🌟

He was evil, beyond what words could say. He had no regard for anyone but himself, he threw girls around like fucking trading cards, and he seriously, truly swore by alpha male podcasts as a source of motivation.

You never let yourself dwell much on the fact that you had given Jay a chance, or that you really had faith that he would change for you, but Jay was gone past any possibility of redemption, and he played in your face before you could see it coming.

You hated him, with everything you had. There was nothing you wished for more than to never see his face again. 

To others, it looked hypocritical of you to continue to attend Jay’s frat parties despite your hatred for him, but what they didn’t know was that you weren’t there for him. Shit, you weren’t even there for the party. 

You weren’t sure how it started, but a year ago, at a party just like this, you’d met the man who would sweep you off your feet like Jay never could.

Jake Sim, the love of your life and, unfortunately, your ex’s younger brother.

You often wondered how exactly a guy as perfect as Jake could have a brother as twisted and demented as Jongseong, how one could grow up with the literal devil on their shoulder and still come out an angel. 

Jake was a breath of fresh air, a distraction, a kind of escapism you couldn’t get enough of if you tried. He made you feel heard, feel seen, and most of all, he made you feel loved. 

Jake had known of you casually, from both parties and whatever he’d heard from his brother. He’d been just as surprised at Jay’s actions as you were, fully convinced that you were his one before your relationship went to shit. After your breakup with Jay, Jake had come by your sorority house to apologize on behalf of his brother, and from that moment sprouted a relationship that would change your life in the best way possible.

Jake was your boyfriend, you were his girlfriend, but the two of you moved strictly in secret. 

You couldn’t go public, at least not for a while, for both your wellbeing and Jake’s overall safety in the frat house. The mere thought of Jay finding out that his brother and his ex had gotten together behind his back was enough to send shivers up your spine. 

It was the default fix, the mutual agreement you and Jake had come to when you defined your relationship.

You would keep the relationship away from the public. You would keep Jake from getting smothered in his sleep, and Jake would keep Jay from going completely mental.

He’d never tell you this, but, despite all of Jay’s shortcomings as a boyfriend, you had been his first and only girlfriend, and Jake knew that he wouldn’t have stuck around as he did if he didn’t at least have some feelings for you. Dickhead tendencies aside, he did love his brother, and though he couldn’t control his own heart, he figured that he’d try and preserve Jay’s for as long as he could.

It wasn’t always easy, lying to Jay. There were moments of dread, nightmares about the day his brother would realize what was happening. There were times where Jake would have to turn down put-ons from Jay, and insist that he simply “wasn’t looking for love.”

There was guilt for a while, but he got over it quickly. Jake had better things to worry about.

Like you, at his door instead of at the party downstairs, in a dress that is entirely too dangerous for his heart, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

“I gotta tell you, Jake,” you pushed yourself off of the doorframe, kicking your heels off and making your way towards him, “I’m way too tired to care about people seeing me, and I’m sure they won’t anyway.” 

You kneeled on the mattress on one knee, leaning forward and taking Jake’s chin in your hand. His heart was quick to stutter, his calm facade beginning to shatter under your hold. Jake would always have a weakness for you, no matter how collected he pretended to be.

His eyes widened slightly despite himself as you gently pulled him closer, your face closing the distance between you two. Jake’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked down, suddenly fixed on your lips and how close they were to his. Your lips brushed lightly against each other, enough to feel the slightest hint of a kiss, but not nearly enough to satisfy anyone properly.

All it took was one nudge, the slightest movement for his lips to touch yours, and he wanted it, he wanted it so bad, but Jake liked to tease.

He wouldn’t give it to you, even though his heart screamed at him to let go.

Your voice was a whisper as you exhaled against his lips, “I missed you.”

And just as you leaned in, your eyes shutting as your hand shifted to Jake’s cheek–

“Not yet.” 

He pulled away, turning his head to the side before you could get to him. You gasped lightly, and Jake smirked. A smug, knowing smirk that was a painful reminder of his relation to Jay. He looked back at you, his eyes low and dark with a want that nearly made you shiver.

He eyed you from the face down, before returning to your eyes and taunting, “Say please.”

You were completely gone, consumed by the explosive need for Jake’s touch that bubbled in your chest, his lips so beautiful and tantalizing that your thoughts had been reduced to nothing more than raw desire. 

You breathed out, “Please.”

“Again.”

“Please.”

“Like you mean it.”

“Jake, please, just let me–”

“Beg for it.”

You were at your wit’s end, your voice reaching a pathetically whiny pitch that only Jake could bring out of you. You were falling apart, and he hadn’t even touched you. 

“Jake, I need you to kiss me, I’m begging.”

He paused. Looked around as if to think about whether or not he approved your pleas. He hummed in disappointment.

“It could use some work.”

“God!”  You cried out. You’d completely given up on waiting, on Jake’s games, the need for satisfaction clawing at you uncontrollably. Your hands grabbed Jake’s head, and you smashed his lips onto yours. 

As if a switch flipped, the both of you immediately began moving frantically against one another, leaning in as if you’d wanted to melt into one person.

The kiss was hungry, charged with the fervor that came from restraint– it was desperation, the way your lips moved against each other. You were quick to sigh into the kiss, your mouth rough and feverish as you leaned further into Jake. 

Despite his teasing, the moment you brought their lips together sent a shock of pleasure through his whole body, exiting from his mouth through a groan that made you dizzy with pleasure. You threw your other leg onto the bed and over Jake’s lap, straddling him as he held your waist in his hands.

“So impatient,” he chuckled against your lips, and you could feel his smirk through the kiss.

“Oh, shut up.” Your hands moved with minds of their own– up and down his chest, playing with the waistband of his sweatpants, going up and settling in Jake’s hair. You grabbed at two chunks of hair and lightly tugged at it, Jake gasping at the sensation just enough for you to deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your body curved into his.

There was something about the way Jake made you feel that would never be topped, the satisfaction he gave you beyond anything you’d ever experienced that made you cherish him even more. 

Even through the most heated moments, you can still feel the love and deliberation in his movements, through the way he handled you.

You could tell that he loved you, and you always made sure to return the favor tenfold.

Jake’s lips began to travel down your neck, leaving wet kisses everywhere from the tip of your jaw down to your collarbone. You sighed, eyes closed as your hands played in his hair. 

He whispered against your shoulder, “I love you,” and looked up from where he was.

You looked down at him, and you swore it that your heart would stop one day because of him. His eyes were lazy and filled with need, yet so desperate that it brought about a complicated feeling you purposely chose not to put a name to. 

You grinned at the sight of him looking up at you, and leaned your head forward until your forehead connected with his. “I love you, too, Jake.”

He mirrored your smile, giggling to himself before leaning in for another kiss and–

It was so sudden.

A glass bottle of beer, now shattered, spilling, and long forgotten on the floor.

A whisper so quiet and choked that the loud panting in the room nearly overpowered it.

“Jake?”  

You and Jake flew off of each other, looking at the door with wide eyes.

he presses the light out of curiosity.

there’s a bright flash, a weird pressure in the air, and suddenly there are two jays standing in your kitchen.

same face. same clothes. same slightly messy hair. same confused expression.

the original jay stares at his clone. the clone stares back.

“…what the fuck,” both of them say at the exact same time.

you, standing there with a half-eaten apple in your hand, just slowly put it down.

“okay,” you say carefully. “so. there are two of you now.”

the original jay looks at you, then at the clone, then back at you. “this has to be a dream.”

the clone tilts his head, eyes already drifting over you in a way that feels very familiar and very dangerous. “if it’s a dream, it’s a really good one.”

the first hour is pure… logistics (if you can call it that), and mild panic.

they have the same memories up until the moment of cloning. same voice. same little habits. the only difference is that the clone seems… slightly less filtered. a little bolder. like the version of jay that exists in the back of his mind when he’s too tired or hony to be polite.

you end up sitting on the couch while both of them pace.

“we can’t tell anyone,” original jay says firmly. “this would be a whole scandal.”

“agreed,” clone jay replies. then he looks at you and smirks. “but we can tell her everything.”

original jay shoots him a look. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” the clone asks innocently. “don’t point out that our girlfriend is currently looking at both of us like she just won the lottery?”

your face burns.

because… yeah. you kind of are.

by night two, the panic has fully transformed into something else.

you’re in the bedroom. original jay is behind you, chest pressed to your back, mouth on your neck, hands already under your shirt. clone jay is in front of you, on his knees, slowly dragging your leggings down while looking up at you with dark eyes.

“you’ve been thinking about this since the kitchen, haven’t you?” the clone murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “the two of us. both wanting you.”

original jay’s voice is rougher against your ear. “she’s been wet since she realized there were two of us. i felt it when i carried her to the couch earlier.”

you whimper. the clone laughs softly and leans in, mouthing over your panties before pulling them aside.

having one jay between your legs is already overwhelming.

having a second jay holding you upright while whispering filthy praise in your ear is almost too much.

“look at her,” original jay says, voice low and fond and a little wrecked. “taking it so well already.”

the clone hums in agreement, tongue finally dragging over you properly. your knees buckle. original jay holds you tighter.

they develop roles without ever discussing it.

original jay is still the one who makes sure you eat, who runs a bath afterward, who presses soft kisses to your forehead and asks if you’re okay every twenty minutes. the clone is the one who pins your wrists, who talks dirtier, who seems to enjoy watching his other self take care of you almost as much as he enjoys participating.

sometimes they switch.

one morning you wake up to original jay’s mouth on your breast and the clone already hard against your thigh, watching with a sleepy, satisfied expression.

“morning,” the clone rasps. “he woke up needy. i told him to be gentle.”

original jay makes a muffled sound against your skin that might be a protest and might be agreement.

you stretch, smiling, and reach down to stroke the clone slowly. “you two are going to ruin me.”

“that’s the plan,” both of them say at the same time, then exchange a look and huff almost identical laughs.

the best part is the way they both look at you like you’re the single most precious and filthy thing in the world.

one night you’re on your hands and knees. original jay is underneath you, letting you ride his face while the clone fucks you slow and deep from behind. every time you try to say something coherent, one of them does something that makes your brain short-circuit.

“she’s close,” the clone tells the original, voice tight. “feel how she’s shaking.”

original jay just grips your thighs tighter and keeps going.

when you finally come, it’s with both of their names tangled in your mouth. they follow soon after — one with a groan against your cunt, the other buried deep and pulsing inside you.

afterward the three of you collapse in a sweaty, sticky heap. original jay pulls you onto his chest. the clone curls up behind you, arm slung over both of you.

“seventy-two hours,” the clone murmurs eventually. “feels too short.”

original jay presses a kiss to your hair. “we’ll make them count.”

you smile into his skin, already half-asleep and thoroughly wrecked in the best way.

“best weekend of my life,” you mumble.

both jays laugh, low and warm and perfectly in sync.

“yeah,” original jay says softly. “ours too.”

the device stops glowing on the third night.

there’s another soft flash of light. when it fades, there’s only one jay left in the bed with you — the original one, slightly out of breath, staring at the empty space beside him like he’s already mourning the loss.

you reach for him immediately. he pulls you close, face buried in your neck.

“are you okay?” you whisper.

he nods. then, after a long moment, he adds: “…we’re doing that again if the weird box ever shows up a second time.”

you laugh, sleepy and exhausted and so, so happy.

“deal.”

© jongst4r, 2026

-

Being the group’s leader wasn’t your choice.

But you were their choice. You were the oldest. The trainee with the longest training period. The ace, all-rounder — you name it. You’re that mysterious trainee who had garnered quite a popularity during your pre-debut days. Appearing in your senior’s music video and modelling for brands gave you exposure. It made everyone anticipate your debut and you actually have been preparing for a debut — they just needed the right members for you. 

As soon as you debuted in a six-member group, you immediately carried the weight of being the leader and center of the group. It was a responsibility that was given to you without a second thought.

There was pressure, of course. You have to guide your members in music shows, interviews, and variety shows, give them advice and such, and be that someone who they can lean on. The good thing was, the adjustment felt natural, given that you’ve been taking care of them during your trainee days.

Your members looked up to you. You’re the eldest member. Their loving and caring sister who listened to their worries. The one who gives them advice whether it be improving their skills or just something small or irrational, you’re there to listen to them. You assure them that you’ll be there for them, no matter what happens.

Well, except for one thing.

You have boundaries too. You didn’t mind going out late-night for some snack run or listening to their worries despite the lack of sleep — but becoming one’s babysitter when it comes to unnecessary side quests that could ruin the  group’s image? That’s where you draw the line.

But here you are, parking your manager’s car (which you borrowed and hopefully don’t get recognized by your fans) in the underground parking of a dormitory building. You could feel your hands cold and sweaty, nervous about what you’re about to do — actually, what your member is about to do.

The youngest, whose smile was wide, giggled as she removed the seatbelt of her seat. She looked at you like you hung the stars in the skies and you’re internally cursing yourself why her cuteness is your weakness.

“Thank you so much, unnie! I’ll be back before twelve I promise —”

“What do you mean? I am coming with you,” you cut off, which made her excited expression turn into something horrified.

“But you didn’t need to!” she exclaimed, ears red in embarrassment, but you rolled your eyes.

“I agreed on one condition, and that is I am coming with you inside their dorm, there’s no way I am letting you walk into a boy group’s dorm alone,” you explained.

“But they’re nice! You’ve met them!” she defended and yes, you did meet them, numerous times, at music show hallways and show festivals but those were just a few seconds greeting and bowing to each other. 

In that scale, you barely know them at all.

“They’re still boys,” you pointed out before removing your seatbelt and glancing at her once again. “What? Are you going to sit there or do you want to go up?”

“This is embarrassing,” she mumbled under her breath as she opened the door of the car and left.

“Just be thankful that I had agreed to this,” you snarled at her and although your tone was filled with irritation, you’re not mad at her, of course, you could never be mad at your members. The situation was just annoying and too surreal for you.

Your group’s youngest is finally now an adult and the next thing you knew, she wanted to experience sex — with a boy group member of all the people out there, of course, why are you even surprised? It’s a common event in the industry. The hidden romance, one-night stands, and hookups within idols. 

It shouldn’t surprise you at all. After all, you had that same experience too, during your rookie days with a senior who’s two years older than you. Let’s just say that the experience was disappointing enough that you never did it again and at the same time, you had to warn your members about boy group members. 

Despite that, you’re not in total control of them and their bodily desires. Mistakes happen and experiences differ, giving them a heads-up and advice should suffice. If ever their first time would be a failure, that’s not your problem at all, at least you told them so.

The other members had gone through the same thing too, results differed from each of them but now, it’s the youngest member’s turn to do so. You couldn’t fathom the thought but she’s already twenty! Things like this are pretty normal and yet, your leader instincts convinced you to be more protective of her compared to the rest.

Maybe, you just couldn’t accept the fact that the youngest is not your baby anymore. It seems like yesterday you’re helping her with her homework during trainee days but now she’s going to have sex with a male idol. It’s like putting a gun on your head.

Oh well. You convinced yourself that this is bound to happen either way. The only thing you should worry about is for her to not be caught, hence why you insist on accompanying her…all the way to the dorm. It was a reach but you’re not going to let her enter a boy group’s dormitory alone too. A boy group’s dormitory feels like a den of lions in reality.

You watched as she pressed the ringbell of the door, shaking on her feet like a child filled with sugar rush. She was giddy and excited, her smile was wide and bright that it reminded you of the first time you went to your ex-boyfriend’s dormitory.

You just wished that she doesn’t end up like you.

The door opened a minute later. Revealing to you a tall man wearing a casual loose shirt and sweatpants. His eyes landed on your co-member and you saw how his smile brightened as he greeted her. 

“Come in,” he said, opening the door wider, letting the two of you in, wherein he greeted you for formality and you reciprocated it immediately.

“I hope you don’t mind that I brought her with me,” your youngest shared, her voice high-pitched and sweet, obviously, sweetening her way to her boyfriend.

“Oh, it’s okay — please, make yourself at home,” Riki said to you before he guided you towards the couch. You sat there, the leather creaking against your weight.

You watched as Riki went to the kitchen area, and returned with a bottle of water, some sweet pastries and a fruit cup. He told you that he had bought it for you, which you find sweet. Thanking halfway, Riki told you that you’re free to watch movies or maybe play games on their tv — just feel at home. He repeated.

“We'll be in Riki's room now,” your fellow member said, excited and jumpy as she held her boyfriend’s hand, and just like her, Riki seemed giddy about what they’re going to do. 

God, looking at them, you feel like a parent whose daughter is going out on her first date, except she’s going to do something worse. The image probably’s going to scar you for life.

“Okay, be safe,” was the only thing you said, before you watched them go to the first door in the left hallway which you assumed was Riki’s room. 

Silence immediately follows through. You were accompanied by the stillness that devoured you in just a minute. The only thing you could do was grab the fruit cup and eat it. Hoping it’ll ease your tense body that’s nervous for your youngest. She said they’d be done around twelve — which means you have four hours to kill time.

Your peaceful moment was cut-off when you heard the door open. You freezed when footsteps became louder and louder until from the other hallway, a man stepped out, confused and surprised to see you.

The first thing you did was stand up, bow and greet him, since he was your senior. He seemed surprised by you but immediately greeted you and gave you a bow too.

“Heeseung, from Enhypen,” he introduced, exiting out of the hallway and going within your proximity. 

“I know, I’m y/n from Krave,” you introduced back, and his eyes widened.

“Oh! You sang ‘more’ right? That song’s been in my playlist since then,” Heeseung shared with a smile.

You smiled at the thought. “Thank you for listening to our songs sunbae.”

“Please, drop the sunbae, we’re in our dorm — also you can talk to me casually, we’re same-aged right?” the man replied casually.

You nodded, “right. Okay.” 

“You wanted something to eat? I’m going to make ramen, do you want some?” he offered and you shook your head.

“It’s okay, I already had a fruit cup, and I’m on a diet too,” you told him. 

He eyed the food on the table for a second before he remembered. “So I supposed the girl Riki’s with, is your member?”

You chuckled before nodding, “Yeah, I couldn’t let her go here alone, it kinda scares me.”

“I understand your sentiments, but Riki’s a good kid,” he pointed out.

“I know, I was just being careful, she’s our maknae, that’s why I’m too protective towards her,” you explained.

“Of course you are.” he smiled before going towards the kitchen. That made you sit on the couch and focus on your cup but minutes later Heeseung showed up once again.

“I felt lazy cooking tonight, so might as well accompany you,” he sat casually next to you like you two were friends. You were startled, but Heeseung didn’t seem to notice your flustered self as he opened the pack of gummy bears that he grabbed instead, then offered you some which you declined. 

You took the water bottle and took a few sips on it. The living room was quiet and serene, a deep contrast to whatever the hell was happening inside Riki’s room. You couldn’t help but to look at your watch, it’s barely an hour passed — why is time slow here suddenly?

“You alright?” Heeseung asked, and you only smiled bitterly.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you lied before taking another few sips and then placing it back on the table. You focused on the fruit cup while Heeseung’s halfway with his candy. The two of you fell into an awkward silence once again.

“Can I ask why you are here?” you asked out of nowhere, curiosity lingering in your mind. “Are you and Riki, dormmates?” 

“Well, I’m on babysitting duty too,” Heeseung said with a chuckle. “Everyone else is in the other dorm but Riki insisted that I stay in case of…emergencies, I don’t know what he meant but maybe he felt more at ease if I’m around.”

“That’s kinda sweet, he looks up to you,” you pointed out but Heeseung laughed at your words.

“It feels surreal that he’s going to do the deed. It seems like yesterday, he’s this small duckling who sleeps on my bed because he couldn’t sleep in his bed alone.” Heeseung shared, and you nodded, sharing the same sentiments that he does.

“I feel the same way,” you agreed. “They’re growing up aren’t they? It’s kinda scary. Growing in this industry isn’t helpful either.”

“I get you, that’s why it’s better to guide them and be always there right?”

“Right,” you nodded, ending the talk with you shoving another slice of apple into your mouth. Heeseung shoved a few jellies in his mouth, letting both of you settle with the dead air that came suddenly.

“So…do you do this with your other members?” Heeseung asked out of nowhere, and you shook your head as an answer.

“Only to her, you could see how protective I am, right? How about you? I’m sure your other members have brought girls in your dorm,” you asked him back and just like you, he shook his head in response.

“Numerous times, but this is the first time I did babysitting duty, which is weird since I thought Riki would like some privacy like the others, so I’m surprised that he asked me to stay,” he explained.

“His first time right?” Heeseung nodded at your question and you were a bit relieved since that means they’ll be each other’s first. The thought was kinda cute for you.

“Well, it’s her first time too, I guess they’re still scared…but determined,” you stated, earning a short laugh from Heeseung.

“I like how you described it that way,” he pointed out, making you chuckle.

But your conversation halted when a bunch of lewd, sinful noises came out of Riki’s room. Your eyes widened as the filthy sound slid inside your ears. 

“Oh my god,” that was the only thing you could say, while Heeseung laughed at your reaction.

“Here, this should help us cover up the noise,” Heeseung opened the television and clicked whatever channel’s available. He turned on the volume louder, hoping that it’ll muffle the noise.

But it was still too loud. Their dirty talks, the incoherent sounds, and how the bed banged against the wall. It made you extremely uncomfortable that you were frozen in your place. 

“Why are they so loud!?” you huffed in annoyance. “Oh my god! I couldn’t bear to hear it.”

“I guess Riki got some game,” Heeseung chuckled and you scoffed.

“That is such a boy respond of you.” you told him and he looked at you, offended.

“Woah hey, that hurts you know?”

“You seemed not offended by it.”

“A little, but I do admit it’s kinda gross hearing them do ‘it’” Heeseung answered.

You didn’t say anything but instead, turn on the volume louder but still, the sounds wouldn’t leave your ears, making you groan in annoyance again.

“I wanted to tell them to lower it down but that’s too much,” you complained once again before rubbing your face in hopes to remove all of the sinful sounds your ears had heard. 

Heeseung’s eyes never left you. He noticed how inaudibly uncomfortable you were. He couldn’t help but to look for a solution to it.

That is if you’re willing to agree to it.

“I know this might sound like a sketchy suggestion, but do you want to come to my room?” Heeseung asked out of nowhere.

You turned your head towards him, surprised. “What?”

“My room? It’s on the opposite side, so the sound would be muffled but we can just turn on some music so that it’ll bury the noise further.” Heeseung pointed to the other hallway that contained a few doors. It was far from Riki’s room but you hesitated to answer.

It’s a fucking trap. You insist. Heeseung may look all-innocent with his soft voice and bambi-like eyes but you have to constantly remind yourself that he is still a guy at the end of the day. God knows what he’d do to you in his room.

But for desperate measures? Maybe it’s not that bad at all, he did say that it’s a sketchy suggestion, Heeseung knows that his offer sounded weird to you. But would you rather listen to your co-member get dicked for the following hours? No fucking way.

“Fine,” you answered and you noticed how Heeseung’s eyes widened.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, but just so you know, I know hapkido,” you told him that it made him stop, stared at you, and nodded slowly.

“Thank you for the heads up.”

You stood up first before he did. You followed him towards the opposite hallway, away from Riki’s room, and fortunately, his room is at the end of the hallway.

“It’s not that cool, just giving you a heads up,” Heeseung shared before opening the door and letting you inside.

It was huge yet minimalist. The typical room setup — a bed, closet, drawer cabinet, and of course, a pc setup complete with a computer chair. There weren’t any decorations, the only odd thing about his room was the stack of gaming keyboards on his floor.

“Nice…room,” you commented. It smelled like his perfume along with some fabric conditioner which you didn’t mind at all. You stood at the corner awkwardly before Heeseung closed the door then proceeded towards his pc.

“I’ll play some music, see? You could barely hear them,” Heeseung said as he opened a music browser and looked for some songs. That’s when you noticed the noise was barely audible — it was almost mute which made you relax for a moment.

“Any suggestions?” he asked as he scrolled through Spotify.

“...Maybe some pop music?” you answered.

“I’ll just play some The Weeknd,” he clicked one of his playlist, and a familiar song from the said artist filled the whole room, completely burying the obscenity that’s happening a few rooms away.

“You listen to him?” you asked.

Heeseung nodded with a smile. “Huge fan — oh, you could sit on my bed, I don’t mind,”

“Only if you don’t sit beside me,” you said as you made your way towards his bed. It was soft and clean, Heeseung looked like he didn’t mind that you were in your outside clothes too.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll just relax here,” he insisted, sitting on the gaming chair. He made himself relaxed, with his legs criss-cross on the seat while he leaned against the backrest.

Silence devoured you two. The only noise you could hear was the song playing from his speaker. You two stared at each other, not moving nor talking, which you found relaxing and yet, you couldn’t help but to notice how Heeseung stared at you way too long than he should.

“You seem guarded,” he observed and that made you let out a nervous chuckle.

“Why should I not? I am in a boy group member’s room,” you shared.

“First time?”

“No, of course not, just reminds me of my first time though,” you answered honestly.

“Care to share?”

You pondered for a moment. “You won’t laugh?”

“I promise, scouts’ honor,” Heeseung said, even crossing his heart which made you laugh.

“Are you even one?”

Heeseung faintly shrugged, “Well, we did an en-o’clock episode about it, does that count?”

“Whatever but long story short, I dated a senior of ours, been going out for months and then decided to just let him be my first…but it was so fucking bad then he dumped me three days later.” you shared. 

“What the fuck?” it was the only thing that came out of Heeseung’s lips. Disbelief written on his face.

You nodded at his reaction, “after that I cursed every boy group member and their ability to charm girls but underperformed when it comes to sex.”

“...You didn’t get to cum, I assume,” you nodded at his words.

“Aside from that, it didn’t feel intimate to me, it’s like, he’s just using me to get off,” you added.

“Wow, and he had the audacity to dump you?”

“Yeah, it was so bad that it didn’t even last an hour, no foreplays, just a short makeout — he was just eager to get his dick wet!”

Heeseung laughed at your story but you didn’t feel embarrassed nor offended by his laugh, he seemed amused by how you detailed your experience. That’s when he finally understood why you’re so protective over your co-member, you just didn’t want them to experience the same thing that happened to you. 

“You didn’t meet anyone after that?” Heeseung asked.

You shook your head as answer. “Well, obviously, he broke my heart. So I rejected any idols who asked for my number, plus with the continuous tours and comebacks, I didn’t have any time at all, my focus was on my group.”

“So, that was the last time you had sex, I’m assuming,” Heeseung pointed out.

“Yup.”

“Never thought about it again?” he asked.

“You heard my story, if I’d do it, I’d do it with…I guess someone who’s not an idol?” you said with uncertainty.

“His dick game was really that bad?” 

That’s when you agreed. “So fucking bad, I’d like to think that all male idols are that bad.”

“Not me though.” Heeseung casually replied.

His words made you scoff in disbelief. “Of course you’d say that,”

“Well, you wouldn’t know unless you actually tried it,” he pointed out.

You halted for a minute. Eyebrows furrowed at him. “What?”

Heeseung looked at the clock, “we have a lot of time to spare before midnight, I was suggesting that you might want to, relax for a bit,”

You stared at him appalled while Heeseung seemed so casual about what he just said. 

“Are you asking me to have sex with you?”

“You could say no if you want to, but the offer’s open,” Heeseung answered and you rolled your eyes before another scoff escaped your lips.

“You’re just like any other male idol,” you stated.

“Have you slept with other boy group members?” Heeseung asked tauntingly that it made you quiet for a moment. He smirked, infuriatingly and yet, you remained seated.

“Right, so why would you stick with that one experience? Come on, not attached to this one, unless you’re the type to have emotional attachment when it comes to sex, I’ll let you off the hook,” Heeseung convinced.

Has the room always felt warm? You don’t know why there’s chills on your nape and your hands clamming with sweat. Why is there a sudden shift in the air and your heart’s racing rapidly, that in a blink, you felt convinced.

“What’s in for me?” you muttered.

“Like I told you, maybe you should relax for a moment, you’re tense and guarded,” Heeseung pointed out.

“I should be tense, my youngest’s having sex with her boyfriend, I’m in Enhypen’s dormitory — specifically inside your room, who knows your sasaengs are lurking around your place and caught us sneaking,” you explained.

“You’re safe here, don't worry, and right now, just think of yourself, just for four hours, think of yourself not the eldest and leader of Krave, just you,” he insisted and something about the way he talked almost made you fold for him.

“I’m starting to wonder how many girls have you persuaded and slept with by just how you convince me,” you said. 

The smirk on his lips widened, teasing. “Oh, so you’re convinced? Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re the second girl I’ve ever slept with.," 

You stared at him for a moment. Heeseung tilted his head sideways, observing you and yet his stare didn’t have any weight on it. He looked at you like you’re the brightest moon tonight — not just a girl he seemed to eager to fuck.

That thought made you spin. He looked so alluring that you’re lost for words. Then he gestured to you to come to him. You don’t know why but you stood up, went to him and your hands intertwined with his. 

“I’m not gonna push you if you don’t want it, you could take a rest on my bed and I’ll wake you up after they’re done, but you know, I could make you release stress in some other ways too,” he explained, tone filled with genuinity that your heart betrayed you that moment because sleeping with him is just an option. 

You can say no to him. He’s giving you a choice to say no, but he’s also offering you to relax, let yourself melt and remove all the tense feeling in your shoulders. Just you. Heeseung said. Not the eldest member of your group, not the leader who’s on babysitting duty tonight.

“Are you sure about that?”

“A hundred percent, I won’t ask you if I am not sure,” he smiled. “And don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.”

“You better give me a good reason to trust you Lee Heeseung.” you whispered to him.

“And if I told you that once you got a taste of me, there’s no turning back now?”

You hummed and he pulled you close, losing your balance and hoisting you up to straddle on his lap. You gasp at his boldness and yet, you didn’t move nor struggle.

Because a part of you was dying to feel what good sex feels like. Hearing your fellow member’s sex life and stable, healthy relationships with their significant others, you wonder when you will experience that same kind of bliss again.

If Heeseung, one of the popular k-idols in the industry, is offering you good sex especially with that body and face, who are you to say no?

“You’re with me?” he asked, brushing the stray hairs away from your face. You nodded, staring at him made you bite your lip and he seemed amused by how you’re still maintaining your composure.

“I need words sweetheart, do you want this?” he repeated.

“I…do, please,” you muttered, almost mute, and yet, you felt determined.

With your words, Heeseung’s smile turned into a smirk, hands brushing your cheek as his stare lingered for too long. “Good, let’s take it slow baby.”

Heeseung closed the gap first. Your breath halted the moment his lips landed on yours. It was soft, thick, tasting sweet and citrus like the gummy bears he was eating earlier. His arms wrapped around yours tighter as he pushed himself deeper against you, earning a choked sound from you.

He broke out of the kiss, worried as he looked at you to find any discomfort. “Too fast?”

“No, just surprised,” you answered, giving him a smile, in which he sighed and chuckled.

“Good, that’s good, just follow my lead, alright?” With that, he kissed you once again, same as the pace earlier, giving you time to adjust and sink everything that you’re here, on Heeseung’s lap, making out with him.

That’s when you moved, hands finding security on his shoulder as you moved your lips to respond to his. You could feel him smirking against you, but you pay no attention to it but instead, let your lips move along the rhythm he made.

Suddenly, the room felt hot and you became more hyperaware of Heeseung. It wasn’t just his mouth that’s moving around, you could feel his arms that used to be around your waist, slowly caressing every skin it could trail, making you flinch when his cold hands went underneath your shirt, just around your back then returning to the soft plush of your waist.

Your heart was racing at what would come next, especially when you could feel something rigid and hard underneath. The sudden awareness made you shift your position, earning a groan from Heeseung. 

“Sorry —” he shuts you off with a kiss before darting his attention towards your jawline, wet, loud kisses planted over your neck where you were most sensitive. You whine at his action, hands gripping his shoulder hard and still, you didn’t push him but instead, you let yourself fall under his touch.

“No marks please,” you whispered to him as you felt him sucking the skin near your collarbones. You felt him laughing against it before he lifted up his head towards you.

“Don’t worry baby, I won’t cause you any trouble,” he winked at you after his words and you could swear you felt your cheeks flush.

“It’s getting hotter here isn’t it?” Heeseung teased as he played with the hem of your shirt. “Would it be nice for us to loosen up, right?”

“Right,” you croaked before slowly, your shaky hands found the end of your shirt and without any thought, you stripped it off, leaving you in your bra.

You noticed how Heeseung’s eyes stayed on your chest for a good minute, clearing your throat, he shifted his look towards you before a chuckle left his lips.

Heeseung did the same, throwing his shirt somewhere, baring to you his lean, naked torso and defined muscles that seem well-cared by him. You’re not new to male idols and their tendency to expose their body, but seeing Heeseung’s naked body this close made you flustered all of the sudden.

“Can I?” he asked as his hands played with the strap of your bra. You didn’t answer him but instead unclasped the clothing all by yourself. Your heart was loudly pounding and tightening as you shrugged off your bra before letting it fall on the ground. 

Heeseung captured your lips once again, and this time he was more impatient — there was a sudden strike of hunger in the way he kissed you. Torrid, reckless but still, it ignited the heat pooling inside you, hence, you battled against his lips. It felt more dangerously addictive that you couldn’t help but to lean downwards on him, hands cupping his cheeks to get a better taste.

Heeseung seemed pleased with your hunger, letting you dominate him as he busied himself with your breasts. Playing with the right side, he felt how you mewl on his lips, giving him a more plea to play with it. Heeseung flickered the hardened buds with his thumb, making you gasp as you felt the shock traveling towards your body.

The sensation slowly turned you into a needy collection of nerves. Everything’s burning and painful, especially on your core, that you couldn’t help but to buck your hips against Heeseung’s thighs. The sudden thrust halted Heeseung — and so did you.

