summery: you don't believe in love. you've seen what it turns into-resentment, tension, people staying because they have to. it's why you keep things simple. temporary. one night with no strings attached, no expectations. nothing. and always under your control.
then there's jake sim. he's not your type, he's not apart of your world. he's the kind of person who believes in love at first sight, something lasting, something real. you were never meant to see him after your night together, let alone think about him.
and when he starts showing up in places he shouldn't, looking at you like you're something more than just a one night stand, walking away suddenly isn't as easy as it should be.
because jake sim is the kind of person who stays.
and you've always been the one to leave first.
pairing: nerd!jake sim x love skeptic!fem!reader, fuck boy!heeseung x love skeptic!fem!reader
content/warnings: emotionally unavailable reader, jake has little experience, golden retriever x black cat, reader has major commitment issues, smoking, alcohol use, jake is a nervous nerdy wreck, heeseung is a fuck boy, getting interrupted. nsfw: sub!jake (jakemissive is life) switch!reader, sex (unprotected), oral sex (both receiving), fingering, handjobs, jake's a whimper, breast play, praise, dirty talk, dry humping, teasing, forced submission, multiple positions, multiple rounds, hickeys, slight biting.. probs more lemme know if i forget any!!
notes: soo this is going to be published to wattpad too, my username is @/-saebyeok. chapters will be posted at the same time. also this is written in the 2nd pov but reader does have a name cause i don't like using y/n Imao. any questions, pm me:)
taglist: @bitemhoon @yunkivamp @k1ttywoni @eirlyscloud @zielyous @missoxy @ni-kiluvss @softblaqn @markerloi @starry-eyed-bimbo @dxzejake (bold couldn’t be tagged—taglist is open!)
Your eyes fix on a crack in the ceiling above you. You hadn’t noticed it until now. It was faint, barely even there. It looked like somebody had drawn it on in pencil.
You wondered when it got there with a hum. You’d laid beneath this ceiling a couple times now, and only now had you noticed it—
Instantly, you blinked. You were pulled back to reality as soon as he breathed your name across the lobe of your ear like a prayer.
The rest of the room came into focus when he brought you back to reality—the spotless floor, the bare walls, the desk which was cluttered with a monitor and PC, a light up keyboard, and empty ramyeon cups.
Then came Lee Heeseung and his toned body that you don't think you’d ever be able to get over, despite telling him ‘it’s not all that’.
Out of instinct, your hands tighten around his neck and you pull him closer. His lips trail down your neck and onto your collarbones, nipping and sucking just the way you like it.
“Hee,” you quietly groan the moment he traces his teeth across that spot between your neck and shoulder. You felt your stomach churn with excitement.
Heeseung doesn’t say anything. But he didn’t have to. Feeling his smirk against your skin was enough to make you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
And when he starts to move across your body, skillfully and confidently, taking each nipple into his warm mouth and drawing circles with his tongue.
Your breath catches in your throat, and the hand you have in his hair tightens.
His lips trail down to your stomach, and then he reaches the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and throwing them across his room with an ease that makes you want to scoff.
You let your head fall back against his pillows, and you enjoy the way the cushion welcomes the weight. You allow your gaze to return to the crack in the ceiling, following it all the way to where it started by his dorm door.
It isn’t long until you feel his tongue gently flick across your clit, slow and teasing despite having done this multiple times before, and you quickly tug your bottom lip between your teeth, no longer caring about whatever was on the ceiling as you melt beneath his tongue.
But then everything stops.
Just as you swallow a moan and feel the muscles in your thighs tense, his tongue vanishes and the sweet sensation follows.
Sucking in a breath, you lift your head a little to look down at the boy between your legs. A mischievous smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth and his dark eyes meet with yours in an instant.
Of course. How could you be so silly to think Heeseung would give you what you want without teasing you first?
It happens nearly every time you guys are together. You should be used to it by now.
“Fuck you.” Your voice is low and firm, and your eyes are hooded as you rest on your elbows.
“Fuck me?” He raises his eyebrows and his tone was full of nothing but cockiness and mockery.
The shared room falls quiet. The air becomes thick with something you find hard to breathe in, and you scowl down at him, finding little-to-no amusement in his teasing.
“You wanna fuck me?” His head tilts to the side a bit. His tongue pokes out of his mouth to glide across his bottom lip, and you want to do nothing more than slap him. “Is that what you want?”
Finally, you allow yourself to roll your eyes and then you reach your arms out to shove him away from you. Satisfaction rushes through your body when he falls onto his back, and a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth.
This is what you want. You want him beneath you, under your control. You hate how he teases you and makes you feel like he has you on strings.
A groan slips from Heeseung’s mouth when you move to sit on his lap. The sound was a mix of shock and intrigue, and he runs a hand through his hair as he shifts beneath you, giving you better access to his body.
“Yes,” you slowly nodded. Your voice is like a syrup—warm, sticky and gooey, and it leaves Heeseung wanting more. “But my way. Not yours.”
Heeseung musters a chuckle and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head in disapproval.
“You know the rules.” He whispers against your skin, his voice coming out like a song. He’s still teasing. He still thinks he has control. He inches closer to grasp your waist, his hold firm and possessive.
Your body tenses at his words, and for a moment you halt your actions. You don’t think he notices because he continues to suck on your neck like some vampire.
‘You know the rules’ yes, you do. The shitty rules you hate so much—the rules he put in place when you first got together a couple months ago, where he has control. He leads.
You know, it’s probably due to toxic masculinity, where he believes the man needs to be in control in the bedroom. You know, he probably should’ve been a fuck-and-done.
But in all honesty, the dick was good. Too good. He had been the only person to leave you trembling after an orgasm. That’s why you fuck around with him more than once. Heeseung was the only exception.
You roll your eyes when you feel him try to grind your naked crotch against his clothed one, desperate for some sort of friction between you both.
Your hand tugs at his dark roots and a satisfied smile pulls at the corner of your mouth when you hear him grunt.
“Still wanna go by your rules?” You mock into his ear, your breath fanning his lobe and sending shivers down his spine. “The sounds you’re making tell me different…”
Before you can process what is happening, Heeseung changes position. He flips you over so your back collides with his mattress again, and your hair sprawls out on his pillow as you look up at him, waiting for him to do something.
“Don’t fuck around, Ara.” He shakes his head disapprovingly, and you feel the tips of his fingers graze the inside of your thigh. His touch is barely there. He applies little pressure, but it’s enough to cover your skin in little goosebumps.
“Or what?” You challenge, raising your eyebrows as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. If he wasn’t going to allow you control, then you certainly weren’t going to submit to him without a fight.
Your breath hitches in your throat when his middle finger runs up your slit, collecting your slick and rubbing it onto your clit in slow circles, soaking the bud even more.
“Huh?” Heeseung hums with a smirk now pressed to his lips, his face inches from yours and his breath fanning your face. All you can do is focus on biting back the moans that were threatening to leave your mouth. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“Talk to me.” He orders, his voice gentle and encouraging, but with the way he starts to increase the speed of his finger, you knew he doesn’t mean the softness.
