Lai

19

[chuulvie]

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏʀᴇᴠɪʟʟᴇ

basic info!: 𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓲! 9teen <3

groups: 𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒,𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎, 𝒸𝑜𝑒𝓇,MY xo Who do I write? ~ Enhypen, Straykids Biases: Jake, Heeseung, Sunghoon Bangchan, Changbin, Jeongin Martin Giselle taglist: @ellsblue @jeylalol (𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓃𝑜𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝓊) request anything! I don't care how kinky it is.

[bobdylanyaoi]

biting the hand that feeds me but im also sucking on the fingers a bit

[chuulvie]

so...

now that it's been two months since dada went solo.

can we all hug and sing kumbaya and bump clits and agree to still love all seven of these men...

[kosmogrl]

ever since I was a little girl I knew I wanted to do everything myself. like no I don’t need help I can do it, thanks!

[chuulvie]

CORTIS

1hr 8 minutes until GREENGREEN releases

I SWEAR I'm about to download a fucking VPN and set it for somewhere the album is already released Wait nvm it doesn't work like that

fuckkk my chungus life

[chuulvie]

I've been inactive for months... who do y'all want next?

I've been so so so busy, nobody prepared me for the absolute ass kicking the college life is 😭 Anyways the whoremones are still here, and I'll be gone for another few months probably. I want to give you guys like three completed fics, but realistically I can pump out like one rn. (Yes, when I say ENHYPEN that means Hee/Evan too baby we're going A1 Day1 with it)

Next Fic!

Smut (EN-, SKZ)

Fluff (EN-, SKZ, CORTIS)

Angst (EN-, SKZ, CORTIS)

Voting ended onMay 5

tell me who you want specifically in my asks!

[fshionalien]

just wanted to say that with the whole situation abt the user who made the fuckass audio of martin, you’re a very strange and odd individual.

along with the people who are feeding into the persons works, in the comments trying to stand up for it, you all are also weird😂😂😂

[chuulvie]

because suddenly 18 in Korea means it's GREENGREEN to make sex audios of people. no hate to people who make smut audios at all, but there are boundaries that are not to be crossed. it's even weird seeing James smut and audios since he's probably the most childish in the group despite being the oldest. honestly, I don't think cortis should be touched. its OKAY to only write fluff about a group. like @fshionalien writes such wholesome things about the group, its not that hard to not be sexual.

[5w4n]

you sicken me and genuinely piss me off

[yayobabydolll]

[ilzzey]

[ssswagilicious]

+ some pet birds and a bestie roomie

[pineappleonmyburger]

enemies with benefits

pairing: fwb!heeseung x reader

genre: smut

CW: angst, hate fucking, enemies to lovers?, arguing, brat energy, foreplay, clit play, fingering, oral sex (f&m! receiving), teasing, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), both reader & hee are down bad but won't admit it, lots of neediness

word count: 2,774

synopsis: arguing with your fwb, heeseung, isn’t anything new. but missing him afterwards, is.

note: writers block hit, next part of midnight by friday <3

anyway .....alexa play enemies with benefits by monsta x

“baby we ain’t even friends, we’re just enemies with benefits”

“You’re late.” You huff, Heeseung just making it through your doorway before hearing your disapproving tone.

“Nice to see you, too.” He rolls his eyes, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him. It’s no secret your relationship was…complicated, but today the air was more tense than normal.

“We do this every Friday, same time, same place. Why is it so hard to be on time? It’s annoying.” You scoff, trailing over towards him. This arrangement all started with a drunken mistake after your mutual friend’s party, and maybe it should’ve stayed at just that. However, the sexual chemistry was too strong to ignore. You both had needs, and yes, maybe you hated each other’s guts, but who said you had to like each other to fuck?

“Can you chill with the attitude? I had a long ass day and I really don’t feel like hearing it.” He spits out, jaw tight with annoyance.

“Can you be on time for once?” You retort, taking another step towards him, both of your head-strong personalities demanding to take over.

“If you’re gonna act all bitchy then we’re not doing this.” He argues as you turn to walk towards your bedroom, determined to get the fix you so desperately need from him, but his words stop you in your tracks.

“Excuse me?” You grit your teeth, spinning on your heels quickly to meet his angry gaze. You stomp quickly over to him, barely any space between you.

“You heard me.” He asserts, raising an eyebrow, challenging you.

“What did you just call me?” You take a deep breath, redness creeping up your neck from anger.

“Technically I didn’t call you anything.” He shrugs, his attitude only pissing you off further. You maintain eye contact, eyes shooting bullets through his. “Just said you were acting like one.”

“Fuck you, Hee. Just get out.” You groan, shoving pasting him to reach the door. “You’re not gonna talk to me like that.” You pull open the door, fueled with rage.

“Oh so you can dish it out, but can’t take it?” He begins, letting out a huff, practically laughing at you.

“Fuck. You.” You grunt, he slides his shoes back on and walks towards you.

“That was the plan, but we didn’t get that far, baby. Too bad. I can see how bad you need it. It’s written all over you.” He chuckles, smirking at you on his way out.

“You know what, forget about coming back. I’m done with this.” You offer, preparing to slam the door in his face as he steps through your doorway.

“We’ll see.” He utters, the cockiness in his voice making you want to prove him wrong, but you yourself aren’t sure you can give whatever this is up so easily. And with that, he’s gone.

You really hated when he was right. A week and a half has passed since your argument with Heeseung, and you haven’t spoken at all, not that you had expected to, or that you spoke much out of your bedroom anyways, but you can’t get him out of your head. Maybe you’re just horny, but everything reminds you of him. The curve of his smile on coworkers, the smell of him as a stranger passes you on the street, and the curl of his fingers as you so desperately try to get off without him. The past few days have been miserable and long. You hate this. You aren’t supposed to care this much, to think about him this much. Your pride takes a hit as you finally give in, clicking on his contact, sending him a message.

You

Can you come over tonight?

You wince as you hit send, knowing the shit he’s going to give you for not being able to stay away, and for being right about it. But at this point, you can tune him out if he’ll give you what you need. You get a reply much quicker than you expect, the notification sound sending a chill down your spine as you dread looking at his response.

Do not contact!! 😮‍💨

Well hello to you too, baby.

You roll your eyes, seeing the three blue dots appear, waiting for his follow up response.

Do not contact!! 😮‍💨

Someone needy, huh. Miss me or something?

You

Is that a yes or a no?

Do not contact!! 😮‍💨

See you tonight, princess.

Your heart nearly skips a beat. You didn’t fully expect him to agree to come over, especially with how the last meet up went. You rush home immediately after work, not knowing exactly when he was going to show up. You get yourself ready, more than usual, paying oddly close attention to details you normally wouldn’t, excited to finally see him again. It felt so wrong to miss him, and you’d never admit to him that you do, but it was draining you. After what feels like forever, you hear your phone ding, checking it quickly to see a simple “here” text from Heeseung. You jump up from your couch quickly, making it to the door in only a few steps, your tiny silk robe, only panties underneath, nearly coming undone as you open the door.

“Hi, baby.” He gloats, eyes scanning your body, barely anything left to the imagination. “My god, are you trying to kill me?” He barely gets through the door before you grab ahold of his shirt with both hands, pulling him towards you.

“No time for pleasantries.” You grin, pulling him in, clashing your lips together with an intense need, a need that’s been growing for two weeks. He walks forward with your bodies still connected, gliding closer to your bedroom. Your lips dance together like two perfectly aligned puzzle pieces. You wrap your hands up into his hair, tugging slightly, and his hands find your waist, fingertips pressing roughly into you. You moan into his mouth, giving his tongue the access it desires. They fight against each other, wrestling hot and wet as your bodies move together. You tug on the bottom of his shirt, lips separating for a moment to peel it off and throw it to the side. The back of your legs hit the edge of your bed and you fall backwards, his smirk deepening before pouncing on top of you. Your legs spread involuntarily, his hips grinding into yours with an eagerness that almost makes you think he’s missed you too. His hardening cock glides against your panties, even through his sweats, you can feel him plainly. His lips move to your neck, sucking on your sweet skin, and you whimper, pleasure shooting straight to your core.

“You needed this, didn’t you baby?” He questions gently, nipping at your ear as he whispers, still moving his hips against yours. His kisses trail down your neck, onto your chest, robe falling open for him, giving him full access. You nod, not fully wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing it. He takes your nipple into his mouth and your back arches, his teeth grazing the tender area. The little stimulation from his clothed dick and his mouth has you reeling, especially considering you haven’t been able to get off on your own ever since last time. Everything feels twice as good, twice as real. You moan frantically, his mouth shifting to your other nipple, giving it the same attention.

“So sensitive aren’t you, princess?” He says softly, teasing, but not in a cruel way, not this time. “Did you need this, baby?” He asks again, still demanding an answer. His right hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers gliding over your drenched panties, feeling your need for him.

“Y-yes, Seungie. So bad.” You whimper, hands flailing desperately in his hair as he continues to rub your aching cunt over your underwear.

“Tell me what you need, baby. What’ve you needed allllll those days without me?” He grins, fingers finally diving underneath to feel you with no barrier. You gasp, his face back in front of yours as he taunts your need, eyes demanding to stay on his. His skilled fingers begin to circle your swollen clit, making you nearly explode on impact. You whine, not sure you can form a coherent thought as your eyes threaten to close for pleasure. “Uh-uh, look at me. Haven’t heard these sounds in weeks, princess, I want you to look at me while you make ‘em.”

“I n-need y-you. Fuck. So bad, Hee.” You moan hopelessly, desperate to cum after weeks of pent up frustration. He’s taken aback by your boldness, you usually made it pretty clear you didn’t need him, but tonight, you’re past that.

“What’s with you, baby? Does this pretty pussy miss me that badly?” He questions, noticing your intense desire and uncontrollable moans.

“Mhhmm.” You nod, his fingers working faster, clit throbbing underneath his touch. “I-I couldn’t…w-without…” You begin, caught between your pride and despair, wondering if he’d use your admission in the future against you.

“Couldn’t what?” He interrogates, although you know he knows the answer to his own question. The knot in your stomach is familiarly close to exploding, a feeling you needed so badly.

“Hee..” You gasp his name, breath quickening as his fingers drive you to orgasm, for the first time in two weeks, your body finally lets go. Your legs tremble, body convulsing from the after shocks, his fingers merely slowing down to work you through it.

“Poor thing couldn’t cum without me, could you?” He asks, kissing your sensitive neck again as you try to regain control of your body. You shake your head, sweat beading at your forehead from the heat between the two of you. “Guess I need to make up for lost time.” He smirks at you, body practically flinging so that his face is situated between your legs. He pries your panties off, admiring the wetness he has created before throwing them to the side.

“Seung! Wait!” You wail, still descending from your last orgasm, but he disregards your cries. He licks a solid stripe up your cunt, lapping up your arousal, your back shooting up off the bed in shock. He loves to please, but he’s not usually this generous. You’re both normally quick and to the point, knowing exactly what you’re there to do, but this time feels different. His lips latch around your pulsating clit, not even completely descended from your last high as he begins circling his tongue quickly. You writhe underneath his hold, hands glued to the inside of your thighs to keep them open.

“You taste like heaven. Every. Damn. Time.” He groans against you, right hand trailing to your entrance, two fingers entering you easily, causing you to grip the sheets in despair. He backs away from cunt with his mouth to speak, fingers working you open wide. “God, why the fuck can’t I stay away from you? Huh?” He mutters, eyes glancing up at you, searching for an answer.

“Y-you’re t-telling me. Shit. Ngh!” You choke out your words, moans pouring out as his fingers curl inside of you, moving rapidly as your high approaches quicker than ever, your body anxious to cum given your recent struggle.

“Awhh, you did miss me.” He taunts, crawling back up your body, fingers never slowing, reaching your face, kissing you like he’s never kissed you before. Your lips move in tandem, hot, wet, and passionately. 

“You’re s-so annoying.” You whine as your lips disconnect. He slides a third finger inside of you, cunt stinging slightly from the stretch, but the pleasure overtakes it quickly. A few obscenities slip from you as his fingers bring you closer.

“Just not annoying enough, apparently.” He smirks down at you, kissing you again quickly and you roll your eyes at him. 

“Just shut up and make me cum, Hee.” You groan, and his fingers move faster, curling to scratch your sweet spot and you nearly yelp, your orgasm so close you can taste it. He smiles smugly, secretly loving your brattiness, it’s one reason he could never stay away. 

“So greedy.” He whispers into your ear, biting at your earlobe, making you shiver. Your body releases the tension, your high hitting you hard. You clench around his fingers, and he whispers sweet praises in your ear, only dragging out your orgasm. He continues his movements, fucking you through it, your breathing exaggerated and heavy.

“Hee-fuck.” You moan softly into him, reaching down to palm him through his pants as he removes his fingers from your cunt, bringing them up to his mouth, sucking your juices off. You rub him harder, his eyes closing from your touch. “Let me help you, too, Seungie.” You tease, using your other hand to push his abdomen back and off of you. As soon as his weight is gone, you stumble to the floor and drop to your knees, glancing at him, waiting for him to join you. He grins, sliding off and standing in front of you. You hook your fingers under his waistband, pulling his sweats to his feet and he kicks them off. His black boxers show a familiar wet spot, precum soaking through and his hard cock is outlined evidently. You pull them down as well, his length springing out in front of you, veins pulsing and angry, starving for touch. You don’t hesitate, leaning forward, wrapping your hand around the base and slowly licking the tip, the salty taste electrifying your taste buds. You take him in your mouth, tongue circling him as he goes deeper. 

“You look so fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth, baby.” He grunts, hand falling into your hair, but not roughly like usual. There’s a delicateness to his movements, his hand caressing your face as you hollow your cheeks, sucking him hard and fast, the way you know he likes it. His head falls backward, but only for a moment, determined to keep his eyes on you, to soak up every moment of you on your knees for him. You continue to pump him in your hand, saliva working as a lubricant to glide easier. You release him from your mouth just long enough to speak.

“Fuck my mouth, Hee. Use this bitchy tongue any way you want it.” You smirk up at him, using his previous words from your argument, in some fucked up way letting him know you know you were in the wrong. He chuckles down at you, eyebrows raised in surprise at your words, especially since you don’t tell him he’s right very often. And this time you still didn’t, not technically, but he knows what you meant. He grips your hair tighter, but not with the roughness he usually does. 

“You…How am I supposed to stay away from you?” He starts, thumb still caressing the smooth skin of your cheek. “Especially when I don’t want to.” He continues, the admission making your heart pound, knowing that it’s not just you.

“Then don’t.” You reply, opening your mouth as he guides his length back into your throat. You look up at him with doe eyes, a look that could make him cum on sight, but also makes his heart flutter like it hasn’t before. He starts thrusting into your mouth slowly, making sure you’re okay, adjusting to the intrusion. Tears prick your eyes as he increases his pace, your throat contracting around him, sinful moans and grunts leaving him above you that brings a new flood of arousal to your core. 

“Shit, sweetheart, you’re gonna make me cum so fast.” He groans with a small laugh, and you smile at him with your eyes, his hand that’s not curled into your hair, holding your face gently. This isn’t the Heeseung you’re used to. Not that he was always an asshole, but he usually came here to fuck, fast and quick, that was all. This time is unlike any of the others. He fucks into your mouth a few more times before you feel his cock twitch, his cum coating your throat and you swallow immediately, draining him of every last drop. He whimpers as you take over, bobbing your mouth as he comes down from his orgasm. You release him with a pop, and both of your heavy breathing fills the room.

“I h-hate you, you k-know?” You say, practically panting. He leans down, his face in front of yours, noses touching. He kisses you hard, body nearly falling backwards from the force. You stand with him, his hands still wrapped around your head, as if you were a delicate flower he had to handle carefully.

“I hate you too, baby.”

