#jaeyun ff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartandfangs · 2 years

Text

LEATHER & PLAID.

GENRE Roommates AU, Sub!Jake, Dom!Reader, Heavy Smut, One-shot

PAIRING f!Reader x Jake/Jaeyun

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY, BDSM, Cursing, Relationship insecurities, Light nipple play, Teasing, Edging, Bondage, Handjob, Pegging, Sex toys, Light degradation, Light choking, Crying, Aftercare, m!Receiving, Established relationship

WORD COUNT 3.8k

SUMMARY Jake– your ever mischievous, needy other half– quickly pulls you past the threshold you’ve yet to cross in your shared world of intimacy and hands over the tools you need to take him under. It's a world neither of you is entirely familiar with, but Jake is more than willing to step off the edge and fall into the abyss, so long as you're there to meet him at the end of it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE Well, it's about time I write a sub Jake fic. ✨ I hope you enjoy it, I know some of you out there will appreciate it!

I'm over the moon that it's the weekend AND THAT THE BOYS ARE FINALLY COMING BACK 🫠 The concepts look insane, and I'm still processing those crazy ass photos. They're all gorgeous and Jaeyun looks like an absolute doll 🙂🤚 The attack is RELENTLESS. I'M LITERALLY TEARING UP.

Also, I'm thinking of making this fic part of a sub series for the hyung line, so I’m gauging interest in it from you all since IOU is ongoing. I wanted to also say thank you for all the new followers and messages, I've been busy but I'm going through them today! As always, like/reblog this fic and leave me some feedback if you enjoyed it. 🖤⚰️

TAGLIST @skzenhalove, @axartia, @stbwe, @duolingofanaccount, @writingmochi, @thejjrl

Masterlist

Keep yourself hard for me by the time I come back– but don't you dare come.

The last text Jake received from you was from ten minutes ago, presumably before you started driving back home from work to where he desperately awaited you.

With one hand pumping his angry red cock, and the other hand shoved up his plaid shirt, toying with his nipples, Jake prayed you'd reach him in time.

It felt like for the past weeks– not that you noticed– he'd been suppressing the symptoms of his deep ache for you. It was the kind of ache that spread to every nerve of his body, consuming his thoughts and spurring him to take such daring risks.

So sue him for breaking down and sending you those clips of him during your work hours. They did their job, although he figured you'd be angry since they hampered your ability to do yours.

Jake would argue that it was for neglecting him the entire week, and maybe even the week before… but even if you hadn't, he probably would've pulled that same shit anyway.

Which one made you snap? The audio clip of him explicitly describing how he was beating his cock while smothering himself with the scent of your sheets? Or maybe the video of him slipping the diamond plug from his hole that he'd nestled into himself earlier, seeing him all pink and puckered, clenching around nothing?

Whichever it might've been, Jake was more than willing to risk it all, anticipating his tortuous release at your hands.

It had to be by you– only you.

The click of the apartment door being opened and the harsh clacking of your heels echoing off the walls had Jake thrumming with excitement. Your arrival was a record time, and he was beyond relieved you made it home safe, but he felt a bit guilty about it being at the expense of your safety. He would have to make up for the weight on his conscience, amongst other things.

Jake hiked his plaid shirt over the planes of his flushed chest and pushed back his dark bangs from his eyes, hoping to look as enticing as possible when you walked through that bedroom door.

Just as the door swung open, a shaky moan slipped from his mouth while he canted his hips up in the air. He was teasing his thumb over his slit, back and forth in the most delicious manner, the damp skin of his stomach illuminated by the warm lighting of your bedside lamp.

Somehow, seeing you dressed in your elegant noir suit accented with gold plated jewelry– eyes sharp with liner, glaring down at him– intimidated him in ways he hadn't expected. Everything about your attire displayed power; one day, he'd have to pay you a surprise visit at work that included taking you out to lunch and convincing you to take an extended break time with him in that fancy company lounge.

Today, he'd make you come to him.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Not only did you make me cut my work day short, but you chose my room to make a mess in?"

"I missed you," Jake dragged his veined hand up the planes of his abs then over his nipples, the other still wrapped around his length," Please, I'm so hard– couldn't wait 'till tonight."

With a shake of your head, you scrutinized him.

"I see that patience is still something we need to work on with you. You know better."

"Everyone cuts their Friday short anyways; I'll definitely make it worth your while. My cock's drooling so much for you..."

"Quit touching yourself," you warned, "Take your clothes off, then kneel on the bed."

Jake stared at you.

So you still wanted him?

"Don't make me wait."

Delighted, Jake shot up from the bed and pulled his plaid long sleeve off, discarding it onto a nearby chair; his jeans followed.

Nothing about you gave yourself away while watching him with such a stoic expression. You merely multiplied his sense of vulnerability tenfold, heart beating out of his chest as he obediently kneeled on your plush bed covers.

You crossed your arms and let him shift in discomfort under your gaze, his lean physique and arousal entirely on display for you.

"Show me what you were playing with in that video you sent me, Jake."

Blushing deeply, Jake leaned back onto his palms and spread his legs to reveal the diamond-encrusted toy plugged between his cheeks.

Intrigued, you kneeled onto the bed and reached out to trace the edges of the glistening diamond laid into black silicone.

"Huh, I didn't know you liked these sort of toys."

"It came in a set," He glanced up at you hopefully, teeth tugging on his bottom lip while your eyes widened, "And this plug vibrates if you hold down the diamond, but I haven't tried it yet because I wanted to wait to try it with you."

It irritated you to imagine Jake stuffing himself with his fingers alone each night for who knows how long just so the toy could fit properly. You gripped the edge of the toy and tugged on it slightly, curious as to how big it was.

Jake moaned softly, his cock twitching against his abdomen as his body automatically fought to keep it inside of him.

"Sorry," He tried to calm himself with several deep breaths until the plug finally popped out.

It was covered in his wetness and was in the form of a slim silicone tip; it rounded out a bit wider only to taper at the base. Its girth and length weren't as large as Jake's, but you were impressed he managed to use it on his own.

You slid it back inside of him so begrudgingly slow that Jake had to bite down a whimper. It was a little mesmerizing seeing how his hole stretched and accommodated the size.

So sexy.

You wanted to eat him up right then and there.

Licking your lips, you asked, "What else have you been hiding from me?"

Jake inclined his chin towards your feet where an inconspicuous black gift bag you failed to notice before sat. Raising a brow at him, you picked it up and set it on the bed, reaching inside to inspect the contents.

The first object you pulled out was a set of leather wrist cuffs and straps to be tethered to a bed frame; the second was thigh slings, padded on the inside and attached to a neck cushion along with straps to bind its wearer without the use of furniture.

A slight smirk graced your face at the choice, but your expression morphed into one of complete shock when you took out a lace strap-on.

It had an attractive onyx-colored dildo attached to it, not entirely phallic but rather a more streamlined sophisticated shape; it was curved and relatively slender– even pretty. Considering it would be Jake's first time, it might've been out of character for him to have gone all out on a nine-inch monster dildo instead.

So long as it was something he was comfortable with. Regardless, he sure didn't skimp on the quality of these purchases. You slid your grip along the glossy, dark surface, finding it to your taste.

"Just be honest with me if you don't want to try it," Jake blurted out, shaky eyes roving over your face, unable to endure your silence.

With one hand, you unbuttoned your blazer and shrugged it off, leaving you in a black silk camisole and impeccably pressed slacks.

"As if I'll let you off the hook for interrupting my work schedule." You took up the leather restraints and leaned over Jake, who looked both terrified and in awe– and yet, he relinquished all control to you.

Figuring out which limbs were supposed to go where came easy to you, and soon enough, you had Jake bound underneath you on his back, legs folded at the knees with the restraints supporting his bare thighs. The slings were connected to the padded cushion tucked behind his neck, and his wrists were cuffed over his head, anchored to the bed with just enough slack.

Although you didn't have first-hand experience with these toys, you had researched them in the past out of curiosity, which definitely helped. However, you were still wrapping your head around that Jake approached you about this first and not the other way around.

Checking to make sure his restraints weren't overly tight, you slipped two fingers beneath the ones at his wrist.

"Too tight, baby?"

"No, I love it," He admitted breathlessly.

Jake never looked more delectable to you at that moment.

"Listen closely, I have some rules to lay down," Jake nodded eagerly for you to continue, "I'm not allowing you to come until I say so. I'm going to tease you, edge you– and maybe fuck you if you're good. But you need to earn it, and I'm the only one who determines whether or not you have."

You tipped Jake's chin up towards you, "Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, sounding almost in a trance.

"Good," You nodded and sat back to admire your handiwork and his gorgeous body.

During the whole process, Jake had only grown more aroused at your slight rough handling, panting and twitching non-stop at your touches. Little did you realize that he was taking you in with complete adoration the entire time.

Jake was spread so prettily for you; his pre-cum dribbled from his tip down his swollen balls, spilling over the diamond plug onto your sheets. The deep flush in his cheeks spread across his skin in an all-consuming heat. He was even perspiring beneath his bangs, and you hadn't even started.

"I think you need a safeword, Jaeyun."

"Plaid," he replied immediately, as though he were just waiting for you to ask.

Of course.

You regarded Jake fondly while running the tips of your nails up the underside of his cock, making him mewl.

"Let's play."

Undoing your lover was always a pleasure to undertake.

"Oh Jaeyun," you drawled, sweetly twisting the soaked tip of his cock and then letting go just in time for his hips to desperately chase your touch– just to receive no reprieve. It was a sick cycle he'd been enduring for the past half hour. "I didn't think you could get any wetter."

You watched Jake's brows furrow, how he dropped his head back against your mattress in frustration, but his moans were all too telling of the immense pleasure he was experiencing.

"Please, ___, keep rubbing my cock," Jake whined.

You were still dressed from head to toe, and he should've felt mortified at being utterly nude in such a compromising situation, but he wasn't. He loved every bit of your attention and lived for it— he wasn't sure how he survived on days without you nearby.

But at this very moment, having you next to him didn't feel like enough. He wanted to be intoxicated by you and completely filled to the brim, unsure of where your body started and where his ended, breathing you in, feeling you, tasting you.

Did you feel the same at all?

Now, as you smugly traced the veins along his pulsing cock when all he wanted was for you to fist him until he was spent in every sense of the word.

"Think you've earned it already?"

"Yes— please!"

Admittedly, Jake had been a trooper up 'till now, but it was clear his endurance was dwindling, so you decided to turn things up a notch. Your thumb found the diamond button of the plug between his legs, and you held it down until it came alive inside him with a deep buzz.

"Fuuuck! Oh my god," Jake slurred, eyes fluttering.

You scratched down the dips of his pelvis teasingly, only to take his balls into your hand and knead them thoroughly, "That feels good, huh, baby boy?"

"Yes, yes— fuck, it feels like my insides are melting! Wait—"

You swiftly pulled the plug out of him, and he jerked harshly against his restraints with a groan, the luxurious straps digging into his beautiful tan skin.

"I want to play with you next time, Jaeyun. Don't hide these things from me anymore. Don't be shy to tell me what you want when you want it, when it's the right time, of course. Timing is everything, baby–", You gave a sharp slap to his balls, causing him to yelp, "– As I'm sure you're coming to understand."

"Yes, I do," He choked out as you swiped his damp hair from his forehead.

"We'll see about that."

