mintseung

[mintseung]

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚's 𝗩𝗘𝗥 !

prólogo Heeseung loved you, but he can't deny how good you make him feel when you clench around him while you praise (he won't admit the last one, but his moans just gives him away) [MASTERLIST]

elenco lee heeseung x f!reader

género smut with little plot

antes de leer mirror sex, unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise kink (both), breeding (plus mentions of having his babies), dirty talk, clit play, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), squirting, multiple orgasms, Heeseung loves reader, reader los Heeseung, mentions of hickeys, thigh riding/grinding, facial, cum eating (please let me know if I missed something)

# palabras +2.3k

Heeseung's eyes were so pretty when they were captivated by the adrenaline consuming him.

The second day of Coachella finished, hence why you were in your bed watching the fancams that were already out on probably all social media while your boyfriend showered.

Your phone screen lit up with the thumbnail of a close-up fancam—to be specific, a 'Paradoxx Invasion' fancam of today. Your finger was quick in tapping the video immediately. Your heart thudded while looking at the way his body moved; he was confident, and he knew he was the moment alongside the members.

The trail of sweat tracing his jawline as well as his neck, his neck a little red due to the hair dye that went along with his sweat, he was showing his presence, and it was impossible to look away, whether you went there or not. You held your breath when the camera zoomed in on the moment of the hip thrust, head back and his movement sharp, just to give a teasing smirk after.

The soft thud snapped your attention away from your screen; the bathroom door creaked to show him—towel slung low on his hips, another running through his damp hair.

"Did you catch me again?" he asked in a tone that made you roll your eyes. You block your phone to stand, grabbing the towel he was using to dry him properly.

Water still clung to his chest, his collarbones glistening under the warm light of the hotel room you were staying in, and his eyes were on yours. "Yes, I was watching you. You look hot and did amazing up there."

The small dominant facade he had briefly shattered a little bit, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he looked away in a shy demeanor, "Then why are you watching on your phone when you got to watch it today?"

"Because I could never get enough of you." You gave him the towel after finishing your job; his eyes were tender on yours. He reached out, the towel falling carelessly to the floor as his arms wound around your waist, drawing you in close until your body was pressed flush against the heat of his.

For obvious reasons, his skin was still warm, the citrusy and soft scent of the body wash he used lingered in the air, and you could hear his slightly fast heartbeat. "How can you say all this stuff in such a nonchalant way?"

Your fingers curled lightly against his chest, tilting your head to meet his gaze, that damn smile that made your heart also jump. His lips hovered close to yours, eyes searching your face again. "Because it's true."

Your nose brushes against his as your hands slide slowly around his back, making him chuckle under his breath. "I want to reward you for a successful Coachella." His eyebrow raised, intrigued, your waist getting subtly tightened by his hands.

“Really, what kind?” Without breaking eye contact. Your fingers decided to slowly trail down his back, feeling the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch until the tips of your fingers lay on the towel, taking it out from his hips completely to have him fully naked in front of you.

You made him sit in the bed with a fake innocent smile on your face. His cock was slowly getting hard. You began to strip in front of him, slow enough to see his hand beginning to ghost on his base, eyes glossy in need.

You turned around after taking your bra off your body, getting a view of your tits with an almost vanished hickey he gave at the top of one, your thumbs on each side of your panty, and pulling them down, clearly hearing a moan from him when he saw the wetness that was already creating in your entrance. The soft sound sent a rush of satisfaction through your body, making your little performance a success.

You turned again, this time facing him and grabbing his face with your hands, your thumb caressing his left cheek tenderly. Once again, his eyes—now slightly hooded—were glossy, neediness written all over your face, silently begging for your touch once and for all, but you could also see his dominance shine through it. One hand was moving up and down on his cock while the other one was on the matter to generate support; he was manspreading the whole time, which made it easier to get closer.

“How do you want to start, baby? You decide.” Your word out, he was fast enough to manhandle you to sit on top of his naked thigh; you couldn’t contain the whimper that left your mouth at the delicious friction, soon being cut by his lips in a passionate kiss. A type of kiss that he was always eager to give you.

Both of you lost yourself in the moment; his hands went to your ass as yours were messing his hair from the back. The kiss deepened—sloppy and hungry, your lower lip getting sweetly bitten by him—as your hips instinctively moved, grinding slowly against the firm muscle of his thigh. The mere sound of your soaking cunt and the soft moans that ended directly on his mouth made him groan, his head throwing back as he was slowly ascending to heaven.

Your kisses went from behind his ears to his jaw to end up on his neck, smiling wickedly at an idea that popped out. Heeseung hissed at the sensation of skin getting sucked, but soon smiled at your sweet attempt at revenge. He looked to his left, noticing the full-length mirror your room had that protected the filthy scene they were creating.

The pretty view of you starting to desperately grind against his thigh harder with your head hiding on the crook of his neck, coating it with your juices, and his hand on one of your ass cheeks, a quick spank landing on it, and he could swear he saw strings of your arousal when you jumped in surprise.

“Fuck, you look so hot.” You lifted your head and followed his gaze; the scene was hot, indeed. The knot was generated very quickly, especially when Heeseung’s fingers joined to finally touch your throbbing clit.

“God, you know how to make me feel so good, Hee,” you moaned. Heeseung's lips curled into a smirk as your praise washed over him, his fingers drawing slow, tight circles over your clit.

“And I’m not even close to being done.”

You whined softly, your forehead falling to his shoulder one more time as your hips chased his touch, grinding deeper into his thigh while his fingers worked you with precision, one that only came from knowing your body like second nature. His free hand moved to your waist, holding you firmly, grounding you while your body threatened to lose control.

"Such a messy princess, and I haven’t even—" He cut himself off with a sharp exhale as you rocked against him harder, your moans growing in volume.

Heeseung groaned against your lips, lifting you effortlessly as he laid you back onto the bed, spreading your legs with a look so intense it made your breath hitch. His cock was tall and proud; grabbing it by the base, he slapped your cunt, the tip of it teasing your entrance and laughing at your pathetic attempts to finally have him inside you.

“I love how she’s so eager for me.” A sloppy slap landed right on your entrance, provoking more arousal to generate.

“Please, Heeseung. Fuck me already,” He didn’t wait for more begging; he didn’t even actually want to wait any longer. He slid himself in with ease, hips going back and forth with a controlled pace to not hurt you. The face of full bliss was a perfect mind picture.

It was raw; you could feel every vein, how he twitched the moment your tight walls hugged him, and how your broken moan made him smile cockily. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them up to keep them wide open for him.

“You said it’s whatever I want today, right, baby?” He whispered, and you simply nodded, your voice only being available for moans and whimpers. “I want you to look at me; I want to see how good I make this pussy feel.”

“You always know how to treat this pussy, baby—fuck.” Your eyes shut close briefly before opening again, obeying him by locking eyes with him despite the haze of pleasure that was clouding your mind at that moment. The praise made him go faster, his cock dragging perfectly against your wall and his tip touching that sweet spot that only he and his fingers could reach. “God, Heeseung—” your voice broke into a moan, hands reaching your own breasts, you played with your nipples for extra pleasure. He leaned down enough to suck one of them.

He pulled back to admire the way you arched beneath him. “Can’t wait to paint you with my cum.”

“After you get me pregnant, baby,” you could see how that threw his head into a spiral; now your legs went around his waist, screaming at the sudden change of pace, hips snapping harder into yours, the dirty sounds of the skin slapping echoing in the room mixing with muffled words.

One hand slid between your bodies to rub fast, tight circles on your clit again, adding more pleasure. You could feel yourself close—so close—you started trembling under him, your eyes rolled as you felt your orgasm coiling tighter and tighter in your stomach.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna cum in your cock.” He leaned close to you, lips hovering right above yours.

“Go on, princess. You behaved so well that I will give you all the babies you want.” You could barely hold on at the thought of it, your nails digging into his back as you cried his name like a mantra, your climax crashing over you in intense waves that made you even think if ecstasy was possible. Your walls pulsed around him, milking every inch, and he let out a strangled groan, pushing deep, chasing his own high.

With a few more rough and sloppy thrusts, he spilled inside you, burying his face in your neck, his breath ragged. A few minutes passed, and he took his cock out, but the break was over as soon as you didn't feel the mattress below you.

You two were now standing in front of the mirror, you in front of him as if you were bowing at the mirror with your hands on each side of the frame. You were weak, but you won’t deny how turned on you got after seeing him putting all his cum back inside you as it started to drip from your cunt, holding it in with his fingers for a couple seconds before standing again. “Eyes on the mirror, baby.”

He slammed his hips, a high, broken moan ripping your throat as he touched your spot right away.. “Fuck, Heeseung!”

Heeseung groaned low and deep behind you; you couldn’t even think straight, you could only focus on the reflection—your body trembling, legs barely holding you up, his hands gripping your hips for dear life, arms flexed due to the effort. All of this while watching you—his gaze was burning through the glass, almost like a hungry focus that only you ever got to see.

His hand travelled to your throat, holding it up with a little bit of pressure, his free hands touching your body from your breasts to your clit, rubbing it relentlessly. “That’s mine, all of it.”

You whimpered, your knees threatening to give out with every thrust. The mirror wobbled slightly under your grip, your skin flushed and shining with sweat, hair stuck to your neck, lips parted around the cries you could no longer hold back. Heeseung's hand gently wrapped around your throat was still holding you, just enough to make you tilt your head, eyes locking in the mirror again.

“All yours,, baby—fuck!” He adjusted his grip, pulling you tighter , hips meeting yours with bruising intent, “Heeseung, i-it’s too much.”

“Give me another one, sweetheart—I earned it, remember?" he said, his cocky smile still shining through his wrecked facade.

“Yes, you did. Fucking this pussy good.” The heat built again—way too fast to the point that the overwhelming sensation also started to be overstimulating—and the second he slid a hand back down to your clit, your body reacted on instinct. You came harder than before, stars dancing behind your eyes as your legs shook and your forehead fell against the mirror, the cool glass basically supporting you.

You felt the liquid falling from your thighs to the floor, your squirt also reaching his legs and coating his dick clean. “Oh God—I’m going to cum.” Heeseung pulled back, and you took a moment to kneel in front of him. Breasts touching each other, tongue out, and your tired yet begging eyes looking right at him.

His dick was red, thighs completely flexed, announcing how he was going to give you a good facial, head thrown back, and hand on the frame of the mirror to keep him standing.

The first warm strand landed on your tongue, followed by another, then another—marking your skin like a painter finishing his masterpiece. Heeseung moaned loudly, hips jerking slightly with every wave of release as he emptied himself onto you. His fingers dug into the edge of the mirror for support; the image of you on your knees, panting and flushed, will definitely be on repeat when he goes alone on tour.

When his breathing finally slowed, he looked down, eyes softening at the sight of you—messy, beautiful, radiant in the afterglow. You blinked up at him, licking your lips with a satisfied smirk, and he chuckled, a breathless sound that melted into the quiet of the room.

"You're going to kill me one day," he whispered, reaching down to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You giggled, voice raspy. "Worth it."

TAGLIST (OPEN): @heesexual74 @vixialuvs @riqomi @beomgyus11 @starry-eyed-bimbo @rawrrxan @veilstqr @k1ttyjwon @fancypeacepersona @kittympirty (COMMENT TO BE ADDED)

─── DAY TWO HELL YEAH i know it was supposed to be posted yesterday (i'm posting this at 11:11 p.m) but my laptop is my main hater, hope i can bag some hee stans with this one 💗‼️

[mintseung]

• I'm burning hot - LHS ↳ ┊: hot - le sserafim

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆being under the same company as your idol crush has it’s perks, especially when it comes to variety shows ⨾

۶ৎ idol!heeseung x fem idol!reader┆fluff, crack┆slight age gap? (3 years), co-workers to ???┆reader is in le sserafim┆wc 1.1k

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to my sweet 🫧 anon who requested this! i think it’s such a cute prompt and i hope i did okay ㅠㅠ feedback and reblogs are always appreciated >0<

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

rule number 1 of being an idol: don’t fall in love.

rule number 2 of being an idol: if you make eye contact with a male idol, you’re dating.

rule number 3 of being an idol: don’t even interact with a male idol or else you’re dating.

so when you were told by your manager that you were going to be going on a variety show with lee heeseung of enhypen, you knew you were absolutely done for.

heeseung was the one idols you would break all those rules for. he was the one that could single handily break your career with a single second of eye contact.

you weren't sure if it was immense luck or immense doom that you were paired with your idol crush of many years, but whatever it was, it made your stomach turn with different emotions.

“chaewon eonnieeee,” you whined. “i’m so dead…the netizens are gonna rip me apart if i even breathe too close to him.” you sulked, dramatically flopping onto the practice room floors.

“ynnie, just be yourself, okay? it'll go smoothly if you don't fumble! just…try to avoid any scandals…” chaewon mumbles the last part, resulting in a playful smack on her shoulder.

“hey! don’t scare her like that!” yunjin scolds, walking over to where you two were sitting.

“she’s gonna be fine. just keep the eye contact to a minimum and don’t go too close to him, got it?” yunjin says, listing the things on her fingers.

got it. so basically don’t even breathe around lee heeseung. that’ll go wonderfully.

~~

you weren’t even sure what the variety show was and what was even going to happen on it. you’re pretty sure your manager was telling you about it but you probably weren’t listening.

all you knew was that you were insanely nervous and very unprepared. oh! and that it was school themed.

when you first walked into the classroom that was rented out, you were greeted very politely by the staff and the show hosts. the show hosts were very famous comedians that were also dressed in high-school uniforms, despite being in their 40's.

then, your eyes locked with the prettiest bambi eyes ever. well- there goes rule number 2.

there stood lee heeseung who was practically glowing with his fake glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. god, did he look so good.

“hello! i’m y/n of le sserafim. it’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted, hoping your voice wasn't too shaky.

you shook hands with heeseung and for a second, you felt your career flash before you eyes.

“hi! i’m heeseung of enhypen! no need to be so formal! i heard we’re gonna be partners for the show!” he smiled sweetly, chuckling at how formal you were being.

“ah ok! i’m actually not quite sure what this show is about…” you replied sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks.

“oh no worries! i’m sure they’re gonna explain everything before we start shooting,” he laughs lightly.

by the time you actually start filming, you’re already exhausted. you have to admit that you were having a ton of fun with the games and you have to say, you and heeseung make an amazing duo.

however, there was definitely a part of you that was holding back as you didn't want to make heeseung uncomfortable in any way. so far, you two had won the random dance challenge, shouting in silence, and limbo.

seeing heeseung laugh whole-heatedly made you smile, noticing the way he seemed less uptight like in the beginning.

you two were able to earn many coins so you could afford the more luxurious lunch options.

"hmm i say we get a tteokbokki, a ramyeon, and some galbi!" heeseung says, scrunching his eyebrows as he looks at the menu.

"i trust you and you're decisions," you nod, trying to hide you blushing cheeks. why did lee heeseung have to be so charming?!

you two sat next to each other for lunch as you were sharing the dishes you ordered, while the show still went on. the hosts were cracking jokes and also asking questions about your guys' idol lives.

at one point, one of the hosts pointed out how you and heeseung made a great pair in all of the games. the only games you two lost were pictionary (due to heeseung's horrendous artistic skills) and red light green light (due to your inability to stay still).

the comment made you blush for the 1015th time today and out of the corner of your eye, you saw heeseung's ears turn red as well. you prayed they would edit that out.

when filming came to an end, you stuck around just for a bit of behind-the-scenes filming, group photos, and a bit of filming for your vlog.

"heeseung! come here!" you called out to the taller man. "come say hi to the fearnots!"

"hello fearnots! don't worry, i have taken care of y/n just fine and we actually make a great time!" he says to the camera, leaning in to your side a bit.

but while he talks some more to the camera, all you can focus on is him. how close he is, how good his perfume smells, and how much more beautiful he is up close.

"right y/n?" heeseung's voice knocks you out of your daze and you quickly recover.

"yep!" you squeak, hoping it didn't seem too awkward.

you also managed to squeeze in a bit of challenge filming. your group recently made a comeback and enhypen was releasing a digital single very soon so it was perfect. you let heeseung decide if he wanted to do the 'come over' challenge, or the 'hot' challenge and clearly, he had an opinion.

"if we do the hot challenge, with you caption it 'heeseung's burning hot'?" he playfully smirks. you shove his shoulder lightly, laughing off your flustered-ness.

"fine," you huff, rolling your eyes at him.

you two quickly learned each other's choreo and were able to film the challenges very successfully (with minor casualties). the loose choreo was very enticing and it definitely did not help with your flustered state.

"so, am i burning hot?" he smirks again, taking a sip of water after finished the challenges. you feel the air get caught in your throat.

"no," you lie, holding back an equally annoying smirk. but before you can think anymore, heeseung leans in to whisper something into your ear:

"darling, we both know that's a lie."

his expression is unreadable but there's a faint glint of interest in his eyes. and before you know it, he's walking out the door with his manager, mouthing the words "call me" as you discover the piece of paper in your pocket.

oh, chaewon was so gonna kill you.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication, @melodiessvy, @soona-huh

[mintseung]

dom!jake headcanons ! જ⁀➴ ♡

s.jy ── nsfw hcs ꕤ p. soft dom!jake x afab!reader, w. smut (18+ mdni!), praise kink, cockwarming, mentions of aftercare, ✿ made a soft vs hard dom!enha series, please read all parts! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ heeseung won the poll, but his is longer than I expected i have to make some cuts so enjoy this instead hehe :3

dom!enha series (in progress): sunoo, jake, heeseung, jay, jungwon, sunghoon ──── you are reading -> jakes vers

to read all you have to do is click under the cut!, reminder, this fic contains nsfw content, and I don’t want anyone under 18, interacting ^^ please respect that hehe <33

dom!jake who can’t stop kissing you when you get shy. your cheeks go pink and your eyes avoid his, but he just tilts your chin up, murmurs, “look at me, pretty girl,” and plants slow, sweet kisses on your lips until you melt into him. he’ll palm your thighs while whispering, “you get so cute when you’re nervous. i could eat you up.”

dom!jake who always asks before doing anything. “can i take your panties off?” “can i touch you here?” and when you nod, wide-eyed and breathless, he’ll grin, press his forehead to yours, and say, “thank you, baby. thank you for letting me take care of you.”

dom!jake who makes you ride his cock just to warm him up before bed, your body curled around him, your face tucked into his neck, and his arms caging you in like he’s keeping you safe. “just like that, angel. stay full of me, yeah? we don’t have to move… just wanna feel you.”

dom!jake who praises the hell out of you when you give him head, runs his hands through your hair, guides you gently while sighing out, “fuck, baby… so good, so perfect.. gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth, huh?” and when you gag? he wipes your lips and kisses your forehead like you just made him the happiest man alive.

dom!jake who puts a pillow under your hips and rubs your thighs when he’s getting ready to fuck you; “need you to be comfy, sweet girl. we’ll go slow. i got you.” and he means it. every single thrust is laced with love, even when he’s fucking you deep enough to cry.

dom!jake who lives for aftercare. he’s obsessed with you limp and fucked-out in his arms, barely able to keep your eyes open. he’ll coo sweet nothings into your hair like, “you did so well for me, baby. so proud of you. my perfect girl.” and then carry you to the bathroom to clean you up like you’re royalty.

dom!jake who wakes up hard every morning and doesn’t even say anything, just rolls over, pulls you into his chest, slides a hand between your legs and starts rubbing slow little circles. when you whimper, he mumbles, “shh… it’s just me, baby. lemme make you feel good.” then fucks you slow and sleepy until he’s moaning into your neck and you’re clenching around him like you’ll never let go.

dom!jake who gets genuinely pouty if you’re too tired or sore to play. not mad, just… soft and desperate. clings to you like a warm puppy and says, “it’s okay, baby. just want your cuddles tonight. but i miss you already.”

© seominis 2025. all rights reserved. dont copy, repost, or translate without my permission. my inbox is open!

[mintseung]

WHEN YOUR ❀ 닫다

。 when the campus player meets the it-girl, he starts to fall without meaning to

西村力 x fem!reader · fluff ??? to lovers 🍚 129O wc ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა mutual pining skinship (hair playing) college au mentions of past flings riki is 100% a ghoster

more like this 🥿

you were the kind of girl who turned heads just by existing.

perfectly polished, always in your signature shades of pastel and pearl, and never once caught slipping—your instagram feed looked like it belonged to a celebrity, and your followers treated it like gospel. you weren’t loud. you weren’t mean. you didn’t have to be. your presence did all the talking, and the campus noticed the second you stepped foot into orientation.

“that’s y/n y/l/n,” someone had whispered outside the coffee cart. “transfer from new york. she used to model for muse.”

“she’s best friends with karina and wonyoung,” someone else added, a little too loudly. “they’re basically the most popular girls on campus now.”

truthfully, you didn’t care much for the title. you just wanted to study communications, drink overpriced matcha, and make it to your thursday 10 a.m. without running into—

“he’s staring again,” winter muttered under her breath, flicking her eyes to the gym across the courtyard.

your eyes followed her gaze, already knowing who she meant.

nishimura riki.

6’0” and all limbs, with sharp cheekbones, permanent bed hair, and the coldest resting face you’d ever seen. the star shooting guard of the university basketball team. quiet, unreadable, and undeniably hot, he was known for three things: leading his team to nationals, ignoring every girl who tried to talk to him, and ghosting the ones who somehow made it past his walls.

girls still tried, though. and why wouldn’t they? he was a walking fantasy.

but none of them lasted longer than a week.

and yet… he was looking at you like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

again.

the first time you officially met riki, he had said nothing to you.

it was at a party hosted by sunghoon and jay, who were, unsurprisingly, as rich as they were hot. your friend group was clustered on the balcony, sipping something pink out of champagne flutes while the guys set up beer pong in the living room.

“what are the odds he talks to you tonight?” liz asked, nudging you with her shoulder.

you glanced over her glass, already knowing who she meant. riki was sitting on the arm of the couch, legs spread, black hoodie slouched off one shoulder, silent while his friends joked around him. he didn’t laugh often, but when jake said something stupid, he smirked.

just a little.

“zero,” you replied, sipping your drink. “he’s never said more than five words to a girl in public.”

“except to make out with them and disappear,” rei added under her breath, and the whole group burst into laughter.

you weren’t expecting him to stand next to you half an hour later, leaning against the balcony railing like he belonged there.

“you don’t like parties?” he asked, voice low, a little gruff.

you blinked. “i—huh?”

his lips twitched, the barest ghost of a smirk. “you keep checking the time.”

you hadn’t realized he’d been watching you.

“i have a shoot tomorrow,” you said. “8 a.m.”

he nodded once. “still came out?”

you shrugged. “my friends dragged me.”

he glanced behind you at the rest of your group, who were all trying (and failing) to act like they weren’t watching this interaction with wide eyes.

when you looked back at him, he was already looking at you again.

“you don’t talk to many people, do you?” you asked.

“no.”

“but you’re talking to me.”

he tilted his head slightly. “you’re not like the others.”

that was the first time you felt your chest tighten.

it started subtly after that.

he’d sit near you in the dining hall even if his friends were across the room. he’d pass you the ball during intramural scrimmages even if you’d never played seriously. he’d walk behind you in the library and mutter “move” when you blocked his path—only to reach past you for a book you couldn’t reach on your own.

you were playing with the sleeve of your sweater one day when he plucked it from your hand.

“nervous habit?” he asked.

“i guess.”

he looked at it. let go. “cute.”

you were pretty sure you forgot how to breathe after that.

"you know he’s not like this with anyone else,” karina pointed out one day as you sat in your shared dorm.

“i know,” you said, brushing a hand through your hair. “he hasn’t even looked at another girl in weeks.”

wonyoung raised an eyebrow. “but do you like him?”

you paused.

riki was annoying sometimes. blunt. sarcastic. hard to read. he never smiled unless it was at you, and even then it was faint. but when you were cold at the court last week, he’d tossed you his jacket without saying anything. when your heel broke at the team party, he gave you his sneakers and walked you home barefoot. when you casually mentioned that you liked cream puffs, one showed up in your locker the next day with no note—but you knew it was from him.

so yes. you liked him.

but saying it out loud felt dangerous.

“…i think so,” you admitted.

"you’re in my hair again,” he said one afternoon, not looking up from his phone.

you didn’t realize your fingers were threading through his soft brown strands again until he pointed it out. he was lying in your lap on the quad lawn, hoodie tugged over his head, eyes half-closed.

“sorry,” you whispered.

he shrugged. “i don’t mind.”

you glanced to the side, where heeseung and sunghoon were watching from the picnic tables like they’d just witnessed a solar eclipse.

sunoo had his phone out.

“are your friends always this subtle?” you asked.

“they think i’m not paying attention,” he muttered.

you laughed, letting your fingers gently scratch his scalp again. “you’re really not gonna stop me?”

“told you. i don’t mind.” he paused, then added, “only you, though.”

your heart stuttered.

it wasn’t official. not yet.

but everyone knew what you were.

riki didn’t flirt with other girls anymore. he barely even looked at them. if someone tried to touch him at parties, he moved away. if they asked for his number, he said no. and when anyone mentioned your name, his jaw would clench—just a little.

he didn’t say much, but his actions were louder than any declaration.

and when his friends brought it up, he just said “i’m not playing her.”

you were waiting for him after practice one evening, a cream puff box in hand, your cardigan slipping off one shoulder.

he walked out of the gym, sweaty and scowling, his hair a mess under his hood.

when he saw you, he stopped in his tracks 

“what’s this?” he asked, eyeing the box.

“i owe you,” you said softly. “for the other day.”

he took it slowly, fingers brushing yours. “you remembered.”

“i always do.”

he looked at you for a long moment.

then, “come here.”

you blinked. “huh—?”

he kissed you before you could finish.

his hands were gentle, one cupping the side of your face, the other slipping to your waist like he wasn’t used to touching something so soft. the kiss was warm, slow, careful in a way that made your knees weak.

when he pulled back, he didn’t let go.

“i’m not good at saying stuff,” he murmured, forehead resting against yours. “but i want this. you. just you.”

you stared at him, stunned.

then smiled. “good. because i want you, too.”

no one really saw it coming, not even you.

but riki, the campus player, had fallen hard.

and for once, he didn’t mind.

because when you touched his hair, he leaned into it. because when you smiled, he smiled back. because he didn’t care about the game anymore. he had already won.

enhypen taglist: @ash-engen @cheruphic @chrrific @jungwonbropls @ijustreallylike2read @ijustwannareadstuff20 @manaah02

© callikari — all rights reserved

[mintseung]

— 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

the one where heeseung spirals into a twisted obsession after meeting his lovely stepdaughter.

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, a/b/o au, smut

➺ WORD COUNT: 9.2k

➺ CW/TW: alpha!heeseung, omega!reader, stepcest, infidelity, age gap, obsession, possessiveness, grinding, begging, spanking, spitting, fingering, biting, daddy kink, breeding kink, size kink, hand job, pussy slaps, oral sex (f), squirting, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, knotting

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Heeseung has always had obsessive tendencies.

Ever since he was a kid, he would fixate on something (or someone) until it became his or until he grew sick of it. His parents had brushed it off as a normal alpha disposition. They claimed he was territorial like any other alpha, so there was nothing to really worry about. Even back then, Heeseung knew that obsessive was a better word to describe him. Either way, because of this enabling, he never tried to correct his behavior despite knowing it wasn’t entirely normal.

As the years passed, Heeseung was able to control himself better (for the most part). After college, nothing really grabbed his attention the way it used to, and he mistakenly thought it was because he had finally grown out of his obsessive tendencies.

That undesirable part of him lay dormant for so long that he was able to lead a normal life. He even found a nice beta to settle down with. She was older than him and willing to placate him in every way. Even though Heeseung didn’t love her, she gave her entire heart to him. His selfishness allowed him to accept everything she was willing to give him, and he never once felt bad about it. After all, his wife wanted nothing more than to support him and make him a better man. Which she sort of did. At some point, Heeseung was convinced that he was slowly shedding the obsessive part of his personality completely thanks to his wife.

That illusion shattered the moment he met his wife’s daughter.

Heeseung always knew his wife had a daughter that was in college because she told him about you on their second date. Honestly, he’d put the information in the back of his mind because his wife made it clear that you had your own life and weren’t all that interested in hers. According to her, you deviated from the typical omega because you weren’t affectionate or clingy. She made the offhand comment that your unnatural disposition is the reason you haven’t gone through your first heat despite being well past the age for it.

Even though he thought that was beyond strange, he didn’t care enough to ask more. After all, he would probably only ever see you a few times a year.

It’s a hot summer day when Heeseung meets you. His wife isn’t all that thrilled about you coming over, but apparently you need to get something from her that can’t wait for another time. There are no secrets in his marriage, but for the first time ever, his loving wife refuses to tell him what it is that you need so badly.

Heeseung comes downstairs when he hears his wife open the door. Her greeting is unenthusiastic, and he manages to catch the tail end of an awkward hug. At first he thinks it’s because of your supposed aversion to affection, but when he watches his wife shove a small bag in your hands like it’s some big inconvenience, he thinks maybe you’re not the problem.

Once he gets closer, he’s hit with an unnaturally sweet scent at full force. It’s mouth-watering and dizzying in the best way. The beast inside him wants nothing more than to bury its nose in the source and never come up for air.

“Honey!” His wife exclaims as she leads you to the living room. “Come here. I want you to meet someone.”

The second he lays his eyes on you—a pretty college girl that has yet to go through her first heat—he’s unable to control the familiar dark feeling building in his chest. His pulse starts to race, and right then he realizes that his wife hadn’t helped him break his obsessive streak at all.

Your alluring eyes and bashful smile are completely entrancing. They radiate an intense beauty he didn’t believe existed in this world. Somehow, Heeseung is able to hide the dark desire consuming him as he introduces himself. Your voice is soft and gentle when you say your name as if you’re still wary of him. He finds it adorable, and so damn tempting. Already, his cock is twitching and coming alive.

“Why didn’t your little boyfriend come with you?” Your mom’s voice yanks Heeseung out of his trance.

A sickening feeling pinches his gut. Boyfriend?

“Jake and I aren’t together anymore, mom.” You say it so indifferently that Heeseung has to hold back a sigh of relief. “I told you that last time we talked.”

Not that you having a boyfriend would have posed too much of a problem, but it definitely would’ve made things more difficult for him.

“Are you staying for dinner, Y/N?” Heeseung wonders, hoping you’ll say yes.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes shifting beside him to exchange a look with your mom. Whatever you see on her face makes you shake your head. Your pretty lips pull down slightly in genuine regret. “No—Sorry. Maybe next time.”

Heeseung resists the urge to shake off his wife’s touch when her hands snake around his arm. He can feel her smile against his bicep. It’s revolting and puzzling. Why wouldn’t she want her own daughter around?

“That’s okay, sweetie. We’ll have dinner some other time whenever you’re free.”

She sounds smug, but you don’t offer her any reaction. All you do is politely say your goodbyes before hastily leaving the house.

If Heeseung were any other man, he would’ve been happy to have his wife all to himself again. However, all he can think of is you now. His hidden stepdaughter who evoked emotions from him that are intense enough to fuel the sprouting of an obsession.

“Classes start soon,” Heeseung mentions casually the next morning. “Does Y/N usually stay on campus?”

The sour look on his wife’s face is quickly masked when she takes a sip of her coffee. “She started living with that Jake boy after she graduated high school. He has an apartment near the university.”

Heeseung tries not to sneer at the mention of the boy who had clearly been an important part of your life. “It didn’t bother you that she ran off to live with some boy so soon after finishing school?”

His wife scoffs. “She was already an adult when she decided to live with him. It’s not like I could stop her.”

More like she didn’t want to.

“Invite her to stay with us.”

The words are casual and could be seen as considerate to anyone who didn’t know of the dark intentions looming in Heeseung’s mind. His wife almost chokes on her drink when she hears his suggestion. Her eyes widened the slightest bit. An unsettling amount of rage swims in her irises as his suggestion sinks in. It’s gone within a few seconds, but he caught it.

“Honey,” her voice is tight. “That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Heeseung challenges, raising an eyebrow at the fumbling woman.

“I– She—She probably won’t want to,” his wife clears her throat to cover up how flustered she feels. “I’m sure she already made plans to stay with one of her friends instead.”

“Call her.” It’s not a suggestion anymore. “Tell her to come stay with us.”

And that’s the moment his obsession began to spiral out of control.

It’s obvious that your mother isn’t thrilled about having you around, but Heeseung feels the exact opposite. Unlike his wife’s malicious description of you, you’re so unbearably sweet and polite to him that he can’t help but be completely endeared by you. He’s not sure if it’s his natural instinct or the inappropriate feelings he has, but he basks in the emotions you evoke from the depths of his heart.

You’re a sweet girl through and through, always offering to help around the house, or keeping him company when your mom’s working late. Heeseung can tell you genuinely like to help him and spend time with him which makes him all the more crazy for you.

This is incomparable to how he feels when he realizes how comfortable you’ve gotten around him. When Heeseung told you to treat his home as your own, you took him up on the offer (much to his pleasure). You sometimes walk around in a tiny nightie that barely covers anything or tiny sleep shorts and a thin tank top that does nothing to hide the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra.

“Good night, Hee,” you’d call from the door sweetly, leaning against the doorframe with an alluring smile.

His cock would spring awake, loving how you slowly started to use cute little nicknames for him. Heeseung can tell it bothers his wife. Her face twists the tiniest bit any time she hears you call him Hee. Not that he cares. In fact, he was quick to put her in her place when she scolded you for not calling him Mr. Lee. Much to her displeasure, Heeseung made it clear to both of you that you can call him whatever you want.

Making his wife upset was the last thing he cared about because nothing was more important than you and your happiness.

Heeseung usually doesn’t get up so early, but ever since he’s gotten used to sleeping next to his wife, he always notices when she’s not in bed next to him. He looks at his phone to see that it’s four in the morning. Just before sleep can claim him again, he hears faint voices. Even through the sleepy haze, he can tell it’s an unfriendly conversation.

Immediately, his mind goes to you. The thought that something might be happening to you or upsetting you has him springing out of bed. He speedwalks down the hall to your room. You have the second biggest one in the house not only because he wanted you to have the best, but because he wanted you close to him.

“—being serious. Don’t bother Heeseung while I’m away.” His wife’s harsh voice makes his stomach turn unpleasantly. “He’s a busy man, and I don’t want you getting on his nerves.”

“I won’t, mom.” You sound tired.

“Good,” she snaps. “And be grateful that he’s letting you stay here for free. Remember he can change his mind any time.”

Never.

“I know that,” you sound so down that Heeseung wants to gather you in his arms and reassure you that he’d never do something despicable like that. “I won’t get in his way”

“You better not,” your mom hisses. “I mean it, Y/N. We better not get back to find the house smelling like all your little friends.”

Now Heeseung wishes his business trip didn’t fall at the same time as your mother’s. She wouldn’t be berating you so much if he was staying behind. It’s especially infuriating because he explicitly told you it was okay to have friends over, just no boys. You laughed sweetly and promised him just that there would be no one over at all. It made him a bit sad because he didn’t want you being overly cautious.

“I’m not that irresponsible, mom. Like, I’m obviously not going to bring random people to a house that’s not mine.”

That feels like a punch to the gut. Heeseung had worked so hard to make you feel like this was your home, and it pisses him off that your mom is destroying all that work. Never in a million years would he have thought that his biggest obstacle in making you see this house as your own would be your own mother.

“Good. Also, don’t go into my room while I’m gone. I don’t need it smelling like you—”

Heeseung has to walk away. He can’t stand listening to his wife anymore. It makes him sick to his stomach to think that this is what you used to put up with all the time. No wonder you ran off to live with your ex as soon as you were able to.

His wife leaves in a few hours for the airport, and he decides right then and there that he’s going to show you the love you deserve.

Later that morning, Heeseung goes down to the living room to wait for you to wake up. He plans to spend the day with you and make sure you know that he doesn’t mind having you around. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to wait long. You come downstairs shortly after in a pair of sweats and a large shirt, looking unbelievably cute. 

“Good morning, Hee,” you say with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he says in a strained voice. It takes everything in him not to call you a cute pet name like he desperately wants to. “Come watch TV with me.”

Heeseung pats the spot next to him with a pretty smile that makes your heart jerk. You can’t deny that the invitation excites you. And so, in spite of the nerves you feel, you go sit by him.

“I’m happy we can spend some time together,” Heeseung hums as he leans back against the cushions, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “Come here.”

You’re such a good girl that you don’t hesitate to snuggle up under his arm. Heeseung feels completely alive when you make yourself comfortable against him. This is what his life should constantly be like. He drapes his arm across your shoulders and squeezes you against him. Heeseung can’t resist the temptation and presses a gentle kiss on the side of your head. You whimper softly when you feel his lips graze your ear.

Heeseung smirks into your hair and presses another gentle kiss to the tip of your ear. His cock twitches when he sees you press your thighs together but make no attempt to move away. He lets out a pleased hum and starts to press more kisses on the side of your head. Eventually, those sweet pecks start to trail down your neck. Now you can’t hold back your soft sighs of pleasure.

“You feel good, baby?” He wonders against your skin before he starts to bite and suck on it.

You tilt your head to give him more access. “Y-Yeah.”

It’s wrong, but your nipples get hard under your shirt, and you’re starting to feel hot all over. 

“Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You let out a quiet moan, mind swimming. “God, Hee.”

Heeseung nips at your neck. “Be a good girl for daddy, baby. Give me a kiss.”

As if you’re in a trance, you turn to meet his dark eyes before leaning in. Your eyes close when his lips meet yours. His lips are impossibly soft, and you moan when his tongue runs across your bottom lip before he forces it in your mouth. He kisses you with an urgency that makes you feel dizzy. Heeseung groans, cock throbbing as he tastes you to his desire. You’re just as sweet as he thought you’d be.

You whine when your stepdad reluctantly pulls away.

“You want more?” His smile is sweet yet teasing.

The way you nod has his cock twitching in his pants. He gives into your silent request, groaning as he kisses you again. Your tongues tangle together as he devours you, acting like your lips are the sweetest things he’s ever tasted. Every movement is passionate and is making your pussy pulse with need. Once again, it ends too quickly for your liking.

“Another one,” you demand cutely. “Please.”

Your stepdad’s smirk is so attractive, and it matches the heat in his eyes. Heeseung raises his eyebrow at you teasingly before he’s leaning back in to give you what you want. He groans into your mouth again when he feels one of your hands rest on his thigh.

Heeseung kisses you with more need as he slowly guides your hand to his very prominent bulge. He smirks when you gasp into his mouth after feeling how hard he is. You don’t fully pull away, so he uses that to playfully bite your bottom lip. Your cunt clenches at the action as your wide eyes look where your hand is cupping his dick.

“Look how hard you made me, sweetheart,” Heeseung whispers as he presses a gentle kiss on your temple. “Be a good girl and pull my cock out.”

Arousal is clouding your mind, which is why you don’t hesitate to do as he says. You unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants until you see his underwear. Licking your lips, you pull on his waistband while your other hand pulls his dick out.

Heeseung groans deeply as soon as your soft hand touches his hot skin. You’re gawking at it so cutely, and it’s obvious that you can’t look away. He smirks as his cock throbs in your hand.

Your stepdad’s dick is long and girthy. It’s also really fucking pretty—the prettiest one you’ve ever seen. Your mouth waters as you realize that it’s way bigger than Jake’s. The thought of taking it makes your pussy clench in anticipation. Your fingers slowly trail up the prominent veins to tease the leaking head. Fuck. You know it’s going to feel amazing.

“Shit, baby,” Heeseung groans. “Touch me as much as you want. Daddy’s cock is all yours.”

As if to prove his point, his dick twitches in your hand and more precum oozes from his fat tip. You run your fingers through the sticky mess, smearing it along the length as you start to caress the soft skin.

“It’s so big,” you whisper in awe as your clit pulses with need.

Heeseung groans and squeezes you into his side. The hand that’s hanging off your shoulder slowly trails down your body until it’s slipping inside your loose sweats. Heeseung’s cock leaks steadily as he goes to cup your hot cunt. Your stepdad shoves his face into your neck and groans. His lips drag against your skin as you use your hand to work his dick.

“Is this all for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whine as you start to roll your hips into his hand to get some friction. “Never been so wet before.”

Heeseung almost cums from your words alone. He pulls back to watch you grind your needy pussy into his palm. Your nails dig into his bicep as he presses his hand against you harder. Thet soft moans you’re letting out are driving him crazy. He bucks his hips into your hand, and you take the hint and move your hand faster.

“That’s it, baby. Ride my hand like a good little girl. My good girl,” he growls.

“Daddy,” you whine as your juices start to wet his hand.

“God, you’re perfect,” he grunts after kissing your cheek sweetly. “So fucking good for me.”

Slowly, he slips his hand out of your sweats and orders you to pull them off. Your core burns with need as you get off the couch to do as he says. 

“Come here.”

Heeseung pulls you into his lap so your back is against his chest. He holds your hips as his soft lips brush against your ear. 

“Take your panties off.”

You arch your hips up and slide your underwear down your legs until they’re all the way off. Heeseung groans when he sees your bare pussy. Your stepdad hooks your legs over thighs so your pussy is spread and on display for him. He whispers a quiet be good before he slaps his hand on your sensitive clit. You cry out when he spanks your cunt again.

“You like getting your pussy slapped, don’t you, little girl?”

Your toes are curling in your socks as you arch back into Heeseung, grinding down on the dick you feel against your ass. He starts to fuck it between your plump cheeks, groaning at how filthy you are. He fucking loves it.

“Yes, daddy,” you gasp out wantonly. “I love it when you slap my little pussy.”

Heeseung smirks and gives your swollen clit another stinging slap. Your body jerks like you’ve been electrocuted, and you moan loudly from the tingling feeling coursing through your pussy. The smacks keep coming, each harder than the last. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your stepdad keeps spanking your throbbing pussy. At this point, you can’t do anything other than moan. 

Heeseung stops his movements to slip his middle and ring fingers into your tight hole. You’re completely submerged in pleasure as you feel his wedding band glide against your slick walls.

“Fuck, little girl,” Heeseung laughs delightedly. “Even your mom doesn’t get this wet for me. You’re just a perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

You clench hard around his fingers at those words. Your hips are rolling, grinding your ass into his wet cock while you fuck his fingers deeper into your pussy.

“Oh?” Heeseung’s voice gets deeper. “You like hearing that your stepdad likes you better than your mom?”

You’re moaning again as you dizzily nod your head. “Yes, fuck. Tell me how you like my pussy better than hers, daddy.”

Heeseung moans, fucking his cock faster against your plump ass. “Shit, baby. You know you’re better than your mom. Ever since she introduced me to you, I knew you were better.”

“Daddy!” You moan loudly as his fingers continue to plunge into you at a quick pace.

Heeseung feels you tightening around his fingers. Your cunt is so hot and tight, and he knows it’ll feel better wrapped around his cock. He starts to plant wet kisses on your neck, wanting to push you over the edge.