“Shit,” you quietly cry, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel the tension build in your core. Your stomach is doing somersaults and your heart is pounding. “Fuck, just—just fuck me, Hee.”
You hear the boy snort and then his finger disappears. You let out a breath of relief and reluctantly open your eyes to see what he is doing.
The moment your eyes land on him, your stomach flips again and for a second you’re sure you were some sort of acrobat in your previous life.
You swallow thickly at the sight of him with his finger between his lips, sucking you off of it as his other hand starts to unbuckle the belt around his small waist.
It comes off in one swift movement, and just like your underwear, it gets thrown across the room and lands on the bed parallel to Heeseung’s.
You watch as he slips out of his boxers and his dick springs free, like it had been caged up, desperate to be realised for a while. It slaps him gently on his abdomen, and he holds back a moan when your hand comes out to touch him.
Your finger traces his leaking tip, slowly and teasingly, spreading the pre-cum over the head like a painting, before you wrap all five fingers around his width and tug at his dick.
He groans, shutting his eyes instantly and throws his head back. Your eyes land on his Adams-apple, and you watch as it bobs when he swallows. His skin is clammy and glistens against the light that peeks through the gap in his curtains.
“Fuck, don’t,” he shakes his head and nudges your hand away from his throbbing cock. “Don’t—let’s skip that shit, yeah? Let me fuck you.” His voice is low and rough around the edges, and it makes you clench around nothing.
You nod your head, and you lay back against his bed, ready for him to fuck you.
In a way, you were quite glad he wanted to skip over the foreplay. Not only was sucking dick your least favourite part of the sex, but you were desperate. You need him in you as soon as possible.
When Heeseung hovers above you, and hoists your leg up his arm like you weigh nothing, you feel excitement bloom in your chest, and you giggle quietly.
The tip of his dick nudges between your folds, invading your warmth and replacing it with his own weight.
You suck in a breath and your arms wrap around his neck as you feel him press into your entrance. The stretch makes you kiss your teeth, and your hold on him tightens as he slowly inches into you.
And just when Heeseung lets out a grunt, and he is about to bottom out, the familiar sound of the dorm room's keypad beeping echoes throughout the stuffy room.
Instantly, your eyes fling open, and you shove the boy off of you. You ignore his groan in pain, and you ignore how empty you suddenly feel as you try to gather together your clothes.
The distant noise of his roommate's laughter muffles through the door, and you hurriedly pull up your underwear and throw on your plain t-shirt, not caring whether it was on the right way or not.
Heeseung hands you your dark wash jeans and you tug them up your legs, falling back onto his bed slightly as you balance on one foot.
The reminder of what just happened between you both hits you when the fabric of the jeans and your underwear press against your heat, soaking your panties in an instance and making you cringe.
Luckily, by the time the dorm door lets out a long beep and is pushed open, you and Heeseung are clothed. He’s sitting at his cluttered desk, and you're perched on the edge of his bed, one leg thrown over the other with a blush creeping up your neck.
Your eyes fall on his roommate. He’s tall, and well proportioned. His skin is so pale, that you genuinely wonder if he’s ever seen the sun, and there are a few moles decorating his skin.
His hair, which sits on his head, neatly parting ways on his forehead, is pitch black, and when he awkwardly smiles at you, you notice his fang-like tooth.
Maybe he is the vampire, rather than Heeseung who’d been sucking on your neck just seconds ago.
“Sunghoon.” Heeseung nods his head to greet his roommate and friend.
“Heeseung.” The boy mirrors his actions, stumbling further into the room.
You know he’s not stupid. He can see your flushed faces, see the sweat that still lingers to your skin, smell the sexual frustration in the air. He doesn’t say anything though. Not until he makes it to his bed.
“Your belt.” He announces as he picks up the leather. Once again, his dark eyes glance between you and Heeseung, before he returns the accessory to him.
You kiss your teeth and straighten your back. You’re fed up with the tension, you’re not here to deal with that. So, seeing as you won’t be getting fucked, you stand up from the bed.
You pick up your bag which holds the change of clothes for your dance class, and you throw it over your shoulder. You reach out for the door handle, and as you pull it down, Heeseung speaks.
“Will I see you at Moonstruck?” He wonders, a smirk forming on his slightly swollen lips. He waits for you to look at him, but you don’t even do that.
“You’ll see me,” you nod, opening the door all the way. “Doesn’t mean you’ll leave with me though.” You tell him, knowing what he was trying to get at.
Then, you leave. You hear the door shut behind you and you make your way down the quiet corridor, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder as you do so.
Really, it was a good thing Sunghoon interrupted. You knew if anything further happened with you and Heeseung then you’d only be later than you already were for class—and he’d been complaining about the amount of course work he had to catch up on prior.
You suppose it’s a win-win situation.
The spring air nips your face the moment you step foot outside. The wind blows a little, your hair is forced over your shoulders as your feet carry you in the direction you need to go.
Thankfully, the Performing Arts block isn’t too far from Heeseung and Sunghoon’s dorm room, so it isn’t long until you arrive outside the changing rooms.
You remove your clothes quickly and replace them with a pair of joggers and black crop top. Your outfit isn’t anything special. It’s not flashy or eye-catching. It’s just right for practice.
And when you arrive outside of the studio, you knock against the door before entering quietly, hoping coach Kang doesn’t notice your late arrival.
But she does. Of course she does. She’s a dance teacher for a living, she notices all the little things, all the mistakes, all your lateness, and so the second the door shuts behind you, her head snaps over in your direction.
“Jeon Ara,” she calls your name like she’s expecting you to snap to attention.
“Sorry I’m late.” Is all you say, running your hand through your hair as you move to join everyone else in the center of the room, the quiet squeak of your trainers filling the awkward silence.
“You say that every time,” coach Kang clears her throat. “The words are starting to lose their meaning. Do something about your poor punctuality, or don’t show your face in my studio.”
With that, her eyes linger on you and you remain silent. You don’t have anything else to say. You said your apology, and that was it.
Nevertheless, the older woman nods to her assistant sitting at a desk in the corner with a laptop in front of her, using it to control the music.
Just as the song starts blasting through the speakers, vibrating the floorboards and jolting the wall mirrors ever so slightly, you roll your neck and stretch the muscles in your arms and legs. There’s nothing worse than dancing on muscles that weren’t prepped.
And then your eyes meet Anna’s in the mirror. She has her lip tugged between her teeth as she tries to hold back her chuckles. Her shoulders are trembling, and she’s shaking her head a little in a mix of disapproval and amusement.
She knew where you’d been. Not only could she tell from your slightly flustered state, but she was also your best friend—and roommate. She knew everything about you and your whereabouts’.
When the music stops again and coach Kang informs your class that she wants to see you dance individually, you’re quick to join Anna by the stash of water.
She hands you a freezing bottle like it’s instinct, and you can’t help but groan as the liquid gushes down your throat, cooling the inside of your body before it does the same to the outside.