Jake watched you slide your middle and ring finger past your lips to soak them with saliva, then press them past his tight ring of muscle. His toes curled at the welcome intrusion of your fingers, pleas devolving into lovely, incoherent noises. He was wonderfully tight, but you imagined he'd be even tighter if he hadn't prepared himself with that plug.

"Good, Jaeyun. Let me in," You urged when he tensed while you added a third finger to rub against his warm, plush insides. Leaning over his muscular torso, you caught his nipple between your teeth and gave it a light tug.

Jake bucked his hips against your stomach in a panic, his insides clenching around your fingers, wrists straining against the handcuffs. "Ahhh, fuck, I can't. I can't—"

"Shhh," You hushed, swiping your tongue over his abused nipple, the pads of your fingers searching against his walls for that sweet spot, "You can do it, baby; control yourself."

How the hell was Jake supposed to hold on when you were knuckle deep inside of him, torturing his nipples?

Every little thing you bestowed on him made him feel like he was in a dream, a pure fantasy that only someone of his depraved nature could've thought up. But he fought to meter his reactions the best he could because here you were, playing this game, indulging the darkest parts of himself.

Jake was tested when you curled your fingers against his sensitive prostate, and every nerve in his body lit up, making him feel like he was about to lose it all.

That was until you mercilessly gripped the base of his dick and kept him from coming— to his utter dismay.

He was left with no choice but to writhe beneath you, long-awaited pleasure slipping from his grasp like sand when you removed your fingers from his body and stepped away.

"No, no, no! Don't stop— ___, fuck me," he begged.

The emptiness you left Jake with was distressing; at this point, he wanted some part of you moving inside him, your tongue, your fingers– Anything, anything, anything.

"Learn to display some patience, or I just might leave you there tied up for the rest of the night."

Jake made pathetic noises of opposition in response.

Feeling your arousal soak through your trousers, you stripped out of your clothes and heels before stepping into the lace harness. Your pussy was sensitive and swollen to the touch; the mere brush of the lace and ribbon against your throbbing mound made you want to rut your hips against Jake's until you came.

The strap-on was definitely a foreign feeling you'd have to adjust to, but just the fact that Jake wanted you like this gave you enough confidence to face him. You fixed it around your hips and thighs efficiently, tying it in a secure bow below your waist. After, you snatched a bottle of water-based lube from your bedside drawer, spreading copious amounts of liquid along your length.

You caught Jake rolling his hips out of the corner of your eye, presumably trying to get some relief just by bouncing his cock against his abdomen.

"If you could see how silly you look right now, you'd be taking your sweet time to fuck yourself too. Behave, or else."

Even though Jake shied from you in shame, his pink cock twitched at your reprimand. He settled down momentarily, his chest heaving and glistening with sweat.

"... I'll literally do anything for you to fuck me right now, ___. Please, fill me up, put me out of my misery."

"Do as I say, and you'll get what you want."

"I swear I will—"

Upon taking hold of his jaw, you gently captured his plump lips– a slow tug here, a lick there– slipping your tongue against his taste buds. Jake moaned sweetly against your soft lips, returning your possessive kiss, jerking as he felt you press your slick cock between his ass.

Once you lined yourself up with his entrance, you eased in at an angle that slowly drew the air from Jake's lungs. With your hips flush against him, you filled him perfectly— before pistoning into him at a merciless pace.

Jake's moans pitched with each thrust, his dark eyes dilated and hazy due to the rough sensation of you inside him. His fingers dug into his palms, the handcuffs and thigh restraints keeping him in place as you had your way with him.

If he weren't under already, he definitely was now.

"Does it feel good, baby? Can you feel how deep I am inside you?" You punctuated with a sharp thrust to his prostate. Unable to form words, Jake's tongue merely lolled past his lips.

You reached deeper than your fingers had and felt much sweeter than any vibrations.

Jake began to arch his back, chest pressing up into the air. You gripped more of the flesh beneath his thighs, moaning at the way you could feel his insides tug on the dildo when you pulled out, just to slam right back in.

Although it was tricky maneuvering the strap-on since it wasn't part of your actual body, there was something in the switch of dynamics that aroused you mentally. Whatever it was, Jake clearly loved it as well, unable to get enough of it— or rather you.

"Your slutty little ploy worked, Jaeyun. I'm fucking the living daylights out of you, and your cock is a mess because of it."

Jake couldn't hide from the truth; the man was at your mercy in every sense. All he was meant for at that moment was to take everything you'd give him, using all of his senses and faculties— from salivating at how your tits bounced with every sharp slam of your hips to how your soft, elegant fingers slid through his own, pressing him deep into the cushions.

The scent of his favorite perfume of yours made him go insane while your intense gaze pinned him in place, reminding him that he was yours in more ways than one.

It was just you and him.

"Ah!"

Jake shuddered violently when you slammed all the way in and stayed still for a second before sweetly rolling your hips in a deep, circular rhythm.

Fuck.

Making his eyes roll back into his head, you hit the same spot that set his whole body alight earlier, the tip of your length rubbing on it repeatedly. Jake could hardly tell what was happening when heat rushed to his face, heart racing like crazy. He clenched continuously around your cock, not wanting to let you go.

"Haah—" Jake began to shake his head. "C-can't– I can't!"

"On the count of five," Your tone left no room for disagreement, your thrusts turning quick and shallow, "Five."

Oh my god.

Each second you counted out loud was excruciating.

"Four."

Jake struggled to keep his orgasm at bay, willing every nerve and muscle in his body to hold back.

"Three."

His lips parted wide in pleasure while strands of pre-cum dribbled from his length onto his stomach.

"Two."

His vision of you above him suddenly became clear; you appeared wholly absorbed in watching his every move with deadly intent. Blood surged to his cock– You always looked so hot when focused.

So fucking beautiful.

He held his breath, feeling like he was about to explode when you sneaked your hand across his skin to squeeze around his throat slowly.

"One– come."

Then his vision blurred completely, everything going completely dark. His insides pulsed– once, twice– his balls tightening so tight... and then he finally released it all with a slew of broken sobs. Several ropes of cum shot from his veiny cock before it began to ooze thickly down your blurring hand, seemingly never-ending.

He wailed your name, voice gravelly and desperate. You were stunned at the tears that spilled from the corners of his shut eyes. Automatically, your thumb swiped them away.

"That's it, Jaeyun. I'm right here; I've got you."

How his hole spasmed and his nipples drew to a peak enraptured you. Jake was gone and for longer than he usually was when orgasming. One could only wonder if it was all due to the combination of being penetrated and physically subdued by you.

Aftershocks wracked his body for several minutes, and you comforted him through it all.

"My messy baby boy," Jake shook as your fingers spread his creamy release across his abdomen and sighed warmly when you planted kisses on his damp cheek. "You did so well for me; you held out till the end, and I loved how you were so obedient. Such a good boy for me."

You quickly released him from his restraints, gently resting his arms and legs onto the bed, caressing his indented skin. Jake fussed when you left him to retrieve wet washcloths from the restroom, calling you back to him.

"I'm here," you returned and reassured him while cleansing his limp body with the warm cloth. When you finished, you stepped out of the harness and wiped yourself down with a clean cloth before retrieving an ice-cold water bottle from your mini-fridge.

"How do you feel? Drink," You urged, slowly sitting him up and tipping the water bottle towards his lips. He took several sips, his half-lidded eyes trained on you all the while.

Somehow, Jake looked simultaneously drained yet alive, a gleam reappearing in his eyes if that were possible.

"That was insane. I loved it so much. Thank you, baby," Jake tossed the bottle somewhere behind him on the sheets and pulled you against him by your waist. He was still blown out of his mind that you did this all for him, overwhelmed by your devotion. "You fucked me so good," he whispered hotly into your neck.

You tipped your head back, baring your neck to give Jake more access. His lips moved fervently across your skin, tongue lapping at every spot he marked with a kiss. He captured your lips once more, eagerly conveying his immense gratitude for you.

"I hope you learned your lesson—" A moan spilled from your throat when his hand traveled down between your dripping thighs.

"I did," The corners of Jake's mouth turned upwards, his thick fingers delving through your wetness, "You think I can earn some extra credit?"

910 notes · View notes

boyfhee · 1 year

Text

CHANCES AT ROMANCE : jake sim

w. some guy passing comments ; 1.27k

note. i might write more parts and make this jake au thing idk PS IM SORRY IF THIS SUCKS i forgot how to write help

“so, you come here often?” is not the question you expected you hear on a nice monday morning, especially in a voice that belongs to the person you’ve been avoiding actively for five days now.

“sometimes,” it’s a short response, words that left your mouth unwillingly to save yourself from giving other’s ideas that you’re being rude, or more accurately, in hopes that he would leave once you’ve answered all your questions.

“guess i have to pay attention now,” he chuckles with a menacing tone, shifting the madrid bar stool he has been sitting on a little closer to yours, arms almost brushing against yours. “don’t want to miss on such a beautiful sight,”

and, jake has been observing the scene for a while now.

step by step, his hands busy with preparing the drink while his eyes were fixed upon you or rather, the uninvited stranger sitting next to you, who has been making you uncomfortable since the minute you arrived in the cafe. and, jake can think of two options.

one, to call the manager, report him on this inappropriate incident and have the guy thrown out as he should, and second, to go out and rescue you himself. his neurons are signalling towards the first choice, telling him to take out his phone and ring the manager because any other sane person would do the same, in order to solve the situation without creating a scene. his mind is diverting towards the first option but his heart is telling him to go with the other, because it’s you, the one who sits two rows in front of him in english lessons, the one who once paid for his lunch because his card kept declining, the one who has been on his mind ever since the day you first came to the cafe.

“by the way,” jake’s attention goes back to you and the guy next to you. “we share theology,” and his fists clench at the sight of him trying to wrap his arms around you, making you visibly uncomfortable, so much that anyone out there would notice.

“i don’t think so,” you reply, shifting away from him.

“of course you don’t, you sit in the front so you wouldn’t know who sits at the back of the class,” and he sounds a little annoyed, maybe it’s because you keep avoiding him, answering in phrases instead of indulging into the conversation as much as him. jake watches you press your lips into a thin line. he doesn’t care that he’s taking too much time to prepare your order. “but i watch you everyday,”

you push him away, or try to, a slight push that seems to irritate him even more. “uh, you’re too close,”

“c’mon, you—”

“i’d appreciate it if you don’t get too close to my girlfriend,” and jake doesn’t care if he even gets to make anyone’s order because at this point, getting the guy out of the cafe is his first priority. god, if only he would punch that asshole’s face, he would.

“girlfriend?” the annoyance in his voice intoxicates every word that leaves his mouth, a sharp gaze as if they would cut right through everyone present in the room; jake could only laugh at the audacity he has. “hey, is he your boyfriend?”

“why, do you not believe me?” jake rests his hand upon your shoulder, a gesture that translates the words he has been meaning to say, an action that tells you that you are safe, and you’ll be fine, because jake can handle the situation, and so, you relax under his touch, texting your friend to come pick you up from the cafe. “you can hear it from her if it’ll help you sleep better at night,”

“you should’ve told me you had a boyfriend,” the guy stands up, half embarrassed, half in rage, and jake might even get in a fight with him by the end of the day judging from the looks he’s giving the boy standing behind you. you sit there frozen, afraid that things would escalate to something much bigger, but jake’s grip fastens around your shoulder and yet still ever so gentle that maybe, it’s the reason why you feel at ease as every second passes.