“Shit,” you cursed, embarrassment washed all over you because of the act. “Did I — sorry, I couldn’t —”

“Hey, it’s okay, just surprise,” he assured, biting his lips because your eagerness actually felt wondrous for him. He could feel his sweats tightening, and there’s that urge for him to free his cock from its strain, but with you, he wanted to take things slow and messy.

“Do that again for me, pretty, can you?” he asked, hands on your waist as if he was guiding you to move your hips once again.

You rolled your hips slowly this time. A loud gasp left your lips as your core grinded directly on his hard cock. Your clit was getting rubbed against your wet panty that you couldn’t help but to move once again, finding friction despite the clothed barrier between you two.

“Fuck — more, harder baby, feel how hard cock against you right?” Heeseung moaned, making you move harder and deeper, too lost in the sensation that you never felt before.

“It’ll be better if we take off our clothes baby, is that okay?” Heeseung suggested, making you stop.

“Oh…if that’s okay with you,” you told him.

“Whatever you want, baby, I’d like that too,” he answered and you found yourself getting off his lap.

You unbutton your shorts and push it down in an awkward manner, kicking it off along with your socks while Heeseung stood up from his seat and untied the drawstrings of his sweats. He left himself in his playboy boxer and your eyes wouldn’t leave the sight.

The print indicated that he was big. His cock was already standing tall, hard and straining against the cloth but it seemed like Heeseung didn’t care about it, not when he pulled you towards his bed and made you sit on his lap again. Now, in a more thinner barrier of both undergarments, you could feel him further — the length, its hardness, and how warm it is against your clothed cunt.

“Have you ever tried this one?” he asked, making you burst out in a fit of laughter.

“Did you say that on purpose?” you raised an eyebrow, hands brushing his messy blonde hair.

“You looked nervous, hope it’ll lessen the tension,” Heeseung observed and your lips thinned into a small smile.

“Well maybe I am slowly starting to be convinced,” you whispered to him, you felt him shift underneath, hands tightening on your waist while your hands caressed his face.

He smirked, “Convinced what?”

“That your dick game is good,” you teased before closing the gap. Heeseung reciprocated it immediately, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow as you started to move your hips in a slow, precise motion where your cunt grinds through his thick shaft.

“Can I?” he asked in between your kisses, his hands trailing around the curve of your ass, and you nodded eagerly, letting him squeeze the soft flesh as he guided you to hump further on him.

The anticipation heated in your body further. There’s that weird churn that slowly rises from your stomach that you could no longer ignore. Moving on your own, you humped on Heeseung’s lap like a rabbit in heat, while simultaneously capturing his lips in a more torrid and passionate manner.

You could feel it, your body getting sticky with sweat, Heeseung’s deep groans every time your cunt brushed on his shaft. He felt you on the edge that his hands found its way towards your waist and helped you move more precisely on his lap. 

“Want to see you get off just from humping on my cock,” Heeseung stated in between your kisses. He stopped and looked up to you, and you observed how starstruck he was. The thought made you whine as your hips never stop, chasing after that broiling heat on your core.

“Shit! — H-heeseung,” you whimper, already a mess as your eyes turned glassy while your body’s becoming too sensitive. You shifted yourself higher, nudging his head with your clit, making both of you moan in unison.

“Right there baby — fuck! Look at your panties, all wet and ruined for me.” Heeseung taunted as he kissed the shell of your ear, the act felt sweet and fluttering against the obscene act you two were doing.

“O-oh! oh my god — I —”

“Go on baby, come for me,” his words felt like a command because in just a second, something snapped inside your stomach and a never-felt sensation took over your body. You freezed at the sudden feeling, holding tightly on Heeseung’s shoulder while he watched you fall apart on top of him. 

“Great?” he asked while you were sinking in what just happened. 

“I — wait…wow,” you muttered, catching your breath while your body tense around him. Slurring mindlessly as you still haven't processed your orgasm while Heeseung watched you patiently.

“You alright? Do you want to rest for a bit?”

“What about you?” you asked, seeing that he’s still hard and aching.

“Oh me? Don’t worry, I’m just giving you time to rest and process everything,” from there, his gaze sharpened, something on him shifted. “We were just getting started after all.”

“I should get you off too,” you convinced but he shook his head.

“Y/n, this is all about you alright? Don’t worry about me,” he insisted.

“That sounds unfair.”

“We have hours for me to get off sweetheart, but for now, let’s just help you relax,” he didn’t let you rebut more. The next thing you knew, your back thud against his bed’s mattress before he hovered over you.

Your heart stopped for a moment, gazing at him who’s naked, sweaty, yet insanely, godlike as he stared at you as if you’re his meal tonight.

“Just lay there and be pretty for me,” he smirked and your heart was beating at the thought of what he was about to do. 

You watched as he gazed upon you for a second before rolling out his tongue, and started flickering your nipples while his other hand rolled the other side — all while maintaining eye contact with you.

“Hee —” you weren’t able to finish your sentence when he latched his mouth on the right mould of your breast. Sucking the nipples hard and needy before releasing it with a loud pop.

Heeseung abandoned your breast that moment. Leaving a lighthearted kiss in the middle before he started kissing your underboobs, then darting towards your stomach, until his mouth reached your navel — and then he stopped, eyeing on your panty before looking at you as if he was asking for permission.

Oh. 

“You’re gonna go down on me?” you asked, flustered.

“Do you not want me to?” he asked you back.

“No, just — fine, I trust you,” you answered, nervous and yet, curious at the feeling of someone going down on you.

“If it’s too overwhelming just tug my hair twice or thrice,” Heeseung instructed and that made you let out a chuckle.

“Why does it sound like you want your hair getting pulled?”

But Heeseung quickly hushed you, “that’s between you and me sweetheart.”

Without a word, his hands trailed on the waistline of your panty, tugging it down in one swift movement, leaving you completely naked. Instantly, you closed your legs but Heeseung casually grabbed your thighs, pushing it open for him. 

He stared at your puffy, still sensitive pussy, twitching at nothing before glance at you, looking naive and innocent as you lay gorgeously in his bed. Heeseung swore he almost cum at the sight. He could feel his hard cock aching to be released, twitching harder due to its sensitivity, but he chose to ignore it as he lay down flat on his stomach.

You weren’t able to do anything when he grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to him. His fingers found their way to your entrance, sliding on its lips up to its clit where he felt your legs shudder at the sudden contact.

Heeseung didn’t say anything — the next thing you felt was his tongue swiping upright on your cunt. The sudden action made you moan so loud that it echoed inside the room. You slapped your mouth hard in embarrassment while Heeseung chuckled faintly before giving your core another fat stripe.

“Don’t cover those sounds pretty, let me hear it,” Heeseung ordered, looking up to you with his eyes sharper than earlier. Your heart started to pound as you quickly nodded to his words. Heeseung seemed satisfied, lowering his head once again to devour your cunt with much devotion — leaving you breathless and spewing a series of breathy moans.

The sensation felt new to you, more intimidating yet hot to the core. It didn’t help that you could hear how lewd and loud Heeseung fucks your cunt using his tongue. The wet, slurping sound should’ve disgusted you but the feeling was undeniably heavenly that it made your toes curled. 

“Holy shit, Heeseung!” you screamed, too loud and whiny as you grabbed a fistful of his hair before tugging it once. The action made the man groan against your pussy, sending shockwaves on his cock — feeling it more needy and aching against the flat surface of his bed, Heeseung could help but to grind his cock against it. It was begging for release that his hips started to move on its own. 

The two of you are too lost in chasing one’s pleasure. Heeseung’s tongue never left your pussy not once, burying his face further as he focused on flickering that little bundle of nerves, and at the same time, his hips continued rocking back and forth chasing his own high. It didn’t help that you’re pulling his hair harder than before, the sensation only made his cock throb harder as everything’s becoming too much on his side.

You came first, in a soft high-pitched whine as Heeseung removed his tongue and instead, sucked your clit hard. His tongue rolled around the bud as his lips drank every juice your cunt released. He didn’t stop, not even when you’re tugging his hair too tight that his scalp’s burning, it just edges him off, grunting against your cunt as his hips continue rocking against his bed.

Just in a snap, his orgasm came unexpectedly and he visibly shook, cum staining his boxers as he released nonstop after all that painful edging. His grunts were held back as Heeseung held on to your thighs tight enough that it’ll leave a bruise. You didn’t even notice that he had come, so immersed in your own pleasure that the next thing that only occurred in your almost sane mind was how Heeseung sat up on his bed, messy yet satisfied.

“Can you take more, pretty?” he asked, smirking as he moved to take off his soiled boxers, not even giving you a warning about his next move.

Your eyes went wide that it might pop out of its socket.

To say that he’s big is an understatement. Heeseung’s huge — hung, fucking hung that you froze at its sheer size. You barely remember your ex-boyfriend’s cock but suddenly, he doesn’t matter anymore, not when this one night stand had given you more than one orgasm compared to him.

“You look scared,” he teased and you didn’t react immediately.

“Will that fit?” you said, stuttering.

“We’ll make it fit,” he said as he sat next to you and before you could complain, Heeseung placed you in between his legs, his hard cock poking your back that you’re very hyperaware of. 

“Think you could give me more pretty? Let’s relax that silly head of yours, alright?” he whispered to yours as his hands trailed on your breasts, cupping it lightly while the other one stretched its way towards your pussy.

Heeseung didn’t ask for any permission at all, using his hind legs, he pushed your legs open for him, trapping your still shaking legs along with your sensitive pussy.

The first touch was light, featherlike, ticklish that a contented moan escaped your lips. Heeseung’s hands traveled on your clit, rubbing circles around it — not too rough nor too fast, just the right amount of tease that you resisted against it.

“Don’t struggle baby, just relax, are you still sensitive?” he asked softly, cooing as he rested his cheeks on your temples.

You nodded, and yet, your pussy’s still throbbing. It still hurts, gaping for something big enough that it’ll fill you completely.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I want it inside,” you answered.

“My fingers?” he asked, his delicate digits gathering slick around your pussy, protruding your entrance, almost teasing that you sighed in annoyance.

“Your cock…Heeseung, please,” you told him.

“Oh baby, as much as I want to, we got to prep you pretty girl,” he gives you a kiss on the temples before plunging one finger inside — completely contrasting the action earlier.

“We have to make sure it’ll fit your tight pussy, don’t we?” he teased, chuckling dark and low, as his finger thrusts in and out of your cunt, before sliding another one, catching you off-guard as his slender digits did scissoring actions to open your walls more.

With your cunt still sensitive from the previous orgasms, every move and curl gave nothing but continuous spasms on your body. You were squirming like a worm around Heeseung, breathing heavily as your hold on his arms tightened.

“Heeseung please,” you cried, not knowing what your plea was until he poked a specific area that made you arch your back naturally — that’s when he knew, chuckling like a tease he was before he hushed you by kissing the tears rolling down on your eyes.

“Is it too good pretty?” Heeseung asked and you don’t know what to say other than to cry louder. Whining like a kicked-out puppy as your nails dig on his skin deeper.

“You’re still tense baby, I could feel you clamping on my fingers,” he said with a gentle tone and yet his fingers were curling that area nonstop, faster and hastily that it’s bringing another intense feeling inside your cunt.

“I don’t think I could do it anymore,” you whispered to him before another moan knocked out of your lips.

“You can,” he said with confidence. “You’d do it for me, right?”

“Heeseung —”

“You’ll do it for me,” he ordered and his words did nothing but to push something out of you.

That’s when Heeseung felt it. The warm gush of liquid that your cunt released, completely messing his fingers.

“Fuck,” he said in disbelief as the smile on his face became wider.

“Oh my god, I’m really sorry, I didn’t know — god —” you weren’t able to finish your words when Heeseung kissed you hungrily, teeth clashing and tongue tasting every skin his lips could feel, making you whine at his intensity.

And as he broke out, he could see how red and swollen your lips were, making him satisfied as he leaned down for more, that’s when you held onto his shoulders, reciprocating his hunger while his fingers continued thrusting inside your cunt.

“Make a mess for me pretty, keep fucking doing that,” he commanded, curling that spot that made you squirt nonstop. He continued abusing that spot until his bed’s completely wet and your thighs were nothing but a mess, mixed with every slick and juice your pussy had released.

Without any words, you’ve reached your orgasm. A high-pitched scream echoed inside his room as your legs shook at the intensity. Heeseung didn’t stop even when your eyes were turning white, in fact, he was humming teasingly as he saw you all worn-out and melting under his touch.

“Don’t sleep on me pretty,” Heeseung said as he pulled out his fingers out of your sensitive pussy, making you cry at the sudden loss. He gently lays you down as he lets you rest for a moment, giving you ample time to breathe and relax before the real deal.

Heeseung reached out on his side table, opening the second drawer, he pulled out a strip of condoms and with much precision, snapped one and ripped the wrapper open.

He rolled the condom around his length, moaning in satisfaction as he began stroking his hard shaft, preparing himself as he crawled back to you who seemed to be still in the high of your previous orgasm.

Heeseung relaxed you for a moment, leaving soft, short kisses on your jawline and downwards your neck, giving off a ticklish sensation that made you moan quietly.

“Ready pretty?” he whispered while continuing to leave kisses on your sensitive skin.

“Hmm,” you hummed unknowingly but Heeseung didn’t stop at all.

“Words pretty, come on,” he gestured and the only thing you did was hold onto his shoulders as another whine left your lips.

“Ruin me Heeseung,” you said to him and something about what you said shifted something in Heeseung’s mind.

“Baby, you don’t know what you’re asking,” he said with a smirk. “You’re already ruined, look at you.” 

He didn’t let you say another word. Heeseung pulled you into his grasp, his hard length, standing tall and proud, poking your inner thighs that you were suddenly jolted into reality.

“You don’t know that I’m just holding back from ruining you further,” Heeseung taunted, stroking his cock on your entrance. The fat tip slides teasingly on your entrance. It was warm and fuck — does it feel wondrous yet dangerously teasing. It didn’t help that Heeseung’s rubbing it at your clit at any chance he could have, making you whimper at his actions.

“Put it inside please, please Heeseung,” you whimpered, almost a cry as your hands tightly held onto his bed’s sheets.

“Relax for me first,” he ordered, spreading your legs further before gently nudging the blunt head of his dick on your entrance. He almost cursed. He could feel how his tip’s barely inside and yet, your cunt’s already hugging it tight.

Heeseung pushed it in, slow and careful, stretching your cunt open for his cock. He slides slowly, letting you adjust to its girth while your hands had crumpled the sheets hard, absolutely clueless that his fat cock’s going to rip your walls apart.

He went all the way, completely filling your pussy all the way to the end. The thought of it gave nothing but severe chills on you, and yet, you never felt this level of bliss before. 

“You with me?” he asked and you nodded feverishly.

“You’re big,” you babbled, and Heeseung only stared before letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ll start moving, alright?” he said.

“Hmm, please move,” you told him.

Heeseung slowly moved his hips. You could feel him thrusting inside you slow and gentle, careful not to hurt you as slowly, the pain inside your core was being replaced with the pleasure of how his cock penetrated your walls all the way in. 

“More please,” you blurted out. 

“More?” Heeseung teased as he grabbed your legs, placed the right one on his shoulder and the other one wrapped around his waist. The new position gave him more leverage to pound inside your tight pussy, and this time, Heeseung’s not holding back anymore.

The room’s hotter than before, and everything smelled like perfume, and body fluids. Everything’s becoming too much for you as your moans and the lustful sounds coming from Heeseung’s mouth mixed along with the way his thighs slapped on your cunt hard — additional to that, The Weeknd’s still playing in the background. 

You don’t know that you’d be able to reach this level of high. Suddenly, you couldn’t think of anything other than how Heeseung pounded on you senselessly like an animal in heat, and yet, it feels so damn heavenly. You could feel your body melting on the bed, grip on his sheet loosened and your eyes were getting drowsy, drowned in the ecstasy of the act, while Heeseung didn’t say a word as he kept on ramming his cock inside your tight cunt.

Christ. Your head’s spinning and you’re slowly levitating with the way Heeseung’s cock slides in and out of your tight pussy. Heeseung noticed it quickly, how light you feel now, only soft moans and whines escaping your lips. You were getting numbed and that only made his cock twitch in satisfaction as he pounded inside you harder than before. 

“Feels good angel? Look at you drunk on my cock, you’re barely even moving,” Heeseung taunted. Seeing you unmoving, eyes turning white as your body shakes, his mind is slowly getting into him. He thrusted harder, more precise at a certain spot that had you moaning unknowingly. 

Heeseung’s fucking you into oblivion. You don’t have total control of yourself anymore. You just placed every single amount of yourself into him while he continued to plunge his cock all the way. Both of you were already messy. Sweat mixing, and obscenity could be heard with how his cock squelched as he pounded on your dripping pussy.

If that wasn’t enough, Heeseung reached for your clit, stroking it lightly that you jolted at the pleasure. You screamed hard and loud, shouting his name as the churn in your stomach became too hard to deny at all.

“Going to come now angel?” Heeseung asked, hovering at you, almost folding the leg on his shoulder. His thrust never stopped, pounding inside you at that sharp yet precise movement that it’s the only thing you could sense despite being overstimulated.

A whimper was your answer and that was his only cue, he focused on ramming your cunt. Bruising your cervix at every brush it makes. Your walls became more tighter and warmer, clamping around his cock that Heeseung could feel his orgasm brewing too. 

“Fuck pretty —” a mixture of groan and whimper escaped his lips as he bites his lips hard, wounding it as his cock twitch sensitively. 

“Heeseung —”

“Gonna come too baby, you with me?”

You nodded, eager and greedy to chase your high. Heeseung’s hands grabbed your waist and without any thought, lifted your torso as he pounded inside you nonstop as if you were just a fleshlight to him.

The coil snapped and in just a second, both your orgasms came. Echoes of moans and cries filled the room, as your body shook feverishly at the intensity. Your legs had lost its strength, falling on the side while Heeseung gripped on your waist tight, releasing his cum inside the condom before pulling out without any thought.

He stroked his cock messily, rubbing his slit to release more of his cum, completely staining his hands and your stomach while you catch your breath. You didn’t complain further as you felt his warm cum mark you completely. 

Seconds turned, minutes passed and Heeseung laid on his back next to you. Both of you were totally ruined. Hair disheveled, bed wet with the mixture of fluids, as the high remained in your body and mind. 

“You with me?” Heeseung asked out of nowhere.

You hummed as an answer. “I don’t want to move.”

That’s when Heeseung sat up from his place, glancing at you whose eyes were drowsy.

“Go take a rest, I’ll just get you some water,” Heeseung said, brushing your hair so lightly that you couldn’t help but to lean onto it.

Slowly, your eyes closed and as Heeseung watched you fall in your deep slumber, he gave you a short kiss on the cheeks before standing up to clean himself. 

-

You don’t know what time you woke up.

All you know is that you’re clothed now, the sheets were already cleaned and replaced, and there’s even a blanket thrown over you.

You tried to sinked-in where you are right now, recalling everything that happened earlier as you glance at the person who’s sitting on his computer chair, mixing some tunes on his pc — that’s when it hit you.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, and yet, that’s enough for Heeseung to turn around and look at you.

“You’re awake,” he said, relieved.

“What time is it?” you asked, looking around his room for a clock.

“It’s two-thirty,” Heeseung casually replied and yet, your eyes widened.

“What!?” 

“Well, you were knocked-out dead after we…and Riki also let his girlfriend rest, so we didn’t want to bother waking you up.” Heeseung nonchalantly explained.

“Shit, my manager’s going to kill me,” you said before standing up but almost stumbled because your legs were numb and your pussy’s sore. If it wasn’t for Heeseung who caught you immediately, you were probably on the floor now.

His arms were on your waist, helping you stand carefully while you muttered curses under your breath.

“Huh, I guess the sex didn’t help you relax at all,” Heeseung observed, seeing how agitated you were.

You stopped, remembering why you ended up oversleeping. The two of you stared at each other for a second, and that’s when you felt your heart beating fast again as the rush of blood flushed on your cheeks.

Then you remembered how he was earlier. The sex, his dick — and how he took care of you after the act. You couldn’t believe that Heeseung’s real, and you just had sex with him earlier. He really didn’t lie when he said his dick game was good.

“Sorry, I overreacted again, where is she?” you asked, guilt washing on you.

His hand loosened on your waist. He hummed, “She’s still asleep, Riki said if you woke up, we could wake her up now, would you like that?”

“Of course, thank you.”

“No problem, let’s wait outside, alright?” he suggested and you nodded. Immediately, you two went outside, returning to the living room where it’s audibly quiet now.

“Heeseung,” you called out, almost stuttering. Heeseung turned around and looked at you.

“Thank you, the sex did help me, I slept like a baby afterwards, thank you,” you said softly, almost embarrassed and yet, Heeseung smiled sweetly.

“Dick game that good?” he teased and you only chuckled.

“Yeah, fortunately,” you admitted and Heeseung laughed at your answer.

Not a few minutes later, Heeseung returned to the living room with your co-member and Riki. your worries fade out when she looks happy and satisfied that you didn’t pry further. She bid goodbye to her boyfriend, hugging him as if it’ll be the last time they’ll see each other.

Young love. You thought, watching them, that you didn’t notice Heeseung standing beside you.

“Hey,” he said, making you glance at him.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Here,” he handed you a folded paper and you looked at it confused.

“What’s this for?” you asked, opening it and seeing a number and Heeseung’s name on it.

“Just in case you have babysitting duty again,” he winked. “Or not, you know where you’ll contact me.”

You stared at him and he gave you a smile, you returned it immediately as you placed the paper in your short’s pocket, because who knows, maybe you’ll do another babysitting duty again, so might as well inform him beforehand, right?

You wouldn't have thought that the cardboard box in your arms would be heavier than it has any right to be, given it's mostly filled with towels and a lamp that probably won't survive the move. You shift it against your hip, phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as Jungwon's voice crackles through the speaker.

"—and the landlord said the water pressure is good, but you should still check the boiler room, okay? Just in case. Mom keeps asking if you've eaten."

"I've eaten," you say, dumping the box onto the kitchen counter. The sound echoes in the empty space. "I ate a granola bar on the drive."

"That's not eating. You usually eat much more than that, Y/N."

You almost laugh. The corners of your mouth twitch, yet the energy to actually produce the sound feels too expensive. The new apartment is small, already making you hyperaware of your own breathing. White walls, beige carpet, a window that overlooks a fire escape and the back of a laundromat. It's nothing like your old place. And that's totally the point.

"There's a coffee shop down the street," you say instead, peering through the smudged glass of the window. "I saw it when I pulled in."

"Good, you should go there. Drink something with sugar and call me if you need anything."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The line goes dead, and the silence in the apartment rushes back in to fill the space. You stand there for a minute, only breathing, letting your new life settle into your bones. New city with a new apartment, and no memories of the last three years to trip over on your way to the bathroom.

You grab your keys and head out. The neighborhood is weirdly quiet even in the afternoon, it feels like everyone is holding their breath. Old brick buildings line the street, their facades streaked with years of rain. A bodega on the corner, a laundromat, and there, wedged between a bookstore and a clothing shop, the coffee shop. It's decorated with mismatched chairs and a counter cluttered with jars of homemade pastries. You order a black coffee because you don't trust your brain to make decisions, and you take it to a table by the window. You're halfway through the cup, watching a pigeon peck at a discarded wrapper, when the sky opens up. The rain comes down in sheets, loud and violent, rattling against the glass like it's trying to get in. You watch it for a while, then check your phone. It's already 5 PM.

"Excuse me," you say, approaching the counter. The barista, a tired-looking woman with flour on her apron, looks up. "Do you have an umbrella I could borrow? I just moved in across the street, I'll bring it back."

She blinks at you before she disappears into the back, returning a moment later with a flimsy black umbrella. It looks like the one you buy at a bodega for five dollars and immediately regret. "Keep it," she says. "We have like twelve of these."

The rain hasn't let up by the time you step outside. You pop the umbrella open, holding it tight as the wind tries to wrestle it from your grip. The street is a river now, the buildings blurred through the curtain of water. You walk quickly, splashing through puddles, your sneakers already soaked.

The apartment building is a relief when it comes into view. You duck into the alcove of the entrance, shaking water from your hair, and fumble with the umbrella to close it. The mechanism catches on something, and you jerk it, frustrated, only to have it flip open in a violent snap. A spray of water arcs outward, catching the person passing behind you square in the chest.

You freeze.

He freezes.

For an agonizing long moment, neither of you dare to move. He's standing half in the rain, half out, his white t-shirt now clinging to his torso with a growing dark patch. His hair is damp at the ends, dark brown and curling slightly. His eyes ; wide and startled ; scan your face with intensity, making you want to quickly apologize, but the words get caught somewhere in your throat.

His expression falters for the briefest moment. The certainty in his eyes gives way to hesitation, his gaze tracing your features as though something refuses to add up. His head tilts slightly, thoughtful rather than confused. You brace yourself for annoyance. For the kind of clipped anger that would be entirely justified.

Rather than that, he blinks, and a smile touches the corner of his mouth. It's not quite a smile, more like the ghost of one, uncertain and clumsy. "Hi," he says. His voice is a little rough, maybe from the cold. "Sorry, I was—do I know you?"

You shake your head, clutching the umbrella tightly. "I don't think so. I just moved in. I'm sorry about your shirt."

He glances down at the wet patch before looking back up at you. "Don't worry about it. It's just water." He's still looking at you, though. Too fucking long. His gaze lingers, waiting for...something. Whatever it is never comes. With a shake of his head, he drags a hand through his wet hair before a tiny smile finds its way onto his face, warming the corners of his eyes. "I'm Jake. I live in 9C down the hall."

"Y/N," you say. "5C."

"Welcome to the building."

"Thanks."

The rain continues to fall, filling the space between you with noise. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and you realize you're both just standing there, awkward and dripping, with nothing else to say.

"Well," he says, "I should probably go change. Before I catch a cold."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry again."

"Don't be."

He heads for the elevator, and you watch him go, his wet footprints staining the floor. He pauses with his hand on the button, and for only a second, you think he might turn back or might say something else. But then the door swings open, and he disappears inside.

You stand there for another minute, the broken umbrella dangling from your hand, the rain hammering against the awning above you. The feeling of his gaze on your face lingers, unsettled, like a half-remembered dream.

You close the apartment door behind you and lean against it. The key is still in your hand. The broken umbrella is still in the other. Your socks are soaked through because you forgot to wipe your feet.

None of that registers.

Because Jake ; apartment 9C, white t-shirt, gray hoodie, hole in his jeans ; had a face that shouldn't exist outside of Renaissance paintings and the occasional fever dream. Sharp jaw and messy hair that looked intentional even though it definitely wasn't. And his eyes, soft and curious, doing that slow scan of your features like he was reading something he couldn't put down.

You slide down the door until you're sitting on the floor.

This doesn't happen to you.

No—correction. This has never happened to you. You've read about it, sure. Pages in secondhand paperbacks where the protagonist trips and falls into a stranger's arms and he just happens to have cheekbones that could cut diamonds. You've rolled your eyes at those scenes and called them unrealistic. You told yourself that real life doesn't come with lighting cues and slow motion. However, standing on those steps with rain dripping off his chin and an animal shelter's worth of grime on his wrist, he had no business being that striking. That disarming. That stupidly attractive.

Your brain caught on the way he'd looked at you. Not like he was checking you out but more like he was searching for something. A flicker of recognition that didn't meant nothing if you recoil on it. And after that the shrug, and the introduction so smooth it had to be accidental.

Jake.

You press the heels of your palms against your eyes. Are you freaking kidding me ?

"You're being ridiculous." you tell the empty apartment.

Three hours later, you've unpacked exactly one box ; where it cointained your sheets and a single mug shaped like a cactus that Jungwon bought you as a joke three birthdays ago. The mug is now sitting on the kitchen counter, empty, staring at you judgmentally.

He keeps finding his way back into your thoughts. Not because you're trying to hold on to him, and surely not because you can't move on. It happens almost absentmindedly, the way your brain revisits familiar things when it's left alone. How his voice sounded slightly wrecked, like he'd been yelling or laughing or both. The smudge on his wrist ; potting soil, probably, if the canvas bag full of clinking jars was any indication. Pickles? Jam? The man had twelve jars of something and dirt on his hands and he lived four apartment next to yours.

You catch your reflection in the bathroom mirror and frown at yourself.

"Girl, you don't even know his last name." you say.

You go to bed early because there's nothing else to do. The new apartment sounds are unusual, there's more creaks and fewer sirens. At 2:17 AM, someone in the building starts playing the guitar badly. You fall asleep to a mangled rendition of "Wonderwall".

─────────

The alarm drags you from sleep sharply. You bat at your phone until the noise stops, and lie there, blinking at the still unfamiliar ceiling, reacquainting yourself with the fact that this is your life now. Everything was going to be new now.

By the time you've wrestled yourself into something presentable, you're already running five minutes behind. You skip breakfast, grab your bag, and lock the door behind you.

The elderly home sits at the end of a tree-lined street, a squat brick building, you almost mistook it for a community center. The receptionist gives you a visitor's badge and points you toward the common room, where a handful of residents are scattered across armchairs, some dozing, some staring at a muted television, one engaged in a heated argument with a plant.

You're barely through the door when a woman appears at your elbow, small and bright-eyed, with a name tag that reads Hanni in cheerful block letters. "New hire?" she asks, already steering you toward a supply closet. "Thank god. I've been doing double shifts for three weeks. I'm Hanni. You're Y/N. I read your file. It said you have experience with dementia patients. That's good, because Jacob over there—" she jerks her chin toward a man in a cardigan who's now trying to feed his coffee to the plant, "—thinks he's a squirrel."

You blink. "A squirrel?"

"Don't ask. Just go with it. If he offers you acorns, take them."

The day unfolds. You help Mrs. Han find her glasses (they were on her head), you listen to Mr. Eom's stories about a bakery he ran forty years ago, and you learn the exact difference between the "good" applesauce and the "bad" applesauce. Hanni works beside you with effortless competence, cracking jokes under her breath and seamlessly redirecting residents who wander toward the exit. "You're pretty good at this," she says during a break, as you both stand at the nurses' station, scribbling notes. "Most new people get that deer-in-headlights look for at least a week. You just sort of absorbed it."

You shrug, not sure how to explain that this ; the slow pace, the gentle repetition, the small dignities of helping someone remember their own name ; it feels like the only thing you're certain about these days. "It's not that hard. They just want to be seen."

Hanni studies you for a moment, something curious flickering behind her eyes. Then she nods, and the moment passes.

Your shift ends, your feet ache and your brain feels pleasantly fuzzy, which doesn't leave room for anxiety. You change out of your scrubs, say goodbye to Hanni, and step out into the evening air.

The street is calm, the rain from yesterday reduced to a thin dampness on the pavement. You're walking toward your building, hands shoved in your jacket pockets, when you round the corner and nearly collide with someone coming the other way.

Fuck, it's him.

Jake.

He's wearing a different shirt ; navy this time, sleeves pushed up to his elbows ; and he's carrying a cardboard pack of beer tucked under one arm. His hair is dry, pulled up in a little ponytail at the back, and the sight of him in the golden light of early evening hits you like a delayed punch.

"Oh," you say. Why now?

He stops. For a heartbeat, something unsettles his expression, his eyes lingering on you a fraction too long. Then, it melts away, something softer taking place. "Hey. Y/N, right?"

"Oh, you remembered." The words come out flatter than you wanted them to be, yet your pulse is doing a ridiculous drum solo again.

"I remember a lot of things," he says, there's a strange weight to the phrase, like he's saying something else underneath it. He gestures with the beer. "You're heading back?"

"Yeah. I just finished my first day at the elderly home down the street."

"How was it?"

"Exhausting. Good, though. I think. One of the residents offered me a fake acorn, so I'm taking that as a sign of approval."

He laughs, low and surprised, you can see that he didn't expect to find it funny. "That's a pretty solid endorsement. I'd trust fake acorn guy over most people."

You fall into step together, and you notice how he adjusts his pace to match yours, shortening his stride just slightly. The street stretches ahead, lined with those old brick buildings, the sky above streaked with pale orange and lavender. You nod toward the beer. "Expecting company, or is that just for personal purpose?"

He glances down at the pack, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm having friends over tonight. A couple of guys from the shelter—I work at the animal shelter a few blocks over. We do this thing every other Thursday. It's mostly just eating takeout and arguing about which dog breed is objectively the best."

"Which one is?"

"Rescue," he says immediately. "All of them."

You snort. "I think so too."

"Right? This is why we're going to get along." He says it casually, the words land in your chest with an unexpected weight.

The building comes into view, its facade warm in the fading light. He holds the door open for you, and you step into the foyer, the familiar smell of old carpet and someone's cooking drifting through the hallway. At your door you fumble for your keys, and he lingers, shifting the beer from one arm to the other.

"Good first day," he says. "At the job, I mean."

"Thanks." You find the right key, fit it into the lock. "Have fun with your friends. Try not to let the argument escalate into a physical altercation."

"No promises. We're very passionate about this." He's already turning, already stepping back toward his door, when something makes you call out : "Jake."

He stops and looks back.

"Thanks for walking me," you say. "Even if you didn't have to."

A small shrug. "It's fine. I wanted to, anyway." And he's already gone, his footsteps echoing in the corridor, and you're left standing in your doorway, keys still in hand, watching the space where he was.

You unlock the door, step inside, and close it behind you. The apartment is mostly empty, since your laziness won over you to unpack the rest of your stuff. You press your back against the door and stare at the ceiling.

This, you think, is exactly the kind of thing I'd roll my eyes at in a book.

Regardless, you can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, slow and helpless and embarrassingly real.

You're sprawled across the couch, legs tangled in a throw blanket, the glow of the television painting your face in shifting blues and reds. Some reality show about people competing to bake things that look like other things. It's mindless and perfect, exactly the sort of programming that requires zero cognitive effort. Your oversized t-shirt hangs off one shoulder with Justin Bieber's face from his Purpose World Tour, faded and cracked from years of washing. Below that, nothing but a pair of plain cotton panties. Your hair is messy, and there's a half-empty mug of tea growing cold on the floor beside you. You're comfortable. Vulnerable, maybe, but in the privacy of your own space, and that's all that matters.