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[sadocanist]

I love the way oral sex lets you show someone genuine enthusiasm

[hoonguin]

꒰﹕﹒ i lawb you ❀ nishimura riki

⌗ in which . . . you’re assigned to capture a notorious mafia leader, only to discover that he’s your former lover — nishimura riki

流星 ໑ . .  mafialeader!riki x femdetective!reader

⌗ includes . . . smut (18+), strong language, power imbalance, moral conflict, possessive behavior, professional conduct, unresolved feelings, ex-lovers to whatever that was, riki talks you through it 🤤 overstimulation, cockwarming, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (m. receiving), rough sex, multiple orgasms, power play, car sex, praise kink, light degradation, size kink, use of restraints ➜ mdni ! or do.. it's up to you ♡ purely a work of fiction, none of this is real | wc: 10.2k

♪ el’s bubble: president el just wanted to share with the class that this piece was made with a loooot of love (she had way too much time and too many ideas) 🙏 spent at least three days working through this but we made it out of the woods ! i genuinely couldn’t stop thinking about him in melbourne and this one specific clip of him i saw on tiktok so yeah . . this was a request by anon, so thanks a bunch anon 😛 please enjoy — likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are deeply appreciated on here ♡ requests are always open if you want to see me write something specific ۫ ׅ

tags: @wonscapes @simsimluver @maishee @grdientlips @kristynaaah @psychicdazestrawberry | just ask if you want to be a part of my tag list ˙𐃷˙

now playing . . . often by the weeknd

"What the hell? This is the guy we have to somehow magically put in handcuffs?"

You groan out, frustration evident in your voice as your thumb and index finger press firmly against the bridge of your nose, massaging the tension that has been building there since the start of this meeting. 

Your chair creaks beneath you as you sink back into it, the leather cool against your back, though it does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach.

The room goes dead silent for a long, agonizing moment. 

The only sound that fills the space is the faint, rhythmic hum of the air conditioner, its steady drone doing little to calm the storm of thoughts racing through your mind. 

The cool toned lights above seem to buzz just a little louder in the quiet, and you can feel the weight of every pair of eyes in the room on you, waiting for you to say something else, to react, to do anything other than sit there in stunned disbelief.

"Well, he's sort of the ringleader of the mafia that's been terrorizing people on the other side of the city, so yes — that's the guy we have to catch," your coworker says, their tone far too casual for the gravity of what they've just dropped on your desk. 

They take another bite into their ube flavored macaron, the crumbs dusting the corner of their mouth as they chew, oblivious to the way your entire world has just tilted on its axis.

In front of you, sitting right there on your desk, is a photograph of a man — the same man you're supposed to somehow catch, apprehend, and put behind bars. 

The same man who, according to the file beneath the photo, has been orchestrating a web of crime so intricate that the department has been chasing ghosts for nearly three years.

You stare at the picture for a long, long time. Your eyes trace every detail, every line and shadow captured in the image, as if staring at it long enough might reveal some hidden truth, some sign that this is all just an elaborate mistake.

The man in the photograph seems to be around six feet tall, though it's hard to tell exact height from a picture alone. 

His hair is a striking mix of brown and blonde, though it leans closer to blond, the kind of hair that probably catches the sunlight in a way that makes people turn their heads without meaning to. 

He has a tall, elegant nose bridge, lips that are a pretty shade of pink, slightly curved in a way that suggests he might have been caught mid-thought, or perhaps mid-sentence. 

His eyes, oh, his eyes — his eyes are the same shape, the same dark brown, the same intensity that once made your heart race for entirely different reasons.

Nishimura Riki.

The name sits heavy on your tongue, bitter and sweet all at once. 

You remember how it used to feel to say it, whispered in quiet moments, laughed over shared jokes, cried into pillows when everything fell apart.

Fuck. 

Who would've ever thought your ex from back in the day, the same boy who used to trip over his own feet, who had the dorkiest laugh you'd ever heard, who held your hand like it was something precious, would become the most feared mafia leader in the city? 

That the same hands that once traced hearts on your skin would now be stained with the kind of darkness you've spent your entire career fighting against?

The thought of it alone felt incredibly absurd. 

After what felt like an entire millennium, each second stretching into an eternity as the photograph burned itself into your memory, you finally let out a long, breathy sigh. 

It escapes your lips slowly and deliberately. Your shoulders drop just slightly, the tension in your body shifting rather than just disappearing entirely.

"Okay, then," you say, your voice steadier than you feel. "So when do we plan to start our operations in catching this guy?"

Your fingers tap rapidly against your desk, a nervous habit you've never quite managed to shake. The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of your nails against the wood fills the silence between your words.

"If I were to suggest," your coworker begins, setting down what remains of their macaron and wiping the corner of their mouth with a napkin, "we could start this evening, maybe at around six? From the insights I've gathered from Mrs. Yoon's department, there's a high possibility they're just hanging around at the abandoned bread factory just a few turns away from the main highway. It's been one of their known spots for… well, gatherings."

You nod slowly, processing the information, already mentally mapping out the route in your head. You know that factory, or at least, you know of it. 

Everyone does. It's been decommissioned for years, a crumbling skeleton of what was once a thriving business, now reduced to nothing more than a ghost of the past.

"Then so be it, we'll start tonight. I'll come along—"

Your words hang in the air for barely a second before another voice cuts through, sharp and insistent.

"Wait, no, it's fine if you don't head out with us." One of the senior officers shifts in their seat, their expression a careful mask of concern disguised as professionalism. "We heard Mr. Nishimura is a very dangerous figure to be around. His reputation precedes him, and frankly, we don't know what we're walking into. It would be safer if—"

A beat.

The room falls silent again, the weight of unsaid words pressing down on everyone present. You can see the way your coworkers exchange glances, the subtle raise of eyebrows, the barely perceptible shake of heads. 

They know, or at least, they suspect, that there's more to your investment in this case than professional duty.

"I can manage," you say, cutting through their hesitation like a blade. Your voice is calm, measured, but there's an edge beneath the surface that wasn't there before. "I believe I've encountered people worse than him."

The lie slides off your tongue easily, smoothly. 

Have you encountered worse? 

Perhaps. 

But none of them wore the face of someone you once loved. None of them had hands that once wiped your tears, or a voice that once whispered promises of forever.

"But—"

"Nothing can change my mind. I will come along." You say it firmly this time, leaving no room for argument, your hand already reaching out for the mug of hot coffee sitting by your desk. 

The ceramic is warm against your palm and you take a slow sip, letting the bitterness coat your tongue as your coworkers exchange one final look.

After a moment, they nod, a reluctant acceptance of a battle they know they won't win. 

They've worked with you long enough to recognize the set of your jaw, the steel in your eyes. 

You're definitely not backing down.

After a quick exchange of additional reminders, meeting points, squad arrangements, who will take point, which vehicles to use, the chain of command, you wave off your coworkers, watching them gather their things and file toward the door of your office. 

Their footsteps echo against the linoleum, a steady march of duty and obligation, until the last of them disappears beyond the frame.

Then, complete silence.

After everyone has left, you still can't shrug it off. 

The feeling sits heavy in your chest, a heavy rock dragging you down into depths you thought you'd escaped years ago. 

Your college sweetheart, the boy who used to sneak you notes folded into tiny paper stars, who would wait by your dorm every morning with a smile that could melt glaciers, who held you when your world felt like it was crumbling, is now one of the most wanted criminals out there.

The irony isn't lost on you. The universe, it seems, just has a cruel sense of humor.

You take another sip of your coffee, staring down at the photograph still sitting on your desk. Riki's eyes seem to stare back at you, and for a moment, you swear you can see the ghost of the boy he used to be hiding somewhere in those depths.

God damn it, Nishimura Riki.

The cold wind of the evening hits you without warning, an invisible force that seems to have been lying in wait just for this moment. 

It whips across your face with a vengeance, sending strands of your hair flying directly into your eyes and mouth, effectively undoing the careful lip stain you had applied just moments ago in the car mirror. 

And frankly, it felt like the universe was already setting the tone for how the rest of this night was going to go.

You sputter, spitting out a strand of hair that had the audacity to stick to your freshly painted lips, and swipe at your face in frustration.

It was annoying, to say the least. 

The car driven by your colleague has run out of gas — a fact that became painfully obvious when the engine sputtered, coughed, and died an unceremonious death on the side of a road that felt far too deserted for comfort. 

In this economy, with inflation rates climbing higher than your patience has been dipping, you'd probably spend more trying to get a tow truck out here rather than just buying a few liters of gas and calling it a learning experience. 

In short, you and two more colleagues are stranded by the side of the road, surrounded by nothing but empty fields and the distant glow of city lights that feel impossibly far away.

Of course, your other workmates are aware of the situation, the department's group chat has been blowing up with a chaotic mixture of concern, directions, and at least three different people offering to bring gas. 

They're sending as much help as they can to get that car fueled up again, but with it being rush hour on a Friday evening, it'd take them a really, agonizingly long time. 

The traffic in this city is notorious, a living creature that swallows cars whole and spits them out whenever it damn well pleases.

"Why the fuck would you not fuel this bad boy up before heading out?" one of your colleagues asks, their tone caught somewhere between genuine frustration and barely suppressed amusement. 

They're trying so hard not to giggle at the absurdity of it all, a squad of trained professionals stranded on the side of the road like a bunch of teenagers on a road trip gone wrong.

"I didn't expect it to be that far," the driver shoots back, defensive, their hands gesturing wildly at the empty road ahead as if distance itself had personally betrayed them.

"You've been here multiple times," the first one counters, raising an eyebrow.

"My point still stands," the driver mutters, already pulling out their phone, navigating through the screen with practiced fingers until they find the flashlight switch. The bright beam cuts through the growing darkness, casting long shadows against the tall grass that lines either side of the road.

So what did you guys decide to do? 

After a brief, somewhat heated discussion that involved a lot of pointing at maps and debating the merits of waiting versus walking, the three of you decided to just walk to the factory. 

The idea being that it'd probably be better that way, because god knows what worse situations the car could get into aside from losing gasoline. A flat tire? Engine failure? Getting towed by some overzealous parking enforcement despite being very much parked legally on a public road? With your luck tonight, anything was possible.

A blessing in disguise, definitely. Or at least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

The factory is only an eight-minute walk away according to Google Maps, which your colleague optimistically announces while conveniently ignoring the "approximately" that usually means "longer than you think." 

To add more fuel to the fire, you guys are apparently going to be the first people to arrive there too. 

All of the other cars got separated back in the city due to the hectic traffic and busted stoplights that would flash red a few seconds too early, trapping cars in intersections and creating a domino effect of chaos that spread through every major street. 

By some cosmic joke, you three had to just be there first.

Perfect. So, so perfect. 

You could practically hear the universe laughing at you. 

The walk to the factory itself was pretty quick, maybe because you got stranded with your colleagues who were both awarded "Clown of the Year" during last year's Christmas party — a title they wore with immense pride. 

Their constant bickering, terrible jokes, and off-key humming made the eerily silent and dark walk to the factory an incredibly funny one, despite the circumstances. 

One of them kept making shadow puppets with their flashlight while the other narrated a dramatic nature documentary about "the wild detective in its natural habitat." 

It was stupid, childish even, but it kept the creeping anxiety at bay.

Finally, after about a while and two LANY songs later, one playing from someone's phone speaker, muffled by the wind but recognizable nonetheless, you arrive at the outside of the factory.

The structure looms ahead, a massive silhouette against the darkening sky. 

What was once a thriving bread factory now stands as a skeleton of industrial ambition, its windows either broken or boarded up, its walls covered in graffiti that you can barely make out in the fading light. 

But there's something else — something that makes you pause and crouch low, pulling your colleagues down with you.

You could confirm that there are people here. Even hidden behind really tall grass that reaches well above your waist, you could see the view really well. 

Years of training have taught you how to observe without being observed, how to take in details while remaining invisible.

There are two bodyguards seated by the entrance, their postures relaxed but alert, cigarettes glowing orange in the darkness as they take drags in between conversation. 

They're dressed in dark clothing, nearly blending into the shadows if not for the faint light spilling from inside the factory.

"Jeez, who hired those two to be by the entrance," a colleague of yours whispers, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of their mouth. 

You can see them gesturing toward the guards, clearly amused by something, their posture, their expressions, maybe just the concept of them hanging by an abandoned bread factory. 

They nudge your shoulder, and you immediately nudge them back, harder, your eyes narrowing in warning, indicating for them to keep their voices down.

The place was well-lit with what seemed to be newly bought light bulbs, their brightness almost harsh against the abandoned backdrop, and a couple of vintage-style lamps that cast warm pools of yellow across the cracked concrete. 

There were maybe around three black vans parked to the side, their windows tinted so dark they looked like voids. 

And two vehicles near the entrance, one white car and another black car, sleek and expensive-looking even from this distance.

You could see, faintly, that there was a person leaning against the white car. The figure was tall, arms crossed, illuminated just enough by the nearby lamps to reveal the outline of a silhouette.

You couldn't really make out the face, or anything distinguishing. 

Just a shape. 

A presence.

Just as you guys were about to head in, with all equipment ready, earpieces adjusted, weapons checked, positions assigned, you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. 

The buzz is insistent, urgent, and it causes all of you to halt and press yourselves further into the tall grass.

You take it out and see that one of your senior officers is ringing you up. The name flashes on your screen, and you exchange a glance with your colleagues before swiping to answer.

To cut the story short, because the conversation involved a lot of unnecessary explaining and at least four instances of your senior officer crashing out over things that could have been an email, gasoline has arrived, along with a few minor problems you couldn't be bothered to deal with right now. 

Something about one of the other cars getting a flat, another team getting stuck behind a traffic accident, and someone needing backup for a completely unrelated situation.

You ask your coworkers to head back to the car to assist with the gasoline, and check the so-called "minor problems" your senior officer was spiraling over. They hesitate, looking at each other, then back at you.

"Are you sure—" one asks, their voice barely above a whisper.

"Wait, okay, but do you not want to come? It's dark already—" another voice follows, concern lacing their words.

You assure them you'll be fine. You've done solo reconnaissance before. You know how to stay hidden, how to observe without engaging. 

After a few more pointed assurances, a few hesitant nods, and one absolutely wonky handshake that one of them insists on doing "for good luck," they were off, their figures disappearing into the darkness of the tall grass, flashlights bobbing like fireflies in the distance.

Now, it was just you.

The silence feels heavier without their voices to fill it. 

The wind picks up again, rustling the grass around you, and somewhere in the distance, you can hear the faint sound of music coming from inside the factory.

The silence presses against you like a physical weight, and for a moment, all you can hear is the thud of your own heartbeat echoing in your ears. 

You crouch there in the tall grass, hidden from view, trying to gather the scattered pieces of your composure into something that resembles professionalism.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself, the words a familiar mantra that has gotten you through countless operations before this one. You're a trained professional. You've been preparing for this moment for months. Years, even. You know the protocols. You know the risks. You know what's at stake.

But another voice, smaller, quieter, buried somewhere deep in the recesses of your mind where you keep all the things you don't want to acknowledge, whispers back: You will never be prepared for him.

You shake your head, dispelling the thought like a fly you're trying to swat away. Now is not the time to get sentimental. 

Now is not the time to think about paper rings folded from notebook pages, or locker notes written in his messy scrawl, or lazy afternoons spent tangled together on the couch with your fingers tracing patterns on his biceps. 

Now is the time to do your job.

With a steadying breath that does nothing to calm the storm inside your chest, you decide to make your move.

Creeping forward through the grass, you keep your body low, your movements calculated and precise.

Years of training have taught you how to move like a ghost, how to become invisible even in broad daylight. 

The tall blades whisper against your clothing, a soft rustling that sounds impossibly loud in the quiet of the night. 

Every few steps, you pause, listening, watching, making sure you haven't been detected.

Miraculously, and you're not sure whether to be relieved or suspicious, the bodyguards aren't at their posts anymore. The entrance stands unguarded, a gaping mouth of light spilling out onto the cracked concrete. 

Either they've moved inside, or something has drawn their attention elsewhere. 

Either way, it's an opportunity. A gift, perhaps, from whatever higher power has been toying with your fate tonight.

You consider making your way inside. The logical part of your brain, the part trained for tactical assessment, urges you forward. But something holds you back. The interior looks vast, open, with too many corners and shadows where someone could be hiding, too many blind spots where you could be cornered. 

