FODA-SE OS IRMÃOS DUFFER. QUE QUANDO ELES FOREM CAGAR O RABO DELES EXPLODAM E QUE PRO RESTO DA VIDA ELES MIJEM NA CUECA TODA VEZ QUE ELES ESPIRRAREM.
O maior caso de queerbait na história. Mike Wheeler você merecia mais. Will Byers você merecia mais.
Pegaram dois personagens profundos como a fossa das Marianas e transformaram eles em uma poça d'água. Finn e até o Noah eu sinto muito por terem desperdiçado a infância de vocês nisso.
Now in English cause I feel for u:
Fuck the Duffer brothers. May their asses explode when they take a shit, and may they piss in their underwear every time they sneeze for the rest of their lives.
The biggest case of queerbaiting in history. Mike Wheeler, you deserved better. Will Byers, you deserved better.
They took two characters as deep as the Mariana Trench and turned them into a puddle. Finn and even Noah, I'm sorry they wasted your childhood on this.
》 plot: every night this summer, you fantasized about your boss, Mr. Jeong. babysitting his adorable daughter all summer had turned your small crush on the young, single dad into a lust-filled infatuation. after an awkward encounter that left you both humiliated, you did your best to keep your distance at his daughter’s birthday party. that is, until fate trapped you in a bathroom with him while the party carried on outside.
》 content: oh boy, let's see, age gap, aged up yunho, virgin reader, reader lowkey down bad and porn-obsessed, bathroom sex, mirror sex, panties stay on!! grinding, cowgirl stand and carry, yunho basically using you like a fleshlight, use of sir and good girl, filthy dirty talk, cum eating, cum facial, multiple orgasms, reader obsessed with his cum lol, thigh fucking, sucking his dick while he watches porn??? MONSTER CAWK YUNHO
》 playlist: prettiest virgin- agar agar, candy- doja cat, I fucking lust you- d'african, taste so good- sabrina claudio, less of you- omar apollo, real life- the marias
You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this again, but here you were, laying in bed with a vibrator cupped to your clit, eyes glued to your phone screen as you tapped on the first video in the big dick category. It took a while for the vibrator to buzz you the right way, but once you found your sweet spot, your head sank lower into your pillow and you had to bite your lip to keep any sounds from slipping out of your mouth. This was the fifth night in a row that you jerked off, and honestly, you were exhausted; Tired of waking up late because of your little late-night endeavors, tired of feeling gross each time your wetness leaked out and stained your panties during the day, and most of all, tired of being a virgin.
The video you were watching had your favorite pornstar in it. The guy himself wasn’t at all your type, but his cock was pretty. And big. It’s weird to admit, but this is how you imagined Mr. Jeong’s cock looked like. You had been babysitting Mr. Jeong’s six-year-old daughter for the summer while school was out. She was an angel. Hana reminded you a lot of Bubbles from the PowerPuff Girls cartoon, with her sweet little voice and sensitive nature. You loved spending time with her.
Yes, throughout the summer, you had developed a crush on Hana’s Dad. How could you not? He was everything a man ought to be— tall, handsome, and kind. His being a good father was just a plus in your eyes. He worked from home, so you’d see him occasionally throughout the day. During his break, he’d come downstairs from his home office to color with Hana for a few minutes. During lunch, you’d sit with them on the patio, watching with heart eyes as he wiped ketchup off of her little mouth.
Lately, your infatuation has become all-consuming, and you resorted to buying a vibrator from Amazon to help ease your frustrations. And that’s when this little habit of yours began. It felt odd, at first. You didn’t want to be the type of person who watches porn every night for hours, imagining your boss doing all these things to you. It just sort of happened. And instead of easing your frustrations, it made them worse.
You hated being a virgin. Vibrators weren’t enough. You, for lack of a better term, needed to be dicked down. Preferably by Mr. Jeong, but that would only happen in your wildest dreams. It wasn’t like he made it easy for you. Yesterday for example, when you were preparing Hana’s PB&J, Mr. Jeong reached over your head to grab a mug from the cupboard above you. “Behind you,” he alerted, his fingers grazing over your waist as he pulled his coffee mug out. You stood frozen, the place where he touched you burning hot on your skin.
Every time he touches you, whether it’s the accidental brush of his fingers when he hands you your check or the deliberate weight of his hand on your shoulder as he thanks you at the end of the day, it only makes you crave him more and more.
The video you were watching had an obvious size kink going on. The male pornstar was huge, and he was able to pick up his petite partner and fuck into her with ease. Your thighs clenched thinking about Mr. Jeong picking you up like that and pumping you up and down his length, stuffing just the tip of his big cock into you because that’s all that could fit. Your core tightened, and your orgasm was imminent, until…
It died. Your vibrator died.
“Oh, fuck off!” You cursed, slamming your head back into your pillow. Stupid cheap fucking vibrator. Here’s to another night of being a lonely, twenty-something virgin, going to bed unsatisfied and unwanted. You sighed, exasperated.
Mr. Jeong was older. You didn’t know much about his wife. It was a sensitive topic for him. And Hana was too young to remember her final moments. He couldn’t possibly want anything to do with you, and instead, you filled your head with unrealistic fantasies to keep yourself up at night and made yourself cum to them. Maybe you wouldn’t be so miserable if you were around more boys your age.
Too tired to continue with your fingers, you shifted to your side and tried to make yourself comfortable. It was 4 in the morning now, which meant you’d only get about 3 hours tonight. Just great, you thought to yourself, waiting for the exhaustion to finally lull you to sleep.
—
You were rather sluggish today, struggling to keep your eyes open as you drove to Mr. Jeong’s house. The cold brew you picked up before heading over there wasn’t much help. Instead, it just made you even more tired. I need to stop jerking off before bed, you told yourself. Luckily, it was Friday, which meant you had enough time to catch up on the lost hours of sleep this weekend.
You sighed as you measured out the detergent to wash Hana’s favorite tutu, the warm and fuzzy smell of fabric softener reminding you of your blanket at home, making you want to sleep even more. Hana got upset this morning before you dropped her off to ballet practice when some syrup from her drive-thru pancakes dripped onto her tutu. To quiet her tantrum, you promised her you’d go back home to wash it so it's nice and clean for her to wear when she comes back, and that you’d also bring her second favorite tutu for practice— a purplish-blue one with pink glitter dusted around it. It didn’t feel right just washing one piece of clothing, so you decided to go upstairs and quickly grab the dirty clothes from Hana and Mr. Jeong’s hampers.
You yawned as you made your way up the stairs, stopping by Hana’s room first. Her room was, as always, a chaotic mess—Barbie dolls and crayons scattered across the floor in colorful disarray, old juice boxes, and snack bags left forgotten on the desk. No matter how many times you tried to teach her the importance of cleaning up after herself, the lesson never seemed to stick. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed the clothes from her hamper and stuffed them into the laundry basket.
Leaving her room, you headed toward Mr. Jeong’s, but froze mid-step as a strange, muffled sound reached your ears from his office. At first, you assumed he was in a meeting, but as you drew closer, the noises grew more alarming—strained and uneven, almost as if he were in pain or… crying?
You gently set the laundry basket down on the floor, carefully tiptoeing toward the door. Pressing your ear against the cold, wooden surface, you strained to make sense of the muffled noises coming from inside. A sharp hiss followed by a low, frustrated “fuck” caught you off guard, making your breath hitch.
Startled, you raised a hand and knocked lightly on the door. “Mr. Jeong?” you called softly. No answer. Concern gnawed at you, and without thinking, you turned the knob. The door creaked as it inched open, the sound slicing through the stillness.
“Mr. Jeong, is everything—” you started, stepping inside.
Mr. Jeong swiveled in his chair, his face frozen in a mask of shock and embarrassment. The two of you stood locked in place as if time itself had come to a standstill. The only sounds in the room were the filthy, lewd moans of a woman coming from his computer. Your gaze dropped instinctively, trailing down his frame until your eyes caught on something in his lower half— his long slender fingers gripping tightly onto his erect cock.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his voice sharp with panic as he scrambled to pull his pants up, hastily stuffing himself back into his waistband. His movements were frantic, his face flushed a deep crimson. “I-I thought you were at the ballet school!”
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, the heat rising so quickly you felt your face must be as red as his. “I-I was,” you stammered, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you tried to steady your voice. “But… Hana’s tutu got dirty, and I… I came back to grab another one…”
The porn video continued playing in the background, the sounds of the ridiculously wet blowjob making the awkwardness even more unbearable.
Mr. Jeong, finally snapping out of his daze, spun back to his computer and fumbled to exit the site, the click of the mouse unnervingly loud in the heavy silence. He turned back to you, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came. His expression was a mixture of shame and desperation, his face still a deep shade of red.
“I’m so sorry,” you blurted out, your voice breathless and shaky as you struggled to compose yourself. The urge to flee was overwhelming. “I-I should get back to Hana. So sorry again!”
Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel and hurried out of the room, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened.
—
You had worried earlier about how you’d make it through the day, feeling so drained and sluggish, but the shock from what happened had jolted you awake like a surge of electricity. Now, a different concern gnawed at you—whether you’d be able to sleep at all tonight. Embarrassment burned through you, and you were sure poor Mr. Jeong wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth after that moment.
Yet, despite yourself, your mind kept racing, replaying the image of his cock. It was so big. It was prettier than the pornstar’s you watch every night. It looked so firm in his hands, the tip flushed pink just like his cheeks. You wondered how it would feel between your legs. Would you even be able to take it? You had dildos in the past, but nothing more than the size of your palm.
“Cash or card?” Hana chirped, her cheerful voice snapping you out of the inappropriate thoughts swirling in your head about her dad.
“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking down at her as she sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor. The living room was a mess, scattered with the colorful pieces of her cashier playset. She pointed at the small plastic credit card in your hand, her expression expectant.
“Oh, uh… I guess card?” you replied, handing it over. You watched as she swiped it through the toy terminal, her little hand expertly mimicking the action.
“Boo beep!” she said with a grin, the sound effects spot-on, before handing you back the card along with a tiny plastic milk carton. “Here you go!”
You couldn’t help but smile, her playful innocence pulling you further from your earlier embarrassment. “Thanks, Hana. Can I have a bag, please?”
“That’s fifty cents extra.”
“Little haggler, aren’t you?” You teased.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, pulling Hana’s attention away from the transaction. “Daddy!” she exclaimed joyfully, rushing toward Mr. Jeong and wrapping her tiny arms around his legs in a tight hug.
“Hey, peanut,” he greeted with a warm smile, scooping her up and planting a quick kiss on her cheek.
“Daddy, I did a pirouette today at practice! Wanna see?”
As Hana spun around, tripping over her own feet a couple of times, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag. You kept your eyes down, moving toward the door with a quiet sigh of relief. For once, you were thankful it wasn’t payday; no need to linger any longer, no forced small talk with Mr. Jeong. He seemed just as relieved as he tried his best to avoid you altogether.
“See you next week, kiddo,” you said, ruffling Hana’s soft hair before heading for the door.
“Wait, Daddy! Can Y/N come to my birthday party tomorrow?”
Mr. Jeong’s smile faltered, replaced by an uncomfortable glance in your direction. “Oh, um, well… why don’t you ask her, sweetie?” he said, quickly deflecting the question back to you.
Hana ran up to you, pressing her small body into your legs and looking up at you with those wide, pleading eyes. “Y/N, can you please please please come to my birthday party? There’s gonna be ice cream cake!”
The urge to say no was strong. You could sense Mr. Jeong’s discomfort, and honestly, you were looking forward to a quiet weekend away from him. But her hopeful gaze, the way her lips stuck out in a small, almost irresistible pout… it was too much to deny.
“Oh, well… I think I have to go somewhere this weekend and…” you started, but then her lower lip began to tremble, and you hated seeing her upset.
You let out a soft sigh, the words slipping out despite yourself. “I, uh, I guess I can come for a little bit.”
“Yay!” Hana cheered, her excitement spilling over as she jumped up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
You exchanged a quiet good night with Mr. Jeong, the awkwardness lingering between you both, before disappearing into the warm summer night. The air was heavy as you made your way to your car, but your mind was racing.
As you sat behind the wheel, you cursed yourself under your breath. You should’ve held your ground, should’ve said no when you had the chance. But now… now you are going to a party with Mr. Jeong. How were you supposed to handle that? How were you supposed to navigate a whole afternoon, trapped in the same space with him, when the last thing you wanted was to face him after walking in on him jerking off earlier?
You huffed as you put your keys in the ignition. This was going to be a long weekend.
—
The next day came quickly, too quickly, and you dreaded the whole affair as you pulled up on the driveway. You showed up about thirty minutes later than the time on the invitation, hoping to blend into the chaos without much fanfare. Sure enough, no one seemed to notice.
The house was buzzing with activity. Little kids, probably Hana’s classmates and friends from ballet, darted around like wild animals, screaming and leaving a trail of toys and crumbs in their wake. You weaved through the commotion, making your way to the table piled high with brightly wrapped presents.
You set down your gift; a doll set Hana had been dreaming about for weeks. Suddenly, you felt a small squeeze at your leg. Looking down, you saw Hana beaming up at you, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug.
“You came!” she squealed, bouncing with excitement.
“Of course I did. Happy birthday!” you said, smiling as you ruffled her hair.
“Come meet my friends!” she insisted, grabbing your hand before you could protest.
Hana dragged you into the backyard, where her friends were splashing in the pool, their parents sitting nearby and watching them like hawks. Hana proudly introduced you to two of her closest friends—“important friends,” as she whispered with a serious nod that made you chuckle.
As you chatted with Hana’s friends, you felt a familiar pull in the corner of your eye. Mr. Jeong stood near the grill, just within your peripheral vision. The moment you glanced in his direction, your heart gave a sharp tug. He was watching you.
Your breath caught, but just before you could process it, you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the childlike conversation in front of you. As you nodded along, a thought crept in—was he still looking at you? The possibility made your skin prickle, a slow heat creeping up your neck, your pulse growing erratic. You fought the urge to glance his way again, but curiosity got the better of you. You glanced up again, a quick and casual move, but this time, he wasn’t looking anymore. He had already turned his attention to another parent, nodding along to whatever they were saying, sipping on his ice cold beer. Still, your skin tingled, like his gaze hadn’t fully left you.
The mix of the screaming children, the sun beating down on you, and the overwhelming energy of the party soon had you retreating. With a quick excuse, you headed for the shaded table, grabbing a Coca-Cola and savoring the brief moment of quiet.
You chugged the fizzy drink, the burn in your throat oddly satisfying as it momentarily cooled you off. As you set the half-empty can down, your ears caught snippets of a hushed conversation from the table next to you. Two women, likely mothers of Hana’s friends, were whispering, and one word made you tune in: Yunho.
“His wife passed away a few years ago, back when Hana was just learning to walk. Poor guy, raising her all on his own.”
“God, but he’s so cute, though,” the other one said, not bothering to lower her voice.
“I know, right? If I didn’t have Leo, I’d totally take him out for a spin.” They dissolved into giggles, clearly enjoying their little moment until their eyes flicked toward you.
You froze, caught mid-sip from your drink. The sudden attention made your cheeks warm as they realized you’d overheard them. One of the women quickly cleared her throat, trying to cover the awkwardness.
“So, which one’s yours?” she asked, her tone friendly, though her shoulders were tense—probably hoping you hadn’t heard the part where she casually considered sleeping with Mr. Jeong.
“Oh, none of them,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “I’m Hana’s babysitter.”
You took another sip of your soda, trying to ignore the way the two women were looking at you. It was obvious they had some kind of assumption about you and Mr. Jeong, and it made your skin prickle with discomfort.
“Oh, I didn’t know Mr. Jeong had a babysitter,” the long-haired woman said, glancing at her friend with a knowing look.
You shifted under their stares, suddenly feeling like you were being sized up. They both looked down at your exposed legs, your flowy skirt just barely covering your knees. You knew what they were thinking. Their curiosity wasn’t just innocent small talk. It felt more like they were trying to figure out if you were a threat. A young, single dad and his younger, pretty babysitter? Sounded like an overdone porn plot.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your fingers anxiously slipped against your soda can, sending the cold, fizzy liquid spilling down the front of your shirt.
“Oh, shit—” You gasped, stepping back as the sticky sweetness seeped into the fabric.
The two women let out little gasps, covering their mouths, but neither of them moved to help.
“Ugh,” you muttered, shaking your hands off. “Excuse me.”
Quickly, you turned and made your way inside, walking past clusters of parents and kids until you reached the staircase. Your face was burning with frustration. This whole weekend was just one embarrassment after another. Everything had felt weird since yesterday. Mr. Jeong had been acting strange, you’d been acting strange, and now you had people assuming things about you that weren’t even true.
You climbed the stairs, the noise of the party fading as you finally reached the bathroom. With a sigh, you pushed the door open and slipped inside, shutting the door behind you.
The cold air from the vent hit your damp shirt, making the fabric cling to your skin uncomfortably. Grimacing, you pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the sink. You turned on the faucet, grabbing a towel to try and clean it before the stickiness set in.
As you rubbed at the stain, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed, your hair slightly messy from the heat outside. You looked… flustered. Not just from the soda incident, but from everything. From him. From the way he was staring at you, from the way you’d been thinking about him all day, despite knowing you shouldn’t. It was no surprise that you couldn’t sleep the night before, your hands stuffed inside your panties all night, forcing yourself to cum over and over as you thought about Mr. Jeong pumping his big hard cock after a long day. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of categories he liked. MILF? Hentai? Gangbang? Did he have a favorite pornstar? You desperately wanted to know what he liked, how he liked it, his greatest desires. But what was the use? You were only driving yourself mad with these little fantasies.
You let out a deep breath, gripping the edge of the sink. Get it together.
Before you could pull yourself back to reality, you were startled by a sudden commotion outside of your door. And before you could even react, the door knob turned and the door creaked open.
Your heart jumped into your throat as Mr. Jeong stepped inside, his eyes focused on something behind him, mid-sentence. “I’ll be right there, just gotta take a leak—”
He stopped. Completely frozen.
His eyes landed on your bare skin, the lacy edge of your bra, the way the damp fabric of your shirt sat crumpled in the sink.
For a second, neither of you moved.
Then, as if snapping out of it, his eyes shot up to yours, and his face turned to that shade of red you’d seen before. “Shit” He spun around so fast he nearly slammed into the wall, and shut the door in front of him.
Your face burned with mortification. You grabbed your shirt, holding it up against your chest even though it was still wet. “What are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, trying to sound indignant, but your voice came out weaker than you wanted.
He ran a hand through his hair, his head still facing the door. “It wasn’t locked! And my friend is outside and—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll go.”
Silence lingered between you. You should’ve told him to hurry up and leave. Should’ve thrown something at him, and scolded him for barging in like that.
But you didn’t.
Instead, your pulse pounded in your ears as you watched the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way the muscle in the side of his jaw tensed. He was still standing there, motionless and breathing a little too hard, like he was trying really, really hard to control himself.
“…Are you gonna go?” you asked, your voice softer now.
Mr. Jeong hesitated, his hand lying still on the doorknob. He let out a shaky breath. “My friend is still out in the hall, maybe, I don’t know, I don’t want him to come in after me and see you. I’m just gonna give it another minute, just to be safe.” He whispered.
The bathroom felt impossibly small like the walls had closed in on you. The silence stretched, almost suffocating, broken only by the soft inhales through his nose and the distant chatter from the party downstairs. The faint drip of the faucet filled the space between you, but neither of you moved, let alone spoke.
It had only been a few seconds—maybe ten, maybe twenty—but it felt like minutes, like an eternity of you two just standing there, backs turned, bodies tense.
You both strained your ears, trying to pick up any signs of his friend lingering outside, but the house was too noisy, too alive with the sound of kids playing and parents chatting. There was no way to tell.
Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he turned his head just enough to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes lowered down to your body, just for a second, before he snapped his head forward again, almost too quickly, like he’d been caught looking.
His throat bobbed. “I think he might be gone,” he murmured. “I don’t hear anything.”
You nodded behind him, staying in place.
He exhaled deeply, his shoulders finally relaxing. “I’m really sorry,” he said, sounding defeated.
“It’s not your fault,” you replied, gripping your damp shirt tighter against your chest. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I should’ve locked the door.”
“Right. Um… thanks,” he said. Then, after a pause, he added, “I also meant about yesterday. I feel so embarrassed. I hope that doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable about working for me. Hana really likes you.”
The mention of yesterday sent a small twist through your stomach. You swallowed. “I’m sorry for that too. I shouldn’t have walked in on you like that.”
He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “I guess we’re both just bad at locking doors. Makes us even.”
A small, nervous laugh slipped out of you, easing some of the tension in the room.
“And you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everyone does it—it’s normal,” you said, trying to reassure him, though you weren’t entirely sure why. Maybe to ease his discomfort. Maybe to ease your own.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh yeah?” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “You jerk off in front of your babysitter too?”
The teasing tone in his voice made your cheeks warm up. But it was the way he turned then, fully facing you, locking his deep brown eyes onto yours, that made the air shift; buzzing with something neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt.
His smirk faded as quickly as it had come as if he suddenly realized how inappropriate his words were. But he didn’t apologize this time. And more importantly—he didn’t leave.
Your stomach twisted into knots again, breath growing heavier, shallower. Fuck. He was so hot. His sharp jawline, so strong and well-defined, tensed ever so slightly. His broad shoulders, so effortlessly commanding, made you feel smaller in the best way. And those eyes—deep, warm brown, always soft when he looked at Hana—weren’t so soft now. They were sharp, locked onto you with an intensity that made your pulse race. Even the faint crinkles near his eyes, the ones that usually appeared when he smiled, seemed more pronounced at this moment, only adding to how devastatingly beautiful he was.
You should have said something. You should have slipped on your cola-stained t-shirt and left the bathroom. But instead, you stood there, heart hammering in your chest, letting the weight of his gaze consume you. You couldn’t leave him. Not yet.
And then, without a second thought, you let your damp t-shirt slip from your fingers, the fabric pooling at your feet.
Mr. Jeong's gaze dropped to your cleavage, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His initial serious expression made your heart flutter with uncertainty. Have you crossed a line? But then, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and when his eyes met yours again, they held a spark that made your heart skip a beat. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice a mixture of sternness and intrigue.
“I just want to help…” you replied softly, stepping closer with careful slowness. Each step brought you nearer until you were close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes locked onto his, filled with intent and a hint of mischief.
With a soft but bold touch, you reached out to cup his clothed cock, feeling its firmness beneath your palm. You applied a teasing pressure, grinding your hand against him. The sudden contact made him draw in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he absorbed the sensation. “You didn’t get to cum last time, did you?” you murmured, your voice a sultry whisper that broke the tense silence between you.
His eyes opened slowly, a mix of desire and astonishment etched on his features. The initial hesitation seemed to melt away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop a moan from escaping. You could feel him hardening in your hand, his pant seam threatening to burst open.
As if all his restraint had snapped, he pressed one hand against the back of your head, fingers burrowing into your hair, while the other slid just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. He slammed his lips onto yours, finally giving in to the wild desire that had been simmering between you all day. Your lips moved messily while he grinded himself against your hand. “Fuck, you’re fucking crazy,” he said breathlessly into your lips, “And no, I didn’t, but I did think about creaming on your face before bed last night.”
You could already feel a wetness pooling between your legs, his words being the boost you so desperately needed to move forward. You kept kissing him hungrily while undoing his fly, his half-hard cock springing out in anticipation. You took him into your hand, your fingers barely meeting as you gripped around him, stroking him gently while he cursed into your mouth.
Mr. Jeong pulled away and spun you around in one swift move, pressing your body against his chest and trapping you in his embrace. Your hand remained obedient and eager, pumping his cock as his big hands roamed your body. One hand squeezed your breast, while the other slipped underneath your skirt. “Wore this skimpy little thing on purpose, didn’t you?” His words cascaded down your neck, “Little slut.”
You moaned softly as his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit, your sticky wet juices leaking through the fabric. Mr. Jeong gathered the front of your panties together and pulled with a force that made you gasp. The fabric wedged against your throbbing pussy, leaving you whimpering as you bucked your hips against the friction.
“Your so fucking wet, Y/N…” He teased, his lips pressed against your ears, sending a rush of butterflies in your stomach. “You liked what you saw yesterday, didn’t you? Couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you? Bet you came in on purpose, hmm? Heard what I was doing and wanted to help me cum?”
A deep, throaty moan escaped your lips. You loved the way he was talking to you, the way he reduced you to a horndog little pervert, and deep down, you knew it was true. You were addicted to the thrill of it all. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I wanna be your good girl, your slut. Wanna help you cum sir, please. Want your hot load on me. Please, sir, I need it.” Your words were an invitation, a desperate plea for the intense pleasure you’ve craved for so long, and you knew he couldn't resist.
Mr. Jeong shifted from behind you and you felt the warmth of his cock, a tantalizing tap against your cunt, which forced an excited yelp from your lips. His hand covered your mouth, a gentle yet firm reminder to keep quiet. “Don’t want anyone hearing us, do we baby?”
His cock was sandwiched between your sopping-wet folds and the tight fabric of your panties. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but grind your hot, eager pussy over his length. Your back rested against his chest, and you could feel his heart pounding in sync with your racing pulse. The fabric of your panties provided delicious friction, and you moaned softly into his hand, the sound muffled but still carrying the weight of your satisfaction.
You pressed your thighs together, squeezing his cock as you rode him, the sensation being too much for the both of you. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum too soon,” He panted, his head falling forward and burying into your shoulder.
You grew restless, your grinding becoming faster and wild, the sounds of your quiet and desperate begging like music to his ears. “Please, sir, cum in my panties, I’ll be so good,” You pleaded with tears of pleasure streaking down your cheeks. The thought of walking around in his cum-soaked panties gave you a thrill. You could feel your clit pulsing as you rutted against his shaft, the sheer bliss of it beyond anything you’d ever experienced. “I’m gonna cum, sir, please…oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
As your orgasm subsided, his cock still pressed against your swollen clit. You felt a numbness, a euphoric high that left you floating, your wetness a warm, inviting contrast to his hot, throbbing length. Shivers ran down your spine, and you felt like you were hovering, your consciousness detached from your body.
Mr. Jeong lifted you in his strong arms, carrying you like fragile glass. He brought you to the bathroom mirror, and as he held you up, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight of his length against your body. It was almost surreal, the difference in scale, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He snaked a hand around your waist, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your wet, glistening cunt to the cool air. You shivered, feeling a rush of vulnerability. He slapped his cock against your wet cunt, grinning, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“What are you doing, sir?” you asked shyly, your voice soft and hesitant. You had never experienced this position before, and the sight of your legs spread wide and your cunt so open and exposed made you nervous. Mr. Jeong's hands grasped under your thighs, supporting your weight, and you could feel his strength and his muscles bulging as he held you up. “I wanna see this little pussy take my big cock,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. “Wanna watch it stretch and take me deep.”
You gulped, your heart racing in your chest. You had never taken something this big before, and Mr. Jeong was indeed impressive. The thought of being stretched, of accommodating to his size, both excited and intimidated you. You wanted to tell him about your virginity, but the words caught in your throat. You didn't want to turn him off, and so you remained silent, your mind racing with a mix of emotions.
Noticing your worried glance reflected in the mirror, Mr. Jeong's eyes narrowed, a hint of disappointment creasing his features. “What's wrong, baby? You wanna stop?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“No,” you said quietly before reaching down to grasp his cock. With a firm grip, you began to work him up and down, the weight of his hard length in your hands making your pussy twitch. You pushed his cock against your entrance, the head pressing against your tight, virgin opening. “Please, sir,” you begged, your voice pathetically dry. “I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you stretching me, filling me up. Wanna be good for you.”
The thought of giving up your virginity to him was both scary and exhilarating. You wanted to be his, to belong to him in the most intimate way possible. You pumped him desperately, your core aching to have him stuffed deep inside you.
The head of his cock pressed against your tight opening, and you could feel the stretch, the burning sensation of being filled for the very first time. A sob escaped your lips as Mr. Jeong slowly lowered you over his cock, the mirror reflecting it all. You watched in awe as his hot, throbbing rod disappeared inside your body, the sight of it stretching you, filling you, almost too much to bear.
“Fuck, you're so tight,” he grunted, his eyes wide with a mix of pleasure and awe. The sensation of being filled by his impressive size was intense, and you were intoxicated by a mixture of pain and bliss, the feeling making your mind numb. He was incredibly gentle at first, pushing just the tip of his cock into your walls, treating you with the utmost care. But as tension built within him, his eyes grew darker, a fierce lust taking over. With a sudden, primal urge, he began working you over his cock, pulling you up and down, your tight pussy gripping his length. You felt incredible to him, like a fleshlight come to life, and even he struggled to mask his moans as your body adjusted to his size.
The pain was fleeting, replaced by a deep, satisfying pleasure. “Oh god, sir” you whispered, your voice strained. “It feels so good. So full... Please, don't stop.” Your sweet pleas made his ears buzz, his stomach fluttering from just how sweetly you begged for more of him.
“God, you’re doing so good for me,” He praised, almost giddy with how effortlessly you fit him. His eyes never left the mirror, his thick bulge disappearing into your tight, wet pussy, a sight too mesmerizing to look away from. “Such a good girl…look so pretty on my cock” He huffed, “My little cumslut.”
His words sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you felt your pussy clench around him in response. You wanted him to keep talking dirty to you, to fill your ears with every filthy word and fantasy he had while pounding into you.
Mr. Jeong grew tired, and he placed you back on the ground, pushing your body down against the sink, the cold marble against your bare stomach sending a chill down your spine. He lifted your skirt, rubbing himself against your puffy pussy lips, the overstimulation driving you wild. You felt his cock, thick and hard, lining up with your hole, and you knew what was coming. Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he pushed into you in one swift, powerful motion, filling you up completely. He stilled his hips, giving your pussy a chance to adjust to his size, to wrap itself around him, to pulsate and invite him deeper. You were stuffed, every inch of your pussy filled with his cock, his balls swinging and slapping against your raw skin with each thrust.
With each snap of his hips, you cursed under your breath, your fingers gripping tightly to the sink as if it were your only anchor in this storm. "S-so big!" you yelped, your voice filled with a mix of awe and fear. Your body was now completely at the mercy of Mr. Jeong, his powerful strokes sending waves of pleasure and pain through your sensitive pussy.
As he continued to thrust into you, he brought one hand up, pressing his fingers against your mouth, effectively silencing your moans. "Gotta do something about that mouth, baby," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. His fingers, still wet with your juices from before, found their way into your mouth, and you gladly accepted them, your lips closing around his digits. You moaned deeply, your tongue wrapping around his fingers, tasting yourself on them. You lost yourself in his touch, his hard cock massaging your gummy walls, his fingers probing and exploring your warm mouth, his lips licking and sucking your ear lobe as he whispered filth to you, bringing you to the brink of another orgasm.
As your eyes met your reflection in the mirror, you were struck by a sense of unfamiliarity. Your makeup was smudged and running, the black mascara staining your tears and streaking down your cheeks. Your hair was frizzy and chaotic, some sweat-drenched strands framing your face and sticking to your warm cheeks. Your lips looked wet and swollen as you gagged around Mr. Jeong’s long fingers, the saliva dripping down your chin. You loved it. You looked like a woman who had been pleasured beyond measure. There was an intoxicating power in seeing yourself like this, a power that made you feel alive and desirable. It reminded you of the pornstar Mr. Jeong was watching yesterday, her fucked-out expression now mirroring your own.
"Oh god, sir, it's too much!" you moaned, pulling his fingers out from your mouth. "I can't take it! I'm gonna cum again!"
“Fuck, me too,” He grunted as he pulled out of you, feeling the inevitable approach of his own release. Relief washed over you, your body weakening, your walls clenching and spasming around nothing. Mr. Jeong spun you around, placing a hand on the top of your head, pushing you to your knees just as your body swayed with the first waves of your climax.
