#dark jake

like the time jake got stupidly drunk at a house party at the age of seventeen, and jay had to haul his half–conscious ass back through the window of his bedroom while sunghoon knocked on the front door and entertained jake’s father from finding out.

or the time jay accidentally broke the school’s window and to prevent him from getting suspended and kicked out of the football team, jake stepped forward and took the blame—”i threw it too hard to impress a girl, sorry.” he flashed that innocent puppy smile and accepted the week’s detention without complaint. jay never forgot it and paid him back by covering his shifts for two whole weeks.

but the real payment was the tighter bond between them.

“ride or die,” sunghoon had said once. and in a world where friendships were shallow and people stabbed each other in the back, the three of them were unbreakable. like a stream of water, it cannot be cut—

but even the strongest stream can be diverted when the faucet is turned.

——

 funny enough—the first time jay saw you was during one of his football friendly matches. 

it was a casual friday afternoon game, nothing serious, just the medic faculty versus the business for bragging rights and free drinks afterward. jay was on the field in his number 99 jersey, sweat already soaking the back of his neck under the orange sun.

his girlfriend, minji, was sitting in the small bleachers with a couple of her friends, waving at him every time he glanced her way. he’d blown her a kiss before the whistle, the perfect boyfriend move that made his teammates tease him later.

and you weren’t even supposed to be there for him. 

you were merely just a friend with one of the strikers in his team—and had come along because he (martin) had begged you to at least pretend to cheer so he doesn’t look like a loser. you sat on the grass near the sidelines, knees pulled up in those pretty shorts and prettier top. 

you weren’t attention seeking or loud, but jay found his eyes travelling to you more often than he’d like to. light, genuine laughter that cut through the noise of the field and scored him square in the chest. he almost lost the ball.

and if it wasn’t after the match that everyone gathered near the benches to talk about what happened and martin pulled you in to join the conversation. you, being youself—ever so friendly and talkative you, even prettier up close and funnier than most girls he know—chatted with the rest of the boys like you’d known them for months.

jay stood there, still catching his breath, tower slung over his shoulder, watching you. the conversation flowed naturally and he found himself grinning wider than he should, eyes lingering on the way your lips curved when you smiled.

“you played so well. even if your team totally got lucky on that last goal,” you commented, casually sitting next to jay on the bench. jay laughed, humming. “yeah? that never happened by the way—so it was probably your luck.”

you raised an eyebrow, amused, turning your body slightly toward him. “you think so?”

the way you said it made something in his chest tighten in the best way possible. most girls would either just giggle or try too hard, but you looked like you were genuinely enjoying the back–and–forth. 

he leaned back on the bench, resting his elbows behind him. his jersey clung to his chest, damp with sweat, but neither of you care. for once, he was grateful his girlfriend wasn’t around.

“maybe,” he replied, that smirk tugging at his lips. “or maybe you’re bad luck for the other team. every time you cheered us, their defense fell apart. i saw it.”

you let out the laugh that got him almost distracted on the field earlier—and shook your head. “you’re so smooth, jay. do you use that line on every girl who watches your game?” 

uh, oh. 

his smirk faltered for half a second. he let out a quick, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck to play it cool. “of course not,” he said, chuckling a little too loudly. “that would be way too cheesy. i swear i’m not that kind of guy.”

you tilted your head, studying him with glint in your eyes. then, casually, almost too casually, you dropped it—

“i thought so! you kept blowing kisses to a girl earlier. i saw it.”

jay went quiet.

the easy smile on his face froze. his fingers tightened slightly around his water bottle as the words landed. he swore—he swore—he didn’t mean to come off as flirty or anything, but it just… came out naturally. 

like it was just you.

for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. he hadn’t even realised you’d noticed that. 

“yeah, well…” he started, voice trailing off. he looked away for a second, heartbeat drumming fast, searching for the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete asshole. 

before he could finish, you broke into a soft giggle and waved your hand lightly in front of him. “i’m just joking, hehe,” you said, mischievous. “relax. you don’t have to look so guilty.”

jay let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the tension in his shoulder easing as he laughed along. you were teasing him, but the way you said it so playfully made his tummy flip. 

he finally met your eyes, watching the way your lips curved when you smiled like that. relax. you don’t have to look so guilty. then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to you. 

“put your number in,” he said, smoother and calmer now. “next time we play, you could be our lucky charm again.” 

you’re not stupid. if anything, martin would’ve invited you to the next matches anyway. but you took the phone anyway—fingers brushed against his. you saved yourself as yn, followed with a little soccer ball emoji and handed it back.

“don’t blow me kisses though,” you teased lightly as you stood up, brushing invisible dust from your shorts.

jay watched your back as you walked away, phone warm in his hand, your contact staring back at him. it’s harmless—it’s just a number and you’re just a girl who was easy and fun to talk to.

but the further you got from him, the more it’s clear to jay that he was going to text you tonight. 

and the first turn of the faucet happened—quietly, and completely without anyone knowing, not even jay himself.

——

“oh my gosh, my player,” you moaned sensually, tipping your head back as jay lifted you up around his waist with ease. 

his strong hands gripped the back of your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pressed you against the cool metal locker. the contrast between the cold surface on your back and the heat of his body made you shiver.

jay’s mouth was on yours instantly—hungry, deep, messy, and horny. he kissed you like he’d been starving from it since the first whistle was blown, tongue sliding against yours while low groans rumbled deep from his chest. 

“fuck baby, you feel so good like this,” he rasped between kisses, grinding his hard cock against your bare pussy. the thin fabric of his shorts was the only thing separating you, and you could feel every inch of him throbbing, already leaking like a little boy for you. 

“my little reward.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as you rocked your hips against him, chasing the friction. “hngh—you did so well… how are you so good at everything?” another sensual moan slipped from your lips when he shifted and rubbed the head of his cock against your swollen clit. 

“am i?” his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting lightly, leaving faint marks he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t stop himself from making. one hand stayed under your thigh, holding you up effortlessly, while the other squeezed your tit, thumb flicking over your perky nipple until you whimpered. 

“look at you,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse with list. “so fucking wet and ready for me after i won. you like being my secret celebration, baby?” 

you nodded eagerly, pussy twitching and clenching around nothing but the idea of jay’s thick cock inside. sensing that—he pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, tip glistening with a bead of precum. 

“i want you—fuck me, please,” you cry out, leaning to kiss him.

without another word, jay lined himself up and pushed inside you in one slow, deep thrust—stretching you open, filling you completely. a broken moan tore from your throat as he bottomed out, walls clenching tight around him. the guy buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly at how perfectly you took him. 

“shit… so tight,” he breathed, staying still to let you adjust—but not for long before he started moving, sensual, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock against every sensitive spot. “oh god, yesyesyes, just like that,”

the locker rattled with every thrust. your legs tightened around his waist, heels dragging into his lower back as he fucked you against the cool metal, mouth never leaving your skin. he kissed, licked, and sucked at your neck and collarbone while his pace gradually picked up, turning deeper and harder.

“mine tonight,” he whispered roughly, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles on your wet, sensitive clit. you moaned louder, bud ticklish and feeling like you were going to squirt—which you did, just seconds after. 

jay’s so good and gentle with how he’s treating you it’s making your chest flutter. “yours, jay, yours,” you gasped as the head of his cock knocked against your cervix—jerking your body upwards with each pound.

“my pretty little trophy… taking my cock so well after the game.”

your moans grew louder, more desperate, echoing softly in the empty, locked, locker room as he drove into you again and again and again—sensual, hot, sinful, and so fucking good.

jay’s breathing turned ragged, forehead pressed to yours as he chased both your highs, the wet slap of your skin and your shared gasps filling the air. the player ended up cumming—shooting ropes and ropes of warm jizz on your pretty little face, landing some on your head.

seeing how well you’re cleaning his cock—jay realised he was far from done with you.

——

for sim jaeyun, everything had its place, neatly stacked in order of importance.

first came his family—always. then his friends (sunghoon and jay at top, then the rest of the people he knows). layla, his border collie, squeezed into that top tier too. studies came strongly after that because he believed it’s 100% his future—

and finally, only then—way down the list—came fun.

and fun included his girlfriend, chloe. she was sweet, understanding, and never complained when he told her he had to study late or hang out with the boys. jake liked that about her—she knew her place in his priorities, and she respected it.

he never meant to rearrange that list. 

“sorry we can’t do this at my apartment,” jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “my girlfriend’s been staying over a lot lately and… yeah. i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

you and jake shared multiple classes since the start of the semester, sitting in the same lecture halls but he’d never really talked to you. not until the professor paired you two together for a major project that counted half of the final grade.

now here you were—tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner of the library on the third floor. jake sat across from you, laptop open, highlighter between his teeth as he scribbled notes. you leaned back in your chair, legs crossed, a small knowing smile playing on your lips.

unlike the easy friendliness you’d shown jay, something about jake brought out a slightly different side of you—a bit more teasing, more… dominant? like you enjoyed watching the good boy squirm a little. 

“that’s okay, jakey,” you replied, tilting your head, eyes locked onto his. “anywhere is fine at least we get it done, right?”

jake blinked, caught off guard by the nickname but didn’t comment on it. his cheeks warmed slightly, but he laughed it off. “yeah… exactly. studies first, you know? gotta keep priorities straight.” 

you hummed, leaning forward on your elbow, chin resting on your hand as you watched him. jake had to do everything just from glancing at your cleavage sticking out from your shirt. the way your gaze lingered made the air between you feel a little heavier, more intimate—and jake figured this was why most girls wouldn’t want their boyfriends around a girl.

a pretty one at that too.

“that’s good. keeping everything in order like that, hehe.”

the words slipped out casually but jake’s ears turned pink anyway. he shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper–aware of how secluded this corner was—no one could really see the two of you back here.

he tried to steer the conversation back to the project, pointing at the screen as you scooted closer beside him. “so… for this second, i was thinking we could—”

“oh—you typed quantitative wrong here—” 

you leaned in and pointed at the typo on his laptop screen. in the process, your chest brushed against his arm, soft and warm through your thin top that jake swore he felt the sponge of your bra. 

jake froze.

his breath hitched, eyes widening for a split second as he felt the brief press of your chest against his bicep. a rush of heat shot straight through him and you felt the way he tensed up.

“oh—shit, sorry,” you said quickly, pulling back a little, though your voice didn’t sound even an ounce of guilt if he was being honest. “didn’t mean to interrupt you like that.”

his mouth went dry. he could still feel the ghost of the touch on his arm, and his brain was suddenly struggling to form normal sentences. “n—no, it’s okay,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks now matching the pink of his ears.

“don’t worry about it.”

you bit your lip to hide a small smile, watching the way composed jake was suddenly flustered. the good boy who kept his priorities straight was starting to crack a little. instead of moving back, you stayed right where you were—shoulders almost touching his, close enough that your perfume filled his nostrils. 

you pointed at the screen again, this time more carefully, your nails tapping on the lcd. your voice dropped softer, with a hint of light dominant slipping through.  

“see? right here. fix it, jakey.”

jake swallowed hard, nodding quickly as his fingers moved to the keyboard. but it was hard to focus on the project anymore—not when every time you shifted even slightly, he became hyper–aware of how close you were, and how dangerous his mind was playing at.

that damn cleavage and top.

maybe it was because jake met you during one of his ‘studying’ sessions, but you were quick to climb up his carefully built hierarchy. just like jay, you were easy to talk to, quick with your thoughts, and somehow jake liked… being told what to do. shamelessly.

“you’re so good at this,” you hummed softly, scooting your chair just a tiny bit closer until your knee brushed his under the table. “what’s something you’re not good at?” 

you meant the project—but you also knew men like jake would divert the meaning elsewhere. something jake’s not good at is probably standing on his morals and keeping his priorities straight. 

not when he’s easily swayed like this.

——

just two months after that, jake’s stacked priorities crumbled.

parked in a quiet, dimly lit corner of the campus parking lot at 11:49 p.m., the backseat of his car fogged up. he had a chemistry exam the next day—yet here he was. 

“jakey…” you whispered against his mouth, voice low and teasing as you cupped his cheeks, fingers tapping against his skin. “you’re thinking too much again.” you continued, straddling his lap and brushing your lips against his.