For someone with your smaller frame, it's a risk, you've learned the hard way that being underestimated works both ways. 

It can be an advantage, yes, but it can also make you vulnerable.

Not yet, you decide, your mind already mapping out contingencies. 

Gather intel first. Know the terrain. Count your exits.

Instead, you redirect your attention to the vehicles parked outside.

Moving with purpose, you make your way toward the three black vans first. 

They're utilitarian, unremarkable, the kind of vehicles that could belong to any delivery company or construction crew. 

You note their positions, their license plates, the fact that one of them has a small dent on the rear bumper. Details that might mean nothing, or everything.

Then you move toward the two cars, the black one and the white one parked closer to the entrance. 

The black car is sleek, expensive, the kind of vehicle that screams money and power. The white one is equally impressive, though slightly more understated in its elegance, its paint catching the moonlight in a way that almost makes it glow.

You're cataloging these details in your mind, positions, makes, models, potential for pursuit or escape, when a voice cuts through the night like a blade through silk.

"Hey, sexy."

You freeze.

It's not the word that stops you cold, though you'd be lying if you said it didn't catch you off guard. 

No, it's the voice itself, the timber, the slight lilt at the end that turns what should be a cringeworthy pickup line into something almost fond. Something that sounds dangerously like the past echoing into the present, like a melody you thought you'd forgotten how to play.

Your heart slams against your ribs, once, twice, three times, as you slowly, carefully, turn around.

And there he is.

Riki stands before you, illuminated by the dim glow of the nearby lamps, looking nothing like the monster the department has painted him to be and everything like the boy who once held your heart in his hands. 

He's wearing beige cargo pants that are definitely a few sizes larger than his usual fit, hanging low on his hips in a way that speaks of comfort rather than style. A black belt cinches them at the waist, a grey shirt stretches across his chest, and a black jacket hangs open over it all.

You wouldn't expect to see that from someone who's been labeled as one of the most dangerous mafia leaders in the city. 

He looks so dang normal. 

Casual. 

He could be any other guy you passed on the street, someone you wouldn't look twice at.

Except you would. You'd look at him a thousand times over. You'd memorize every angle of his face, every shadow and highlight, every detail you thought you'd forgotten but had only buried away in the deepest corners of your memory.

He's looking at you the same way.

"What the fuck are you doing out here, Riki?"

The words spill out before you can stop them, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. 

You've said his name a thousand times before, but saying it now, in this context, feels like crossing a line you can't uncross.

But you can't take it back. 

You don't want to.

Riki's lips curl into a smile, and it's the same smile that used to make your heart do somersaults back in college. 

The same smile that greeted you every morning by your locker with a cup of your favorite hot cocoa with extra marshmallows. The same smile that broke your heart when everything fell apart. 

There's something else there now, something softer, more vulnerable, that he's trying and failing to hide behind his casual demeanor.

"One of my goons informed us that law enforcement would possibly come out and get our asses tonight," he says, his voice carrying that familiar playful edge even as his eyes remain fixed on your face, drinking you in like you're the first drop of water he's seen in a desert. "Presented a whole list of the officers that may be involved too. Saw your name at the top of the list, and thought..."

He pauses, and for a moment, the mask slips. 

You see it, the way his breath hitches almost imperceptibly, the way his fingers twitch at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach for you.

"I wanted to see you for myself," he finishes, quieter now. "Needed to. Even if it was just from a distance. Even if you'd never know I was there."

Your breath catches in your throat, a small hitch that sounds deafening in the quiet night. 

You don't really know what to say to that, to the implication that he's been keeping track of you, that your name on a list was enough to make him drop everything. 

That he needed to see you the same way you've been needing to see him, even if you couldn't admit it until this very moment.

And god, he's so handsome. 

Even more handsome than your Riki back in college, if that's even possible. 

The years have sharpened his features, turned the softness of youth into something more defined, more striking. His jaw is sharper, his shoulders broader, his presence more commanding. 

But beneath all that, beneath the new edges and unfamiliar angles, he's still him. Still the boy who used to buy a ton of pencils and lose them all within a day. Still the boy who used to press kisses to your cheek whenever you were feeling down.

Riki reaches up and pulls off his black shades, revealing the same pair of deep brown eyes you fell in love with all those years ago. 

They're the same, and yet different — there's something harder in them now, something that speaks of experiences you can only imagine, of choices and consequences that have shaped him into someone new.

Underneath all the hardness, beneath the walls he's clearly built around himself, you can still see it: the warmth. The tenderness. The way he's looking at you like you're the only real thing in a world full of shadows.

The realization hits you like a physical force: He's still in love with you.

"Are you not here with anyone?" he asks, and there's genuine concern in his voice, a protectiveness that makes your chest ache with the weight of everything unsaid between you. 

His brow furrows slightly, creating a small crease between his eyebrows that you remember used to appear whenever he was worried about something. "Why are you alone? That's dangerous. You shouldn't be out here by yourself."

A few problems, you want to say. Just sent them back a bit to check on things.

The words get stuck somewhere between your brain and your mouth, because he's stepping closer now, closing the distance you didn't realize you'd been maintaining. 

His scent washes over you, something warm and woody with notes of vanilla underneath, different from what he used to wear but somehow still very him, and you feel your resolve crumbling like sand in a rising tide.

"A few problems," you finally manage, your voice coming out steadier than you feel. "Just sent them back a bit to check on things."

Without even realizing it, you feel yourself lowering your guard. It's instinctive, unconscious, something about being in his presence makes you forget, just for a moment, that you're supposed to be enemies. 

That he's supposed to be your target. 

That the department is probably already on their way, and when they arrive, they'll expect you to have him in handcuffs.

But right now, handcuffs are the last thing on your mind.

He looks at you, really looks at you, and there's something in his gaze that makes your skin prickle with awareness. 

His eyes travel over your face like he's trying to memorize you all over again, cataloging every change, every detail he might have missed.

"You cut your hair," he murmurs, almost to himself. "It looks good. Really good."

The observation catches you off guard, that he cared enough to store that detail away. 

Your hand unconsciously moves to touch the ends of your hair, a nervous habit you've never been able to break.

"You remember how it used to be," you say, and it comes out almost accusatory, like you're angry at him for holding onto memories you've been trying to forget.

"I remember everything," he says quietly. "Every single thing."

The weight of those words settles between you like a physical presence, heavy with all the things neither of you is saying.

Then his expression shifts, and there's a glint in his eye that you recognize all too well, the same stupid mischievous sparkle that used to precede every terrible joke, every playful tease, every moment that made you fall harder than you ever thought possible.

"Aw," he says, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing lilt. "So you stayed back to see me personally?"

"Definitely not," you shoot back, the denial automatic, instantaneous, a reflex developed over years of pretending you didn't care.

But the words taste like a lie on your tongue, and judging by the knowing look in his eyes, he can taste it too.

"You're a terrible liar," he says softly. "You always have been. Your nose does this little scrunch thing when you're not being honest."

Your hand flies to your nose instinctively, and he laughs, actually laughs, the sound warm and genuine and so achingly familiar that it makes your heart physically hurt.

"There it is," he says, his smile softening into something almost tender. "God, I missed that."

The admission hangs in the air between you, raw and honest in a way that neither of you expected.

Riki runs a hand through his hair, a gesture so achingly familiar that it makes your chest constrict. 

The movement causes his grey shirt to ride up just slightly, revealing a strip of skin and the waistband of red boxers underneath his low-hanging cargo pants.

You couldn't help but look.

It's involuntary, a flicker of your eyes that lasts barely a second, but it's enough. Heat creeps up your neck, spreading across your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, pretending you were focused on something, anything, else. 

The ground. The sky. The distant lights of the factory. Literally anything.

But when you look back at him, there's a knowing look in his eyes, a darkness that has nothing to do with the night around you. 

He caught exactly what you were doing, and more importantly — he liked it.

"See something you like?" he asks, his voice lower now, rougher around the edges.

"I—what, no, that's not —" you stammer, and you hate how flustered you sound, how easily he can unravel you with just a few words.

He doesn't push it further. 

Instead, he steps closer, and this time, there's no mistaking the intention in his movement. 

Every step is deliberate, measured, closing the distance between you like he's approaching something precious and terrifying all at once.

Your body tenses, every instinct screaming at you to step back, to maintain the distance that keeps you safe.

You stay rooted in place, caught in the gravity of his presence like a planet unable to escape its sun. 

You don't want to move. 

You don't want to run.

You want him closer.

Riki stops when he's close enough that you can count the individual lashes framing those deep brown eyes. 

Close enough that you can see the slight part of his lips, the way his breathing has gone shallow, the way his composure is cracking just as much as yours.

"You know, you have absolutely no idea," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "how many times I've thought about this moment. How many nights I've lain awake wondering what I'd say if I ever saw you again."

"And what did you come up with?" you ask, your voice equally quiet, equally raw.

He shakes his head slowly, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "Nothing. Actually, every word I practiced just immediately disappears when you're actually in front of me."

The confession sends a shiver down your spine, and you realize with sudden clarity that you're not the only one who's been holding onto this. 

You're not the only one who's been haunted by what-ifs and might-have-beens.

He's been just as affected. Just as unable to let go.

Without a word, he reaches out and wraps his hand around your wrist.

His touch is warm, firm, but not tight enough to hurt. It's a gesture of connection rather than restraint, and the feeling of his skin against yours, even just this small point of contact, sends electricity racing through your veins. 

Your pulse jumps beneath his fingers, and you know he can feel it. You know he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Riki, what the hell are you doing—" Your voice comes out breathier than intended, more plea than protest. "Let go."

Even as the words leave your mouth, you know you don't mean them. 

You don't want him to let go. 

You want him to hold on tighter.

Judging by the way his grip shifts, adjusting, his thumb brushing across the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, he knows it too.

"No," he says simply, and there's no command in it, no force. Just honesty, just want, laid bare between you. "I've spent years letting you go. I'm done with that."

Your heart stutters in your chest. "Riki..."

"Come on," he interrupts softly, tilting his head toward the white car behind him. "Let's get in my car. Let's have a quick little catch up about life after college."

The suggestion hangs in the air, weighted with implications that none of you want to say.

Catch up could mean a lot of things. 

Conversation. Confession. Something more.

Your mind screams that this is wrong, that you're crossing every line you've ever drawn for yourself, that you're betraying your career, your morals, everything you've worked for. 

He's a criminal. 

A target. 

Someone you're supposed to bring to justice, not follow into the backseat of an expensive car.

But he's also Riki. 

Your Riki. 

The boy who loved you first, and loved you hardest, and maybe, just maybe, never stopped loving you at all.

Your silence stretches too long, and something flickers in his eyes. Uncertainty. Vulnerability. The fear that maybe he's reading this wrong, that maybe you've moved on in ways he hasn't.

"We don't have to," he says quickly, his voice rough. "If you don't want to. I'm not—I would never force you into anything. You know that, right? I just..."

He trails off, and for the first time since he appeared, he looks young. 

Uncertain. 

Like the boy you remember, hiding behind bravado because he never learned how to ask for what he wanted without making it a joke.

He's scared, you realize. He's scared you’ll say no. He's scared this is just a fantasy he's built up in his head, and you’re about to shatter it.

The realization breaks something inside you, whatever walls you'd been holding onto, whatever professional distance you'd been trying to maintain. If he's still scared of losing you after all these years, after everything that's happened...

Then maybe you're not the only one who never moved on.

"Riki," you say, and his name comes out softer than you intend. Your free hand reaches up, almost of its own accord, and brushes a strand of hair from his forehead. 

His eyes flutter closed at the contact, just for a second, like he's been starved for your touch.

When he opens them again, there's something raw and desperate in his gaze.

"I'm not saying no," you whisper.

The words are barely out of your mouth before he's moving, pulling you gently but urgently toward the white car. 

His hand slides from your wrist to intertwine with your fingers, and the intimacy of it, the casual rightness of your hands fitting together like they were made for each other, makes your throat tight.

He opens the back door with his free hand, the other still holding yours like he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. 

The interior is dark, plush, expensive leather gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

"After you," he murmurs, and there's a hint of his old playfulness in his voice, tempered by something darker, something hungry.

You hesitate for just a moment, one last moment of rationality, one last chance to turn back.

Then you slide into the backseat, pulling him in after you, and the door closes behind you with a soft, definitive click.

The leather is cool beneath you, soft in a way that only expensive things can be. 

For a moment, neither of you moves. The air between you is thick, charged with years of silence finally breaking.

"So," Riki breathes, and you watch his throat work as he swallows. "How have you been?"

The question is so absurdly normal, that a surprised laugh escapes your lips. "Are you serious right now? You're asking me how I've been?"

"What? I want to know." His lips curve into that familiar crooked smile, the one that used to make you agree to every stupid idea he ever had. "It's been what, six years? Seven? I think I'm allowed to ask."

You roll your eyes, but there's no real annoyance behind it. "I've been… pretty good. Very busy. Became a detective, obviously. Got my own office. A plant I keep forgetting to water."

"A plant," he repeats, and there's something warm in his voice. "You? Forgetting to take care of something?"

"Shut it."

"Never." He shifts closer to the driver's seat, his shoulder brushing yours. 

The contact sends warmth spreading through your body. "What about you? Any relationships? Marriage? Kids?"

Your heart stumbles over itself. 

It’s like he's asking if you're available. 

He's asking if you've ever moved on.

"No," you say quietly. "None of that. You?"

The relief that flashes across his face is instantaneous and impossible to miss. "No. Never found anyone who..." He trails off, shaking his head. "No. Just work. Building an empire, I guess." His voice dips lower. "Waiting, mostly."

Waiting for you. 

The unspoken words hang between you.

Before you can respond, the engine purrs to life. Riki leans forward, pressing a button on the dashboard.

"Boss?" a voice crackles through the intercom — one of his men.

"Just heading out for a quick night ride," Riki says smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I need to clear my head. Inform me ASAP when the law enforcement people arrive. I'll be back before then."

"Understood, sir."

The car eases forward, gliding away from the factory and onto the dark road.

You should probably care that your colleagues will arrive to find you missing. 

You should probably worry about the operation, your career, everything you're risking.

But Riki's hand finds yours in the darkness, his thumb tracing patterns on your skin, and suddenly none of that matters.

The road stretches ahead, empty and endless, and you let yourself sink into the warmth beside you.

"So," he murmurs, his voice dropping. "Tell me more about this plant."

The drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Streetlights occasionally light up the car, casting golden stripes across Riki's features before plunging you both back into shadow.

"What about your family?" you ask, breaking the silence. "Your sister, the youngest one — what was her name?"

"Sora," he answers, and there's a gentleness in his voice that only ever appears when he speaks about her. "She's good. Graduated top of her class. It makes me look like the family disappointment, honestly."

"I sincerely doubt that."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and shifts to face you more fully. The movement brings him closer, his arm stretching along the back of the seat behind you. "You'd be surprised. She's the good one. I'm just, well..."

"The feared mafia leader?" you supply, raising an eyebrow.

"I was going to say 'the hot one,' but sure." His grin is infectious, and you hate how easily he can still make you smile. "Does it bother you? What did I do?"

The question catches you off guard. 

Does it bother you? It definitely should. 

Everything about this should bother you. 

But looking at him now, you don't see a criminal. 

You see Riki. 

Just Riki.

"I don't know," you admit honestly. "Ask me again later."

"I'll hold you to that."

The road curves, and the car takes it smoothly. In the movement, your body sways with the momentum, and suddenly your chest brushes against his extended arm.

The contact is brief, barely a second, but the sharp intake of breath from him is unmistakable. 

Your nipples tighten beneath the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, and you know, with mortifying certainty, that he felt it. 

Surely.

The car suddenly feels too small.

A bit too small for your liking. 

"I’m so, so sorry," you murmur, your voice coming out breathless.

"Don't be." His voice has dropped an interval, rougher now. "I told you, didn't I? I'm done pretending I don't want you."

Your pulse thuds in your veins as his arm shifts behind you, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder. The touch is feather-light, deliberate, testing.