Your gaze wanders into the kitchen and lands on the trash bin that is overflowing with flattened boxes and crumpled packing paper, the remains of a move you’re still halfway through. It doesn’t look like much, but you know it’ll be the first thing to irritate you in the morning if it’s left untouched. You weigh the options. Get dressed and actually put on pants, find a bra, the whole tedious ritual, or just…go. It's a quick trip. The trash chute is at the end of the hallway, maybe twenty steps from your door. The corridor has been empty all evening. And Jake has friends over. He's occupied. He's not going to be lurking around corners, waiting to ambush you with his inconveniently-timed presence.

Nobody will see you, you tell yourself. It's fine. You're fast as fuck.

You pad to the door, press your eye to the peephole. The hallway stretches, empty. Clear. You crack the door open, just wide enough to slip through, and you're out, barefoot, the cold floor sending a shiver up your legs. The trash bag is heavier than you expected ; you hoist it against your hip, jogging in that awkward, flat-footed way of someone who's both in a hurry and deeply aware of their own exposure. The chute is a metal hatch in the wall. You heave it open, shove the bag inside, hear it clatter down into the abyss. Mission accomplished.

You turn, already planning your retreat, and—

He's standing three feet away. Oh fuck off.

Jake.

He's holding a bulging trash bag of his own, the clink of glass bottles audible as he adjusts his grip. His eyes travel from your face down to the faded Bieber shirt, then back up, and there's a beat of silence where neither of you move. Your brain short-circuits and your mouth opens. What comes out is a garbled mix of syllables that might have been intended as "hey" but emerges as something closer to "heh—uh—I—"

He blinks. Slowly, the corner of his mouth twitches. "Didn't mean to startle you," he says, and his voice is level, calm, almost like he's trying to soothe a startled animal.

"You didn't—I mean, I was just—" You gesture clumsily at your attire, then at the trash chute, then back at yourself, as if this chain of context will explain everything. "The trash was full. And I didn't think anyone would be—I mean, you said you had friends—"

"Friends," he confirms. "They left about ten minutes ago. I was just cleaning up."

"Of course you were. That makes sense." You're still standing there, bare-legged, the shirt barely grazing your thighs, and the hallway suddenly feels like a wind tunnel. You cross your arms over your chest, which does absolutely nothing to help the situation. Jake doesn’t leer nor does he joke. He meets your eyes with that same searching look, softened now into quiet amusement. "You know," he says, "you have a habit of running into me in unexpected situations."

"This is your fault," you say, and the words come out sharp without real bite behind them. "You're supposed to be busy. That was the whole point."

"Sorry to inconvenience you by taking out my trash."

"You're not sorry, are you?"

"No," he admits, his half-smile edges into fuller one. "I'm not." He steps past you toward the chute, and you catch a whiff of a clean and comforting scent, the ordinary scent of someone who's recently showered. He drops his bag in, closes the hatch with a metallic thunk and turns back. "See you around, Bieber," he says, the warmth in the nickname makes your stomach flip.

He's walking back toward his apartment door, and you're standing once again, your face heating in an inexorable crawl. You wait until his footsteps fade before you scurry back to your door, slip inside, and press your back against the wood. The television is still playing, some contestant weeping over a collapsed trompe-l'oeil. You stare at the screen, unseeing.

Bieber.

You look down at the faded face on your shirt, at your bare legs, at the utter mess of your appearance, and you press the heels of your palms into your eyes like the day before. You're still standing with your back against the door, willing your face to return to a normal temperature, when the knock comes.

Three sharp raps.

Your entire body goes still. The television babbles on, oblivious, as you press your eye to the peephole. Jake. Of course. He's standing there, hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor, he's waiting for something. He's changed into a gray sweatshirt, hood down, hair slightly mussed. You don't open the door. You can't, not after what he just witnessed. Not with this shirt still on.

"What?" you call through the wood, and your voice comes out higher, strained.

"Y/N," His voice is muffled but clear. "I know you're in there."

"I'm not opening the door."

A pause. "I'm not asking you to."

"Why are you here then?"

He pauses again. You can hear him shift his weight. "I just wanted to say—" He stops, and you imagine him running a hand through his hair, figuring out how to phrase something. "The shirt. I really like it."

You press your forehead against the door. "You're lying."

"I'm not. I had that exact one in middle school and I wore it until the print started peeling off."

"That doesn't make it better."

"Maybe not." His voice carries a smile, you can hear it, the slight lift in the vowels. "I thought you should know, though. That's all."

You stay silent, unsure how to answer. The pause settles in, comfortable rather than tense, and you notice he isn’t hurrying to fill it.

"Anyways," he says finally, "goodnight, Y/N."

You hear footsteps, receding. You wait until the sound fades completely before you let out a breath you were holding deeply. Your reflection stares back at you from the peephole's warped glass, only a blur of color, but you can feel the heat still lingering in your cheeks. You push off from the door, walk back to the couch, and collapse into the cushions. The reality show contestants are still crying about pastries. You look down at Justin Bieber's faded face. At the cracked screen print and the worn collar.

He had this exact one in middle school, what a coincidence.

You pull the hem of the shirt, stretch it, let it snap back. A small, involuntary sound escapes your throat. It might be a laugh or anything else. You grab your phone, open your messages, and type out a single line to Jungwon.

Y/N [11:52 PM]

I think I'm in trouble.

But you delete it, toss the phone aside, and stare at the ceiling until your heartbeat settles to normal again.

It takes a while.

─────────

The morning came faster than you thought. You grab the umbrella on your way out ; the same flimsy black one that started this whole foolish chain of events ; and stop by the coffee shop before your shift. The barista barely glances up as you set it on the counter.

"Thanks," you say. "For letting me borrow it."

She waves a hand, already reaching for a pitcher of milk. "Keep it next time. We've got a whole graveyard of those things in the back."

You almost tell her there won't be a next time, yet the words feel like tempting fate, so you just nod and head out.

The elderly home is already rumbling when you arrive. Hanni greets you with a coffee cup thrust into your hands and a breathless update about Mr. Eom's missing dentures. You take a sip, let the caffeine do its work, and fall into the cadence of the morning.

By early afternoon, the sun is actually warm enough to justify a walk. You round up three residents ; Mrs. Han, who's having a good day and remembers your name, Mr. Chen, who doesn't say much but mumbles tunelessly under his breath and Jacob, who offered you the fake acorn. He's wearing a different cardigan today, mustard yellow, and he keeps patting his pockets like he's checking for something. The path behind the building winds through a small garden, past benches and bird feeders and a sad little fountain that hasn't worked in years. You walk slowly, matching their pace, letting Mrs. Han point out flowers she's identified incorrectly and pretending to take Jacob's commentary seriously.

It's peaceful, nearly meditative. A moment like this makes you wonder if this new life really is as bad as you thought.

Abruptly, a dog comes out of nowhere. A golden retriever ; young, gangly, all oversized paws and manic energy ; bounds across the grass with the focus of a missile. It's not aggressive and not even barking. It's excited, and its excitement is directed straight at Jacob, who is the slowest-moving, most startle-prone member of your little group. The dog lunges up before you can react, front paws slamming into Jacob’s chest. He rocks back, arms windmilling, then drops in a slow heap, feeling like it’s happening in two conflicting speeds at once.

"Jacob!" You're at his side in an instant, dropping to your knees, hands hovering unevenly. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

Jacob blinks up at you, more confused than pained. His glasses are askew. "I dropped my acorn," he says.

"I'll find it. Just—stay still. Tell me if anything hurts."

A voice cuts through the chaos, alert and breathless. "Oh god—I'm so sorry—"

You look up. Jake is sprinting toward you, the dog's leash trailing behind him like a forgotten flag. He's in work clothes ; a navy polo with the shelter's logo, dirt smudged on his forearm ; and his face is veiled with unguarded panic.

The dog, oblivious, is now trying to lick Jacob's ear.

"Leo, down!" Jake grabs the dog's collar, hauls him back with a firm yet gentle tug. "I am so, so sorry. He got loose—I was just bringing him out for a walk and he saw the—are you okay? Is he okay?"

You're already helping Jacob sit up, checking his wrists, his neck, the back of his head. No swelling or bleeding. He's still patting his pockets for the acorn.

"He's fine," you say, your voice flat. "He's just disoriented."

"Thank god." Jake exhales, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. "I really am—I should have had a better grip on the leash. He's young, he's still learning, but that's not an excuse—"

"You're right." You stand, brushing grass from your knees. "It's not."

The silence that follows is stiffling. Mrs. Han is watching with curious eyes, Mr. Chen has stopped mumbling, and Leo is now sitting at Jake's feet, tail excitedly wagging. You turn to Jake fully. "You work at a shelter. You know how unpredictable dogs can be. Especially around elderly people. One wrong jump, one fall, and it's a broken bone or a concussion. That could actually hurt someone."

Jake meets your gaze without a trace of defensiveness or excuses. He simply nods slowly, his jaw tightening in restraint. "You're right," he says. "I wasn't careful enough. I got distracted, and I let him pull ahead, and I should have anticipated that this could happen." He glances at Jacob, who is now patting Leo's head with a delighted smile. "I'm really glad he's okay. And I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

The words settle with an unexpected weight, disarming you. You were ready for deflection, for something casual and rehearsed. Regardless, he stays still, accepting it without trying to cushion the blow.

You let out a breath. The adrenaline is fading, leaving behind a shaky residue. "Be more careful," you say, and your voice is quieter now. "Please."

"I will." He holds your gaze for another beat, and crouches down to Jacob's level. "Hey, sir. That was my dog. He's really sorry. Are you okay?"

Jacob looks at him, then at Leo before his gaze goes back at his empty palm. "I lost my acorn," he says, there's a note of genuine distress in his voice. Jake doesn't miss a beat. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small smooth stone and presses it into Jacob's hand. "Here. I found this, it must've been yours."

Jacob stares at it. His face splits into a wide, gap-toothed smile. "Thank you," he says, and clutches it like treasure.

You watch it unfold, something uneasy tightening in your chest. Jake stands and meets your gaze again. A flash crosses his face ; rueful, or closer to hope. "I'll make sure he's more secured next time," Jake says, nodding toward Leo. "And if there's anything I can do—"

"There isn't," you say, but the sharpness has gone from your voice. "But still...keep a closer eye on him."

"Always." He turns and walks back toward the path, Leo trotting obediently at his heel. You watch him go, the way his shoulders are slightly hunched, how he glances back once before rounding the corner.

Mrs. Han sidles up to you. "He's cute," she states. "The boy. Not the dog."

You open your mouth, not a sound escaping your mouth. You try again.

"Mrs. Han," you say, "you're supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side," she says, patting your arm. "That's why I'm telling you."

You help Jacob to his feet, find his acorn in the grass, and start the slow walk back to the building. Your thoughts drift elsewhere, replaying Jake crouching down to Jacob’s level, finding the stone without hesitation, saying 'I will' like he truly meant it.

You shake your head, focus on the path ahead.

After you end your shift, you walk back to your apartment. The sky has gone hazy, and you keep your hands in your pockets, replaying the afternoon in fragments. You unlock your door, kick off your shoes, and collapse onto the couch. The television is still on from last night. You turn it off, let the silence settle.

You decide to pull out your phone and call Jungwon. He picks up, but the background noise is a wall of bass and overlapping voices. You can hear a bunch of voice shouting "CHUG CHUG CHUG!!!" and loud cheers. You hear a door slam, the noise muffles.

"Y/N?" His voice is slightly breathless. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," you say, and you mean it. "I just wanted to check in. You sound busy, though."

"I'm at a mixer party with my house and sororities. It's loud so I stepped outside." He stops for a second. "Are you sure you're okay? You never call this late."

"Late? It's like seven."

"Yeah. You're usually asleep by now."

You fairly laugh. "I've been more awake lately. I had a long day."

"Tell me about it."

So you do. You tell him about everything. You don't want to mention Jake.

"You sound good," Jungwon says when you finish. " Really good. Not just saying you're good."

"I think I am," you say, the words surprise you with their honesty.

"That's all I needed to hear." There's a muffled shout from behind him, someone calling his name. "I should get back. But call me anytime, okay? Even if it's just to complain about old people and dogs."

"Old people and dogs. The two pillars of my existence now."

"Don't let the dogs jump on you," he mentions, you can hear the smile in his voice.

"I won't. Have fun at your party."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

The line goes dead. You hold the phone for a moment before setting it aside, letting the quiet wrap around you. You stand, stretch, and gather your clothes for a shower, a clean towel, a change of underwear, the softest pair of sweatpants you own. You pad toward the bathroom, already anticipating the hot water, the steam, and the small escape from your own head.

You're two steps from the bathroom door when the lights flicker.

Once. Twice. It dies.

The apartment plunges into absolute darkness. No sound from the refrigerator, no glow from the microwave clock, just black, thick and total. You stand there, motionless, one hand gripping your towel, the other reaching for the wall. You feel along the switch, flick it up and down. There's nothing.

You step to the window to peer out. The streetlights are on. The building across the way is lit, warm rectangles of gold in every window. The coffee shop's neon sign still glows. You check your phone to see your battery at 60%. You switch on the flashlight, sweep it across the room. So it's only your apartment. The refrigerator is dead. The outlets are dead. The overhead light, the bathroom ; all dead. You flip the circuit breaker in the tiny panel by the door. Shit. You try the main switch. Nothing.

You stand there in the beam of your phone, your reflection ghostly in the dark window glass, wearing that stupid Justin Bieber shirt and holding a bundle of clean clothes, and you realize you have no flashlight, no candles, and mostly, no backup plan.

The silence presses in. 9C. A certain neighbor who might have a working outlet and a willingness to share. A part of you notes, almost critically, that this would be the kind of contrived convenience you’d hate in a book.

You sigh, grab your keys, and head for the door.

The hour stretches like taffy. You've tried the circuit breaker three times, called the landlord four times, and texted him twice, giving you no results. The voicemail picks up on the first ring, a generic recording without a name. You sit next to your door and consider your options. There's a motel two blocks away. There's the coffee shop, but they close in fifteen minutes. It got to be a joke.

And there's the door at the end of the hallway.

You pace. You argue with yourself. You list all the reasons this is a terrible idea ; all the incidents that happened and degraded your confidence, the fact that you've known this man for approximately forty-eight hours and he's already seen you at your most unguarded multiple times. But the need for a shower wins. You smell like old people and grass, with the sublte tang of anxiety sweat. You can't go to work like this tomorrow and you can't sleep like this tonight. So you put on a pair of shorts ; the longest ones you own ; and a different shirt, and you walk toward his door with the weight of your own dignity dragging behind you.

His door is at the end of the hall. You knock before you can talk yourself out of it. The door swings open. Jake stands there in a faded gray t-shirt and sweatpants, hair slightly damp, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. He's holding a half-eaten apple. His eyes land on you. Travel down to your shorts, back up to your face.

His mouth curves into a smile so wide, so unapologetically amused, that you feel it like a punch right in your guts.

"Bieber," he says. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Don't call me that." The words come out weak, deflated. "My power's out. The landlord won't answer and I absolutely need a shower."

He takes a bite of his apple. He chews slowly, considers you.

"Just the shower," you add, and you can hear how defensive you sound, how utterly transparent.

"I didn't say anything." He steps back, holds the door open. "Come in."

His apartment is small too, but lived-in. A couch with a blanket draped over the back. A stack of books on the coffee table. A guitar propped in the corner. The kitchen is visible from the living room, dishes drying on a rack, a pot of something that smells like garlic and tomatoes simmering on the stove. "Bathroom's down the hall, second door on the left," he says, pointing with the apple still in hands. "Towels are in the cabinet. Use whatever you need."

"Thanks." You pause at the threshold, suddenly aware of the absurdity of this. "I'll be quick."

"Take your time." That smile again, softer now. "I'll keep the apartment from burning down while you're in there."

You close the bathroom door behind you and lean against it, exhaling. Hot water, steady pressure, a luxurious flow that makes you forget every indignity that led you here. You stand under the spray as long as you can, letting it beat against your shoulders, your neck, the tension you've been carrying since yesterday. When you finally step out, wrapped in a towel, you catch your reflection in the mirror. Wet hair and pink cheeks. A stupid smile that you can't suppress.

Stop it. You wipe the steam from the mirror, and that's when you notice it. On the edge of the sink, next to a half-empty bottle of cologne, is a keychain. A small, plastic orange. Slightly faded, the paint worn at the edges.

Your breath catches. You have that exact same keychain. It's been on your keys for as long as you can remember. Well, as long as your memory goes back, which is not even a year. It's one of the few objects that survived the move, one of the small constants in the fog of your past.

You pick it up and turn it over. It's identical, even the little chip in the paint near the stem matches. You stare at it for a long moment. You dress quickly, step out into the hallway, and find Jake in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove. "Everything okay?" he asks without turning.

"Where did you get this?" You hold up the keychain.

He turns and sees it. For an instant, his expression falters into recognition before it smooths itself back into neutrality. "Oh, that." He sets down the spoon, wipes his hands on his sweatpants. "I found it, actually. A few years ago, on the street, I think. I kept it because—" He pauses, and you notice the way his eyes shift, slightly, like he's rearranging words in his head. "It reminded me of something. I don't know. I just liked it."

The explanation comes out too smooth and too rehearsed. You're wondering if he's said it before, practiced it, polished it until it sounded natural. You're not even sure why, something about how he said it, but you don't have the energy to interrogate right now. "Funny," you say, pocketing your own keys, where your matching orange dangles. "I have the same one."

He looks at you. You feel like you're standing on the edge of a cliff, for a jump you're not ready for.

"That is funny," he says, and his voice is softer now, almost distant. "Small world."

You nod, not trusting your voice. The moment stretches, fragile, and you're the one who breaks it. "I should go. Thanks for the shower."

"Anytime." He walks you to the door, and the teasing smile has returned. "If the power's still out tomorrow, you know where to find me."

"Bold of you to assume I'll survive that long."

"I have faith in you."

You roll your eyes, yet you're smiling as you step into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind you. You stand there for a moment, your keychain warm in your palm, and wonder what exactly you've just walked into. It's probably nothing, you tell yourself.

Oh it's definitely something.

─────────

A few days pass, you're unpacking one box at a time, learning where the light switches are without having to think about it, catching the same bus at the same time each morning until the driver starts to nod at you like an old acquaintance.

You see Jake in the hallways more often than coincidence should allow. Tuesday morning, you're leaving for work and he's coming back from a run, sweaty and out of breath, and he raises a hand in greeting without breaking stride. Fuck he's hot.

Wednesday evening, you're carrying a bag of groceries and he's hauling a bag of dog food toward the elevator, and you end up walking side by side without discussing it. Thursday, you don't see him at all, and you catch yourself checking the peephole before bed like a woman waiting for something she won't admit to wanting.

Friday arrives with gray skies and the particular exhaustion of a full week. You've just changed into sweatpants.

Three taps. You know who it is before you look. Jake is standing in the hallway wearing a knitted sweater and he's holding his keys in his hand. He looks different at night ; softer, somehow. The hard angles of his jaw blurred by the low light.

"I'm heading to the convenience store," he announces.

You lean against the doorframe. "It's eight o'clock."

"I'm aware. That's why I said convenience store and not, like, a sit-down restaurant." He jingles his keys. "You want to come?"

You hesitate for a second too long, and he catches it. His expression shifts into something hesitant. "For the accident," he adds. "Last week, with Jacob. I've been meaning to…I don't know. Make up for it, in a small way. This is the small way."

"You're making up for catastrophe with a trip to 7-Eleven?"

"Don't call it that. I'd rather call it a restitution." He pauses. "Also they have those frozen slushies that turn your tongue blue, and I don't want to drink one alone because that feels sad even by my standards."

You look down at your sweatpants. "Give me two minutes," you say.

"You look fine."

"I know I look fine. I want to look like I didn't just spend an hour lying on my floor thinking about nothing."

He blinks. "That's—"

"Two minutes." You close the door and change into jeans. You don't know why. It's just the convenience store after all. Although you put on real pants anyway, and you run your fingers through your hair, and when you open the door again, he's still standing there, checking his phone. "Cute," he says, not looking up.

"Shut up."

The walk is short ; five blocks, past the coffee shop with the broken umbrellas, past a laundromat, and past a house with a porch light that flickers like it's sending morse code. The air is cold enough to see your breath, and Jake walks on the street side of the sidewalk without making a thing out of it.

You two arrive at the convenience store, with the buzzing lights overhead. A bell dings when you walk in. The guy behind the counter is watching a small TV mounted in the corner, some sports game apparently.

You grab a basket and Jake grabs another. "This is a competition now," he says.

"It's always been a competition."

The snack aisle is narrow, forcing you to stand closer than necessary. You reach for a bag of chips. He reaches for the same bag. Your hands collide, and he lets you take it without a fight, which is suspicious. "You're being nice," you say.

"What do you mean? I'm always nice."

"No but, like, you're being strategically nice."

He grins. It's crooked and quick, making your chest tighten. "I just want you to let your guard down so I can steal the last bag of sour stripes."

"I don't even like sour stripes."

"Everyone likes sour stripes. That's like saying you don't like breathing."

You move down the aisle, scanning the shelves. Your fingers hover over a bag of shrimp crackers ; the spicy kind, bright red packaging, which Jungwon used to make fun of you for buying in bulk. You reach for them at the same time he does. "These," he says, pushing the bag toward you. "Get these."

"I was going to."

"They're your favorite, right?"

You stop. Your hand freezes over the bag. "I didn't tell you that."

He's already looking at the next shelf, picking up a pack of chocolate cookies, turning it over to read the nutrition facts. His expression doesn't change. His voice is casual, almost bored. "Everyone likes spicy shrimp crackers," he says. "It's not some niche preference. It's a classic. Like salt and vinegar. Or barbecue."

"That's not—"

"I'm getting these," he interrupts, holding up the cookies. "You want a drink? They have that weird melon soda. Everyone says that it tastes like liquid gummy bear."

You stare at the back of his head in confusion. He's walking toward the drink cooler, shoulders relaxed, like the conversation is already over. You grab the shrimp crackers and follow him.

The park is two blocks from your building, a small wedge of grass with three benches and a set of swings that face a community garden. The swings are old, their chains rusty, seats scratched with names and dates, but they hold your weight when you sit. Jake takes the swing next to yours. The plastic bags dangle from his wrist, crinkling every time he moves. You've split everything down the middle ; your shrimp crackers, his chocolate cookies, two bottles of the melon soda, a shared bag of sour striped that he claimed were for everyone, still you've noticed he keeps eating.

The soda fizzes when you open it. The park is empty except for the two of you and a cat sitting on a bench across the grass, watching like it's waiting for something to happen. You swing a little, just enough to rock. The chains squeak.

"My brother," you say, because the silence feels good but you want to fill it anyway. "He's the reason I moved here. Not because he lives here—he doesn't. He lives like four hours away. He helped me find the apartment and with all the packing."

Jake doesn't say anything. He's unwrapping a chocolate cookie, breaking it in half.

"He's in college now," you continue. "Fraternity guy, and he’s so serious about it, which is funny because he's also the least intimidating person I've ever met. Once he cried because I didn’t want to go with him at the dentist."

"That’s cute."

"He's sensitive." You shrug. "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this."

"I won't tell."

The cat on the bench yawns. The swings creak. You take a sip of your melon soda and watch the clouds move past the streetlights.

"Jungwon," Jake says.

You almost choke.

"What?"

"Your brother." He's looking at his hands, turning the cookie over and over. "His name. You said it. Jungwon."

You frown. Your brain backtracks through the last thirty seconds, replaying your own words. You definitely didn't say his name. You've been careful about that by habit. Jungwon is precious to you. His name is something you keep close, like a photo in a wallet. "I didn't say his name," you say slowly.

His chewing stops. His throat moves as he swallows. The openness on his face is convincing enough to pass for genuine, if not for the faint impression that he's worn it many times before.

"You didn't?"

"No."

"Huh." He dusts cookie crumbs off his fingers. "Maybe I heard it wrong, or you mentioned it before and I remembered. I don't know."

"I've never mentioned his name."

The silence stretches. The cat on the bench stands up, circles once, lies back down. He sets the cookie down on the plastic bag between you. He wipes his hands on his jeans. For a moment, he looks like he's going to say something else that might explain the way he looked at you that first night on the steps, like he was trying to place you.

His shoulders drop. "He came by," he declares. "Before you moved in. Your brother, Jungwon." He says the name carefully, testing each syllable. "He was checking out the building and making sure the landlord wasn't sketchy. I ran into him in the hallway."

You stare at him.

"He asked me about the neighborhood," Jake continues. "Whether it was safe. Whether people were friendly, and all that stuff." A small smile, almost self-deprecating. "I think he was doing a background check on all the tenants."

"That sounds like him."

"Yeah." He picks up his soda to take a long drink. "He mentioned you, and that you were moving in. I remembered."

It fits, it’s plausible. Jungwon would absolutely do something like that ; interview strangers in hallways, gather informations, build a mental map of everyone who might cross your path. He's been doing it since you were kids, since before the accident, before you forgot a quarter your life.

Nonetheless, something about how Jake tells it feels off. The words are right and the timing is too. Yet, his hands are still, and his hands are never still on the daily basis. He's always tapping or fidgeting or running his fingers through his hair, and right now, sitting on this swing in the dark, he's perfectly motionless. You want to push further. There's something in the back of your mind, a nagging feeling that you couldn’t put a finger on. You can’t, the evening is too nice, and he's bought you snacks. You let it go.

"Small world," you say, echoing his words from the night when you took a shower at his place.

"Small world," he agrees.

─────────

You walk into the elderly home with your hair still damp and the taste of the spicy shrimp crackers lingering at the back of your throat. Hanni's already at the nurses' station, flipping through a clipboard with focus, she’s been here for hours. "You look less dead than yesterday," she says without looking up. "That's progress."

"I slept." You hang your jacket on the hook and grab your name tag. "Almost eight hours. Uninterrupted."

"Must be the neighborhood atmosphere." She finally glances at you, there's a knowing tilt to her mouth. "Or something else."

You ignore that last part. The morning unfolds like every other morning ; the slow parade of residents who need help finding their glasses or their dentures or their way back to their rooms. Mrs. Han asks you three times if you've met her son, and you say yes each time, and each time she looks satisfied and moves on. You're in the common room, helping Mr. Chen with a puzzle he's been working on for weeks, when your gaze drifts toward the window. The street outside is quiet, the morning light still pale and thin. And there, on the other side, is Jake. Can he not look hot for just one day?

He's walking three dogs at once ; a golden retriever, a wiry terrier, and a bulldog that seems to be leading the pack. The leashes cross and uncross as the dogs weave around each other, and Jake's holding them with the practiced looseness of someone who's done this a hundred times. He's wearing a worn denim jacket and a few strands of hair are falling on his face, and when he glances up and spots you through the glass, his whole face shifts. He lifts his free hand to give you a small wave, fingers wiggling. You wave back, your brain couldn’t catch.

The bulldog tugs him forward and he's gone, swallowed by the next block. You turn back to the room. Hanni's standing beside you, arms crossed, watching the empty street with an ambiguous expression plastered on her face. "That’s him?" she asks.

"Yeah."

She hums in a considering sound. "He's fucking hot."

You snort, but it comes out wrong, sounding a bit too defensive. "Yeah. He knows it too, I think."

"He doesn't seem like the type who knows it." She shrugs, uncrossing her arms. "He's unaware of his own face."

You don't respond. You're already looking back at the window, though he's long gone. "His nose," you say, the words stumbling right out of your head. "That's the thing. I can't—" You stop yourself, shake your head. "It's nothing."

Hanni could only nod, she understands and hands you a stack of folded towels. "Focus on the towels," she says. "The nose can wait."

You take the towels and get back to work. The image of him across the street stays with you for the rest of the shift.

The sidewalk cracks under your feet as you walk, the sky a pale gray that threatens nothing in particular, hopefully not rain. You pull out your phone, scroll to Jungwon's contact, and press call. He picks up after some time, which means he's either not busy or he's avoiding something.

"What’s up?" he says. "You're calling at a normal time. That's kind of suspicious."

"I'm walking home from work and I thought I'd fill the silence."

"Fill away."

As you ramble on everything, you don’t allow yourself to bring up Jake yet.

"Sounds like you're settling in," Jungwon says. "That's really good, Y/N."

"Yeah." You kick a pebble off the curb. "It's weird, though. Sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be starting over. It just feels like—I don't know. Like I've been here longer."

"You have been there longer. In a way." His voice drops, careful. "You lived there before. Remember?"

You stop walking. A car passes, its headlights cutting through the dusk. You do remember—fragments, not really. The knowledge that you'd been in this city before the accident and the three-year gap in your memory. You'd chosen to come back because something about it felt familiar, even if you couldn't know why.

"Yeah," you say. "I keep forgetting that part."

Silence on his end. You start walking again. "There's this guy," you say carelessly, and you already regret it. "In my building. His name is Jake. We keep running into each other."

"What kind of running into?"

"Literally and figuratively. He nearly killed one of the old folk at my work. Long story." You suddenly pause. "He has this orange keychain. The same one I have. You know, the little fruit thing on my keys."

You can hear him breathing, he's seems like measuring his response. "That's weird," he says. "That's a weird coincidence."

"Yeah, I know." You wait for him to say more but he doesn't. "He also said he met you when you came to check out the apartment before I moved in. You talked in the hallway, isn’t it?"

"I did talk to someone. I don't remember his name, though."

"Jake," you repeat. "You don't remember him?"

"Lot of people in that building. I was there for like an hour." He laughs but it sounds flat. "Why are you asking?"

You don't know why you're asking. The question hangs there, unanswered, as you round the corner and your building comes into view. "Pure curiosity," you say. "He's nice. We went to the convenience store last night."

"The convenience store at night. Like a date?"

"Not a date, it was an apology. His dog knocked over an old man at my work."

Jungwon is quiet for a beat before talking again. "Don’t tell me that you like him."

"It's not like that."

"It's exactly like that. I can hear it in your voice."

You stop at the front door of your building, hand on the handle. It’s cool under your palm. "I don't even know him. We've talked, like, four times."

"And you're already calling him by name. That's more than you do with most people."

You leave the question unanswered. The door opens, and the smell of aged carpet and lingering cooking oil greets you before anything else. "I'll talk to you later," you say.

"Okay. But Y/N—"

"What?"

"Be careful, okay? Just—" He stops. "Just be careful with yourself. You're still figuring things out. I love you."

"I know. Love you too." You hang up and stand in the foyer, phone warm in your hand. The hallway stretches ahead, empty and quiet as usual. You climb the stairs slowly instead of taking the elevator, each step slow. What is happening? Something doesn't add up.

─────────

The banging comes from somewhere down the hall. Sharp and insistent, the sound of a fist against wood or maybe a shoulder against a frame. You freeze mid-step, your keys still in the lock, heart lurching into your throat. The apartment building is usually calm at this hour with the muffled sound of someone's guitar upstairs or television, but nothing like this.

You press your eye to the peephole but the angle is wrong, the fish-eye view showing only the empty stretch of hallway directly outside your door. The banging continues, punctuated by a voice. It’s raised, female, too muffled to make out words but carrying an obvious edge of distress.

The smart move would be staying inside, lock the door, call 911 and wait it out. The sound carries a note of despair that makes you pause. Your mind drifts to the building's elderly residents and the possibility that someone is in trouble. Before the thought has time to settle, you're unlocking the door and pulling it open.

You step into the hallway.

Jake is there, about twenty feet down, his back half-turned to you. A woman stands in front of him, her posture stiff, her hands gesturing in jagged movements. She's undeniably pretty ; dark hair pulled back, a denim jacket, boots that look expensive. Her face is flushed, and even from here you can see the tension in her jaw. "It's not fair," she's saying, her voice cracking. "You can't just—I've been trying for months, Jake. Months. And you just—"

"Luna." Jake's voice is low, placating, his hands raised in that universal gesture of de-escalation. "I've told you. It's not like that. I'm not—"

She scoffs, loud and bitter. "Not what? Not interested? You've made that fucking clear."

You're frozen in the doorway, unsure whether to retreat or announce your presence. The woman's head snaps toward you, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing.

"Oh," she says, the word dripping with annoyance. Her eyes scan you for approximately 5 seconds. "Great. She’s back." She brushes past you without another word, her shoulder colliding with yours hard enough to make you stumble back a step. The elevator doors close behind her, and it's just you and Jake in the hallway now. He's still standing there, hands lowered now, his face a mingle of exhaustion and embarrassment. He runs a palm over his jaw, lets out a long breath.

She's back. What?

"That," he says, "was not how I wanted you to meet my coworker."

You blink at him. "Coworker?"

"Luna." He points loosely toward the elevator. "She works at the shelter with me. We've known each other since we were kids."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. "She seemed upset."

"She's been upset for a while." He rubs the back of his neck. "She's had a thing for me. For years. And I keep telling her I don't feel that way, but she doesn't—" He exhales again. "She doesn't take it well."

You raise an eyebrow. "So she followed you home and banged on your door?"

"She showed up unannounced. I was trying to calm her down. She's not a bad person, she just—" He hesitates, searching for the right words. "She's stubborn, and she doesn't like hearing no."

You study him. His shoulders are still tense, his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He looks genuinely rattled, not like someone who's been caught in a lie. "Childhood friends," you repeat. "she's been flirting with you, and you felt bad for her."

"First, I’m not flirting with her and I’m not planning on it. I felt bad because I know she's lonely. She's been through some stuff. But I can't—" He looks at you, his expression transforming invisibly. "I can't give her what she wants. It wouldn't be fair to her. Or to anyone else."

"I’ve never seen you so flustered," you declare softly. He huffs a laugh, short and breathy. "Yeah, well. You bring out the best in me."

You push off from the doorframe. "She seems like she'll be fine."

