play a silly game like truth or truth, since neither of you are game enough to do a dare, or twenty questions. with both of your tongues loosened by alcohol, you’re both a little bolder, more open with each other.

you learn that he only picked engineering because his parents thought it was the most sustainable thing to do. “i always wanted to be a music producer, you know, writing songs. but in this economy,” he shrugs, i didn’t exactly have a choice.”

you hum in sympathy. “have you written anything?” you’re genuinely interested. you’ve always loved music, both listening to it and making it, having played piano a little as a child.

he nods, but doesn’t offer anything. you’ve learnt that jake is a very private person, too. you don’t mind, though - you are too.

this is part of what he likes so much about you.

he learns that you’re scared of loneliness, failure and thunderstorms. your major is psychology, but you tend to know other people better than you know yourself.

you reveal, with great difficulty, that you can’t easily talk about your feelings. “i’m usually one to just bottle it up and try to move on,” you slur slightly one night. “why do you feel so easy to talk to?” you look up at him, blinking slowly.

he sighs. “i think we’re more similar than we look,” he says. “maybe we don’t need to say anything to understand each other.”

along with the movie nights, your friends go to clubs, where you and jake both awkwardly gawk at each other as unnoticeably as possible. the sight of your slight cleavage (which took a very good push-up bra to achieve) makes his mouth go dry. the sight of his forearms when he has his sleeves rolled up genuinely gives you goosebumps.

and neither of you have any inkling of what the other is feeling.

you meet up outside of your friend groups, too. it’s a natural shift, something that simply comes with spending enough time with each other that it feels like something normal and irreplaceable. most weeknights, you’re sprawled on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through tiktok, while he games with his friends. or he’s building lego on your floor while you attempt to study. usually, though, it ends up with him joining your scrolling session or you giving up entirely on your study, helping him with lego instead. you have a little collection, now, of lego flowers he bought, a car, and he has the tardis from doctor who on a shelf in his room.

one night, you’re on his bed, trying to finish watching a lecture you missed the other week, when your eyes begin to droop.

“jake,” you say, trying to get his attention, “don’t let me fall asleep. i really have to finish this…” you trail off as you notice how absorbed he is in his game. “jake!’ you kick his chair.

“what?” he tugs his headset down. “bro, just sleep, it’s so late. i’ll be off in five anyway.”

you fall asleep on his bed for the first time that night. when jake ends the call with his friends, he sees you curled up, your back to him. it’s around one in the morning. he doesn’t know the code to your room - or maybe he does, and his brain is just conveniently forgetting it in this moment. scrubbing a hand over his face, he goes to brush his teeth and wash his face.

when he comes back, you’ve moved. your whole body is now under his blankets, taking up the entire bed. he considers waking you up, but he’s had the displeasure of interacting with you in the morning before a nine o’clock lecture, and he doesn’t want to experience that. preferably ever again.

jake sighs. you’re just friends. friends can sleep in the same bed, right? he knows you don’t feel the same. it’s completely platonic, whatever is going on between the two of you, so he puts his reservations aside (not that there were many, he’s just trying to be respectful) and climbs in next to you.

—————————————————

two hours later, jake can’t sleep. you’ve slung your arm around his chest and you’ve got your head buried in the crook of his neck, fast asleep. he recalls seeing a few too many pillows on your bed and realises you’re probably used to hugging something in your sleep. but why did it have to be him? you’re so warm, he can smell your shampoo as your hair tickles his nose, and the soft rise and fall of your chest against his is making him embarrassingly hard.

one sheep, two sheep, he counts, focusing hard. he tries to celebrate the fact that he has you in his bed! although for all the wrong reasons.

eventually. he drifts off, arms coming up unconsciously to hug you back.

—————————————————

you wake up first, as usual. on sleepovers as a kid, you’d always lie awake for hours before your friends got up. you’re a very picky sleeper. you can’t nap, can’t even fall asleep on a car or a plane. you have to be in your own bed, alone, in complete darkness.

so how on earth, you think, did you manage to fall asleep on jake sim’s bed? he’s still asleep, evenly breathing. and so, so pretty in the morning light. heat rushes to your face as you register how close the two of you are. your legs are tangled, your arms are around each other’s waists, and you’re lying on his shoulder. having drooled onto his collarbone slightly.

you have never been this close to a guy in your life. and it scares you how safe you must’ve felt in his presence to sleep so well.

a few minutes later, jake’s eyes crack open a little bit. you abruptly tear your gaze away from his face, but he’s awake, and he feels your heart pick up against his side. “hi,” he says, voice rough from sleep.

you clear your throat. “hi,” you say back, looking up at him. “sorry, i did not mean to fall asleep here. you should’ve woken me up!”

jake laughs and extricates himself from your hold. “nah, i didn’t think it was worth how angry you’d be if i did. plus, we were pretty comfy, weren’t we?” he sounds smooth, but his heart is hammering. he thinks he might have to put this at the top of his list of ‘best experiences’ so far.

he swings his legs over the side of the bed. “you want breakfast? i have…” he goes to the cupboard, “cocoa pops and cornflakes.” he holds then up proudly.

“cocoa pops please!” you say as your bladder makes itself known. “i gotta pee though, be right back.” you head to the bathroom, heart pounding almost as fast as jake’s.

when you come back, he’s got two bowls of cocoa pops sitting on his desk. the curtains are open, and the sun is hitting his face at an angle that makes him look like he came straight out of a disney movie. you’re suddenly aware of how unkempt you must look. your hair is messy, there’s definitely dried sleep in your eyes, and your breath definitely smells like a sewer. but you sit down on his bed anyway.

“you’ve got a free day today, right?” jake asks as you shovel cereal into your mouth.

“yeah, nothing on today,” you shrug. “why?”

jake looks momentarily startled, like he didn’t expect you to say that. “oh, it’s just, there’s the campus football game today, and i was wondering if you wanted to come? i mean, you don’t have to, you’ve probably got stuff to do, but i just thought—”

“you’re playing, aren’t you?” you cut him off, a growing smile on your face.

“yeah, i—”

“heeseung told me you were in this one! i’ll come, i’ve really got nothing better to do. what time is it at? do you have a spare jersey? i’ll wear it if you want!” you know you sound much too excited for just a soccer game, but you don’t care. you genuinely like jake as a friend, and the secret other option that you’re still denying, so you want to support him.

jake looks extremely shocked. “you’ll…come watch? you’ll wear my jersey?” his voices pitches higher as it rises in incredulity.

“yeah, is that a problem? i mean, it’s not just a romantic thing, right?” you feel your cheeks warming as you almost touch on that forbidden subject that you keep on denying.

“no, i mean, sure, i’ll give it to you now, if you want,” jake gets up and fishes the jersey out of his wardrobe. “it’s decently clean, i think, here,” he says, giving it to you. “the game’s at eleven, do you…want to get lunch after?”

you laugh, a teasing edge making its way into your voice as you say, “wow, breakfast and lunch together? sounds like you can’t get enough of my amazing company, jakey.”

jake’s brain promptly short circuits. jakey? really?

you’re unfazed. “i’m just kidding. it’s fun hanging out with you,” you say, nudging him lightly on the arm. “it’s also already eight am,” you sigh. “i’m going back to my room, so i’ll see you later! thanks for the breakfast, and the bed, and your human pillow services, and—” you stop yourself before you ramble on any more. jake looks faintly amused, which only embarrasses you all the more.

“no problem, pillow princess,” he says before he can stop himself. your face rapidly undergoes about five different facial expressions before it decides to settle on a mixture of surprised and incredulous, lips twitching like you really want to smile but need to control yourself as much as possible.

“okay…? i’m gonna go now, jake. i’ll see you at the game,” you say firmly, reining in your laugh, as you leave his room.

jake wants to punch himself in the face. what on earth possessed him to say that? not only has he just discovered you definitely don’t like him romantically, he just said something filled with so much innuendo he thinks he might cry.

————————————-

later on that day, you’re stupidly nervous about going to jake’s game. it shouldn’t be a big deal - you’ve been friends for nearly three months, sharing food, memes at two in the morning, deep (ish) conversations, and now a bed.

but you can’t stop overanalysing yourself. you’ve put on jake’s jersey. it hangs slightly too big on you, but not dwarfing you like you think it should. you’re not that much shorter than jake anyway, maybe ten centimetres maximum. though you think he might be lying about his height anyway, which would make it less.

you pick at a loose thread as you stand in front of the mirror. you’d put on some light makeup and styled your bangs, but you feel like a pig in lipstick. in this lighting, it feels like you can see every pore on your nose, every crease in your concealer, every tiny clump of mascara. you sigh, leaning forward to clean up the edges of your lip gloss.

it’s stupid, and very irritating, how insecure you’ve always been. it’s not like you really had too much to be insecure about according to society’s standards. but, you see what feels like hundreds of things to nitpick anyway. your hair reacts badly to humidity, gets oily too quickly.

your teeth aren’t quite white enough for your liking, your tits are too small, you get a million ingrown hairs every time you try to shave. the skin tone in your underarms is so uneven you try to avoid lifting your arms up at all. you feel like you’re both too skinny and too chubby at the same time, not curvy in the right places.

sometimes you think you analyse your face so much you don’t even know what you look like anymore.

you tug at jake’s jersey one more time, trying to make it sit a little better. it doesn’t work. with a final check in the mirror, you head out of your room down to the football field.

the football field is thrumming already. loud music plays from an unseen speaker. you search for chaewon in the crowd - she’s here to watch heeseung, of course. you spot her and walk over.

