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l2vedive · 2 years

Text

I LOVE YOU (SJY).

PAIRING: sim jaeyun/jake x fem!reader

GENRES: includes smut (minors dni), heavy angst, hurt no comfort, slowburn, one sided pining, fluff at the end, friends with benefits, classic communication issues trope, university au

WARNINGS: smut, profanity, making out, implied alcohol use, smoking, semi graphic descriptions of smut (fingering, thigh riding, handjobs, cunnilingus, slapping), one line for dirty talk, reader calls jake baby a lot, name calling (bitch and whore directed at someone), jake constantly gets played, made up female character, jake is hopelessly in love with reader (pls get up), reader is a walking red flag invented by park jaeeon, cheating if you squint, one sexual joke lol, other idols have guest appearances (yeonjun of txt, isa / chaeyoung of stayc, mentions karina of aespa), heeseung doesn't talk much i apologise 🙏🏻

SYNOPSIS: in which yn and jake are in a friends with benefits situation. sort of.

WORD COUNT: 9320 words.

PLAYLIST: here.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaand it's finally here !!!! this was originally written for itzy which is still published on my ao3 acc , however , i decided to rewrite it for enhypen to get over my writer's block rhksjdjed . i hope you enjoy it regardless <33 the dialogue jake says in june is from richard siken's masterpiece "crush", which i suggest you read because it is a very good book. jake stans this one's for you !!! :DD

TAGLIST: @help-i-cant-find-a-username @cherrybxmbby @woozisnoots @fairyofhee @asyleums @cha0thicpisces @aliensrme @enhygene-phen @slut-4-jake @princesjy @axartia

It's September when the papers on the desk slide down to the floorboards: the steel painted blue table is cold against your skin, almost burning you with intensity until Jake pulls you back up to his mouth by your hair, and has you pressed up on the wall just by his bedroom door. Jake's tongue smoothes over the fresh set of hickeys on the nape of your neck, your collarbone, your tits, and your chest bursts with fire with every touch and feel. It gets hotter when he hears the needy whines coming from you and, Oh my god, Jake thinks. I need to kiss her. I need to. Your jeans, that you never got to take off completely, are tangled by your feet and your thoughts stop when Jake slips another finger in, curling it just right.

"Fuck," You glance at the window over at Jake's shoulder, the light of your computer reflecting on the pane as the clock hits 12:00 AM.

"Hm?" Jake hums against you and it sends vibrations throughout your body, enough for him to hit the spot.

"Happy two years, pretty." Jake mumbles when he finally pulls away and puts his fingers in your mouth. The sight alone is enough for him to feel hot and bothered all over again as you suck off the boy's fingers. Jake smiles through his plump lips, smeared by your leftover lip gloss from when you kissed him earlier.

You hop on the beans of your toes as you get your jeans back up. Your bra's still hanging onto one shoulder and your shirt is nowhere to be found. The hickeys on your neck are still fresh and sore, forming hues of purple. Jake hands you his shirt instead. For you to wear and for you to take home to wear. (He sort of hopes you sleep in it too. Hopes you think of him before going to bed.).

You pop a cigarette in your mouth and he lights it up for you, leaning in close. His skin burns as the flame meets the hilt of his thumb and his heart sort of aches when you immediately soothe it with a kiss.

"Happy two years, Jaeyun," You say casually. "Do you have a wish this year?"

"None that I can think of," Jake replies. You watch, blowing smoke as he attempts to shrug a new set of clothes back on, running his hand through his disheveled hair. Out of habit, he moves to brush the strands of hair that might poke your eyes away before tucking it behind your ear delicately.

Jake loves you. Despite that this is always how it goes and not just everytime you celebrate your "friendship" anniversary.

Because with you this is always how it goes.

"Yeah, same," You say. Your eyes are dark and they're focused, playing into his. He knows. For as long as Jake has known you, you've always had one. And it is always a secret.

You always ask him first. So that when it's your turn to be asked, you can pretend. You can say no and end it there. Because that is always how it goes with you. You've got a habit of keeping skeletons in the closet even with your best friend.

But Jake isn't stupid. He always knows what you're up to. It's in the way of how you carry yourself after every fuck, how your eyes seem to lower and darken, how you don't fix up your hair neatly like you always do for school every morning, letting it fall just like that.

(He thinks you're setting up a metaphor for it. Like, you have this prim and perfect picture exterior to outsiders but when night falls, he gets the real you: unpredictable, messy, needy, full of want and unashamed to say it.).

Jake always knows.

He wonders if this is why you don't say anything. Jake wonders if this is why you always seem to hide from him, despite being friends since forever. He wonders why you look at him in ways he knows that would make him feel things, why you're picking up his shirt, helping him put it on, and giving him an open-mouthed kiss before walking out.

The bitter aftertaste settles on his tongue. "Please stay," Jake says. "I love you."

Instead, you hear it as, "Don't smoke and drive."

ii.

It's October and Jake doesn't dress up for Halloween.

But you do, and you are undeniably hot in a skimpy impractical security officer uniform, with a devastating amount of cleavage that Jake wants his mouth on.

Jake had never really planned on going tonight, but he kind of had to, because all his friends were going and you were definitely going. He really wished he hadn't though. His friends are long gone, flirting with the other partygoers left and right, and by the time he has reached the bathroom to pee, he could hear obnoxious loud moans.

He is considering going home and slipping into his bed to watch a movie until you emerge from the crowd of people, looking pretty, hot and sexy as hell. Do not fucking look at her.

But it's no use because you're walking towards him with a devilish smirk tugging on your lips. "Hey, Jae," you say. "C'mere." You smell like fruit punch and alcohol and you're too close for Jake to be at ease.