"She'll be fine. She always is." He pauses. "Thanks for not assuming the worst."

"I assumed the worst," you admit. " A girlfriend and an angry breakup."

"Not a girlfriend," he says. "Not even close."

You nod, and the moment stretches between you, comfortable but charged. "Goodnight then, Jake."

"Sleep tight, Y/N."

You close the door behind you and lean against it, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall.

Not a girlfriend. Is he lying?

You don't know why that detail settles in your mind the way it does. You’d rather sleep it away.

─────────

You're coming back from a late shift, leaving your feet sore and your brain half-fogged, when you round the corner to your floor and find the hallway occupied. Four of them, clustered around Jake's door like they're waiting for someone to let them in. You recognize Jake immediately ; he's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, laughing at something one of the others said. The other three are strangers, but they have that easy familiarity with each other, displaying years of friendship.

Jake spots you first. His face shifts, the laugh settling into a smile that's more reserved but no less warm. "Y/N," he says. "You're back late."

"There was a lot of work to do." You slow your pace, your keys already in hand. "I wasn't expecting to see a lot of people today."

One of the strangers ; tall with sharp features and a casual slouch ; he steps forward, extending a hand. "Jay. I've heard about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Debatable." The one next to him grins, softer, with eyes that crinkle at the corners. "I'm Heeseung. This is Sunghoon, and that's Jenna, his girlfriend."

Jenna waves from where she's tucked under Sunghoon's arm. She has a face that immediately puts you at ease, round and open and curious.

"We were about to have a drink," Jake announces. "You want to join?"

You hesitate. The exhaustion is tugging at your limbs, but the alternative is your empty apartment and the leftover convenience store chips you've been picking at for days. "Sure," you say. "Why not."

His apartment is the same as before, but with four extra bodies it feels smaller, more alive. Jay immediately claims the couch, sprawling like he owns it. Heeseung perches on the armrest. Sunghoon and Jenna take the floor, backs against the coffee table, and Jake gestures for you to take the single chair by the window.

"Drinks are in the kitchen," he says. "Help yourself."

You grab something from the fridge ; a cheap beer, nothing fancy ; and settle into the chair. The conversation flows around you, natural and unforced, as they talk about work and mutual friends and an inside joke about the shelter.

After two or three drinks, someone suggests a game. "Chug or dare," Jay announces, the glint in his eye makes you immediately suspicious. "You know the rules. Pick chug, you finish your drink. Pick dare, you do whatever we come up with. But you’re forbidden to back down."

"Really?" you say. "This is how you treat your guests?"

"Guests are the most fun," Heeseung says. "You're fresh meat."

Jake shoots them a warning look, veiled with exasperation. "You don't have to play. They're idiots."

"We’re not," Sunghoon protests. "Jake, it’s been years since we know each other. Don’t be surprised."

You look around the room. The faces watching you are expectant, amused, a little bit reckless. The knot in your chest loosens. "I’m in. I'm taking Jake down with me, though."

The first few rounds are tame. Heeseung chugs three times in a row and declares himself champion. Sunghoon dares Jay to do a handstand, which he fails spectacularly. Jenna picks dare and has to call her mom and tell her she loves her, which she does with zero hesitation and an extreme level of sincerity.

After that, the bottle lands on you. "Y/N," Jay says, rubbing his hands together. "Chug or dare?"

You weigh your options. Your drink is half-full. "Dare."

Jay leans forward, eyes glittering. "I dare you to tell us what you first thought when you saw Jake."

The room goes quiet. Jake's hand stops mid-reach for his bottle.

"That's not a dare," you say. "That's kind of embarrassing."

"It's the correct functionality of a dare." Heeseung is grinning now, too. "Answer the question."

You look at Jake. He's watching you with a curious expression.

"You want the honest answer?" you ask.

"Always."

"His nose." The words come out neutral. "I thought it was ridiculous how perfect it was. It’s like someone sculpted it. It's annoying, honestly."

A beat of silence. Then Jay doubles over, slapping his knee. Heeseung lets out a wheeze of a laugh. Sunghoon is covering his mouth, eyes wide. Jenna just shakes her head, grinning. Jake's face has gone slightly pink. He looks down at his bottle, then back at you, and his face softens. "That's not what I expected," he says.

"I had to be unpredictable."

The game continues. Jenna gets dared to chug and does it with ease. Sunghoon gets asked if he'd rather fight a bodybuilder or five horses, and he spends five minutes arguing the logistics. Heeseung picks chug three times in a row and is visibly struggling to stay upright, his ears turning bright pink.

It's Jake's turn. "Chug," he says immediately.

"Whoa, not too fast." Jay says. "You're not getting out of it that easy. I'm changing the rules. You have to pick dare."

"Since when can you change the rules?"

"Since I'm the one asking." Jay grins. "Dare : show us the most embarrassing thing on your phone."

Jake's eyes narrow. "I'm not doing that."

"Then you have to answer a question instead," Sunghoon offers. "From anyone in the room. You pick who."

Jake considers this. His gaze scans the room, passing over Jay and Heeseung, settling on you for a moment before moving to Jenna. "Jenna. Ask me anything."

Jenna tilts her head, thinking. "Why did you move back to this city?" The question lands differently than the others. The light atmosphere falters slightly. Jake's jaw tightens, and for a second you see an unguarded expression crossing his features.

"Personal reasons," he says. "I needed to be back here."

"That's vague," Heeseung notes.

"It's still an answer." Jake picks up his bottle. "I'm drinking now." He finishes his drink in one long swallow, and everyone lets it go.

The bottle spins again, lands on you. Jay's turn to ask. "Chug or dare?"

You're feeling the warmth of the alcohol now, loose and careless. "Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Jake."

The room goes dead quiet. You hear someone inhale sharply ; maybe Jenna or yourself. Jake's head snaps toward Jay, disbelief and uncertainty show on his features.

"Jay," he mumbles, his voice has an edge to it. "That's not—"

"Too late," Jay cuts him off. "She already picked. Rules are rules."

You look at Jake. He's sitting across from you, one arm draped over the back of the couch, his bottle dangling from his fingers. The light from the kitchen catches the lines of his face, the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose. That stupid, perfect nose. Lord, why would you make me cross paths with a guy that I obviously can’t have? He’s going to be fucking weirded out since I haven’t kiss a single soul in my entire life.

"I don't have to, right?" you say. "I can chug instead."

"You're not chugging." Jay's tone is firm. "That's not how the game works."

The silence lingers. Jake holds your gaze, his expression betraying him ; hesitation, or resolve masquerading as it. Whatever it is, it stays unspoken.

"Jake," you say, and your voice comes out steady. "What do you think?"

He studies you in silence for what feels like an eternity. Then he sets his bottle down with delicate care, rises, and slowly closes the distance between you. "Okay," he says lowly. "If you're okay with it."

You're not sure if you're okay with it. I mean, he’s hot for sure. You're lost right now, while his hand finds the back of your chair, he leans down, his breath is warm and smells faintly of beer. His lips brush your cheek. Soft, quick, almost unsure. It's not a kiss, not really ; it's the ghost of one, lingering just long enough to leave a hot mark. He straightens up and steps back. The room erupts into wolf-whistles and laughter.

"Cheater," Jay yells. "That's not a kiss."

"Mind you, those are my favorite kind." Jake says, and he's looking at you, not at Jay. You touch your cheek, where the warmth of his lips still lingers. Your face is burning, you're not sure if it's embarrassment or something else. "You're a coward," you say, your tone weak.

He smiles, slow and crooked. "You’re going to thank me later."

The game dissolves after that, the energy beginning to loosen, more rambling. Jenna falls asleep against Sunghoon's shoulder. Heeseung starts recounting a story about one of his high school exes. Jake moves to the floor, leaning against the couch, and you find yourself beside him, your shoulders almost touching. Your head starts to pound.

The game continues. The bottle spins, lands on Jay, then Heeseung, then Jenna. People chug or dare with increasing abandon, the alcohol loosening tongues and lowering inhibitions. Sunghoon admits he once cried while arguing with Jenna. You're on your fourth bottle, maybe your fifth. The edges of the room have gone soft and blurry, and you're laughing at something Heeseung said that you're not entirely sure was a joke. Your face feels warm, your limbs loose, and when you lean back against the couch, your shoulder brushes Jake's once again.

The bottle spins again to land on you. Jay's turn, because it's always Jay. "Y/N. Chug or dare?"

"Dare." You're feeling bold, the alcohol humming in your veins. Jay's grin is wicked. "I dare you to spend ten minutes locked in Jake's bedroom. Just the two of you, with no phones."

The room erupts. Sunghoon lets out a low whistle and Heeseung chuckles while nearly passing out on the couch.

Jake shifts beside you. "Okay, let’s stop here—"

"You cheated earlier," Jay cuts him off. "You’ll have to make up for that."

You glance at Jake. His expression gives nothing away, even though the tightness in his jaw wasn't there a moment ago. He watches you closely, waiting for your reaction.

"Ten minutes?" you say. "That's it?"

"That's it."

You stand, and the room tilts slightly. You steady yourself against the arm of the couch. "Fine."

Jake stands too, as hesitant as before. He leads you down the short hallway to his bedroom, and you hear the hoots and catcalls from the living room as the door clicks shut behind you.

The room is small and neat. A bed with rumpled sheets, a dresser with a lamp, a window overlooking the street. And on the nightstand, next to a half-empty glass of water, a photo frame turned face-down.

Jake leans against the door, arms crossed. "You don't have to do this. We can just sit here and wait it out."

"Where's the fun in that?" You're already wandering around, peering at books on the shelf, a guitar propped in the corner. Your eyes keep drifting back to the photo frame. You walk toward it, curiosity tugging at you. "What's this?"

Jake's body goes still. Before you can reach for it, he's there, his hand catching your wrist, turning you toward him. "No, please don’t," he says, and his voice is urgent.

"Why? Is it embarrassing?"

"Something like that."

You're close now, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes, his pupils are dilated, there’s a slight sheen on his lower lip. The alcohol has made you bold and afraid of nothing.

"I want to see," you say.

He leans in for his lips find yours. The kiss is warm, lingering, carrying a soft urgency that feels almost like a plea. Even though you thought you had no experience in kissing, doing it with him nearly felt natural, as much as muscle memory. The world seems to melt around you. Your thoughts dissolve, and the photo frame slips from your mind as completely as if it had never been there. You stumble backward, your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and you fall onto the mattress, pulling him with you. He catches himself on his hands, hovering over you, but your legs are tangled and the momentum shifts and suddenly you're in his lap, straddling him, your knees on either side of his hips.

His hands find your waist, then slide down, settling on your butt. He squeezes, and you gasp against his mouth. He kisses you again, deeper and slower, his tongue brushing your lower lip. You arch into him, your fingers threading through his hair, and he groans, low and rough.

The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you breathing hard. He's looking up at you, his eyes pleading, his lips parted. "Y/N," he murmurs, your name sounds different in his mouth, sounding like it means something more.

You finally get the hang of it and you kiss him again. His hands tighten on your ass, pulling you closer, and you feel the heat of him through both your clothes. The world outside this room fades into static.

Ten minutes pass. Even longer than that.

You feel him shift beneath you, his hips rolling upward in a slow motion, sending a jolt through your entire body. His hands are still firm on your backside, guiding you, and you follow the movement without thinking, your own hips tilting to meet his.

The kiss breaks just long enough for you to gasp, and he takes the opportunity to press his mouth to your jaw, your neck, and the sensitive spot just below your ear. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you feel the low vibration of a sound that might be his voice or yours, you can't really tell anymore.

He grinds up into you again, and you feel the full heat of him through the denim, the friction of it making your head spin. Your breath is coming in short, uneven bursts, and his is the same ; harsh and ragged against your skin. His hands slide up from your backside to your waist, then back down, pulling you closer, harder, like he's trying to fuse you to him. You're not sure who moves first, but suddenly you're both lying back on the bed, him beneath you, your legs still straddling his hips, the kiss deepening into something messier. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and slip beneath, grazing the bare skin of your lower back, and you shiver.

Someone bangs at the door. Insistent knocks on the bedroom door. Heeseung's voice, muffled but audible. "Time's up! Ten minutes are over! You're not dead, are you?"

You both stop in your tracks. Your foreheads almost touching, your breath mingling in the small space between. He laughs from half-exasperation and half-relief. He drops his head back against the pillow, and you feel the tension in his shoulders subtly ease.

"Ignore him," he says while he's already loosening his grip on your waist, giving you space to pull back. You sit up, your thighs still bracketing his hips, and run a hand through your tangled hair. Your face is burning. Your lips feel swollen. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between you.

"We should—" you start, yet you don't know how to finish the sentence.

"Yeah." He's watching you from beneath half-lidded eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Heeseung bangs again. "I'm not leaving until you open the door! Jay's timing you!"

Jake groans without real frustration in it. He sits up slowly, his hands finding your waist and steadying you as you climb off his lap. You stand, smoothing down your shirt, and he gets to his feet, adjusting his jeans with casualness.

He opens the door.

Heeseung stands there, arms crossed, a triumphant grin on his face. "Took you long enough. What were you doing in there?"

Jake steps past him into the hallway. "Mind your own business."

You follow, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor, you catch Jenna's teasing glance and Jay's eyebrows have shot up past his hairline. You already have to resist the urge to hide behind Jake's shoulder.

"Drink," Heeseung says, shoving a fresh bottle into your hand. "You've earned it."

You take it carelessly. You stand there, feeling the phantom weight of Jake's hands on your waist, the lingering heat of his mouth on your neck. How the fuck am I going to face him after that?

Or any day after.

─────────

A week passes.

Seven days of routine, of work and sleep and the occasional text from Hanni about something absurd a resident did. You walk the same hallways, take the same elevator, pass the same doors. But you don't see Jake ; not in the corridor, not at the coffee shop and not on the street. It's like he's vanished into the walls of the building, existing only in the memory of that night ; the heat of his hands, the press of his mouth, and how your name rolled over his tongue in such a delicate way.

You tell yourself it doesn't matter, that it was just a game, just alcohol, just ten minutes in a locked room that somehow stretched into something you can't stop replaying. You tell yourself you're not looking for him when you walk past his door nor listening for his footsteps on the stairs.

You can’t even lie to yourself.

Jungwon arrives on Friday afternoon, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a grin that takes up half his face. He hugs you in the doorway, squeezing too tight, and you let him because you've missed him more than you realized.

"Damn. It’s smaller then I remember," he announces, dropping his bag on the floor. "Like, really small. How do you live here?"

"I manage."

"Barely, by the looks of it." He peers at the stack of boxes still in the corner, the ones you haven't touched since you moved in. "You haven't unpacked everything."

"I'm getting to it."

"Yeah, right."

The weekend unfolds. You take him to the park, to the coffee shop, to the elderly home to meet Hanni and Jacob and Mrs. Han. He charms everyone, that's what he does the best, and by the end of the first day he's already promised to visit again.

Sunday afternoon, you're walking back from the park, the sun warm on your shoulders. Jungwon is telling you about a girl in his sociology class, someone he's been dancing around for weeks, he met her that one mixer party, and you're listening with half your attention, the other half occupied by the streets and the weight of your keys in your pocket. You round the corner into your building's corridor.

No way.

Jake.

He's standing by his door, keys in hand, like he's just coming back from somewhere. He looks up as you approach, and for a moment, A subtle change passed over his face. His eyes lit with recognition, followed by a fleeting trace of relief that was quickly replaced by his usual impassive stance.

"Y/N," he says. "Hey."

"Hi."

Jungwon's gaze flickers between you, sharp and assessing. "You're Jake," he says, there's a weight to the words that makes you look at him. Jake's posture shifts, almost imperceptibly. "Yeah. And you're Jungwon."

"You remember me."

"I remember a lot of things." Jake's voice is calm, yet there's a tension in his jaw that wasn't there before. You look between them, suddenly aware that you're missing something. "You two already know each other. From before I moved in, right?"

"Briefly," Jungwon says, and the word is clipped. He turns to you, his expression softening. "Y/N, can you go inside? I want to talk to Jake for a minute."

"What? Why?"

"I—" He hesitates. "I'll explain later. Please."

You look at Jake. He's watching Jungwon with an expression you can't read, and when he meets your gaze, there's something almost apologetic in it.

"Please," Jungwon repeats.

You hesitate, the key in your hand feeling heavier than usual. Jungwon has never asked you for much, and the look on his face is earnest in a way you rarely see. "Fine," you say, and you don't miss the way both of them exhale just slightly. "You better tell me later."

You slip into your room and quietly shut the door behind you. Remaining still, you lean close until your ear rests against the wood, listening for the hushed conversation outside. Only faint murmurs reach you, too muffled to make out.

You stand in the middle of your apartment, staring at the closed door, your hand still resting on the handle. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, broken only by the distant sound of traffic from the street. You count the seconds, then the minutes, your mind spinning through possibilities you can't figure out.

When the door finally opens, Jungwon steps inside and closes it behind him with a soft click. He doesn't meet your eyes immediately, and his shoulders are set in an unusual way ; the tension he carries when something is bothering him but he doesn't want to talk about it.

"Everything okay?" you ask.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhales slowly. "Yeah, it’s fine. It was—" He stops, shakes his head. "He's a little weird. That's all."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know." He shrugs too quickly. "It’s just the way he talks. He sounds like he knows more than he's saying. It's probably nothing."

You study him. His jaw is tight, and there's a crease between his brows that he's trying to smooth away. You've known him your whole life, or at least the parts you remember, and you can tell when he's holding something back. "Jungwon." You keep your voice level. "What did you talk about?"

He moves past you toward the kitchen, opens the fridge, and stares inside with focus. "I just wanted to get a read on him and make sure he's not some weirdo who's going to cause problems for you."

"And?"

"And he's not." He pulls out a bottle of water, twists off the cap to take a long drink. "He seems fine. Genuine, even. I just—" He pauses and sets the bottle down. "I don't know. There's something about him that feels familiar, and I can't figure out what it is."

Your stomach tightens. "Familiar how?"

"I don't know." He says it again, more frustrated this time. "It's probably nothing. I'm probably just being overprotective."

The unease that's lingered since the moment you saw the keychain resurfaces with renewed force. Jake's searching gaze keeps replaying in your mind, refusing to be ignored. Questions crowd your thoughts, but one look at Jungwon's guarded expression tells you this isn't the time to press him. You know he'd only withdraw further.

"Okay," you say. "If you say it's nothing."

"It's nothing." He meets your eyes, something in his gaze that's almost pleading. "Drop it, okay? For now."

You nod, even though every instinct is telling you not to. He relaxes for a bit, and the moment passes. Something is happening. Something you don't understand. And you're starting to think that the answers might not be as simple as you hoped.

─────────

As the door shuts behind Jungwon, the apartment returns to its usual calm. You stand quietly, replaying the fragments of a conversation you were never meant to hear. Whatever Jake said has stayed with him, but his expression is firmly closed off.

You wander into the living room, grab your phone and scroll through notifications. A news alert catches your eye ; an article about the sequel to that movie you've been waiting for, the one you've watched half a dozen times since you moved. Your stomach drops as you read the date. The premiere was last week. You missed it.

You're already moving toward the door before you fully decide to go. Your shorts are fine. The hoodie is fine. It's just a movie, and the theater is only a few blocks away. You don't bother changing or checking your reflection. You grab your keys and step into the hallway.

Jake is at the elevator, walking out as you're heading down. He stops when he sees you, his gaze traveling over your outfit, the urgency in your stride.

"Whoa," he says. "Where's the fire?"

"Movie." You're already past him, one hand on the buttons. "The sequel to that film I've been waiting for. I missed the premiere. I'm trying to catch a showing."

He watches you for a beat, then his hand lands lightly on your arm, stopping you. "Wait. Which movie?"

You tell him the title. His eyebrows lift.

"I like that one too," he says. "I actually have it. The original, I mean. On my laptop. I downloaded the sequel the day it came out."

You blink at him. "You downloaded it?"

"Yeah. I was going to watch it tonight, actually." He drops his hand and shoves it into his pocket. "If you want, you could watch it with me, at my place. Instead of running to the theater in shorts."

The simplicity of his offer makes it harder to dismiss. You think about the movie theater and everything that comes with it, but those thoughts are quickly overshadowed by the past week without him, the lingering uncertainty between you, and the rush of your heartbeat. "That's not weird?" you ask. "Watching a movie with your neighbor you haven't talked to in a week?"

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his mouth. "It's a good movie. And I promise I won't talk during the quiet parts."

You consider it. The hallway is dark, the evening light filtering through the window at the end. He's standing there, patient, and waiting for your answer.

"Okay," you say. "I don’t want to share my snacks, though."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You follow him to his door, your footsteps echoing in the hallway. His apartment is just as you remember it ; the guitar, the books, the soft warm lights. He gestures toward the couch while he grabs his laptop from the coffee table and plugs it to the TV. You settle into the cushions, pulling your knees up, the hoodie swallowing you. The screen lights up, the opening credits rolling. He sits at the other end of the couch, a respectful distance between you, and hits play.

The movie plays on, but neither of you is really watching anymore. The scenes blur into background noise, punctuated by your shared laughter at a line you both find cliché, a character you both hate, a moment that still makes you cringe after all these years. Between scenes, you talk ; about the original movie, about other films, about nothing at all ; and the space between you shrinks with each exchange.

You barely register the moment his arm comes to rest along the back of the couch. The small brush of his fingertips against your shoulder goes unnoticed too. It's only when his hand settles there, warm and reassuring, his thumb lazily drawing slow circles over your hoodie, that you become aware of just how close he is. The blanket is draped over both of you, a thin barrier against the cool air of the apartment. His other hand slips beneath it, finding your thigh, resting there with a casualness that feels anything but like it. You lean into him, your head drifting toward his shoulder, the conversation fading into comfortable silence.

The movie continues, although you can feel your eyes becoming heavy. The warmth of his hand on your thigh, the rhythm of his breathing, the low murmur of dialogue from the TV ; it all blends into a haze of contentment. Your eyelids droop, flutter, close.

"Y/N." His voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "You're falling asleep."

"Mmm." You don't open your eyes. "I know."

"Do you want to go back?"

The room stays quiet as his words linger. Beyond the door waits a dark hallway, an empty apartment, and a bed that has already gone cold. The image settles over you like a burden, leaving you with little desire to leave.

"I don't want to move," you murmur, the words slurred with sleep.

He's quiet for a moment before he decides to speak. "You could stay here if you want. I have an extra blanket, or—" He pauses. "The bed's big enough."

You lift your head, blinking at him. His face is so close, his eyes soft in the low light of the screen. There's no expectation in his expression, no pressure. It’s an offer.

"Okay," you say.

He stands, extends a hand, and pulls you gently to your feet. You both walk shortly to his bedroom. He pulls back the covers, and you slip in, the mattress dipping under your weight. He climbs in behind you, his arm finding your waist, pulling you close. His chest presses against your back, his legs tangling with yours, and you feel his breath warm against the curve of your neck.

"You smell so good," he murmurs, the words a low vibration against your skin.

You laugh, low and drowsy. "I haven't showered."

"Don't care." His nose brushes your hairline. "You always smell good."

His arm tightens around you, his hand splayed across your stomach. His lips press a soft, absent kiss to your shoulder, then another, barely there. "Your skin is so soft too," he confies, you can hear the smile in his voice. "I wanted to tell you that before. When you got out of the shower at my place, that first time. But I didn't want to be weird."

"You're being weird now," you mumble, but you're smiling too.

"Keep acting like you don’t like it." He nuzzles into your neck. "I'm okay with it."

You feel his hand slide from your stomach to your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles against the bone. His breath evens out, his body relaxing behind you, and you feel yourself sinking into the warmth of him.

"Jake," you say, barely audible.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me stay."

He squeezes you gently, his lips pressing against your hair. "Anytime, Y/N."

Curled against his chest, you slowly surrender to sleep. His arm remains securely around you, its warmth grounding you until the last of your thoughts dissolve.

─────────

The sunlight filters through the curtains, and you blink awake slowly, your mind still thick with sleep. The bed is warm, the sheets tangled around your legs, however, the space beside you is empty. You reach out, your hand finding only cool fabric.

You lie there for a moment, orienting yourself. Jake's room. Jake's bed. The events of the night before trickle back in fragments. You check your phone on the nightstand. Saturday, 9:47 AM. Two days off stretching ahead of you, unplanned and open. You pad out of the bedroom, still in the oversized hoodie you wore last night, your hair a mess and your eyes half-opened. The smell of coffee hits you brutally. Jake is standing at the kitchen counter, a mug in one hand, his phone in the other. He's in a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his hair still sleep-tousled, and he looks up when he hears your footsteps.

"Morning," he says, his voice so soft and reassuring. "I didn't want to wake you. You looked comfortable."

"You're still here," you say, your voice scratchy. "Don't you have work?"

He shakes his head. "Day off. I figured I'd take it easy."

You close the distance without giving yourself time to hesitate. Slipping your arms around his waist from behind, you rest your cheek between his shoulder blades. Warmth radiates through him, and you feel his entire body go still beneath your embrace. He stays still. His breath barely catches, and you feel the tension ripple through his shoulders. After that, his hand comes down to rest over yours, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

"Y/N," he says, and his voice is rougher than before. "You're going to make me drop my coffee."

"Put it down, then."

He does as you say. You hear the mug clink against the counter, and then he's turning in your arms, his hands finding your waist, his face close to yours. A flush is creeping up his neck, pink and noticeable, the sight of it makes thousands of sparks flicker in your stomach.

"You're blushing." you observe.

"I’m not," he says, his ears are red now, and he's not meeting your eyes. "I just wasn't expecting a hug. First thing in the morning. From someone who—" He stops, clears his throat. "Never mind."

"From someone who what?"

He finally looks at you, vulnerability filling his gaze completely. "From someone I really didn't want to wake up alone."

Words fail you, so you simply stay where you are. He pulls you into him, holding you with gentleness before resting his forehead against the top of your head. As he breathes in deeply, the strain he'd been carrying begins to slip away.

"Your hair smells like my shampoo," he mumbles into your hair.

"Your shampoo smells good."

"It's just generic stuff from the convenience store."

"Still smells good."

He laughs, soft and warm, and his arms tighten around you. "That sounded stupid, doesn’t it?"

You smile and chuckle against his chest. "A little bit."

You only eat eggs, toasts and drink coffee, but it feels like more than that. You sit across from him at his small kitchen table, the soft light of the sun landing on his face, and the conversation flows easily between bites.

He tells you about the shelter and problems that he had when he took care of a dog for the first time, and you do the same.

"It's a good job," you say, stirring your coffee. "Exhausting, but good. They make me laugh sometimes."

"They sound like characters."

"They are." You pause, watching him over the rim of your mug. "Can I ask you something personal?"

He looks up, a hint of wariness in his eyes, but he nods. "Sure."

"Why did you move back here? You said that night at the game—personal reasons. But you didn't elaborate."

He's quiet for a moment, his fork hovering over his plate. "I had some things to figure out," he says slowly. "Things I couldn't figure out anywhere else."

"Like what?"

He meets your gaze, something you can’t quite read passes across his face. "Like whether some things are worth coming back for."

The answer is vague and careful, yet there's a weight to it that makes you not want to know more about it. So you don't.

"Your turn," you say instead. "You can ask me anything."

He sets down his fork, considering. "What made you choose this city? Out of all the places you could have gone."

You look down at your coffee. The steam rises in slow spirals. "I used to live here. Before the accident." You say it matter-of-factly, you've learned to say it over the past year. "I don't remember it, but something about it felt right. Like I was supposed to come back."

"The accident," he repeats, and his voice is measured now. "You've mentioned it before. The memory loss."

"Yeah." You wrap your hands around the mug, let the warmth seep into your palms. "Three years. Just gone. I woke up in the hospital and suddenly I was 22, and I didn't remember being 21, 20 and even 19. My brother had to tell me who I was friends with, where I'd worked, what I'd done." You pause. "It's strange. Knowing there's a version of yourself out there that you'll never meet."

Jake is watching you intently, his breakfast forgotten. "That must have been hard," he says quietly.

"It was. Still is, sometimes. There are things I know I'm supposed to remember—people, places, moments—and I just can't access them. It’s like a locked door I don't have the key to."

He's silent for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is softer than before. "Do you ever feel like you're close to remembering? Or that something triggers it?"

You consider the question. "Sometimes it’s little things. A smell, a song, or an object." You think of the keychain, the one that matches his. "But it never sticks. It's just—there and it’s gone."

He nods slowly.

"Sorry," you say. "That got heavy."

"Don't apologize." He reaches across the table, his hand covering yours. "Thank you for telling me."

You look at his hand on yours, warm and soft. "Your turn," you say, trying to lighten the mood. "Ask me something else."

He thinks for a moment. "What's your favorite thing about this city? Now that you're back."

You smile, the tension easing. "The coffee shop on the corner. They have terrible pastries but really good lattes."

He laughs, and the sound fills the kitchen. "I'll have to try it sometime."

"Maybe I'll take you." The words come out before you can stop them, and you feel a flush creep up your neck.

He squeezes your hand. "I'd like that."

The morning stretches into a lazy afternoon. You've migrated to the couch, your phone in one hand, scrolling through nothing in particular. Jake is stretched out beside you, his head resting on your thigh like it belongs there, his own phone held above his face. The weight of him is warm and familiar now, and you've stopped overthinking how his hair brushes against your bare knee.

He's quiet, focused on whatever he's reading, his thumb occasionally swiping. You're half-watching a video on your own screen, the sound muted, when you feel his body shift. A pause. His thumb stops moving.

Then his free hand moves, quick and unexpected, his fingers finding the spot just above your knee. He digs in lightly, and you jolt, your phone nearly slipping from your grip.

"Jake!" Your voice comes out loud, a mix of surprise and laughter. "What are you doing?"

He grins, an unapologetic grin, and his fingers keep moving, dancing along the sensitive skin of your thigh. You try to twist away, but his head is still heavy on your lap, pinning you in place, and he's using his other hand to trap your leg.

"Stop—" You're laughing, breathless, trying to grab his wrist. "I'm serious—"

"Are you?" His voice is teasing and low. His fingers find your ribs, and you arch, a helpless sound escaping you.

"You're the fucking worst." You manage to grab his hand, but he's stronger, and he uses the momentum to roll slightly, shifting so he can reach your side. The tickling intensifies, and you're squirming, your free hand batting at his shoulder.

"Say I'm the best," he says, his voice muffled against your stomach.

"Never."

He doubles down, and you dissolve into helpless laughter, your phone clattering onto the floor. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

"Okay—okay—you're the best." The words come out in a wheeze. "You're the best, Jake. I surrender."

He stops, his hand stilling, still he doesn't move away. His face is close now, hovering over you, his eyes bright with amusement and softness beneath.

"That was easy," he says.

"Fuck you."

"You wouldn't," He settles back down, and you slap his arm for the comment. His head finding your lap again, his hand resting loosely on your knee. "Don't worry. I'll go easy on you next time."

You pick up your phone with your heart is still racing, and you can feel the warmth of his palm through the thin fabric of your shorts.

A random movie starts on the laptop screen, playing as background noise to fill the silence. You're sitting on the floor between Jake's legs, your back against the couch, your head tilted back slightly as his fingers work through your hair. He's been at it for a while now, separating strands, twisting them together, muttering under his breath when they slip apart.

"Like this?" he asks, his voice close to your ear.

"Tighter," you say. "You're not pulling enough."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Just—here." You reach up, your hand finding his, guiding his fingers to the right section. "Hold that one. Now cross it over the middle. Yes, like that."

He follows your instructions with concentration and that makes you smile. His fingers are careful, delicate, and you feel the gentle tug as he works through a tangle.

"You've done this before, no?" you say.

"Never. I'm just naturally talented."

You snort. "We'll see about that."

Another minute passes. He's quiet, too focused, and you can feel the slight movement of his hands as he continues his work. You're both lost in the small intimacy of the moment.

"Okay," he says finally. "I think I got it."

You reach up, your fingers brushing against the braid he's made. It's lopsided, uneven, with strands sticking out at odd angles. You tug at it gently, and a section comes loose.

"It's bad," you say, and you can hear the laughter in your own voice.

He lets out a mock-offended sound. "I spent ten minutes on that."

"Ten minutes and this is what I get?"

"I'm a beginner. Tell me I’m doing good. Please."

You turn your head to look up at him. He's pouting weakly, his bottom lip pushed out, his eyes looking down with exaggerated hurt.

"Okay," you relent. "You did great."

His expression shifts instantly, the pout melting into a pleased smile. "Really?"

"For a first try. It's not completely terrible."

"High praise." His hand finds your shoulder, squeezing gently. "I'll take it."

You settle back against the couch, your head still tilted to look at him. He's looking down at you, his gaze soft, unguarded, letting you see something he usually keeps hidden.

"These past few days," he says, his voice quieter now. "They've been—I don't know. I've been comfortable. More than I have in a while."

"You're not going to get all sentimental on me, are you?"

He laughs, low and warm. "Maybe a little. Is that okay?"

You wait and watch him, the light catches his eyes, the slight curve of his mouth. The air between you feels heavier now. He leans forward, his face hovering above yours, and you feel a pull ; something that tugs at the edges of your memory. The feeling is fleeting, gone before you can grasp it, yet it leaves a warmth in its wake.

"Y/N," he says, your name sounds different on his lips.

Suddenly, his mouth is on yours, gentle and upside down, his lips soft against your own. You lean into him, your hand reaching up to cup his jaw, and the kiss deepens. His fingers thread through your hair, careful not to pull the messy braid loose, and you tilt your head further to meet him. The angle is awkward, the position of him behind you and you below making it clumsy, but you don't want to stop.

When he finally pulls back, his face above yours by an inch, his breath is uneven.

"You’re so pretty that it hurts," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could handle a little pain, though."