“it’s late…” he breathed, even as his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you down harder against the obvious bulge in his jeans. “test t’morrow… chloe… fuck, this is so wrong.”

you pouted playfully, rolling your hips and grinding against him in the meantime. “but you’ll ace the test tomorrow anyway, why bother?” you hummed, pressing your lips against him. jake groaned, head falling back against the seat. you purposely ignored the latter problem.

his morals screamed at him, but his body betrayed him completely.

clothes were pushed aside rather than fully removed—your skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side, his jeans shoved down just enough. he had you on all fours, exactly how he liked it best: doggy style.

as all up for him to watch as it jiggles—yeah, fuck yeah. jake’s hands gripped your hips tightly as he pushed into you from behind in one, full, deep thrust—instantly burying himself deep with a broken moan.

“shit—you feel so good, yn,” he gasped, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades for a second. the angle was beyond perfect—the cramped car, and your tight, wet, cunt while being so deep he could feel every clench around him. 

“uh huh? what else?”

he started moving, savouring the way your back arched for him, the way you pushed back to meet every thrust, the way your ass jiggled when his pelvis slapped ‘em. “so tight, your pussy’s so tight, yn,” he rasped, picking up his pace. jake’s hips snapped harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the space of the car. “i love it—love your pussy,”

jake’s cock was probably the longest you’ve had, reaching so deep your fingers, toys, and other boys had never been able to. “oh god, jakey, you’re so good,” you moaned aloud, palms flat against the fogged window.

“you’re ruining me,” jake groaned, one hand sliding up to push you down lower, chest pressed against the seat while your ass stayed up for him. “can’t stop thinkin’ about this—about you.”

his balls slapped against your wet pussy, dragging you velvet walls with each time he pulled out. you moaned sensually, gripping the edge of the seat as he fucked you faster, coming close. “then don’t stop, just do me all the time.”

that pushed him over the edge. 

the boy’s grip tightened. he pulled you back onto his cock, deep with every thrust. the car rocked with his movements. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, sweat dripping down his temple, morals completely shattered as he took you exactly how he loved—deep, rough, playful.

“want your cum, gosh—fuck, cum all over me,” you gasped, saliva leaking out from the edge of your mouth. your pussy squelched with every thrust, juices splattering on the leather seat. what a shame to the girlfriend, really.

he leaned over you, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other braced beside your head, pounding into you harder as he began chasing his end. “shouldn’t… i really shouldn’t…” he groaned, voice strained and broken.

“c’mon, be a good boy—give it to me, cumcumcum,”

the praise pushed him over—with a final moan, jake pulled out of your dripping pussy. he flipped you onto your back in one motion, trapping you between his knees. his hand pumped his slick, wet cock furiously, eyes dark and wild as he hovered above you.

you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes—lips parted, chest heaving, already arching your back and pushing your tits together for him. his abs tensed, jaw clenched tight.

“shit—i’m cumming—!”

thick liquidity, warm ropes of cum shot across your chest in messy spurts, painting your tits and collarbones white. some landed right on your nipple, dripping slowly down the curve which only caused jake to cum some more.

fuck, that’s so fucking hot—he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat as he kept stroking himself through it, milking every last drop until his cock twitched empty and his whole body shuddered. 

you licked around your lips, smearing jake’s cum all over your pretty tits. it looked like you were lactating his cum. 

“fuck… am i good enough, yn?” he murmured, chest heaving. “look at what you do to me.”

——

saturday night and sunghoon’s at a popular off–campus club with a group of his classmates. while he’s not much of a party guy, he came because one of them kept dragging him anyway, and he knew he couldn’t keep rejecting their advances for so long.

he’s sitting in the booth area, nursing drunks, bored, and detached while everyone else is loud and drunk. sunghoon doesn’t dance. doesn’t flirt. just watch.

that’s when he saw you.

you’re on the dance floor with your girlfriends, just being effortlessly sexy and attractive—the way your body swayed, hair sticking on your neck from the heat, the same curve of your smile that jay was starstrucked with. 

and that damn black dress that hugged your curves just right.

sunghoon’s eyes locked on you instantly, he didn't smile when your eyes met his as well across the floor—just watching. instead of looking away shyly, you held his gaze for a few seconds, then your eyes travelled from the top of his head down to his shoes, and  gave him a slow smile before turning back to your friends.

that was all it took for him.

sunghoon stood up, leaving his classmates’ drinks and stuffs on the table, and walked straight onto the crowd. he didn’t say anything at first—just slid in behind you, one hand slightly resting on your waist as he spun you around to meet him. 

“hey,” he murmured, tall frame towering over you. “what’s that about?”

you tilted your head slightly, a playful, faux innocence smile playing on your lips. “what’s what about?”

his eyebrows furrowed just a fraction, but the corner of his mouth twitched—the tiniest hint of amusement and a thought of, wow, the audacity. his hand stayed on your waist, thumb pressing lightly into the fabric of your dress, holding you in place. 

“that look you gave me,” he said, shrugging. “are you daring me?”

you let out a soft laugh that almost sounded like a scoff, eyes sparkling and laced with a kind of bratness that he never knew he was into. you didn’t pull away but instead stepped a little closer, letting your chest brush against his as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“and if i am?” you replied, sweetly. “what are you gonna do about it?”

morality had always been quite a blur to sunghoon.

he never lost sleep over it but rules, right and wrong, loyalty—they were just concepts that applied to other people. as long as it didn’t affect his image or his life or his close circle greatly, he didn’t care enough to draw hard lines.

and tonight, those blurry lines had just walked out of the club with him.

sunghoon didn’t say much as he guided you toward his black sedan by holding your hand in his. you glanced up at him, still wearing that same little smile. “you always drag girls out of clubs without asking their name?”

he unlocked the car with a soft beep and opened the front door for you. his eyes met yours—completely unbothered. “sunghoon,” he said simply. “and i don’t bring girls out anywhere.”

you let out a hum, but still slid into the front seat without hesitation. he followed right after, closing the door behind him. the inside of his car smelled strongly of his cologne, and as he started the engine, he didn’t bother with small talks. didn’t ask where you lived, nor did he offer to take you home. 

sunghoon pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the city centre with his one hand occasionally brushing your thigh. you watched the streetlights flicker across his jawline and the way his expression said nothing eventhough the tension between you two in the car reeked with want.

“so… where are we going?”

“a hotel. closer than my place.”

——

the door had barely clicked shut before sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, mouth crashing into yours in a deep. hungry kiss. there was nothing gentle about it—his lips moved against yours with need, tongue sliding in immediately to taste you as one hand gripped your jaw, and the other pressed on your hip. 

and you—you kissed him back just as greedily, fingers digging into his shoulders, tugging at his shirt like you wanted it off yesterday. “ngh—hngh,” you moaned into his mouth, tongue intertwining and sucking on one another.

sunghoon broke the kiss only long enough to pull your dress up and over your head at once, letting it drop to the floor. his hands were on you instantly—squeezing your tits, sliding down to grip your ass, yanking you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was through his pants.

“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, voice low. he bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue before kissing you again, deeper this time. 

you moaned into his mouth, hands working frantically to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. the moment his bare chest pressed against yours, sunghoon groaned and lifted you up. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried you across the room, lips still on yours.

he dropped you onto the bed, the mattress dipping. before you could even catch your breath, sunghoon was crawling over you, shoving his pants and boxers fully down to free his thick, heavy cock.

and jesus—unlike jay or jake’s, sunghoon was packing. 

“you’re so hot,” sunghoon licked his lips, hooked his fingers into your panties, ripped them down your legs, and spread your thighs wide open with his knees. he looked down at you for one brief second, then lined himself up. 

“are you gonna fuck me? without even knowing my name?”

sunghoon paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cocky smirk. finally, he didn’t look cold. he pushed just the tip inside you, teasing, before answering.

“i know you, yn,”

your eyes almost widened, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across your features. 

“how?”

he leaned down closer, one hand gripping your thigh as he slowly sank another inch deeper, stretching your tight cunt open. “i overhead your friends,” he murmured, hissing through his teeth as your pussy engulfed him. 

you let out a soft moan, back arching as the familiar burn of being stretched came back to you. “fuck… you’re really something, hoonie.”

sunghoon bottomed out with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you. for a second, he stayed still—letting you feel and adjust every inch of him, his grip on your thighs tightened. you arched your back, eyes half–lidded as you looked up at him, that spark still burning bright behind your eyes. 

“fuck me good, hoonie,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip as you began palming and playing with your tits, tweaking the perky buds. “make it worth me leaving my friends for you.”

“shh—shut up and let me do the work.”

that night, sunghoon fucked you for hours—the bed creaked loudly beneath as he fucked you deep and fast, hips snapping against yours with every thrust. his hands held your thighs spread wide, keeping you open as he pounded. the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the hotel room.

“fuck—your cunt feels s’good,” sunghoon moaned, tipping his head against the headrest, jaw clenched tight. you hovered right over his hard, slick cock. sunghoon’s eyes never left yours as you sank down onto him, taking every inch until your ass met his lap.

a broken moan left your lips at the deeper angle. sunghoon groaned too, his fingers digging harder. “look at you,” he murmured, eyes roaming over your face, your bouncing, marked, tits, lips parted in pleasure with your tongue sticking out. 

fuck. this is why sunghoon loved cowgirl. watching every lewd, pretty expression, every flutter of your eyelashes, your mouth opened to moan his name—because of this cock. 

you started moving, rolling your hips in sensual circles, then bouncing on his cock with more force. his hands guided you, but he let you do most of the work, just like he liked it. his gaze stayed locked on your face the entire time. 

“you’re so big, hoonie, oh jesus fuck,” you moaned eagerly, biting your lip. with each time you bounced on it, the head of his cock kissed your cervix sweetly and it felt so fucking good. he pulled you down closer by the nape of your neck, and kissed you deeply while you rode him. 

“that’s it… just like that, baby,” he rasped against your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. “ride my cock like a good girl—let me see how pretty you look when you cum on me again.”

his free hand moved between your bodies to circle and pinch your perky buds. the combination made your rhythm falter, thighs shaking as you bounced faster, chasing the high. 

sunghoon kept watching you—obsessed. he kissed you again and again, swallowing your moans, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your movements and driving himself even deeper.

“cummin’ soon, babe?” he murmured against your lips, now moving his hand to rub that sensitive, wet, clit. “cum on me—then i’ll fill you up.”

you could only moan his name as the pleasure built higher and higher, your hips moving desperately. 

sunghoon, who never thought he’d ever cheat on sooha, let alone creampie another girl he just met raw—watched your face with almost possessive gaze. he had always been careful, even with someone who has little to no morals. 

and you—who had literally never let anyone cum inside you before—were seconds away from letting him be the first.

your thighs shook as the orgasm crashed over you. “fuck—!” you cried out, clenching hard around him, hips stuttering as you came and squirted all over his cock. the feeling of your pussy pulsing and gushing around him pushed sunghoon over the edge. 

thick, hot spurts of semen flooded inside you, filling you up the very first time. he kept thrusting through it, pushing his cum deeper. 

one night stand—this won’t ruin anything for sunghoon.

right?

——

“so,” jay started, leaning back against the railing with that smirk of his, “valentine’s next week. you guys already got plans locked in?” 

jake nodded, smiling. “don’t even say it. i booked the restaurant last month because i know she’ll kill me if i forget. we’ll probs just have dinner together.” he shook his head, sipping his canned beer. “gotta keep the girlfriend happy, right?”

sunghoon took a slow sip of his as well, shrugging and unbothered as ever. “i’ll probably just take sooha out on a breakfast and shopping. i got plans that night.” 

jay raised an eyebrow, turning to him with curiousity. “oh? what are you doing that night?”

he didn’t even flinch, just stared down at the small puddle of water around the can opening where his mouth kissed it. “bringing yeji out,” he said, absentmindedly swirling the alcohol in the can. “she’s been begging me to take her out. figured valentine’s night is as good as any.”

jake let out a laugh, completely buying it. “damn, she’s gonna milk you dry.” he commented, then glanced at jay from where he’s sitting. “what about you? something big again?”

“nah, think minji wants something intimate this time.” he hummed, looking out at the yard—people were chatting, dancing, and drunk to their heads. “maybe i’ll cook and we’ll spend the day at mine. who knows.” 