“You gonna cum for daddy, baby?”

Those words are enough to get you to do just that. The coil in your stomach snaps as you cum around your stepdad’s long fingers. 

Seeing you cum on his lap helps Heeseung reach his own climax. He cums with a groan of your name, grinding his cock into your soft ass as he releases his thick cum on your lower back. Your stepdad slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy with a lewd wet sound before bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them. His moan makes your core throb all over again.

“So fucking sweet.”

Before you can say anything in response, Heeseung’s ringtone cuts through the silence. He tugs you closer as he goes to answer the phone. You’re too distracted to listen to what’s being said, but you come to your senses when Heeseung grumbles something about heading to the airport right away.

“You’re leaving?”

It kills Heeseung to hear how vulnerable you sound. He buries his face in your neck again, scenting you to reassure you that him leaving has nothing to do with what just happened.

“The clients want to meet sooner than planned. I have to go.”

You can feel his pout against your skin, and your heart thrums with fondness. Heeseung has always been unexpectedly cute in your eyes. That’s why it was so easy for you to give into him.

“Okay,” you relax against him. “I understand.”

As always, you’re a perfect angel through and through. Heeseung presses a soft kiss to your neck before he helps you stand. Immediately, he helps you clean up before going upstairs to shower. He really doesn’t want to leave, but he can’t act irresponsibly no matter how badly he wants to. And now that he knows you want him just as much as he wants you, he’ll have plenty of time to make you all his.

Once Heeseung has all his things, he goes downstairs to find you waiting for him. He gathers you in his arms, not really wanting to let you go. When he pulls back, he gives you a passionate kiss to remind you that he doesn’t regret what’s happened between you two.

“When you get back, can we play some more?” You ask hopefully.

Heeseung grunts softly at the imagery he’s creating in his head. “Of course, baby. I’m all yours now.”

Coming back home from a long and tiring business trip isn’t anything new for Heeseung. What is new is the excitement he has to get home. He knows you’ll be waiting for him, and he can’t wait to show you how much he’s missed you.

The excitement he feels is ruined completely when he gets off his plane and finds his wife waiting for him. It’s an unpleasant surprise, but she doesn’t realize just how badly she ruined the day. Heeseung almost wishes he would’ve asked for a divorce before he boarded the plane. At least then he wouldn’t have had to deal with her right when he got back home.

“How was the trip, honey?”

“Fine,” Heeseung’s voice is curt, but once again, his wife seems impervious to his obvious attitude.

He doesn’t ask about her trip, but she tells him anyway. She talks all the way back to the house as if Heeseung is actually listening to her. In reality, he’s an expert in blocking her out at this point. This time is way easier since all his thoughts are filled with nothing but you.

The house is quiet when they arrive, and Heeseung barely holds back from calling your name. Your mom is obviously not interested in seeing you because she suggests going out for dinner after they go upstairs and put their things away. He doesn’t feel bad for turning down her suggestion with the excuse of being jet lagged.

As soon as Heeseung and his wife get on the second floor, the overwhelming scent of an omega in heat hits them. Heeseung’s cock comes alive instantly, getting completely hard in less than a minute. Without waiting for his wife to follow, he goes directly toward your room where the pungent smell is coming from.

Heeseung throws your door open without bothering to knock. What he finds is devastating to him. You’re laying in the middle of the large bed in nothing but a large shirt, eyes screwed shut as you tremble in pain. The thin sheen of sweat lining your forehead is evidence that you’ve been in heat for a while now.

Your eyes slowly open and settle directly on your stepdad. They stare at him before slowly trailing down to the large bulge in his pants. You lick your lips, and it takes everything in Heeseung not to rip your clothes off and take you right then and there.

“Y/N!” His wife’s angry voice brings him out of his debased fantasy. “Why the hell are you in heat?”

Heeseung looks back at his wife with an incredulous glare. So many things are going through his mind, but one question keeps coming up. Why is she so angry over something that’s natural?

“Sorry, mom,” you say through a pant. “I ran out of the suppressants you gave me.”

Before you can continue, Heeseung turns to your mother with a murderous look on his face. “You gave her suppressants?”

An omega taking suppressants is practically unheard of since they cause so many health issues. The drugs are practically poison, and the fact that your own mother was giving them to you made him sick to his stomach. It makes him think back to the first time he met you. Now he understands why she was so determined to hide what she was so insistent on giving you.

“They help her,” his wife says frantically. “But that’s not the point right now. She has to leave so her heat doesn’t affect you.”

Heeseung growls under his breath. Over his dead body will you leave his house looking and smelling how you do.

Your mom turns her nasty glare back on you. “Call Jake and have him pick you up. I’m sure he won’t have any problem helping you through your heat—”

“Get out,” Heeseung spits, barely controlling his rage.

How dare his wife suggest that you ask another man to help you through your heat? No one except him is ever going to see you like this.

“What?” His wife’s stunned expression only makes him growl impatiently.

“I’m going to help Y/N through her heat.”

Your mom’s eyes widen in anger, and she glares over at you like what’s happening is your fault. Normally, you’d feel guilty or anxious about upsetting your mom, but the pain isn’t letting you think straight. You need Heeseung’s cock, and you don’t care if it’s going to hurt your mom in the process.

Heeseung ignores his wife and goes to you. He sits down on the bed next to you before pulling you on his lap. A soft moan of relief cuts through the tense silence as his hard bulge presses up right against where you need him the most. You feel so hot all over, and your head is clouded with such potent arousal that you forget your mom is still standing in the room until Heeseung looks at her over your shoulder.

“I told you to get out,” he growls. A mean smirk takes over his face. “Unless you want to watch me knot your daughter.”

You whimper and roll your hips into Heeseung. The fact that he’s saying he’s going to give you his knot is making you gush with more slick. It excites you that he’s going to help you, and to think he doesn’t care to hide it from your mom makes a deep satisfaction settle inside you.

His wife is looking on with tears in her eyes. She’s disgusted and enraged, but she knows no matter what she says or does, Heeseung isn’t going to change his mind.

“It hurts, daddy,” you whine as you grind your pussy on his clothed dick, no longer thinking to spare any of your mom’s feelings. “Want you to make me feel better.”

You swivel your hips and press down harder onto his hard cock. With a throaty groan, Heeseung grabs your ass to help you bounce on his bulge. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s going to give you exactly what you need.”

His voice dips into a low moan when you lean forward to lick and bite at the sensitive spot on his neck. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your panty clad pussy, and it makes you whine.

Your mom flinches when she sees Heeseung’s glare from over your shoulder. It’s a silent command for her to get out, and she finally does. She doesn’t get far, only being able to take a few steps out of your room before she collapses on the floor with a quiet sob.

“Fuck, little girl. Couldn’t wait until your mom was out of the room, huh?” His laugh is cruel, but it only turns you on.

“Don’t care,” you whine before leaning in to smash your mouth against his. “Just want your cock.”

You gently nip his bottom lip before messily forcing your tongue into his mouth. There’s a desperation you’ve never felt before as you grind down on his thick cock. The fact that he’s leaking with enough precum to stain his pants is driving you more insane. You keep rocking your hips so your clit rubs against the rough material of his jeans.

“Yeah?” Heeseung groans when you pull away. He continues to help you grind your messy pussy on his bulge. “You need daddy to stuff your little pussy?”

Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy slowly. He’s grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit to get you more riled up than you already are. 

Eventually, Heeseung decides he needs to prep you. Because as badly as he wants you, he can’t forget that this is your first real heat. So, he pulls you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed.

“I need to taste you properly, sweetheart. Last time wasn’t enough.”

A tingle goes straight to your pussy when he pulls your large shirt off and tosses it across your room. Heeseung buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your pussy lips, allowing your stepdad to lick at your clit easily. 

“Oh, daddy!” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair.

He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before roughly rips your underwear off to lap at your leaking hole. 

“You taste so fucking good, little girl,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl. “Fuck. I could eat your little cunt all day.”

“Daddy, please,” you grind against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit. You cry out wantonly when your stepdad softly sucks the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before he starts to gently suckle on it.

“It feels so fucking good,” you moan loudly, thighs falling open as far as they can go.

Heeseung growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His hands trail up the underside of your thighs to push your legs to your chest. You moan when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He quickly dives back in, burying his face in your soaked pussy. Another loud cry tumbles out of you when he starts to lick and suck on your sensitive nub.

“Such a sweet pussy,” Heeseung moans.

His tongue languidly laps at your wet folds, eyes locked with yours from where he’s lying between your legs. Your stepdad’s hands come up to the inside of your thighs and press down, leaving you spread open for his hungry mouth. The sight of his beautiful face buried in your cunt makes you drip with more slick. Heeseung keeps licking into your slick hole like a starved man, desperate to not waste one drop of your sweet essence. You’re crying out for him as your hips roll into his mouth. He pulls away slightly to spit into your pussy again before fucking his spit into your clenching hole.

You moan and pull on his hair. The dark strands are wrapped around your fingers to help guide his face to where you want it most. Heeseung smirks against you and starts to press wet, open mouthed kisses on your throbbing clit. He sucks the swollen bud into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it over and over again. Your stepdad hums into your pussy, suckling on your clit softly as he indulges in your sweet taste.

“I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum, daddy!" you moan loudly.

“Cum all over my face, sweetheart. Show daddy how good he makes you feel,” your stepdad says before he presses his face between your folds to suck your clit back into his mouth.

“Daddy!” You moan loudly as you cum.

You jolt as your slick completely coats his lower jaw and slowly starts to drip down his chin. He looks so hot covered in your juices that another wave of arousal hits you with full force.

“Messy fucking girl,” Heeseung grunts as he starts to take off his clothes.

Your mouth waters when you see his big cock slap his lower abdomen. Since he’s been gone, you’ve been dreaming about that pretty dick every night. 

Heeseung goes to kiss you roughly, eagerly shoving his tongue into your mouth. Tasting yourself makes you arch up into his body. Fuck. You’re so turned on and desperate that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t shove his cock inside you soon.

Seeing you so needy makes Heeseung pull back slightly to stroke his cock. Your eyes follow his movements, and you lick your lips when you see the amount of precum beading at the tip. With a deep groan, your stepdad notches his leaking tip against your clenching hole. Heeseung groans as he glides the fat head up your slit to smack it against your clit.

The feeling of the hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy makes you whine desperately. He keeps dragging his dripping cock against your throbbing cunt repeatedly, loving how you’re squirming against him. Teasing you is everything he imagined it would be, and he makes a note to do it often from now on. Heeseung thrusts his hips to rub his cock through the slick dripping from your cunt, moaning at how easily it coats the length of his cock.

“Look how deep daddy’s cock is gonna go, baby.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it.

Heeseung uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your unfocused eyes take in how far his cock will reach inside your needy cunt. It pulses and throbs, and more slick leaks out of you.

“Oh god, daddy. It’s too big,” you mewl even though the thought of having his monster cock inside you turns you on to no end. 

With an endeared chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide it across your pudgy bud. The bulbous head grinds against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping more slick onto your sheets.

“Your pretty pussy’s just small, sweetheart,” he coos softly before he licks a broad stripe up your neck. “But don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna stretch out your cute little cunt so you can take my knot.”

Those filthy words make you whine and buck your hips desperately.

“Ready to take this cock, little girl?”

Without waiting for an answer, he slips the head of his dick inside your clenching hole. He presses into your pussy slowly, and it makes you moan wantonly as you instantly feel some of your pain fade. Your moan breaks off into a gasp when you feel the burning stretch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be tight,” he laughs in delight. “A tight little pussy for daddy.”

You dig your nails into his back, eyes rolling into your skull as his girthy cock stretches your cunt. “It’s too big, daddy.”

“Too big?” Heeseung repeats as he gently bites your neck. “I guess daddy’s just going to have to train you to take his big cock then, huh?”

With that, he sinks his cock another inch into your clenching hole. Your walls clench down on his dick and make his hips stutter. His veiny cock feels so fucking good that you that the unbearable pain fades instantly. You feel so full and stretched out, but you want more. Your body reacts by getting wetter, easing the way for Heeseung to bully his cock further into your pussy until he bottoms out.

“I’m gonna spend all week training you, little girl,” he promises. “Daddy’s staying buried in this cute little pussy until you’re all nice and bred.”

You moan high in your throat, walls clamping down around Heeseung’s thick cock as you cum hard.

“Oh, fuck me,” he laughs, extremely pleased. “You like that? Like that I’m gonna breed this sweet pussy all week?”

He pulls his cock halfway out then slowly sinks back into your wet and willing body. You mewl as your cream coats his cock. 

“Yes, daddy! Want you to stuff me full all week long!”

Heeseung starts fucking his cock deeper into your pussy, eager to give you what you want. He reaches between your bodies and begins to rub and pinch your clit. “I’m gonna fuck you through your heat, sweetheart. Gonna cream this pussy over and over again.”

You’re letting out filthy moans like your mom isn’t right outside your room crying her eyes out because you’re fucking her husband. Not that you care. All you can think about is the mind-numbing pleasure you’re receiving.

“Cum on my cock again, baby,” Heeseung groans as he spears his cock into your sloppy hole. “I want you to squeeze me with that hot little cunt while I cum in you.”

You cry out loudly as his leaking tips rams into your g-spot. Your stepdad’s girthy cock is rutting into your squelching cunt mercilessly, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. Heeseung’s fingers circle your clit until your pussy is clenching and spasming around him again.

“Are you gonna give me your cum, daddy?” Your eyes shine with anticipation. “Your knot?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna give you a nice hot load. Then, I’m gonna knot you so it takes. That’s how much I love you.”

His words make you gush more slick, eyes rolling back as the musky scent of sex fills the room. You cry out, feeling feral all over again.

“Fuck yes!” You scream in pleasure. “Cream my little pussy, daddy! Want it so fucking bad!”

“Yeah? Then let’s make it easier.”

Without letting you answer, Heeseung pulls out of you with a lewd squelching sound and flips you onto your hands and knees. One of his hands presses down on your back while the other grips your hip to raise your ass up. Your stepdad’s big cock slides into your hot cunt much easier in this position. He bottoms out with a loud groan as you claw at your sheets.

Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Heeseung’s big cock into your dripping pussy. You feel your slick dripping down your thighs and coat his heavy balls.

“Want you to knot me,” you slur, nails digging into your plush bedding. “Want your knot, daddy!”

He growls and starts to slam his cock into your sloppy pussy, making you cry out from the rough movement. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick as he keeps spearing you open. The way you moan and mewl for him only makes him fuck you harder.

“Good girl,” he groans loudly, making you shiver all over. “My good little girl.”

“Daddy,” you whimper as your pussy walls flutter around his thick length.

Heeseung’s cock throbs inside you. He pulls out halfway before roughly slamming his dick back into your sopping wet hole. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says as he squeezes the globes of your ass. Your eyes roll back as his fingers dig into your skin. “This perfect pussy was made for me. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes!” You gasp out in agreement as Heeseung pounds your cunt hard. “This little pussy is all yours, daddy!”

Heeseung moans loudly and spanks your bouncing ass. You scream, pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your third orgasm takes you both by surprise. 

“Good girl,” he coos, grabbing the fat of your ass with both hands again. “Such a good fucking girl. Gripping me with your tight pussy and working for my knot like a good little slut.”

Your body trembles as Heeseung keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot. His fat tip slams against your cervix, and you can’t stop crying out in pleasure.

“Cum one more time for me, pretty girl,” your stepdad roughly spanks your ass again, making you whine. “Just give me one more, and I’ll knot this pretty pussy so you’re nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred until you’re stuffed to the brim?”

“Please, daddy!” You cry out, ass bouncing back against his rough thrusts. “Want your knot! Want it so fucking bad!”

One of his hands slides down your body to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit. 

“That’s it, baby.” Heeseung hunches over your back to kiss your neck. His tongue laps against your sweaty skin right over the sensitive spot that’s meant to take his mark. “I feel you getting tighter, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

As Heeseung keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as your stepdad curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum,” he pants into your neck. “Take my knot. Fuck. Take it.”

You cry out loudly. That desperate noise has Heeseung fucking his cock deep inside you until he cums.

“That’s it,” he’s groaning and panting as he licks at your neck. “Milk my cock, little girl.”

You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside you. Ropes and ropes of his hot seed spill into your pussy, and you love that his knot is keeping it stuffed inside you.

“So good for me,” Heeseung groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back. He starts to scent you. “Such a perfect omega. So fucking perfect.”

You sigh in content, body going limp as Heeseung continues to fill your pussy with load after load. You’ve heard that alphas cum more than usual when helping an omega in heat, but you didn’t expect it to be this much. Not that you’re complaining. You’re taking every drop he gives you with a blissful smile on your face

Your stepdad grinds his dick inside your pussy until the steady stream of cum stops filling you. He slowly shifts your bodies until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably. Heeseung buries his nose in your neck as his hands start to caress your body. 

“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.

“Good.” He says before he kisses your neck.

You mewl when he keeps pressing soft kisses on your neck and dragging his teeth over a sensitive spot that no one else has dared to touch. Heeseung keeps you two in the same position until his knot slowly deflates.

You whine when he slowly pulls out. Heeseung watches with dark eyes as his cum leaks out of your pussy. He uses two of his fingers to scoop it up and smear it across your clit. You mewl as slick starts to drip out of you again. Heeseung takes the opportunity to shove your legs open and rub your clit until your body arches off the bed. A mix of slick and cum gushes from your pussy as you climax again.

“Let me lick that pussy, baby,” Heeseung murmurs as he starts kissing his way down your body. “Want to suck on that swollen little bud until you’re creaming my tongue.”

“Fuck,” your whine is high-pitched and needy. “Do it, daddy. I want your mouth on my pussy.”

He groans and sloppily kisses your slit in thanks. When he pulls back a bit, you see his lips coated with your juices. Your pussy pulses and clenches in eagerness.

“So messy, sweetheart.” 

With that, your stepdad pushes your thighs against the bed to keep you spread for him. He repeatedly plants wet kisses on your pulsing clit, worshipping you until you’re writhing against him. His teeth scrape and nip your pudgy nub as his dark eyes watch you carefully. 

Heeseung spanks your pussy when you keep squirming. He smirks when you jolt with a loud cry. Slick pours out of you, filling the room with your lovely scent. It’s your body’s way of signaling that it’s ready to be knotted again. 

“What a needy little girl,” he coos as he blows air on your soaked cunt. “Just desperate for me to clean up this sloppy pussy, hm?”

“Yes, yes!” You moan, pussy throbbing with need. “Eat my pussy, daddy. Lick me clean.”

“Dirty little slut,” Heeseung groans before he slaps your wet cunt again. “I’m gonna stay here with you all night. Keep my tongue buried in your tight hole until you squirt all over me.”

“Fuck. Yes, yes!” you moan as you arch your hips up to entice him. “Let me cum all over your face, daddy!”

Heeseung smirks and buries his face in your cunt to give you what you want.

You lose complete track of time as Heeseung makes you cum on his tongue over and over again. After the second orgasm, you start squirting like he wants. He’s so delighted that he keeps fucking his tongue into you, indulging himself in your addicting taste. You’re happy to lay there and let him eat your pussy until you’re nothing more than a gushing mess.

“Good girl,” Heeseung moans into your cunt, his face completely drenched in your slick.

You mewl in response, hoping he’s had enough fun playing with your pussy to give you his cock. He flips you over and arches your back so your ass and pussy are on full display for him. He groans when he sees your soaked pussy and thighs. 

“Hee,” you whimper desperately. “Want your cock.”

“Spread those legs for me, baby. Show daddy that sloppy pussy.”

With a loud whine, you bend forward more and spread your thighs apart further to give him a better view of your holes. Your pussy is dripping with slick, and Heeseung commits the filthy sight to memory. 

“Daddy,” you whimper. “Please.”

Your stepdad lets out a deep laugh before his hands slide down your back to cup your ass and spread you open even more. Heeseung groans deeply.

“God, baby. I’m never gonna get tired of seeing this hot cunt gushing for me,” he tells you with a pleased hum. “I’m gonna breed this little pussy all night.”

“Please,” you beg through a moan, pressing your ass back against him. “Want it so bad, daddy.”

Heeseung rubs his cock against your soaked pussy lips, gathering your wetness all over his length. He licks his lips, loving how you feel against him. His cock throbs because he can tell how badly you’re aching to be fucked and knotted and stuffed full of cum.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re gonna get my knot. I’m gonna stuff your little pussy to the brim.” Heeseung promises before he slams his cock into your clenching heat.

Your moan is loud as he completely bottoms out into your needy pussy. Heeseung doesn’t let you adjust and pulls all the way out before slamming back inside. Your stepdad’s instincts completely take over, his only goal being to knot and breed your pussy. 

You cry out when you feel your cunt stretching around his dick. He groans and drapes his chest across your back, hips slamming against your ass. The lewd sounds of skin slapping and the wet squelching of your pussy fills the room. You whine loudly, turned on from the fact that your mom can hear all the filthy noises.

“I’m gonna keep you knotted for hours, make sure it takes,” Heeseung groans before he starts to nip at your jawline, 

“Fuck!” You mewl wantonly. “I want it, daddy! Want you to breed my pussy so fucking bad!”

Your legs start to shake when Heeseung reaches around to play with your clit. He bites down on your neck and starts spearing his fat cock into your clenching hole. He fucks you deep and fast, his slowly expanding knot brushing your entrance with every rock of his hips. You can only lay there and take it, moaning and whining in pleasure as he fucks your pussy. His cock pounds your soaked cunt, thick head knocking against your cervix. 

“Good girl,” he groans, biting at your ear. “Good girls deserve to have their cute little pussies bred, don’t they, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” you cry as he rubs your clit faster. “I’m gonna cum, daddy. Gonna cream your fat knot.”

“That’s it, little girl,” he keeps rubbing fast circles on your swollen bud. “Cum all over me. Show me how much you want me to fill your pretty pussy.”

Heeseung starts to bite and suck on your neck as you moan for him. His hips snap against yours as he roughly fucks you into the mattress. With every thrust, his balls slap against your slippery clit until he’s pulling another orgasm from your exhausted body. 

“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had,” Heeseung groans, pulling out to slam back in, dick bullying into your swollen, fluttering walls. “Goddamn. You’re so fucking tight. My little girl just loves her stepdad’s dick so much.”

“I fucking love it, daddy!” You cry out. “Love your big cock so much!”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm overtakes your senses. Heeseung groans as your cream stains his cock. Your body trembles as your pussy milks his dick. His hips piston against your ass, dragging your orgasm out until you spiral into a second one. Your stepdad groans, hips pumping his cock into your dripping cunt harshly.

Heeseung buries his cock deep in your spasming hole, knot locking you together as his cum floods your cunt, breeding your pussy full. He groans your name as he cums, walls milking him to shoot hot rope after rope of hot cum inside your little pussy. Pleasure consumes your entire body as you feel each spurt of his thick cum pumping into your cunt. 

“Taking it so good, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, tongue licking the sweat beading at your skin. “Such a perfect little slut.”

You hum dazedly, body sinking down across your bed as you feel each spurt of his thick seed filling your pussy. 

“So full, daddy,” you mewl, legs shaking as he softly ruts his knot further into you.

That’s how you spend the rest of your night. Being knotted by your stepdad over and over again until you can’t handle anymore. 

It’s almost dawn by the time your mom hears all the filthy moans and groans from your room stop. By now, she’s ran her tears dry, and she thinks she might not be able to cry for a long time. With a heavy heart, she gets up from her bed and walks to your room. The heartbreaking sight of you laying on her husband’s chest, sleeping peacefully as he caresses your head is like a breaking point.

There’s a blanket draped over your bodies, but she can te you’re both still naked. She feels sick at the thought of her husband’s cock still being lodged inside you.

Heeseung turns his dark eyes on her, not at all affected by her puffy, bloodshot eyes. Her pitiful face only makes him feel disgusted.

“You’re not coming to bed?” Her voice is hoarse and weak.

“I’m still knotted to your daughter.”

A lone tear slips down her cheek.

“Heeseung—”

“You should leave. Y/N’s heat is more intense because of how long it was suppressed.” Heeseung’s voice is cold. “We can discuss the divorce after I finish helping her through it.”

His wife sobs, but he doesn’t feel sorry. He can’t. Especially not now that he’s finally had you in the way he wants. She turns and walks away from him like a zombie. He groans when you shift against him in your sleep. Your movements tug gently on his knot, and it makes his cock throb and twitch in need.

Heeseung hums in content. When you get up, he’s going to knot you all over again. Except this time, he’ll do it on his own bed since that’s where you’ll be sleeping soon.

As soon as your mom gets out of his house, he’s going to have you take her place. No matter how badly she begs, Heeseung won’t change his mind because he knows that there’s no getting rid of this feeling he has for you, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to keep you at his side forever.

[mintseung]

BIRTHDAY SEX ! ( park jongseong )

SYN ❕ don’t need candles or cake, just your body to make

★ female!reader────── 85O words 🐚 overall smut ( 18+ ) MDNI

the second jay walks in, he knows something’s different.

the apartment is quiet, but not empty. the air smells warm—faint jasmine, a trace of candle wax, and something else. something softer. like the skin of your neck when you’ve just put lotion on.

he drops his bag by the door and looks toward the hallway, eyes narrowing. the lights are low, the usual overheads turned off, replaced by something gentler—amber and flickering, bleeding from under the bedroom door.

he pushes it open slowly.

and stops breathing for a second.

you’re sitting in the center of his bed, legs tucked neatly under you, wearing the kind of lace that doesn’t hide anything—just hints, just enough to burn. your shoulders are bare. your lips are glossed. there’s a single candle glowing on the nightstand, casting light across your cheekbones and the top of your thighs. the room smells like you. like home. like need.

you smile, but there’s a nervous twitch to it.

“happy birthday,” you say, barely above a whisper.

his gaze drags over your body like a hand, slow and purposeful. his chest rises, his jaw flexes.

“what’s this?” he asks, voice already heavier.

“a surprise,” you say softly. “i wanted to give you tonight. however you want it.”

jay doesn’t move right away. he just stares. you watch the shift in his expression as the weight of your words lands—first surprise, then curiosity, then something darker.

he steps closer.

“and you’re sure?” he asks, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket. “you’re giving me everything tonight?”

“yes,” you whisper, heat blooming in your chest. “only you.”

his tongue drags across his bottom lip, slow.

“then lie back for me.”

you do.

his knees sink into the bed beside your legs. his hands move over you like he’s not just undressing you, but *unwrapping* something meant only for him. he pushes the slip up, up, past your waist, until the lace pools around your ribs.

he watches every inch of skin like he’s cataloging it. committing it to memory. like your body is a gift, and tonight, he gets to be greedy.

“eyes on me,” he murmurs, dragging two fingers slowly down your thigh. “i want to see everything when i touch you.”

he leans down, kisses your collarbone—just a brush. then your sternum. then your stomach.

his mouth is hot and soft and unhurried.

his hands press your thighs apart gently, fingertips trailing the sensitive inside edges.

“you’re already wet,” he murmurs. “you were waiting like this?”

“for you,” you breathe.

he groans under his breath, leaning in—tongue sliding between your folds, slow and precise, tasting like he has all night.

your head falls back. his grip tightens around your hips when you try to move, grounding you.

“stay still,” he says against your skin, voice rough, teasing. “just take it.”

he works you open with his mouth, pulling moans from your throat like he owns them. your hands claw at the sheets, every muscle tight with restraint. he doesn't stop until you’re panting, thighs trembling, dangerously close.

you gasp his name, desperate—“jay—please—”

he pulls away. his lips shine. his eyes are blown wide with want.

“not yet,” he says. “you’ll come on my cock.”

he strips slow, letting you watch every inch of skin reveal. the slope of his chest. the line of his stomach. the thick length of him, hard and flushed and heavy in his palm as he strokes himself once, twice.

then he’s crawling over you again, settling between your legs like he belongs there.

“tell me what you want,” he murmurs, voice dragging like velvet.

“you. all of you,” you say, breathless. “please.”

he groans low, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, collecting slick. then he pushes in—one long, smooth thrust that fills you completely. your back arches, a sound caught in your throat. the stretch is perfect. overwhelming.

“fuck, baby,” he breathes. “you feel—so fucking good. you’re mine.”

he rolls his hips, deep and steady. his hand cups the side of your face as he moves, thumb brushing your cheek, even as his pace builds.

“say it,” he murmurs. “say who you belong to.”

“you,” you gasp. “i’m yours, jay.”

he fucks you like he needs the words branded onto you. his other hand grabs your thigh, lifts it higher, opens you wider. he kisses you between thrusts—messy, open-mouthed, like he needs to feel every part of you at once.

your moans get breathier, your walls tighten around him.

“don’t stop—i’m close—”

his rhythm doesn't falter. “come with me, baby. right now.”

you fall over the edge together—his name breaking from your lips as your body clenches around him, his groan deep as he spills inside you, pressing his forehead to yours, still rocking gently through it.

you’re both breathless, skin damp, hearts pounding in sync.

he collapses beside you and immediately pulls you into his arms, your head on his chest.

his voice is soft, but still low. “that was the best birthday of my life.”

you smile, eyes closed, fingers tracing his ribs.

“i know. i planned it that way.”

vee : i’m late but, happy birthday to jay! i yearn for him oh god CLICK FOR PALESTINE ( don’t forgot to rb and follow, xo )

[mintseung]

in the margins of us. [heeseung]

⸻

PAIRINGS: annoying!cocky!heeseung x feisty!bookworm!reader

GENRE: fluff, cheesy teasing, fake dating, slow-burn romance

WORD COUNT: ~3k

SYNOPSIS: heeseung's always been cocky, charming, and annoyingly good at getting reactions—especially from the quiet bookworm who never plays along. what started as teasing turns complicated when a fake dating rumor forces them closer, and years of hidden feelings start slipping through the cracks.

⸻

“You know,” Heeseung drawled, leaning over your table at the campus café.

“For someone who reads a lot, you sure never read the signs that I’m madly in love with you.”

You didn’t look up from your book.

“Bold of you to assume I care,” you said coolly, flipping a page.

Heeseung grinned. God, he loved this.

Everyone knew you as the quiet one.

Always at the library. Always nose-deep in something that wasn’t real life. Calm, sarcastic, untouchable.

Except to him.

To him, you were fun.

“You care a little,” he teased, sliding into the seat across from you like he belonged there.

You sighed. Loudly. “Don’t you have a football to chase or an ego to feed?”

“I did that this morning. Now I’m here for my daily dose of rejection,” he replied, chin resting on his palm as he watched you with a shameless smirk.

“You’re kind of cute when you try to insult me.”

You looked up just to glare at him. “And you’re kind of stupid when you think I don’t mean them.”

Heeseung clutched his chest. “Oof. Right in the heart.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward. Slightly. Barely. But he caught it.

He always did.

Because for the past three years, Heeseung had been hopelessly, ridiculously into you.

It started back in your first year, when he was failing physics and you were that mysterious, smart girl who sat behind him.

You barely spoke two words in class, but when he’d slumped next to you in the library, half-dead from stress, you’d wordlessly handed him your color-coded notes and told him to stop chewing his pen like it was edible.

He never forgot that.

Nor the way your handwriting curled, or the way you tapped your pencil when you were thinking, or the fact that you didn’t laugh when he said something dumb—but you did laugh when he muttered under his breath about the professor’s hair.

Since then, bothering you had become his favorite pastime.

“Okay,” he said now, stealing one of your fries, “but real talk—why don’t you ever hang out with anyone?”

“I do,” you replied without missing a beat. “With books. They don’t interrupt me every five seconds with flirtatious nonsense.”

“That wasn’t flirtation,” he said, biting into the fry.

“That was a declaration of love.”

You snorted. “Then your standards for love are tragic.”

Heeseung leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was telling you a secret.

“You say that, but you haven’t kicked me out of your life yet. You secretly like me.”

You looked at him.

Deadpan.

Flat.

Expressionless.

But your ears were pink.

“Delusion,” you said crisply. “It’s a real disease. You should get that checked.”

“Feisty,” he murmured, grinning.

He loved when you got like this—snappy and quick with your words but never cruel.

You never actually wanted him gone. If you did, he’d have backed off years ago.

You liked the banter.

He knew it.

One time, you’d even brought him coffee when he’d fallen asleep on his textbook.

You claimed it was “because you hated seeing him drool on paper,” but he still remembered the way you’d quietly nudged it toward him, pretending it wasn’t a big deal.

He saved the cup.

Still had it on his shelf.

Today, though, he wanted to try something.

He stood up abruptly, walked around the table—and before you could ask what the hell he was doing, he leaned down and plucked the book from your hands.

“Excuse me?” you blinked.

“Yeah, no. We’re doing this,” he said, holding the book just out of your reach.

“You’ve been hiding in stories too long. Time to make one with me.”

“That’s the stupidest line I’ve ever heard,” you said, flushing despite yourself. “And I read fantasy romances.”

Heeseung only smirked, still not giving the book back.

“What’ll it take for me to get this back?” you asked, arms crossed, unimpressed.

“A date,” he said casually. “One coffee. Thirty minutes. You can even bring a book to ignore me if I get boring.”

You stared at him. Long. Hard. Judging.

Then, finally—

“Fine,” you said, snatching your book when he lowered it.

“But if you say anything remotely cheesy during it, I’m walking out.”

Heeseung was already smiling like he’d won the lottery. “Noted. I’ll save the poetry for the second date.”

You made a disgusted sound, but he caught the small smile before you turned away.

As you gathered your things, he called after you,

“Hey, remember when you helped me with physics?”

“No,” you lied.

“Well, I do. Just saying—falling for someone because they handed you color-coded notes might be the lamest origin story ever, but it’s mine.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “You’re actually the worst.”

“And yet,” he said, winking, “you’re still going on a date with me.”

You didn’t answer.

But he could tell you were smiling again.

⸻

You regretted saying yes the second you walked into the library.

Because sitting there, at your usual table like he belonged there, was Heeseung—slouched in the chair, spinning a pen between his fingers, and smirking the second he saw you.

“Hey, stranger,” he greeted. “Decided to bless me with your presence?”

You dropped your bag on the chair across from him. “I came for silence. Not to babysit.”

He leaned forward dramatically, elbows on the table. “Don’t worry, I brought my indoor voice. Just for you.”

“You are the reason libraries need rules.”

“And you are the reason I passed Physics,” he said, still smiling like that line bought him lifelong immunity from your sass. “It’s only fair I stalk you forever now.”

You opened your book, ignoring him, but he stayed quiet for once. A small win.

For about five minutes.

“You know, if I were a book, I’d want to be shelved next to you.”

You didn’t look up. “If you were a book, I’d use you to level a wobbly table.”

“Ouch.”

“You’ll live.”

He chuckled under his breath and leaned back.

Truthfully, he loved this version of you the most—the one who fought back, who didn’t let him win so easily. It kept him on his toes.

The silence returned. Peaceful. Focused. You almost forgot he was there.

Until someone walked by.

And said hi to Heeseung.

A girl.

Pretty.

Wearing your major’s hoodie.

Your eyes twitched upward for half a second—just enough to see the way her hand brushed Heeseung’s arm when she said his name.

Heeseung didn’t even react. He just nodded politely and turned back to his notes.

But of course he noticed your reaction.

Barely a flicker of your eyes. A slight shift in your tone when you said, “Didn’t know you had fans in the library.”

He blinked. “That sounded like jealousy.”

“It’s not,” you said too fast.

“Sure,” he hummed, smug as hell. “But if it was… would that be the worst thing?”

You stared at him, expression unreadable.

“Depends,” you said slowly. “Are you this annoying to everyone, or am I special?”

“You’re special,” he said instantly. Too easily. Then quieter, “Always have been.”

You blinked. Your stomach did something weird. You didn’t like it.

He didn’t press it. Just smiled and said, “So… still on for coffee tomorrow?”

You rolled your eyes. “If you behave.”

“I won’t.”

“I know.”

Heeseung laughed.

And you smiled when he wasn’t looking.

⸻

Your coffee date wasn’t really a date.

Heeseung called it that. You didn’t correct him.

You met outside the café, arms crossed, prepared for war.

He arrived two minutes late. “Sorry. I had to look good.”

You blinked. “For what? You’re just meeting me.”

Heeseung grinned. “Exactly.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost fell out.

He ordered your drink without asking—memorized it from last time.

When you raised an eyebrow at him, he just shrugged. “I pay attention.”

“Creepy,” you muttered.

“Romantic,” he countered.

“Delusional.”

“You keep saying that,” he said, sitting across from you again, “but here you are.”

Touché.

The conversation drifted. You told him about your classes.

He told you about his band’s practice. You made fun of his guitar pick collection. He said your bookmarks were ‘personality traits.’ It was oddly easy.

Then, it shifted.

“So,” he said, swirling his drink. “We’re fake dating.”

You choked. “What.”

“My roommate saw us leave the library together and asked if we were a thing. I said yes to mess with him.”

You blinked. “And…?”

“And now people are talking,” he said casually, like this wasn’t a bomb. “So I figured we could just roll with it.”

You stared. “Why the hell would I pretend to date you?”

He leaned closer. “Because you like me.”

“I tolerate you.”

“Same thing.”

You wanted to throw your drink at him.

But your heart was beating too fast.

“Fine,” you said. “Fake dating. One week. Then you tell them we broke up.”

“Cool,” he said. “I’ll try not to fall harder during that time.”

You hated him.

You really didn’t.

⸻

You never thought you’d be walking down campus with Lee Heeseung’s arm slung lazily around your shoulders like he belonged there.

“You’re stiff,” he whispered under his breath, leaning in close. “Loosen up. You’re going to blow our cover.”

“Our cover,” you echoed, tone dry. “You mean your impulsive lie that I got dragged into?”

“Exactly,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Teamwork.”

You resisted the urge to elbow him. Hard.

People were definitely looking. A couple of your classmates from literature did a double take as you passed the library.

Someone even whispered Heeseung’s name like it was a plot twist in a soap opera.

“I hate this,” you muttered through your teeth.

“You love it,” he replied, barely suppressing a smile

“Your secret crush on me is thriving.”

You gave him a scathing look. “My secret desire to throw you into a pond is what’s thriving.”

Still, you didn’t shrug him off.

And he didn’t comment on that.

Later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him at the dining hall, poking at your food while he carried the conversation for both of you.

“Well, well,” came a voice you weren’t expecting.

You looked up. A girl stood beside your table—long legs, glossy hair, dazzling smile. She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover.

“Heeseung,” she said sweetly. “Didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Heeseung stiffened slightly, then offered a polite nod. “Hey, Hana.”

Hana. You recognized her from one of the campus events. She’d been part of the cheer squad and had once been rumored to be Heeseung’s type.

“We’re just… eating,” you said quickly, trying not to sound weird.

But Hana’s eyes drifted to you. “Didn’t think you two even talked. You’re the book girl, right?”

You forced a smile. “Sure.”

“I guess opposites attract,” she said with a laugh, flipping her hair. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Heeseung.”

When she left, you focused on stabbing a piece of lettuce.

“What?” Heeseung asked, voice quieter.

“Nothing.”

“She’s no one,” he added.

“I said it’s nothing.”

He paused. “You’re a bad liar.”

You looked up, and for a second, your sarcasm slipped. “You used to like girls like her, right?”

Heeseung blinked. “Used to, yeah.”

You tried not to read into that. Really, you did.

But your brain was already spiraling. Why were you letting yourself feel this way?

He was cocky, loud, and absolutely not your type.

And yet, lately, your heart had been reacting to things that made no sense.

Like the way his hand lingered at the small of your back when you walked together.

And now—now this was starting to hurt. And it wasn’t even real.

Or how he remembered your favorite drink, or the way he let you chew him out without ever actually getting annoyed.

You pushed back from the table. “I’ve got an evening class. See you later.”

Heeseung blinked. “You… want me to walk you there?”

“No need,” you said. “This fake relationship’s doing its job, right?”

You didn’t wait for his reply.

He watched you go, and something in his chest pulled tight.

⸻

You sat in your dorm, pretending to read. But the words on the page kept blurring.

You hated this.

You hated how real it had started to feel.

Because the truth was, you liked him. You had for a while now—somewhere between his annoying jokes and the times he actually listened.

Somewhere between the way he saw past your walls and made you feel like being quiet wasn’t a flaw.

But he didn’t know that. And this was fake.

So you’d keep pretending it didn’t matter.

Until it didn’t.

⸻

Heeseung stared at his phone. No reply from you.

He scrolled up through your old texts. Nothing romantic.

Mostly arguments. Some snark. One compliment that you immediately denied.

He smiled faintly, but it faded quickly.

Maybe he’d pushed too far. Maybe this whole fake thing was a mistake.

But three years ago, when you handed him those physics notes, he’d known—knew it even back then—that you were different.

And somewhere between all the teasing and pretend flirting, his feelings had only gotten worse.

Because none of this felt fake to him anymore.

⸻

You avoided him for two days.

Which, to your credit, was impressive—considering Heeseung had a talent for showing up where you least expected him: the library, your favorite café, even outside your lecture hall “by accident.”

He didn’t try to stop you. Not at first.

But on the third day, you opened your locker to find him leaning beside it, arms crossed and eyes already waiting for you.

“You know,” he said calmly, “for a fake girlfriend, you’re really committed to ghosting me.”

You sighed. “What do you want, Heeseung?”

He tilted his head. “To talk. To maybe get some answers. Like why you’ve been MIA.”

“Maybe I just needed space.”

“Or maybe you started catching real feelings and panicked,” he said, teasing—but softer than usual.

You blinked at him, stung.

“And if I did?” you challenged.

That caught him off guard.

The smirk faltered. “Then I’d say… maybe you’re not the only one.”

Silence fell between you.

A tense, warm, terrifying kind of silence.

You turned away. “This was supposed to be fake.”

“Was,” he echoed. “Until it stopped feeling that way.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your head was a mess of questions and your heart was worse. So you just walked off again.

And this time, he didn’t follow.

⸻

Later that night, you found yourself at your usual library table. It was late, and quiet, and for once, peaceful.

Until...

“Mind if I sit?”

You didn’t need to look up.

Heeseung slid into the seat across from you anyway.

He didn’t say anything. Just opened a book. Upside down.

You sighed. “Why are you here?”

“Because I missed you.”

Your chest tightened. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he asked, gaze steady now. “You think I’m playing?”

“I think you’re confusing the game for something else.”

He leaned forward. “And you’re pretending you don’t feel it too.”

You bit your lip, heart pounding.

And just when you were about to say something—

A group of girls walked in.

One of them spotted Heeseung. “Oh! There’s our fake couple!” she said, giggling. “You two are so convincing!”

You froze.

Heeseung’s jaw clenched.

He stood up suddenly. “Come on.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Let’s go somewhere real.”

⸻

You ended up on the rooftop. Cold wind. Quiet night. Sky full of stars you hadn’t bothered to look at in weeks.

Heeseung sat beside you on the bench, his jacket draped over your shoulders without a word.