“chaewon!” you say, greeting her. “i have so much to tell you, oh my goodness. you’ll never believe what ha—”

“did you fuck?” she asks, to the point.

“what—no?” you exclaim in disbelief. “i—chaewon, if that had happened, i would’ve facetimed you straight after to give you the details. no, i just fell asleep in jake’s bed.”

chaewon looks unimpressed. “and now you’re wearing his jersey. to his soccer game. that’s fucking-adjacent,” she shrugs. “do tell me when you both stop denying what’s right in front of you.”

it’s your turn to look unimpressed. “chae, we’re just friends. yes, he’s attractive, but we both know i fall too fast. i’m trying very hard to not let that happen this time.” you turn your eyes back to the field.

the players jog out, the whistle blows. it’s a blur of footwork and yelling to you. you’ve never been too interested in sports, you watch the olympics when they’re on, but that’s about it. but now you’ve never been so fascinated in your life.

jake moves with an ease that you’ve never seen before. with you, he’s comfortable, but there always seems to be a slight restraint, hesitance about him.

here, he’s in control. he moves fast, passing the ball to others, knowing when to keep it to himself. he’s a good team player, you think.

you watch him ease the ball down the field, getting closer to the goal. the cheers from the crowd intensify, and you feel yourself hover slightly out of your seat, fists clenched in anticipation.

he scores. the audience goes wild. his teammates jump on him, hugging him, ruffling his hair. but then he breaks apart from them.

and finds you in the crowd. you meet his eyes, giving him a big thumbs up and grinning from ear to ear. “go jakey!” he sees you mouthing.

contrary to what you think of yourself, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight.

to him, the flyaways and frizz in your hair only make you look better. your eyes are so bright, curving into crescents as you smile. unlike you, he’s not thinking about the shade of your teeth, or the bump in your nose, or the way your ears stick out a little bit from your head.

to him, you’re dazzling. you look so genuinely happy for him, it’s like time has stopped. he doesn’t even care if he never scores another goal, if he gets to witness this moment over and over again.

disregarding his teammates, he pushes his way into the fourth row, where you’re sitting with chaewon.

“hey,” he pants. “do you have any water?”

“do you have any water?” you mock in a fake-nonchalant tone. “jake, you were amazing! i saw you score, oh my god, i had no idea you could play like that!” you hand him your water bottle. “here, you look like you need it,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

in truth, he looks disgustingly good right now. you didn’t think that he could look any better than he already did, but turns out sweat just adds something. your thighs clench together involuntarily as he takes a long swig from your water bottle, exposing every movement of his adam’s apple as he tilts his head back.

chaewon nudges you. “girl, stop staring. you’re practically drooling,” she whispers.

you shake yourself out of your stupor. “so, lunch, right? you have to clean up first, though, right…” you trail off, your mind having conjured up a very unhelpful image of jake in the shower.

“uh, yeah, just give me ten. meet at the front? i know a place we can go to.” jake hands you back your water bottle and walks over to his teammates, who are already heading to the locker room.

you are so down bad for this man you think you might actually lose the plot.

and jake thinks he might be one glimpse of your thighs away from a brain aneurysm.

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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How cruel of the world and the angels of sex to make you a horny yearner who wouldn't confess even if alien spaceships landed on earth.

How cruel of Park Sunghoon to invite you over for a sleepover at his house with the rest of the girls and their boyfriends. You really did wonder sometimes why your mothers forced you two to be friends in elementary school.

“Jake will be there.” Sunghoon had mentioned at the last fucking minute, tossing popcorn into his mouth and texting his girlfriend Yujin like he hadn’t just brought your entire world down. It was safe to say he was a dead man, only saved by Jungwon’s casual reminder that murder is a criminal offence.

Sim Jaeyun.

How could you even begin to explain all that beauty?

Well you probably couldn't, considering that you were already 10 minutes late to the sleepover. But hey that one cute skirt just had to disappear on the most important day of your life didn't it?

You were halfway up the driveway when you saw him. Of course you were, because the universe clearly had a sense of humor and apparently, it was obsessed with ruining your emotional stability.

Standing just a few steps ahead, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his hoodie, was Sim Jaeyun. He looked like he had just jogged up too—slightly out of breath, hair a little messy in that effortlessly perfect way that should honestly be illegal.

He noticed you at the exact same time. For a second, both of you just stared. God he was so fucking pretty—what you wouldn’t give to press kisses all over that gorgeous face.

“You’re late too?” he said, breaking into that easy, boyish grin that made your brain short-circuit.

You huffed out a laugh, clutching your bag tighter. “Just had a wardrobe crisis, you know. So technically, I’m fashionably late.”

What kind of a dad joke was that?

“Ah, of course,” he nodded seriously, stepping closer, grinning as always at your extremely bad attempt at humour. “My bad. I forgot I was in the presence of greatness.”

“Oh, please,” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “And what’s your excuse, Mr. I-woke-up-like-this?”

He shrugged. “I was on time. Then I thought…nah, let me give her a chance to not be the only late one.”

“Wow.” You snorted. “How considerate. Truly, a gentleman.”

“Always.” He said, softer this time, his gaze lingering just a second too long and your heart did that annoying thing again.

Great.

Perfect.

Love that for you.

Surely things couldn't get any worse, your pussy truly couldn't get any wetter. You both turned toward the door at the same time, reaching out simultaneously to ring the bell and your hands brushed.

And the pacific ocean lost to you in a ‘the wettest’ competition. 

It was warm in that stupid way that made your chest tighten and your thoughts scatter like someone had just shaken them up and thrown them into the air. You both froze, then immediately pulled back.

“Sorry,” you both said at the same time. A beat, and then you both laughed again, lighter this time, a little awkward.

“Go ahead,” he gestured.

“No, you—”

Before either of you could continue the world’s most unnecessary politeness battle, the door swung open. Park Sunghoon stood there, leaning against the frame, looking between the two of you with a slow, knowing smirk. How ever did this guy manage to pull the glowing goddess Yujin herself failed to get past your brain. 

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Look who decided to show up together.”

“We didn’t—” you started.

“It’s a coincidence,” Jake added quickly.

“Mmh, sure, very believable.” Sunghoon raised a brow. “Ten minutes late, both of you, same time, same place, totally not suspicious.”

From somewhere inside, Jungwon’s voice called out, “Are they still outside? Just let them in before they start a whole movie scene out there!”

Sunghoon stepped aside with a dramatic sigh. “Come in, you two. Try not to make it obvious.” 

“Make what obvious?” you snapped, walking past him a little too quickly. If Jaeyun wasn't there, it would have been the last day Sunghoon ever saw the sun.

Behind you, Jake chuckled under his breath and you were dangerously close to sleeping on the highway that night. 

The living room was a scene of cozy chaos, blanket forts under construction, a Mario Kart tournament in full swing on the massive TV, and the air smelling like greasy pizza. Your heart did a frantic tap-dance against your ribs and Jaeyun high-fived Heeseung and dropped down onto a corner of the largest sofa.

Jungwon, spotting you immediately from his throne of pillows, grinned like a cat. “The guest of honor arrives! We were about to send a search party. Or, you know, start the movie without you.” His words were a gentle tease, but your eyes weren't on him. 

Sim Jaeyun.

He was laughing at something Heeseung had just said, head thrown back, and the sight was a physical blow. The soft lamplight caught the curve of his lips, the elegant line of his throat as he swallowed his laughter. His hair was a mess of dark waves from what was probably an anxious pre-sleepover ruffle. He was, in a word, devastating.

You really needed to stop looking at him like that. Because every second your eyes lingered on Sim Jaeyun felt like willingly walking deeper into your own doom.

He laughed again and it did something awful to your insides. The kind of awful that made your chest ache and your thoughts go embarrassingly blank, like your entire personality had just packed its bags and left you alone with one single thought:

him.

“Hello? Earth to you?” A hand waved in front of your face.

You blinked, snapping out of it to find Jungwon watching you with poorly concealed amusement. “You good? Or did you just astral-project somewhere?”

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, maybe too quickly, dropping your bag onto a nearby chair. “Just tired.”

“Right.” He hummed, clearly not believing you. “Ten minutes late and already exhausted. Tough life.”

From the side, Heeseung snorted, eyes still on the TV. “She probably ran here. Look at her, out of breath and everything.”

“I am not out of breath,” you shot back, immediately becoming hyper-aware of your breathing.

“Relax.” Jungwon grinned, tossing you a pillow. “Come sit. We’re starting a new round.”

You caught it automatically, but your gaze betrayed you again, sliding right back to Jaeyun. He had shifted slightly, leaning forward now, elbows on his knees, controller loose in his hands. And for a split second he looked up.

Straight at you.

Your stomach dropped. There it was again—that quiet, impossible moment where everything else blurred at the edges. His eyes softened just a little, like he was about to say something, like he—

“Oi, Jake! Your turn!” Jungwon called, completely shattering whatever that was.