You promptly push Jake onto the couch, plopping yourself onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs on either side of Jake's. It's hot in the room all of a sudden and Jake's breath hitches in his throat.

You're in public. Where people could see you. You never do anything sexual in public.

"YN," Jake starts. "What are you doing?" His brow furrows, obviously confused.

"Shut up," Your breath is in Jake's ear and it's warm and tingly and enough for the hairs behind his neck to stand. For his cock to twitch in his jeans. Jake finds that his hands are gripping your ass.

Jake moves his head away to look around the room before looking back into your eyes. You have contact lenses on and he feels like falling into it. But he knows that by the time he has, when you approach him on campus tomorrow, you won't remember anything. It's blue and it's powerful and it's pulling him in. He thinks blue suits you. His favourite colour with his favourite girl.

Despite his hazy view of you on top, Jake is about to stop you and ask what you mean until you lace a fistful of his hair in your hands behind his neck and kiss him.

And even though you've kissed a lot, this was extremely different. For so many reasons.

For one, oh my god. You are on his lap, half-naked with your ass in his hands and your tits pressed up close, and Jake actually prays his boner doesn't build up a tent through his jeans. Second, you're in public. And third, you never had sex in public. At least not with him. But now he gets to feel the experience of doing so in your kiss. You are so good. You are so fucking good . Jake knows that you know what you're doing with every soft bite on his bottom lip, every flick and suck of your tongue dancing with his, every moan devoured by him.

He's not so bad himself and he knows it too. You taught him how.

You aren't finished when you start grinding your hips against him and Jake fights every bone in his body to move with you. "Fuck, YN," And it comes out as a hiss rather than a warning. You were too good . Too addicting .

It's even harder when he feels your hand fall back and in between you both, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, palming him through his boxers. "Come on, Jake," You say, but Jake feels like you're pushing him rather than asking. "Do you want this or not?"

So Jake lets you. For a second until he pulls away and is out of breath. His heart hammers inside of his chest and he's quick enough to get ahold of your hand, stopping you.

He moves to get up, pushing you off of his lap and embarrassingly, you stagger on your heels before falling on the couch. You don't say anything. And even though he's confused, you know he's pissed. You are too.

"I don't always want to fuck you, YN,"

"You're so boring," You say.

"And you're drunk," Jake replies, straightening his posture. Because when you got drunk, you were out like a mad woman. Between the two of you, he was the lightweight and that was actually how the two of you became friends; he was sure he could keep up with you the moment Heeseung had introduced the both of you to each other at his last house party, immediately taking an interest in you. Long story short, he liked you and you liked having him for company, and it just snowballed from there.

But for now, his mind is racing and his clothes suddenly feel tight on him—and no, it's not because of his boner—worse, his throat almost chokes up when he hears: "I'm sober."

"I don't care," I do. I care so much. "I can't let you do this."

Suddenly, you get up, your faces in close proximity. Jake feels like it’s just the two of you in the room and if that were the case, he would've already screwed you all over the couch himself.

"You want to fuck me, Jake," You say lowly. Your face is stone cold and it almost feels like you're challenging him. (You are.). "I know you do."

Jake shakes his head. He looks at you and swallows. You almost allow yourself to break down all your walls for him with the way he's staring at you.

"Come on, Jaeyunie," You press, the cute tone hanging off the nickname you give him. "I know you want to." You giggle as you curl your finger around one of his belt loops, tugging him closer.

Your voice knocks him out of his windpipe and it's enough for him to know that he's failed from holding himself back. From getting mad at you.

"I do," Jake manages. "I love you, let's stop this. Let's go home."

But he says it like this: "No, I can’t do this tonight." And turns away, disappearing into the crowd.

iii.

It's November and it's raining.

You're all gathered around your living room, watching a horror movie that Jake knows he won't be paying attention to.

It's dark with all the lights off and it's creepier with the faint sounds of raindrops hitting the backyard's porch. There are only two sources of light, however. One from the television where Scream plays and another is from Jake's dimly lit side where you seemed to be texting under the blankets propped over the both of you.

It's quiet most of the time, except for the occasional bickering from Sunoo, who teases Jay for his reactions, and you look bored throughout the film. Jake is, too.

He is about to lean over and make a funny comment about the scene that was currently rolling on screen but he catches a glimpse of your screen and immediately, he feels guilty for looking. Because right there on your screen are messages between you and god knows who, and a picture of you almost topless.

And suddenly, you excuse yourself, phone in your hand before heading down the hallway to the bathroom. Jake doesn’t move, wondering if you knew he was looking. Instead, he waits and settles that you probably had an emergency to take care of.

It's been fifteen minutes and Jake grows worried. By now, almost everyone has fallen asleep and you still haven't gotten back from the bathroom.

Quietly, Jake tiptoes away from his position and instantly jogs down to the bathroom. It's silent and his heartbeat is loud in his ears; he's not sure why he's nervous. "YN?" He calls out. Nothing.

To his surprise, there's no one inside and the door is unlocked for her to look. It's empty and Jake swallows thickly. Once, twice and third is the hardest as he starts to panic. Where did you go?

Immediately, Jake heads upstairs to search for you in one of the rooms. He heads to yours first and it's locked. "YN?" He questions, knocking on the door. He can hear shuffling and movements, and Jake doesn't know what to think of.

"YN!" He raises his voice slightly, afraid not to wake the others up as he slams his hand against the door. No oxygen. No oxygen. It’s heavy, he's aching, his heart is a mess. Breathe, Jaeyun. Breathe . Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Breathe, Jaeyun. Fucking breathe.