For once, neither of you had anything to say. Until he broke the silence.

“I never wanted it to stay fake,” he said softly.

You glanced at him.

He stared straight ahead. “I just didn’t know how to get close to you without… giving you a reason to push me away.”

You swallowed. “So you flirted and teased and annoyed the hell out of me?”

He laughed, sheepish. “Yeah. Kind of stupid, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not stupid.”

Just… Him.

You turned to face him. “Do you remember when we first met?”

He grinned. “Obviously. You corrected my physics notes so aggressively I thought you hated me.”

“I did,” you said. Then, after a beat, “Or… I thought I did.”

He looked at you now, eyes softer. “And now?”

You hesitated. The words felt like a mountain in your throat.

“Now I don’t know where the pretending stopped.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted closer—slowly, like giving you a chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

“I liked you since back then,” he murmured. “Even when you acted like I was the most annoying person in the world.”

“I liked how you never let me get away with anything. How you read during lunch instead of chasing drama. How your comebacks were sharper than any guitar string I’ve ever broken.”

You stared at him. “That is such a weird metaphor.”

He smiled. “I’m nervous.”

You laughed. “You’re never nervous.”

“I am now.”

He hesitated one more second. Then leaned in, brushing his lips gently against your cheek. Just a peck—light, barely there—but warm.

Your heart exploded.

You turned your head before he could pull back.

And kissed him.

Properly.

His lips curved against yours in surprise—then melted into it like he’d been waiting years.

One hand found your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone, holding you like you were something fragile he didn’t want to lose.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

“So,” he whispered. “Still think this is fake?”

You smiled, cheeks burning. “You’re still annoying.”

He grinned. “You’re still feisty.”

And then he kissed you again. And again.

And that night, under the stars and library lights below, the line between fiction and reality vanished for good.

⸻

Heeseung was lying on your bed.

Backwards. Upside down. Legs hanging off the side, head tilted toward the floor like he had zero respect for gravity.

A paperback rested against his chest, half-open.

“I don’t get it,” he mumbled, flipping a page like it betrayed him.

“Why’s this guy brooding for eighty chapters instead of just confessing? I could’ve resolved this whole plot in like, two texts and a forehead kiss.”

You looked up from your laptop. “Because feelings are complicated, Heeseung.”

He raised a brow. “So is this why you wouldn’t date me for three years? Because you were being a tragic romance heroine?”

You chucked a pillow at him.

He caught it with one hand, grinning like the menace he was.

“Not tragic,” you corrected. “Selective.”

“Oh, right. My bad. You were waiting for someone worthy.” He turned another page, then squinted.

“This guy definitely isn’t. Can I fight him?”

You crawled over beside him and peeked at the page. “You’ve never even finished a novel before.”

“Yeah, but now I’m dating a girl who eats books for breakfast, so I have to keep up,” he said proudly.

You flopped down beside him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

Heeseung’s voice softened. “You know what the real plot twist is?”

“What?”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“That I’m completely obsessed with you.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming instantly. “You’re still so dramatic.”

“And you still blush every time I say something cheesy. It’s tradition.”

You huffed, but didn’t deny it. “What happened to the guy who was too cool for feelings?”

He tapped his chest. “Retired. Got replaced by the lovesick loser who brings you snacks during study marathons and memorizes your favorite quotes to say them back in the worst moments.”

“Don’t you dare,” you warned.

Heeseung cleared his throat, putting on his most serious voice.

”‘It has always been you. Even when I didn’t know what I wanted, it was you.’”

You screamed into the pillow.

He burst out laughing, victorious. “You’re so easy to fluster, it’s adorable.”

You tackled him flat onto the bed, and he just laughed harder as you buried your face in his hoodie—his hoodie that you now claimed as yours.

After the giggling faded, you both lay there quietly, the world reduced to soft breathing and the rise and fall of your shoulders against his chest.

“I still can’t believe I get to have this,” you whispered.

Heeseung looked down at you.

“What, lying on a twin bed with the guy who made your college years a living hell?”

You smiled. “That too. But also… you. Like this. Real. Not just fake dating or teasing from across the library.”

He ran a hand through your hair. “You’ve always had me. Even before you knew.”

You snorted. “So you were just flirting non-stop because you were hopelessly in love?”

“Exactly,” he said without hesitation. “And because watching you roll your eyes was my favorite sport.”

You laughed, the sound soft and full.

Outside, the sun started to set, casting golden light through the window.

The same light that once spilled across library tables and café corners, back when you thought this boy was just an annoying storm in your quiet life.

Now?

He was your favorite part of the story.

And you were so, so glad you didn’t skip his chapter.

⸻

Author's note: Heeseung has been ruining me lately... the was insane guys. Here's another piece for yall~ Please enjoy!

[mintseung]

favorite kiss spots ᯓ★

❀ ◦ paring ◦ enha x reader

❀ ◦ genre ◦ fluff, crack, a little suggestive

❀ ◦ warnings ◦ a lot of kissing !

❀ ◦ word count ◦ 2600+

❀ ◦ note ◦ thank you @lovegreenie for being my beta reader <3 worked long and hard for this XD. sorry it took a bit, i had to make a new story for jungwon !

❀ ◦ taglist ◦ @kristynaaah @coldspringlf @nari-roll

heeseung ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ shoulder & nape

You sat at your desk, fingers tapping away on your laptop as the sound of rain pattered softly against the window. The cozy atmosphere wrapped around you like a blanket, keeping the vibe calm and comforting.

The bathroom door creaked open, and you heard Heeseung step out of the shower. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and his cheeks were slightly rosy from the heat.

You kept working as he walked up to you, towel in hand, drying his hair.

Without a word, he bent down and pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as his head rested on your shoulder.

“What cha workin’ on?” he asked, his voice soft and curious.

“Just some work,” you replied, glancing at him with a smile.

“The deadline is in a few days, and I kinda wanna finish this early.” Your cheeks warmed as you noticed how cute your clingy boyfriend was being.

Heeseung leaned closer, his nose brushing against your shoulder as he caught a whiff of your new body wash.

“You smell so good,” he murmured, his voice tinged with admiration.

“Why, thank you,” you giggled, trying to focus on your screen.

But then you felt it.

A soft peck on your shoulder.

Then another. And another.

His kisses kept coming, each one gentle and warm, distracting you completely.

“Hee, I’m trying to work,” you whined, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed how much you secretly enjoyed the attention.

“But I miss you so much,” he mumbled into your shoulder, his voice filled with affection.

You sighed, turning slightly to look at him.

“Hee, come on. Let me finish, and then we can cuddle and kiss all night,” you bargained, hoping to get him to relent.

“Okayyy,” Heeseung sighed dramatically, pulling away.

But before he left, he gently moved your hair off your neck and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your nape. The warmth of his lips sent shivers down your spine, leaving you completely flustered.

“Good luck with work, baby,” he chuckled, his tone playful as he walked away, knowing full well your brain had short-circuited after that.

jay ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ temple

Jay was peacefully strumming his guitar in the living room, completely in the zone as he played around with different chords. The soft melody filled the air, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

You entered the room, balancing two cups of tea in your hands.

“Jay, I made us tea” you said with a smile as you walked toward him. You plopped down in the empty space beside him, setting the tea on the coffee table.

“Thank you, honey” he replied softly, his voice gentle as he continued to play, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings.

You took a sip of your tea, savoring the warmth as you leaned back, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. The room was quiet except for the soft, soothing sounds of Jay’s guitar.

Setting your tea down, you shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder, letting his little tunes wash over you.

As you listened, your gaze drifted upward, landing on Jay’s face. His brows furrowed slightly in concentration, his lips pressed together in focus. He looked so handsome, so very effortlessly handsome, that you couldn’t help but stare.

Jay felt your eyes on him and glanced down, a playful chuckle escaping his lips.

“Do I look handsome?” he teased, his tone light and cheeky.

Usually, you’d fire back with a teasing remark or playful banter, but today felt different. The warmth of the moment made you feel soft, vulnerable.

“Yeah” you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay froze for a moment, caught off guard by your genuineness. A small blush crept onto his cheeks as he looked at you, his composure faltering. Regaining himself, he smiled softly.

“Thank you, hun” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You smiled back, your heart swelling as he returned to his guitar. But the longer you stared at him, the more flustered he became.

His fingers stuttered slightly on the strings, and he let out a soft laugh.

“Ah- why are you so cute?” he chuckled, setting the guitar down beside him.

Jay turned to you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he leaned in. He began peppering your temple with feathery kisses, each one accompanied by a word of affirmation.

“You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “So.” Kiss. “Cute.” Kiss.

You giggled, leaning back slightly as his gentle kisses tickled your skin. Your laughter filled the room, blending with the warmth of his affection.

Jay pulled away just enough to look at you, his thumb softly caressing your cheek.

“I love you so much, my adorable darling” he said, his voice filled with sincerity and love.

He leaned in one last time, placing a soft peck on your temple before pulling you into a warm embrace.

jake ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ jawline & lips

You had just returned home from running errands, the sound of the door closing catching Jake’s attention as he lounged on the couch. His head turned toward you, his face lighting up instantly.

“Baby! You’re home” he said with a wide smile, quickly making his way over to you as you set down the groceries.

“Hello, jakey~” you replied, smiling softly.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you into a gentle back hug as you continued unpacking.

“You come home and don’t even give your magnificent boyfriend a kiss?” he pouted, his voice playfully dramatic.

You chuckled, pausing your task to turn and face him. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on his lips before turning back to the groceries. “There, happy now?” you teased.

But Jake wasn’t satisfied.

“Heyyyy” he whined, his pout deepening as he stared at you, clearly wanting more.

When you didn’t pay him any attention, Jake decided to take matters into his own hands.

He gently grabbed your face, turning you toward him once more, and leaned in to place another kiss on your lips, this time lingering a little longer.

Your body softened in defeat, melting into his touch as you kissed him back. Jake pulled away with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me” he giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. God forbid I love my boyfriend” you joked, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the groceries once again.

Jake sighed dramatically, wrapping his arms around you once more.

This time, he decided to let you be… or so you thought.

As you sorted through the canned goods, you suddenly felt a soft peck on your jaw, the ticklish sensation sending shivers down your spine.

“Jaeyun.” you said, trying to sound stern, but your voice betrayed you as you folded under his affection.

“What? God forbid I kiss my lover” Jake teased, mimicking your earlier words with a cheeky grin as he continued his sneaky little jaw kisses.

You sighed in defeat, turning to face him once more. Jake’s smile grew as he leaned in, pressing another soft kiss on your lips.

“Knew you couldn’t say no to me” he giggled, stealing yet another kiss.

sunghoon ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ hands

The day was cold, the kind that nipped at your skin and made every breath feel crisp.

You and Sunghoon strolled quietly through the park, the environment silent apart from the rustle of leaves and the crunch of gravel beneath your feet. Neither of you felt the need to talk, you were content with just each other’s presence.

You finished your hot drink, the warmth slipping away as you tossed the empty cup into a nearby trash can.

As you continued walking, you rubbed your hands together for warmth, realizing too late that your jacket didn’t have pockets.

Sunghoon caught sight of your struggling hands and tilted his head, his voice breaking the silence softly. “Cold?”

You nodded, offering him a sheepish smile. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently took your hand, slipping it into his jacket pocket. His hand wrapped around yours, radiating a comforting heat.

“Aish, my hands are always available for you” he chuckled softly, his words carrying a teasing warmth that made you smile.

You tilted your head and raised your other hand, pouting playfully.

“What about this one?”

Sunghoon paused, glancing at your freezing fingers before his lips curled into a small smile. He reached out, taking your other hand gently, and placed a soft peck on it.

The blush that crept onto your cheeks came crashing down fast. You ducked your head slightly, feeling the warmth of his lips linger as the cold seemed to fade momentarily.

“Wow, your hands are really cold” he giggled, his voice light but affectionate.

He pulled both of your hands closer and pressed another kiss to your knuckles, the gesture so tender it made your heart flutter.

“We should go home before your fingers freeze off, love” he murmured, reaching into his pocket to hand you an extra hand warmer. But he didn’t let go of your other hand, keeping it snug in his jacket pocket alongside his own.

“Let’s go!” Sunghoon said with a smile, leading the way home as you followed beside him, warmth spreading through you, not just from his pocket, but from the soft kisses he’d placed on your knuckles, each one lingering like a promise of his affection.

sunoo ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ cheeks

You had just ordered some takeout and were happily munching away while waiting for Sunoo to finish his skincare routine. The room was quiet except for the occasional sound of your phone as you scrolled through videos, the aroma of your food filling the air.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Sunoo entered the room, his skin glowing and his hair perfectly in place.

“Sun, you’re finally done! Come eat” you said, perking up at the sight of him. Your cheeks were puffed out with food, making you look like an adorable chipmunk.

Sunoo paused mid-step, his lips curling into a sweet smile.

“Ehehe, you look so cute” he giggled as he sat down beside you, grabbing a pair of chopsticks.

You tilted your head at him, confused by his sudden comment. “Wha?” you mumbled, still chewing.

Sunoo took another glance at you, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Your cheeks are so, so, so cute” he squealed, unable to contain himself.

He reached out, gently holding your cheeks before giving them a playful squish.

“Why are you so adorable?” he giggled, leaning in to peck your cheek.

You blinked at him, still chewing your food, your expression blank but amused.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sunoo scoffed, grabbing some food for himself.

“You’re weird” you chuckled, finally swallowing your bite.

Sunoo smiled, clearly unbothered by your teasing. He picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks and held it out to you. “Aah~” he said, his tone playful.

You leaned in, ready to take the bite, but just as you were about to, Sunoo pulled the chopsticks away and leaned in to peck your cheek again.

“What the- what’s wrong with you tonight, Sun?” you giggled, looking at him with playful eyes.

“You’re just so cute~ here, here” he said, finally offering you the food. This time, he let you take it, watching with a satisfied smile as you happily ate his offering.

Before turning back to his own meal, Sunoo leaned in one last time, pressing another quick peck to your cheek. His laughter filled the room as he finally started eating, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.

jungwon ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ face

With deadlines looming, it was nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get through all your crammed work.

It was late at night, and while Jungwon was already in bed scrolling through his phone, you were still on the other side of the room, typing away and working your night away.

And then it happened, you finished your final requirement.

“Finally!” you exclaimed, stretching in your seat.

Jungwon looked up from his phone, a wide smile spreading across his face as excitement bubbled in his chest. He’d been trying his best not to bother you while you worked, but now that you were free, he couldn’t wait to have you all to himself.

“Finally?!” he jumped up from his spot on the bed and ran over to you.

Without warning, he pulled you into a tight embrace and pressed a small, sweet kiss to your nose.

“You’re finally free! I’ve been waiting for you to finish since forever” Jungwon giggled, dragging you to the bed as you laughed along with him.

Your body flopped onto the mattress, the soft embrace of the bed easing all the stress from your deadlines.

Jungwon followed with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you as his fingers gently cupped your cheeks. He leaned in, peppering your face with a flurry of kisses.

“Finally have you all to myself” he giggled again, his joy bubbling over as he flopped down on top of you like a content cat, his weight pressing into your figure.

“Aaah, won! I can’t breathe” you wheezed, laughing as you tried to push him off. He looked up at you with his adorable big, round eyes, playfully refusing to budge.

“You’re never leaving my side again” he teased before finally getting off you.

Jungwon settled beside you properly this time, pulling you close so your faces were just inches apart. His gaze softened as he took in the tiredness etched on your face.

“Ahh, you really need to catch up on sleep. Your eye bags are so big” he teased with a laugh, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss under your eyes.

A small smile crept onto your face as you sank further into his warm embrace. Before you could drift off, Jungwon kissed your face once more, showering you with affection.

He rested his forehead against yours, his voice soft and full of love.

“Goodnight, baby~” he whispered, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek as you both let the peaceful night take over.

ni-ki ── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ forehead & head

We all know ni-ki is a tall, tall man. No matter your height, he’d most likely tower over you effortlessly.

You were minding your own business on the couch, scrolling through your phone, the warm afternoon light spilling into the room and giving everything a soft, golden glow.

Ni-ki sat beside you, trying his best to keep himself occupied with his own phone, but it just wasn’t working.

He glanced over at you, his lips forming a pout as he watched you giggle softly at something on your screen.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity- and maybe a little jealousy.

“Just scrolling through some reels” you replied casually, your attention still on your phone as another giggle escaped you.

Ni-ki’s face scrunched in frustration. He wanted your attention, and he wanted it now. Without warning, he stood up and snatched your phone away, holding it high above his head.

“Wha- riki, I was watching!” you protested, quickly standing up to try and grab your phone back.

Ni-ki’s teasing grin spread across his face as he raised your phone even higher, well out of your reach.

“Can’t reach?” he teased, clearly enjoying your futile attempts to reclaim your device.

You stretched up again, determined to grab your phone, but ni-ki saw his chance. Leaning down, he wrapped his arms around you, trapping you in a tight bear hug.

Before you could protest further, he pressed a quick kiss to your temple, his grin softening into something more affectionate.

“You’re my cute girl, you know that, right?” he whispered into your ear, his voice low and warm.

Your cheeks flushed as he pecked your forehead, his arms still holding you close.

[mintseung]

Backshots with bf!enha

pairing: hyung line x fem!reader genre: smut (MDNI), fluff if you squint... warnings: hair pulling, unprotected sex, light choking, jealousy/rough sex, kitchen sex, fingering, public sex, marking, creampie like literally for all of them because I'm ovulating wc: 4.1k

Heeseung ♡༉‧₊˚.

The bright sun dipped low over the shoreline, casting a soft glow over you and Heeseung's entwined figures, seated near the edge of the water. Your hair was disheveled from the salty breeze as you knealed on the sandy surface.

You squint against the light, your sunglasses sliding halfway down your nose. "Babe, can you take these off for me? My hands are gross." You say as you shake your hands from the mix of sea water and sand.

He leans in with a small smile, brushing strands of your messy hair away from your face. His fingers graze behind your ears as he lifts your sunglasses off, but they catch slightly in your hair, tugging just enough to elicit a sound from you. A soft whimper that made him freeze in his tracks the moment it left your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs as you try to keep yourself together, feeling your cheeks warm up. You shake your head, playing it off and he doesn't mention it again, at least not out loud.

The drive home is quiet, a little too quiet. The moment kept replaying in his head, the way your face contorted, the breathy whimper...it was driving him crazy. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, you could see the way his jaw clenched and how he avoids looking at you at all costs.

When you arrive home, he opens the door for you like usual, patient and gentle, but the moment the door shuts behind you his hands find your hips, needily pulling you against him. You open your mouth to say something but before you can he bends you over the armrest of the couch, guiding you forward with a hand on your back.

His free hand tangles in your hair, making you gasp as your eyes flew wide open. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He leans down, lips brushing past the sensitive skin of your neck.

His hands slide along your sides, fingers dragging up under your shirt until you're practically melting beneath him. You tried to respond again, but your words stop as he gently presses you forward.

His fingers find your hair once again, curling around the strands. "I need to hear those pretty little noises again. Been playing in my mind the whole ride home." He tugs gently and your back arches, pressing your hips more firmly against his.

He pushes his hips forward, letting you feel his hard length through his jean shorts. The sensation makes your toes curl, a soft moan escaping your lips. "That's it, just like that." he praises. With that, he reaches down to undo the button of his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Shortly after he discards his clothing, he pulls down your shorts, and moves your panties aside, brushing his fingers against your folds.

"You're enjoying this as much as I am, huh?" He says as he feels your wetness. He positions himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick heat. His grip in your hair tightens, another soft tug as he starts to push forward.

"That's my girl...so perfect for me." he murmurs, slowly filling you up inch by inch. His hips begin to roll in a steady rythm and his grip on your hair tightens as he picks up the pace. Your fingers scrabble against the soft fabric of the couch, grip tightening from the overwhelming pleasure of his length hitting the bests spots deep inside you. He groans as sounds spill from your lips uncontrollably, soft moans, breathless gasps, even a choked cry or two when he remembers to tug at your hair again.

"Fuck, yes...y/n I'm close..." His voice is strained, each word punctuated by the sound of skin slapping. He leans down to nip at your neck, soothing the sting with soft kisses. One hand leaves your hip to slip underneath your shirt, squeezing the soft swell of your breast. His thumb finds your nipple, circling the hardened peak before pinching lightly, making you see stars.

He pants against your neck as he feels himself getting closer. "Go on baby, come for me." He says, changing the angle slightly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. With a prolonged moan, your orgasm crashes through you. He groans deeply, hips stuttering as he feels you come undone, which triggered his own release to spill deep inside you with a low moan of your name.

He collapses against your back, breathing raggedly, one hand still gripping your hair, the other splayed across your chest. He presses soft kisses along your neck and shoulders as you both come down from the high.

Jay ♡༉‧₊˚.

The warm light of the early morning floods the kitchen of the apartment you share with your boyfriend, Jay. You're standing barefoot on the cool tiles, fingers sticky with batter as you were cooking breakfast together on a warm summer morning. The fabric of your thin pajamas cling onto your curves, giving tantalizing glimpses of the skin underneath. Jay hasn't said anything about it, but you've caught his eyes lingering more than once.

He tried to focus on cracking eggs into a bowl, but his hands were shaking slightly, distracted by the alluring sight of his girlfriend. You acted oblivious to the effect you were having on him, humming happily as you reach up to grab a plate from the cabinet.

"You know, you always make that face when you cook," you say with a giggle, nudging his side with your elbow as you notice him focusing extra hard on his task. "Concentrated, very serious, like your life depends on whatever you're making."

He glances at you, eyes trailing down just a bit too long on your figure. "Well sorry for wanting to make good food for my wonderful girlfriend," he says with a sarcastic tone. "While she's busy distracting me." he says, his voice low almost as if he didn't want you to hear him.

You arch an eyebrow. "Distracting you with what?"

He doesn't answer right away, but his hand lingers at the small of your back as he shifts behind you to grab a plate. "You know what." You pause for a second, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but you turn back to the counter, grabbing something which doesn't go unnoticed by his burning gaze as your top rides up a little when you reach forward.

"You're doing that on purpose." He murmurs behind you. "Doing what?" You ask purposefully to get a rise out of him. He steps closer, chest brushing against your shoulder as his hands cage you on either side of the counter. "You're so lucky that I have amazing self control" he says in a low tone.

You don't move at first, you just let him hover behind you, close enough to feel his breath on the side of your neck. "Amazing self control? Yeah, right." You respond teasingly. He moves closer to you, his body down fully pressed against his as he whispers in your ear. "It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this counter and fuck you so good you forget your own name," he pauses. "Especially when you walk around like this." He says as he feels the fabric of your shorts.

He spins you around and kisses you desperately, his hands exploring your body with need. You pull away from the kiss breathlessly. "The eggs are still on." He lets out a groan and looks into your eyes. "Forget the damn eggs."

He kisses you again, this time more deeply and passionately. Your fingers find his waist and you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. When he pulls back, just enough to look at you he speaks in between breaths. "You drive me insane y/n."

You turn back around, taking the eggs out of the pan with a smile, but as soon as you set down the plate he bends you over the cold marble countertop, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your pajamas. You gasp as your nipples harden from the sudden change in temperature, and he presses himself against your ass, letting you feel his growing arousal through his pajama pants.

One of his hands slid up to cup your breast undearneath your top, his thumb flicking over the stiff peak. His other hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the hem of your shorts to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you needed him the most.

"Jay..." You breathe out, arching your back against him. He silenced you with a deep, passionate kiss as his hands traveled to your clothed core, toying with the flimsy fabric of your panties. He rubbed his fingers against your clothed slit, feeling just how soaked you were.

Your hips bucked against his teasing touch as his fingers find your clit through the damp fabric, rubbing in firm circles. You could feel his hard length throbbing insistently against your rear, and you reach back with a trembling hand to palm his erection, squeezing and stroking him through his pants.

Jay groans against your neck, his hips jerking forward to grind harder against your ass. He nipped at your neck, sucking the sensitive skin enough to leave a mark. "Fuck, you're so wet already." He panted, pushing two fingers inside you and curling them while his thumb flicked rapidly over your clit. "I need to be inside you baby..."

You sigh disappointingly at the loss as he withdraws his fingers but your sigh was quickly replaced by a sharp gasp as he removes your flimsy pajama top, his hands sliding down to your hips tauntingly until they reach the waistband of your shorts, which he tugged down with one swift motion along with your underwear.

Jay drank in the sight of your bare body splayed out over the counter, his eyes dark with lust. He pushed your legs apart after removing his pajama pants, rubbing his length through your soaked folds. You whimpered and tried to push back against him, aching to feel him inside you.

"Please Jay..." You begged, your voice trembling with need. He didn't need to be told twice. With a grunt, he thrusts forward, burying himself inside your dripping heat. You both cried out in pleasure, your back arching as you felt the stretch. He stilled for a moment, savoring the feeling of your walls fluttering against him.

Then, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you, before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt once more. He set a hard, fast pace, the force of his thrusts making you lose your balance, You hold onto the cold marble while attempting to push your hips back to meet every snap of his hips.

He could feel you tightening around his length, reaching around to rub your clit in fast circles as his desire to feel you come undone around his dick grew. With a sharp cry, your back arched almost painfully, his deep thrusts making your vision go blank.

The sensation was almost too much for Jay. With a low moan of profanity he slammed into you one more time before spilling himself inside you. You btoh catch your breaths as you come down from your highs, and after a long moment, Jay lifted his head to press a tender kiss to your back. He nuzzled into your neck, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. "I love you." He whispered against your lips.

Jake ♡༉‧₊˚.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional flip of a page and the steady scratching of pencils on paper. You're lounging on the plush rug, legs folded beneath you, surrounded by open textbooks and scattered notes. Jake sits across from you, equally engrossed in his studies. His brows furrowed as he explains something about formulas or concepts you’re simply nodding along to.

The fabric of your top shifts subtly as you lean forward to reach for a highlighter, and you don't miss the way his breath hitches in between his words for half a second. But he keeps going.

You're wearing a top that's more comfort than coverage, a little loose around the edges but still hugging your body in all the right spots. You didn't bother with anything underneath, it's your home after all, and it's just the two of you. Jake was respectful, he obviously didn't mind, but it was the way you teased him that started riling him up.

You stretch your arms above your head casually, arching just enough to make the fabric slide a little higher, a little looser. His pencil stills.

"You okay?" You ask innocently.

He exhales slowly. "Yeah. Just... trying to concentrate."

You bite your lip, holding back a smirk. "On what?" you press, leaning forward to "accidentally" drop your pencil. As you bend down to pick it up, you make sure to give him a perfect view of your cleavage, the neckline of your top gaping open.

That's when he breaks. In a flash, he closes the small distance between you two, one hand tilting your face up to his.

His hand hand moves down to rest on your thigh, firm but still gentle, grounding you. His voice drops as he leans in, lips brushing past your ear.

"You've been teasing me for the past hour," he says in a low tone. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

You bite your lip, looking up at him with wide eyes as he pulls away to face you. "I don't know what you mean," you breathe as you press your chest against his. "I'm just trying to focus on the material, like you should be."

"You're impossible," he mutters, before his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss until you're both left breathless.

He breaks away, only to trail his mouth down your throat. You gasp, head falling back to give him better access as he marks your skin.

"Bed," he says against your neck, "now."

Before you can respond, he's standing, scooping you up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries you towards your bed. You look up at him, chest heaving, hair splayed out across the pillow.

Jake hovers over you, eyes darkened with lust. "On your hands and knees," he commands, voice rough and low.

Your heart races before you slowly roll over. The cool sheets brush against your skin as you push yourself up, looking back at him over your shoulder, almost asking for approval.

He's staring at you, taking in the sight of you like this. Messy hair, top riding up, and a blush spreading across your skin. "Just like that."

He moves behind you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. You feel his hard length pressing against your backside through his sweatpants. He pushes your upper body down until your cheek is pressed against the pillow, your arms laying loosely by your sides.

"Jake," you whimper into the pillow "please..."

"Shh," he soothes, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, "I've got you."

He takes his time, savoring every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants and panties, and with a sharp tug, he yanks them down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed beneath him.

You gasp as the cool air hits your heated skin, a shiver running through you. You feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of you like this, bent over, just for him to see.

You feel the bed dip as he settles behind you. One hand grips your hip, holding you steady, while the other traces teasingly along your inner thigh. His touch reaches its destination, stroking through your slick folds with a touch so gentle it makes you ache.

You let out a choked moan, pushing your hips back against him, craving more. But he's in control, setting a slow, torturous pace that has you trembling and desperate.

"Jake," you whimper, "please... I need..."

"I know," he interrupts, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, then another to the nape of your neck. "I know exactly what you need baby."

He shifts behind you, and you feel the brush of fabric against your skin as he shoves his pants and boxers down. Then, with a swift thrust of his hips, he's inside you, filling you in one deep stroke.

A cry tears from your throat at the sudden intrusion, your walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper. He groans a low, guttural sound that sends vibrations through you.

"Fuck, y/n," he breathes out, starting to move, "you feel so good...so perfect."

He sets a relentless pace, one hand gripping your hip, the other reaching around to circle your clit in time with his thrusts. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his grunts.

You're lost in sensation, drowning in the feeling of him moving inside you. Your body responds instinctively to his touch, hips rolling back to meet his every thrust. The coil of tension in your core winds tighter and tighter, your breathing growing ragged as you climb closer to the edge.

"Yes, just like that," he says, his hand resting against your back and pushing you into the mattress as he tries to stabilize himself.

His words, rough and raw with need, are all it takes to push you over. Your walls clamp down around him as your orgasm crashes through you, wave after wave of ecstasy radiating out from your core.

You cry out his name as you shatter in his arms. He follows a moment later, moaning your name as his hips jerk and stutter, filling you with his heat as he rides out the aftershocks.

Finally, he rolls to the side, falling onto the bed and pulling you with him so you're both curled up, a sharp contrast to his earlier movements.

Sunghoon ♡༉‧₊˚.

Sunghoon's hand tightened possessively around your waist as he led you through the crowded party, his eyes flashing with jealousy each time you turned heads in the stunning dress he had gifted you. It started when one guy was flirting with you. Then another offered you a drink with too much eye contact. And while you handled it gracefully and turned them down, you felt his jealously with every passing glance someone else sent your way.

You tug gently at his hand. "You okay?" His jaw flexes, and he leans in, lips brushing your ear. "We need a minute."

Before you can ask where you're going, he's guiding you through the hallway, hand refusing to leave your waist. He finds an empty bathroom, quiet and dim. The door clicks shut behind you. You turn to speak, but he's already brushing his thumb along your jaw, his voice low and steady.

"That dress is going to be the end of me," he says. "You walked into that room like a dream, and all I could think about was how they looked at you. Like you're theirs to look at."

Your breath hitches. The possessiveness in his tone makes your knees feel weak. He kisses you, deep and a little rougher than usual, hands exploring like he can’t bear another second of pretending to be composed. He pushes you until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the sink.

"Turn around," he murmurs, and you do, feeling the hem of your dress slide higher as you brace yourself, forearms resting on the smooth surface.

One hand slid down to grope your breast roughly through the fabric of your dress, kneading the soft flesh, while the other hand moved to your throat.

He bites and sucks at the sensitive skin of your neck, determined to mark you. He wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, you were his girlfriend and he's the only one who will ever have you like this. "Mine," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Say it, y/n. Tell me you're mine."

His hips grind against yours, the evidence of his arousal impossible to miss. You gasped as his teeth sank into the tender flesh of your neck, a jolt of pained pleasure shooting through you.

"Yours," you whimpered, tilting your head to give him better access. "I'm yours, Sunghoon. Only yours." His hands scrambled at his shirt, tugging at the buttons impatiently. He needed to feel his skin against yours, needed to be as close to you as possible.

He pulled the fabric of your dress up, bunching it at your hips as he pushed you against the cold sink. He kissed you again, hard and deep as his hands roamed over every inch of exposed skin. He squeezed your breasts, fingers trailing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress until they were stiff peaks. His hand slid down to the waistband of your panties, slipping inside to cup your soaking heat.

He groaned, feeling the slick heat of your arousal. He rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb, circling the sensitive nub, making you writhe beneath him. "All this for me pretty girl?"

He sat back just long enough to shed his clothes, revealing his lean, muscular body. Then he was all over you again, settling between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. "I'm gonna make you scream my name. I want everyone to know you're mine."

His hand slid around to the front of your throat, wrapping loosely but firmly, while the other hand pushed your panties aside. He rubbed his fingers through your slick folds, feeling how wet you were before pushing two digits inside you.

He pumped them in and out roughly as his thumb circled your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in harsh strokes. At the same time, he rolled his hips, grinding his hard cock against your ass, letting you feel how badly he needed you.

He removed his fingers from your dripping core, only to replace them with the thick head of his cock. With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, not stopping until he was hilted deep, stretching you around his thick girth.

He pounded into you hard and fast, the obscene sound of skin slapping echoing through the small room. One hand gripped your hip, holding you in place while the other hand tightened around your throat.

"I'm yours, Sunghoon. All yours. Please... harder." You say in between breaths, unable to complete a sentence as his hand was wrapped around your throat.

He listened to your plea, forcing your legs open as he thrusted deeper into you. He could feel your tight walls clenching around him at the change of pace.

His other hand slid around to tug at your dress, pulling it down to have better access to your breast, squeezing the soft mound roughly. He knew he was being a little too harsh, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy consumed him, and you clearly loved it too.

You could only moan and whimper beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. "Yes, yes, yours," you babbled mindlessly, pushing your hips back to meet his brutal thrusts."Only yours, Sunghoon. Forever yours."

He could feel your climax building. His cock was hitting that special spot inside you with every thrust, sending sparks of ecstasy through your body.

"I'm... I'm going to... " you cried out, unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm crashed over, making you see stars and your body shaking and trembling beneath his.

Sunghoon fucked you through your high, prolonging it, drawing it out until you were nothing but a shuddering mess beneath him. Only then did he let himself go with a low groan of your name. He buried himself as deep as he could go, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself inside you.

As your breathing slowly returned to normal, Sunghoon reluctantly pulled out and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, in stark contrast to the brutal fucking he'd just given you. His hands moved gently over your curves as if trying to soothe the bruises he'd left on your skin. "Are you alright sweetheart?" He asked in a genuine, caring tone.

You nod in return, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. He fixed your dress and your hair with delicate touch, trying to make up for his earlier actions. After a long moment, he took your hand and led you out of the bathroom and back into the loud party. A few people glanced your way, noticing your rumpled appearances and the marks on your neck. Sunghoon just smirked, giving you a possessive squeeze around the waist.

A/N: Returning with a banger (I hope) since i got requests for Sunghoon AND Jay backshots I was like hmmm might as well write it for all of them right... 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 hopefully my first time writing smut is good cuz this was A STRUGGLEEEE also if you see any mistakes no you didn't its 3am rn 💔

[mintseung]

♡when jake gets needy during a heavy makeout session

the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city peaking through your apartment curtains. the only thing you could focus on was jake. his touch, his breath hot breath against your neck as he kissed it like you’d disappear.

you straddled his lap, knees pressing into the couch on either side of him, your body flush against his. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that teetered the line of desperation, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided you to press down harder against him.

“fuck, i can’t—” he muttered against your lips, his voice laced with need. his forehead dropped against yours as his hands trailed down your sides where your—his shirt had ridden up. you barely had time to catch your breath before he tilted his head and latched his lips onto yours in a quickened motion, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made heat pool between your thighs.

you shifted in his lap, and he let out a sound similar to a whimper into your mouth. his grip on your waist loosened—“you’re driving me insane” he said his voice strained from lack of words.

you connected your lips again tangling your hands in his hair. he moaned into your mouth louder this time as you slowly started to shift your hips against his. his hands guided you against him, a broken whimper leaving his throat.

“oh my god—“ he moaned grip tightening, again. he throws his head back against the couch letting you work yourself against him, moving in teasing motions.

his hands slid under your shirt feeling your hot skin against his hands as he let out lewd and whiny sounds. he squeezes his eyes shut lost in the pleasure of you rubbing against him, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, pulling you down harder against him.

“i need more” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“please.”

his desperation sent a rush of heat between your legs.

you started moving faster against him, his hips meeting your movements adding to the friction.

“don’t stop” you mutter against his neck breathing harder than before, biting your lower lip to muffle the moan threatening to come out.

a shudder ran through his body, a soft desperate whimper slipping past his lips as he slips his hands into your loose sweatpants gripping you softer, completely unraveling beneath you.

[mintseung]

𓂃 𝄞 . . . ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU WEAR PRETTY MINISKIRTS

( 𝐵𝑂𝑂𝐾𝑆𝐻𝐸𝐿𝐹 ) 🍮 엔하이픈 형 & 𝑓!reader ୧ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 fluff slightly suggestive scenarios reactions non–idol au ꒡⌓꒡ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 established relationship pet names kissing physical intimacy physical touch hint of suggestive themes

HEESEUNG

you step into the kitchen, adjusting your skirt as you move, and you can feel heeseung's eyes on you instantly.

he’s leaning against the counter with a glass of water in hand, but the way his grip tightens ever so slightly makes your heart beat a little faster.

“that’s new” he remarks, his voice low, his gaze traveling down your legs and back up again.

“do you like it?” you ask, spinning slowly, knowing full well the effect you have on him.

he crosses the room in a few quick steps, his hands finding your waist, pulling you close. “like it?” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear “i’m obsessed”.

you laugh softly, but the way his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on your hip sends shivers down your spine.

“i might have to cancel our plans” he teases, his voice playful but his eyes full of affection “i can't let anyone else see you like this”.

JAY

it's no surprise to you that jay's favorite way of spending money on you is by buying you pretty skirts.

“go try it on, baby” he encourages, waiting on the couch while you go change. when you emerge back in the living room, he's in awe.

the way the skirt hugs your curves just the right way has him almost drool right then and there, but he's a composed man so he just smiles widely and motions for you to come closer.

“wow, just wow…” he comments, holding your thighs with both of his hands, staring shamelessly at your bare legs.

you place your hands on his shoulders and giggle at his expression. “does it look good?” you ask, taking a few steps back to twirl slowly.

he stands up, closing the distance between you and catching your hand, pulling you against his chest.

“it looks perfect” you look up at his soft smile, and he finally presses his lips on yours passionately.

JAKE

wearing a miniskirt means having jake following you around for the rest of the day like a lovesick puppy. he can't stop looking at you, with that stupid smile plastered on his face.

whenever you're near, his hands trail near your lower back or your upper thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“can you wear that pink skirt today?” he eagerly asks when you have to go out, and you chuckle, knowing you had him all wrapped around your finger already.

you smile knowingly while pulling the skirt out of the closet and jake's eyes immediately light up.

he crosses the room to wrap his arms around your waist gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"can you blame me?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple "you look so good in it, i can't help myself".

you roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice and the way he looks at you make your heart skip a beat.

SUNGHOON

his eyes dart over your outfit, and he lingers a moment extra on that cute miniskirt with an unreadable gaze.

but the small smile that he fights to keep in and the shy look in his eyes tell you just how much his brain goes highwire.

“looks good” he mumbles, walking over to you, placing a hand on the side of your hip and pulling you against him.

his hand is constantly near the small of your back, especially when you wear skirts this short.

when you go out, he insists on walking behind you when the path is too crowded.

“just to protect you, nothing else” he keeps insisting as you tease him with a playful smile, but you know his eyes can't help but wander down when you turn back.

you do catch him from time to time, slapping his chest lightly as he stumbles over his words in search for an excuse, and you just laugh at his reddening cheeks.

[mintseung]

˗ˏˋ02. MOAN FOR THE CAMERA

pairingᝰ.ᐟ lee heeseung x fem reader

warningsᝰ.ᐟ unprotected sex, grinding, praise kink, soft dom! heeseung, overstimulation, etc.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

statusᝰ.ᐟ 2/9 completed!

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it has been a week since you got the message.

seven days since your phone lit up with his user for the first time. seven days since those words slid across your screen and rewired the chemistry in your chest—since that simple, perfect sentence cracked something open inside of you and refused to let it close again.

god, you were so fucking hot. why don’t you let me see what more you’re capable of doing?

you didn’t answer at first. not out of disinterest or shock, but because your breath caught in your throat and refused to let go. because your body lit up in a way it hadn’t in years. because the sudden heat that flooded your skin felt so raw, so consuming, you didn’t know if it came from fear or desire or both. you stared at the message in the dark of your room, the sound of your breath uneven, your fingers hovering over the screen like it might burn you.

and then you said yes.

you haven’t looked away from him since.

you haven’t stopped thinking about the way his voice curls into your ears, low and patient and warm with something just shy of menace—how he never tries to impress you, never tries to talk himself up, just says what he means and means what he says. you still haven’t seen his face. not fully. he’s careful with his camera, careful with his angles, his hair always falling into the frame and covering the details that might make him feel too real. but that doesn’t matter. because it’s not his face that made you agree.

he told you his name on the third night. not dramatically. not as a reveal. just tucked into the middle of a message like a comma.

heeseung. thought you should know.

and that was it. no last name. no photos. no follow-up. and for some reason, that made you trust it more.

the days since then have been slow and fast in turns. mornings feel stretched out, your body heavy with anticipation you don’t know how to burn off. nights feel electric—your phone screen the only light in the room, your fingers trembling as you read and reread everything he sends. he’s not always sweet. he’s not always careful. but he always makes you feel seen. he always reminds you that you said yes. and you keep saying yes, over and over, in every message you return.

until this morning, when the yes had to become real.

because today’s the day. tonight’s the night. and he’s waiting.

your bag is half-packed. your body is half-numb. you’ve been staring into your closet for twenty minutes now, unsure of what it means to dress for someone who’s already seen you at your most bare—someone who watched you fall apart in silence, whose voice sat in your head while your fingers pushed deeper into yourself than they ever had before.

he told you to bring whatever makes you feel good.

and you wish you knew what that was.

you tug down a black lace lingerie, something you bought months ago and never wore—something that felt too bold, too obvious, too much skin. you smooth it out over your bed with slow, reverent hands, then lay a silk robe beside it. then another option. then another. the pile grows until it looks more like you’re preparing to become someone else than getting dressed. because maybe that’s what this is. not a costume. not a mask. but a version of yourself that hasn’t been touched yet. one that only lives in the shadow of a camera light.

you fold everything slowly. precise. intentional. like the way you pack will dictate the way he undresses you.

be ready by 7.