Jaeyun blinked, attention snapping back. “Ah—right.” You exhaled, only then realizing you’d been holding your breath.

Pathetic.

Absolutely pathetic.

“Sit here,” Jungwon nudged the space beside him.

You nodded, forcing your legs to cooperate, and settled down carefully, casually, like your heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of your chest.

Across from you, Jaeyun shifted again. And somehow—somehow—out of all the empty space in that crowded, chaotic, too-warm living room his knee brushed yours. It was light, an accident, but the way it had your brain cells combusting one would think he had just declared his love for you. Your entire body went still.

Don’t react.

Don’t you dare react.

You kept your eyes glued to the screen, even as your mind spiraled. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just cramped seating. Maybe—

His knee moved back. And then, a second later it bumped yours again. This time it was softer and you swore you’d seen him bite the corner of his lip from your peripheral vision. You swallowed.

This is fine. 

This is so fine.

______

The horror movie credits had long since rolled, replaced by the chaotic, colorful glow of a party game on the massive screen. Somewhere along the line—amidst the laughter, the shouted instructions and the gentle shifting of bodies, the geography of the blanket fort had changed.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how it happened—one minute everyone was arguing over teams, the next there was a reshuffling of people, a lot of “move over,” “no, you move,” and suddenly—

You were no longer just next to Sim Jaeyun.

In fact you were half an inch away from him, practically sitting on his lap! Yay!

You were nestled securely in the vee of his legs, your back resting lightly against his chest. His arms were loosely bracketing you, his hands holding his own controller, his chin occasionally brushing the crown of your head as he leaned forward to see the screen better. 

It’s a position born of practical necessity—there’s no room and Sunghoon insisted, you’re blocking the view, just scooch back.

Every point of contact was a live wire, the solid warmth of him at your back, the faint vibration of his laughter through your spine, the way his knees framed your hips, a casual cage you never wanted to escape.

The game was some ridiculous, fast-paced racing game that Heeseung was dominating. You’re both technically on the same team, but your coordination was a disaster.

“Here,” he said softly, leaning forward just a little. “You steer, I’ll handle the drift.”

You nodded. You had no idea what you were agreeing to. Your brain had officially stopped functioning.

Somewhere behind you, Park Sunghoon let out a low whistle. “Wow. Teamwork. Beautiful.”

“Shut up,” you muttered instantly.

Jake huffed a quiet laugh—right near your ear—and if your soul had a physical form, it would’ve left your body then and there.

“Ready?” he asked.

You tightened your grip on the controller. “Yeah.” As if he wasn’t making your horny brain go brrrr at the moment. 

The second round of the race started. Bright colors flashed across the screen, chaotic music filling the room, everyone shouting over each other—but all of it felt distant and muted. Like background noise to the very loud, very overwhelming awareness of him behind you.

“Left—left—okay, now drift,” he murmured, his voice low, focused.

His hand hovered near yours for a second—like he was debating whether to guide you or not—before pulling back. Probably for the best.

You might have actually combusted.

“I am drifting,” you whispered back, trying to sound normal and not like your entire nervous system was short-circuiting.

“You’re…..kind of driving into a wall.”

“I’m adjusting.”

“That’s not adjusting, that’s—oh—okay, we’re good, we’re good.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. And he laughed too, softer this time, like it was just for you.

For a moment, everything eased. The tension, the overthinking, the constant what is happening right now running through your head.

But the universe wanted to fuck with you even more! How wonderful!

“Left! Go left!” Jaeyun urged, his voice a warm murmur right by your ear. You jerked the controller, sending your shared avatar careening into a wall.

“You said left!”

“I meant my left! Your other left!”

“That makes no sense!” You laughed, the sound a little breathless. 

You tilted your head back to glare at him playfully, and for a second, your faces were inches apart. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile so close you can see the faint freckle just under his lower lip.

Jaeyun didn’t pull back, just held your gaze. The noise of the room—Niki and Sunghoon arguing over god knows what, Jungwon’s triumphant cackle—seemed to fade into a distant hum.

“You’re terrible at this,” he whispered, but there’s no heat in it. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement helplessly. Kiss-worthy.

“You’re the one giving bad directions,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

Jaeyun shifted slightly, and his chest pressed more fully against your back. One of his arms came down, his hand settling not on his own knee, but lightly on top of yours where it gripped your controller. His thumb brushed over your knuckle.

Maybe you were fated to just die at this young age. 

On the screen, your avatar plummeted off a cliff in a fiery explosion, GAME OVER flashing in bold letters. Neither of you moved and he didn’t pull his hand away.

“Sorry,” he murmured, not sounding sorry at all. His thumb made another slow pass over your skin. “Distracted me.”

“Wow.” Sunghoon, from his commentator’s perch on the armchair, let out a low whistle. “That was a spectacular loss. A tragedy, really. Almost like you two weren’t even looking at the screen.”

Jaeyun finally leaned back, but his hand remained, a warm weight. He cleared his throat, addressing Sunghoon but his voice was still pitched low. “Your commentary is worse than our driving, Hoon.”

The moment stretched, taut and sweet and terrifying for both you and Sunghoon. You were hyper-aware of everything: the texture of his pants against your legs, the steady rise and fall of his breath, the casual weight of his hand on yours.

The game continued, people shouted, someone groaned dramatically about losing. But right there, in that small pocket of space, everything felt very, very still.

And very, very not fine.

__________

You should have known from the first time he’d ever toppled your sand castle over at the ripe age of 9 that Park Sunghoon was a bitch. You should also have known that Nishimura Riki was out for Jaeyun’s blood for some dumbass reason.

So with their forces combined, what popped out was you and Jaeyun sleeping in one room.

With one bed.

How very fanfiction of you. 

The room had a sanctuary of quiet after the door had clicked shut, muffling Sunghoon’s final, far-too-innocent “Sleep well!” 

The bed sat in the center of the room, an island of pristine white sheets under the soft glow of a bedside lamp. It looks enormous and impossibly small all at once.

Jaeyun had initially his throat, gesturing vaguely towards the gaming console hooked up to a smaller monitor. “I, uh…..I told Heeseung I’d hop on for a bit. If that’s okay. Wind down.”

“Sure,” you’d say, your voice a little too high. “Yeah. No problem.”

You were now stretched out on the bed, phone inches from your face, thumb mechanically scrolling through absolute nonsense you weren’t even processing. The blue light reflected faintly in your eyes, but your attention? Your attention was not on your phone. 

Across the room, Jaeyun sat cross-legged in front of the gaming console like he belonged there, headset slightly askew, completely focused.

His voice was a soft, constant murmur into his headset. “No, go left. Left, Jay. The other left….yeah. There.”

You swallowed, eyes flicking up again. Big mistake, because his hands were right there.

And why the fuck were you even noticing his hands?

They moved quickly over the controller, precise and practiced, fingers tapping, adjusting, pressing with an ease that made it look effortless. The veins along the back of his hands were faintly visible under the soft room light, shifting subtly with every movement. They were hands built for soft things, petting a puppy, executing lethal game combos, trailing up your inner thighs to that forbidden place and then moving—

Your brain, clearly having abandoned all dignity, decided this was something to fixate on.

Great.

Fantastic.

You snapped your eyes back to your phone and scrolled and didn’t read a single word.

“Dude, what are you doing?” his voice came again, quieter this time, a small laugh slipping through. “You just ran straight into them.” There was a pause, muffled voices through the headset. He shook his head, smiling to himself.

And your dumbass? You looked again, because apparently self-control was a myth. You were now a puddle of yearning in human form.

The soft concentration on his face, the slight furrow in his brows, the way he leaned forward just a little when things got intense—it was all so unfairly captivating. You huffed quietly, locking your phone and dropping it onto your chest.

This was stupid.

You were stupid.

It was past midnight, you were stuck in a room with him, and instead of acting like a normal human being, you were overanalyzing his hands.

Hands.

“Okay, okay, last round,” he said into the mic. “It’s late.”

Something in your chest did a weird little drop at that.

Late.

Right. Which meant eventually sleeping. Which meant—

Nope.

You cut that thought off immediately. He pulled off the headset after a minute, setting it aside, stretching his arms slightly before leaning back on his hands. For a second, the room went quiet.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, glancing over at you.

You blinked, like you’d been caught doing something illegal. “Yeah. Just scrolling.”

“At this hour?” he raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. “

“You were literally yelling at people five seconds ago.” You sat up a little, hugging a pillow to your front. He laughed softly again, shaking his head. 

“Five more minutes and I’ll be there, yeah?”

Five more minutes and you’d be dead but yeah sure Jaeyun go ahead.

“Cool.” You said, before going back to whatever baking video you were watching. 

You didn’t even realize when your eyes had started closing. The video playing on your phone had long since stopped making sense—something about frosting techniques looping into silence as your grip loosened, your head sinking deeper into the pillow.

The blue glow from the monitor had faded to a soft standby orange. The click-clack of the controller had ceased an hour ago. The soft murmur of his voice into the headset faded into silence. You heard him shift, stand up, and pad softly to the bathroom.

Now, there was only the deep silence of a house asleep, and your own racing heart.

You were drifting, caught in that hazy borderland between consciousness and dreams, when the mattress dipped  beside you. It was a gentle, careful weight; he was trying not to disturb you.