The door swings open and he sees you half-naked in bed. In front of you, is Heeseung shuffling to get his pants up. Jake's eyes dart back and forth and the older boy slides behind him.

You say nothing at all as you sit up and put your hoodie back on.

"Hey, man," Heeseung says, but it comes out as a question. "I actually have to be somewhere else right now. See you, Jake." He's gone before Jake could reply.

Frozen, Jake doesn't say anything. It takes him a moment to process what just happened.

"I—," He starts. There is so much that he wants to say but nothing comes up. He feels dizzy almost and his nail beds are bloodied from piercing them into his skin. He releases when he feels your lips on his.

Your lips are soft and it's sweet, and it's nothing he's used to. He's so confused, god, you were so confusing. "I'm sorry," Jake blurts out, because nevertheless, he still loves you. So much.

"Don't be sorry, baby," You say fondly. "You got me." But I don't , Jake thinks . I don't get you. I can never have you.

His eyes are closed when he allows you to kiss him. To touch him so softly and whisper sweet nothings that he knows he'll never stop thinking about when he pictures your hand as his own when he gets himself off at night.

Jake knows that his friendship with you is unusual. You both know it. You turn up every day if you can, allow him to finger you until you're crying and writhing your hips, let him use your mouth on his cock in return until his entire body is rattling with aftershocks by the time he comes. You seem to get whatever you seem to want from him, and stupidly so, Jake allows you.

He loves you. And you hate him. He knows you do.

Jake breathes hard, and he's kind of embarrassed by how easy it is of him to completely melt under your touch. How easy it is for him to get turned on until he gets so primal, lust clouding his head and pulsing his veins. He suddenly realises your positions have switched as his back hits the duvet and he's tangling his hands into your hair, hands brushing down to tilt your chin and have you look at him in the eyes.

You giggle and teasingly untie the laces of his sweatpants, brushing your fingers softly near the areas Jake wants your hand to touch and more, trailing a teasing path that only makes him needier and harder than he already is. Your hand travels down his abdomen, carefully advancing its way into his boxers as you begin to pump his cock. Hot and spilling with pre-cum in the middle of his hips.

"Please kiss me again," He chokes out. "Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like you love me, even if it's just for tonight."

You hear it as: "Fuck, YN. Keep going, please."

It's chaos .

iv.

It's December and you have a boyfriend. And it's every December, every year that you have a boyfriend.

Jake is trying to busy himself with the nape of your neck and the way he breathes fans in your hair like he's tired. He is so tired.

You recognise it and kiss him more intensely, shoving him against the car window. Jake feels it and draws back, the taste of your cherry flavoured lip gloss lingering in his mouth, weighted on his tongue like a stray "I love you" caught between his teeth. You attempt to get Jake back into your hold, your hand sneaking underneath his hoodie, but Jake opens his eyes.

"Come on, Jaeyunie, we only have tonight."

"I don't want to do this anymore." Jake says.

You constantly keep the air conditioner on full throttle and never care about anybody else, except when you take what you want from them, and Jake is so fucking sick of it. You are self-centred and a cunt, and it takes it all out of him to not push you away again when you come leaning forwards, kissing him everywhere and pulling his hoodie up. Selfish, insistent, oblivious, insensitive.

"Can you stop?" Jake says, scooting back to the seat. "I'm so tired of this."

The car engine revs up and the lights flash for a second, igniting color into the dark neighbourhood. You hesitantly step on the gas pedal. "What's wrong, Jake?"

"I'm right here, always," Jake says. "I'm right fucking here, in front of you, next to you, and yet you don't see it. You never think of anyone else, YN. It's always about you."

You drum your fingers against the steering wheel and switch on your turn signal. There's another cigarette hanging on your lips. You drive down the lane and into the main road. You're going to drive in circles and it's a perfectly sick metaphor. (Another one to add in Jake's book.).

When the green lights come on, you pull slowly with the brakes and come to a dead stop at the yellow lights, constantly waiting for the red lights and stop signs so you can reach over the armrest and kiss him again.

"You know that's not true, baby."

"Stop that," Jake reprimands. "You know it is."

You take a drag and exhale out the smoke, not bothering to roll down the windows. You glance behind him in the street among the smoke and briskly pull over. "What the fuck is your problem today?" you ask, turning to him.

"Forget about it." Jake says. His skin stings where you've bruised him with your teeth. Where you've touched him. Where he pretends to say it hurts when he's screwing other girls so they won't touch him there. Won't touch him where you've marked him. He feels sick.

"Do you want to talk or are you going to leave?" You shuffle, rolling down the window and throwing out your cigarette. You're angry, Jake can see it.

"Do you have feelings for him?" Jake finally says. His voice embarrassingly breaks in reaction to the question, making him want to leave, walk away, throw up, and cry. You've barely made it back to the block.

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair. "Fucking hell."

"Just answer the question, YN." Jake replies.

"Of course, he's my boyfriend. You're my friend."

"Yeah, no shit, I am!" Jake says a little too loudly, sitting up and staring up at the mirror he's pulled down earlier. He's laughing and it's sour when he says: "God, you weren't kidding when you said you had an amazing sense of humour, were you?"

"Get out." You say. Your voice is so low Jake doesn't recognise you.

Jake pales and he's as white as your knuckles, grip tight on the steering wheel. "What?"

"You heard me, Jake. Get out of my car."

Jake reaches over for a kiss, trying to get you to kiss him again and forget about it. Trying to get you to fuck him over, and all over just like how he does when he fucks you until you both can’t think of anything other than each other's names.