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you don’t remember the drive—not in any clear way, not in the kind of way that leaves images you can describe. you remember the sound of your bag shifting across the seat beside you, the constant press of your thighs against each other beneath your hoodie, the way your fingers curled into the hem like they were holding on for stability. you remember the driver didn’t speak, and you were grateful. you didn’t think you could have formed a sentence anyway. the city moved around you in streaks and shadows, lights bleeding into the windows like soft threats, buildings you couldn’t name passing in patterns you didn’t register. your stomach stays tight the whole way, curled in on itself with the kind of heat that makes you feel nauseous, but not sick. it wasn’t fear in the way most people feel fear. it was quieter. heavier. like your body was preparing itself for something it had never done before, but had already decided it would endure.

the car slows, and you know before the driver says anything that you’ve arrived. something in your chest drops, cold and sudden, and it stays there as you look out the window. the building is sleek. modern. smooth walls and quiet lighting. tall glass that reflects just enough to keep the inside hidden. it looks expensive. clinical. the kind of place people rent for short terms, the kind of place that doesn’t hold stories—just moments. 

your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you flinch even though you were expecting it.

unit 603.

you stare at the words, fingers gripping your phone tighter than you mean to. your eyes trace the message once, then again. it’s not dramatic. not aggressive. just information. a direction. a point of no return.

your lips part. not to speak—just to breathe. just to test if you still can. you turn your head toward the driver, your mouth opens like you might ask him to keep going, to turn the car around, to pretend none of this happened. maybe you’ll say you made a mistake. maybe you’ll lie and say you have the wrong building. maybe you won’t say anything at all—you’ll just go home, crawl into bed, and forget that this ever felt real enough to chase. but you don’t. the air stays trapped in your throat, and the words never come.

because you remember why you’re here.

you remember the numbers at the bottom of your bank statement. you remember the rent due in four days. you remember the red stamp on that envelope and the way you stood in the corner of your kitchen with your heart thudding so loud it felt like it might shake your teeth loose. you remember your first video—the shaky way your hands touched your skin, the breathy little moans you tried to bite back, the way your legs trembled when you came—and how that one night covered groceries for the week. the one that paid for a quarter of your tuition bill. you remember the messages. the tips. the strange little thrill that came with being seen.

so you open the door and step out into the cold.

the night wraps around you immediately. the air has a bite to it—nothing violent, just enough to raise goosebumps along the backs of your thighs. you adjust your hoodie and sling your bag higher onto your shoulder as you approach the building, heart thumping with a rhythm that doesn’t match your pace. the inside is even quieter than it looked from the outside—soft lighting, clean tile, no front desk, no noise. you walk toward the elevator like your body’s been programmed to do it, and when the doors open with a sound that feels too loud in your ears, you step inside and keep your eyes down.

the mirrored walls don’t help. they catch you from every angle, all soft curves and stiff limbs and the subtle trembling of your fingers where they press against your thigh. you don’t look at your face. you know what you’ll see. too much. too vulnerable. too obvious.

the ride is short but unbearable.

each number lights up like a warning.

and then the doors part again, and you’re stepping into a hallway that looks like all the others—long, narrow, lit with warm bulbs that hum faintly overhead. the carpet swallows the sound of your steps. you feel like a ghost. like someone halfway between becoming and undoing.

unit 603 is near the end.

you don’t rush toward it. you walk slowly. deliberately. like your body is stalling, trying to delay what’s inevitable. like maybe if you just slow down enough, the tension will go away. the heat in your stomach will ease. 

it doesn’t.

you stop in front of the door and just stand there. you don’t reach for the handle. you don’t knock. you don’t breathe. you just… exist, trembling slightly, caught in the kind of silence that feels like it should be protected.

your eyes drop to your feet. you shift your weight. the strap of your bag digs into your shoulder, and your hand reaches for it without thinking, like it might steady you. your other hand hovers near the door, fingers flexing once, twice, like they want to touch something they don’t believe they deserve.

you don’t knock.

you don’t have to.

you could leave.

you could turn around right now. no one’s seen you yet. you could head back to the elevator, back down to the street, call a new ride, go home, crawl into your bed and cry about it later. tell yourself you’ll find a different way to get the money. a different life.

your heel shifts.

your body starts to turn.

and then, quietly—smoothly—the door opens.

you freeze.

the hallway holds its breath with you.

you don’t know what you expected to see. you don’t know what you hoped he’d look like. you don’t know if you even dared to imagine. maybe you thought he wouldn’t answer. maybe you thought you’d stand out here until the hallway lights went out and the quiet pressed into your lungs so tightly you couldn’t take it anymore. maybe you thought you’d be strong enough to leave.

but now the door is open.

and he’s real.

and everything in your body goes still.

your eyes widen instantly, and for a full second—maybe two—you forget how to move. your fingers curl tighter around the strap of your bag, breath caught at the base of your throat, chest tightening like it’s reacting to something it never thought it would see in real life. because there he is. standing just inches from you. real. solid. and so painfully beautiful it almost feels cruel.

he’s tall, taller than you imagined, his frame filling the doorway with a presence that makes everything behind him blur. his body is broad and built in a way that feels effortless, like he was never trying to be impressive—he just is. his arms are bare, exposed by the loose black tank that clings to the outline of his torso and drapes perfectly over the swell of his chest. his skin is smooth and golden, glowing faintly under the warm hall light, veins barely visible where they run down his thick forearms. he looks strong in the way that matters—not for show, not posed—but like he knows how to use every inch of himself. like he could hold you up and tear you open in the same breath.

his hair is the same cotton candy pink from his previews, but messier now—soft strands falling over his forehead in loose waves, the ends curling just slightly where they brush against his temple. it looks like he’s been running his hands through it all day, and the idea of those hands—big, rough, ringed—tangled in your hair, gripping your hips, wrapped around your throat—makes your stomach twist so tightly you have to shift your weight. a few strands cling to the side of his cheek, the light catching on the moisture like maybe he just showered, or maybe he’s been waiting. pacing. preparing.

his ears are a constellation of silver, pierced through with hoops and cuffs and studs that glitter faintly each time he shifts. one of them dangles slightly—a thin, delicate chain brushing the edge of his jaw. and then your eyes land on his mouth.

and you stop thinking altogether.

his lips are almost too pink. full, soft-looking, the kind that look like they’d leave a stain on your skin no matter where they touched. he has the faintest indent of a bite mark on the lower one, like he’d been chewing at it without realizing, and it glistens slightly with the sheen of spit or gloss or both. you don’t know if you want to kiss him or watch him speak. maybe both. maybe forever.

and then his eyes meet yours.

brown. impossibly dark, but warm. deep in a way that makes you feel like you’ve already said too much, like he’s pulling the truth out of you just by looking. they glimmer faintly in the low light, lined with thick lashes that make him look devastatingly pretty and disarmingly unreadable all at once. there’s a slight drop to his gaze, heavy-lidded like he’s already seeing you undressed. like he’s been seeing you that way from the moment you said yes.

they remind you of boba pearls—glossy and rich and bottomless. and just as dangerous. you feel like you could fall into them without realizing you were drowning until it was already too late.

you’re frozen.

completely and utterly off guard.

this is not what you expected. not what you prepared for. not the image you tried to sketch in your head based on his previews. you thought he might be attractive, sure—maybe even cocky. you assumed he’d be confident, comfortable in his skin, maybe a little smug about how much he’s watched you. but this?

this is something else entirely.

he’s not just beautiful. he’s unreal. he looks like something that stepped out of the fantasy you didn’t even know how to finish. and he’s looking at you like you’re the one that took too long to arrive.

he smirks, soft and knowing. 

“i knew you’d still be here.”

his voice doesn’t just sound good. it sounds dangerous. smooth and rich and low enough to sink through the fabric of your hoodie and press directly into your skin. it’s slower than you expected, a little raspier, like it’s made for private conversations and whispered commands. it doesn’t rise above a murmur, but it fills the space between you completely. it curls under your ears and down your neck and makes your stomach dip so hard it steals your balance for half a second.

you swallow, but your throat is dry.

your heart flutters violently against your ribs, pounding loud enough you wonder if he can hear it. your lips part slightly, maybe to say something, maybe just to breathe, but no sound comes out. your tongue feels too heavy. your mouth is too unsure. and the last thing you want to do is stutter over yourself while he’s standing there, relaxed and perfect and waiting.

your eyebrows pinch together without meaning to—just a small, confused furrow, like your body is trying to process what your brain can’t catch up to. you hadn’t thought this far ahead. hadn’t planned for what it would feel like to be seen like this. not through a screen. not through a message. but here. in person. under his eyes.

you thought you were prepared.

you were wrong.

he doesn’t say anything at first. he just stands there in the doorway, holding it open like it weighs nothing, while your whole body feels impossibly heavy. his gaze is steady, quiet, unwavering—not intense, not invasive, just there. patient. like he’s not surprised you showed up, like he always knew you would. like this moment was never a question.

when he finally shifts to the side, it’s a small, effortless movement—barely more than a step—but it sends something sharp through your chest. he doesn’t gesture. he doesn’t usher you in or flash a grin or try to ease the nerves that are curling tighter in your stomach. he just opens the space. clears the path. leaves it entirely up to you.

you hesitate for a beat longer than you mean to. the hallway feels colder now, the air thinner somehow. your fingers twitch where they’re clenched around the strap of your bag, your heartbeat pressing against the inside of your ribs like it wants out. but your legs move. maybe from instinct, maybe from need, maybe because part of you knows that if you don’t do it now, you never will.

you cross the threshold.

the air inside is warm—soft and still, carrying the faintest trace of something unfamiliar and expensive, something dark and clean and musky like amber or smoke. it hits you in a slow wave, curling up your nose and settling in the back of your throat. you take a shallow breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. everything feels too quiet now. too private. the silence inside the apartment is thicker than the silence outside, not empty, but full—of tension, of weight, of waiting. like the walls know what’s about to happen. like they’ve already seen it a hundred times.

you take a few careful steps forward and stop just inside, unsure what to do with yourself. unsure where to stand, unsure what to look at. your body is taut with nerves and anticipation, your hands suddenly too aware of themselves. your mouth is dry. the sound of the door clicking closed behind you is sharp in your ears, the lock sliding into place like a thread being pulled tight.

you don’t turn to look at him. you can’t. not yet.

his apartment is clean, but not in a soulless way. everything is curated. intentional. the lights are low and warm, tucked beneath shelves and mounted in corners, glowing like dusk instead of buzzing like daylight. the walls are matte, smooth concrete or something close to it, and the furniture is dark—black, deep gray, the kind of colors that drink light instead of reflecting it. a massive bed dominates the space, not tucked into a corner, not hidden behind doors, but bold and unashamed in the middle of the room. the sheets are dark. rumpled. there's a throw blanket tangled at the end, half falling over the side. and scattered around the perimeter of the space, you spot his gear—tripods, light stands, cameras. they’re sleek and familiar, but somehow more intimidating now that they’re not behind a screen.

he gestures toward the kitchen with a small tilt of his head, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back as he leads the way, not forceful—just present. his touch is gentle, careful, a whisper against fabric that leaves warmth in its place as you follow the slow rhythm of his stride. the kitchen glows in soft amber light, casting long shadows across the clean counters and illuminating the faint sheen of condensation on the glass he’s set out for you. it’s quiet here, the kind of quiet that doesn’t press but cradles, wrapping around your shoulders like a weighted blanket. he moves like the silence belongs to him, like he’s always known how to make space feel soft instead of suffocating. the air smells like faint vanilla and spice, like clean linen and a memory you can’t name. you slide onto the stool he pulled out for you, your palms damp against your thighs, the hem of your hoodie gathered loosely in your grip. heeseung remains standing across from you, arms braced on the counter, eyes soft but intent as they meet yours.

“before anything else,” he begins, voice low and smooth, every word laid down like silk on stone, “i want to talk about boundaries.” he doesn’t blink too much when he speaks, doesn’t fidget, just holds your gaze with something steady, like it’s not a challenge but a promise. his hands spread slightly against the marble surface, fingers relaxed, the veins on his forearms faint but visible beneath warm skin. he’s not performing. he’s not playing a part. it’s in the way he waits—silent after each phrase, giving you room to process, not expecting your answer before you’re ready to offer it. “if there’s anything you don’t want to do, say it. if you change your mind mid-way, say it. we stop whenever you say stop, and i won’t ask why.” there’s nothing rehearsed in his tone, no false sweetness, only care shaped by confidence and restraint.

you nod slowly, your eyes dipping toward the glass he set in front of you, its surface dewy against the soft light. your throat is dry, but your voice finds its way through the haze, low and hesitant but certain. “i’m okay with most things,” you say, the words trembling slightly as they leave your lips. he nods as you speak, never interrupting, never shifting his weight too abruptly, like he wants you to feel the space between each word instead of rushing past it. “but it’s been a while,” you admit, your shoulders curling inward slightly, your hands clasping together in your lap. he doesn’t react with surprise or even curiosity—just attentiveness, the kind that feels like a door being held open instead of a window being peered into. “and… i don’t want to show my face,” you finish, the truth dropping into the space between you with more weight than anything else you’ve said. “i want to stay anonymous.”

his expression doesn’t flicker, doesn’t shift into confusion or disappointment—it deepens, softens even, like your request settles into place with ease. “we’ll work around that,” he says, the certainty in his voice firm enough to anchor you, even as your nerves start to pool low in your stomach again. “no face, no identifiers. close shots, over-the-shoulder angles, shallow focus. i’ve done it before, and it works.” he moves slightly, adjusting the way he leans against the counter, one hand tapping once against the glass as if to ground the moment. “this is about what makes you feel good, not what the camera sees,” he adds, voice dipping even lower, like it’s meant to reach beneath your skin. “if you don’t want the world to know it’s you, then they won’t.” your chest eases at that, something unspoken unraveling in your lungs. he doesn’t ask why. he just honors the request like it’s law.

you look up at him then, really look, and his gaze hasn’t drifted once—it’s still locked to yours, patient, open, unreadable but safe. he hasn’t made a single move to close the distance between you again, even though it would be easy. his restraint isn’t cold—it’s reverent, like he’s watching you bloom slowly and doesn’t want to bruise the petals. “thank you,” you say, quieter this time, the words heavy with relief you didn’t realize you were holding. he nods, a small motion that carries more weight than it should, then steps back just enough to gesture toward the hallway. “bathroom’s on the left if you want to change,” he says. “take your time.” you slide off the stool with a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your legs moving on instinct, the pulse between your ribs still uneven but quieter now. you clutch your bag loosely, fingers curled around the strap like a lifeline, and head towards the quiet hall.

the bathroom is clean and warm, wrapped in that same subtle scent of something smooth and expensive and low—soap and eucalyptus and a hint of whatever lived beneath his skin. you lock the door behind you gently, setting your bag on the closed toilet lid, your reflection already waiting for you in the wide mirror. the light here is softer than expected, casting a muted glow over the white tile and catching faintly on the metal fixtures, making everything feel a little too clear. you unzip your bag slowly, each sound exaggerated in the quiet, each movement deliberate but hesitant. the fabric of your hoodie feels heavier now, like it doesn’t want to be peeled away, but you force your hands to keep moving. you fold your jeans with care and lift the set from your bag, the lace cool against your fingers. you pull it on carefully, the straps snug where they wrap around your shoulders, the softness of the fabric suddenly feeling like too much.

you face the mirror again, eyes sweeping slowly over the new version of yourself standing there—exposed, yes, but not ruined. the lingerie hugs you in all the places you thought you wanted to hide, lifting and shaping you into something elegant, something quiet but striking. but even as you look, your stomach knots. you think of the camera. of your body in motion. of being watched, of being remembered. of existing somewhere outside yourself. the doubts creep in slowly, delicate as poison—what if you look awkward? what if you can’t do it? what if he’s disappointed the second he sees you? your fingers brace against the sink, palms flat, knuckles pale, your breathing shallow and uneven. for a moment, you wonder if you should leave before it starts.

but then you think of his voice again—measured, thoughtful, unrushed. you’re in control here. you remember how he looked at you—not like something to consume, but something to hold, to coax open with time. your chest rises and falls once more, slower this time, deeper, steadier. you adjust one last strap, swipe your thumb beneath your bottom lip, and blink once at your reflection. she doesn’t look scared anymore. she looks like someone beginning. you reach for the doorknob and step out into the hallway, the cool air brushing against your skin, your pulse quickening with every step back toward him. and you know, as your bare feet sink silently into the dark flooring—that you’re about to let someone see you, truly, maybe for the first time.

when you return to the room, the silence greets you like a held breath, still and warm and heavier now, coiled around the soft glow of ambient light and the faint hum of something electric in the walls. heeseung is standing near the kitchen still, his posture easy but not casual, one hand resting lightly against the counter, the other falling slowly to his side as he looks at you. his eyes catch on the shape of you like he wasn’t prepared, like he thought he was but somehow still feels like the floor just dropped out beneath him. his gaze sweeps down, slow and deliberate, not in hunger but in reverence, like he’s taking in something rare he’s never seen in full daylight. he doesn’t speak right away, but the silence between you blooms like a confession, every second weighted with something unspoken but deeply understood. your bare feet shift against the hardwood, the coolness of it whispering up your calves, grounding you even as your breath begins to shallow. his lips part slightly, like he wants to say something—maybe a compliment, maybe a request—but nothing comes. and then finally, slowly, he steps forward.

his approach is quiet, not calculated but intentional, his body moving like it already knows how not to startle you, how not to rush, how not to steal. he stops a foot away from you, eyes still holding yours, one corner of his mouth lifted in something soft, something just shy of a smile. you can feel the heat radiating off of him now, feel the quiet pressure of his presence like it’s brushing against your collarbone, your ribs, your thighs. his hand lifts slowly, fingers hovering just beside your arm, and he doesn’t touch you—just lets the air between your skin and his feel thicker than it should. his voice, when it comes, is low and quiet and perfectly clear. “can i show you where we’ll start?” he asks. your lips part, and your nod is small, breathless, but sure. he waits a second longer, then gently tilts his head toward the center of the room.

the bed looks larger now than it did earlier, all shadow and suggestion, the dark linens catching the warm light and folding it into softness. you follow him slowly, each step silent, deliberate, your nerves curling into your spine and blooming down your arms like smoke. the mattress dips faintly under your weight as you sit, the fabric cool beneath your thighs, your back straight but uncertain. heeseung lowers himself beside you, not quite touching, his knees bent and body angled toward yours like he’s shielding you from the rest of the room. his hand rests on the bed between you, close enough that your pinky grazes his knuckle, but he still doesn’t reach. his eyes find yours again, deeper now, full of something steadier than want. he breathes in, slow and even, his tongue wetting his bottom lip before he speaks. “can i kiss you?” he asks, and it’s not a whisper—it’s a vow.

your heart stutters in your chest, not from fear, not from surprise, but from the weight of being asked—of being given the choice. the air around you hums with heat, not the kind that scorches but the kind that builds, lingers, waits for ignition. you meet his eyes fully now, let yourself hold there, let him see what it means for you to say yes. your voice is quiet when it comes, but steady, a single word laced with permission. “yes.” he doesn’t move all at once—he moves like something precious, something unfolding, his hand lifting first to cup your jaw, fingers warm where they press against your cheek. your breath catches when he leans in, not because you’re afraid, but because you’ve never been kissed like this—not yet, not even now. his nose brushes yours, a breath shared in the space between, and then, gently, he closes the gap.

his lips are soft but sure, pressing against yours with a slow ache that makes your knees curl into the mattress and your fingers tighten in your lap. he kisses you like he’s reading you, like every tilt of his head is a question and every pull of his lips is an answer you didn’t know you could give. his hand stays on your jaw, his thumb tracing lightly against your cheekbone, grounding you even as your pulse picks up. there’s no rush, no hunger, no desperation—just heat, slow and sinking, pouring into your spine and rising up behind your ribs. you kiss him back with equal weight, not matching his rhythm but meeting it, finding your own within it. the room feels quieter now, the lights dimmer, the air denser with the sound of your shared breathing and the subtle hitch of your chest when he shifts closer. his other hand moves to your thigh, not gripping, just resting there, heavy and warm.

when he pulls back, it’s not abrupt—it’s a soft retreat, like he’s giving you time to breathe, to think, to want more. he stays close, his forehead resting lightly against yours, the bridge of his nose brushing your own, his thumb still stroking your cheek. his eyes are closed for a moment, and when they open again, there’s something darker in them—still soft, but heavier now, like want coiled behind patience. you don’t speak. you don’t need to. your body is already leaning forward again, your lips parting just slightly as your breath mingles with his. he waits, just a second, just to be sure, and then you feel the kiss again—deeper this time, fuller, still slow but firmer, like he’s letting go of a layer he’d been holding back. your hand lifts to his chest, pressing lightly against the cotton of his shirt, feeling the heat of him through the fabric, the steady beat of his heart.

you’re not sure when it happens—when your thighs brush, when his hand slides slightly higher on your leg, when your breath comes faster—but it’s there now, pulsing between your bodies. you’re not overwhelmed. you’re alive. every nerve alert, every part of you tuned to the press of his mouth and the pressure of his palm and the low sound he makes when your lips part just enough for him to taste you. it’s not just a kiss—it’s something more deliberate. a grounding. a beginning. and it feels exactly like it should. when he pulls away again, his eyes meet yours, searching—not for doubt, but for reassurance, for confirmation that you’re still here, still with him, still choosing this. and you are.

he doesn’t rush the question—he asks it like he’s offering you the last word in a language only the two of you speak. “are you ready?” heeseung says, and it sounds less like a formality and more like a thread of silk brushing across your skin, soft and waiting. you pause for half a breath, letting the moment linger there between your chest and his voice, letting it settle just behind your ribs. you meet his eyes, steady now, your heart loud but your voice quiet and sure. “yes,” you answer, and it lands softly, but it rings through the room like a bell. heeseung gives you a single nod—silent, smooth, composed—and then turns slightly toward the camera. the lens is positioned precisely, angled just enough to capture the space you share while keeping your identity untouched. he reaches for the remote resting on the bedside table, presses one button, and the soft red light comes on.

the room doesn’t change when it starts recording—it just feels heavier. the silence stretches a little longer, the air thickens a little deeper, and your skin starts to feel like it’s holding more than just heat. he doesn’t turn to the camera. he doesn’t acknowledge the lens. his eyes are on you, and only you. heeseung takes a slow breath and shifts his position on the bed, moving a little closer, the dip of the mattress drawing your knees toward his. his hand reaches up, fingertips brushing lightly against your jaw, and his touch is warm, sure, almost grounding. he watches your reaction like it’s the only thing he needs to see to move forward—like your body gives permission long before your mouth does. “can i kiss you?” he asks again, even now, when you’ve already said yes to everything else. and when you nod—small, breathless, trembling a little—he moves in with a reverence that feels like worship.

his lips meet yours with the kind of care that makes your chest ache, a kiss not rushed or shallow but deliberate, slow and full of intention. he doesn’t press for more than you give—he lets the rhythm unfold with time, lets your lips part when they’re ready, lets the tension curl warm and slow between your knees. his hand stays cradling your cheek, thumb stroking the soft skin just beneath your eye, as if he’s memorizing the exact way you feel beneath his fingers. your breath stutters slightly when the kiss deepens, when his mouth opens just enough to taste you, when your tongue brushes his in something quiet but certain. his other hand finds your thigh again, not moving higher, not demanding, just resting there—heavy and warm and present. you kiss him back with something softer than desperation, something more vulnerable than lust. your fingers twitch, aching to hold onto something, and when they finally curl into the edge of his shirt, he lets out a breath that sounds a little too much like relief.

he doesn’t speak when he pulls back—he just watches you, eyes dark and steady, breathing a little heavier than before. your forehead brushes his, your mouths still so close they could reunite with a single breath, and the quiet feels louder now than anything else in the room. you feel his fingers flex against your thigh once, like he’s holding something back, like he’s still giving you room to shift or stop or say anything else. but you don’t. you just nod again, slower this time, your eyes half-lidded, mouth still tingling with the press of his. “good,” he whispers, and the word moves through you like heat. then his hand slides—just slightly, just above your knee—tracing the edge of your thigh with the same patience he kissed you with.

his lips find yours again before the silence can thicken too much, and this time the kiss is heavier, more certain, laced with the tension that’s been building since you stepped inside his apartment. his hand doesn’t rush higher, doesn’t slide beneath your lace just yet—it just lingers, exploring the softness of your skin in slow strokes that burn like silk dragged over bare flame. you part your lips more eagerly now, letting him taste the corners of your breath, letting his tongue find yours in something messier, something that leaves your lungs stuttering and your thighs tightening together. your fingers drag up his chest, slow and careful, the fabric of his shirt warm beneath your touch, the steady drum of his heart loud enough to match your own. heeseung groans softly against your mouth when your grip tightens—low and hushed, like the sound slipped out without permission.

when he pulls back again, it’s only to look at you—really look, his gaze trailing from your eyes down to your lips, then back again, lingering like he doesn’t know where he wants to settle most. your breathing is ragged now, lips kiss-bruised and chest rising in slow, uneven swells, your hands still resting against his collarbones like you’re afraid he might float away if you let go. his thumb brushes across your bottom lip once, dragging lightly over the spot where his teeth had pressed seconds before. “you okay?” he murmurs, not because he thinks you’re not—but because he wants to hear it from you. you nod again, slower this time, your voice catching in your throat as you answer. “yes,” you whisper, and your legs shift slightly where they’re tucked under you on the bed.

heeseung leans in again—not to kiss you this time, but to trail his nose down the curve of your cheek, to inhale the scent of your skin where it glows faintly warm. his lips press against the corner of your mouth, then the edge of your jaw, slow and reverent, like he’s tasting gratitude. his hand moves again, slightly higher this time, fingertips tracing the underside of your thigh, still careful, still asking. his lips find your collarbone, pressing once, then again, just beneath the strap of your lingerie. his teeth graze the edge of your skin there, not biting, just lingering, a question written in touch instead of speech. and when you tilt your head to give him more room, heeseung breathes out a soft, broken sound against your neck that makes your core clench and your pulse spike.

“you like that, baby?” he asks, his voice husky against your skin, his teeth grazing your shoulder—but never biting, never hard enough to leave a trace. you nod, breathless, and tilt your head back further, offering your throat like instinct, letting him kiss and suck and worship without ever crossing the boundary. his hand tightens gently around your thigh, holding you still as your hips roll against his palm, wetness soaking through the lace with each drag. the moan you let out is quiet but needy, slipping out against his ear as he nuzzles beneath it and hums in return.

his fingers pause just at the hem of the lace, the pads of them slipping under with a kind of patience that makes your lungs seize and your hips twitch. the fabric drags slightly against your folds as he shifts it to the side, the air hitting your bare heat and making you tremble despite the warmth of the room. he groans under his breath when he finally feels you, his fingertips gliding slowly through your slick, parting you so delicately it makes you clench around nothing. your thighs try to close out of reflex, but his palm presses gently against the inside of one, guiding them apart without force—just the weight of intent. his mouth is still at your neck, lips soft, kissing lazily beneath your jaw as if he isn’t already making you fall apart with nothing but his hand. “you’re soaked for me,” he breathes, lips brushing the edge of your earlobe now, and the sound of it nearly makes you whimper. his fingers drag through your folds again, this time stopping at your clit, circling it slowly in wet, aching spirals. you’re already shaking, your head dropping back slightly as the pleasure coils tighter in your core.

heeseung doesn’t rush the motion, doesn’t press harder than necessary, just works your clit with the kind of care that makes your vision blur and your body hum with electricity. his fingers are long and warm, slick with you, moving in soft, controlled circles that never lose rhythm, never falter. every time your hips shift to chase the pressure, he meets you halfway, adjusting the angle, letting you grind subtly against the heel of his palm. his other hand stays at your waist now, anchoring you in place, thumb rubbing gentle strokes into your hip like he’s reminding you to stay with him. his mouth hasn’t left your neck, only moved lower, teeth grazing your skin without ever biting, lips pressing over every place your pulse flutters wild beneath your flesh. “that’s it,” he whispers, low and soothing, “just like that, baby…” your breath is broken now, little gasps slipping out between parted lips, and you can barely keep your eyes open, your lashes fluttering as the pleasure builds deeper in your belly. your fingers reach for his arm, gripping at his wrist like it’s the only thing tethering you to the bed beneath you.

he kisses down your neck with the same rhythm he’s touching you, soft and unhurried, lips brushing along the delicate edge of your collarbone like he wants to memorize it with his mouth. your skin is warm beneath his tongue, flushed and trembling, and his breath leaves it damp as he continues to move lower. his fingers never stop working your clit, thumb pressed gently but firmly, circling in slow, wet loops that make your thighs twitch and your hips rock forward on instinct. you can feel the weight of him between your legs without him even being there yet, just his hand and his mouth and the thick tension swirling in your core like a storm waiting to snap. he lifts his head for a moment to look at you—eyes dark, wide, mouth flushed from kissing your skin—and the way he looks at you makes something ache deep in your chest. “you tell me if it’s too much, okay?” and when you nod, breathless and already shaking, he finally slides his middle finger down and pushes it slowly inside.

you gasp—high and sharp, your mouth falling open as the stretch hits, not painful but deep, too real, too much after so long without. his finger sinks in carefully, inch by inch, and he watches your face the whole time, like every twitch in your brow and shift in your hips is more important than anything else in the world. your walls pulse around him, already clenching tight, wet and warm and so reactive his jaw tightens with the effort of keeping his own hips still. he exhales against your collarbone and presses his lips there again, kissing gently as he begins to move the finger in and out, slow and shallow. his thumb keeps working your clit, synced perfectly with the curl of his finger as he searches for that spot inside you that will make you crumble. you can’t speak—your breath is too staggered, your moans too broken to shape into words—but the way your body arches toward him says enough. “fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs, kissing just beneath the swell of your chest, his voice vibrating through your skin. “you’re perfect like this.”

your breath hitches when he curls the single finger inside you again, the slow glide of it dragging perfectly against your walls, thick and precise like he knows exactly where to touch without needing to be told. your body is already arching into him, your hips grinding down against his hand as the slick sounds between your thighs grow louder, needier, messier. he doesn’t tease—not once—he keeps the rhythm steady, intentional, with every motion designed to draw the tension higher, to coax your body open instead of ripping it wide. when your walls begin to flutter, tightening around him with the kind of resistance that begs for more, he presses a kiss to your sternum, right between your breasts, and lifts his head just slightly. “gonna give you two, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing over your skin as he speaks, his voice dark and low and reverent. “i want you to take it slow for me, yeah?” you nod, breathless, your nails digging into his forearm as his finger slowly pulls out. the moment his second finger presses in beside the first, your mouth falls open on a soft, broken moan. the stretch burns for a second, sharp and thick, but his thumb keeps circling your clit, and the pleasure blooms fast enough to swallow the sting.

his lips part as he watches the way your body reacts—your thighs trembling, your hips jerking up, your slick coating his fingers as he begins to move them in a slow, twisting rhythm that makes your stomach flutter. heeseung groans softly, his forehead brushing your chest as he sinks lower, dragging the flat of his tongue along the curve of your breast with aching care. “so fucking tight,” he breathes against your skin, his voice thick with restraint, his jaw clenched as your pussy clenches down on his fingers. “you feel unbelievable, baby.” his mouth moves to your breast, kissing softly over the top of it, then trailing down until his lips brush over your nipple through the thin lace. he sucks gently, just enough to make you whimper, and the combination of his mouth and his hand makes your eyes roll back into your head. his fingers curl inside you again, deeper this time, pressing right against that spot that makes your whole body jerk, and he doesn’t stop—he does it again, and again, and again. your back arches off the bed, your fingers clutching the sheets now, your breath coming in broken little pants that you can’t control.

he pulls the lace down with his teeth—slow and controlled, his mouth never leaving your skin—and when your nipple is bare, he takes it into his mouth like it’s something sacred. the suction is warm, wet, steady, and his tongue flicks just enough to make your core tighten dangerously around his fingers. every motion feels choreographed, like his entire body is synced to yours—your breath, your pulse, your need, all dictating the way he moves. his fingers fuck into you slow but deep, knuckles brushing your soaked entrance with every stroke, the squelch of your arousal thick in the air between your bodies. his thumb never leaves your clit, drawing small, precise circles that keep you trembling, unable to come down from the tension he keeps pulling tighter and tighter. “you’re doing so good,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your chest, “taking me so well, baby, just like that.” your hands move instinctively, threading into his hair, tugging gently at the soft strands as your head tips back into the pillow. he groans at the touch—low and needy—and his pace shifts slightly, fingers thrusting just a little faster, a little rougher, still watching your every breath.

your thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably, the pleasure peaking in your lower belly, every muscle tensing like you’re caught on the edge of something massive. you can barely speak, barely form a thought, the only thing in your mind is him—his hand, his mouth, the deep pull of his voice every time he praises you. he lets go of your nipple only to kiss a path across your chest to the other, his lips never leaving your skin, his breath fanning out over every inch he touches. “you gonna cum for me?” he whispers, his voice shaking now, wrecked with how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’ve soaked his hand with nothing but slow kisses and a little praise. “let me feel you cum, sweetheart.” your body jerks when his thumb presses harder against your clit, circling faster, and your moan breaks—loud, breathy, raw. your hips buck, your walls clamp down around his fingers, and everything inside you snaps.

you cum with a force that steals your breath, your body seizing beneath him, your voice reduced to high, desperate whimpers as the orgasm crashes through you. he doesn’t stop—his fingers slow but stay buried inside you, his thumb softening into soothing strokes, guiding you through the aftershocks as your legs tremble and your stomach flutters. his lips kiss over your chest again, murmuring sweet, quiet things into your skin—“so good for me,” “so beautiful,” “you’re perfect like this”—until the tension in your limbs begins to fade. he finally pulls his fingers out, slowly, carefully, and your pussy twitches with the absence, fluttering around nothing, still dripping with your release. he lifts his hand, coated in your slick, and glances at you once with heat in his eyes before licking his fingers clean, slow and shameless. your chest rises and falls in uneven waves, your eyes glassy, your thighs sticky and trembling where they rest open. and all he does is smile—soft, sinful, and absolutely wrecked—with the taste of you still on his tongue.

he climbs over you slowly, the mattress shifting with his weight as he settles between your legs, his thighs bracketing yours while your slick coats the sheets beneath you. his hands press gently into your hips, guiding you back into the center of the bed, keeping you open for him as his mouth finds your throat again. you feel the heavy drag of his cock through his sweatpants, thick and hard, pressing flush against your soaked slit with nothing but damp fabric between you. the sensation makes your head fall back into the pillow, a sharp gasp catching in your throat as your hips roll up, grinding against him without even meaning to. he groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates in his chest and melts into the curve of your neck as his lips drag down to your shoulder. “fuck… you feel that?” he rasps, his hips rocking down just once, slow and deliberate, forcing a desperate moan from the back of your throat. he grinds again, firmer this time, the head of his cock catching perfectly against your clit through the soaked material, and it makes your eyes flutter closed. “so messy for me already, baby.”

your moan slips out before you can stop it, soft and high and cracked open with heat. 

“heeseung…” his name trembling on your tongue like a secret that finally escaped. his whole body jerks at the sound, like he wasn’t expecting to hear it, like it did something to him that he wasn’t ready for. he lifts his head, eyes dark and wide and hungry, his breath hot against your cheek as his hand slides up to cup your jaw. “say that again,” he breathes, thumb brushing your bottom lip, voice low and tight like he’s barely holding it together. “please, baby—say my name again.” you do—whispered at first, then louder, your moan broken around it as your hips buck up into his again, grinding shamelessly into the thick line of his cock. “heeseung…” you whimper, and he lets out a sound that’s half a growl, half a praise, pressing his forehead to yours as his hips grind down harder. “fuck, just like that,” he groans. “keep saying it. don’t stop.”

you can barely think anymore, the friction dragging over your sensitive clit, your core still pulsing from your orgasm, your skin too hot and your breath too fast. heeseung keeps rocking against you, not thrusting, just grinding, slow and deep, letting the drag of his cock over your soaked folds speak for itself. every roll of his hips pushes a new moan from your mouth, and every time his name leaves your lips, his rhythm falters like he’s losing control one syllable at a time. he’s not speaking now—just breathing, hard and fast, his mouth open against your shoulder as he chases the pressure, the heat, the tension pulling tight in his spine. his hands are on your hips again, holding you down as you writhe beneath him, his name falling from your lips in messy, broken cries that make his cock twitch harder against you. “god, you’re driving me fucking insane,” he chokes out, grinding harder now, faster, like he needs the friction or he’s going to snap. “i could cum like this—just like this, fuck—just from you saying my name like that.”

you’re soaked again already, the wet drag of your pussy against his cock leaving a dark, sticky stain on his sweats, and the sound of it makes your face burn. he kisses your jaw again, his lips soft and reverent, like he’s grounding himself before he loses what little control he has left. “you make me so fucking hard, baby,” he groans, voice rough against your ear, “you don’t even know what you do to me.” his hips stutter as you arch up, grinding harder, needier, chasing the pressure and the weight of him and the sound of your name in his mouth. your fingers claw at his back now, slipping under his shirt, dragging your nails down the smooth muscle there as he grinds again and again. his name falls from your lips like a chant now, breathless and ruined and wrecked, and each time he reacts—his hips jerking, his teeth biting down on a moan, his hands gripping you tighter. “again,” he begs, lips at your throat. “say it again—please.”

heeseung pulls back just slightly, just enough to sit up on his knees between your thighs, the cool air brushing over your sticky skin in the wake of his body. his eyes never leave you as he lifts his shirt with one hand and tosses it aside, exposing lean lines and smooth muscle, his chest flushed with heat, his collarbones glistening faintly in the low light. your breath catches, and before you can even say anything, he’s dragging his fingers down the waistband of his sweats, sliding them low on his hips until his cock finally springs free—thick, hard, flushed deep red at the tip and already slicked with precum. your thighs twitch at the sight of him, your mouth parting on instinct as your eyes drop and your stomach coils at the sheer size of him. he watches you watch him, and the look on his face shifts into something darker—needier—like he knows exactly how you’re feeling. “you want it?” he asks, his voice a low rasp as he wraps a hand around the base and strokes once, slow and tight. “you wanna feel it, baby?” you nod quickly, breathless, the answer already written across your body in the way your legs part further, your back arches, your fingers curl into the sheets.

he lowers himself again, one hand steadying his cock, the other gripping your thigh as he settles between you, his body flush against yours once more. the first drag of him through your folds punches a moan straight out of you, loud and broken, your hips jolting upward as the thick head of his cock slides perfectly over your clit. heeseung groans low in his chest, teeth clenched as he guides himself back and forth, letting your slick coat his shaft, every motion slow and heavy and deliberate. “fuck—so wet,” he mutters, his voice wrecked, breath catching as the head of his cock catches at your entrance before he pulls back again. he doesn’t press in yet—he just teases you, again and again, the tip dragging down your slit, catching, slipping, soaking. “say it again,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth as he rocks his hips forward just enough to make you feel every inch of him. “say my name like you did before.” you moan it again—soft, breathless, full of want, and it makes him hiss through his teeth, his forehead dropping to yours.

he keeps moving his hips, sliding his cock over your pussy in slow, deep grinds that make the head catch at your entrance just enough to make your walls flutter and your thighs shake. heeseung’s breathing hard now, the muscles in his arms flexing beside your head, sweat starting to gather at the nape of his neck as he holds himself above you. “you feel that?” he groans, cock slick and heavy between your folds, grinding against your clit with every roll of his hips. “you feel how fucking hard i am for you?” you nod, gasping, your back arching off the bed as your body chases more pressure, more friction, more him. “i could do this all night,” he rasps, voice cracking against your throat. “just like this—grinding my cock on you while you moan my name like that.” 