“what a romance.”

the three of them continued talking easily—hopping from one topic to another—arguing whose girlfriend was more demanding, whose more whipped, and reminiscing about things they’ll never get back. 

none of them even knew that they each shared the same secret—and little did they know, she was walking around the party downstairs right under their noses. 

down in the crowded kitchen, you leaned against the counter, red cup in hand, while heeseung stood in front of you—close enough that his arm rested on the counter beside your waist. 

“oh, i don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, taking a small sip from your cup while holding his gaze. heeseung grinned, leaning in a little closer and lowering his voice so only you could hear him over the loud music. 

“good. because i’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. you’re always so hard to catch alone.” his fingers lightly tapped the counter next to your hip. “what do you say? let me take you somewhere nice this valentines?”

you bit your lip, pretending to think about it—

but before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the noise. 

“yn?” 

sunghoon.

he was frowning. the usual expression on his face didn’t change much except for the tightness of his jaw, and the way his gaze flicked to heeseung’s hand near your hip.

heeseung turned his head, still smiling. “oh, hey man—”

sunghoon didn’t let him finish.

without a word, he reached out, wrapped his fingers around your waist and firmly pulled you away from the counter and away from heeseung. “come with me,” he said quietly, already leaving the kitchen.

you barely had time to shoot heeseung an apologetic smile before sunghoon guided you through the crowd, up the stairs, and into one of the empty guest rooms on the second floor. he closed the door—but didn’t lock it—the party noise instantly muffled.

“the fuck was that?” he asked, frowning and confused. “heeseung? really? you let him get that close to you?”

sunghoon took a step closer, towering over, eyes narrowed. 

“i thought we had an understanding,” he continued, laced with unfair possessiveness. “you didn’t even tell me you’d be here—then i caught you with some dude flirting?” 

before you could form a reply, his hand came up to grip your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you couldn’t wait till i take you out on valentines?”

you looked up at him, a scoff escaped you—and a small smile tugged at your lips. “so you can have fun with sooha… but i can’t do the same with heeseung?”

his jaw tightened; and for a second, he just stared at you, thumb brushing over your lower lips. he let out a low, breathy scoff, almost a laugh—but there was no humour in it. “you’re really testing me,” he murmured, clicking his tongue.

“sooha’s my girlfriend. she gets breakfast and shopping because that’s what keeps everything quiet. you…” he paused, free hand slid down to your waist where he squeezed the flesh. “you get me at night. isn’t that better? i’m about to fuck you all night and you’re gettin’ jealous over some fucking breakfast?”

he tilted your head slightly, fingers digging into your flesh. 

“don’t compare yourself to her. and don’t let another guy put his hands near you again.”

he crashed his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss, gripping your jaw tighter as he devoured your mouth. the kiss was messy and intense—tongues sliding, teeth grazing, low groans between you.

you kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his hair and tugging hard, making him groan into your mouth.

“fuuuccckkk,” he grunted between the kiss—turning and walking you backwards until your legs hut the edge of the bed. without breaking the kiss, sunghoon pushed you down onto the mattress and climbed on top of you, body pressing into the sheets. 

his hands roamed greedily—one sliding under your dress to grip your thigh, the other pinning your wrists above your head. “oh my, hngh,” you moaned softly, arching up into him as he ground his hips down against you. sunghoon bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue.

“always pissin’ me off—”

his phone suddenly started ringing on the nightstand.

sunghoon ignored it initially, lips moving down to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark as the ringing continued. “jesus—shut the fuck up…” he murmured, merely glancing at his phone. he assumed it was just one of his friends, or just anyone but—

“sunghoon, you in here—?”

jake’s voice died in his throat. jay stood right beside him, phone in his hand—both of them froze in the doorway, eyes wide as they took in the scene. 

you lying on the bed, dress hiked up, lips swollen from kissing. sunghoon on top of you, one hand under your dress, his lips glistened from saliva, hair messy from your fingers.

for a long, suffocating second, nobody moved. 

sunghoon’s head snapped up, eyes widening in genuine shock, his expression completely shattered—he was caught. fucking caught. by his own bestfriends. they weren’t supposed to fucking know that he’s not loyal to sooha. the same two guys he swore loyalty to since teenangers.

the colour drained from his face. 

jake and jay stared, wide–eyed, stunned. 

“...yn?” jake breathed out first, voice barely above a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. jay’s mouth opened, then closed—replaced by pure disbelief. instead of addressing the elephant in the room—which was sunghoon fucking cheating—your name came out first. 

the realisation hit them both at the same time—how the fuck did all of them came to know you? if jay knew you because of his affair, and jake knew you too—and sunghoon too—then were they all having an affair with you?

they’d been secretly fucking the same girl for months—?!

you, still pinned under sunghoon, felt your stomach drop.

“oh my fucking gosh…” you whispered, eyes wide, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you before you could stop it. you propped yourself up on your elbows, hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was useless. 

the shock, the absurdity, the fact that you had been playing all three of them without any of them knowing… it was all crashing down at once. 

sunghoon finally pulled his hand out from under your dress and sat up slightly. he looked between his two bestfriends, voice strained. “look—this isn’t what it looks like.”

jake let out a broken, disbelieving laugh. “you’re on top of her, dude.”

jay’s grip tightened—he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. 

“you.. and sunghoon?” his voice cracked. “how long has this been going on?”

the room was thick and silent for half a second.

then it clicked. 

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at jay—then slowly turned his head toward jake. the realisation hit him. “wait…” he muttered. “how the fuck do you know her?”

jake’s face went pale—he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “yeah… how do you know yn?”

jay’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, confusion turning into dawning horror. sunghoon sat up straighter, but not off you. all three boys were now staring directly at you.

“how do you know jay?”

“and how the hell do you know jake?”

“you and sunghoon—?”

now the focus shifted entirely on you.

you were still lying on the bed, dress rumpled, lips swollen, heart hammering in your chest. three pairs of eyes—shocked, jealous, and confused—were locked on you. 

“i—” 

you tried to sit up, tugging your dress down with shaky hands. “i—i didn’t know? ah, i swear… it just… happened? i mean—”

you were clearly flustered, words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i never thought—i didn’t know you guys knew each other—?”

before you could finish, jake reached behind him and closed the door with a soft click, locking the four of you inside. both of them walked closer to the bed, their expressions shifting from confusion to something more of—betrayal and disbelief.

jay ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short laugh. “wow… you’ve been fucking all of us?” his voice was low, eyes wide. “our own friend group?”

why didn’t they blame each other—? you thought, swallowing the lump in your throat. you guys were the asshole cheaters in the first place! so they could cheat on their girlfriends, but god forbids a girl have fun with multiple guys?

“have you been playing us the whole time? jake asked. “letting jay fuck you, me, now sunghoon pinning you down like that?”

just as you were about to open your mouth, sunghoon squished your cheeks together and slammed his lips against yours roughly—teeth clashing and grazing your lips. you whimpered into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing his shirt. 

when sunghoon finally pulled back, you grasped for air. his thumb dragged across your botton lip. “there’s no point hiding anymore, is there?”

the tension snapped. 

jay moved first, climbing onto the bed and grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him. “c’mere, baby.” jake was right behind him, kneeling on your other side. sunghoon stayed where he was, between your knees, watching as his two bestfriends started touching you.

in seconds, your dress was being yanked up and over your head. hands were everywhere—jake’s mouth on your neck, jay’s hands squeezing your tits, sunghoon’s fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your legs. 

you were panting, head spinning from the sudden overload.

“look at her,” jay murmured, voice thick as he pinched your nipple, eliciting a moan. “pretty little side chick… been taking all three of us like a whore.” jake groaned, kissing down your chest. “and we thought we were the only ones… fuck, that’s so hot.”

sunghoon gripped your jaw again, turning your face toward him. “open your mouth.”

the second you did, and he kissed you again—rough and deep—while jay and jake worked together pleasing your tits. jay’s hand wandered along your tummy—down to your bare, wet cunt. 

his fingers slid between your folds, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. “shit, so soaked.”

“fuckin’ dripping for us already,” sunghoon said, moving to give jake a space to settle between your spread legs. “turn over,” sunghoon ordered, commanding as he grabbed your hips. “on your hands and knees now, c’mon.”

your body obeyed before your brain could catch up—which shocked jake a little since with him, you were never this obedient. you were flipped onto all fours in the middle of the bed, ass up, back arched, completely exposed.

jake gripped your asscheeks, spreading them wide enough as he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly from your clit, all the way up to your dripping hole. “fuck, taste s’good,” he moaned, his cock beneath his pants twitched. he dove back in, licking and sucking messily while jay knelt in front of you. he tilted your chin up, hard cock already freed from his pants, thick and leaking. 

“open that pretty mouth, baby.”

you parted your lips and he instantly pushed the head of his cock past them, sliding deep into your warm mouth with a satisfied groan. “oh, fuuuuck… your mouth always feels s’good…”

sunghoon stayed at your side, one hand already palming and stroking his cock while the other reached underneath to rub circles on your clit as jake french–kissed your pussy. “look at you,” sunghoon murmured. “what a slut… taking all taken men at once. this what you wanted, isn’t it?”

jake hummed against your pussy and you felt the curve of his mouth forming into a smile—the vibration making your thighs quiver. jay thrusted into your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. “been screwing each of us behind the other’s backs…” jay groaned, pushing deeper until you gagged. 

“greedy little girl.”

your muffled moan around jay’s cock was the only answer they needed. 

jake was the first to pull back from between your legs, shiny with your juices. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swimming with pure need. “i’m going first,” he said, settling behind you. “been dying to fuck you again since the last time.”

sunghoon and jay didn’t argue. they simply shifted positions.

jake moved behind you, gripping your hips tightly and lining up his hard cock with your dripping entrance. without any warning or heads up, he pushed in with one deep thrust—bottoming out in a single stroke. 

“oh, fuuuck…” he groaned aloud, head falling back as your tight walls clenched around him. “still so ’ tight… missed this pussy so much.” jake started thrusting—deep strokes that rocked your body forward.

at the same time, sunghoon knelt in front of you. he grabbed your hair gently but firmly, guiding your mouth to his cock. “open up,” he ordered quietly. you obeyed, lips parting as he slid his thick length into your mouth. sunghoon let out a groan, eyes half–lidded as he watched you take him inch by inch.

jay moved to your side, kneeling close enough that his cock was right next to your face. your hand instinctively wrapped around his length, stroking his wet cock while you sucked his best friend’s. 

the room filled with wet, porno sounds—jake’s hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you from behind, the slick sounds of your mouth working sunghoon’s dick, and your hand pumping jay’s length. every now and then, jake would slap you ass—gripping, squeezing, and spreading and watched as your asshole twitched. 

“aw, pretty baby,” jay grunted, wrapping his bigger hand around yours as he guided you through it out. “taking all three of us so well, mm? perfect girl.”

next to him, sunghoon scoffed. jake panted and runted like a dog—gripping your hips harder as he pounded into you. “oh—hah—you feel so good, oh fuck, i missed this so much—missed you so much.”

sunghoon glanced at jake before his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your head as he picked up his pace fucking your mouth. “that’s it… suck me just like that—how you’d do with all the other guys, babe.”

jay groaned, hips twitching into your fist. “yeah—? do you have other guys you’re fucking aside us, yn?”

you instantly shook your head as much as you could with sunghoon’s cock buried in your mouth, a desperate, muffled, “mm—mm” vibrating around him. 

“right,” sunghoon clicked his tongue. the memory of you getting hit on by heeseung playing in the back of his head. if you were able to hide jake and jay from him for months—who knew who else?

every thrust from jake pushed you forward onto sunghoon’s cock, forcing you to take him even deeper down your throat. you were gagging around him, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth but you kept sucking.

jake’s rhythm started to falter. his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully as he fucked you harder from behind. “hah—i’m close, oh god,” he groaned. “wanna fill you up—i can fill you up, right? hngh—you’ll let me?”

he slammed into you a few more times, deep and desperate, burying himself to the hilt. now—jay and sunghoon never knew jake was someone who’s into this but who were they to judge? the contrast between how you were with jake, sunghoon, and jay made them want to laugh.

with jay, you’re treated as the princess of the princess—sweet, gentle, kind words—like you’re the girlfriend. with jake, you got to order and command—and he’s always so fucking into being called a good boy. with sunghoon? with sunghoon—you’re the brat that needed some punishment. 

you nodded your head and that was all jake needed. 