You nod your head. "I gave you two choices. You chose this."

"No, I chose you," Jake seethes, suddenly angry. "I always, always fucking choose you."

"It's not like I asked you to." You snap, closing your eyes. You're too defeated, too tired of Jake's antics.

Heartbeat ringing in his ears, Jake falls back down on his seat. "You're unbelievable," He says. "I can't believe you."

You say nothing at all. It's quiet and it's too long until you turn the car off.

Jake stares at the road ahead of you. "I love you, I didn't mean it," he says.

He says it in this way: he puts his hoodie back on, pulls on the lock and pushes the door open, he gets out and slams it closed.

He cries the whole walk home.

It's still December when you're sprawled all over Chaeyoung's bed, watching the other girl type away her essay due upside down.

"You know, YN, someone called me baby the other day,"

You hum in response. "Yeah?" You ask, sitting up and lying on her stomach. "Who was it?"

"Some boy I kissed at Jimin-unnie's Christmas party."

The Christmas party in question is nothing special, just a gathering of friends at Yoo Jimin's place, at least that's what you remember Jake telling you over the phone. Jimin's Christmas parties were a hit and you knew how crazy it usually went. Her Halloween party that you attended last month too (the same one where you and Jake had a confrontation, the one that you remember, the one that always replays at the back of your head), proved how truly popular the girl was.

Parties were usually your setting. You hung out with most of the popular crowds for this reason. You liked going out, dressing up and having the adrenaline rush kick in your body's system as the loud music booms in your ears and colourful lights wash over you and a bunch of other dancing bodies. You lied to Jake on the phone, laying out those reasons for your shitty excuse not to go. Besides, you weren't really interested in partying and dancing after what happened that night with him. You learn from Sunoo the next day that Jake didn't go either.

"Well," You start. "Jake calls me baby too." You say it like it's nothing and Chaeyoung immediately turns around.

Chaeyoung looks like she's choking down a laugh until she realises you're not following it up with something else. "Like, as a joke right?"

You stop drawing invisible stars on the girl's bed sheets, delaying a response. "Jake calls me baby. Only he calls me that," Your voice lowers down to a whisper, so fragile that it breaks. (A crack in the walls.). "I do too. When we're fucking around."

Chaeyoung blinks at you. "But you're his friend."

"I am. We're friends," You reply, sighing. "I know that."

"Well, if one of you likes the other��I'm assuming it's the both of you , by the way," Chaeyoung hesitates with the way you're blatantly staring at her. "Why won't either of you say anything about it?"

"Because I can't do that. We're strictly friends. You know me, Chae, I can't just change what we have. It's a bit more complicated than that." You're frustrated and you know you have no right to be for the way you've treated him. For the way you're still treating him. It's not complicated, you think. He's a teenage boy and you're a girl.

You're LN YN.

You always had things figured out.

Girls are always supposed to have the upperhand with these kinds of things. You learned this the hard way when Chaeyoung had called you during graduation night in high school when she had let her guard down and had a boy shatter her. You’ve always been protective of her; the same kind of energy had channelled into the way you’ve had your situationships, never spilling more than you let on.

You sit in silence for a few more seconds and Chaeyoung clears her throat, saying she has to get back to her work. Before you allow her to continue, you say: "I'll say it. I'll tell him I love him too."

You pronounce it as, "I'll be off. Good luck on your assignment, take a break when you can." before getting your stuff, heading out the door and downstairs, and finally leaving.

It's January when Jake opens the front door and sees that you're parked on his driveway, leaning against your car. You both stay a good ten feet away from each other until you say: "Happy New Year, baby."

And Jake smiles, falling in love all over again, feeling ecstatic with the sudden rush of euphoria in his body. It's the summer-like smile, warm and nice, that shows you're being sincere. You walk over to him and tug him down by balling his white shirt into your fist, kissing him and smiling.

"YN," Jake says. There's an edge in his voice that makes him feel unsure, despite wanting you then and there. "People can see us. We're in public."

The smile on your face widens and it makes Jake's heart hurt. God, she is so beautiful.

"Let them see. I don't care." You kiss and kiss, Jake pulling firmly on your shirt (his shirt) until you push yourself onto him and he walks you backwards into the house. Jake manages to kick the door shut with his shoe, mouth still on you as he drives you to the edge.

"Jake," You say as he runs his hands up your back, clutching you close to his chest. His heart. His face, pressed into the comforting skin between your neck and collarbone.

"Yeah," He says, more like a sigh.

You don't remember what you were going to say. " Shit , Jake, I—,”

Jake has his thigh locked in between your legs, pressing onto your core. The scene between you two is prodded perfectly against his warm skin. You can't think. You can't think at all.

Jake feels you grinding your hips up and down, rubbing your clothed cunt excruciatingly slow on his thigh and right over his crotch which earns him a mewl from you. Your eyes are closed, and your fingers have found its way under his shirt, nails clawing into his back.

"Jesus Christ, YN ."

Your eyes flutter slowly, and you see Jake appearing more flustered than you've previously seen him. His eyes are filled with astounding desire. "Shut up and kiss me," You say.

And because Jake loves you, he does. Over and over and over again.

vi.

It’s February and there are roses and pink balloons everywhere. It's Valentines' Day.

There are couples kissing and holding hands in the hallway and all Jake can do is lean by his locker and watch. But not in a creepy, stalkerish way, in a way that he sort of pictures you and him like that, and pretend that you both could be like normal people and have a normal relationship.

He's about to turn away when he sees you. You, hand in hand, with your boyfriend, Lee Heeseung. His best friend.