“i told you to leave me alone. boyfriend or not, no means no,” you speak up, hoping what happened today won’t repeat itself. “and yes, he is my boyfriend,” hoping that he wouldn’t show up in front of you now that you’re calling him your boyfriend and playing right into his games.

and jake doesn’t waste another minute with your order, immediately getting back to his job while making sure to tend back to you once again. it would be a lie to say you haven’t been coming to the cafe for him, though it wouldn’t be a complete truth either. a part of the reason was the menu that suits your exact taste, and another part would be jake, who fits your taste in men as well, to put it simply.

you met jake at orientation lecture before your classes started officially. well, you saw him sitting in front of you with his friends, not that you know their names but you think you will once you get closer to jake. the second time you saw jake was in your english lecture and it felt as if suddenly, you were at the line between staying afloat and drowning in your ocean-deep thoughts. although jake sat behind you, you could feel yourself getting conscious about everything you did to not come off as someone weird and crazy, and you almost had your chances at asking him to come to a science museum with you before the whole ordeal with your so-called ‘admirer’ happened.

having him as your fake boyfriend on a nice monday morning is not what you expected, but it’s not an all-bad start after all.

“i’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” he walks back to the counter, standing in front of you with your order in his hands while proceeding to handle the receipt and other formalities, and it would make him really embarrassed if you got even a slight idea that he’s doing meaningless things just to buy more time with you.

“thank you,” you mutter.

he puts his hands on the table, leaning over it before looking right into your eyes, and it’s surprising how you weren’t aware that his looks were this captivating. “does that happen everyday?”

there’s a slight hint of concern in his words, as if he’s not asking the question just for the sake of it, or just to create a good impression, because if he had known, jake would’ve already pretended to be your boyfriend and make sure the situation didn’t drag you along with it for days or more. “for the past few weeks, yeah,”

“your drink,” a faint gratitude falls off your lips, eyes falling upon the receipt to see his number scribbled in his messy handwriting right above the order details. and this wasn’t how you were expecting to get his number but again, you don’t have complaints. “call me if he shows up again,”

“yeah,” your lips curl into a smile, with his’ mirroring your actions, waving you a small goodbye as you stand up, grabbing your bag and drink. you stuff the receipt in the pocket of your jacket, ready to leave with something blossoming inside of your heart, perhaps the feelings that you’ve been trying to suppress until the right time comes; and now that it’s here, maybe it’s time for you to take your chances at romance. “see you around, jake,”

#—approved.#enhypen x reader #enhypen ff #jake fanfic #jake x reader #jake sim imagines #jaeyun x reader #jake sim x reader #jake x female reader #jaeyun angst #jake ff #jaeyun ff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #sim jaeyun #sim jake #enhypen jake #enhypen fluff #jake fluff

288 notes · View notes

berryskaii · 2 years

Text

For you only

｡˚.⋆ .⸙͎. ⋆.˚｡ Pairing: Boyfriend!Jaeyun × Fem!Reader

｡˚.⋆ .⸙͎. ⋆.˚｡ Genre: Fluff, Angst!!

｡˚.⋆ .⸙͎. ⋆.˚｡ Warnings: None!

｡˚.⋆ .⸙͎. ⋆.˚｡ Author's Note: Its an angst i wrote a few months ago, made me cry a lot... Hope you will like it as well<3

Jaeyun loved you more than it would ever be possible for a human to love someone. You were his first in everything, and he wanted you to be his last too. He wanted to make you happy in every day of his life and see your smile every morning when waking up next to you. Feel your skin as he hugs or kisses you, touches your hand or draws little nothings on your bare back as the rising sunshine paints your figure beautifully, just for you to turn to him once you wake up and kiss him. He wanted you to cut his hair and he wanted to braid and wash yours, he wanted to sing for you and just hold you close, pulling you onto his lap before going back dancing. He wanted to hear your praises after every little thing he accomplished, looking at you with bright eyes like a little boy. And oh did he compliment you too. He told you how beautiful, precious, talented and smart you are in every way he could. He made you feel more loved than anyone else. He never forgot to tell you that he loves you, but he could say "I love you" in different words too. In the mornings when he left with a "Be safe on the way to work!", when he said "Watch out, the breakfast is still hot!", or when he just said "Sleep well, princess". And then if you had a nightmare, he woke you up and kissed the bad memories away. You were his everything. After long days at work, when he got home all stressed out, when he thought he could yell a mountain away by a few inches, he saw you in your pjs eating some chocolate while watching tv. He snuggled up by your side, hiding his face in your neck, tickling you with his nose while you covered his bare feet with the blanket and fed him with some chocolate so he was warm and comfy. You were head over heels for him, in every meaning. And he loved you, everything about you, as simply as that. He never wanted to lose you.

Then he found out he was going to die. He already felt like dying inside when he thought about leaving you alone. He broke. At first he didnt tell you. He wanted to sort out some things in himself first, even tho he already knew what he was going to do. He just needed to get ready for it. For losing you.

He started to act differently, and you noticed that. Of course you did. He wouldnt ask you for a walk outside anymore, wouldnt tell you how you looked pretty, wouldnt cook food anymore, wouldnt want to get intimate with you anymore. Even when you tried to kiss him, he would turn away coldly. He didnt talk to you, only when you asked. You had to ask him out about this.

"Do you have difficulties at work, babe? Is it tough?" you stood behind him and started massaging his shoulder as he was reading some papers to distract himself. He felt so weak. He couldnt not tell you when you cornered him like this. He was craving for your touches but he knew it was the best if he refused them. Refused you.

"Everything is cool" he said shortly. You were startled. You pursed your lips and dropped your arms in disappointment.

"Then... Tell me honestly. Do you have someone else?" He felt like a zombie. He knew he should lie to you and let you fell out of love with him, let you hate him because that was easier for both of you. But he just couldnt say that he cheated on you.

"No" he cut it short.

"So you just... Dont love me anymore? Is there something wrong with me?" He was so close to telling you about how wrong you are and how perfect you are. He fell into silence.

"Baby, please talk to me. You know, communicating. I dont even know whats up with you anymore, you are the one who always insists on talking things out and here you are not even talking to me for the past week. I had so many ideas about how your work must be overwhelming you, and i somewhat even thought about you liking someone else. But if its with me, then lets just talk it out. Did i hurt you or say something bad? Or i just dont look attractive? Am i too clingy? We can come up with a solution, baby" you reassured him. He teared up a bit.

"I dont want to talk about anything" he sighed, head hanging down.

You licked your lips. "Then what do you want me to do?" you asked silently, not waiting for his answer, taking your coat, bag and keys and left the house pissed.

He felt so lifeless. He wanted to ramble and kick and hit everything. He wanted to ruin everything around him. But he felt like it has all came to an end. As he looked around in the silence, he didnt feel like he belonged here. He thought about you living in here alone, and he couldnt even imagine himself with you. The realization snapped in him - he doesnt belong to you anymore. So, instead, he just took out a small picture of you two together from the frame on the table: it was his favorite picture. He loved that day - it was your 4th anniversary, and you spent it on a picnic. You two went for a walk in the forest on a sunny day. He loved how you prepared that extremely big picnic basket, filled it up with all the goodies, even made heart-shaped tiny nutella sandwiches. You looked so pretty in your sweet pale-blue dress. He loved the way you accidentally blinked on the picture and your face looked so funny. And till this very day you still got grumpy whenever you looked at that picture because you wanted to look prettier, but little did you know that you were the most beautiful human for him, even if you made a funny grimace. He will remember you like this. He will keep you close like this.

He shoved the small picture in his pocket, took his keys and some necessary things he needed. Then, after a last glance at the empty, silent, gloomy living room, he locked the door for the last time in his short life. He disappeared and erased himself from your life as best as he could. You never saw him again, even though you were searching for him. You cried for a hundred nights and had nightmares for a hundred more, thinking he will open the door and hug you, but you never knew he died. And you never knew that on his last breath, he was holding your picture close to his chest, your name falling from his lips before the last beat of his heart, which always had been beating for you only.

Please dont steal/publish/edit/translate my work in any form.

#to1 #to1 jaeyun #jaeyun #lee jaeyun #jaeyun ff #jaeyun fanfic #jaeyun angst #jaeyun fluff

14 notes · View notes

luvyeni · 5 months

Text

❛NO NUT NOVEMBER❜ ( s. jake )

p. sim jaeyun x fem!reader w. 2.5k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, name calling, dry humping, name calling

— 𖦹 ( making jakes life a living after he challenges himself with his friends in no nut november ) !

OCTOBER 31, 2023 — THE NIGHT BEFORE !

“What would do if you had to give up sex for a month?” Heeseung asked, “Could you do it?” Jay scoffed at the question. “You’re asking Jake of all people.” Jake smirked shamelessly — “Me? I could definitely do it, but my girl? No she would kill me if I didn’t give her what she wants.”

And he wasn’t wrong, you and jake were known as the couple who was still in their honeymoon phase — couldn’t keep your hands off each other. “Don’t blame just yn, you both are two nymphomaniac, neither of you could do it.” Sunghoon said. “You wanna bet?”

“You guys want to make this a competition?” Heeseung said. “Who ever wins, the losers have to all pitch in and buys the winner the newest game system.” Jake eyes widened, he couldn’t past this up — but you were gonna kill him, you weren’t gonna be happy. “Fine I can’t wait to get a new game.” Heeseung said, jake scoffed. “Please you’re gonna be jerking off by 1 o’clock.” He stood up.

“Where are you going jake?” Jay said, he checked the time, 8 o’clock. “Where do you think I still have 4 hours, i’m going home to fuck my girl then beg for her not to kill me.”

“Fuck!” You screamed as jake slammed into your sopping cunt, your ankle digging into his back. “Jake i’m cumming!” You moaned, “I’m cumming!” He grunted, fucking into you, soon his warm load was spilling into your cunt. “Fuck baby you feel so good.” He sighed, slipping out of you. “Fuck baby I love your pussy so much.”

He got up to get a rag to clean you off — leaving you to ponder, this sex felt different, like it felt like the sex you’d have have when he was sorry for something. You watched him clean you up, helping you into a pair of his underwear along with his shirt. “What did you do?” Sat up.

He laid down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. “Well you what No Nut November is right?” Of course you weren’t stupid, you just didn’t think your boyfriend was stupid enough to do something like that — but the look on his face made you think other wise.

“Jake no.” You whined, “i’m sorry baby.” He said. “Why would you even agree to do something like that?” You tried to make sense of it. “A new game system.” He said, you stared blankly at him. “I’ll go buy you the game system now, go get my computer.” You said, he laughed. “No baby, you know I can’t allow you to do that, only I spend money in this relationship.”

“It’s just a month, I swear — besides I can still make you cum in other ways.” All though you love his fingers and his plumps lips — his cock just hit different. “Whenever you need me just need to sit that pretty ass on my face and I can give you what you want.” He smirked. “Or I can use my fingers if you like.” His hands traveled up your legs.

“Let’s go again.” He said, his cock hardening all over again. “No, i’m sleepy.” He whined, knowing you were just punishing him. “Baby please, it’s still 20 minutes left.” He said, but it fell on death ears. “Go jerk off.” You heard him huff, before you heard shuffling and him getting off the bed. “Have fun.” You smirked, you were gonna make him wish he never even thought about this stupid ass challenge.

NOVEMBER — WEEK ONE !

It had been about a week since jake basically put you on a no sex band — you both had been pretty busy with your own separate lives that week, so you were too tired to even think about sex at the end of the day.