"Riki..."

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, his face inches from yours. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll back off. I'll take you back to your colleagues, and we'll pretend this never happened. But you have to say it."

Your lips part, the words sitting on the tip of your tongue, the responsible words, the professional words.

But they won't come.

Instead, your hand reaches up, your fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

"Don't stop," you whisper.

Before you can finish your sentence, Riki's lips crash into yours.

The kiss is desperate, starving, years of longing poured into a single moment. 

His tongue sweeps into your mouth without hesitation, claiming you, tasting you, devouring you like you're oxygen and he's been drowning. 

You melt into him with a whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair and pulling hard enough to make him groan into your mouth.

"Fuck," he growls against your lips, "I've been dreaming about this mouth for years."

He pulls away with a wet sound, breathless, his chest heaving. His eyes are dark, blown wide with want, and when he speaks, his voice is wrecked.

"Back seat now, okay? I need to touch you properly, princess."

Before you can respond, he's already climbing over the console with fluid grace, maneuvering into the spacious back area. 

The car isn't just a regular vehicle — it's something between a luxury sedan and a limousine, with extended seating and room enough for someone his size to move without restriction.

As he settles beside you, his cargo pants ride dangerously low on his hips, and you catch another glimpse of those red boxers peeking above the waistband. 

An unfamiliar heat pools low in your stomach, throbbing and insistent, and you squeeze your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure.

Riki notices. 

Of course he does.

"Ah-ah," he tuts, his hand coming to rest on your knee, pushing your legs apart. "Don't hide from me, princess. Let me see how wet you are."

His words send a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you, and you feel your underwear sticking to your core, ruined.

"That's it," he murmurs, satisfied. "Such a good girl for me."

He guides you both to the far back, where plush cushioned seats stretch along the rear like a leather couch. 

He settles first, then pulls you onto his lap in one fluid motion. Your knees bracket his hips as his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, filthier, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.

"Fuck," he growls into your mouth, "I've thought about this—about you—every single fucking day. Do you know how many times I've had to fuck my own fist thinking about you? Thinking about this pretty mouth, this body, the sounds you make when you come?"

You whine, high and desperate, your hips rolling instinctively, grinding down against the growing hardness beneath you. 

The friction is maddening — not enough, but too much at the same time.

"Ki, please—"

"Please what, baby?" His hands slide under your shirt, splaying across your bare back, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Use your words. Tell me what you need."

"You, ugh, I need you—"

"Need me to what?" He's teasing now, cruel, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. He finds that spot, the one that makes your knees weak, and bites down before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. 

"Need me to touch you? To fuck you? To make you scream my name until you forget everything but me?"

"Fuck—yes, all of it, please—"

His hands slide up your ribs to cup your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they peak and ache beneath his touch.

You arch into him, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more everything.

"These tits," he groans, squeezing gently. "I've thought about them so much. How they'd feel in my hands, in my mouth. You have no idea how crazy you drove me, walking around in those tight shirts whenever your little squad was in the middle of an operation, you didn't know exactly what you were doing to me when I saw those pictures taken by my men."

"I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Liars go to hell, baby." His thumb flicks over your nipple, hard, and you gasp. "But you're already there, aren't you? Wet and desperate on my lap, grinding on my cock like the needy little slut you are."

His dirty words should embarrass you, but instead they just make you wetter, needier. 

Your hips grind down harder, chasing the friction you crave, and he lets out a dark chuckle.

"Look at you. So fucking desperate. You'd let me do anything to you right now, wouldn't you?"

"Yes—anything, please, just fuck me—"

"Anything?" His voice drops lower, dangerous. "Would you let me bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk? Let me use that pretty mouth until you're crying? Let me mark you up so everyone knows who you belong to?"

The words hit you like a physical force, and you shudder, nodding frantically.

"Yes, god, yes—yours, Ki—I'm yours—"

"Damn right you are." He captures your lips again, swallowing your whimpers. "You've always been mine. Even when we were apart. Even when you hated me. Mine."

His hands tighten on you, possessive and reverent all at once. Your own fingers card through his hair, tugging hard, and the sound that escapes him is downright sinful.

"Shit, princess, do that again—"

You pull harder, and he groans, his hips bucking up into you.

"God, baby, I've missed you so much — you don't even know," he murmurs against your jaw, his lips trailing hot and wet down to your neck. 

Beneath you, you can feel him getting harder, straining against the confines of his pants, and it makes you ache with want.

He's so, so big. 

You can feel every inch of him through the layers of fabric, thick and hard and pressing right against where you need him most.

"Feel that, princess?" He rolls his hips up, grinding against you. "That's what you do to me. Have been half-hard since I saw you in that grass, looking all professional and sexy, thinking you could actually catch me."

"I could have," you manage, though your voice comes out breathy and unconvincing.

He laughs, dark and low. "You didn't want to catch me, baby. You wanted me to catch you."

Before you can respond, an idea sparks in your mind.

You pull back slightly, reaching for your bag on the floor. His eyes follow your movements, curiosity flickering across his features, until you pull out the handcuffs.

His entire body goes still.

For a moment, genuine wariness flashes in his eyes. His jaw tightens, and you see his brain working — calculating, assessing. He doesn't know if this is a scheme, if you're still playing the detective, if this is all an elaborate trap to bring him in. 

The tension is palpable, his muscles coiling like he's ready to spring.

"Baby," he says carefully, "what are you doing?"

You see the uncertainty in his expression and smile, slow and wicked.

"Relax, cutie," you purr, trailing your free hand down his chest. "You're under arrest."

His brow arches, skepticism warring with arousal. "Under arrest for what?"

The raw hunger in his gaze belies his casual tone, and you lean in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"For being way too hot."

Something shifts in his expression, relief flooding in, followed immediately by dark, burning want. 

He holds out his wrists without protest, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Well then, officer. I surrender. Do with me what you will."

You click the handcuffs into place, securing his wrists together. The metal is cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.

"Fuck," he breathes, testing the restraints. "You look so hot like this. All commanding and in control. Who knew my girl had an authority kink?"

"Shut up."

"Make me."

You shove him back against the seat, climbing over him, and capture his mouth in a bruising kiss. 

He responds immediately, straining against the handcuffs, desperate to touch you but unable to.

"Having trouble there, baby?" you tease against his lips.

"You're going to pay for this," he growls, but there's no real threat in his voice — just a promise.

"Looking forward to it."

Slowly, deliberately, you trace your fingers down his chest, over the hard planes of his stomach, following the trail of hair disappearing beneath his waistband. 

His breath hitches, muscles tensing and jumping beneath your touch.

"Your hands," he rasps. "Been dreaming about your hands on me for so fucking long."

Your fingers find his belt, unbuckling it with agonizing slowness. You take your time with the button, then the zipper, letting the anticipation build until he's practically vibrating beneath you.

"You're such a tease," he groans. "Always were. Fucking torture."

"Patience, you hunk."

The nickname catches him off guard, you've never called him that before, and his eyes darken impossibly further.

"Call me that again."

"Make me."

You hook your fingers into his pants and pull them down his thighs, leaving him in just those red boxers, his erection straining against the thin fabric. 

A wet spot has already formed at the tip, and you run your thumb over it, spreading the moisture.

"Shit, baby—" he chokes out, his head falling back against the seat. "Your fingers, they’re so—fuck—"

You lean down, your breath ghosting over him through the fabric, and he lets out a sound that's half-moan, half-whimper.

"Please, baby, don't tease me—"

"Where's that famous composure, Ki?" you murmur, pressing a kiss to his tip through the cotton. "The big bad mafia leader, falling apart from just this?"

"I'll show you falling apart," he threatens, but his voice cracks on the words. "Just wait until I get my hands on you."

"Maybe I don't want you to."

"Liar."

You grip the waistband of his boxers with your teeth, and his whole body jerks.

"Holy shit, you're—shit, so sexy, fuck—"

You drag the fabric down slowly, torturously, inch by inch, revealing the sharp cut of his hip bones and the base of his cock. 

His abdominal muscles are trembling, tensing and releasing with every shaky breath.

When you finally pull the fabric down enough for him to spring free, he's flushed and leaking, hard enough that it looks almost painful. 

He's thick and long, bigger than you could’ve ever imagined, veins running along the underside that you want to trace with your tongue.

"God, Ki," you breathe, taking him in. "You're so fucking thick. How am I supposed to take all of this?"

"Trust me, baby," he groans, his voice wrecked. "You'll take it. You'll take every fucking inch because you're my good girl, and good girls take what they're given."

The filth spilling from his mouth makes you clench around nothing, arousal dripping from you.

You wrap your hand around the base of him, feeling him pulse in your grip. He's hot, hard, velvet over steel. 

You lean in and kitten-lick the tip, gathering the precum beading there.

The sound that tears from his throat is obscene, a broken moan that echoes through the car.

"That's it," he rasps, straining against the handcuffs. "Fuck, your tongue—so good, mmgh, just like that—"

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting your saliva coat his length. The weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating, and you moan around him, the vibration making him buck up involuntarily.

"Shit, I’m sorry, can't—" He's losing control, his hips twitching, trying so hard to stay still but failing. "Your mouth, princess, you have no idea what you do to me—"

You pull back to breathe, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. The sight makes him curse under his breath.

"Look at you," he growls. "So pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock. Such a good little thing for me."

You take him again, deeper this time, relaxing your throat. 

But he's too big, you can't fit all of him, so you stroke what you can't reach, twisting your wrist on the upstroke, rubbing your thumb over the sensitive spot beneath the head.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, baby—" His voice is cracking, his thighs trembling violently against the leather seats. "You're—you're gonna make me—"

The handcuffs clink against the seat as he strains, desperate to touch you, to grab your hair, to control the pace. 

But he can't. 

He's completely at your mercy, and it's driving him insane.

"Just like that, baby, princess, you're doing so well—taking me so good—" His words are punctuated by groans and gasps, his chest heaving. "Missed you, missed this, missed your mouth—your hands—everything—"

You hum around him, and he almost sobs.

"I'm, fuck—wait, princess, I'm gonna—"

You don't stop. If anything, you move faster, sucking harder, determined to push him over the edge. Your hand works in tandem with your mouth, slick and fast and relentless.

"Shit, you're—you're gonna make me come, baby, wait, want to come inside you—"

It's too darn late. 

With a broken cry, he spills into your mouth, hot and thick and so much of it. You swallow what you can, some of it spilling from the corners of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

He comes down slowly, his body going boneless against the seat, his chest heaving. His eyes are glassy, distant, completely fucked out.

When you finally pull off him with a wet pop, he stares at you with something between awe and obsession.

"Come here," he rasps.

You climb up his body, and he captures your mouth in a messy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. He groans into it, filthy and unashamed.

"You're such a greedy little slut," he murmurs against your lips, but there's nothing but reverence in his voice. "Taking everything I gave you. So perfect. So fucking perfect."

You reach up and unlock the handcuffs, freeing his wrists. The moment his hands are free, he's on you, flipping your positions until you're beneath him on the leather seat, his eyes dark with renewed hunger.

"My turn," he growls.

His hands find your pants, undoing them and yanking them down your legs along with your underwear in one impatient motion. 

The cool air hits your soaked core, and you shiver.

"Look at you," he breathes, staring at your glistening folds. "So wet. Did sucking me off turn you on that much, baby? Got yourself all messy just from having my cock in your mouth?"

"Yes, god—" you admit, shameless.

"Filthy girl." But he sounds pleased. "Let me clean you up."

He starts to lower his head, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.

"Wait, I need you, right now, please—"

"But baby, I need to taste you—"

"Later, fuck me first, please, Ki—"

The desperation in your voice must get to him, because he curses and nods.

"Okay, princess. Okay. I've got you."

He lifts you effortlessly, settling you onto his lap, your core pressing against his already-hardening length. You're so wet that you slide against him easily, coating him in your arousal.

"Already hard again?" you tease, though your voice is breathless.

"For you? Always." He grips himself, positioning at your entrance. "You have no idea what you do to me. Could stay hard for you forever."

He starts to push in, and you both groan at the contact. Just the tip, but you already feel impossibly full.

"That's it," he soothes, his hands gripping your hips to steady you. "Just the tip, baby. You're doing so good."

He pushes in further, inch by agonizing inch, and you feel yourself stretching around him. It's overwhelming, the burn, the fullness, the intimacy.

"Fuck, you're so tight, so wet…" His voice is strained, his control hanging by a thread. "Relax for me, princess. Shit, let me in."

You try, forcing your muscles to unclench, and he slides in deeper.

"That's it, such a good girl, baby, you're taking me so well—"

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he's fully seated inside you. You stay there for a moment, trembling, trying to adjust to the impossible stretch.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice softer now, genuine concern bleeding through.

"Y-yeah. Just—you're so, so big, Riki. I feel so full."

He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder. "You can't say shit like that. I'm trying so hard to be gentle."

"Don't be gentle."

His head snaps up, his eyes dark. "Baby—"

"I can take it. I want it. Fuck me, Ki. Make me feel it."

Something in him snaps.

He lifts you up and slams you back down, and you scream. It's too much, it's perfect, it's everything.

"That's it, scream for me, let me hear how good I make you feel—"

He sets a brutal pace, bouncing you on his cock, using you like you're nothing more than a toy. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, obscene and wet.

"Shit, Ki, please—"

"Please what, princess? Use your words."

"Harder, I need it harder—"

He flips you onto your back, hiking your legs over his shoulders, and drives into you so deep you see stars.

"Like this? Is this what you needed, baby? Needed me to split you open on my cock?"

"Yes, god, yes—"

His hand finds your clit, rubbing tight circles, and you feel your orgasm building already.

"Come for me, baby. Come on my cock like a good girl."

You shatter, screaming his name, clenching around him so hard he hisses. But he doesn't stop — he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

"One more, give me one more—"

"I can't, it's way too much—"

"You can. You will. Be a good girl and come for me again."

He angles his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision white out, and you come again with a broken sob, squirting around him.

"That's it, fuck, such a good girl, making a mess on my dick like the needy slut you are—"

His thrusts grow erratic, his breathing ragged.

"Where do you want it, baby? Inside? On your face? Tell me —"

"Inside, come inside me, please—"

He buries himself deep and comes with a groan, filling you with warmth. You can feel him pulsing inside you, pumping you full, and it's so dirty and perfect that you nearly come again from the sensation.

He stays inside you for a moment, catching his breath, before slowly pulling out. You feel his release trickling out of you, and he groans at the sight.

"Look at that," he murmurs. "So pretty with my cum dripping out of you."

He reaches down, gathering some on his fingers and pushing it back inside. You whimper, oversensitive.

"Can't let any go to waste, baby. This is mine. You're mine."

He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. You're both a mess, covered in sweat and come and saliva, but neither of you cares.

"I love you," he whispers against your hair. "I still love you so, so much. I have so much love to give you."

You cling to him, overwhelmed, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"I love you too," you murmur. "But Ki... how? Our jobs — we're on opposite sides—"

He pulls back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. His eyes are soft, earnest, the same eyes you fell in love with all those years ago.

"We'll find a way," he says firmly. "Because love knows no bounds. It's you. It'll always be you, no matter what."

He presses a final kiss to your forehead, then gently brushes the tangled hair from your face, wiping away the sweat and the remnants of your shared passion. 

His touch is so gentle, so tender, a stark contrast to the filth that was spilling from his mouth minutes ago.

"I love you," he says again, softer this time. "Let me love you. Let me figure this out."

You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay."

⭐️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[hoonkitti]

shared secret ─ ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

best friends who share everything… including their side chick.