You walk right past him, not batting an eye at him; not even a smile. Because this is always how it goes. It's always like this with you.

You were expressionless yet Jake could see right through the façade, and he knows that the reason why you never look at him is because the moment you do, you lose.

Jake prays to his lucky stars that you do. Because he loves you. God , does he love you. He always will.

It's still February. It's raining again.

You're over.

You've been over a lot recently, every other day, every Friday. Not to fuck though, which Jake finds weird. Usually, you only ever come over to: A) Fuck each other's brains out and have him fuck you until you're sore in all places, and B) Make him cry; whether the context is him hopelessly trying to get you to fall for him or to abruptly leave to "have to be somewhere else", knowing you say it like that to try and not to hurt his feelings. Jake never knows. You only ever come over for your sexual arrangements and nothing more.

He prompts himself to think nothing of it, taking it as a good, little surprise for himself, and asks you if you wanted to do anything specific.

"It's your house," You say casually, sliding your phone into your back pocket. "Do you wanna do anything tonight?"

Jake stares at you, reading your face and looks for any signs that show disinterest. You smile, warm and tingly that it's fuzzy in Jake's stomach, as if to let him know that you'll stay regardless.

Another surprise: you make an effort and allow him to make an offer without implying a second.

Jake declares tonight is different and asks you if you want to watch a movie, to which you respond "yes" before suggesting that you head to Jake's bedroom once the movie ends.

So tonight is different, indeed. Tonight he has you cuddled up to one of his plushies on the couch with five metres to spare as Patch Adams plays on the screen. You're not touching, in any way, because you intricately hold yourself off from Jake unless it's in a state of undress, positioning your bodies so that non-sexual contact is non-existent.

It hurts only a little.

You both are friends but that is never how it is between you and him. Truthfully, it hurts.

Halfway through the movie, you have fallen asleep while Jake stays awake to finish as he watches Patch graduate to receive his Doctor of Medicine and bow to his professors and the audience. Occasionally, his eyes dart over to you, whose breathing is quiet and beautiful as your chest rises and falls with your hair sprawled messily on the pillows.

He wants to reach out, hold your hand, touch you, and fit into the perfectly good space between the two of you and lay his head on your shoulder, because, logically speaking, you have had your tongue on his dick and Jake has reciprocated with his on the apex of your clit, and you've seen each other naked countless of times, and all of your fingers have mapped out the pleasures of the others' genitals, but it doesn't work that way.

Jake knows it. For a long time, since the day he has agreed to this illicit affair that you have proposed, he has.

But you're right there, asleep next to him, and the love bite on your collarbone isn't from him, so there’s no point in keeping score.

Jake falls asleep a little later, the words, "Please love me like I do with you," on his lips.

In the morning, it comes off as him cooking breakfast for the two of them and you walking up to him to give him a kiss. You both know where this is going and he lets it happen.

vii.

It's March, and you're over again.

Mostly for good things.

You sometimes do homework together, cook dinner and breakfast together, depending if you stay over, watch Netflix when there's nothing tolerable on the television, and talk about other things that aren't about asking if the other could cum or not.

Jake isn't used to this, but it is something he could get used to. A few weeks ago and years before that, there were rules, obvious rules that you had laid out right from the start.

You still have sex. Just not all the time. It's every Friday that you plan out all the things for you to do other than sex. It's every Friday that you're over at Jake's house to do couple-y stuff and it makes Jake laugh. She has a boyfriend , he reminds himself. You're just a friend. His feelings don't matter to you.

Sometimes Jake wonders if you only ever see him as somebody to screw, nothing more than a fuckbuddy , telling him you're friends just to keep him around. He's not delusional, of course. He could be if he wanted to, or tried, but he also knows that you can't love him like he does and that's okay.

So right now, you're sitting by the kitchen counter, working on some English assignment. There isn't a lot of work going on, to be honest. You've been playing footsie under the table for the past hour, smiling until your cheeks are rosy and until eye smiles have come out of hiding.

It stops when Jake's phone vibrates to the tune of his ringtone, the default iPhone melody; it's distracting and he has no choice but to take it.

"Hello?" He asks into the phone.

You watch as Jake goes from unsure, nail biting, eyes darting to you for approval of some sort, and finally away to lips parted slightly, blush cheeks and bright smiles.

"I guess, I'll see you then." Jake says, tapping his nails on his textbook. He lets out a laugh before ending.

You don't skip a beat. "Who was that?"

"Jiyoon from—, "

"Dance? Yeah, I know her. She’s a bitch."

"She's pretty chill." Jake replies, eyes squinting as he fixates on the polaroid taped on the wall above his desk.

"Is she really?" You say. You haven't looked away, not once, and it makes Jake slightly nervous.

"Well, how do you know she's a bitch?" Jake quips. "She's actually nice, you know. She hugs me whenever she says hi."

You snort. "That's because she likes you, Jake. Like, romantically."

"What is going on with you?" Jake gets straight to the point. Whether you know it or not, he did notice all the staring from when he was on the phone. It's sort of pissing him off that you're getting so hostile about it when you literally have a boyfriend of your own.

"You're going to her stupid party then, aren't you?" You ask. By now, you've turned your chair to the side, your leg crossing over the other and closing your notes to talk.

"She invited me, of course,"

"And how do you know her?"

Jake laughs. He laughs because you're being ridiculous. He feels like he's sitting for interrogation by his older brother after he caught him coming back home at the dead of night at 3 am once.

"She lives on the next block, YN. We were friends in high school. She's nice to me and she's a good person." Jake shifts in his seat to return to his assignment, hoping you would drop it.