But you were instantly hyper-aware, every nerve ending sparking to life. You felt the warmth of his body before you even registered his movement. The clean, citrus scent of him enveloped you mixed with the soft fragrance of whatever soap he used.

Jaeyun settled in, lying on his side, facing you, the space between you a canyon of cotton sheets and unspoken things. For a long minute, there’s only breathing—his and yours, synchronizing in the quiet dark.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice a soft rasp in the stillness. “You asleep?”

“Almost,” you whispered back, your voice sleep-softened. 

Your eyes fluttered open, slow and heavy, blinking against the dim light as awareness crept back in. For a second, you just stared at nothing, your brain lagging behind your body. And then you turned your head back to him.

Oh.

Oh ok.

So this was what death felt like. 

In the faint ambient light from the window, you could see his face. He’s close, so close, his gorgeous features softened by shadow, his eyes searching yours. 

One arm was tucked under his head, the other resting loosely over his stomach. His hair was even messier now, soft and falling into his eyes, and there was something quieter about him, like the night had softened all his edges.

“Sorry I woke you.” He didn’t move away, his hand resting on the pillow between you, his fingers curled loosely.

“S’fine,” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep. “I wasn’t fully asleep.”

The room settled again, wrapped in that late-night stillness where everything felt slower and a little more honest than it had any right to be. The silence that fell between you both felt thick and charged with potential. 

“You stayed up,” he said after a moment.

“So did you.”

“I said five minutes.”

“It’s been like…an hour.”

“Time is subjective.”

You let out a faint, sleepy laugh, eyes slipping shut again before forcing them open. “You’re annoying.”

“Yeah,” he said easily. “You still like me though.”

Your breath caught—did the fates really have to target you on this day? Fuck Park Sunghoon and his attempts to ruin your life no matter what. But also god bless park Sunghoon for letting you see Jaeyun in this way. 

“Who said that?” you murmured, staring at the ceiling instead of him. There was a pause, a small one.

“No one.”

You nodded, even though he probably couldn’t see it. Silence stretched again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, like something sat between you, unspoken but very much there. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, but the bed dipped again as he moved too.

“This is weird,” he said , a confession breathed into the shared darkness.

“What is?” You hummed, “Sleeping together?”

“Don’t—” He huffed a laugh, “Don’t say it like that.” Another silence before he took a breath as if steeling himself.

“You look really pretty today.” 

You didn’t answer. You just looked at him, letting your eyes say what your voice couldn’t—the way the world blurred when he looked at you.

Jaeyun moved then, not away, but closer, slowly, as if testing the waters. His arm shifted from the pillow, his hand finding yours where it rested on the sheets. His fingers brushed yours, then curled around them, holding your hand with a gentle pressure—like an answer, or perhaps a question. Certainly an end to all the theatrics.  You turned your hand, lacing your fingers through his. A silent, perfect fit.

A slow, relieved smile touched his lips. “Okay,” he whispered, as if that one word settled everything.

Jaeyun shifted again, this time moving with more of a sweet purpose. He turned, rolling so his back is to you, but then he reached back, his arm finding your waist. He pulled you gently towards him, until your back was flush against his chest, your head tucked under his chin.

His arm wrapped around you, holding you close. His other hand, still entwined with yours, rested near your heart. For a second, you thought your heart might actually give you away—loud, erratic and completely out of your control.

You could feel every breath he took along with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back and the solid warmth of him surrounding you.

“Is this okay?” he murmured into your hair.

It was everything to you.

“Yes,” you breathed, sinking into the embrace, “You’re warm,” you mumbled, half-asleep again.

“You were cold,” he replied, just as softly. You felt him shift a bit closer like he didn’t really want to let go either. 

You let your breathing even out, slow and soft, steady enough to pass. You were almost floating, held in the perfect cradle of his warmth, the steady lub-dub of his heart against your spine a metronome for your own slowing pulse. 

The world had narrowed to this: the scent of him, the weight of his arm, the soft tickle of his breath in your hair. You let your body go lax, your breathing deepen, playing the part of someone who had slipped peacefully into dreams.

Your eyes stayed closed, lashes resting against your cheeks as you sank further into the warmth of him, his arm still secure around your waist, your fingers loosely intertwined with his. It was too much in the quietest, most dangerous way.

It was a performance, but it was a comfortable one—a surrender to the safety of the moment. You were teetering on the very edge of true sleep when his voice cut through the haze, softer than a whisper, a secret meant for the dark.

“You’re pretty all the time.”

The words landed in the center of your chest, a gentle, devastating blow. They’re so simple, so absolute. You’re pretty all the time.

Your heart stuttered. If it had been loud before, now it was deafening—pounding against your ribs like it was trying to escape, like it had just been caught.

There was a small pause after he said it, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Or maybe he had. Either way, your breath hitched, a tiny, involuntary gasp you couldn’t have stopped if you tried.

He went still behind you; then, a soft, knowing chuckle vibrated through his chest and into yours. His arm tightened just a fraction around your waist.

“Knew you were awake,” Jaeyun murmured, his voice laced with tender amusement.

You felt a gentle poke in your side, right above your hip, a soft insistent prodding. The truth now was a living thing between you, the theatrics having disappeared.

Slowly, you turned in his arms. It’s an awkward shuffle of limbs under the covers, but he helped, loosening his hold just enough to let you shift until you were facing him. In the deep darkness, you could just make out the shape of his face, the glimmer of his eyes watching you. Your noses were almost touching and the shared air was warm.

“You heard that,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A small silence followed. Your fingers found his again without thinking, lacing together like they already knew where they belonged.

“Yeun?” 

“Yeah?” 

What were you even about to say? Wrapped up in this darkness, what was this newfound confidence? This newfound way to declare your love? 

“I did mean it, you know.” Jaeyun said, softer now, “You’re really pretty.” He chuckled, “Like really really pretty.” He didn’t look away, as if waiting for something to happen, “Beautiful.” 

The word hung in the dark, a final, shimmering jewel in the necklace of confessions. Beautiful—it’s not a word you heard often, not like this at least, spoken by an undeniable fact.

Your breath caught again, but this time, you didn't try to hide it. You let him hear it, let him see the way his words landed, the way they softened something deep inside you that had been braced for something else entirely.

In the silence that followed his confession, you felt a shift. The nervous energy, the tentative testing of these waters, it all melted away, replaced by a profound sense of rightness. You’re here, he’s here and there are no shadows between you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered, but the words were soaked in affection, the insult a tender secret shared between you.

Jaeyun huffed a quiet laugh, the sound a warm puff of air against your hair. “I’m honest.”

You squeezed his hand where your fingers are still intertwined. “I know.”

Another beat of comfortable quiet. The world outside this room, outside this bed, ceased to exist. It’s just the two of you in your little cocoon of warmth.

And the confession, when it came, wasn’t a grand, dramatic speech, just the quiet truth that had lived in your bones for years, finally given permission to breathe.

“I like you,” you whispered into the scant space between your lips. “A lot. For a really long time.” A beat, “Is that alright?”

Jaeyun held your gaze for a long time, eyes tracing over your features in the dark. His hand came up, his thumb brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead with a tenderness that made your eyes sting.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, the word a sigh of relief, of recognition. “Me too.”

It’s not as poetic or as beautiful. But oh, it was your favourite sound—the answer to every question you were too afraid to ask.

You saw his eyes widen slightly, hear the soft, sharp intake of his breath. For a second, he just looked at you, his expression one of stunned, vulnerable wonder.

Jaeyun leaned in, just a fraction, his forehead coming to rest against yours. A point of connection so intimate it felt more profound than if he’d proposed to you with a thousand roses. 

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

He didn't pull you into a kiss, not yet. Instead, he guided your head back down to his chest, tucking you firmly against him once more, his arms wrapping around you so completely you felt enveloped, cherished.

Loved.

Time stretched, elastic and sweet, minutes passed, or maybe hours—in this warm, shared darkness, it was impossible to tell and neither of you slept. 

There was no need for words; the silence was its own loving conversation. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your ear, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the occasional gentle squeeze of his hand where it rested against yours—it was all a language you were both fluent in now.

You were tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand with your thumb when the thought bubbled up, light and airy, born from the sheer, giddy perfection of the moment.

“Jaeyun?” you whispered, your voice hushed in the quiet.

“Hmm?” His response was a sleepy, contented rumble you felt more than heard.

“Should we….kiss right now?”

There’s a pause and you felt him still, then a soft chuckle vibrated through his chest. He shifted just enough to look down at you, his expression a mix of amusement and fond disbelief in the dim light.

“Why?” he asked, his tone playful. “Is there a rule I missed?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you—a soft, breathy sound that felt foreign and wonderful.

“It’s just…” you murmured, nudging your forehead gently against his chin. “It’s what they do in the movies.” 

You felt him smile against your hair. He leaned down, his lips brushing the crown of your head in a kiss so soft it was almost a sigh.

Jaeyun didn’t pull away after kissing your head. Instead, he stayed there, his lips hovering just above your skin, his breath a soft, warm rhythm. The playful tension of your question hung in the air and in the shadowy gloom, you could see the smile still playing on his lips, the fond curiosity in his gaze.

“So?” you whispered, the word barely audible.