"You don't look bad yourself." You chuckle softly, close your eyes and let yourself feel it ; the warmth of him, the pace of his heart against your back, the small certainty that this is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Now, the movie has ended, the credits scrolling silently across the screen. Silence remains in the living room. You've shifted positions, no longer on the floor but curled together on the couch, your back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. His legs bracket yours, and your head rests in the crook of his neck, the warmth of him seeping through your t-shirt.

His lips find your temple first, light and sweet, a barely-there press of skin against skin. Then your cheek. Then the corner of your eye. Each kiss is soft, as he's memorizing the geography of your face. You feel the slight stubble on his jaw brush against you.

"Are you still going to kiss every inch of my face?" you murmur, your eyes closed.

"Every single one." He punctuates the words with another kiss, this one on the bridge of your nose. "I have a list. It's very thorough."

You laugh, tired and content, and his arms tighten around you. His lips trail down to your jaw, then your chin, then the spot just below your ear.

"Getting distracted?" you ask.

"Completely." Another kiss, this one on your neck. "This is your fault for being here."

"I didn't do anything."

"You’re existing right now, so deal with the consequences."

You tilt your head back, giving him more access, and he takes the invitation, his mouth trailing along the curve of your throat. His kisses are still gentle, almost reverent, but they linger a little longer now.

His fingers find your hand, lace through yours, squeeze once. You feel the weight of his lips on your shoulder, your collarbone, the soft skin just above the neckline of your hoodie. Then back up, retracing the path, pausing at your cheek again.

"You're very thorough," you manage, your voice dreamy.

"I told you. I'm a man of my word."

He presses one last kiss to the corner of your mouth, soft and sweet, and then settles his chin on the top of your head, his arms still wrapped around you like he's afraid you'll disappear.

You don’t want to move. The afternoon light has shifted, growing gold, and the room feels suspended in a bubble of warmth and intimacy.

"Jake," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For today. For all of it."

He presses his lips to your hair, a silent reply, and you feel his smile against the strands. The last kiss lingers, right against your hair, and then you tilt your head up, catching his mouth with yours. It's not the upside-down kiss from before, this one is direct and utterly intentional, your lips finding his with unexpected certainty. He responds immediately, his hand cupping your jaw, angling you toward him.

You feel his other hand slide from your shoulder down your side, settling on your hip. You shift, twisting in his arms, and before you know it, you're turning to face him properly. Your knees find the cushion on either side of his thighs, and you settle into his lap, straddling him, your chest pressed against his.

His hands find your waist immediately, gripping you through the fabric of your t-shirt, his fingers splaying across the curve of your hips. He pulls you closer, and you feel the strong warmth of him beneath you, his breath hitches slightly as you settle your weight against him.

"You're going to make it hard to stop." he murmurs against your lips while he's smiling.

"That’s too bad." you whisper back, you could feel the vibration of his laugh.

─────────

It’s been an hour. You’re still straddling Jake, your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips as your mouths move together in a heated, urgent kiss. His lips are warm and demanding, although there’s a delicious clumsiness to the way he kisses you ; teeth grazing a little too eagerly, his tongue sliding against yours with more hunger than precision. He’s so turned on he can barely focus, and it shows in every shaky breath and muffled sound.

His large hands slide down your back and grip your ass firmly now, fingers digging into the soft flesh with possessive strength. He squeezes and fondles you without restraint, kneading your cheeks as he pulls you harder against the growing bulge in his sweatpants. A low throaty moan echoes from his chest into your mouth, raw and needy, sending a rush of heat straight through you.

He breaks the kiss for half a second to gasp for air, forehead lightly pressed to yours, before diving back in even sloppier than before ; lips wet, tongue eager, hands still greedily massaging and spreading your ass as he rocks you against him. His grip is tight enough to leave marks, but the way he groans your name between kisses makes it impossible to care.

You pull back to catch your breath, your hands resting on his chest as you look down at him with flushed cheeks. His eyes are veiled with want, lips slightly swollen from the messy kiss, and his hands are still firmly anchored to your ass, unwilling to let go.

“Sorry,” you whisper, voice a little shaky. “If I’m bad at this…it’s my first time doing any of it, really.”

Jake blinks up at you, his breath still ragged. For a moment his grip on your ass loosens slightly, but then he squeezes again, almost reassuringly. A soft surprised chuckle escapes him before he leans in and presses a gentler kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky and sincere. “I’ve never gotten past a kiss either. So…we’re both figuring this out.”

He pulls you closer again, one hand sliding up your back while the other stays possessively on your ass, and kisses you slower now ; still clumsy with need, still moaning softly into your mouth, but now with a shared nervousness that somehow makes everything feel even hotter.

You smile softly against his lips at his confession, a warm flutter of relief mixing with the heat in your belly. Boldness comes through you, you slide one hand down his chest, slowly tracing the ridges of his abs through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your fingertips press lightly, exploring the firm muscle beneath, and Jake’s entire body jolts under you.

He gasps sharply into your mouth, hips twitching upward as a shiver runs through him. He’s incredibly sensitive there ; every slow drag of your fingers makes his muscles tense and twitch. Another involuntary moan slips out of him, breathier than before.

“S-sorry,” he blurts out by reflex, cheeks burning as he pulls back just an inch, eyes half-lidded and embarrassed. His hands tighten on your ass again, almost like he’s grounding himself. “I’m just…really sensitive. Fuck, that feels good.”

He leans in quickly to kiss you again, clumsier now from the rush of sensation, his abs contracting under your exploring touch as he rocks you gently against him, clearly fighting the urge to apologize a second time.

You keep tracing his abs, feeling them flex and twitch under your fingertips, when his breathing grows even heavier. His hands squeeze your ass one last time before sliding up to your hips. He leans in close, lips brushing your ear as he whispers softly, voice rough with arousal.

“Take your panties off for me…please?”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you. You hesitate, suddenly shy, cheeks burning as you bite your lip and glance away. Jake notices immediately. A small affectionate smirk tugs at his lips despite how flustered he is.

“What’s wrong?” he teases gently, voice playful, his fingers tracing slow circles on your hips. “Don’t get all shy on me now…I’m dying here.”

You swallow hard, heart racing, but the way he’s looking at you ; equal parts desperate and sweet ; makes you brave. Instead of taking them off completely, you reach the hem of your shorts and throw them next to the couch, hook your fingers into the side of your panties, and push the damp fabric aside, exposing yourself to him.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

Jake’s eyes widen slightly. He nods slowly, one hand sliding from your hip down between your bodies. His middle finger gently traces along your slick folds, testing, before he slowly pushes it inside you ; careful, inch by inch, watching your face the whole time to make sure it’s okay. His breath catches at how warm and wet you feel around his finger, and he lets out a shaky moan, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“Fuck…is this alright?” he murmurs, voice trembling with restraint as he holds still, letting you adjust.

You let out a shaky breath, hips shifting slightly against his hand as his finger moves inside you.

“That feels good,” you whisper, voice breathy and honest. “Really good…”

Jake’s eyes light up with relief and hunger. Encouraged, he slowly pulls his middle finger back, then carefully pushes two fingers in this time ; his middle and ring finger ; stretching you more. He’s clumsy about it, his movements a little uncoordinated from how turned on he is, but the gentle pressure feels incredible as he works them deeper.

He starts to pump them slowly, trying to find a rhythm, when suddenly his breath hitches.

“Wait—” he says quickly, almost like he remembered something.

Before you can respond, he curls his fingers upward, searching. The moment he hits that sensitive spot inside you, a loud, involuntary moan escapes your lips, loud and needy. Your thighs tremble around him as pleasure jolts through your body.

His face flushes deeper, a proud but clumsy grin breaking across his face even as he keeps awkwardly pumping and curling his fingers, trying to do it again. His free hand grips your ass tightly for balance, his own breathing ragged and uneven while he watches you react, completely lost in how you sound and feel.

You’re still trembling from the sudden rush of pleasure when he slows his fingers, keeping them buried inside you. He looks up at you with those wide, needy eyes, his cheeks flushed and his breathing ragged.

“Tell me I’m doing good…” he whispers, voice deep and a little vulnerable as he searches your face. “Please?”

You cup his face gently in both hands, thumbs brushing over his warm cheeks. Leaning down, you kiss him softly, tenderly, your lips lingering against his for a long moment. When you pull back just enough to speak, you gaze softens.

“You’re being so good to me,” you murmur. “It feels really good, Jake…keep going.”

A relieved moan slips from him at your words. His eyes flutter half-closed, and he presses into your touch like he’s starving for the praise. His fingers start moving again ; still a little clumsy and eager ; pumping slowly in and out while curling every few strokes to hit that spot that make you squirm. His free hand squeezes your ass tighter, pulling you closer as he kisses you back, messy and grateful.

You keep kissing him, slow and sweet, when Jake suddenly pulls his fingers out of you with a wet sound that makes you both blush. He shifts underneath you, breathing hard, and hurriedly works open his jeans.

“I need to feel you more,” he mutters, voice thick with desperation.

He lifts his hips and shoves his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. His cock springs out, hard and throbbing, already leaking at the tip. You barely get a look at it before he pulls you back down onto his lap, lining you up so your bare, soaked pussy presses directly against his length. You start moving again, grinding with your panties still pushed to the side. The hot, velvety shaft of his cock slides perfectly between your slick folds, the head bumping against your clit with every roll of your hips. Jake groans loudly, head falling back against the couch as his hands return to grip your ass, guiding you faster.

“Fuck…you feel so good,” he moans, clumsy and desperate. He’s getting impossibly harder beneath you, his dick twitching and throbbing with every grind. His hips jerk up to meet yours, uncoordinated and eager, making wet sounds every time your slick heat drags along his entire length.

He looks completely wrecked already ; lips parted, eyes hazy with desire, fingers digging into your ass as he rocks you harder against him, chasing more of that delicious friction. You keep grinding against him, the slick sounds growing louder as both of you get messier. Your panties are completely soaked, the fabric clinging wetly to your folds, and his boxers ; now bunched around his thighs ; are dark with your arousal too.

Jake lets out a frustrated groan and lifts you just enough to shove his boxers the rest of the way down his legs, kicking them off. He reaches into his pocket, tears open a condom with shaky hands, and rolls it on quickly, his cock twitching hard as he does. You move to slide your panties down, but he catches your wrists gently, stopping you.

“Wait—” he breathes, voice hoarse. His eyes drop to where your soaked panties are still pushed to the side, the pretty fabric framing your glistening pussy. “Don’t take them off. They’re too pretty on you like this…looks so fucking hot.”

He pulls you back down onto him, guiding the head of his cock to nudge against your entrance through the shifted fabric. His hands return to your ass, squeezing firmly as he looks up at you with doe, desperate eyes, clearly waiting for you to take the next step while his throbbing length presses impatiently against your heat.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and slowly sink down onto him, taking every inch of his cock inside your tight, soaked heat. The stretch is intense, making you gasp and pause halfway before you breathe through it and slide all the way down until your hips meet his. Jake’s head falls back with a deep, broken moan, his fingers digging hard into your ass.

But after a few seconds, the latex feels uncomfortable and distant. You lift yourself off him, quickly peel the condom away, and sink back down onto his bare cock before he can protest. The raw heat of him makes you both moan.

His eyes fly open in panic. “Wait—fuck—baby—” he stammers, hands gripping your waist tightly as his cock throbs hard inside you. His face is flushed with alarm even as pleasure clouds his expression.

You can’t help but laugh softly at his wide-eyed reaction, the sound breathy and fond. “It’s okay,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss him.

You start moving ; not bouncing, but grinding slowly in deep circles with him fully buried inside you. The pressure against that sensitive spot makes you whimper, but it completely wrecks Jake. He moans loudly, the sound raw and uncontrolled, his whole body tensing beneath you.

Suddenly, his hands clamp around your waist and he lifts you straight up, pulling out of you with a wet pop. You blink in confusion, hovering above him as his cock twitches angrily in the open air, slick with your juices.

“I was about to cum,” he pants, voice strained and embarrassed. “You’re too warm and tight…and I’m really sensitive right now. Fuck, I almost didn’t stop in time.”

He looks up at you, chest heaving, cheeks burning red as he tries to catch his breath, still holding you suspended above his lap.

You hover above him for a moment, still catching your breath, then bite your lip shyly and whisper, “It’s okay…if it happens and you cum inside me, I can take the morning after pill.”

Jake looks up at you, eyes glassy from the pleasure, his chest still rising and falling rapidly. He swallows hard, then nods, his hands gently squeezing your waist. “Okay…but I’ll still try to be careful,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to mess this up for you.”

You smile softly at his sweetness and slowly sink back down onto his bare cock, taking him all the way inside again with a soft gasp. Once he’s fully buried, you resume grinding on him in deep circles, your soaked pussy clenching around his thick length.

He groans loudly, his head tipping back for a second before he looks down to where your bodies are joined. His hands slide firmly onto your hips, fingers digging in as he starts guiding you harder against him. He pulls and pushes you in longer, more insistent grinds, forcing your clit to rub against the base of his cock with every roll.

Sloppy sounds fill the room as your soaked folds slide back and forth along his shaft. The harder he makes you grind, the louder the sounds get, your arousal coating him completely. Jake’s moans turn ragged and desirous, his abs flexing under your hands while he stares at the way your pretty panties, still pushed aside, frame your pussy taking every inch of him.

You keep grinding on him, the wet sounds growing filthier with every roll of your hips, when Jake suddenly sits up straighter. One of his hands slides up your back, pulling you closer as his mouth finds your neck.

He starts licking and kissing the sensitive skin there, sucking gently at first, then harder, while his hips snap upward. He shifts from letting you grind to actively pounding into you, thrusting deep and fast from below. Each rough stroke makes you whimper, your fingers clutching his shoulders as pleasure spikes through you.

“I’m sorry—” he whispers hotly against your neck, voice strained and weak between open-mouthed kisses. His thrusts grow erratic, sloppy, and frantic. “Fuck, I’m so sorry…I’m gonna cum inside you.”

His grip on your hips tightens almost painfully as he buries himself as deep as he can, moaning loudly into your neck while his cock throbs hard inside your tight heat. His body trembles beneath you, clearly fighting it for only a second longer before he loses control.

You cry out as the intense rhythm pushes you over the edge right along with him. Your orgasm crashes through you hard, walls clenching and fluttering wildly around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through your body. At the same moment, Jake groans deeply into your neck and starts cumming, pulsing hot and thick inside you with every thrust.

Still trembling and moaning from your climax, you gasp out quickly, “Finger me—please—”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He lifts you off his cock with a wet sound, lays you back on the couch, and slides two fingers deep into your dripping pussy. He keeps them buried inside you, pumping slowly and softly, curling them gently against that sensitive spot while his thumb rests lightly on your clit.

“Fuck—that’s it,” he whispers soothingly against your ear, voice gentle even as he’s still catching his breath. “You’re doing so good. Let it all out for me.”

His fingers move in slow strokes, drawing out every last pulse of your orgasm as he kisses your neck and jaw. “So pretty when you cum…keep squeezing around my fingers, baby. I’ve got you.”

He stays close, murmuring soft praises while his fingers continue their gentle rhythm inside your soaked heat, helping you ride through the aftershocks.

An hour later, you’re sprawled on the couch with your legs spread wide, one draped lazily over the armrest. Jake kneels between your thighs, his hands resting on your inner thighs to keep you open.

He starts with broad strokes of his tongue, licking up and down your slick pussy, tasting the mess you two made earlier. Then he dives in deeper, pressing his whole mouth against you and kissing your folds like he’s making out with them ; soft, wet, hungry kisses that make filthy sounds echo in the living room.

A deep moan escapes you as his tongue swirls around your clit.

Jake pulls back just enough to grin up at you, lips glistening. “Hey, you gotta be quiet,” he teases in a joking tone, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can’t hear the TV show if you’re moaning like that. Rude.”

You try to focus on the screen, but the pleasure is making you sleepy and relaxed. Your eyelids start to flutter, growing heavier as you sink deeper into the couch.

Without warning, Jake tightens his grip on your thighs and thrusts his tongue straight into your pussy, fucking you with it in deep, firm strokes. Your eyes snap open with a sharp gasp, hips twitching against his face as the sudden intensity jolts you awake.

He pulls back for a second, smirking. “There you go. Can’t have you falling asleep on me already,” he murmurs playfully, before diving right back in, tongue thrusting into you again while his nose nudges your clit.

His hands hold you firmly in place as he eats you out with renewed energy, clearly determined to keep you wide awake and moaning.

You can’t hold back anymore.

The steady thrust of Jake’s tongue inside you, combined with the way his nose keeps rubbing against your swollen clit, pushes you straight over the edge. Your second orgasm hits hard and fast. Your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out, back arching off the couch while waves of pleasure crash through you.

While you’re still cumming, he quickly pulls his tongue out and replaces it with two fingers, sliding them deep into your clenching pussy. He curls them gently against that sensitive spot, pumping them slowly and steadily to draw out your orgasm even longer.

“That’s it…cum on my fingers again, baby,” he murmurs against your thigh, voice low and husky as he watches you fall apart. “Fuck, you’re squeezing so tight.”

He keeps fingering you through every pulse and shudder, soft and deep, never rushing. His thumb moves up to circle your clit lazily, prolonging the pleasure until your moans turn into breathy whimpers and your body finally starts to relax.

Even then, he doesn’t pull his fingers out right away. He leaves them buried inside your warm, fluttering heat, gently stroking your walls while he kisses the inside of your thigh, looking up at you with a satisfied, slightly smug smile.

─────────

Both of you cuddling in his bed, and sleep finally gets to you. You're both tangled in his sheets, limbs intertwined, the warmth of his body a grounding presence against your back. His arm is draped over your waist, his breath slow and even against your neck, and you can feel the occasional press of his lips against your shoulder ; delicate, absent, as he's kissing you even in his sleep.

You should be content and you are content. Nevertheless, there's a dull ache beginning to throb behind your eyes, a persistent pressure that makes you wince when you shift against the pillow.

"Jake," you murmur, your voice rough. "I have a headache."

He stirs behind you, his arm tightening around your waist. "Mmm?"

"A headache. Do you have any painkillers?"

He blinks, his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Bathroom cabinet on the top shelf. There's a bottle."

You start to untangle yourself, but his arm holds you for a moment longer, pulling you back against him. "Don't go," he mumbles, his nose brushing your ear.

"I'll be right back." You press a kiss to his knuckles, and he loosens his grip.

You pad out of the bedroom, the cool air of the apartment raising goosebumps on your bare skin. You grab the shirt he'd left on the floor ; his shirt, the one he'd worn earlier ; and pull it over your head. It falls to your thighs, soft and worn, and you feel a small thrill at the intimacy of it.

The bathroom is as small as you could remember the last time you took a shower, the light harsh when you flick it on. You find the painkillers easily, shake two into your palm, and turn to get water.

You pause.

The drawer next to the sink is slightly open, just a crack, and something inside catches your eye. You don't know why you reach for it. Curiosity, maybe. The same instinct that made you want to see the photo frame by his bed.

You pull it open.

The drawer is filled with photographs ; loose, some curled at the edges, same as snapshots you'd find in a shoebox under a bed. But these aren't random. You recognize the faces.

Your face. And Jake's face.

Both of you, younger. His hair is different, shorter, but the smile is the same. Your hair is shorter too, your eyes brighter, and you're pressed together like you've known each other for years. In another, you're at a café, holding up coffee cups, laughing at something off-camera. In another, you're in a park, your head on his shoulder, his arm around you like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Your hands are shaking. You dig deeper, pulling out more photos. One with your parents. Your mother's arm around you, your father's hand on Jake's shoulder, and the four of you are smiling at the camera like a family.

Another with Jungwon. He's younger, his face rounder, and he's giving a thumbs-up while Jake ruffles his hair.

You drop the photos. They scatter across the floor, and you stumble back, your back hitting the bathroom wall.

This doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. You don't remember any of this. You've never seen these photos before in your life. But your face is there, your smile, your eyes. And Jake is there too, always beside you, he's always been part of the picture.

The memory loss. The three years.

You feel the world tilt beneath you, the edges of your vision going fuzzy. The photos on the floor stare up at you, silent and damning.

"Y/N?"

Jake's voice. He's at the doorway, his eyes still sleep-soft, and he's holding a glass of water. He takes one step into the bathroom, then stops. His gaze drops to the photos scattered around your feet.

The glass slips from his fingers. It shatters against the tile, water spreading in a river across the floor.

"Y/N," he says again, and his voice is different now, sounding afraid.

You look at him. At the face you've come to know over these past weeks. The face you've kissed, laughed with, let hold you. The face that has been hiding everything from you.

"You knew me?" you say, and your voice comes out flat, hollow. "You knew me before?"

He doesn't answer as the look on his face says it all.

"All this time," you continue, the words spilling out now, unstoppable. "You knew everything. You knew me. You knew me and you didn't say anything."

"I was going to tell you." His voice is low. "I was trying to find the right time. I didn't want to scare you—"

"Scare me?" A broken laugh escapes you. "I've been living in a fog for a year. I've been trying to piece together who I am, and you—you've been standing right there, holding all the pieces, and you didn't tell me."

The rain starts outside, a sudden downpour that hammers against the window. You don't remember putting on his clothes, but you're moving now, past him, through the apartment, toward the door. He calls your name without you turning back.

You barge into the hallway. The stairs are a blur beneath your feet. You burst out into the rain, and it hits you like a wall ; cold, merciless, soaking through the shirt, your hair and your skin.

You don't know where you're going, and you know you can't be near him, nor look at his face and see the truth you were too blind to notice.

The street is empty, the rain turning the pavement into a river. You walk, then run, your bare feet slapping against the wet ground, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind you, you hear a door slam. A voice calling your name, distant and helpless.

Your legs don’t seem to want to stop. Your bare feet slap against the wet pavement, each step sending shocks through your legs, but you don't stop. You actually can't stop because if you do, you'll have to think, and thinking means facing what you just saw.

Your fingers fumble with your phone, slick with rain, and you manage to pull up Jungwon's contact. It rings once, twice, three times, and then the automated voice cuts in. Voicemail. Full. You try again and it’s the same result.

"Come on," you mutter, your voice cracking. "Come on, pick up. Pick up—"

The phone slips from your grip, clattering onto the wet ground. You leave it behind and keep walking, your arms wrapped around yourself, the thin fabric of his shirt doing nothing to ward off the cold.

"Y/N."

His voice. Behind you. Closer than you expected.

You keep walking faster, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Y/N, please—just stop—"

"I don't want to talk to you." Your voice is barely audible over the rain. "Go away."

"I can't do that." His footsteps are closer now. "I can't let you run out like this. It's not safe."

"You don't get to decide what's safe for me." You finally stop, spinning around to face him. He's there, a few meters away, soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead, his chest heaving. He's stopped too, keeping his distance like you're a wild animal that might bolt.

"You don't get to decide anything," you continue, your voice rising. "You knew me. You knew me and you lied. Every single day, every single conversation—you looked at me and you knew exactly who I was, and you let me stumble around like an idiot trying to figure it out."

"I didn't lie—"

"Hiding the truth is lying." You're shaking now, from cold and anger. "You kept all of it from me. The photos, the memories—" You gesture wildly. "Everything. You let me think we were strangers." Your voice cracks. "You let me fall for you like you were someone new."

"I had to." His voice is raw. "I had to keep it from you. It was the only way—"

"The only way for what?" You're yelling now, the rain muffling the sound but not the anger. "The only way to protect yourself? The only way to make sure you didn't have to deal with the mess of my broken brain?"

He flinches like you've struck him. "No. That's not—"

"Then what? What the fuck is about?"

He's quiet for a long moment. The rain falls between you, heavy and cold, a curtain that separates you from him. When he speaks, his voice is quieter, barely above a whisper.

"Because I was scared."

You laugh, a hollow, broken sound. "Scared of what?"

"Of this." He gestures between the two of you. "Of you remembering and looking at me like you are right now. Like I'm a stranger. Like I'm someone who hurt you."

Your chest tightens. "God—Jake do you even care about me?"

"I fucking do." He takes a step closer, and then stops himself. "I loved you, Y/N. Before the accident. We were—" He runs a hand through his wet hair, his voice cracking. "We were together. For three freaking years. We lived together. We had a life."

You stare at him, the words hitting you like blows. "I don't remember."

"I’m aware of that." He's crying now, his tears mistook for rain drops. You can't tell. "I’m aware that you don't. And that's—that's the worst part. Because I've been standing here, watching you rebuild your life, and every time you looked at me like I was a stranger, it felt like losing you all over again."

"Why did you stay, then?" Your voice is barely a whisper. "Why didn't you just leave?"

"Because I made a promise." He meets your eyes. "A promise to your brother, to Jungwon. After the accident, when you couldn't remember anything—he came to me. He said that if I really loved you, I would stay away. That seeing me, remembering me, would confuse you. That it would hurt you more than it would help."

"So you just—walked away?"

"I tried. I moved to another city. I told myself it was for the best. But I couldn't." He stops, his voice breaking. "I couldn't stay away. When I heard you were coming back here, I told myself I wouldn't interfere and that I'd keep my distance. But then I saw you with that stupid umbrella, and—"

His words trail off, lost in the rain. You stand there, shivering, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

"I was scared," he continues, his voice still barely audible. "I was scared that if I told you, you'd run. That you'd look at me and feel nothing. That the person you were before—the person I loved—was gone forever, and I couldn't bear that. So I kept it to myself. I told myself I was protecting you. But really, I was protecting myself."

The silence stretches between you.

"You should have told me," you finally say, and your voice is weak, drained of emotion. "You should have trusted me to handle it."

"I know." He looks down at the ground. "I know. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. I just—" He stops, his shoulders shaking. "I just wanted to hold onto the part of you that was still mine. Even if you didn't know it."

Your chest is heaving again and you feel the tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. You're not sure when you started crying or maybe you've been crying this whole time.

"When?" Your voice cracks once again. "When did we—when did we first meet?"

He looks up, and you see the tears streaming down his face, indistinguishable from the rain. "Nineteen," he says, his voice raw and broken. "We were nineteen. You were wearing that oversized Bieber shirt, and you tripped over your own feet walking into that library, and I—" He pauses, a sob tearing from his throat. "I fell in love with you right there."

You feel the sob building in your chest, unstoppable and devastating. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay." He's crying openly now, his shoulders shaking. "I—I needed you to know that you were loved. That you are loved. By me. Always."

Your legs give out. You don't realize it until you're sinking, your knees hitting the wet pavement, your hands bracing against the cold ground. The sobs are torn from you now, ugly and loud, your entire body shaking with the force of them.

He’s already moving. His feet splash against the wet ground, closing the distance between you in seconds. He drops to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you against his chest. His body shields you from the rain, his hands cradling the back of your head, pressing your face into the warmth of his neck.

"I'm sorry," he's saying, over and over, his voice broken and fragile. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Y/N."

You feel his tears against your skin, his body shaking with the same sobs that are tearing through you. He holds you tighter, afraid you'll disappear, and you grip the wet fabric of his shirt, your fingers twisted in the material.

"I don't remember," you choke out. "I don't remember any of it."

"That's okay." His voice is a whisper, trembling. "That's okay. We can—we can start over. We can make new memories. Whatever you need. I'll give you whatever you need."

You pull back just enough to look at him. His face is streaked with rain and tears, his eyes red-rimmed, his expression open and completely unguarded.

You let him hold you, his arms wrapped around you like a shield against the world, and you feel something shift in your chest. The rain continues to fall, but you barely notice it anymore.

All you feel is him.

─────────

The next morning. You're sitting on the edge of the couch, your legs stretched out in front of you, the bruises on your knees a mottled purple from the fall the night before. The rain has stopped, but the world outside is still wet, the streets glistening under the gray sky.

Jake is kneeling in front of you, a small first-aid kit open on the floor beside him. His movements are gentle, careful, as he dabs at the scrapes with an antiseptic wipe. You flinch slightly at the sting, and he murmurs an apology, his fingers light against your skin.

"I could do it on my own." you say, your voice hoarse from crying.

"Let me do it for you. Please." He doesn't look up, his focus on the cut on your knee. "I should have done this last night, but you were—" He stops, swallowing. "You were upset. I didn't want to push."

You watch him as he works, the furrow of concentration between his brows, his lower lip catches between his teeth. His hands are steady despite everything, carefully smoothing the edges of a bandage over your skin.

"There," he says softly. "All done."

You're about to say something when the door slams open.

Jungwon stands in the doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. He's still in his clothes from yesterday, his hair disheveled, his phone clutched in his hand like a lifeline. He must have come straight from wherever he was, must have run the whole way. His gaze sweeps the room and takes in the two of you. Jake kneeling at your feet. The bandage on your knee. Your tear-streaked face. And mostly, the visible tension in the air.

He looks at Jake and at you while shifting his gaze between both of you.

"Fuck." he says, the word heavy, loaded with remorse.

Jake rises slowly to his feet. He stands there, his hands at his sides, his face blank.

"Jungwon," he starts, but Jungwon cuts him off.

"What the fuck, Jake." He steps into the room, the door swinging shut behind him. "I told you—I told you to stay away. I told you it would be better for her. And for everyone. And you—" He stops, his jaw tight. "You couldn't keep your promise for even a year?"

"It wasn't like that." Jake's voice is steady yet a tremor is present beneath it. "I didn't plan this. It just happened."

"It just happened?" Jungwon scoffs. "You see her in the hallway and suddenly all your promises mean nothing?"

"Jungwon—" you start, both of them turn to look at you, and the weight of their gazes makes the words die in your throat. Jungwon's expression softens slightly. "Are you okay?" he asks, the question is directed at you, not Jake.

You don't know how to answer that. Are you okay? You're sitting in the apartment of a man you've known for weeks, who apparently knew you for three years before that, who you still can't remember, who you cried in the rain with, who bandaged your knees this morning because he cares about you. And you can’t understand any of it.

"I don't know," you say honestly.

Jungwon runs a hand through his hair, exhales slowly. "I should have told you," he says with regret in his voice. "I should have told you about him. About everything. I thought I was protecting you, but I—" He pauses and shakes his head. "I made it worse."

"He knew," you say, voice flat. "He knew and he kept it from me. You both did."

Jake flinches and Jungwon looks away.

"I had to," Jake says quietly. "I had to see if you could remember on your own. If there was any part of you that still—" He swallows, the words caught in his throat. "I needed to know if you could love me without the memories."

Jungwon's head snaps toward him. "That's not why you did it."

"Isn't it?" Jake's voice is raw. "I wanted to believe that if I just gave you time, you'd remember, and I know that it sounds stupid. That you'd look at me and see all the years we had. But you didn't. You never did." He looks at you, his eyes glassy. "And I had to accept that the person I loved might never come back. But I still loved you anyway."

The silence in the room is suffocating. You look from Jake to Jungwon, the weight of their secrets pressing down on you, and you feel something crack inside your chest.

Jungwon is the one to break it. "I'm sorry," he says, the words are directed at both of you. "I was scared. I didn't want to lose you again, Y/N. And when I saw the two of you starting to know each other I panicked." He confesses, his composure cracking. "I just wanted to protect you and I failed. I failed both of you."

Jake stays silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.

You take a breath. The air is thick, but you force yourself to speak.

"I don't remember him," you say, looking at Jungwon. "I don't remember any of it. But I—" You stop, your voice catching. "I know I felt something. Even when I didn't know who he was. That has to count for something, doesn't it?"

Jungwon meets your eyes. Then he nods, slowly.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "It does."

─────────

The afternoon has settled in, the earlier tension slowly unwinding like a knot being picked apart. Jungwon left an hour ago, his goodbye awkward but not hostile, a promise to call later that felt more like a question than a statement. You'd watched him go, the door clicking shut behind him, and then you'd turned to find Jake standing in the middle of the living room, his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes uncertain.

Neither of you had spoken for a while. Then you'd walked to the kitchen, pulled out a cutting board and some vegetables, and started preparing something that might become dinner. He'd followed, hovering at the edge of the counter, until you'd handed him a knife and told him to chop the onions.

Now you're standing at the stove, stirring a pan of vegetables, while Jake sits on a stool behind you. His fingers are in your hair again, separating strands, twisting them together with a concentration that's become familiar over the past few days. The braid is better than yesterday ; still not perfect, but recognizable.

"You're getting better at this," you say, your voice quiet.

"I've had practice." An incredible softness in his voice. "Also, you're very patient. That helps."

You stir the vegetables, watching them sizzle and soften. The silence is comfortable, however, there's something sitting between you, a question you've been turning over in your mind since last night.

"Jake," you start, and you feel him pause, his fingers stilling in your hair. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

You keep your eyes on the pan. "Last night—was that our first time?"

You feel him go still behind you. His hands are frozen in your hair, and for a moment, you think you've overstepped. You feel his breath, a soft exhale, and his hands resume their work.

"Yes," he says, and his voice is careful. "That was our first time."

The words hang in the air. You nod slowly, processing. "So we never had sex…before the accident?"

He shakes his head, even though you can't see him. "We were close, and we lived together. But we never did those kind of things." He pauses, his fingers continuing to work through your hair. "We were waiting. I don't know what we were waiting for. The right moment, maybe." His voice drops. "I never really thought about it. I just knew I wanted it to be right."

You set down the spoon, turning to face him. He's watching you, his hands hovering where your hair falls against your shoulders. His eyes are searching, cautious.

"Jake," you say. "How long did you go without doing it?" You stop, not sure how to phrase it. "Without being with anyone?"

He understands. His jaw tightens, and he looks down at his hands. "It’s been a year. Since the accident." He meets your eyes again. "I couldn't. I tried to…talk to girls, once. It didn't feel right. I mean, I didn't feel right. I couldn't even hold someone's hand without feeling like I was betraying you."

You feel your breath catch. "Even when you didn't know if I'd ever remember?"

"Especially then." His voice honest. "It didn't matter if you remembered me or not. I remembered you. I knew what we had, and…I couldn't replace that. I really didn't want to."

You look at him, this man who's been carrying this weight for three years, who stayed loyal to a ghost he didn't know would ever come back. You look at his hands shaking slightly, his eyes are glassy.

"I didn't know," you say.

