things i know that i can't have

jake's life was hard enough before he fell for you—balancing uni, football, and being a good christian son. in some cruel twist of fate, sleeping with you has only made things harder—and, according to sunghoon (and scripture), damned him to hell the first time he thought about it.

pairing ✩ jake sim x fem!reader

genres: college au, (established) fwb to lovers, smut, fluff, angst

warnings: minors dni, mild religious exploration and guilt, strained parental relationship.......... deeply unserious and a bit melodramatic at times, jake's pov, jake crashes out every few paragraphs, football player jake (british), jakeyn are so nct dream (young and freaky), surface level gatsby analysis, creative liberties taken w the location of freshwater fish.. author loves jake so jake must suffer, and one peep show quote

word count: 33,666

playlist: ...what are we lizzy mcalpine, all my ghosts lizzy mcalpine, north clairo, 20191009 i like her mac demarco, 10:36 beabadoobee, lover/friend kaytranada and rochelle jordan

fic taglist: @heechwe @yunjardi @fancypeacepersona @skyearby @kimjkejyy @sanriowoozzz @ii-mimii @pochakkeu @xylatox @seung-log @anofi @immelissaaa @mssishipi @somuchdard @yuniesluv @m3wkledreamy @jakesimfromstatefarm

But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell. 

— Matthew 5:28-30, English Standard Version. 

There it is, in black and white—red and white, since Sunghoon has a red letter edition. Jake skims the passage again, certain words sticking out this time: lustful intent, adultery, with her. Underlined, italics and bold, like they could be missed. If only. It’s too late now; they’re etched on his retinas, branded on his skin. Lodged deep in his chest, taken root already. It hardly seems fair that a single thought could hold so much weight.

Or, in Jake’s case, many, many thoughts.

Shuddering, he closes the leather bound book softly, a slow exhale ripping out of him as he glances up at his best friend. “You mean I.. can’t even think about fucking her?” he whispers, brows touching in the middle.

pretty sure i’ve died a thousand deaths reading this because it was just so unbelievably beautiful and well-written and i wished it was even longer although it’s perfect how it is. this jake has my whole heart seriously if only men were real

E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

JANUARY 25nd, 2025 RECOMMENDATIONS ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

a. angst f. fluff sug. suggestive s. smut h. horror c. crack ★. please dear publishers I want this on my bookshelf

₊˚⊹꒷ ALL OF THE MEMBERS / UNITS

★ !! SAFE & SOUND by @thatfeelinwhenyou Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive. ᝰ dystopian, post-apocalyptic survival, horror/thriller, slow burn, ANGST , FUCK THIS IS SO GOOD. EVERY TIME A UPDATE COMES OUT I LITERALLY STOP EVERYTHING I AM DOING.ᐟ₊ ⊹

BLOODSTRUCK by @jjunieworld (deactivated) sugg. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾. ᝰ vampire au / vampire!enha / established relationship / suggestive / blood / biting / dry humping / kissing / skinship .ᐟ₊ ⊹

WHEN YOU ACCIDENTLY TEXT THEM "WANNA BANG" by @jayparked c. ᝰ best friend enhypen x gender neutral reader / text au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

WITH EASE by @hhmnya f. ᝰ in which hyung line helps you with your kid .ᐟ₊ ⊹

when you type 'fuck' instead of 'duck' - enhypen

is he mr. right?

welcome to, "is he mr. right?", the dating game! where a lucky girl who is looking for love has the opportunity to go on a date with four handsome and eager bachelor's who are also looking for love.

heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon

genre: written series, dating show au, strangers to ...?, fluff, romance, angst, humor, mutual pining

warnings: profanity, consensual skinship, hyped up dating show stereotypes but nothing offensive, kissing, 18+

status: on-going, started january 25th, 2025, updates every sunday at 6pm pst

read more below !

emergency contact 𐐪♡𐑂

CUPID'S CHAOS ⌇화살

pairing ᝰ heeseung x fem!reader

— featuring.. n/a | word count: 4k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ college au, fluff, bickering, misunderstandings, obliviousness, 2000’s rom com vibe, kisses, pet name use (?), reader is a writer!

synopsis — You accidentally become the campus’s cupid, delivering love letters to everyone— no exception to the one meant for Heeseung even though you had the biggest crush on him. When he asks for help finding his secret admirer, You scramble to keep your own feelings hidden… until you realize that love letter was your own.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I’m not sure if I like this but… I hope you guys do… guys fair warning these oneshots will be extremely corny and fluffy but its valentines month so i cant control it fr! MY FIRST HEESEUNG FIC WHO CHEERED, also happy birthday jw my baby :(

Seriously just what did you get yourself into?

The first incident or “love letter” arrived onto your doorstep on a random Wednesday. It was just a soft pink envelope sealed with a heart-shaped sticker. At first, you thought it was for you until you saw the name of the girl in your english class. Maybe someone had the wrong dorm number. But when another letter shows up the next day, and then another, you start to realize two things:

1. Someone on campus has a serious crush problem.

2. You have somehow become their personal delivery service.

By Friday, you had a whole collection of letters meant for people you barely know. With no better plan, you start slipping them into the correct mailbox, dropping them onto desks, and handing them off with a whispered, “This is for you.”

Before you know it, people started calling you the ‘Campus Cupid’.

It’s kind of fun—watching couples get together, seeing people’s eyes light up when they read something sweet. That is, until you find his letter.

Lee Heeseungs letter. The guy with the lazy smile and unfairly good hair. The guy who always seems to be exactly where you don’t need him to be. The guy you have been crushing on way more than you meant to.

It was no surprise that he would get sent a letter. He was the darling of the campus, he was a charmer, talented in sports and without a doubt extremely handsome.

You examined the letter. It was morally right to give it to him… right?

Frowning, you place the letter in his usual seat. Just because you liked him didn’t mean you can take his right of knowing that someone else does.

The day passes without you thinking too much about the letter you placed on Heeseung’s desk. Or at least, you try not to think about it. It’s not like it matters, right? Someone else likes him. No big deal.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

But then, right after your afternoon lecture, Heeseung finds you outside the lecture hall, love letter in hand.

“Hey, Cupid.” His voice is casual, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He holds up the letter between two fingers. “Any idea who wrote this?”

Your heart stops.

You stare at the letter, forcing yourself to keep calm. You knew this would happen. Of course, Heeseung would be curious. You should just tell him you don’t know. That’s what you should do.

But something about the way he’s looking at you makes you hesitate.

Frowning, you take the letter from his hands, pretending to examine it like if you hadn’t stared at it for hours before handing it to him. But when you open it and your eyes scan the page, confusion settles in.

There’s no name. No initials. Nothing.

That’s strange. Most of the letters you’ve delivered always had at least a tiny clue. An initial, a signature, sometimes even a number with a name.

“What’s with that look? You must’ve seen who gave it to you, no?” Heeseung asks, raising a brow.

You look back at the letter, skimming over the heart felt words. It was weird intruding someone’s feelings like this but with Heeseungs intense stare you couldn’t say no. The letter said:

Your stomach twists.

The handwriting. The way certain letters are slanted. The way some words are scratched out and rewritten.

It’s… familiar.

Too familiar.

Your breath catches.

Oh.

Oh no.

It was yours.

See, the first time you met Heeseung, it wasn’t in a lecture hall or at some college party—it was at a small cafe just off campus, the kind of place students flocked to for overpriced lattes and last-minute study sessions.

You had been there first, tucked into a corner seat with your laptop open and a half-empty cup of coffee beside you. The cafe was packed, the usual rush of students scrambling for caffeine before their next class, and you were too focused on your work to notice him walk in.

That is, until you heard a voice—smooth, slightly out of breath—directed at you.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

You looked up, and that was the first time you saw Lee Heeseung up close.

Messy brown hair, a hoodie thrown over a plain t-shirt, dark eyes filled with something playful yet sleepy at the same time. You recognized him vaguely—he was in one of your general electives, though he always sat near the back, half-hidden behind his laptop. He was the kind of guy people noticed without him even trying, whether it was because of his reputation on the basketball team or just the effortless way he carried himself.

And now, he was standing in front of you, waiting for an answer.

You blinked. “Oh, um—no, go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he said, sliding into the chair across from you. He set down his coffee cup, then pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages lazily. “You’re in my media studies class, right?”

You hadn’t expected him to recognize you, much less strike up a conversation.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I sit near the front.”

“Right, that’s why I never see you,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I usually get there late.”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

For some reason, that seemed to amuse him. Heeseung leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against his notebook. “So, what’s got you looking so serious? Studying for something?”

You glanced at your laptop screen. “Not exactly. Just… trying to finish an article for the campus paper.”

That caught his interest. “You write for the paper?”

“Kind of. It’s just an opinion column. Nothing major.”