“heeseung…fuck..” you whimper it again and he nearly loses it, his hips stuttering, cock twitching, precum smearing hot across your swollen clit. “fuck, baby. don’t stop.”

you don’t—you can’t. the way he feels against you is too much and still not enough, the thick head of his cock dragging through your folds, slicking you up more with every stroke. your pussy is dripping now, soaked and swollen and clenching on nothing, desperate for him, but he just keeps teasing—keeps grinding—like he’s determined to make you come again before he even gets inside. he leans down to kiss you again, tongue messy and breath ragged, and his hips roll deeper, grinding the head of his cock harder against your clit until you cry out into his mouth. “say it again,” he whispers between kisses, his voice hoarse, eyes burning into yours. “say it while i make you come just like this.” you moan it again and again—his name spilling off your lips like prayer, like surrender—and the sound of it makes him twitch, makes him curse, makes his cock slide lower and nudge right at your entrance again. you gasp, trembling, and he pulls back just barely, smirking against your lips. “yeah… just like that.”

heeseung doesn’t speak at first—he just looks at you, eyes locked to yours, breath coming heavy as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. the swollen head of his cock rests right against your soaked slit, and you feel it twitch, leaking more precum that drips down over your folds as you clench around nothing. his hand tightens on your thigh, holding you open for him, and when he pushes just the tip in, you both moan—his, low and broken in his chest, yours sharp and high as the stretch hits hard and fast. “fuck…” he breathes, voice cracking as his forehead drops against yours, “you’re so fucking tight.” your walls flutter around him already, pulling him in instinctively, and it takes everything in him not to sink in all at once. “relax for me,” he whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth as he strokes your side with his free hand, “breathe, baby… let me in.” you nod, your legs trembling, your nails digging into his biceps, and with one slow, steady push, he eases in another inch. the burn is intense, but it’s exactly what you need—he’s so big, so thick, and your body is clenching so hard it makes your vision blur.

he stills halfway in, giving you a second to adjust, his mouth pressed to your jaw as he breathes through his nose and murmurs softly into your skin. “you feel unreal,” he says, voice wrecked, like he’s speaking through gritted teeth just to keep control, “so warm… so wet… you’re fucking perfect.” your body trembles beneath him, thighs twitching, toes curling, your hips arching off the mattress in a slow, involuntary motion that makes him groan deep and filthy. his hands move to cradle your hips, holding you steady as he rolls his in return, easing another inch into your soaked heat. the stretch makes your eyes flutter shut, makes your mouth fall open in a breathless moan that turns into a plea, your fingers gripping the sheets now. “heeseung…” you cry, broken and sweet, and it makes his cock twitch deep inside you, his hips rocking forward until he’s fully seated, the base of him pressed snug to your aching folds. “fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his jaw clenched, sweat starting to bead along his temple, “you’re taking me so well, baby… so fucking good for me.”

he doesn’t move yet—he just stays there, deep inside you, letting your walls pulse and flutter around his cock while he kisses your temple and whispers through shaky breaths. your pussy clenches again, so tight and hot that he has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from coming too fast, and his hand lifts to brush your hair back from your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheekbone. “i can feel you squeezing me,” he whispers, so low it almost sounds reverent, “like your body doesn’t wanna let me go.” you nod, whimpering, your whole body buzzing from how full you are—how stretched, how completely consumed by him you feel. his cock fits inside you like it was made for it, like every vein and curve was molded to your walls, every inch pushing against spots you didn’t know were there. “you’re so deep,” you whisper, voice shaky, breath caught, and he presses a kiss to your lips again—soft, open-mouthed, messy. “i know, baby,” he says, and the way he says it—like it’s a promise—makes your whole body tremble again. “you want more?”

his hips pull back slowly, just enough to make you feel the stretch of his cock leaving your body, the drag so thick and heavy it makes your breath hitch. your walls flutter at the loss, already aching to be full again, but before the whine can slip out, heeseung thrusts forward—slow and smooth, burying himself back inside you until your bodies are flush again. the moan that escapes you is soft and breathless, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as your back arches, your chest pressing into his. “that’s it,” he breathes against your ear, his voice low and shaking with restraint, “just like that, baby—take it.” he sets a rhythm that’s deliberate, not fast, just deep—so deep—like every stroke is meant to make you remember the exact shape of him. the bed rocks beneath you in soft, steady pulses, the slick sound of your bodies filling the space between each breath. your pussy clenches around him with every thrust, soaking his cock with more wetness, and he groans, long and low, his mouth brushing the side of your neck. “you’re so fucking tight,” he says, the words barely a whisper, “you’re milking my cock, baby…”

you cry out his name again, broken and high, your voice shaking as your hips start to move in sync with his, meeting each stroke with the kind of desperation that makes your thighs burn. heeseung’s hand slides up your body, past your waist, your ribs, and finally settles around your throat—not squeezing, just holding, his thumb brushing softly against your jaw. “keep saying it,” he tells you, fucking you deeper now, his strokes heavier, thicker, the drag of his cock so intense it makes your eyes roll back. “say my name while i’m inside you.” and you do—his name tumbling out between gasps, your lips parted, your moans turning to pleading whispers that make his pace stutter. heeseung’s head drops to your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged, his teeth grazing your skin as he tries to keep control. “fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice raw now, wrecked, as he drives back in deeper. “you were made for this—you were made for me.” your nails dig into his back, dragging down his spine, your walls clenching again, tighter, hungrier.

his thrusts grow a little rougher now, not fast but more forceful, each one punching moans from your chest and making the bed creak beneath you. the rhythm is everything—steady and perfect, his hips rolling with precision, never breaking contact, always dragging back just to push deeper again. his hand on your throat moves to cradle your jaw now, tilting your head so he can kiss you, sloppy and breathless and open, your tongues tangling as you moan into each other’s mouths. his other hand grips your hip harder, holding you still as he grinds deep into your core, your clit brushing against his pelvis with every thrust. your pussy is soaking him now, slick dripping down his cock, your inner thighs sticky, your skin flushed and trembling. “you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, kissing down your neck again, “i could stay buried in you forever.” and he means it—you can hear it in the way he moans when your walls tighten, in the way he slows down just to feel it, in the way his voice cracks when he says your name again. “don’t stop, baby. don’t stop saying it.”

heeseung’s lips don’t leave your skin as he slowly starts to move again, his cock still deep inside you, twitching slightly from the last wave of pleasure. your body is warm and pliant beneath him, flushed and wrecked and trembling, but still hungry—your walls fluttering around him like they’re begging for more. he lifts his head slowly, brushing his thumb across your cheek, and you see it in his eyes—there’s no hesitation left, just need, raw and open and laced with something darker now. “turn over for me,” he murmurs, voice thick and low, like the words are dragging out of his throat from somewhere heavy. he leans back just enough to let his cock slide out, and even the loss of him makes your body ache, your pussy clenching at the emptiness. you move without thinking, already shifting beneath him, rolling to your stomach as your thighs tremble against the mattress. his hands are on your hips instantly, lifting you up just enough so your ass tilts higher, your chest pressed to the sheets, your back arched beautifully for him. “just like that, baby,” he groans, one hand sliding down your spine, the other gripping your ass as he positions himself behind you, “fucking perfect.”

you feel him again—his cock dragging slow between your soaked folds, thick and hot and still dripping with both of you as he lines himself back up with your entrance. your breath hitches when the head presses against your hole again, pushing in with that same slow, stretching pressure that makes your jaw drop open. he slides in deeper this time, the angle sharper, the thrust more intense as he sinks into you inch by inch, both of you moaning as he fills you back up completely. “fuck—you’re tighter like this,” he groans, hands gripping your hips hard now, thumbs digging into the softness of your skin as he pulls you back onto him. you’re gasping into the sheets, your hands fisting the covers, your knees spread wide as your pussy takes him all the way to the base. the new angle hits deeper, rougher—his cock dragging against spots that make you cry out, your body jolting with every thrust. “look at you,” he breathes, hips snapping forward, his cock slamming into you now with full control, “taking me so good, baby… so fucking deep.” your moans get louder, more desperate, your voice breaking on his name as you start to fall apart all over again.

he builds a rhythm that feels brutal and perfect, his hips slamming against your ass, the clap of skin on skin echoing through the room with every thrust. your walls are soaked now, slick running down your thighs, the mess of your first orgasm coating both of you and making every stroke louder, wetter, filthier. heeseung growls under his breath as he leans forward, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, gently pulling your head up so your cheek turns toward him. “say it again,” he demands, breath hot against your ear as he pounds into you from behind, “say my name while i fuck you like this.” your voice shakes as you sob it out—“heeseung, heeseung, heeseung”—and the sound of it makes his hips stutter, his grip tighten, his cock jerk inside you. “that’s it, baby—keep moaning for me,” he groans, his hand sliding down your front now, finding your clit again and rubbing tight circles while he keeps thrusting into you hard and deep. your legs tremble, your elbows give out, your chest sinking into the sheets as your second orgasm starts building fast, burning low and hot and uncontrollable.

his thrusts grow slower, deeper, deliberate again—not to ease you, but to let you feel it all, to make your body stretch around every inch of him like it’s learning him. he doesn’t say anything for a second, just breathes through clenched teeth, his hands gripping your hips like handles as he watches the way his cock disappears into your soaked pussy with every roll of his hips. your moans are soft and broken, spilling into the pillow as you push back to meet his rhythm, the pressure building inside you sharp and sweet. “you’re dripping, baby,” he pants, voice dark and strained, “can you hear that?” and you can—the filthy, wet squelch every time he fucks into you, your slick coating his cock, the mess of both your bodies echoing in the quiet room. his fingers tighten around your hips, dragging you into him harder now, the new angle hitting deeper, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix in a way that makes your back arch and your breath catch. “i’m not gonna stop,” he groans, and he means it—you can feel it in the way his body moves, like he’s addicted to the way you take him. “not until i feel you cum on me again.” his voice breaks on the last word, and you choke on a moan, your thighs already starting to tremble from how close you are.

his free hand slides down again, slipping between your legs to circle your clit with his fingers—still soaked from earlier, still trembling with how sensitive you are. “i know you’re close,” he says, breath hot against your back as he leans over you, his cock still grinding deep into your pussy with slow, firm thrusts, “i can feel it—you’re squeezing me so tight.” your body jerks under him, your hands clawing at the sheets, your moans broken and high as the pleasure builds higher, tighter, hotter. he doesn’t let up—not with his cock, not with his hand—he keeps fucking you slow and hard, his fingers pressing tight circles against your clit until your legs shake uncontrollably. “come on, baby,” he whispers, voice right in your ear now, “cum for me again—cum on my cock, let me feel it.” and the way he says it—so low, so desperate—breaks something open inside you. your pussy clamps down, walls fluttering in tight, wet pulses as your second orgasm takes hold, crashing over you harder than the first. “fuck—heeseung!” you cry, your voice breaking, your whole body convulsing under him as you cum, hips jerking wildly, back arching, mouth open and gasping.

heeseung groans loud—filthy—his hands grabbing your hips tight as your pussy squeezes around him, your slick spilling down his cock and dripping onto the sheets. “holy fuck,” he growls, hips stuttering, his pace falling apart as he ruts into you hard, deep, chasing his own release now. “you feel—so good—so fucking good,” he moans, each word punched out between heavy, desperate thrusts. your body is limp beneath him, ruined and twitching, but he holds you up, keeps you open, keeps driving into you like he can’t stop. “i’m gonna cum,” he gasps, “gonna cum inside you again, baby—fuck—i’m not pulling out.” your moan is soft, breathless, nothing but wrecked permission. heeseung groans, loud and broken, as he thrusts deep one last time and spills into you, hot and thick, his cum flooding your pussy in long, heavy pulses. he doesn’t stop moving, not right away—he keeps grinding into you, burying it deeper, fucking it up into your sore, overstimulated cunt like he wants it to stay. your walls twitch around him, fluttering from the aftershocks, your breath shallow as he collapses forward, his chest pressed to your back, sweat-slick and panting.

he stays inside you as long as your body lets him, his cock twitching with every breath, his cum warm and sticky between your thighs, leaking down onto the sheets. his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you close, holding you still as your body shivers beneath his, overstimulated and buzzing. he kisses your shoulder slowly, reverently, murmuring soft things you barely register—“you were perfect,” “i didn’t want to stop,” “you’re so fucking good.” his voice is hoarse, wrecked from moaning your name, from holding back, from fucking you like he meant it. your eyes flutter closed, your body loose and heavy, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. heeseung doesn’t move, doesn’t let you go—his arms stay locked around your waist, his cock still half-hard inside you, like he can’t stand the idea of being anywhere else. “stay like this for a minute,” he whispers, kissing the back of your neck. “just like this, baby… let me feel you a little longer.”

heeseung’s chest rises and falls against your back, each breath brushing over your shoulder as his arms slowly loosen around your waist, just enough to let you shift. you let out a soft sound—half-whimper, half-sigh—and he presses a kiss to your spine, so featherlight it almost doesn’t register. “hold on,” he whispers, low and hoarse, and he pulls out carefully, the slow drag of his cock making your body twitch as his cum begins to slip out of you. he steadies your hips with one hand, still gentle, still warm, and reaches for the small remote near the bedside table with the other. you hear the soft beep as he presses the button, the red light fading instantly, the lens no longer watching, no longer recording. he exhales deeply, like some part of him only now lets go, and he sets the remote aside before turning back to you. “it’s off,” he says softly, brushing your hair back from your face, his fingers trembling just slightly. “it’s just us now.”you hum faintly in response, eyes half-closed, body limp and heavy against the mattress, and heeseung smiles—small, crooked, fond—before leaning down to kiss your temple. “you did so fucking good,” he murmurs, his voice all warmth now, rough around the edges but soft with pride, with affection. he moves slowly, lifting himself from the bed and disappearing for just a moment, the faint sound of running water coming from down the hall. when he returns, his hands are full—warm washcloth, small towel, a bottle of water already uncapped. he kneels beside you again, coaxing you onto your back with a careful hand on your hip, and when your body winces from the soreness, he just nods. “i’ve got you,” he says gently, his eyes full of something deep and quiet. he cleans you up slowly, thoroughly, without rushing—starting at your thighs, then between your legs, wiping away the mess with care, never looking away from your face.

the rag is warm, soft, comforting against your skin, and his touch never loses its patience, even when you shiver or twitch from the overstimulation. “tell me if it’s too much,” he says, barely louder than a breath, his hand resting lightly on your knee as he presses the cloth between your legs once more. your voice is weak when you say “you’re okay,” but it’s enough—his shoulders relax, and he finishes the last gentle sweep before setting the rag aside and covering you with the clean towel. he presses another kiss to your thigh this time, lingering, almost reverent, before he climbs back into bed beside you, body warm, arms open. “come here,” he whispers, and you move slowly, shakily, letting him pull you into his chest. the moment you settle against him, everything melts—his hand in your hair, your cheek against his collarbone, the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear grounding you completely. “you’re everything,” he says again, and this time it isn’t just praise—it’s a truth.

he stays like that with you, holding you close, stroking your back, letting the silence settle like a blanket. the heat from your bodies still lingers, but it’s not heavy anymore—it’s soft, intimate, something woven into the quiet between your breaths. heeseung doesn’t try to fill the silence with anything unnecessary—he just exists with you, his touch constant, his presence wrapping around you like something you never realized you needed. his hand moves to your waist, tracing lazy circles against your skin, grounding you gently, reminding you that you’re safe, that it’s over, that you’re okay. “do you want anything?” he asks quietly, lips brushing your hairline, and when you shake your head, he nods, content to just be here with you. his fingers curl around yours beneath the towel, and you feel his thumb stroke the back of your knuckles once, twice, again. “we’ll stay like this as long as you want,” he says. “there’s no rush.”

you feel your chest swell at that—your lungs tightening with the weight of something you don’t want to name, something warm and stupid and dangerous. the words hit you somewhere low and vulnerable, curling beneath your ribs like they belong there, and for a second, you almost let it. you almost believe this could be more, that the way he touches you means something deeper, that this warmth he gives isn’t just for the camera. but then you remember the red light, the lens, the view count still sitting at zero. you remember why you’re here in the first place—money, rent, survival. and just like that, you shift again, sitting up slowly, the sheet slipping down your chest as you turn your back to him. “i should go,” you say quietly, forcing the words out like they don’t scrape your throat raw. heeseung moves beside you, confusion creasing his features as he reaches out gently, his hand brushing your back. “wait—what’s wrong?”

you stand before he can touch you again, grabbing your clothes from the floor and pulling them on with unsteady hands, refusing to look at him. “nothing’s wrong,” you say quickly, too quickly, because everything feels wrong now—the closeness, the softness, the way your body still buzzes with the ghost of his touch. “this was great. it was good.” you pause, slipping on your hoodie, heart pounding too loud in your chest. “but this is business, remember?” heeseung’s face shifts at that—something subtle breaking in the way he exhales, in the way his eyes fall to the sheets, then back to you. “i know,” he says quietly, sitting up, raking a hand through his hair. “i just didn’t think you’d want to leave so fast.” you ignore the way that stings and reach for your phone, already stepping toward the door. “can you call me a ride?”

he doesn’t argue, doesn’t beg, doesn’t guilt you—he just nods, slides out of bed, and grabs his own phone from the nightstand. the air feels heavier now, the silence between you no longer soft but sharp, cutting against your ribs with every breath you try to take. you watch him through your lashes as he types, jaw tense, his brows furrowed like he wants to say something he knows he shouldn’t. “ride’s five minutes away,” he says, voice flat, and you nod, hugging your arms around yourself even though you’re fully dressed. neither of you speak again—not until the buzz of your phone signals the driver’s arrival, and even then, you just give him a short, “thank you,” before heading for the door. he doesn’t stop you, but you feel his eyes on your back the entire time, like he’s memorizing the way you walk away. the door clicks shut behind you, final and quiet, and it takes everything in you not to look back.

────୨ৎ────

you don’t cry in the ride home—you’re too tired, too overwhelmed, too busy replaying the feeling of his hand on your jaw, the warmth of his voice in your ear. your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out without thinking, eyes widening at the notification that lights up your screen. 

@heefreakshow posted a new video: “moan for the camera, baby.” 

your stomach flips, breath catching as you tap it open, watching the views tick up in real time—hundreds, then thousands, climbing faster than you can process. the comments pour in, the gifts, the subscribers, and your inbox is already starting to fill with names you don’t recognize. 

your eyes stay fixed to the numbers, the sound of the car engine barely registering over the pounding of your heart, the dull throb between your legs still pulsing with the ghost of his cock. comments begin pouring in, flooding the screen in a blur of praise and fire emojis, messages of “who is she?” and “this is fucking art,” and “the way he touches her???” flashing by too fast for you to breathe. the heat in your chest blooms again, twisting tight, painful in a way you can’t name—because this was supposed to be just business. but it doesn’t feel like business when you’re watching yourself fall apart under him, when your moans play back through the speakers like something sacred, when he touches you like you matter. your hand tightens around your phone, jaw clenched, eyes wide as the numbers keep rising—ten thousand, twelve, fifteen—until you can’t look anymore. you close the video, thumb hovering over the home screen, heart still pounding.

and then it hits—a soft buzz. one new message.

@jayafterhours has sent you a message.

natty's notesᝰ.ᐟ it's not proofread so sorry >-< but i hoped y'all enjoyed it anyways !!

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[mintseung]

greedy for you (l.hs)

not even 5 minutes since he got back from performing, heeseung was already inches deep in you

PAIRINGS - idol bf!heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE - smut (mdni), established relationship

WARNINGS - p in v, unprotected sex, riding, switch heeseung and reader, whiny heeseung, creampie, dirty talk, needy reader

WC — 1.1k

A/N — HI GUYS it’s been a bit LOL. i have 2 other drafts but i just HAD to do a post one on coachella red hair heeseung 😣

© All rights reserved Iheesluv do not copy, repost, or translate.

The door hadn’t even clicked shut behind him.

Heeseung barely had time to exhale, dropping his bag to the floor, when you were already on him—grabbing his collar, lips crashing into his like you’d been starved. And maybe you had been. All night watching him on that stage, dripping with sweat, voice like sin, teasing the crowd with those half-lidded eyes and smirks meant for thousands—but you pretended they were just for you.

“Fuck—” he barely gets the word out before you push him back, walking him toward the edge of the bed.

“You took too long,” you mutter against his jaw, yanking his shirt up, nails scraping down his abs. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this. About you.”

Heeseung grins—surprised, amused, but so damn turned on. “Damn, baby… barely got through the door.”

“You don’t need the door,” you growl, shoving him down onto the mattress. “You just need me.”

You’re on top of him before he can respond, tugging his sweat-damp pants down just enough, grinding against him like it’s the only thing keeping you sane. His breath hitches, hands gripping your hips, but you swat them away.

“Hands to yourself,” you command, eyes dark and daring. “Let me have you.”

That flicker of surprise in his eyes quickly melts into hunger. He lets you take the lead—lets you ride the high you’ve been simmering in all night.

“What’s gotten into you—”

“You’re the problem. Acting all sexy like that on stage,” you cut him off as you tear off your clothing. Heeseung chuckles, but is quick to purse his lips when you’re naked, back on his lap.

And when you sink down on him, he groans so loud it echoes off the walls.

“Shit—Y/N—”

You don’t give him time to recover. Your pace is unrelenting, rough, desperate. Heeseung watches you above him, lip caught between his teeth, chest heaving.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he pants, finally grabbing your waist, helping you move faster, harder. “So greedy for me. You want it that bad, huh?”

You don’t answer with words—just a smirk, a roll of your hips that makes his eyes roll back. Because tonight, you’re not the one begging.

He is.

“Answer me. You want it that bad?”

Heeseung's voice is breathless, but cocky. Testing you. You glare down at him, hair a mess, sweat already forming at your temple.

“I need it,” you hiss, dragging your nails down his chest hard enough to leave faint red marks. “I’ve been soaked since the second your set started. Sitting there watching you touch yourself, bite your lip—like you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing.”

He groans—low and wrecked—and tries to lift his hips into yours, but you plant a hand on his chest and slam yourself down all the way, hard and deep. His mouth falls open, a raw moan spilling from it.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

You ride him without mercy, hips snapping with precision, your thighs burning but your lust burning hotter. You grind in tight circles at the end of each thrust, making sure he feels every clench, every pulse. His eyes flutter shut, fingers digging into the sheets because he knows if he touches you now, it’s over—he’ll lose all control.

“Look at you,” you taunt, dragging your hands up your own body, tugging your bra down so your chest bounces with every thrust. “Mr. Stage God, begging under me. You gonna cum already, baby? Gonna fill me up like you always said you would?”

“Shit, shit—don’t say that,” he grits, hips jerking. “You’re driving me insane.”

You lean down, hands on either side of his head, your pace unrelenting. Lips brushing his, you whisper,

“Then lose your mind.”

And he does.

The groan he lets out is primal, body tensing beneath you as he finally grabs your ass and thrusts up to meet you, chasing his high.

The warmth of his cum fills you to the brim. You ride him through it, pushing him past the edge until he's whimpering your name like a prayer.

As you were about to move your hips again to chase your orgasm, he grips on your waist tightly.

Heeseung takes a hand to cup the back of your neck and leans up, lips brushing your ear, voice rough and dark.

“You didn’t come, did you?”

You don’t answer.

Your silence is all the confirmation he needs.

“Oh, no, no,” he murmurs, flipping you over in one swift motion. Now you’re the one beneath him, legs spread, body still trembling, but he’s already lining himself up again, still rock hard, cock slick from being inside you. “That’s not gonna fucking cut it.”

“Hee—”

“You take what you want from me, and you think I’m just gonna leave you like this?” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. “Baby. I’m gonna ruin you.”

He thrusts back into you in one smooth stroke, deep and punishing. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out, overstimulated and desperate. His pace is different now—controlled, relentless, his abs flexing with each thrust. He's laser-focused on you, on every gasp, every moan, every twitch of your body beneath his.

His free hand slips between your bodies, thumb circling your clit in rough, tight strokes that make your thighs shake instantly.

“There she is,” he breathes, watching your face twist in pleasure. “You gonna come for me now? Gonna soak my cock like a good girl?”

“Yes— please, Hee, don’t stop—”

“Oh, I’m not stopping till I feel you drip around me.”

Heeseung leans down, lips dragging over your jaw, his thrusts growing faster, harder. The bed rocks with the force of it, headboard slamming the wall in a rhythm that could wake the whole damn hotel floor. You’re a mess under him now, body shaking, legs wrapped around his waist, his name falling from your lips over and over again.

And then it hits—your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave, legs spasming, mouth open in a silent scream as you clench around him so tight he nearly loses it all over again.

“Fuck—just like that,” he groans, hips stuttering, finally burying himself to the hilt as he spills into you one more time, the heat of him only making your high last longer.

For a long moment, all you can hear is heavy breathing, the faint creak of the bed, and your racing heartbeat.

Heeseung collapses beside you, one arm still holding your thigh possessively. “Next time,” he murmurs against your neck, “you wait for me.”

You laugh, dazed. “You love when I don’t.”

“…Yeah. I fucking do.”

[mintseung]

The kiss of life | sjy

⤷genre: smut, academic rivals to lovers.

⤷sypnosis: Your rival, Sim Jake, has always been a burden in your life, well atleast until you realise he's a little too obssesed with your little game of "who's the best?".

⤷warnings: smut smutty smut smut, ANGST AHA, degradation kink, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex (bro..), CREAMPIE, oral(m receiving), cowgirl (yeehaw!), doggy, reader is VERY stupid, jake is a jerk,drinking, meandom!jake x sub!reader.

“Fucking hell, how do you even score a full grade in Physics?”

Your voice was muffled against your arms as you slumped over the desk. The screen glared at you, mockingly bright in the dark of your dorm. Another test, another 92. Not bad. But not enough.

Not enough to beat him.

"Girl, you should rest. It's like 2am," sighed Giselle from behind her laptop, stretching her arms with a yawn.

She was your roommate, best friend, non-biological sister. In a way, she was everything to you.

You dragged yourself from the chair and walked straight into her arms, practically collapsing into her hoodie-covered shoulder. “I’m tired,” you muttered, voice rough from lack of sleep.

She chuckled softly and rubbed your back. "Let’s get you something to eat, okay? Pizza, right?"

You nodded against her, mumbling something about cheese and annihilating Sim Jake in one breath.

She pulled away and gave you a look. "You're obsessed. It’s not healthy."

“I’m not obsessed,” you lied, flopping back into your chair like a dying Victorian woman. “I just don’t like losing.”

“You don’t like losing to Jake,” she corrected, smirking. “He lives rent-free in your head. That boy could sneeze and you’d file it under sabotage.”

You opened your mouth to object, but your phone buzzed.

Sim Jake: Hope you’re studying. I’m not slowing down just because you need beauty sleep.

You let out a strangled groan and threw your phone onto the bed like it had insulted your ancestors.

Giselle didn’t even look up. “Was that him?”

“God, I hate him.”

“Sure you do.” She smiled at you.

Jake was everywhere.

Not in the literal sense—you didn’t see him until your 10 a.m. Physics seminar—but it felt like he haunted every inch of your morning.

The group chat. The hallway whispers. The lecture slides. It was like the universe had a favorite student and was making sure you knew it.

By the time you slid into your seat near the back of the lecture hall, coffee in hand and nerves already frayed, you knew he’d be sitting in his usual spot: front row, center. Perfect posture, perfect notes, perfect attention.

You hated how consistent he was.

You tried to tune out the professor's voice, but Jake made that impossible. He answered three questions in the first ten minutes. Not just correctly—but brilliantly. Like he'd eaten the textbook for breakfast.

And every time he spoke, you felt that familiar pang.

Not jealousy. Not really.

Just pressure. Like every word out of his mouth was a dare.

Catch me if you can.

“Sim Jake’s paper was one of the few that properly explained the entropy paradox,” the professor was saying now, scrolling through the week’s top scores on the projector. “In fact, only a few of you met the standard—”

There it was.

Your name, second place.

His, first.

Again.

Your stomach sank.

You didn’t even notice Jake glancing back at you until class ended and he appeared at your side like he’d been summoned.

He leaned down slightly, just enough for his voice to be heard over the shuffle of backpacks and murmured complaints.

“Tied in Calculus. Beat you in Physics. You gonna make a comeback in Bio?”

You refused to look at him. “I’d rather eat chalk.”

He snorted. “Tempting. But not the academic strategy I’d go with.”

You turned to glare at him, but he didn’t flinch. If anything, he smiled wider, eyes lit with that competitive glint you were coming to dread.

“You know,” he added casually, “you should study with me. Could help your chances.”

You stared. “Is that... an offer? Or a threat?”

Jake shrugged. “Depends how badly you want to win.”

You hated that you hesitated.

He noticed.

“Thought so,” he said, tapping the side of your notebook like it was some kind of challenge, and then he was gone—off into the crowd like a smug academic ghost.

You stood there, notebook in hand, and realized you were smiling.

God help you.

Back at the dorm, Giselle was sprawled on her bed with a face mask on and a playlist of playboy Carti playing at low volume.

You kicked off your shoes and dropped face-first into your comforter with a groan.

“Let me guess,” she said, not looking up, “Him again?”

“He told me to study with him.”

“Oof.” She peeled off one side of her face mask. “He’s either trying to seduce you or destroy you. Maybe both.”

“I don’t get it,” you said, muffled by the blanket. “Why does he care so much about this? Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t fall for his bullshit,” she replied, sitting up. “Everyone else treats he was gifted by Erwin Schrödinger. You? You beat him. That’s hot.”

You lifted your head to glare. “That is not hot.”

“Oh, honey.” She smiled, all-knowing. “Yes, it is.”

You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling.

You didn’t like Jake. You didn’t.

But something was happening. And it wasn’t just about grades anymore, maybe if it wasn't for that infuriating smirk he always had on his fucking face, you wouldn't doubt it.

Well atleast until a few days later.

You should’ve known.

You should’ve known the moment the professor said “pair work.”

Nothing good ever came from the phrase pair work—not when Sim Jaeyun existed in the same universe as you.

You sank a little lower in your seat as Professor Han pulled up the randomized groupings on the screen.

Project: Experimental Physics Simulation (40% of final grade) Assigned Partners:

Your eyes scanned the list faster than you should've—until they landed on the name next to yours.

Jang Yn & Sim Jake

“No,” you muttered. “No, no, no, no.”

“Hell yes,” Jake whispered from behind you, voice practically purring with smug satisfaction. A small gasp leaving your body, where the hell did he come from?

You turned slowly, a grimace twisting your face.

He grinned like a cat with cream. “Guess we’re spending some quality time together after all.”

“This is a hate crime,” you replied flatly.

Professor Han tapped her tablet for attention. “You’ll be expected to present your model in two weeks. The goal is to demonstrate practical application of theoretical concepts. Creativity is encouraged.”

She smiled sweetly. “You’ll learn more from someone who doesn’t think like you.”

Jake leaned forward, chin practically resting on his hand. “Hear that? I don’t think like you.”

“I know you don’t think like me,” you snapped. “I value silence, not stupid talks.”

He chuckled.

And it was infuriatingly…warm, why did he have to be so stupidly handsome? He had the personality of a gorilla on steroids, yet whenever he smiled ,flirted or just exsisted, you could feel your panties a little more damp than before.

The first “study session” was exactly what you expected: annoying, tense, and two hours of arguing about the definition of “efficient simulation.”

You’d agreed to meet at the library, in one of the glass-paneled study rooms. His natural habitat.

Jake sprawled out on one end of the table like he owned the place—hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, mechanical pencil spinning between his fingers. His notes were, of course, immaculate. Color-coded. Labeled. Graphs.

You hated how good they were.

"So what? Are you just gonna stare at me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Without a word, you just sat down took out your textbooks, leaving the latter a little confused on your weird...eagerness?

You worked back and forth, and without a doubt, he knew every.single.thing you didn't, everytime you were about to say something he'd look at you as if it was the most obvious thing anyone could ever say.

After two long hours, you had finally finished.

"It's done, I'll send it to you once I'm at the dorm." You announced not even looking at him, too busy gathering your things, the thing is you weren't busy, rather flustered by his piercing gaze on you, looking at you as if you were some kind of prey.

You almost didn't want to leave, what are you even thinking?

“Sure. Try not to stay up too late obsessing over me.” He finally answered nodding.

You paused at the door and looked back at him. “Try not to get too comfortable with me, I don't like you, this is a forced-proximity.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Goodnight, Yn” he said.

And just like that he was walking away.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling.

Not until you walked back into your dorm and Giselle looked up from her laptop, narrowed her eyes, and pointed a suspicious finger at you.

“Oh my god.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re smiling.”

“So?”

“So,” she said, peeling off her under-eye patches like she was unmasking the truth.”You only smile like that when you buy a new Ben&Jerry's ice cream flavour, or when you daydream of Sim Jaeyun."

You tried to suppress the grin creeping back onto your face. “We had a productive professional meeting. That’s it.”

Giselle crossed her arms and leaned against her desk like she was prepping for interrogation. “Uh-huh. And did this productive professional meeting involve any physical touch? Maybe you looking at him while he was busy? Perhaps you dropping something and you and him accidently bumping your heads while trying to pick it up at the same time?”

“Please, you watch to many dramas” you groaned, tossing your bag onto your bed. “It was just a project. Calm down.”

She gasped. “Just a project? Oh, you’re down bad.”

“I am not—” You stopped, because even saying it sounded like a lie.

Giselle strutted toward you. “Bitch? I’ve seen you spend entire nights rage-studying just to beat him by 0.1 points. Now suddenly you’re all buddy-buddy? What did he do, donate a kidney?”

You buried your face in a pillow. “We’re just working on the project. He’s tolerable in small doses.”

“Tolerable. Wow. That’s almost romantic, next thing you know you'll be in his bed,”

You lifted your head and gave her the flattest look you could manage. “Remind me why I let you live here again?”

“Because you're secretly inlove with me. Though I don't do Polyamourous relationships.”

She flopped dramatically onto your bed beside you and propped her chin on her hand. “So... when’s the next date?”

“It’s not a date.”

“But it is. Together. Voluntarily. With eye contact.”

You groaned.

She poked your side. “Did he lean over your shoulder?”

“No.”

“Did you imagine what he’d look like on top of you?”

“Giselle!”

She cackled. “That’s a yes.”

You shoved her off your bed with a pillow and covered your face again. “I hate you.”

“No, sweetie.” Her voice was singsong now, floating from the floor. “You hate Jake. Remember?”

It started, as most academic regrets did, with Giselle saying: “You have to come.”

You eyed her from your desk. “I really don’t.”

“It’s a stupid party. It’s practically networking.”

“You mean it’s drinking cheap beer and pretending it's the best thing i've had?”

“Exactly!” she beamed. “You need a break. Come. Wear something cute. Get tipsy. Maybe kiss someone,or even hook-up. Come on!”

You were mid-eye roll when she added, way too casually: “Oh. Jake’s going.”

You froze. “How do you know that?”

She smirked. “Because I asked him.”

“Why would you—”

“You’re welcome,” she sang, already disappearing into your closet, before coming back a dress in her hands.

"Ta-da! You'll definetly get dick tonight if you wear this." She wiggled her eyebrows, holding a black mini-dress that had a lacy sweetheart neckline.

"Do I have a choice?" You sighed, taking it from her. "Nuh uh, now get ready."

The party was louder than you expected. And warmer. And definitely more crowded.

Giselle abandoned you the second you got there, of course. Something about a guy she knew, which was the usual, so you just sat alone drinking some tequila you found sitting on one of the counters.

So you ended up drifting through the crowd alone for a while, plastic cup in hand, trying to look like you belonged there and weren’t constantly scanning the room for him.

And then—

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You turned—and there he was.

Jake. Casual clothes, dark shirt, hair a little messy, that stupid perfect face slightly flushed from the heat.

He smiled, just a little.

“I thought you didn’t do parties,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“I don’t. But Giselle said you��d be here.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Well,” you said coolly, “don’t expect me to be fun.”

Jake stepped closer. “Too late. I already am.”

It was stupid.

The way you ended up talking for an hour on someone’s front porch. The way the tequila burned a little less every time he leaned in. The way your fingers brushed when you passed the cup back and forth, and neither of you pulled away.

You were tipsy.

He was tipsy.

“I used to think you hated me,” he said suddenly, eyes fixed on yours.

“I did.”

Jake laughed. “And now?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were all stuck somewhere between your throat and your pride.

He stepped closer, gaze flicking down to your lips. “You still hate me?”

You didn’t say anything.

He took that as permission.

His lips suddenly crashed on yours, a small gasp leaving your mouth that felt hostage to his, your tongue was putting a weak fight against his, as his lips bit your lower one.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was all heat and teeth and pent-up energy—years of competition and tension finally snapping.

Your back hit the wall. His hands found your waist, his lips not leaving yours , it was hungry, you were hungry for eachother, as if you were touch deprived.Your hands tangled in his hair like you’d been waiting for this.

And maybe you had.

You didn’t stop.

Not when someone shouted about the cops. Not when the music cut out. Not when the porch light flickered like a dying star.

Not when he pulled you to a room, his hands never leaving your body, he pushed you against the room's door, locking it, just the way your lips were locked.

"You wanted this didn't you?" He smirked finally pulling away, looking at your body, up and down.

His pants were tighter, his breath was ragged, and you knew what you had to do.

You softly pushed him on the bed, as you got on your knees.

"Oh?" He let out almost mockingly, as he spread his legs.

You unzipped his pants, letting them fall down, before tugging his boxers down too.

Taking the hard lenght in your hand, you looked at it like it was a full course meal, like you were about to devour it.

You teased the leaking tip with your tongue, as he groaned grabbing your hair and pushing his aching cock in your hot mouth, making you gag.

"Fuck, yeah, take it all" He smirked, thrusting his hips forward, forcing you to take him all. Tears were streaming down your face from gagging as you sucked relentlessly, his thick veiny cock plunging in and out of your mouth.

"Such a slut, sucking me off after I kissed you once." His words were mean, degrading yet they only aroused you more, as your needy pussy ached in silence, drowned in her own juices.

You kept on sucking, as you felt him grow closer to his release, you massaged his balls, making him moan for the first time tonight.

"Keep doing that," He said, only final suck before he came in your mouth,"Open your mouth." He commended, to which you complied, your tongue full on his cum, that you had previously swallowed.

Without another word, he pushed you on the bed, roughly, before discarding the rest of his clothes, you took it as a sign to remove yours too, so you did.

"On all fours, now." He said his voice stern, you did as he said, this was embarassingly turning you on.

His ran a finger over your soaked folds, eliciting a strangled moan from you, "Already so wet and ready for me.." He whispered in your ear, his cock tugged against you hot core, "Please..I need you.."You finally muttered for the first time of the night.

"You need me?" He laughed, his laugh wasn't out of amusement, it was mean, he was mean.

Without previous warning, he slammed in you, thrusting deeply his entire cock in one swift movement.

You moaned, very loud, the pleasure mixed with the pain were overwhelmingly good.

"Fuck, you take me so well," He said, your silence earned you a sharp slap on the ass making you unwillingly moan. "Jake.."

"What a whore, moaning my name after I spanked you." he kept on talking while you did your best to take him from behind, your hands clutching on the pillows, your moans and your connected cores were the only sounds to be heard.

His dick hit your cervix every single time, making you see stars, the knot in your lower belly came loose as you whimpered.

"I'm ..I'm cumming.." You let out, to which he simply scoffed, "Hold it in, I'm not done yet."

It hurt, nearly impossible from the overwhelming wave of pleasure, his pace never slowing down, if anything he was speeding up. "Please.." and just with that, you came all over his cock, "Fuck.." He cursed under his breath, spanking you once again. "Who allowed to do that, slut?" Still deeply thrusting into you as he pulled your hair, your back meeting his chest.

A few more thrusts and his own body came loose, thick ropes of his cum deep inside of you, he slowly pulled out, watching his cum drip down to your legs, as he collapsed next to you.

“Okay,” Giselle said, popping a grape in her mouth. “What exactly happened between you two?”

You were curled up on your bed, hoodie pulled over your knees, reliving the moment on a never-ending loop.

“He kissed me.”

She paused mid-grape. “...And?”

“And I kissed him back.” you said keeping the details of the after-math to yourself.

“And now?”

“He’s pretending I don’t exist.”

Giselle stared. “Wow. Okay. I’m going to need to physically restrain myself from punching him.”

“Get in line.”

She shifted beside you, growing serious. “Do you think he regrets it?”

You wanted to say no.

You didn’t.

Instead, you whispered, “I think it meant something. At least… to me.”

Giselle exhaled. “Then he’s a coward, you deserve better baby."

The final presentation day came.

You both delivered it perfectly. Polished. Efficient. No mistakes. No interaction beyond necessary. Your professor called it "an impressively balanced demonstration of collaborative work."

You both nodded. Smiled politely.

And then walked off in opposite directions.

Two days later, the truth came out.

You didn’t mean to overhear it.

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop.

But as you turned the corner into the campus café, you heard his name. Loud, obnoxious, and coming from a table full of guys laughing like a pack of hyenas.

“Dude,” one of them snorted, “I still can’t believe you actually went through with the dare.”

Your stomach dropped.

You paused, just out of sight, something tight closing around your chest.

“Yeah,” another guy said. “Didn’t think you had it in you, genius.”

“Oh my god,” someone else cackled. “She looked so into it. She probably thinks you’re in love with her.”

“Easy shit,” came the final voice. Familiar. Mocking. Gut-twisting.

Jake.

“She’s smart, but she’s not hard to read.”

You didn’t hear anything after that.

Not over the roar in your ears.

You turned and walked away before they could see you. Fast. Like the hallway was collapsing behind you.

That night, you didn’t cry.

You didn’t rage or scream.

You just stared at your ceiling and felt... empty.

Because it wasn’t just the dare.

It was him.

The idea that everything you felt for him, well to him was just a stupid game, he wasn't lying when he called you a whore.

A fucking dare.

You thought maybe he hated you.

But you never thought he’d humiliate you.

And the worst part?

Somewhere deep down, past the fact you wanted to shove a fist in his annoyingly hot face, past the betrayal—

You still wanted to believe he didn’t mean it.

You were stupid.

You didn’t remember how you got back to your room.

You remembered walking. Just walking. One foot in front of the other like your bones were on autopilot. Like if you stopped, if you let yourself feel, you’d shatter.

The second the door shut behind you, your knees gave out.

You sank to the floor, back against the wood, breath caught in your throat. The silence in the room roared in your ears. Giselle wasn’t home. Thank God.

You stared at the wall, unblinking. Numb.

And then—

The tears came.

Slow at first, then faster, hotter, until you were shaking. Until sobs clawed their way out of your chest and you couldn’t stop them, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t understand how you let yourself fall for someone who turned your feelings into a joke.

You curled in on yourself, forehead pressed to your knees, sobbing so hard it hurt.

And all you could think was:

“She’s smart, but she’s not hard to read.”

Those words rang again and again in your skull like cruel bells, louder than your crying, louder than anything.

You felt stupid. So stupid.

How could you have believed him? Believed the softness in his eyes was real? Believed you meant anything?

You hated yourself for it.

And that’s what wrecked you the most.

Because it wasn’t just that he’d fucked you on a dare.

It was that you wanted it to be real.

It was that some pathetic part of you still did.

You stayed on the floor long after the tears dried. Red-eyed, mascara streaked on your cheeks.

A voice echoed in your head—your own voice from days ago, drunk,needy, hopeful and so desperately naive

You let out a bitter, broken laugh.

He didn’t surpass you.

He destroyed you.

And he probably didn’t even care.

You hadn’t spoken to Jake in days.

You didn’t look at him in class. Didn’t acknowledge him. Ignored him in the hallway when he passed too close. You kept your chin high, even if your stomach curled every time you sensed him near.

But today, he cornered you.

It was after class, where he used to sit beside you. Now you took a spot at the edge, eyes fixed on your notebook.

“Hey,” he said behind you. Too casually. “Can we talk?”

You stood without responding, changing seats.

He followed.

“Come on,” he muttered, catching up. “You’re seriously going to do this now?”

You looked at him. “Do what, Jake?”

He blinked like he hadn’t expected you to turn. “This silent treatment crap. It’s childish.”

You laughed. It was hollow. “I’m sorry, am I being childish? Because last I checked, you and your friends were laughing about a fucking dare , me.”

Something flickered in his face. “That’s not what happened.”

“I heard it, Jake. Every word.”

He glanced away, jaw tight. “You misheard.”

You stared. “Excuse me?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

He met your eyes again, and now they were flat. Sharp. “You’re overreacting. It was just a joke. A dumb one. Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious?” Your voice cracked. “You kissed me and then fucked me.”

“You kissed me, and you wanted me to fuck you.” he shot back, too fast.

You froze.

“That night?” he continued. “You came onto me just as much. You think I forced you into anything?”

“That’s not—”

“You’re acting like I manipulated you when we were both drunk and—what? Lonely? Bored? Don’t pin this all on me just because you regret it.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Jake crossed his arms, tone colder now. “Maybe you built it up in your head. That’s not my fault.”

Your heart thundered. “You let me believe it meant something.”

“It didn’t,” he said.

Silence.

Something inside you broke, maybe it was whatever was left of your self esteem or your heart.

You nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Jake’s jaw clenched. Regret flickered there—but he didn’t take it back.

You stepped around him. “Don’t talk to me again.”

And this time, when you walked away, you didn’t cry.

You were too numb for that anyways.

You didn’t make it past the front door before you collapsed.

Again.

You hadn’t cried in front of anyone since you were eleven years old. Not when you failed your first test. Not when you broke your wrist during track. Not even when your parents stopped asking about how your day was.

But the second you saw Giselle—curled up on the couch in sweats with her laptop balanced on her knees—it all came flooding back.

“Shit,” she whispered, immediately ditching the laptop and standing up. “What happened?”

You shook your head, shoulders trembling.

“I—I can’t—” you choked out, barely managing to shut the door behind you before your legs gave out and you sank to the floor.

Giselle dropped beside you without hesitation. “Hey. Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” She pulled you into her arms, warm and solid and familiar.

You cried into her hoodie. Ugly, gasping sobs that shook your whole body.

She didn’t say anything at first. She just held you.

When the sobs finally slowed, she whispered, “Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, wiping your face with your sleeve like it would hide the wreckage.

“I confronted Jake.”

Giselle’s expression turned instantly feral. “What did he do?”

“He said I overreacted. That it didn’t mean anything. That I wanted him.”

Her mouth dropped open. “He did not—”

“He gaslit me,” you said softly. “Tried to make me question what even happened. Like I imagined it. Like it was my idea, and I was just making a big deal out of nothing.”