“hah—cumming—” he rasped. you felt the first hot spurts of his cum flood deep inside you. the puppy boy kept grinding into you, milking every drop as he creampied you, his cock twitching. a low whine escaped your throat, muffled.

when jake finally pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaked from your cunt.

“next,” jake panted, voice hoarse as he moved aside.

they filled you onto your back. 

the player immediately took his place between your legs, but instead of fucking you missionary, he turned you slightly onto your side. he lifted your top leg, hooking it over his hip, and instantly slid his throbbing cock into your cum–filled cunt in one thrust. 

“ah—! jay!” you moaned aloud, followed by jay’s groan. the warmth from jake’s cum wasn’t helping the situation at all. it felt so fucking good. “she’s so slippery with your cum, jake… so filthy.”

he started fucking you from the side—deep, rolling thrusts that let him hit every sensitive spot. you’re beyond embarrassed at this point. your creamy pussy that gushes cum with each thrust, how exposed and bare and wet you were for the other two boys to see. 

you wondered if this was the consequences of your actions. 

jake moved up beside your head, still breathing hard. he groped your tits greeding—how he loved them—squeezing and kneading, pinching your sweaty nipples as he leaned down to kiss and bite along your neck.

‘hngh—yn, i love these so much,” he muffled, sucking and tugging at your boobs. “so soft, you’re so squishy.” 

sunghoon shifted to your other side, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. his tongue slid against yours while jay continued fucking you from the side, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into your creampied pussy filling the room.

sunghoon kissed you like he couldn’t bear not doing anything while the other two boys had their fun. he was almost annoyed and pissed that they just had to interrupt him having you all to himself earlier. 

“is this what you like?” jake murmured against your neck, his hands never stopping roaming. he groped your breasts, rolled your nipples between his fingers, then slid one hand down to rub your clit in lazy circles while jay thrusted into you. “taking jay’s dick right after i filled you up… you’re so hot, yn.”

“hngh—jay, oh fuck, you’re so big—” you moaned into sunghoon’s mouth in which he instantly shut you up. jay groaned, picking up the pace, hips snapping harder. “fuck. i can feel your cum every time i push in, jake. poor sweetheart, do you like this, baby?”

sunghoon pulled back from the kiss just enough to let you breathe, lips brushing yours. “answer him while he’s fucking you.”

your body trembled between the three guys as you answered: “yes, yes, yesyesyes—! i—i love all three of you, oh my fuck!” you cried out, chasing sunghoon’s lips as you began sucking his bottom lip. you moaned shamelessly into his mouth while jay’s cock dragged against your walls.  

“we love you too.”

behind you, jay smirked—and jake couldn’t help from smiling. 

“show us how much you love it, please?” jake murmured against your nipple, his fingers never slowing down—pressing and rubbing your clit. “squirt for us—make a mess all over jay’s dick.”

he began rubbing harder—and the pressure coiled fast. too fast.

before you knew it, your thighs started shaking uncontrollably. your back arched sharply as jake’s fingers and jay’s cock worked you together. “oh, i’m gonna—!”

you didn’t even get to finish. 

with a loud, broken cry, you squired around jay’s cock. clear fluid gushed out of you, soaking jay’s hips, the sheets, and jake’s hand. your whole body convulsed, pussy clenching and pulsing violently. 

“fuck—!” jay groaned, eyes rolling back as your walls squeezed him like a vice. the feeling of you squiring all over him while still full of jake’s cum pushed him over the edge. without any warning, he buried himself deep and came—thick ropes of cum shooting right inside. 

he kept grinding into you through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper as your squirt continued to leak around his cock. 

sunghoon watched the while thing, still kissing you through your high, swallowing every broken moan and whimper. 

when jay finally stilled, panting against your shoulder, the room was filled with heavy breathing and the obscene sound of cum and squirt dripping onto the sheets. jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your nipple while his fingers slowed on your oversensitive clit.

“good girl…” jay murmured, kissing your temple. “such a perfect girl.”

jay pulled out slowly, another mix of squirt and both their cum leaking out of your used cunt like whipped cream, jay smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. 

“my turn.”

sunghoon didn’t waste a single second.

he moved between your legs, pushing them wide open as he settled on top of you in full missionary, his frame caged you in, eyes locked onto yours that always made your tummy flip. without warning, he slid two fingers deep into your cum–filled pussy, curcling them instantly.

“hah—hoonie—!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as he started fingering you—fast and deep, wet sounds loud and filthy as he stirred jake and jay’s cum inside you. “feel that, babe? he muttered. “so full already—yet so slutty for more.”

he pumped his fingers harder, scissoring them, pushing the mixed loads deeper while his thumb rub your swollen clit. your legs trembled around him, overstimulation making tears prick.

only when you were whimpering and gasping did sunghoon finally pull his fingers out. he brought them up to your mouth.

“clean ‘em.”

you obediently opened your lips, sucking his fingers clean of the messy mix of cum while he watched. then, he lined up his thick, needy cock—and pushed into you in one deep thrust, slow enough to let you feel every inch and veins of him. 

a broken moan tore from your throat.

sunghoon bottomed out, holding your hips. “shit… so warm and wet,” he breathed, and began to move. his thrusts were hard and deliberate, hips snapping forward with every stroke, driving jake and jay’s cum even deeper.

he kept you in missionary the whole time—face to face, eyes locked, his body pressed flush against yours. one hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. the other slid up to wrap gently around your throat, holding you there.

“open your mouth.” 

you obeyed instantly, lips paring, tongue slightly out naturally.

sunghoon leaned in first. he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drop slowly onto your tongue, watching with a smirk as it landed right on your tongue. jake moved in simultaneously, hovering above you as he spat directly into your open mouth, a thick string of saliva mixing with sunghoon’s. jay too—tilted your head upward gently before spitting into your mouth as well. 

all three of their spit mixed together on your tongue—so fucking humiliating in the best way. 

“swallow, baby, c’mon,” jay murmured, kissing your cheek. sunghoon tightened his grip on your throat just a little, you swallowed the thick saliva, throat bobbing under his palm. the taste of all three of them made your pussy clench hard around sunghoon’s cock.

“fuck, she just squeezed me,” sunghoon groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. “such a nasty little cumslut.”

jake chuckled, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth as he palmed your tits. jay’s hand slid down to rub your clit as sunghoon pounded into you deeply—”nasty little girl, look at you,” jay murmured, caressing your hair.

“you love being used like this? who taught you to be so slutty, baby, hm?”

sunghoon’s eyes never left yours—your half–lidded, crossed, rolled to the back glossy eyes. he fucked you relentlessly, wet squelching sounds of his cock stirring the mixed cum inside you filling the room. his hand stayed around your throat as he fucked your cunt like a fleshlight, claming while jake had his fun with your tits, and jay continued teasing your clit from the side.

you were a complete mess—trembling, moaning, drooling… barely got to focus on the moving ceiling above. your tits bounced and jiggled with every thrust—a sight jake could cum alone. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grew sharper, deeper, and more desperate. his grip on you throat tightened just a fraction as he groaned against your lips. “fuck… ‘m cummin’—”

he straightened up, canines digging into his bottom lip as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. the hardest he’s ever ejaculated. thick, hot ropes of cum flooded and washed over deep inside you, mixing with the cum from jake and jay before. 

as usual, he kept grinding into you, pushing every drop as deep as possible while his cock twitched inside your overused, overfilled pussy.

at the same time, the two boys kneeled on either side of your head—jerking themselves off furiously above you, breathing heavily. “shit, shit, shit,” jay rasped, thick spurts of cum landing across your tits and collarbones. 

“oh, gosh, yn, please,” jake whimpered, following just right after as he painted your face and chest with more warm cum. their softened cocks rested on your chest, with jay’s twitching again as it rubbed your nipple.

you lay there, panting, body covered in their cum—tits glistening like you milked out semen, pussy leaking a creamy mix of all three of them, throat marked from sunghoon’s hands and jake’s bites, lips swollen from jay’s kisses. 

the room was silent except for heavy breathing and panting.

sunghoon pulled out—agonisingly slow—watching his thick cum drip and burst out from your stretched hole. fuck—what a sight, he thought. he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time. your pussy twitched and spasmed around nothing, thighs trembling with orgasm as you shivered. 

jay leaned to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. jake’s softened cock caressed your other cheek as the owner pumped the mixed cum back inside your puffy pussy with his fingers. sunghoon pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips. 

“you’re our secret girl now.”

you lay between them—as the three sworn, soulmates bestfriends who used to swear they had no secrets finally agreed on one secret: they would share their perfect little side chick—away from their girlfriends, and away from all the other guys out there.

The air in the chemistry lab smelled like bleach and rotting dreams. You'd made it. One final bell between you and never seeing Sim Jaeyun or Park Sunghoon again.

Your graduation gown was already packed. Your transfer paperwork was finalized. A public school across the city, where your mother's waitress salary could barely afford the tuition but where their names wouldn't echo in the hallways.

You were almost at the main doors when a hand closed around your wrist.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

Jake's voice was a low-purr now, no longer the cracking taunt of freshman year. He'd grown into his family's money–taller, broader,  with a sharp jawline that made teachers overlook the cruelty in his eyes. Sunghoon stood slightly behind him, a silent, beautiful shadow. They were both in uniform, but theirs were tailored, the fabric expensive where yours was threadbare.

“I have to go.” You said, voice barely a whisper 

“We saw you.” Sunghoon said. His voice was softer and almost melodic. It made the words worse. “Talking to that scholarship kid by the lockers. Kim something. You smiled at him.”

Your blood ran cold. “We were just—”

“Just what?” Jake tightened his grip, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. “You know what happens when you smile at other people.”

You did. The memory of beomgyu, the guy from your geometry study group they'd cornered last semester, flash behind your eyes. The sound of his nose breaking. The way they'd make you watch.

“It wasn't like that.” You pleaded. 

“We'll see.” Jake said.

They'd dragged to the unused music wing. The school had poured money into a new athletics center, leaving this part of the building to decay. Sunghoon kicked open the door to the practice room, the piano inside covered in a dusty sheet.

Kim Minho was already there, slumped against the wall, one eye swollen shut, lip split and bleeding onto his white shirt. He looked at you and you saw shame in his eyes–shame that he couldn't protect you, shame that he was seeing you like this.

“Watch.” Jake commanded, shoving you to your knees on the dusty floor.

What followed wasn't a fight. It was a systematic dismantling. Sunghoon held Minho while Jake hit him–not wild punches, but precise, brutal strikes to ribs, the stomach, places that wouldn't show in graduation photos. Each impact was dull, wet thud. Minho stopped crying out after the third blow. He just grunted, a wounded animal sound.

“Stop.” You sobbed. “Please. I'm sorry. I'll do anything, just stop.”

Jake paused, chest heaving. He looked from Minho's broken form to you, kneeling in your pleated skirt. A slow, terrible smile spread across his face.

“Anything?” He repeated.

Sunghoon let Minho slump to the floor. He wasn't unconscious but he wasn't moving either. His breath came in ragged, wet hitches.

Jake walks towards you. Sunghoon followed, closing the door and sliding the lock with a final echoing click.

“Take off your shirt.” Jake said.

Your hands trembled. The buttons on your blouse felt impossibly small. The air in the room was cold against your skin as you let fabric fall. You crossed your arms over your chest, your white bra feeling flimsy as tissue paper. 

Sunghoon made a low sound in his throat. “Look at that. All this time.”

Jake unbuckled his belt. The sound was loud in the silent room. “You know what to do.”

You didn't. You really didn't. You have watched things here and there or heard about it only. But the reality upon seeing him–thick, already hard, the tip flushed and leaking–made your stomach turn. The smell of his cologne, something expensive and woody, mixed with the coppery tang of Minho's blood.

“Jake i–”

His hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head forward. “Open.”

You gagged immediately. The stretch was painful, intrusive. He didn't thrust, just held you there, his grip on your hair keeping you in place as you choked, tears and saliva leaking from the corner of your mouth. 

“Eyes on me.” He commanded, his voice strained.

You look up. His eyes were dark, glazed with pleasure. Besides him, Sunghoon had freed himself, stroking slowly as he watched. “For a virgin. She's taking it so well.” He mused, as if commenting on the weather.

When Jake finished, he pulled out, releasing your hair. You collapsed forward, coughing the taste of him sour in your mouth. Before you could recover. Sunghoon was there, tilting your chin up.