Heeseung tilted his head, considering. “I’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe I’ll learn something.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel your face growing warm. Heeseung had this way of making everything sound lighthearted, but there was something about the way he was looking at you—like he actually meant it—that made your stomach flip.

You didn’t know it then, but that moment—him sitting across from you in a crowded cafe, lazily flipping through his notes while keeping light conversations, smiling at you like you were the only person worth paying attention to—that was the moment it started.

The quiet, unshakable feeling of a new beginning forming.

You blink rapidly, snapping back to reality, only to find Heeseung staring at you with a curious tilt of his head.

“You good?” He waves a hand in front of your face, and you realize you’ve been gripping the letter like it personally offended you.

“Yeah!” You blurt out, a little too quickly. “Fine. Super fine.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes, but instead of questioning your suspicious expressions, he leans against the wall next to you, arms crossed, the picture of casual confidence. “So? Any idea who my secret admirer is?”

Your stomach does a full gymnastics routine.

Yeah, actually, it’s me. Surprise!

Obviously, you can’t say that.

You force a laugh, shoving the letter back into his hands like it’s a ticking time bomb. “No clue! There are so many love letters I deal with around campus, you know? Could be anyone.”

Heeseung mockingly pouted. “Come on, Cupid. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

You freeze. Oh no.

Heeseung grins, nudging your arm playfully. “Please? be my lead detective I need to know who has this much of a crush on me.”

You stare at him, trying not to look as horrified as you feel. He’s practically pleading, eyes shining with excitement. He wants to know. He’s curious.

And you?

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

But instead, you swallow down your panic and give him your most confident, totally-not-dying-inside smile. “Yeah, sure! I’ll, uh… I’ll let you know if I figure it out.”

Great. Now you’re investigating your own love letter.

Romcoms make this look so much easier.

In your defense, the love letter was never supposed to see the light of day.

It had been one of those late-night, caffeine-fueled brain dumps—the kind where your emotions got the best of you, and instead of focusing on your essay due at midnight, you had decided, hey, why not write a dramatic love confession you’ll never actually send?

It started off as a joke. A harmless what if?

What if you had the guts to tell Heeseung how you felt?

What if you weren’t just the campus Cupid, but actually someone worth writing about?

What if, for once, you weren’t just the messenger in everyone else’s love stories?

So, you had poured your heart onto the page. You wrote about how frustrating it was, liking someone from a distance—watching him laugh in the campus café, seeing him glide effortlessly through every class, always just out of reach. You let yourself be honest, because no one was ever supposed to read it.

And then? You stuffed it into your notebook, forgot about it, and went about your life like it never happened.

Until now.

Now, it was in Heeseung’s hands just because you thought it was written by someone else, and now you were stuck in the worst romcom of all time—investigating your own love letter while trying desperately to keep your crush a secret.

Honestly?

You were so, so doomed.

“So, what do you think?”

You try to keep your face neutral as Heeseung waves the letter in front of you, looking more confused than anything.

“About… what?” You ask cautiously.

“This.” He gestures to the paper. “The letter. My so-called ‘secret admirer.’”

Your spoke before you could stop yourself. “So…you figure out who it is. What happens then?”

He thinks, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, i’ll turn them down, it’s really flattering but it’s also kind of a hassle.”

A hassle?

You force out a laugh, even as your stomach twists into knots. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Someone clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

“That’s the problem.” Heeseung exhales sharply. “I wasn’t expecting this. Im interested in someone else, and now I have to figure out how to let this person down without making things awkward.”

Your face heats up. You want to disappear.

“So, you’re not interested in them…? You like someone already?” You ask hesitantly, barely able to get the words out.

Heeseung shakes his head. “I don’t even know who they are. But I hope they don’t take it the wrong way, Y’know?”

You stare at him, pulse pounding in your ears.

He has no idea.

And now? You definitely can’t confess.

Not when you already know his answer.

And if there was one thing worse than knowing Heeseung didn’t want a relationship, it was actively helping him investigate your own confession.

Every day, he’d bring up new theories about who could’ve written the letter, and every day, you’d have to nod along, pretending to be just as clueless.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Heeseung didn’t seem to be taking it too seriously, mostly brushing it off whenever it came up. But as the days passed, something shifted… just slightly.

“Okay, so hear me out,” Heeseung said, leaning against the bookshelf beside you. The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and muffled whispers. “What if it’s someone from one of my classes?”

You kept your eyes on your laptop screen, pretending to focus on your assignment. “You already went through that theory. Twice.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking—what if they’re too nervous to say anything in person? What if it’s, like… someone who sits far away from me?”

You bit your lip. “And yet, you’re still expecting me to figure it out?”

“Well, you’re good at reading people.” Heeseung grinned, nudging your arm. “You always seem to know what’s going on with everyone.”

Your heart stuttered. If only he knew just how right he was.

Heeseung sighed, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t get it. They wrote all this deep, meaningful stuff, but they didn’t sign their name. What’s the point of confessing if you don’t want the person to know?”

You swallowed hard. “Maybe they were scared.”

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, looking at you in that way that always made you feel like he could see through you. “Scared of what?”

You hesitated. “Of ruining what they already have.”

His expression shifted. “You think they know me?”

You forced a shrug. “Probably. Why else would they write all that?”

Something flickered in his gaze, something unreadable. He held your gaze for a second too long before clearing his throat. “Huh. I never really thought about it like that.”

You turned back to your screen, desperate to focus on anything else. But then Heeseung moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned in to look at your laptop.

“What are you even working on?” he asked, voice quieter now, like the space between you had shrunk to something more intimate.

You could barely think straight. “Just… an essay.”

“Hm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

His voice was too close. His scent—clean, with a hint of something warm—was too distracting. It was stupid, so stupid, how easily he got under your skin without even trying.

The next few days started to get a little weird.

Heeseung had always been playful, always teasing and leaning in too close, but now it felt… different.

It was in the way he started remembering the little things—how you liked your coffee, how you tapped your fingers when you were thinking, how you always fixed your hair when you were nervous.

It was in the way he kept looking at you, his gaze lingering a little too long before he caught himself.

It was in the way his teasing changed—less casual, more intentional. Like he wanted to see how you’d react.

And then, one night, things got dangerous.

You were in his dorm, flipping through the list of names you had pretended to compile for the investigation. Heeseung sat on the floor beside you, his laptop balanced on his knees, absentmindedly chewing on a pen cap as he read through the letter again.

“You know…” he said, tilting his head, “whoever wrote this is actually really good with words.”

Your blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s, like… weirdly personal.” He frowned slightly, scanning the page. “I feel how much they mean it.”

You held your breath.

He let out a soft laugh. “Honestly, it kinda sounds like your writing.”

Your heart stopped.

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What?”

Heeseung blinked at you, startled. “I mean—you’re good at writing, right? I read your papers, You’ve always been good with words.”

He reads your papers?

You forced out a laugh, hoping he couldn’t hear the way your voice shook. “Right— Well, I didn’t write it, obviously.”

Heeseung studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your horror, he smirked.

“Why do you look so guilty?”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I’m literally just existing, Heeseung. Shut up.”

He laughed, but there was something behind his eyes that made your stomach flip—something like curiosity. “Stop freaking out im just kidding.”

The investigation had led you and Heeseung all over campus, following false leads, and ultimately getting nowhere. You had been walking back toward the dorms when the sky, clear just moments ago, suddenly turned gray.

And then—of course—it started to rain.

Hard.

“Are you serious?” you groaned, pulling your jacket over your head as you and Heeseung ran toward the nearest cover—a small wooden gazebo near the campus library.

You both skidded to a stop under the roof, breathless and drenched. Heeseung shook his head like a wet dog, flinging water everywhere.

“Really?” You scowled, wiping raindrops off your face.

He laughed, ruffling his already-messy hair. “My bad.”

The sound of rain drumming against the roof filled the space between you, the cool breeze making you shiver.

“Here,” Heeseung said, shrugging off his hoodie.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“You’re cold, Cupid” he pointed out, holding the hoodie out to you. “Take it.”

“I’m fine,” you said, crossing your arms.

He scoffed. “Just take it before you get sick.”

You hesitated, but he rolled his eyes and stepped closer, draping the hoodie over your shoulders himself. The warmth of it, of him, surrounded you immediately, and your breath hitched.

You looked up at him, ready to protest, but he was already watching you—his expression unreadable, the usual teasing glint in his eyes nowhere to be found.

“Why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me?” he murmured suddenly.

Your pulse spiked. “What?”

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, studying you in a way that made your stomach twist. “I don’t know. You just…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

You swallowed hard, clutching the hoodie tighter around you.

The rain kept falling around you, blurring the world outside the gazebo, making this moment feel like it existed outside of everything else—outside of reality, outside of whatever mess you had gotten yourself into.

For a split second, it felt like you weren’t just Heeseung’s reluctant investigation partner. Like you weren’t the person holding onto a secret that could ruin everything.