“So,” Anna starts with a smug smirk on her mouth. She screws the lid of the bottle back on her drink and takes a seat on the bench. “How is Heeseung?”
You know what she’s doing. And you can’t help but chuckle and roll your eyes.
It seemed that no matter how many times you’d told her you didn’t like Heeseung like that, it only fueled the narrative she had about you both. According to her, you and Heeseung were in the ‘denial stage’.
That thought alone made you feel sick, and your chest tightened.
“Don’t know, don’t care.” You simply shrug, brushing her off as you let out a sigh. And that was true. You didn’t know, and you didn’t care to know.
Sure, you and Heeseung saw each other often and hooked up more than you did with your other one night stands, but that wasn’t to say you guys had formed feelings for each other. You didn’t speak about real life things. You didn’t care about what was going on in each others lives.
And that was another reason why you kept going back to Heeseung. He understood the way you were, and you understood him. It was simple. Fuck and leave. Nothing else.
Before Anna had the chance to say anything else, she was stopped when coach Kang called your name, telling you it was your turn.
You send your best friend a smirk and poke your tongue out slightly, before you make your way to the center of the dance floor.
“You ready?” Kang asks with her eyebrow raised.
Then, the music starts and you dance.
You dance like there’s no tomorrow, like the music has taken over your body and made all of your worries vanish. Your mind goes quiet for once, and you feel your heartbeat steady, despite moving around as much as you.
By the time you finish, your clothes cling to your skin like glue. Sweat lines your skin uncomfortable, and your hair sticks to the back of your neck as your cheeks flush.
The sound of your classmates clapping their hands together eats at the nervousness you feel as you wait for your feedback.
“You did good.” Coach Kang nods with a small, proud smile on her mouth. She rolls her sleeves up in her tracksuit and then sits her hands on her hips. “But you know you did good. And that’s the problem. You’re not improving because you don’t think there’s anything to improve.”
The women’s words ring throughout the room, bouncing from one wall to the next, before hitting you right in the chest. You’re surprised you didn’t stumble back with how hard they struck.
Your eyes flutter as you listen, not quite knowing how to respond.
“Did you notice your movements weren’t tight?” Kang’s head tilted a little, and she waits for you to respond.
For a second, you stay silent, debating whether or not you actually want to waste your breath on her.
But your eyes lock with Anna’s and she nods, encouragingly and supportively.
Your lips part and you kiss your teeth. “I didn’t notice. Sorry.” You bluntly tell her, forcing a smile to appear on your face. Your fists clench as your sides, and your fingernails dig into your palm, attempting to ground you.
“Thought so.” Kang nods and folds her arms across her chest. “Very well. Work on that this week. Tighten your movements.”
Then you nod and walk away as the next person takes your spot, ready for their judgement.
You carelessly plonk yourself down next to Anna and run a hand through your hair in frustration. Coach Kang always knows how to get under your skin. And you hate that you let her do it so easily.
Nevertheless, when all individual evaluations came to an end and the clock strikes five-pm, everyone gathers in a sweaty mess, bidding their goodbyes to one another as the session comes to an end.
“Remember girls,” coach Kang calls out to no one in particular, and she looks up from the clipboard that sits in her hold. “Don’t let your grades slip. You know the deal, right? Keep a B in Maths and you can stay on this course.”
All you can do is roll your eyes and scoff. You can just about be asked to complete the theory work for this class, let alone Maths.
You're pleased when you can finally grab your things and start heading back to your dorm. The air outside is fresh, and it takes your tinted cheeks, and dries your clammy skin.
“Their relationship is so draining,” Anna groans in annoyance. She throws her head back as she walks closely beside you, and rolls her eyes. “I'm not even a part of the relationship, and I want to tear my hair out!” She dramatically huffs.
You can’t help but laugh at her as you think about your two friends, Yuna and Ni-Ki. You hum in agreement as your gaze fixes on the pathway in front of you, and you tighten your grip on your bag.
The two had been on-and-off for more than a year, but it doesn’t surprise you. It never does. Relationships always seem to end the same way—loud, messy, suffocating. People staying longer than they want to, pretending there’s still something there when there isn’t.
You’ve seen it happen your whole life. You’ve felt it. Lived in it.
Love doesn’t last. Never. It just lingers like a bad smell until it turns into something else—something worse.
“You’re still coming out tonight, right?” You suddenly wonder, turning to look down at her with your eyebrows slightly furrowed.
Anna pouts a little and bobs her head. “Yeah, Moonstruck, right? Everyone else is going.”
You nod once, finally reaching your dorm room.
“Good,” you breathe a laugh and watch as Anna punches in the code to the room. “Then we’re drinking ten times more than usual.”
Your roommate lets out a snort and pushes the door open, allowing you to walk in before her. You switch on the light and you’re met with the mess of the room.
“Now that,” Anna starts, shutting the door with her foot. “Is something I can get behind.”
The bass consumes you before you can even step inside.
It pushes through the walls, low and heavy, vibrating through your feet as they move slowly, following the people in front of you. You can feel the adrenaline swirling in your stomach like a cocktail you haven't been able to get your hands on yet.
You hum to the song you can hear playing in Moonstruck. It's something by Britney Spears—Toxic, to be exact—but your ears are too consumed with the argument between your two friends to pay much attention to the lyrics.
You can feel Anna's eyes on you, waiting for you to look up so you can acknowledge the fact you both feel the same annoyance toward Ni-Ki and Yuna's disagreement.
But your eyes stay trained to your knee-high black boots. You're thankful for the outfit you chose to wear tonight—or well, grateful for Anna, who gave you the crimson bra. Without that, your black mini skirt that barely covers your ass, and the black sheer lace top you have over it wouldn't look nearly as good.
As always, you didn't do much with your hair. You kept the natural wave it holds, and added a bit of volume to it by buffing your hands through it in the mirror. You only had to fix your short bangs.
And your makeup tonight is your usual smokey look—black eyeliner consuming your waterline and looking slightly smudged, and your lips were a shade of brown. No gloss. You don't like gloss. It's too sticky. And a soft blush on your cheekbones. You didn't put too much on—but what's the point? It'd probably be gone by the end of the night.
"Why did you feel the need to like her post in the first place?!" Yuna's raised voice was enough to pull you from your trance-like state. Your eye flicked from her enraged expression, to Ni-Ki's frustrated one.
"I told you, Yu, we're friends. I've known her since we were wearing nappies. Our parents are close." Ni-Ki tried to explain as he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair, and his tone was full of pleas as he reached out to hold her arm.
Instantly, Yuna pulled her arm away from him so fast, she nearly tumbled out of the queue, and if it hadn't been for Chaeyoung to catch her, then she would've felt the consequences of her actions.
"Come on, Yuna, calm down." Chaeyoung breathed sweetly.
"People are watching." You tell them suddenly. Your voice is steady and clearly annoyed. Your arms remain folded across your stomach and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at the strangers staring.