“My turn.”

It was worse, because you knew what to expect. The ache in your jaw, the helpless choking, the sheer violation of it. You cried in earnest then, the sob making you gag harder, sunghoon groaned, his free hand coming up to squeeze your breast over your bra, his thumb rubbing roughly over your nipple.

“Good girl.” He whispered, and the praise was more degrading than any insult.

When it was over, they tucked themselves away, adjusting their uniforms as if they'd just come from a meeting. Jake looked down at you, a crumpled half- naked mess on the floor.

“Consider that our final warning.” He said. 

Sunghoon tossed your blouse at you. It landed on your head. “Get dressed. And if you ever talk to another guy again.” He glanced at Minho's still form. “We'll know.”

You left the school and never went back again. You never reported the incident. You knew their families owned the school board, the local police precinct, the newspaper. You were a scholarship student. Kim Minho was a scholarship student. You were replaceable. They were untouchable. 

You packed your trauma away with your uniform, believing distance was a cure. You were wrong. 

[♡]

Six years later, the waiting room of Sim Global Innovations smelled of lemon cleanser and quiet wealth. You smoothed your skirt for the tenth time. Your blazer was expensive, bought on credit you no longer had room to spare—immaculate, unforgiving, and necessary.The job–executive assistant to the CEO–paid twice what you made at logistics firm. Enough to finally start chipping away at the mountain of medical debt from your mother's heart surgery. 

You'd researched sim jaeyun. The photos showed a man, not a boy. Sharp-suited, devastatingly handsome. There was no hint of the sadistic teenager in those polished smiles. Maybe he'd changed. Maybe money had smoothed his edges. Maybe.

“Miss Y/L/N? He'll see you now.”

His office was a monument to glass and steel, with a view of the city that felt like owning it. He stood at the window, his back to you, a silhouette of power.

“Thank you for coming.” He said, turning. 

Time folded in on itself.

The eyes were the same. Dark, intense, missing boyish malice but gaining something heavier, more calculated. He looked you up and down, a slow appraising sweep that felt like being undressed.

“Have a seat.”

The interview was a blur of standard questions. Your qualifications, your experience. He was professional. Then he leaned back, steepling his fingers.

“You went to Hansong high?”

A block of ice settled in your chest. “For a year, but I transferred. “

“I know. I was a student there.” He tilted his head, studying you. Something flickered in his eyes. A spark of recognition, then confusion, then….a slow dawning hunger. “Wait, I know you.”

You forced a laugh. It sounded brittle. “I don't think so. It was a big school.”

“No.” He stood up,walking around his desk to lean against the front of it, looming over you. “No. It wasn't. And you. You had the locker by the east stairwell. You flinched when anyone raised their voice.” He squinted and then it clicked. The predator recognizes its old prey. A slow, terrifying smile touched his lips. “Well, I'll be damned. The little mouse from the music room.”

Your heart stopped. The air vanished from your lungs.

“It's ….it's you.” He murmured. 

“In the flesh.” His smile widened, showing perfect teeth. “All grown up. And applying to work for me? What are the odds?” he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial 

whisper that reeked of expensive aftershave. “I looked for you, you know. After you vanished. Asked around. But you just…poof. Gone. Over a little….extracurricular activity.” He tsked. “I didn't expect you'd transfer just over sucking couple of cocks.”

The vulgarity, delivered in that smooth, boardroom voice, was a shockwave. The professional veneer was gone, stripped away in an instant. The boy from the practice room was right there, in a Brioni suit. 

“I…I should go.” You stammered, standing on shaky legs.

“Sit down.” The command was quiet, absolute. “This job is yours. The salary is 20% more than  advertised. Full benefits. Your mother…she's not well, is she? I had HR pull your background check. Hospital bills can be so crushing.”

It was a threat wrapped in a gift. A glided cage, and he was holding the door open. 

You thought of your mother, of the collection notices, of the way her hand shook when she looked at the statements. You sat back down.

The smile he gave you was one of pure,unadulterated victory. “Smart girl. You start Monday. “

The first week was a surreal tense dream. Jake was… courteous. He called you ‘miss y/l/n’. He thanked you for the coffee. He didn't mention high school. You started to breathe, to believe in the impossible–that he'd grown up, that the power had mellowed him.

It was a lie and you were a fool for believing it.

It started small. A Monday morning, you were organizing files in the supply closet, a narrow room lined with shelves.

“Need something, sir?” you asked, trying to squeeze past him in the doorway. 

He didn't move. Instead, he shifted, his chest brushing against yours, his hip pressing into you. You were pinned between his body and shelf. You could feel the warmth of him,the solid muscles beneath his dress shirt.

“Just looking for the new printer cartridge.” He said, his voice casual, but his eyes were on your lips. His hand came up, not to touch you, but to reach for a box above your head. His arm caged you in. He lingered, his breath stirring your hair. “You smell different than you did in high school. Less..scared.”

He pulled back, taking the box and left without another word. Your knees were trembling. 

One day you heard him saying familiar name ‘sunghoon. He was on call with him. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, you just happened to be there.

Sunghoon.

The name was a bucket of cold water. You'd never asked if they were still in touch. The idea of seeing him again, of those cold, assessing eyes on you, made your hands slick with sweat.

Unfortunately, sunghoon appeared the following Thursday. You were delivering a stack of contracts to Jake's office when you heard a smooth, familiar laugh from inside. Your steps faltered.

“Come in.” Jake called.

Park Sunghoon was draped in the visitor's chair like he owned it. He'd grown even more strikingly handsome, his beauty almost sevre. His suit was dove grey, impeccable. His eyes landed on you, and for a moment, there was nothing. Then recognition, slow and delighted.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” He drawled. “The little runaway. “

You set the contracts on Jake's desk with numb fingers.

“Sunghoon, you remember our new EA?” Jake said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“How could I forget?” Sunghoon's gaze traveled over you, from head to toe. It felt like being licked by something cold. “You've filled out nicely. Still working the virgin vibe, I see.”

Heat flooded your face.

“The coffee, miss Y/L/N.” Jake reminded you, sweet as poison. 

You fled.

When you returned, balancing the tray, their conversation halted. They were both watching the door, waiting for you. 

“Here you are, sir, Mr. Park.” You set the cups down, careful not to touch their fingers.

As you straightened, Sunghoon's hand shot out patting your backside with a loud, stinging smack. It wasn't playful. It was possessive and demeaning.

“Still a great ass.” He said to Jake, as if you weren't standing right there. “For a virgin, she gave a really good blow job. Good tits too.”

The world tilted. The casual cruelty, the way he reduced the most traumatic moment of your life to the critique of your sexual performance, stole the air from the room.

Jake chuckled, sipping his latte. “Don't embarrass her, hoon. She's our professional employee now.” 

But his eyes said otherwise. 

The harassment became your new normal, a daily degradation you had to swallow with a neutral face.

“Miss Y/l/n, close the door.” You obeyed standing before Jake's desk.

“Mr. Park firm, Park consolidated, is our new lead partner on the Aerion project. He'll be in office frequently for meetings. I'm assigning you as his liaison while he's here. Any tasks he requires, you handle.”

“Sir. My job description–”

“Has just been expanded.” He interrupted, his voice losing its false warmth. “Your salary has been adjusted accordingly. A… hardship bonus, let's call it. For your mother's continuing care.” He leaned forward. “Do you have a problem with that?” 

The threat was crystal clear. Your mother's health versus your dignity.

“No, sir.” 

“Good.,” he smirked.

[♡]

The next day, you stood in a sleek, empty conference room.  The door opened. Not Jake. Him. Park Sunghoon.

“Well what a pleasant sight.” He said, his voice smooth, quiet baritone that slithered down your spine. 

He simply closed the door behind him with a soft definitive click. The sound echoed in the silent room.

“M-Mr. Park. Welcome. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water?” you hated the tremor in your voice. 

He walked a slow circle around you, his gaze a physical touch. “Y/n. Six years. You have filled out. Nicely. “

You flinched. “I'm here to assist with your meeting agenda. Mr. Sim should b–”

“Jake's running late. Told me to get started with you.” He stopped in front you, too close. The clean, citrus and sandalwood scent of his cologne was suffocating. “Jake told me you have been a really good girl.”

You took a step back, hitting the edge of the polished conference table. “I'm just doing my job.”

“Are you?” A slow, cruel smile touched his lips. “Jake showed me your file. Your mother's condition is…costly. It's admirable,  your dedication. If misguided. “ he reached out, before you could react, his thumb was stroking the line of your jaw. His touch was ice-cold. “You left quite an impression, you know.” His gaze dropped to your chest, concealed by a modest blouse and blazer. “They were perfect, handfuls. I've wondered how they have matured.”

Revulsion, thick and hot, climbed your throat. “Don't touch me.”

His hand snapped to your waist, gripped hard, yanking you against him. The air left your lungs in a shocked gasp. “Don't?” He whispered, his mouth near your ear. “You're not in a position to give orders, sweetheart. You're a glorified office slut on salary. Now, be a good girl and get me a coffee. Black. And take this ridiculous jacket off. It's stifling here.”

Tears of shame and fury pricked your eyes but you blinked them back. You pulled away, your body moving on autopilot, the survival instincts from high school roaring back to life. You shrugged off your blazer, leaving you in a blouse and walked on unsteady legs to the coffee station in the corner.

You felt his eyes on you the entire time. As you poured the coffee back to him, you heard his footsteps. You went rigid, the carafe trembling in your hand. 

His presence materialized behind you, a wall of expensive fabric and menace. His hands landed on your hips, pulling you back against the hard line of his body. You could feel unmistakable evidence of his arousal. 

“Still so jumpy.” He murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. One hand slid around to your stomach, splaying possessively, while the other came up to fondle your breast over your blouse, his fingers pinching your nipple through the fabric. A sharp, unwelcome jolt through you. “See? Just as perfect. Jake said you have been pretending to be a good little employee. But we know what you really are. Don’t we?” 

“Please.” You choked out, staring blankly at the artwork on the wall. “Someone could come in.”

“The floor is cleared. Jake's orders.” His hand left your breast, and slid down over your skirt, cupping you between your legs. You jerked, a strangled sound escaping you. He pressed harder, his fingers digging in. “Our little secret. For now on.”

The conference room door flew open.

Jake stood there, a smirk playing on his lips. He didn't look surprised. He looked pleased. 

“Starting without me?” Jake's voice was light, teasing.

Sunghoon didn't move his hand, just turned his head slightly, his grip on you tightening. “Just getting reacquainted with the liaison. She was getting me coffee.”

“I see that.” Jake strode in, closing the door again. His eyes raked over you, pinned between sunghoon and counter. “She makes a good pot, doesn't she? Among other things.”

The meeting that followed was a special kind of hell. You were made to sit, legs tightly crossed, blazer forgotten on a chair, taking notes as two men discussed merges and acquisitions. All while the sunghoon gaze burned into you. Every few minutes, under the table, his polished longer loafer would nudge your ankle, then slide up your calf. Once, when you reached for your water glass, his hand shot out and squeezed your thigh, his finger biting in, a silent warning.

When the formal part ended, Jake leaned back. “Miss Y/n, Sunghoon needs the projection files from the marketing server. The secure one. Walk him down to the Tech center. Help him access it.”

It was a transparent ploy. The tech center was secluded, ĺow traffic wing, especially after house, which it nearly was.

“Of course, Mr. Sim.” You whispered. 

The walk down the long, silent hallway felt like a death march. Sunghoon walked beside you, his stride leisurely. As you turned the corner into an empty corridor lined with server rooms, he grabbed your arm and shoved you into a dimly lit printer alcove, crowded with spare toner and paper reams.

He crowded you against the storage cabinet, his body caging you in. The polite corporate mask was gone, replaced by a raw, mean boy from the past. Or maybe Sunghoon never tried to pretend to be like Jake.

“You have been avoiding my eyes all afternoon.” He said, his voice low, nasty rasp. He gripped your chin, forcing your face up. “Look at me when I'm talking to you.”

You met his gaze, your own burning with hatred. 

“Better.” His other hand went to the waistband of your skirt, popping the button, sliding the zipper down. “Jake says you still jump when he touches you. That you still cry. Is that true?” 

“Go to hell.”You spat.