As Mr. Jeong jerked himself off with his hand, his eyes never left your face, now a beautiful canvas covered in the ropes of his hot cum. Though still reeling from the intense orgasm he had just given you, you opened your mouth wide, obediently accepting his thick, white cum as it splashed over your tongue. The taste was both bitter and sour, but you loved it, a unique flavor that was all his.
You licked your lips, moaning softly as you savored his taste. You kissed his tender tip, running your tongue over his slit, relishing the feeling of his cum leaking out, warm and sticky.
With a playful smile, Mr. Jeong rubbed his tip against your lips, leaving a trail of cum as he did so. "Shit, baby, you look so pretty with my cum on your face," he said, his voice shaky with post-orgasmic delight. "My sweet little cumslut."
Taking him into your mouth once more, you swirled your tongue around his sensitive head, moaning from the taste and texture of his cum. You pulled off with a plopping sound, a satisfied smile on your face. "Taste so good, sir," you whispered, your voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "Thank you for letting me taste your cum.”
Mr. Jeong, clearly pleased with your gratitude, ran his fingers through your hair affectionately, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, there was a hard knock on the door, snapping you both out of your little daze.
“Yo, Yunho,” a voice called from the door. “Are you taking a shit? How much longer are you gonna be? Hana’s ready to cut the cake.”
Mr. Jeong flinched, his hands moving fast as he pulled his bottoms up, stuffing himself back inside like a guilty teenager caught red-handed. “Uh, just a minute! I’ll be right out!” he called back, voice strained.
The man sighed. “Alright, well, hurry up. The cake’s melting out here.”
You both snapped into action, scrambling to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. The rush of reality crashing back down made your heart pound even harder than before. Just as you were ready to bolt, Yunho suddenly froze, his expression shifting once he realized the mess he left on your face was still dripping down your cheeks.
Then, without a word, he grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and gently wiped the sticky white jelly from your flushed face. “Sorry,” he murmured, his fingers barely grazing your skin, his eyes burning with the same embarrassed, heated look from before.
Once you were clean, he lingered for a second too long, standing so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He parted his mouth as if to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Instead, his fingers anxiously tapped against his thigh, a nervous habit you had never noticed before.
“You should go first,” you said quickly, sensing the weight of the moment. “I’ll come down after.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then he nodded. “Thanks,” he muttered, stuffing his shirt back into his waistband before slipping out the door with hurried, uneven steps.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and sank onto the toilet seat. The room still smelled faintly of him, and it felt unreal how fast the energy had shifted. Had he just been hit with regret? Was he now scrambling to shove this whole thing into a locked box in his mind? Now no longer in the heat of the moment, did he think what you two did was wrong? Were you going to get fired?
For the rest of the party, Mr. Jeong successfully avoided you. He busied himself slicing tiny squares of cake for the kids, nodding along to endless small talk with the other parents as if nothing had happened.
You took the hint, feeling a slight shame in your chest.
Slipping out early, you gave Hana a tight hug before heading back to your car. The second you settled into your seat, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a sigh, you pulled it out, expecting something mundane.
But when you read the message, you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.
Jeong Yunho: See you Monday ;)
—
Your sleep schedule had indeed improved, and you found yourself no longer relying on toys to satisfy your desires. The structure and routine of your new life, with Hana and Mr. Jeong, had brought a sense of balance and fulfillment. You enjoyed the daily interactions with Hana, whether it was playing frisbee in the backyard or teaching her simple math in her room. Your bond with her grew stronger each day, and you found great joy in being a positive influence in her life.
However, it was the Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays that held a special place in your heart. These were the days when you dropped Hana off at her ballet recitals, and while she was practicing her pliés and pirouettes, you would return to their home to tend to your other job.
Your knees were growing sore from scraping against the carpet under Yunho’s desktop table. Sounds of girls moaning emanated from his monitor. Though you were curious about what he was watching, you knew it was none of your business. Instead, you focused on the task at hand and wrapped your warm mouth over his throbbing cock, nestling yourself between his legs from under his desk. The width of his bulge filled your throat, and you gagged lightly, a sign of your complete submission to him.
Yunho, lost in the porno he was watching, seemed momentarily unaware of your presence. He was engrossed in the images on his screen, his eyes droopy and his breathing heavy. Your mouth bobbed up and down, your lips wrapping tightly around his shaft, and you could feel his excitement building. The sound of his moans mixed with the pornographic sounds on his computer made you clench around nothing, forcing you to slip your hand past your waistband.
As you continued to suck him, you could feel his hands running through your hair, gently guiding your movements. You massaged his warm balls with your free hand, feeling his cum bubbling up in his sack, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he released his load into your waiting mouth.
"That's it, baby," Yunho whispered, his voice soft yet dominant. “Keep that pretty mouth on me. So good…so, so good for me.”
I would greatly appreciate reblogs with comments and replies. please consider leaving feedback if you enjoyed this x.
» summary: jake was stuck. sex had gotten boring, always the same routine, nothing exciting enough to stick in his head. he wasn’t exactly searching for something new, but when a stupid bdsm test came up in conversation with you, he found himself way too curious. suddenly, he’s researching kinks at 3am, making reddit posts like an idiot, and realizing that maybe he doesn’t just want answers, he wants to try them with you. and maybe all he wants right now is ask: i don’t wanna be just friends, don’t wanna be away from you, can i be a pet?
✰ pairing: jake x fem!reader // ✰ genre: smut (mdni!!), friends to lovers, college au, slowburn-ish #nowplaying » cat & dog - tomorrow x together | mutt - leon thomas | wet dreamz - j. cole | doo wop (that thing) - lauryn hill | mrs. officer - lil wayne | so fresh, so clean - outkast | word count: 28k
!! warnings: smut (mdni), smut, unprotected sex (do not do it!!), petplay, brat!reader x brat tamer!jake, power dynamics, bdsm dynamics, alcohol and weed consumption, anal play, oral sex (m and f receiving), size kink, fingering, squirting, degradation and praising kink, dirty talk, rough sex, bitch the whole thing they are freaky lmao
JAKE SIM HAD THIS REPUTATION AROUND CAMPUS, AND HE KNEW IT. he wasn’t the type to deny it either, he kind of leaned into it. he had the face, he had the charm, the easy smile that worked on almost anyone, and he was well aware that people liked talking about him. he wasn’t shy about the fact that he hooked up with a lot of girls, not in a bragging way, more like he genuinely didn’t see the point of pretending otherwise. if he wanted something, he went for it, and most of the time he got it.
the funny part was that it never really felt like enough. people would assume he was satisfied, like he had it all figured out, but the truth was, after a while, it all started blending together. same kind of nights, same routines, same conversations that ended in the same place. he liked it in the moment, of course, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he always went home with this weird feeling, like something was missing, and it wasn’t the whole “looking for love” thing either. it was more that he wanted something different, something he couldn’t even name yet.
he wasn’t the type to sit around and analyze himself too much, but he noticed the pattern. no matter how many people he fucked, he’d end up lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking, is that really it?
he didn’t talk about it with anyone, because what was he supposed to say? “yeah i’m sleeping with half the campus but i’m still kind of bored”? that would sound ridiculous. and you knew him enough to know the image he carried, everyone did, but what people didn’t really see was that restless part of him, the part that kept looking for something he couldn’t find. and he hated admitting it, but lately he started realizing that maybe the problem wasn’t the girls or the sex itself, maybe the problem was that he wanted to try things he didn’t even know how to explain without sounding insane.
“you ever feel like… sex is just the same shit over and over?” jake asked, not even looking directly at sunghoon while the fifa match rolled on his tv.
sunghoon paused the game immediately, which already said a lot, because sunghoon never paused fifa for anything. he turned to look at jake dead in the eye. “what the fuck are you talking about?”
“i’m serious,” jake said, sighing. “like, yeah, it’s good, but sometimes i’m just… i don’t know, bored.”
sunghoon started laughing so hard he almost dropped the controller. “you? bored? mr. i-had-sex-in-the-theater-bathroom last week? nah. shut the fuck up.”
“that’s exactly what i mean!” jake argued, leaning forward. “it’s always the same shit. hook up, make out, fuck, pass out. repeat. i’m telling you, i feel like there’s supposed to be more, but i don’t know what the hell that is.”
“okay,” sunghoon said, nodding like he was being thoughtful, but his grin gave him away. “so what you’re saying is… your dick’s tired.”
“that’s not what i said.”
“sounds like what you said.”
before jake could fire back, the door creaked open and heeseung walked in with a bag of chips and a joint between his fingers, looking like he hadn’t slept in two days. he glanced at the tv, took a drag, then looked at them. “you guys talking about gooning?”
“kinda,” sunghoon answered instantly, pointing at jake. “apparently mr. campus heartthrob is bored of pussy.”
heeseung raised an eyebrow, ripped open the chips, and sat down on the armrest. “wow. should we throw you a funeral?”
jake groaned and buried his face in his hands. “you guys are fucking useless.”
“nah, bro, i’m serious,” sunghoon said, nudging him with his foot. “maybe you just need some freaky shit. like, tie someone up, put on a costume, bark a little. switch it up.”
“the fuck are you even saying?” jake shot back, but the way his ears went red didn’t go unnoticed.
heeseung caught it instantly, grinning like a devil. “wait. wait. oh my god. jake wants to bark.”
“shut the fuck up,” jake muttered, ending the conversation.
but the thing is, jake thought sometimes about barking. i mean, not literally standing in someone’s room on all fours going woof, but the thought of something that wasn’t just the usual sex crossed his mind more than once. like, there had to be people out there doing shit that wasn’t just missionary or whatever. he wasn’t about to admit it out loud to sunghoon or heeseung because he knew they’d never let it go, but after that night, the whole “maybe you need to bark” thing kept replaying in his head. and he didn’t immediately shut it down. he laughed in front of them, told them they were idiots, but later that week, lying in bed at two a.m., he actually caught himself googling “unconventional sex stuff.”
that’s how he ended up on reddit. it wasn’t even intentional, he just clicked link after link until suddenly he was in some forum full of people talking about kinks like they were trading recipes. half the stuff freaked him out, the other half made him curious in a way he didn’t know how to process. he didn’t think he was a freak, but then again, maybe he was, because none of this was coming up in regular conversations, and he clearly couldn’t bring it up to his friends without being clowned for the rest of his life.
so one night, after reading through threads for way too long, he gave in and made a throwaway account.
r/TooAfraidToAsk
u/australianlebron127 | 12m
i feel like i’m bored of sex but don’t know what i’m looking for, is that normal?
i’m a 23 year old male and i’ve been pretty active since like freshman year of college. i’ve hooked up with a lot of people, and i guess on the outside it sounds cool, but honestly it all feels the same and i keep thinking i’m missing something. my friends make jokes about “freaky stuff” and once someone even said i probably just need to bark or whatever, which was stupid, but now i can’t stop thinking maybe i actually do need something like that.
i don’t even know what i’m into, i just know regular sex feels kind of… repetitive. i’m not in a relationship and i’m not looking for love advice or anything like that, i’m just wondering if it’s normal to feel like this or if i should be trying to figure out what i like more. and if i should… how do you even start? like i can’t just ask someone “hey wanna let me experiment with you” right? idk.
after he posted it, jake shut his laptop like he just confessed a crime. he honestly thought no one would even read it, but the next morning when he checked again, there were already a bunch of replies. some of them were just people trolling him, like one guy wrote “bro just buy a dildo and stop crying,” which didn’t help at all, but there were also some longer comments from people who actually sounded like they knew what they were talking about.
one person wrote something like, “you don’t have to know your kink right away, just pay attention to what sticks in your head. if something makes you curious, that’s worth exploring.” another person said, “try to communicate with partners, you’d be surprised how many people are also bored of ‘regular’ sex and want to experiment too.” and then there was one comment that just said, “maybe you’re into power dynamics. look into dom/sub stuff, that’s usually a good starting point.”
jake read through all of them with his face buried in his pillow, feeling like if anyone walked in and saw what he was doing, he’d have to transfer schools immediately. but at the same time, it made him feel a little less crazy. apparently, other people were going through the same thing, or at least close enough. he wasn’t the only one who felt like sex got repetitive after a while. still, he didn’t know what to do with that information. he wasn’t about to sit sunghoon down and say, “hey bro, what do you think my kink is?” and he sure as hell wasn’t going to test this out with some random hookup from a party. if he was going to try anything new, he wanted it to be with someone who actually knew him, someone he trusted not to laugh in his face.
and that’s when he remembered you.
he met you through jungwon and sunoo. you were always around, more like part of the background of the friend group. jake thought you were cool, funny without trying too hard, and yeah, obviously really hot, but he never made a move because you weren’t like the other girls he usually talked to at parties. you didn’t even go to half the parties. when he did see you, you were usually laughing with your friends, completely unbothered by whatever was going on around. you never hooked up, never even flirted, but there was this one time that stuck with him.
he was walking past in the middle of a random conversation between you and sunoo, and he caught enough of it to never forget. you were holding your phone, laughing so hard, and you went, “who the fuck gets a hundred percent vanilla on the bdsm test? you have to try to be that boring.”
sunoo immediately grabbed the phone from you, yelling, “shut up! you literally got ninety-six percent petplay, you freak! what are you even talking about?”
jake didn’t even know what to do with that information at the time, but he remembered the way you just laughed and shrugged, like it was nothing. he laughed too, mostly because sunoo looked like he was about to pass out from embarrassment, but the conversation burned into his brain. now, weeks later, lying in bed after scrolling through way too many reddit threads about kinks, that memory hit him again, like his brain suddenly pulled out a file he didn’t realize he kept. and you sounded so comfortable with it, like talking about sex wasn’t this big taboo topic.
jake thought about it more than once after that, and now, with all this restless energy in his head, it started to feel like a sign. maybe you weren’t close, maybe you weren’t the person he texted at two in the morning, but you were the only person he could think of who might not laugh in his face if he admitted he was… curious. so he picked up his phone, scrolled through his contacts until he found your name, and stared at it for a solid minute like the letters might rearrange themselves into “don’t do this.” then, because he was jake, he typed something dumb and hit send before he could overthink it.
jake: yo do u know if the cafeteria is still selling those massive cookies or did they stop
you didn’t answer right away, which made him instantly regret his entire life, but then the screen lit up.
you: why are you texting me about cookies at 11pm
you: and yes they still sell them lol
he grinned, already feeling lighter.
jake: good to know
jake: important info
there was a pause, and then you sent back:
you: you’re so weird sometimes
he laughed out loud at that. it was stupid, but it gave him enough courage to type what he really wanted.
jake: hey random question tho
jake: u remember that bdsm test thing u joked about w sunoo once
jake: do u still have the link perchance
he stared at the message after sending it, suddenly way too aware of how insane it looked. but it was too late, it was out there. his brain was screaming at him that this was either the best idea he ever had or the dumbest one, and he wouldn’t know which until you answered, but your reply came quicker than he expected.
you: LMAO jake why are u asking me this
you: are u abt to send me ur result rn bc i wanna see
you: don’t lie i KNOW ur not 100% vanilla
you dropped the link right after, and jake felt his stomach twist because now he had no excuse. he clicked it. the layout looked ancient, like a quiz someone coded in 2005, but it was apparently the same test everyone online swore by.
he started reading the questions, and it was instantly ridiculous. stuff like “would you enjoy being tied up?” or “would you enjoy tying someone else up?” and the scale went from “absolutely not” to “hell yes.” jake sat there, thinking way harder than he expected. some of them were easy to answer—no, he didn’t want to be whipped until he couldn’t walk—but others made him hesitate, like maybe he’d try it, maybe it didn’t sound that bad.
when the petplay questions showed up, he froze for a second. he could practically hear sunghoon in his head going “bro, bark,” and it made him want to close the tab, but at the same time… he didn’t click “absolutely not.” he thought about it, sighed, and picked “maybe.”
twenty minutes later, the results loaded on his screen in neat little percentages, like it was about to diagnose him with something.
jake stared at the screen. part of him wanted to laugh, part of him wanted to throw his phone out the window, and another part of him just thought: yeah, that actually makes sense. he sat there, debating whether sending it to you would make him look confident or like the biggest clown alive. but you had asked to see it, and he kind of did want to know what you’d say. so he did send you the screenshots, three images of his percentages sitting in your chat, and you answered almost instantly.
you: LMAOOO
you: okay i expected switch 100% bc u give off that vibe
you: but 94% pet?? never in my life would i have guessed that
jake felt his ears burn. he didn’t even know what that was supposed to mean, but the way you typed it made him smile anyway.
jake: bro don’t act like u weren’t the one clowning sunoo abt this shit
you: yeah but i didn’t expect u to be secretly into meowing
jake: i didn’t say i’m into that
you: mhmmm the math says otherwise jakey
he groaned and threw his phone onto his pillow, but then picked it right back up. he wanted to defend himself, but at the same time, it felt good that you weren’t making it weird. you were teasing him, yeah, but it was soft, like the way you’d tease a friend. even though jake didn’t know if friend was the right word.
jake: alright then, where’s urs
you: oh i’m not sending mine
jake: tf why not
you: bc it’s funnier to let u wonder
jake: wtf does that mean
you: it means one day maybe i’ll show u in person idk
jake stared at that message for a solid minute. in person? what do you mean “in person”? he had no idea if you were flirting, being sarcastic, or just messing with him for fun. either way, the thought lodged itself in his brain immediately and refused to leave. he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that, but his brain decided to run off with it anyway. like maybe, hypothetically, if one day you actually did drop to your knees in front of him and said “meow,” he wouldn’t hate it. actually, he might really, really not hate it.
so that week jake couldn’t stop thinking about it. so naturally, at three in the morning when any normal person would be asleep, he was hunched over his laptop, typing “what is petplay kink” into google like some dad learning how to use tiktok.
the first page of results didn’t help much. there were a bunch of articles that tried to sound educational but were really just people overexplaining, and then there were forums with way too many details he wasn’t ready for. he clicked through anyway, and five minutes later he was learning that apparently some people actually bought collars for this stuff, and leashes, and there was a whole thing about drinking water from bowls. he sat back in his chair, “no way,” he muttered to himself. “there’s no way i’m buying a dog bowl.” but then another part of him was like… okay, maybe not the bowl, but the collar thing? that didn’t sound as insane.
he kept scrolling. one post talked about how petplay wasn’t always about barking or crawling around, sometimes it was just about roles, like playfulness, obedience, teasing. that part made more sense to him. then he fell into another rabbit hole, this time about “brat taming.” apparently it meant dealing with someone who liked to push back, tease, talk back until you had to put them in their place. jake read three different threads about it and had to close the tab because, yeah, he was definitely into that.
he shut his laptop after an hour of scrolling, face buried in his hands, because what the hell was he even doing? one week ago he was just another guy with too much free time, and now he was sitting there seriously wondering if buying a collar off amazon would be insane or just a solid investment. and the kicker was, every time he thought about it, your face showed up in his head.
so when he saw you for the first time after that, he felt something weird going on around his pants. and jake wasn’t a fucking teen anymore, he wasn’t gonna get hard just by looking at a girl, but somehow he was… semi hard. it had been a long time since that happened out of nowhere and he thought it was kind of strange, like his body was reminding him of things he hadn’t thought about in months.
you looked up from your laptop, saw him, and smiled. that smile — bright, easy — made him immediately forget that anything felt weird. you waved, and jake had to remind himself to actually walk toward you instead of standing there like a moron.
“hey!” you called, motioning him over. “come sit.” you were sitting at a table with jungwon and sunoo, laptop open in front of you. jungwon was typing something, sunoo was scrolling on his phone, “so… did you get the giant cookie from the cafeteria or what?” you asked, a playful grin on your face.
jake internally thanked you, harder than he wanted to admit, for not bringing up the test. one, because he would have died of embarrassment with jungwon and sunoo there, and two, because honestly, thinking about it again might have made him get hard all over again in the middle of the library cafe. “uh… no, not yet,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and not make it sound like his entire body was having a meeting about you.
“oh, okay,” you said, opening your laptop wider. “we can grab some after i finish this thing.”
he slid into the chair next to you, careful not to get too close, careful not to breathe like he was dying, and just tried to act like a normal human. which, for jake, was hard work when you were smiling at him like that.
after a while, you both got up and headed to the cafeteria. he was quieter, more reserved, but trying to respond, trying to interact without sounding like he was hyperventilating. by the time you got to the display with all the cookies, it was just the two of you. jake tried to act casual while his brain reminded him that he was, somehow, still semi hard and that his body was apparently having its own agenda today. he felt like a complete freak but the thought made him laugh at himself.
“so… chocolate cookie?” you asked, eyes sparkling, and then paused dramatically. “or are you gonna switch to vanilla?” you emphasized the word switch, looking at him like you knew exactly what you were doing.
jake couldn’t help it. he laughed out loud. “oh, okay, i see what you’re doing,” he said, shaking his head. it was ridiculous, and he felt ridiculous, but in a way that made him feel… funny.
“what? i’m just trying to make cookie decisions fun,” you said, smirking, clearly loving that you got a reaction out of him.
“yeah yeah, sure,” he replied, and then couldn’t resist pushing a little. “sooo… you said you were gonna show me your result personally, remember?”
you tilted your head, mock-serious. “wow, curious, aren’t you?”
he felt his face heat up, part embarrassment, part horniness, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how casual you were about all this. am i really getting turned on by a conversation about cookies and some quiz? he thought, mentally cursing himself, and then laughed a little because, yeah, apparently he was. “i mean… i’m not curious,” he said, though he was. “i just… maybe want to see it. for science.”
“mhmm, for science,” you repeated, grinning, clearly reading right through him. you sat down at a table after paying for the cookies, you opened your laptop casually, and started scrolling through your results. “alright, so… brace yourself,” you said, smiling at him, “here.” jake leaned a little closer, trying not to stare too obviously at your face and also trying not to think about other… possibilities.
jake blinked a few times, and his brain immediately went to the oh shit this is hot mode. he felt his stomach tighten and had to consciously remind himself to breathe. he tried not to picture too much, trying not to lose it right there in front of you. after a beat, he swallowed and forced his voice casual. “yeah… i mean… i kinda imagined your result being something like this.”
you raised an eyebrow, grinning like you knew exactly what he was thinking. “ahh, so you were thinking about my results, huh?”
jake felt his face heat up instantly, but he couldn’t help laughing a little. “shut up…” he said after you teased, clearly enjoying the fact that he was squirming just a bit.
“never thought you’d be into petplay,” you said casually, glancing at him.
“me neither,” he admitted, a little embarrassed. “i’ve never actually done it.”
“oh really?” you teased. “but it’s on your test.”
“yeah… i’m just… assuming i’d like it,” he said, shrugging. “never explored my kinks before. that’s why i did the test.”
you smiled at him, eyes soft. “honestly, i get it. it’s fine. makes sense.”
for some reason, hearing you say that made him feel comfortable, thinking how nice it was to have someone he could actually talk to about it. you kept talking about the results, scrolling through different percentages, laughing at some of the weirder ones, shaking your heads at others, like “who the hell is this person” kind of stuff. jake felt like he could actually breathe a little easier, like maybe exploring this shit didn’t have to be some big awkward thing.
and then he caught himself thinking about it — again, for the hundredth time — that maybe having you actually… participate in some of it wouldn’t be that bad. like, actually being there while you did the petplay stuff or teased him, whatever. and the thought hit him in a weird way that made him grin like a complete idiot, because yeah, it was exciting, and yeah, he could feel that familiar tightness in his pants again.
so after that, jake found himself doing more research about things you might like. he didn’t even know why he was looking this stuff up. he told himself it was curiosity, like he was just trying to understand a phenomenon or something, but deep down he knew it was more than that.
he was intrigued by the kinks, by the way you’d come across as so… private. he’d never seen you with anyone, never heard stories about your experiences, and somehow that made him hornier and more curious at the same time. the weirdest part was that he felt like he knew a lot about you because of that damn bdsm test, but also realized he didn’t know shit—whereas you probably knew tons of stories about him and his past hookups.
eventually he went back to reddit. of course he did. he found a server for kinks and typed out a post, hesitating over every word, trying not to make himself sound like a total weirdo.
r/kink_advice
u/australianlebron127 | 3m
how do i talk to a friend about mutual kinks?
hi, i’m a 23m and i have this friend (24f), she’s cool, funny, super private, and i think maybe we like the same kinks. we’ve talked a little about bdsm stuff and she shared her results on this bdsm test once, which were very similar to mine. i’m curious and want to maybe explore things with her, but i have no idea how to even bring it up without making it weird. any advice?
the replies came fast. some were generic, like “just be honest and communicate,” or “don’t push anything she’s not into.” but then one comment made him stop scrolling for a second.
comment: if she’s into petplay or praising kink, just call her a good girl out of nowhere and see how she reacts, or tell her to behave.
jake stared at that comment for longer than he should have. he couldn’t believe that the solution was potentially so simple, and also so terrifying. he wasn’t sure if it was genius or completely insane.
so he thought about putting the plan into practice that weekend, at the frat party. he already knew you’d be there because you’d mentioned jungwon and chaewon had been bugging you to go, and for jake, that sounded like the perfect opportunity. when he got to the house, sunghoon shoved a drink into his hand before he could even say hi, and riki was already trying to drag him outside to smoke a joint. jake brushed both of them off with a laugh, sipping the drink just to keep sunghoon from nagging, and then he saw you.
you were across the room, leaning against the counter with chaewon, laughing about something. you weren’t dressed overly flashy, nothing insane, just jeans and a cropped tank top that showed a sliver of skin when you moved, and your hair pulled back like you didn’t even try that hard. but for some reason, to jake, it looked better than half the girls in glitter dresses floating around the place.
he felt his stomach tighten in that same way it had the other day, and he had to stop himself from grinning too obviously. you had this golden retriever kind of energy, the kind of person who always smiled when someone waved, always asked how people were doing, and jake had that too, except his version usually came with flirting and ending up in someone’s bed.
he could feel the stares of other girls in the room, some who he’d already hooked up with, some who he knew wanted to. he caught one or two smiling at him, making the kind of eye contact that usually meant come over here later, and he knew he could. he could pick almost anyone in the room if he wanted. but for once, he wasn’t interested. the whole point tonight was you.
jake took another sip of his drink and pushed through the crowd, his eyes flicking back to you every other second. he was hyping himself up in his head, thinking about that stupid reddit comment and whether he was actually crazy enough to try it out. every step closer to you, the thought kept repeating in his head: good girl. just say it once. see what happens.
so he walked up to you, slid into that little circle, and went, “hey,” giving you and chaewon a nod. you both greeted him back, chaewon with her usual dry smile and you with that bright one that always made him feel like you were actually happy to see him, even if it was just a quick hello at a loud party.
the conversation was easy, just small talk but not awkward. eventually chaewon excused herself to get a drink, and right then minjeong walked past. she gave jake a quick once over and stopped long enough to rest her hand on his shoulder, leaning in with a smile that was way too obvious. “jake, later come find me, okay?” she said in that flirty tone that didn’t leave much room for interpretation. he just gave a small nod, polite enough but already knowing he wasn’t going to.
when she walked off, you tilted your head and started laughing under your breath. “wow,” you said, dragging the word out, “how many girls here have you hooked up with?”
jake immediately shook his head, pressing his lips together like he was trying not to laugh. “not that many,” he said, though even he knew it sounded weak.
you raised your brows, clearly amused. “and none of them made you wanna… what was it again? meow?” you asked, grinning at him like you were way too proud of yourself for remembering.
he froze for a second, caught completely off guard, before he tried to play it cool. “you’re not letting that go, huh?” he leaned in a little, lowering his voice like it might soften the blow of how flustered he actually was. “but, i mean, maybe it’s because none of them knew how to behave like you, i think.”
he said it half teasing, half testing, and his smile was trying to cover the way his heart was picking up. you squinted at him, amused but confused, and went, “what do you mean behave like me?”
jake didn’t even hesitate. “uh, it was in your test. brat, sub, pet, you know what i’m talking about.”
you let out this little laugh, shaking your head. “ok, that’s in my test, but you don’t know if i’m actually like that in real life. you literally said you’ve never done petplay, and you’re just assuming you’d like it.”
he shrugged, leaning back slightly, but his eyes stayed on you. “yeah, but have you done it?” his tone was way too direct for the middle of a crowded party.
you laughed again, but this time it was softer, like you were a little embarrassed. “uh… yeah.”
jake grinned, instantly smug. “then there you go. point proven. you do behave.” you didn’t say anything right away, and that threw him off, because you were almost never quiet around him. you just looked at him for a second, like you were deciding something in your head. so he tilted his head and asked, “what?”
“nothing,” you said quickly, then paused. “just thinking if you’ve ever even talked about this with anyone else before.”
he scratched the back of his neck, a little awkward now. “not really. i mean, sunghoon once told me i should bark at someone to see if i’d like it, but i didn’t take him seriously.”
you cracked up at that, covering your mouth for a second. “maybe minjeong would like that. i don’t know. you could always try it on her.”
and that was the moment it hit him, clear as day. he didn’t want to try anything with minjeong. he didn’t want to test it out with some random girl who was already halfway throwing herself at him. he wanted you.
before he could say anything though, you excused yourself, saying you were gonna grab some water or check on chaewon or something, and then you slipped into the crowd. jake stood there for a second, realizing that if he actually wanted this to go anywhere with you, he was gonna have to be more direct about it. no more hiding behind jokes or waiting for you to bring it up.
after a while, jake found you by the drinks table, leaning against it with a plastic cup in your hand. you were turned, and when you noticed him coming over, you gave him this small smile, the kind you always did that looked automatic. “can you fill mine up too?” he asked, holding out his cup.
“sure,” you said, reaching for the tap and tilting his cup under it.
the words came out of him before he even thought about them. “good girl.”
you froze for a second. like, literally stopped mid-pour. then you turned your head slowly to look at him. “what’d you say?”
he didn’t flinch. “i called you a good girl.”
he had no idea where the confidence was coming from. maybe from the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in weeks, maybe from the way you’d been laughing at his teasing earlier, maybe from too much beer, maybe from all of that. but he didn’t look away. you held his gaze for a moment, then nodded once, finished filling his cup, and handed it back to him.
he grinned. “what? did you get flustered at that?”
“shut up, jake,” you said, but you were smiling, trying to hide it, and then you turned and walked off before he could say anything else.
he’d said it once, and you didn’t blow him off, didn’t get weird, didn’t shut it down. if anything, you’d reacted. ok, he thought, taking a sip, i need to be even more direct.
later that night, jake found himself outside, because jake was jake and he couldn’t say no to a blunt rotation with his friends. he was leaning back against the side of the house with heeseung and beomgyu, all of them passing around a joint. heeseung was halfway into some rant about how he thinks all stanley cups are potentially weapons when you came bouncing out the door.
“wow,” you said immediately, spotting them. “look at you guys, stoner squad.” you laughed, light and teasing, but not mean.
jake felt that stupid twitch in his pants he’d been fighting all night right away and he hated himself for it. you weren’t even doing anything. you were just smiling like always, tail wagging friendly, and somehow that was enough to get him semi hard again.
he held the joint out to you. “want some?”
you tilted your head, eyes narrowing like you were weighing it. “hm. it’s been a while. i don’t know how i’ll react.” but you took it anyway. your fingers brushed his as you grabbed it, then you brought it to your lips, inhaling slow. jake couldn’t stop watching the way your chest rose and the way you let the smoke slip out through your lips. then you looked up at him, big doe eyes, blinking like a puppy, and it wasn’t just the weed. that was a look, and he knew that look. he saw it tons of times before from other girls he knew that wanted him to fuck them.
“you did good,” he said quietly, the words almost slipping out of his mouth on their own. his voice was low, soft but steady. praising.
you blinked, eyes widening a little, and then, of course, you smiled. not your usual grin, but this smaller one, just for him. you passed the joint back to him, and didn’t say anything. jake smirked, turned, and shoved the joint back at heeseung and beomgyu. then he leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only they could hear. “you two get the fuck outta here.”
heeseung frowned like he was about to argue, but beomgyu caught on quick, grabbed his arm, and dragged him off with the joint still in his hand. jake barely noticed, his eyes were already back on you. he could feel that edge of nervous energy sitting in his chest.