"How could you?"

You reach out, your hand finding his. He looks down at your fingers intertwined, and you feel the dull trembling in his grip.

"Thank you," you say, your voice almost a whisper. "For waiting. Even when you didn't have to."

He looks at you with vulnerability in his gaze. "I never really had a choice. It was always you. It's always been you."

You pull him closer, your arms wrapping around him, your face pressing into his shoulder. He holds you back, his arms tight around your waist, and you feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest.

The vegetables are still burning. You're still wrapped in his arms, your face pressed into his shoulder, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt. His hand is cradling the back of your head, his fingers gently threading through the braid he'd just finished.

He pulls back to look at you. His eyes are red-rimmed, his face still carrying the traces of the tears you'd both shed.

"I love you," he says.

The words are simple, unadorned. Only three words, spoken as they've been sitting on his tongue for years, waiting for the right moment to be released. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Your throat is tight, your chest aching with the pressure of everything you don't know how to say.

Noticing your silence, he leans in, his lips pressing against your forehead, lingering long enough for you to feel the slight shaking in his breath.

Then your cheek. The corner of your eye. The bridge of your nose. Each kiss is slow, like he's tracing the contours of your face with his mouth, memorizing every inch. His lips brush your temple, your jaw, the base of your neck.

"You don't have to say it back," he murmurs against your skin. "I just needed you to know."

You feel the tears pricking at your eyes again, yet they're not the same as before. "You've been carrying this for a year," you manage, your voice thick. "And you still—"

"Still love you." He presses another kiss to your cheek, then your other cheek, then the corner of your mouth. "Yes. I do. And I'll keep saying it until you're tired of hearing it."

"I won't get tired."

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours.

"That’s good for me." he says softly, the smile that tugs at his lips is small and tentative. His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that have escaped down your cheeks. He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, and you feel the warmth of him surrounding you.

"Jake," you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Stay with me. While I try to remember. While I figure this out." You swallow. "Don't leave again."

He doesn't hesitate once. "I won't."

His lips find yours, soft and gentle, and when he pulls back, he presses one last kiss to the tip of your nose.

You were ready to rebuild your life, with everything you’ve shared from now, with him.

You met in the library every Tuesday afternoon. Same table, same corner, same routine. You were already there when he walked in, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest.

He dropped his bag on the floor, and you watched him settle into the chair across from you. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it. He looked tired but happy, that easy smile already on his face.

"Professor let us out early," he said, grinning.

"Lucky you."

"Lucky us." He leaned forward. "Now I get to spend extra time with my favorite person."

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed. The usual performance.

"Your favorite person? What about Heeseung?"

"Heeseung doesn't bring me cookies."

"You only like me for my baking."

"And your cute personality." He grinned.

You laughed softly, the soft, sweet laugh you'd perfected. It made people think you were shy and made them want to protect you.

Jake fell for it every single time.

"You're studying already?" He peered at your notes. "Midterms aren't for another week."

"I like to be prepared."

"You're going to get a perfect score. You always do."

"It's not about perfect scores." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's about understanding the material."

He chuckled then his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long. "Hey, are you free this weekend? The boys are having a party, nothing crazy. Just people."

You tilted your head. "People?"

"Okay, lots of people. But it's at Jay's place, so it'll be chill. Well, as chill as Jay's place gets."

You considered it. You'd been to a handful of parties with Jake before, and you'd spent the night in the corner, sipping water and smiling politely while his friends tried to talk to you.

"Maybe," you said. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too hard." He grinned. "You might hurt yourself."

You swatted his arm. He laughed.

And you watched the way his eyes crinkled, the way his whole face lit up and you thought about how easy it would be to tell him the truth.

But you didn't. Because whatever this was, was too much fun.

The party at Jay's house was on a Saturday night.

You wore something soft and innocent. A pale pink loose top that fell off one shoulder, jean skirts that were just tight enough to be cute but not too tight. Your hair was down, and you'd put on just enough makeup to look like you weren't wearing any.

You fitted the image of the innocent sweetheart so perfectly but deep down you were a girl who was anything but innocent.

The house was packed when you arrived. Music vibrated through the walls, and the smell of cheap beer and drunk students filled the place. You pushed through the crowd, smiling politely at people who recognized you, nodding at the ones who called out your name.

Y/N! Hey! You made it!

The sweetheart is here!

Where's your boyfriend?

You laughed at that one. Soft and shy. "Jake's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."

"Sure," the guy said, winking. "Whatever you say pretty."

You found Jake in the kitchen, surrounded by his friends. His head was thrown back laughing at something, his whole body relaxed in a way it never was around you. Around you he was careful and gentle. Like you might break.

It used to make you feel special. Now it just made you want to scream.

"Y/N!" He spotted you and crossed the room in quick strides. "You came."

"Told you I would." You smiled up at him. "You look nice."

He always did but tonight he'd made an effort dark baggy jeans, a fitted white shirt, his hair pushed back from his forehead. He also looked like he'd been drinking.

"You look nice too," he said. "You always look nice. But like. Tonight. You look really-" He stopped himself, clearing his throat. "Do you want a drink?"

"Water's fine."

"Of course it is." He grinned, reaching into the fridge. "Water for the sweetheart."

You watched him, your expression soft and eyes wide. The perfect picture of innocence. Jake's hand found the small of your back, a warm, possessive weight as he introduced you to yet another friend whose name you'd forget in seconds. You smiled, demure, your fingers curled around a glass of water that had long gone warm. You were the perfect picture of sweetness, his sweetheart, the girl who sipped water at a party full of cheap beer and bad decisions.

"I'm gonna grab another round with the guys," Jake leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You okay here?"

You nodded, your lashes fluttering. "I'm fine. I think I'm going to find the bathroom."

He kissed your temple, a soft gesture that made something in your chest tighten, though you weren't sure if it was guilt or amusement. "Don't wander off too far."

You gave him a delicate smile, the kind that made him melt and slipped through the crowd. The hallway to the bathroom was darker, the music muffled by the walls. You pushed the door open, but before you could step inside, a hand shot out, caging you against the wall.

"Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart."

Your heart didn't jump. You knew that voice, the voice that had haunted a handful of late nights a couple weeks ago.

Jeno. A knowing smirk curling his lips as he looked down at you. He was taller than you remembered, or maybe you just forgot how he towered.

"Jeno." You let his name roll off your tongue. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, probably." His eyes dipped down, tracing the short of your skirt and the way your chest rose and fell. "Looking for trouble."

You laughed, a soft breathy sound that wasn't quite innocent. "I'm not looking for anything."

"No?" He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing yours. He tilted his head, his gaze sharp. "Does he know what you look like when you're not playing the part?"

A shiver ran down your spine and he saw it. The way your breath hitched and he laughed. His hand slid to your waist, fingers digging into the soft curve of your hip.

"Been thinkin about you," he murmured, his mouth trailing down the column of your neck. "Thinking about that night. You remember?"

"Which one?" you whispered, your voice dipping into something husky, something that wasn't the sweet, water drinking girl Jake thought he knew. "You'll have to be more specific."

"Fucking brat." He nipped at your collarbone and you arched into him, a soft, approving hum escaping your lips.

You let him push you a little farther into the shadows, let his hands wander, let his mouth find yours. It was all heat and teeth and a quiet desperation. His tongue swept against your lower lip, and you bit down, just hard enough to make him groan.

"Still a menace," he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

You licked your lips, tasting him, tasting the lie you were about to tell. "Maybe," you said, tilting your head, all innocence and invitation. "Catch me later."

He grinned, a flash of white in the dim light. "Count on it."

And then he was gone back into the party, leaving you pressed against the wall, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You took a moment to compose yourself. You smoothed your skirt, ran your fingers through your hair, and checked your reflection in the tiny, cracked mirror by the bathroom door. Your eyes were bright, your lips a little swollen, your cheeks flushed.

You walked back to the living room, weaving through the crowd until you found Jake. When he saw you, his whole face softened.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, stepping closer, his hand reaching for yours.

You leaned into him, letting your body sag against his like you were exhausted and overwhelmed. You pressed your face into his shoulder, and you could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat, so steady so trusting.

"Just a lot," you murmured, your voice muffled. "Can we go? I think I need some air this party is a lot for me."

His hand came up to stroke your hair, gentle, so fucking gentle. "Of course. Let's get you out of here."

He said his goodbyes, slapping backs and shaking hands, his arm never leaving your waist. You walked out into the cool night air, and he opened the car door for you, his eyes soft with concern.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, buckling his seatbelt.

You looked at him, the streetlights casting shadows across his earnest face. You smiled, slow and sweet, and reached across to squeeze his hand.

"I am now," you said. "Let's go."

And as he pulled away from the curb, you let your head fall back against the headrest, your lips curling into a secret, satisfied smile.

The warm morning air hit you as you walked across campus, your bag slung over one shoulder, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Jake walked beside you, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, rambling about something his professor said that made no sense. You nodded along, making the right sounds of interest, your mind still half asleep.

Then you saw him.

Jeno was leaning against the brick wall near the exit, his arms crossed, that lazy smirk already in place. His eyes found you instantly, dark and knowing, and your step faltered for just a fraction of a second.

"Hey, sweetheart," he called out, pushing off the wall and walking toward you. "Been looking for you, as always."

Jake's brow furrowed. He glanced between you and Jeno, his posture straightening. "You know him?"

Before you could answer, Jeno was there, too close, his voice dropping low. "Where were you last night? I waited."

You felt your stomach flip. "I left early," you said, keeping your voice even and your eyes innocent. "I wasn't feeling well."

"Bullshit." Jeno laughed. "You weren't feeling well, or you were feeling too good? Because I remember you feeling pretty damn good when we were-"

"Back up," Jake cut in, stepping between you and Jeno. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, almost like a warning. "She said she wasn't feeling well. Take the hint."

Jeno's eyes flicked to Jake, assessing him. A slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, this is him? The best friend?" He looked past Jake, straight at you. "You didn't tell him, did you? About us?"

Your heart hammered, but you kept your face soft, confused. "There's nothing to tell. We talked a few times. That's all."

"Talked?" Jeno's laugh was louder this time. "Is that what we call it now? Because I remember your mouth being pretty busy for just talking."

Jake tensed, his jaw clenching. "What are you talking about?"

"Jake, ignore him," you said quickly, reaching for his arm. "He's just trying to cause trouble. He's always been like this."

Jeno's eyes narrowed. "Always been like this? Baby, you used to love the way I am." He stepped closer, ignoring Jake entirely. "You gonna pretend last night didn't happen too? Or the other nights when-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said, your voice trembling just enough. You pressed closer to Jake, letting your fingers curl into his sleeve. "You're scaring me."

Jeno's smirk faltered. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes confusion, maybe even hurt. But then it was gone, replaced by cold amusement. "Right. Of course. You're so good at that, aren't you? Playing the victim."

"Get lost," Jake said, his voice hard. He stepped forward, putting himself fully between you and Jeno. "She said she doesn't know you. That's enough."

Jeno held up his hands, backing away slowly. His eyes never left yours. "Fine. But you can't run forever, sweetheart." He winked, a cruel, knowing gesture. "We both know you'll come back eventually."

He turned and walked away, hands in his pockets, whistling some tune.

Jake stood there for a moment, breathing hard. Then he turned to you, his expression softening, concern replacing the anger. "You okay? Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head, letting your eyes well up just a little. "I don't know why he's like that. We barely even talked. He just... he won't leave me alone."

"Hey, hey." Jake pulled you into a hug, his arms warm and solid around you. "It's okay. He's gone. I'm not gonna let him bother you."

You buried your face in his chest, letting out a shaky breath. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Always," he murmured into your hair. "Come on, let's get you to class."

You walked together, your hand in his, your steps slow and careful. Jake kept glancing at you, checking, making sure you were okay.

"Oh, by the way," he said, breaking the silence. "I'm going out with the boys for dinner tonight. But I was thinking after, I could come over? Watch the new Toy Story with you?"

You looked up at him, your smile soft and grateful. "I'd like that."

"Cool." He grinned, squeezing your hand. "I'll bring snacks. The good popcorn."

"My favorite," you said, your voice sweet as honey.

You walked into the building together, and Jake held the door for you, his gaze warm and trusting. You stepped past him, and for just a second, over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of Jeno across the quad. He was watching you still, arms crossed, that smirk firmly back in place.

You turned away, your smile never wavering. You let him watch. You knew exactly what you were doing.

The restaurant was buzzing, warm light spilling over the table where Jake sat with his friends. The whole crew, all of them crammed into a corner booth, drinks half empty.

Ni-ki was scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to the conversation, when he suddenly burst out laughing. Like, full on wheezing, slapping the table, tears forming in his eyes kind of laughing.

"Bro, what the hell?" Jay asked, reaching over to smack his arm. "You good?"

Ni-ki couldn't even speak. He just shoved his phone across the table, pointing at the screen. "Look. Look at this idiot."

Sunghoon grabbed it first, his eyebrows shooting up. Then he started laughing too, shaking his head. "Oh my god. Oh my GOD."

"What? What is it?" Sunoo leaned over, and within seconds, he was cackling, covering his mouth.

Heeseung took the phone, read whatever was on it, and let out a low whistle. "Damn. Jeno's down bad."

Jake frowned, setting down his beer. "What about Jeno?"

"Your girl's got that man whipped," Ni-ki said, still giggling. "Look."

He passed the phone to Jake. It was Jeno's Instagram story a photo of him looking all love sick, texting someone, with the caption: "She left me on read again. Should I double text? Asking for a friend (it's me, I'm the friend)."

Jake stared at it for a second, then let out a weird laugh. "Wait, you think he's talking about-"

"Bro, who else would it be?" Jay laughed, grabbing the phone back. "Your girl's got him wrapped around her finger. It's actually kinda sad. Look at him bro he's a mess."

"Okay, but that's crazy," Sunghoon said, scrolling through more of Jeno's story. "Like, look. He's posting thirst traps now, because she didn't reply."

Ni-ki was wheezing again. "Bro is on his hands and knees for her. Literally posted a black screen with 'come back' in the lyrics of some sad song."

"He's got it baaaad," Sunoo added, wiping his eyes.

Jake was quiet, but he was smiling, a little confused. "I mean... she's sweet, but she's not like... she's not that type of person to entertain him. He's such a fuck boy and well she's innocent, she's never even-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Jay held up a hand, choking on his drink. "Did you just say innocent?"

"Yeah?" Jake blinked. "She's shy. She's not into all that stuff. She told me-"

"Bro." Heeseung leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. "Are you serious right now?"

"What do you mean?"

Ni-ki was still scrolling on his phone while laughing. "Okay, okay. Let me tell you something. Do you know Yeonjun? Basketball guy?"

"The star player? Yeah, I know him. What about him?"

"You know the championship game last semester? The one where he went crazy and dropped like 40 points?"

Jake nodded slowly.

Ni-ki was barely containing himself. "Apparently, your sweet, innocent girl gave him a little pre game 'motivation' in the locker room. If you know what I mean."

Jake stared at him. "What?"

"Like," Sunghoon made a gesture with his hand near his mouth, "you know. The good luck kind."

"Bullshit," Jake said immediately. "She would never."

"Oh, she would." Heeseung was laughing now too. "And she did. The whole team was talking about it. Walked out with her lipgloss smeared and everything. He played like a god that night."

"There's no way-" Jake started, but Jungwon cut him off.

"Okay, okay, but that's just the start. You guys heard about the threesome rumor, right?"

"The WHAT?" Jake's voice cracked.

Sunghoon was wheezing now. "Oh my god, yes I have. Bro, there was a rumor going around last year that she-"

"Okay, I don't think it was confirmed," Jay interrupted, still grinning. "But people were saying she had a thing with two guys from the soccer team. At the same time. In the equipment room."

"THAT'S NOT REAL." Jake's face was red now, his eyes wide. "That's literally not real. She wouldn't- she's not like that."

"She literally gave good luck head to a basketball player," Ni-ki said flatly. "In a locker room. Before a game. With other guys in there."

"I could've sworn she told me she was studying that night!" Jake yelled, throwing his hands up.

His friends all looked at each other for a second. Then they burst out laughing again.

"Bro..." Sunghoon shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes. "I hate to break it to you, but your girl is far from innocent."

"She's literally got Jeno begging and Jeno never begs," Heeseung added. "And you're over here thinking she's never been touched? She's been touched, man. By a lot of people probably."

"And you think she's shy," Sunghoon added, snickering. "She's got three different guys on the line and you think she's shy."

"That is crazy," Ni-ki laughed even more seeing Jeno post a picture of you and him cuddled up with a corny caption in attempts to get you back. "Bro is literally the backup option and he doesn't even know."

"I am not the backup option," Jake snapped. But even as he said it, his voice wavered.

They all stared at him for a second.

Then Heeseung lost it. "Oh my god. You are the backup option!"

"NAH, HE'S THE SAFETY NET," Jay shouted, cackling.

"The nice guy," Jungwon added. "The one who takes her to dinner and walks her to class while Jeno gets the late night texts."

"This is the funniest thing I've ever heard," Ni-ki wheezed, slamming his hand on the table. "Bro thought she was saving herself for him!"

"Guys, she literally has Jeno posting love songs for her at 1 AM," Sunghoon snorted. "And she's probably still responding to him. While you're over here playing Toy Story with her."

Jake's face was burning. His jaw was tight, his hands clenched under the table. "Okay. That's enough."

But they couldn't stop laughing.

"This is insane," Heeseung said, shaking his head. "You were out here thinking she's this innocent little angel while she's got damn near the whole campus on speed dial."

"I'm leaving," Jake muttered, pushing back from the table.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ni-ki called after him. "Bro, don't be mad. It's just funny! She's got you both wrapped around her finger and you don't even know."

Jake grabbed his jacket, his face of embarrassment. "I'm not wrapped around anyone's finger."

"Sure you're not," Jay called after him, still laughing. "That's why you lend her your sweaters and she wears them while making out with Jeno!"

"SHUT UP!" Jake yelled back, but his friends just howled with laughter as he stormed out of the restaurant.

The cool night air hit his face. He stood there on the sidewalk, breathing hard, his phone feeling heavy in his pocket.

He pulled it out. Your message was still there, sitting pretty: "Can't wait to watch Toy Story with you tonight. You're the best <3"

He stared at it for a long moment.

And then, despite everything, despite all of it, he laughed. A dry, humorless, disbelieving laugh.

He was literally the backup option. The nice guy. The one you watched Disney movies with while you're out there doing all that.

He shoved his phone and started walking to your place despite his head and heart racing.

The door clicked shut behind Jake, and you were already there, all soft smiles and warm eyes, your hair falling in gentle waves around your shoulders. You were wearing one of his hoodies and you looked so sweet, so perfectly innocent, that something twisted painfully in his chest.

"Hey, you're early!" you said, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. "I was just getting the popcorn ready. Toy Story's all queued up."

He didn't hug you back. His hands stayed at his sides, stiff and unmoving.

You pulled back, your brow furrowing. "Jake? What's wrong? You seem off."

He walked past you into the living room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He stood there for a moment, staring at nothing.

"Jake, you're scaring me," you said softly, coming up behind him. "Talk to me."

He turned around slowly, his eyes searching your face. "My friends told me some things tonight."

"Okay?" You tilted your head, that perfect confused expression on your face. "What kind of things?"

"About you." His voice was tight. "About Jeno. About... a lot of stuff."

Your face didn't change. Not even a flicker. "Jake, I already told you. Jeno's obsessed with me. He's been spreading lies-"

"They weren't lies." His voice cracked. "They showed me his story. The picture of you. On top of him. Wearing my hoodie."

You went very still.

"They told me about Yeonjun too," he continued, his voice getting stronger, harder. "The basketball player. The locker room. Before the championship game." He laughed bitterly. "And I was sitting there telling them you were innocent. That you'd never been with anyone. That you were shy and sweet and-"

"Jake-"

"And then Sunghoon mentioned the soccer players," he cut in, his eyes burning. "The threesome rumor. And I didn't want to believe it. I thought they were messing with me.

You opened your mouth, but he kept going.

"They were laughing at me, you know. All of them. Because I was sitting there defending you like an idiot. Ni-ki was literally crying he was laughing so hard. Saying I was the backup option. The safety net. A nice guy who takes you to dinner and watches Disney movies while everyone else gets-" He stopped, his voice breaking.

Your face had gone pale, but you recovered quickly. You stepped closer, reaching for him.

"Jake, listen to me-"

"Why did you lie to me?" His voice was quiet now, raw. "Why did you make me believe you were someone you're not?"

"Because I was scared." you said, your voice trembling. "Jake, I was so scared. I knew what you thought of me. You looked at me like I was this... this pure, good person. And I wanted to be that for you. I wanted to be the girl you thought I was."

"But you weren't."

"I know, and I hated myself for it. Every time you looked at me with those eyes, like I was something special, I felt so guilty. Because I knew I didn't deserve it.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable.

"But I wasn't pretending about you," you continued, your voice breaking. "I wasn't pretending about how I feel. You're the only one who's ever made me feel like I mattered. Like I was worth something. All those other guys? They were nothing. They were distractions. But you-" You reached up and cupped his face. "You're everything, Jake. You're the only thing that's ever felt real."

He didn't pull away. He stood there, frozen, his heart warring with his head.

"I don't care about Jeno," you whispered, your thumb stroking his cheek. "I never cared about him. He was just someone to pass the time. But you? You're the one I think about when I can't sleep, the one I want to come home to. You're the one who actually sees me."

"I don't even know who you are anymore," he said, but his voice was weaker now.

"Yes, you do." You pressed closer, your bodies almost touching. "You know me better than anyone. You know I make bad choices because I don't think I deserve good things. But when I'm with you, I feel like maybe I could deserve them. Like maybe I could be better."

His hands came up, hesitantly, to rest on your waist.

"I was so scared you'd leave if you found out," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I couldn't handle that. I can't lose you, Jake. You're all I have."

He swallowed hard. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"Then let me prove it." You rose on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his.

He didn't respond at first. He just stood there, stiff and uncertain. But you didn't give up. You kissed him softly, gently, your fingers threading into his hair, your body pressing against his.

"Please," you murmured against his lips. "Please don't leave me. I can't- I can't do this without you."

"Baby..." His voice cracked.

"Let me make it better," you whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Let me make you forget all of it. Everything they told you. Everything you saw. Just let me show you how much you mean to me."

"I don't know-"

"Shh." You pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't think just feel."

You kissed him again, deeper this time, your tongue tracing his lower lip. His hands tightened on your waist, and you felt the tension in his body start to ease.

"Jake," you breathed against his mouth. "I only want you. I've always only wanted you."

He let out a shaky breath. "You mean that?"

"I mean it with my whole heart." You pulled back, looking up at him with those big, wide eyes. "I know I messed up. I know I lied. But I'll spend as long as it takes making it up to you. Just please don't leave."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then slowly, his hands slid up your back pulling you closer.

"I'm so stupid," he muttered.

"No." You shook your head, pressing another kiss to his jaw. "You're not stupid. You're kind, and sweet. You're everything I don't deserve."

"Stop saying that."

"It's true." You kissed the corner of his mouth. "But I want to try. I want to be the girl you think I am."

He cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head up. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. Whatever he found, it must have been enough, because he let out a long shaky breath.

"God, I'm so whipped," he muttered.

You let out a soft laugh, pressing your forehead to his. "Good. Because I'm whipped for you too."

And then his mouth was on yours, hungry and desperate, all his doubts and fears melting away. You walked him backward until his knees hit the couch, and he fell back, pulling you down with him.

You straddled his lap, settling comfortably against him, your hands resting on his chest. His hands gripped your thighs, his breathing uneven.

"Let me make you forget," you whispered, leaning down to kiss his neck. "Let me be the only thing you think about."

"You already are," he breathed. "You always have been."

You smiled against his skin, your fingers working at the buttons of his top.

"Good," you murmured. "Then let me show you what you've been missing."

Jake's hands were already pressing into the warm skin of your waist. You could feel him hard beneath you, his breath coming faster as you grind down against him.

"You gonna take care of me?" he asked, voice rough, hands sliding up your back.

"Mmhm," you hummed against his neck, kissing a slow path up to his ear. "But you gotta tell me what you want. I don't know anything, Jake. You gotta show me."

He let out a breathy laugh, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're so full of shit."

"Am I?" You pulled back, looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes. "I'm just a sweet innocent girl who never did anything with anyone. Remember? Never slept with Jeno, never gave Yeonjun good luck head, and never ever did I have a threesome. You told your friends that. You told everyone that."

His jaw tightened. He flipped you over so fast you gasped, your back hitting the couch, his body caging you in.

"You wanna play that game?" His voice dropped low, dangerous. "Fine. Let's play."

He yanked the hoodie up over your head, tossing it aside. Your chest was bare underneath, and his eyes darkened immediately.

"Look at you," he muttered, his thumb brushing over your nipple. "You been hiding these under my hoodie this whole time?"

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. "Jake..."

"Shh." He leaned down, his mouth hovering over your nipple. "I'm showing you, remember? Since you don't know anything."

His tongue circled your nipple slowly, teasingly, before he took it into his mouth and sucked hard. You cried out, your fingers gripping and tugging his hair.

"Fuck," he breathed, pulling back to look at the wet mess he made all over your chest. "So perfect. I've been thinking about these for months. Dreaming about them. And you just let me walk around like an idiot while you were letting everyone else-"

"Jake, please-"

"Please what?" He pinched your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers. "Please stop? Please keep going? Use your words, baby. Since you're so innocent."

You whimpered, squirming beneath him. "Please don't stop. Please touch me."

"That's more like it." He lowered his head again, switching sides, his mouth hot. His hand traveled down your stomach, slipping past the waistband of your shorts.

"So wet," he murmured against your skin. "For someone who doesn't know anything, you're pretty good at soaking through your panties."

His fingers found your clit, circling slowly, and you bucked against his hand.

"That's it," he coaxed. "Show me what you like."

You rolled your hips, chasing his fingers, your head thrown back. "More, Jake. Please. I need-"

"You need what?"

"You. I need you inside me. Please."

He pulled his hand away, and you whined at the loss. But then he was standing, pulling you up with him, his eyes dark and hungry.

"Bedroom. Now."

You stumbled down the hall, his hand on your ass, pushing you forward. The second you reached the bed, he had you face down on the mattress, your shorts and panties ripped down your legs.

"Look at that," he breathed, his palm smoothing over your ass. "All mine. You know how long I've wanted this? How many nights I've laid awake thinking about bending you over."

He smacked your ass hard, and you cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure jolting through you.

"Count," he commanded.

"One," you gasped.

He spanked you again, the sound echoing in the room.

"Two!"

Another. Harder.

"Three!"

"Good girl." His hand soothed over the reddened skin. "See? You can follow instructions when you want to."

You heard the rustle of his jeans, the sound of his belt unbuckling. Then the mattress dipped, and his body was behind you, his chest pressing against your back.

"You want this?" he asked, his lips at your ear, his cock pressing against your wet folds. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "Please, Jake. I need it."

"Need what? Say it."

"I need your cock. Please. I need you to fill me up."

He pushed inside you in one smooth stroke, and you both moaned. He was thick, stretching you, and you gripped the sheets as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "So tight. Fuck, baby. You feel so good."

He pulled out slowly, then slammed back in, and the sound you made was almost inhuman.

"That's it," he grunted, setting a brutal pace. "That's my good girl. Taking it so well."

His hand snaked around your front, finding your clit, circling in time with his thrusts. You were already close, the pressure building.

"Please don't stop," you begged. "Please, I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," he commanded. "Cum on my cock."

And you did, with a cry of his name, your walls clenching around him. He didn't slow down, fucking you through it, chasing his own release.

"Jake," you whimpered as he kept going, overstimulated but not wanting him to stop. "Jake, it's too much-"

"One more," he moaned. "You can give me one more."

He pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your back. Before you could protest, his head was between your thighs, his mouth on you.

"ohh-" You jolted, your hands fisting in his hair. "Jake!"

He was relentless, his tongue lapping at your folds, his lips sucking your clit. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured. "Could eat you all fucking night."

And he did. He worked you with his mouth until you were an absolute wreck, until your thighs were shaking, until you came again with a broken sob, your hips bucking against his face.

He pulled back, his chin glistening, and kissed his way up your body.

"One more," he said, his voice hoarse. "I need one more, baby. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't- I can't-"

"Yes you can." He kissed you, and you tasted yourself on his lips. "You're gonna take it. All of it."

He reached for his phone on the nightstand, but before he could even unlock it, it started buzzing in his hand. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening slightly.

"It's Heeseung," he muttered, looking at you with an unreadable expression. "They're probably checking on me. Making sure I didn't do something stupid."

He answered the call, bringing the phone to his ear, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah?"

You could hear the muffled sound of voices on the other end, laughter in the background.

"Bro, you good?" Heeseung's voice crackled through. "You stormed out so fast. We were getting worried."

"I'm fine," Jake said, his voice steady, calm. "I'm at her place."

"Oh shit, really?" Jay said, yelling in the background. "Did you confront her? What happened? Is she crying? Did you-"

"I'm handling it," Jake cut in smoothly. "We talked, it's fine."

You watched him, a slow smile curling on your lips. He was so composed, so in control. It was almost cute.

You shifted on the bed, crawling toward him on your hands and knees. His eyes flickered to you, a warning in them, but you just tilted your head innocently.

"Jake? You still there?" Sunghoon's voice came through.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm here."

You reached out, your fingers trailing up his thigh. His breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

"Okay, well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay," Heeseung said. "You seemed pretty wrecked earlier."

"I'm fine," Jake repeated, his voice tighter now. "Really. Everything's good."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. His hand came up, trying to push you away gently, but you just smiled against his skin.

"Bro, you sound weird," Ni-ki's voice chimed in. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." Jake's voice was strained now, his jaw clenched. "Listen, I gotta go. We'll catch up tomorrow."

"Wait, wait, wait-"

But you were already sliding down his body, your fingers wrapping around his cock. Jake's hand shot out, grabbing your shoulder, trying to push you back.

"Behave," he hissed under his breath, his eyes wide.

You just grinned up at him, all innocence, and lowered your mouth to him.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his hand flying to his mouth to muffle the sound.

"Jake? Hello?" Sunoo's voice piped through. "You still there?"

"Y-yeah," he managed, his voice cracking. "I'm here."

You took him deeper, your tongue swirling, and his hips bucked involuntarily. He gripped the sheets, his knuckles white.

"You sure you're okay, man?" Heeseung asked, sounding suspicious now. "You're breathing kinda heavy."

"Just... just tired," Jake choked out. "Long night."

You hummed around him, a soft, satisfied sound, and he nearly dropped the phone.

"Okayyyy," Jay said. "Well, we'll let you go. But seriously, if you need to talk about what happened-"

"Don't need to talk," Jake cut in, his voice strained. "I'm good. Everything's good. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Alright, bro. Take care."

"Bye."

He hung up and threw the phone onto the bed, his head falling back as a groan escaped his lips.

"What the fuck," he breathed, his hand coming down to grip your hair. "You're insane you know that?"

You pulled off just long enough to look up at him, your lips swollen, your eyes wide. "I just wanted to help you relax. You seemed so tense."

"Tense," he repeated, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. "You're going to be the death of me."

You smiled and took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, your hand working what your mouth couldn't reach. His hips bucked again, his fingers tightening in your hair.

"That's it," he groaned, his voice dropping lower. "You want everyone to know what a slut you are? Huh? You want them to hear?"

You moaned around him, loud and deliberate, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Fuck," he hissed. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You want them to know. You want everyone to know exactly what you are."

You pulled off again, a string of saliva connecting you to him. "Maybe," you whispered, your voice husky. "Maybe I want them to know who I really belong to."

He grabbed his phone unlocking it, his thumb swiping to the camera. He held it up, angling it so it captured you perfectly on your knees. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and your hair tangled in his fist.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

You obeyed instantly, your tongue darting out.

"Good girl." He smirked, pressing the record button. "Now show me what you do best."

You took him into your mouth, your eyes locked on the camera, a practiced, hungry look on your face. He let out a low groan, his free hand tightening in your hair.

"That's it," he breathed. "Look at you. So desperate for it. So hungry."

You moaned around him, your throat working as you took him deeper.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hips starting to thrust. "You love this, don't you? Love being on your knees for me."

You hummed in agreement, your hands gripping his thighs, pulling him closer.

"God, you're so good at this," he panted, the phone shaking slightly in his hand. "Look at you. Look at how well you take it."

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, and his head fell back with a broken moan.

The room was thick with heat, sounds of your ragged breathing and the slick, wet noises that filled the space between you. Jake had you positioned just how he wanted. On your knees, your lips stretched around him as he fucked your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice strained. "Eyes on me."

You obeyed, looking up at him through your lashes, tears streaking your cheeks, saliva dripping down your chin. The sight of you like this, all wrecked, desperate, utterly his made his head spin.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice tight. "You want it? Want me to-"

You nodded frantically, your eyes begging, and he let out a strangled cry as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed everything, your eyes never leaving his, and when you pulled off, you licked your lips clean.

He pulled you up onto the bed, pushing you onto your back. "Open up," he said, and you obeyed immediately, your mouth falling open. He stroked himself a few times, then painted your lips, your cheeks, your chin with thick ropes of white. He moved lower, aiming for your chest, letting it drip down onto your tits, watching it pool in the hollow of your collarbone.

"Fuck," he breathed, his chest heaving. "Look at you. Look at what you let me do to you."

You were a mess with his cum splattered across you, dripping down your neck, pooling on your skin. And you loved every second of it.

He reached for his phone. "Don't move," he said. "I need to remember this."

He snapped a few photos of your ruined face, messy chest, the way you looked up at him like he was the only person in the world. His thumb swiped through the gallery, admiring his work.

You watched him, your heart racing. "Who are you gonna send those to?"

Jake glanced at you, his brow furrowing. "Huh? No one. They're for me. I was just gonna keep them."