“And the worst part?” You laughed wetly. “For a second, I believed him.”

Giselle’s hand flew to your shoulder. “No. Babe. No. Don’t you dare blame yourself.”

You looked away, voice barely a whisper. “I wanted it to mean something. I thought it meant something.”

“It did mean something,” she said firmly. “To you. And that’s valid. Jake being a manipulative little shit doesn’t make your feelings fake.”

You gave a weak shrug. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was suddenly sharper. “You are not stupid. You are the smartest, most intuitive person I know. You’ve been holding yourself together for weeks and I have no idea how. And I’m proud of you.”

You blinked at her, tears blurring again.

“And,” she added with a half-smile, “I kind of want to trip him down a staircase.”

You gave a small, watery laugh. “Only kind of?”

“Well, I don’t want to get kicked out before midterms.”

You sniffled, managing a broken smile. “I love you.”

“I know.” She squeezed your hand. “But say it again so I can record it and set it as my alarm.”

You exhaled, some of the pressure in your chest finally loosening.

For a moment, it was quiet again.

Then Giselle tilted her head. “You know what I think?”

You gave her a tired look. “That I should murder him and flee the country?”

She smirked. “Tempting. But no. I think… he’s scared.”

You frowned. “Of what?”

“Of you,” she said. “Of how much he likes you.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it.

“He doesn’t like me, Giselle.”

“He does,” she said simply. “But he doesn’t know how to deal with it. So he turns it into a competition. A dare. A way to win.”

You looked away. “if that's the case,that’s messed up.”

“Exactly,” she said. “Which is why he doesn’t deserve you. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

Silence stretched.

Giselle squeezed your hand again. “But if—if—he ever gets his shit together, and I mean therapy-level together… we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

You nodded slowly.

What if you just dated Giselle?

What about him?

He hadn’t stopped thinking about you.

It was fucking pathetic.

Jake was used to being good at things. Physics? Easy. Debate? Cake. Charm? Usually, yeah. He’d coasted through most of life by being clever enough, cocky enough, and just vulnerable enough to make people want to forgive him when he wasn’t.

But this?

This wasn’t forgivable.

He rubbed his face, staring blankly at the half-finished essays on his laptop. His dorm room was a mess—clothes scattered, ramen bowls on the floor,

He couldn’t focus.

You were everywhere.

Every seat you didn’t sit in.

Every class where you didn’t look at him.

Every hallway you passed through like he wasn’t there.

And God, you looked wrecked when you walked out of that confrontation.

Pale. Shaky. Like you were trying to hold it together just long enough to get away from him.

And he did.

His own words made him nauseous now.

He hadn’t meant it like that. Hadn’t meant any of it like that. But he panicked. He saw the look in your eyes and all he could think was she’s going to hate me forever. So he did what he always did.

He deflected. Defended. Because he always won.

Tried to win the argument like it was a debate.

But it wasn’t a debate.

It was you.

And now he was losing you in real time.

You didn’t even hate him, that was the worst part. She looked at him like he wasn’t real anymore. Like he never had been.

Because he didn’t know who he was, either.

You made him feel off-balance. Like all his perfectly crafted blueprints didn’t apply. Like he wanted to undo years of rivalry just to see her smile at him again.

And then he ruined it.

He kissed her like he meant it. And maybe, maybe he had meant it—but he let everyone else turn it into something else. A dare. A power play. A joke.

He, himself knew the joke, all along, was him, Sim Jaeyun.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

You probably thought he never cared.

But the truth was—

He cared too much.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Week three without Jake.

You hadn’t planned it like that. There was no calendar countdown, no “today I get over him” moment. But the silence had space in it now. Not emptiness—just… quiet.

You’d stopped crying.

Now, you were building.

You were the first one in the library most mornings. Not because you needed to prove anything anymore, but because you liked the light that hit the window tables at 7:04 a.m.

You started wearing lip gloss again. Real pants. That one leather jacket Giselle said made you look like the villain in a spy movie. And if people noticed?

Let them.

You weren’t doing it for them.

You weren’t even doing it for him.

You were doing it for you—for the girl who sat through Jake’s gaslighting and didn’t fold. For the girl who stood up and walked away without letting him see her fall apart.

Your group project had you partnered with people who actually respected you, and holy hell—it was like breathing fresh air for the first time. You were killing it in your lab work, crushing your deadlines, and taking up space unapologetically.

And Giselle?

Giselle was living for it.

“You look insane,” she said one morning, watching you apply eyeliner in the mirror.

You shrugged. “It’s just a Tuesday.”

“That’s the hot part,” she said, taking a picture for her instagram story. “Post-breakup glow is real.”

“It wasn’t a breakup,” you muttered.

“Then why’s the school acting like he’s dead to you?”

You smirked. “Because he is.”

She raised her coffee cup. “Cheers to emotional funerals.”

You and Sunghoon were lab partners for the day, thanks to your professor reshuffling pairs. He was easy to be around—laid-back, a little cocky, and refreshingly not obsessed with beating you at everything.

“You’re way good at this,” he said, watching you adjust the digital thermometer. “You sure I'm actually helping?”

You shrugged, smiling. "You're like an assistant."

He grinned. “I’ll be the best assistant in that case."

You smiled. Not because you wanted to make a certain someone jealous. Not at first.

But when you glanced up and saw him staring from across the lab—jaw clenched, shoulders tense, not even pretending to take notes?

Oh, it was on.

Sunghoon leaned in to check something on your laptop, his hand brushing against yours.

“Should we run another test? I kind of want to watch you do it again.”

You laughed—too loud, too soft, just enough for Jake to hear. “You just like bossy girls.”

Sunghoon smirked. “Guilty.” he said raising his arms in the air.

Jake dropped his pen.

It clattered across the desk, echoing louder than it should’ve in the quiet room. You didn’t turn to look. You didn’t need to. His anger was practically radioactive.

You hadn’t even made it to the elevator that led to your room before you heard footsteps behind you—fast, heavy, angry.

“Really?” Jake’s voice, sharp, cut through the quiet.

You stopped walking.

Turned slowly.

“Oh. Now you want to talk?”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you—eyes wild, hair messy, fists clenched like he was holding himself back from getting a warrant.

“You really think Sunghoon’s your type?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why? Jealous?” you smirked.

He stepped closer. “He’s not like me.”

“Exactly,” you said,

His jaw twitched. “You’re just doing this to piss me off.”

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “And if I am?”

He stared at you. “You think this is a game, but you’re not playing fair.”

“I’m not playing anymore, Jake,” you whispered, voice suddenly serious. “I stopped the second you made me feel like I was insane for having feelings.”

"You're not the center of the world." You sighed.

Something shifted in his face then—less anger, more desperation.

He took another step forward. You didn’t move.

“You don’t get to act like you didn’t feel it too,” he said, lower now. “You don’t get to flirt with my best friend and pretend it didn’t wreck me.”

“You wrecked me first,” you snapped. “You don’t get to say that now.”

Silence.

Heavy.

Thick.

Then—he reached out.

Slowly. Carefully.

His hand touched your cheek like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him. You didn’t move.

“You drive me insane,” he said hoarsely.

Your breath caught. “Good.”

And then he kissed you.

Hard. Messy. Desperate. Like he couldn’t stop himself.

You kissed him back like it was revenge. Like it was a memory you wanted to burn into his skin. Like it was the last time and the first time all at once.

His lips fit perfectly onto yours, as if he was made for you, as if you were made for eachother.

One moment and now you're in his room.

On his bed.

Moaning his name, bouncing on his cock.

"Holy shit, keep doing that.." He whimpers, holding your hips helping you move him in and out of your dripping hole.

"Jake.." His name feel like a continious prayer out of your lips, as his thick lenght made you see stars.

"See? You always come back.." He made it sound like an insult and a good thing at the same time. He thrusts turned sloppy and lazy.

"And you love it." You managed to let out.

Next morning, you woke up tangled in sheets that weren’t yours.

His hoodie was on the floor.

Your clothes were somewhere, probably near the door.

He was already awake—bare-chested, staring at the ceiling like the weight of everything had just hit him.

You didn’t speak.

Last night said enough.

And not nearly enough.

“So,” Jake said, sliding into the library booth across from you, “are we pretending last night didn’t happen, or are you going to keep blushing every time I say your name?”

You didn’t look up from your laptop.

“I’m working.”

He smirked. “So am I.”

You glanced at him. “Does annoying me count as a job now?”

“I mean, it’s a calling, really.”

You rolled your eyes. “Grow up.”

Jake leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his palm. “You didn’t say that when you were moaning my name.”

Your fingers froze on the keyboard.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze.

His smile was lazy. Infuriating.

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, heat creeping up your neck.

Jake tilted his head. “That’s not what you said last night either.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

Tried not to let him see your pulse jump.

“God, you’re such a child,” you snapped.

Jake grinned. “And yet you let me—”

“Jake.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second.

And then he leaned closer, his voice lower. “Say it again.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“My name,” he said, eyes on your lips. “Say it like you mean it.”

You blinked.

“I have work to do,” you said, turning back to your screen. “Unlike you, I don’t get off on distractions.”

Jake chuckled. “No, you just get off with them.”

You kicked him under the table.

Hard.

Things were… good.

Weirdly, annoyingly, undeniably good.

Jake still teased you—called you “professor’s favorite,” stole your pens, leaned in too close during project meetings—but now there was some love.

You’d catch him watching you when you weren’t even talking.

You’d laugh at something dumb, and his whole face would light up like it mattered.

One night, after hours of project work and bickering over formulas, he walked you back to your dorm in silence. Not tense. Just… quiet. And when you got to your door, he said:

“I missed this.”

You blinked. “This?”

“You.”He smiled at you, taking your hand in his, interwinning your fingers.

And for once, you didn’t say anything back. Just stepped closer and let your fingers brush his.

He kissed you again.

Not messy this time.

You were both smiling in the kiss, like the rest of the world had disappeared, like you only both mattered.

The party was loud. One of those end-of-week ragers you never planned to go to, but Giselle dragged you out of bed with eyeliner in hand and a red dress in the other.

“Let's have fun, hottie!”

You went. You smiled. You even let yourself believe Jake might show up, find you in the crowd, pull you aside like he always did now—quiet hallway, dumb smirk, soft eyes. Something that made this whatever-you-two-had feel like a relationship.

Well you did find him.

But what you found was him.

Kissing someone else.

Pressed up against the wall.

Hands on her waist.

Her laugh in his mouth.

His fingers pulling her closer.

And the worst part?

He saw you.

Right in the middle of it.

Eyes locking for half a second.

And he didn’t stop.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move.

Just kept going, like he hadn’t kissed you two nights ago and told you that he missed “this.”

Like you were a stranger.

Like it was still a game.

Your breath left your body like a punch to the ribs.

Giselle saw it happen in real time—your expression folding in on itself, your hand curling into a fist, the red cup slipping from your fingers.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she said instantly.

But you shook your head.

You weren’t going to cry.

Not here.

Not for him.

Not again.

The next day,

you didn’t knock.

You slammed his dorm room door open so hard it ricocheted off the wall. Jake looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt half-off, face flushed—but not from guilt.

From being caught.

He stood slowly. “So, you heard.”

“You knew I’d be there,” you spat, voice shaking with fury. “You saw me.”

Jake didn’t move. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, that’s so comforting,” you snapped, fists clenched at your sides. “I mean, why would it? I’m just the dare, right? Just another stupid game.”

He flinched. Barely. “That’s not fair.”

You laughed. “Fair? Jake, I defended you. I believed in you. I thought for once, you were being real with me. And you threw it away for some girl in a miniskirt and a bottle of Malibu.”

“I was drunk—”

“SO WAS I,” you screamed. “Drunk. And stupid. And in love with someone who’s never going to stop playing games.”

His face changed.

That dangerous softness again. The one that came right before he twisted the knife.

“You love me?”

You blinked. “I did.”

He stepped forward.

You stepped back.

“Don’t,” you warned.

But he didn’t listen. He never did.

“You don’t get to walk away from this like I don’t matter,” he said lowly, eyes burning into yours. “You don’t get to pretend we weren’t something.”

You shoved him. Hard. “We were nothing. You made sure of that.”

He caught your wrist.

Held it gently—like you were glass, not fire.

“But I still picked you.”

You stared at him.

“I kissed her,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “but I felt you.”

Tears welled again, you laughed in disbelief.

“You are sick.”

Jake cupped your cheek, thumb brushing away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

“You’ll always be my favorite,” he murmured. “Even when I fuck everything up.”

You wanted to slap him.

You wanted to forget he ever existed.

Instead, you pulled away and left.

"Fuck you, Sim Jaeyun." You left his dorm, the dorm that'll always keep some remnants you could never forget.

You removed off your jacket, wiped off your eyeliner, brushed your teeth like it was any other night. Because it was.

He didn’t get to ruin anything else.

Not your sleep. Not your heart.

He did win in exams, but apart from that, he could never win this.

You laid down in bed, wrapped in Giselle’s oversized hoodie, staring at the ceiling while your phone buzzed once—twice—three times.

Jake: Can we talk? Jake: Please, I’m sorry. Jake: I messed up.

You blocked the number. Sighing contently as sleep wrapped it's wings over you.

You showed up to class in a new outfit. And you looked fucking hot.

He was there.

He looked like hell.

But who cares?

You walked past him without a glance, like he was any other guy in a crowded lecture hall. Just background noise.

Giselle leaned over to whisper, “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” a small smile on your lips, which she immediatly reciprocated.

Sunghoon smiled, leaning in. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy,” you said, sliding into the chair.

Jake didn't not even once raise his hand today.

And when Jake did say a word,

You didn’t even acknowledge him.

Not out of spite.

But because you’d already erased him from the part of you that used to ache.

You never told him you were done.

You didn’t need to. Cause you were never even a thing to begin with.

And by the time he realized he couldn’t win you again?

You had already won yourself.

[mintseung]

best friend!jake x f!reader - REM

cw: explicit content a wet dream sex MDNI 18+ ENHA HARD HOURS flufffffy at the end

wc: 3.3K

-

Jake had always just been Jake. Your best friend. Your couch-sharing, video game-obsessed, cereal-stealing best friend. There was never anything weird about sleepovers with him. You’d done it a dozen times before—falling asleep in the same bed after a movie night, limbs tangled like siblings, breath evening out in the warm dark. 

That was just you and Jake. Comfortable. Safe. Normal.

Until this time.

You didn’t even realize you were dreaming until the heat wrapped around you like a second skin. In the dream, it was still Jake—but not the way you knew him. He wasn’t just teasing you over cereal anymore. He was behind you, mouth hot against your ear, voice lower, rougher. You could feel his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath telling you to keep quiet. 

You were soaked, aching, grinding back into him like your life depended on it. And then he said it—low and filthy: “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Your whole body jerked.

In the real world, Jake was half-asleep, rolled onto his side when he heard it. The softest moan. Barely there, but unmistakable. His name. Whispered in your voice. Breathless.

“Jake…”

He froze. Eyes wide now. Alert.

You said it again, a little higher, a gasp tangled in the syllables.

Jake blinked at the ceiling. His mind short-circuited. It had to be a mistake. You were asleep. People talked in their sleep. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe it wasn’t even—

“Jake,” you moaned again, thighs shifting beneath the blanket.

His brain stopped trying to logic its way out of it. That was his name. That was your voice. And that was very clearly a moan.

He turned his head slowly, heart hammering in his chest. There you were—curled toward him in the dark, blanket half-kicked down to your hips, your shirt rumpled, your lips parted. You looked soft. Warm. And when your hips gave the tiniest, unconscious roll into the mattress, he almost choked.

You were dreaming about him.

And worse—your body liked it.

Jake stayed frozen for a moment, torn between panic and something a lot darker. Something he hadn’t let himself think about. Not until now.

Then you whimpered, a breathy little sound soaked in want, and whispered his name one more time. It broke him.

He rolled onto his side, slowly, watching you. His voice came out low, cautious, but tight with something new. "Hey. Wake up."

You stirred, lashes fluttering. The dream clung to your skin like heat. When you opened your eyes and met his, confusion washed over your face.

“Jake?” you whispered, voice rough with sleep.

He swallowed hard. "You were dreaming."

You blinked, then realization hit you like a punch to the chest. Your face went hot. "Oh my god—"

Jake didn’t look away. “You said my name.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You moaned it.”

Silence stretched. You stared at him, mortified. He stared back, breathing harder than he should’ve been.

“You want to tell me what that dream was about?” he asked, voice lower now. Hungrier.

You sat up, panicked. “No. It was stupid. Forget it.”

He followed, staying close. Too close. “I don’t want to forget it.”

You tried to look anywhere but at him. He was warm, bare-chested, the blanket slipping low on his hips, eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. Everything about him was unfamiliar in this moment.

“You said my name like I was inside you,” he whispered. “Like I was fucking you.”

Your whole body burned.

Jake leaned in. “Tell me what I did in the dream.”

You closed your eyes. “You made me beg.”

“For what?”

“To be touched.”

Jake’s jaw clenched. His voice dropped. “Did I touch you?”

You nodded.

“How?”

You could barely breathe. “You said I’d be soaked just from hearing your voice. You were right.”

Jake exhaled a curse under his breath. His hand slipped under the blanket, not touching, just there. Warm. Present. Waiting.

“You still are?”

You nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “You want me to do it now? Make the dream real?”

You didn’t answer.

He leaned closer.

“Say yes.”

Your silence only made it worse. Or better. Jake couldn't tell anymore. 

All he knew was that you weren’t pulling away, weren’t saying stop, and your body was giving you away with every breath. The way your thighs pressed together, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted like you were still moaning for him in your sleep. It was driving him insane.

He slipped his hand under the covers again, but this time, he touched. Lightly at first. Just a brush of his knuckles along the top of your thigh. He was watching your face, eyes scanning every microexpression, every twitch of hesitation. But there wasn’t any. Only heat. Only want.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice tight.

You shook your head.

He dragged his fingers higher.

“Tell me what else I did in the dream,” he murmured, the backs of his knuckles grazing the edge of your sleep shorts.

“You kissed me,” you whispered. “Everywhere. You said you needed to know what I tasted like.”

Jake swore again, quietly, under his breath, like it physically hurt to hear you say it. He leaned in, lips brushing your jaw. His hand settled on your inner thigh now, warm and firm, keeping you open.

“Like this?” he asked, kissing just below your ear, his thumb stroking slow circles against your leg. “Was this how it started?”

You nodded, breath catching. “Y-yeah. And then you… you made me say it. Everything I wanted.”

Jake smiled against your neck. “You gonna say it again for me now?”

Your voice was barely a breath. “I want you to touch me.”

“Where, baby?” he whispered. “You’re gonna have to be specific.”

You swallowed. “Between my legs.”

Jake moved then—slow but sure, his hand sliding up, his palm cupping you through the fabric, pressing down just enough to make you gasp.

“That wet already?” he asked, voice hot and low against your skin. “Goddamn.”

You were burning now. Everywhere. Jake shifted closer, his mouth finally finding yours in a kiss that started soft but darkened fast. It was everything the dream hinted at and more—his tongue sliding against yours, his hand working you over your shorts until your legs were shaking.

And when he finally slipped beneath the fabric, fingers brushing bare skin, his voice dropped to a whisper that sent shivers up your spine.

“You gonna cum for me like you did in your dream?”

You nodded, breathless.

Jake grinned.

“Good girl.”

Jake didn’t let up. Not once. Not when your hips twitched into his hand. Not when your moans grew softer, more breathless, too real to be part of any dream now. And definitely not when you whispered, voice breaking, that you still wanted more.

His fingers were slow, careful, pressing into the damp fabric between your thighs with maddening precision. He was watching you unravel beneath him, tucked under the blankets in his bed like you hadn’t just crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. The room was quiet, heavy with breath and heat and the low rustle of sheets.

Jake’s voice dropped even lower as he shifted closer, his thigh brushing yours beneath the covers. “Take these off for me,” he murmured, fingers catching on the waistband of your shorts. “Let me touch you the way you dreamed about.”

You hesitated for only a second before lifting your hips, helping him slide them down. He peeled them off slow, deliberate, like he was unwrapping a secret. The air kissed your skin, cool against your heat, and Jake exhaled a rough sound when he saw just how wet you were.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, hand stroking up your inner thigh, his voice gone hoarse. “You’re soaked.”

You turned your face into the pillow, a flush burning from your chest to your ears. He leaned over you, mouth brushing your cheek.

“Don’t hide from me. Not now. You were dreaming about me wrecking you, right? Saying filthy shit, touching you everywhere, making you fall apart just from my fingers.”

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “Yes.”

Jake kissed your jaw, slow and hot. “Then open for me.”

Your thighs parted again, breath stuttering as he slid his hand between them and finally touched you. Skin to skin. No fabric. No barriers. Just Jake’s fingers sliding through your slick folds, circling slow, spreading the mess he found there.

Your hips jerked. Your hand flew to his wrist.

“Jake—”

His lips brushed your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to—”

“Say it.”

“I want your fingers,” you breathed. “Inside me.”

He groaned low, dragging one finger down until he was teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle circles, making your legs tremble.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Asking so pretty.”

Then he slid in. Slow. Deep. Curling just enough to make your breath catch. You were tight, soaked, gripping him like you’d dreamed about it for weeks. Maybe you had.

His other hand pressed against your stomach, holding you still as he worked you open, mouth at your neck, murmuring things he’d never dared to say out loud until now.

“You sound so fucking pretty like this. So sweet for me. So desperate. You’re not gonna forget this in the morning, are you?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t even speak.

But something wasn’t right.

You whimpered, hips shifting, trying to meet the rhythm of his fingers—but it wasn’t enough. It felt good, warm, intimate, but the pressure didn’t build. He wasn’t hitting where you needed. The ache was there, pulsing, hungry, but nothing he did with his fingers made it crest.

Jake noticed immediately.

“Talk to me,” he murmured, brushing a kiss over your jaw. “Not enough?”

“I—I don’t know,” you admitted, breath catching. “It feels good but—something’s missing.”

Instead of getting frustrated, he only smiled. Patient. Steady.

“Okay,” he said, kissing your neck again, softer this time. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you.”

He pulled his fingers back slowly, making you whimper at the loss, and kissed his way down your stomach, lifting the covers, settling between your thighs like it was the most natural thing in the world. You stared down at him, dazed, mouth open as his hands gently spread you open again.

“Let me try something else,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on you.

Warm. Wet. Careful.

He started slow—kissing, licking, exploring, letting you guide him with the way your body tensed and shuddered. His tongue stroked low, up, around—and then his fingers returned, sliding in again with a different angle, a new rhythm.

And that was it.

Your back arched off the bed, legs shaking as your voice ripped out of your throat like it had a mind of its own.

“Ngh—Ohhhh my god, Fuck!”

Jake moaned into you, gripping your hips harder, tongue pressing deeper, fingers curling with a newfound precision.

“There it is,” he murmured against your skin, smug and breathless. “That’s what you needed, huh?”

You couldn’t answer. Your body was already spiraling, nerves unraveling, vision white hot as he kept going—steady, focused, relentless—like he was going to make you say his name like that all over again.

Everything was too much now. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers, every muffled groan vibrating against you—it all hit at once. Like he’d found a switch and refused to let go. You couldn’t stop moving. Couldn’t stop whining. Your hips rolled up against his mouth, chasing the heat, the pressure, the way he made you feel like you were made for this.

“Jake—Jake, I—I can’t—”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down.

“You can,” he said, voice low and thick between licks. “You’re gonna cum for me, baby. I’m right here.”

You sobbed, hands fisting the sheets, legs shaking uncontrollably. Every nerve in your body lit up with electricity, your throat releasing soft, desperate cries you couldn’t contain.

And Jake took all of it. Ate you through every gasp, every tremor, every broken moan like it was everything he’d ever wanted.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty when you whine,” he groaned, licking slow and deep. “Gonna make you do it all night.”

Your hand found his hair, tugging, not to stop him, but to ground yourself. You could barely think, barely breathe. Every time his mouth moved, it was like the world narrowed to just that. Just him. Just the wet heat and the flick of his tongue and the way he looked up at you like you were the only thing he’d ever worship.

“Jake,” you whimpered, voice breaking, “suck—can you suck really, really, really hard?”

His breath hitched. He pulled back just enough to murmur, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you nodded quickly, eyes wide, body trembling. “I—I was gonna say—”

But whatever you were about to say disappeared into a shattered moan as Jake sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked. Hard. Precise. Deep. The pull of it sent shockwaves through your spine, and your words collapsed into a cry so loud, so raw, it felt like your soul left your body for a second.

Jake didn’t let up.

“Just like that?” he asked against you, voice thick, lips slick.

You could only nod, hands gripping his shoulders now as your hips bucked wildly, chasing the pressure, the drag, the sting of pleasure that tipped you past the edge. Your moans were constant now—high-pitched, pleading, delirious.

He groaned in return, sinking his fingers deeper, curling perfectly into the spot he knew you needed.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped. “You’re making a mess all over me. You’re perfect like this. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

And you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Your orgasm hit you like a wave—overwhelming, endless, bright. Your body seized, toes curling, legs shaking as Jake held you steady, mouth still working you through it like he couldn’t get enough.

And when it faded, when your muscles sagged and your chest heaved and the only thing left was the sound of your breathing and the feel of his breath on your skin—Jake kissed your inner thigh, soft and slow, like he’d just done something sacred.

Then he looked up at you, lips swollen, chin glistening, eyes dark with pride.

“Taste better than you dreamed?” he asked.

You were still breathless, eyes glazed, but the smile that curled on your lips was all he needed to see.

“Way better.”

Jake kissed your thigh one more time, slow and reverent, before dragging himself up the bed. His chest brushed against yours, and he hovered over you, lips glossy, breath still uneven as he stared into your flushed, fucked-out face.

He leaned in, hand cupping your jaw, and kissed you—deep, slow, messy. You moaned into it, tasting yourself on his tongue, your fingers curling in his hair as your body trembled beneath his. His weight, his mouth, the way he held you like he never wanted to let go—it was too much and not enough all at once.

"Can I—" he started to ask, voice raw, mouth barely pulling back from yours.

But you didn’t wait for him to finish.

Your hand slid down between you, fingers wrapping around him without hesitation. He groaned—loud, guttural—as your fist tightened around the base of his cock, guiding him down.

“Jesus,” he muttered, eyes rolling back as you angled your hips, lined him up with your entrance, and started pushing the tip inside.

“Baby,” he gasped, head dropping into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, you’re—”

You cut him off with another roll of your hips, pushing down until he was halfway in. Your back arched, legs wrapping around his waist as the stretch hit, deep and hot and perfect. His breath hitched again, hands gripping your thighs like he was trying to anchor himself.

“Wanted this,” you breathed into his ear, voice trembling. “Wanted you.”

Jake shuddered, nearly losing it right then. He kissed you again, harder now, one hand cupping the back of your neck as he whispered against your lips.

“You’ve got me.”

He started moving—slow at first, like he wanted to memorize every inch of you, every breath and moan and whimper. His strokes were deep, unhurried, every push and pull drawing out long, shaky breaths from your throat. Your hands roamed his back, nails dragging over the ridges of muscle as he filled you again and again, each time more deliberate than the last.

“God, you feel unreal,” he muttered into your skin, lips dragging across your collarbone. “So tight—so warm—every time I move, I feel you clench around me like you don’t wanna let me go.”

“I don’t,” you whispered, voice rough. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop, Jake, please—”

He buried his face in your neck and kept going, kept moving, hips rolling smoother now, harder, deeper. The room was filled with heat and skin and the obscene sounds of slick and gasping breath. Your body responded to every thrust, meeting him halfway, legs pulling him in like you couldn’t stand any space between you.

He shifted your hips slightly, angling deeper—and you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

“There,” you gasped. “Jake—right there—”

He groaned like he was in pain, like holding back was getting harder with every second. His hand gripped your thigh tighter, his rhythm slipping just slightly as you clenched around him.

“You close, baby?” he panted.

You nodded, desperate, trembling. “So close—keep going—please—”

His mouth dragged up your neck, hot breath on your cheek. He kissed you again, messier this time, barely holding it together.

And then you whispered, “Cum inside.”

Jake’s rhythm faltered. “No, baby,” he gasped. “Fuck, I can’t—”

“I’m on the pill,” you breathed, staring up at him. “I want it.”

He groaned but still hesitated.

So you leaned up, voice low and filthy, words curling straight around his resolve.

“You came inside me in my dream,” you said. “I thought you said you were gonna do it better.”

Jake swore under his breath and slammed into you harder, deeper, making you cry out.

“Say that again,” he demanded, voice tight.

“You said you were gonna do it better,” you repeated, moaning when his hips snapped again. “So do it. Fill me. Make it real.”

His mouth crushed against yours, and he lost his rhythm—hips stuttering, fingers digging into your skin, every part of him pushing closer, deeper, chasing that final edge with you clinging to him like you’d fall apart without him.

“You want it?” he panted. “You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please—Jake, please—”

And with a low, broken moan, he came—deep inside you, holding you down like he needed to mark you, claim you, fuck his name into your body forever.

-

Afterward, the room was silent except for your breathing. The kind of silence that felt heavier than sound. Jake stayed above you for a moment, panting, one hand braced beside your head, the other still resting on your hip. His skin was damp, flushed. Yours, the same.

He pulled out slowly, watching the way you winced and hissed at the sensitivity, and then he collapsed beside you with a deep exhale.

You both stared at the ceiling.

“…What the fuck,” you whispered, voice raspy.

Jake let out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah. That was…” He trailed off, head turning toward you. “Insane.”

You turned to face him too, eyes wide and unsure. “So… what now?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You swallowed. “We don’t have to make this a big thing, if you don’t want to. We can just… keep it casual or whatever.”

Jake’s expression didn’t change for a second. Then he rolled onto his side, reached out, and flicked your forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Don’t say dumb shit,” he muttered.

You stared at him.

“I’m in love with you,” Jake said plainly. “Have been. For a long fucking time.”

Your lips parted.

“And if you think I’m gonna let you call this ‘casual’ after I just came inside you because of a dream you had about me, you’re out of your mind.”

A smile spread across your lips before you could stop it.

Jake grinned back, softer now, and leaned in to kiss you—slow, sleepy, real.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I’m in love with you too.”

-

TL: @ziiao @seonhoon @beariegyu @somuchdard @ddolleri @zzhengyu @annybah @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3 @jakewonist @azzy02 @addictedtohobi @cherrybeomm @urmomdotcom5678 @jaeyunsbimbo @yongbokified @changbinniescurlyhair @en-whims @prettygurlnikittie

[mintseung]

Love, Lies, and Sim Jake

심재윤 x reader

You were the quiet girl with the not-so-quiet crush on Jake Sim—campus heartbreaker, smooth talker, and everything you should’ve stayed away from. But when a bet turns your name into a game, the rules change fast. He didn’t expect to fall for you… and you didn’t expect to find out. Now it’s your move—and this time, you’re not playing nice.

wc. 16.4k

a/n. This took me so long istg but lwk wanted then to be endgame @sheseung

masterlist | req open

It wasn’t supposed to be obvious. You were careful—or at least you thought you were.

Sure, maybe you stared a little too long when Jake walked into class late, hair still damp from a rushed shower, backpack half-zipped like he couldn’t be bothered. Maybe you laughed a little too loud when he made a joke, even if it wasn’t that funny. Maybe your friends caught you scrolling through his Instagram more times than you could count—but you had never said it out loud.

But somehow… everybody knew.

It started small. You remember the moment it all began to slip. One afternoon in the library, your best friend nudged your arm and whispered, “You’re staring again,” followed by the most annoying smirk you’d ever seen. You blinked, cheeks warming, then looked away quickly as Jake leaned back in his chair, stretching in that way he had to know showed off his arms.

“It’s not like that,” you’d mumbled. Lie. Straight lie. But it was your go-to line.

Then came the whispers. The way people started looking at you just a little differently whenever Jake was around. In the dining hall, one of his teammates nudged him and said something under his breath, both of them turning your way right after. You pretended not to notice. But you felt it—the heat in your face, the tightening in your stomach. You hated it.

It was like high school all over again. Like a crush you couldn’t shake, no matter how much you tried to play it cool.

And the worst part? Jake noticed.

He started looking at you a little longer in the hallways. Smirking when you’d pass by. Saying “hey” like he hadn’t ignored you for two semesters straight. You weren’t sure if he was just being polite—or playing with you. Still, every time your name left his lips, something fluttered in your chest and you hated that you let it.

Then, one night at a party, it all came out.

You were standing by the kitchen, holding a red solo cup you barely sipped from, when you heard it—your name. Jake’s voice.

“She’s cute,” he said casually, too casually, and the room seemed to go quieter around you. “And I’m pretty sure she’s into me.”

Laughter. Someone said, “Bro, everyone knows she is.”

Another voice chimed in, “You’re the first thing on her mind when she walks into class.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as your stomach flipped.

They were talking about you like you were an object, like your feelings didn’t matter.

You tried to shrink back into the corner of the room, hoping no one noticed your face burning hotter by the second. But Jake didn’t miss a beat.

He didn’t stop them. Didn’t correct them. Didn’t even seem surprised.

You were supposed to be doing your sociology reading. That was the whole plan. Laptop open, textbook to the side, highlighter in hand—every prop perfectly in place. But instead of notes, your screen was filled with him.

Jake Sim’s Instagram page.

His latest post? A blurry mirror selfie at the gym, captioned something dumb like “light work.” His abs were obnoxiously sharp, his hair pushed back by a sweatband, and there was a cocky little smirk tugging at the edge of his lips like he knew exactly what he was doing. You didn’t even like gym pics—and yet there you were, zooming in like a creep and biting your lip like an idiot.

You were halfway through stalking his tagged photos when Yuna burst into your room.

“Oh my god,” she said, before even setting her bag down. “Are you stalking him again?” You jumped, slamming your laptop shut like it was something illegal. “No.” She raised a brow. “You literally jumped like I caught you watching illegal shit.”

“I was doing research,” you muttered, trying to sound convincing.

“Research on what? His jawline?” Yuna flopped onto your bed, grinning. “Girl, you need help.”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands. “I know. It’s so bad. I can’t stop.”

“Yeah, no kidding. This is like… phase five of a full-blown Jake Sim spiral.” You peeked at her through your fingers. “Do you think he knows?” Yuna blinked at you. “Girl. Everyone knows.” You groaned again, louder this time, flopping back in your chair with a dramatic sigh. “I’m so pathetic.”

“Not pathetic,” Yuna said sweetly. “Just tragically whipped.” She laughed and tossed a pillow at you, and you couldn’t help but smile through the embarrassment. Because yeah—you were absolutely whipped.

And the worst part? You hadn’t even had a real conversation with him yet.

Yuna stayed sprawled on your bed, scrolling through her phone while you reopened your laptop—this time pretending you were actually going to study, even though your fingers hovered dangerously close to Jake’s profile again.

“I swear, he’s getting hotter by the day,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to her.

“Don’t do it,” Yuna warned without even looking up. “Don’t go back to his highlights. You already watched his Europe trip twice last night.”

“I just like the aesthetic,” you defended weakly.

“You like his face.”

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm, eyes drifting back to his latest Story. Just a casual boomerang of him walking into a party, surrounded by people, drink in hand, that same effortless confidence radiating off of him. He looked like he belonged there—like the world bent to him just slightly wherever he went.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t even bend your willpower long enough to not stalk him for one damn night.

“He’s at that rooftop bar again,” you murmured. “That one near campus.”

Yuna glanced at your screen. “With the LED lights and overpriced drinks? Ugh. Of course he is. He’s always out. Does he even do homework?”

“He’s passing econ somehow.”

“Probably because he flirts with the TA.”

You snorted. “I wouldn’t even be mad.”

Yuna tossed her phone aside and sat up. “Okay, real question. What are you actually gonna do about this?”

“Do?”

“Yes, do. You’ve been drooling over him for months. Either shoot your shot or block his page and join a monastery. This in-between spiral is destroying you.”

You hesitated. The idea of talking to Jake—really talking to him—made your heart race in a way that was more panic than excitement. He was just so… untouchable. Like a poster boy for bad decisions wrapped in designer cologne and half-smiles. And you were just—you.

“I don’t even think he knows my name,” you said quietly.

Yuna gave you a look. “Oh, he knows.”

You blinked. “What?”

She just smirked, grabbing her bag. “I’m gonna leave that there. You think about it.”

And with that, she disappeared out the door, leaving your heart racing in the quiet. Because if Jake did know your name… what did that mean?

You sat frozen for a solid thirty seconds after Yuna left, her last words echoing in your head like a fire alarm.

“He knows.”

She had to be messing with you, right? Yuna loved a good dramatic exit. She lived for chaos. There was no way Jake Sim—resident heartbreaker, campus lenend, the guy with a rotation of girls longer than your Spotify playlist—actually knew who you were.

…Right?

You glanced back at your laptop. His story was still up.

Tap.

Next slide—him laughing at something, dimples on full display, head tilted back like life was just that easy for him. You paused on it, your stomach twisting in that way it always did when you saw him smile. It was gross. You hated how much you liked it.

You shut the laptop again. This was getting out of hand.

Grabbing your phone, you opened your group chat with Yuna and your other two friends.

You:

i hate you why would u say that

Yuna:

what did i do NOW

You:

“he knows” ??? why would u say that and then LEAVE like some cryptic little drama gremlin

Kazuha:

HELP what’d she do

Minju:

this is about jake isn’t it

Yuna:

ok first of all. i am a drama gremlin. second of all. i didn’t lie.

You:

YUNA.

Yuna:

look he asked about you once okay?? don’t freak out

You stared at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, heart thudding so loud you almost didn’t hear the buzz of another message.

You:

he what.

Yuna:

like two weeks ago. after class. he was talking to beomgyu and i walked up and he was like “hey that girl you always hang with, she’s in my stats class right?”

and i said yeah. and he nodded.

that’s it.

Minju:

girl that’s not nothing

Kazuha:

he definitely knows. also why do i feel like he’s been looking at her lately???

You:

guys stop

i’m sweating wtf

this is too much

You dropped your phone on the bed and covered your face with your hands again, half-screaming into your palms. This couldn’t be real. Jake noticed you? He remembered you existed?

You thought about the times he held your gaze a second too long in class, the lazy way he said “hey” when passing you on campus, the smirk you always thought was meant for someone else.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up. That was dangerous. That was how people got hurt. But still…

Just maybe…

This crush wasn’t as one-sided as you thought.

Jake leaned back against the bench, legs stretched out and sunglasses pushed up into his hair as the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees. The quad buzzed with weekend energy—students lounging on the grass, music playing from someone’s speaker, that kind of lazy chaos that only ever happened when no one felt like doing real work.

Jay sat beside him, twirling a straw around in his iced coffee, eyes scanning the crowd like he was picking out a movie to watch.

“You know what I was thinking?” Jay said suddenly, eyes still tracking something in the distance.

Jake raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a terrifying sentence.”

Jay smirked. “We’ve never been in a real relationship. Like ever.”

Jake scoffed. “And your point?”

“My point is,” Jay said, sitting up, “we should see who can actually do it. Lock in. Longest relationship wins.”

Jake blinked, amused. “That’s the dumbest bet you’ve ever made—and you once bet Beomgyu fifty bucks you could throw a slice of pizza on the dorm ceiling and make it stick.”

“It did stick,” Jay pointed out.

“Yeah, and the RA made you clean it off.”

Sunghoon, who’d been quietly watching some random soccer game in the distance, sighed like he was already regretting his life choices. “This is so stupid. Why would you guys want to date someone just for the sake of it?”

“Because we suck at it,” Jay shrugged. “We’re trash at commitment. Might as well make it fun.”

Jake tilted his head, thinking for a second. “So what, we just pick someone and… date them?”

“Exactly,” Jay grinned. “No hookups, no games. Real dating. See who lasts longer.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “You guys are hopeless. Seriously.”

Jake was about to respond when Sunghoon suddenly nodded toward a group of girls laughing across the lawn.

“What about her?” he said, jerking his chin in that direction.

Jake followed his gaze—and immediately shook his head, a tight, amused smile tugging at his lips. “Nah. Heeseung would kill me.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press it. Sunghoon just shrugged like it wasn’t his problem.

Jake leaned back again, lips pressing into a thin line. His thoughts drifted, uninvited, to you.

He didn’t know why, but your name floated to the surface, soft and unspoken. He pictured your face for a split second—how you always seemed to be laughing with that same small circle of friends, always just there on the edge of his world.

He said nothing.

Instead, Jake pushed himself off the bench, brushing imaginary dust off his jeans.

“Where you going?” Jay asked, glancing up.

Jake just smirked and threw a lazy wave over his shoulder.

“Nowhere. Just remembered something.”

Jake shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked off, head down just enough to avoid the glare of the sun but not enough to miss the way people turned to greet him as he passed. He gave the usual half-smile, a couple nods, but didn’t stop.

He wasn’t sure where he was going. He just didn’t feel like sitting there talking about bets and fake relationships when his mind was suddenly, annoyingly, stuck on you.

Not in a romantic way—God, no. Jake Sim didn’t catch feelings like that. Especially not for girls he barely talked to. That wasn’t how he operated. That wasn’t how this worked.

You weren’t the hottest girl on campus or the loudest or the one constantly throwing yourself into his orbit. If anything, you stayed out of it. And yet… you’d started showing up in his peripheral vision more often than he liked to admit.

Every time you passed by him in class, you did that little thing—tucking your hair behind your ear, eyes flicking to him for half a second before you looked away like you’d been caught doing something wrong. You weren’t subtle. And Jake wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed.

It was kind of… cute.

He kicked a rock off the sidewalk, watching it bounce onto the grass.

He didn’t know why you popped into his head when Sunghoon pointed out that girl. Maybe it was because you felt like the opposite of a challenge—someone easy to talk to, someone safe. Not messy. Not loud. Not tied up in anyone else’s drama.

And maybe, he thought, that wouldn’t be such a bad way to win a bet.

He stopped walking.

But then again… this was stupid. It was Jay’s idea. It wasn’t that deep. And you? You were just a thought. A maybe. An option.

Nothing more.

Jake smirked to himself and kept walking, brushing the idea off like it was dust on his sleeve.

No feelings. No strings.

Just a game.

Jake didn’t think about it again—at least, that’s what he told himself.

The next day, he walked into stats like he always did: five minutes late, iced americano in one hand, phone in the other, no apology in sight. He dropped into his seat near the back, legs stretched out under the desk, and immediately tuned out the professor’s monotone voice.

But then he saw you.

You were in your usual spot, two rows ahead and just slightly to the right. Laughing at something Kazuha whispered to you, pen twirling between your fingers, that same focused-but-not-really expression on your face.

Jake leaned back, tapping his pen against his lip.

You looked soft. Not in the cheesy romcom way—just… not sharp like most people. You weren’t trying to be noticed. You weren’t dressed to impress. You just were. And Jake had a strange moment of clarity where he realized: that might be why he’d thought of you in the first place.