He laughed, a short humourless sound. His hand pushed into underwear, his fingers cold and intrusive. You cried out, trying to twist away but he slammed you harder against the cabinet, the edge digging into your back.

“Still so tight.” He mused, as his finger pushed inside you. The invasion was a dry, painful violation that had nothing to do with pleasure. Tears finally spilled over, tracing hot paths down your cheeks. “Just like I remember all those years and no one has touched this? Pathetic. 

He worked his fingers cruelly, watching your face contort in pain and shame. “You belong to us. You always did. Running away just made the chase more fun.” He leaned in, his breath hot on your face. “And now we have caught you. We're not letting go. You're going to be our little office pet. Our stress relief. Whenever we want. However we want.”

He removed his fingers, glistening with your unwanted wetness and wiped them slowly over your silk blouse, right over your heart. The stain was a brand.

“Now.” He said, redoing your zipper with chilling tenderness. “Fix your face. Get the file. And meet us back in Jake's office.”

He stepped back, adjusting his suit jacket, looking every bit the pristine executive. You slid down the cabinet, knees giving away, clutching your ruined blouse, sobs wrenching silently from your chest.

As he walked aways, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. His expression was one of pure, unadulterated possession. 

“Oh and y/n.” He said, his voice echoing softly in the empty hall. “The next time a male intern so much as smiles at you. I won't use my fingers.”

He disappeared around the corner, leaving you shattered on the floor. The sterile hum of servers was the only sound, a mockery lullaby for your new reality.

[♡]

Niki from accounting, a sweet guy fresh out of college, stopped by your desk to clarify a billing code. He was leaning over your monitor, pointing at the screen. When the shadow fell over you both.

“Is there a problem?”

Jake's voice was deceptively calm. Niki straightened quickly, flushing.

“N-no Mr. Sim..just a query about Aerion.”

“Miss y/l/n can handle her own queries.” Jake said, his eyes fixed on you. “Go back to your department, niki.”

Once niki scurried away, Jake placed his hand on your desk, caging you in.

“What did I tell you about fraternizing? He asked, softly.

“You didn't tell me anything.” You whispered,  defiance sparking for a second.

His hand snaked out, grabbing your thigh under the desk, his fingers digging in painfully high, too close. You jolted.

“He's not paying your mother's bills, is he?” he hissed, his face close to yours. The scent of him, expensive cologne from high school filled your nose. “I am. Every fucking penny. That means this.” His grip tightened. “Is mine. Your time is mine. Your attention is mine. Do you need a reminder of what happens when you forget that?” 

The ghost of Minho's broken face swarms before your eyes. You shook your head, tears of shame and rage welling up.

“Good.” He released you, standing up and straightening his cufflinks. “Now Sunghoon needs those TPS reports collected before 4. Look busy.”

With that he walked away.

[♡]

The email came at 7:45 PM on a Friday. The office was a tomb of empty desks and humming computers.

From: Sim Jaeyun

Subject: Urgent- home office

Miss Y/L/N,

I've left a crucial folio for the Monday merger at my penthouse. I need it reviewed and annotated tonight. I'll text you the address. Be there by 9 PM. 

J.S

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard. I can't, it's inappropriate. It's Friday night.

But the unspoken words hung in the digital silence. Your mother's next payment is due Monday. Do you want to explain to the hospital why it's late?

You typed a single word: understood.

His penthouse occupied the entire top floor of the tallest residential tower in the city. The private elevator opened directly into a living room of minimalist opulence–concrete, steel, floor‐to‐ceiling windows showcasing the city's glittering veins.

He was waiting, dressed in dark jeans and a tight black sweater that hugged his shoulders. He held two glasses of red wine.

“You made it.” He handed you a glass. You took it, your fingers brushing his. “Relax. The file can wait a minute. You look tense. “

“I should just get the file and go, Mr.Sim.”

“Jake.” He corrected, stepping closer. “We're not at the office now.” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was intimate, claiming. “You know, I've thought about you a lot over the years. Wondered where you went. What you were doing.” 

You took a step back, hitting the edge of a cold, marble console. “It was a long time ago” 

“Was it?” he followed, closing the distance. His body was a wall in front of you. “It feels like yesterday to me. The look on your face in that room. The way you cried.” His voice dropped husky. “It was the hottest thing I'd ever seen.”

Revulsion twisted your gut. You tried to slide away, but he caught your wrist. 

“Please Jake, don't.”

“Don't what?” He leaned in, his lips a breath from yours. “Don't take what's mine? You walked back into my life. You took my money. You think that doesn't come with strings.”

The elevator chimed softly. The door opened, and Sunghoon stepped out. He was in a tailored coat, his cheeks flushed slightly from the cold night air. He saw you pressed against the console, Jake holding your wrist and a slow predatory grin spread across his face.

“Starting the party without me?” he shrugged off his coat, revealing a cashmere sweater. “I see the little mouse is all grown up and still playing hard to get.” 

“She was just reminiscing about old times.” Jake said, but he still didn't let go of your wrist.

Sunghoon walked over, his eyes drinking you in. “I remember how tight your cunt felt around my fingers. How you shook.” He took your free hand, and placed it against the front of his trousers. You felt the hard, thick length of him through his trousers. “See? I remember very well.” 

Panic, pure and electric shot through you. You tried yanking your hand free, but Jake's grip was iron.

“Let me go!” 

“Shhh.” Jake murmured, his other hand coming up to stroke your cheek. It was a grotesque parody of tenderness. “You're going to be good for us, just like before. Only this time, we don't have to hide in a dusty music room.” 

Sunghoon's hand slid from your hand to your hip, pulling you away from Jake and against him. His mouth found your neck, biting down on the tender skin where your pulse hammered. “Missed this.” he growled against your skin. 

“Wait.” Jake said, his eyes gleaming with a new dark fire. He looked at Sunghoon. “She's still a virgin.”

Sunghoon pulled back, eyebrows raised. He looked at you, then back at Jake and a dark hungry laugh escaped him. “You're joking.” Sunghoon has his own doubts but a woman as attractive as you can’t be a virgin right? No wonder you felt so tight around his fingers on that day.

“I'm not.” Jake's gaze burned into you. “All these years…you saved it. For who? For us?” The concept seemed to intoxicate him. “You saved yourself for us.” 

“No.” You choked out. “It's not like that.”

But they weren't listening. The revelation had flipped a switch, turning their cruel nostalgia into something ravenous, primal.

“Mine first.” Jake said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I found her again.”

Sunghoon's jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod. “Fine, but I get her after all. All of her.”

What followed was not a seduction. It was a reclamation. 

Jake dragged you, struggling weakly, to a bedroom dominated by a huge, low platform bed. He threw you onto it. The duvet was cool silk.

“Take off your clothes.” It was the same command from six years ago, but his voice was deeper, more sure.

When you didn't move fast enough, Sunghoon was there, his hands efficient and cold. He unbuttoned your blouse, popped the clasp of your bra. His thumb rubbed over your nipples, pinching them hard enough to make you cry out.

“Good.” Jake muttered, ripping off his sweater. His torso is carved, a testament to personal trainers and privilege. “So responsive.”

They both undressed and the sight of them–both fully erect, both solely focused on you–was paralyzing. This was planned, inevitable.

Jake climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. He pushed them apart, his gaze fixed on the core of you. “Look at this. Untouched. All for me.”

He didn't kiss you. He didn't prepare you. He spat into his hand, slicked himself roughly and pushed the head of his cock against your entrance.

“Please.” You begged, tears streaming sideways into your hair. “Please, jake don't–”

He shoved in.

The pain was white-hot, tearing, a violation so complete it stole your breath. You screamed, a raw sound.

He stilled, buried inside you, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. His eyes were wide, dark with a frenzy of possession. “Fuck.” He breathed. “So fucking tight. All for me.” He began to move, shallow brutal thrusts that made you sob with each one.

Besides you, Sunghoon watched, stroking himself. He leaned over, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking until it was sore and peaked. His hand replaced his mouth, pinching and twisting as Jake drove into you.

“That's it. That's it.” Jake grunted, his pace increasing. He was lost in it, in the conquest. “You're mine now. Really mine. My virgin. My girl.”

The pain began to morph, mixed with a treacherous, unwanted slickness your body produced out of sheer trauma. Jake groaned, feeling it.

“She's getting wet.” he panted to Sunghoon. “She likes it.”

“She knows her place.” Sunghoon agreed, his voice strained. He moved down the bed, pushing your legs wider apart from Jake. You felt his tongue, hot and flat, licking through the mess where Jake was joined to you. The intimacy of it, the degradation was a new low. You squeezed your eyes shut. 

“Look at me.” Jake ordered, grabbing your chin. “Look at me while I take what's mine.” 

You opened your eyes. His face was a mask of ecstatic ownership. He was close. His thrusts became erratic, pounding. 

“Gonna come inside you.” He gasped, “Gonna fill you up. Put my baby in you. Would you like that? Being the mother of my child? Having my money, my name, forever?” 

The words were a nightmare. You shook your head weakly.

“Too late.”He snarled, and with a final deep grind, he came. You felt the hot, foreign rush of him inside you, claiming you in the most fundamental way possible. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, his weight crushing, his breath hot on your neck.

He pulled out, rolling off. You were exposed, used, dripping. 

Before you could even process the emptiness, Sunghoon was moving. He pushed your limb legs apart.

“My turn.”

He didn't ask. He just pushed in. The stretch was different, another layer of violation. He was rougher, angrier, as if furious he hadn't been first. He fucked you with a punishing rhythm, one hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back.

“You remember this, don't you?” he hissed in your ear. “you remember taking me in your mouth? You're taking me better now, Deeper.” 

Jake recovered beside you, his hand roaming over your stomach, your breasts. He seemed fascinated by the sight of a sunghoon moving inside you, by your complete submission. 

“Look at her.” Jake murmured, his fingers tracing the bite marks on your breast. “She's perfect.” 

Sunghoon's pace became frantic. He released your hair, his hand gripping your hips, slamming into you so hard that the bedframe knocked against the wall. 

“Gonna breed you too.” He grunted, a vicious echo of Jake. “Let you figure out which one of us is the father. Wouldn't that be fun?” 

He came with a choked shout, pumping into you, adding his release to Jake's already leaking from you.

Silence, broken only by their heavy breathing and your shattered sobs.

Sunghoon pulled out. You curl onto your side, a broken doll. The physical pain was deep, throbbing. The emotional devastation was absolute. 

Jake got up first. You heard the shower turn on, sunghoon stayed, his hand stroking your bare back, a mockery of aftercare.

“You did well.” He said, his voice back to its cool detached tone. “Better than high school.”

Jake returned, towel around his waist. He looked at you, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Get cleaned up. There's a guest bath down the hall.” 

You didn't move.

His expressions hardened. “Now, y/n  unless you want me to carry you.”

The use of your first name, now, after everything, was its own violation. You forced your battered body to move, clutching the silk sheet to your chest. You stumbled to the bathroom, locking the door. In the mirror, a stranger stared back–mascara smudged, lips swollen, neck and breasts mottled with bruises and bite marks. You were ruined.

When you emerged, wearing your torn clothes, they were in the living room, drinking whiskey. They looked like two kings after a successful hunt.

“You did well, love.” Jake’s voice was a soft purr as he strode toward you, making your breath hitch. He leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a mockery of a kiss. When you didn’t open your mouth, he bit your lower lip—sharp and insistent—forcing a gasp from you. His tongue slid inside, claiming your mouth with a slow, possessive sweep. It lasted only seconds, but it felt like hours, another violation dressed as affection.

He pulled back and stroked your cheek with his thumb, a gesture tender enough to make your stomach turn. It was the exact opposite of the way they had manhandled you just minutes before.

“A car will take you home,” Sunghoon said, not bothering to look at you as he straightened his cufflinks. “We’ll see you at the office. You’ll be taking the minutes.”

Just like that, you were dismissed.

You were ushered into the elevator, then back out into the night—a fundamentally changed person. The girl who had walked into that penthouse was gone. In her place was what they had made you: theirs.

[♡]

Monday morning you sat at your desk, every movement was a painful reminder. The high-necked blouse didn't quite cover the bruise on your neck. Jake strode out of his office, sunghoon at his side. They both paused by your desk. 

Jake dropped a small, velvet box next to your keyboard. “A little something for your….dedication,” he said, loud enough for nearby interns to hear. 