𓊆박성훈 & 심재윤& 박종성 x fem reader𓊇 baby, is it me or are you doing something to me? when you smile, it’s shining, but for some reason, you’re lying inside. dangerously, you’re beautiful. you slowly came to me, my dilemma like a habit. ─ baby don't like it, nct127 ⫶ 𐔌masterlist꒱

𓆩♡𓆪 wow hi :< it's been a minute since i wrote + something so long + smut?! + foursome?!?!?! ... i'm super sorry in advance if this is so shit because yk i don't reread my smut and this is genuinely just 10k of filth hahsheahs and i miss u guys so much kisses kisses kisses :x

word count 10k content advisory heavy infidelity/cheating, lowkey polyamory? possessiveness, side chick, jay is a football player, jake is a nerd, toxic relationship, moral ambiguity, hoes before bros or whatever, no one's a good person here, mentioned of underage drinking (1), kinda sunghoon biased i'm so sorry, non proofread! smut advisory foursome (fmmm), very nasty mayne, different sex scenes, squirt, fingering, cum stuffing, oral, fellatio, pussy licking/sucking, lots of making out jesus, dirty talk, profanity, locker room fucking, creampie, cumshot, tit play, jake's in love with your tits and sunghoon can't stop kissing you, flirting, jay's gentler than the others, jake is lowkey a softdom/sub, sunghoon's a hard-dom and mean, use of slut, whore, cumdump etc. doggy style, side-fucking, missionary, creampie after creampie, car sex, hotel sex... might miss out some but pls.

growing up as a trio—jake, sunghoon, and jay always, and always made sure that no secrets are kept from one another. from highschool, and attending the same college, they stuck together like glue—rooming in the same dorm block, sharing the same late–night runs, copying each other’s work despite not taking the same major but shared classes.

they called themselves 02z (and sunghoon always thought that it was corny) and no matter what happened, the rule was simple: no secrets. everything got laid out on the table—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the embarrassing. 

and they’d proven it time and time again.

like the time jake got stupidly drunk at a house party at the age of seventeen, and jay had to haul his half–conscious ass back through the window of his bedroom while sunghoon knocked on the front door and entertained jake’s father from finding out.

or the time jay accidentally broke the school’s window and to prevent him from getting suspended and kicked out of the football team, jake stepped forward and took the blame—”i threw it too hard to impress a girl, sorry.” he flashed that innocent puppy smile and accepted the week’s detention without complaint. jay never forgot it and paid him back by covering his shifts for two whole weeks.

but the real payment was the tighter bond between them.

“ride or die,” sunghoon had said once. and in a world where friendships were shallow and people stabbed each other in the back, the three of them were unbreakable. like a stream of water, it cannot be cut—

but even the strongest stream can be diverted when the faucet is turned.

——

 funny enough—the first time jay saw you was during one of his football friendly matches. 

it was a casual friday afternoon game, nothing serious, just the medic faculty versus the business for bragging rights and free drinks afterward. jay was on the field in his number 99 jersey, sweat already soaking the back of his neck under the orange sun.

his girlfriend, minji, was sitting in the small bleachers with a couple of her friends, waving at him every time he glanced her way. he’d blown her a kiss before the whistle, the perfect boyfriend move that made his teammates tease him later.

and you weren’t even supposed to be there for him. 

you were merely just a friend with one of the strikers in his team—and had come along because he (martin) had begged you to at least pretend to cheer so he doesn’t look like a loser. you sat on the grass near the sidelines, knees pulled up in those pretty shorts and prettier top. 

you weren’t attention seeking or loud, but jay found his eyes travelling to you more often than he’d like to. light, genuine laughter that cut through the noise of the field and scored him square in the chest. he almost lost the ball.

and if it wasn’t after the match that everyone gathered near the benches to talk about what happened and martin pulled you in to join the conversation. you, being youself—ever so friendly and talkative you, even prettier up close and funnier than most girls he know—chatted with the rest of the boys like you’d known them for months.

jay stood there, still catching his breath, tower slung over his shoulder, watching you. the conversation flowed naturally and he found himself grinning wider than he should, eyes lingering on the way your lips curved when you smiled.

“you played so well. even if your team totally got lucky on that last goal,” you commented, casually sitting next to jay on the bench. jay laughed, humming. “yeah? that never happened by the way—so it was probably your luck.”

you raised an eyebrow, amused, turning your body slightly toward him. “you think so?”

the way you said it made something in his chest tighten in the best way possible. most girls would either just giggle or try too hard, but you looked like you were genuinely enjoying the back–and–forth. 

he leaned back on the bench, resting his elbows behind him. his jersey clung to his chest, damp with sweat, but neither of you care. for once, he was grateful his girlfriend wasn’t around.

“maybe,” he replied, that smirk tugging at his lips. “or maybe you’re bad luck for the other team. every time you cheered us, their defense fell apart. i saw it.”

you let out the laugh that got him almost distracted on the field earlier—and shook your head. “you’re so smooth, jay. do you use that line on every girl who watches your game?” 

uh, oh. 

his smirk faltered for half a second. he let out a quick, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck to play it cool. “of course not,” he said, chuckling a little too loudly. “that would be way too cheesy. i swear i’m not that kind of guy.”

you tilted your head, studying him with glint in your eyes. then, casually, almost too casually, you dropped it—

“i thought so! you kept blowing kisses to a girl earlier. i saw it.”

jay went quiet.

the easy smile on his face froze. his fingers tightened slightly around his water bottle as the words landed. he swore—he swore—he didn’t mean to come off as flirty or anything, but it just… came out naturally. 

like it was just you.

for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. he hadn’t even realised you’d noticed that. 

“yeah, well…” he started, voice trailing off. he looked away for a second, heartbeat drumming fast, searching for the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete asshole. 

before he could finish, you broke into a soft giggle and waved your hand lightly in front of him. “i’m just joking, hehe,” you said, mischievous. “relax. you don’t have to look so guilty.”

jay let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the tension in his shoulder easing as he laughed along. you were teasing him, but the way you said it so playfully made his tummy flip. 

he finally met your eyes, watching the way your lips curved when you smiled like that. relax. you don’t have to look so guilty. then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to you. 

“put your number in,” he said, smoother and calmer now. “next time we play, you could be our lucky charm again.” 

you’re not stupid. if anything, martin would’ve invited you to the next matches anyway. but you took the phone anyway—fingers brushed against his. you saved yourself as yn, followed with a little soccer ball emoji and handed it back.

“don’t blow me kisses though,” you teased lightly as you stood up, brushing invisible dust from your shorts.

jay watched your back as you walked away, phone warm in his hand, your contact staring back at him. it’s harmless—it’s just a number and you’re just a girl who was easy and fun to talk to.

but the further you got from him, the more it’s clear to jay that he was going to text you tonight. 

and the first turn of the faucet happened—quietly, and completely without anyone knowing, not even jay himself.

——

“oh my gosh, my player,” you moaned sensually, tipping your head back as jay lifted you up around his waist with ease. 

his strong hands gripped the back of your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pressed you against the cool metal locker. the contrast between the cold surface on your back and the heat of his body made you shiver.

jay’s mouth was on yours instantly—hungry, deep, messy, and horny. he kissed you like he’d been starving from it since the first whistle was blown, tongue sliding against yours while low groans rumbled deep from his chest. 

“fuck baby, you feel so good like this,” he rasped between kisses, grinding his hard cock against your bare pussy. the thin fabric of his shorts was the only thing separating you, and you could feel every inch of him throbbing, already leaking like a little boy for you. 

“my little reward.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as you rocked your hips against him, chasing the friction. “hngh—you did so well… how are you so good at everything?” another sensual moan slipped from your lips when he shifted and rubbed the head of his cock against your swollen clit. 

“am i?” his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting lightly, leaving faint marks he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t stop himself from making. one hand stayed under your thigh, holding you up effortlessly, while the other squeezed your tit, thumb flicking over your perky nipple until you whimpered. 

“look at you,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse with list. “so fucking wet and ready for me after i won. you like being my secret celebration, baby?” 

you nodded eagerly, pussy twitching and clenching around nothing but the idea of jay’s thick cock inside. sensing that—he pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, tip glistening with a bead of precum. 

“i want you—fuck me, please,” you cry out, leaning to kiss him.

without another word, jay lined himself up and pushed inside you in one slow, deep thrust—stretching you open, filling you completely. a broken moan tore from your throat as he bottomed out, walls clenching tight around him. the guy buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly at how perfectly you took him. 

“shit… so tight,” he breathed, staying still to let you adjust—but not for long before he started moving, sensual, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock against every sensitive spot. “oh god, yesyesyes, just like that,”

the locker rattled with every thrust. your legs tightened around his waist, heels dragging into his lower back as he fucked you against the cool metal, mouth never leaving your skin. he kissed, licked, and sucked at your neck and collarbone while his pace gradually picked up, turning deeper and harder.

“mine tonight,” he whispered roughly, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles on your wet, sensitive clit. you moaned louder, bud ticklish and feeling like you were going to squirt—which you did, just seconds after. 

jay’s so good and gentle with how he’s treating you it’s making your chest flutter. “yours, jay, yours,” you gasped as the head of his cock knocked against your cervix—jerking your body upwards with each pound.

“my pretty little trophy… taking my cock so well after the game.”

your moans grew louder, more desperate, echoing softly in the empty, locked, locker room as he drove into you again and again and again—sensual, hot, sinful, and so fucking good.

jay’s breathing turned ragged, forehead pressed to yours as he chased both your highs, the wet slap of your skin and your shared gasps filling the air. the player ended up cumming—shooting ropes and ropes of warm jizz on your pretty little face, landing some on your head.

seeing how well you’re cleaning his cock—jay realised he was far from done with you.

——

for sim jaeyun, everything had its place, neatly stacked in order of importance.

first came his family—always. then his friends (sunghoon and jay at top, then the rest of the people he knows). layla, his border collie, squeezed into that top tier too. studies came strongly after that because he believed it’s 100% his future—

and finally, only then—way down the list—came fun.

and fun included his girlfriend, chloe. she was sweet, understanding, and never complained when he told her he had to study late or hang out with the boys. jake liked that about her—she knew her place in his priorities, and she respected it.

he never meant to rearrange that list. 

“sorry we can’t do this at my apartment,” jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “my girlfriend’s been staying over a lot lately and… yeah. i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

you and jake shared multiple classes since the start of the semester, sitting in the same lecture halls but he’d never really talked to you. not until the professor paired you two together for a major project that counted half of the final grade.

now here you were—tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner of the library on the third floor. jake sat across from you, laptop open, highlighter between his teeth as he scribbled notes. you leaned back in your chair, legs crossed, a small knowing smile playing on your lips.

unlike the easy friendliness you’d shown jay, something about jake brought out a slightly different side of you—a bit more teasing, more… dominant? like you enjoyed watching the good boy squirm a little. 

“that’s okay, jakey,” you replied, tilting your head, eyes locked onto his. “anywhere is fine at least we get it done, right?”

jake blinked, caught off guard by the nickname but didn’t comment on it. his cheeks warmed slightly, but he laughed it off. “yeah… exactly. studies first, you know? gotta keep priorities straight.” 

you hummed, leaning forward on your elbow, chin resting on your hand as you watched him. jake had to do everything just from glancing at your cleavage sticking out from your shirt. the way your gaze lingered made the air between you feel a little heavier, more intimate—and jake figured this was why most girls wouldn’t want their boyfriends around a girl.

a pretty one at that too.

“that’s good. keeping everything in order like that, hehe.”

the words slipped out casually but jake’s ears turned pink anyway. he shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper–aware of how secluded this corner was—no one could really see the two of you back here.

he tried to steer the conversation back to the project, pointing at the screen as you scooted closer beside him. “so… for this second, i was thinking we could—”

“oh—you typed quantitative wrong here—” 

you leaned in and pointed at the typo on his laptop screen. in the process, your chest brushed against his arm, soft and warm through your thin top that jake swore he felt the sponge of your bra. 

jake froze.

his breath hitched, eyes widening for a split second as he felt the brief press of your chest against his bicep. a rush of heat shot straight through him and you felt the way he tensed up.

“oh—shit, sorry,” you said quickly, pulling back a little, though your voice didn’t sound even an ounce of guilt if he was being honest. “didn’t mean to interrupt you like that.”

his mouth went dry. he could still feel the ghost of the touch on his arm, and his brain was suddenly struggling to form normal sentences. “n—no, it’s okay,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks now matching the pink of his ears.

“don’t worry about it.”

you bit your lip to hide a small smile, watching the way composed jake was suddenly flustered. the good boy who kept his priorities straight was starting to crack a little. instead of moving back, you stayed right where you were—shoulders almost touching his, close enough that your perfume filled his nostrils. 

you pointed at the screen again, this time more carefully, your nails tapping on the lcd. your voice dropped softer, with a hint of light dominant slipping through.  

“see? right here. fix it, jakey.”

jake swallowed hard, nodding quickly as his fingers moved to the keyboard. but it was hard to focus on the project anymore—not when every time you shifted even slightly, he became hyper–aware of how close you were, and how dangerous his mind was playing at.

that damn cleavage and top.

maybe it was because jake met you during one of his ‘studying’ sessions, but you were quick to climb up his carefully built hierarchy. just like jay, you were easy to talk to, quick with your thoughts, and somehow jake liked… being told what to do. shamelessly.

“you’re so good at this,” you hummed softly, scooting your chair just a tiny bit closer until your knee brushed his under the table. “what’s something you’re not good at?” 

you meant the project—but you also knew men like jake would divert the meaning elsewhere. something jake’s not good at is probably standing on his morals and keeping his priorities straight. 

not when he’s easily swayed like this.

——

just two months after that, jake’s stacked priorities crumbled.

parked in a quiet, dimly lit corner of the campus parking lot at 11:49 p.m., the backseat of his car fogged up. he had a chemistry exam the next day—yet here he was. 

“jakey…” you whispered against his mouth, voice low and teasing as you cupped his cheeks, fingers tapping against his skin. “you’re thinking too much again.” you continued, straddling his lap and brushing your lips against his.

“it’s late…” he breathed, even as his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you down harder against the obvious bulge in his jeans. “test t’morrow… chloe… fuck, this is so wrong.”

you pouted playfully, rolling your hips and grinding against him in the meantime. “but you’ll ace the test tomorrow anyway, why bother?” you hummed, pressing your lips against him. jake groaned, head falling back against the seat. you purposely ignored the latter problem.

his morals screamed at him, but his body betrayed him completely.

clothes were pushed aside rather than fully removed—your skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side, his jeans shoved down just enough. he had you on all fours, exactly how he liked it best: doggy style.

as all up for him to watch as it jiggles—yeah, fuck yeah. jake’s hands gripped your hips tightly as he pushed into you from behind in one, full, deep thrust—instantly burying himself deep with a broken moan.

“shit—you feel so good, yn,” he gasped, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades for a second. the angle was beyond perfect—the cramped car, and your tight, wet, cunt while being so deep he could feel every clench around him. 

“uh huh? what else?”

he started moving, savouring the way your back arched for him, the way you pushed back to meet every thrust, the way your ass jiggled when his pelvis slapped ‘em. “so tight, your pussy’s so tight, yn,” he rasped, picking up his pace. jake’s hips snapped harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the space of the car. “i love it—love your pussy,”

jake’s cock was probably the longest you’ve had, reaching so deep your fingers, toys, and other boys had never been able to. “oh god, jakey, you’re so good,” you moaned aloud, palms flat against the fogged window.

“you’re ruining me,” jake groaned, one hand sliding up to push you down lower, chest pressed against the seat while your ass stayed up for him. “can’t stop thinkin’ about this—about you.”

his balls slapped against your wet pussy, dragging you velvet walls with each time he pulled out. you moaned sensually, gripping the edge of the seat as he fucked you faster, coming close. “then don’t stop, just do me all the time.”

that pushed him over the edge. 

the boy’s grip tightened. he pulled you back onto his cock, deep with every thrust. the car rocked with his movements. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, sweat dripping down his temple, morals completely shattered as he took you exactly how he loved—deep, rough, playful.

“want your cum, gosh—fuck, cum all over me,” you gasped, saliva leaking out from the edge of your mouth. your pussy squelched with every thrust, juices splattering on the leather seat. what a shame to the girlfriend, really.

he leaned over you, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other braced beside your head, pounding into you harder as he began chasing his end. “shouldn’t… i really shouldn’t…” he groaned, voice strained and broken.