Jaeyun answered by slowly shifting his position. He moved from lying on his side to propping himself up on one elbow, looking down at you where you’re nestled against him. His eyes searched yours, and you see the amusement melt into something softer.

Oh so this was what all those books always described.

The look of love.

Jaeyun leaned in. You leaned up. And it’s…awkward.

Your noses bumped first. You both froze, a stifled laugh escaping you in a puff of air. He chuckled, a warm, embarrassed sound, and adjusted his angle.

You met again, lips touching—a soft, tentative press. It’s sweet, it’s gentle…and then your teeth click together lightly with a tiny tap.

You both pulled back instantly, a burst of simultaneous giggles breaking the silence. Well this was certainly not how you expected this to go. It wasn’t all that elegant or cinematic. But hey it was clumsy and human and so, so real that it stole the breath from your lungs.

“Sorry,” he whispered, laughter still in his voice. “My fault.”

“No, mine,” you whispered back, your face flushed with warmth and happiness.

Jaeyun looked at you, his eyes crinkled with joy, and shook his head. “Let’s….try again. Slower.”

He cupped your cheek with his free hand, guiding you gently. You met him halfway, tilting your head just right.

His lips were now soft against yours, a careful exploration. There was no clash of teeth, no bumping of noses,  just a soft, lingering press, a silent conversation of yes and finally and this.

When you parted, it was with a shared, breathless smile. Your faces were still so close you could feel the happiness radiating from him.

“Is that what they do in the movies?” Jaeyun asked, his thumb stroking your cheekbone.

‘I think it’s less awkward.” You chuckled.

“Hmmm.” He tilted his head and smiled goofily, “I think our version is better.”

You found yourself thinking, yeah. It is better.

It wasn’t a perfect, rehearsed movie kiss. It was your kiss. A little clumsy, full of giggles, and then, profoundly sweet, a memory you’d keep forever.

Jaeyun didn’t move to kiss you again. Instead, he leaned down and pressed one more soft, lingering kiss to your forehead—a seal on the moment—before settling back down, pulling you tightly into his arms once more.

“So….”

“So?”

“Are we going to talk about it—” You hummed, “or are we going to wait for Sunghoon to tease the crap out of us in the morning?"

Jaeyun laughed, “I feel like if we start now we won’t be able to sleep.” He glanced at the bedside alarm clock. 2:30

“True.” You said, feeling sleep finally hit you, “Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow.” Jaeyun said.

You finally drifted off, not to the fantasies of the entire day you’d had,  to the reality of his heartbeat, his warmth  and the certain, thrilling promise of a tomorrow that would entirely to the two of you.

The last coherent thought you had was this: a profound, settling warmth that has nothing to do with the blankets, and everything to do with the boy holding you as if he’d been waiting his whole life to do just this.

How candy-sweet.

fin.

A/N: do i like this fic? not really. Do i think i kinda ate with the kiss? most certainly. anyways i hope anon enjoys this. Haven't really written much for jake nowadays ever since euijoo took over lol.

divider by @olenvasynyt

What Jake was currently saying, murmured against your inner thigh, was: “Perfect. You’re so perfect. Look at you.”

“You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true every time.” He looked up at you from between your thighs with those warm, devastating eyes. “She’s begging for me, baby. You see that? Look how wet your pretty cunt is. Look how much she wants it.”

The filth of it in that gentle, earnest voice wrecked you every single time.

“Jake.”

“Mm.” He turned back to you like a man entirely at peace with where he was. His tongue moved slow and thorough along your folds and he made a quiet, involuntary sound against you — like you tasted godly and he simply couldn’t help it.

He’d made you come once already tonight.

The first had been fast — his fingers while you were still in your dress, your back against the hotel room door barely thirty seconds after it closed. Sharp and urgent, his low warm voice talking you through every second of it while you shook against him.

Now he was building the second, and he was taking his time.

But he was also — you noticed — grinding slow against the edge of the mattress. His hips rolling in a restless, barely-conscious rhythm, his cock pressed to the firm edge of the bed, seeking friction while his entire focus stayed trained on you. Like he was so consumed by your pussy that his body had taken matters into its own hands.

It was the most flattering thing you’d ever witnessed.

“Jake.” You tugged his hair. “Are you — are you humping the bed?”

He didn’t have the decency to look embarrassed. He looked up at you with dark eyes and said simply, “You’re dripping on my tongue, baby. What do you want from me.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

He went back to work.

His tongue worked your clit in slow, deliberate circles, two fingers pushing into your hole and curling deep, and you forgot entirely what you’d been about to say. Your thighs tightened around his head and he groaned against your cunt, that helpless muffled sound, his hips still rolling lazily against the mattress edge.

“Close,” you gasped. “Jake — close—”

“Yeah,” he breathed against your folds. “Yeah, give it to me.” His fingers curled harder. His lips sealed around your clit and sucked and something shifted — something built sharper and higher than before and you barely had time to register it before it crashed through you different than the first, your body seizing, a rush of warmth, your thighs clamping around his face and Jake made a sound that could only be described as grateful as he drank down everything you gave him, his mouth working through every wave, his fingers slowing but not leaving your hole.

When you came back to yourself the sheets beneath you were soaked and Jake was pressing reverent, dazed kisses to your inner thighs, his chin slick, his eyes completely blown.

“Was that—” you started.

“Yeah.” His voice was rough. He looked like he’d just had a spiritual experience. “Yeah, that was.” He pressed another kiss to your thigh. Then he looked up at you with that warm, slightly demolished expression. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“You’re the one who—”

“I know.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I know. I don’t care. Come here.”

He kissed you slow and deep and you tasted yourself on his lips and felt nothing even adjacent to embarrassment about it. His hips settled between yours and you felt him hard and wanting then he shifted back.

“Not yet,” he murmured, more to himself than you.

He wrapped a hand around himself and you watched — propped on your elbows as he stroked himself slow, his jaw tight, eyes on your pussy like he couldn’t look anywhere else. Your cunt still clenching around nothing, still dripping onto the sheets.

“Jake—”

“Just the tip,” he said quietly. “Want to feel you. Just for a second.”

He pushed just the head of his cock into your hole — barely, just enough — and groaned so low it was almost silent. Then he stroked himself the rest of the way, his fist working fast now, his thumb pressed just inside your entrance feeling his own pulse, and when he came he pushed slightly deeper so it spilled inside you his whole body shuddering, forehead dropping to your knee.

“God.” His breathing was wrecked. “God, look at that.”

He was looking at your cunt. His cum just barely tucked inside your hole.

“Push it out,” he said softly.

“Jake—”

“Baby.” He looked up at you. Warm eyes. Completely serious. “Push it out for me.”

You did. And before it could go anywhere his mouth was there — he devoured it, messy and thorough and making sounds against your pussy that made your fingers twist in his hair, licking your folds clean and then pressing back inside your hole with his tongue like he was looking for more, like he wanted every last trace of it.

“Jake,” you gasped. “Jake—”

He surfaced looking entirely too satisfied. He kissed your inner thigh. Then he looked up at you from between your legs and said with complete sincerity: “She’s still begging for me.”

You stared at the ceiling.

“You’re insane,” you told him.

“You taste insane,” he said agreeably, and then he was building the third.

This one he took apart slowly. Methodically. His tongue on your clit while two fingers worked your hole open, then three, his free hand pressed flat on your lower stomach. He murmured against your folds — good girl and she’s so pretty when she’s dripping — the praise was doing as much as his mouth was.

Your wetness was everywhere. He was obsessed with it. Every time you clenched around his fingers he made a whimpering sound against your cunt like you were the one doing something to him and maybe that was the most devastating part of all of this — Jake, golden and warm and effortlessly charming, completely undone and whimpering against your pussy like a man with no dignity and zero desire to recover it.

“Close again,” you managed. “Jake, I’m—”

“Stay with me.” His fingers curled. “Stay right there, baby, come on.”

“I can’t—”

“You can.” He sealed his mouth over your clit and the fingers inside your hole pressed up and your back left the bed completely.

It hit you like a wave breaking — your whole body seizing, your cunt clenching hard around his fingers, and then the rush — more than before, even more than before — and Jake made a sound against your folds that was nothing short of reverent as he pressed his mouth fully against you and drank. Like a man dying of thirst. Like you were something he’d been waiting for. His tongue worked through every pulse, catching your wetness, fingers still buried in your clenching hole, not stopping until you were pulling his hair and shaking and calling his name in pieces.

He pressed one last, slow kiss to your cunt.

Then he was moving up your body, and his eyes were dark and warm and completely wrecked, and he kissed you so deep you felt it in your spine.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” you managed.

He smiled. Then his hips settled between yours and he pushed inside you fully — that long, slow, aching slide — and both of you went still.

He always did this. Held there for a moment, jaw tight, eyes closed, like you undid him just from this.

“Every time,” he breathed. “Every single time you feel like—” He stopped. Pressed his lips to your temple. Started to move.

Long and deep and steady, his face at your neck, your dress still bunched at your waist, his shirt hanging open. His hand slid between you to where your clit was swollen and oversensitive and you whimpered.

“One more,” he murmured. “You’ve got one more.”

“Jake I genuinely cannot—”

“You can. You always can.” Still warm, even now. Still him, underneath all of it. “My girl. Stay with me.”