You sat up slowly, letting the sheets fall away from your body. You reached out, trailing a finger down his chest. "Really? Just for you?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, setting the phone down. "Why? You want me to-"

"Maybe." You bit your lip, looking up at him through those innocent eyes that he knew by now were anything but innocent. "I want everyone to know who I belong to. Wouldn't want them to think I still belong to Jeno."

Something dark flickered in Jake's eyes. "Such a whore. You want everyone to see you like this? Want the attention?"

"Maybe," you repeated, your voice dropping to something low and sultry. "I want everyone to know I'm yours. Not his. Not anyone else's."

He swallowed hard, his cock twitching at your words.

"You want me to send it to the group chat?" he asked, his voice rough. "The boys? Want them all to see what you look like when you're being Jake's good girl?"

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "Send it," you whispered. "Show them. I don't care. I just want them to know. I want everyone to know that I'm yours and only yours."

He pulled back, searching your face. "You're serious?"

"I've never been more serious about anything." You reached for his phone, pressing it into his hand.

He opened the group chat, the one with his six friends from the dinner. His thumb hovered over the screen.

"This is crazy," he muttered. "They are hornballs they're probably gonna-"

"Send it," you urged, your voice a low purr. "Don't you want them to see what you do to me? Don't you want them to know I'm yours?"

He selected the photos, your ruined face, messy chest, and desperate eyes. His thumb hit send.

"There," he said, tossing the phone aside. "Now they know exactly who you belong to."

You pulled him down into another kiss, your arms wrapping around him. "Good," you whispered against his lips. "Because I was always yours."

His phone started blowing up on the nightstand notifications piling up one after another. Jake reached for it, but you grabbed his hand, threading your fingers through his.

"Leave it," you murmured. "Focus on me."

He looked at you messy, ruined, beautiful and something possessive flared in his chest. He forgot about the phone, forgot about the boys, forgot about everything except the girl in front of him.

"Yeah," he breathed, leaning down to kiss your neck. "Yeah, okay. Just you."

The phone kept buzzing, but neither of you cared.

You positioned yourself on top of him, your hands resting gently on his chest. The weight of you settled against his thighs, and you could feel him beneath you, still hard and ready. But you didn't rush. You took your time, letting the moment stretch, letting him watch you.

"Hey," you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Look at me."

His eyes found yours, hazy and warm, full of something that made your chest ache. You kissed him again, slow and deep, your tongue sweeping against his in a lazy rhythm.

"I've got you," you murmured against his mouth. "Just relax."

You reached down between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance. The tip pressed against you, and you let out a soft breath, your forehead falling against his.

"Ready?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, princess. I'm ready."

You sank down onto him, inch by inch. Your mouth fell open, a quiet moan escaping your lips as he filled you. His hands came up to grip your hips, but he didn't push or pull. He just held on, his thumbs stroking gentle circles against your skin.

"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut. "You feel..."

"Good?" you finished, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Incredible," he corrected.

You stayed still for a moment, letting yourself adjust to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands cupped his face, tilting his head up so you could look into his eyes.

"You're so beautiful," you whispered, and you meant it. In this moment, with his lips parted and his hair sticking to him, he was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

He let out a shaky laugh. "You're the one who's beautiful."

You shook your head, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "No, it's you. It's always been you."

And then you started to move.

Slow at first, your hips rolling in a gentle, circular motion. You rose up and sank back down, letting him feel every inch of you. His hands slid to your waist supporting you.

"Jake," you breathed, and his name on your lips made his eyes flutter shut.

"I'm right here," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."

You kept your pace slow, unhurried, savoring every moment. Your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm, like you'd done this a thousand times before.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his neck, trailing soft kisses along his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. He turned his head, catching your lips in a sweet soft kiss.

"This is..." he started, but he couldn't finish.

"I know," you whispered against his lips. "I know."

You could feel the tension building in his body, the way his breath caught with every movement.

"Don't stop," he breathed. "Please love don't stop."

"I won't," you promised. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

You could feel yourself getting close, the warmth building low in your belly. Your movements became a little more urgent, a little more desperate, but still slow.

"Jake," you gasped. "I'm close."

"Me too," he managed. "Together. I want to feel you cum with me."

You nodded, your forehead pressed to his. "Okay. Together."

And then it hit you, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you. You cried out, his name a broken whisper on your lips. You felt him follow, felt his hips buck up into you as he came, a groan escaping his throat.

You collapsed against him, your bodies tangled together, both of you trembling and breathless. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Stay with me," he murmured into your hair. "Just stay here. Please."

You smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "I'm not going anywhere."

He tilted your chin up, catching your lips in a soft, tender kiss. Then another. And another. Each one softer than the last, each one saying everything words couldn't.

Then he laughed, a disbelieving, breathless sound.

"What?" you asked, propping yourself to look at him.

"I was so mad at you," he said, shaking his head. "And then you-" He gestured vaguely. "And now I barely even remember what I was mad about."

You smiled, innocent as ever. "That was the point."

He pulled you down, kissing you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips. "I know I shouldn't. I know you're probably gonna destroy me. But I love you."

You kissed him back, your fingers carding through his hair.

"I love you too," you whispered. "And I'm never going to hurt you, Jake. You're mine. And I take care of what's mine."

He believed you. Of course he believed you.

And that was exactly how you wanted it.

taglist: @soobinkissed @tidepod101 @ningxspa @kvonhos @ariloves-louis @ssouupp @lovesick-sylus

a/n: hello?... is this thing on lol?... i have to say... not my best update i admit 😓... have patience w me pls... ily all

❗ this is a work of mere fiction, the characters attitudes do not reflect at all the artist's personality here mentioned. © kazutteoks 2026

ᯓ★ ! taglist (1/3) ;

despite all, you couldn’t wait to get home and when you finally do, it feels like everything has fallen into place.

a soft “careful,” rolls off sunghoon’s tongue as he helps you settle on your couch. he puts a cushion behind you and puts your legs up on the couch before standing up— still awkward as always. “i’ll go get water,”

sunghoon has been attentive, looking out for all your needs and feelings. the way he cares of you makes you wonder if you are an open book, because whenever you look in front of you, he is always there with what you need without even you having to tell him.

just like now, as he returns with a glass of water and cookies that you like.

he’s not even sure if you should eating all that already— it’s barely been a few hours since you had gotten discharged. sunghoon only has one logic : if it makes you happy, he will get you that, like cookies, in this case.

you munch on the snack while watching him fuss over you, a gentle smile adoring your lips. he brings you blanket and peals oranges for you, all while keeping an eye on you from across the kitchen counter to make sure you aren’t in pain or discomfort.

when he returns with a bowl full of oranges and cherries, your lips automatically curl into the sweetest smile. “thank you,”

“just let me know if you need anything else,” and one thing you have realised is sunghoon is bad at things.

bad at taking compliments, bad at accepting your gratitude, bad at words. sunghoon is one thing and it’s all actions— like the way he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch ever so soft and cautious as if you are something precious. ( you are )

“do you want?” you ask, holding a cherry near his mouth, he looks so baffled like you just did some magic.

never in his a couple hundred years of life has sunghoon ever felt like this— happy, scared, shy, impatient and love— all at once.

he opens his mouth, lips brushing against your fingertips in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. his eyes never leave yours, so focused on you as the sweetness of cherry settles on his tongue, and then— his lips are on yours.

soft, a little cold and unmoving as if he doesn’t know what to do. when your hands abandon the fruit bowl to hold his face, sunghoon feels like this is okay, like he is doing something right.

his lips move against yours slow and sweet with a silver of hesitation— honestly, his mind is begging him to devour you right here, on your couch. if it weren’t for your condition, he’d have you pinned under him.

you pull back with a ghost of smile that disappears just as quickly as it formed. “we should stop,”

and at your words, his entire world comes to a halt.

stop? do you mean not kissing anymore?

“what? why?” he is panicking already, shifting a little closer to you, eyes frantically searching for any hint of discomfort. did hendo something wrong?

you tsk, trying to play it cool. “you keep kissing me but you haven’t even asked me out properly,”

oh.

right...asking you out. he completely forgot about that. frankly, he has been so lost thinking about wanting to kiss you, it completely slipped his mind to plan a proper confession.

he would’ve bought flowers and taken you out somewhere nice and romantic. not like he really cares about all that, but you do, and that’s enough for a reason for him to do it.

but now, he has nothing— no flowers or a romantic setting. just his racing heart and swety palms and a mind failing to come up with words when he needs them the most.

you’re looking at him so expectantly with those pretty eyes, he aches at the thought of ruining this for you.

“um,” he is hold his breath, literally. “be my, uh, girlfriend?”

it comes out so quiet and tender, barely above the silence in the room. his eyes search yours for a response, do you like it? did he do well? he waits for you to give him a sign before he might lose his mind.

but then you laugh— so heartful and melodic that he can’t tell if he is being insulted right now or not.

and the worst part is that you keep laughing, unable to hold back your smiles. he loves it, really, watching you being so happy is like finding a diamond mine. but right now, he needs you to say something and unlike you, he does not find this amusing. “very funny,”

the whole thing continues for a few more minutes— each one feeling like hell for him, by the way— before you finally stop and kiss the corner of his lips. “i’d love to be your girlfriend,”

despite his best efforts, he does end up smiling like a fool, reaching out to hold your hands— just slightly— then ending up intertwining his fingers with yours. “okay,”

who would believe he is a centuries old vampire is acting like a shy highschool guy with his crush?

sunghoon has been in relationships, good and bad, happy and sad, but none made him feel so alive. all his life, he has only heard one thing : stick with your people, never fall for a human but unfortunately— or fortunately enough— you happen to be just his type.

the sun sets behind the closed curtains jn your living room and your boyfriend lets go of one of your hands to check the time. and then the words leave your mouth on their own. “stay for the night?”

his brain short circuits, words failing him as he feels his face heat up. a tint if red settles on the tips of his ears and he scurries to the kitchen when he notices your empty glass of water. “focus on recovering first,”

and it takes you a few seconds to process his words before your cheeks heat up as well. “i was not thinking about that!”

“Hi!”

Jake threw the ball, which hit the nest then came back directly to his face. You gasped and rushed to his side where he had fallen to the floor. “Are you okay?”

He held his head and nodded, “It’s nothing.”

You giggled softly, grabbing his ball that was rolling away then placed it in front of him. “I didn’t mean to distract you. I was wondering since we’re both playing with the ball that maybe you’d want to play together? That way we can use the whole court.”

“You want to play with me?” He asked, his hand falling to his knee.

You nodded with a smile, the same one that first made Jake notice you.

“Kiddo, your mom’s making dinner!” Both you and Jake looked at the man waving you over, making you sigh in disappointment as you turned to the little boy in front of you. You held your hand out for him to take, which he took with a little hesitation. You pulled him up and smiled.

“I have to go. We can play next time. Bye!”

Without saying anything else, you waved at the boy and ran away to who Jake believed was your dad. His eyes widened when the man squinted his eyes, making him smile nervously and wave politely.

Unfortunately, after that interaction with the girl he believed was the love of his life, he never got to play basketball with you. Jake hid himself in his house for the rest of the year, he was scared of girls–he was scared of you. He had never met a girl, other than pre-school, he’s attended an all-boys school, making it obvious he didn’t know how to interact with girls other than his mom and aunts. So when you asked him to play and he embarrassed himself by hitting himself with the ball, he thought you’d make fun of him the next time you saw each other, which is why he decided never to come out of his room until he was eighteen.

Maybe he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t risk it. The worst part is that he didn’t even learn your name, or you his. But he learned that you lived just two blocks away from his house, so sometimes he would discreetly take a walk with his puppy or ride his scooter to search for your house and see if you were there. One time, he saw you selling lemonade just outside on your porch, so he forced his older brother to buy a few cups with his own hard-earned money. His brother found it cute. When he was buying the lemonade, Jake was hiding behind a tree, watching the interaction happily as you received the money from his brother and you handed him the two lemonades. The smile on your face lightened up his world. His heart felt lighter, and he couldn't help but to giggle on the way home in his scooter.

“Her name is Y/n.”

“You asked for her name?!” He raised his voice at his brother, embarrassed. “Hyung, you can’t just do that!”

His brother laughed, enjoying the little cup of lemonade as he watched his little brother’s ears redden.

WHEN JAKE first entered high school, he was excited because it was a mixed school, and even though you were neighbours, he was hoping you’d both attend the same high school. He was fourteen now, it had been three years since you first met, also three years he hid away to not embarrass himself again.

But of course, humiliation was basically Jake’s middle name.

It was during lunch break on the first day, a boy from his old school named Heeseung– who was a year older, had invited him to play basketball with two other boys he didn’t know, and of course he accepted. It was all going well, he had missed a couple shots but redeemed himself by shooting one from a large distance, earning a few cheers from the girls who were watching by the bench. But he didn’t care about them, his main focus was on the girl that was sitting under the tree, laughing with another girl.

“Watch out!”

Sunghoon had thrown the ball right in Jake’s face, and you had seen it all. The boy fell to the floor with a groan, making his new friends rush to him. While they were busy checking up on him, you watched as the ball rolled your way, you stopped your conversation with Lily–your new friend, and stood up, straightened your skirt, and picked up the ball that was just in front of your feet.

“I’ll be right back.”

Lily nodded, watching as you made your way to the silly boy who was trying to stand up. When he looked at you, his jaw dropped. You were even more beautiful up-close, the sun was on your face, making you look like a goddess–he couldn’t believe you were walking up to him.

Without saying a word, you stretched your arms out, the ball touching the boy’s chest. A smile appeared on your face when Jake’s hands shakingly grabbed the ball.

“T-thank you.”

You nodded, about to walk away when he opened his mouth again. “I’m Jake. We’re neighbours–kind of, I live at the end of the street. There’s like ten houses between us.” He rambled, making you giggle.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and nodded, “I know. My dad and I play basketball every Sunday morning, you should play with us sometimes, he’s a really good coach.” You suggested.

Jake couldn’t believe the angel in front of him was actually inviting him to play basketball with him, it was surreal. It was a dream.

“S-sure. That would be awesome!” He chuckled.

That same week, on Sunday morning, Jake had met up with you and your father. He was very awkward, played a little badly, but it was fun, because he was playing with you. Your father taught him a few tricks, and he tried using them against you, but you were two steps ahead of him, you found him cute.

You and Jake became very close after that Sunday. You would walk back home together after saying goodbye to your other friends. It was routine to walk home, you protected each other, and your parents–along with Jake’s, trusted you two to take care of each other and get back home safely. Some days, Jay would walk back home with you two, only parting ways after a couple of minutes. Some days you’d eat at Jake’s house and vice versa. Jake’s brother would tease him, but something about Jake is that he admired how you would defend him or do something to make him feel better. You were always there to make him happy, not once did he feel sad when you were there. You were special to him.

BY YOUR second year, you were inseparable. Jake had gotten the same exact schedule as you, and some of the classes he shared with Jay as well. So to say you were together 24/7 was an understatement. Seriously, he’d be following you like a lost puppy. You’d tell him, “You know you can go to your friends too, right? I don’t want you to feel like you need to be with me all the time.” And he’d respond with, “I want to be with you all the time.”

Jake was never one to hide his feelings for you, but you were a little oblivious.

No friend would do the things he did for you. He wouldn’t carry your backpack all the way home if it were Sunghoon. He wouldn’t give you his banana milk because he knew you loved banana milk if it were Heeseung. He wouldn’t cancel on his friend to help you study for physics if it were Jay. He wouldn’t do any of that stuff if it weren’t you.

“Look, it’s Sohn Youngjae.” You whispered.

A third year student who you had a huge crush on. Jake was definitely not jealous. “He looks like a Korean Peter Pevensie, don’t you think?” You turned to Jake, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.

He scrunched his face, poking the food. “The Narnia guy?” You nodded. “But he’s not blond.”

“Hmm, you’re right. He’s still kind of cute.” You shrugged.

Cute. You thought a boy was “cute”. You only ever called Jake that–and that Riki boy you babysat, how can you call a boy you’ve never talked to “cute”? Was it not a special compliment?

That summer, Jake decided to dye his hair blond. Terrible idea. His original intent was to look similar to Peter Pevensie, your fictional crush since you were a baby. That same character you said you’d pick over any boy. Jake wanted to change that, so he dyed his hair.

When he showed up at your doorstep, your jaw dropped.

“Your hair is blond.” You stated.

He gave you that tight-awkward smile, “Is it bad?”

You shook your head as you ran your fingers through his hair. Jake couldn’t help but to close his eyes, making you giggle. “You look like Layla!” He opened his eyes and frowned.

“What? No, don’t you think I look like the Narnia guy?” You giggled again, shaking your head. “Oh.”

“Did you dye your hair to look like him?” You asked. Jake hesitated, but ended up nodding, ashamed. “Why? I mean, it looks really good, but your natural hair is already pretty.”

He shrugged, “I just thought you’d like me better if I looked like him. He’s your fictional crush, after all. And you always say you’d choose him over anyone.” He rambled.

“Jake,” You covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, making him roll his eyes. “Dude, he’s a fictional character! He’s not real. And I’m obviously being dramatic when I say I’d choose him over anyone.” You explained with little laughs.

“So…you like me better than him?” He wondered.

You nodded. “I would pick you in a room full of Peter Pevensies.”

You crossed your fingers, making him break into a smile. “You’re so annoying.”

THERE WERE so many ways he wanted to confess to you. He had practiced, wrote so many letters, asked his cousins, his mom, and even Lily–your best friend, for some advice on how to tell a girl he likes her. But of course, Jake was good at everything but going along with a plan. His original plan was to ask you out just before Christmas, but he got nervous, too nervous, and decided maybe to wait for a bit. He wasn’t completely sure if you liked him back, but after having a talk with your best friend and asking his friends what they thought about you, he thought there was a possibility that maybe you did like him back.

“I’m not telling you anything, dude.”

“From Aussie to Aussie, you have to.”

Lily gasped, hitting the boy’s shoulder, making him groan in pain. “That’s not fair! We swore to only use that when it’s necessary.”

Jake rolled his eyes, moving his hands in the air. “This is important, I need to know that I’m not misunderstanding anything. If I tell her I like her and she doesn’t like me back, our friendship is ruined. If she does like me back, then maybe I can be her boyfriend. But I’m overthinking our interactions now. Do you think I’m being delusional and she doesn’t like me at all, yes or no?” He squinted his eyes at the girl.

There was once a time where he got a nintendo switch for his birthday and the first thing he did was run to your house to show you. You had gasped, excited for him. “That’s so cool!”

His smile was bigger than it was when he received the gift, because nothing made him more happy than seeing you smile.

“I know, right?” He giggled, handing it to her. “Here, they got me mario kart. Your favorite.”

You gasped and grabbed the switch, your fingers not knowing how to move. “I-I don’t know how to use this. I usually use controllers.” You nervously admitted.

Jake smiled calmly, “Here, let me show you.” He gently placed his fingers over yours, guiding them. “You have to press this one to move.” He moved your finger with his. “Yeah, like that.”

You were not paying attention to what he was saying, your eyes kept flickering to his as he kept explaining to you how to use the switch. When he finished, he looked at you and smiled, “D-did you get it?” He asked, suddenly stuttering when he realized you were looking at him.

“Not really.” You breathed out a laugh, making him smile, hands still over yours.

“It’s okay. You should come to my house so we can play. That way you can practice.” He suggested, making you smile and nod with excitement.

“You are delusional.”

His jaw dropped.

“But maybe there’s a tiny chance that she might like you back.” Jake pouted, blinking too many times. “Fine! I’m not telling you anything but I will tell you it will be a great idea to confess.”

“Because she likes me back?” His eyes lightened up.

“That’s all I’ll say.” She zipped her mouth and dramatically walked backwards.

Jake stood up and raised his arm, pretending to hit the air dramatically.

After that, he realized he either had everything to lose, or the opportunity to finally make his dream come true. Eleven year old Jake would be disappointed in seventeen year old Jake if he knew how long he was taking in confessing to his crush.

“You smell like Christmas.”

Now what is that compliment? Not even Jake knew, but somehow, you found it cute. “And you smell like expensive cologne.”

You were right, Jake did smell like expensive cologne. His uncle had given it to him as a gift and he poured it all over himself right before he sprinted to your house. He sniffed his own clothes and smiled awkwardly. “My uncle gave me a cologne for Christmas.” He shook his head, opening his jacket to reveal a small wrapped box. “Do you think we could walk for a little bit?”

You nodded, Jake watched as you looked back at your parents who gave you thumbs up. You grabbed your hung coat from the entry and stepped outside, slipping your shoes on. You and Jake walked for a minute, before he stopped in front of you and handed you the box he was waiting for a whole month to give to you.

“This is for you. It’s not much but it reminded me of you. Merry Christmas.” He said your name in a way you never heard.

You smiled shyly, grabbing the box. “Can I open it now?” He nodded, looking nervous.

He didn’t know how you’d react, you always gave him and your friends gifts, so maybe you wouldn’t be that amazed by his small gift. But when a small gasp escaped your lips as you opened the box, revealing a beautiful necklace with a shiny sun on it, Jake realized maybe you were just really grateful. You looked at Jake and immediately hugged him to which he froze on the spot, not reacting fast. You pulled away from the hug, a small shy chuckle coming out of your lips as you looked down at the gift.

“I-I know it’s not much—“

“—it’s perfect. Thank you, Jake.” 

He nodded, a sigh of relief escaping him. At least one of the many few things he wanted to do tonight was done. 

“The reason I-I chose this necklace was because you light up every room you walk into. You being present is enough to make me smile—I guess it’s not that significant for you but I just thought because it reminded me of you, I’d get it.” He rambled through his words, making you smile.

“It’s the best gift someone has ever given me.” You confessed, “Now I feel embarrassed about my gift.”

You looked down, kicking your feet. Jake’s eyes widened in surprise, “you got me something?” He asked.

Again, he knew how much you loved giving gifts, but he always felt so special for being one of those people that were there to receive.

You nodded, handing him the bag with a side smile. He quickly opened it with a smile, a gasp escaping him when he saw the several sour jellies, a bracelet you made, and a Lego box inside it.

The smile on his face couldn’t be explained.

“Y/n, you’re amazing! This gift is everything!”

With no hesitation, he threw himself on you, placing delicate touches with his lips all over your head before lifting your head up, his lips reaching for your cheeks. You froze and looked at him, making him freeze as well.

Jake, what the hell are you doing? He thought, gasping as he realized what he had done.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He mumbled.

You stared at him, your eyes then flickering down to his mouth for a quick second. When he noticed that, he did the same. “I wanted to do this more formally but, c-can I be your boyfriend?” He asked.

That was not part of the plan, at least not how he wanted it to be.

Your lips parted open, a breath of relief escaping them. “That’s so random.”

Jake tilted his head to the side, “I’m not sure how to take that.” His lips moved, an inch close to your lips.

“It’s a yes. You can also kiss me, Jake.”

“Thank God.”

Jake closed the space between your lips, slowly and with no intent of leaving, moving his lips in synchronization with yours. He smiled into the kiss, making you pull away, giggling when you saw Jake’s reddened ears.

“Are you blushing?”

He shook his head. “Maybe. Can’t a boy blush because of his girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. You were Jake’s girlfriend. His girlfriend.

You chuckled, eyes squinted as your smile took over your face.

“Let me put the necklace on you, you silly goose.”

“You did not just call me that!”

“OKAY SAY, cheese!”

Even though Jake was going to the same university as his girlfriend and his friends, he couldn’t help but to leave a little bit sad. High school was the place where your relationship first started, where many of your “firsts” happened, and he was sad to leave it all behind.

“Jakey, get in the picture!”

Your dad waved him over, making him look at his own parents before rushing to your side. Your dad wrapped an arm around Jake’s shoulder, whereas he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him with the biggest smile on his face.

“Cheese!”

Instead of looking at the camera, for most of the pictures, Jake was looking at you.

“Okay, now take one with your friends, sweetie.” Your dad grabbed the camera as he gestured to you to get your friends.

You turned to Jake and shrugged. “We should get Lily and the boys.” He nodded, not wasting a second before he rushed to look for them.

You giggled, turning to your family. A second later, the group approached your dad with the proudest smiles on their faces.

“Mr. L/n, are you proud of me for graduating?” Sunghoon asked, flexing his muscles and showing off his graduated certificate.

“Of course, Sunghoon. I’m proud of all of you, especially Lily.” He pointed at the Australian girl, who flipped her hair dramatically on Sunghoon’s face, making him roll his eyes. “Okay, now get into a group hug. For the memories!”

You stood in the middle with Jake and Lily by your sides, then Sunghoon stood by Lily’s side and Jay by Jake’s. You all hugged each other tightly, not even bothering looking at the camera as you smiled happily at each other. Click. Your dad snapped the picture, a proud smile on his face. “Okay, funny faces now!”

Everyone stuck their tongues out and made peace signs, but all Jake could do was turn to you and laugh when he saw your face. Click.

“Okay, now the long-distance best friends!”

Lily and you pouted as you pushed the boys off and hugged each other tightly, making them laugh. “I’m going to miss you, Aussie baby girl!” You sobbed.

“And I’m going to miss you, my kawaii baby Pucca!” 

Your dad laughed even harder at the nicknames as he snapped the pictures. 

“Okay, now the boys!”

Sunghoon pushed both of you out of the way and was quick to flex his muscles, making Jake and Jay copy him. Their parents rolled their eyes, and more specifically, you and Lily did the same, only laughter coming out of your mouths.

“And….now the lovely couple!”

You snapped your head to your dad, to which Jake smiled widely as he pulled you into a very respectful hug. Click. You leaned away when he tried kissing your cheek, cheeks warming up as you tried pushing him away. Click. Click. Click.

“Let the boy kiss you!” Your dad teased.

“Stop, dad!” You cringed.

Jake really couldn’t be happier.

❌ MDNI ❌

JAKE WAS knew loving someone would be this easy. Maybe it was just you that was easy to love. You were just there, existing, and Jake wanted to do whatever it took to keep you here with him. It had been almost three years since you first started dating, and he couldn’t be happier.

“Don’t open your eyes yet.”

You were giggling, blindfold still on, as you waited for Jake to guide you to wherever he was taking you. “Hurry up!”

He giggled, placing his hands on your waist, footsteps matching yours as he stepped into his bedroom. Without saying anything, he pulled the blindfold off, “Ta-da! Happy birthday, pretty!”

You opened your eyes and gasped, turning just an inch to see Jake with the biggest smile on his face. The room was filled with a bouquet of your favorite flower, a big stack of books, and the lego you had said you wanted just a few months prior. You gave him the tightest hug, arms wrapped around his shoulders where his rested all the way around your waist.

“Jake, this is so beautiful.” You sobbed into his neck. “Thank you so much.”

He pulled away just enough to see your face and frowned, “Are you crying?”

You shook your head ‘no’, but the tears forming in your eyes said otherwise. Jake chuckled, grabbing your cheeks to plant kisses all over your face. “Don’t cry, beautiful.”

You closed your eyes as he kept leaving kisses, making you sob harder. He let out a small sob too, feeling sad for you, he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby. You’re going to make me cry.” He tried to joke, making you giggle on his chest.

You pulled away, his arms still wrapped around you, your hands moved to his cheeks as you leaned in to give him a long-lasting kiss on his lips. He melted under your touch, making you smile when you pulled away, caressing his face.

“I love you so so much.” You placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth before rushing to the bed to see your gifts.

Jake stood there for a second with a smile on his face, just watching you go through the stack of books. “I went through your bookshelf so I wouldn’t get you a duplicate.” He mentioned.

You held one of the books to your heart and gasped, “Ugh, the effort!”

He rolled his eyes and jumped on the bed right next to you, pulling you into a hug. He started leaving soft kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbone, making you giggle as you put the book down and turned to face him, “I want to tell you something really important.”

He pressed his lips on your shoulder, eyes set on you. “What is it?” He said in between kisses.

“I…I think I’m ready.” You confessed, making him sit up in confusion.

“For?”

“To have sex.” 

His eyes widened, “A-are you sure?” He stuttered. “We don’t have to rush things. I-I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured or anything–”

“I know! I’ve just been thinking. There’s no one else I’d want to do this with, I want you to be my first time.” You smiled shyly, fidgeting with the rolled up blanket beneath you.

Jake nodded, licking his lips as a small chuckle escaped him. “I want you to be my first time too. B-but what if you don’t like it? I’m not experienced, or anything.” He said, ashamed. “What if you get the ick?”

You snorted, “You’re weird already, there’s nothing you can do that’ll get me the ick. Besides, they say first times are always awkward, but…I trust you, and it doesn’t have to be perfect, you know?” You reassured, then noticed the look on your boyfriend’s face. He looked…nervous, really nervous. “Unless you don’t want to do anything yet, I completely understand. I just wanted to tell you that I'm ready, so someday we can–”

Jake didn’t know what got into him that night, but before you could even finish the sentence, his lips were on yours, and hands were everywhere. This kiss was something else, hungrier, passionate. He kissed you like he wanted you to know this part was what was best. He devoured you, and you let him.

Jake knew about sex, of course he did. He was a nineteen year old boy who had just finished his sophomore year of college. He was the only one in his friend group that was in a relationship, so it was only a matter of time when they would ask him when he and you would have sex. But he never said anything, it wasn’t a topic of conversation he wanted to have with people. But of course he was curious, how couldn’t he? He would listen to his friends talk and talk about their hook up experiences. But he had that with you, and he couldn’t ask for more. Hell, his friends–college friends, always talked about how good sex was. But Jake wasn’t that type of person. He was the person that was willing to wait, sure, he’s had his dreams where stuff happens and he wakes up with the hardest morning wood, but he was willing to wait for you. Because there was nothing more precious than to have your first time with the person he treasured and loved the most.

But yeah, he couldn’t help but to jump right to it when you brought the topic up.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed out between kisses. A small whimper escaped from your lips, making Jake get more excited. He pulled you closer to him, moving the gifts just to the edge of the bed, not caring if they fell to the floor. With both arms, he positioned you on top of him, legs bracketing his lap.

Jake’s hands wandered around your body, under your top. You’ve had multiple make out sessions before, it wasn’t like you never did anything. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew his favorite parts, and he knew yours too.

With one hand, Jake grabbed the back of your neck to pull down to his lips, and with the other, he lifted your top just enough so his cold fingers touched your bare skin. When you gasped with his touch and your lips parted, he used it as an opportunity to enter with his tongue, exploring your mouth like he always did.

“Tel me if I’m being too rough.” He whispered, pulling away to look at you. “Tell me if you want to slow down.”

Out of breath, he swallowed nervously, eyes flickering down to your red-plumped lips, to give them one more rough kiss, not giving you time to breath. You whimpered into the kiss, making Jake’s hips twitch beneath you.

Your fingers ran through his hair. Make out sessions always ended right there, with you on top of him then falling on his chest. But this time, instead of pulling away, Jake sat and backed up until his back met the bed frame. His fingers moved carefully to the end of your top and looked up at you so innocently.

“Can I take this off?” He asked gently.

Your lips parted, finding a way to answer but you simply nodded, lifting your arms to help him. He raised the top over your shoulder and his hands were immediately on you. He took a second to breathe, to watch how your chest moved. And he couldn’t help but admire you.

Sure, he had seen you in a bikini plenty of times, but it was nothing like this. You were in a private setting, and you had just told him you wanted him to be your first time.

“You’re gorgeous.” He looked up at you, making you smile shyly, suddenly too self-aware that you were getting naked.

“Don’t say stuff like that.” You could feel your cheeks warming up. 

His fingers moved to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, your very messy hair, then he smiled. “It’s the truth.”

You leaned down to kiss him again, hands grabbing his face. Jake’s hands moved to your upper body to push your chest against his clothed one, feeling the warmth.

His lips suddenly found your neck, making you gasp at the way he started sucking on it. “Does it feel good? Tell me.” He kissed his way down to your collarbone.

“Yes, it feels really good.” You stuttered.

Jake smiled against your neck, kissing his way up to your lips before pulling away to take his fitted-shirt off. Your hands wasted no seconds to hover over his chest, making him chuckle when he pulled you closer again.

Out of nowhere, he switched positions, you under him, legs still wrapped around him as his body pressed heavy on yours. 

“Are you still sure?” You nodded, he kissed your shoulder. “I need words, baby. You gotta communicate.”

You opened your mouth, watching as his hands moved down to the waistband of your pants. “I’m still sure, Jake.” He smiled, and God that smile made you feel so many things. 

He pulled your pants down, underwear still on. And again, he couldn’t help but to take a second to admire how you looked; hair was everywhere, lips were plumped, juicy and bright red from all the kissing, chest was heaving, and your body…you were perfect.

When you noticed his eyes hovering everywhere, you couldn’t help but to move your arms to cover yourself, but Jake quickly pulled them away.

“Don’t. You’re beautiful like this.” He leaned closed to press his lips to your jaw, then down to your neck, making you melt under his lips. “You’re so perfect, and you’re my girlfriend. My perfect girlfriend.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled nervously.

He looked up at you and chuckled, “too much?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said before pressing his lips against yours in one sweet kiss.

It didn’t take him long to discard his pants, leaving him in his boxers. You didn’t know what he looked like, he didn’t know what you looked like under all these clothes. But he didn’t care, because it was you, and everything about you was already perfect in his eyes.

“Jake?” You suddenly called, making him stop kissing his way down to your chest.

“Yeah?”

“W-we don’t have a condom.” You whispered, as if there were other people in the room.

Jake awkwardly scratched the back of his head and smiled, “yeah, I might have a few.” You furrowed your eyebrows, making him quickly stand up and rush to his bathroom, stumbling on the way back with a box of what looked like condoms. “My mom gave me these just in case.”

“Your mom?” You repeated.

He nodded.

“That’s so embarrassing.” You covered your face.

Jake dropped the box of condoms on the bed and rushed to you, taking your hands in his to kiss your face. “I thought so too at first, but it's for protection. She cares about you.” He kissed your nose.

You opened your eyes and looked at him with a small smile.