“c’mon, be a good boy—give it to me, cumcumcum,”

the praise pushed him over—with a final moan, jake pulled out of your dripping pussy. he flipped you onto your back in one motion, trapping you between his knees. his hand pumped his slick, wet cock furiously, eyes dark and wild as he hovered above you.

you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes—lips parted, chest heaving, already arching your back and pushing your tits together for him. his abs tensed, jaw clenched tight.

“shit—i’m cumming—!”

thick liquidity, warm ropes of cum shot across your chest in messy spurts, painting your tits and collarbones white. some landed right on your nipple, dripping slowly down the curve which only caused jake to cum some more.

fuck, that’s so fucking hot—he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat as he kept stroking himself through it, milking every last drop until his cock twitched empty and his whole body shuddered. 

you licked around your lips, smearing jake’s cum all over your pretty tits. it looked like you were lactating his cum. 

“fuck… am i good enough, yn?” he murmured, chest heaving. “look at what you do to me.”

——

saturday night and sunghoon’s at a popular off–campus club with a group of his classmates. while he’s not much of a party guy, he came because one of them kept dragging him anyway, and he knew he couldn’t keep rejecting their advances for so long.

he’s sitting in the booth area, nursing drunks, bored, and detached while everyone else is loud and drunk. sunghoon doesn’t dance. doesn’t flirt. just watch.

that’s when he saw you.

you’re on the dance floor with your girlfriends, just being effortlessly sexy and attractive—the way your body swayed, hair sticking on your neck from the heat, the same curve of your smile that jay was starstrucked with. 

and that damn black dress that hugged your curves just right.

sunghoon’s eyes locked on you instantly, he didn't smile when your eyes met his as well across the floor—just watching. instead of looking away shyly, you held his gaze for a few seconds, then your eyes travelled from the top of his head down to his shoes, and  gave him a slow smile before turning back to your friends.

that was all it took for him.

sunghoon stood up, leaving his classmates’ drinks and stuffs on the table, and walked straight onto the crowd. he didn’t say anything at first—just slid in behind you, one hand slightly resting on your waist as he spun you around to meet him. 

“hey,” he murmured, tall frame towering over you. “what’s that about?”

you tilted your head slightly, a playful, faux innocence smile playing on your lips. “what’s what about?”

his eyebrows furrowed just a fraction, but the corner of his mouth twitched—the tiniest hint of amusement and a thought of, wow, the audacity. his hand stayed on your waist, thumb pressing lightly into the fabric of your dress, holding you in place. 

“that look you gave me,” he said, shrugging. “are you daring me?”

you let out a soft laugh that almost sounded like a scoff, eyes sparkling and laced with a kind of bratness that he never knew he was into. you didn’t pull away but instead stepped a little closer, letting your chest brush against his as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“and if i am?” you replied, sweetly. “what are you gonna do about it?”

morality had always been quite a blur to sunghoon.

he never lost sleep over it but rules, right and wrong, loyalty—they were just concepts that applied to other people. as long as it didn’t affect his image or his life or his close circle greatly, he didn’t care enough to draw hard lines.

and tonight, those blurry lines had just walked out of the club with him.

sunghoon didn’t say much as he guided you toward his black sedan by holding your hand in his. you glanced up at him, still wearing that same little smile. “you always drag girls out of clubs without asking their name?”

he unlocked the car with a soft beep and opened the front door for you. his eyes met yours—completely unbothered. “sunghoon,” he said simply. “and i don’t bring girls out anywhere.”

you let out a hum, but still slid into the front seat without hesitation. he followed right after, closing the door behind him. the inside of his car smelled strongly of his cologne, and as he started the engine, he didn’t bother with small talks. didn’t ask where you lived, nor did he offer to take you home. 

sunghoon pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the city centre with his one hand occasionally brushing your thigh. you watched the streetlights flicker across his jawline and the way his expression said nothing eventhough the tension between you two in the car reeked with want.

“so… where are we going?”

“a hotel. closer than my place.”

——

the door had barely clicked shut before sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, mouth crashing into yours in a deep. hungry kiss. there was nothing gentle about it—his lips moved against yours with need, tongue sliding in immediately to taste you as one hand gripped your jaw, and the other pressed on your hip. 

and you—you kissed him back just as greedily, fingers digging into his shoulders, tugging at his shirt like you wanted it off yesterday. “ngh—hngh,” you moaned into his mouth, tongue intertwining and sucking on one another.

sunghoon broke the kiss only long enough to pull your dress up and over your head at once, letting it drop to the floor. his hands were on you instantly—squeezing your tits, sliding down to grip your ass, yanking you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was through his pants.

“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, voice low. he bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue before kissing you again, deeper this time. 

you moaned into his mouth, hands working frantically to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. the moment his bare chest pressed against yours, sunghoon groaned and lifted you up. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried you across the room, lips still on yours.

he dropped you onto the bed, the mattress dipping. before you could even catch your breath, sunghoon was crawling over you, shoving his pants and boxers fully down to free his thick, heavy cock.

and jesus—unlike jay or jake’s, sunghoon was packing. 

“you’re so hot,” sunghoon licked his lips, hooked his fingers into your panties, ripped them down your legs, and spread your thighs wide open with his knees. he looked down at you for one brief second, then lined himself up. 

“are you gonna fuck me? without even knowing my name?”

sunghoon paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cocky smirk. finally, he didn’t look cold. he pushed just the tip inside you, teasing, before answering.

“i know you, yn,”

your eyes almost widened, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across your features. 

“how?”

he leaned down closer, one hand gripping your thigh as he slowly sank another inch deeper, stretching your tight cunt open. “i overhead your friends,” he murmured, hissing through his teeth as your pussy engulfed him. 

you let out a soft moan, back arching as the familiar burn of being stretched came back to you. “fuck… you’re really something, hoonie.”

sunghoon bottomed out with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you. for a second, he stayed still—letting you feel and adjust every inch of him, his grip on your thighs tightened. you arched your back, eyes half–lidded as you looked up at him, that spark still burning bright behind your eyes. 

“fuck me good, hoonie,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip as you began palming and playing with your tits, tweaking the perky buds. “make it worth me leaving my friends for you.”

“shh—shut up and let me do the work.”

that night, sunghoon fucked you for hours—the bed creaked loudly beneath as he fucked you deep and fast, hips snapping against yours with every thrust. his hands held your thighs spread wide, keeping you open as he pounded. the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the hotel room.

“fuck—your cunt feels s’good,” sunghoon moaned, tipping his head against the headrest, jaw clenched tight. you hovered right over his hard, slick cock. sunghoon’s eyes never left yours as you sank down onto him, taking every inch until your ass met his lap.

a broken moan left your lips at the deeper angle. sunghoon groaned too, his fingers digging harder. “look at you,” he murmured, eyes roaming over your face, your bouncing, marked, tits, lips parted in pleasure with your tongue sticking out. 

fuck. this is why sunghoon loved cowgirl. watching every lewd, pretty expression, every flutter of your eyelashes, your mouth opened to moan his name—because of this cock. 

you started moving, rolling your hips in sensual circles, then bouncing on his cock with more force. his hands guided you, but he let you do most of the work, just like he liked it. his gaze stayed locked on your face the entire time. 

“you’re so big, hoonie, oh jesus fuck,” you moaned eagerly, biting your lip. with each time you bounced on it, the head of his cock kissed your cervix sweetly and it felt so fucking good. he pulled you down closer by the nape of your neck, and kissed you deeply while you rode him. 

“that’s it… just like that, baby,” he rasped against your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. “ride my cock like a good girl—let me see how pretty you look when you cum on me again.”

his free hand moved between your bodies to circle and pinch your perky buds. the combination made your rhythm falter, thighs shaking as you bounced faster, chasing the high. 

sunghoon kept watching you—obsessed. he kissed you again and again, swallowing your moans, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your movements and driving himself even deeper.

“cummin’ soon, babe?” he murmured against your lips, now moving his hand to rub that sensitive, wet, clit. “cum on me—then i’ll fill you up.”

you could only moan his name as the pleasure built higher and higher, your hips moving desperately. 

sunghoon, who never thought he’d ever cheat on sooha, let alone creampie another girl he just met raw—watched your face with almost possessive gaze. he had always been careful, even with someone who has little to no morals. 

and you—who had literally never let anyone cum inside you before—were seconds away from letting him be the first.

your thighs shook as the orgasm crashed over you. “fuck—!” you cried out, clenching hard around him, hips stuttering as you came and squirted all over his cock. the feeling of your pussy pulsing and gushing around him pushed sunghoon over the edge. 

thick, hot spurts of semen flooded inside you, filling you up the very first time. he kept thrusting through it, pushing his cum deeper. 

one night stand—this won’t ruin anything for sunghoon.

right?

——

“so,” jay started, leaning back against the railing with that smirk of his, “valentine’s next week. you guys already got plans locked in?” 

jake nodded, smiling. “don’t even say it. i booked the restaurant last month because i know she’ll kill me if i forget. we’ll probs just have dinner together.” he shook his head, sipping his canned beer. “gotta keep the girlfriend happy, right?”

sunghoon took a slow sip of his as well, shrugging and unbothered as ever. “i’ll probably just take sooha out on a breakfast and shopping. i got plans that night.” 

jay raised an eyebrow, turning to him with curiousity. “oh? what are you doing that night?”

he didn’t even flinch, just stared down at the small puddle of water around the can opening where his mouth kissed it. “bringing yeji out,” he said, absentmindedly swirling the alcohol in the can. “she’s been begging me to take her out. figured valentine’s night is as good as any.”

jake let out a laugh, completely buying it. “damn, she’s gonna milk you dry.” he commented, then glanced at jay from where he’s sitting. “what about you? something big again?”

“nah, think minji wants something intimate this time.” he hummed, looking out at the yard—people were chatting, dancing, and drunk to their heads. “maybe i’ll cook and we’ll spend the day at mine. who knows.” 

“what a romance.”

the three of them continued talking easily—hopping from one topic to another—arguing whose girlfriend was more demanding, whose more whipped, and reminiscing about things they’ll never get back. 

none of them even knew that they each shared the same secret—and little did they know, she was walking around the party downstairs right under their noses. 

down in the crowded kitchen, you leaned against the counter, red cup in hand, while heeseung stood in front of you—close enough that his arm rested on the counter beside your waist. 

“oh, i don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, taking a small sip from your cup while holding his gaze. heeseung grinned, leaning in a little closer and lowering his voice so only you could hear him over the loud music. 

“good. because i’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. you’re always so hard to catch alone.” his fingers lightly tapped the counter next to your hip. “what do you say? let me take you somewhere nice this valentines?”

you bit your lip, pretending to think about it—

but before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the noise. 

“yn?” 

sunghoon.

he was frowning. the usual expression on his face didn’t change much except for the tightness of his jaw, and the way his gaze flicked to heeseung’s hand near your hip.

heeseung turned his head, still smiling. “oh, hey man—”

sunghoon didn’t let him finish.

without a word, he reached out, wrapped his fingers around your waist and firmly pulled you away from the counter and away from heeseung. “come with me,” he said quietly, already leaving the kitchen.

you barely had time to shoot heeseung an apologetic smile before sunghoon guided you through the crowd, up the stairs, and into one of the empty guest rooms on the second floor. he closed the door—but didn’t lock it—the party noise instantly muffled.

“the fuck was that?” he asked, frowning and confused. “heeseung? really? you let him get that close to you?”

sunghoon took a step closer, towering over, eyes narrowed. 

“i thought we had an understanding,” he continued, laced with unfair possessiveness. “you didn’t even tell me you’d be here—then i caught you with some dude flirting?” 

before you could form a reply, his hand came up to grip your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you couldn’t wait till i take you out on valentines?”

you looked up at him, a scoff escaped you—and a small smile tugged at your lips. “so you can have fun with sooha… but i can’t do the same with heeseung?”

his jaw tightened; and for a second, he just stared at you, thumb brushing over your lower lips. he let out a low, breathy scoff, almost a laugh—but there was no humour in it. “you’re really testing me,” he murmured, clicking his tongue.

“sooha’s my girlfriend. she gets breakfast and shopping because that’s what keeps everything quiet. you…” he paused, free hand slid down to your waist where he squeezed the flesh. “you get me at night. isn’t that better? i’m about to fuck you all night and you’re gettin’ jealous over some fucking breakfast?”

he tilted your head slightly, fingers digging into your flesh. 

“don’t compare yourself to her. and don’t let another guy put his hands near you again.”

he crashed his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss, gripping your jaw tighter as he devoured your mouth. the kiss was messy and intense—tongues sliding, teeth grazing, low groans between you.

you kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his hair and tugging hard, making him groan into your mouth.

“fuuuccckkk,” he grunted between the kiss—turning and walking you backwards until your legs hut the edge of the bed. without breaking the kiss, sunghoon pushed you down onto the mattress and climbed on top of you, body pressing into the sheets. 

his hands roamed greedily—one sliding under your dress to grip your thigh, the other pinning your wrists above your head. “oh my, hngh,” you moaned softly, arching up into him as he ground his hips down against you. sunghoon bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue.

“always pissin’ me off—”

his phone suddenly started ringing on the nightstand.

sunghoon ignored it initially, lips moving down to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark as the ringing continued. “jesus—shut the fuck up…” he murmured, merely glancing at his phone. he assumed it was just one of his friends, or just anyone but—

“sunghoon, you in here—?”

jake’s voice died in his throat. jay stood right beside him, phone in his hand—both of them froze in the doorway, eyes wide as they took in the scene. 

you lying on the bed, dress hiked up, lips swollen from kissing. sunghoon on top of you, one hand under your dress, his lips glistened from saliva, hair messy from your fingers.

for a long, suffocating second, nobody moved. 

sunghoon’s head snapped up, eyes widening in genuine shock, his expression completely shattered—he was caught. fucking caught. by his own bestfriends. they weren’t supposed to fucking know that he’s not loyal to sooha. the same two guys he swore loyalty to since teenangers.

the colour drained from his face. 

jake and jay stared, wide–eyed, stunned. 

“...yn?” jake breathed out first, voice barely above a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. jay’s mouth opened, then closed—replaced by pure disbelief. instead of addressing the elephant in the room—which was sunghoon fucking cheating—your name came out first. 

the realisation hit them both at the same time—how the fuck did all of them came to know you? if jay knew you because of his affair, and jake knew you too—and sunghoon too—then were they all having an affair with you?

they’d been secretly fucking the same girl for months—?!

you, still pinned under sunghoon, felt your stomach drop.

“oh my fucking gosh…” you whispered, eyes wide, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you before you could stop it. you propped yourself up on your elbows, hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was useless. 

the shock, the absurdity, the fact that you had been playing all three of them without any of them knowing… it was all crashing down at once. 

sunghoon finally pulled his hand out from under your dress and sat up slightly. he looked between his two bestfriends, voice strained. “look—this isn’t what it looks like.”

jake let out a broken, disbelieving laugh. “you’re on top of her, dude.”

jay’s grip tightened—he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. 

“you.. and sunghoon?” his voice cracked. “how long has this been going on?”

the room was thick and silent for half a second.

then it clicked. 

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at jay—then slowly turned his head toward jake. the realisation hit him. “wait…” he muttered. “how the fuck do you know her?”

jake’s face went pale—he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “yeah… how do you know yn?”

jay’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, confusion turning into dawning horror. sunghoon sat up straighter, but not off you. all three boys were now staring directly at you.

“how do you know jay?”

“and how the hell do you know jake?”

“you and sunghoon—?”

now the focus shifted entirely on you.

you were still lying on the bed, dress rumpled, lips swollen, heart hammering in your chest. three pairs of eyes—shocked, jealous, and confused—were locked on you. 

“i—” 

you tried to sit up, tugging your dress down with shaky hands. “i—i didn’t know? ah, i swear… it just… happened? i mean—”

you were clearly flustered, words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i never thought—i didn’t know you guys knew each other—?”

before you could finish, jake reached behind him and closed the door with a soft click, locking the four of you inside. both of them walked closer to the bed, their expressions shifting from confusion to something more of—betrayal and disbelief.

jay ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short laugh. “wow… you’ve been fucking all of us?” his voice was low, eyes wide. “our own friend group?”

why didn’t they blame each other—? you thought, swallowing the lump in your throat. you guys were the asshole cheaters in the first place! so they could cheat on their girlfriends, but god forbids a girl have fun with multiple guys?