His pace built, his control unraveling degree by degree, and his fingers on your clit were relentless and his cock was hitting somewhere deep that made your vision blur and you heard yourself making sounds you didn’t recognize.

“Think about you all the time,” he breathed against your neck. “All the time, baby. Can’t stop.”

“Jake—”

“I know.” Like you’d said something you hadn’t. Like he was answering the thing neither of you had said out loud yet. “Me too.”

The fourth one didn’t so much arrive as detonate. Your cunt clenched around him so hard he groaned and his rhythm stuttered and then he was pressing deep — as deep as he could go — and spilling inside you with your name in his mouth and his forehead against yours and his hand still cupped soft against your pussy like he was holding all of you together.

For a long time neither of you moved.

His weight settled half onto you. His fingers found yours on the sheets and laced between them without comment. His breathing slowed. The lamplight caught the award on the desk.

Then he shifted, and you knew before it happened.

“Jake—” You laughed weakly. “You really don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He kissed below your navel. Then lower. “Let me.”

His mouth found your cunt again — soft and slow, cleaning you up, his tongue pressing into your hole after what he’d left inside you, making those quiet reverent sounds against your folds like you were his favorite thing. Like you’d always been his favorite thing.

You stared at the ceiling with your fingers in his soft brown hair.

We are so far past stress relief.

He looked up at you from between your thighs. Warm eyes. Slick mouth. The most gentle, devastating expression.

Yeah.

So far past it.

No no no no no…

You sprint down the sidewalk, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly as it bounces against your back.

How can this be happening!?

For the first time in your life, you had slept through your alarm. You had stayed up late the night before, binging a new K-Drama that was too good to turn off. “One more episode…” you’d whisper, before clicking ‘next’ on the screen. So when the beeping of your phone finally pulled you out of your slumber, an entire half an hour late, you swore to the entertainment gods for making such addictive shows.

You round a corner, and then another, the concrete blurring beneath your feet. You felt beads of sweat forming on your skin and realized you probably looked like a crazy person racing through the street like this. The school was only a couple of minutes away, you were so close…

A large shape darted in front of you.

Startled, you lost your footing and went crashing to the ground. You stuck out your hands instinctively and felt a sharp pain as your skin skidded against the concrete. 

You groan, turning onto your side as you slowly open your eyes. Before you could process what was happening, a large wet tongue licked your face.

“What the…”

You open your eyes to find a medium-sized dog staring at you happily, its tongue out and its tail wagging. 

“Hey there, buddy, you really scared me.”

The dog licked your face again.

“Ok, ok, thanks, that’s enough.” You shoo the dog away and sit up wearily. Your hands sting, and when you look down, you find them caked with blood and dirt. 

You sigh loudly, “Now what am I gonna do?” You look back at the dog, “It’s your fault, you know.”

The dog clearly didn’t understand your frustration, and it continued to wag its tail happily. For the first time, you noticed how skinny the dog was. It looked like some sort of retriever, but you couldn’t tell under its dirty coat and thin frame.

“Poor boy, are you out here alone?” You reach out a hand and scratch its head with your fingers, being careful to avoid the cuts. “Are you even a boy?” You crane your neck to look under it. “Yes, you are, and a good boy too.”

The dog whined with happiness and rolled over on his stomach. You giggle, momentarily forgetting that you had somewhere to be.

“Looks like you made a friend.” A voice sounded from behind you.

You whirl around to find a boy around your age. He was a little taller than you, with a leather jacket and dark hair that fell softly around his face. His brown eyes watched you steadily, glowing with subtle amusement. You’d know that crooked smile anywhere, the one that drove all the girls crazy. Mr Popular himself, Jake Sim

“Oh uh, he’s not mine.” You get to your feet but keep your eyes on the dog, who’s still lying happily on his back. You avoid Jake’s gaze, feeling the unsteadiness of your speech before it even reaches your mouth. Talking casually with the school celebrity was not one of your skills.

“Really? Is it a stray?” Jake walks up until he’s standing right next to you. He crouches down and starts to rub the dog’s belly. “Hey, little guy, do you have a home?”

You can’t help but smile at the scene, Jake’s Australian accent not helping to calm your nerves.

The dog gets up and starts trying to lick Jake's face. He laughs as the dog assaults him with kisses.

His laugh had always had a contagious quality to it that you could never place. It was childlike, playful, and in total opposition to his “cool” exterior. You can’t stop a small laugh from escaping your lips. “He really likes you.”

Jake grins at you, his fluffy hair falling over his eyes, “They call me the dog whisperer.”

Your heart skips a beat at his smile. Maybe it made sense why all the girls lost their minds over him. “Oh, so you’re the expert.”

He shrugs, “I like to think so.” He looks up at you again, this time studying your face. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the flush on your cheeks from running and the sweat that clung to your neck. You avoid his eyes.

“I’ve seen you before, we have History together, right?”

You nod.

“Wait, don’t tell me.” He closes his eyes and puts a finger up, “You’re… Y/n!”

“Yep, that’s me.” You smile, suppressing the part of you that’s jumping for joy that he knows your name.

Jake cocks his head slightly, “Wait a minute, why are you even out here? Aren’t you the girl with perfect attendance?”

Your eyes widen, remembering why you’d been running in the first place. Before you could come up with the words to excuse yourself and get to class, Jake suddenly grabs your hand.

You inhale sharply as he gently holds your palm up to his face. “You’re hurt. Did this just happen?”

For a second, you can only stare at him, you’d never noticed the specks of yellow in his eyes…

“y/n?”

“What? Oh yes, I was running to class and-” you glare at the dog who’s staring up at the two of you curiously, “-and someone darted in front of me.”

Jake glances between you and the dog and smiles, “Maybe it was fate.”

Your breath catches, “Fate?”

Jake shrugs again, his crooked, boyish smile making another appearance. “Maybe you’re meant to take him home.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t-”

He cuts you off, “I’m just kidding, you don’t have to, but you do have to get these hands cleaned.” He gently releases your hand and turns away. “I can get you cleaned up at my place. Come on.”

You stare after him, speechless.

Jake calls out behind him, “And you too, boy, come on!”

The dog gets up from beside you and trots after him happily. You couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed. You look off in the direction of the school.

Well, it’s not like I can still be on time.

You take a deep breath and hurry after Jake.

-----

“Here we are.” Jake holds the door open for you as you walk into his house. 

You look around, surprised at how cozy it feels. You expected towering ceilings and minimalist decor, but instead found family photos lining the walls and large, comfy furniture. You stop in front of a family photo featuring a young Jake and an older boy you assume is his brother.

“Pretty cute, huh?” Jake leans against the wall beside you, looking at the picture.

“Oh uh- yes, very adorable.” You run a hand through your hair, trying to ignore the way his proximity makes your heart race. 

This boy…

The dog pushes his way between the two of you, rubbing against your leg.

“Are you sure he can be in here? Your parents won’t kill you for bringing in a stray dog?” You say, leaning down to scratch his ears.

“It’s fine.” Jake waves dismissively. “We have another dog, but my mom takes her to work with her.”

“Should we give him a bath or something?” You ask.

Jake studies their new companion, “Probably, we can do that after I patch up your hands.” He walks over to the staircase. “The first aid stuff is up here, follow me.”

You follow him up the stairs, trying not to think about how the girls at school would murder you if they found out you had been in Jake’s house.

“What’s your dog's name?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

Jake gets to the bathroom door and grins at you as he opens it to let you in. “Layla, she’s a border collie.”

“Aw, I love border collies, they’re so smart.”

“Right? She’s my best friend,” he runs a hand through his hair sheepishly, “my friends even say we look alike.”

You laugh softly, “You do have a puppy-like quality to you, in a good way.” 

Jake cocks his head slightly.

You cover your mouth with your hand to suppress your laughter, “Oh yeah, now I really see it.” 

He chuckles and starts to look through the bathroom cabinets, eventually pulling out a white plastic box with a red cross on top. He puts it to the side and holds out his hand.

You stare at it blankly.

“Give me your hands, we have to rinse them first.” He says.

You blush slightly, but quickly stick out your hands.

He gently guides them under the sink and starts to massage the blood and dirt off your skin.

You wince slightly as his fingers brush the cuts.

“Shh, sorry,” he says softly.

“It’s ok,” you reply.

As his attention is on your hands, you take the opportunity to get a closer look at him. You admire his soft features and warm brown eyes, his expression focused but kind. A warmth radiates off of Jake like something you’d never felt before. You gaze at the locks of hair that fall softly in front of his eyes. Your arm twitches slightly as you feel the urge to brush them out of his face.

Jake senses the movement and smirks slightly, his mouth creating a cute dimple that sends your heart fluttering all over again. 

“Ok, I think they’re clean enough.” Jake steps back and hands you a towel. “Ok, now sit.”

You suppress your smile at the firmness in his voice and perch at the edge of the bathtub. He crouches down beside you and starts to wrap your hand with gauze. It was more cut up than you expected, so you were grateful to have someone there to take care of you.

“Thanks for all this,” you murmur.

Jake looks up at you, “Anytime, I’ll always help a lady in need.”

“What a gentleman.”

He flashes you another one of his heart-stopping grins, “That’s how my mama raised me.” He finishes wrapping your hands and cleans up the supplies. “Should we call up our new friend?”