But today you both had a day off — and you were definitely feeling needy. “Hi baby.” You walked into the living-room where jake was watching tv. He smiled as you climbed into his lap, his hands resting on your lower back. “Hey princess you okay.”

You nodded, running your hands through his hair. “Just a little bored.” You said, he completely missed what you were implying. “Yeah?” He sighed as you played with his soft locks. “You want to go out and do something?” You shook your head, he closed his eyes, you smirked at how easy your boyfriend was — you don’t even know why he chose to do this.

You began to place little kisses on his jaw, down to his neck. “Baby.” He warned, his breath shaky. “Baby, let’s calm down.” But of course you didn’t listen, jake felt his cock twitching in his jeans, he couldn’t go out like this, he had something to prove, but jesus you weren’t making it easy.

“Jakey i’m just getting myself off, you said I could use you if I needed.” You smirked, grinding down on his boner. “Y-yeah baby, but -fuck- just let me eat you then.” He groaned, but you didn’t answer, too busy trying to get yourself off.

He groaned as you rocked back and forth, your moans wrapping around his brain. “Jake!” You squealed. “Jakey i’m gonna cum.” He was fighting demons right now — trying his best not to lift you up and fuck you stupid on the couch. “Fuck i’m cumming!” You yelled, legs shaking as you came.

“Baby.” He whined, his cock was hard as a fucking rock — he was scared to even think a dirty thought cause he wasn’t sure that we wasn’t going to cum untouched. “You cannot do that, i’m not gonna make it if you’re like this.” He said. You smiled, sitting up kissing his cheek. “Just cause you did this to yourself doesn’t mean I should suffer should I?” you got off the couch.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his cock still hard. “Gonna shower, i’m all sticky and sweaty.” He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch.

You were not gonna make this easy for him at all.

NOVEMBER — WEEK TWO !

“Please.” You begged, but jake wasn’t letting up. “It’s just a shower.” You pouted, he couldn’t say no to that — but he knew you weren’t gonna just shower with him in peace. “baby I know where you’re going with this.”

“Please, just a shower, I swear.” He look into your puppy like eyes, he sighed — how was he so desperately wrapped around your fingers. “Fine, just a shower.” You nodded, grabbing his hand guiding you to your shared bedroom.

You undressed yourself — jakes eyes traveled across your body, your perky boobs on display, your plump ass on display as you turned on the water. “Come on.” He waited for you to step in before he followed, standing behind you. “Jesus princess this water is hot as hell.”

You smiled, turning around facing him, reaching up wrapping your arms around his shoulders, the water running down your body, in between your boobs — you weren’t even doing anything but his cock was already hardening, twitching against your stomach. “Shit baby, I don’t think I can be in here long, your pretty body is too distracting.”

“Why wont you just quit them?” Your hand traced up and down his abs — light grazing his cock, but it was enough to have him hissing. “it’s just a stupid game system.” You said, he groaned — he knew you’d be like this, but he fell right into your trap anyway. “It’s not just the game, it’s to prove I have self control.”

“You don’t and that’s why I love you.” You kissed his chest, he sighed. “Im so horny jakey.” You whined, he closed his eyes trying to calm down. “You want me to finger you princess?” He hoped that would calm you down, but you just whined, shaking your head. “Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, I need your cock.”

You grabbed the base of his cock. “B-baby.” He stuttered. “I need you inside me.” You prayed he’d let up and fuck you — you almost had him. “Please.”

Fuck he couldn’t, he had something to prove. “Baby im sorry.” He said, you pouted. “Just a little longer I swear.” You released his cock and he let out a groan. “You’re so mean.” You pouted, he smiled. “Don’t smile at me.” You said, folding your arms.

“You almost had me baby.” He kissed your forehead. “Now im gonna get out and let you finish your shower.” He said, stepping out wrapping his towel around his waist. “What about me, im still horny.”

“you said it yourself princess, my fingers aren’t enough anymore.” He teased, leaving the bathroom. You cursed, he won this time.

But you weren’t gonna let him win that easily…

NOVEMBER — FINAL WEEK !

“Fuck.” He groaned, looking at the numerous of photos and videos you decided to grace him with — he had to stay at his dorm this week, but that didn’t stop you from torturing him via messages. His cock was desperately trying to free itself from his jeans as he looked at a video that you sent of you rutting against his pillow.

“Fuck shes trying to kill me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “The hell is wrong with you?” Jay said. “You’ve been groaning for the past hour, someone might think we’re in here doing something.” Jake couldn’t even laugh he was that turned on.

“It’s yn, she has not been easy on me these past couple weeks.” He said, jay laughed watching his friend stress out. “Yeah, haha make fun of me, how the hell are you not going through what i’m going through?” He and jay were the last ones standing with heeseung out the second week — claiming he’d just buy the game himself, and sunghoon who found himself giving up the night of jakes birthday party, with one of your friends.

“Because i’m not a sex crazed person and I can control myself.” Jay said, jake groaned once again. “I didn’t expect her to be like this.” He said looking at the the newest photo of you, your fingers stuffed in your soaking cunt. “Are you seriously looking at nudes of your girlfriend right now while i’m talking to you?” Jay said, face full of disgust, standing up. “Jesus at least wait until I leave the room.” He said.

“i’m not giving up that easy!” He yelled, grabbing a towel, cold showers were like his best friend as of lately.

He couldn’t wait until this dumb challenge was over.

NOVEMBER 30, 2023 11:57 !

‘Fuck you, you just had to go and win.’ ‘you actually beat me, you fucking asshole.’ ‘what games do you want?’

He smiled victoriously at the text messages from his friends. He checked the time, and he was just on time — he got up, going into your shared bedroom, you were so unaware, watching the tv not paying attention to the time, like he had for the entire day.

“I won.” He said, finally gaining your attention. “Huh?” You turned to him confused. “What are you talking about?” You were laughing, but the way you had teased jake almost every day this month, you soon weren’t about to be. “I won the game, jay lasted until a few minutes ago.”

You checked the time, your heart sank — it was now midnight, December 1 — you were starting to regret doin everything you did during the month. “Jake.”

Before you could say anything else his lips were crashing into yours. He messily kissed you, trying to get his shirt over his head. Once he did that, he pulled away his lips swollen and red, both of you breathless. “I was gonna be nice princess, but you haven’t been nice to me at all this months.” He rid himself of pants, climbing on the bed. “Jake I was needy and you were ignoring me.” You pouted, trying to find a way out of it.

“Yeah, so that means act like a slut?” He slapped your thigh, pushing them open. “So desperate to get off you even humped my pillow like a bitch in heat.” You moaned out, you missed this. “Couldn’t get wait, just had to cum.” He cupped your heat. “Your pussy is soaking through your panties.”

He practically ripped your panties off. “Even through all the teasing I was gonna treat my baby like this princess she use to be, but then earlier you decided to hump my thigh like a needy whore.” He manhandled you on to your stomach, lifting your hips up, putting a pillow down for comfort. “so now i’m gonna fuck you like a needy whore.”

This is all you wanted — for the entire month this is all you wanted, was for him to fuck you stupid. “Pl-please jakey.” You moaned, he slapped your ass. “Shut the fuck up.” He pumped his cock, groaning as he pressed his tip at your entrance. “Shut up and take my fucking cock.”

He slammed into you without easing in, you let out a scream of pleasure as his cock stretched out your cunt. “Fuck your pussy is so tight.” He had to calm himself down, he was so pent up he felt like he was gonna cum if he moved. “Missed it so much.”

You wiggled your hips impatiently. “J-jake please.” You whined, he slapped your ass. “Fuck.” He pulled out, slamming back in. “So fucking impatient.” He moved his hips. “Couldn’t even wait a second.” He grunted, gripping your hips as he roughly fucked into you. “Jake.”

He let out all his pent up frustrations on your poor cunt, pushing your back down into a a deeper arch — his cock hitting a new spot, you were gripping the pillows as he plowed into you. “That’s it, take my cock slut.” He grunted.

You felt yourself about to cum, your cunt tightening around his cock. “No baby, you don’t get to cum right now, fucking hold it.” He growled, you whined. “J-jake please.” You begged, tears welding in your eyes. “I said fucking hold it slut.”

He kept going, you could no longer hold it. “Jake!” You screamed, tear streaming down your eyes. “Cum, go a ahead and cum slut.” He slapped your ass once more, you screamed cumming around his cock. “That’s it cream my cock -fuck- i’m about about to cum inside your pussy.” He grunted, thrusting a few times. “Fuck!” He came with a moan, filling your cunt up with his cum.

He gave you a few second to compose yourself, before handling you back on your back. “I’m not done baby.” He grabbed the base of his cock, positioning it at your hole that was leaking with his cum, pushing himself back into your hole. “Jake, fuck!” You screamed.

“Gonna fuck you as many times as you teased me, gonna leave your pussy sore.”

©️LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #sim jaeyun x reader #jake sim smut #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #jake x female reader #jake hard thoughts #sim jake #jake smut

4K notes · View notes

goldenhypen · 1 month

Text

. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ ｡

syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.

pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink

a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>

“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”

it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.

“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.

“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.

he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.

“better?” he smirked.

“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”

the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”

“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.

“you know why?”

“hm?”

he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”

“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”

“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.

you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”

“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.

you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.

the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.

“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.

you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.

you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.

“jake…”

he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”

“if you’re sick—”

“i’m alright. don’t worry.”

sceptical, you nodded.

later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”

you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”

“it’s so cold.”

“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”

he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”

you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”

you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”

he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”

you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”

you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”

⎯ ❤︎ ⎯

“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”

“thanks, love.”

you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.

after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.

“i love being sick,” he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.

“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.

“i like being sick.”

“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.

“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.

“i—” was all you managed to push out, speechless.

“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”

you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”

“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.

“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”

he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.

“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.

you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”

you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”

a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33

m.list · taglist

taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @sunjakes @w3bqrl @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @aeriil11 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @atrirose @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg

1K notes · View notes

hrdenha · 1 month

Text

— good guys could never | p.sh

synopsis: It's friday night, the night where people get loose after a hell ass week. As usual, there's a party at your brothers house, the same time you and park sunghoon, one of your brother's friend, have your own little party inside your room or... inside you.

pairings: older brother's friend!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT having sex while there's a party, fucking your brother's friend, bed slamming through the wall, mouth covering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), exhibition, one leg up, two leg up, dirty talk, calling names, sex against the wall (🤭), asshole sunghoon, y/n getting stars and tears in her eyes, y/n getting dumb from cock (sunghoon's cock) so she requested something 😬, this story becomes kind of dark at the last part, ngl. let me know what you think.

It's friday night, people wants to relax and have fun — getting the toxicity of the past week out your system. That's just what the fun people do. But, for you... you prefer a different type of detox just like a tradition for other passing friday nights.

You can clearly hear the loud music and laugh from the people downstairs even though it was muffled from how your room is located at the third floor which is off limits for the outsiders. In addition to that, the only sounds you can hear are the hard pouncing of your bed on the walls and the vibration of groans coming from the man behind who's currently rutting his hardened cock inside you, bareback.

"Fuck... Sunghoon..." You whimpered, eyes glistens trying to look at him over your left shoulder, who just moaned in return. He's hitting it deep, continuously hitting that spot deliciously that made you a moaning mess. He grabs your neck, squeezing it hard enough to put the right pressure before biting your shoulder softly that added to your pleasure causing you to squeeze him tight.

"Roll on your back..." He quietly said that you immediately did without complaining. His cock still inside when you did so.