“you know,” he started, voice little lower than usual, “i’ve been thinking a lot about that test we took.”
you tilted your head, sipping the last of your drink. “oh yeah?”
he let out a quick laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “yeah. like, i’ve always wanted to try some of that stuff with someone, but i never really had anyone to test it out with.”
you snorted, but it wasn’t mean, it was playful. “come on, jake. you’re telling me you’ve had no one to test kinks with? that’s new. that’s not the jake i know.”
he laughed too, shaking his head, stepping just a little closer. “come on, you know that’s not what i mean.”
“how’s it not what you mean?” you asked, raising your brows like you were calling him out. “jake, there are at least ten girls in this house right now that i’ve personally heard say they’d do literally anything you asked. you’ve gotta be more confident.”
“the problem,” he said, this time leaning in slightly, his eyes flicking down to your mouth before back up, “is that i don’t want just anyone.”
you paused, holding his gaze, and your lips tugged into this little smirk. “then be confident and ask the person you actually want.”
you said it so obviously, like you were spelling it out for him, and jake knew you’d already figured it out. you weren’t running from it either, which only made his pulse faster. he forced himself to stay calm, not too flirty, just enough to keep it casual, smug in the only way he knew how to handle this. “look,” he said, “i know this might sound a little out of nowhere, but when i say i’ve been thinking about it, i mean i’ve actually been thinking about it.” you didn’t interrupt, you just watched him, waiting. “and i don’t want it to come off like i’m some fuck boy with weird kinks trying to test them on anyone who’s remotely into the same stuff. that’s not it. but…” he hesitated for just a second, then pushed through, “if you wanted to… if you were down… you could maybe show me the things you’re into sometime. so i can see if i’m into them too.”
he said it steady, without laughing, without looking away, even though inside his stomach was doing flips. you smirked at him, leaning in just enough to make him think that you were about to say something he wanted to hear. “yeah,” you said, dragging it out, “i could try that sometime.”
jake froze for a second, because hearing you actually say that out loud hit him harder than he expected. it had been a long time since he’d felt this type of nervous to hook up with a girl, he wasn’t just anxious but he was also excited, and his brain was already five steps ahead picturing what it would be like. and now you were looking at him with those wide puppy eyes, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t been this gone over someone in a while.
so he leaned in, not even thinking too much about it, just following the way your words had practically given him permission, but right before he got there, you stepped back, smirk still on your face. “sometime”, you corrected, “i didn’t say tonight.”
and then you turned, casually walking off, and jake just stood there, blinking at the back of your head as you went back to the house. he didn’t even know what to do with himself. he could only think one thing: when exactly had he gotten himself this fucked?
after that night, jake couldn’t think about anything else at all. every morning he woke up, the first thought in his brain was basically: when is sometime? it was killing him. his dick was practically on a constant timer, ready to embarrass him at any random moment. he’d see you on campus, just doing normal-ass things, like tying your shoe, talking to someone, sipping your coffee, and then you’d look up, smile at him like you didn’t casually say you might let him try out some kinky shit with you, and instantly his pants got tight. it was torture.
he tried to play it cool, but the truth was his brain was fried. he couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways it could go. you acting like a brat and him finally having an excuse to put you in your place? yeah, he wanted that. you in a collar? he was picturing it. you on all fours, maybe purring at him? his dick didn’t see a problem with it.
the only issue was, he knew there were steps to get there, like he couldn’t just skip straight to “here’s your leash.” but still, he wanted it, and every day it was getting more unbearable. and jake kept replaying it in his head, wondering if you’d been kinkshaming him that night. but no, you didn’t look disgusted. you looked like you enjoyed making him squirm.
so after days of overthinking, he finally just thought, fuck it, i’m texting her.
he stared at his phone for a second, then finally muttered to himself, “fuck it.” jeans went down, dick out, and he just leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath. this was the first time he was sexting someone like this, like really trying to push boundaries, and he never imagined he’d get this fucking horny reading messages.
the thought of you was too much. he didn’t even really see your words at first. his eyes were half lidded, mind spinning, imagining you there, acting like you were challenging him to keep control while he was already losing it. your texts were just triggers at that point—he didn’t need them to imagine every little sound, every whine, every little movement you’d make when he told you to behave. his hand moved on its own, faster and harder, and then he felt finally letting go, spilling all over himself, and it hit him how long it had been since he’d actually come like that just from his own hand and a fantasy. it wasn’t some casual fap to random porn. it was you. the idea of you teasing him, bratting him, letting him call you a good girl, and him slowly building you up in his mind.
finally he wiped his hand, leaned back, and looked at his phone again. the last message from you was there:
you: youre jerking off arent you?
you: hope u have fun thinking about me
you: good night jakey 😊
he just froze for a second, grinning like a complete idiot, and then read it again. and again. and again. every time he did, he couldn’t help himself— his hand went back to his dick, and he was off, imagining your voice, your little smirks, the way you’d act bratty and subby and soft all at once. he spent the rest of the night like that, phone beside him, mind completely tangled up in fantasies about you, and every time he looked at those messages he had to jerk off again, like a fucking teenager.
and it kinda turned into a routine before he even realized it. every night, somewhere between brushing his teeth and pretending he was gonna go to bed early, jake ended up texting you. it started light, memes, random shit from his day, but without fail it slid into something else. not always full on sexting, sometimes it was just you pushing him with one-liners that had him hard in minutes. like that one time you just sent:
you: good pets beg nicely, don’t they?
and he actually sat there, cock throbbing in his sweats, typing and deleting five different responses before finally sending something he never thought he’d put in writing.
and yeah, he was screwed. because he did like it, he liked you bratty, needy, whiny. he liked calling you his pet. but the thing that really fucked him up was realizing he’d always end up giving in to you anyway. no matter how much he talked big, if you told him to try something, he’d try it. if you wanted him to push a boundary, he’d push it. he was supposed to be the dom, but half the time he felt like a dog wagging his tail waiting for scraps from you. and yeah, the results saying “switch” were not a surprise at this point.
he even got nerdy about it. he continued reading reddit threads, doing kink tests, scrolling through subs at 3am like he was studying for a final exam (he should be studying for a few, actually). the only problem? he still hadn’t seen you in person. and that was driving him insane.
he could type all the filth in the world, imagine you in a collar, call you his pet until his dick hurt, but at the end of the day you were still just words on a screen. and jake wanted more, he wanted your voice in his ear, your body under his hands, not just a fucking notification making him hard. and the longer it went, the worse it got. he’d go to bed thinking about you, wake up still hard, spend the day waiting for your messages just so he could crash again in that same loop. at some point he realized he was way past curious.
and jake wasn’t even subtle about it. he’d been walking past your dorm for like the third time that week, pretending to be interested in the vending machine in the lobby. he’d already bought a snickers earlier but here he was again, suspiciously pressing buttons like he couldn’t decide between m&ms or kitkat, when the truth was he didn’t give a shit about chocolate. he just wanted to “accidentally” run into you.
and then it happened. you came through the door, head down, digging through your bag for your keys. he froze with a kitkat half dangling from the machine slot, suddenly feeling like he’d been caught doing something illegal. you finally looked up and your face lit up with that same smile you always gave him, like he wasn’t the guy who called you pet and jerked off every night to your bratty texts. he felt that familiar kick in his chest, the one that made him insane because it wasn’t just sexual. sure, you drove him crazy with how much he wanted to fuck you, but there was more. he liked you, like actually liked you, and that was worse somehow. mutt-level disaster, horny as hell but also weirdly in awe every time you looked at him like that.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, eyebrow raised, smile playing like you already knew the answer.
“uh, just grabbing something from the vending machine,” he said, holding up the kitkat like it was evidence. smooth.
you gave a small smirk, clearly not buying it, but you didn’t call him out. instead, you shifted your bag on your shoulder and said, “come on, i need to grab something from my dorm. sunoo is waiting for me at the library”
he followed, trying to act casual even though his brain was on fire. his heart was racing, not just because maybe something could happen, but because he had no idea how to handle actually being around you in real life. so when you opened the door to your dorm, he stepped inside and it was like stepping straight into your head. everything screamed you.
“you want coffee?” you asked, already moving toward your tiny coffee setup.
“i’m good,” he said, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“well, i’m making some anyway. i can’t function without coffee after lunch.”
he leaned against the wall, watching you move around, trying not to think too hard about how bad he wanted something to happen. like, yeah, he could just sit here and drink coffee with you and that’d be fine, but at the same time, every cell in his body was screaming that he wanted more. he was running through a dozen different scenarios in his head, every single one ending with him in your bed.
you sat down on the couch with your coffee, legs crossed, and jake stayed planted against the wall, staring at you. you looked up at him, those doe eyes soft and ridiculous, and asked, “what’s up? you not gonna sit?”
he swallowed, felt his chest flip, and thought, oh my god i’m about to do something dumb, but then he just did it. he dropped to his knees right in front of you, which made you blink, because nobody ever kneeled in front of you unless they were messing around. now you were exactly eye level with him, and that felt like a weird, intense pause. you raised one brow. “what are you doing?”
he gave that stupid smirk he always used when he wanted to sound like he knew what he was doing. “roleplaying,” he said, like it was the most normal explanation in the world.
you laughed, set your mug down on the side table, and then came back to him, serious for a second. “jake… are you sure you want this?”
he blinked, because of course he was sure. “are you kidding? i think i made it pretty obvious.”
you watched him for a beat, like you were checking him out, “i want you to be comfortable testing something you’ve never done before,” you said.
“i’m comfortable,” he answered, eyes locked on yours. “you comfortable?”
you let out a small, low laugh and relaxed against the back of the couch and spread your legs a little so he had room, shifted so your knees were wider, like you trusted him to handle whatever came next. “very,” you said, voice steady, challenge hiding under the calm.
he smiled, the kind that was more confident than he’d felt in weeks, and slid his hand up to rest on your knee, fingers pressing the inside of your thigh as he edged closer. he kept his touch soft at first, like he was checking the water temperature, then moved a little higher, deliberate but not rough, watching you for every little reaction. “you got me down bad for you,” he murmured, a bit proud, but pissed off at how much he wanted you.
you rolled your eyes, amused and dangerous. “then why are you taking so long to take what’s yours?” you teased, voice quiet and sharp.
so the moment he caught your eyes flicking down to his mouth, he decided he wasn’t gonna make this easy for you. in one quick motion he slid his hands behind your thighs, gripped hard, and just picked you up like you weighed nothing. before you could even gasp he’d flipped the whole situation — he was on the couch now, you on his lap, straddling him. you let out this sharp little yelp, more surprise than anything, and the second you realized the position, you went quiet. his hands were holding your thighs tight, his bulge pressed right under you.
“i’ve been dreaming about you sitting on my lap like this,” he said.
“yeah?” you breathed out, lowering your face closer to his, testing him. you shifted your hips just enough to grind against him through the layers of clothes, and that made his fingers dig in, holding you down so you couldn’t keep moving.
“behave, won’t you?” he muttered, his voice flat but loaded.
that made you smirk. “what, jakey? i thought you wanted this,” you whined, tilting your voice into that bratty little tease you knew would get him worked up. and then you were grinding on him again, slower this time, just to push.
his grip on your thighs went rough, firm enough you’d probably see the marks later, and you leaned forward like you weren’t fazed at all. he was smiling now, biting his lip, annoyed and turned on beyond reason. “give me a kiss before i put you in your place,” he said, like it was some casual request, but you both knew it wasn’t.
you were still smirking when you leaned in, noses almost brushing, clearly waiting to see how far you could stretch him before he snapped. jake thought, yeah, this girl is gonna ruin me, but he wasn’t about to let you see that written on his face. he just held you tighter and kept that cocky little grin, watching you lean in with the most torturous pace ever.
and when you did, you kissed him slow, dragging it out like you wanted to prove a point, and he kissed you back like he’d been training for this exact moment, tongue slipping into your mouth like it belonged there. he’d imagined this a hundred times, maybe more, but in reality it was so much better. when you started grinding down on him again, all drawn out and teasing, he caught your lower lip between his teeth, tugged, then went right back in. he didn’t stop until he had to pull away just to breathe, drunk on you, trailing down your jaw with his mouth, nipping and kissing until he got to your neck.
the second he heard that tiny whimper spill out of you, he fucking lost it. his hand came up, not soft, cupping your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to look at him. you smirked at him, and it made him growl out, “you’re so fucking hot.” before you could toss some bratty reply back, he cut you off. “kneel for me.”
you hesitated just a beat, smirking, like you were about to be clever. but then you surprised him, you actually obeyed, slipping off his lap and sinking to the floor in front of him. his chest felt tight watching you like that, hair a little messy, looking up at him from the floor. he leaned forward, spread his legs a little wider, and let out this low laugh. “good girl,” he said, steady. then he added, “hands on your knees. look up at me.” you did it, but with that smirk like you were humoring him, not surrendering. he arched a brow. “what’s with that look?”
“what look?” you asked, voice all fake innocence, eyes wide.
“the one that’s begging me to make you behave,” he shot back. his hand went to your hair, not pulling hard, just testing. you didn’t flinch, you leaned into it. “say please,” he said next.
you tilted your head, lips parting. “please what?”
“don’t play with me,” he warned, squeezing the back of your neck lightly.
you laughed, bratty and breathless. “you don’t even know what you want me to say please for, jakey.”
he groaned, like you were already driving him insane. “jesus christ, you’re a handful.”
you beamed, proud of yourself. “am i not your favorite little handful though?”
he gave a dry laugh, leaning forward, eyes locked on you. “yeah, you are. and you’re gonna regret milking that.” his thumb brushed your lower lip, pressing down just enough to make your mouth part. “open up,” he said. you stuck out your tongue in response, rolling your eyes like you were daring him to do something. “god, you’re such a brat,” he muttered, shaking his head but clearly loving every second. “don’t worry. i’ll train you right.”
jake already knew he was too deep in this to stop now, so when his thumb pressed harder into your lip and you opened wider, he spit right into your mouth without thinking twice. you blinked at him, a little shocked. “swallow it all,” he’d said, and you did, no hesitation. he could see it hit you too, the way your shoulders shifted, that look in your eyes flipping. that was the first time any guy had done that to you, and jake clocked the moment you gave in a little, the brat suddenly turning pliant.
he smirked, dragged his thumb out of your mouth and replaced it with his index finger, pushing against your tongue. “suck.” you did, lips wrapping around it, tongue working slow like you wanted to torture him. he groaned, letting you do it, and then switched it up, making you take his thumb. “good girl. now tell me what you want, pet.”
your eyes flicked up, all teasing again, and you mumbled around his thumb, “it’s hurting, jakey.”
his brain stalled for a second. wow, she’s actually kinky as hell, he thought. he softened, brushing his free hand across your cheek. “what’s hurting, baby?”
you pulled his thumb out just enough to pout at him, voice dripping brat, “i need you so much it hurts.”
that one hit him straight in the gut. he was in awe, just staring at you. “aw, princess,” he said, almost laughing in disbelief. “do you need me to take care of you?” you nodded fast, lips pushing out in a little whine. “but,” he leaned down, pressing his forehead close to yours, “you gotta deserve to be rewarded, you know that, right? will you behave for me?”
your nod was eager this time, quick. “i will, i promise.”
“yeah?” he said, standing up slow, eyes locked on you the whole time while his fingers went to his belt. he tugged it loose, the leather sliding through the loops while he bit his lip. your eyes tracked every movement, wide and hungry, those stupid puppy eyes making him feel feral. but the second you started to lift your hands from your thighs like you wanted to reach for him, he snapped. “uh-uh.” he pointed right at you. “what’d i tell you? hands on your thighs, pet.”
you huffed, clearly annoyed, but put them back exactly where he wanted. “good girl,” he said again, dragging his zipper down nice and slow, making sure you stayed right there, waiting. he tugged his jeans and briefs down in one go, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, and the second your eyes widened he almost lost it. you actually drooled a little, lips parted, and he laughed low, cocky as ever. “yeah, like what you see, huh? big, but you can take it, right baby?”
his hand landed on your head, gentle but firm, fingers threading through your hair. you pouted up at him, whining softly, “i don’t know, jakey.”
he grinned like you’d just said the funniest shit in the world, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “don’t know? c’mon, you’re my good girl. you can take it. i know you can. don’t make me remind you.” and you nodded so fast, eager, like his words flipped some switch inside you. “see? there she is. good girl. now… go slow, pretty. just lick it. like a kitty.” you leaned in, tongue shy at first, just dragging along the tip, and he hissed, hand tightening in your hair. “fuck, yeah… just like that. lap it up for me.”
you licked your way down his shaft, soft little flicks of your tongue, and he was going crazy, eyes screwed shut for a second, trying to hold back. “jesus fuck, look at you. you’re actually licking me like a fucking kitten. do you even know how cute you look right now?”
you hummed against him, pulling back with a wet mouth and whispering, “maybe i just wanna play with you.”
he laughed again, smug but wrecked already, giving your cheek a few pats like he was rewarding you. “play all you want, sweetheart. just remember who owns you now. okay?” your eyes went wide at that, pupils blown, and you nodded, lips pressing back against the base of his cock, licking slow all the way up. he groaned, the sound broken. “fuck, that’s it. my pretty pet, my good little kitty. keep showing me how bad you need it. you’re making your owner so proud.”
jake never pictured himself like this, or saying those things, not with anyone. he’d had his fun before, sure, but the fact that he was seconds away from spilling down your throat from those innocent little eyes alone? yeah, that was new. he was way more down bad than he ever admitted.
so when your tongue started moving faster, when you got bolder, sloppier, sucking him off with that bratty determination like you wanted to prove something, he groaned, hand snapping down to your hair. a sharp tug, a wet pop leaving your lips as his cock slipped free. you looked up at him, eyes wide, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.
“aw, you want more, baby?” he teased, voice ragged, trying to keep control when he was already losing it. you nodded instantly, needy, and his smile widened. “you’re getting it, don’t worry. but for now…” he leaned back on the couch, cock heavy against his stomach, and patted his thigh. “come on, hop on.”
you did exactly that, crawling up into his lap like the little cat he kept calling you, hands pressing into the cushion as you moved, hips hovering just enough that your clothed core brushed his bare cock. the second you started to grind down, though, he didn’t let you have it, he flipped you fast, pressing you down so your cheek met the couch cushion, ass up high for him. “that’s better,” he muttered, sitting under you. the sight alone nearly ruined him, your ass arched perfectly, skirt riding up.
his fingers slid along your thighs before catching on the fabric, tugging at your skirt. “let’s take this off, mhm?” he peeled it down slow, tossing it aside, leaving you in just your panties. he let his palm rest over one cheek, rubbing soft, soothing circles, like he was calming his pet after riling her up too much. “look at you,” he murmured, voice softer now, almost in awe. “all laid out for me. such a good girl.” his hand smoothed over your ass again before giving it a light squeeze. “stay just like this, pet. don’t move unless i tell you to.”
you whined into the cushion, wiggling your hips like you were trying to bait him, and he laughed low, shaking his head. “bratty already? we talked about this, remember? ass up, face down. behave for me, or you’ll wait longer.” his tone was playful, not cruel, but it still made you still, biting down your whines. he leaned in, letting his cock brush lightly against your thigh, teasing. “good. that’s better. see? my sweet pet can listen. and when you listen, you get rewarded.”
his hand drifted down, slow, lazy, like he had all night to play with you. two fingers pressed against the thin fabric of your panties, dragging along the damp spot he already knew he’d find. the second he felt it, he chuckled, low and pleased, rubbing small circles just to hear you react. “aw, you’re soaked right through, baby. that’s so hot.” his tone was teasing.
you whined, pressing your face harder into the couch, your voice muffled but still clear. “only for you.”
that made his cock twitch, he leaned forward, chest almost brushing your back, lips close to your ear. “oh yeah? only for me?” he pressed his fingers harder against the fabric, not slipping inside, just making you squirm. “then tell me, pet. tell me what you want me to do.”
you let out a frustrated sound, trying to grind back against his hand, but he had you pinned with his thigh under your stomach, keeping you in place. “i want your fingers,” you whispered, needy.
“my fingers, huh?” he dragged them along your slit, slow enough to make it torture. “you want me to make you feel good with these?” he brought one up to your lips, letting you see the damp shine of your own arousal. you nodded quickly, pout forming again, and he laughed, patting your ass lightly like he was warning you. “needy little thing. so spoiled. but since you asked so nicely…”
his fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties at last, the fabric dragging down just enough for him to slip inside and find your folds. you moaned loudly and whiny, and he swore under his breath at how wet you were, coating his fingers instantly. “fuck,” he muttered, curling one finger inside you while his other hand smoothed over your hip, keeping you steady. “there we go. my good girl, taking me so easy. stay still for me, pet. let me play with you just like this.”
his fingers started moving faster, curling and dragging in a way that made your whole body jolt against his thigh. you yelped, louder this time, the sound bouncing in the quiet room. jake immediately leaned down, his breath brushing your ear. “quiet, pet. don’t want anyone hearing, do we?” you bit your lip, tried to hold it back, but the next time his fingers pushed deeper, a sharp whimper slipped out anyway. his voice dropped. “i said quiet.”
you tried again, muffling yourself against the couch cushion, but your body betrayed you, another sound ripping through your throat when his pace picked up. and then, suddenly, he pulled his hand away completely. the emptiness made you groan, frustrated, your hips wiggling back in protest. “ill have to punish you now, you know that right?” he said it calm, almost like he was explaining something obvious, but the way his hand smoothed over your ass right after made you shiver.
you tilted your head just enough to glance back at him, pouty and bratty. “maybe i wanted you to stop.”
he raised his brows, amused, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “oh yeah? is that what you’re telling yourself?”
you wiggled again, pushing your hips back against him like you were testing his patience. “maybe i like it better when you’re mad.”
he laughed under his breath, shaking his head, but there was heat in his eyes. “careful, pet. you’re about to get exactly what you’re asking for.”
and then his hand came down. not too hard, but enough to make your body jolt, the sound echoing sharp in the room. you gasped, and then laughed breathlessly, almost taunting. “that all you got, jakey?”
his jaw flexed, and his hand landed again, harder this time, the smack making your skin sting. “you really wanna test me right now?” he let out a low groan, dragging both hands over your ass before landing another quick series of spanks, steady and controlled. each one made your body jerk, and each time you made some sound that only pushed him further. “fuck,” he muttered, “you like this too much.”
his hand smoothed over the warmth he’d left behind, fingers soothing, but then he landed one more sharp smack that made you yelp louder than before. he immediately grabbed your hair, tugging your head back just enough so you couldn’t bury your face anymore. “i wanna hear you beg properly,” he said, his tone firm now, “say you’ll be good for me, and maybe i’ll give you back my fingers. if not…” he squeezed your ass hard, “we’re staying right here until you learn.”
the moment you opened your mouth, ready to fire back with something bratty or maybe even give in and beg, the bell rang. both of you froze, staring at each other wide-eyed.
jake blinked, still holding your hair, then muttered, “i think you were too loud?” but the way he said it wasn’t teasing, wasn’t even part of the game, it was just matter of fact, like he really thought your whines had carried down the hall.
you stared back at him, cheeks flushed, and scoffed. “no, i don’t think so.” and then the bell rang again, even longer this time, and you panicked, scrambling, yelling “i’m coming!” towards the door.
jake almost choked, because his brain short-circuited for a second and he thought, god, i wish she’d say that in a whole other context.
everything after that moved way too fast. one second you were half naked, bent over, bratting about his punishment, the next you were yanking your skirt back up and pulling your shirt down, your hair all messy and your lips swollen from kissing. you grabbed his pants and his wrist and dragged him towards your bedroom. he was stumbling after you, his dick still hard, bouncing against his stomach because he wasn’t even wearing pants anymore, which just made the whole thing ten times more ridiculous.
“stay there, quickly, i’ll be right back,” you hissed at him, shoving him into your room and throwing his pants at him while he caught them in the air.
jake stood there, half dazed, half turned on, thinking this was the most chaotic blue balls situation of his life. his cock was throbbing, his shirt was wrinkled, and he was hiding in a girl’s bedroom like a teenager.
he sat there on the edge of your bed, pantsless, staring at the door and he could hear everything clear as day. suddenly he could hear sunoo’s voice carried through the dorm, cheerful and way too loud for jake’s current situation. “y/n! i was calling you, you didn’t answer. i was waiting for you at the library. i got worried!”
you sounded way too casual for someone who’d just been spread out over the couch whining under jake’s fingers. “oh, sorry, i dozed off. i was so tired.”
there was a pause, then sunoo’s suspicious tone: “why are you red? and your hair looks… what happened?”
you snapped back instantly, “i was sleeping, i told you.”
jake, meanwhile, buried his face in his hands. jesus fucking christ. this was ridiculous. that was his cue, he quickly pulled his boxers back up, then wriggled into his jeans. because as much as his dick hated it, it was way too humiliating to sit there listening in with his bare ass on your sheets.
while he was buttoning up, his eyes wandered. your room was… very you. he noticed sanrio plushies stacked in the corner, a little snoopy mug on the desk with pens sticking out of it, and an actual pink and white gamer setup with a keyboard that lit up like cotton candy. he blinked at that one, he didn’t even know you gamed, but apparently you did, and you did it in the most annoyingly cute way possible. it was distracting, like the whole place was a scrapbook of your personality, and he was sitting there in the middle of it half hard, listening to your best friend interrogate you in the next room.
then he heard you again, your voice a little rushed. “let me just go to my room and fix myself up, i’ll be quick.”
sunoo didn’t sound convinced. “i’ll come with you—”
“no, wait in the living room. were you born glued to me or something?”
“what the—are you crazy?” sunoo shot back, baffled.
“sunoo, let me change alone,” you said, sharper now, but still playful enough to throw him off.
jake had to bite back a laugh, shaking his head. you were juggling this so smoothly, meanwhile he looked like an idiot sitting on your bed, surrounded by stuffed animals, pretending this was normal.
and then the door cracked open and you slipped back in, closing it quickly behind you, leaving sunoo muttering to himself outside. jake was sitting there, finally dressed, looking suspicious. you let out this little laugh, low, like you couldn’t believe how cute he looked sitting there stiff on your bed surrounded by your plushies. he stood up, kind of sheepish, and you just smiled at him like nothing was out of the ordinary, whispering, “im so sorry, i have to go,” with a pout that made you look more like a kid ditching class than someone who just had her ass smacked red ten minutes ago.
he thought you were adorable like that, so he shook his head and said, “it’s okay, i liked distracting you.”
then you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. not hot, not horny, not dripping with tension, just a casual kiss. and that’s what fucked him up a bit, because he never did casual kisses like that with anyone.
“i’ll change, leave, and you can stay here, okay? i’ll leave the door open so you can head out whenever. you can even get comfy if you want to, i don’t mind,” you said like you were inviting him to borrow a hoodie or something. easygoing, no stress. he stood there thinking, wow, you really weren’t trying to make him feel embarrassed, even though you could’ve. you could’ve outed him to sunoo in two seconds flat, but you didn’t.
so you turned around, grabbed clothes, changed right there like it was nothing, and then you were gone, chatting back at sunoo.
and jake just sat there on your bed, hands on his knees, staring at the kuromi plush in the corner like it had answers. his dick was still half hard in his jeans, but his brain was louder than his body this time. he thought, holy shit, i just had the kinkiest, freakiest time of my life and somehow my dick never even got inside her once.
after that day, things between you and jake definitely got steamier. he was still jake, pretending he just “happened” to run into you on campus, but really he was timing shit out. he knew your class schedule better than his own. sometimes he’d wait outside one of your lectures and play it off like, “oh hey, didn’t know you had class here,” and then two minutes later he had you pressed against a wall making out. subtle wasn’t his thing anymore.
he started hanging around your friends more too. jungwon, who he already kind of knew, turned into his partner-in-crime somehow. jake was showing up to sit at your table like he belonged there. sunoo kept giving him these looks, like he was three seconds away from calling him out, and jake swore the guy had to know something even though you promised you hadn’t told him a word. it was just the way sunoo looked at him– suspicious as hell.
and the thing was, jake couldn’t really keep his hands off you. you’d be standing in line at the vending machine and he’d pull you aside to kiss you like he hadn’t seen you in a year. in between classes he’d tug you down some hallway and you’d laugh, telling him to chill, but you’d still kiss him back. the parking lot was another story. he kissed you once against your car, his hand already halfway down the back of your jeans, when someone walked by and you had to shove him off, both of you laughing.
the thing is, none of it ever went further than hot kisses and some wandering hands. it wasn’t full-on sex, not yet. and that was what was killing jake slowly. he was losing his mind because you’d give him just enough: enough roleplay, enough teasing, enough touching to keep him hooked, but never the whole thing. every time you whispered something bratty in his ear or let him grab your waist in the middle of campus, he wanted you more. and the more he got, the less satisfied he felt, because it only made him hungrier.
so he came up with this plan. he wanted to make it special, and he couldn’t quite figure out why he cared so much. the timing lined up with jungwon’s birthday, just a small gathering at his place with close friends. jake was invited, obviously, him and jungwon were basically glued at the hip now. so he offered to pick you up.
when you got into his car that night, jake didn’t even wait a beat. you barely closed the door before he leaned over, caught your chin, and kissed you. it wasn’t rushed though, he kissed you slow, deep, like he’d been starving all week. you kissed him back, let him taste you for a second, before pulling away with a laugh. “jake, we’re gonna be late,” you said.
he smirked and said “worth it.” then, just to make your stomach flip, he grabbed your other hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles before starting the engine. jake kept sneaking looks at you, thumb brushing your hand where it rested in his. when you arrived at jungwon’s, jake slipped his hand to your lower back as you both walked inside, guiding you.
the whole night, jake barely left your side. if you went to the kitchen, he was there leaning against the counter, sipping from his cup, making stupid commentary. if you sat down, he took the spot next to you, knee brushing yours. it wasn’t possessive, not even official, but he hovered like a guy on a date, even though neither of you had ever said that word out loud. and the thing was, you let him.
sometimes your friends would tease – sunoo gave you this knowing look across the room at one point – but you brushed it off. the real issue wasn’t what people thought. it was that every time jake leaned in close to whisper something dumb in your ear, every time his fingers brushed against yours under the table, you wanted him so bad it made you dizzy. and judging by the way he kept staring at your mouth all night, he was having the same problem.
when the party ended, he offered you a ride back to your place, and at the elevator going down in jungwon’s building, he already couldn’t hold it. the doors closed, the silence hit, and he cornered you right there, pressing you against the wall before you could even blink. his mouth was on yours, hot and messy, your little whine breaking between the kisses making his head spin. you tugged at his shirt, and he groaned into your mouth like he’d been waiting for this all damn night.
he pulled back just enough to breathe, lips still brushing yours, and whispered, “come to my place, please.” he didn’t even think before saying it. it just spilled out.
you didn’t even hesitate. you just nodded, whispered “okay,” and kissed him again like you couldn’t wait either.
the car ride was a whole other mess. his hand was glued to your thigh, fingers sliding higher and you weren’t doing anything to stop him. he kept smirking at you, leaning close enough to murmur shit like, “you’re so needy, aren’t you?” or “you’ve been teasing me for weeks, baby. you think i’m letting you off easy tonight?” and every time, you’d bite your lip and nod, your bratty side slipping but not disappearing entirely.
by the time he pulled into the driveway, you were both buzzing. he didn’t even bother with slow steps once you got inside. the moment the door shut, he pressed you against it hard, kissing you. one hand held your waist, the other grabbed your wrist and guided it straight to his bulge through his jeans. “see?” he panted against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours. “this is what you do to me.”
and you felt it hard and heavy under your palm, and the way you looked up at him, wide eyed and needy, just about made him lose his mind right there.
he didn’t even give you a second to think. he was now scooping you up, you gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he carried you down the hall like he’d done it a hundred times before. except he hadn’t, and he was going crazy about the fact that it was you in his arms. he kissed you the whole way, sloppy, greedy kisses that landed half on your lips and half on your jaw because he refused to stop even while moving.
by the time he made it to his room, he basically tossed you onto the bed. he climbed on after you, settling between your legs like he was claiming his spot. “open up for me,” he said, and you did, spreading your thighs wide, and the way he looked at you like that nearly made you combust. he grabbed your leg, lifted it, and started kissing up from your ankle, slow and deliberate, leaving wet trails on your skin until he was nipping at your inner thigh.