Like, maybe, he could actually like you back.

But then he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “We should probably wait this out before heading back.”

Just like that, the moment passed and you were left standing there in his hoodie, drowning in warmth, drowning in him, pretending you weren’t completely, helplessly falling apart.

After the rain, the campus felt quieter, the usual chatter dampened by the lingering water in the air. You walked alongside Heeseung, both of you with your hoods up, trying to shield yourselves from the leftover drizzle. It was awkward but comfortable — the kind of silence where you weren’t sure if you were supposed to talk or if it was okay just to exist in the same space.

Heeseung was the first to break it. “You know, you really don’t have to walk me all the way back to my dorm. It should be the other way around—.”

You glanced at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. You were worried about your own feelings, and now, Heeseung had a way of making your heart flutter with the smallest of gestures.

“I don’t mind,” you replied quickly, too quickly. “I just figured I should, you know… make sure you’re okay.”

Heeseung chuckled, a low sound that made you feel warm despite the cool rain. “You’re acting kind of weird. Usually, you’re so naggy. I thought I’d never see you get flustered.”

You looked away, trying to hide your face. “I’m not flustered.”

There was a brief pause as Heeseung watched you. His eyes softened, the usual teasing light in them dimming a little. “You’re not fooling me, you know.”

You slowed your pace, nervous now, your heart pounding as you tried to look calm. “I’m not trying to fool anyone.”

“I think you are,” he replied, stepping a little closer, his shoulder brushing yours as the two of you continued walking side by side.

You swallowed hard. The proximity felt different now, more charged. Your voice faltered. “What do you mean?”

Heeseung didn’t respond right away. Instead, he shifted his gaze to the ground, the rain creating ripples on the wet pavement. “It’s just… you’re always so careful with what you say. Always so in control. But sometimes… I wonder if you’re hiding something.”

Your stomach dropped at his words. You glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at you. The air between you felt heavier, and the tension seemed to stretch out longer than usual.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you murmured, even though part of you wished he could know the truth — or maybe, just maybe, that he could feel the same way.

Heeseung’s voice was quieter now, his tone almost teasing, but there was something else in it, something deeper. “Then why do you always look at me like that? Like you’re holding back?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

He finally met your eyes, his gaze intense. There was a flicker of something — was it vulnerability? — in his look. “Like you’re scared to let me in. What are you afraid of?”

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to answer. Was it possible he was starting to see through your walls?

Heeseung’s gaze softened as he noticed the look on your face, sensing something unspoken. He took a step back, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it. Forget it.”

But you couldn’t forget it. Not now. You could feel the space between the two of you shifting, the weight of his words lingering. Something was different, something had shifted, and you weren’t sure if it was just your heart racing or something more.

For the rest of the walk, neither of you spoke much. But every time your eyes met, it felt like there was a new understanding between you two — a shared secret that neither of you was ready to fully admit, but both were beginning to feel.

It had been a long day, but when you stepped out of your last class, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different. It wasn’t just the cold air or the approaching dusk; something was off, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. That was until you spotted Heeseung standing by the bench outside the library, his gaze fixed on you as if he’d been waiting for a while.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He looked at you for a moment before he spoke. “Cupid, we need to talk.”

A nervous flutter danced in your stomach, and you forced a smile. “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, stepping toward you, and you noticed the letter in his hand — the same one you’d written to him, the one that had been slipped anonymously into his mailbox just a few days ago. Your heart pounded in your chest, the realization of what was happening dawning on you.

Heeseung didn’t say anything for a moment, just held the letter between his fingers, glancing down at it. “I know this is from you,” he said quietly, his voice gentle but filled with a soft surprise. “I figured it out after I read it again.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You had hoped, prayed, that he wouldn’t find out this way. But here it was, and you couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“How… How did you know?” you asked, trying to hide the nerves creeping up your voice.

He smiled slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “A few things gave it away. The way you worded everything… It just felt like it came from you.”

“Also I found some of your notebooks while we were at your dorm and I matched the handwriting…” He blurted out.

Your heart sank. You had spent so long hoping he wouldn’t realize it was you, but now it seemed impossible to hide the truth.

“I… I’m sorry,” you said, almost embarrassed. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I just… didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

Heeseung’s expression softened. “Why would it be awkward?”

“Because I’ve liked you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it,” you admitted, looking down at your shoes. “So I thought if I wrote the letter, I could control it. But then I accidentally gave it to you and everything is just— I don’t know It was never meant to reach you.”

Heeseung’s smile widened, and something about the way he looked at you made your stomach flip. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I kind of wish you’d just told me sooner.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. “What?”

“I mean it,” he said, stepping a little closer. “I wasn’t expecting it to be you but now that I know… It’s kind of a relief. I’ve been wondering why you’ve been acting so weird around me.”

You blinked, taken aback. “I’ve been acting weird?”

Heeseung laughed softly, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. Always a little too nervous when we talk.”

You felt a wave of warmth rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to… I just…”

He took another step forward, the distance between the two of you shrinking. “You don’t need to explain. I get it.” He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours with an almost teasing glint in them. “Honestly, I’ve kind of had a feeling you liked me. You just never said it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Wait… you knew?”

He grinned. “Not for sure, but I wasn’t completely blind. I just didn’t want to make assumptions.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you felt your nerves ease a little. The tension that had been building between the two of you melted away, replaced by something lighter, something more familiar.

“So… this doesn’t make things weird?” you asked cautiously, unsure if you were reading him right. The last thing you wanted was to make things uncomfortable.

Heeseung shook his head, his smile softening. “No. Actually, I’m kind of glad. Now I don’t have to turn anyone down because I like someone else.”

Your heart raced as he closed the gap between the two of you, standing only a few inches away. He looked down at the letter in his hand, then back at you, his expression serious but warm. “I don’t think I ever really realized how much I liked you until now. I think I’ve been too caught up in my own head to notice, but hearing this from you? Yeah, I think I feel the same.”

For a moment, everything seemed to pause — the sound of people passing by, the rustling of the leaves in the breeze, even the thumping of your own heartbeat — until Heeseung’s words sank in fully. The shock of it left you speechless, and the only thing you could manage was a soft, almost breathless, “Really?”

He chuckled, the sound light and comforting. “Really. I like you too, Cupid— I mean, Y/N.”

A smile spread across your face, and you couldn’t stop it. Your heart felt lighter than it had in days, as if a weight had been lifted off your chest. You had been so afraid of how things might turn out, but now, with Heeseung standing here in front of you, it felt like everything was falling into place.

Heeseung held the letter out to you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “You know, you could’ve just told me. But I guess this works too.”

You took the letter from him, glancing down at the words you’d written once more, a smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe it was a bit dramatic. But… I was too scared to just say it. I didn’t want to mess things up.”

He reached for your hand, gently taking it in his. “You didn’t mess anything up, Cupid. You just… made everything clearer.”

And just like that, all the tension and uncertainty you’d been feeling seemed to dissolve. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. You were standing here, with Heeseung, both of you finally understanding the feelings that had been simmering for so long.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice playful again, “How about we skip the letters next time and just go for a dinner date?”

You laughed, your heart full as you squeezed his hand. “That sounds perfect.”

Heeseung smiled, his gaze soft and filled with something genuine. “Good. Let’s not wait any longer, I really want some ramen.”

And with that, the two of you walked off together, the air between you light, and the promise of something more ahead.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Dating Heeseung felt like stepping into something familiar but entirely new at the same time. The comfort of your friendship was still there—the teasing, the ease, the way you could talk about anything and everything—but now there was something softer, sweeter, laced between every interaction.

Like right now.

It was late, the two of you curled up on your dorm room floor with a half-finished pizza between you, an old playlist humming softly from your phone. The world outside felt quiet, like this moment only belonged to the two of you. Heeseung was leaning against the bed, his legs stretched out, while you were sitting cross-legged beside him, picking at the crust of your pizza slice.

His hand, which had been resting casually near yours, suddenly slid closer, his fingers tracing the tips of yours absentmindedly. It was such a simple thing, but it sent a shiver up your spine nonetheless.

“So,” Heeseung started, voice slow and teasing. “How’s it feel? Finally dating the guy of your dreams?”

You rolled your eyes, already knowing where this was going. “You’re impossible.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning his head back against the bed. “No, but really. You had a crush on me for so long, and now look at us.” His fingers fully laced with yours now, his touch warm and effortless.

“I wouldn’t say I had a crush that long,” you mumbled, taking a sip of your drink to avoid looking at him.

“Are you kidding? You literally wrote me a love letter.”

Your face burned. “Okay, one letter—”

“One?” Heeseung gasped dramatically, sitting up and turning toward you. “So you’re telling me there aren’t, like, ten versions of that letter somewhere in your notes app?”

You choked. “There absolutely are not.”

“Oh my god.” He laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “There are. You rewrote it a bunch of times, didn’t you?”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I am not having this conversation.”