But you aren't finished. Jake can feel you burning holes in your head and the intense clicking from your pen is slowly getting to him.

You're asking too many questions: "Have you seen her?" , "Don't you know that she almost broke my leg during practice because she wanted the center position?" , "Do you really want to go?" Shut up. Shut up. Shut up . Each of them, and he knows you're only doing it to get to him.

And finally: "Are you going with her because you want to know what else she's good at, Jake?"

"Can't you just," Jake harshly slides his chair back, the steel leg screeches against the tiles of his marble floor. "Can't you just leave it alone?"

When he looks up, you're sitting up with your thighs pressed together, hands by your sides as you lean forwards inquisitively. Eyes mirroring each other, Jake stares you down.

"Don't fucking do this to me, YN," His hand curls into a fist, the corner of the notebook page crumpled under his touch. "You've got a boyfriend, don't you? Stop putting your nose in my business."

"It's my business too," You stand, towering over him, your palm flat on the surface of the table while the other rests on the arm of his chair. Your faces, just a few inches away. You breathe hard, your hand curls into a tight fist to keep you from losing it. The paper almost tears apart just by the way you've scrunched it.

(Your walls begin to crumble.).

You can feel Jake's heavy breaths, chest heaving at you, and your heart picks up its pace when his eyes fall on your lips.

"Baby," You start. You can hear his heartbeat racing. Your cells are going insane, screaming at you to kiss him. To touch him. To tell him. But you can’t do that; not when you've already done enough damage to ruin each other. Done enough to ruin him. "Jaeyun. Jake."

"I love you." Jake finally says, his voice barely above whisper.

To you, you hear it as: "We're done studying tonight. Go home, YN." So you do.

He breaks a few minutes later after you leave, locked in his bedroom, crying into his pillows.

viii.

It's April and it's the party.

Jake regrets going.

He's with Jiyoon, who hasn't gone a single minute without trying to impress him. It's nice and he appreciates it, but she’s trying so hard that it's almost embarrassing. But whatever, it's fun. Her party is fun and he tries to forget about her constantly acting cute to enjoy himself. He isn't trying to be an asshole but he always found it uncomfortable when girls around him do not understand the concept of boundaries, which is kind of hypocritical of him to think about because there is absolutely none of that when it comes to the both of you.

It doesn’t really bother him that she's sort of stiff with her dancing, but the music is good and easy to settle in a groove, so he lets her guide him to the makeshift dance floor where he thinks he can see you pressing up to Heeseung and tries not to look your way, trying not to get his heart broken again.

It doesn’t bother him.

He ends up indulging in five more cups of pineapple mimosas and a last minute glass of vodka to top everything all off, because why not?

And he's on the dance floor with Jiyoon, guiding her hips to some new pop song that's currently blaring on the speakers, his hand resting on the small of her back, feeling every movement at once. It makes sense. It's a party and she's enjoying herself. They both are.

What doesn't make sense is how you and your boyfriend have moved a few inches closer to him, dark eyes analysing every movement. Jake knows you're doing this to rile him up, and it's working enough for him to piss you off too.

You're annoyed.

You wanted nothing more than to yank that bitch off of him and be the one who's dancing with him. But you know you can't so instead, you bring your hand up to the back of Heeseung's neck, and it's like he knows what you're trying to do when he presses his lips to your jawline and starts kissing, sucking and biting, travelling lower to the base of your neck. You can feel him smirk when a moan escapes your mouth. You've noticed Jiyoon has turned to your direction to see why Jake seems to be distracted. You fight back a taunting smile.

Heeseung's hand snakes around your waist before resting it on the small of your back, pressing your bodies together which immediately makes you grind your hips against him as you burn your gaze into Jake's. It feels good, you won't lie.

He tears away when Jiyoon turns away from you, flustered, leaving you triumphant. Good .

The next time you look back at them, Jake is no longer to be found. Instead, Jiyoon has found someone else to dance with, and probably take back to her room. Called it .

You're not drunk. Not even close. You haven't had anything since you arrived, agreeing with Chaeyoung, who dragged you here in the first place, that the alcohol was cheap shit.

It's a few minutes later (minutes, not moments. You're not pretentious.) when you feel a hand on your wrist, dragging you away from Heeseung, not bothering to excuse you. You get into the first room Jake decides.

"Clothes off, now."

You rebuff. "I was busy with my boyfriend,"

"I don't give a shit," His voice sounds deeper than usual and you wonder if it's because you've actually managed to make him mad.

Jake ignores you and shuts the door behind you, pushing you against the wall and touching you everywhere while leaving open mouthed kisses by your jawline.

"You say we're friends and yet you pull up some bullshit stunt every chance you think is good for you." He says in between.

"Good for me, good for you, same thing," He doesn't even meet your eyes, looking everywhere as he pulls the back strings of your top, letting it fall to the ground.

"Did you want her to be me tonight?"

He still doesn't look at you as he gets on his knees and pulls your shorts down. "No."

You roll your eyes against your will as Jake sucks on your clit without warning, your hand immediately tugging on the boy's hair, having his face nuzzle closer.

"Don't lie to me—fuck—You and I both know why we're constantly in the same place," A moan slips out, and you can feel the ghost of the boy's smirk on you. You don't say anything else, too out of it to tell him to stop.

You don't have to tell Jake because he knows. Jake knows your body more than anything. Knows your games and the way your mind works.

Jake doesn’t respond and does exactly what he never thought of doing. He adjusts his position, swings your leg over his shoulder, and raises his hand enough to collide with your cunt, where the pain immediately warms up to your pleasure. The slap resonates within the room and it earns him a gasp.