“i’ve been dying to have you like this,” he murmured against your skin, and then looked up at you, eyes dark, “you’re mine, aren’t you?” you were too far gone to answer, your head falling back, a whimper spilling out instead. that wasn’t enough for him. “answer me, pet,” he demanded, giving your thigh a squeeze.
you nodded desperately, voice breaking as you whispered, “i can’t take it anymore, jakey. i need you.”
he smirked, brushing his lips right where you were the most sensitive but not giving you what you wanted yet. “i got you something,” he said, and just like that, he pulled back.
you blinked up at him, confused and needy, while he turned to his nightstand. he pulled the drawer open and, without much hesitation, pulled out a pair of shiny handcuffs. “oooh,” you laughed, your cheeks heating, but there was excitement in your voice.
the thing was, jake had been planning this longer than he cared to admit. last week, he had walked into the little sex shop near campus and walked out with a small bag of things he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually use. he told himself it was “just in case,” even though deep down he was already picturing you.
the shop itself had been an experience. he walked in like he belonged there, but the second he saw all the shelves stacked with vibrators, butt plugs, leather collars, and some shit he didn’t even know the name of, he nearly turned around. he swore the old lady behind the counter was judging him, even though it was literally her job. jake had grabbed the handcuffs, lingered a little too long in front of the section with leashes and collars, and even picked up a blindfold before chickening out and putting it back.
he paid fast as hell, shoved the bag in his backpack, and prayed no one he knew would walk past the store. and now here he was, finally pulling the cuffs out.
he looked back at you on his bed, all spread out and waiting, and thought, holy shit, i actually bought this for her. i’m really about to do this. “do you want that?” he asked, voice low, holding the cuffs up so they caught the light.
your stomach flipped. you couldn’t stop the bratty little grin curling at your lips, couldn’t stop the way your thighs shifted like you already knew what was coming. “yes,” you whispered, your voice just breathless enough to make his smirk turn sharp.
“fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head like you were too much, “you’re so dirty, aren’t you?”
before you could even think of something smart to throw back at him, he was already climbing over you, grabbing your wrists and snapping the cuffs around them, locking them together above your head. the metal was cool, firm, and you shivered when you felt it click. he spread your thighs wider with a slow push, his hand on your knee like he owned every inch of you.
“stay still, or i’ll punish you,” he said, and it was low, commanding, no room for play in it. you whined, hips already twitching up toward him without your permission. “behave,” he warned, shooting you a look that made you clamp your lips shut, “already told you.”
he reached down, tugged your skirt off, tossing it aside so you were bare under his gaze. he kissed along your inner thigh, slow and messy, lips dragging up your skin, making you squirm even though you tried so hard to stay still like he told you to. when his mouth got close enough to your panties, he pressed his face against the heat of you, inhaling, and you heard him groan low in his throat. “my bunny smells so fucking good,” he muttered, almost like he was drunk on it already.
“your bunny?” you whispered, testing the word, voice shaky.
he smirked against you, looking up through his lashes. “yeah, mine. my pet. my bunny.” something in you melted, and you couldn’t stop yourself from nodding, tugging uselessly at the cuffs. “what does my pet want?” he teased, his voice dropping lower, his lips brushing the fabric of your panties as he spoke. “want me to eat you out, hm?”
you nodded desperately, the words tumbling out of you, “please—jake, please.”
he tilted his head, pretending to think about it, then tapped your thigh. “aw, you deserve it, don’t you? you’ve been so obedient.”
you whimpered, nodding, whispering, “yes, yes, i deserve it, please—”
and then he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanked them down in one quick move, tossing them to the floor. “fuck, look at you,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss just above your heat, deliberately avoiding your clit while you squirmed beneath him. “drooling for me already. my perfect little bunny.” you tugged at the cuffs, frustrated, whining his name. he chuckled against your thigh, the sound vibrating through your skin. “patience, baby. i’ll give you what you want when i’m ready.”
and then, finally, he licked a slow stripe up your folds, and your whole body jolted. you moaned, loud and messy, your back arching as his tongue pressed deeper, as he lapped you up like he’d been starving for it. he groaned into you, “that’s it,” he mumbled against you, licking you again and again, “make those pretty noises for me. let everyone know who you belong to.”
his tongue was everywhere, sliding, circling, pressing against your clit just right before pulling away, dragging down to lick into you, greedy and messy. his hands were firm on your thighs, holding them open wide, keeping you spread for him like you had no choice but to take it. you were whimpering, tugging at the cuffs, your chest rising and falling fast. “please, jake—”
he groaned into your pussy, the sound vibrating against you, making your hips jerk. he pulled back just enough to smirk up at you, lips and chin wet. “say it properly, pet. you wanna cum? beg for it.”
your face burned, but the desperation in your voice gave you away. “please let me cum, i need it, i need you, please, please, i’ll be good—”
he laughed low, then pressed his tongue flat against your clit, making your head fall back. “you’re gonna cum when i say, okay, bunny?”
you nodded frantically, whining, “okay, okay, i’ll wait, i’ll wait—”
but your body betrayed you. the way he sucked on your clit, the way he lapped you up like he wanted to drink you dry, it was too much. your thighs shook, your whole body tensed, and then you broke apart, cumming hard into his mouth before he even gave the word. you cried out his name, the cuffs rattling above your head as you tried to ground yourself, and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, messier now, tongue fucking you while you were still trembling, overstimulated, every nerve raw. you tried to squirm away, but his grip was too strong, holding your thighs wide open, his mouth still working you like you were his.
when he finally pulled back, his lips shiny, his breathing heavy, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawled up over you. his hand caught your chin, firm and unyielding, forcing your face up to look at him. “did you just cum without my permission?” he asked, his voice dark, his eyes locked on yours.
you bit your lip, trying not to smile, bratty even with your chest heaving. “yeah, what you gonna do?”
his grip on your chin tightened just a little, his smirk sharp, dangerous. “you’re about to fucking find out, bitch.”
the word made your eyes widen, a flash of surprise mixed with the way your stomach twisted with heat. he saw it, of course he did, and it only made his grin curl wider. without saying anything else, he freed you from the cuffs, and then he reached over to his drawer again, sliding it open, and soon after you felt him turn you over, pressing you chest down into the mattress. his hand slid along the back of your neck as he fastened something firm around your throat. a collar.
“if you wanna act like my bitch,” he muttered close to your ear, tugging on it once to test the fit, “maybe i’ll just put a leash on you.” your body shivered at the sound of it, and you let out a whine muffled against the sheets. he gave you a second to breathe before pushing off the bed, standing tall. “get off the bed,” he ordered, his voice steady but sharp. “kneel on the floor. hands on your thighs. like i taught you.”
you moved quickly, scrambling off the mattress, and the second your knees hit the floor, you dropped into position, head slightly bowed, palms flat against your thighs. you felt the weight of the collar with every breath, heavy, real. jake sat back on the edge of the bed, legs spread just enough, elbows resting loosely on his knees. he looked down at you for a long moment, letting the silence sit, letting you squirm under his gaze. then his hand came out, patting the top of your head like he was rewarding a pet.
“you look so fucking pretty in a collar,” he said, his tone low, rough. “acting so obedient now. not so bratty anymore, huh?” your lips parted, but you stayed quiet, because you knew better now. he leaned back a little, watching you stay perfectly still on your knees in front of him. the collar sat snug on your neck, and he let his fingers trace over it like he was reminding you who put it there.
“good girl,” he said slowly, almost teasing. “but let’s see if you actually learned something.” his hand came down, tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his eyes. “you want me to let you touch me?”
“yes, please,” you whispered immediately, your voice shaky but eager.
he smirked, clearly satisfied with that, but still not giving in. instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your face. “tell me what you are.”
your eyes flickered, nervous but turned on. “i’m your pet.”
his grin stretched wide. “and what does my pet want right now?”
your body squirmed as you shifted on your knees, thighs pressing together, heat pooling low. “i want to please you.”
“hm,” he hummed, tilting his head. “you want my cock in your mouth, don’t you?”
“mhm, yes, so bad.” you said whiny.
he raised a brow, clearly enjoying dragging it out. “why should i let you?”
you whined, the sound spilling out without you meaning to, and he chuckled low. “please, jake… i’ll be good, i promise.”
he leaned forward again, his lips brushing against your ear. “beg properly, pet.”
your hands clenched against your thighs, nails digging into your skin as you whispered quickly, desperate, “please let me suck your cock, i need it, i’ll be good, i’ll do it how you like, just please.”
he smirked like he’d been waiting for that exact moment, thumb dragging over your bottom lip again before pulling his hand away completely. “open my pants.” your hands shot forward instantly, fumbling just a little with the button and zipper, pulling them down slowly, careful, like you knew he was watching your every move. he shifted his hips up to help, letting you slide the fabric down enough, and when his cock sprang free, thick and already hard, he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you to look at it.
“there it is,” he muttered, his tone sharp. “the thing you’ve been begging for.” you licked your lips, eyes wide, but you stayed frozen until he gave the word. he smirked again, tugging your hair gently. “go on, pet. show me how good you can be.”
you started slow, almost too slow, your lips brushing against the tip first, tongue flicking against the slit while your hand wrapped around the base. jake groaned right away, his head tipping back as his fingers tightened in your hair. “fuck… you’re really gonna tease me now?” his voice was low, almost strained, but you didn’t speed up. you flattened your tongue along the underside and dragged it down, taking your time, making him twitch against your lips.
you slowly pushed him deeper into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, but still holding back, pulling off every few seconds just to lick around his head again. drool was already starting to wet your chin, and the sight made him groan even louder. “shit… look at you. on your knees, drooling for me.” he tugged harder on your hair, guiding you back down, and you let him.
he held you there, watching you take him slow, your throat stretching around him as you gagged softly, eyes watering a little. that sound made him grit his teeth. “fuck, you like this, don’t you?” he muttered, his voice harsh now. “mhm? you like choking on my cock like a good little bitch?”
you moaned around him, the vibrations sending a shiver through his body. he pulled you off suddenly, saliva dripping from your lips, and forced you to look at him. “answer me,” he demanded, his grip unrelenting.
you gasped, your voice weak but clear. “yes, yes! i like it.”
he smirked, his thumb smearing your spit over your lips. “damn… you like the whole thing, don’t you? degradation too?”
before you could answer, he pushed you back down, this time not letting you go at your own pace. he thrusted up into your mouth, using your head like a handle, fucking your throat without mercy. your gagging filled the room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gasped for breath between strokes. “that’s it, baby,” he groaned, his hips snapping up harder, faster. “take it. take it all like the dumb little slut you are.”
you clawed at his thighs, not to push him away but to hold on, and he laughed breathlessly. “jesus christ, you’re sick for this. my obedient pet one second, my dirty slut the next. fuck, i’m never letting you go.” he shoved himself deeper, until your nose pressed against his skin, and held you there, watching your throat work around him. you gagged, choked, saliva spilling everywhere, but you didn’t fight it, you let him use you, collar tight against your neck, and it drove him fucking insane.
he drove himself until he lost it, groaning your name as he came, and the warm, filthy flood hit the back of your throat. you gagged around him, eyes wide, stomach tightening as his hips convulsed, and when he finally slowed and stilled you swallowed reflexively, shaking, tasting him on your tongue.
he watched you the whole time, chest heaving, and then he pulled out. you were breathing hard, cheeks flushed. he scooped you up with this sudden tenderness that almost felt comical after the roughness, picked you up like you were light as a feather and carried you back to the bed.
you lay there as he settled down beside you, and his hands were all soft now. he kissed your face like he was making up for everything, trailing from your mouth down to your collarbone, lingering, then along your arm to your hand where he actually sucked on your fingers for a beat, ridiculous and sweet and wildly out of sync with what he’d been doing minutes before.
“my baby did so good,” he murmured against your skin, voice full of something that wasn’t only lust. “you treated me so well.”
you were breathless and whining, voice small and needy. he smiled into your neck, tasting you again, and you felt both stupid and right to be lost in the softness after the dirty stuff. his praise kept coming, until, in a quick motion that made your heart jump, he shifted behind you so your back pressed into his chest. he folded you into him, one arm wrapping under your ribs, the other finding your legs and holding them open wide.
“i’m gonna reward you now, okay?” he said into your hair, voice steady. “i feel bad for being mean to my bunny.” there was a teasing edge but also actual warmth. you could feel him hard against the small of your back, steady.
he cupped your thighs, fingers warm, and brushed a palm over your slick where he’d made you come earlier, slow, deliberate. you squirmed, he kissed the back of your ear, then whispered, “do you want my fingers again? or do you want me inside you?”
you looked back over your shoulder, eyes bright, tiny smirk slipping through the haze. “i want you,” you breathed.
he hummed, pleased, and his hand slid between your legs, fingers parting you easily. he started with one finger, slow, pressing in and curling gently, testing, then adding a second as you moaned into his shirt. his thumb found your clit, rubbing in easy circles while his fingers worked inside you, a steady, confident rhythm that built you back up from the edges. “that’s it,” he praised, low and rough. “such a good girl. take it for me.”
you were trembling, the combination of his fingers and the proximity of his cock against your back making everything too much. you whined, hips rocking, chasing more, and he laughed softly, biting at your shoulder. “you make the dumbest little noises when i touch you. it’s almost embarrassing how much you need me.”
his thumb pressed harder, fingers curling deep, and your whole body shook, forehead falling against his shoulders. he kissed the back of your neck, lips dragging over the collar around your throat, his breath hot against your skin. then his voice dropped darker, meaner, right in your ear. “do you want my cock inside you, hm?” you whined and nodded, and his fingers slowed, teasing, holding you on edge. “ask me nicely, pet.”
you squirmed, chest heaving, and finally whispered, “please, jake, i want it. i want your cock, please–”
he groaned low, his grip tightening on your waist. “that’s my girl. begging so sweet.” he lifted you up just a little, enough to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance. he didn’t push in right away. instead, he held you there, rubbing himself through your folds, letting you feel how hard he was. “feel that? all yours if you behave.” you whined and tried to sink down, but his hands stopped you. he breathed against your ear again. “slow. i’m gonna make you take it slow.”
inch by inch, he guided you down onto him, your body stretching around him, every second dragging out. he held your hips steady, forcing you to feel every bit of him sliding in. your moans filled the room, shaky and raw, and he kissed the side of your neck, whispering, “good girl. you’re doing so good for me.”
he bottomed out finally, keeping you still, cock buried deep inside you while his arm locked you in place. his lips pressed to your collar, then your ear. “stay right here. don’t move. let me feel you.”
you could feel the way his chest rose sharp against your back, the way he was fighting to breathe steady. his forehead dropped to your shoulder, and for a moment he didn’t move at all, just holding you there, stuffed full, his heavy cock twitching inside you. “fuck,” he groaned, low and broken, like he’d been waiting forever for this. his hand dragged down your thigh, squeezing tight. “you don’t know how long i wanted this. how bad.” his hips shifted just a little, not even pulling out, just grinding deeper into you, chasing more of your heat.
when he finally started to move, it was slow, dragging himself out a few inches and sliding back in just as carefully. the stretch made both of you gasp. he kissed your shoulder, your neck, muttering, “fuck, you feel perfect. so tight.” his thighs shifted under you, his body adjusting. he pressed his feet into the mattress, grounding himself, and the new leverage let him sink back in harder. the bed creaked with the movement, his grip on your waist tightening.
his thrusts picked up, still controlled but deeper, faster, each one hitting with more force. the sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, his breath rough in your ear. his rhythm built steady, more sure with every thrust, the need he’d been holding back finally breaking through as he fucked into you from below, hips snapping up against you.
“that’s it,” he growled against your ear, voice ragged. “take it. take my cock, pet. bounce on it.” his free hand slid down your front, fingers finding your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make you jolt. you whined, back arching into his chest, and he laughed low, mean but so turned on. “look at you– you love when i rub your clit while i fuck you stupid, don’t you?”
your answer came out broken, just a mess of yes and please, and he rewarded you by pressing harder, rubbing tight circles while still driving his cock into you rough and deep. “good girl,” he panted, his lips brushing the side of your neck, wet from his kisses. “you’re mine. my sweet bunny, taking me so well.”
he slowed just enough to shift you, his hands sliding down your sides as he pulled out of you. you were still shaking when he turned you around, moving you onto his lap so you were straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. his cock brushed against you, wet and hot, as he guided you down onto him again, inch by inch, until you were seated fully, face to face.
his eyes locked with yours, dark and heavy. “that’s better,” he murmured, breathless. “i want to see you while you ride me.” he grabbed your hips, steadying you, then started rolling them forward, showing you the rhythm he wanted. “move, puppy,” he said quietly, voice rough. “show me how you ride.”
you began to move, slow at first, your hands pressed to his chest. his palms slid up your sides, then cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened under his touch. he squeezed, played, tugged gently, making you moan. “look at my pretty pet,” he said, fingers teasing your nipples while his hips pushed up into you. “bouncing on my cock so good. does it feel good, pup?”
you whined in answer, head tipping back, and he reached up and caught the collar at your throat, fingers curling in the strap to pull you back down until your faces were inches apart. “closer,” he ordered. “right here. eyes on me, baby.”
his grip on the collar held you steady as you rode him, your breasts moving in his hands. he pinched your nipples again, rolling them between his fingers while he thrust up into you, forcing another whimper from your throat. your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to move on him, the stretch making your breath come out in shaky little sounds. your forehead dropped to his, eyes squeezed shut.
“jake–-” you whispered, voice breaking. “it’s too much. you’re too big…”
his smirk flickered, a small groan in his chest as he pulled a little on your collar to make you look at him. “aww,” he said, low. “but you can take it, can’t you? slow down, baby. don’t run from it. let it in.”
you nodded, trembling, and started to roll your hips slower, dragging yourself up and down his length inch by inch. the shift made it even deeper, and you gasped, biting your lip. jake leaned back, eyes fixed on you, and put both hands behind his head, elbows out, like he was watching a show. his cock twitched inside you as you tried to keep the rhythm, struggling a little at how full you felt.
he let out a quiet, cruel laugh. “can’t even take all of it without whining. you love it, though. you love how big i am.” you whimpered, hips moving slower, trying to adjust, and he tilted his head, smirk growing wider. “that’s right. ride it nice and slow. so tight around me. so small. look at you struggling on my cock like that, fuck, so hot—”
you slowed down on purpose, hips rolling even slower than before, your hands pressing against his chest like you were testing him. your eyes caught his as you bit your lip, that bratty look on your face making him groan. he tugged at the collar just enough to make you jolt. “don’t play with me, pup.” his voice was low, sharp. “you think i won’t punish you?”
you tilted your head and moved even slower, your nails dragging down his stomach. “maybe i want you to.” your voice was soft, teasing, a little whine under it.
his jaw flexed. “oh, you want to act up?” he sat up, one hand gripping your hip tight. “you’re just begging for it, aren’t you.” he pulled the collar again, making you lean closer to his face. “say it. say you want me to punish you.”
you let out a small sound and whispered, “i want it.”
he smirked. “good.” with a quick motion he flipped you off his lap and onto the bed, stomach down. his palm pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you down while he shifted behind you. “hands and knees. now.” you scrambled to obey, getting on all fours, the collar still around your neck, your hair falling into your face. his hand slid down your back and squeezed your ass. “stay like that. don’t move until i tell you.”
you were already whining softly, arching a little. “look at you,” he said, voice darker now. “do you want me to punish you for real?” you nodded, still on your hands and knees. “say it.”
“i want you to punish me.”
his palm landed on your ass in a sharp smack, not too hard but enough to make you gasp. “that’s what i thought.” his other hand slid between your thighs, fingers teasing just close enough to where you wanted him but not touching. “my little bunny likes acting up so she can get punished, huh?”
“yes—” you whispered, squirming under him.
“then stay still.” he pressed himself against you, his cock sliding along your folds but not pushing in yet, just rubbing enough to make you moan. “this is what happens when you’re bratty, pup. you get teased until you’re dripping. you want it now? want me to fuck you like this?”
“please,” you whined, pushing back a little.
he grabbed your hips hard. “ask properly.”
“please fuck me, please punish me,” you said, voice breaking.
he chuckled, low and rough. “good girl. now you’re talking.” he gave another slow thrust against you, still not entering, his fingers circling your clit. “tell me what you are.”
“i’m your pet,” you gasped.
“louder.”
“i’m your pet!”
he groaned at the sound, leaning down to speak right into your ear. “fuck yeah you are” his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he lined himself up, the tip of his cock pressing against you but still waiting, making you squirm even more. his smirk was audible in his voice. “now i’m gonna show you what happens when you’re bratty, pet.”
he slid forward suddenly, both hands gripping your hips hard enough to make you gasp. before you could whine another word he pushed your face down into the mattress, palm on the back of your head, making you arch with your ass up and your cheek pressed to the sheets. “this is where you belong when you’re acting like a brat,” he growled. “face down, ass up.” his other hand came down on your ass again, sharper this time, making you let out a choked moan.
you tried to lift your head but his palm kept you there. “stay down. don’t look at me. pets don’t look at their owner unless they’re told to.”
“fuckk—” you whimpered, voice muffled by the sheets.
he slammed the rest of the way in with one rough thrust, making you cry out against the mattress. “that’s it. take it. you’re just a little bunny for me to fuck, aren’t you?”
“yes—”
he started moving, rough thrusts, his hips slamming into you while his fingers dug into your skin. “fuck, listen to you,” he snarled between breaths. “whining like a toy. you like when i use you like this? you like being my bitch?” he gave another sharp slap to your ass, then slid his hand up to grab your hair, yanking your head back just enough to hear you gasp. “say it.”
“i like being your bitch—”
he groaned and slammed into you harder, his cock hitting deep, his hand still tangled in your hair, and his thrusts picked up pace, rough and unrelenting, his free hand sliding between your legs to circle your clit while he fucked you from behind. “you’re gonna cum when i tell you. until then you’re just a hole for me to use, you understand?” you whimpered something incoherent and he smirked, fingers still working your clit. “what? can’t even talk now? my little pet’s gone all dumb on my cock?”
“yes—” you managed to gasp, hips trembling.
he chuckled darkly and slid his other over until his thumb pressed against your asshole. he didn’t push, just rubbed in slow circles while still thrusting into you. the sound you made was almost a squeak. your hips jerked and he felt it immediately. he pushed a little harder with his thumb, still circling, testing. “ohhh,” he said low, voice heavy with amusement, “you like that too, huh?”
you buried your face in the sheets and nodded. “fucking dirty little puppy,” he growled, pressing his thumb a little deeper, then pulling back to circle again. “getting wet while i play with your ass. you’re so fucking filthy. is that what you want? you want me to fuck your ass too?”
“yes, fuck, jake—” you said again, voice high and shaking.
he leaned down, lips brushing your ear, thumb pressing just a bit harder. “fuck, you’re unreal. begging for more when you’re already full.” you whimpered again, hips pushing back against him without thinking. “tell me how bad you want it,” he ordered, his cock sliding slow inside you while his thumb teased your ass. “tell me you’re my dirty bunny and you want me to take you wherever i want.”
you gasped, “i want you to take me—please—”
“not enough,” he said, thrusting a little harder, his thumb pressing a little deeper. “say exactly what you want.”
“please use me, please fuck me—”
he smirked against your ear. “use you where?”
“fuck my pussy—please—”
“and?” he pressed.
“play with my ass—please—”
his laugh was low and sharp. “you’re fucking unreal.” his thrusts got faster, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room. his thumb slipped just inside your ass now, shallow, teasing, while his cock filled you completely.
“oh fuck—” you cried out, your voice cracking.
he pulled your head up by your hair, forcing you to arch your back. “look at you,” he muttered, “fucking begging to be filled from both sides. you’re my dirty little bunny, aren’t you?”
“yes,” you whined, “i’m your bunny, please—”
“what do you want now?”
“i want to cum,” you begged, voice shaking. “please, i need to—”
he slowed down, almost stopped, his thumb still moving at your ass. “you’re gonna cum when i say, pet. got it?”
“please,” you cried, hips trembling, “please let me—”
he leaned down to your ear, still holding your hair tight. “ask me right. say you want your owner to let you cum.”
you gasped, “please let me cum, please, please—”
his cock slammed into you again, hard enough to make you cry out. “again.”
“please let me cum,” you sobbed, “please let me cum—”
he finally lost it, his thumb pressing deeper, his cock pounding into you rough. “fuck, you’re so fucking perfect—cum. now. do it.”
you broke with a loud moan, your whole body shaking as you came around him, clenching so hard he had to grip your hips to hold you steady. he didn’t slow down, his thrusts got even rougher while you were still coming. his voice dropped low, almost a growl. “you like this, bunny? you want me to fill you too? want me to pump you full?”
you whimpered a weak “yes—” still trembling.
“say it right,” he said, still thrusting. “say you want me to breed you.”
“i want you to breed me,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “please fill me—”
he bit your shoulder lightly, his thumb still at your ass, his cock slamming into you harder and faster. “fuck—” he groaned, “keep saying it.”
“please breed me, please fill me up, i’m your puppy, please—”
he lost whatever control he had left. his hips snapped hard, one final thrust burying him deep inside you, his breath coming out as a rough moan. “fuck—” he hissed, his cock pulsing as he spilled into you, still grinding against you to push it deeper. he stayed there, pressed against your back, his hand still on your hair, his thumb still teasing your ass while he twitched inside you, panting against your ear. “good fucking girl,” he muttered, voice hoarse.
you were still shaking, whimpering quietly, your body soft under him. he kissed your shoulder once, still holding you there, still buried inside you. “you’re mine now,” he said, low. “so fuckingperfect.”
he stayed there for a while, and kissed the back of your neck, gently, slightly sliding off after a moment. he took off your collar while he still kissed your neck, and both of you went quiet, just breathing. it wasn’t heavy or awkward, it just felt like everything around had slowed down, just quiet in a way that felt right. jake moved first, reaching down to grab the sheet that had ended up at the foot of the bed at some point. he pulled it over you and ran his hand down your arm once, probably making sure you were okay without actually asking out loud yet.
you didn't say anything, just turned your head a little with your eyes half closed. he sat up and reached for his water bottle on the nightstand, the one he always kept there, and handed it to you without a word. you took a few sips and smiled at him, the kind of small tired smile that doesn't need explanation.
he was still catching his breath a little, looking at you like he was trying to process the last hour. it was one of those moments where he seemed caught between wanting to laugh at himself or just stare at the ceiling and think about his life choices. he let out a breath and said, "you good?" you nodded, and for a second neither of you moved or said anything. then he laughed, quiet and almost to himself. "i can't believe i get to do this with you."
you looked at him, a bit confused at first, then smiled. "what, the freaky stuff?"
"no," he said, shaking his head but still smiling. "i mean yeah, that too obviously. but i'm talking about all of it. i never thought i'd actually find someone who'd let me figure shit out without making it this whole weird thing, you know?"
you laughed and turned on your side to face him properly. "jake, we already did enough weird shit to last you the entire semester. i think you've figured plenty out."
"yeah i know," he said, laughing too. "but i'm being serious right now. you make it easy. i didn't know that was even possible with this stuff."
you grinned, half teasing him because that's just how you two worked. "you're getting all emotional on me now."
he grabbed a pillow and threw it at you playfully, and you caught it against your chest while laughing. "shut up," he said. "i'm trying to have a moment here."
"you're doing great," you said, your voice still light but a little softer.
he smiled for real then, the kind of smile that takes over his whole face even when he's trying to play it cool. he leaned over and kissed your forehead, staying there for a second with his hand resting on your side. "just tell me if anything ever gets too much, alright? like anything at all. i don't want to fuck this up."
you nodded, and there was a pause before you said, "you won't. i'd tell you if something was wrong."
that seemed to settle something in him. he laid back down, one arm behind his head and the other still draped over you. the room was quiet except for the sound of the sheets whenever either of you shifted around. you laughed out of nowhere, and he turned his head to look at you with his eyebrows drawn together like he was trying to figure out what was funny. "what?"
"nothing," you said, still smiling. "you just look like you're overthinking again."
he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, then looked back at you. "yeah, i was just thinking about something. i don't ever want to be too rough with you or whatever."
you blinked, a little surprised he was bringing that up now, then smiled. "jake, it's fine. i like it. you know i like it."
“yeah, i know,” he said quickly, his thumb brushing your arm while he talked. “but i don’t want you to think that’s all this is. that i just want that.”
you turned your head toward him, eyes narrowing slightly. “it’s not?”
he frowned, confused that you even had to ask. “no, of course not.”
you stared at him for a second, quiet, and it was the kind of silence where you both realized you might not have been on the same page about this whole thing. he kept tracing these light patterns on your shoulder with his fingers and said, "i mean yeah, i wanted to try stuff and experiment or whatever. but i don't want you thinking i'm just using you for it. that's not what's happening here." you looked down for a second, feeling a little embarrassed but also not really knowing what to say to that. he reached up and tilted your chin with his hand so you'd look at him again. "you know i could hook up with literally anyone else if it was just about trying shit out, right?"
you rolled your eyes and laughed. "okay yeah, i get it. you're very popular and desired."
he smiled but shook his head. "that's not what i'm trying to say."
you laughed again, softer this time and less defensive. "i know."
he watched your face for a moment and said quietly, "do you want to talk about it?"
"only if you want to talk about it," you said, your voice smaller but honest.
and then neither of you said anything for a full minute. it was funny in that awkward sort of normal way, like both of you knew this was one of those conversations that could get too serious too fast, and you were just tiptoeing around it. he started messing with the edge of the sheet and you started tracing random shapes on his arm with your finger, both of you obviously thinking about the exact same thing but pretending to be casual about it.
here's the thing though: jake had started catching feelings for you at some point, it just happened. it wasn't just about the sex anymore, and honestly it maybe never was from the start. he liked that you didn't treat him like he was this thing people whispered about at parties or like he was someone's weird project. you just looked at him like he was a regular person trying to figure himself out, not like he was some reputation that walked around campus. you made him feel like it was okay to be curious and mess up and not have everything figured out right away.
he looked at you again and said, "you okay?" and you nodded, smiling just a little, like you both understood that things were different now but neither of you wanted to ruin the moment by saying too much too soon. he leaned in and kissed your forehead again, even softer this time, and you laughed under your breath.
so you ended up staying there the whole next day. it wasn't really planned or discussed, you both just didn't mention leaving and it made sense to stay. he tossed you one of his shirts when you went to take a shower, this soft worn out one he always slept in, and he grinned like an idiot when you came out wearing it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
you ordered food later because neither of you felt like cooking anything, and he made this whole big production out of picking a place even though he always ended up choosing the same korean spot every time. he let you take the last dumpling and then spent ten minutes complaining about it just to keep the joke going. by the time it got dark outside, there was still some movie playing in the background that neither of you were really watching, and you'd ended up half asleep on his chest while he scrolled through his phone with one hand and rubbed these slow circles on your arm with the other.
it was all very normal and kind of domestic, which was weird because this was jake, the guy who never really stuck around with anyone for more than a night or two. but there he was, asking if you wanted water every twenty minutes and telling you to stop thanking him so much for every little thing.
heeseung and sunghoon had gone out that night, which honestly made everything easier. jake mentioned they'd probably get back late, and they did. you heard the front door open at some point but by then you were already half asleep in his bed with his arm around you, both of you pretending not to hear them trying and failing to whisper in the hallway.
the next morning though, that's when it got funny. you woke up first and stole one of jake's hoodies because the place was freezing, then went to make coffee in the kitchen. sunghoon walked in first with his hair going everywhere and his eyes barely open, and he just stood there for a second staring at you like his brain was buffering.