"Just leave it." You advise, and watch as Yuna's jaw drops and she lets out a dramatic scoff.
"He started it. How am I—"
Before she had the chance to finish her sentence, the sound of Anna groaning made her stop. "Ara's right. Just wait until we're inside and talk about it then."
And you knew what Anna was doing. You knew why she was telling them to wait until they got inside. It was basically like saying 'wait until you're shit-faced, then you'll forget all about what happened'—because that was always what happened.
No matter how serious the argument was. A drop of alcohol on the tongue solved all their problems.
So, with that, Yuna hummed with her nose up at her boyfriend. Ni-Ki scoffed and shook his head. Chaeyoung stayed close to Yuna. And you and Anna shared silent rants and kept close.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
And by the time you all get past the two dramatically built bouncers and enter the overflowing club, you feel like you can finally breathe again.
Everything hits you at once. The music isn't just loud, it's deafening, you can't even hear yourself think, and the beat of it booms through your chest like a second heartbeat, rather than just your feet this time.
Lights flash repeatedly. Reds, blues, and greens hitting you then changing before you can process what colour it is. It's the only form of light inside, and you can just about make out the swarm of bodies surrounding you.
There aren't sections. There isn't a seating area, there isn't a dance floor. Everywhere is everything. The entire floor of Moonstruck is a dance floor, and if you're able to find a seat, then you're just considered lucky. There are people standing, swaying, holding their drinks in the air as they belt the lyrics of the song playing without a care in the world.
The air is thick with a concoction of things—perfume, smoke from the smoke machines, and sweat. Your feet stick to the floor as you brush past the people, the floor coated in a thin layer of dried alcohol from the thousands of spillages.
But you love it. It's what brings you comfort.
Anna is the first to hand you a shot. You hadn't even noticed them order a round of Vodka shots, you'd been too busy trying to look at those around you.
"Shot! Shot! Shot!" Your best friend yells at the top of her lungs, and you all hold the shot in the air, joining her chant before you quickly put the rim of the glass to your lips and throw your head back.
As always, the liquid burns. It feels like your throat is turning inside out, but all it takes is a shake of your head and a grimace for you to get over it.
The first shot of the night is always the hardest.
Before you can let the alcohol settle in your stomach, Chaeyoung shoves your usual order in your hand, muttering something about how this round is on her.
You take it gratefully, and catch the black paper straw (which you despise) between your lips before you drink the Double Vodka and Redbull like it's running out of fashion.
You set the cup down on the bar once you're finished, and lean against it, cringing at the way your arm sticks to it when you pull it off. And it's when you're able to grab the bartenders' attention in less than ten minutes, that you know tonight's going to be a good night.
You order three rounds of shots for everyone. One round is of Tequila, the next is Sambuca (which you nearly throw up on), and then finally Rum. All spirits that you know will get you drunk sooner rather than later.
"You meant what you said then?!" Anna shouts into your ear, and you're hit with her alcohol scented breath. "Really drinking ten times more?"
Though it takes you a little longer to process her words, when you do, your eyes instantly land on Yuna and Ni-Ki—who are now hanging off of each other like a sloth on a branch—and you nod.
"Of course." You bob your head the moment you finally look back at Anna, and the two of you share a giggle before finishing off your drinks.
For another hour, you occupy yourself by dancing—not break dancing or anything like that. You're not that kind of person, though you have seen someone pull out a whole dance routine to Justin Biebers' 'Baby' in your nightlife experiences. It wasn't a pretty sight.
Your body sways in the sea of bodies, your ass grinding against whoever was behind you. There's a thin layer of sweat kissing your skin, making it glisten beneath the strobe lights, and your hand is wet from the times your drink had spilt due to people knocking into you. But you don't care.
You're too lost in the setlist the DJ decided to play and head deep in your ninth—or tenth?—or eleventh?—at this point, you're not too sure—drink to care.
You move your hips rhythmically, your hair is a mess and sticking to the back of your neck uncomfortably. Your mind is a haze. It's like your body is there, but you're not mentally.
You can hardly process what's going on around you, or feel the hands on your body, or hear the music.
You feel hot and sweaty, and exhausted and overwhelmed. And being crowded by this amount of people makes you feel trapped.
Your feet feel glued to the ground, like you're trying to move them but can't. It's a struggle.
It's not until the song transitions into the next that you're finally able to move. You swallow thickly, your heart racing, and you push away the strong hold the stranger has on your hips.
You manage to weave your way through the crowd, not caring about how hard you barged into them or not. That was the last thing on your mind.
All you needed was fresh air. Something to clear your airway. Something to help the discomfort in your chest.
You push open the door to the smoking area in a huff. Your actions are sloppy and you have no control over them. You hate it. And the second the night air engulfs you in an embrace, your body shudders.
The feeling was better than sex. You let out a long sigh of relief and feel your shoulders slump as you sit on an empty bench.
Thankfully, the smoking area wasn't too crowded. There was maybe one or two people minding their business, doing what the area was intended for, and a couple snogging each other's faces off in another corner, but that was it.
You think it's 'cause the setlist tonight is too good to miss out on, but you don't dwell on it. All you do is reach into your skirt pocket and pull out the tin you took the time to decorate in Badtz-Maru stickers and retrieve a cigarette, placing it between your lips.
You use your other hand to pat your body for your lighter, and when you finally find it stuffed in your bra, you use it to ignite the tip of the cigarette.
The first inhale burns a little on the way down, scolding your chest before you exhale slowly. The smoke leaves your parted lips in a thin stream, and it disappears into the air, before you take another drag.
And for a second, you start to properly relax.
Until the familiar sound of the door opening again jolts your eyes open, and it's followed by the music and yells from inside. The door shuts with a click, and you don't bother to turn to see who joined the area.
Not until you hear him mumbling to himself like he's been put on x2 speed. Your eyes move from your shoes and up at the person.
He's standing a couple feet from the door, like he hasn't decided whether being out here was what he wanted. He has one hand running through his mop of brunette hair, and his other awkwardly dangling beside him, his fingers fidgeting.
He looked out of place. You can see that just from his body language.
Your eyes rake up his body, narrowing up at him as your head cocks to the side ever so slightly. His outfit is nice, you will admit that. A pair of blue jeans, a button up shirt that's a little too big, peeking out from the bottom of his black sweater. And the collar of his shirt and knitted jumper is unbuttoned at the top, and pulling the outfit together, is an oversized leather jacket.
And the moment his eyes meet yours, his actions pause. His lips part in shock and his tongue pokes out to nervously lick his lips. "Sorry—am I interrupting..?" He asks, adjusting the black-rim glasses on his face.
It takes you a few seconds to answer him. You're too busy taking in his flushed cheeks and his fluttering eyelashes. His chest heaves and he continues to run his hand through his hair.
"Interrupting?" You question, your voice steady and not nearly as nervous as his.
He nods his head and motions to the cigarette that sits between your fingers. "Yeah, your—uh—your smoke?" He awkwardly asks and swallows, licking his lips again.