"Watch your mouth, baby," You writhe against the firm grip that Jake has on your hips. "You don't want everything to be ruined now, do you? That's what you always say to me."

"What kind of game are you playing?"

Jake doesn't reply and dives back in between your legs, this time much rougher than earlier, sucking on your clit while his only other thought was how the girl who asked him to come must be trying to look for him now, and he knows exactly how long it will take her to search every room until she finds her own and sees you completely at his mercy. This was the kind of game he knew you would play if your places were switched, if he had a girlfriend that wasn't you.

"I always want to fuck you, Jake. If that's what's getting you worked up. And I have been for two years," You manage as you feel him insert two digits inside you. "What else would you want?"

Jake can tell he's got you all to himself by the way you gasp to fight back another moan that's threatening to spill from your lips, by the way you sink your chipped manicures into his scalp as he draws whimpers and whines out of you, never stopping as he leads you to your orgasm.

Your voice mocks him. Teasing, challenging, driving him insane. "You. I love you," Jake lets out.

You hear it as, "Let's put that pretty mouth of yours to good use. Get on your knees, baby."

ix.

It's May.

You don't have a boyfriend.

Jake only knows this upon eavesdropping on your conversation with one of your previous special friends , Choi Yeonjun. The guy's rash, definitely more of your speed, and much cooler than him if he wants to be honest. He doesn't know the full story, sort of just finds out about it by himself, but basically, you two have hooked up for a few months, until Yeonjun realised he was falling for someone and broke off the affair. And five months later, Jake had just moved into town.

A cute story, he guesses, or whatever. But it makes Jake feel twisted, remembering that you've been with other guys, have called other guys baby , and have kissed them where you've kissed him. It's practically the same with everyone.

He wonders, though. Wonders if he's the first guy you have managed to keep around. Wonders if you fuck anyone else behind his back, other than your boyfriend. Wonders if you have ever had a boyfriend during your affairs with other people, or if you were just plainly into fucking him over specifically.

But he's right behind the school building, supposedly here to pick you up, the pungent smell of smoke gravitating under his nose and whirls of curses means that you have company.

The crackle of the cancer stick is faint but it doesn't drown your husky tone when you say: "Shit's stressful."

Yeonjun snorts, backing against his shiny motorcycle. "Trouble in paradise, lover girl?"

"Now, why say it like that. You make me gag."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Whatever," You stand before the flagpole, left hand tucked away in your (Jake's) denim jacket's pocket, dominant hand flicking ashes onto the ground. "But yeah, there's something of the sort."

Yeonjun's eyes sparkle with obvious mischief. "Do tell, LN YN."

You roll your eyes. "Broke up with him. Found out some whore was leeching off of him. Felt like the right thing to do."

Jake doesn't mean to intrude, and he hadn't meant to stay either. He didn't know you broke up with Heeseung, but then again you never really tell him about anything related to that. He hasn't spoken to the older boy in weeks either. But he hears his name in between and now he's all too interested to hear what you have to say about him when he isn't around.

"Wait, what?" Yeonjun interrupts. "I thought you were going to tell me about Jake."

"What about Jaeyun?"

"So we're on a first-personal-name basis with the secret lover now? You weren't like this with me, YN," All out of it, Yeonjun stomps the cigarette with his boot, aggressively digging its grave.

"Oh, shut up," You laugh incredulously. "Where did you even get that idea from?"

"You're so," Yeonjun trails off. "Here's a little bit of spice—do you like him or something? Is the LN YN finally retiring from her cock parade?"

You scoff. "Idiot."

Yeojun ignores your comment. "Do you?"

You don't answer. The ego lies in your throat like the suspense of a bullet in Russian roulette, steadily pulling the trigger. Jake breathes, never letting go.

Say it.

Then it strikes him sharply, tearing the barriers of his heart apart. "I don't. He's just someone."

Yeonjun stares, his pierced eyebrow raised. "A friend?"

Of course.

"No," You say quickly. "I mean, yes. But no."

"You're whistling in the wind here. What is he to you exactly?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Jake doesn’t get why you have to ponder on it so much. You usually just say you're friends and move on.

"He's a friend that I fuck whenever I feel like it,"

"Meaning," Yeonjun is looking at you like you have all the answers to solve every problem there is in the world, waiting for you to unfold them.

"Friends with benefits, are you slow?"

"Fuck off."

You shrug, toying with the grey lighter in your hands, lighting it every fifteen (Yes, fifteen. It's been your favourite number recently.) seconds and burning its flame into the rusting steel behind you.

"YN," Yeonjun starts again.

"What," You look up at him, clearly done with the topic.

"Reality check right now," Yeonjun pressed. "You have feelings for him and you have no idea how to tell him, so you keep stringing him around at a distance enough for you to control it."

You take a puff, taking in the kill. "Don't be delusional." You exhale.

"Delusional because I'm right, aren't I?"

"Just drop it already." You snap.

Yeonjun raises his hands defensively, nodding his head as if to say he's letting the topic go. It's quiet again.

Jake tries to figure out if you've been quiet like this before, stuck driving in circles and telling people to get out of your car, sending them home crying. Or if he had been the first for everything. Maybe this whole time he'd been the one complicating things.

You seem to put yourself in similar situations, Jake notes.

Jake decides he's heard enough. It's enough and it's all he ever hears anyway. He's a friend . You're friends. This is always how it goes with you, despite everything.

You with your dumb (pretty) hair colour, cold dark eyes, rocking your (his) dumb signature denim jacket with your dumb cherry flavoured lipgloss that makes him weak, you who parades around town with guys fawning over you, you who gives them little to no attention at all, and you who picks one of the lucky ones to be your conquests before screwing them over.