"morning," you said, trying to act completely normal while pouring coffee into a mug.
he blinked a few times, pointed at the hoodie you were wearing, and said, "is that jake's?"
before you could even answer, jake walked in behind him, yawning and scratching the back of his neck. "yeah, what about it?"
sunghoon just started laughing, but it was that disbelieving kind of laugh. "nothing man, just wow. didn't think i'd ever see this day actually happen."
later that day you headed back to your place, jake drove you back. he kissed you before you got out of his car, one of those slow ones that made you both smile after, and then when you got inside your dorm, he stood there in the parking lot like an idiot, watching you get in.
the thing was, after that morning, jake couldn't get you out of his head. and not just in the way he'd been thinking about you before, when it was mostly about wanting to try things or wondering what you'd be like. now it was different, now it was everything.
he'd be sitting in class, supposedly paying attention to some lecture about marketing strategies or whatever, and instead he'd be thinking about the way you'd smiled at him that morning when you handed him his coffee. or he'd be at the gym with sunghoon, mid set, and suddenly he'd remember the way you laughed when he made some dumb joke, and he'd lose count of his reps. he'd remember your moans, then he had to immediately shut that thought away because he didn't want to get hard in front of his gym bro.
"dude, you good?" sunghoon asked him one afternoon, watching jake stare at his phone for the third time in ten minutes.
"yeah, why?"
"you've been weird all week," sunghoon said, setting down his weights. "you keep smiling at your phone like a psycho."
jake shoved his phone in his pocket. "i'm not smiling."
"you literally were just smiling."
"shut up."
but sunghoon wasn't wrong. jake was down bad, and he knew it. the problem was he didn't know what to do about it. you two hadn't really talked about what you were doing, if this was just experimenting or if it was more than that. and jake, who usually never cared about labels or definitions, suddenly found himself wanting to know.
he thought about texting you constantly. not even anything important, just random shit like "what are you doing" or "did you eat today" but he didn't want to seem clingy. except he kind of was being clingy, because every time his phone buzzed he hoped it was you, and when it wasn't, he felt weirdly disappointed.
it got worse at night. he'd lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, and his brain would just replay everything. the way you looked in his hoodie, the way you fit perfectly under his arm, the way you'd kissed him goodbye. and yeah, of course he thought about the freaky sex too, but it wasn't just that anymore. he wanted to wake up next to you again, wanted to make you coffee, wanted to hear you laugh at his stupid jokes.
"i think i'm fucked," he said out loud to his empty room one night, and then laughed at himself because yeah, he definitely was.
by thursday, he'd seen you twice on campus. once you were walking with chaewon and you'd waved at him, that bright smile that made his chest feel tight, and he'd waved back trying to act normal. the second time you were sitting in the library and he'd sat down next to you without asking, and you'd just looked up, smiled, and went back to your laptop like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"you're distracting me," you'd said after a while, not looking up.
"i'm not doing anything."
"you're breathing loud."
he'd laughed, quiet so he wouldn't get shushed by the librarian. "sorry, i'll stop breathing."
you'd looked at him then, that little smirk on your face. "don't be dramatic." and he'd stayed there for an hour, pretending to study but really just sitting next to you, and when you finally packed up your stuff, he'd walked you to your next class even though his was in the opposite direction.
friday night, the guys wanted to go to some party, but jake wasn't really feeling it. he was lying on his bed, scrolling through unhinged instagram reels, when heeseung knocked on his door. "you coming or what?"
"nah, i'm tired."
heeseung raised an eyebrow. "you? tired of a party? since when?"
"since now."
"does this have anything to do with y/n?"
jake looked up at him. "what about her?"
heeseung grinned. "nothing. just seems like you've been in your head a lot lately." he paused, then added, "she's cool, by the way. i like her."
"yeah," jake said, looking back at his phone. "me too."
"then maybe stop being weird about it and just tell her that."
after heeseung left, jake stared at his phone for a solid five minutes before finally opening your messages.
[jake]: you doing anything tonight
you answered almost immediately.
[you]: was gonna watch a movie probably why
[jake]: can i come over
[you]: sure :))
so the thing is, jake wasn’t planning anything when he texted you. like, actually nothing. he just wanted to see you, sit around, maybe talk, maybe not. that was it. except, obviously, his brain didn’t get the memo. because the second you said “sure :)” he was already pacing around his room like an idiot, thinking about what shirt to wear, and then laughing at himself because why the hell did it matter what shirt he wore if this wasn’t a date.
he kept telling himself it wasn’t like that – that he wasn’t going over to hook up or whatever. so there he was, caught somewhere between i just wanna hang out and oh god what if i end up wrapping a collar on her neck again, and honestly, it was ridiculous.
the problem was, jake had never really done this before. not the whole “liking someone” thing, at least not in a way that made him feel this normal, it was messing him up. his chest hurt sometimes, but in a good way, and it annoyed him how much he liked it. he wasn’t used to missing people. usually, when things ended, they ended. easy. but with you, it was different. he was basically down bad and self aware enough to hate it.
he couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. gone to see someone just to be around them. it had been years, maybe never. he wanted to be near you, which felt ridiculous for someone who used to brag about never catching feelings.
somewhere between grabbing his keys and pulling on his hoodie, he had this thought that made him stop and laugh. maybe this was his actual kink. not any of the stuff he'd spent hours googling at three in the morning or reading about on reddit. his real kink was apparently just wanting to spend time with you. no expectations, no plan, just you existing in the same room as him. which was possibly the lamest thing he'd ever admitted to himself, but also kind of true.
and for jake, that was kind of terrifying. because yeah, he’d done a lot of freaky things, but this? catching feelings? this was new level freaky. he had no idea what the next step was. he didn’t know how to play it cool, didn’t know what it meant if he just wanted to hang out, didn’t even know if you felt the same. all he knew was that when you said sure :) he felt something warm in his chest that no amount of hookups ever gave him.
so he got in his car, sat there for a second with his hands on the steering wheel, and said, “this is so stupid,” before driving anyway. because no matter how dumb he felt, he knew he’d rather feel dumb next to you than cool anywhere else.
when jake showed up at your dorm, he didn’t really know what he was expecting. maybe he thought you’d tease him for getting there so fast, or that you’d joke about him being obsessed, which, honestly, wouldn’t have been wrong. but when you opened the door, hair a little messy, wearing some oversized hoodie and cute kuromi socks, he just smiled. it was automatic, the kind of smile that happened before he could even think about it.
you went back to the couch and sat down, pulling your legs under you, while he hovered for a second like he didn’t know where to sit. then he just dropped next to you, close enough that your shoulders brushed. “so,” you said, turning toward him. “did you come here for a reason?”
he looked at you for a second before answering. “i just wanted to see you.”
you raised your eyebrows, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “that’s it?”
“yeah,” he said, and that was the truth. he shrugged a little, but his hand found your thigh without even thinking, resting there gently like it belonged. “that’s it.”
you didn’t say anything right away, but your smile softened. you leaned back into the couch, and he followed your movement like gravity. it wasn’t even about anything physical; he just couldn’t help it. his arm went around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. it was clingy, yeah, but he wasn’t trying to hide it.
you picked up the remote, flipped through netflix for a while, and he watched you instead of the screen. it was stupid, but he couldn’t help paying attention to the small things, like the way you curled your toes under the blanket, how you made tiny comments about every movie title you didn’t like, how you’d glance at him now and then with that small knowing look like you could tell he wasn’t really watching. “you’re not paying attention,” you said, side eyeing him.
“i am,” he said, though he definitely wasn’t.
“what’s the movie about, then?”
he paused. “uh… friendship?”
you laughed, shaking your head. “it’s twilight, dumbass.”
he grinned, leaning in until his chin was resting against your head. “yeah, but maybe there’s still friendship in there somewhere.”
you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t push him away. he stayed there, arm heavy around you, tracing lazy lines with his fingers on your arm. it wasn’t like him to be this still, this soft, but he didn’t really care. after a while, you said quietly, “you’re weirdly touchy today.”
“you don’t like it?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you.
you thought about it, lips pressed together like you were pretending to consider it. “i didn’t say that.”
“so you do like it,” he said, smirking.
“maybe,” you said, eyes still on the screen. he chuckled and leaned in closer, his nose brushing the top of your head, smelling you. you didn’t move away, just sighed in that way that said you were pretending to be annoyed. his hand stayed resting on your leg, thumb brushing back and forth like a small habit. you glanced at him again and said, “you know you don’t have to act all sweet just to hang out, right?”
he smiled, soft but sure. “i’m not acting.”
you gave him that look, the one that was amused but skeptical, but you didn’t push it. instead, you leaned into him more, your head finding its way to his chest. he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. everything felt slower here, quieter. he liked it more than he’d admit out loud.
later, when you started talking about random things, the class you hated, how the dining hall food was getting worse, how sunoo accidentally set off the dorm alarm again, jake listened like every word mattered. he didn’t even try to hide the smile that kept showing up on his face. and if anyone asked him what that night was, he wouldn’t have known how to describe it. it wasn’t a date, it wasn’t anything official. it was just him and you, a blanket, twilight rants (jake laughed his ass off), and a weird sense that something about all this felt new.
after a while the movie was still on but neither of you were really watching anymore. you were warm under the blanket, leaning against him, and he felt your breathing slow down a little. his own eyes were heavy but he didn’t want to move, not when you felt that close. eventually though you stretched, yawned, and mumbled that your neck was starting to hurt from sitting like that. he nodded and followed you when you got up, both of you kind of quiet but in that easy, comfortable way.
your bed was small, definitely not made for two people, but you didn’t even have to ask him to join you. he slipped in right behind you, pulling you close without hesitation. it was a little awkward with all the shifting around, but once you were both settled under your blanket, it just felt natural.
he tucked his chin against your shoulder, one arm wrapped tight around your waist. you stayed like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe, the silence stretching out in a way that didn’t feel heavy. then he said, voice low like he wasn’t sure if he should break the quiet, “i wanted to see you tonight. that’s all.”
you turned your head slightly, trying to look at him. “i know,” you said softly. “i can tell.”
he let out a small laugh, kind of embarrassed. “good. because i didn’t… like, i wasn’t coming here expecting anything. i just wanted to hang out. i like being around you.”
you felt your chest warm at that, even if you tried not to show it too much. “you’re being really sweet right now.”
“yeah, don’t get used to it,” he teased, then got quiet again. his fingers started tracing light patterns on your stomach, like he couldn’t sit still. “can i be honest about something?”
“always,” you said.
he hesitated, then said, “you know how we’ve been messing around… i really like it, what we're exploring, i don't know.” he laughed at the way he said it, but kept going. “more than i thought i would.”
you blinked, but you didn’t pull away. “okay,” you said, keeping your tone even. “you can just say that. it’s not weird.”
“i know,” he said quickly. “i just don’t want it to sound like that’s the only reason i’m here, because it’s not. i figured it’s better to say this out loud instead of keeping it in my head.”
you nodded slowly. “that makes sense. so what about it do you like?”
he smiled a little, though you couldn’t see it. “the control. the way you look at me when i push you like that. it’s… i don’t know. i didn’t think i’d be into it this much, but i am. and i think i want to explore more of it, but only if you’re into it too.”
you thought about it for a second, then said, “i am. i like it too. and i like that you’re saying this, actually. it makes it easier for me to tell you what i like.”
he squeezed your waist gently. “yeah? tell me, then.”
you turned a little so you could face him better, your noses almost brushing in the dark. “i like when you call me names, but not just mean ones. like, the pet stuff feels… i don’t know, kind of comforting? even when you’re rough. it makes me feel close to you.”
his eyes softened. “that’s good. i want you to feel that way. i don’t want it to ever cross a line where it feels bad.”
“it doesn’t,” you said quickly. “and if it ever did, i’d tell you. but i like that you’re not afraid to be rough and that you pay attention when i push back. it feels balanced, you know?”
he nodded, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “that’s what i want. i don’t want it to just be me getting what i want. i want it to be both of us, figuring it out together.”
“that’s what this is,” you said. “we’re figuring it out.”
he smiled at that, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your temple. “you make it sound easy.”
“it is easy,” you said, settling back against him.
he wrapped you up tighter, holding you close enough that you could feel his heartbeat against your back. “okay, then here’s me being honest again,” he said after a pause. “i’ve never really done this before. not just the kink part, but… like, the after part. i’ve hooked up, i’ve tried stuff, but actually wanting to stay after, wanting to come over just to watch movies? that’s new. and -- it scares me a little.”
you reached back and laced your fingers with his. “i think that’s fine. it doesn’t have to be figured out all at once.”
he exhaled like that was what he needed to hear. “thanks. i… i really like this, i mean.”
you smiled into the dark. “i like this too, jakey.”
for a while neither of you said anything else. his hand stayed tangled with yours, his body warm against yours. you shifted a little, not because you were uncomfortable but because you wanted to see him. when you turned in his arms, he loosened his hold just enough to let you face him, your noses close in the dark. he blinked at you like he hadn’t expected you to move, and for a moment the only thing either of you did was look at each other.
you reached up and brushed your fingers along his jaw, soft and slow. he leaned into your touch without thinking, like it was natural. then you kissed him, and it wasn’t rushed or hungry, not the way you’d kissed before when things were heated and messy. this one was tentative at first, a press of lips that lingered, both of you testing the space.
he kissed you back just as carefully, almost shy in the way he moved his mouth against yours. his hand came up to the side of your face, his thumb rubbing small circles near your temple. it stayed like that for a while, slow and steady, until you tilted your head and opened to him a little more. the change was small but he noticed right away, kissing you deeper, still unhurried but with more intent.
he pulled back just a fraction, enough to whisper, “you feel so good,” before kissing you again.
the warmth built gradually. every time you moved your lips against his, every little sound you made, it drew him in further. he shifted closer until his chest pressed to yours, until there was no real space left between you. you hooked your hand into the collar of his hoodie, pulling him down when he tried to lift his head. when he finally rolled forward, easing his weight over you, it was careful. he braced one arm beside your head so he wouldn’t crush you, letting you feel the solid press of him without it being too much. your legs brushed his, your hands sliding up into his hair, and the kiss turned heavier but not rushed.
he pulled back again, just slightly, breathing against your lips. “you’re perfect,” he said quietly, and it didn’t sound like a line. it sounded like he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.
you kissed him again, harder this time, and he let out a low sound, moving with you, his body lowering a little more until his hips were pressed to yours. still, his pace stayed gentle. every movement was patient, every kiss followed by another, his mouth moving from your lips to your cheek, down to your jaw, then back up like he couldn’t get enough but didn’t want to rush.
“you’re so good to me,” he murmured against your skin, kissing the corner of your mouth again. “i don’t even know if you realize how much.”
your chest tightened at that, and you held him closer, wrapping your arms around him fully now. he pressed his forehead to yours, smiling a little. “i think i could get used to this,” you said, giggling.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
“yeah…” you said again, softer this time.
next thing you knew, it was the next morning. sunlight sneaking through your blinds, the both of you tangled up under your blanket, very obviously naked. the night before hadn’t been about roleplay or collars or anything wild. just you and him, a lot of kissing, a lot of laughing in between, and, well, some very unconventional sex. unconventional in the sense that it felt so unplanned and sweet, but also somehow clumsy in a way that made jake whisper “fuck, this might be the best sex i’ve ever had” against your shoulder while you both tried not to laugh.
you both had class that day, but when your alarms went off, you just looked at each other, groaned at the thought of moving, and made a joint decision to skip. you didn’t even say it out loud, jake just reached over, turned off your phone, and pulled you closer.
the day turned into this weird mix of domestic and ridiculous. you made instant noodles together in your dorm kitchen, him insisting he was the “chef” even though he literally almost forgot to put water in the pot. you ended up watching some more twilight movies on your laptop while lying in bed, and he kept pausing it every ten minutes to ask, “wait, so who’s this guy again?” even though you’d explained three times already.
somewhere in the middle of all this, jake got curious and started testing out “soft” versions of kinks he hadn’t gotten around to yet. nothing serious, more like experiments. at one point he asked if he could blindfold you, then immediately ruined it by laughing because he tied it too tight and you complained you couldn’t breathe. another time, he asked if you’d let him feed you chocolate with his hands while calling you “princess,” and you went along with it until you both started laughing so hard the chocolate melted everywhere. he even half joked about barking for you, even though he was actually being very serious.
the point was: it was fun. it wasn’t serious or heavy. just you two being idiots together, seeing what worked, what didn’t, and realizing that sometimes the kinkiest thing was just how easy it felt to try with each other.
when night rolled around, he finally had to leave, which turned into a whole production. you walked him to the door, and he kept stalling like he forgot something: first his phone, then his hoodie, then his keys, even though they were all in his hand. every time you leaned in to give him a goodbye kiss, he found an excuse to kiss you again, until it was basically ten minutes of nonstop kisses.
“okay, i really have to go now,” he said at least four times, and yet he was still standing there, thumb brushing your jaw.
“you’ve said that already,” you pointed out, laughing.
“yeah, but i mean it this time,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again. when he finally pulled back, his voice dropped a little softer. “i had a really good time, you know. like… today. all of it.”
you smiled, brushing his messy hair out of his face. “me too.”
jake kissed your forehead, then your lips one last time, and finally walked out the door. and of course, thirty seconds later, you got a text from him: miss you already.
so obviously you told sunoo about it. what was going on between you and jake. and of course he freaked out, because that’s sunoo. he gasped so loud you had to shush him before someone else heard, then he grabbed your pillow and started smacking you with it, yelling things like i knew it! i knew he liked you! until you had to bribe him with snacks to calm down.
and the thing was, you didn’t even know what you wanted to call it. you’d always kind of liked jake, but in that he’s hot but he’s also kind of an idiot and will probably break my heart kind of way. he’d always been the friend who didn’t take things seriously, the one you swore you’d never catch feelings for because, well, you didn’t want to get hurt. so you built this wall around yourself, kept reminding yourself this was casual, just fun. and you decided you weren’t going to put any labels on it unless jake said he wanted to.
meanwhile, across town, jake had just gotten back to his place. he kicked off his sneakers, flopped down on his bed, stared at the ceiling for a solid five minutes, then pulled out his phone. and, naturally, he opened reddit.
he's typing out a draft for r/Relationship_Advice. the title says friends with benefits situationship except i don't wanna be just friends and i wanna be her pet instead. he’s mid sentence writing about how you wear stupid kuromi socks that distract him way too much, when he decides to scroll the subreddit first.
and then he sees a post. a post that sounds… exactly like you.
r/RelationshipAdvice
u/KeroppiNumber1Lover | 2h
am i overthinking this or is my fwb secretly my boyfriend?
okay so i (24f) have been friends with this guy (23m) for a long time. we were just friends until maybe a month or two ago when he came to me asking for advice about kinks. he remembered i once did that bdsm test thing for fun and thought i’d know more than him, and he wanted to “try some stuff out” and i said fine, why not?? we trust each other, no big deal. so we started hooking up and trying some of those things together.
except now it doesn’t feel like we’re just testing things anymore, it’s different. he still jokes around a lot but when we hang out, it’s not always about sex. sometimes he comes over and we just sit there watching dumb movies. last time we spent hours making fun of twilight together and it was TOO fun. he also keeps doing these little things like he brought me coffee one morning just because???? and then played it off like it wasn’t anything and when i told him i was stressed he hugged me for so long i thought my back would crackkkk sirrrrr that is not fwb behavior omg
the problem is he is kind of known for hooking up with a lot of people in college?? not in a bad way just he never seemed serious with anyone. he’s always been the type i wouldn’t trust to water my plants because he’d probably forget after one day so i’m scared i’ll be stupid if i start to catch feelings for him. but i think i already am?? i do like him, i just don’t know if he feels the same or if this is just me overthinking it. should i say something, or keep my guard up until he says something first?
jake is lying there in bed with his phone basically falling onto his face. he blinks at the screen, rereads it once, then again. “nah… no way. it can’t be… can it??”
then he hits the part about the bdsm test. his brain short circuits. because he did ask that. he literally asked that. he scrolls faster, sees the twilight part, the coffee, the hug. every line feels like a receipt against him. it’s not even subtle. he groans into his pillow. “oh my god. this is literally about me.” then he makes the mistake of reading the comments.
comment 1: “girl if he used to be a fuckboy, protect your heart.”
jake, out loud, also typed: “I WASN’T EVEN THAT BAD. jesus. can y’all move on??”
comment 2: “sounds like you’re already dating, just without the title. either lock it down or walk away.”
jake: “ok see?? finally someone with a brain. pin this comment.”
comment 3: “guys like that just want comfort without commitment. don’t fall for it.”
jake, furious: “i literally brought her coffee at 8am and watched twilight for her. TWILIGHT. what more commitment do you want??”
comment 4: “if he’s treating you like a gf, he probably thinks of you as one already.”
→ jake: “YES. thank you random internet genius. i love you.”
comment 5: “say something before it drags on. if he’s serious, he’ll say yes. if not, at least you’ll know.”
he sighs. “okay. yeah. fine. i get it. i’ll say something. god.”
he ends up throwing his phone down on the bed and just staring at the ceiling, feeling like the universe is laughing at him. like, of all places, reddit?? that’s where he finds out you’re basically calling him your “maybe-boyfriend”?
but deep down, even while he’s cringing at strangers dissecting his love life, he can’t help smiling. because at least now he knows he’s not the only one catching feelings.
so after doomscrolling reddit for like an hour and basically convincing himself he was the main character in your post, jake sat there and thought, ok i can’t just do nothing. he wanted to make a move, but not the usual dumb moves he always made. he started running through everything he knew you liked. movies. you had a letterboxd longer than a textbook, always roasting his “basic” taste but still making him watch stuff with you. sanrio. you had those socks on, like, every time he came over. your little chococat keychain was hanging off your bag right now. the oversized hoodies you lived in. your pc setup that he still couldn’t get over because he never struck you as a gamer, but then he walked into your dorm that one time and saw a glowing pastel keyboard with little frog stickers on it.
he kept trying to figure out: how do i surprise her? he thought about showing up in a full hello kitty hoodie (terrible idea), maybe making you watch every twilight movie in one sitting (he’d die), or even buying you some dumb sanrio plush and pretending he didn’t spend hours looking for it. none of it felt right.
a few days later he was sitting on the floor while heeseung was baked out of his mind, button mashing fifa with sunghoon. jake was half talking to himself when he muttered, “i just… i don’t know how to ask her without making it weird.”
heeseung, not looking up from the screen, said, “why don’t you just ask her out like a normal person.” jake stared at him. “yeah, like, words. say them. ‘do you wanna go out.’ boom.”
sunghoon snorted. “crazy concept.”
jake groaned, but in the end he thought, maybe they’re right. maybe you’d actually take it well.
so the next day, he pulled the dumbest move possible. he memorized your class schedule. you were sitting in one of your electives, sunoo on one side of you, when jake just strolled in and sat down on the other side. no notebook, no laptop, not even pretending. he just leaned back in the chair like he belonged there.
you blinked at him, whispering, “what are you doing here? you don’t even take this class.”
sunoo leaned forward across you, eyes narrowed. “yeah, what are you doing here?”
jake ignored him completely and looked at you, his voice low. “are you free tonight?”
you laughed quietly, shaking your head. “yeah… why? wanna come over?” you asked, teasing him before he could answer.
but jake shook his head, smiling a little. “actually, i’ve been thinking about taking you out.”
sunoo raised his brows, looking back and forth between you two like he was watching a live drama unfold. you just bit back another laugh, a little caught off guard but also clearly not against it. “okay,” you said softly. “where?”
he hadn’t actually planned that far, but he quickly blurted, “there’s this restaurant off campus. i heard it’s good.” it wasn’t fancy, but it was nice enough that it felt like a real step up from eating cup noodles in your dorm.
you tilted your head, still smiling. “so… a date?”
jake nodded, trying not to look as nervous as he felt. “yeah. a date.”
you tilted your head a little, smiling. “yeah, that sounds nice.”
and in his brain, jake basically blacked out. oh my god she said yes we’re going on a date holy shit this is happening. he wanted to fist pump the air like an idiot but instead he just sat there nodding like it was no big deal. he mumbled something about texting you later, then immediately packed up and left the classroom before sunoo could say a word.
the second he stepped out, he pulled out his phone and typed “she said yes” into his notes app like he needed proof it actually happened. then he drove home and told himself to stay calm. he was not calm. he tore through his closet, tried on three different shirts, showered twice, searched “best first date outfits men” on pinterest. eventually he gave up and picked the cleanest shirt he had, some jeans, and sneakers that didn’t look like they’d been through war.
when he went to pick you up, you opened the door and jake’s brain short circuited again. you weren’t overdressed, you just looked nice. too nice for him, he thought. your hair, your perfume, the way you smiled at him, it all hit him at once. he immediately leaned in for a quick peck, lingering a little too long, his hand sliding down to your waist like he couldn’t help himself. “you look really good,” he blurted.
you smirked. “you too.”
the restaurant was this little italian place just off campus. dim lighting, small tables with candles, the kind of spot people actually go to for dates. he held the door for you, pulled your chair out, doing all the things he never thought he’d actually do. the conversation was easy. you both ordered pasta, and while waiting for the food you ended up talking about random stuff, laughing over the couple next to you who were obviously on a bad date, debating which twilight movie was the worst one.
“new moon,” you said confidently.
“nah, eclipse,” jake argued, shaking his head. “that one fight scene was garbage.”
“you laughed the entire time.”
“exactly. it was trash.”
the food came and you both dug in, joking about how unromantic it was to slurp spaghetti. at one point you teased him about how “un-jake” it was for him to plan something like this, and he shrugged with a small grin, admitting, “yeah well… i wanted to do it right.”
after dinner, he drove you back, and when he parked outside your dorm, the air in the car felt a little heavier, charged but not exactly awkward. he glanced at you, smiling. “you know, i had so much fun today.”
“me too,” you said, meeting his eyes.
jake leaned in and kissed you, slow and sweet, his hand finding your cheek. when he pulled back, he looked at you for a second, then smirked. “even though you’re calling me your maybe-boyfriend on reddit.”
you froze. “what— oh my god. you read that??”
he laughed, nodding. “yeah. it popped up. i knew it was you.”
you covered your face with your hands, groaning. “i’m gonna actually die.”
he gently pulled your hands down, kissing your palm, still grinning. “no, don’t worry, i liked it. i even went through the comments. i might’ve called a girl an idiot for saying you should protect yourself from fuckboys.”
“you argued with strangers about it?”
“yep. full on fighting in the replies. i was on your side, by the way.”
you shook your head, laughing. “you were on your side!”
he kissed your cheek, still laughing, softer this time. “maybe. but i like being your maybe-boyfriend.”
you kind of froze when he said it, like it took your brain a second to actually process. your face went a little hot and you looked down, suddenly shy. he noticed right away and leaned in a little closer, still holding your hand. “hey, don’t freak out. i like you. i’m not trying to rush anything, i swear.” you blinked, trying to figure out what to say, and he kept going before you could answer. “like, i know this was supposed to be a friends with benefits thing, right? but every time i’m with you i feel like… i don’t know. like i’m the one chasing you. and i keep calling you my pet in bed, but it kinda feels like i’m your dog instead.”
that made you laugh, like actually laugh out loud, and he smiled because you finally looked at him again. “you’re ridiculous,” you said, still laughing.
“yeah, but i’m serious. i don’t wanna be just friends.” he squeezed your hand and added, a little softer, “i want more than that.”
you let out a small sigh, still smiling but definitely nervous too. “i like being with you. i like you, jake. i just… didn’t know if you felt the same.”
“well, i do.”
your face lit up immediately. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
you smiled tenderly and that was all he needed. he leaned across the console, kissed you again, deeper this time, his hand cupping your cheek while you kissed him back. it was sweet and warm and a little desperate, the kind of kiss that made it pretty clear neither of you were just “friends” anymore.
so the whole week after that, jake was basically living in boyfriend mode without even saying he was, but oh boy, he was. like, he was picking you up from class just because he “happened to be around,” but then he’d have your favorite snack waiting in the car. you two started having this dumb little routine of going grocery shopping together, and he’d put random stuff in the cart just to see you roll your eyes and then sneak it back when you weren’t looking.
at night, he’d call you even if you’d already spent the whole day together. sometimes he’d just be lying in his bed, rambling about whatever, and then suddenly go quiet like he realized how much he liked hearing you breathe on the other end. he’d come over to yours a lot too, and half the time sunoo would be there making fun of him for being “clingy as hell.” jake didn’t even deny it anymore, he was too busy following you around your own place like a golden retriever.
but there was one night where he was acting especially wild. like, from the second he saw you, he couldn’t stop touching you. his hand on your back, his arm around your waist, kissing your shoulder while you were just trying to make popcorn. he looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were actually there with him, which, to be fair, was how he felt most of the time.
you noticed, of course. you kept laughing at how clingy he was being, but he just smirked like he didn’t even care if he was obvious. he leaned in close while you were sitting on the couch, his voice lower than usual. “you know,” he said, fingers brushing over your knee, “i kinda wanna try something different with you.” you tilted your head at him, curious, and he grinned, eyes way too mischievous. “don’t freak out, i’ll explain. but i promise you’re gonna like it.”
later that night, you were in his bedroom, and the whole house was quiet. jake was in one of his moods, where he couldn’t keep his mouth off you. he kissed along your neck, your shoulders, down your chest like he was trying to memorize every bit of you. his hands were slow but firm, holding you in place like you were something he wanted to worship. every time you made the slightest sound, he murmured praise into your skin, all soft but teasing. you looked at him, a little out of breath, and asked, “what is it you wanted to try?” your voice was curious, and that made him grin even wider, like he’d been waiting for you to ask.
he sat back on his knees, eyes glued to you, and said, “i got you something. a little toy.” the way he said it was too casual, like he wasn’t basically throwing gasoline on the fire. “thought it’d suit my puppy.”
the second he called you that, you slipped into it without even thinking. you tilted your head at him, playful, already slipping into that pet energy he loved so much. your hands curled against the sheets like paws, and you looked at him with wide, eager eyes. jake chuckled low, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “see? there she is. my good girl.” he leaned down and kissed you again, slower this time, almost smug at how naturally you fell into the role. “you’re gonna let me try it on you, right?”
the way you nodded instantly made him laugh against your mouth. “of course you will. my puppy always listens.” he kept praising you in between kisses, dragging his hands down your sides, his voice soft but dripping with control.
he reached over to his nightstand, opening the drawer like he was trying to be casual about it, but you could see the way his hands hesitated for a second. jake pulled something out, set it on the bed next to you, and for a moment he almost looked shy. it was a buttplug with a soft little tail attached, and he rubbed the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure if he’d just ruined the mood.
“i, uh… got this for you,” he admitted, glancing at your face quickly, testing your reaction. “it might be a little… freaky. i wasn’t sure if you’d even wanna try it.”
but you didn’t flinch. instead, you smiled at him in that way that always made him feel like his chest was on fire. “i want to try whatever you want to, jakey.”the second you said that, something in his head clicked, the nerves melted into pure want. his whole body reacted before his brain caught up.
he let out a low laugh, shaking his head, but you could see how much hotter he suddenly looked at you. “you’re… insane, you know that? i bring this out and instead of running you’re saying yes. fuck. my perfect puppy.”
he kissed you hard then, deeper than before, one hand cradling your jaw like you were something fragile even while his words were all possession. he left the tail sitting on the pillow beside you, within sight, like a promise for later. “you’re already so good for me,” he kept murmuring against your skin as he started peeling your clothes off piece by piece. every time a new inch of you was bare, he touched it, kissed it, praised it. “beautiful… all mine… such a good girl for me.”
his hands roamed like he couldn’t decide where to stay, gripping your hips, sliding up your ribs, tracing along your thighs. his voice stayed low but steady, every praise making you sink further into the role he loved. “you’re my puppy,” he whispered against your stomach as he kissed lower. “you listen, you let me take care of you, and you make me want you more than anything.”
he stayed there for a second, breathing against your skin. jake looked up at you, and there was that look again, the one he’d had when he showed up in your class, when he asked you out, when he kissed you in the car after dinner.