You mentally note his habit and lean back against the brick wall behind you. It's cold, and startles you for a moment, making you remember why you're out here in the first place.
"My smoke?" You smirk teasingly, finding his awkwardness amusing. You knock off the collected ash at the tip of your cigarette, before bringing it up to your lips again.
"Is that not what they call it?" He breathes, rubbing the back of his head as the corner of his mouth tugs into a small smile, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth.
All you do is shake your head, and you snort quietly. You cross your leg over the other and adjust your position slightly. Your gaze looks him up and down again. You take in his embarrassed posture, his blushed face, and how he keeps biting his lip.
You tap the ash from your cigarette again, and hum to yourself. He's cute.
"Want a drag?" You hold out the cigarette as an offering. A part of you knows what his answer will be, you can tell just from looking at him. But another part wants to see if you're wrong. Wants to see if maybe the saying is right—never judge a book by its cover.
Immediately, the boy shakes his head. "No, I don't smoke..." he pauses, and his lips part. "Thanks for the offer though." He nods.
Silence falls again, and he continues to stand in front of you awkwardly. You watch as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, and he chews the inside of his cheek.
"You just gonna stand there?" You wonder. Your lips part a little and you tilt your head a fraction, looking up at him. "Or are you gonna sit?" You then nod to the empty space next to you.
You can tell your question takes him by surprise just from the way his eyes widen. Clearly he doesn't hide his emotions well.
"Sit? Next to you?" He stutters out, eyebrows raised and the blush on his cheeks only intensifying.
"No, next to the couple eating each other's faces off," you start, and his lips part again in shock, not quite getting your sarcasm. "Yes, next to me." You softly chuckle.
"Oh." Is all he can muster before he hesitantly moves to sit, and as he sits down, you're able to get a whiff of the musky cologne he's got on. It makes you smile in content. It's nice.
Once again, neither of you say anything. You continue to take drags from your cigarette, and his legs start to bounce as his hands rub his thighs awkwardly.
"Did you come out here to escape all of... that?" He suddenly asks, tearing the silence apart and nods to the building.
"No." You shake your head simply. You know it's a lie, and yes you did come out here to get fresh air, but you're not about to get deep with a stranger. "I just came out here 'cause I can." You shrug.
"Yeah... right..." he half smiles, nodding at your answer and not pushing. He looks away from you and down at the floor, like he's mentally yelling at himself for asking such a stupid question.
"My friends dragged me out." He then tells you like you asked. You didn't. And you don't really care why he's in the club tonight, but you listen anyway. "Said I needed to 'get out and laid' or something..."
"And you listened?" You scoff quietly, watching him closely.
His tongue pokes out and glides across his bottom lip, and he can't help but smile wildly at your tone. He lets out a breathy laugh and nods. "Yeah, but I'm starting to think it was a mistake."
"Yeah?" You ask. This time, your voice is full of something you hadn't planned to show just yet. Flirtation laces your words and the way you mirror his breathy laugh.
"Yeah." He nods again, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "I'm Jake, by the way." He introduces and turns to look at you again.
Your eyes meet in an instant, and his introduction replays in your head. Jake. You like the name.
"Ara." You nod, relighting the tip of the cigarette again.
"Pretty name. Only three letters, I like it. It's short. And simple. And easy to remember. Mines only four letters, so just one more—but people still tend to forget it, I don't know what—"
He's rambling now. Like a stuck record and all you can do is bite back a smirk. You can practically smell the nerves he's drowning in, and your eyes fall to his bouncing knee.
"Are you always this awkward with girls?" You ask with furrowed brows.
His movements halt as soon as he hears your question. It's like you've just caught him out on a lie, or something he was trying to hide.
"Yeah.." Jake breathes, and you watch his shoulders slump. "Look, I should probably go back in before they come looking for me—they get like that sometimes." He suggests and starts to stand in a hurry.
Now that his 'cover' is blown, he feels exposed. He feels vulnerable. And he wants nothing more than to hide and escape the embarrassment forming in his chest.
"Or you could stay." Your words come out more of a statement, rather than a suggestion. And it makes Jake halt. You say it so simply, so straightforward that it catches him off guard.
"Hm?" He hums, thinking he must've heard you wrong. He had to have. There was no way you were telling him to stay.
"I said, you could stay." You repeat and nod back to where he once sat. Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and your eyelids hood as you watch him.
Jake doesn't ask you to say it again. His jaw drops a little in shock, and his eyes blink rapidly. He pushes his glasses up his nose and then returns to his place next to you—this time, he sits a little closer to you.
"Do you live on campus?" You then ask, dropping the cigarette by your foot and using the bottom of your boot to put it out.
"Yeah." Jake responds, his tone laced with confusion as his eyebrows knit together.
"Like—five minutes away."
"Good." You hum and stand, dusting off your hands on your skirt. You turn to look down at him, waiting for him to stand too.
"Good?" He repeats with a gulp. Then, he stands. He isn't too tall. Just enough for you to look up at him.
"Yeah, you wanna get laid, right?" You question and it takes Jake by surprise. He nearly gasps at your words and he glances around him, wondering if anybody else heard what you'd said.
Thankfully (for him) they hadn't. Everyone was in their own bubble, minding their own business.
"You'll do that...?" He says just above a whisper, inching closer a little so only you hear.
You nod and fold your arms across your chest. "Yes, now let's go. I don't like waiting around."
And Jake, with some hesitation, nodded. His eyelashes fluttered and he ran a hand through his hair, before he moved to walk in front of you.
He guided you through the crowded club, apologising to everyone he knocked into even if it wasn't his fault. You left Moonstruck together, your hands now held as you walked across the street, heading for his dorm room.
Despite it being your idea to leave so you could fuck, you still made sure to go to his dorm. Your place was strictly off limits to one night stands. You didn't want to share such an intimate space with someone you couldn't give two shits about. They didn't deserve to know that side of you.
"Uh, this is it." You hear Jake announce as you come to stand in front of a door. The block of dorms is silent. Too silent for a boys section, but you don't mind it.
You watch Jake fiddle with his keys, desperately trying to unlock the door as quickly as he could. He even drops them, muttering words of frustration beneath his breath as he bent down to pick them up, before trying again.
When you finally enter, and Jake switches on the light, you're shocked to say the least.
Sure, the dorm was the same layout as every other—two beds on either side of the room, a door leading to the bathroom, desks, side tables and dressers—but the reason you were quite taken back was because it was spotless.
There wasn't a thing on the floor. No dirty clothes, no random pieces of stationery, no bags, no scrunched up balls of paper, no nothing.
"Do you hire a cleaner?" You couldn't help but question as your eyes danced around the room, trying to find something out of place.
"What?—oh, no, just, my roommate, he likes to keep it tidy." Jake stutters with a nod, and his eyes never leave you, they follow you as you walk around the room, inspecting everything.
"Which side is yours?" You then wonder as you stand between the two beds. One side is full of vinyls and different makes of guitars, and the other is quite bare, bar the academic posters on the walls.