“have you been playing us the whole time? jake asked. “letting jay fuck you, me, now sunghoon pinning you down like that?”

just as you were about to open your mouth, sunghoon squished your cheeks together and slammed his lips against yours roughly—teeth clashing and grazing your lips. you whimpered into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing his shirt. 

when sunghoon finally pulled back, you grasped for air. his thumb dragged across your botton lip. “there’s no point hiding anymore, is there?”

the tension snapped. 

jay moved first, climbing onto the bed and grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him. “c’mere, baby.” jake was right behind him, kneeling on your other side. sunghoon stayed where he was, between your knees, watching as his two bestfriends started touching you.

in seconds, your dress was being yanked up and over your head. hands were everywhere—jake’s mouth on your neck, jay’s hands squeezing your tits, sunghoon’s fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your legs. 

you were panting, head spinning from the sudden overload.

“look at her,” jay murmured, voice thick as he pinched your nipple, eliciting a moan. “pretty little side chick… been taking all three of us like a whore.” jake groaned, kissing down your chest. “and we thought we were the only ones… fuck, that’s so hot.”

sunghoon gripped your jaw again, turning your face toward him. “open your mouth.”

the second you did, and he kissed you again—rough and deep—while jay and jake worked together pleasing your tits. jay’s hand wandered along your tummy—down to your bare, wet cunt. 

his fingers slid between your folds, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. “shit, so soaked.”

“fuckin’ dripping for us already,” sunghoon said, moving to give jake a space to settle between your spread legs. “turn over,” sunghoon ordered, commanding as he grabbed your hips. “on your hands and knees now, c’mon.”

your body obeyed before your brain could catch up—which shocked jake a little since with him, you were never this obedient. you were flipped onto all fours in the middle of the bed, ass up, back arched, completely exposed.

jake gripped your asscheeks, spreading them wide enough as he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly from your clit, all the way up to your dripping hole. “fuck, taste s’good,” he moaned, his cock beneath his pants twitched. he dove back in, licking and sucking messily while jay knelt in front of you. he tilted your chin up, hard cock already freed from his pants, thick and leaking. 

“open that pretty mouth, baby.”

you parted your lips and he instantly pushed the head of his cock past them, sliding deep into your warm mouth with a satisfied groan. “oh, fuuuuck… your mouth always feels s’good…”

sunghoon stayed at your side, one hand already palming and stroking his cock while the other reached underneath to rub circles on your clit as jake french–kissed your pussy. “look at you,” sunghoon murmured. “what a slut… taking all taken men at once. this what you wanted, isn’t it?”

jake hummed against your pussy and you felt the curve of his mouth forming into a smile—the vibration making your thighs quiver. jay thrusted into your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. “been screwing each of us behind the other’s backs…” jay groaned, pushing deeper until you gagged. 

“greedy little girl.”

your muffled moan around jay’s cock was the only answer they needed. 

jake was the first to pull back from between your legs, shiny with your juices. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swimming with pure need. “i’m going first,” he said, settling behind you. “been dying to fuck you again since the last time.”

sunghoon and jay didn’t argue. they simply shifted positions.

jake moved behind you, gripping your hips tightly and lining up his hard cock with your dripping entrance. without any warning or heads up, he pushed in with one deep thrust—bottoming out in a single stroke. 

“oh, fuuuck…” he groaned aloud, head falling back as your tight walls clenched around him. “still so ’ tight… missed this pussy so much.” jake started thrusting—deep strokes that rocked your body forward.

at the same time, sunghoon knelt in front of you. he grabbed your hair gently but firmly, guiding your mouth to his cock. “open up,” he ordered quietly. you obeyed, lips parting as he slid his thick length into your mouth. sunghoon let out a groan, eyes half–lidded as he watched you take him inch by inch.

jay moved to your side, kneeling close enough that his cock was right next to your face. your hand instinctively wrapped around his length, stroking his wet cock while you sucked his best friend’s. 

the room filled with wet, porno sounds—jake’s hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you from behind, the slick sounds of your mouth working sunghoon’s dick, and your hand pumping jay’s length. every now and then, jake would slap you ass—gripping, squeezing, and spreading and watched as your asshole twitched. 

“aw, pretty baby,” jay grunted, wrapping his bigger hand around yours as he guided you through it out. “taking all three of us so well, mm? perfect girl.”

next to him, sunghoon scoffed. jake panted and runted like a dog—gripping your hips harder as he pounded into you. “oh—hah—you feel so good, oh fuck, i missed this so much—missed you so much.”

sunghoon glanced at jake before his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your head as he picked up his pace fucking your mouth. “that’s it… suck me just like that—how you’d do with all the other guys, babe.”

jay groaned, hips twitching into your fist. “yeah—? do you have other guys you’re fucking aside us, yn?”

you instantly shook your head as much as you could with sunghoon’s cock buried in your mouth, a desperate, muffled, “mm—mm” vibrating around him. 

“right,” sunghoon clicked his tongue. the memory of you getting hit on by heeseung playing in the back of his head. if you were able to hide jake and jay from him for months—who knew who else?

every thrust from jake pushed you forward onto sunghoon’s cock, forcing you to take him even deeper down your throat. you were gagging around him, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth but you kept sucking.

jake’s rhythm started to falter. his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully as he fucked you harder from behind. “hah—i’m close, oh god,” he groaned. “wanna fill you up—i can fill you up, right? hngh—you’ll let me?”

he slammed into you a few more times, deep and desperate, burying himself to the hilt. now—jay and sunghoon never knew jake was someone who’s into this but who were they to judge? the contrast between how you were with jake, sunghoon, and jay made them want to laugh.

with jay, you’re treated as the princess of the princess—sweet, gentle, kind words—like you’re the girlfriend. with jake, you got to order and command—and he’s always so fucking into being called a good boy. with sunghoon? with sunghoon—you’re the brat that needed some punishment. 

you nodded your head and that was all jake needed. 

“hah—cumming—” he rasped. you felt the first hot spurts of his cum flood deep inside you. the puppy boy kept grinding into you, milking every drop as he creampied you, his cock twitching. a low whine escaped your throat, muffled.

when jake finally pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaked from your cunt.

“next,” jake panted, voice hoarse as he moved aside.

they filled you onto your back. 

the player immediately took his place between your legs, but instead of fucking you missionary, he turned you slightly onto your side. he lifted your top leg, hooking it over his hip, and instantly slid his throbbing cock into your cum–filled cunt in one thrust. 

“ah—! jay!” you moaned aloud, followed by jay’s groan. the warmth from jake’s cum wasn’t helping the situation at all. it felt so fucking good. “she’s so slippery with your cum, jake… so filthy.”

he started fucking you from the side—deep, rolling thrusts that let him hit every sensitive spot. you’re beyond embarrassed at this point. your creamy pussy that gushes cum with each thrust, how exposed and bare and wet you were for the other two boys to see. 

you wondered if this was the consequences of your actions. 

jake moved up beside your head, still breathing hard. he groped your tits greeding—how he loved them—squeezing and kneading, pinching your sweaty nipples as he leaned down to kiss and bite along your neck.

‘hngh—yn, i love these so much,” he muffled, sucking and tugging at your boobs. “so soft, you’re so squishy.” 

sunghoon shifted to your other side, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. his tongue slid against yours while jay continued fucking you from the side, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into your creampied pussy filling the room.

sunghoon kissed you like he couldn’t bear not doing anything while the other two boys had their fun. he was almost annoyed and pissed that they just had to interrupt him having you all to himself earlier. 

“is this what you like?” jake murmured against your neck, his hands never stopping roaming. he groped your breasts, rolled your nipples between his fingers, then slid one hand down to rub your clit in lazy circles while jay thrusted into you. “taking jay’s dick right after i filled you up… you’re so hot, yn.”

“hngh—jay, oh fuck, you’re so big—” you moaned into sunghoon’s mouth in which he instantly shut you up. jay groaned, picking up the pace, hips snapping harder. “fuck. i can feel your cum every time i push in, jake. poor sweetheart, do you like this, baby?”

sunghoon pulled back from the kiss just enough to let you breathe, lips brushing yours. “answer him while he’s fucking you.”

your body trembled between the three guys as you answered: “yes, yes, yesyesyes—! i—i love all three of you, oh my fuck!” you cried out, chasing sunghoon’s lips as you began sucking his bottom lip. you moaned shamelessly into his mouth while jay’s cock dragged against your walls.  

“we love you too.”

behind you, jay smirked—and jake couldn’t help from smiling. 

“show us how much you love it, please?” jake murmured against your nipple, his fingers never slowing down—pressing and rubbing your clit. “squirt for us—make a mess all over jay’s dick.”

he began rubbing harder—and the pressure coiled fast. too fast.

before you knew it, your thighs started shaking uncontrollably. your back arched sharply as jake’s fingers and jay’s cock worked you together. “oh, i’m gonna—!”

you didn’t even get to finish. 

with a loud, broken cry, you squired around jay’s cock. clear fluid gushed out of you, soaking jay’s hips, the sheets, and jake’s hand. your whole body convulsed, pussy clenching and pulsing violently. 

“fuck—!” jay groaned, eyes rolling back as your walls squeezed him like a vice. the feeling of you squiring all over him while still full of jake’s cum pushed him over the edge. without any warning, he buried himself deep and came—thick ropes of cum shooting right inside. 

he kept grinding into you through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper as your squirt continued to leak around his cock. 

sunghoon watched the while thing, still kissing you through your high, swallowing every broken moan and whimper. 

when jay finally stilled, panting against your shoulder, the room was filled with heavy breathing and the obscene sound of cum and squirt dripping onto the sheets. jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your nipple while his fingers slowed on your oversensitive clit.

“good girl…” jay murmured, kissing your temple. “such a perfect girl.”

jay pulled out slowly, another mix of squirt and both their cum leaking out of your used cunt like whipped cream, jay smirked, giving your ass a squeeze. 

“my turn.”

sunghoon didn’t waste a single second.

he moved between your legs, pushing them wide open as he settled on top of you in full missionary, his frame caged you in, eyes locked onto yours that always made your tummy flip. without warning, he slid two fingers deep into your cum–filled pussy, curcling them instantly.

“hah—hoonie—!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as he started fingering you—fast and deep, wet sounds loud and filthy as he stirred jake and jay’s cum inside you. “feel that, babe? he muttered. “so full already—yet so slutty for more.”

he pumped his fingers harder, scissoring them, pushing the mixed loads deeper while his thumb rub your swollen clit. your legs trembled around him, overstimulation making tears prick.

only when you were whimpering and gasping did sunghoon finally pull his fingers out. he brought them up to your mouth.

“clean ‘em.”

you obediently opened your lips, sucking his fingers clean of the messy mix of cum while he watched. then, he lined up his thick, needy cock—and pushed into you in one deep thrust, slow enough to let you feel every inch and veins of him. 

a broken moan tore from your throat.

sunghoon bottomed out, holding your hips. “shit… so warm and wet,” he breathed, and began to move. his thrusts were hard and deliberate, hips snapping forward with every stroke, driving jake and jay’s cum even deeper.

he kept you in missionary the whole time—face to face, eyes locked, his body pressed flush against yours. one hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. the other slid up to wrap gently around your throat, holding you there.

“open your mouth.” 

you obeyed instantly, lips paring, tongue slightly out naturally.

sunghoon leaned in first. he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drop slowly onto your tongue, watching with a smirk as it landed right on your tongue. jake moved in simultaneously, hovering above you as he spat directly into your open mouth, a thick string of saliva mixing with sunghoon’s. jay too—tilted your head upward gently before spitting into your mouth as well. 

all three of their spit mixed together on your tongue—so fucking humiliating in the best way. 

“swallow, baby, c’mon,” jay murmured, kissing your cheek. sunghoon tightened his grip on your throat just a little, you swallowed the thick saliva, throat bobbing under his palm. the taste of all three of them made your pussy clench hard around sunghoon’s cock.

“fuck, she just squeezed me,” sunghoon groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. “such a nasty little cumslut.”

jake chuckled, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth as he palmed your tits. jay’s hand slid down to rub your clit as sunghoon pounded into you deeply—”nasty little girl, look at you,” jay murmured, caressing your hair.

“you love being used like this? who taught you to be so slutty, baby, hm?”

sunghoon’s eyes never left yours—your half–lidded, crossed, rolled to the back glossy eyes. he fucked you relentlessly, wet squelching sounds of his cock stirring the mixed cum inside you filling the room. his hand stayed around your throat as he fucked your cunt like a fleshlight, claming while jake had his fun with your tits, and jay continued teasing your clit from the side.

you were a complete mess—trembling, moaning, drooling… barely got to focus on the moving ceiling above. your tits bounced and jiggled with every thrust—a sight jake could cum alone. 

sunghoon’s thrusts grew sharper, deeper, and more desperate. his grip on you throat tightened just a fraction as he groaned against your lips. “fuck… ‘m cummin’—”

he straightened up, canines digging into his bottom lip as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. the hardest he’s ever ejaculated. thick, hot ropes of cum flooded and washed over deep inside you, mixing with the cum from jake and jay before. 

as usual, he kept grinding into you, pushing every drop as deep as possible while his cock twitched inside your overused, overfilled pussy.

at the same time, the two boys kneeled on either side of your head—jerking themselves off furiously above you, breathing heavily. “shit, shit, shit,” jay rasped, thick spurts of cum landing across your tits and collarbones. 

“oh, gosh, yn, please,” jake whimpered, following just right after as he painted your face and chest with more warm cum. their softened cocks rested on your chest, with jay’s twitching again as it rubbed your nipple.

you lay there, panting, body covered in their cum—tits glistening like you milked out semen, pussy leaking a creamy mix of all three of them, throat marked from sunghoon’s hands and jake’s bites, lips swollen from jay’s kisses. 

the room was silent except for heavy breathing and panting.

sunghoon pulled out—agonisingly slow—watching his thick cum drip and burst out from your stretched hole. fuck—what a sight, he thought. he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time. your pussy twitched and spasmed around nothing, thighs trembling with orgasm as you shivered. 

jay leaned to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. jake’s softened cock caressed your other cheek as the owner pumped the mixed cum back inside your puffy pussy with his fingers. sunghoon pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips. 

“you’re our secret girl now.”

you lay between them—as the three sworn, soulmates bestfriends who used to swear they had no secrets finally agreed on one secret: they would share their perfect little side chick—away from their girlfriends, and away from all the other guys out there.

[lovzy7]

DIRTY lTTLE NEIGHBOR • S. JAEYUN

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( 심재윤 ) In which - You finally snap at Jake for his late-night motorbike habits, but the tension between you explodes into something messy, impulsive, and impossible to forget.

~ 2.8K

Warnings / Tags: smut, explicit sexual content, rough sex, degrading kink, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, orgasm denial, overstimulation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, enemies to lovers, hate sex(enemies), aftercare

now playing ‧₊˚♪ : meddle about by chase atlantic.

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The growl of that goddamn motorbike ripped through the night like a chainsaw, vibrating the walls of my apartment and yanking me out of a restless half-sleep.

It was after 2 a.m., and I'd already dragged myself through a hellish day at work; endless meetings, a boss who nitpicked every damn email, and a commute that left me fuming.

All I wanted was to sleep, but no, here came Jake Sim again, my cocky asshole of a neighbor, revving his precious bike like he owned the whole building. This wasn't the first time, and I was fucking done.

I threw off the covers, walking to the door, annoyed as fuck, just then the engine cut off in the parking lot below. Footsteps echoed up the stairs. Heavy, unhurried, like he didn't give a shit about the hour.

I flung the door wide open as he rounded the corner into the hallway, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, helmet tucked under his arm. Tousled dark hair, sharp jawline shadowed with stubble, and those piercing eyes that always seemed to get me more than I would like to admit.

"You," I spat, stepping out into the dimly lit gallery, arms crossed over my chest like that could hide how exposed I felt in my barely-there outfit.