"Th-there" You whimper when sunghoon thrust again. "You're s-so thick..."

Sunghoon groans, before you feel him whispering in your ears, pace still unweaving. "You're squeezing me... tight" You were about to moan when he put his hands over your mouth, still thrusting inside. "How does it feel to be a dumb slut from a cock? from my cock, huh?"

You whimpered, not even thinking about answering that question. The only thing in your mind right now is how fucking good you feel. How sunghoon's cock got the thickness and length you need to hit all the spots.

"You like this..." He whispered. You felt his hot breath as he chuckled on your ears, still rutting his cock deep inside. "From the moment you caught me having sex with some girls on the guest room, you imagined me fucking you so good with my cock."

"Wishing it was you who will feel my length in here, stuffing your pussy just the way you like..." You felt his hands trace your lower abdomen, pushing it down slightly earning him a scream of pleasure from you.

Sunghoon's pace picked up, "You're such a slut." Your legs automatically opened up more, accommodating his trust even deeper inside you. If you were wet earlier, now, you're practically a waterfalls.

"Poor chan... didn't know his sweet baby sister is just a slut in a good girls clothing." He cooed locking his eyes on your glistening ones. "The one who'll let her brother's friend to have his way on her. One that will do everything just for me to touch her"

And as soon as that words leave out of his mouth, so is the feeling of his cock inside you. "Come here" He demanded standing not far from your bed.

You immediately stand up, walking in front of him as sunghoon welcomed you with a dirty kiss on the lips. You instantly melt from the way his tongue gently explore your cavern. Sunghoon felt that, smirking in between the kiss before pushing you onto the wall, trapping you in between with his body.

"I've never been the good guy, y/n. You should know that" You felt him raising your leg onto his shoulder causing you to hook your arms on his neck, practically doing vertical split as slam his hardened dick inside. "Besides, good guys could never fuck you this good"

"Fuck, so hot" He groaned pulling you into a messy kiss as his thrust got faster, his right hand busy with the cheeks of your ass while the other one playing with your nipples. You moaned into the kiss when sunghoon flicks it. Fuck, feels so good.

"So, perfect huh? Can't believe your pussy still squeezing me tight after having me inside for a long time."

"Su-sunghoon"

"Yes, call my name slut."

He chuckled hooking his arms on your other leg that still supporting you before raising it together with the other one. "Oh, fuck" You cursed, when you felt his tip sliding deeper inside.

"Oh, fu-fuck hoon" Both of your feet on his shoulder, trusting into you his pace unrelenting. The wall behind gives much support that he needed, sunghoon trapped you to where he wanted you to be. Where you belonged.

"Shit, tight as fuck. You're too tight for your own good, y/n."

"I'm close..." You moaned loudly not caring if someone will hear. You don't care at all. The sound of slapping of wet skins filled your room, so is the filthy wet sounds and curses coming from you and sunghoon.

"Don't come untill I told you to." He doesn't need to say it. There's a threat in his tone and you knew better than to try your luck. "Gotta take what I give, darling" Your eyes dart on his which is now doing the same too. His thrusts are still unwavering... deep, hard, and it was making your head spin. But, there's something on his eyes that makes you feel more than what you possibly should have.

It didn't took long when you felt his dick twitch inside. "Come for me" And you gladly do so as his thrust gets erratic, groaning onto your neck as you shivers feeling your walls be painted with thick white lines. Your hands on his neck slowly losing their support from the intensity. But then sunghoon keeps you on your position, but now with your legs safely secured around his waist, his dick still not leaving inside you.

You let him though. It was a good feeling, having him still stuffed inside you. It made you shiver when he walked towards you bed with you still on his waist. His dick thrusting softly inside you as he walk.

Sunghoon laid you to your bed, and was about to pull out when you stopped him silently.

He smirked, "what does my dumb slut want?"

"Fuck me again, please. Fuck me when I do my homeworks, fuck me when I'm in the showers, fuck me on my sleep, overstimulate me... i don't care. Just fuck me again, sunghoon"

Sunghoon's eyes darkened, his black hair falling perfectly on his eyes adding to the shadow that didn't failed to make you shiver not on fear but from being turned on. You can tell he was turned on by your thoughts. He just have to pull your strings. "I don't like the tone of your voice, darling"

"I'm sorry bu—"

"But, who am i to decline that right?"

You exhaled locking your teary eyes on him as his cock slowly thrusting again, stimulating your sensitive whole. Both of you cursed under your breath, "fuck me dumb that the only thing i can think of is your cock, sunghoon."

"But, what if your brother catch us? Don't you care about your brother anymore?"

"I don't care... I don't. The only thing I want is you, please" You whispered trying to keep your eyes open to look straight at sunghoon but the pleasure you're feeling is making it hard to do so.

You need him to swallow you. To possess you. To own you, you don't even care anymore.

"Hmm, let me think about that..." He replied looking down at your fucked up face like a predator having fun with his own prey.

He had you where he needs you. He successfully turn you into what he wants. It's not an accident when you saw him having sex with other girls. That's only one of the many traps sunghoon planted to make you come around. And, you did come around. Oh, you come around so good you didn't even have the idea. Besides, he's never been the good guy.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #enhypen au #park jongseong #enhypen ff

2K notes · View notes

stllmnstr · 4 months

Text

champagne problems: part one

pairing: jake sim x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff

part one word count: 15.6k

part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome

soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

PART ONE

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?

Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness.

Scratch that – thirty minutes.

Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives.

You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up.

Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing.

Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it.

Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness.

Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book.

If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing.

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second.

Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment.

With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date.

Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up.

Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her.

As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?

They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard.

Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure.

Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine.

And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it.

It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–

“Fuck.”

All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time.

…

Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm.

It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit.

And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course.

Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now.

“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”

And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated.

Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door.

Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance.

Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one.

The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID.

“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”

“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”

At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”

Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you.

Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be.

Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs. And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.

Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home.

Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about.

One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line.

Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”

Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”

“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always.

Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.”

Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily.

“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out.

What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again. “Well…”

“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap.

“Do you think you could get it for me?”

Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly.

“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent.

“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.”

“Why not?”

The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”

“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”

The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”

“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around.

It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully.

“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”

“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”

Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”

Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”

“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”

Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”

“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”

Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”

“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.

“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit.

James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”

A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”

“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”

Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”

“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”

“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly.

“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.”

Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is.

Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan.

And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text.

Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files.

…

All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage.

Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack.

“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”

That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door.

“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”

And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number.

But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently.

So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan.

And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with.

Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest.

For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful.

Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding?

He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom.

In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger.

“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”

“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way.

Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long.

“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”

Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”

“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”

Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”

Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”

Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.”

Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out.

“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”

“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine.

Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute. And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away.

It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger.

“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”

Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”

It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”

And that clicks things into place.

“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.

“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms.

Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes.

“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”

“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it.

“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”

“That’s not–”

“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”

“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”

“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”

“It’s Jake, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, just Jake.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”

“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”

“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking? “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”

You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”

“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who did you make a deal with?”

Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.

So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”

“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”

God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along as you drag him with you. I am so fucked.

…

When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless.

“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.

“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before.

“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down.

Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone.

Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”

“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend. “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”

Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”

You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”

“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”

You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”

Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”

“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”

You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”

“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”

“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”

You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing.

“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”

Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”

You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”

“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”

A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–

“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”

“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”

You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous.

There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number.

Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”

And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all.

Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true.

…

On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library.

Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror.

“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder.

All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop.

It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him.

Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it.

“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you.

“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him.

“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”

He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare.

Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”

“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”

As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving.

Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.

Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.

You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”

And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”

“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”

“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”

You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace.

“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right.

And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”

But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”

Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”

You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”

He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall.

“I…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks.

“Yes, okay?”

Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”

Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”

Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.

At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”

The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace.

He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”

A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”

Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”

You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”

…

Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.

Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake.

Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser.

Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment.

Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.

Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company.

Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.

Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house.

Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university.

If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system.

Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst.

And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.

With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be.

Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob.

Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.

Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all.

It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically.

In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom.

If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too.

And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.

Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants.

Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.

And then you set out for the university library.

When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter.

After all, the only reason you’re here is because–

“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence.

If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax.

“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”

You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”

Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”

“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice.

And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.”

You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.

When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”

Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute.

Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.

All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides.

He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–

Wait.

“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”

Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”

Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”

You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”

Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one.

“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”

That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”

The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”

If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”

“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now.

He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.

Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes.

“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”

Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer.

“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line.

For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”

And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.

And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it.

…

Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom.

Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.

But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.

It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight.

With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer.

Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim.

You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.

For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be.

You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one.

An overwhelming sense of self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else.

Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment.

As you get closer, their words become more audible.

“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”

And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it.

But then you look at Jake. Really look at him.

Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire.

Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this.

Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease.

It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is.

No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good.

“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over.

Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”

“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable.

Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”

From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.

Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”

You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”

A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.”

You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it.

Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”

She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”

The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier.

Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.

Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.

Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?

You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine.

Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.

Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face.

“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”

And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant.

Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”

“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”

And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.

The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window.

It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace.

So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being.

Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.

“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself.

Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”

Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.

Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey.

Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.

Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough.

Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.

“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault.

Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”

Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.

Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production.

Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for.

There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation.

“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”

“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices.

He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you.

Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there.

You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.

Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do.

“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath.

Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely.

James Sim.

You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”

“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him.

Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker.

Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”

You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”

It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name.

Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed.

“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”

Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”

Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”

“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments.

Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs.

James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card.

Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced.

Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.

But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.

Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.

A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”

Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”

You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him.

Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well.

The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable.

The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles.

And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

Girlfriend.

You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother.

Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.

“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”

When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read.

“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious.

“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles.

“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.”

“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes.

“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”

Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers.

“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother.

“Hopefully not, though,” you alter.

And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.

Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you.

The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations.

“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it.

“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”

“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”

Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions.

But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”

“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there.

Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout?

Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus.

After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance.

“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.”

Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”

“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.”

You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.

“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have.

After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being.

Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom.

As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else.

Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening.

When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut.

Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless.

…

The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror.

Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

CONTINUED IN PART 2

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

note: thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. part two still needs some love, and I'm hoping to have it out around this same time next week. I'll announce for sure when I have a release date & time. as always, I love hearing any thoughts/comments/screaming you may have. happy reading!

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim x you #jake sim scenarios #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun x you

1K notes · View notes

leaderwonim · 24 days

Text

MR. FUCKING BRIGHTSIDE

pairing. slytherin!jake x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary. although sim jaeyun constantly surrounds himself with douchebags and looks like he could stomp all over a girl’s heart; you knew the real him that was deep inside. but did you really?

genre. hogwarts!au, ANGST, bits of fluff, right person wrong circumstances, forbidden/secret love

warnings. jake can be a bit of an asshole, the insult “mudblood” is used, slytherin gets shitted on as a house (dw, i’m a slytherin 😭)

Sim Jaeyun, or everybody knew him as Jake, the sixth year Slytherin, seeker of his house’s Quidditch team, and nevertheless, charming to every girl that has stepped foot in his proximity.

Half of your friends would disagree—that he was not charming but rather just another slithering snake in the worst possible house at Hogwarts.

Jake’s friend group consisted of three people: Draco Malfoy, Blaise, and Pansy Parkinson. They just so happen to be an insufferable lot, maybe except Blaise who minded his own business half of the time.

“Today you will be working in pairs.” Professor McGonagall states, fixing her glasses as she holds a stroll of paper. “I’ve already decided them, absolutely no changes.”

There’s groans that fill the room, one of whom you recognize as no other than Jake.