“you know,” he said, voice softer now but still a little teasing, “when i first started this… all i wanted was to mess around. try things. have fun. i didn’t think it’d turn into… this.” he gestured between the two of you, a small huff of laughter escaping. “you’ve got me completely gone.”
you reached out, brushing his hair back, laughing, “i like being yours. i wanna be yours”. and he exhaled like he’d been holding it in for weeks.
he kissed you then, slow, warm, but still a little desperate. when he stopped, he smiled so wide it almost broke his face, and whispered, “good. because i don’t wanna be just friends. i wanna be yours too.”
the toy stayed on the pillow, forgotten for now. just the two of you, finally admitting what everyone probably already knew.
!! ronnie's notes: i can’t believe i finally finished this fic 😭 i actually started writing it back in june and for some reason it took me forever to get it done lmaoo mostly bc i really wanted to take my time with it and make it feel right. i’ve been planning to post it for kinktober since literally junee, so the fact that i’m managing to post it before october ends feels kinda unreal 😭 this is actually my third kinktober fic this year, i also posted one for jake (which was technically for a sabrina carpenter album collab but it counts 😭) and one for soobin that i wrote like a million years ago. but this one was the fic i’d been planning for kinktober since the beginning, so she’s special to me!!! anyway, i really hope you guys like it. thank you for reading and for sticking around <3
engineering major!jake x nursing student fem!reader
୨୧ genre: strangers to implied lovers, mostly angst & smut, MDNI | words: 17.3k | cw: jake is very in love but also lowkey emotionally unavailable, mentions of blood and injuries, self-indulgent shade on iced americano, HANDS (also self-indulgent), jake has one wet dream, munch jake, fingering – also semi-public (in his car), mentions of orgasm denial, marking and biting, dry humping, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, aftercare!! ୨୧
read this as a standalone or as a prologue to bandaids! if you've already read bandaids, you can still read this one after. it'll make sense both ways ><
hanna says: huge thank you to @brklynbabyjay and @jayparked for brainstorming a lot with me & helping me with the plot. thank you su for betaing me for this monstrosity and thank you snail for giving me the idea for the title. i appreciate you so so much. also congrats to @tmrwsuns for not losing your mind (and ears) when i yapped about this too much. thank you for hyping me up instead! ily all and this wouldn't have been possible without you <3
mature content under cut, minors do not interact!
“J-Jake,” you mumble out, your fingers tightening the grip on his hair, pulling a little harder – just enough to create the perfect sense of pain. Jake opens his eyes and looks up to you, the sight alone enough to make him bring a finger up to your leaking hole while his tongue keeps focusing on your clit. Your eyes are shut almost a little too tightly, eyebrows firmly drawn together, and bottom lip pulled between your teeth, although that’s barely enough to muffle the pretty moans and whimpers that Jake so badly needs to hear.
It’s almost pathetic how his heart skips a beat at just how easily his finger slides in, how with each pump of it, he can practically see the air getting knocked out of your lungs. When he closes his lips around your clit to gently suck it between his teeth and your head falls back, perfectly displaying the dark red spots he left there so carelessly just minutes ago, he can’t help but let his free hand slip under the soft fabric of his sweatpants, palming his pulsating length through his boxers.
A low groan escapes his lips, sending a wave of vibration through your core that has you bucking up your hips. The movement forces Jake’s eyes shut, his hand almost instinctively leaving his own body and instead reaching for your hip to pull you even closer to his face.
The second he opens his eyes, the bright rays of sunlight that peak through his curtains force him to squeeze them shut again – only to be met with the same image: you squirming underneath him, legs shaking around his head that you desperately try to pull closer.
Suddenly, his usually loose shirt feels too tight, his light blanket too heavy, and he’s hyper aware of the way his dark bangs stick uncomfortably to his sweaty forehead. He forces his tired lids to lift again and slowly sits up, leaning his back against the headboard of his bed and running his hand through his hair first and then over his face.
With a sigh, Jake tugs at his shirt, loosening it from his body in an attempt to cool down. His eyes scan the room – books carelessly scattered across his desk, clothes piling up on the chair and the gym bag with his favorite pair of boxing gloves dangling from it – searching for something, anything, that could distract him from his painfully throbbing hard-on.
Yet, as if he isn’t trying so hard to think of anything other than you, his gaze lands on a few loose papers piling up on the edge of his desk: The notes he took during last week’s statistics class, looming over him like a cruel reminder of the deal that got him into this very situation in the first place.
Back then, when you mutually agreed to help each other, when he promised to send you his notes in return for you taking care of his bruises whenever practice got too rough. The image of your big, innocent eyes as you inspected his bleeding knuckles and the little gash right under his eye only twists the knife of guilt further in his chest.
Jake’s mind flashes back to that one statistics lecture – the only one he was late to. How every seat in the back was taken and he had to awkwardly walk down the stairs to the very front of the lecture hall, feeling all eyes on him as if he walked the walk of shame. How he sat next to you, simply because it was the very first seat he could spot, and he accepted anything to spare him further embarrassment or a comment from the lecturer who had already been eyeing him with raised eyebrows and ‘annoyed’ written all over his face.
He only exchanged a quick, rather forced, smile with you, before rummaging around his backpack until he found a few loose papers and a single pen. Back then, he wasn’t sure if you tried to be subtle as you glanced at his desk from the corner of your eye, observing his rather poor set up, but he noticed nonetheless. Glancing back, he saw you equipped with various pens and highlighters in different colors, yet the notepad in front of you was empty save for the date you’d neatly noted down in the right corner.
You quickly averted your gaze again, glancing back and forth between your empty paper and the lecturer. The crease between your eyebrows got deeper with each phrase he uttered, and your hand stayed rooted in place. Knowing you were supposed to take notes, that there was no way to pass that class otherwise, the professor’s words began to blur together until they were nothing but a fog that clouded your understanding until all hope of making sense of the content disappeared.
Jake on the other hand quickly scribbled down words and formulas, his pen moving over the paper with ease while his focus remained almost entirely on the lecturer and the slides that he projected onto the wall. You eyed his paper again, trying to somehow make sense of the words and numbers, trying to find something you could copy by any chance – just so you wouldn’t leave the lecture hall with an empty notepad again like you’d done the previous two weeks.
But when you tried to catch another glimpse of his notes, his hand quickly rushed over the page while noting down another apparently important point the professor had just made – and your eyes landed on his knuckles.
“They’re not supposed to be that red,” you blurted out your first thought before you could stop yourself. It took Jake a few seconds to fully register your words, but his hand slowly came to a halt as he turned his head your way. He furrowed his brows in a mixture of surprise and confusion, but you barely noticed, your gaze now focused on the gash under his eye. “Neither this,” you added, a little quieter this time.
He didn’t reply, just looked at you with a blank, unreadable expression that forced you to swallow so heavily you were sure it would have been audible hadn’t it been for the lecturer’s endless ramble. You could feel your shoulders tensing as seconds went by without any response from him, and although you pressed your lips together slightly, the silence felt so oddly oppressing that you couldn’t hold back from breaking it again.
"Looks a little puffy too,” you scanned his face for any reaction before averting your eyes as if that could stop him from keeping his on you.
“It’s a bit swollen,” he replied after a while, causing your head to snap back to him, eyes slightly widening in surprise. The boy offered the hint of a smile that was gone so quickly that you barely had enough time to register, let alone reciprocate it.
“Do they hurt?” you asked, letting your eyes wander from the bruise under his eye back to his knuckles, “or feel warm?”
He curled his fingers, clenching his hand into a weak fist before replying with a short nod that you saw from the corners of your eyes, “a little bit of both.”
You hummed. “Might be getting infected.”
When he just wordlessly blinked at you again, you added, “I have some stuff if you wanna clean them up after the lecture.” This time, his reaction was almost immediate, although wordless yet again. He creased his brows another time, scanning your face up and down as if he wasn’t quite sure if he should be confused or suspicious.
“I’m in nursing school,” you clarified. “So yeah, I carry like a mini first-aid kit with me pretty much all the time.”
Jake’s lips formed a silent ‘oh’ as he nodded understandingly, fingers hovering over his notes almost absentmindedly while he seemed to consider your offer. “I mean,” he began, eyes flashing to the rows behind from where he’d registered a quick ‘sh’, and nodded again. “Alright,” he whispered before offering another quick smile that felt a bit more honest and a lot less awkward than before, and focusing on the lecture again.
As soon as the professor dismissed the class, you closed your still empty notepad and collected your unused pens before neatly packing them into your bag and instead pulling out a small pouch, while Jake just carelessly shoved his papers into his own backpack, leaving them half crumpled. When you turned to face him, you found his eyes on you already, his expression a mix of uncertainty and expectation.
You wordlessly pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer out of the pouch and rubbed some of the liquid into your hands. Then, you took out a few antiseptic wipes, carefully tore open the packaging, and extended your arm to signal him to give you his hand.
His skin felt warm against yours, softer than you expected, as his long, slender fingers curled around yours to keep his hand in place, while you gently wiped off the remnants of his wound with your other hand. You watched intently as his veins became a little more present each time the sting of the antiseptic made him tighten his grip around your fingers. Then, you added a little bit of ointment, wrapped a bandage around the wound, and repeated the routine with his other hand.
As you leaned closer to examine the gash on his face and the faintest hint of your perfume tickled Jake’s nose, his breath flattened subconsciously. His eyes landed on your face, now close enough for him to notice the various shades of color in your eyes and the way your lashes curled up perfectly. Jake pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and gently bit down to stop his lips from curving into a smile at your focused expression and your slightly parted lips. Only when you gently tapped over the wound itself did he instinctively pull back just slightly, scrunching his nose in discomfort.
“Sorry.” You pressed your lips together in a tight, apologetic smile that Jake just dismissed with a smile of his own.
“That looks bad,” you mumbled as you carefully applied a thin layer of ointment.
“The other guy looks worse,” Jake stated with a mixture of triumph and amusement, earning himself a look from you that clearly showed you were trying not to snort. “I bet.”
Once you added a small band-aid, although Jake refused at first, you leaned back in your seat to examine his face and hands from a bigger distance. “Much better,” you said with a faint smile. “If they don’t heal, you should get proper medical help though.”
Jake bit back a smile and opted for a nod instead. “Thank you, I owe you.” This time, it was you dismissing his words with a shake of your head and a simple, “you’re good.”
He looked at you for a moment, as if waiting for you to row back on it. But when you didn’t, he slowly stood up from his seat. You mimicked the movement, slung your bag over your shoulder and wordlessly followed him to finally exit the lecture hall.
“Actually,” you said just before he reached the door. He turned back around, his eyebrows slightly raised to show he was listening. “Would you mind sharing your notes with me? I… have nothing,” you asked, avoiding his eyes out of sheer embarrassment.
“Oh, sure, I got you,” he replied so casually you almost felt stupid for hesitating before. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you, “Just save your number, I’ll send them to you later.” Nodding, you took the phone from his hand, making sure your fingers didn’t brush against his hurt ones in the process, and quickly typed in your number.
Jake quickly glanced at his phone once you gave it back, just long enough to catch your contact name, before he shoved it back into his pocket. “See you around, Y/n,” he said with a soft smile. And with that, he walked out the door.
That’s how you and Jake, who had first introduced himself as Jaeyun when he’d sent you the notes later that night, found yourselves in some sort of agreement: Every time you helped him patch up his bruises, he sent you his lecture notes.
And yes, after some time, Jake started sharing his notes without asking for anything in return, as did you whenever he needed your help outside of your statistics schedule. But none of your interactions ever went in a way that would allow his mind to go down the alley of imagining you in any form of sexual context.
The loud ring of his alarm pierces through the silence, startling him and pulling him back to the moment – back to his bedroom that still holds way too little oxygen. Shifting uncomfortably, he reaches for his phone to turn off his alarm, only to be directly met with your name on his lockscreen. The short “thank you! :)” you sent about an hour ago, probably when you saw the lecture notes he’d sent you the evening before. Probably while he was still asleep, dreaming about nothing other than having his face buried deep between your thighs.
With a groan, Jake tosses his phone to the side, lets his head hit the headboard again, and brings his hands up to his shoulders in an attempt to knead away the tension in his muscles. Yet, no matter how hard he tries to refuse, the image of you seems to flood his mind all over again each time he does so much as blink – and even the smallest movements of his hips force him to swallow down a whimper from how sensitive his cock feels against the restraints of his boxers.
Sighing, Jake slumps further against the headboard, spreads his legs just a little to sit more comfortably and takes a deep breath before consciously closing his eyes and really allowing himself to let his mind drift back to you one last time. How he grips your hips to pull you so close to his face that your taste and scent completely take over his senses. How your moans come dulled from how hardly you’re pressing your thighs around his head. How you’re shaking underneath him, clenching so deliciously around his tongue every time he lets it sink in between your folds.
His hand itches to reach for his cock, but he presses his fingers into the mattress instead, fisting the sheets to physically hold himself back from doing so. Then, just as his mind replays your image – of how you look under him, hair sweatily sticking to your pretty face and neck covered in purple love bites – he forces his eyes open again. Clenching his teeth, he sits up straight and lets his face fall into his hands.
“Fuck this,” he murmurs to himself, before he swings his legs off the bed and gets up. He pulls his shirt over his head as he walks to the bathroom, dropping it on the floor along with the rest of his sleeping attire and stepping under the shower where he lets cold water run over his body until it washed away every last thought of you.
Once Jake arrives at the gym, determined to ditch classes in order to keep his mind off of you, he immediately starts his usual warm-up routine, but neither running nor stretching nor the music blasting through his headphones is enough to really achieve that. A tap on his shoulder interrupts his wandering thoughts mid-stretch. When he turns around, he’s met with his friend Sunghoon’s face.
“No classes today?” the younger one asks, to which Jake just shrugs. “If you will.”
Sunghoon looks him up and down for a moment, not missing the hint of distress on his face, but he decides to not ask any questions. Instead, he tilts his head towards the ring in the middle of the room. “Wanna go a few rounds then?” Jake responds with a nod, mimicking his friend as he wraps his hands, straps on his gloves and pops in his mouthguard.
Muscle memory helps him to dodge the first few blows and even land a hit or two. But then, avoiding another dangerously close punch, he makes the mistake of shutting his eyes just for a split second mid-flinch. Yet, it’s enough for a flash of you to run through his mind; a tiny fragment of his dream replaying until a jolt of pain rushes through his head and pushes the image away with force.
Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he steps back, clearly surprised that he, in fact, landed the punch he aimed right at Jake’s jaw so obviously. “What the fuck?”
Jake just quickly shakes his head, blinking the stars away. “Again,” he orders, repositioning himself before continuing. But just when he thinks his focus is at its peak again, his mind cruelly shifts back to how easily your arousal coated his lips and chin. And then, another punch right to his ribs makes him lurch forward, the air getting knocked out of his lungs in a choked grunt.
“Focus, Jake,” Sunghoon says, voice laced with a mixture of confusion and warning. “How did you not see that one coming?” He aims another punch that Jake avoids with a step just at the last moment. “You’re slow as hell today, what’s up with you?”
Jake straightens his back and tilts his head to both sides to quickly stretch the tense muscles in his neck. “Nothin’,” he mumbles back, taking a short, yet deep breath in before aiming a hit Sunghoon easily, almost lazily, avoids. The latter raises an eyebrow, waits for just a second and then counters. Jake dodges the first punch, but the second hits him right on the opposite side of his jaw, quickly followed by a third against his ribs.
Scoffing, Sunghoon drops his arms and takes a step back. “Nope,” he says after a while of watching Jake recover from the pain. “We’re not doing this when you don’t even try.”
Before Jake can object, Sunghoon takes off his gloves, slipping through the ropes and out of the ring. Jake wipes his jaw with his forearm, hissing at the stinging pain as his sweaty skin meets the open wound. He bites down on the glove, using his teeth to abruptly pull at the strings before sliding it off his hand and doing the same on the other side. Then, he shoves them into his bag, jaw clenched so tightly in frustration it almost aches. Because even now, all that’s on his mind is you.
Just an hour later, Jake finds himself in front of your door. After taking a deep breath, he slowly rings your bell, the rush of his own blood in his ears muffling the sound that echoes through the door. Admittedly, he hesitated for a good thirty minutes before even contacting you, typing in his message and deleting it again. But despite really wanting to see anyone but you right now, he could already imagine your scolding voice if he didn’t show up. Something about how you’d told him time and again that he should come to you whenever he needed his bruises patched up and blah blah.
“Oh God,” your quiet gasp snaps him back to reality. Only now does he realize you already opened the door and, judging from your reaction, took in the image of his battered face. Before he can react, you reach for his arm, pull him inside and close the door behind him. You wordlessly guide him to the bathroom where you motion him to sit down on the edge of the bathtub before you grab a small emergency kit from the drawer under the sink.
Jake watches you as you move – quickly but precisely, washing your hands and separating cotton pads to soak them up with an antiseptic whose scent stings almost uncomfortably in his nose. When you turn back around, he quickly looks down. Only when you place your index finger under his chin to carefully lift his head do his eyes meet yours again – and he feels his jaw tensing just by the way you scan his face with that familiar, worried expression of yours. Because once it makes his chest feel tight with endearment, it’s quickly replaced by a wave of guilt. Your simple, innocent touch is enough to make him shiver, his mind immediately racing with a million way too inappropriate thoughts and the desperate attempt to push them all away.
Angling his face to the side, you carefully tap the cotton pad over the wound on his jaw first. “Relax,” you murmur so quietly it might as well have been a whisper when you feel him clenching his teeth even harder. You flicker your eyes up to his briefly only to find them squeezed shut – something he’s never done before. The sight makes you bite the inside of your cheek, the thought of him actually being in pain tugging at your heart just a little.
Turning his face to the other side, you take a new wipe to clean up the slightly smaller bruise there. Once you’re done, you apply a thin layer of ointment to both before letting go of his chin. Just as you want to take a step back, he opens his eyes – and although they seem to hold a vulnerability you’ve never seen before, they soften a little at the sight of yours.
“Thank you,” he mumbles after a while, eyes not leaving yours this time. He’s found himself in that position several times before; sitting on the edge of your bathtub with you standing in between his legs. Yet for the first time, his hands itch to reach out to you.
“Does the other guy look worse again?” you try to joke, but the hint of worry in your voice betrays you. Jake’s lips still twitch up into a soft smile as he shakes his head.
You slowly take a step back to create a bigger distance between you and lean against the sink. And although Jake should feel relieved by the newfound space that makes breathing a little easier again, a tiny part of him wants to pull you back right where you stood two seconds ago.
“So, are you finally gonna tell me how you end up like this every other day? Cause if not, I might start thinking you’re doing some kind of shady stuff.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.
Jake chuckles softly. “I actually do it for fun,” he begins, “and for career reasons, I guess. I’ve been boxing ever since I was a teenager and I wanna go pro.” He studies your face for a second before he continues. “That’s why I don’t put too much effort in my engineering degree, you know. I’m just… kinda doing it ‘cause my parents don’t approve of the whole boxing thing. But that’s always been my first choice.”
There’s something about the hint of pride in his voice that warms your heart, despite the worry that also settles somewhere there. “So, you’re getting beat up for your dreams?” you ask, drawing a quiet laugh from Jake.
“Hey, I beat up people too,” he defends.
“Yeah. And I don’t know if I think that’s a solid career plan.”
Jake halts for a moment and searches your eyes again, expecting that disapproving look he usually got when he shared his plans with anyone. But he only finds a hint of worry instead – and he quickly tries to dismiss the way his heart squeezes ever so slightly. “Now you sound like my parents, too.”
“Well, thanks to them, you go to college and I won’t fail statistics,” you say with a chuckle.
Jake just responds with a soft smile that’s somehow still enough to spread a warm, cozy feeling all across your chest.
“Good, because medicine can’t afford to lose its best future nurse.”
“Break time,” Jake’s voice cuts through the silence so firmly that you flinch, pen gliding over your notes and crossing some of the words out. You look around the library to find around a dozen other students glaring in your direction, and quickly offer them an apologetic smile before your eyes dart back to Jake.
“I’m not done yet,” you reply, forcing your focus back on the textbook in front of you – until Jake takes the pen from your hand, places it between the open pages and closes the book. “But you’ve been studying non-stop for almost three and a half hours now. I can see your brain fuming,” he sighs. Just as you open your mouth to oppose, he shakes his head and gently presses his index finger against your lips.
“You know that suggesting a break when you’ve been the one to doomscroll this whole time is crazy, right?” you mumble against the digit. He lets it rest on your lips for another second, and you swear you can see his gaze dropping – but before you can think about it, he looks up again.
“Coffee,” he suggests, although it sounds more like an order. Biting your lip, you debate whether to agree or to bury your head in your books again.
“Coffee it is,” you finally say with a sigh before collecting your stuff and shoving them back into your bag.
The walk to the small campus café is silent, but while it feels like a much needed break for you, it just seems to give Jake’s mind time and space to wander. Every time your shoulders bump against his or his fingers brush yours while walking, even if just for a fragment of a second, his skin starts buzzing.
By the time you reach the counter, his throat feels so tight that simply asking for your order takes all the effort he can muster. For a second, you eye him with furrowed brows, not quite sure if his jaw is really as tight as it looks or if it’s just the different light inside the store that casts a weird shadow there.
“I’ll go with a caramel macchiato.”
“Suits you,” Jake responds without thinking, only realizing what he said when your brows draw together again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He hesitates for a moment. Then, he takes a deep breath that he masks with a shrug. “You’re also sweet.”
You look at him in disbelief, and he almost rows back on his words, until you let out a quiet chuckle. “If that’s you trying to make me pay for your coffee, it’s not working. And by the way, americano is ass. Literally doesn’t even taste like coffee, it’s just colored water and–”
But Jake doesn’t even listen anymore, busy struggling to ignore the pang in his chest just because you remember his usual order. He bites back his comment about how ‘coffee isn’t coffee either if it contains more syrup than anything else’, instead placing the order and paying before you even get the chance to take out your wallet.
Once you settle on a small table, the silence between you feels relieving – as if your brain finally got the chance to shut off after hours of trying to fit half a semester of pharmacology into your head. Jake, on the other hand, doesn’t feel half as relaxed, seemingly not able to peel his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tries.
You look around the café for a while, watching people come in and leave, until your eyes settle on Jake again. His gaze is intense, filled with something you can’t really read, but it sure is enough to make your heart skip a beat. Enough to suddenly make you feel smaller, tension creeping into your body again.
“What?” you ask so quietly you’re not sure if he even hears over the background noise of the store. Jake only shakes his head in response and drops his gaze to his hands. Your eyes follow his and you allow yourself to watch him play with his rings for a while – turning them, sliding them off and back onto his fingers, knuckles slightly red and veins oh so prominent. Your mind wanders, replaying fragments of every time you cleaned the blood or dirt off his knuckles, or how you taped band-aids around his fingers. Of how his hands felt in yours, fragile but somewhat good, somewhat safe.
“You’ve got something on your mouth,” Jake’s voice makes your head snap back up. As you try to wrap your head around how long you’ve been zoned-out, Jake reaches forward, wipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth and holds it in front of your lips. You part them just enough to close them around the tip of his finger and lick off the whipped cream, cheeks heating up so quickly you’re sure it’s evident. But Jake doesn’t notice, and if he does, he doesn’t point it out.
Instead, he leans back casually and grabs his drink again. “Do you wanna go back to the library?”
To his surprise, you shake your head. “My brain’s mushy, I feel like I won’t even remember what I studied today.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re always stressing too much. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
Once you sit down in the passenger seat of Jake’s car, you immediately slump against the leather, lean your head against the window and let the glass cool down your pounding temple. Jake gets in the driver's seat, but instead of starting the engine, he looks at you with his head tilted to the side. “Tired? Or frustrated?”
With a sigh, you lift your head and turn around to face him. “I usually feel better after a break, but now I really don’t.”
“Maybe you need a… different kind of break,” he hesitates, eyes dropping to your lips for the blink of an eye, so short you barely register it. “Release some stress, you know.”
“Oh, are you volunteering?” You laugh, but Jake doesn’t reply, doesn’t laugh – doesn’t even tear his eyes away from yours. He just shrugs.
In no time, your smile fades, your eyes widen and your breath gets caught in your throat so quickly that it’s hard to speak. “I–... I was joking.”
“Well, I’m not,” he says, face as calm as ever, when in reality his heart seems to be racing a marathon and his palms begin to feel sweaty.
“Did you get hit in the head last practice?” You try to joke, but the small tremble in your voice betrays you.
He absentmindedly pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth as his eyes drop from your eyes to your lips and back up again, holding your gaze as though he could see right through the chaos that is your thoughts. Feeling your heartbeat picking up and your breath coming shorter, you try to swallow down the lump that begins to form in your throat. Jake seems to lean just a hint closer, wetting his lips with his tongue – but just as you want to lean forward too, he suddenly pulls away and sits back in his seat, head falling against the headrest with a sigh. He resists the urge of running his hand through his hair in frustration, before turning his head to the side to look at you again.
“Sorry. I probably did get hit in the head,” he mumbles.
You look at him for a moment, trying to gather your courage to say something, but the words don’t come until he reaches for the key to start the car.
“That’s so unfortunate,” you say, making him stop, “I liked the idea.”
The words make Jake’s eyes dart back to you, and for a while, he just looks at you with an unreadable expression, scanning your face as if trying to find out whether you’re joking. But your gaze is steady and your lips don’t twitch in an attempt to bite back a smile or a laugh. You just lean in a little, then stop to give him time to react. Jake’s eyes never leave yours as he mirrors the gesture.
He leans closer until you can feel the ghost of his breath fanning over your skin, letting goosebumps erupt from just that – and then, as if you’re pulled towards each other by force, you close the distance until his lips are on yours.
He kisses you softly at first, hesitantly, as though he’s trying to savor how soft your lips feel or how effortlessly they move in sync with his. Heart beating so fast you can feel it in your throat, you reach out to get ahold of his collar and pull him closer. You feel his hands cupping your cheeks, fingertips pressing against your skin like you’d slip away otherwise. But instead, you curl your fingers around the fabric harder and tug on it with just enough force for your teeth to clash.
“Come here,” Jake murmurs against your lips, dropping his hands to your hips and carefully pulling you over the middle console and onto his lap. He kisses you again, this time with more urgency. Your hands find their way around his neck, fingers weaving through his hair and tugging on the ends when he gently bites your lip.
The space between you feels too small and not big enough at the same time, and you’re not sure whether you want to pull away or scoot closer. But before you can make up your mind, Jake tightens his grip on your hips and pulls you in until your torsos touch and you can feel his chest rising and falling against yours as he gently pulls away from the kiss.
“Feel better already?” He asks, voice slightly hoarse and lips softly brushing yours. Jake squeezes your hips as your hands slide from the back of his head down to his shoulders, solely to hold himself back from shuddering at the simple touch.
“Don’t know,” you reply, smiling against his lips. “Might need a little more to convince me.”
You feel him reciprocating your smile before he kisses you another time. His hands tentatively slide under the hem of your shirt and to your lower back, just resting on your skin, while yours brush over his collarbones and to his chest, where you feel his heartbeat quickening under your fingertips.
Jake tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, and almost immediately, your hands rush up to his neck again, tugging on his hair just enough to draw a low groan from him. His hands move up and down your waist as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. You slowly pull back, just enough to whisper his name against his lips like it’s the only thing you know how to say. His fingers dig into your skin ever so gently as he leans down to leave soft kisses against your jaw, making your breath stutter and your lips part.
His touch feels somewhat urgent, yet not rushed – and though your heart aches at how gently he takes his time, how he pulls away barely enough to look at you just to make sure you’re okay, you can’t help the heat that spreads up your spine and down to your core. “Jake,” you whisper again, shuddering as he hums against your neck before he pulls back and scans your face for any signs of discomfort. “Want me to stop?”
The way you shake your head almost frantically draws a chuckle from Jake. Leaning forward again, he continues to kiss your neck down to your collarbones, one hand still pressing into the flesh of your hips while the other begins to fidget with the waistband of your pants.
Your breath hitches as he slowly slides his hand past it, thumb carefully grazing over your clothed clit. “Let me take care of you,” Jake says so quietly it almost comes out as a whisper. He pulls his hand away, waiting for your response while slowly but steadily sliding the rings off his fingers.
Nodding slowly, you take a deep breath as he pulls your underwear to the side and slides a finger through your folds, collecting your slick and tracing it up to your clit again. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting the scent of his cologne tickle your nose as your breath gets shakier each second his finger carefully rubs over your sensitive bud.
You want to tell him you want more, but not trusting your voice you just buck your hips forward slightly. Jake, who understands wordlessly, bites back a smile as you can’t seem to help the quiet whimper at the feeling of his digit prodding at your entrance. “That what you want?” He asks, voice so confident it only intensifies the feeling of being completely put into his hands. You just manage a quiet hum that gets stuck in your throat as he slowly pushes the finger in, immediately curling it so perfectly that you could almost forget it’s the first time he’s ever touched you like that.
Continuing his antics, he carefully adds a second finger, angling them just right to hit the sweet spot that draws a quiet moan from you. The sound is enough to cause a shiver to run down Jake’s spine – and suddenly, all he wants is to hear it again.
He gently presses his thumb against your clit, not able to hold back the quiet groan as he feels you clenching around his fingers. As your grip on his shoulders tightens and your breath comes even more ragged, he places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. “Everything still okay?”
The softness in his voice makes your heart flutter a little as you try your best to stay composed enough to nod. “Just… please don’t stop,” you murmur, voice almost breaking at the end. Your breath feels hot against Jake’s neck, yet it makes him shiver. Every curve of his fingers seemingly guided solely by your sounds and the way you arch into him, Jake closes his eyes to focus only on the way your breath grows heavier as each stroke brings you closer to release.
“Let go for me, hm?” Jake asks so gently it fully contrasts the pace of his fingers, making your heart squeeze just as your orgasm hits you with a force that has you digging your fingers into his shoulders. Jake continues, helping you ride out your high, until pleasure gives way to pain and you manage a choked out ‘too much’. He pulls away quickly but carefully, slightly shaking his shoulder to get you to lift your head.
“Hey,” his eyes search yours as he gently rubs your back underneath your shirt, “you alright?” Taking a deep, shaky breath, you nod and back it up with a soft smile. Jake’s eyes drop to your lips once more, but he doesn’t lean in. Instead, he pulls your head to his shoulder again and just holds you there until your breath evens out.
When you open your eyes again and your gaze falls directly onto his strained pants, you slowly trace one hand from his shoulder down his torso. Jake’s eyes flutter shut as his cock twitches in anticipation – but just as your fingers ghost over his clothed length, he grabs your wrist to stop you. When you lift your head and give him a questioning look, he just offers a smile in return, lifts your hand to his lips, and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
“You don’t owe me anything, you know. I just wanted you to feel good.” You open your mouth, but he shakes his head, reassuring, “I’m okay, really. Let’s take you home, yeah?”
Even days later, you don’t talk about what happened, or how steadily he held your hand when he insisted on walking you up to your apartment. Neither about how he randomly starts coming over just to bring you snacks from the convenience store close to his gym whenever he heads home from practice. Not even after you notice that whatever he brings is always something you mentioned craving just a little while ago.