Predictable. Low drama. Quiet.

Someone he could control the narrative with.

Jay’s dumb idea floated back into his head again: “Real dating. See who lasts longer.”

Jake exhaled slowly, like it would push the hesitation out of his lungs.

This wasn’t about feelings. He didn’t like you. He didn’t want to text you goodnight or hold your hand at parties or any of that romcom garbage. But maybe you were safe enough to play the part. Someone who wouldn’t make things messy. Someone who already had a soft spot for him.

He glanced at you again, just as you looked down to write something in your notebook, your brows furrowed in concentration.

He could do it. Just a few weeks, some dates, a little effort. Easy.

Jake grinned to himself, resting his chin on his hand.

He didn’t realize he was already watching you too closely.

Didn’t realize he was starting to wonder how you’d react if he actually said hi.

He just thought,

Yeah. This’ll be easy.

Jake caught himself watching you again.

It wasn’t even on purpose—at least, that’s what he told himself. You weren’t doing anything special. Just taking notes, occasionally glancing at the board, the corners of your mouth twitching every time Kazuha leaned over and whispered something dumb. But for some reason, he couldn’t look away for long.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of it.

Jay:

pick someone yet or u backing out?

Jake smirked, thumbs tapping quickly.

Jake:

working on it

Jay:

clock’s ticking

Jake rolled his eyes, tossing the phone facedown on the desk.

The truth was, he already knew. He’d made up his mind the second he walked into class and saw you laughing like you didn’t have a single clue how close you were to becoming part of something you didn’t sign up for.

But he wasn’t going to tell Jay yet. He wasn’t even sure why.

Maybe because part of him felt like once he said it out loud, it would make it real. More real than it needed to be. And despite how casual he was pretending to be, this wasn’t like hooking up with some girl from a party. This wasn’t sneaking out of someone’s dorm room at 2 a.m. before things got too serious.

This was… a role. A performance. One he’d have to keep up if he wanted to win.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes drifting toward you again.

You didn’t even know he existed—at least, not really. Sure, you might’ve looked at him a few times, maybe had that little crush people liked to tease about, but you didn’t know him. Not the version he showed at parties, not the bored one in class, not the one who smiled when he needed something.

You were still clean.

Jake wondered how long that would last.

When class ended, he stood and slung his backpack over one shoulder, lingering by the exit just long enough to watch you gather your things. You laughed at something Kazuha said again, then turned to wave goodbye to Minju.

And for half a second, your eyes met his.

He gave you a slow, easy smile—one he’d used a thousand times before—and this time, you didn’t look away so quickly.

Jake walked out of the room, his smirk growing.

You couldn’t focus the rest of the day.

Jake Sim had smiled at you.

Not just a polite, passing one. Not the half-distracted, probably-at-someone-behind-you kind. No. It was at you—slow, smooth, like he knew something you didn’t. Like he meant it.

And stupidly, pathetically, you’d smiled back.

Your stomach was still fluttering from it hours later. Even as you sat at your usual café table with Yuna, Kazuha, and Minju, pretending to listen to their convo, all you could think about was that look. That damn smile. The way his eyes had lingered just long enough to make your brain short-circuit.

Yuna caught you zoning out and kicked your foot under the table. “Earth to lover girl.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You’ve been checked out since class,” Minju said, sipping her iced latte like she wasn’t stirring chaos.

“Let me guess,” Kazuha added, leaning forward with a smirk. “Jake smiled at you?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but Yuna cut in with a dramatic gasp. “He did?! Wait—you smiled back?!”

You groaned and buried your face in your hands. “I don’t know what it was, okay? He looked at me and—ugh, I probably imagined the whole thing.”

“You didn’t,” Minju said casually. “He looked at you. I saw it.”

You peeked through your fingers. “Was it like… a weird look? Or just, like, a normal thing?”

Kazuha raised an eyebrow. “Does Jake Sim ever look at someone normally?”

Yuna leaned her chin on her palm, suddenly serious. “Okay, but real talk. If he did look at you, like, look at you… be careful.”

Your heart sank a little. “What do you mean?”

“He’s Jake,” Minju said. “He doesn’t date. He flirts, he parties, he makes girls fall for him and then disappears.”

“I’m not falling for him,” you said too quickly.

Three sets of eyebrows went up at once.

“I’m not!” you insisted, but your voice cracked halfway through, completely ruining your case. They all exchanged knowing looks, and Kazuha patted your hand like you were already a lost cause.

You sat back in your seat, sipping your drink in silence, trying to calm the chaos in your chest. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe Jake smiled at a hundred girls a day.

But still, the way he’d looked at you…

It didn’t feel like nothing.

And somewhere not too far from that café, Jake Sim was leaning back against a wall outside the library, scrolling through his phone.

He hadn’t told Jay yet. He hadn’t told anyone.

But your name sat quietly in the back of his mind.

Like a string he’d just started tugging.

Like a move he hadn’t played yet.

And tomorrow? He planned to say hello.

The next day came quicker than you expected.

You tried not to overthink it. Tried not to pick out your outfit with him in mind. Tried not to rehearse fake scenarios in your head where Jake Sim actually acknowledged you again—maybe said hi, maybe made a joke, maybe even asked you a question. Nothing big. Just something. Anything.

But deep down, under the nervous energy and second-guessing, a small, traitorous part of you hoped.

You walked into stats early, which never happened, your notebook hugged to your chest like it might protect you from your own delusions. Kazuha and Minju were already there, chatting quietly, and you took your usual seat beside them, eyes scanning the door more times than you cared to admit.

You told yourself you weren’t checking for him. Just being aware. Just… existing in the same room.

And then he walked in.

Jake didn’t look at anyone at first. Just strolled in like always—relaxed, unbothered, his usual drink in hand. He scanned the room casually, his eyes drifting past people without really stopping.

Until they landed on you.

And this time, he didn’t look away.

A lazy, lopsided grin pulled at his lips as he met your gaze. Not rushed. Not accidental.

Intentional.

Your throat went dry.

And then—like it was the most normal thing in the world—Jake Sim nodded at you. A simple, subtle gesture.

But it felt like the whole room paused around it.

You blinked. Your lips parted, surprised, and then instinctively—you nodded back. Small. Shy. Like your heart hadn’t just punched through your ribcage.

Jake held your gaze for half a second longer, then turned and walked to his usual seat near the back like nothing had happened.

But something had happened.

Kazuha leaned in immediately. “Okay, no. That wasn’t normal. He totally looked at you.”

Minju blinked. “Did he just nod at you like you guys are friends or something?”

You couldn’t even answer. You were too busy trying to regulate your breathing, too focused on the way your hands suddenly didn’t know what to do.

Across the room, Jake sat down, stretched out, and didn’t say a word.

Jay nudged him. “You good?”

Jake didn’t look away from the front. “Yeah,” he said simply. “Just watching something.”

Jay raised a brow, confused, but let it go.

You felt it the second you walked out of class—like a magnet at your back.

You didn’t have to turn around to know he was behind you. His steps were slower than yours, but just close enough that you could hear the occasional scuff of his sneakers on the pavement. And even in the noise of campus—people laughing, bikes zipping by, someone blasting music from a speaker—you felt him.

Jake Sim. Still walking behind you. Still very much a mystery.

“Okay,” Kazuha whispered beside you, leaning in with the most obvious side-eye imaginable. “Do not freak out. But he’s right there.”

“I know,” you hissed, eyes forward.

“I mean right there, like five steps back.”

Minju, on your other side, kept her voice casual. “What do you think he wants?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “Probably just going the same way.”

“Oh, sure,” Kazuha drawled. “Because Jake Sim always just happens to walk behind girls he makes eye contact with for five seconds straight.”

Your face was hot. You hated how your brain had started keeping track of these things—every glance, every nod, every smile like it meant something.

You turned the corner with your friends, and for a second, it felt like maybe that was it. Maybe he was just walking the same direction.

“Hey.”

One word. Smooth. Easy.

Him.

You stopped. Your heart didn’t.

Jake slid into view beside you like he did this all the time, like you weren’t already halfway to spiraling.

He looked straight at you. “You’re in my stats class, right?”

You blinked. Your mouth opened slightly. “Uh… yeah.”

He smiled like he already knew the answer.

“I’ve seen you around,” he said casually, like this wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it. “What’s your name?”

You told him. Your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake nodded, like he was tucking it away. “Cool. I’m Jake.”

Like you didn’t already know.

“I know,” you said before you could stop yourself.

His grin widened slightly. Not cocky, not smug. Just… amused.

“Right,” he said, a little laugh in his voice. “Well, I’ll see you around.”

And with that, he was gone.

No flirting. No teasing. No over-the-top pickup line.

Just your name on his lips. Like he planned to use it again.

Your friends were staring at you with open mouths.

Kazuha grabbed your arm. “I am going to pass out.”

Minju fanned herself. “You talked. To Jake Sim.”

You stood there, blinking at the space where he used to be, your heart still racing.

You didn’t know what just happened.

But whatever it was, it wasn’t nothing.

Jake didn’t look back.

He didn’t need to. He knew you were still standing there, probably replaying the conversation in your head, maybe wondering if you’d said something weird or if he’d meant anything by it.

He hadn’t.

Not really.

(Kind of.)

He let his smirk fade the second he turned the corner, jaw tightening slightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He could feel Jay’s voice in his head already, mocking him—“So? Who’d you pick?”

He wasn’t going to tell him yet. Not until it was set in motion.

And it was now. Officially.

He’d spoken to you. Broke the fourth wall. You weren’t a background presence anymore—you were the option. The one he was going to test this theory out on.

Not because you were a challenge.

Not because you were hard to get.

But because you were… interested.

He’d seen the look on your face when he asked your name. That flicker of nervous excitement, like you’d been caught in the middle of something you didn’t want to end. He knew that look. He’d seen it before. Dozens of times.

But this time? He wasn’t here to break hearts. He was here to win.

That was the bet.

Longest relationship.

Play the part. Make it believable.

Easy.

Jake walked into the dining hall like nothing had happened, spotting Jay already sitting with a tray of fries and a bored expression.

“Yo,” Jay said. “You look like you just committed a crime.”

Jake slid into the seat across from him, swiping a fry. “Maybe I did.”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “You pick someone?”

Jake chewed slowly, then shrugged. “Thinking about it.”

“‘Thinking about it’ or already made up your mind?”

Jake leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “Let’s just say… I’ve got a good feeling.”

Jay laughed. “You’re gonna lose.”

Jake grinned back, calm and sure of himself. “We’ll see.”

Meanwhile, two buildings over, you were still stuck in place—your name echoing in your ears in his voice.

Jake Sim had talked to you. Asked your name. Smiled like he’d meant it.

And you?

You were already in trouble.

You just didn’t know it yet.

You floated through the rest of your day in a haze.

Jake Sim—campus heartbreaker, unintentional walking distraction, the guy you’d spent way too long overanalyzing from a distance—had not only spoken to you, but said your name. Like it belonged in his mouth. Like he planned to say it again.

You replayed it on loop.

“What’s your name?”

“I’ve seen you around.”

“Cool. I’m Jake.”

You. Were. Doomed.

Yuna nearly screamed when you told her.

“HE WHAT?” she shrieked in your dorm room, slamming her phone face down on your bed. “Okay, no. Wait. Start from the beginning. Word for word. Breath for breath. Blinking pattern. Everything.”

“I already told you everything!”

Yuna gave you a flat look. “You barely told me anything. You just stood there in a daze and whispered, ‘He talked to me’ like you were in some kind of Jake-induced coma.”

“I was in a Jake-induced coma,” you mumbled, falling back onto your pillow dramatically. “I think I still am.”

“Okay but why now?” she asked, sitting at the foot of your bed and stealing one of your chips. “Like, what changed? You guys have had stats together for weeks and he’s never even looked at you.”

You blinked at the ceiling. “Maybe he just… noticed me.”

Yuna gave you a look. “Guys like Jake don’t ‘just notice’ girls. It’s either because he’s bored, he’s interested, or he’s got some kind of motive.”

You sat up a little. “You think he has a motive? Like… what? What kind of motive?”

Yuna paused, chewing thoughtfully. “I don’t know. But Jake doesn’t make small talk unless he’s getting something out of it. Trust me. He’s hot, yeah, but there’s always something else going on in that beautiful, toxic little brain.”

You rolled your eyes, but a tiny part of you held onto her words. You didn’t want to believe that. You wanted to believe maybe he was just… curious. Maybe he thought you were cute. Maybe—by some miracle—he wasn’t playing a game.

But then again, Jake Sim was known for a lot of things.

Genuine interest wasn’t one of them.

Still, your heart refused to care.

He said your name.

He smiled.

He looked at you.

And for now, that was enough to keep you wide awake at 1:42 a.m., staring at your ceiling, whispering his name once just to hear how it sounded in the dark.

You told yourself it wasn’t for him.

You were just in the mood to look nice today—normal girl behavior. Nothing out of the ordinary. So what if you curled your hair instead of your usual half-tied bun? So what if you put on a little gloss and swapped your hoodie for a top that fit just a little better than usual? You weren’t going to see him anyway. Probably.

(But you left five minutes earlier than usual… just in case.)

You blamed Yuna for the way your nerves spiked as soon as you stepped onto campus. Her voice kept looping in your head like a warning bell.

“Guys like Jake don’t just notice girls out of nowhere.”

You’d rolled your eyes at the time, but it stuck. Still, when you caught your reflection in the hallway mirror outside class, a small smile tugged at your lips. You looked good. Confident. Not for Jake—but if he noticed? That wouldn’t be the worst thing.

He did.

You felt his gaze before you even stepped into the classroom. The weight of it. Heavy, warm, lazy like he wasn’t in a rush to look away. You didn’t dare meet his eyes—not right away—but your heart was already beating in your ears.

Kazuha whispered a teasing, “Oooh, someone came dressed to kill today,” as you sat down, and you tried to play it cool, brushing her off with a laugh. But you couldn’t ignore the glance Jake threw over his shoulder.

And the small nod. Again. Just like before. It was subtle. Barely there. But intentional. And that was enough to keep you smiling through half the lecture like an idiot.

Later that day, back at your dorm, you were practically humming as you kicked off your shoes. Yuna looked up from her laptop, narrowed her eyes, and said immediately, “Okay. Spill. What happened?”

You raised a brow, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You wore lip gloss,” she deadpanned. “You only do that for confidence or crushes. And knowing you? It’s both.” You flopped onto your bed with a dreamy sigh. “He looked at me again.” Yuna groaned. “Girl. You’re spiraling.”

“I’m fine,” you said, rolling onto your stomach.

“No, you’re in the delusional phase,” she said, sitting up. “Where you think he’s texting you with his eyes and secretly planning your wedding. I’m telling you, this is how he gets girls. He makes you feel seen.”

You stayed quiet, fiddling with the edge of your pillowcase.

“I’m not saying he’s evil,” Yuna went on. “I’m saying he’s not… safe. He’s not consistent. And I just don’t want you to be another story where he gets bored and leaves.”

You didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not when your heart was still soaring.

“I get it,” you mumbled. “But it’s not that serious. It’s just a crush.”

Yuna stared at you for a long moment. “That’s exactly how it starts.”

But you didn’t answer. You just kept smiling to yourself. Because Jake Sim looked at you again. And in your head, that meant everything.

Jake saw you before you saw him.

You were sitting on the low stone wall outside the library, legs crossed at the ankles, earbuds in, flipping through your notes with a furrow between your brows like you actually cared about the quiz tomorrow. The afternoon sun hit your face just right, lighting up the gold in your lashes, and for a moment—just a second—he forgot this was supposed to be a thing.

A game. A bet. A joke between him and Jay.

He shook it off.

“Go say something,” Jay muttered from beside him, nudging Jake with his elbow.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Relax.”

“Relax? Bro, you were just talking about how easy this was gonna be,” Jay said. “You smiled at her, got her name. Step three is conversation.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just watched you.

You looked like the type who wrote in a journal at night. The type who doodled on worksheets, who had a playlist for every mood and a favorite pen that no one else was allowed to touch. You weren’t like the girls at parties who clung to him for the thrill of it, who liked the idea of Jake Sim more than Jake himself.

That made it interesting.

Or maybe risky. He hadn’t decided yet.

“I’m giving you three seconds,” Jay said. “Then I’m picking someone else for you.”

Jake scoffed and stepped off the path.

He took his time crossing the grass, casual but with purpose. You didn’t notice him at first, too caught up in whatever study playlist was pulsing through your ears. He tapped the back of the bench once with two fingers, and you startled slightly, pulling one earbud out as your eyes lifted to meet his.

There it was again—recognition. Surprise. That soft little tilt to your lips like you were trying not to smile too much.

“Hey,” he said, leaning slightly against the edge of the wall. “You always study out here?”

You blinked. “Only when it’s nice out.” He nodded, eyes flicking to your open notebook. “What’s the subject?”

“Stats,” you said, grimacing. “Trying to pretend I understand anything from today.” He laughed a little—easy, smooth, practiced. “Yeah, same. I zoned out after the first ten minutes.”

You smiled, and this time it reached your eyes. “You sit in the back. You always zone out. He raised a brow, impressed. “So you’ve been watching me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, then faltered, clearly realizing what you’d just admitted.

Jake grinned. Gotcha.

“I mean—not watching watching,” you rushed to say. “Just, you’re… kind of hard to miss.”

He let the moment hang between you, his smirk lingering before he glanced down at your notes again. “You want help?” he asked suddenly. You blinked. “With stats?”

“Sure. I mean, I don’t guarantee results,” he said, pushing off the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets. “But we could suffer through it together.”

Your eyes searched his face for something—for a sign he was messing with you. But he didn’t look away.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Yeah. That’d be… cool.”

Jake nodded once, then stepped back. “Tomorrow. After class?”

You nodded.

He turned without another word, heading back toward Jay with that easy gait that made people move out of his way. Jay raised his brows at him like well?

Jake just said, “Locked in.” And didn’t explain further.

Didn’t mention how your voice had sounded a little shy when you said yes. Didn’t mention the part of him that liked that.

He told himself he wasn’t catching feelings. He was just playing the role. That’s all this was. Wasn’t it?

The next day, you didn’t know whether to dread or look forward to stats.

You’d barely slept. You kept rewriting yesterday in your head—Jake walking up to you, Jake talking to you, Jake offering to help you study like it was nothing. Like that wasn’t the most surreal part of your entire week.

You were half convinced it was a fluke. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe it was some joke. Or maybe—maybe—you dreamed it and none of it actually happened.

But then he slid into the seat next to you like it was his usual spot.

Like it had always been his.

You looked up at him in surprise, your voice caught in your throat. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey,” he said easily, tossing his phone on the desk and leaning back like he had all the time in the world. “You still down to study after this?”

You blinked. “Y-Yeah. Of course.”

He gave you a small, satisfied smile, then leaned in a little closer, voice low enough that only you could hear it. “What’s your Instagram?”

You froze.

You knew this moment was coming. Like, eventually. Hopefully. Maybe. But not this fast. Not like it was casual.

“Oh—um,” you fumbled with your phone, screen lighting up as your fingers clumsily opened the app. “It’s just—my username is kind of stupid, don’t laugh.”

Jake chuckled under his breath. “Now I have to see it.”

You turned your screen toward him, and he leaned in slightly, shoulder brushing yours for a second too long. His fingers grazed your phone as he typed it into his own, brows furrowed in concentration.

“There,” he said a moment later. “Followed.”

Your phone buzzed instantly, the notification lighting up like a siren:

simjyn started following you.

You tried to stay calm. Cool. Normal.

But Jake? Jake was already scrolling through your feed like he had nothing better to do. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re cute in this one.”

You almost choked.

He was pointing to a picture Minju had taken of you a couple weeks ago—your hand resting on your cheek, smiling softly at something off-camera. You’d only posted it after three days of deliberation.

“You—what?” you said, breathless.

Jake didn’t miss a beat. “I said you’re cute. You don’t agree?”

Your mouth opened, then closed again.

He laughed under his breath, clearly enjoying the way he’d short-circuited your brain. Then he leaned back in his chair like he hadn’t just sent your pulse into orbit.

“Stats,” he said casually, flipping open his notebook. “Then coffee. That’s our deal, right?”

You nodded slowly, your cheeks on fire.

He didn’t say anything else.

But your phone buzzed again under the desk.

simjyn: looking forward to it

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. So you did both. Internally.

You didn’t even have to type it in.

The second Jake said, “What’s your Instagram?” you already knew where this was going. You played it off so well—bit your lip like you were thinking, fumbled with your phone a little like you needed to search for his account too.

But you didn’t. You’d known it for months.

@simjyn.

No numbers. No punctuation. Just clean, simple, cool. Like him.

You’d visited it more times than you’d ever admit out loud.

You knew the exact photo he’d posted on New Year’s Eve—black button-up, rings on his fingers, drink in hand, smirk sharper than his jawline. You remembered how his captions were always short, effortless. Sometimes just a song lyric, sometimes a single word. Always just enough to keep people guessing.

You’d watched his stories religiously. Even the ones that weren’t interesting—clips of skateparks, random memes, grainy concert videos. You once spent an entire night reading through the comments on one of his old posts, heart dropping every time a girl left a flirty emoji and he liked it.

And now? That username lit up your phone for real.

@simjyn followed you.

@simjyn ❤️ your story.

@simjyn sent you a DM.

You nearly forgot how to breathe.

What made it worse—or maybe better—was how normal he made it all feel. Like he hadn’t just stepped out of the fantasy you’d kept locked behind your phone screen. Like this wasn’t your real life crashing into the version of Jake you only knew from filtered posts and captions.

You tried to keep your cool, acting like this wasn’t a big deal. Like you hadn’t already scrolled back to his 2019 posts at least once. Like you didn’t already have his account bookmarked under a folder labeled “Just Vibes” (because “Jake Sim” felt too on the nose).

Still, when the class ended and you stepped outside, your fingers twitched with the urge to check your notifications again. And there it was.

@simjyn: looking forward to it.

Like it was just the beginning.

And maybe, terrifyingly, it was.

The days that followed felt like they were moving in slow motion, each one dragging longer than the last as you waited for something to happen.

The moment you’d been hoping for—the one where Jake would finally make it real, where the playful back-and-forth would shift from flirtation to something else—wasn’t happening.

Instead, he kept it casual. Too casual.

Too normal.

He kept up the conversations. Stats class? He would lean over, whispering about the notes, joking about the professor’s monotone voice. He would always walk with you afterward, or grab coffee with you. Nothing over the top. Nothing overtly romantic.

But your heart still raced every time he smiled at you. Every time he leaned a little too close. Every time his fingers brushed against yours as he handed you your coffee or his shoulder bumped yours when you were walking together. You could tell he was making it seem easy. Comfortable. Like you were just friends.

But you were barely holding it together.

Your phone buzzed late one night while you were finishing up homework. You glanced at it, heart skipping when you saw his name pop up in your notifications.

@simjyn: Got a minute?

You stared at the message for a solid minute. Your thumb hovered over the screen, hesitation creeping in. Should you play it cool? Or be honest and show just how interested you were?

You took a breath, tapped the screen, and typed back:

You: Of course, what’s up?

It took a few seconds for him to respond, and when he did, you couldn’t help but feel the subtle excitement surge in your chest.

@simjyn: You free tomorrow after class? Thought we could grab lunch or something.

You stared at the message for a long second, rereading it just to be sure it wasn’t some joke. But no—he’d actually asked. He’d really asked.

And you, being entirely unable to contain the flutter in your stomach, replied without hesitation:

You: Sounds good. What time?

It didn’t take long for him to send the reply, casual as ever:

@simjyn: 1 p.m. sharp. See you then.

You couldn’t help but smile, even as you tried to play it off to yourself. You were going to lunch.

With Jake Sim.

Just lunch.

Still, as you set your phone down, the knot in your stomach didn’t loosen. It twisted, deepened, and tightened with something you couldn’t ignore.

This was different.

You weren’t just some girl caught up in the attention of a guy.

This time, it felt real.

The morning of the lunch, you barely made it through your classes. Every few minutes, your mind would wander back to the text. You tried to focus, to pay attention to the lecture, but all you could think about was what you were going to wear. You settled on something comfortable—nothing too dressed up, but something that still made you feel good. You didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard, but you also didn’t want to look like you didn’t care.

When the bell rang, you gathered your things and tried to move quickly, but not too quickly. There was no way you were going to be that eager.

You got to the café a little early, scanning the tables, heart racing as you waited. And then, just as you began to think he might be late, you saw him walk through the door. Jake Sim, effortlessly cool in a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slightly messy in that way that made you want to run your fingers through it.

He glanced around and spotted you almost immediately. The moment your eyes met, he gave you that signature, crooked grin. The one that made your stomach flip.

“Hey,” he greeted as he slid into the seat across from you. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

You shook your head, trying not to act too flustered. “No, not at all. I just got here.”

He gave a nonchalant nod, then leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the menu on the wall. “So, how’s the studying been going?”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Same as usual. Lots of work, not a lot of results.”

Jake chuckled, glancing over at you. “I can relate. Stats is definitely not my strong suit. I’ve had to rely on the internet a lot.”

You laughed, genuinely this time. “I can’t believe you’re just now admitting that you’re using Google.”

“Hey, it works,” he said, raising his hands in mock defense. “Why make life harder?”

The conversation flowed easily after that, lighthearted banter about classes, the terrible food at the campus café, and random bits of gossip you both knew. Nothing serious. But somehow, it felt… different. He was relaxed around you. More relaxed than he’d ever seemed before, and it made you wonder if this was just another casual thing to him, or if something else was starting to shift.

Then, after a while, Jake’s tone softened. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment as if weighing his words. “You’ve been acting a little different lately. More… put together, you know?”

You blinked, unsure of how to respond to that. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged slightly, his eyes still focused on you, but there was a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ve always been pretty chill, but you’re, like, shining now. What’s up with that?”

Your heart skipped, a small nervous laugh escaping your lips. “I’m just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting better at balancing everything.”

Jake leaned in just slightly, his gaze narrowing with interest. “I think it’s more than that. You’re definitely pulling it off.”

You stared at him for a second, not sure what to make of the compliment. He said it so casually, like it was just an observation. But it felt different, like he was actually noticing you—really noticing you.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed. “Well, thanks. That’s… sweet.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the air thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, to your surprise, Jake broke the tension with a grin. “You know, I’ve got a theory.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious despite yourself. “A theory?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, looking like he was about to say something way too casually. “I think you might just be trying to impress me.”

The words hit you like a bolt of electricity, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you were supposed to laugh, blush, or run away. “What? No—no,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I mean, maybe a little bit, but… I don’t think I need to impress you.”

Jake smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “Oh? I’m not that impressive, huh?”

You bit your lip, not sure how to play this. “No, you are. I just—” You cut yourself off, suddenly realizing how much you’d revealed in a single sentence. But Jake didn’t press. He just chuckled, clearly having fun with this.

“You’re cute when you get nervous,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

Your cheeks burned at the comment, but you quickly composed yourself. “Well, it’s not like I’ve got anything to impress you with. I’m just… me.”

Jake leaned forward slightly, eyes locking with yours in that way that made your heart race. “That’s all I need to see.”

His words hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise, and for a moment, you thought you might actually fall for the idea that this wasn’t just a game.

But then, just as quickly, he sat back, picked up his coffee, and took a casual sip like nothing had happened.

You blinked, trying to clear the confusion in your head. Was he playing with you? Or was this real?

Before you could ask, Jake grinned, his eyes flicking to your phone. “Hey, I’ll hit you up later. I’ve got to go catch up with Jay about something.”

“Okay,” you said, your voice a little quieter than you meant it to be. “I’ll see you later, then.” He stood up, tossing a few bills onto the table before flashing that same carefree smile. “Yeah. See you around.”

As he walked away, you watched him go, your heart hammering in your chest. You couldn’t figure out if he was just being Jake, or if something else was going on. But one thing was clear. He had your attention, and it felt like you were already in this deeper than you wanted to admit.

The next few days were a blur of moments that felt too good to be true. Every time you saw Jake, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was changing. He was suddenly everywhere, his presence more noticeable, more… intentional.

It started small—an unexpected text, just a random meme or a “How’s your day going?” message. It wasn’t the kind of thing friends usually exchanged, not unless they were really close. But he made it feel effortless. Like it was normal. Like you were supposed to be texting each other.

When you sat together in class, Jake would lean a little closer, whispering jokes in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. He’d brush your arm with his when reaching for a pen or hand you a piece of paper as if your hands weren’t already close enough to touch. And every time his gaze met yours, there was this flicker in his eyes—a hint of something that made you feel like you were both in on some secret that no one else knew.

“You’re wearing that sweater again,” he’d say, a grin pulling at his lips. “I like it.”

You’d laugh nervously, trying to act casual, but inside, your heart would race. Every time he called you out like that—whether it was for something you wore, the way your hair fell across your face, or the way you bit your lip when you were nervous—it felt like a compliment. A tease. And you couldn’t tell if you were supposed to be flattered or embarrassed.

But then, you’d notice the little things—like how his gaze lingered on you just a moment longer than usual, how his smile reached his eyes, and how he seemed to make every conversation feel like an inside joke. You could feel it. The playful flirty energy was unmistakable.

One afternoon, you were walking across campus together when Jake leaned in and said, “You know, you look really cute when you’re thinking.”

Your mind went blank. “What?”

He laughed softly, his voice low and teasing. “When you get all quiet, just staring at nothing. You’re cute, I can’t help it.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Stop it.”

But his grin only widened. He didn’t stop. Not this time. His arm brushed yours as you walked, the skin-to-skin contact sending an electric jolt through your entire body. He kept close, just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, just close enough that it started to mess with your head.

“Really,” he continued, “You should smile more. Makes everything better.”

You couldn’t think straight. He was being so Jake about it—teasing and flirty, but there was something in the way he said it, something deeper, like he was trying to get closer to you than just casual flirtation. You tried to brush it off, but there was no denying it—he was turning up the charm.

The worst part? You liked it. You liked it too much.

But as much as you were getting drawn into the flirty energy with Jake, your friends noticed. Especially Yuna.

“Hey, you’re pulling away,” Yuna said one day as you walked with her across campus. “You’ve been hanging out with Jake a lot lately. Like… more than usual.”

You tried to brush it off, but the protective tone in her voice was obvious. “What are you talking about? We’re just hanging out.”

She raised an eyebrow, giving you a skeptical look. “I don’t know, YN. I mean, I’ve seen the way he’s been acting with you lately. Don’t let him mess with your head. He’s—”

“Stop,” you snapped, more sharply than you meant to. “I’m not stupid. I know what I’m doing.”

Yuna stopped walking, eyes wide as she stared at you. “I’m just trying to look out for you,” she said quietly. “Jake’s not exactly the type to take things seriously. You don’t want to end up hurt.”

The words hit you like a punch in the gut. But instead of feeling gratitude for her concern, you felt something else—a weird, unexpected irritation.

“I said stop,” you repeated, this time quieter but no less firm. “I don’t need you to remind me every five seconds that Jake’s a bad idea. I’m fine.”

Yuna opened her mouth to argue, but you held up your hand, cutting her off. “Really, Yuna, just drop it. I can handle myself.”

You could see the hurt flash across her face, but you didn’t care in the moment. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear about how Jake was playing you, how he was just a game to him, how everyone saw it coming except you. Because you didn’t want to see it. Not now. Not when things were just starting to feel… good.

You walked away from her then, your mind in a whirl. But even as you pushed away your concern for her words, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Something was off, and it wasn’t just with Jake.

And as you thought about it more, as you thought about his flirty comments, the way he leaned in too close when you were talking, the way he looked at you like he knew something you didn’t, you wondered if maybe Yuna was right after all.

But then again… why would you care?

After all, he was giving you attention. He was talking to you. It felt good. And sometimes, that was all that mattered, right?

Later that week, you found yourself standing in front of Jake’s apartment door, the cold metal of the handle pressing against your palm. You didn’t know exactly how you’d gotten here, but somewhere along the way, you’d ended up accepting his invitation to hang out. It wasn’t even that late. You’d just had a weird day with your friends, and now, you were here.

Jake’s voice came through the door before he even opened it. “Hey, come on in!”

The door swung open, and he flashed you that familiar grin that you still weren’t used to, despite how many times you’d seen it. “You look like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” he said with a teasing raise of his eyebrows.

You didn’t even have it in you to give a smart remark back. Instead, you just walked in, kicking your shoes off as you stepped inside. The apartment was just as you remembered—lived in, a bit messy, but still comfortable. Jake had that careless confidence about him, the kind that made everything feel like it was in its rightful place, even when it wasn’t.

You plopped down on the couch, dropping your bag beside you, feeling suddenly exhausted. Your shoulders slumped, and Jake’s eyes followed the movement with a curious look before he sank onto the couch beside you, casually stretching his arms out along the backrest.

“What’s going on?” he asked, genuinely concerned, but his tone was light, trying to keep things casual, like everything was fine.

You took a deep breath, then sighed heavily, letting it all spill out in a way that surprised even you. “I don’t know what’s going on with me lately,” you said, your voice a little softer than you expected. “I mean, Yuna’s being… overprotective. She thinks you’re just playing with me. And I get it. She’s looking out for me. But it’s like, I can’t get her to understand that I’m fine. That I’m not… that stupid.”

You glanced at him for a moment, but he was just listening, his focus on you in a way that made your stomach flip. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell you you were overreacting. He just sat there, waiting for you to keep going.

“I feel like I’m stuck between two worlds. Like one side wants to just… enjoy it, you know? You’re fun, you’re everything I thought you were. But then, there’s this other side, where I can’t shake the feeling that maybe she’s right. Maybe you’re not looking for anything serious, and I’m just… falling for it. But I can’t stop myself,” you vented, your voice starting to tremble slightly.

Jake stayed quiet for a few seconds, his gaze shifting to the floor for a brief moment before looking back at you.

“You’re allowed to feel what you feel,” he said softly, the words coming out slower than usual. “Don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself. Yuna’s just trying to protect you, but you can handle it. If you’re not ready to hear what she has to say, then you don’t have to. That’s your decision.”

There was something in his tone that was different—something almost… comforting. It wasn’t the usual cocky Jake. This was the version of him that actually cared.

You let out a shaky laugh, unsure of whether it was from nerves or relief. “I don’t know if I can handle this… It’s all just so confusing. I don’t even know if I’m reading everything wrong, or if I’m just imagining things.”

His expression softened, and he leaned in just slightly, the casual distance between you both shrinking. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, you know? You don’t have to be perfect. Not with me.”

And before you even realized it, you were leaning toward him. You didn’t even think about it, didn’t even second-guess it. Your body just reacted, your forehead resting against his shoulder, your exhaustion seeping out of you all at once.

Jake didn’t pull away, didn’t even flinch. He just stayed still, his body tense for only a second before relaxing, letting you lean on him, letting you take the weight off for just a little while. His arm slowly reached up, resting gently on your back, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

For a moment, the world outside disappeared. There was only the sound of your breathing and the steady, comforting presence of Jake beside you. And in that space, you didn’t feel confused or vulnerable. You just felt… safe.

But Jake? Jake felt something he wasn’t prepared for.

His chest tightened as your weight shifted against him, your head resting on his shoulder. Something in the pit of his stomach stirred in a way he wasn’t used to. The easy, flirtatious banter, the teasing touches, the smiles—it had always felt like a game, a light distraction. But now, with you leaning on him like this, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had crossed some invisible line.

Jake wasn’t the type to let his guard down easily, especially not with someone like you—someone who was already too easy to get attached to. He’d always prided himself on being able to keep things light, keep things easy. But now, as you sat there with your breath steady against his chest, he felt something shift in his chest. It was too strong, too real, too unfamiliar.

He knew he shouldn’t be feeling it. He knew he shouldn’t be letting himself get this close, this comfortable. But there was something about the way you were so trusting, so open, that made him rethink everything. Maybe he didn’t have to keep things light forever. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let things get a little deeper.

But Jake didn’t say anything. He didn’t pull away, and he didn’t push forward. He just stayed there, letting the moment stretch out, wondering what it would mean if he allowed himself to feel whatever this was.

And for the first time in a long time, Jake Sim wasn’t quite sure what was happening to him.

The next day, you were walking with Minju and Kazuha when the conversation inevitably turned to the topic you were avoiding. Your friends had been whispering behind your back, but now, they were cornering you about it, and you knew exactly what was coming.

“YN,” Minju started, her voice soft but firm. “We know you’re close with Jake now, but Yuna’s just trying to look out for you. She cares about you.”

You tried to ignore the feeling of guilt that twisted inside you, but it was impossible to shake off. You had felt bad about snapping at Yuna, but right now, you just weren’t ready to deal with it. Not when everything with Jake was still so… new, so uncertain.

“I know, okay?” you said, your voice slightly more defensive than you intended. You slowed your pace, unwilling to keep walking any longer. You could feel their concerned gazes on you. “But I don’t need to hear it right now. I don’t want to think about it.”

Kazuha frowned, tilting her head as she studied your face. “We just don’t want you to get hurt, YN,” she said, her voice gentle but tinged with worry. “We know you like him, but… Jake doesn’t exactly have the best reputation when it comes to relationships.”

You clenched your jaw. Not this again.

“I don’t need anyone else telling me what I already know.” Your words were sharp, but it was hard to keep your cool. “I’m fine. I’m not an idiot. I know the risks.” You paused, your voice quieter now. “I just… I’m not ready to have that conversation with anyone, especially Yuna. So, can we just drop it?”

Minju gave you a sympathetic look, her eyes softening. “We’re just looking out for you, YN. It’s not about not trusting you. It’s about the fact that we’ve seen this kind of thing happen before.”

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I get it, but… I’m not asking for advice right now. I just want to figure things out on my own. I don’t want to hear how this is going to end before it’s even really started.”

Kazuha took a step closer, her tone easing as she tried to lighten the mood. “We’re not trying to ruin the fun, YN. We just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

“I know you care. But please… not now,” you said, holding up a hand to stop any further discussion. You didn’t want to fight, didn’t want to let your friends down, but you just couldn’t handle it at that moment. You needed time to figure out where you stood with Jake before you could process any of their warnings.

Minju and Kazuha exchanged a glance, and even though they both wanted to say more, they stayed quiet, sensing that you weren’t in the right headspace.

“Okay,” Minju said finally, her voice softening. “But we’re here for you when you’re ready to talk. Just don’t shut us out completely, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of frustration and relief. “I won’t. I promise.”

The conversation ended there, but the lingering tension between you and your friends stayed in the air. You couldn’t shake the feeling that they were worried about you, and that made your chest tighten. But as much as you knew they were just trying to protect you, a part of you didn’t want to listen. You just wanted to figure things out on your own.

And for now, that meant staying focused on Jake and whatever this thing was between you two. Even if it meant pushing everything else aside, at least for a little while.

Jake wasn’t one to let his guard down easily, but over the past few days, something about you had begun to chip away at it. The easy flirtation, the playful teasing—it was all still there, but there was something more now. Something deeper. He couldn’t help but notice how the little things seemed to matter more when you were around. The way you laughed at his jokes, even the ones that barely made sense. The way you smiled at him when no one else was watching. It felt too easy, too natural, like he’d always known how to make you smile. But lately, it didn’t feel like a game. It felt… real.

And that, in itself, was dangerous.

Jake found himself thinking about you even when he didn’t want to. His friends, Jay and Sunghoon, had made jokes about him getting “soft” or “whipped,” but it was hard to shake the feeling that they were right. He did feel something for you. Something he didn’t quite know how to name.

It wasn’t that you were different than the others—no, you were different in a way that made him uncomfortable. You made him want things he hadn’t thought about in a long time. Stability. Connection. More than just a fleeting encounter.

And it was killing him.

He didn’t know why he let himself get closer to you. Maybe it was the way you always seemed to understand him, like no matter how far he pushed, you’d still stick around. Or maybe it was the way you made him laugh even when he didn’t feel like smiling.

He found himself texting you more, asking if you wanted to hang out, even if he had no real reason to. He’d steal glances at you when you weren’t paying attention, noticing the way your eyes would light up when you spoke, the way you’d tilt your head when you were thinking. He even started texting you just to hear you laugh, just to see your name pop up on his screen. It was stupid. It was complicated. And, most of all, it made his stomach twist in ways that were both unsettling and addicting.

That night, things were different. You’d come over to his apartment again, this time without any of your usual defenses. You were quieter than usual, your eyes slightly more distant. He could tell something had been weighing on your mind, and despite all his usual nonchalance, he couldn’t help but want to comfort you.

You were sitting next to him on the couch, a slight distance between the two of you, but it felt like there was something pulling him toward you. He wasn’t sure what it was—maybe it was the way you looked tonight, or how vulnerable you seemed, or maybe it was just the growing ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away.

“So, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, no teasing, no playfulness. Just concern.

You met his gaze, your lips forming a small smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Nothing. Just… stuff with my friends. You know, the usual drama.”

Jake felt his heart sink at the emptiness in your voice, like something was off. But he didn’t press. Not yet. Instead, he leaned closer to you, watching as you pulled your knees up to your chest, clearly lost in your thoughts. Without thinking, his hand found its way to your shoulder, lightly resting there.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he said, his voice quieter, gentler than before.

You hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know if you want to hear it. It’s just… complicated.”

“Hey,” he said softly, his thumb rubbing along your shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m listening.”

You met his gaze then, and for a moment, something passed between you. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but Jake felt it like a jolt of electricity between you. The weight of the silence was thick now, and the space between you felt too small.

Without thinking, Jake moved closer, his hand shifting from your shoulder to the side of your face, cupping it gently. Your breath hitched, but you didn’t pull away. You just stared at him, eyes wide, like you were waiting for him to make the next move.

Jake’s pulse quickened, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been here before—flirtation, attraction, all of it. But this time, something was different. This time, it wasn’t just about the thrill or the chase. It was about you.

You leaned toward him, your lips brushing against his, tentative at first, like neither of you quite knew what was happening. But then, something clicked. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, and Jake’s entire world seemed to narrow down to that single moment.

It was everything. And it was nothing like he expected.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and slightly dazed, you stayed close, your foreheads resting together as if you both were grounding each other.

Jake’s mind was racing, but his body felt weightless, like he was floating. He didn’t know what had just happened. Didn’t know if it was just a moment or if it meant something more. But for the first time in a long while, Jake Sim didn’t want to walk away from something. He didn’t want to pull back.

And he didn’t know how to explain it, but it scared him. More than he cared to admit.

The night of the party, you were already feeling a little on edge. Jake had invited you, and for the first time, it felt different than all the other times. There was a part of you that had been hesitating, unsure of how things were really between the two of you. His texts had been more frequent, his touches lingered a little longer, but you couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

You were getting ready when your phone buzzed—Jake had just texted to remind you about the party. He seemed excited about it, but something felt off in the way you were receiving it, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff and had no idea what would happen if you jumped.