You are selfish and you never try.

Jake chases down with your hair flowing against his cheeks to kiss away what dried wetness remains, and eventually crashes alongside you after you get off of him, breathless.

It's June.

The euphoria, however, is short-lived, and you eventually stand and rush awkwardly to pick up your clothes, and get dressed. “You wanted me to go rougher than usual, are you okay?” Jake calls. He knows, he knows that you know. He hopes at least.

“Everything's great,” You say, shimmying into your shorts. “I need to get home, though. It's my turn to cook tonight. My dad isn't home again.”

Jake reaches for a kiss and you don't pull away. He keeps on kissing you, his wet mouth chasing the corner of where your lips would flick upwards into a smile that he's fallen for.

Jake pulls away frowning, sliding your bra strap up your shoulder, and helping you put on your (his) hoodie. He says, "I love you, I'm sorry. He wasn't worth it. I'm sorry that you had to take the things you love and tear them apart, or pin them down with your body and pretend that they're yours forever."

And you haven't moved, you're frozen, and Jake's kissed you, and he knows you'll never forgive him for showing you such vulnerability, for getting past all your thorns, and maybe now, you will leave him alone.

To everyone else, most importantly to you, it comes out as, "Good night, YN. Get home safe."

xi.

It's July, and Jake kisses Jiyoon for the first time.

It's unplanned, really. He hadn't meant to but it was a spur in the moment with the picture of your smile and mischievous dark eyes in his head. He's always thinking of you.

But you haven't called or texted since that night and he's scared he might've done so much.

He does, however, kiss her. It happens because things are easy with Jiyoon. It's easy to laugh. It's easy to be happy. It took him a long time to get there, but he tried, tried, and tried.

So, to cut a long tale short, he wants to forget the fact that he messed it up with you and decides that this girl sitting next to him would be the perfect person to start over with.

Jake promises himself that it will be simple, uncomplicated. Everything is simple with Jiyoon. He's nervous (not because he likes her—he doesn't—at least, not like that. Which he feels guilty about since he started seeing similarities with you but whatever.). When she turns to him, he's drumming up the courage to reach over the seat and kiss her (like he would with you.).

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jiyoon ponders, her fingers sluggishly tapping the steering wheel, her brows pinched together in worry. Her eyes are dark, alluring, familiar, Jake thinks. Just pretend they're YN's and fucking kiss her, you idiot.

Jake moves in a little closer, trying to latch onto the belief that he can see those familiar hues in Jiyoon's eyes. He licks his lips, recalls the moments with you, and inhales slowly.

"Jake?" Jiyoon asks, perplexed and befuddled, as Jake places his hand on the head of her seat and moves perilously close. "What are you doing?"

And it's there. He takes control with a forced smile pressed against her mouth, snaking his hand around her neck and pulling her close.

Her eyes are closed when he flutters his open and he sees it. Out through the foggy window, he sees you. Your figure fades away when Jiyoon pulls away, and he realises he's stopped kissing her.

"You're a good kisser, Jake."

He pulls away with regret, reality hitting him, and feeling his skin flush. "I'm sorry, I can't—,"

Jake wishes he could go back in time and undo the previous twenty seconds of his life the minute his heart leaps into his throat and he sees the comfortable colour of blue.

"This was a mistake, I'm sorry."

He grabs his phone on the dashboard, unlocks the door, gets out and heads home.

xii.

It's August.

It's dark out, and Jake is in your room.

You called him over.

There's fire in just the right places, in your touch cautious on his ribcage, in your mouth asking sweetly on Jake's, in the tepid cooling fins from the vents, turned to just the right power.

You don't have sex with him. Jake softly kisses you on the mouth. It's not your birthday. It's the month you and him met at Heeseung's party. It's not even an occasion to be celebrated. (Unless, you're fucking cheesy then sure.). It's not what people do unless they're in a relationship, but with you, he's found that there are a lot of things a person could do with no strings attached.

You take a step back, partially to catch your breath and half to check the time. The digits are slightly obscured by Jake's fluffy head of hair, but they're still: 12:17 AM.

"It's that night," Jake whispers.

You kiss Jake's cheek, jaw, and bottom lip with your lip glossed, kiss-mouthed smile. "Yeah, it is." You untangle yourself from Jake carefully, as if you have all the time in the world.

You have a lot of things. A lot of secrets, unsaid promises, sacred thoughts he knew that could kill you inside. Jake thinks about this a lot.

"Do you think we still would've met if it weren't for that party?" You wonder aloud, sliding under your covers.

Jake leans his cheek against the head of the bed, cold steel scarring his skin, face turning to you. He's in deep thought as he drums his fingers on the grey pillows.

"Maybe," He finally makes up his mind, a goofy smile on his face. "I actually have a secret."

"Sounds interesting." You say, smiling. You move to your nightstand to tug on the switch of your night lamp open awkwardly as the last street light outside your window goes off, so as to not pull your left hand away from Jake.

"Leaving me again? This is your house, you know." He jokes.

"Shut up. I need the light," You curl back into the position you were in a few minutes prior, sliding under the duvet next to the boy. "I can't see your face."

Jake chews his lower lip and suppresses a grin. Adoration. It's crystal clear from him.

"Would you want me to know?" You ask. Jake's heart pounds, the last summer rain falls, you soothe him with circles from your thumb.

"I think so," Jake says. You kiss him on the mouth, pure and warm, encouraging him.

And Jake loves you. Nevertheless, since, until.

"I love you." Jake says.

You smile.

It doesn't sound like anything else.

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