And technically, things stay the same, except that they don’t, really. Jake still sits next to you in statistics lectures. He still takes the notes while you’re trying to figure out what’s going on, still sends them to you unasked. But now, he doesn’t pull away when his knee brushes yours under the table, and you swear he softly bumps his hand against yours on purpose while writing.
You still take care of his wounds after practice. It’s just that now, you text him every night to make sure he really is okay – even if he leaves your place just an hour earlier. And on some days, he doesn’t go home at all. You start keeping his favorite cereal in your kitchen cupboard, and suddenly, the mug he uses for his morning coffee becomes only his, and you stop using it.
He still looks after you, paying attention to your study habits and making sure you’re taking breaks. But now, taking breaks means having his head buried between your thighs. And now, revising means trying to remember what you studied just an hour ago while his fingers work you closer and closer to release, only granting it when you get the answers right.
“Metoprolol,” he reads what feels like the twentieth flashcard, thumb drawing soft circles over your clit. You sigh, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling, until it suddenly stops. When you open your eyes, you find Jake already looking at you, waving the flashcard like a reminder. “Metoprolol,” he repeats.
“That’s a beta-blocker,” you grumble, wiggling your hips to get Jake to continue, but he just drops the flashcard to your mattress and grips your hips firmly enough to stop you.
“And what’s a beta-blocker?” He asks, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back his grin as you roll your eyes.
“You know what a fuckass beta-blocker is, Jake.”
He raises an eyebrow, slowly pulling his hand away from your core. “Come again?”
For a while, you just look at him, jaw clenched and hoping he’ll eventually give up on your pharmacology revision. But he just looks at you with an almost bored expression, not making any attempt to continue.
“They lower heart rate and blood pressure,” you sigh, now giving him an almost pleading look. He hums, letting his thumb ghost over your skin without really touching you. “They’re usually used for hypertension or after heart attacks to–” you cut off as he finally slips a finger into your aching hole.
The first ring of your doorbell barely catches your attention, muffled like a quiet disturbance somewhere further away. But when it rings again and a third time only shortly after, you push your chair back with a sigh and stand up. Your knees almost buckle and your spine cracks uncomfortably, shoulders hurting as you roll them back in an attempt to release the tension that’s been building up from sitting for countless hours.
The fourth ‘ding’ has you rolling your eyes annoyedly. A shiver runs over your scalp and down your spine as you release your hair from the tight bun you kept them in, only now realizing that the hairstyle probably contributed greatly to the pounding in your head. You ruffle them a bit, trying to adjust them so they fall into your face to cover as much of your reddened, puffy cheeks as possible, while you drag yourself to the door and open it without a glance through the small peephole.
The air from outside immediately hits you, clinging to your bare legs uncomfortably. It takes just a look at Jake’s gym bag to recognize him, but your eyes still slowly wander up his torso and to his face.
“Are you hurt?” you try to ask, but the words only come out half. You clear your throat and ask again, scanning his face for any visible bruises, but finding nothing but a hint of concern etched onto his features.
“No,” he replies, studying your face the same way you do with his and pulling his brows together a little tighter at the sight of your glassy eyes and the circles forming underneath them. “You didn’t reply to my messages all day and that’s… kinda unlike you. So I wanted to check in on you.”
“I was studying,” you mumble.
Jake sighs almost inaudibly, just loud enough for you to register the faint sound of it. “I can see that. You look like hell.”
You meet his gaze for a second before you avert your eyes. “Thanks, Jake. Flattering.”
He ignores your remark, still scanning your face. “Were you crying?” he asks, but you don‘t reply.
Without another word or an invitation, Jake takes a step towards you, closing the door behind him with a soft click and dropping his bag to the floor. “Come on, you should really take a break,” he says softly, and although the familiar hint of concern in his voice usually causes a gentle warmth to spread across your chest, this time it feels close to infuriating. You can feel how your shoulders tense again at his suggestion and you immediately shake your head in response.
“You’ve probably been sitting at your desk for hours. It‘s okay to slow down a bit,” Jake says so soothingly it nearly comes off as belittling. He keeps searching your face for any type of reaction, his gaze suddenly so heavy on you that you almost begin to feel small. “You‘re not going to get anything done if you‘re this exhausted,” he tries again.
“I don‘t have time for a break. Not everyone can afford to fall behind and fail their classes, Jake!” You snap, the words spilling out in a tone much harsher than intended and before your brain even finishes your thoughts. It takes only a flicker of your eyes up to his face to see his reaction – his jaw tightening slightly and a small wrinkle forming on his forehead, not from concern this time, but from irritation.
He stays silent for a moment. “That wasn‘t necessary,” he finally mumbles, the earlier softness in his voice now replaced by something firmer. You open your mouth to apologize, but your throat tightens, closes up, makes it hard to speak or even swallow down your apology.
But just seconds later, Jake lets his shoulders fall with a soft sigh, the tension on his face slowly dissolving. He takes another slow step forward and reaches out to gently place his cold hands on your heated cheeks, cupping your face with a grip ever so lightly, as though he‘s giving you every chance to pull away and step back. “It‘s okay,” he reassures quietly. “I shouldn‘t have pressured you.”
Your throat tightens even more as you look up at him the second before tears begin to blur your vision – and just when you want to turn your head away, Jake tightens his grip. Closing your eyes instead, you grit your teeth as hard as you can when one tear rolls down your cheek and you feel Jake’s thumb gently wiping it away.
When you open your eyes only to find his eyes filled with more warmth and softness than ever before, you sniff once, mumble a low, “I’m sorry,” and pull back with a little more strength.
“Wanna rant about how annoying classes are?” he asks softly, tilting his head to the side, but you slowly shake your head. “Do you want me to leave?” He bites the inside of his cheek, regretting the question before he even finished asking it. But to his surprise, you shake your head again.
“Stay,” you confirm quietly, just loud enough for him to catch. His hand itches to reach out to you again – to pull you in and hold you close until he’s made sure that you’re okay. But instead, he just nods. “Movie?” He suggests so gently that your heart almost skips a beat at his attempt to still keep you away from your desk, just not as pushy as before.
When you settle on the sofa next to Jake, he places his arm on the cushions behind you. You stare at the screen, but you don’t really pay attention to whatever is playing. All you can focus on is Jake; the scent of his body wash, the way just sitting next to him leaves the palm of your hands sweaty despite the air conditioning, and how his arm behind you makes you feel so close to him, although he doesn’t touch you. You glance down right in time to catch Jake spreading his legs a little further – just enough for his knee to softly brush against yours.
Tentatively, you lean closer until your head reaches his shoulder. He lets his arm slide off the cushions and around your shoulder almost instantly, pulling you more in so your head rests fully on his shoulder. You stay like that in silence, Jake absentmindedly letting his fingers slide up and down your arm, until you scoot a little closer. He reaches for your thigh with his free hand, slowly curling it around the inside of it just to place your leg on top of his own.
“Is this okay?” he asks quietly as he lets his hand rest on your knee.
The simple, innocent contact is enough to make your breath hitch, enough to let goosebumps erupt on every inch of skin he touches. Not trusting your voice, you opt for a quick nod of your head that draws a sheepish smile on Jake’s face.
You stay like that for a bit, both pairs of eyes on the screen without really paying attention. Jake traces gentle patterns on your skin, trying his best to not be too obvious about how he follows every small twitch of your thigh or every inch you slowly scoot closer. Skin crackling under his touch, a soft sigh gets caught in your throat as he slings his arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.
“Better?” he asks quietly, almost inaudible over the sound coming from the TV. You reply with a hum, before hesitantly draping your arms around his neck. Your fingers gently lace through his hair as you lean forward to rest your head on his shoulder again. His hands settle on the small of your back, just holding you in place for a while.
Although neither of you speaks, the show that’s playing slowly wanders to the very back of your mind, attention zeroing in on the sound of Jake’s steady breaths and the feeling of your body gently pressed against his, somewhat peaceful, yet unsettling at the same time. Not enough.
As if reading your mind, Jake softly tugs at your sweater to wordlessly gain your attention. Shifting slightly, you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him. His eyes find yours immediately, softening just a bit at how they now seem much calmer than before. You allow yourself to get lost in his brown orbs, and, for the very first time, embrace the warmth that spreads through your chest. You're so absorbed in his eyes that you don’t even acknowledge the strand of hair falling onto your face until you feel Jake gently tugging it behind your ear.
His hand lingers on your cheek as his eyes dip down to your lips. Chest buzzing from your quickening heartbeat, you tentatively lean a little closer. He lets his hand slide to the back of your head and gently pushes you forward until his breath fans over your lips – and before he can ask, you close the last bit of distance between you.
Surprised at first, Jake reacts quickly, eyes closing and lips moving effortlessly in sync with yours. His fingertips gently press against your scalp as he angles his head slightly to deepen the kiss. The blissful shiver his touch sends down your neck draws a whimper from you, so quiet you would have thought it went unnoticed by Jake if it wasn’t for the twitch of his fingers. When you slowly pull back, breaths coming more ragged, his hand moves from the back of your head down to your neck, fingers curling around your throat ever so gently – just enough to pull you back in.
He kisses you almost feverishly now, earlier hesitation gone as he glides his tongue against yours and gently bites on your lower lip. Each of his antics has you pulling on his hair a little harder, sending blissful shivers down his spine at the memory of all the times he felt that same tug on his scalp with his face buried in between your thighs.
Slowly pulling back and allowing both of you to breathe, his hand drops from your neck to your hips, pushing past the hem of your sweater to rest on your bare skin. Then, his lips are on you again, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, the spot right under your ear and your collarbone. He sucks on your skin, gently bites down wherever he knows it will draw a quiet moan from you, and quickly licks over the bruised skin to soothe it – all while firmly holding you close to him, fingers almost boring into your skin.
His other hand toys with the fabric of your sweater, softly tugging on it without making any attempt to rid you of it. But the ache between your legs only grows bigger with every second that passes with him marking what seems like every accessible inch of your skin. You let your hands sink to his shoulders, squeezing softly to get his attention, but his lips stay attached to your collarbone, leaving yet another love bite.
Only when you manage to mumble his name, voice breathy and almost breaking at the end of the syllable does he pull back to look at you. “Take it off,” you mutter – and before he can open his mouth to ask if you’re sure, you beat him to it with a quiet “please.” He nods, hands sliding to the hem of your sweater to slowly, almost shakingly push it up. Trying his best to keep his eyes on yours, he can’t help but peek down as he carefully pushes the piece of clothing over your head and drops it somewhere on the sofa.
“So pretty,” he whispers, leaning forward again to softly place his lips on top of yours, hands sliding up hesitantly before cupping your boobs and giving them a gentle squeeze that draws another quiet moan from you. His lips trail down your neck again, touch gentle yet somewhat impatient, until he reaches your chest.
Raising his head to look up at you, he waits until you give a short nod, before attaching his lips to one nipple. The content sigh that leaves your lips at the contact shoots right to his hardening cock. Eager to draw another one from you, he flattens his tongue against the bud, gently sucking on it right after. Once the quiet moan reaches his ears, the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk. He pulls off to come eye-level with you, chuckling softly as he catches the hint of disappointment on your face at the loss of contact.
“Don’t hold back,” he orders, voice not as firm as he initially planned, but the hint of softness makes your heart flutter a little. “I know you can be louder than that. Let me hear you, hm?” He asks, bringing two fingers in front of your lips. You slowly open your mouth just enough for him to push the digits past your lips and onto your tongue. Keeping your eyes on his, you hesitantly start sucking on his fingers, not missing how his jaw tenses although his expression never falters once.
“I said let me hear you,” he repeats, voice dipping lower – just enough to make another shiver run down your spine, but you stay silent. He pulls his fingers out with a tsk. “You’re not usually this shy, what’s up today?”
Instead of waiting for a response, his mouth is on your nipple again, the fingers that pressed down on your tongue just moments ago coming up to flick and twist the other one. Your head lolls back with a shaky breath, nails digging a little deeper into his clothed shoulders.
There’s a part of you that wants to keep holding back, not only out of shyness, for this is the first time Jake has ever seen you shirtless. It’s the way his antics grow messier, almost desperate to finally get the reaction he wants, that just feels too good. While you’re busy wondering if just nipple stimulation has ever caused your underwear to stick to your drenched core this much, one particularly harsh pull rips a surprised moan from you.
Although you keep your eyes closed, partly to spare you from embarrassment, you can feel Jake smiling against your skin. You subconsciously slide forward, his hardening cock pressing against your heat, and the tiny bit of friction is enough for you to clench around nothing. When you press against him again, Jake curses under his breath, but you don’t quite catch what he says. Both his hands are quick to land on your ass, fingers digging into the plush skin while he guides you, and the way the outline of his clothed hard-on perfectly presses against you draws whimper after whimper from you.
Your eyes roll back each time his tip meets your pulsating clit, the sensation feeling almost overwhelming despite the layers of fabric between you. Not knowing how to deal with the mix of not wanting to stop and really, really wanting more, his name leaves your lips in a moan that has his hips stuttering for a second.
“What do you want?” he asks softly, tilting his head to the side the adorable way he often does when talking or listening to you.
Instead of replying, you only press against him harder. His eyes roll back with a low groan, but he refuses to give in.
“Use your words, pretty.”
“Want you,” you murmur, and although he really wants to hear you say it again, he’s too impatient to make you repeat yourself. Instead, he quickly manhandles you from his lap onto the sofa, your back pressed against the cushions as he hovers over you and starts leaving more kisses from your neck over your chest and stomach down to the waistband of your shorts. He quickly pulls it in between his teeth and down your legs without breaking eye contact. Once your shorts and underwear are carelessly discarded somewhere on the floor, his hands find their way to your thighs, spreading them apart to put your dripping core perfectly on display for him.
You let your forearm fall over your eyes as you feel the familiar heat creeping up on your cheeks, feeling timid no matter how many times he’s already seen you like this. The feeling of two fingers gently sliding in between your glistening folds makes you arch your back, and although you can’t see him, you can practically hear Jake’s grin as he speaks, “so wet just for me?”
Again, he doesn’t wait for your response and licks one long stripe from your hole up to your clit, where he circles the bundle of nerves with his tongue before tentatively sucking it between his lips. The moan that rips from your throat only motivates him to do it again, making your back arch off the sofa again. When his tongue finds your hole, his nose bumps against your clit, drawing another whimper from you while he laps up everything you give him with a content hum.
Just as he focuses on your clit again, grabbing your thighs and placing your legs over his shoulders to bury his face deeper between them, you manage a quiet “stop” in between moans.
Jake quickly sits back on his knees and brings his hands to your thighs to gently massage them. “Is everything okay?” The soft look he gives you makes your heart skip a beat, your chest feeling warm with endearment.
“I just… I want you,” you admit, watching as his eyes widen.
Suddenly, Jake’s throat feels dry, and his chest rises and falls quicker as he tries his best to find a different meaning to your words than the one he initially comes up with. “What do you mean by that?”
You hesitate for a moment. “I want you to–... I need you to fuck me.”
Jake’s hands come to an immediate halt, as he swallows the lump in his throat to physically hold his jaw from dropping at your words.
“Fuck, you can’t say this like that,” he mutters.
You don’t respond, just look up at him with pleading eyes as you can practically see his brain short-circuiting.
“I don’t have any con–”
“I don’t care,” you interrupt him, “please, Jake.” Grabbing the collar of his shirt, you pull him in for a soft kiss that completely contrasts the urge in your core. He immediately melts into the kiss, reciprocating it with the same tenderness, until he pulls back way too soon and pulls his shirt over his head.
Your hands find his skin, marvelling at the toned chest and abs he’s been hiding from you. Jake sighs softly at the contact, muscles contracting under your touch as your fingers curl under the waistband of his sweatpants to pull them down along with his boxers. His cock springs free, perfectly hard with beads of precum dribbling down the sides. You reach out, but Jake grabs your wrist to stop you. His other hand pushes your leg more to the side before he carefully guides his tip through your wet folds, over your clit and down to your leaking hole. He hisses at the feeling, clenching his jaw tight to hold back from moaning just from the feeling of your arousal alone.
“Jakeee,” you whine, bucking up your hips just enough for his tip to slide in. Choking back a groan, he places one hand on your knee to angle your leg so that he can properly line himself up with your entrance. He looks at you as if scanning your face for any kind of uncertainty, but before he can ask if you’re sure, you nod.
Jake slowly pushes in, head thrown back as your warm walls welcome him inch by inch. His fingers dig into the flesh of your leg as he tries to hold onto whatever little sanity he has left in him and give you time to adjust.
“Doing so good for me already,” he mumbles more to himself than to you, but the praise is enough for you to clench around him in a way that draws a hiss from him while his eyes shut close. He wants to tell you how you can’t do that to him just yet, but he doesn’t trust his voice. Just as he tries to focus on not bursting without having even moved, your gentle grip on his biceps makes him open his eyes.
“You can move,” you say softly. And so he does, head dropping to the crook of your neck as he slowly starts moving.
Although the stretch feels amazing, the way his hips roll against yours so perfectly, hitting all the right places in a way you haven’t felt before, something feels off. You try to angle your hips differently, to change the placement of your legs, squirming under him for less than three seconds before he quickly comes to a halt. He lifts his head, eyes searching yours as his hand quickly comes up to cup your cheek.
“Hey… what’s wrong? Do you want to stop?” He asks so gently it almost hides the breathlessness in his voice.
You shake your head, letting out a shaky breath as you feel your body tensing in frustration. “No, I just… I don’t know what’s wrong,” you murmur. Suddenly, you feel a lump forming in your throat again, the stress from earlier mingling with the newfound frustration now.
“Babe,” he coos, the sudden nickname bringing your attention back to him. “We’ve never done this before. It’s okay if something doesn’t work out immediately.” His thumb brushes against your cheek tenderly, and leaning into his touch, you slowly start relaxing.
Jake slides his hands under your back, pulling you with him as he sits up and positions you on his lap without slipping out of you. You hold onto his arms again while you slowly sink down on his lap fully, gasping softly at how deep he reaches now. “Let’s try this,” he suggests, hands sliding down your back to your hips. He gently lifts you up a little before he guides you back down, shivers running over his body at the soft moan you let out.
“Just go with whatever feels good for you,” he says, voice so gentle you completely miss the way he’s losing his mind internally.
“But you–”
“Don’t worry about me, you feel perfect for me,” he reassures before you can voice your doubt.
So you start, going slowly, hesitantly at first, then a bit faster – this time quickly finding a rhythm that feels just right for both of you.
“Fuuuck,” Jake pants as his head falls back against the sofa and his fingertips bore a little harder into the flesh of your hips. Your hands weakly grab onto his shoulders for support as you feel the burn in your thighs intensify.
“Just a little longer, baby. Can you do that for me?” He asks when you slow down, lazily grinding on him rather than riding him. His voice is breathy – laced with a strange mix of exhaustion and lust that is enough to send shivers down your spine.
You nod tiredly, though you can’t fully register what he even asked for. His voice is muffled by the ringing in your ears; the only thing you can truly focus on is the way he fills you up so perfectly and how fresh waves of pleasure shoot through your entire body every time your clit rubs against his pelvis.
Jake lifts his head from the sofa to take a better look at your face, and if it didn’t boost his ego so much that your cheeks were flushed, your eyes almost teary and your lips slightly bruised from all the kissing, he would almost feel pity for you.
“So pretty like that… Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, but his words don’t quite reach you. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck where every breath of yours covers his skin in goosebumps and every little whimper makes his cock twitch inside you.
You barely register how he tightens his grip on your hips until he holds you down firmly enough to stop your movements. Before you can even lift your head to look at him, he bucks his hips up, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously that you can’t hold back a surprised moan as your nails dig deeper into the skin of his shoulders.
Jake’s eyes flutter shut at the way your walls clench around him. He rolls his hips into yours another time, leaning his head against the cushions again and relishing how good you feel around him, how your warm slick coats his length and drips down his thighs.
His hands find their way to your ass, lifting you up just slightly, only to roughly push you down to meet his next thrust.
The world around him suddenly goes quiet – the sound of the TV playing in the background, even the quiet hum of the air conditioning that Jake always hears – none of these reach his ears anymore. The only thing he can focus on are your moans that echo off the walls, each of them only spurring him to make you feel better, to make you moan louder.
You can barely hear the string of curses he mutters under his breath, but his breathy whimpers pierce through the wall of pure pleasure, shooting straight to your core. Your legs feel numb, but the way he whines just a little louder and grabs your ass just a little tighter whenever he reaches so deep you’re sure you could see the bulge in your stomach if you had the strength to lift your head from his shoulder motivates you to keep going.
Jake moves one hand up to the back of your head, fisting some of your hair and pulling your head back so gently it’s almost endearing compared to his thrusts. “Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he mutters, holding back a moan at just the sight of your fucked out expression.
Your entire body is tingling, making it hard to not squeeze your eyes shut. “I said eyes on me,” Jake manages between whimpers, focusing his own gaze fully on your face. He can literally see how each snap of his hips brings you closer to release, and god does he love to see it. How he has you right where he wanted you for so long, how he can draw those pretty moans from you, how he doesn’t even need you under him to have full control over your pleasure.
“Jake,” his name rolls off your lips with a moan that makes his hips stutter, his jaw tensing as he tries to solely focus on not letting go just yet.
His hand slowly lets go of your hair and roams over your body, leaving goosebumps in its trace. He cups your breasts, gently squeezes your waist, places his hand on the small of your back to pull you impossibly closer until he finally settles for your clit. A small sigh escapes your lips when he starts to rub slow circles around the bud. You let your head fall on Jake’s shoulder again, strands of hair sticking to your forehead, your cheeks, covering your eyes that you shut tighter with each snap of his hips.
Jake feels his abdomen tighten, his thighs shaking as every thrust knocks the breath out of your lungs all over again. His fingertips dig deeper into your skin, relishing how fast your arousal covers his other hand and how each of your moans bring him closer to the edge.
A murmured “don’t stop,” is all you can muster as you feel the tension in your body reach the unbearable. The sensation makes your head spin – your clit throbbing under his touch, your walls clenching around him tighter and tighter and your skin tingling on every inch your bodies meet.
You can’t even warn him before your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, leaving your body shaking and your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders.
“Fuck, I–” Jake cuts off, his eyes rolling back as he feels his cock twitching. He places both hands on your back, pulling your chest flush against his, so close that you can feel his heart beating rapidly against yours, as he finally allows himself to let go.
He lazily thrusts his hips up a few more times, not only riding out his own high but yours too, before he stops completely and lets his head fall back against the sofa again. Your heavy exhales hit Jake’s sweaty neck as you try to catch your breath, forcing another shiver down his spine. He lets his fingers brush up and down your back gently, waiting for both of your heartbeats to slow down while he softly murmurs words you’re still too far gone to understand.
Only when you slowly lift your head from his shoulder does he open his eyes to look at you. The corners of his lips curl up, offering a smile that feels so warm you almost don’t notice how your body temperature slowly begins to drop.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice ever so gentle although slightly hoarse, as one of his hands lets go of your back and instead moves up to your face to carefully brush your hair out of your face.
You reply with a short nod, tiredly reciprocating his smile. “I’m tired,” you mumble, which earns a soft chuckle from Jake.
“Shower or bath?” he asks, letting his hand rest on your cheek and softly brushing his thumb up and down your skin. You allow yourself to lean into his touch slightly, yet you pout your lips, “nothing.”
Smiling softly, Jake leans forward to press a light kiss against your forehead. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”
Jake drops his hands to your hips, slowly lifting you up once you exhale to carefully pull out of you. Only when he gently sets you down on the sofa do your legs stop shaking. “Good job,” he mumbles. Then, he pushes himself up from the sofa, picks up his sweatpants from the floor and quickly slides them on.
You watch him, gaze wandering over his bare back, the marks your nails left on his skin and the way his muscles slightly flex with each small movement, before he turns around with a soft smile and leaves the living room.
Your eyes are barely open when he comes back with a glass of water in one hand and a dampened washing cloth in the other. He hands you the glass with a soft smile, waiting for you to drink and placing it on the coffee table after. Then, he motions you to lay back with a gentle push against your shoulders. Placing his hands on each of your knees, he slowly spreads your legs apart to carefully clean you up.
The warm fabric feels soft and the way Jake wipes it over your sore skin ever so gently makes your heart flutter as the familiar warmth of just being around him spreads through your chest. Just as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of Jake’s soft lips against your forehead makes you open them again. He’s leaning over you, eyes and smile filled with something between warmth and fondness.
“You hungry?” he asks so quietly he might as well have whispered as he reaches out to gently tuck some strands of hair behind your ear.
Your tired eyes light up at the mention of food. “Can we order pizza?”
Jake nods with a chuckle. After finding his phone somewhere on the floor, he hands it to you. “Choose what you like, I’ll be right back, yeah?” Already invested in the options, you barely register Jake leaving the room again, until he returns with a shirt in his hand. You would have mistaken it for one of yours, if not for the bigger size and the unmistakable scents of his detergent and cologne as he carefully pulls it over your head and guides your arms through the sleeves.
“I always keep an extra one in my bag,” he explains before you can open your mouth to ask.
Trying to dismiss the bubbly feeling in your stomach, you nod in response and mouth a quick ‘thank you’. Jake offers another gentle smile, before taking his phone from your hands, choosing his food and placing the order. The two of you just wait in silence, you sitting on Jake’s lap, one of his hands around your waist to hold you close while he rubs soothing circles onto your back with the other.
After you finish your food – well, Jake’s food, simply because you liked it better than your own and he immediately switched the two boxes – he curls one arm around your waist and the other under your knees and picks you up to carry you to the bedroom where he gently lays you down on your bed before crawling in next to you.
As if it was second nature, his arms find their way around your body again, pulling you in and holding you so close it almost feels like he never wants to let you go again. And despite being too tired to really think about it, you can’t help but wish he means it.
“Jake?” His name rolls off your lips before you can stop it.
You feel his chest vibrate underneath your head as he hums in response. You hesitate for a bit, letting his slow breaths lull you in until you feel yourself drifting off and you barely register the confession you mumble right before sleep pulls you under.
“I really like you.”
The next morning, you wake up from a shiver running over your body. Eyes still shut, you scoot closer to Jake, expecting to be embraced by the warmth of his body, but his side feels even colder. When you slowly open your eyes, you’re met by the bright sunlight that shines through your curtains, and an empty other half of the bed. You hold your breath for a moment, checking for any sounds coming from the bathroom or the kitchen, for quiet footsteps outside your room. But when you hear nothing, the apartment feeling more silent than ever before, you push the air out through your nose.
Although your body feels heavy, your legs and core a little sore, you slowly sit up and reach for your phone on your nightstand. As soon as you grab it, your screen lights up with Jake’s name, the pile of messages he sent the day before, and one from only 43 minutes ago.
Jake: had to leave early for practice and didn’t wanna wake you up :( hope you slept well tho. you looked cute haha. text me when you’re awake?
Biting your lip to hold back a smile, your eyes skim over the previous messages – his question if you wanted to grab dinner after practice, his repeated attempts to ask if you’re okay, if you’re really just studying for so long, or if he did anything to upset you – before they land on the most recent message again. You quickly type your reply and hit send, before falling back into bed, pulling the blanket over your body and letting Jake’s scent take over your senses until you’re fully embraced by it.
When he responds just a little later than usual that day, you don’t think much of it. He tells you about practice, how he doesn’t have any bad bruises this time, and even sends you a picture for proof. You smile at his messages like you’re used to by now, and your heart does that little jump when he sends a voice note to wish you sweet dreams later that night.
Then, little by little, his replies begin to come later, his calls less frequently. He slowly replaces the occasional forehead kisses for kisses on your cheek, or sometimes, none at all. And although you try to shove it away, sometimes you can’t help but think about it. You begin to wonder whether his touch really feels a little less soft than usual, or if your mind is just playing games with you. If his message was intended to sound a bit colder, or if you’re reading too much into it.
He never brings up your quiet confession, and you don’t either, unsure if he even heard, when in reality the four words are constantly replaying in his mind. When you repeat them without saying them, just because your touch is so much softer than before. Because your eyes search for his more often, and the look in them makes his heart drop. And sometimes, when he keeps his hand around yours a bit longer, you allow yourself to think that he might not let go. You almost ask. But each time, he quickly pulls away, changing the topic as though he’s terrified of what could happen if he gives you enough time to think.
Yet, he’s still around. He still comes over after practice, still eats dinner with you, still checks in on you, and still stays when you’re studying. Just not as frequently, and seemingly not as whole-heartedly.
“This one looks painful,” you mumble, standing between Jake’s legs as you clean up a cut on his lips. He doesn’t reassure you that it’s fine. Instead, he just responds with a hum that sounds more indifferent than anything else. His breath flattens when you finish up by applying some of your favorite chapstick to his lips like you usually do, its familiar scent flooding his senses until all he can think about is how it tastes on your lips. And for a second, he seems like he might lean in. But then he stands up so rapidly that his forehead almost clashes with yours, mumbles a quick thank you, something about having to run errands, and rushes out of the door with nothing more than a short goodbye-kiss to your cheek.
Jake doesn’t send you his usual good night text that night – neither the night after. He stops coming over as much. Because he’s tired, busy, or already has plans. But when you tell him that you miss him, he still responds that he does too. Until he doesn’t respond at all.
You reassure yourself he’ll text tomorrow, but tomorrow turns into the day after tomorrow, and then into the day after that. Your follow-up message remains unanswered, and the next one stays a draft until you eventually erase it.
After that, you only see him once. He walks past you in the college hallways, so quickly that you have just enough time to catch a glimpse of the angry red bruise blooming right over his cheekbone. You almost turn around, almost call his name and reach out to ask if he’s okay, but he’s gone before you can second-guess it. And you don’t see him again until he rings at your door a few days later.
“Can we talk?”
Jake almost shoots the question at you, as if he’d forget it if he didn’t get it out fast enough. You look him up and down for a moment, silently wondering why, suddenly, he wants to talk, when he’s been so painfully obvious at avoiding you for what felt like an eternity.
At first, you don’t reply, stuck between having no words to say and having too many. A part of you wants to slam the door in his face, another one wants to hear him out, and despite the feeling of discomfort in your stomach, one part in the very back of your heart hopes that this somehow means something good. “About?”
“Us.”
You swallow lightly, yet it’s enough for Jake to register. When you step to the side to let him in, he hesitates for the blink of an eye. Then, he comes in, waits until you close the door, and hesitates again when you look at him expectantly, before he takes a deep breath in and finally speaks.
“I don’t know where this is leading, and I don’t know where you want this to lead.” He takes a break, eyes searching yours as if searching for the confession you’re not ready to make a second time.
You subconsciously pick at your nails as the silence seems to stretch the small space between you infinitely. Then, taking a deep, shaky breath, you break it. “If this is about the other night, we can just forget it.”
“Did you mean what you said?” He asks quickly, sternly, voice laced with a tone that tells you there’s no correct answer to the next question. “About liking me?”
You hold his gaze for a while, trying to make out the emotion his brown orbs hide, but to no avail. So you lower your eyes before slowly nodding your head yes – and with each passing second in silence, the air only seems to thicken with tension.
“We should stop whatever this is,” he says with an unfamiliar coldness, as if he’s trying to prove there’s no room for argument – as if the lack of an answer wasn’t the answer already. And although meeting your expectation, the words still hit you like a punch to the gut, causing your head to snap up to look at him again, only to find nothing of the usual softness on his face.
You open your mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in your throat, clogging your airways until it feels hard to breathe. Jake’s eyes flicker down to his hands, observing his bruised knuckles, before he brings them back up and locks them with yours.
“If you want more than this, we should stop,” he repeats matter of factly, eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t be the guy you need, much less deserve. I’m not gonna take you on nice dates or be there for you on call. It took me years getting to where I am now, and I’ll work harder to get where I want to be. I can’t do it halfway, Y/n. And I won’t choose you over boxing.”
“You should have thought about that before you started to act like my boyfriend.”