Jake nods to your left and without hesitation, you turn towards his section.
His bed is made, and his desk holds nothing but a computer and an ipad, and (what you assume to be) a journal. On the wall above the desk, is a poster of the Isaac Newton Laws, and beside it is another poster about Protons, Neutrons and Electrons.
"Let me guess," you start, a teasing grin on your lips as you rest your hand on the back of his desk chair. Your eyes flick between the posters and Jake, and you cock your head to the side. "You major in Physics?"
Jake lets out a small laugh and shoves his hands in his jean pockets, a little embarrassed. "That obvious?" His cheeks tint red.
You purse your lips and shake your head. "No, not at all." You then smirk at him, and decide you're done looking around. You don't really care about his things, it's not like you'll be in his room again.
"So, you wanna get laid?" You bluntly ask, narrowing your eyes up at him as you take a step closer to him.
You watch as Jake's eyes widen a little in shock, and he sucks in a breath, removing one hand from his trousers and running it through his hair. He hesitates for a moment, but soon finds the words.
"I mean, sure—yeah—if that's what you want, though, of course." He stutters out quickly.
You find entertainment in his current state, and now you're standing in front of him. You're close, but not touching yet. Your eyes meet and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I do." You nod, and your voice is low and seductive. The air around you suddenly feels suffocating, but you don't mind. Your head tilts a little and you narrow your eyes. "You're not a virgin, right?"
You've fucked a virgin before and it turned out horrible. He told you he loved you mid-orgasm and killed the mood, so you don't want to make the same mistake ever again.
Instantly, as if he'd be embarrassed to be a virgin, Jake shakes his head. He doesn't say a word, but he doesn't have to. You can tell by the way his eyes gloss over with lust and become doe, what kind of person he is in bed. And that only makes you more excited.
"Are you always this quiet?" You tease, but your tone is serious. You slowly reach up and push a strand of hair out of his eyes. Your fingers brush over his glasses before your hand finally lands on his shoulder.
Jake shakes his head again. He swallows and chews his bottom lip as his eyebrows raise a little. "No..." he manages to croak out and it makes you smile.
Then, deciding you've had enough build-up, you lean in. You allow your other hand to rest against his face, and pull him closer to you.
Your lips ghost his, and you hear his breathing hitch. His eyelashes flutter and he doesn't move. Not yet. It's like he's waiting to make sure this is actually happening.
And then you feel his hand gently land on your waist. He's hesitant with his actions, but still. You're happy he's doing something.
Without another second, you place your lips against his. Not too hard, but not too soft either. You apply just the right amount of pressure.
You feel Jake's hand tighten on your waist, like he's trying to make sure you're real. He exhales into the kiss and something inside of him gives in.
His lips move against yours, a little unsure at first, like he's trying to follow your lead without messing up. It's clumsy, a bit off-beat. He's trying his best to seem dominant, and there's something about that that makes your chest twinge. You don't like it.
So, you take control. You kiss him back harder, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. Your hands meet behind his neck and tighten, bringing his body closer against yours as you tilt your head into the kiss.
You hear him groan quietly, and your stomach churns. His breathing hitches and your tongues meet. He lets you win a battle that seemed nonexistent to him, and you kiss into his mouth.
His body tenses beneath your touch, and as your tongue explore his mouth, he lets out something better than a groan—a whine. And you nearly release in your underwear at the sound.
His hands press firmly into your waist, now pulling you against him. You hum into the kiss to show your approval, and that seems to be all it takes.
His grip tightens. Not dominant. Not confident. Just with intent.
And you smirk against his mouth, before you move forward, forcing him to stumble back until the back of his legs hit his bed.
Not once does he try to pull his lips away from yours. He kisses you like it's an addiction, and you can't help but smirk to yourself. It's cute.
However, you pull your lips from him and take in his confused expression. Your hands slowly run down his clothed chest, the fabric of his sweater tickling your fingers a little. When you reach the bottom of it, you don't hesitate to pull it up, wanting nothing more than for it to be off.
He understands, and with some struggle, pulls it over his head. You watch as he begins to fold it neatly, and grow impatient. You quietly scoff before taking the sweater from him and throwing it to the floor.
You don't give Jake time to react, because you push his shoulders, forcing him to sit back on the edge of the bed. Your lips meet his neck and you start to kiss the area softly, just to get him to relax again.
You feel his body melt into the touch, and that's when you decide to suck. You move from the crook of his neck, all the way up to behind his ear, which makes his body shudder at the sensation.
He bites his lip to prevent moans from falling, which you hate. So you detach your lips and look at him, shaking your head a little in disapproval.
"Don't, Jake." You say, licking your lips. "I wanna hear you."
Clearly taken back, Jake's lips part but nothing comes out. His eyes blink and he gulps, before nodding his head.
Then you continue your attack on his neck, and take the lobe of his ear in your mouth and suck, enjoying the noises that he finally allows to leave his mouth.
His hand falls from your waist and he leans back on the bed, cocking his head to the side to give you more access, which you're grateful for. You continue to kiss like your life depends on it, and his whines and pants only get louder.
Subconsciously, your thighs clench. You can feel the arousal building up in your core, and that's just from the sounds he's making. You hadn't realised men whimpering would be a turn on for you until now.
You pull your lips from his skin to catch your breath, and as you do you move to sit on his lap, swinging a leg either side of his thighs and resting your hands on his shoulders for support.
The second you're sitting, his hands leave the mattress and land on your waist—but that's not good enough for you. You want more. You need more.
So, your hands move from his shoulders and hover over his larger ones, where you then guide them to sit on your ass. "Here." You say just above a whisper, keeping your eyes on his.
All Jake does is nod again. He doesn't question you on anything. Not when you kiss his lips again. Not when you start to unbutton his shirt. And not when you start to rock your hips against his.
He lets you do whatever you want, whatever you need, and that alone is enough to soak your underwear.
You continue to slowly and deliberately roll your hips, pressing your core down against the growing bulge in his pants. The frictions makes your clit throb, but it's the way Jake's breathing hitches that makes you ache for more.
"You feel that?" You murmur against his lips, purposely grinding harder on the next roll. He whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut. He throws his head back, disconnecting your lips. "You're already so hard for me, Jakey. Just from a few kisses on the neck?" You mock with a smirk.
Jake lets out another broken sound. It's half a whine, half a gasp, and you feel his fingers dig into your ass, pulling you even closer.
His hips twitch upwards, knocking against your cunt, and you bite your lip to hide the effect he has on you. You don't want to give him that satisfaction just yet.
You slide one hand down his bare chest, and reach the waistband of his jeans. You unbuckle his belt with ease and pull it from the loops in his jeans. You move to the button, and pop it open before you tug at the zipper slowly, letting the sound mix with Jake's heavy breathing.
"Lift your hips for me, Jake." You instruct softly.
Instantly, just like he's done so far, he obeys. He pushes up just enough for you to be able to pull the jeans down his thighs. You don't bother taking them off completely, you'll do that later.