Heeseung was grinning now, having way too much fun at your expense. He reached over, gently prying your hands from your face. “No, no, let’s talk about it. Tell me, how long did it take you to get the perfect wording? Did you, like, pace around your room dramatically?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “For your information, I wasn’t that dramatic.”

Heeseung smirked. “Mhm. So you didn’t dramatically sigh and go, ‘No, this isn’t right, I need to capture his essence’?”

You picked up a stray piece of crust and chucked it at him. He dodged it easily, laughing as he caught your wrist, pulling you toward him slightly.

“You’re the worst,” you mumbled, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

Heeseung was still grinning, his fingers now playing with yours absentmindedly. “You love it.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I really don’t.”

“You do,” he countered, tugging you even closer until you were practically pressed against his side. His voice dropped, softer now, almost teasing in a different way. “Did you mean everything you said in that letter?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “What if I did?”

Heeseung tilted his head, his gaze locked onto yours, and suddenly, the playful atmosphere melted into something else—something quieter, more intense.

“Then,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles, “I’d tell you that I think about it a lot.”

You blinked. “You do?”

Heeseung nodded, his expression unusually serious now. “I mean, do you even realize how… nice it is to know someone felt that way about me? And not just anyone—you.” He exhaled, his lips curling into something softer, more affectionate. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when I first read it, before I even knew it was from you, I remember thinking… whoever wrote this really cares about me.”

Your heart was thudding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“And then,” he continued, “when I found out it was you? It just… it all made sense.”

Your breath hitched slightly. “It did?”

Heeseung hummed in response.

“You’ve always been there,” he said softly. “I just didn’t realize how much I wanted you to be closer.”

You felt your throat tighten, emotion bubbling up in your chest, but before you could even think of a response, Heeseung leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against yours.

His eyes flickered to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again, as if silently asking permission.

You didn’t need to think twice.

Closing the small distance between you, you kissed him.

It was soft, slow—like both of you were still memorizing the feeling. Heeseung sighed against your lips, his hand sliding to your jaw, tilting your face toward him just slightly.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and heart pounding, Heeseung smiled, his forehead still pressed to yours.

“So,” he murmured, eyes twinkling, “if I ask you nicely, do I get to read those other drafts of the letter?”

You groaned, shoving him away playfully. “Absolutely not.”

Heeseung only laughed, pulling you back into his arms with ease. “Fine, fine. But at least let me know—was I always this irresistible in them?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Shut up, Heeseung.”

He grinned, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “Love you too.”

Series Taglist —

@saphiranishimurashan @m1kkso @taesanoreohair @elairah @baribaaari @letwiiparkjay @jellyluv4eva @mbsnow @moontyun @manuosorioh

- if you weren’t tagged you need to fix your visibility!

“You’ve always been there,” he said softly. “I just didn’t realize how much I wanted you to be closer.” MY HEART??? u know when a fic is so well-written, u keep smashing the heart button as you’re reading it? me. the whole time

jake for tiffanyandco

STRICTLY PROFESSIONAL ⌇ 패션

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ Rich/celebrity au!, suggestive content, arrogant reader and jake, make out scene, cussing, fluff, smidge of angst, lots of bickering, heeseung is a asshole, reader is a fashion designer, use of petnames.

synopsis — everyone knew who you were. young, successful, talented and most notorious man eater. you enjoyed the games you played with men but it got complicated quickly when you played it with jake. fashion scenes golden boy.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊oh my god this took so long to write, anyways I hope you guys like it fr! Idk if I like it yet but the bathtub scene 👅👅 good lord. Ima fully check this tmr so sorry for any grammar mistakes!

The night was still young, the air thick with the hum of conversation and the distant clink of champagne glasses. You moved through the grand hall like you belonged there—because you did. Every glance that followed you, every murmured whisper in your wake, only served to remind you of the power you held.

Any other woman might claim to hate these kinds of events, the forced pleasantries, the exhausting game of charm and deception. But you? You thrived in it. You loved the way the room seemed to orbit around you, the way men tripped over themselves just for a second of your attention.

And yet, there was one thing you couldn’t stand. The desperate ones. The men who thought a well-tailored suit and a glass of overpriced bourbon made them worthy of you. As one of them slid a hand around your waist, his touch sensual and unwelcome, you scoffed, effortlessly slipping from his grasp without a second thought.

They never learned.

This was your reputation—the untouchable, the unattainable, the woman they all wanted but none could ever truly have.

But amid the usual sea of admirers, there was one man who didn’t make a move. He didn’t approach, didn’t try his luck. He simply watched, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. You barely gave him a second thought. Another coward, too afraid to step up.

Or so you thought.

“Having fun?” Heeseung asked, swirling the whiskey in his glass before taking a slow sip.

Jake hummed, his eyes still locked on you. “You could say that.”

Heeseung followed his gaze, his lips quirking up the moment he realized who had captured his friend’s attention. Then, he burst out laughing.

Jake raised a brow. “What’s so funny?”

Heeseung shook his head, still amused. “Her? No way. I’d switch targets now if I were you.”

Jake’s curiosity piqued. “Why? She got a man or something?”

“The opposite, actually.” Heeseung smirked, setting his drink down. “She’s a man-eater. Every guy in this room has wanted a piece of her at some point.”

Jake laughed, leaning back in his chair. “What, you trying to scare me off ‘cause you want her?”

Heeseung grinned. “More like trying to save you from embarrassment, man. She even rejected me, and that says something.”

Jake scoffed. “Egotistical bastard. Anyway, she doesn’t even know me. Why don’t I give it a shot?”

Heeseung let out a short chuckle and glanced at the others. With a simple nod, three more men joined the conversation—Sunghoon, Jay, and Sunoo.

“What’s up?” Sunoo asked, adjusting his collar.

Heeseung gestured toward you with his glass. “Jake has eyes on Y/N.”

Jay nearly choked on his drink. “Oh, hell no. Yeah, good luck, man.”

Jake scoffed. “You guys act like I’m not charming and rich.”

Sunghoon smirked. “Listen, if none of us even got as much as a kiss from that woman, you definitely can’t.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “So, you all think I can’t pull? Alright, then. Watch me.” He pushed back his chair and stood up, adjusting his cuffs before striding toward you with confidence.

The group watched in amused silence.

“Anyone busy tonight?” Heeseung asked after a beat.

“No,” they all replied in unison.

“Good,” Heeseung said, taking another sip of his drink. “Because that man is going to come back crying.”

As Jake strode toward you, you noticed him instantly—without even needing to spare him a glance. Finally. The man who had been eyeing you all night had mustered up the nerve to approach. Not that it would make any difference. You can just tell you wont be interested.

It’s just a game to you.

Clearing his throat, he smoothly excused himself into your conversation. The men surrounding you shot him warning glances, but he ignored them, his attention solely on you.

You didn’t even hesitate. With a polite smile, you excused yourself from them and turned to face Jake fully, flashing him the kind of grin that had men falling to their knees.

Too easy.

Jake took that as a good sign. See? She’s already giving such a pretty smile. How hard could this be?

“I’ve been meaning to introduce myself,” he began smoothly, holding out a hand, ready to bring yours to his lips. “My name is Sim Jaeyun, but the people I like to keep close—like you—call me Jake.”

You didn’t give him your hand.

Instead, you tilted your head slightly, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Delighted to meet you, Mr. Sim.”

Jake barely managed to mask his surprise as he quickly withdrew his hand. So, the gentleman act wasn’t going to cut it. Fine. He could adapt.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman here tonight,” he charmed, his voice dripping with confidence. “Where’s that dress from? It works wonders on you.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve been told,” you said airily, before letting the real dagger sink in. “And this dress? It’s from me.”

Jake blinked. “From you?”

You smirked. “Yes. I made it.”

It took him a second, but then it clicked. Shit.

Realization dawned in his eyes. He knew now exactly who you were.

You leaned in slightly, your voice silky smooth. “Tell me, Mr. Sim… do you always fail to research the women you approach or did you just underestimate me?”

Jake swallowed. “I—uhm—”

Before he could recover, your hands were on him. A slow, deliberate caress up his shoulder, your fingers threading behind his neck. He stiffened, caught between the intoxicating warmth of your touch and the sharp edge in your voice.

“See, it’s men like you I hate the most…” you murmured, voice soft but laced with venom.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your lips curling in amusement.

“Uneducated.”

And just like that, you turned on your heel.

Jake stood frozen for a moment, trying to process how the conversation had flipped so fast.

Then, from across the room—laughter.

He turned just in time to see Heeseung and the others, barely containing their amusement.

Yeah. No. This wasn’t over.

Jake straightened his shoulders, running a hand through his hair.

If you thought that was the last time you’d be seeing him tonight… you had another thing coming.

After realizing who you were, he knew he needed a lot more than just a prince act to get to you.