“We don’t have to do this tonight.” He whispered again, “we can always just watch tangled.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

You shook your head, pulling him closer. “I want this. A hundred percent.” You reassured him.

He licked his lips, eyes flickering down to his lips before nodding. He grabbed the box of condoms, opened it, and tore open one of the packs, but before he pulled down his boxers, he looked at you and smiled awkwardly.

“Woah, okay. This is real life.” He mumbled under his breath as finally he pulled his boxers down just enough to reveal his length. Your eyes widened, rested on your elbows as you watched him roll the condom on his cock.

“Uhm, is—is that going to…fit?” You wondered, suddenly scared.

Jake looked up and nodded, ignoring how his cock was basically staring at you. Whatever the definition of big is, it was Jake’s cock, and you couldn’t help but to want to close your legs in fear that you were going to break or something. Shut up, you want this. You shook your head and smiled.

“A-are you okay? Second thoughts?” Jake asked, knees resting on the bed as he grabbed your hand for comfort. “It’s not that big.” He tried to console you.

It really wasn’t. You just have never seen a dick before.

You finally looked up at Jake and nodded, swallowing nervously. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Jake silently cheered, a mix of emotions going through him as he touched your hips gently to pull you closer to him. “It’s going to sting a little bit at first. Are you sure you want this?” He asked again, fingers moving to the waistband of your underwear.

You nodded, “I trust you.”

He pulled your underwear all the way down then quickly settled between your legs, making you bite your lip. He pushed your legs apart, and Jake couldn’t help but to take a small look at your folds. He had never seen you like this, and he loved it. His fingers slid down your wetness, making you arch off the bed, a small gasp leaving your mouth. Jake watched as you closed your eyes, his cock pulsing just by it.

“I’ll be gentle. I promise.” He guided his tip to your entrance, you opened your eyes and nodded. Jake hovered over you, closing the distance between your bodies, pressing his bare chest on yours. His lips found yours for a second, to calm you, to prepare you. And when the tip finally entered you, both of your breaths hitched, he pressed his lips against yours.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly.

You didn’t move, mumbling a small “yes”. He sighed and trembled above you as he continued entering you, your lips parted open, hands flew to his arm for support. “It hurts a little bit.” You stuttered.

Jake nodded, “I’ll go slow. It’s okay.”

He kissed you passionately, making you melt under his touch, only then realizing he entered you completely. He let out a gasp, making you clench around him. “F-fuck that feels good.” He shuttered over your lips, not moving. “Are you okay? Try to relax.”

“I think so.” You smiled nervously.

“Do you want me to move?”

You nodded, making him sigh in relief. He started rocking his hips, looking down to where your bodies were connecting and parted his lips open. You bit your lip, it was hurting a little, but the pleasure was bigger than the pain. You felt full, and felt tense, but somehow Jake was helping you get through it.

He looked back at you, hips moving as he leaned down to connect your lips with his. It was a messy kiss, but it was perfect. His tongue entered your mouth, savoring all of it. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder whereas your legs wrap around his waist, giving him more access to your body. You gasp at the sudden change of position, moaning into Jake’s mouth. He opened his mouth, pressing his cheek with yours as he breathed heavily.

“This feels so good—so perfect.” He gasped, the pace becoming faster and rougher than it was at first. No words came out of you, just moans and gasps for air. “Tell me how you feel? Is it good? Where do you want me?” He asked between grunts.

You shook your head, “this is perfect. You’re perfect. I love you, Jake.”

He groaned when he heard his name roll out of your tongue, making him rock his hips harder into you. “I can’t believe you’re mine. I love you so much, Y/n. You’re so perfect. And you’re my girl, and I love you.” He whispered, out of breath, close to his release.

You held him tighter, feeling too much too fast. You tensed up, gasped for air. “J-Jake, I-I think—I think I’m close.”

Jake shut his eyes, holding you tighter to help you. “Does it feel good?”

“It feels weird.” You gasped.

“It’s okay. I’m also close, we can come together. Just relax. It’s just me.” You nodded, taking his face in your hand to hold him close to your face. You watch as his expression changed, furrowed eyebrows as if he were in thought, making you pull him close so your lips hovered over his. When he opened his eyes to look at you, you shut yours tightly as the orgasm came over. Your legs trembled around his waist, pussy clenched around his cock, and Jake was the happiest man alive. He came just a few seconds after hearing your moans and seeing your expression change, then collapsed right next to you.

For a moment, Jake simply took the cover out and pulled it over your body then lied next to you in silence. The only noise being both of your heavy breathing. When you didn’t say anything, Jake turned to you, his arm touching your stomach.

“Did I hurt you?” 

You looked at him and smiled shyly, shaking your head. “It was amazing, Jake.”

His eyes lightened up, a smile spreading on his face. “Really?” You nodded, making him sigh in relief. “Thank God, I really enjoyed it. Really. It was perfect. And you looked so pretty, I felt like I was dreaming.” He rambled.

You giggled, facing him completely. “I mean, it hurt at first but—that’s how first times are supposed to be most of the time. And I think I had an orgasm, which is also good.” You said, making Jake’s eyes widened.

“About that,” he looked down at himself then laughed awkwardly. “I should probably throw this away and get you cleaned up. Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” He gave you a peck on the lips before standing up.

He rushed to the bathroom with no explanation, and you figured it was the condom he was referring to, so you just lied there with a giant smile on your face as you waited for your boyfriend to come back. When he did, he had a cloth in hand and a glass of water.

He placed the glass of water on the night stand and sat beside you, “let me clean you.” With hesitation, you let him.

Sure, you were still a little shy even though you just lost your virginity, but Jake was someone you trusted.

After he cleaned you up, he grabbed your underwear and gave it to you casually before hopping on the bed and wrapping his arms around you after you put your underwear on. He pulled the covers over the two and rested his head in between your neck and shoulder.

“Thanks for trusting me, Y/n.” He whispered, giving you a lingering kiss on your shoulder. You smiled shyly, feeling the warmth of his chest on your back.

That night was when your relationship became more intimate. On your twentieth birthday, in the middle of summer classes, Sim Jaeyun had his first time with the girl of his dreams. The love of his life. And he seriously couldn’t be happier.

Layla’s owner  will I get kicked out of ENU if I climb up to your dorm?

you  Jake wth

Layla’s owner  Let your hair down Rapunzel!

Jake couldn’t hold in his laughter when he saw you open the window and look down with a shocked expression. “I have flowers!” He whispered-shouted, waving them in the air.

You closed your window and Jake swore he could hear ruffling all the way down. A few minutes later, you came out with your—ironically—rapunzel pajamas.

“Here ya go, my pretty princess.”

You smiled shyly as you grabbed the flowers from his hands and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “What’s the occasion?”

“Nine years ago today, I humiliated myself in front of the prettiest girl in the universe by hitting myself with a basketball.” He smiled proudly, “then that pretty girl helped me get up and didn’t make fun of me. That same day, I realized I was in love with the pretty girl who was way better than me at basketball.”

You bursted into laughter, covering your face with the flowers. “That’s so cute, Jake!” You hit his arm, all of a sudden shy. “How can you remember that?”

“Love can do such thing, gorgeous.”

You rolled your eyes and threw your arms around his shoulders, making him huff. “You’re so cute.”

“I get that a lot from a very specific person.”

“Hmm,” you hummed as you moved your arms to his waist and looked slightly up to meet with his eyes. “I wonder who it is…”

He moved his lips teasingly, leaning down to press his lips with yours in a delicate kiss. You smiled into the kiss, and he smiled as well, making you pull away and just kiss his cheek.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here just to give flowers for that.” You said, making him gasp.

“Hey, it’s a very special date for me! It’s when I realized I liked girls!” You furrowed your eyebrows, “that sounded weird.”

“It did.” You both laughed

All of the sudden, a flashlight flickered in your direction, making you both look to your right and see one of the guards walking up to you with an angered look.

“What are you two doing out here this late?” The old man asked.

Jake quickly raised his arms in surrender. “Sir, I swear in my life, I’m not harassing this young girl!” He crossed his finger and held it in the air. “Scout’s honor!”

You snorted and hit his arm, “Dude! Sir,” you turned to the guard and smiled shyly. “Sorry, he’s my boyfriend. He just came to drop some flowers.” You explained politely.

“At 10PM?” He raised his eyebrows.

You pursed your lips into a thin line and nodded, “I know. But he was just leaving!”

“I was?” Jake wondered.

You rolled your eyes and pushed him off, “bye!”

He pouted dramatically, blowing a bunch of kisses in the air as he jogged backwards, looking incredibly silly. When disappeared, you turned to the guard and smiled, “He’s weird, I know.”

“You kids these days.” He shook his head as he walked away, making you laugh it off and walk back up to your dorm.

JAKE ALWAYS believed you lived in a happy household. For the longest time he thought that, because seeing you and your dad smiling all the time, it made it seem that it was all good.

When you told him about your mother cheating on your father, he noticed how badly it affected you. He knew your father was the person you looked up to the most, so seeing him hurting, hurt you, and seeing you hurting, hurt Jake. He didn’t know what it was like to have divorced parents, all his friends’ parents were still together, so he wasn’t exactly sure how to take care of you. But he was there, because you once said his presence was already enough.

“I just don’t understand why she would do something like that.” You shook your head in disbelief, head lying on Jake’s chest.

You had gotten back from Chuseok weekend with your family. Jake was supposed to go as well, but he had work so he had to skip dinner with his parents. Now, instead of arriving straight to your dorm, Jake picked you up from the train station and brought you to his apartment.

He never thought he was good at comforting people. He was always the type of person who would awkwardly pat someone’s back after spilling the most devastating news. But with you, just by holding you, you felt comfort.

“Like why couldn’t she just divorce him?” You wondered out loud. “Cheating is so dumb. You can just break up with your partner, free yourself from whatever. Why cheat? What fun is there in betraying the person you’re supposedly in love with?” You looked up at the ceiling.

Jake agreed with you. He obviously did.

“It’s an ego thing, babe.” He said lazily.

You nodded, “right? I guess it makes sense for my mom. She’s always been like that. But why my dad? He’s so nice! He’s the nicest man ever, how can you break his heart like that? I’m sure he would’ve been okay with her divorcing him in the first place—sure, he’d be heartbroken, but he would’ve understood.” You rambled, “and the worst part is that my mom thinks she has some control over me, telling me to stay out of it. How can I? She was screaming at my dad when the angry one was supposed to be him. She’s got nothing to be angry about. It’s so annoying.” You covered your face in desperation.

Jake grabbed your hands and held them close to his lips. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know but,” you paused, exhaling loudly. “I feel bad for my dad.”

He smiled down at you, kissing your hands. “I’m sure he knows that. But he wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself over something like that, especially if it’s because of him. You know your dad.” He comforted you.

You bit your bottom lip and groaned, turning away from him and hugging one of his legs. “Can we just watch Tangled?”

Jake smiled even though you couldn’t see him. “Of course we can.”

JAKE LIKED being taken care of, especially by his girlfriend. Especially when he’s drunk.

It wasn’t a normal thing for him to get this hammered, really, he didn’t even drink like that. But when the semester was over and his final grade got rounded to a ninety-five, he just had to celebrate. Of course, celebrations like that always ended with you taking him to his apartment and him mumbling incoherent things about you.

“Seriously, you’re like the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.” He spilled his words as he tipsily walked over to his room with you helping him. “You’re the only girlfriend I've ever had, and I’m okay with that. People always say having a lot of girlfriends is cool but I don’t think that. I’ve only ever been in love once, and I still am. Her name is L/n Y/n. I remember when I first met her.”

You smiled subconsciously, already knowing where this was going. There had been a few times where he would drunkenly tell you—as if you were a stranger, about the love of his life—you. You never got tired of hearing about it.

“Like, she’s just so smart and hilarious—oh gosh, she’s the funniest girl ever. She always makes me laugh, and then—“ he chuckles as he drops to his bed. “Woah, this bed is comfy. Hey, can you get my girlfriend? I really want to sleep next to her.” The room was dark, not bothering to turn the lights off, you started taking his shoes off, making Jake’s eyes widen. “Woah, hey lady! I have a girlfriend!”

“I’m just taking your shoes off.” You snorted, not helping it.

Jake lifted his heavy head and gasped. “Y/n? How long have you been here, baby? I missed you.” He pouted.

“You’re so cute, Jake.” You grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them dramatically.

He smiled shyly, turning his face away from you. “My girlfriend thinks I’m cute.” He muttered under his breath as you walked away to put his shoes in the closet.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sobbed into his pillow without you noticing. “Like seriously, I’m such a failure without you by my side. Without you, I’d be known as the basketball-magnet.” 

You snorted as you walked over to the other side of the bed. You gently hopped on the bed, pulled the cover above you both, and turned to Jake. “Get some sleep, pretty boy.”

“Yo quiero a Maluma.” He mumbled, back facing you as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Yo amo a Y/n so mucho.”

You laughed quietly, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

THE SECOND semester of Junior year was definitely hitting Jake harder. He had signed up for more classes so he would have a lighter senior year and wasn’t as stressed as he was today. He was really trying. He didn’t like seeing you so bummed out because of his cancellation of plans or postponements. He wished there was something he could do to make it up to you, but he was just too stressed.

“Did you see the trailer for Sinners? It looks cool.” You said, looking down at your phone. “We should watch it when it comes out. Michael B Jordan’s in it.” 

“Uh, yeah totally.” He responded blandly.

You looked up from your phone and saw Jake completely concentrated on his textbook. “What are you doing?” You asked curiously.

“I,” he paused, flipping the pages to his textbook then typing on his laptop. “Am finishing a project that is due this weekend. I told my team I’d have it done by today, just need to re-check some stuff.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You’re doing the work all by yourself?” He glanced at you and nodded. “You’re already handling like eight classes. You’re being too hard on yourself, you know?” You scooted closer to the edge of the bed.

“It’s fine. I’d rather do the work by myself if it means it’ll be correct.” He shrugged casually.

You nodded, “if there’s anything else I can help you with…any math homework? English?”

At that, he looked at you and smiled, a smile that could only mean he was relieved. “I forgot you’re good at English. Yes, you can help me with English. I haven’t finished this assignment that’s due tomorrow.” 

You bent down to grab his backpack and took his English notebook out and with a smile, you winked. “One English assignment on the way.”

Jake quickly pulled you in for a kiss. “You’re the best.”

You scrunched your face and continued his assignment in silence, feeling happy that there was something you could help him with. 

Another thing Jake loved about you, is that you understood him. You put in as much effort as he did, and that’s how you balanced each other out. That’s one of the many reasons why he loved you.

“HEY, JAKE.”

Jake looked up from his seat, putting the last of his stuff on his back pack. “Hey, Nari. What’s up?”

She smiled when he called her name, “my birthday is this Friday, I was wondering if you wanted to come to this small get-together as a celebration. It’s just a few friends.” She insisted.

Jake frowned. He wasn’t that close to her. At least not close enough to be invited to a birthday party. He had been partnered up with her a couple of times in this course. So he had gotten to know her a bit. If he said no, he’d feel bad.

“Oh, sure. Is it okay if I bring my girlfriend? I’m not exactly close to any of your friends and I wouldn’t want to take much of your time.” He asked.

Whenever Jake got invited to something, his first thought was if he could bring you. Not because he thought you’d get jealous—never that, but because he would rather have you by his side in public events.

“Oh, sorry. There’s a limited number of people that can go and inviting someone else would go over the limit. I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t mind.” Nari tilted her head, twirling her hair in her finger.

Jake frowned but nodded still. “That’s okay. I’ll be there. Happy birthday in advance, anyway.” He smiled at the girl, ready to walk away when she stopped him.

“Oh, are you going to the cafeteria?” She asked, walking beside him.

He shook his head. “Well, technically yes. But I’m going to go look for Y/n—my girlfriend, so we can eat together.”

“That’s so cute.” She giggled, making him frown.

Cute. Only you called him that, it felt weird hearing the word come out of another girl’s mouth.

“I’m going that way too, mind if I join you for now?”

He nodded, not seeing anything wrong with it.

Right when they walked out of the building, Nari stepped on the wrong foot, making her stumble and grab onto Jake’s arm for support. Jake, like the kind person he is, let her hold on to him until she was balanced.

“Are you okay?”

She giggled and nodded, fixing her hair. “I’m so sorry, I'm so clumsy.”

“It’s okay. They messed up the steps there.” He looked back just for a second before looking ahead, not noticing how Nari was still holding him.

“Hi!”

Jake recognized that voice immediately. He turned around and saw you, and it was weird how he wanted to smile at you and show you every tooth, but he ended up nodding.

“Hey.”

Beside him, Nari let go of Jake’s arm and ignored you, giving you a small sour smile, making you smile fade away.

You asked Jake if he was okay, to which he nodded and leaned down to kiss you. You turned to the girl beside him and smiled, “I’m Y/n. Jake’s girlfriend.”

“Obviously I know that.” She scoffed before she turned to Jake. “I’ll see you later?” She dragged her hand on his arm, making you frown.

Jake nodded, making you look between them as you watched him watch her walk away. 

“Oh, you’re going out?”

Like something snapped in him, he nodded. “Uh, yeah. It’s a group thing. Last-minute invite to Nari’s birthday party.”

“Nari.” You repeated her name. “Yeah, that’s cool. I can study by myself.”

He gave you a small smile then threw his arm over your shoulder.

“I DON'T know, man. It was weird.” Jake shook his head as he threw the basketball on the hoop, making it. “It’s like one second I was there, and then the other one I wasn’t.”

Heeseung furrowed his eyebrows, catching the ball. “Who have you been hanging out with? I’ve heard some creepy stuff about witches around campus.” He commented.

Jake let the ball bounce on the floor. “What?”

“Yeah, like,” he paused, turning to him. “Last semester. You know Sakura? Some girl cursed her boyfriend or whatever. Creepy shit. He called her all types of names.” He shook his head as he grabbed the ball from the floor. “I was there when it happened. What’s her name? Naomi? Nari?”

“Shit. I have a girl named Nari in my class. I went to her birthday party yesterday.” He froze.

Heeseung kissed his teeth, “yeah, bro. You’re cooked. There’s like a rumor she’s done this since high school, and that she goes for the lover boys or whatever.” He snorted, “damn, you might be the perfect target.”

“Shut up. Don’t say that.”

“Maybe she’s got you under her spell already.”

He continually shivered, and gasped out loud when his phone buzzed. When he unlocked it, it was a message from the devil herself. Kim Nari Econ. “Dude, she just sent me a text.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened as he rushed to his side and snatched the phone. “”Can we meet up? I have something important to show you.” You’re not like– going right? Bro, she just sent a creepy ass location. I’m coming with.” He shook his head.

“You’re not. It’s not a creepy location.”

“It’s literally in the middle of nowhere.”

Jake tilted his head to the side. “It’s on campus!”

“Exactly.” 

He shook his head in disbelief, “I’ll just go see her, it’s probably nothing. And if she says she’s in love with me or something…I’ll just reject her respectfully and tell Y/n about it. How it should be.” He said casually, making Heeseung sigh.

“I wish I could be more like you, bro. You inspire me.”

Jake snorted, throwing the ball back to him for a last time before dabbing him up and leaving the court. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Praying for you already.” He crossed his heart.

“GIVE IT to her since you want her so badly you accuse me of things you know I’d never—in my life—do to you.”

Jake swore he would never hurt you. Hell, you even told him not to make that promise because you already knew he would never do that, because he would hurt more. But why did he feel so empty and not at all sad when he saw you walk away from him?

It was all a blur. But he wasn’t crying. It’s like he didn’t care. Sim Jaeyun didn’t care that he hurt you. What type of witchcraft is that? What happened to the Jake that would rather hurt himself than hurt you?

His friends asked themselves that for the longest time after you two broke up and you left for New York. Even when they told him you left he didn’t care.

“Why do you keep bringing her up when she’s his past? She broke up with him.” 

Jake wasn’t even part of the conversation. It was just Nari versus the group of boys in front of her.

“Like you don’t know the reason why, Nari.” Riki spat, “besides, no one brought her name up, it’s not my fault you’re so obsessed you know when we’re talking about her.” He rolled his eyes.

“Because you’re always mentioning her. “Noona this”, “noona that”. God, Riki, she’s not even your sister.” She scoffed, holding on to Jake’s arm.

Riki held his breath, calming himself down. “You’re so lucky I don’t beat up women.” He muttered under his breath, making Sunoo and Jungwon cover their mouths in pure shock.

“What did you just say?” Nari raised her voice.

“Do you really want me to repeat myself?”

Before Riki could make another move, Jay came in with a plate of popcorn and snacks, snapping Jake back to reality. “Here, here. Nari, are you sure you want to be here? It’s about to be chaos.”

“I’m sure. Jakey wants me here.”

“I doubt it.” Riki snorted, bumping shoulders with Sunoo who just looked away.

“It’s just, well—it gets a little crazy in her when we play. And you’re the only girl….” Heeseung decided to speak up, hands already moving to grab the best controller.

“You’re seriously kicking me out?”

He glanced at her and shrugged. “Uh, if that’s how you see it.”

She turned to Jake, who was simply grabbing popcorn and breathing really loudly. “Are you letting your friend talk to me like that?” She pouted, making the guys look at them in disgust.

He scratched his eyebrow and sighed. “Uh, actually I think I might just go back to bed. I have an interview early in the morning.” He unhooked his arm from Nari and ran his fingers through his hair. “Hey, am I going crazy or is there something important going on tomorrow? I’ve been trying to think of what it is but nothing comes up. It’s like my mind went blank.”

Everyone looked at each other then turned to Nari who shrugged. “It’s probably nothing important, Jakey.”

Riki held back a gag, motioning them to move. “Just leave. Seriously.”

Both Jake and Nari stood up, dragging him to the exit without saying goodbye to the others. When they disappeared, Sunoo shook his head.

“Something’s seriously wrong with that woman.”

Riki hit his chest. “Dude, there’s no way he could just forget Y/n noona’s birthday like that. And he’s been acting so bitchy lately. Like he’s brain dead or something."

Jay sighed, taking a seat next to Heeseung. “Maybe he just changed.” He said.

Jungwon sat next to him and grabbed the popcorn from him. “Hyung, people don’t change that fast. Jake hyung specifically. He was just talking about wanting to take her to Cancun for their fourth year anniversary and now they’re broken up. It’s weird.”

“Totally.” The others agreed.

“JAKEY, you crazy ex-girlfriend has been threatening me non-stop on twitter.” Nari pouted.

Jake glanced at her and sighed. “Just ignore her.”

“How can I? She leaves mean posts on everything I post. Can’t you talk to her or something?”

He exhaled loudly, grabbed his phone and went to your contact.

Jake  hi

He confronted you through texts, because for some reason, he couldn’t face you. It was strange, how just a few months ago, he couldn’t be a second away from you and now he’s telling you to stop bothering the girl next to him.

“She says she doesn’t even use twitter so she wouldn’t be able to threaten you, maybe it’s a bot.” He put his phone down, not really caring.

Nari scoffed. “You’re just going to leave it? What the hell, Jake?”

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, “just block her. Hate comments are stupid.”

Nari didn’t understand. Jake was supposed to be all over you, that was the plan. No one was supposed to intervene. Why did you have to come back and ruin everything? What did she have to do to keep you away from him?

WHEN JAKE ended things with Nari, it felt like something in him snapped, like he was finally himself again. He felt lighter, like a heavy weight was lifted away from his shoulders and he could finally walk normally again.

But then there was you, all the memories, all the moments you and him had, they reappeared out of nowhere. Like in the movie inside out, they popped out. Like they were taken away from him for a moment but they were back. And that was a horrible and emotional moment for him.

That night it happened, he went to the furthest bar to drink. He had just turned twenty-one just a few days ago, he could drink his feelings away. He could get drunk and forget all about the girl whose hurt he broke for whatever reason.

What did you even do to him?

Why did he ever accuse you of such things?

He knew you.

So why?

He kept thinking about it as he drowned in shots. Why all of a sudden did he start thinking of you differently, why did he think you would ever hurt him like that.

It was stupid.

It was immature.

He was disgusted with himself.

“Hey, kid. Are you okay?”

He looked up and smiled drunkenly, nodding. “Well you don’t look it.”

“I broke my girl’s heart. Like deeply, too many cuts—cut her heart in half, probably.” He shook his head, “well, not literally. I guess in a way, but not literally. She’s alive, is what I mean.”

“You’re young. I’m sure you’ll fix things.” The man beside him comforted him.

He scrunched his face in disagreement. No one was good at comforting him like you were. And he hated that at this moment, you weren’t here. And it was because of him.

“I doubt it. I messed everything up. I don’t even remember why. But I know I did.” He played with the empty glass.

“Maybe you should text her. If you know you messed up and you’re willing to try to fix things, she should at least know.” He suggested.

Jake looked at the older man and smiled, “you’re a wise man, anyone ever told ya that?”

“Many times, kid.”

He snorted and grabbed his phone, sweaty fingers touching the screen as he sent you those incoherent–yes, even in texts–messages.

A few minutes later, you responded and told him to stay where he was. Not like he was planning on moving anyways. But the security guard had helped him out, stayed with him. He even advised him to maybe slow things down and fix himself before he tried to fix things with you.

Somehow everyone knew what he should do but him.

“There she is!” Jake excitedly pointed right at you the moment you pulled over, making him realize you were actually there, for him. You didn’t even say anything when Jake made his way to you, again, stumbling on his feet. All you could do was look away, tapping your fingers on the wheel anxiously. And all he could do was watch as you drove back to his lonely apartment.

It was obvious you were disappointed in him, he could see it from a mile away, even while drunk. Because other than your father, he was the only one who could see right through you. And he hated not being able to say something, because that wasn’t his role anymore.

CHRISTMAS BREAK was going well for Jake. He had left school a little early, he knew his grades were good so he didn’t bother waiting until he got his final grade back. He just cared about going back home and having a conversation with his mom. Other than you, he sought comfort in his mom, and it’s not in that weird mommy's boy way–his mom’s someone who first showed him how to love. And also, he kind of wanted to chat with someone else, but he wasn’t sure it was the best idea.

Your dad was someone special to Jake. Not just because he’s your dad, but because he’s always treated him like his own kid, in a non-weird way. The first time he sought his help was when he got into a fight with a boy from school in his second year of high school. His own dad couldn’t make it that day, neither could his mom, so he called the person he trusted after them–your father. 

“Please don’t be mad at me. Y/n already is.” He walked out of the office, ashamed.

Your father patted his shoulder and guided him to the exit of the building. “Why’s my daughter mad?”

He glanced at him but shook his head. “I know the principal said I punched the kid just because, but there’s an explanation.” He sighed, “He was saying stuff about Y/n and at first I tried to stay calm because I know she doesn’t like when people fight, but then he said something really disrespectful and I…I got mad, and that’s when I punched him.” He confessed.

The older man nodded, “I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. Sure, violence isn’t the right answer. But when it’s someone you deeply care about, you tend to take things personally. Isn’t that right?” Jake nodded, “Why did my daughter get mad though?”

“She said I should just leave it alone because she didn’t want me to get in trouble for a stupid comment. But sir,” He turned completely to him. “It wasn’t just a stupid comment. It was disrespectful. But even if it was just a stupid comment, I would’ve confronted him either way, he’s such a jerk. He’s always being mean to people.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped out of the school.

Your father chuckled, “Well, Jake. You did get in trouble, but the boy got what he deserved. I saw him, his nose was bleeding.” He scrunched his nose, making Jake chuckle. “I’m glad my daughter has someone like you. She’s a strong girl herself, but sometimes she’s too kind and doesn’t see that the world can be cruel.”

Jake nodded at his words, his words cutting deeper than he thought. “Now, your parents will be really mad when they get home. Want to get some tteokbokki?”

He chuckled and smiled, “Yes, sir, I would like that.”

“Let’s go, kiddo.”

Jake hadn’t seen your father since you broke up. He couldn’t, and he shouldn’t. He wasn’t going to try and take away the person you treasured the most from you, just so he could have someone to talk to. But sure, as if God was on his side, as he was walking to your house to deliver his christmas gift and something else, a car approached him.

“Jake?”

He froze when he realized who it was. He saw the car window roll down completely and instantly did a ninety degree bow, making your father let out a laugh. “What are you doing out here in this cold weather, kid?” He asked.

Jake glanced at your house then back at him. “I-nothing, just walking.”

Before he could hide the gift in his hand–not that he even could since it was big, your father pulled over and signalled him to hop on the car.

“That for my daughter?” He gestured to the gift, making him nod awkwardly. “Hmm.”

“I know we’re broken up but–I don’t know,” He shrugged, really not knowing what to say.

Your dad nodded, “It’s been a while since we’ve talked, huh?” Jake nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

He looked at him for a second, a small smile forming in his lips. “You should talk to her.”

Jake’s eyes lightened up, “Are you sure?”

“I think you should help her tonight. She’s a bit down, I had a fight with her mother and she locked herself in her bedroom. Ruined her Christmas. I left before I even talked to her. Maybe you should try.” He explained.

The younger man frowned, “Is–Is everything okay?”

Your dad nodded. “With her? Not really. She needs someone right now.”

He shook his head, hesitating. “I don’t think I’m the best choice for her to be with right now. We’re not exactly on good terms and I don’t want to disturb her or ruin her night even more.” He rambled, shaking his head then looking down at his gift. “No offense, sir, but I shouldn’t even be talking to you. You're like– her favorite person and I don’t want her to think that I’m trying to steal you away or something.”

He snorted, “I’m sure she won’t think that.”

Jake puckered his lips out.

“You can talk to me, you know? I might be more judgmental because you did hurt my daughter badly but I’m still here for you, kiddo.”

At his words, Jake relaxed in his seat. He couldn’t help but to feel guilty about talking to your father, but he wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t being paid to listen, and he offered that.. “I love your daughter, sir. I really really do, and I know you probably don’t believe me and that’s totally fine, but I don’t know what the hell happened to me that day. I don’t know why I called her those horrible names. I seriously don’t. And you know, if you want to punch me, you are free to do so. No one did that to me when I called her names and I feel a little bit hypocritic. And I’m sure you want to punch me and hurt me because I hurt Y/n so bad she had to leave the country. I don’t even remember her leaving, she was just gone. And for some reason, I don’t think I cared–again, feel free to punch me–but during the months she was gone, I felt like I was empty, I don't even remember anything about this summer. And when she came back, I started feeling again, all sorts of emotions, and it was weird.” He paused for air, then sighed. “I know it’ll take a lot of effort and time for her to forgive me, and I know that even if she does, she’ll never forget those words. And that will haunt me forever, but I just want to try for her, you know? I have been going to therapy for about a month now and I think it’s working. But sometimes when I’m talking, I remember it’s paid therapy so I just go back to square one because does my therapist actually cares about how I’m feeling? Sorry, this isn’t about me–the point is, I really want to try for Y/n, I really do.”

Your dad stared at the out of breath boy and smiled. “It’s good that you’re working on yourself before anything. That’s how it should be.”

“You think?”

He nodded. “Have you ever heard of the saying “how can you love someone if you don't even love yourself?” Jake nodded, “It applies here, sort of. How are you going to try to work things out with Y/n if you haven't worked things out with yourself?”

Jake stared at the older man, “but what if by the time I’m better, she’s with someone else?”

That was a question he never asked himself before until now, and he just realized how painful the scenario was.

“Then you learn to let her go.”

Your dad responded, and Jake’s breath hitched. “My daughter–she’s very hard on herself, but she has her standards set. If one day she decides to forgive you, even if it’s years from now…then it means you changed for the better, and not just for her. But for yourself.”

“What if the only reason I want to change for the better is for her?”

“Then you’re being selfish.”

Jake looked away, holding the gift tighter. “Don’t ask for her forgiveness. Show her that you’re willing to become better. That you’re willing to wait, however long it takes.”

For the first time in months, Jake realized the lengths he’d go for you, the time he was willing to wait. It was kind of stupid that he needed your dad’s help to figure it out, but still. 

“You’re a great dad, sir.”

The older man chuckled, “I’ve been told.”

JAKE'S HEART had broken when he read the message you had sent him after Christmas break, he understood why, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. The therapy sessions weren’t helping either, since all his therapist wanted to talk about was about the present. Jake wanted to talk about you.

You were considered the past.

And he hated that.

Because his therapist was right.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Relaxed, I guess.”

The therapist nodded, writing down something in her journal. “Why are we feeling relaxed today, Jake?”

“Uh, the project I mentioned last week? I finished yesterday.” He said, sighing. “Now I just have to worry about the up-coming exams. But in comparison to the project…I feel more relaxed–I don’t have any work to do.”

The therapist raised her eyebrows and smiled, “That’s good to hear, Jake. It must feel good to take that weight off of your chest.”

“I guess.”

“What about future plans? Spring break is coming up.”

He nodded, patting his sweaty hands on his lap. “I’m going to Australia for an interview. I’m trying to get an internship at this company.”

The woman raised her eyebrows and smiled. “That’s amazing news. Is it something you like?”

“Yeah, I see myself in that field. Before I moved here, my dad used to work there and I really like what he told me about it.”

She smiled, writing something down. “So you’re following your dreams, that’s good.”

He nodded.

“What about short term plans? Do you have any plans for the weekend?” She asked, writing something down.

Jake shook his head, “My friends are hanging out but I don’t feel like going out tonight.”

“Why not?” She wondered.

He sighed and shrugged, “I just want to rest and watch a movie. Something peaceful.”

The woman nodded, “What movie?”

Jake chuckled, “I don’t know…Tangled?”

The woman sighed, putting her note pad down.

“You’ve mentioned that movie a few times these past sessions.” She recalled, making him smile awkwardly.

“I-It’s a good movie.” He shrugged, keeping casual.

It’s in fact, a movie he only watched with you. It was your movie. You two even dressed up as Rapunzel and Flynn once in your freshmen year of college. It wasn’t just a movie to him, it was you.

“Let’s try something.”

He sighed in defeat.