“Seriously? I wanted to pair up with Blaise!” He whines, earning a glare from Draco. “What? C’mon Dray, we both know you and I don’t get anything done.”

“Alright,” Professor McGonagall clears her throat. “Blaise Zabini with Nancy Drumswell, Aidan Callaghan with Hermione Granger, Harry Potter with Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy with Pansy Parkinson, and finally, Jaeyun Sim with Y/N L/N.”

You don’t blink when you realize who your partner is. Rather, you just sigh a bit in defeat, coming to the conclusion that you cannot do anything to convince McGonagall to change partners.

“Hey.” Jake plops himself down on the seat next to you, laughing as Draco gives him a shove on the way to his own table.

“Hi.” You murmur, suddenly finding your yellow robe more interesting than him.

“I’ve never been paired with a Hufflepuff before.” He grins, the shit eating grin that weirdly captives your senses. “Are you guys as nice as you claim to be?”

“I don’t know Jaeyun, you tell me.”

Jake’s eyes widen before he lets out a giggle. “Jaeyun? No one ever calls me that anymore.”

You shrug, sliding him the piece of paper with the instructions to your project. “You can stop by the Hufflepuff dormitories at 8, I’ll be done with dinner by then and I’ll open it for you.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.”

You cringe at his words, the obvious disdain on your face makes him laugh even harder.

“I’ll see you then.” He whispers, and just like a movie, stands up as soon as McGonagall dismisses the class, merging into one with his friends.

♡;

Just as the clock struck eight, you heard a knock. Your books, pens, and parchment were spread out in front of you, eagerly waiting to be used.

As you slowly get up to open the door, you’re met face to face with Jake, who entered the room with a confident stride

"Hey there, Y/N," Jake greeted, flashing you a charming smile as he took a seat across from your side of the table.

"Hey," you politely turn his smile. "Ready to tackle this project?"

"Absolutely," he affirmed, pulling out his own notes and spreading them out on the table. "I've got some ideas already. How about you?"

You nodded, slightly impressed by Jake's readiness to dive into the work. "I've been brainstorming as well. Maybe we can combine our ideas and come up with something great."

As the two of you began discussing your approaches to the project, youcouldn't help but notice how articulate and intelligent Jake was when he wasn't surrounded by his usual group of friends. His confidence shone through, but it was paired with a genuine interest in the subject matter that caught you off guard.

"You sure sound different when you’re not around Draco," You remarked.

Jake only chuckled, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Yeah, well, I guess I don't always show this side of me around my friends. They have a different idea of what's cool."

You can only nod in understanding, realizing that Jake was more complex than you had initially assumed.

As you continued working, you couldn’t help but find yourself paying closer attention to the small details about him—the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the soft lilt in his voice when he explained a concept, the way his eyes sparkled with passion for the project.

"Thanks for coming, Jake," you say, offering him a genuine smile. "I really enjoyed working with you."

Jake returned your smile, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that sent a sudden flutter through your heart. "Anytime, Y/N. I had a great time too."

As you bid each other goodnight, you couldn’t help but suddenly miss his presence, something you didn’t expect to happen with just one session with him.

♡;

In your second studying session, you and Jake found yourselves engrossed in their project once again. This time, you two decided to move to a quiet corner of the library, away from prying eyes and distractions. The Hufflepuff dorms were too crowded, and you knew you’d rather die than step into the Slytherin dormitory as a Hufflepuff.

As you discussed your research findings, you couldn't help but notice how Jake's demeanor had softened since your last meeting. He seemed more relaxed, more open, as if he felt comfortable letting his guard down around you.

Jake suddenly reached across the table to grab a book, his hand brushing against yours in the process. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, leaving you quite literally breathless for a moment. “Here Y/N, I heard this book was good for this particular topic.”

Your eyes met briefly, and you felt your cheeks flush with warmth.

“Thanks,” you murmur, looking down slightly.

Jake smiled back at you, seemingly oblivious to the effect his touch had on you. For a person who charms so much girls, you’d think he know how much his advances affected others.

“No problem, seems like we got a lot done within these 2 days huh?”

"Yeah, it seems so," you reply softly.

Even though it had only been 2 nights, in those quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of their classmates, you had realized just how much you actually enjoyed Jake's company. He wasn't just the annoying Slytherin she had initially pegged him to be—he was kind, intelligent, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

"I guess that's it for tonight," Jake said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “Can’t believe they only allow Prefects in the library past ten.”

"Yeah," you groan, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye. "But we'll see each other again soon, right?"

Jake nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Definitely. Let’s just hope Malfoy doesn’t ruin it.”

♡;

As you made your way through the corridors of Hogwarts with Hermione, you spotted Jake surrounded by his Slytherin friends, including Draco and Pansy. Suddenly feeling the wave of confidence at the sight of him, you decided to muster up the courage to approach him.

But as you drew nearer, you noticed a subtle shift in Jake's demeanor. His usual friendly expression hardened, and a smirk spread across his lips as he turned to face you and Hermione.

"Look who it is, boys," Draco says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Little Miss Hufflepuff herself."

Jake and Pansy chuckled, exchanging knowing glances with Draco as if they were in on some inside joke. Your smile faltered, confusion and hurt swirling in your chest as you struggled to make sense of Jake's sudden change in attitude.

"Um, hi, Jaeyun," you replied, voice barely above a whisper as you fought to keep her composure.

"Seriously? Jaeyun? That’s hysterical.” Pansy laughs, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

“What's the matter, Y/N? Can't find anyone from your own house so you bother our Jake here?” Draco continues to taunt you, his words like daggers aimed straight at your heart. “Or should I say Jaeyun?”

You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment as the laughter of Jake's friends echoed in your ears. You had never felt so small, so insignificant to the group in front of you.

“I was hoping to discuss our project.” You say quietly, looking at anyone but Jake.

Hermione could sense your hostility, pulling you close to her side as she gave Draco a snarl.

“Listen Y/N,” Jake says, “all that crap you Hufflepuffs preach about loving each other and expressing feelings is a lie. No one really cares about what you have to say.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Hermione says, shielding you by putting herself in front of your frame. “What has gotten into you?”

But Jake just shrugged her off, his smirk widening into a sneer. "Mind your own business, mudblood. This doesn't concern you."

Feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you quickly turn on your heel and fled down the corridor, desperate to escape the humiliation of Jake's cruel words.

Had you really been so stupid to place your trust in Sim Jaeyun knowing full well his reputation? By the looks of it, all answers pointed to yes.

♡;

By 7pm, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the surface of the Black Lake just in front of the Slytherin Common Rooms.

“Y/N?” Almost as if he knew exactly where you were, Jake shows up in front of you, making you give him a glare.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice tinged with remorse as he avoided your gaze. He takes a seat next to you on the grass, his fingers tracing patterns across them in nervousness. "I messed up back there. I let my pride get the best of me, and I hurt you in the process. I should have stood up for you."

You sighed, your heart heavy with disappointment but softened by Jake's sincerity.

“I don’t get it,” you say. “One moment you’re all kind and sincere around me, and the next, you say all these things like I’m worth nothing.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the air filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Then, Jake spoke again, his voice hesitant but earnest. "I guess my friends just have an influence on me that I can’t control. I’m sorry for what I said earlier, you’re one of the kindest people I've ever met, Y/N. I admire that about you."

You slightly smiled, a warm flush spreading across your cheeks. "Thank you, Jake. That means a lot to me."

As the sky darkened and stars began to twinkle overhead, the two of you continued to talk, laughter mingling with the night air.

♡;

The next night was one of the more important nights at Hogwarts. Everybody had finished their exams—and the Ravenclaws decided to throw a party at their Commons.

The music throbbed as you entered with Ron Weasley, who, at the sight of his twin brothers, ran towards them. You roll your eyes at his behavior, and start pulsing through the crowded room, a plastic smile plastered on your face.

You notice Jake in the corner, sipping on what looked like a bottle of beer. He exchanged nods and greetings with those around him, his eyes scanning the room for something—someone.

But before you could gawk at him any longer, Draco cut in smoothly, his tone laced with mockery. "Oh, look who decided to show up. Did you bring your Hufflepuff friend to the party, Jake? How charming."

Pansy giggled, her eyes glittering with malice as she looked at you up and down. "I didn't know us Slytherins were into charity work."

“Guys, seriously? Cut it out,” Jake gulps, eyes directly meeting yours.

“He’s right,” Blaise says, and you swear it’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him. “Don’t ruin the party.”

“Whatever.” Pansy throws her hand in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t want to make the Hufflepuff cry.”

Hermione comes to your rescue right after Pansy throws you a glare.

“Piss off.” She says, interlocking her arms with yours.

“Thanks ‘Mione.” You thank her softly as you’re lead away from the lot. “For saving me back there.”

“Always,” she smiles. “Now cmon, I heard Ron’s already drunk!”

You two giggle at that, you letting Hermione lead the way into the crowd of people.

♡;

It’s about 2 hours later and the Ravenclaw party is still loud as ever, filled with with laughter and music.

Despite the Weasley twins making a full ruckus of themselves, your eyes were drawn to a figure slumped in a corner. It was Jake, only this time, he looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, his face pale and contorted with some type of emotion you hadn’t seen before.

Concern etched onto your features, and your body felt itself navigating through the crowd of people until you’re knelt beside him. "Jake? Are you alright? Where’s Draco?”

He lifted his head, and you swore you felt your heart clenched at the sight of his glassy eyes and trembling lips. "I'm fine," he mumbled, but his voice betrayed the lie.

"No, you're not," you reply softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Jake swallowed hard, his gaze flickering with a mix of emotions. "It's... it's nothing," he slurred, but his words lacked conviction.

You stayed silent, sensing he needed to unburden himself. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice raw with emotion. "Do you think I’m good for nothing?”

"What?" You asked gently, your heart sinking as you watched him struggle to form his thoughts.

"I mean look at this, look at me," Jake gestured vaguely, gesturing to the party around the two of you. "This charade I constantly put on. Pretending to be someone I'm not."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Jake trailed off, his breath hitching. "Was it all worth the six years of be pretending to be who I wasn’t? Pretending to be the egoistic charming Slytherin everyone claims to know so well?”

Jake pauses before looking up at you, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. "You know I care about you a lot, right? I like you, a lot.”

“You do?” You say quietly, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes.

“But we just can’t.”

“What?”

“Why not?”

"Because,” Jake's voice cracked, and he looked away. "Because I wish you were in Slytherin."

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces at his words. You almost knew it then, with a painful realization that you could never compete with the loyalty he felt towards his house and the expectations placed upon him by his housemates.

Tears stung your eyes as you realized there was nothing she could do to change his mind. With a heavy heart, you rose to your feet.

“Well I’m sorry then, Jake.” You say, turning around so he wouldn’t see your tears.

And as you walked away, the echoes of his confession lingered in your mind, haunting your thoughts with the bitter realization that sometimes, love simply wasn't enough.