As you walked into the party later that night, the music thumping in the background, you tried to shake off your nerves. People were scattered around, some dancing, others talking in smaller groups. You spotted Jake almost immediately—his usual confident grin, that cocky air about him, but tonight there was something different. He waved when he saw you, and his eyes lit up as you approached.

But before you could make your way over to him, you overheard Jay and Sunghoon talking in the corner, standing just out of earshot from where you were. You froze, hearing your name mentioned, and despite yourself, you couldn’t resist the urge to listen.

“Yo, Jake is really into this girl, huh?” Jay’s voice was low, but you caught every word.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Sunghoon replied, a laugh in his voice. “I mean, he’s been all over her. This bet’s got him acting like a different person.”

You felt your heart drop, but you didn’t move, too stunned to turn away. You tried to act casual, but everything inside you tensed. You could feel the blood rushing to your face, your stomach sinking.

“Are you sure he’s not faking it?” Jay asked, his voice skeptical. “I mean, it’s Jake we’re talking about. He doesn’t do ‘serious’—he’s just playing it for the win. He’ll probably drop her after.”

Sunghoon didn’t sound so sure, though. “I don’t know, man. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. It’s not like the other girls he’s been with. He actually seems invested.”

You wanted to walk away then. You wanted to ignore it, pretend you didn’t hear, but their words were like a knife twisting in your gut. The truth was, you weren’t stupid. You knew something was off. You had seen Jake be playful, you had felt the connection, but hearing his friends talk about it like it was a game… it made everything you had been feeling seem so much more meaningless.

“But it’s still a bet, right?” Jay said, the doubt lingering in his voice. “That’s what I don’t get. Is he really getting attached, or is he just playing the part? I’ve never seen him act like this with a girl. Not once.”

There was a long pause before Sunghoon replied, his voice lower now, more serious. “I don’t know. It’s Jake. Who can say for sure? But… I think he might actually care. Just a little bit.”

You didn’t stay to hear more. You didn’t need to. The damage had been done.

You took a breath, steadying yourself. You hadn’t expected this, not like this. But the pieces were starting to fall into place. Jake had been different with you—maybe more than he’d been with anyone else. The thought that this could be a game, a bet, was suddenly so clear. You couldn’t just ignore it anymore.

Your heart was pounding, but you forced your feet to move, walking over to where Jake was standing. You pasted on a smile, trying to keep your voice steady, but it felt harder than ever before.

“Hey,” you greeted him, your voice betraying none of the turmoil inside. He smiled, his usual confident grin appearing on his face. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing on the edge of something, teetering between what you thought was real and what you had just overheard.

“Hey, you made it!” Jake’s voice was light, happy, as if nothing was wrong. But something in his eyes made you pause.

Maybe it was time to figure out just how deep this bet really ran. And whether you were just part of it—or something more.

You stood there with a smile stretched across your face, but your heart was pounding so hard you swore Jake could hear it. His grin was easy, his eyes soft when they landed on you, like he had no idea you’d just overheard everything. Like you hadn’t just heard your name tossed around like a prize in a bet.

So, you smiled back.

You smiled even though your hands were trembling at your sides. You leaned in closer when he talked, nodded when he joked, even laughed—though it was a little too sharp, a little too forced. Because you weren’t about to fall apart in front of him. Not when everything finally made sense.

If this was a game to him, then fine. You’d play.

You could act too. You could flirt back, make him think he had you wrapped around his finger. You could give him exactly what he wanted—attention, affection, maybe even more—just to turn it around on him later. Just to prove you weren’t some stupid girl who didn’t know what she was getting into.

“I missed you,” Jake said, brushing your hair off your shoulder as he leaned closer to be heard over the music.

Your breath hitched slightly, just for a second. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, eyes wide and soft—just how he liked them. “Yeah?” you replied, your voice light, teasing, even though it shook at the end. “You’re not just saying that because I finally came out tonight?”

He laughed, completely taken with you. “No. I mean it.”

You didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Maybe part of you still wanted to. That was the most pathetic part. But you just nodded, playing along like everything was normal. Like your heart wasn’t breaking and piecing itself back together all in the same breath.

Jake kept talking, leaning in like he couldn’t get enough of you, and all you could think about was the sound of Jay’s voice—He’s really into this bet. And then Sunghoon’s, Or maybe it’s real.

You hated how badly you wanted that second part to be true.

But you pushed the thoughts down, deeper than they’d ever gone, and played your part. You looked up at Jake like he was the only person in the room, like your voice hadn’t just betrayed you a few moments ago. Like you didn’t feel like the punchline of some cruel joke.

Because if he thought you were falling for him—then you were already winning.

You’d play along. Smile. Flirt. Fall—just enough to make him think he won.

But neither of you realized that somewhere along the way, Jake had already stopped pretending.

The party had started to blur around the edges—music thumping, people laughing, the usual chaos of a Friday night. But all Jake could focus on was you.

You were standing by the kitchen counter, half-listening to some conversation you clearly didn’t care about, your arms crossed and your head tilted like you were already somewhere else. Like maybe, you didn’t belong in this room full of noise and people pretending.

Jake found himself watching you a little too long. Again.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to snap out of it, but the weight in his chest wouldn’t go away. The bet. The damn bet. It had been fun at first—a dumb challenge between him and Jay to see who could last longer in a relationship. A joke. Something to pass the time. But now, with you standing there looking like everything he didn’t know he needed, it didn’t feel like a joke anymore.

He pushed off the wall and walked toward you, slipping past the crowd.

“Hey,” he said, brushing his knuckles gently against your arm. You turned, a bit surprised, blinking up at him.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice still a little unsteady. You were trying to keep the act up—Jake could tell—but he didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know that you had already heard the truth.

“You wanna get outta here?” he asked, eyes locked on yours.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

Jake smiled, but something in his chest twisted.

“Cool. Just—go ahead to my car, I’ll be right there,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the front door.

You gave him a small nod and slipped away without another word, your steps a little faster than usual.

Jake exhaled, then turned around and made his way through the crowd until he found Jay and Sunghoon standing by the back patio, drinks in hand, mid-laugh.

“Yo,” he called out, stepping up to them.

Jay glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Leaving already?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. With YN.”

Jay smirked. “You’re really committed to this whole long-game thing, huh?”

But Jake didn’t laugh. His jaw clenched as he looked between the two of them.

“I’m ending it,” he said plainly.

Jay blinked. “What?”

“The bet,” Jake said again, firmer this time. “I’m done.”

Sunghoon straightened, exchanging a quick glance with Jay. “Seriously?”

Jake shrugged, but his voice was tight. “Yeah. It’s not fun anymore. I’m not… playing.”

Jay frowned, the smirk fading. “You caught feelings.”

Jake didn’t say anything.

Jay let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Sunghoon just nodded slowly, like he’d been expecting this. “Good. About time.”

Jake didn’t wait for more. He turned and headed for the door, his heart beating fast for reasons he couldn’t explain—not even to himself. He just knew one thing:

He didn’t want to hurt you. Not anymore.

When Jake stepped out into the cool night air, his heart was beating fast—but not with excitement, not with adrenaline. It was something else. Something heavier. Something he wasn’t used to.

He spotted you leaning against his car, arms crossed, your gaze fixed on the night sky like you were looking for answers. You looked calm, but you weren’t. You were still hearing Jay’s voice in your head—He’s really into this bet—like it was playing on loop.

Jake walked up slowly, unlocking the car with a soft beep.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost cautious.

You didn’t look at him right away. “Took you long enough.”

He let out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Jay wouldn’t shut up.”

You gave him a tight smile and slipped into the passenger seat, still playing your part.

The drive was quiet. The city lights passed in a blur outside the windows, but inside the car, the silence stretched. You were trying to act normal, casual, maybe even a little detached. But Jake felt it. The difference.

And maybe that’s what made him speak.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not looking away from the road.

You shrugged. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

He didn’t believe you. But he didn’t push.

A few more minutes passed before your voice broke the silence again. “Why’d you invite me tonight?”

Jake glanced at you. “Because I wanted to be with you.”

You turned to him, searching his face for any flicker of dishonesty. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I just… like being around you.”

You held his gaze for a second longer than you should have, but your heart ached. Because you didn’t know what was real anymore.

When the car pulled up in front of your place, you unbuckled your seatbelt, hand hovering near the door handle. But you didn’t open it.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said quietly.

Jake didn’t say anything at first. Then, “YN, wait.”

You looked over, and before you could ask what, he leaned in.

His hand gently found your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. His touch was warm, careful. And then—he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t cocky or playful like you might’ve expected. It was slow. Almost unsure. Like he was feeling everything for the first time.

And for just that moment, the noise in your head stopped.

When he finally pulled away, he didn’t say anything. Neither did you.

You just stared at each other—confused, shaken, caught somewhere between a lie and a feeling that had started to feel too real.

You opened the door quietly, stepping out. Before you closed it, you leaned in just a little, voice softer than it had been all night.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

He watched you go, the echo of the kiss still warm on his lips.

And for the first time, Jake Sim wasn’t sure who was playing who anymore.

You lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding with a mix of emotions you couldn’t even begin to untangle.

Jake had kissed you.

And worse?

You had kissed him back.

You touched your lips absentmindedly, remembering the way he held you like you were fragile. Like you meant something. Like you were real.

But you weren’t falling for it. Not again.

No, you told yourself, turning over in bed and squeezing your eyes shut. You are not doing this.

He played you. He made you feel seen, chosen, like maybe—just maybe—you were special. All the soft smiles, the subtle touches, the “accidental” run-ins, the way he said your name like it was his favorite word. All of it had been leading to this. The kiss. The final act in his perfect little performance.

You gritted your teeth and swallowed the lump rising in your throat.

Never again.

You weren’t going to be that girl—the one who got strung along, who ignored every red flag, who made excuses just because he looked at her like the sun rose in her eyes. No. That girl was gone. You buried her the moment you heard Jay’s voice echo in your head: Jake is really into this bet.

This was all a game to him.

So now? You were going to play too.

You’d play the part of the clueless, lovesick girl. You’d give him exactly what he wanted—until you flipped the whole damn game back on him.

And when the time came, when he was fully convinced he had you wrapped around his finger, when he couldn’t tell the difference between real and fake anymore—you’d confront him. You’d look him dead in the eyes and tear the mask right off his face.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d watch his heart shatter the way yours almost did.

But the worst part—the most frustrating, infuriating, confusing part—was how damn convincing he was. The way his eyes softened when they met yours. The way he smiled like he meant it. The way he touched you like he cared.

He seemed so in love with you, it made your chest ache. Like maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all a lie.

And you hated that part more than anything.

Because for one small, dangerous second… you wanted it to be real.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt almost normal again. You’d been home alone for a few hours, scrolling through your phone, when the text from Jake popped up.

@simjyn: Hey, I was thinking of coming over. You free?”

You stared at the message for a moment, a knot of nerves tightening in your stomach. You had been trying to keep things light with him—after everything that had happened, after hearing about the bet, you couldn’t let your guard down. But part of you still wanted to see him. Maybe part of you was still pretending things could be okay.

“Sure,” you replied, biting your lip. “I’m alone, so come on over.”

Not long after, the sound of the doorbell echoed through your apartment, and there he was, standing outside with that familiar smile. He wasn’t dressed any differently from the usual, but there was something in his eyes today. Something that made your heart skip in a way you hated.

Jake stepped inside, pulling you into a quick hug before you could even react. His hands lingered at your waist, warm and firm as he squeezed you close.

“You look good,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Thanks,” you muttered, stepping back to break the hold, though you could already feel your heartbeat accelerating.

You led him into the living room, where he flopped down on the couch with a sigh of relief, like he’d been waiting for this moment all day.

“So, what’s up?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart was beating a little faster than you’d like to admit.

He grinned up at you. “Just wanted to see you,” he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

You nodded, though the words felt too heavy in your chest to speak. He wasn’t here just for a visit—he’d been clingier lately, texting you more than usual, wanting to be around you all the time.

It should have felt nice, but it felt suffocating. Every time he smiled at you, kissed your cheek, leaned in close like he couldn’t get enough—it made your stomach churn.

“You’ve been… kind of different lately,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but the words had more bite than you intended.

Jake furrowed his brow, his expression shifting to something more concerned. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, frustrated by how easily he could shift his tone. “You’re being… clingy. All the time.”

He tilted his head, eyes widening in confusion. “Clingy? I just like being around you. Is that a bad thing?”

You took a deep breath, leaning against the counter to steady yourself. You could feel the tension rising in your chest, the frustration bubbling over.

“Jake,” you began, voice trembling just slightly. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not some… some toy for you to mess with. I’m not a prize, and I’m definitely not some girl to play along with your little bet anymore. If you’re really into me—then fine, but if this is just some fucking joke, then get the hell out.”

His face faltered for a second, just a flash of confusion before his gaze softened, his hands reaching for you. “I—what? No, YN, I’m not playing any game—”

You took a step back, hands trembling at your sides, the anger, the hurt, and the disappointment threatening to spill out.

“I know about the bet, Jake,” you snapped, cutting him off. “I know exactly why you started all this. And I’m done pretending I don’t. I’m not going to be the one who falls for this, okay? Not when you don’t even know what you want.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, the words hanging heavy in the air between you. Jake didn’t move, his eyes wide, and for the first time, you saw something flicker in them—something that looked like regret.

But it was too late.

You turned your back on him, pacing toward the window, your heart pounding in your ears. “Just go,” you said, voice cold. “I don’t want you here. Not like this.”

“YN, wait—” he started, his voice softer, like he was trying to make you understand. “I’m not lying. I’m not playing games anymore. I—”

“Just go, Jake,” you snapped, spinning around to face him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the uncertainty that had never been there before. But you couldn’t bring yourself to soften. Not when he had already crossed the line.

With one last look, Jake slowly stood up, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Then, without a word, he walked toward the door, the weight of the moment sinking in with every step.

And just like that, he was gone.

You sank down onto the couch, your mind racing. You told yourself you wouldn’t trust him again, you reminded yourself. You wouldn’t fall for it.

But deep down, there was a part of you that still wished this wasn’t the end.

Still hoped, somehow, that Jake would come back. But you didn’t trust that part.

The next day at school was chaos.

You barely made it ten steps into the building before you heard your name—sharp, urgent.

“YN!”

You stopped, heart clenching as you turned to see Jake storming down the hall toward you. His eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of desperation and something dangerously close to hurt. You froze in place as he reached you, his voice already rising.

“You knew.” His words sliced through the tension in the air. “You knew this whole time and you were punishing me, weren’t you?”

Your breath caught.

Students slowed around you. Some stopped walking altogether. You could feel the shift—phones slipping out of pockets, eyes glinting with curiosity. You tried to step around him, but Jake moved with you.

“You acted like nothing was wrong,” he went on, voice getting louder. “You smiled, you kissed me, you looked at me like—like I meant something to you.”

You snapped. “Yeah? Well, welcome to my world.”

His expression twisted like you’d hit him.

“You were playing me from the start,” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady, but it wavered with the weight of everything. “I heard Jay. I heard everything. And I kept going, Jake. I kept smiling, kept letting you in, because I wanted to see how far you’d go.”

He blinked like he couldn’t process it, like he hadn’t thought you’d actually know.

“You—” He shook his head. “You kissed me back.”

“You made me believe it was real.”

“I didn’t fake any of it!” he fired back, stepping closer. “You think this is just about a bet now? You think I haven’t lost sleep over this—over you?”

The hallway was dead silent except for your voices. Students were openly filming now, whispering like wildfire spreading through the air.

“Jake Sim and YN?”

“She’s actually yelling at him.”

“I heard it was a bet. Is that true?”

You glanced at them, your fists clenching at your sides, your chest rising and falling fast.

“Jake Sim chasing someone like her?” someone murmured nearby. It stung. It always did.

You turned back to Jake. “You had your fun, right? You got what you wanted. Just leave it alone.”

But Jake didn’t move. His jaw was clenched, his eyes locked on you like he couldn’t look away even if he tried.

“I didn’t fall for you because of a bet,” he said quietly, voice raw. “But I might’ve lost you because of it.”

That did something to your chest. You hated it.

You hated him for saying the one thing you weren’t ready to hear.

Without another word, you turned and walked away—past the stares, past the whispers, past Jake.

And for once, you didn’t look back.

The next day, you didn’t expect to run into Jay—especially not when you were still raw, still reeling, still angry. But there he was, leaning against the lockers near your homeroom, like he’d been waiting.

The second he saw you, he pushed off the wall and walked straight up, his expression unreadable.

“Why did you chew him out like that?” he asked, no greeting, no hesitation. His voice wasn’t angry, just confused—tired, maybe. “In front of everyone?”

You froze, blinking up at him. “You’re seriously asking me that?”

Jay crossed his arms. “Yeah. Because the guy’s been a mess since yesterday. You acted like he’d—what, humiliated you? Like he was still playing you or something.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter. “The audacity to ask that when this whole thing started as some game between you and him.”

Jay’s eyes narrowed, confusion flashing across his face. “Game?”

“Don’t play dumb, Jay,” you snapped. “I heard you and Sunghoon at the party. You literally said he was invested in the bet. What else was I supposed to think? That everything he said and did was real?”

Jay went quiet for a second, then shook his head, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Wait—wait,” he said slowly. “You thought the bet was still on?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

Jay exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck like the weight of it all had just hit him. “YN… Jake called it off. He called it off way before he asked you out. He told us it didn’t feel right anymore. That you weren’t just some challenge or a joke—he wanted something real.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“No, he didn’t,” you muttered, barely audible.

“He did,” Jay said. “I swear on everything. He told us it stopped being about the bet a long time ago. That he wanted to be with you for real, no games. And honestly… we could all tell. He wasn’t faking anything.”

You looked away, suddenly cold all over. Your brain scrambled to make sense of it, replaying every interaction, every touch, every word. Had it all been real? Had he actually cared?

The guilt hit like a truck.

You chewed him out in front of everyone. You looked him in the eye and threw his feelings back at him because you thought he was still playing. Because you were scared.

Jay’s voice was quieter now. “He was falling for you, YN. He still is. But after yesterday… I don’t know if he’ll try again.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You just stood there, heart cracked open, with nothing to say and everything to feel.

You didn’t go to class that morning.

Instead, you found yourself sitting alone behind the school gym, knees pulled to your chest, trying to breathe through the ache in your chest. Everything felt like it was collapsing in slow motion. You were the one who was supposed to have control now. You were the one playing him—so why did it feel like you were the one who lost?

He ended the bet.

He wanted something real.

And you… you’d shoved it all back in his face, right in front of everyone. You humiliated him for something he had already walked away from—because of you.

The worst part? He hadn’t even defended himself.

He just stood there, took it, because maybe he thought he deserved it. Or maybe… because he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

You remembered the look in his eyes—the way they didn’t hold that smug glint anymore, the way they softened when he looked at you like you were something fragile, something he was afraid to break.

And you had shattered it first.

You rested your forehead on your knees, eyes burning. You’d promised yourself you wouldn’t fall for him. Promised you’d get even. And maybe you had.

But it didn’t feel like winning.

It felt like you’d pushed away the one person who had tried—really tried—to love you, in the only way he knew how.

Maybe he messed up. Maybe you both did.

But somewhere between the lies, the games, and the dares, something real had bloomed. And now?

Now it was buried under everything unsaid.

But feelings don’t just disappear. Not like that.

So maybe… maybe this wasn’t the end.

Maybe it was the part right before you decided what kind of story this was really going to be.

here to be added to permanent tag list - req open

[mintseung]

no face ! Sim Jaeyun X Reader

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ it turns out that your favorite camboy is your best friend! and it seems like the only person who doesn't know this is you. so what happens when you walk in on Jake streaming after he invited you over to "hang out"?

word count; 5.3k

camboy! dom! sim jaeyun x sub! reader , exhibition kink, riding, ass slapping, slight breeding, fingering, praise, begging, friends to lovers, possessiveness, unprotected sex (don't do that.) overstimulation, blindfold, mask kink (YES JAKE WEARS A MASK BRO HAHAHA) blah blah blah , this is literally crack because I genuinely cant fathom how bad i want to ride jakes dick STOP.

spelling & grammar mistakes to be expected,, i lazily wrote this blah blah

"oh fuck" you're quick to bite your lip and whimper at the raspy voice that quietly echos through your phone speaker as you thrust your fingers into your fluttering pussy, your other hand holding your phone up in your line of sight, making sure to watch the man on the screen as he pumps his cock one more time before the pretties pearly beads of cum shoot from his tip and onto his flexing abs and abdomen that heave up and down- signaling that he was out of breath.

As the pale man on the screen of your phone finishes, you finish right after with a particularly loud whimper, your thighs shaking around your dainty fingers. After a moment, you pull them out of your sopping cunt before relaxing your tired body onto the mattress below.

coming down from cloud nine, you heard a deep voice come through your speakers once more, quickly grabbing your attention as you sit up and look at your phone.

"mmm, thats all for tonight" you frown at his words before your fingers are moving fast against the keyboard.

it takes a moment, but you hear a laugh come from the man, his body shaking ever so slightly

"there she is" he says under his breath, making you blush deeply.

"no aftercare? i didn't sign up for this. go again!" he reads your comment, followed by another shoulder-shaking laugh and you cant help but feel pride swell in your chest.

"i know baby, but I have early morning plans with someone tomorrow" any ounce of happiness was quickly swept away from you at the words, jealousy pooling in the pit of your stomach.

you feel bad for the feeling of what appears to be.. possessiveness over J. You've been his top watcher and donator for his streams for around a year, and you've established a small bond with one another over private messages... but only slightly.

Because of this, you're the only one J acknowledges with a nickname, whether it be 'baby', 'love' or your (and secretly his) favorite, "doll".

every stream he does, he always finds himself looking for that familiar username of yours, smiling to himself once he sees you pop up into the viewers.

"yes, I'm hanging out with a girl... but its not like that" you refocus yourself, ears perking up at his words. J takes a moment to read more comments before speaking once more, his tone quiet and almost sad

"I mean kind of? i'm almost 100% she doesn't feel the same though" he speaks, referring to a comment asking if he likes this mystery woman.

"but it doesn't matter, I have you guys" you smile to yourself slightly, typing on your keyboard before chewing the skin of your bottom lip anxiously

J chuckles before responding to your comment

"yes baby, I especially have you, hmm?" you squeal into your palm and kick your feet slightly, butterflies gently flapping around in your stomach.

"but I have to go now, seriously. good night guys" you get a glimpse of his lips for a split second while he begins to lift the familiar mask he normally wears above his head before he cuts the live, and the room is suddenly quiet and cold once more.

you huff before getting up and prancing into the bathroom to wash your hands and changing into pajamas, getting yourself ready for bed as you yourself had plans tomorrow morning as well.

just as you're about to fall asleep, your phone chimes.

'i'll be by at 10:30 tomorrow, bring your charger this time moron' the message reads.

"go fuck yourself jake" you giggle before sending the message, watching as those sneaky three wiggling dots appear in the text chain. your phone dings again, and the message on the other end makes you gasp and almost throw your phone across the room.

"trust me, I already have. goodnight ;)"

you roll your eyes as your head hits the pillow, your heart sinking slightly at the realization that you were slowly finding yourself interested in two separate men.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Jake stop, I told you to be normal" you giggle from across the table, hiding your reddening face behind the screen of your phone. Jake huffs before rolling his eyes.

all ounce of seriousness leaves your body as he runs his free hand down his face, his palm covering his mouth as his eyes shift into something darker- something sinister and unfamiliar as he stares directly into yours.

your thumb presses the camera button, snapping a picture of the man directly in front of you , the boba in his other hand long forgotten in your mind - you had almost forgot that he had asked you to take a picture of him holding his boba.

"got it?" jakes voice snaps you out of the trance you had completely fell under unconsciously, making you rapidly blink before answering him

"yeah, here send the ones you like to yourself" the semi-fake smile gracing your lips, attempting to calm your ovaries before handing your phone over to him to take a look.

Jake gives a nod of approval before exiting the photos app and heading towards your messages in order to send them to himself, but before he could even switch apps , he notices a familiar app that you had forgotten to close the night before.

jakes eyes widen ever so slightly , making you just about leap over the table to snag your phone back - but jake was faster , using his longer arms to his advantage to dangle your phone over your head .

"wait i'm almost done" he smiles at you, making a groan fall from your lips.

"okay fine. but don't snoop. you might find something you dont wanna see" you fold your arms over your chest before glaring across the table at your best friend in suspicion.

Jake then secretly switches onto the safari and onto the website and much to his delightful surprise - his favorite little username flashes on the screen like a huge led sign absolutely blinding his face.

He snoops just a bit more, seeing the profile picture of your account he's come to memorize like the back of his own hand.

The subtle smirk on jakes face only grows as he pieces everything together

how you're his favorite little viewer who thirsts over him relentlessly in his comment sections on every stream and post he makes on his twitter account

how you've claimed many times how badly you wish you could sit on his lap

how you'd only need two minutes and a hair tie to "get the job done"

Jakes eyes meet yours from across the table, looking dead at you through his eyebrows as he tongues his cheek ever so slightly - his shit-eating smirk growing in size.

"what?" you just about fall out of your seat, eager to know what the fuck he was staring at you for. Jake shakes his head with a toothy smile as he responds

"nothing baby, absolutely nothing"

the familiarity of his voice makes you weak at the knees, but you cant seem to remember where the fuck you've heard it from.

"Jake.." you tilt your head in question before he looks back down at your phone.

within a couple seconds, Jake sends the pictures you took to himself before handing your phone back, the smirk unwavering on his face.

you glare at him once more before checking your phone to see if he did anything to it and to your surprise - he hadn't.

Jake sneakingly peels his phone out of his pocket and heads to twitter - switching accounts subtly.

Just as you're about to put your phone in your pocket, your favorite notification pops up on your screen- making you just about chuck your phone across the room.

you tap on it, and your phone brings you to J's most recent post.

Its two separate photos - one showing the outline of his cock through his boxers, his pale abs illuminated in the dim fluorescent lighting. the second photo is of his cock uncovered and fully hard - his tip angry pink as his veiny hand is wrapped around the base of his length, small beads of precum leaking from his slit.

The worst part? the caption.

i know baby

you attempt to control the instant pool in your panties, your thighs clamping down on one another as you like the post in order to save it for later before closing the app and setting your phone on the table, a shaky exhale falling from your lips.

"you alright?" jake asks from across the table, taking a sip of his drink.

"yeah, i'm fine just a little tired, lets get out of here. We can go back to my house if you want?" you smile at him as he accepts your offer, the gears in his head already spinning inorder to create a little web of a plan.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

spending the night at jakes house was a norm- especially if your room mate had one of her sneaky links over for the night.

the walls were thin, and you had early morning classes to get to.

"Jake, where do you keep your coffee" you attempt to yell over the sound of the shower, the need for caffeine bigger than your will to live in this moment. you open a cabinet, finding the familiar coffee box on the top shelf.

you curse under your breath with a huff before stand on your tip-toes, outstretching your arm in order to try and grab your drug, but another, longer arm beats you to it, and when you look down is when you realize the sound of the shower had stopped moments ago, another pale hand gripping the counter by your side - trapping you.

you turn your head, coming face to face with a pale, bare chest. small droplets of water drip from Jakes damp hair and down his chest and abs, his vline stopping abruptly (and rudely) before the rest of him is covered by a pair of grey sweats.

you drink in the sight of the man before trailing your eyes up to his face, dark eyes staring back.

Jake sets the box of coffee on the counter before pressing his palm into the wooden cupboard above your head, shifting his body a hair closer to yours, his dick gently brushing up against the plush of your ass.

"jake..?" you question in a hushed whimper as he pushes himself closer, leaning his head down to the shell of your ear.

your head tilts on instinct, eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

your heart thumps hard against your rips, it feels as if your stomach is about to fall out of your ass as he whispers, warm breath fanning against your skin.

"let me help you" you can basically feel the stupid smirk adoring his face as he speaks, making you lightheaded and needy.

you wanted him to pick you up and bend you over the counter, cover your mouth and pound into you relentlessly until you're screaming for him to stop.

you wanted him to sink to his knees and eat you out from behind as he fingers your sopping, needy cunt.

you wanted to ride that stupid smirk off his face, but just as quickly as he came, he peeled away from you with a warm chuckle.

"just thought you could use a hand" he walks backwards and out of the kitchen, and the grip you had on the counter was deadly as you attempt to ground yourself, the fluttering of your pussy not helping you.

"screw you." you throw a coffee capsule at him and raise a hand to your forehead, cooling yourself off.

Before jake made his way to his room, he speaks again

"your phone went off by the way" you lift your eyes to him just as he shoots you a deadly wink, and every ounce of restraint you had was hanging on by a thread as you stop over to your phone

without even checking the notification, only noticing it was from twitter - you open the app to find another picture J had posted.

This one instantly made you squeal under your breath.

it was one picture of him, a mirror picture.

it was taken in a steamy bathroom, he was leaning against a wall turned sideways one hand covering his face as he leaned his head backwards, the other was holding up the phone to take the picture

His dick was flush against his abdomen, sitting right below his bellybutton. his damp hair dripping down his body and a towel was lazily thrown over his shoulder.

fuck, you wanted to sit on it, bounce on it, do fucking tricks on it.

"im not fucking doing this" you like the post before commenting something dumb under it, and as soon as you did so, jakes phone dinged from across the room

but as per usual, you paid no mind.

you grumble and gather your school bag before grabbing one of jakes redbulls from the fridge.

"what are you doing?" jake merges from his room, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, eyes following you bounce around the living room.

"leaving. I'll be back later." you huff before heading out of the apartment and towards campus, deciding to buy a coffee instead of make one because if you were around jake for once second longer - you were afraid you would pounce on him.

Jake laughed to himself as the door slammed behind you before making his way to his phone and checking your comment

"I'm going to bounce on it and all of you fucks are gonna watch me"

jake groans before replying to your comment

"i'll be waiting baby, doors wide open"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"When are you gonna be here?" your phone vibrates on your desk, your mind coming out of a too-realistic daydream. you check the message, finding yourself smiling a little too much at the sender.

"in around an hour, just finishing up this class and i'll be on the way" you text Jake, your eyes tired from staring at your notes all day long.

And if jake were to time this correctly, you were in for a big surprise.

Just as you turned down Jakes block, a good two minute walk away from his front door, a notification pops up on your screen as you scroll mindlessly through your instagram feed. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

J was live

And not on his normal time schedule either.

you tap the notification wearily, turning down your volume despite having headphones in.

The familiar background of dark room is illuminated in a dim lighting thanks to the gaming monitor screen he has lit, his led lights red- and right in the center of the screen was J

his dick completely hard against his lower abdomen, one of his hands wrapping around the base of his cock - pumping himself ever so slowly.

you fish the spare key that jake had given you months ago out of your bag , unlocking the door, and walking into the dim and chilly apartment.

"oh my god." you whisper under your breath as the quiet groans fill your ears - kicking the door closed with your foot before striding into the livingroom.

it suddenly hit you that the entire apartment was quiet and dark apart from jakes bedroom door being cracked ; red and white lighting shining through the gaps of his door.

"Jake.?" you call out to the seemingly empty apartment, goosebumps arising on your skin as a weird feeling sinks into the pit of your stomach.

silence is returned to your call, and the air around you begins to feel heavy.

"come here baby." the low command rings in your ear followed by more hushed groans, and you cant tell if it came through your phone, or if you genuinely heard it.

knowing in the pit of your stomach the right answer - but refusing to acknowledge such

your heart thumps rapidly in your chest, completely covering your slow steps towards jakes door, the puzzle pieces beginning to fold into one another as realization races towards you head on.

"jake.." you call out to him again before using your free hand to push his door open- and the sight makes you instantly freeze.

there he was, that familiar mask staring right back at you - palming his dick slowly and steadily.

you attempt to blink the lightheadedness away- but to no avail, hes still sitting there; legs spread and inviting as his stare burns holes through your body.

you look at him, then at your phone, and back up at him, trying to make sense of it all.

"hi baby" he tilts his head at you, his movements unwavering while he strokes himself. jakes voice is deep as he speaks,

"what.. ja-.. im..-"

”come here” his voice is commanding, but you refuse to advance his words, not knowing which part of your body to move first. jake grows impatient at your silence, so as his thumb moves to run over the slit of his cock, his other hand comes to pat his lap

giving you an ultimatum

"you gon' bounce on it.." his legs spread even further as fat drops of precum leak out of his tip, a low, strained groan leaving his throat

"..and make all of them watch?" he then tilts his head towards his monitor, a teasing edge to his voice as he hangs your earlier words over your head. the smirk prominent in his tone, making you feel all sorts of things spark up within the pits of your core.

you stand there in the doorway, staring at the man a mere few feet away from you, a mental war circulating around in your head

"come here baby, let me please you" his body swivels in his chair while his fingers moves up into the air, cohesively influencing you with a ‘come here’ motion. everything that was once screaming at you finally subsided as you shift further into the room - taking your coat off in the process.

you want to shrivel into nothingness as jake eyefucks you from across the room, your feet pattering on the floor as you make your way over to stand inbetween his spread legs.

"there she is" jake says as his cool fingers dip to ghost over the skin on the back of the thighs, gently caressing you.

his touch is like fire against you, leaving trails of third degree burns in their path as they move up to cup the mounds of your ass under your skirt.

"is this okay, doll?" you shakingly nod, exhaling slowly.

jake massages your ass for a minute before dipping two fingers past your cheeks and towards your fluttering hole from behind.

Jake hisses at the feeling of your damp panties, embarrassment beginning to flood through your veins and a whimper exits your throat involuntarily. jake looks up at you with hungry eyes, your pussy clenching around nothing.

without a word, jake grips your hips tightly before spinning you around and forcing you to sit on his lap, careful of his angry erection and making sure your face stays out of frame.

the man behind you then slides his hands up underneath your thighs once more, leaning his head down to whisper in your ear just loud enough for the viewers to hear - his deep voice sending shivers down your spine

"wanna show them that pretty little pussy baby? all wet and needy for me hmm?" his fingers run up and down your clothed slit under your thin skirt. you hum an answer, and thats just enough for jake to grip your thigh harshly and spread them apart- revealing the damp patch seeping through your pretty lacy panties.

"fuck.." jake mutters before reaching behind him and grabbing what appears to be a black blindfold. your stomach churns as he lifts it up over your head and your world plunges into darkness within a fraction of a second

“gotta make sure my girl stays mine… can’t let them see who you are hmm?” you nod your head, and every sense is suddenly heightened and you can hear the hum of the heater and the fan of his gaming monitor

wrapping his arms under your knees and lifting you up in the air- jake readjusts your legs to spread apart even further on his lap- legs dangling on either side of his thighs as your skirt hikes up to your hips.

the newfound position bares your clothed pussy completely to the camera, jakes cock resting on your inner thigh.

he keeps one hand on your thigh - making sure you stay spread as the other comes to trace up and down your wet slit before pulling your panties to the side

“I agree, she is very pretty” jake speaks before kissing the skin behind your ear, biting your ear lobe before his cool fingers dip between the wet folds of your pussy. you question when he had slid his mask up enough to do such a thing, but every thought flies out of your mind.

a gasp falls from your lips at the contact, your chest heaving up and down in an attempt to catch your breath, an unlimited amount of comments filtering through the screen unstopping.

"focus on me pretty girl" he says into your ear, his plastic mask bumping the side of your head.

jake focuses his fingers on your clit, drawing lazy shapes onto your bundle of nerves that has you twitching in his hold - moans and whimpers picking up volume

"j-ja- ah-" you gasp at the feeling of two fingers slipping into your cunt, stopping half way in as you jump in his lap.

"oh my god... please.." you whimper, making jakes ego swell and his dick pulse.

"yeah? what do you want angel?" your head falls onto jake’s shoulder, exhaustion clouding over your mind.

you shake your head and bring your bottom lip between your teeth, arms reaching up and behind you to grip onto jake’s biceps in order to ground yourself.

“more… want more please” you beg, making jake’s chest vibrate with a laugh

”m’ gonna need you to be more specific love, tell me what you want beautiful” your hips grind up into his palm, silently giving him your answer- but its not good enough

jakes patience is running out, quickly.

he slaps your clit, a squeal ripping from the back of your throat

”finger me” you say loud and demanding, a pout prominent on your lips

”want you to finger me please…” your voice lowers in embarrassment, scared that someone had heard you.

”good girl,” two of his fingers slip into your fluttering hole, and you instantly feel relief in your abdomen. your legs shake and you squirm around in jake’s lap as his fingers fuck into you slowly.

”how does it feel pretty girl?” you whine and wiggle your hips, silently begging for more

”feels good… more- want more please” you ask nicely, making the man behind you smile and kiss your temple

”since you asked so politely..”

maybe you shouldn’t have asked, because the pace jake settles on is ruthless and unwavering as his fingers move fast inside you- pumping your needy cunt like it was his own

your body pushes further into jake’s chest as your quiet whimpers from earlier turn into high-pitched moans, one hand coming up to grip a firm handful of jake’s hair.

jake moans at the contact, his free hand coming up to wrap around your throat in a tight grip, making your pussy clench around his quickly-paced fingers. adding more stimulation- jake uses his thumb to press up against your clit, drawing lazy, focused circles on the mound of nerves

his fingers curl inside you- making you yelp, your head coming to bury itself in jake’s neck

”oh? right there hm?” he questions, curling his fingers once more. a strangled sob leaves your mouth, so jake thrusts his fingers in again and again, hitting that same sweet spot deep within your walls

”im,, gonna cum,,, s’ too much please” sweat beads at your hairline, and your lips are bleeding slightly from biting down so hard.

Jakes ears perk up, his abandoned dick straining against your thigh.

”cum for me then doll, show them how much of a slut you are for me, yeah?” his words throw you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on jakes long fingers as he haunts his movements inside you

jake audibly gasps at the sight of you when he looks at the monitor screen - your mouth is agape and your spread unbelievably wide for him, your cum literally riveting out of your twitching cunt and you attempt to fold your legs in on yourself

you were a mess

and it was all for him.

you were driving him insane

Jake gives you little to no time to calm down before he’s man handling you to face him, making you whine in protest-

but as soon as he begins to lower you down onto his lap; dick prodding at your entrance- your whines of protest fall into moans of need

“m’ sorry baby, i know i know… just can’t hold back anymore… need to be inside you right fucking now” your legs fold on each side of jakes as he lowers you down onto him, his tip splitting you sweetly

”oh fuck… oh my god” you gasp at the new-found feeling

all of the men you’ve sleep’d with never compared to the man on the screen or your best friend ,, and now that you’re about to be split in half by both was more than a dream come true

”s’ big… hurts..” you speak into jakes ear, and he swears he hears his heart thump against his ribs

”i know sweetheart… i’ll make you feel so good i promise.. be a good girl for me and stay still ‘kay?” you nod your head, arms wrapping around jakes shoulders for stability- ass completely bared to the camera as jakes huge hands tightly grip your cheeks in order to lower you down

every inch stings, but relief pools in the pit of your stomach once you’re lowered completely down, his balls flush against your ass as your pussy flutters around his length

after a moment, you begin to squirm in anticipation- and jake instantly begins grinding his hips up into you- hands harshly gripping your ass in his hold to help you bounce up and down

”oh god… so fuckin’ tight… you’re gonna be the death of me” one of jakes hands moves to cup your cheek, fingers slipping under the blindfold as he lifts it up and over your head - throwing it across the room before cupping your cheek once more

you stare at his eyes through the mask, your lips parted ever so slightly as breathless moans drip from your tongue

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers before catching his lips on yours, one hand on your ass coming to snake around the small of your back- pressing your chests against one another as the one on your cheek cups the back of your head, holding you still

your hips keep moving, your body sliding up and down his dick as you ride him at a steady pace.

you curl into jakes warmth as your mouths move in sync with one another, hands coming to grip his hair roughly, becoming more and more needy as time go’s on

jakes fingers grip onto you tightly- holding you as if you were to slip through his hands at the slightest moment of falter

”thats my girl,,, ride it baby, lose yourself all over me... oh fuck"

your legs work faster on him- fucking yourself down onto jakes cock messily.

“fuck me jake.. make me yours” you throw your head back, but his grip never loosens, jakes mouth coming to latch onto your neck in order to suck deep, beautiful purple and pink marks into your skin

sounds of wet skin slapping sound from just under your hips, bouncing off the walls and filling the apartment perfectly in sync with your sinful moans as jakes mouth works wonders on your skin,, prepping wet, open mouthed kisses all over your neck mindlessly

"such a desperate,, filthy girl fucking yourself on me like that" one of his hands lands a harsh smack on your ass, making you yelp

your hips dont stop, jakes cock hitting that sweet spot deep within your velvety walls.

as a matter of fact, you frantically fuck onto him faster, your juices coming to leak down all over yours and jakes thighs that flow to pool on the chair just below you

"fuckin' whore all for me. absolutely disgusting" he chuckles before biting down harshly on your collarbone, and before you know it, youre creaming all over his dick with a scream, body stilling against his chest as you collapse

"i didn't say we were done" your eyes widen as his huge hands come down to roughly grab your hips, sliding you up and down on his dick as he thrusts up into your puffy, achey cunt.

"wait wait wa- can't... s' too much please" your attempts to squirm out of his hold are pathetic as your body fights against your words, hands wrapping around jakes neck to steady yourself against his quick pace.

"shut up,, im not finished with you yet." his words are so mean, but you cant help the way your pussy clams down on his length at them

your orgasm seeps down onto the chair, nasty squelching noises replacing the sound of your thighs meeting jakes.

"you're gonna take what I give you, so just sit there and look pretty, yeah?" his movements falter for a split second as he speaks, but resumes his assault inside your cunt soon after, your moans turning into hushed mewls as you begin to fade out of your body

"fuck, im so close,,," with one hand suddenly wrapping harshly in your hair, jake makes you look at him - eyes snapping open to meet his through the plastic barrier of his mask

"you gon' take my cum like the pretty little cock sleeve you are? make J proud?' he holds the anonymous name over your head , a smirk gracing his full lips.

all you can do is nod your head as your eyes water, overstimulation taking over your body as it shakes uncontrollably.

"take it baby... fucking take it" his dick twitches inside you and his balls tighten seconds before his cum shoots deep within your walls, making you his.

jake pushes you down onto his length, holding you still as your pussy milks him of everything he is. his head is thrown back, adams apple bobbing up and down as he moans louder than you, your own orgasm coming as the tip of his cock licks your cervix perfectly.

your juices squirt on his abdomen and thighs, your eyes fluttering closed as you collapse on him.

your body takes jake by surprise as he feels your fluids rush down his body to pool in his thigh and chair, looking down inbetween your sweaty bodies to see just how much of a mess the two of you had really made.

his cum was leaking out of your fucked out pussy, and your skirt was partially soaked.

his jaw tic's, and you gently open your eyes to get a look at his expression,,, and your face drains itself of color; he's absolutely lost.

a gasp leaves your mouth, one of his arms wrapping around you, the other coming to lean over you to cut the camera,,, ending the live stream.

"jake!"