“Yeah,” you pause for a second, “should we give him a name?”

Jake closes his eyes and scrunches his nose while he thinks. You put your hand over your mouth as a small laugh escapes your lips.

He raises his eyebrows, “What?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But you’re sure he can see the blush on your cheeks.

“How about Fate?” He says.

“Fate?

“Yeah, like how I said, it was fate he ran into you today.” He glances away, a shy smile on his face. Then quieter, “And maybe fate that I ran into you, too.”

Your eyes widen, and you’re about to say something when the dog, Fate, comes charging into the bathroom.

Jake immediately starts showering the dog with attention, “Aw, good boy, you heard your name!” He looks up at you, “I knew he’d like it.”

You smile back, “Fate it is then.”

Jake lifts him into the tub and starts the process. He does the washing while you hand him the shampoo and treats, so you don’t get your fresh bandages wet. Fate handles the bath surprisingly well, and the two of you decide he’d probably had an owner before. Maybe he just ran away?

After the bath, Fate climbs out, and you both rub him down until he’s mostly dry. Now that he’s free of dirt, his golden hair shines through, and you think that he looks like a mix between a lab and a terrier.

“Well, you’re a beauty, aren’t you?”

“Thanks, I know,” Jake says.

You shoot him a playful glare, “I was talking to Fate.”

“Sure, sure,” he smirks at you, his eyes lingering on your face before turning to gather the wet towels. 

You roll your eyes and start to help him clean.

“Don’t worry, I got it. You and Fate go downstairs. I’ll be there in a sec.” Jake says, waving you out the door.

You nod and are about to head downstairs when you spy a door cracked open at the end of the hall. You pause, you know you shouldn’t. But curiosity gets the best of you, and you slowly approach the door. Before you can push it open, Fate barrels between your legs to open it himself. You’re about to call after him, but your voice trails off as you take in the room. 

Behind the door is a bedroom, filled with posters and knick-knacks, complete with a desk and a full-sized bed. You step inside, a small smile forming on your face as you take in the soccer trophies on the desk and the BTS poster on the wall. The room had so much warmth and personality, perfectly representing the boy you’d been getting to know over the last couple of hours. You breathed in deeply, relishing Jake’s unique scent that seemed to be intoxicating you more and more by the minute.

“Didn’t take you for someone who walks into people’s rooms uninvited.”

You spin around at the voice, finding Jake leaning against the doorframe, a quizzical look on his face, his hair slightly messy from cleaning.

You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You run a hand through your hair nervously, avoiding his gaze.

His expression melts into an easy smile, “I’m just messing with you, I was gonna ask if you wanted a tour anyway.” He walks into the room and leans down to pet Fate, who had already made himself comfortable at the foot of the bed.

Suddenly, you became hyperaware of the situation you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, skipping school, caring for a dog off the street, and standing in the bedroom of the school heartthrob. What were you thinking? What would your parents think? What would your teachers think?

A wave of panic starts to slip over you. “So this was really nice, but I-I should really go now.” You turn towards the door, but you only take a step before a hand wraps around your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turn your head to find Jake gripping your arm, a soft pleading look in his eyes. “Please stay.” After a second, he shakes his head as if snapping out of a trance and lets go of your wrist, taking a step back. He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, if you want to go, I won’t stop you, I understand.” When you don’t answer, he continues. “I just really enjoyed spending time with you today and thought…” he paused, looking everywhere but your face, “...thought that we could hang out since we already skipped school and everything.”

You stare at him, too shocked to speak. The air stills as Jake holds his breath for your reply.

After a few seconds, you chuckle softly at the bashful look on his face. He meets your eyes. “I’d like that, Jake.”

-----

After that, you guys decided to watch a movie. Jake gets the snacks ready while you gather pillows and blankets, stacking them on the couch in a huge pile.

“That seems a bit excessive,” Jake says.

You shrug. “I like comfort.” You settle onto your pile, pulling a blanket over you and snuggling into the fluffy mound.

He laughs when he sees you all curled up.

“What?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “You’re cute.”

You blush, sinking deeper into the couch as you half-cover your face with the blanket.

Jake doesn’t seem to notice, plopping onto the couch next to you and throwing another blanket over himself. “I love watching movies in the middle of the day.”

“Better than at night?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’m too tired to watch movies at night.”

“How early do you go to bed?”

He puts a finger on his lips as he thinks, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger a little too long…

Jake looks back at you, and you look away quickly. “Like 9 or 10,” he says.

“That’s really early.” 

“It’s not THAT early,” He says defensively.

“I went to bed at 1 am last night,” you deadpan.

“What can I say? I love being cozy.” He pulls the blanket tightly over himself and scoots closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You feel your heart rate quicken and your face heating up in response. “Am I cozy?” You say softly.

“Yes,” he mumbles.

You look at Fate, who’s fast asleep at your feet, then back at Jake, who’s curled up next to you, scrolling through movies on the TV. 

You chuckle softly, “You really are like a puppy.”

Jake meets your eyes and grins, and for the first time, you notice a soft blush forming on his face. 

After some debate, you two finally settle on the first Spider-Man movie and hit play. During the first hour, Jake shifted several times. Every time his hair brushed your neck, shivers ran down your back, and when he laughed, his hot breath raced over your skin, creating more intense flutters in your stomach. 

Eventually, he sits back up and looks at you, a hint of nervousness in his eyes along with something else, something darker. “Do you…” He starts, a playful smile crossing his lips, “...do you want to be the puppy this time?” He opens his arms invitingly.

You feel your heart beating out of your chest, and nod slowly. 

Jake smiles and lifts the blanket so you can move beside him. You lean into his back as he places the blanket over you both. Tentatively, he wraps his arms around you, placing his hands over yours. 

His scent washes over you, and you find yourself fully relaxing against his chest, leaning your head back until you feel his chin resting on your head. He absently rubs circles on your hands, and after a few minutes, you gain the courage to intertwine your fingers with his. You feel him stiffen slightly, and you’re about to let go before he squeezes your hand in response.

Throughout the movie, his hands become more confident, tracing down your hands and up your arms before finally snaking around your waist. You can barely focus on the movie because with every touch, your body is set on fire, and it takes all of your self-control not to close the distance between you.

When the infamous upside-down kiss comes on screen, Jake lowers his mouth to your ear, his hot breath sending shivers throughout your body, and whispers, “Did I ever tell you you look really pretty today?” His arms around your waist tighten.

“No,” you manage to whisper back, your heart pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it.

“Well, you do, like you always do,” he places a soft kiss on your neck, just below your ear.

Your eyes widen, “Always?”

Jake stops and buries his face in your neck. You can feel him smiling against your skin. “I guess my secret is out.”

You crane your neck to look at him, and he peers down at you shyly. “How long?” You ask, a smile creeping onto your lips.

He bites his lip, “Hmm, since the beginning of the year?”

You shove him playfully, “Five months??”

He tilts his head back, trying to hide his face from you out of embarrassment, but with you in his arms, he has nowhere to go. You think it’s adorable.

“You make the cutest faces when you’re trying to focus, and I was so impressed that you had perfect attendance. You never even get sick, I thought you were invincible or something.”

You giggle at his explanation, “I do get sick, but it’s usually only during school breaks.”

“So you’re not an angel or a descendant of some goddess?” Jake asks, a slight whine in his voice.

“Only to you,” you reply, booping his nose.

He ducks his head into your neck again, his face bright red. You laugh at his cuteness and turn your body so you’re sitting in his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck and start playing with the ends of his hair.

Jake pulls you close, his hands slipping under your shirt and resting on your stomach. He shifts his head and starts to place gentle kisses up your neck. He traces your jaw with his lips until he finally rests his forehead against yours. 

He stares into your eyes and licks his lips slightly. “y/n, can I kiss you?”

You stare back, your heart beating firmly against your chest. You nod.

With your confirmation, he leans in and softly places his lips against yours. His hand goes under your chin, tilting your head up for better access. The kiss is gentle and slow, filled with tender emotion.

You feel your body melt into him as you run your fingers through his hair. He sighs softly at the contact. The hand under your chin go to the back of your head, pulling you even closer, deepening the kiss. You smile against his lips, and he smiles back. 

Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s flipped you onto your back. You yelp in surprise, but he quickly silences you with his lips. One of his hands grips your thigh, and the other is braced beside your head as he holds himself over you.

His lips move from your mouth back to your neck, and you groan softly at the contact. He smiles and bites softly.

You gasp, “Jake! You’re going to leave a mark.”

He sucks on the same patch of skin, “But I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

You laugh softly, your heart melting at his words.

He stops and perches above you again, looking down into your eyes. “Once they know you’re my girl, no one will bother us anymore.” He pecks your lips.

“You mean your fan club? I’m pretty sure they’ll bother us more once they know you’re taken.” You say.

“No,” he moves down to your stomach, lifting your shirt slowly as he kisses you, “if they give you any trouble, I’ll tell them off.”

You stare up at the ceiling as he gets higher and higher up your torso. Your whole body is on fire. “Jake-”

You’re cut off as the doorbell rings. 

Both of you freeze and look at each other. The two of you sit up to straighten out your clothes. You run your fingers through Jake’s hair, doing your best to make it less messy. His eyes never leave you, affection seeping out of them. When you’re done, he kisses you once more, slow and deep, before standing up and heading to the door.