Y/N, the youngest successful fashion designer in the country. Your creative silk dresses and outlandish designs shot you straight to the top, allowing you to build your own designer store and amass a massive fortune.

He regretted not researching you beforehand, but to be fair, you didn’t really advertise yourself—just your million-dollar merchandise.

But his greatest mistake was also his biggest opportunity. Jake and his friends just so happened to be ambassadors for your company, and from the looks of it, fashion was the only way to get to you.

As their car pulled up to the photoshoot, Jake grew more nervous. He had already landed himself in the deep end with you, and he had only a vague idea of how to get out. But you? You were a total wildcard.

Jake huffed as he stepped out of the car.

“What’s your problem?” Heeseung asked, walking beside him.

Sunoo smirked, approaching as well. “He’s still trying to woo Y/N.”

Heeseung laughed. “No way! After that shitshow last night? You’re either ballsy or crazy.”

Jake shook his head. “Whatever, I’ll figure it out.”

As they walked in, the photoshoot was already set up. Props were on display, cameras were being tested, and the staff bustled around. Jake scanned the room for you, but you hadn’t arrived yet.

Sunoo clapped his hands as he admired the lavish outfits they’d be wearing. Jake had to admit—you were talented.

The sudden bang of doors flying open caught everyone’s attention.

You walked in, dressed in comfortable yet stylish clothes that hugged you in all the right places. Jake could finally see what everyone had been talking about. You knew how to get eyes on you.

“Cameras, props, and lights ready?” you called out, hands on your waist.

The staff confirmed, and you turned to face the group. One by one, you examined each member calling them out with their valuable features—Sunoo’s alluring figure, Jay’s strong jawline, Sunghoon’s thick eyebrows, Heeseung’s plump lips… and then you paused when you got to Jake.

“Mr. Sim, I didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, grinning as you looked him up and down.

Jake let out a short laugh. “Didn’t know I was one of the ambassadors? I’m hurt.”

You hummed, circling him, trying to pinpoint a striking physical feature that could be useful. But for the first time, nothing came to mind.

“Anyway, let’s continue. Sunoo is first,” you said, brushing past him.

Jake scoffed slightly. It was a small thing, really. But for some reason, the fact that you didn’t highlight anything about him bothered him more than it should have.

He watched as you guided Sunoo through your envisioned concept, your passion evident in every direction you gave. Sunoo followed your cues effortlessly, showcasing the designs exactly as you intended.

One by one, each member had their turn, and every shot looked incredible—each outfit tailored perfectly to their features.

Then, it was Jake’s turn.

You stood in front of the wardrobe, flipping through the options. To be honest, it was frustrating. You had instantly known what worked for everyone else, but for Jake… you were stumped.

You turned around, squinting at him, taking him in. He sat there watching you, his throat going dry as you slowly walked closer.

Then, without warning, you reached out and tilted his chin up.

Jake stiffened.

You studied him, and suddenly, it clicked.

His big, expressive puppy eyes. His soft, round lips. The way he looked almost desperate and vulnerable.

…He looked so good like this.

You laughed to yourself, turning to the wardrobe and pulling out a sleek black suit.

You knew exactly how to take advantage of Sim Jaeyun.

You bitterly laughed as you scrolled through the articles. Of course, you had an eye for things like this.

The internet was in an uproar over Jake’s part of the photoshoot—but in a good way.

The concept was striking. The camera was angled just above him, catching the sharp contrast of light against his desperate, pleading eyes. His lips were slightly parted, pouty in a way that almost begged to be kissed. His shirt hung open just enough to tease, showing only a sliver of skin, while the veins along his arms stood out, practically begging for attention.

You coughed, shaking the thoughts from your head.

Shoving the distraction aside, you sat at your desk, fingers gripping your pencil as you stared at the blank sketchpad before you. Normally, this was the easy part—designs came to you like second nature. But today? Nothing.

Your eyes wandered the room, searching for something—anything—to spark creativity. And then they landed on the stack of freshly printed photos from Jake’s shoot.

It was like a lightbulb flicked on above your head. Thoughts started forming and it was like the cogs in your brain started turning.

You needed a meeting with him. Now.

It took some effort to track him down, but after a few well-placed calls, you discovered he was at a celebration party for one of his many sponsors. A big shot, was he? You scoffed, feeling a twinge of irritation crawl under your skin. No—why did he irritate you so much?

Your sleek, high-end car pulled up to the entrance, drawing the attention of reporters and guests alike. Ignoring their murmurs, you strode inside, brushing past the glittering crowd. The party was far livelier than the ones you typically attended, but you paid it no mind. Your focus was solely on one person.

Jake.

He was easy to spot, standing in the center of the room with a glass in his hand and a woman draped over his arm. She was laughing at something he said, tilting her head flirtatiously.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes before marching toward him.

At first, he didn’t notice, too caught up in whatever meaningless conversation he was entertaining. But then he picked up on the shift in the room—the way heads turned, whispers spreading like wildfire. His gaze finally landed on you, surprise flickering across his face.

What the hell were you doing here?

“Hello, Sim,” you greeted, your voice laced with amusement. “Having fun?”

Jake blinked, momentarily thrown off. The woman at his side tightened her grip, glaring at you as if trying to stake her claim.

You gave her a quick once-over before arching a brow. “Please. If you’re going to try and mark your territory, at least put some effort into that outfit of yours.”

She gasped, her face burning red before she spun on her heel and stormed off.

Jake smirked as he watched her leave, then turned his attention back to you. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“In your dreams,” you shot back. “I need you to come with me. It’s urgent.”

His brows lifted, a slow grin curling his lips as he leaned in slightly, his voice dipping into something lower, teasing. “Need me that bad, huh baby?”

Your face flamed, and you immediately shoved his shoulder. “That’s not what I meant—ugh! I’m requesting a conversation. Over dinner.”

Jake tilted his head, studying you. He wasn’t sure what this was about, but the fact that you were suddenly giving him attention? Maybe it was for the big success with his contribution to the magazine. Whatever it was, He wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity.

“Alright,” he drawled. “Taking me out to eat before the fun stuff—how classy.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the exit. He let you, a smirk never leaving his face as he trailed behind you.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet. You stared out the window, lost in thought, while Jake stole subtle glances at you. You were always like this—so effortlessly captivating, playing hard to get like it was second nature. He didn’t mind. The chase made it all the more fun.

When the car finally rolled to a stop, Jake glanced out the window, his brows raising slightly. The restaurant was high-end, even by his standards. You didn’t just pick a fancy place—you picked the fancy place.

“You really like showing off, don’t you?” he mused, stepping out after you.

The moment you entered, the security barely even glanced at you before letting you through. Jake, on the other hand, was stopped immediately.

You turned back, giving him a slow smirk.

“He’s with me,” you said simply.

That was all it took. The guard stepped aside without another word, and Jake scoffed, shaking his head as he followed you in.

You were led to a private, reserved area on the rooftop, where the city stretched out in a breathtaking view. The soft glow of lights flickered over your face, casting delicate shadows. Jake had to admit—you looked stunning.

After placing your orders, silence settled between you. Jake swirled his wine glass, watching you over the rim.

“So,” he finally said, breaking the quiet, “why do I have the honor of your presence tonight, Y/N?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim.” You exhaled, looking away for a moment before leaning back. “Do you know how I built my brand?”

Jake raised a brow. “Hard work I would presume?”

You let out a quiet laugh. “A muse,” you corrected. “Every artist needs one. And mine… has grown dull.”

He frowned slightly, trying to decipher where this was going. “And?”

Your gaze locked onto his, unwavering. “Lucky for you, I seem to find creative inspiration just by looking at you.”

The words hung in the air, thick with meaning. Jake stared at you, and for once, he didn’t have a teasing remark locked and loaded.

Because you weren’t joking.

You had come all this way, pulled him out of a party, taken him to an extravagant dinner— not for some business deal, but because you needed him.

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as a slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “Didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You sighed, already regretting saying anything. “It’s strictly professional, Sim.”

“Sure it is.”

His eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was something else there too—something unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, studying you the way you had been studying him all night.

Finally, he set his glass down and smirked. “Alright, Y/N. I’ll be your muse.”

You arched a brow. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” His voice dropped into something quieter, more serious. “But don’t think for a second that this is a one-sided deal.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jake leaned in ever so slightly, his smirk never wavering.

“You need inspiration,” he said. “And I need you.”

Your breath hitched.

Jake leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he swirled the wine in his glass. His eyes never left yours, watching your reaction with amusement.

“Go on one date with me,” he said smoothly, tilting his head slightly. “And I’m all yours.”

You stared at him, blinking once. Then twice.

And then, you burst into laughter. A real, full laugh that made your shoulders shake as you leaned back in your chair.

Jake didn’t say anything—he just sat there, watching you with an unreadable expression. Not smug. Not teasing. Just… watching.

When your laughter finally died down, you exhaled and shook your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jake simply raised a brow.