985 notes · View notes

jungwnies · 2 years

Text

⋅ ⎯ ✈︎ sim jaeyun + park sunghoon | s. enhypen's jake and sunghoon have their way with the notorious l/n y/n when she decides to make her move on the two of them ! | p. sim jaeyun x fem!reader x park sunghoon ! | w. smut, threesome, double penetration, absolutely no innocence ! | g. smut, romance ! | r. requested by @brownsugarbaybee ! | wc. ~1.2k !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀⠀masterlist | navigation

it wasn't uncommon for guys to approach you asking for your body considering you were notorious for being extremely experienced in the sexual world

but recently it's been quite boring, no one interested you, and whenever you did have your fun with some people, that's all it was fun. no pleasure anywhere.

everyone usually paid attention to you, you were THAT girl. the popular one, yet the nice one, yet the one constantly labeled as a slut. but it didn't go un-noticed when the two most popular jocks in your university paid you no mind.

park sunghoon, and sim jaeyun... everyone called him jake though.

you boldly strutted to them sitting besides them on the bleachers making yourself comfortable, "you're sunghoon and jake right?"

the boys look at each other confused before turning to you and nodding, "and you are?"

you smile, "i'm y/n."

they knew who you were, they heard all the rumors about you fucking half the school and being extremely experienced, and for that they didn't really care because they thought you were "overused"

but with a little more bugging you had eventually grew on them becoming friends quickly.

the duo intrigued you, you wanted them to test you so you decided to invite them over one day.

jake laughs, "with sunghoon, hell no."

"two guys and one girl? not my kind of thing." sunghoon adds.

"but you guys are like best friends, so why haven't you tried?"

jake shrugs as sunghoon began to talk, "i mean it wouldn't be that bad would it?"

"it never hurts to try i guess, but we don't have any candidates to ask, and that's a little weird to ask." sunghoon continues.

"how about you try with me?" you suggest moving in closer to sunghoon, staring straight into his eyes.

sunghoon chuckles, "nice try y/n."

"i haven't even started." you whisper moving in closer, your lips barely touching his ear. "how about now?"

sunghoon couldn't lie, the way you were sending chills down his back sparked something in him.

"i should probably go." jake says standing up before you grab his hand pulling him back up.

"just sit and watch like a good boy, hm?" you smile as your body barely moved from sunghoon.

jake scoffed and pulled you away from sunghoon, "how about you be a good girl and listen to us, okay?"

you smirk and sigh, "if that's what you want, then i guess i'll have to listen."

sunghoon moved closer to the two with you taking off your shirt leaving you in your bra, which hugged your breasts in a way that could make the two salivate.

jake's propped you up on his lap as he laid kisses on your neck, chest, and his hands wondered touching your bare skin. sunghoon on the other hand was behind you, his lips leaving marks along the other side of your neck as he unhooked your bra and played with your breasts.

“are you sure you want this yn?” jake asks in between kisses. as sunghoon raised his head to make sure you were comfortable with it.

you nod, “i want you guys to ruin me.”

with those words jake made his way to the button on your shorts and slipped them off leaving you in nothing but your panties.

“you wear these just for us?” sunghoon asks whispering in your ear as his hands grazed the hems of your panties. “these lacy revealing panties just for us?”

you turn your head to face sunghoon partially, “i just wanted to make a good impression.”

you pull of jake shirt revealing his defined abs as sunghoon took of his behinds you. your hands u buttoned jakes pants pulling them off as you see his hard on. “shouldn’t you do something about this love?” you say putting your hand on his clothes cock as he lets out a soft moan.

you stand up from your spot and go to sunghoon who was seated on the couch and you get on top of him, “i want to see what you can do.”

sunghoon’s hands land on your ass as you wrap your arms around him, you feel a bare chest press against your back as jake massaged your shoulders also leaving kisses on top of sunghoon’s marks darkening them. sunghoon’s pulls down your panties and moves his hands to your glistening folds, “already so wet because of us.”

you giggle and lean your head on sunghoon’s shoulders places and leaving marks on his fair skin. his finger makes swirls around your clit causing you to moan as you kissed his neck. “more.”

sunghoon stopped playing with your clit before entering two of his fingers into your pretty hole causing you to moan loudly. you feel jakes cock harden even more behind you and begin to stroke your ass. his cock teasing your hole from the back causing you to move a little in attempt to allow him in you.

jake spits on his cock before he rams into your ass causing a lewd noise to escape your mouth. “fuck!”

jake breathily moans as he continues to fuck you from the back, you move your hand from sunghoon’s neck to his still clothes cock and remove his boxers making his hard on spring out. “please, sunghoon.”

“you us both to fuck you?” sunghoon asks as he plays with your pussy. you nod as sunghoon chucked. he inserts his cock into your pussy as jake continues to hit it from the back.

the two boys now fucking you at the same pace causing you to reach your high quicker.

you feel your high coming as sunghoon and jake both stopped, “floor.” sunghoon says breathily as jake laid onto the floor.

“ride me.” jake tells you pulling you down onto him. you prop yourself on top of him and he pulls you down onto his cock, him filling you up easily. sunghoon goes behind you enters the same hole jake was in.

“oh my god, fuck!” you moan as the two of them fucked you. this was the first time you’ve been double penetrated, it hurt in the beginning but as the two continued to fuck you, you couldn’t help but begin to feel the pleasure.

you leaned down continue to grind on jake’s cock as sunghoon made his position a little more comfortable still fucking you.

not too long after the three of you could feel your highs coming, jakes moans getting louder, sunghoon’s grip on your hips tightening, and the way you clenched around the two dicks inside you; it was no doubt the three of you would cum.

the room is shortly filled with lewd noises as the two came inside you, causing everything to spill out your pretty pussy as they pulled out tiredly.

“i guess it does never hurt to try.” sunghoon says out of breath seeing you completely fucked out on the ground.

“are you sure that was your first threesome?” you ask turning your head towards sunghoon.

320 notes · View notes

heartandfangs · 2 years

Text

YOU WISH.

GENRE Roommates AU, Playboy!Jake, Virgin!Reader, Suggestive, A bit of fluff

PAIRING f!Reader x Jake/Jaeyun

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY, Cursing, Flirting, Slow-burn, Morally-grey characters, Sexual tension, Fantasizing, Brief mention of a past blowjob, Teasing, Sub!Jake’s dirty thoughts + Praise kink exposed yet again, MC gets a little physical and aggressive (nothing crazy, promise), University/Adulthood woes, One too many puppy references

WORD COUNT 3.3k

SUMMARY One thing led to another, then suddenly a puppy was following you around in the library during finals week– it turns out his name is Jake Sim, a flirtatious underclassman who quite possibly could be the quickest answer to your desperate prayers. But there was only one thing to do when he started getting in the way of your study time; let him know that this was your territory.

AUTHOR’S NOTE I wrote this before all the installments of IOU but forgot about it until recently lol. This could be a standalone fic, but it's essentially IOU– Part Zero. I revised it because I think it adds a layer to the story and how MC got into this debacle as Jake’s roommate in the first place. It's fun and offers more telling insight into their first impressions of each other.

I’m in the midst of writing Part 5 and it’s going to be a pretty long chapter so I hope you look forward to reading it soon! I will say Heeseung is in the spotlight a bit more while Jake is down in the dumps for this upcoming chapter and the man has absolutely no chill. So, get your dose of Jekjek here while you can!

As always, like/reblog this fic and leave me some feedback if you enjoyed it and want more. Reading your wild and sweet comments is honestly my favorite part next to writing. 🤍⚰️

TAGLIST @fan-zhan, @burningsunsun, @kazuhugs, @skzenhalove, @axartia, @stbwe, @duolingofanaccount, @writingmochi

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,Part 4, Masterlist

A text notification sounded from your pocket– it was from your potential roommate and little did you know how dreadful it would be to read.

'___, I'm so sorry, but my plans have changed, as I'm taking a job offer out of town. I can't move in with you anymore. So sorry for the insanely late heads up, but I do wish you the best of luck– and belated congratulations on graduating!'

"Shit, shit– shit!"

Unable to even think about where you'd be living after graduation with finals on your mind, you pocketed your phone and ran an aggravated hand through your hair. Nothing irked you more than when people went back on their word, especially last minute; this was not helping your rising stress levels.

Jesus, feel free to take the wheel any moment now–

The library elevator doors binged on a floor that wasn't your stop; you exhaled heavily, tapping your foot impatiently.

Your bloodshot eyes darted to the boy revealed behind the elevator doors. Immediately you noticed his figure– he was several inches taller than you, lean, and had dark brown hair. Handsome. The student was dressed in a plaid shirt over a casual tee paired with denim jeans and sneakers. He probably belonged to a fraternity, but that was just a stereotypical guess.

You locked eyes with him for a split second and noticed his brows raise in interest ever so slightly, causing you to hastily shift your gaze elsewhere. You settled on staring at the button that lit up to indicate your destination was the top floor.

You noticed him stand up a little straighter out of the corner of your eye as he faced the closing steel doors. The young man's cologne suddenly filled the enclosed space, triggering your keen senses. To your delight, he smelled of warm amber and subtle lavender. Pleasant yet unexpected.

The student made no move to choose a different floor, and you pretended not to notice. He cleared his throat suddenly, earning a confused look from you.

"Here to study?" The boy smiled at you, and you didn't miss the lilt in his voice, his Australian accent nearly throwing you off.

"Yeah, like everybody else," You replied indifferently.

His smile left as quickly as he gave it; he glanced down at his shoes. Your curt answer seemingly deterred him from continuing the conversation with you.

Shoot. Well, you couldn't help it.

Finals week had you tense and single-minded at the moment. Pleasantries and small talk weren't your forte in the first place.

Honestly, you just hoped that you'd come across an available seat for you to hunker down in and get shit done. However, the ride up the elevator was slower than usual, and you couldn't shake off the bit of guilt in your chest.

The elevator opened to the top level of the library, and the boy allowed you to step out first. The two of you parted ways in search of a cubicle.

It was clear that after you made several rounds circling the floor like a hawk, every seat on the floor was taken.

The highest floor of the library was the most ideal study spot as it was the one with the best thermostat setting, the best wifi, and the quietest environment. It was your go-to spot all semester long, and you were annoyed that the entirety of the student body suddenly piled in during finals week.

Where was everyone else while you spent time between class periods and evenings sifting through the aisles of books and hogging a study room all to yourself? It was hardly fair, but you accepted your defeat.

After a hot minute, you were back where you started, leaning against the wall in the lobby facing the set of elevators. What a nightmarish process– you'd have to try your luck on another floor.

Apparently, someone else had met the same fate as you.

You watched the student who rode the elevator with you shuffle back into the lobby, looking as hopeless as you felt. However, his expression brightened considerably upon noticing you staring at him.

Ah, shit.

You shifted your weight into your other leg as he made a beeline your way.

"No luck staking down a spot either?" He asked from a polite distance with his hands slipped into his pockets.

Despite that, his warm scent enveloped you again, and you inhaled slightly, trying not to be obvious. You suddenly wondered if you smelled weird— did you smell weird?

"No," you tried to inject a little more emotion into your voice, even if you just sounded disappointed, "Everything was taken, unfortunately."

"Wanna try the third floor with me? It's one of the less popular floors, but it usually has a decent amount of tables and cubicles," He asked, catching you off guard.

"Um…"

Would he end up trying to chat with you the entire time if you two did manage to find a spot to study? You supposed you were willing to take your chances to find a place asap.

After all, your photography final was in three hours, and you didn't have any more time to waste since you had put off studying for the elective in favor of your core classes.

Momentarily you regarded the boy who gave you a hopeful look, in the exact way a puppy might when they want to tag along on an errand run.

Such creatures were your ultimate weakness, right next to any offer that involved ‘food’ or ‘free’.

"...Sure," You agreed with a sigh.

"Alright! Let's go." You noted his eyes shone when he smiled.

Hoping you'd find better luck on the third floor, once you exited the elevators, you led the way, weaving between the aisles of books to check for open cubicles near the walls.