You stare after him, a smile plastered on your face that you’re sure can never be erased.

The door opens, and you hear Jake exclaim in surprise. Curious, you follow him to the door.

“Jay, what are you doing here?” Jake says. You reach the door to see the two boys greet each other. You recognize the boy from school and remember that he’s one of Jake's close friends.

“Well, I-” Jay freezes when he sees you come up to stand by Jake. His face breaks out in a smile, “No way, did you…?” He looks at Jake expectantly.

Jake smiles sheepishly and looks at you before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You flash Jay a shy smile.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, how’d it happen? You were terrified to talk to her.”

Jake’s about to say something when Fate comes sprinting down the hall. He jumps onto Jay, whining happily.

“Cupid! There you are!” Jay immediately drops down and starts petting the dog.

You and Jake stare at the pair in shock.

“Cupid…?” You start. 

“It was my mom’s choice,” Jay said flatly.

“This is your dog, Jay? I didn’t even know you had a dog!” Jake said.

“Oh yeah, he’s new. We just got him from the shelter, but the night after we brought him home, he somehow got out.” The dog licked him enthusiastically. “I’ve been looking for him for a few days now.” He looked back up at the two of you, “That’s why I came over, one of your neighbors said they saw you with a dog that wasn’t Layla.”

You and Jake look at each other, and before you know it, you’re both laughing. Jay gives both of you a questioning look.

“Let’s just say, Cupid really lives up to his name,” You say.

Jake intertwines his hand with yours.

They talk for a little longer, Jay telling you all about how Jake couldn’t stop talking about you, but never had the guts to approach you. You never leave Jake’s side, and when it’s finally time to say goodbye, you kneel in front of Cupid and scratch his ears. “Thanks,” you whisper so the boys wouldn’t hear. The dog looks back at you, and you swear that you can see a hint of mischief in his eyes.

You and Jake stand on the porch and watch Jay and Cupid walk away. From behind, he wraps his arms around your waist and places his chin on your shoulder. When they’re out of sight, he places his mouth beside your ear and whispers, “I told you it was fate.”

Jake pushes you back against the cool marble of the countertop. He's been kissing you for what feels like hours, an exploration that started in the living room and has now migrated here. His lips move against yours with a confidence that borders on arrogance, yet there's a softness to it that keeps you grounded.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice low and smug. One of his hands slides up your thigh, fingers tracing the hem of your shorts before dipping underneath to skim the sensitive skin there. You arch into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his kisses trail down your jaw, across your throat. He nips at the delicate skin where your neck meets your shoulder, and you feel a fresh wave of desire wash over you.

"Jake," you breathe, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues his descent.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Patience, baby. I'm just getting started."

His hands work at the button of your shorts, deftly undoing it before sliding the zipper down. You lift your hips to help him as he tugs the fabric down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. His gaze lingers on the thin lace of your panties, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Fuck," he whispers, more to himself than to you. "You're perfect."

He sinks to his knees before you, his hands resting on your thighs as he looks up at you through his lashes. There's something about the sight of him there, on his knees in your kitchen, looking at you like you're the only thing that matters, that makes your heart race.

"Spread your legs for me," he says, his voice still low but now laced with command.

You obey without hesitation, parting your knees as his hands slide up your inner thighs. His thumbs brush against the fabric of your panties, and you can't help but whimper at the contact.

"So obedient," he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips. "I like that."

He leans in, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs. His teeth scrape against your skin, and you feel a sharp sting followed by a soothing lap of his tongue. He's marking you, leaving little reminders of this moment that you'll see tomorrow, and the thought sends a thrill through you.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as he continues his work on your thighs.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark. "You're okay ?"

You nod, unable to form words as he sucks another mark into your skin, this one higher up, closer to where you really want his mouth.

"Good," he says, his voice smug. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

Finally, his mouth reaches the apex of your thighs. He presses a kiss to your cloth-covered center, and you arch off the counter with a cry.

"Please," you beg, not even sure what you're asking for.

"Please what?" he teases, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. "Use your words, baby. You can do it."

"Please touch me," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks, slowly dragging the lace down your legs. "As you wish."

The first touch of his tongue against your bare flesh is intoxicating. He starts with long, slow licks, his hands holding your hips steady as you writhe beneath him. He's methodical in his approach, exploring every fold and crevice with thoroughness.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," he murmurs against you, his voice muffled by your flesh. "Could do this all night."

You can feel the pressure building inside you, a coiling tension that grows tighter with every pass of his tongue. He seems to sense it too, because he changes his approach, focusing his attention on the bundle of nerves that sends jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

"Jake," you cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as you grind against his face.

He responds by doubling his efforts, his tongue moving faster, more insistently. One of his hands slides up your body, fingers finding your nipple and pinching it just hard enough to send a sharp pleasure-pain through you. That's all it takes. The tension inside you snaps, and you're coming with a cry that's half his name, half pure sensation. Waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless.

Jake doesn't stop. He continues, his tongue flicking against your oversensitive flesh as you ride out the aftershocks. It's almost too much, but at the same time, you never want it to end.

"Too much," you whimper, tears streaming down your face now. "Please, it's too much."

He looks up at you, his face glistening with your arousal. "Tears?" he asks, his voice softening slightly. "Did I make you cry, baby?"

You can only nod, unable to form words as he gently laps at your folds, cleaning you with his tongue.

"Good tears or bad tears?" he asks, his hands stroking your thighs soothingly.

"Good," you manage, your voice hoarse. "So good."

"You have nothing to worry about, the promotion is yours."

What should be assuring words from your boyfriend, do little in dismissing the ongoing doubt burrowed in your chest. 

Objectively speaking, he's right. You, a corporate slave, who for the most part shuts up and does their work, should be a shoe-in for the latest high-up position in your glassed office. You're friendly enough for colleague early morning smiles, firm enough to stick up for sheepish juniors, who thank you with pastries from your city's finest. You're dilligent and a force to be reckoned with, perfectly capable and deserving of the stepping stone in your endless ambition.

But the promotion isn't just offered to you. Instead it's proposed as 'healthy competition' between you and the worst human alive.

Some self-entitled, rich prick who if he couldn't have any more wrong with him, is a raging misogynist. With a knack for charading and flaunting generational wealth, Hajoon easily bypasses barriers the rest of your colleagues were sanctioned to through hardwork and ungodly overtime hours. Everyone is beneath him, especially you as every win he earns (buys) is directed at you, through piano key veeners and his 'improved' hairline. 

He also loves to ass-kiss, disgused as niceness as he invites your boss to the life he dreams of: exclusive golf tours, high-end dinner reservations ─ all for the sake of discussing 'business.' It's a flimsy excuse, seen when your boss at least has the decency to be embarrased about. Yet, it doesn't stop him for pitting you together in a race that's already set.

"Let's hope Hajoon doesn't take him to the masters," you scroll through your song library, swiping indiscriminately. "There's only so much prestige I can offer."

"Your work speaks for itself, pretty," Jake chances a glance at you, comfort moulded in his lips. "You mopped the floor with him in that last presentation. It's yours," 

"Besides," he starts, country road stretching past the dust-speckled windshield. "If your boss is so horribly mistaken to choose him, I'd personally bake them a shit pie for their troubles."

You smile despite yourself, a snicker from him triggering yours as their shared volume overrides the murmured engine roar. 

"You're right. About the shit-eating too but," you chuckle, phone dropped into your lap to peer through the window, watching the rustic landscape pass you by. "Things have been so hectic and I think I've placed a lot importance on this than what's good for me." 

"It's good to be driven, love. It's one of your many best traits," just briefly, your eyes catch, the tenderness in his enough to turn your head away. "But this is what this weekend is about. A step back to center yourself, because regardless of what happens, you deserve to put yourself first."

He changes gears, movement second-nature beforer his hand overlaps your thigh, broadly splayed over your jeans with rosy-knuckles and firm grip. Stable, like you've always known him to be. 

Your hand folds over his, a squeeze given to extend your gratitude where words fail. But he knows, knows you in all the pieces given through the six months you've known each other. 

He says this trip to the mountains is a celebration of the milestone, but you know better. You're well aware he's seen you at your most exhausted, still showing up for him and others because contrary to cynic's beliefs, your loved ones come first. He's seen the frustation sear the white of your knuckles, jaw clinched at Hajoon's insults, a loser you don't dignify with a response, letting your work speak for itself. And through it all, he shows up for you. Constantly, but especially now. 

The soft smile on your face doesn't waver as the car eats away at miles travelled, nearing halfway through your journey as Jake pulls into a rest-stop. Humble in size, the establishment offers a string of fast-food restaurants, petrol pumps and an old jungle gym with 'Unsafe. Do Not Enter' sign hanging off it. Before you're able to browse the convenience store to line your stomach, peaked neon lights capture your attention.

Tucked away on the outskirts of the property stands a store half the size of all others, a neon sign of the evil eye lending out a helping hand glowing in hues of violet and rouge. The windows line themselves in the same violet colour, drapes as the backdrop for meticulously placed crystals, tarot cards, singing bowls and the like. Your focus then falls to a poster plastered to the front door, adorned in gold stars over the graphic red curtain background.

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