“So, you’re serious?” you asked, searching his face for any sign of a joke. “Just one date? No money? No sexual favors?”

His lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Yep. One night. Let me have you on my arm for a few hours, and after that…” He shrugged. “I’m all yours.”

You grumbled at the thought. The idea of entertaining a man—even for one night for something as useless as a date—made you want to roll your eyes into another dimension. But you really, really needed Jake. His presence alone had sparked something in you. God, you hated when a man had the upper hand.

You sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine. One date. That’s all.” You narrowed your eyes. “And then you’re mine.”

Jake chuckled, resting his chin in his palm as he gazed at you, a lazy sort of amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Yes,” he murmured. “All yours.”

And for some reason, the way he said it made your stomach flip.

The deal was set. One date. That was all.

You repeated that to yourself as you adjusted your outfit, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles while glancing at your reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t like you cared how you looked for Jake Sim. It was just… appearances. You had a reputation to maintain.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Your assistant peeked in, looking a little too amused.

“He’s here,” they said.

With one last deep breath, you grabbed your clutch and headed out.

Jake was waiting outside, leaning casually against his car—a sleek black luxury vehicle that, of course, fit his whole charming celebrity persona perfectly. He looked effortless in his suit, his hair styled just the right amount of messy, like he’d barely tried but still somehow managed to look good.

The worst part? He probably hadn’t tried.

His gaze flickered over you, and his smirk grew. “Well, damn,” he murmured, pushing off the car. “If I knew you were gonna look this good, I would’ve asked for two dates.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Not happening.”

He chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “We’ll see.”

You slid in without another word, and the moment he settled into the driver’s seat, the engine purred to life.

“So,” you said, crossing your arms. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

Jake grinned as he pulled out onto the road. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You narrowed your eyes. “If this is some cliché rooftop dinner setup, I’m leaving.”

He laughed. “No trust in me at all, huh?”

“Not even a little.”

Jake shook his head, amused. “Guess I’ll just have to change that.”

It wasn’t a rooftop dinner.

It wasn’t a fancy five-star restaurant, either.

Instead, twenty minutes later, you found yourself in the passenger seat of Jake Sim’s car as he pulled into a bustling night market on the outskirts of the city. The place was alive—bright, colorful lights hanging between stalls, the air thick with the scent of grilled food, fried snacks, and sweet desserts.

You blinked. This was… not what you expected.

Jake shot you a sideways glance, catching your surprise. “What?” he teased. “Thought I was gonna wine and dine you in some overpriced restaurant?”

You turned to him, arching a brow. “…Yes.”

He smirked. “See? You underestimated me too much.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t underestimate anything.”

Jake hummed, clearly not convinced.

Before you could protest further, he was already getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door for you. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “Let’s get something to eat.”

You hesitated before ignoring his hand and stepping out on your own. Jake chuckled under his breath but didn’t push it.

The market was buzzing with energy. Neon lights flashed, the sound of sizzling food filled the air, and people bustled past in happy chatter. You followed Jake as he navigated through the stalls with ease, stopping at a particular vendor selling tteokbokki.

“Spicy?” he asked, glancing at you.

You shrugged. “I can handle it.”

Jake smirked like he didn’t believe you but ordered anyway. When he handed you the steaming bowl of rice cakes drenched in spicy sauce, you took a bite without hesitation.

And instantly regretted it.

Your mouth burned.

You coughed, eyes watering as you tried to keep your expression neutral. Jake, of course, was watching you with way too much amusement.

“You good?” he asked, clearly holding back laughter.

You swallowed, forcing a nod. “Shit—Totally.”

Jake snorted before handing you a drink. “Don’t act tough.” He said with a laugh.

“I’m not acting tough,” you shot back, gulping down the drink. “I just—”

“Don’t want to look vulnerable?”

You glared at him, which only made him grin. He slowly had you figured out.

The rest of the night went like that—Jake teasing you, you pretending to be unaffected, and somehow, between all of it, you… actually started to enjoy yourself.

He dragged you to different stalls, making you try every snack he claimed was the best. He somehow convinced you to play one of those rigged carnival games, and when you failed miserably, he swooped in with that cocky confidence of his and won a stuffed bear in one try.

“For you,” he said, handing it over with a wink.

You scoffed, snatching it from his hands. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love it.”

You didn’t. Well, maybe you didn’t hate it as much as you wanted to.

Hours passed without you realizing.

By the time you both made your way back to the car, the market had quieted down, the crowd thinning as the night stretched on. You hugged the stuffed bear to your chest, glancing at Jake as he walked beside you, hands tucked in his pockets.

“I’ll admit,” you said after a beat. “This was… decent.”

Jake smirked. “High praise coming from you.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He glanced down at where you touched him before tilting his head at you, something softer lingering in his gaze. “You know,” he said, voice quieter now. “You’re different when you’re not trying to impress.”

You stiffened slightly. “I’m not—”

“You are.” He smiled a little.

You quickly looked away, tightening your grip on the stuffed bear. “Don’t overthink it, It’s just one date.”

Jake hummed. “Just one.”

You didn’t like the way he said that. Like he knew something you didn’t.

Like he knew that one date wasn’t going to be enough.

The ride back was quieter than before. Not in a bad way—just… different. The playful teasing from earlier had faded into something heavier, something unspoken hanging in the air between you.

Jake was focused on the road, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rested lazily on the gear shift. You, on the other hand, sat with your arms crossed, staring out the window, pretending you weren’t acutely aware of every little movement he made.

It didn’t help that the car felt smaller than it actually was. Or maybe it was just the way he’d glance at you every now and then, his lips quirking up like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

At one point, he exhaled a small chuckle. “You’re quiet.”

You turned your head slightly but didn’t meet his gaze. “So?”

Jake hummed, his fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel. “Just not used to it. Usually, you’re too busy trying to put me in my place.”

You finally looked at him. “Trust me, I still could.”

“Oh, I know,” he murmured, eyes flickering to yours before returning to the road. “But that’s not what’s happening right now, is it?”

You opened your mouth to retort but hesitated.

Because he was right.

And that was irritating.

The rest of the ride passed with that same unbearable tension, neither of you saying much, but the energy thick enough to cut with a knife. Every second felt stretched, every brush of his fingers against the wheel, every shift in his seat, every subtle glance your way felt charged.

When he finally pulled up in front of your place, you should’ve gotten out immediately. You should’ve thanked him—maybe given him a sarcastic remark for good measure—and left it at that.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you hesitated.

Your fingers clenched around the stuffed bear in your lap as you turned to face him. Jake was already watching you, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something else.

And before you could talk yourself out of it, you blurted, “Come inside.”

Jake blinked. “What?”

You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “For a photoshoot.”

His lips twitched. “At—” he glanced at the clock on the dashboard “—midnight?”

You lifted your chin. “You said you were my muse now, right? I just got an idea. Unless you’re scared of a little late-night work.”

Jake’s smirk deepened, like he could see right through you. “You really suck at making excuses, you know that?”

“Are you coming or not, Sim?”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head before turning off the car. “Lead the way, boss.”

The moment you stepped inside, the energy shifted again.

Your place was modern yet warm—high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, designer furniture, and mood lighting that cast a soft glow over everything. Jake took it all in as he followed you inside, hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“So,” he mused, scanning the room, “where’s the magic gonna happen?”

You rolled your eyes at his choice of words but ignored it, grabbing your camera from the shelf. “In there,” you said, motioning toward the bathroom as you both walked in.

Jake raised a brow as he watched you adjust the settings. “Straight to business?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered, but even you knew it wasn’t convincing.

He stepped closer, just enough that you felt the heat of his presence. “Whats the plan?”

Your fingers grazed over the camera button as you eyed him without hiding.

Your jaw clenched. You inhaled sharply. Then, without missing a beat, you lifted the camera and snapped a photo right in his face.

Jake blinked at the flash.

You smirked, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. “Take off your suit—leave the button-up—and get in the bathtub.”

Jake froze, his brows lifting slightly. He looked at you like he was trying to figure out if you were serious. But for once, he didn’t argue, didn’t throw a cocky remark your way.

Instead, he simply exhaled, loosened his tie, and shrugged off his suit jacket. His fingers made quick work of his cufflinks before rolling up the sleeves of his already damp button-up. With an unreadable expression, he stepped into the tub, settling against the porcelain with his arms resting along the edges, looking like a king on his throne. His shirt, already slightly undone from earlier, clung to his chest, teasing glimpses of toned skin beneath the fabric.

You hummed, pleased with how naturally he fit into the scene. Lifting the shower head, you turned on the water.

Jake yelped.

“Hey—shit, that’s cold!“ He recoiled, hands shooting up to shield himself from the icy stream.

You grinned mischievously. “Oops. Sorry, princess.”