His lips curved into that infuriating smirk, eyes flicking down my body before meeting mine again. "Good evening, darling," he drawled, voice low and teasing, laced with that Australian accent that somehow made everything sound dirtier.

That did it. The exhaustion, the frustration from work, the weeks of pent-up annoyance it all exploded. "Do you think this is normal? You're waking everyone up, you dick!" I shouted, my voice bouncing off the walls, louder than I intended but who cared? He deserved it.

Jake leaned against the wall opposite my door, crossing his arms, his gaze lingering on the way my tank top strained against my breasts. "As much as I love listening to you rant while wearing that beautiful, sexy PJ set, I've got a bed waiting for me."

Heat flooded my face as I realized what he meant. My nipples were hard points under the thin fabric, the shorts so short they barely covered my ass. No bra, no nothing. I was standing here half-naked, yelling at him like an idiot. "Ah, you perv," I hissed, trying to pull my top up, but it only made things worse, drawing his eyes right back.

He chuckled, pushing off the wall and taking a step closer. "For a person complaining about my motorbike noise, you're kinda shouting yourself."

"I'm not shouting," I shot back, my voice rising even as I denied it. The hypocrisy burned, but I was too pissed to care.

"Yes, you are," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes, stepping into my space now. The hallway felt narrower with him so close, his cologne mixing with the faint scent of exhaust clinging to his clothes.

"No, I'm not! You're the one blasting that thing every night like a fucking maniac!"

"Shouting," he repeated, his smirk widening.

"Am not!"

"Are too."

Jake was so close now, towering over me, his height making me crane my neck to glare up at him.

In a blur, Jake's hand shot out, cupping my face roughly, his thumb pressing into my cheek as he yanked me forward and crushed his mouth to mine. I rocked back on my heels, shock freezing me for a split second before instinct kicked in. I shoved at his chest, trying to pull away—"What the fuck, Jake?!"—but he wasn't having it.

His other hand wrapped around the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss with a firm, unyielding grip. The sudden dominance sent a jolt straight to my core, and I let out an involuntary moan against his lips, the sound muffled but betraying me completely. That was his opening; his tongue slipped past my defenses, hot and insistent, tasting of mint and the night air.

I melted into it despite myself, my hands fisting in his jacket as need overtook the anger. We were still in the goddamn hallway, doors lining the gallery, but I couldn't stop the moans spilling from my throat, soft and needy as his tongue tangled with mine.

He kissed like we where fucking; rough, demanding, leaving no room for anything but surrender.

Jake pulled back just enough to murmur against my lips, his breath ragged. "You still not quiet, darling." His voice was a growl, eyes dark with lust. Before I could snap back, he was kissing me again, harder this time, his body pressing mine back step by step. My apartment door hung open behind me, and he maneuvered us through it without breaking contact, kicking it shut with his boot once we were inside.

The familiar scent of my place; vanilla from the candles I'd lit earlier, mixed with the takeout I'd abandoned. Did nothing to ground me. Jake's hands were everywhere, one still on my neck, the other sliding down to grip my ass through the thin shorts, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp into his mouth. I was getting needier by the second, my body arching into him, the skimpy PJs doing nothing to hide how wet I already was.

He backed me up against the wall just inside the door, the cool plaster a shock against my heated skin. His mouth left mine to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw, nipping at my earlobe. "Fuck, look at you," he whispered, voice rough. "All riled up from a bad day, screaming at me in this slutty little outfit. No bra, nipples begging for attention. You want this, don't you? Want me to shut that pretty mouth with my cock?"

His dirty words hit like gasoline on a fire, my pussy clenching at the degradation. "Shut up," I breathed, but it came out as a whine, my hands tugging at his jacket to get it off.

Jake laughed lowly, shrugging it away and tossing it aside. He was all lean muscle under his black tee, the kind honed from riding that bike and whatever late-night adventures he chased. His hands found the hem of my tank top, yanking it up and over my head in one swift motion, exposing my breasts to the air. My nipples hardened further under his gaze, and he didn't hesitate; leaning down to capture one in his mouth, sucking hard while his tongue flicked the peak.

I moaned louder, head thumping back against the wall. "Jake—fuck—"

"That's right, moan for me," he said, popping off to lavish the other nipple with the same attention, his teeth grazing just enough to sting. One hand kneaded my bare breast, his palm rough against my soft skin, while the other dipped between my legs, fingers pressing over the fabric of my shorts. He rubbed my clit through the thin barrier, slow circles that had me bucking my hips. "Soaking already. Bad day got you this worked up? Or is it just my bike that revs your engine?"

"Asshole," I gasped, but my body betrayed me, grinding against his hand. He was so much bigger, able to pin me effortlessly, manhandle me like I weighed nothing.

He hooked his fingers in my shorts and panties, dragging them down my legs in a rush. I stepped out of them, kicking them aside, now completely naked while he was still half-dressed. It was unfair, vulnerable, but the way his eyes devoured me made my skin tingle. "Bedroom. Now. I want that pussy on my face first."

My bed was unmade from earlier, sheets rumpled, but Jake didn't care. He pushed me onto it, climbing over me like a predator.

"Spread those legs," he commanded, settling between them. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me wide, exposing my slick folds to his hungry gaze. I felt small under him, his shoulders blocking out the light, making me arch in anticipation. "Fuck. Gonna drown in this pretty little cunt."

He dove in without warning, his mouth latching onto my clit, sucking with a force that made my back bow off the mattress. His tongue was relentless, flat and broad as he licked from entrance to nub, then circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. I cried out, fingers flying to his hair, pulling him closer.

"Jake—oh god—yes," I moaned, hips rolling against his face. He groaned into me, the vibration shooting straight to my core. One hand pinned my hip down, his fingers digging into my flesh, while the other teased my entrance, one thick digit sliding in easily, then two, stretching me with a burn.

He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside me that made my vision blur. His mouth never stopped sucking, licking, nipping at my clit; building the pressure fast. I was already close, the day's tension unraveling under his relentless assault. God, I was right there, the edge so sharp it hurt, my body trembling as waves of heat crashed through me. “God- right there- I’m- I’m-”

"No," Jake growled suddenly, his voice rough against my skin. He yanked his fingers free, the wet slide leaving me empty and aching, and pulled his mouth away just as the orgasm hovered on the brink. His eyes locked on mine, dark and unyielding, as he watched me shatter without release.

I whined, high and desperate, my hips bucking into empty air, clit pulsing with denied need. "Jake—please—" The frustration burned, hot tears pricking my eyes as my thighs clenched around nothing.

He smirked, wiping his slick chin with his thumb before sucking it clean, savoring my taste like a taunt. "Not yet, baby. You think I'll let you come that easy? Nah." His hands clamped onto my hips, strong and possessive, flipping me over with a swift tug until I straddled his chest.

He shifted lower, guiding me up until my knees bracketed his head, my dripping folds hovering just above his parted lips. The heat of his breath teased my swollen clit, making me shiver. "Ride me," he commanded, voice thick with hunger. "Fuck my mouth like you own it, but don't you dare tip over. Hold it back until I say you're good."

A frustrated sob escaped me, but the ache between my legs won out. I lowered myself slowly, gasping as his nose nudged my clit, his tongue flicking out to trace my entrance. I rocked forward, grinding down, the slick friction igniting fresh sparks. His hands gripped my ass, spreading me wider, pulling me onto his face with firm control. I moved faster, chasing what he'd stolen, my fingers tangling in his hair for leverage.

Jake hummed beneath me, the vibration shooting straight to my core, his lips sealing around my clit to suck hard before releasing with a pop. He licked broad stripes up my slit, then delved inside, fucking me with his tongue while I rode him desperately. Every whine I let out only seemed to spur him on, his grip tightening to dictate the pace; slow drags that built the tension agonizingly, then sudden pulls to grind me harder.

"That's it," he murmured when I faltered, voice muffled against my skin. "Keep whining for me. Show me how bad you want to come on my face." My thighs quaked, the pressure coiling tighter, but I bit my lip, obeying his rule even as the denial made me wild.

My hips rolled in a frantic rhythm, slick and desperate against Jake's mouth, every grind sending jolts of fire through my core. His tongue plunged deep, lapping at my walls before swirling around my clit, sucking with just enough pressure to make stars burst behind my eyelids. I clutched his hair tighter, pulling him closer even as my body screamed for release, the coil in my belly wound so tight it bordered on pain.

'Jake,' I gasped, voice breaking on a whine, my thighs trembling around his head. The denial from before still lingered, making every sensation sharper, more insistent. I was soaked, dripping onto his chin, the wet sounds of my pussy sliding over his lips filling the room like a filthy symphony.

He groaned into me, the vibration humming through my clit, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks to spread me open wider. He controlled the pace ruthlessly, guiding me down hard when I slowed, then easing me up to tease with feather-light licks that left me shuddering. 'Fuck, you taste so good,' he murmured, words muffled as his lips brushed my folds. 'Keep riding, darling. I can feel you clenching. Don't stop now.'

My vision swam, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as the pleasure crested, threatening to crash. 'Please, I'm—I'm gonna—' The words dissolved into a keening whine, my body arching as I ground down harder, chasing the oblivion he'd held just out of reach.

Jake's grip tightened, holding me flush against his face, his nose pressing into my clit while his tongue fucked into me relentlessly. 'Yeah, that's it,' he growled, the command vibrating against my skin. 'Come for me now—let it all out.'

The permission shattered me. The orgasm ripped through like a storm, my pussy pulsing wildly around his tongue as waves of ecstasy slammed into me. I cried out, loud and unrestrained, hips jerking erratically as cum flooded his mouth. He didn't pull away; sucking greedily, lapping up every drop while I rode out the high, body convulsing in his unyielding hold.

Jake finally eased me off, his lips glistening, eyes dark with satisfaction as he licked them clean. “Good girl. Now, turn around. I want to see that ass while I fuck you." he rasped.

"Gonna fill this tight little pussy," he said, voice rough with need. The dirty talk had me clenching, desperate for the stretch.

He thrust in with one brutal snap of his hips, burying half his length in a single go. I cried out, the burn intense; his cock was massive, splitting me open, every ridge and vein dragging against my walls. He paused, letting me adjust, but only for a second before pushing deeper, bottoming out until his hips flush against my ass.

"Fuck, so tight," he groaned, hands spanning my waist easily.

He started moving, pulling out slow before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust jolted me forward, his hips snapping with bruising force, the slap of skin echoing. I moaned with every plunge, the fullness overwhelming, his size hitting spots that made my toes curl.

"You love it, don't you?" he panted, one hand sliding up my back to press between my shoulder blades, arching me deeper. "Hate me all you want, but your pussy's weeping for this dick. Dirty little neighbor, getting railed raw in your own bed."

"Harder," I gasped, meeting his thrusts, the degradation fueling the fire. Overstimulation made me sensitive. Every drag of his cock sent sparks through me, building toward another climax too soon.

He obliged, pounding relentlessly, his free hand coming down to rub my clit in rough circles. "Gonna make you come again. Milk my cock till I fill you up."

The pressure coiled tight, and I shattered around him, walls fluttering, squeezing him like a fist. He groaned, thrusts faltering but not stopping, fucking me through it until I was sobbing, body limp.

The words tipped me over once more, orgasm ripping through me as he buried deep, his cock swelling. With a roar, he came, hot spurts flooding my walls, the creampie sensation warm and filthy. He kept thrusting shallowly, pushing it deeper, milking every drop until we were both spent, collapsing in a tangle of limbs.

For minutes, we lay there panting, his weight a comforting press. Then, softly, he pulled out, a gush of cum following. "Stay still," he murmured, voice gentle now. He disappeared to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth.

Kneeling between my legs again, he cleaned me tenderly, wiping away the mess with careful strokes, soothing the ache. His touches were soft, thumbs rubbing circles on my thighs. "You okay? Wasn't too rough?"

I nodded, pulling him down for a lazy kiss. "I'm good. That was... wow."

We stayed on our backs, staring at the ceiling, neither of us moving, both still catching our breath.

Jake broke the silence. “So… you gonna pretend that didn’t just happen?”

I let out a quiet scoff. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

He huffed a laugh. “Would make dealing with you easier.”

I turned my head slightly. “Oh please. You’re the problem, not me.”

“Yeah?” he said. “Didn’t sound like I was the problem five minutes ago.”

I rolled my eyes. “God, shut up, Sim.”

“Mm,” he murmured, way too amused.

I stared back at the ceiling, exhaling slowly. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Course not.”

[chuulvie]

UGH I LOVE YOU SO BAD.

[jaehyp]

wasn’t even going to make any type of post over this cs it’s literally so stupid but since u wanna act so childish oh so be it 😭 not only did u plagiarize my work and others but when i take the time out of my day to be mature and talk to u abt it u can’t handle it 😭 like don’t copy people's shit if u can’t deal with the consequences of ur actions tf talking abt some “i don’t know who u r” girl pleaseeee gmfu 😭😭🙏🙏

like it’s really not that deep but it’s the fact i was being patient and respectful when i could’ve js been a bitch abt it from the start all i was going to ask was for u to take it down. i had assumed you learned considering u took it down but the fact u cant even take accountability is insaneeee with all that being said STEALING, PLAGIARIZING, and TAKING HEAVY INSPO WITHOUT AUTHORS AWARENESS IS NOT OK ‼️ tysm to everyone who reached out and lmk <33 below is everything cs yes i keep receipts

MY POST COMPARED THEIRS AS U CAN SEE MINE WAS POSTED FIRST

SIDE BY SIDE COMPARISON

I WAS GOING TO BE CIVIL AND REACH OUT THRU DMS BUT THAT WASNT AN OPTION AS U CAN SEE SO I COMMENTED ON ONE OF THEIR POST

BUT THEY WANTED TO NOT EVEN OWN UP TO IT (mind u they cleared up the air with another author so im confused why that wasn't an option for me??)

@nrikkii text me when ur ready to own up for what u did babes 🥱 and if u make any post abt me make sure to @ me cs ikyk my blog by heart since ur so comfortable copying

[chuulvie]

girl js own it, say u were inspired and drop it

[jaehyp]

fear this is a tuff thing to do for some 😀

[chuulvie]

well @jaehyp maybe ur js so sexy they couldnt help it

[jaehyp]

i think i’ve made it in life 🥹✌️

[chuulvie]

you've made it in life maaa

[jaehyp]

wasn’t even going to make any type of post over this cs it’s literally so stupid but since u wanna act so childish oh so be it 😭 not only did u plagiarize my work and others but when i take the time out of my day to be mature and talk to u abt it u can’t handle it 😭 like don’t copy people's shit if u can’t deal with the consequences of ur actions tf talking abt some “i don’t know who u r” girl pleaseeee gmfu 😭😭🙏🙏

like it’s really not that deep but it’s the fact i was being patient and respectful when i could’ve js been a bitch abt it from the start all i was going to ask was for u to take it down. i had assumed you learned considering u took it down but the fact u cant even take accountability is insaneeee with all that being said STEALING, PLAGIARIZING, and TAKING HEAVY INSPO WITHOUT AUTHORS AWARENESS IS NOT OK ‼️ tysm to everyone who reached out and lmk <33 below is everything cs yes i keep receipts

MY POST COMPARED THEIRS AS U CAN SEE MINE WAS POSTED FIRST

SIDE BY SIDE COMPARISON

I WAS GOING TO BE CIVIL AND REACH OUT THRU DMS BUT THAT WASNT AN OPTION AS U CAN SEE SO I COMMENTED ON ONE OF THEIR POST

BUT THEY WANTED TO NOT EVEN OWN UP TO IT (mind u they cleared up the air with another author so im confused why that wasn't an option for me??)

@nrikkii text me when ur ready to own up for what u did babes 🥱 and if u make any post abt me make sure to @ me cs ikyk my blog by heart since ur so comfortable copying

[chuulvie]

girl js own it, say u were inspired and drop it

[jaehyp]

fear this is a tuff thing to do for some 😀

[chuulvie]

well @jaehyp maybe ur js so sexy they couldnt help it