Inside was a pair of diamond studs, extravagant and cold.

Sunghoon leaned down, as if to examine them. His lips brushed your ear. “Wear them. So everyone knows who you belong to.”

He straightened up and looked at Jake. “So, the fertility center investment? I think it's a solid move. Growing market.”

Jake's eyes stayed on you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. I'm very interested in…family planning. Long term Investments.”

They walked away, their laughter trailing behind them.

You looked down at the diamonds, then at the hospital bill on your screen–partially paid, with a new, zero-balance alert. The price was etched on your skin, in your body, on your soul.

You had escaped them once. This time, there was no graduation bell to save you. This time, the lesson was forever. You put the earrings in, the weight of them a permanent, glittering chain. 

“i… i’ve liked you since orientation,” JAKE confessed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, cheeks flushed under the sun. his eyes were hopeful, almost puppy–like, waiting for your answer like a dog waiting for its owner to throw the stick. 

you didn’t… feel a single spark. not even a flutter.

maybe it was the exhaustion of having to live to survive another day—but nothing about jake made your heart race. not his shy smile, not his soft australian accent, not the way he’s practically the campus’ dream boyfriend. 

but when he shifted, the expensive watch on his wrist caught the light. when he pulled his phone out to nervously check the time, you noticed it was the latest model, the kind that cost more that your five–months monthly rent. his sneakers were the limited edition ones, his clothes were designers, and his car—? 

oh, his car.

everything about sim jaeyun screamed money, money, money. 

everything about you screamed money, money, money—as well. just under a different light. 

“i—i like you too, jake.” 

that was all it took.

from that moment on, jake became your affection. he didn’t just love you—he drowned you in it. 

just the next morning, he was already waiting outside your lecture hall with overpriced coffee in hands, fancy syrups and oat milk because he wasn’t sure if you could consume dairy which was crazy—because you’d think a thousand times before adding something (and even then, you wouldn’t). 

by the end of the week, your boyfriend had offered to drive you to every class—everywhere. no more squeezing into packed buses like sardines or walking in the rain with a torn umbrella. his sleek black car that smelled like new leather and his cologne, and the heated seats felt like heaven.

money appeared in careful and subtle ways at first. jake paying for every date (as expected, but with how men are these days), sliding a few notes into your purse that he bought when you complained about textbooks prices. 

“just take it,” he’d insisted when you tried to protest, eyes big and sincere as he closed your fingers with the money on your palm. “i hate seeing my girlfriend struggle. let me help.”

soon, it wasn’t just help. it was lavish. jake bought you almost everything you wanted, and everything that you hinted at. shivering? he bought you a new winter coat. hungry? you stopped eating cup noodles because jake filled your fridge full and ordered you delivery every night. 

he paid your laundry, bought you a new phone, laptop, headphones, designer bags, skincare that actually worked, shoes after shoes after shoes despite you only having a pair of feet. he never made you ask, you barely had to hint.

just point. 

and slowly, very quietly, you started taking advantage. 

not in an obvious way because you weren’t a gold digger. but the balance tipped. 

you began mentioning things on purpose—a restaurant you wanted to try. a dress you saw online. how stressed you were about a group project and how much easier it would be with a tablet. how your father was an asshole and didn’t want to pay for your tuition fees.

jake would light up every time, happy to fix it, happy to provide. he’d pull out his card without hesitation, eyes shining like making you happy was his only purpose as he tapped his card on the terminal. 

don’t misunderstand. you just wanted jake to take some burden off your shoulders by driving you around and paying for your meals sometimes in the beginning. 

but now, you let him fully pay for weekend trips—”just to relax”—nice resort and drive you there in his car while you sit pretty in the passenger seat. you started staying at his apartment more often, enjoying the space, letting the weekly maid do everything. 

because why would you? 

jake either didn’t notice how much you were leaning into his wallet… or he simply didn’t care.

not when you thanked him with a soft kiss on his cheek. not when you looked at him like he hung the stars on the skies. now when every night it’s sex with you. 

but his texts grew more frequent, more intense—

miss you already. 

can’t stop thinking about you. when are you coming back?

you’re the best that’s ever happened to me.

you replied with heart emojis and sweet words, all while your bank account stayed comfortably full, your life felt lighter than it had in years—and you still didn’t feel anything towards jake. 

you told yourself it was fine. he was fine with it. you never lied to his face, you just… took what he offered so willingly. and jake kept offering, more, more, and more. 

until the weight of his devotion started to feel less like luxury, and more like chains.

“jake—! you turned off my alarm?!” 

your voice cracked as you clutched your phone in your hand, staring at the screen—the clock staring back at you in disbelief. 12:49. the alarm you had triple–checked the night before—set for the most important final exam of the semester—had been silenced. 

jake stirred beside you, blinking sleepily as he propped himself up on one elbow. his fluffy hair was messy, lips pinkish. the sheets were tangled around his waist, and the faint scent of sex still lingered in the air between you.

“yeah… sorry, baby,” he mumbled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and possessive at the same time. “you looked so tired. we went pretty hard last night and i didn’t want you stressing… i thought you could use the extra sleep—the test isn’t worth ruining your health over.”

your stomach dropped.

that test wasn’t just any test. it was the final, make–or–break exam for the scholarship you’d been counting on. you had worked so hard for it, and to be honest, you didn’t want to rely on jake and his endless stream of money.

you weren’t like that. you’re not that kind of girl.

“jake, that was the scholarship test! i needed that—i can’t… i can’t afford next year without it!”

he sat up fully now when you scrambled out of bed, snatching your bra from the floor as fast as you could it. jake genuinely didn’t understand why you were panicking. “but i can help with that. you don’t have to worry about money, baby.”

you froze for a second, the words hitting harder than they should have. 

“...no,” you said, voice sharper than you’d ever used with him. you pulled his shirt over your head, fingers shaking. the test was over—but surely you could talk it out with your advisor, couldn’t you? 

“that’s not your choice to make.”

jake blinked, sitting up straighter, sheets pooled on his lap. “i was just trying to help. you were so tired after we… you know—i thought i was being good to you.”

“you were—but good to me?” you let out a disbelief laugh, stepping back when he tried to reach for your hand. “this isn’t help anymore. this is you controlling everything. you know how much this matters to me!”

his eyes widened, that familiar puppy look turning desperate. “what are you saying? baby, please—i didn’t mean it like that, i love you. i just want what’s best for you.”

you frowned, shaking your head. the kindness you’d been holding onto for months finally cracked. this was the reason why you couldn’t bring yourself to like jake—this borderline patheticness.

“we’re done, jake. i can’t fucking do this anymore.”

you grabbed the rest of your things and left before he could say anything else. it didn’t matter anyway because none of the things were yours in the first place anyway. you’re just returning it back. 

——

your ex boyfriend spammed your phone like crazy—texts, missed calls, voicemails, even emails. they were desperate and sweet; “baby, please talk to me. i’m sorry. i love you.” then they turned frantic and confused; “why aren’t you answering? what did i do wrong?” by nightfall they grew more unhinged; “i can’t eat. can’t sleep. i’ll fix everything. i’ll give you everything.”

jake: have you had lunch? i’ll buy you lunch. where are you? 

you stared at the screen with a tired sigh. “gosh, jake…” you muttered under your breath, archiving his chat. 

you lost the scholarship.

without the final exam, there was no way to recover it. your grades were good, but not good enough to cover the failure of it. academic fees piled up again, and the weight of broke student panic returned heavier than before.

and jake? he only got worse.

he showed up at your own flat, waiting in the corner near the entrance for you to come back from your job—eyes red–rimmed and clothes rumpled from sitting on the cold steps. that’s not all; he bothered your neighbours too—knocking on doors, asking if they’d seen you, leaving notes and small gifts.

the relentless bothering drained you and by the time you knew it—you were burnt out.

one a random thursday, you quit uni. 

and moved back with your mother the next morning. 

——

“wouldn’t you make more if you’d just continue your studies?” 

the old grandma who owned the place counted out your wage in crumpled notes, pressing the small envelope into your hand. her voice was soft but direct—you knew she didn’t mean it like that. she asked the same question almost every month.

you gave her a smile, shrugging as you took the envelope and slipped it into your pocket. “well… i wouldn’t be working with you if i continued my studies,” you half–joked, half–honest. “and then who would stay late to help you clean up?”

she clicked her tongue, shaking her head with fond exasperation. “you could be doing better than this. don’t waste your youth scrubbing the floor.”

what option did you have? your ex boyfriend became so obsessive he’d chased you out of university. his constant presence costed you your scholarship, your peace, and your enrollment. and even now, three years later, everything still made your stomach twist.

all the money he’d spent on you that he’ll never get back. 

the walk home felt longer tonight for some reason. your legs ached, mind’s foggy, and the small envelope felt too light for how heavy the month had been. when you finally reached the old building where you rented a tiny room, you stopped in front of the dimly lit door.

you dug through your puse for keys, brushing past receipts and lip balm and the phone jake had bought. the hallway was quiet, except for the single flickering bulb that kept buzzing.

drifted from the end of the hallway—

“why did you do that to me?”

your heart slammed against your ribs before dropping to your tummy. you froze, barely turning your head toward the voice.

standing at the far end of the hallway was your ex boyfriend—sim jaeyun. half hidden in the shadows where the light barely reached. three years had changed him—his face was sharper and his hair slightly longer but still undeniably charming and handsome. 

but that same desperate, puppy–like gaze was still there.

“jake…?” you murmured, breath hitched.

he took a step forward, hands clenched at his sides. the air between you was thick with the closure he never got. you didn’t move, fingers trembling as you fished for your keys. the metal jingled when it made contact with all your other items in the purse.

“how did you—”

“i want you to stop pretending none of this happened,” he said as he came closer—not too close, but close enough you could smell his expensive cologne. there was anger simmering underneath his voice, bigger than the pleading tone it used to lace with. “i looked for you for three fucking years—like everything i did for you was nothing.”

your fingers finally closed around your keys, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bring them out. you’re so scared. jake wouldn’t do anything to hurt you—but gosh, you’re so fucking scared.

“let me in,” he continued, stopping right behind you. his eyes were locked on the back of your head, you felt it burning. “let’s talk it out. right now. you owe me that much.”

your stomach dropped.

“no,” you said immediately, shaking your head as you tried to push the key into the lock anyway, hands shaking so badly that the keys slipped from your fingers and clattered onto the tiled floor. 

before you could even bend down, jake moved.

he crouched with you, larger hand wrapping firmly around yours as you both reached for your keys. his fingers slid between yours—it was romantic to him—the way his thumb brushed over your knuckles, steadying your trembling hand. 

jake guided your hand (still wrapped in his) toward the lock and jammed the key in. the click of the door unlocking echoed in the quiet hallway. “there,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “i’m still taking care of you.”

you yanked your hand away from his. spinning around, you pressed your back firmly against the door, using your body from the entrance. your heart was slamming, palms flat against the wood as if that could somehow keep him out.

“jake, stop.” you said, voice shaky. “i don’t owe you anything. just… leave me alone.”

he frowned, staring at you for a beat. the desperate puppy look replaced by frustration and confusion that had clearly been building for three years. 

“yes the fuck you do,” he snapped. his voice was louder now, you hoped the other tenants wouldn’t report you. “i’m not even talking about the money. those fees, the rent, the stuff—none of that. you can keep it, i don’t care.”

he leaned in, one hand braced on the door beside your head. “why did you do that to me?”

you felt your throat tighten, fear and guilt twisting together in your guts. “what did i do?!” you burst out, voice cracking in disbelief. “jake, i was fucking broke! i never asked you for any of it!” 

jake’s face twisted, a mix of confusion and anger flashing across his features. “if you’re so fucking broke,” he said. “then just let me take care of you. i can give you whatever you need. why won’t you just let me?”

“you’re suffocating me,” you shook your head. “you think throwing money and attention at me will fix it, but it’s killing me. i can’t breathe when you’re like this.” you clicked your tongue, your eye twitched.

“it’s always fucking money with you dogs.”

that tipped him over the edge.

jake pushed forward hard, so hard the unlocked door flew open behind you with a loud bang. you lost your balance instantly, back hitting the floor of your tiny room with a painful thud, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs. 

the small envelope slipped out and scattered across the cheap linoleum. 

jake stood in door way, chest heaving, eyes wide with fury. he stepped inside, the door swinging shut behind him. 