Jake groaned, dragging a wet hand down his face. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

You only smirked as you adjusted the temperature, letting the water run warm. He exhaled, relaxing under the heat, though you could tell he was still a little wary.

The camera flashed.

Jake’s eyes snapped to yours. “Seriously?”

“That’s it,” you murmured, tilting the lens as you took another shot. “Just relax. You look better when you stop overthinking.”

Something shifted in his expression. His shoulders eased, his body sinking further into the tub as he let go of whatever was running through his mind. The water streamed over him, drenching his shirt completely, making the fabric cling to his torso like a second skin. His hair, already a mess from the rain earlier, now fell over his eyes, strands curling slightly from the dampness.

You almost let yourself admire him.

Almost.

He looked like something out of a luxury ad—lazily elegant, frustratingly attractive, like sin wrapped in silk. He was a glass of dark wine, the kind that burned just enough to keep you coming back for another sip.

But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying that out loud.

Instead, you inched closer, adjusting the focus to capture his eyes. He had the prettiest, prettiest boba eyes—deep and dark, framed by long lashes, almost too soft for someone who loved to tease you so relentlessly.

But something wasn’t clicking. The shot wasn’t right. You frowned, turning off the water to get a better angle, hovering slightly over him in concentration.

Jake watched you past the lens, amusement dancing in his gaze as you pouted in frustration.

“You look cute when you’re trying too hard,” he mused.

You barely had time to process his words before—

Splash.

A gasp tore from your lips as you were suddenly yanked forward, water soaking through your clothes in an instant. Your knees landed on either side of Jake’s lap, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. Your body pressed against his, and the realization hit you way too late.

The camera slipped from your hands, landing with a soft clunk on the dry edge of the tub.

“You—”

But you froze.

Because holy shit.

His hair was a dripping mess, strands falling into his eyes, water trickling down his temples. His lips were slightly parted, breath shallow, chest rising and falling beneath the soaked fabric of his shirt. But it wasn’t that.

It was his eyes. Those eyes.

Gone was the teasing glint, the ever-present mischief. Instead, they were dark, hooded—pleading.

Exactly what you were looking for earlier.

But with something deeper. Something unspoken. It expressed something his mouth couldn’t say.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, like he was waiting. Like he was testing to see if you’d pull away.

The only sound in the room was the slow, rhythmic dripping of water and the soft, uneven breaths between you both.

Neither of you moved.

Because if you did, if either of you so much as shifted—

You both knew what would happen next.

Jake exhaled shakily, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. Then, voice barely above a whisper, he muttered, “You gonna do something? Because this is killing me.”

Your throat went dry.

“Jake…”

The second his name left your lips—soft, breathless, uncertain—his fingers flexed against your waist, and something in his eyes snapped.

His jaw clenched. His chest rose sharply as he exhaled through his nose, his grip just a fraction tighter, just enough for you to feel the tension between you crackle like a live wire.

“…Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Without another second to hesitate, his lips crashed onto yours.

A sharp inhale left you as your eyes widened in surprise, but the warmth of his mouth, the way he moved against you so effortlessly, erased any thoughts of pulling away. Your lashes fluttered shut, that little voice in your head telling you to stop quickly drowned out by the sheer pleasure of it all.

Jake kissed you like he had been starving for this—like he had been waiting too long, and now that he had you, he wasn’t going to waste another second. His hands roamed along your back, gripping, exploring, pulling you closer as if he needed you to be right there against him. Your own hands weren’t still either—fingers moving with urgency, working on the buttons of his soaked shirt, pushing the fabric away in greedy desperation.

The wet material slid off his shoulders, discarded somewhere to the side. And then—God—your hands were on him. Palms dragging down the expanse of his torso, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

Jake sighed into your mouth at the sensation, his breath warm, his body reacting to you just as much as yours was to him.

Your heart was practically pounding. What was he doing to you? You’d played this game before, teased and flirted, danced along the edge of something dangerous—but never like this. Never this raw. Never this vulnerable.

He moved before you could even process it. His hands slid up, fingers weaving into your hair as he shifted you—one second, you were on his lap, the next, you were lying beneath him, water still clinging to both of you.

Jake didn’t hesitate.

His lips left yours only to trail across your jaw, down your neck, to the sensitive dip between your collarbones. He kissed like he was memorizing you, like he wanted to leave a mark in places no one else had ever dared to touch. You sighed at the feeling, your hands slipping up into his damp hair, fingers tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin.

It was intoxicating. The weight of him, the heat of his breath, the way his lips moved against your skin as if he owned you.

Then— Jake stilled.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes flickering over your face. A sharp inhale filled his chest as he took you in—the way you were watching him, the way your lips were parted, the unhidden hunger in your gaze.

Damn.

You looked like you were ready to devour him.

For a moment, he just stared—like he was trying to brand this image into his brain, like he needed to convince himself that this was real.

Then, with a smirk, he leaned in, lips brushing over your ear as he whispered, “Strictly professional, huh?.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering through your desire-hazed mind when he pulled away completely. Jake stood, stepping out of the tub before holding a hand out for you. You took it, letting him pull you up. Water dripped from both of you as you steadied yourself, but your fingers clung to his forearm, your lips slightly parted in silent protest.

Your expression must have given you away because he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Relax,” he mused, tugging you flush against him. “I just wanted to take you to your bedroom—unless you want to do this right here?”

His voice was laced with amusement, but there was something darker beneath it. A challenge. A temptation.

And the way his fingers slowly dragged down your waist, the heat behind his gaze, the way his lips barely ghosted over yours without fully kissing you—

He knew exactly what he was doing.

The warm sunlight streaming through the window pulled you from your sleep, making you groan as your limbs ached from exhaustion. Every movement sent a dull throb through your muscles, a reminder of exactly what had happened last night.

You raised your hand to rub your temple, only to pause when your fingers brushed against something—small, dark bruises dotting your skin.

That jerk.

A lazy smirk tugged at your lips before you turned over, reaching instinctively toward his side of the bed, only to be met with cold sheets. Your stomach twisted.

Your first thought was that maybe he had just gotten up early. But then, the silence in the room became deafening, an eerie reminder of how alone you were.

Your chest tightened, but before the feeling could settle, you noticed the faint glow of light coming from the bathroom.

Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived.

As you moved closer, the sound of his voice—muffled but unmistakable—reached your ears.

You hesitated. Something in you told you to go back, to not listen. But your curiosity, your need to know, got the better of you.

And that’s when you heard it.

“Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I should just get out of here before she wakes up, right?”

Your breath hitched.

Your heart didn’t just drop—it shattered.

Mistake.

Was that all last night was to him?

A mistake?

The one man you had allowed past your carefully built walls, the one man you let touch you in ways no one else had, was now talking about leaving before you even woke up.

Your hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into your palm to fight the sting in your eyes. No. No way in hell were you going to sit here and mope about this.

If this was a mistake to him, then it was a mistake to you too.

You turned sharply on your heel, biting down the lump in your throat as you moved quickly to get dressed.

You weren’t going to wait around for him to leave first.

From Jake’s perspective, he woke up to the soft vibration of his phone on the nightstand beside him. Groggily, he turned over, his eyes immediately landing on you—curled up beside him, your arm draped over his waist. You looked so peaceful, your breath steady, your grip on him light but firm.

His heart fluttered at the sight.

With a quiet groan, he reached for his phone, squinting at the screen to see Heeseung flashing across the caller ID.

He sighed before accepting the call.

“Hey,” he whispered, carefully shifting out of your hold so he wouldn’t wake you. Slipping into the bathroom, he shut the door behind him. “What do you want?”

“Yo, I haven’t heard from you since the party. What’s up with you?”

Jake glanced back at the bed through the cracked door before lowering his voice. “I’m at Y/N’s place.”

Silence.

Then, a loud yelp from Heeseung made Jake wince. “What?! Y/N? No way—did you guys—?”

Jake smirked. “Yes. Maybe—we did.”

Heeseung let out a hum of approval. “Damn. Someone finally got to her. Congratulations, man. We should celebrate tonight.”

Jake scoffed. “It’s not like that, Hee.”

Heeseung frowned on the other end. “Wait… you mean you’re actually trying to make something out of this?” A dry laugh followed. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

Jake’s stomach tightened. “What do you mean? I thought—”

“Exactly. You thought.” Heeseung let out a sigh. “I already told you who she is. A man-eater, Jake. If you weren’t at her place right now, she probably would’ve disappeared before you even woke up.”

Jake swallowed hard.

It had taken a long time to get through to you—everyone knew that. But last night felt different. He wasn’t imagining that… right?

“Listen,” Heeseung continued, his voice laced with amusement, “if I were you, I’d take the good fuck and get out of there before she hurts your feelings.”

Jake’s grip on his phone tightened.

“Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I should just get out of here before she wakes up, right?”

Then, before Heeseung could add anything else, a new voice cut in.

“Don’t listen to that player.”

Jake blinked as Jay snatched the phone away from Heeseung.