For now, you're too focused on the way his dick painfully presses against the fabric of his boxers, with a small wet patch already forming at the tip.
Your mouth practically waters at the sight, but once again, you don't let him know how stunned you are at his size.
He isn't massive, but he isn't small. He's just above average from what you can see, and it makes your cheeks heat up and your heart race.
You don't hesitate to slip your hand beneath you both and rub him over his underwear. You enjoy the way his hips jolt at the sudden contact, and nearly moan at the sounds he makes.
It's like he's been deprived of the female touch, and that makes your stomach churn. You decide to dip your hand under the waistband of his boxers, and wrap your fingers around his length. He's hot, heavy, and leaking.
And the moment you give him a stroke, his jaw drops and his head falls back again. His eyes are shut tight and he lets out strangled noises.
"Fuck..." His words come out shaky, and he takes his bottom lip between his deep, digging his teeth into the plumpness.
You gently squeeze at the base of his cock and stroke up again. Your thumb brushes over the slick-covered head, and his thighs tremble beneath you. With every tug, every twist, every pulse, more whines fall from his mouth.
A small smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth, and you lean into his ear, your lips brushing against the skin and sending goosebumps across his body.
"You sound so pretty, Jakey." You call him that name again and he lets out a slightly louder moan. His hips buck up into your touch and you can't help but chuckle. "Do you like it? Do you like me touching you like this?"
All Jake can do is nod his head quickly, and squeeze your ass like it's the only thing that can keep him grounded through this.
"Hm?" You hum, cocking your head to the side, and you tighten the grip you have on his dick.
"Yes—shit..." he pants in a hurry. His eyes are hooded and glossy, and all you can do is smile in content.
And you could stay in this position for hours, tugging at his dick, enjoying the sounds he makes, but the ache between your legs is starting to get unbearable. Your entire cunt is throbbing, and desperate for some sort of action.
So, keeping your hand still wrapped around him, you lower your hips, pressing your clothed pussy to his thigh. You roll against him in the same way you did when you were grinding against his dick, and for a moment, you feel content.
But the more you grind, and the more pressure you apply, you start to realise it's not enough.
"I want you to touch me too." You tell him, and you're doing everything you can not to show how you're feeling through your voice. You use the hand you have on his shoulder to guide his hand between your legs, and press it against your cunt.
You nearly moan at the touch, and your eyes shut for a moment. You let go of his hand and place it back on his shoulder. It was your turn to ground yourself now.
"Jake," you breath, trying to calm yourself. His fingers press against your soaked panties, and you watch as his eyes widen ever so slightly in shock, like he can't quite believe you're that wet.
"You feel how wet I am because of you." It isn't a question, it's a statement. And you swallow a moan when you feel his fingers start to rub you through the fabric, mirroring your touch on his dick.
You continue to stroke him, enjoying the way he twitches in your touch and the desperate noises he makes, and Jake starts to rub clumsy circles onto your clothed clit—it's clear he's too overwhelmed to do much more than press and circle his fingers.
You lean down, your hair falling over the sides of your face as you start to press kisses to his jaw, before you move to his ear. "You've been so good for me, Jakey. You're letting me touch you however I want."
He whimpers at your praise, and leans into your lips as his hips jolt up into your fist. He mumbles something neither of you can understand, and you smile at his fucked-out expression.
You give him one final stroke before you pull your hand away. He whines at the loss, and his eyes flutter open with a dazed, pleading look.
All you do is shake your head, and curl your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down his legs. His hips lift obediently, allowing you to free his dick entirely.
You watch as it slaps his stomach, and you blink at how flushed his glistening tip is. The sight makes your core clench.
You usually don't like giving blowjobs. They've always felt like a chore. Felt like a drag. But right now, with Jake looking at you like you hung the moon, trembling under your touch, and whining desperately, you want to. You want to watch him lose it because of your mouth.
So, without another word, you slide off his lap. You ignore the ache you feel when his fingers leave your cunt, and kneel between his spread thighs.
You look up at him, watching as his eyes widen, and lips part in surprise. He goes to say something, but you beat him to it.
"You've been a good boy, Jake." You tell him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, and you give it a slow tug. "You deserve this."
Before he can respond, you lean in and slowly drag your tongue from the base to the tip, tasting his salty precum. And Jake's body jerks at the sensation, a broken moan slipping past his lips.
"Shit.." he cries, biting his bottom lip again.
You hum and take his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. His hands fly to his bed sheets and he grips them tightly instead of your hair, like he's afraid to touch you without permission.
You take him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head—and with every bob, you suck harder, earning another whimper or a quiet whine.
You can feel him fighting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth—trying hard to stay still for you.
And you pull off of him for a second, strings of saliva still connecting you to his throbbing dick as you use your hand to jerk him as you look up at him. "You can touch my hair if you want. Just don't push."
You watch as he nods and one hand leaves the (now creased) sheet and gently lands on the back of your head, his fingers threading in your dark hair without any pressure.
You're quick to continue your previous actions, and take him back in your mouth. You relax your throat, feeling your eye lashes flutter as you do, and you sink down until your nose brushes his pelvis.
The sound Jake makes is filthy—a high, needy whine that goes straight to your clit, and makes your thighs rub together. You finally moan around him, but only because you know the vibration will make him twitch.
You fall into a steady pattern. One hand strokes what you can't take in your mouth, and the other gently massages his balls. His whines become louder and less controlled, and soon turn into breathless pleas.
You can tell he's getting close when his thighs clench beneath your forearms, his breathing becomes uneven, and his hands tightens in your hair.
So, you pull off of him with a wet pop, and stroke him firmly with your hand whilst you look up at his flushed, desperate face.
"Not yet, I want you to cum in me." You say softly, and he gulps, nodding his head eagerly.
Without another word, you drop his dick from your hold, watching as it stays standing. You stand up and quickly strip from your skirt and panties, purposely leaving your top on.
The power of being mostly clothed whilst Jake is completely naked sends another rush of arousal through you. And you climb back onto his lap, straddling him again, and line his dick up with your entrance.
Your breathing hitches quietly and the sensation of his warm tip meeting your soaked cunt makes your stomach swirl. You sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch, and you both moan at the stretch.
When you're finally seated, you pause for a moment, and you take the sides of his face in your hands, adjusting his glasses slightly.
"Look at me." You breathe.
Jake's eyes meet yours through his lenses. They're glassy and overwhelmed, and he nods as his hands find your ass again, squeezing it gently.
You roll your hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm, just to tease him. And every time you grind harder, he lets out a broken sound, which only encourages you.
You ride him steadily, and your hands rest on his shoulders, watching as every emotion hits him.
"Touch me, Jake." You instruct just above a whisper, and he doesn't hesitate. He snakes his hand beneath your bodies and clumsily locates your clit.
He starts rubbing tight circles against the swollen bud, matching your pace as best as he can. And the added sensation makes your moans mix with his whines.
You ride him harder, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin fills the room along with his needy whimpers and your praises.