“dogs?” he spat, voice shaking with disbelief. it’s almost fucking funny. he towered over you as you lay on the floor, propped on your elbows. “me? what the fuck does that make you, huh?” 

he let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“a bitch. that’s what you are. a gold digger bitch.”

jake crouched down slowly, his face now level with yours.

“you fucking used me—and you know what? i never cared about the money. i would’ve given you everything. my whole fucking life… but you… you just needed a wallet with a heartbeat.”

he leaned closer, voice dropping into something colder. 

“did you find someone richer now? someone who can buy you nicer things without asking for anything back? he’s taking care of you now, isn’t he? you’re playing this broke little waitress act—so you can keep pretending you’re innocent?”

your lips parted to deny, but before the words could leave you, jake’s hand shot out. his fingers wrapped around your throat firmly, pinning you against the cold, sticky floor. your breath hitched sharply as his palm pressed against your neck, thumb resting right over your pulse. 

your eyes widened in shock, and your hands shot up to wrap around his wrist. 

“jake—” 

“that doesn’t matter now,” he scoffed, eyes glassy, a terrifying mix of rage and devotion burning in them. “none of it fucking matters anymore.”

he hovered over your, knees braced beneath your hips, completely caging you. the boy who used to blush now was done begging from a distance. 

“i’ll take care of you in my way now. you’re going to stay with me—i’ll make sure you never have to work another shitty shift again.” 

tears pickled at the corners of your eyes. the horrifying realisation that the sweet, pathetic jake you once knew finally snapped. his grip only loosened a fraction, but he didn’t let go. his lips brushed against yours. 

“i’m gonna put my brat in you—so you can never leave me again.”

jake stood, perfectly poised, his expression unreadable save for the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth—something like satisfaction—when he glanced your way. his father patted his shoulder.

your lawyer said something about appealing, about “not giving up” “have hopes” but her voice felt so far away, so buried, so muffled. you stared down at your trembling hands. 

how did it all get this bad?

“how do you prove that it wasn’t the plaintiff who hit the defendant first?” 

the judge’s voice cut through the air—he was calm but his words landed like a slap. 

your lawyer stiffened beside you. “your honor, the pictures—” she began, “—of my client’s bruises were taken the same night. the timestamps, the hospital report​​—”

“photos can be edited,” jake’s lawyer interrupted smoothly, his tone dripping with rehearsed civility. “—and it could be that it wasn’t by the cause of my client. the defendant has already demonstrated a volatile temper. my client, however, chose not to retaliate.”

soft laughters filled the room. 

“with respect, we also have messages​​—threats sent by mr. sim and his acquaintances. including references to fabricated photos—”

“ohjection,” jake’s lawyer snapped, rising to his feet. “unverified claims, your honor. there was no concrete proof my client distributed or even possessed said images.” 

your lawyer exhaled sharply through her nose. “because the group was deleted within minutes after the report was filed. but we have screenshots of the participants’ numbers​​—each verified, including mr. sim’s.”

a flicker of discomfort passed through jake’s expression—brief—but his lawyer didn’t miss a beat before they had the chance to look at jake. 

“surely it’s not expected to condemn a young man over a number, your honor,” jake’s lawyer said smoothly. “it could have been a mistake. anyone could have added that number to the group. there’s no proof that my client distributed these—,” he paused, holding the report paper in front of him for everybody to see. 

“—so–called deepfake videos of plaintiffs—only emotional testimony.”

your heart dropped to your stomach. how was it a mistake that jake, sunghoon, heeseung, and ni-ki’s phone numbers were all added to a chatroom all at once? and they were not so–called deepfake videos of you—they were videos of you! explicit, porn videos with your fucking face plastered on it!

your lawyer frowned, bristled. “the messages clearly mention mr. sim’s name—his friends address him directly. and the videos—” she paused, glancing at you. discomfort screamed on your face. your palms pressed flatly against your knees as you forced yourself to look to the front. 

you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“—the videos are obviously of my client’s likeness. her face, her voice, spliced into obscene contents. the manipulation is clear to anyone who’s seen them.”

jake’s lawyer almost let out a scoff, but maintained his professionalism. “likeness is subjective. those videos were pulled from anonymous channels online—they’re hardly credible sources. anyone could have used the plaintiff's face to gain attention—in which she had posted across her social media accounts. my client has no connection to the creation or spread.”

“except that the very chatroom where they were first circulated contains his—and his acquaintances' verified numbers,” your lawyer continued, voice tightening. “we also recovered fragments of browser history from mr. sim’s and mr. lee’s laptop searches linking to AI image generation websites. deepfake tools. even prompts matching the plaintiff’s name.”  

silence.

almost everyone except you and your lawyer straightened in tense. the faintest flicker of annoyance crossed jake’s lawyer's face. his client’s eyes widened for a split second. jake swore his heart dropped—he was sure he’d removed it, so how did they get ahold of his browser history?

digital forensics?

at the silence, your lawyer shot again, “perhaps you’d like to explain that? and why did your client wipe his device clean two days after the report was filed?”

a ripple went through the room—soft gasps, clicking pens. 

jake’s lawyer smiled thinly. “routine maintenance. surely that isn’t a crime.”

the judge exhaled through his nose, weary. “counsel, both of you—enough. unless verified forensic data is presented, the court will not entertain assumptions about deleted files or browsing patterns.” 

you flinched. they were… just going to sweep it under the rug like that? 

the words barely left the judge’s mouth before the sound of shuffling papers filled the air again. jake’s lawyer sat down, calm, satisfied. your own lawyer leaned toward you, whispering something about how the abuse case wasn’t finished yet.

that you still had the chance to win that one. 

she explained to you that digital cases were often hard as evidence could vanish in seconds, trails blurred by technology… and money. she promised to push for the digital forensics report next hearing—and if you allowed it, she would have to show a fragment of the… deepfake videos to support her claim.

you nodded faintly, though your hands wouldn’t stop trembling in your lap. what other choices did you have? if you had to humiliate and embarrass yourself again, if you had to sit there while strangers dissected your “body” frame by frame—call if fake, call if attention–seeking, call it real—then so be it. 

you’d already lost your privacy that you could probably not get back. what was left to lose but your dignity? 

across the aisle, jake finally looked up. his thumb tapped once against the table before he folded his hands neatly. 

this wouldn’t have been a problem for the two of you if you’d just stop rejecting his advances. sure—he got a little angry and emotional (as his lawyer said so) when you said no, but what did you expect him to do? 

you ignored his messages, blocked his calls, told him to stay away and even wanted to get a restraining order if the gifts kept coming in. what else did you want from him?

you’d pushed him—so he snapped back at you.

so now here you were, sitting in the courtroom and pretending to be the victim. 

his jaw flexed as he glanced at you. to him, the deepfake videos, the photos, the texts, the hits—those weren’t crimes. they were consequences. your consequences. 

had he known it would end up this way, he would’ve done worse.

——

the night of the first courtroom session, jake’s mom had visited you in your house. she came herself, no assistants, no chauffeur waiting by the gate. just her and her soft knocks against your door and that immaculate smile she wore.

your parents had warned you not to see any of the sim family members. 

“i came to talk,” she’d said, stepping inside before you could decide whether to let her. she carried an expensive bag as she sat on the couch. “yn honey,” her voice dripped like syrup. you stood by the doorway. 

“if you take back the report,” she began gently, “we can make this… go away. quietly.” she nodded as she explained, like she was talking to a toddler. “you can move on, and so can jake.”

you didn’t say anything, your fingers gripped the edge of the door. 

“there’s no need to… make this big. it will hugely impact your future—everyone will know. your future boss can check that you’ve had a court case before.”

when you didn’t respond, she sighed softly. the only light accompanying the living room was a small table lamp you switched on. the orange light illuminated her elegant features. “he didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, tone almost indulgent and motherly. 

“you know how boys are. he just likes you—a lot. too much, maybe… sometimes affection comes out… clumsy.” 

boys will be boys. 

slowly, she slid a thick, expensive envelope across the coffee table.

the words hit harder than you expected. like every bruise, every apology, every time jake’s hand made contact with your skin to strike you.

you’d looked up then, meeting her eyes for the first time. “so you’re saying it’s love,” you’d murmured. the bruises underneath your sleeves throbbed. “that’s what you call it?”

her smile faltered. “i’m saying it’s complicated, honey.” 

you frowned, disgust, annoyance, and hurt plastered on your face.

“get out.” 

——

jake refused to look at you. his jaw was tight, expression carefully neutral—as if he was trying to put an upfront. 

your lawyer stood, presenting the folder marked exhibit c. “these are text records recovered from the victim’s phone,” she said, placing it gently before the judge. “message that align with her initial report of emotional and physical abuse.”

jake’s lawyer didn’t flinch. “objection—those messages were sent in a moment of personal conflict. my client maintains they were not abusive in nature.”

the judge barely lifted his gaze. “overruled. continue.”

you could feel lasers shooting at the back of your head as the screenshots were projected onto the screen—the ones where you had to put on a thick wall before you when your lawyer asked for your consent to show.

unknown: you’re nothing without me. unknown: you’re just a broke bitch with a pretty face unknown: i fucking love you so just say you’re sorry already

your throat burned. across the room, jake shifted uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the edge of the table. his lawyer leaned close, murmuring something that made his expression smooth out again. 

your lawyer continued, explaining context, timestamps, alongside the pictures of the bruises itself. you weren’t really listening. you couldn’t bring yourself to go through it again. 

you clenched your fists on your lap. this was the part where you were supposed to feel vindicated. instead, all you could think of was that night—

“yn, please,” jake held you by your forearms, breath coming out in quick bursts. his palm still stung against your cheek, throbbing, and for a moment, the sound of it echoed louder than his voice.

your skin burned, red where he touched you. his fingers dug in as if he could pull the apology straight from your body. “i—i didn’t mean to,” he said, eyes wide—panicked, almost boyish. the kind where they acted before thinking, and regretted a millisecond after. 

you stood there, frozen. you could still taste blood on your tongue and lips. he followed your silence with shaky, dry, laugh, brushing his thumb across the wound. “you—you know how i get when you talk to me like that.”

jake’s eyebrows knitted in concern, cupping your cheeks with both your hands. “you said you don’t love me—i don’t get it, i don’t understand,” he murmured, caressing the apple of your cheeks.

he brought your face towards him, but your eyes were darting everywhere but on him. when your eyes weren’t on him, jake patted your cheek and used his fingers to lightly spread the skin around your eyes.

it worked.

“look at me,” he whispered. “don’t cry, don’t cry. you know i love you, right? you make me crazy sometimes, but…” his voice trailed off, heavy with self–pity. 

it wasn’t until jake pulled you into a tight hug while murmuring “you forgive me,” “you forgive me,” over and over like a mantra to get you to believe you’d forgiven him that you pushed him off of you and landed a strike across his face.

outside, rain battered against the windows. 

back in the courtroom, your lawyer’s voice snapped you awake. “as you can see, your honor, the physical evidence aligns with the timeline of plaintiff’s report.” 

your eyes stayed on the table, afraid that if you looked at jake, you’d see that same softness in his expression—the one he wore after hurting you. the one that made you believe—

that maybe it was your fault.

——

the verdict landed like a bomb in your chest.

you probably should’ve seen it coming—so why was it such a surprise to you?

“the court finds insufficient evidence to proceed with the charges of assault.”

the words echoed, even though the judge’s tone was steady—it was almost sympathetic. your lawyer said something under her breath, but you couldn’t catch it. everything was a blur. 

it was over. it was all over.

your life was over.

you sat on the edge of the courtroom bench long. insufficient proof. insufficient truth. insufficient you. professors would remember, future employees would remember. someone would bring it up, wasn’t she the girl who sued that chaebol’s son? 

you pressed a hand to your mouth, but the sobs came anyway—small, strangled sounds you couldn’t contain. across the room, jake was surrounded by his friends. the same people you would’ve sued if you were born with a silver spoon. one of them clapped him on the back; another handed him his jacket.

his mother smiled brightly, relief softening her face because her would had just been set right again.

you didn’t look at him but jake did. and even if you didn’t, you could tell there was no triumph in his gaze. only that quiet, smug, the kind that said see? no one believes you. 

you had done everything right. told the truth. stayed calm. went through the humiliation. yet again—

you lost.