Jay shot his friend an unimpressed look before putting the phone to his ear. “If things actually seem like it’ll go good between you two, then go for it.”

Jake exhaled, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. “You think so?”

“Yes. Don’t come crying to us later saying you fumbled.”

Jake let out a short laugh, finally smiling again. “Alright. See you later.”

Hanging up, he set his phone down on the sink and glanced at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand through his messy hair, wincing slightly as a sting shot across his back.

Curious, he turned his body slightly and craned his neck to check—only to see deep, red nail marks trailing down his skin.

A laugh rumbled from his chest.

That was definitely your handiwork.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Another thought crossed his mind, he shouldn’t have listened to Heeseung.

Sure, You had a reputation—everyone knew that. But you weren’t just some girl to him. Last night wasn’t just about the physical.

He had seen the way you softened under his touch. The way you looked at him like he was more than just some guy you had picked for the night.

He wasn’t an idiot. He had felt it.

And yet, for a split second, Heeseung’s words had gotten into his head, making him doubt everything.

Jake stepped out of the bathroom with a light smile, now going back to chuckling at the sight of the nail marks on his back. But as he looked around, his smile slowly faded.

The bed was empty.

The sheets, once messy from the night before, were now slightly straightened—like someone had hastily tried to fix them before leaving. His heart sank.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice hesitant.

Silence.

His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of you—your clothes, your phone, something. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the closet door slightly ajar. He walked over, tugging it open. Empty.

Jake’s stomach twisted.

You were gone.

His mind raced as he reached for his phone, but before he could dial your number, something on the nightstand caught his eye. A necklace—your necklace. The one you always wore, the one you never took off.

His chest tightened.

What the hell just happened?

Then, it clicked. The way he had found you curled up next to him this morning—the way your fingers had unconsciously gripped his waist, as if afraid he’d leave. You weren’t the type to do that. So why did you—.

Unless—

She heard me.

Jake felt the blood drain from his face. His own words echoed in his head, the ones Heeseung had fed him, the ones he stupidly repeated without thinking.

“Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I should just get out of here before she wakes up, right?”

He clenched his jaw. “Shit.”

You had heard him. And now, you were gone.

Jake spent the rest of the morning searching for you. He called your phone multiple times, but it kept ringing until it went to voicemail. He texted, only to be met with unread messages. Every hour that passed made his frustration grow—where the hell could you have gone?

Then, it hit him.

Your studio.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and drove across the city, ignoring every red light and honking car. His mind was a storm of emotions—guilt, frustration, fear. He needed to fix this.

When he finally arrived, the familiar sight of your workspace came into view, its large glass windows dimly lit from inside. His heart pounded as he stepped out of his car and made his way to the entrance, pushing open the door without knocking.

The moment he walked in, he spotted you.

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over a sketchbook. From the way your pencil angrily scratched at the page, it was clear you were frustrated. Your usual fluid, elegant designs had been replaced with jagged lines, some pages torn out and crumpled beside you.

You were trying to drown yourself in work.

Jake’s breath caught as he took you in. Your hair was messier than usual, your face devoid of the usual sharp confidence you carried. You looked exhausted. Like you hadn’t slept at all.

Like you were trying to forget last night ever happened.

But when you sensed someone standing in the doorway, you didn’t look up. “Go away.”

Jake swallowed hard. “Y/N—”

“I said go away.” Your voice was steady, but he could hear the underlying hurt beneath it. That hurt made his stomach twist.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, taking slow steps toward you.

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, finally looking up at him. “Talk? Now you want to talk? Thought this was all a mistake?”

Jake flinched. “That’s not—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, slamming your pencil down. “Don’t stand there and try to spin this, Jake. I heard you. I heard everything.”

The weight of your words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“I woke up, and you were gone,” you continued, voice rising. “I went looking for you because—because for once, I thought maybe this was different. Maybe I wasn’t just another thing for you to play with. But then I heard you. I heard you say it was a mistake—that you should leave before I woke up.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “Guess I just saved you the trouble.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, his heart hammering. “Y/N, you don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.” You stood up from your chair, stepping closer to him, your expression unreadable. “I was stupid enough to believe that this was more than just another hookup for you. That maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t some temporary distraction.”

Jake took a shaky breath. “You’re not.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Really? Because that’s not what it sounded like this morning.”

Jake exhaled sharply, gripping the back of his neck. He was messing this up—again. He needed to make you understand.

“I didn’t mean any of that,” he said, voice softer now. “I was on the phone with Heeseung, and he was—” Jake paused, shaking his head. “He was saying a bunch of bullshit, making me second-guess things. But I never meant it, Y/N. The second I said it, I regretted it.”

You stared at him, jaw tight. “And yet you still said it.”

“I know.” He sighed, stepping even closer. “I was stupid. I let someone else’s words get in my head, and I didn’t think. But if you’d stayed just a second longer, you would’ve heard Jay tell me not to listen to Heeseung. You would’ve heard me say that I wanted to stay.”

You hesitated, but your arms remained crossed, a sign that you weren’t letting him off that easily.

Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “Y/N, I don’t do this. I don’t—I don’t wake up next to someone and feel peaceful. I don’t look at someone and think, God, I want more than just one night. But you…” He looked at you, eyes desperate. “With you, it’s different. And that scares the hell out of me.”

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice.

Jake took your silence as permission to continue. “I don’t want to be just another regret for you. I don’t want this to be some game. And if you tell me you regret last night—if you tell me you never want to see me again—I’ll leave. But I don’t think you regret it.”

Your breath hitched. He was right. You didn’t.

But you were scared, too.

Scared because you had spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, convinced that love was a battlefield you had no interest in fighting for. Scared because Jake had found a way past your walls without you even realizing it.

And scared because, despite everything… you still wanted him.

“I don’t regret it,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Jake swallowed, nodding. “Then let me prove it to you.”

You stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for any sign of deception. But all you saw was sincerity.

A heavy silence filled the room before you finally exhaled, your shoulders sagging. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you yet.”

Jake’s lips quirked into a small, hopeful smile. “That’s fair.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “God, you’re such a pain in the ass.”

“I’ve heard.” He grinned.

You rolled your eyes, but this time, there was no real malice behind it. Just exhaustion. Maybe even the hint of a smile.

Jake took a tentative step forward. “Can I at least take you to dinner?”

You raised a brow. “A real date?”

“A real date,” he promised. “No mistakes this time.”

You studied him for a moment before letting out a small sigh. “Fine. But im paying.”

Jake scoffed. “Just because you have way more money than me doesn’t mean you can show off.”

And as you stood there, sticking your tongue at the boy mischievously who had somehow wormed his way into your heart, you realized— this definitely wasn’t a mistake after all.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bed. You stirred, shifting slightly, only to feel the weight of an arm draped over your waist. A soft exhale tickled the back of your neck, and you turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of Jake—eyes closed, breathing steady, his features relaxed in a way that made your chest tighten.

It had been weeks since the misunderstanding that nearly tore you apart. Since then, things had fallen into place in a way neither of you had expected. There were no grand declarations or extravagant gestures—just moments like this. Quiet, intimate, and real.

You gently moved his arm, attempting to slip out of bed without waking him, but before you could even shift an inch, his hold tightened.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was rough with sleep, and yet, there was a teasing lilt to it.

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “I was going to make coffee. But I see you have other plans.”

He hummed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “My only plan is keeping you right here for a little longer.”

You let yourself relax against him for a moment before sighing. “Jake, we can’t just stay in bed all day.”

“Why not?” He murmured against your skin. “I finally got you, and now you want to leave me for coffee? You wound me.”

You turned to face him, raising a brow. “You’re so dramatic.”

He smirked. “And yet, you love me anyway.”

Your breath hitched slightly, and Jake noticed—the way your eyes softened, the way you licked your lips as if debating whether to respond. Love. The word had been lingering between you two for a while now, unsaid but present in every touch, every look, every stolen moment.

Instead of answering, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was slow, unhurried, filled with an emotion you weren’t quite ready to put into words but hoped he could feel anyway.

He smiled against your lips, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, I do love you, Jake. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know how I survived this long without you.’”

You scoffed, pushing at his chest playfully. “You’re such a dumbass.”

He caught your hand before you could move away, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Fine, fine,” he relented, grinning. “But at least let me make the coffee. You stay here.”

You arched a brow. “You? Making coffee?”

Jake gasped dramatically. “I’ll have you know I make an excellent cup of coffee.”

“You put in twice the sugar any sane person would,” you deadpanned.

“You still drink it when I make it,” he pointed out smugly.

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grew. This—this was what made it different with Jake. The teasing, the tenderness, the effortless way you fit together.

As he finally pulled himself out of bed, ruffling his already-messy hair, you watched him fondly. Maybe neither of you had planned for this, but it was happening anyway.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

this is so cute and well-written i think i just got a new will to live