The boy you'd just met was in close tow behind you; not close enough to touch, obviously, but a lot closer than you'd expect someone to be when you hardly knew each other.

Maybe he just felt more comfortable around you after you agreed to join forces under the name of studying.

Upon emerging from an aisle of shelves, your eyes zoned in on a single free cubicle and chair in the corner of the room.

A wish come true!

Slowly, you glanced back at Jake to gauge his reaction. His mouth formed a silent "ah" before stopping in his tracks. Other students were in the vicinity, their noses buried in textbooks and laptops, a terrible tension suffocating the air.

"You can take it," you quickly whispered, surprised at your sudden generosity.

He merely smirked back and motioned you ahead with his hand, "Go ahead, you saw it first."

You tried to hide your amusement and insisted he take it, wanting to make up for your lack of friendliness during your first interaction in the elevator. If you two found a spot this quickly, there might be a chance you'd find another just as soon, right?

While you waited for his response, he merely looked around at his surroundings, seemingly contemplative, until his gaze settled back on you.

"Shall we keep looking?" He boldly suggested.

This time your brows raised in surprise, lips parting as a response was slow to form in your mind.

Jake's dark eyes bore into you, rooting you to your spot while all you heard was clicking keyboards and the shuffling of papers. The implication of his suggestion dawned on you.

Did you want to continue to keep each other company?

You really hadn't experienced much social interaction with that many people this semester, except with the friendly Dance major you'd settle in next to during your photography class. Which, by the way, was coming up hot on your schedule.

Now really wasn't the time, and yet...

"Okay," You said, sealing your fate.

Wait, what?

You were unable to believe your own words.

Jake had watched you all the while and chuckled, extremely pleased at your response. This time, he guided you down the walkway, passing behind the rows of busy students back into the shelf aisles.

"What's your name?"

Jake slowed his pace to walk side-by-side with you, causing you to nearly brush arms to squeeze by the narrow walkways. You realized that you two hadn't exchanged the most basic information yet.

"___," You shared.

He was all smiles as he repeated it as enthusiastically as he could in a library setting, "I'm Jake."

It seemed his voice could be a bit deep at times; it was interesting hearing him whisper your name.

"Nice to meet you… Jake." You tried his name out, and he nodded. "What's your major?"

"I'm a Business major, minoring in Marketing."

"Oh wow, you must have a lot to study for," You pondered.

"Yeah, a bit. I graduate in a year, so I have to keep it up for a little while longer."

Jake must be finishing up as a Junior then. You didn't expect that with his build, although it's tough to tell someone's age and class year these days with everyone having different paths in life. You wondered if he was an athlete on top of everything else education-wise.

"I see."

The fact that you were graduating so soon was scary, but you were planning to play it safe for a while and rack up experience at your internship before making any big moves.

"You gotta work hard and play hard, you know?"

Although you imagined you two had different definitions for the latter term, you nodded.

The two of you suddenly came across a set of empty individual cubicles simultaneously, side by side.

"I think those are reserved for us," Jake nudged your arm with his elbow. You glanced up at him and met his friendly eyes once again.

"Lucky us," You proceeded to take the seat to the left of the other one.

Jake slung off his backpack onto the other table and leaned over your partition to speak to you. You eyed him in curiosity from your seat as you shimmied your laptop out of your bag.

Settling his arms on top of the wooden divider of your cubicle, Jake suddenly dropped his half-lidded gaze to your lips, then back up to your wide eyes.

All the while, his grin never disappeared as he watched you freeze in your chair, undeterred.

Did he just—?

"Mind watching my stuff for me for a sec?"

His voice had gotten lower again too. You nodded dumbly.

"Thanks," he smiled at you before walking off to the lobby.

Oh. You knew that look, but you've never really been on the receiving end of one that intense.

It made you feel pinned to the spot like you were being cornered or coerced… into what exactly? Unable to expend energy on what was going on, you decided to stand your ground regardless of what might happen. One couldn't afford to waste any more time in this scenario, so you tried to shrug it off and busy yourself with studying.

Within a minute, your study station was set up, laptop, notebooks, and all. Facts about appropriate aperture and ISO settings in correlation with various weathers filled your mind as you crammed for your photography final, not without great effort. At some point, Jake returned and settled into his cubicle.

He left you alone, for a good while at least.

You were pulled out of your deep thoughts upon noticing Jake's chair pull up by your side.

"How goes it?" He whispered.

"Fine… it's a little tedious of final to study for," You admitted. Who knew one would have to study so much content for a class like photography.

"You seem like a smart girl, so I'm sure you'll ace it. Want me to quiz you?"

"I… sure?"

Jake adjusted his chair to face you and leaned back in it, taking your study packet in hand. Letting his legs spread open comfortably, Jake's fingers innocently played with the stitched seam of his jeans along his inner thigh. At the same time, he rattled off some questions, inevitably attracting your attention to his lower half.

Jake watched you shift in your chair as you tried your damnedest to look elsewhere while answering his questions accurately.

In the meantime, Jake slyly took in the details of your appearance over the edge of your worksheets. He appreciated the way those tight black leggings of yours, paired with that little cropped sweater displayed the curves of your body in a way that had him undressing you in his mind, only guessing at what color panties you wore beneath it all.

He shamelessly dragged his eyes over the swell of your chest, the tips of your nipples peeking through the sweater fabric. He was glad that the library A/C was blasting even on the third floor and that you'd chosen to forgo wearing a bra.

"Hey. Eyes up here, kid," You warned, snapping your fingers.

Jake licked his lips, quickly meeting your scrutinizing gaze. "Sorry."

"For some reason, I don't believe that." You moved to pluck your worksheet out of his grasp, but he kept it out of reach.

"Sorry, I'll do it properly—! "

You lowered your head and shoved him down too.

"Whisper, dummy!"

The way your fingers threaded through Jake's hair, albeit a bit roughly, sent wonderful sparks down his spine. He rubbed his thighs together, breath shuddering.

"Sorry, you're just really—"

Suddenly he was being dragged out of his seat into a nearby aisle of books, further away from the students trying to focus on their studies.

You swung Jake around, his back hitting a tall shelf of books with a thump.

Crossing your arms, you glared up at him. "Jake, stop apologizing and quiz me; I don't have time to waste. Now sit."

Jake slid down the shelf of books until he hit the floor, clutching onto your notes. His wide eyes peered up at you– and you kicked yourself for thinking he looked adorable.

You had your literal finals to study for, and it was his suggestion to help you in the first place.

You slunk down in front of him and crossed your legs, leaning against the opposite shelf.

"Start from the top."

Jake nodded and obediently quizzed you with more focus and enthusiasm under your watch. He was impressed that you nailed every question, yet far from surprised.

You would check your watch every so often, making Jake realize his time spent with you was limited. He had to act fast.

Once you answered the last question, you stretched your hands towards the ceiling, satisfied with your performance.

"Nice job, ___. Guaranteed A+ for sure," He stared at you, nibbling on his bottom lip, clearly wanting to please.

You tilted your head curiously. "So, you can be a good boy."

This guy is kind of like a moody puppy. Kind of like… Stitch?

You held back a snort at the comparison your brain made, but Jake clearly had a similar mischievous side to him if he thought he was being slick while checking you out.

Jake nearly panicked while receiving your praise, trying to refrain from twitching as you ran a hand over his dark fringe to pat his head. The simple gesture felt so nice, somehow even nicer than the blowjob he had just gotten back in the business building earlier that morning.

Unable to fight the flush of heat rising up his cheeks, he brought his knees closer to his chest; his jeans had grown uncomfortably tight. Why was he getting so worked up by just a few light touches from a girl he'd just met?

…

Who was Jake kidding? He'd been struggling to control his urges since he first laid eyes on you in the elevator.

"You should know, it’s not easy to make me like this," Jake couldn't help but reveal.

"Clearly," You chuckled quietly at his sulky expression, assuming he was referring to his compliant attitude.

Jake's face lit up at your laugh, even if it was at his own expense. His leg stretched out across the carpet to bump against yours, and that drew your attention, your amused smile lingering.

He took a deep breath, "I'm just going to throw this out there. My lease is up at the end of this semester, and my dorm sucks. I'm looking at this apartment on the outskirts of campus because fuck my dorm RA and everyone else in it. I want a place downtown where all the nightlife is… and I'm also in the market for a roommate."

Your ears perked up. "Really?"

Jake's brows rose in anticipation of your interest.

"Huh, tell me more—"

"Shhh!" A random student's voice scolded from nearby.

Several heads nearby whipped in your direction, and you ducked your head in apology, not realizing you raised your voice.

Jake giggled and scooted closer to you, lowering his tone of voice to a murmur. He spread his hand flat against the floor near your leg.

"Here's the deal, ___. I'm only expecting my roommate to pay a quarter of rent; I'll be covering the rest."

"Why the hell is that?" You asked, genuinely shocked at the offer.

Jake looped his finger through your shoelace, tugging at it slightly. "…I like to have people over often, so I'm not the quietest roommate, but I'll stay out of your way."

You weren't exactly sure what that meant, but you skipped pressing the matter, still aghast at what his proposition could mean for you. "That's an insane offer, dude. No bullshit?"

"Nope. Do you wanna go down there and look at the place with me Friday evening?"

You nodded, but as he took out his phone to exchange numbers, you grabbed his wrist, startling him. Jake swallowed thickly at your proximity, anticipating your following words.

"You're not trying to lure me out to a weird place to murder me, are you, Jake?"

Jake's throat nearly seized before answering.

Christ, she's a cautious one, isn't she?

"Nah, of course not," He joked, "I'm not diabolical enough to execute a big, sticky ordeal like that. Besides, you don't seem like the sort of person I'd want to cross—"

— Too much, at least.

Secretly, deep down, Jake quite liked how assertive you could get when he acted out. Interacting with you was, by his definition, fun.

You smirked, "Very good answer."

Every inch of his skin that your hand covered was set alight. The moment you pulled back, Jake wished you hadn't let go but instead chose to run your fingers up his arm and through his hair again, praising him for saying the right answer, for being such a good boy.

He knew you two had just met and that he was insane for thinking this— but why could he imagine countless scenarios involving all the restaurants the two of you could share a meal at, all the late-night movies to catch with you, amongst the limitless ways to make you moan his name in pleasure?

Such weird thoughts to have… except for the latter.

As you stood up, Jake flexed his tingling hand.

You snatched your worksheet back but offered your free hand to him, "I guess I owe you one."

Maybe you did, but Jake wanted nothing more than to pull you back down on him and take your stress away, however you'd like him to.

Even if it involved you pushing him up against any sort of solid surface again, especially if it meant letting him play with your lovely tits in his mouth while you got yourself off by grinding down on his aching bulge.

He didn't mind that you were a high-strung individual– couldn't even blame you, what with all the stressful energy permeating the entire campus– that just made the thought of breaking you down all the sweeter.

Fuck.

He mentally soothed himself, feeling dizzy.

Calm down, Jaeyun, calm down, calm down…

He was in dire need of developing self-control; it could complicate things.

"If it ends up working out for your situation, then let's be roommates," Jake replied instead, slipping his hand into yours as you hauled him to his feet with a strength he wouldn't have guessed you had.

Stars tinged the edge of his vision while he focused on your bare facial features.

Beautiful.

"And if not?" You asked.

"I just might request that you reserve us a private study room—"

You lightly shoved at his chest, rolling your eyes while he grinned at you.

"You wish, Jake."