"Doing so well, Jakey..." you manage to say through your breathy moans. You lean down and kiss him messily. "You're such a good boy—you gonna cum for me Jake? Fill me up?"
He nods desperately, fingers pressing harder against your clit. "Yes—fuck, please, let me—" he cries out with his eyes shut.
You clench around him deliberately, and that's all it takes. A loud, broken moan rips from his throat as he throws his head back, releasing his load deep inside you, and his hips stutter up into yours.
The feeling of him pulsing inside you, and his desperate whines is enough to push you over the edge.
Pleasure crashes through your body, making your thighs shake as you grind through your orgasm, milking every last drop from him.
Your heart pounds against your chest, and you rest your head against his shoulder, desperately trying to control your twitching body.
You both stay like that for a minute. His face is buried in your neck as aftershocks of his orgasm ripple through him, and his arms are now wrapped around your waist, keeping you close.
You can feel Jake slowly softening inside you, and every shift of your hips makes his dick twitch and an over sensitive noise leave his mouth.
Eventually, you find the strength within you to lift yourself off of him—which earns another sound from Jake.
You roll onto your back beside him, desperately trying to catching your breath. Your legs parts slightly, and you can feel his cum slowly leaking out of you.
It's not long until your eyes find him, and the sight of him flushed, his chest heaving, cock shiny and limp against his thigh, makes your stomach churn.
You watch as Jake slowly turns to look down at you, his eyes still glossy, and his lips swollen.
His hand hesitantly reaches out and rests on your thigh, encouraging you to spread your legs a little more so he can see between them.
"Can I..." he awkwardly starts. His voice is dry, and shy, and he licks his lips, swallowing thickly before trying again.
"Can I taste you?" He nods to your soaked cunt, and just the thought of him between your legs makes you wetter—if that was even possible.
"Greedy." You giggle because despite being shocked by his request, you still find it in you to tease him. You watch him blush and look away sheepishly.
Nevertheless, you reach for his arm and urge him to crawl between your legs, where you then run a hand through his thick hair.
"You want to?" You ask, looking down at him.
He nods frantically, his eyes blinking as he glances between you and your cunt. "Yes." He breathes, and you feel his breath hit your clit.
You don't say anything else. All you do is tug at his hair gently and guide him to your soaked pussy, where he leans in obediently.
He starts from your entrance and drags his tongue up to your swollen bud, savouring the taste of your arousal and his own release. He lets out a groan at the flavour, and it sends a vibration against you.
"Shit," he sucks in a breath, and your grip in his hair tightens, your hips rolling towards his mouth.
"Don't stop." You tell him in frustration, and push his head against your core again.
Jake, as always, does as he's told.
He circles your clit with the flat of his tongue, then flicks it faster, experimenting a little with the pressure, until he hears you gasp and feels your thighs tremble around his ears.
And every time you moan or tug his hair, he whimpers into your pussy.
Jake sucks harder on your clit, then licks broad stripes up your entrance and pushes his tongue inside you like he can't get enough.
His hands slide beneath your ass, pulling you even closer to his face as he loses himself in it.
Soft, desperate whines keep spilling from him, like eating you out is turning him on just as much as it is you.
"Fuck," you curse, throwing your head back against his pillows. "Shit, Jake—you're making me feel so good..."
His moans only get louder, and he starts to grind his hips into his bed, needy for some friction on his rock-hard dick.
He focuses back on your clit, sucking like his life depended on it, whilst two of his fingers slowly slide into your slick entrance.
The combination has your back arching off of the bed. The pleasure builds fast, and it starts to overwhelm you when he picks up the speed with both his tongue and fingers.
You look down at him with your lip between your teeth, biting back the moans that are threatening to fall.
His eyes are closed in bliss, cheeks flushed, lips and chin soaked in your slick. And the sight is enough to make you come undone.
"Jake—I'm gonna—" you don't have time to finish your sentence. Your orgasm crashes through you hard, making your entire body shake as your thighs clamp around his head, keeping him close.
And Jake doesn't stop. He keeps licking you through it with soft, greedy sounds until you have to push his head away, overwhelmed and panting.
But you don't take a minute to calm down. You can't. You're still needy. You still want him.
So you tug him by the hair again, and he crawls over you immediately, his face rosy and glistening.
Before he can say anything, you pull him down into another messy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He whimpers into your mouth, desperately, and you feel his dick press insistently against your thigh.
You don't hesitate to reach between you, wrapping your fingers around him and guiding his tip to your entrance.
"Inside me..." you utter against his mouth, and you feel him nod.
He pushes in with one smooth thrust, the both of you groaning at how easy it was for him to enter.
You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer, in deeper. Your arms wrap around his neck and the heels of your feet dig into his back.
"Faster, Jake." You pant, looking up at him, and Jake nods, increasing the speed of his thrusts, as he moves to bury his head in your neck, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
Every thrust of his hits deep, and one of his hands quickly hold onto your waist, gripping your skin, as his other lands beside your head. It's like he's trying to stay in control.
You tilt your hips upwards to make him hit deeper, and the new angle makes him brush against that perfect spot inside you.
Your nails carve into his back, causing a broken whimper to leave his mouth and he's quick to sink his teeth into your shoulder.
The room fills with pants and whines, and it isn't long until another orgasm bubbles in the pit of your stomach.
"I'm gonna cum." You breathe, holding him tighter. "Fill me up again, Jake." You pant and that's all the encouragement he needs.
His thrusts falter, and he moans your name as you clench around him, the both of you succumbing to the intense pressure in your core.
Your third orgasm rips through you whilst he spills deep inside you with a long, shaky whine.
It doesn't take Jake long to collapse on top of you afterward, careful not to crush you as you both pant, trying to catch your breath.
His arms wrap loosely around your waist, holding you close as you tremble.
The action is gentle—too gentle, and clingy, and it makes your stomach churn. He presses a kiss against your shoulder and his next words make you pause.
"Stay the night?" He mumbles, not really aware of what he's saying. "Please?"
And you don't answer. You just hum and wait until his breathing gets deep and shallow.
When you're certain he's fast asleep, you manage to carefully wiggle your way out from beneath him.
His cum sticks to your thighs, but you don't bother cleaning up just yet, despite how uncomfortable it feels. You dress in silence, pulling your underwear and skirt over your slightly sore hips.
The room is lit only by the glow of the city outside his window, and when you turn to look at Jake's sleeping figure, you sigh.
He looks soft and ruined in the sheets. His hair is a mess. There's some strands glued to his face with sweat, and others sticking all over the place. His lips are swollen, a faint hickey is starting to form on his neck, and his glasses are still on.
You can't help the quiet chuckle that leaves your mouth, and you reach forward, slowly removing his glasses and folding them, before you set them on his bedside table.
You slip your shoes on, grab your phone, and tug open the dorm door. You take one final glance at Jake before you leave, making sure the door clicks behind you.
And you don't look back as you walk down the dimly lit corridor.
Jake will wake up alone tomorrow and that will be that.
You'll never see him again.