Jake’s eyes widen slightly at your words. He looks at you for a while, a hint of tension in his jaw, until he visibly gulps and lowers his gaze. “I didn’t mean to–”
“Oh, you didn’t?” Your interruption makes his eyes snap back to you, the sarcastic undertone in your voice drawing his brows together. “I thought you were sure when you started all this, my bad.”
“Listen, I wasn’t trying to mess with you,” Jake replies, the slight tremble in his voice mirroring the one in his hand as he runs it through his hair, pushing back some strands that fall right over his eyes again the second he lets go.
“It just didn’t feel that casual to me,” you mumble, unsure if he hears, or if you even meant for him to.
But his eyes widen again, a wave of something similar to panic washing over his face. “It wasn’t casual,” he defends, almost stumbling over his own words from how fast he spits them out. And for a second, you allow a spring of hope to bloom in your chest, allow yourself to breathe – until his words snatch the air away from you once more.
“I just can’t give you more.”
You look at him, eyes boring into his as if you could find a glimmer of something else behind them. Something that tells you he doesn’t mean it, that he’ll change his mind. But he stays silent, just holding eye contact for a moment before breaking away from it.
“Right,” you say quietly, but Jake still catches the way your voice cracks a little, and he swears his heart does the same when you continue, “you could just give me enough until I slept with you.”
“Huh?” He exclaims almost a little too loudly, taking a step forward to reach out to you, simply because he lacks ideas of what else to do – but you quickly step back, eyes shooting up to his in a way that tells him to keep his distance.
“Y/n, that’s not true.”
“Well, the shoe fits,” you reply, crossing your arms in front of your chest.
He shakes his head, clenching his hands into fists to refrain from reaching out again. “That’s not true,” he repeats.
“If it wasn’t casual, what was it then?”
Your question comes quietly, but surprisingly stable. You hold Jake’s eyes, even when your throat starts burning from how tight it feels and you really want to look away just to hide the tears that you feel pricking at your eyes. But you don’t have to, because Jake is the first to look away, eyes wandering to the side to look right past you and thinning his lips as though keeping them sealed.
“Okay. Got it.”
And with that, you open the front door again and tilt your head toward it to wordlessly signal him to leave.
“Dude,” Sunghoon groans frustratedly as Jake barely dodges another punch the younger throws at him. “You’re slower than a sloth,” he continues, but Jake doesn’t reply – just stumbles back a step to avoid another hit.
“That girl still taking up all your focus?”
Jake’s eyes dart up immediately, eyebrows pulling together and lips parting ever so slightly, yet he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he steps forward, aiming for his friend’s ribs. Blocking the blow with his arm, Sunghoon’s lips curl up to a grin that tells Jake he’s simply trying to get any type of reaction from him.
“The one you were desperately trying to reach a few weeks ago, if you remember,” he clarifies unnecessarily, voice laced with mocking innocence, as if Jake could have forgotten who he means.
“We’re not talking anymore,” he replies finally, voice tight enough to show he’s not willing to talk about it.
“But you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Sunghoon presses with another question that earns him a quick but sharp punch to the gut instead of an answer. He winces at first, but the initial cough from the air being pushed out of his lungs violently soon turns into an amused chuckle.
“Take that as a yes,” he mumbles before collecting himself and standing up straight despite the dull pain in his stomach. “Then she must have been really clingy. Or a really good fuck.”
Jake clenches his jaw tightly, the line between his brows deepening further. “Stop speaking about her like that.”
“You didn’t deny it,” Sunghoon replies, not even trying to hide the grin on his face as he watches Jake practically imploding.
“Shut up,” he growls, “that’s not how it was.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, replacing his teasing look with a more serious one. “How was it then?”
Jake’s face slowly relaxes, the tension disappearing little by little until there’s nothing left of it. He opens his mouth, closes it, and repeats the process once more before he slowly lowers his gaze to the floor and takes a deep breath.
“I don’t know. Good. She felt good to be around. Calming, if that makes sense. She seemed comfortable and just herself with me, and…”
Sunghoon doesn’t reply, just hums to tell the older to keep going.
“I’m probably making that up, but I think sometimes she smiled a bit more when I was around and then my heart did that thing and it made me want to make her smile forever?”
“And how did you mess up?”
The question causes Jake to look up again, cluelessly blinking at his friend.
“You said you’re not talking anymore,” Sunghoon continues, “but it sounds like she really liked you. So: How did you mess up?”
“She does like me!” Jake exclaims so quickly he almost stumbles over his own words. “Or… did. I don’t know. I told her I can’t give her more than that and she got it all wrong, talking about how I could give her just enough until she slept with me and–”
“Woah, hold on,” Sunghoon interrupts with one hand held up, “I know you’re not an asshole, why are you acting like one?”
Jake doesn’t reply at first, just replays his friend’s question over and over in his mind.
“I just… look, she deserves the world, okay? And I’m just so caught up in boxing, and I need to focus if I wanna go pro.”
Again, Sunghoon’s eyebrow shoots up. “She ‘deserves the world’, so you go give her nothing? Doesn’t sound logical to me.”
“But making this professional has been my goal for years and–”
“I know. Did she make you choose?”
Jake hesitates, then slowly shakes his head.
“So you just freaked out.”
“I didn’t freak out.”
“I’ve known you for years now, and as your friend I feel entitled to tell you that 99% of the time you’re the epitome of freaking out,” Sunghoon deadpans. “Do you have feelings for her?”
Jake gives Sunghoon a look that somehow says everything and nothing at once, and it’s just enough for the younger to understand.
“You’re in love with her.”
Jake hesitates, holding his breath for just a second, before pushing the air out with a sigh. Then, he slowly nods. “I am.”
“Then why’d you drop her, dumbass?” Sunghoon asks, throwing his head back with exaggerated frustration. But Jake just slips through the ropes of the ring and rips off his gloves – completely oblivious to the fact that, just around the corner, with his words echoing in your mind, you’re holding a little tighter onto the shirt you intended to give back to him.
Diploma in one hand, you wince at the pain in your heels as you slowly push through the crowd of people. You’re almost at the exit, eager to catch some fresh air after what felt like hours of ceremony, when a soft tap on your shoulder makes you turn around. And suddenly the noise around you fades, as though the world stopped for a moment.
You look at Jake, his own diploma in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other, and your breath catches in your throat when he slowly reaches out to hand it to you. Goosebumps erupt on your hand, shooting up your arm and down your spine, when his fingers softly brush yours as you hesitantly take the flowers from his hand.
“Congratulations,” Jake mumbles so quietly you don’t catch it, just reading it off his lips. He wants to tell you that he knew you’d make it, that he’s proud of you, that he hopes you’re proud of yourself, too. That he misses you to a point where it hurts, and that just seeing you again made his heart skip several beats. But the words stay on the tip of his tongue, slowly evaporating into thin air with every second he doesn’t get them out.
“Congrats to you too. Didn’t think you’d graduate, given you don’t have time for Plan B,” you manage, although the words taste bitter, feel forced, and make Jake gulp visibly. But he notices the soft look on your face, the apology in your eyes that contrasts the harsh tone of your voice, and he knows that you’re not really trying to hurt him – just trying to protect yourself from getting hurt first.
He stays silent for a while, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, and releasing it again before responding. “Well, someone once told me that getting beat up for my dreams isn’t a solid career plan.”
Before you can help it, the corners of your lips twitch just a little, barely enough for Jake to see the faintest hint of a smile.
“Oh, and you listened to that someone?”
“Only ‘cause that someone is special… and definitely not Plan B,” he says with a shrug that looks way too forced to make it appear casual.
You absentmindedly tighten your grip around the flowers, wanting to snap back a reply to hide that the walls you’ve been building around yourself aren’t so stable after all – but your mind blanks.
And Jake swears he would take the snarkiest remark, but your silence and the insecure look on your face makes his chest tighten uncomfortably.
“Anyway, you should go celebrate with your family and–”
“They didn’t come,” you interrupt with a shake of your head.
“Huh?” He surprisedly raises his eyebrows.
“My family didn’t make it. Too much work, or no flights, or whatever,” you shrug, slightly shifting from one foot to the other as if that could loosen the tension you feel creeping up your spine.
“Do you wanna join mine?” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “It’s… nothing fancy, just dinner. You should come.”
This time, it’s your eyebrows that shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“You should come.”
For a while, you just look at him. Take in the hint of hope on his face, the way he slightly raises his eyebrows in anticipation, and the way he starts fumbling with the diploma in his hand. And you try hard to ignore how your chest warms at the simple habit of his that somehow makes you realize just how much you missed him.
“Did you mean it?” The words come out before you think about it, surprising both of you.
Jake furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “What? Of course. You shouldn’t be alone today.”
“No, I mean… Did you mean it when you said you were in love with me?”
You watch as his eyes widen and his adam’s apple pops up and down as he gulps. He opens his mouth, but you beat him to it. “I was going to return your shirt, and I guess I overheard your conversation. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, you guys just don’t know how to talk in normal volume.”
Jake looks at you with a face that doesn’t quite give away what he’s thinking – something like a strange mix of shock, relief, and uncertainty. Face paling, he waits and waits for the realization to settle, searches for things to say, but suddenly it feels like he lost all the words he once knew.
“I… Yeah, I meant it,” he begins slowly. “I didn’t realize it before– I mean, honestly, I did. I knew I liked you, but–”
“You freaked out,” you interrupt, trying to imitate Sunghoon’s tone of voice, but you can’t help the hint of sadness coating your words.
Jake reciprocates your half-smile for a second, then he nods with a sigh.
“I did freak out. Listen, I’m sorry for the way I left things, and I know sorry isn’t gonna make it better magically, but…” He trails off and lowers his head. “You mean a lot more to me than I showed you, and I’d like to prove that to you at least today.”
You gulp as if that could help you get rid of the lump that has been forming in your throat the second you turned around and faced him. And despite it getting only harder to breathe when his eyes find yours, you don’t look away this time. Instead, you let his gaze steal the air from your lungs little by little as you keep searching for the slightest hint of insincerity. But even as seconds turn into what feels like an eternity, you find nothing that makes you doubt he means it. So you slowly nod.
“Fine. But only ‘cause I really want dinner,” you give in, and although you try to sound stern, you can’t help but mirror Jake when his lips curl up just a little.
When Jake introduces you to his family, you learn that he’s been talking about you – ‘once or twice’, according to him, and ‘the entire fucking time’, according to his brother. Your eyes shoot to Jake, who just scratches his neck sheepishly, but the honesty in his look makes it hard for you to really shrug it off.
He stays close to you throughout the entire evening. Wherever you’re walking, his hand hovers over the small of your back just enough to prove he’s there without really touching you – and during dinner he sits next to you, perfectly distanced for your legs to not brush against each other’s but so you can still feel the warmth of his body. And although his family includes you into the conversation just perfectly, he occasionally nudges your shoulder and looks at you with a questioning look to make sure you feel okay.
When you bid goodbye to his parents and brother later that night, you’re so busy thinking about how oddly comfortable you feel, that you don’t notice how Jake struggles to hide the oh so evident adoration in his eyes. The need to keep you close. But he swears that even if you decide you never want to see him again after this night, the soft smile on your face is enough for him, as long as he was the one who painted it there.
He insists on walking you up to your apartment, hand itching to reach for yours, but he quickly shoves it in the pocket of his dress pants. Once you stand in front of your door, you hesitate to look for your key. Instead, you turn around to face him.
“Thank you for inviting me,” you say quietly, offering him a tiny smile that he immediately reciprocates.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he replies so gently your knees almost buckle just at that.
“Well, I told you I really wanted dinner,” you try to joke, but your voice sounds far more charged. Jake smiles nonetheless.
For a while, you just stand there, looking at him without feeling like you’re drowning. You can almost see it on his face how he wants to take a step closer, but refuses to give in to it. And despite everything, you’re the one to do that instead. Jake’s breath flattens as he looks down to you, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between you, but he doesn’t move – doesn’t back away either when you slowly bring your hands up to his jacket and pull him down until your lips almost touch.
He gulps as he reaches for your waist with shaky hands to pull you in more, trying to ignore the way his heart skips a beat once he feels your body against his. And when you slowly angle your head up to close whatever distance was left between you, the goosebumps that erupt on his body almost make him shudder. His fingers dig into your waist softly, almost like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re real, while his lips gently move against yours in a way that makes you feel like he never left.
Nearly overwhelmed by the feeling, you allow yourself to melt into his touch until you slowly, almost reluctantly, pull away for air. Jake’s breath brushes your lips as he gently rests his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.
“Fuck, I’m so in love with you,” he mutters, not even registering the words until he said them.
When he feels you tensing just slightly, he quickly takes a step back. “Sorry, I–... You don’t have to say it back, I just– sorry I shouldn’t have said that,” he stumbles over his own words, only stopping his ramble when you take a step forward again and tenderly place one hand on his chest. Then, you curl your fingers around the fabric of his shirt just enough to pull him in again.
You kiss him so softly it proves not only that you feel the same, but also that you’re not yet ready to really tell him again. That you want to let him in, but still make sure he keeps one foot out the door. And for now, that’s enough for Jake.
His touch is gentle when his hands cup your face, thumbs carefully sweeping over your cheeks as he pulls away the second time.
“You mean a lot to me, Y/n,” he confesses, intentionally this time, steadily, although his voice shakes a bit. “I’m sorry I ever made you think otherwise.”
Your heart squeezes not only at his words, but the way they feel more genuine than anything he’s ever told you before. And you can’t help the soft smile when you look right into his eyes again and find nothing but endearment and honesty.
“You did prove that to me today,” you mumble, smiling a little brighter at the evident relief on his face.
“Will you let me prove it again?” He asks tentatively, the glimmer of hope in his voice making you chuckle softly.
A — Angst
F — Fluff
S — Suggestive
M — Mature/smut
T — Mystery/Thriller
C — Crack
✦Bodyguard!Heeseung x reader headcannon ☁︎
{s, m I Bodyguard!Heeseung}
✦Say my name, sweetheart
{a, f, s, m I est. relationship}
When your friends turn cold and the world starts to feel a little too loud, you do what you always do, pretend it’s fine. Smile, nod, brush it off. But Heeseung knows better. One look at you and he sees the cracks forming. And he doesn’t let it slide. He pulls you in, soft, then firm. Reverent, then raw. This isn’t just sex. It’s a reclamation. A reminder. A promise. They don’t deserve you, he says. But I’ll show you who does.
✦Silent vows, shattered moans ☁︎
{s, m, f I stepdad!Hee x reader}
Your mom’s marriage to Heeseung is supposed to be perfect, so much so that fairytales would be jealous. But what happens when her husband finds you far more interesting than his own wife? Every thrust feels like a vow he carves into your body, taunting, relentless, daring you to cry out while your mother waits in the next room.
✦The Devil's Bargain ☁︎
{s, m, t I Mafia boss Heeseung}
Interrogator!Reader x Criminal!Heeseung
✦So Pretty in Water ☁︎
{s, m, f I Bestfriends to lovers}
✦High on You ☁︎
{s, m, f I weeder!bestfriend!Heeseung x Innocent!reader}
Heeseung has been teasing you for weeks about being too “good,” and tonight he’s decided to push. One smoke, one shared puff, and your resolve crumbles. High and overwhelmed, your body betrays you as he guides, teases, and pushes you to the edge, fingers, grinding, and finally taking you in a rough, filthy rush of desire. Even in the aftermath, he’s impossibly teasing, possessive, and utterly irresistible.
✦Mine, Always Mine
{s, m, f I vampire!boyfriend!Heeseung x Human!reader}
Heeseung had been quiet all evening, too quiet. You saw the way his gaze lingered on your throat, the way he fought his own hunger until his composure cracked. Temptation became build-up, and build-up gave way to feral hunger. His bite was more than a wound, it was venom, an aphrodisiac that left you trembling, begging, addicted. And once Heeseung gave in, there was no stopping until he had ruined you with both his cock and his fangs. You swore it would never happen again… but he already knew better.
✦Through the Black Door☁︎
{s, m, t I Stepdad!Hee x reader}
You should have known better than to run. The mall was too crowded, too loud, too easy to get lost in, but Heeseung never lost you. His eyes never let you go.
✦Just Let Me
{s, m, f, a I Downbad!bestfriend!Heeseung x oblivious! pessimistic! reader}
Four heartbreaks taught you that love isn’t for you, that no one deserves the care and attention you give. But Heeseung, your best friend of four years, refuses to accept that.
✦Hollow
{m, t I possessive!yandere!ex!Heeseung x reader}
There is no escape. There is only him.
✦The Jealous Kind ☁︎
{s, m I est. relationship}
Heeseung as the Jealous boyfriend. He doesn’t just love you, he owns you. And tonight, he’ll make sure you never forget it.
A — Angst
F — Fluff
S — Suggestive
M — Mature/smut
T — Mystery/Thriller
C — Crack
✦You wrote me wrong ☁︎
{a, f I idol!Jay x editor!reader}
You’re an editor on the media team at Belift, writing clever captions and emotional taglines for idol content that would make readers chuckle. By day, it’s a normal job. A normal life. Or so your colleagues think. By night? You’re VenusQuill, a wildly popular, anonymous fanfic writer with thousands of Tumblr followers begging for more Jay x Reader fics, and maybe your identity. The only problem? A certain stranger online has taken a keen interest, insisting you got the details wrong, and he won't budge until you've fixed them.
✦He Pays Me to Break His Heart
{a, f I idol!Jay x stranger!reader}
Jay needs to feel something again. Anything. So he hires you, an outsider with a sharp tongue and no ties to the industry, to pretend to date him, charm him, and then shatter him. All in the name of art. His next album depends on it. You’re supposed to play the dream girl. Make him fall. Then leave. Loudly. But somewhere between staged photos, 2 a.m. songwriting sessions, and the way he looks at you like you’ve already ruined him, you forget where the performance ends. And Jay? He starts writing songs he was never meant to sing.
✦Wrong Door, Right Sinner ☁︎
{f, s, m I Single mom! Reader x son’s bestfriend! Jay}
You’re a single mom. Jungwon’s your son. Jay’s his best friend. He’s polite at first. Sweet. Good kid. But then the looks start. Longer than they should be. His hand lingers on yours a second too long in the kitchen. He calls you “Miss” with a smirk that feels like sin. And one night, after Jungwon’s asleep, after Jay offers to help you with the dishes, he corners you against the sink.
✦Until I Break You In
{s, m I Professor Jay}
Professor!Jay x Student!Reader
✦Leave the Lights On
{s, m I idol!producer! Jay x reader}
You stayed behind in the studio, thinking Jay just wanted company while he wrapped up a track. But the quiet hum of equipment, the closeness, and the way his hand lingered too long on your thigh makes it obvious he wants something else, something he’s been holding back all night. Alone in the studio with the lights dimmed and the city outside, Jay finally snaps, and you find out just how desperate he’s been to have you.
✦Forever at Midnigh ☁︎
{s, m, f I Est. relationship}
It’s late, too late to be awake, too late to be kissing each other like this. But when Jay crawls into your bed, lips tasting like exhaustion and longing, neither of you care about sleep.
✦Pit Stop ☁︎ ☁︎
(Red Bull racer Jay, I repeat, Red Bull racer Jay!!)
{s, m, f I F1 Driver!Jay x Model!Reader}
⚠️ Reading may result in obsession, and a lifelong inability to look at gloves, corsets, or F1 cars the same way.
Invited to watch the F1 race, you, a high-profile model, cross paths with Park Jay, a cocky, effortlessly handsome driver at a glamorous pre-race gala. Sparks fly, words bite, and before you know it, a flirtatious bet spirals further than either of you could have predicted...
✦The Blue Moon
{a, s, f I dragon!knight!Jay x captured princess!reader}
Every princess was young once. You remember the days when you were four and met Jay, a young dragon knight-in-training with a warm laugh and a love for hide-and-seek. He was your first friend, the one who made you feel less alone. But war changes everything. Years later, when your kingdom falls and you’re taken captive, you see him again, only this time he’s no longer the boy you knew. He’s a dragon in his prime: cold, untouchable, devastatingly handsome. You expect help. Instead, you’re met with cruel indifference. Forced into the enemy’s culture, stripped of freedom, you almost give up… until the Blue Moon Festival arrives, and a twist of fate binds you to him forever. For when a dragon truly falls in love, not even an empire can stand in the way.
A — Angst
F — Fluff
S — Suggestive
M — Mature/smut
T — Mystery/Thriller
C — Crack
✦ You Remember Wrong
{a, m, f, s, t I Distorted reality, who’s real, who’s fake?}
Every year at exactly 12:12 a.m., you receive a single text. Always from the same name. Always the same word: “Sorry.” The name? Jake. Your boyfriend. Your first love. Declared dead five years ago. You thought the case was closed. You thought you were healing. But this year, the message changes. “You remember wrong.” Reality glitches. Your reflection moves without you. He never left. And he’s not leaving now.
✦ Because I liked a boy ☁︎
{f, s, c I high school romance au}
You didn’t expect your final year of high school to feel like a coming-of-age movie, but then again, you didn’t expect Jake either. Between math class mishaps, window-to-window glances, and hallway butterflies, something about him makes you want to twirl in your room to your favorite song again. With Zoey’s chaotic commentary, soggy cafeteria lunches, and a spin-the-bottle party that turns everything upside down, you realize maybe high school is still magic. It’s light. It’s hazy. It’s young and stupid and full of heart, and it might just be love.
✦ Made to Take Me
{s, m I husband!jake x pregnant wife! reader}
Jake x pregnant reader
✦Animals
{s, m, f I werewolf!Jake x human!reader}
What if the boy you’ve been crushing on is part wolf, entirely feral, and completely obsessed with you?
✦Extra Credit
{s, m, f I tutor!Jake x bratty!reader}
Biology should’ve been easy. Cells, systems, mitochondria, it was all supposed to make sense, but with Jake sitting across from you in his glasses, patient voice soft and steady, you couldn’t focus on anything except the way he looked at you. When your teasing finally pushes him past his limits, your nerdy tutor isn’t shy anymore.
✦Blood, Dust, and Gold ☁︎
{s, m, f I outlaw!Jake x outlaw!Hoon x reader}
Jakehoon x reader (threesome)
When two notorious outlaws tear you from your quiet little town at dawn, you expect a bullet in your back before sunrise. Instead, you’re dragged across the desert, through gunfire, canyon passes, and nights spent too close under the stars, toward a treasure only you know the way to. Jake is all charm and dangerous grins, Sunghoon is all sharp edges and silent stares, and you? You’re caught between them, terrified… and slowly undone by them both. Gunpowder on their hands, hunger in their eyes, and gold waiting at the end of the road. But when the treasure’s finally in reach, you realize the real danger isn’t losing your life. It’s losing your heart.
✦Mission: Don't Fall In Love ☁︎
{s, m, f, a I assassin!Jake x assassin!reader. Enemies with benefits to lovers}
Two assassins forced into a joint mission were never supposed to want each other. You’ve built your life on precision, control, and silence. Jake thrives on chaos, recklessness, and infuriating smirks. But when a mission turns sideways and one of you is taken, the line between survival and obsession blurs. Every fight, every kiss, every near-death escape pulls you deeper into a love you swore would ruin you, and maybe already has.
✦Match My Freak
{s, m, c I est. relationship}
You and Jake are a problem. A menace to society. Two freaks who found each other and decided to never let the world know peace again.
A — Angst
F — Fluff
S — Suggestive
M — Mature/smut
T — Mystery/Thriller
C — Crack
✦To Rule Is To Ruin
{a, s, m I Prince!Hoon x seneschal!reader}
In the frostbitten kingdom of Vredon, power is earned not through love, but loyalty. Sent to serve as seneschal to Crown Prince Sunghoon, Lady Y/n Grace is brilliant, calculating, and indispensable, but never chosen. Not officially. Not publicly. And not when it matters most. In a court where love is weakness and power is survival, Y/n must choose: Will she rule through ruin, or let ruin rule her?
✦Let Me Taste What I Made
{f, s, m I husband!hoon x pregnant wife! reader}
Mama reader x dad Sunghoon
✦Freezer Burn ☁︎
{f, s, m, t I stalker! sunghoon x reader}
The first sign is the cold. Not winter cold. Not roommate-left-the-window-open cold. This is the kind of cold that lives under your skin. The kind of cold that warns you you’re prey. You don’t know who he is the first time he shows up behind you, whispering in your ear with a knife at your throat. But he knows you. He’s been watching. And he’s decided: If he can’t kill you, he’ll keep you. And no matter how far you run, he always catches you.
✦Till the sheets are ruined ☁︎
{f, s, m I newlyweds! Sunghoon x reader}
Park Sunghoon × f!Reader (newlyweds)
✦Beneath the Howl of the Moon ☁︎
{s, m, f, a I Werewolf!Hoon x human!reader}
When you stumble into Park Sunghoon’s hidden world, you don’t expect danger, desire, and destiny to crash together beneath the moonlight. He was never supposed to show you what he is, never supposed to fall this deep, but one night, claws and fangs come out to protect you, and there’s no going back. Torn between feral instinct and the fragile way he loves you, Sunghoon lets you see every part of him. And when dawn rises, you’ll learn just how raw, possessive, and tender a wolf’s love can be.
✦Till death do us part, (and then some) ☁︎
{s, m I husband!hoon x wife!reader}
A month of waiting. A month of stolen kisses, aching touches, and a pact sealed in desperation. On your wedding night, Sunghoon finally gets what he’s been craving, and he’s not letting you go until every ounce of hunger is spent.
✦Daddy's Perfect Little Mommy-to-be ☁︎
{s, m, f I dad!hoon x mama!reader}
After two years of marriage, you finally find the courage to tell Sunghoon that you’re pregnant. His reaction isn’t what you expect, it’s better.
✦Blood, Dust, and Gold ☁︎
{s, m, f I outlaw!jake x outlaw!hoon x reader}
Jakehoon x reader (threesome)
When two notorious outlaws tear you from your quiet little town at dawn, you expect a bullet in your back before sunrise. Instead, you’re dragged across the desert, through gunfire, canyon passes, and nights spent too close under the stars, toward a treasure only you know the way to. Jake is all charm and dangerous grins, Sunghoon is all sharp edges and silent stares, and you? You’re caught between them, terrified… and slowly undone by them both. Gunpowder on their hands, hunger in their eyes, and gold waiting at the end of the road. But when the treasure’s finally in reach, you realize the real danger isn’t losing your life. It’s losing your heart.
✦Track Worth Saving ☁︎
{s, m I idol! producer!Sunghoon x reader. Est. relationship}
He told you to sit still, but with Sunghoon’s cock buried deep and the mic glowing red, you were destined to make music of your own.
A — Angst
F — Fluff
S — Suggestive
M — Mature/smut
T — Mystery/Thriller
C — Crack
✦When you eat special chocolates and need help with the effects ☁︎
{s, m}
-> Part two: ✦Enhypen eats special chocolates and overstims you to another dimension ☁︎
{s, m}
-> Inspired fic: ✦Enhypen's reaction to walking in on you grinding on the kitchen counter
{s, m}
✦Enhypen trying to make you squirt/reactions to you squirting for the first time
{m}
✦When you are older than them☁︎
{s, m}
✦Phone calls when you miss them
{s, m}
✦Enhypen fingering you senseless
{m}
✦Enhypen and their kinks ☁︎
{s, m}
✦Full Nelson ☁︎
{s, m}
✦Enhypen's reaction to you having a wet dream about them ☁︎
{s, m}
✦Welcome, Mistress ☁︎
{t, a, s, m}
(Poly!Enha x reader) (eightsome)
When you return to the manor you inherited, you expect dust and memories. What you find instead are whispers in the walls, dolls that look too lifelike, and seven men who shouldn’t exist, seven souls bound in porcelain by your grandfather’s hand. Their silence hides centuries of hunger, their touch leaves you trembling, and their devotion is nothing short of worship.
✦Phone Sex (Hyung line only)
{s, m}
✦Brat Taming
{s, m}
(Yang Jungwon, Sim Jaeyun and Lee Heeseung)
✦Eating you out
{s, m I threesome with Sunoo and Jungwon}
Hanging out with your two best friends playing video games didn’t sound like such a bad idea, right? Wrong.
this year i chose to push my boundaries and try with the kinktober, there are many things i've never written before so idk how it will come out, there are also many things that i said i wouldn't do in my rules, i'm taking this occasion to see if i'm okay with writing that stuff or not. some fics will be shorter than others, i think the range will be between 1k and 5k words, based on how much plot i can insert outside of the smut (most will be pwp honestly). here is where i got the prompts, ( @kinktober-2025 ) if you're interested! i did change a few things i wasn't comfortable with writing tho, but the main thing comes from there
taglist is open!!!! (you can ask to be tagged in all the fics or just in the ones with a specific member!)
DAY 1: masturbation, orgasm control- dom!jungwon x sub!m!reader
your rommate, who you've been crushing on since the day you moved in, catches you masturbating and moaning his name.
DAY 2: coming untouched, kidnapping- sub!idol!sunghoon x dom!stalker!reader
your obsession with idol sunghoon park wasn't unknown. what your friends thought was a simple, innocent fan thing was hiding something darker. and one day you catch alone, outside the venue after a concert and finally your plan can come true.
DAY 3: threesome, nipple clamps- dom!niki x dom!jay x sub!f!reader
you and niki have been dating for so long, and you love him more than anything else... but there's one of his friends, jay, who lives in your mind rent free. one day, you find the courage to ask him for that long and awaited threesome.
DAY 4: voyeurism- dom!jake x sub!f!reader
jake and his secret little obsession for his best friend's girlfriend. one day he finds you and your boyfriend fucking and he can't help himself.
DAY 5: finger sucking, wax play, dacryphilia- sub!sunoo x dom!f!reader
you've always had a soft spot for sunoo's eyes, especially when they were filled with tears. you could almost swear he's at his best when he cries.
DAY 6: outdoor sex, humiliation, intoxication- dom!jay x sub!m!reader
jay just can't resist, he doesn't care if you're camping with his friends, if they are just a few meters way, if he just drunk more than a few beers... if he wants you he'll have you right there and then.
DAY 7: blindfolds, chastity, blood play- dom!niki x sub!m!reader
niki comes back home after the world tour, after months of not being able to see each other if not on a tiny screen and he prepared a little surprise for you... but the cage stays on.
DAY 8: webcam, cages- sub!jake x dom!f!reader
your favorite streamer offers private chat sessions and who are you not to buy one? it's like a dream came true.
DAY 9: exhibitionism- dom!heeseung x sub!f!reader (+members)
you spent the whole night getting on his nerves, from the way too short dress you chose to wear to how you've been all over the others during the dinner... heeseung's patience was growing thin and if you wanted to be slutty all night then he'd show the others how slutty you can really be.
DAY 10: oral sex, punishment- dom!sunghoon x sub!f!reader
you kept texting him during his meeting, his phone buzzing with notifications every few seconds— teasing him with pictures and flirty texts when you know he couldn't answer. when he arrived home and saw you legs open on the bed, he knew what he needed to do.
DAY 11: come licking, handcuffs- dom!cop!jay x sub!f!reader
you were arrested... but the sexy cop on the front of the car offered you a second chance, in exchange for something.
DAY 12: sex work, kneeling- dom!niki x sub!f!reader
your friend called a stripper for you as a birthday gift, she claimed you weren't living life at its fullest... despite everything, you definetely didn't mind.
DAY 13: dildos, sub-top/dom-bot, medical play- dom!sunoo x sub!m!reader
your boyfriends comes home after a long day in uni with an interesting idea... he claims he needs to destress and this is the only way.
DAY 14: omegaverse, possessive sex, chocking- omega!heeseung x alpha!m!reader
sometimes you think that your boyfriend hangs around too many alphas, you have to remind him he belongs to you only.
DAY 15: semi public, object insertion- sub!jungwon x dom!f!reader
there's something appealing about the mics in the studio and as you watched your boyfriend singing his song, his voice ethereal, you couldn't help but wonder if his inside were just as beautiful to hear
DAY 16: remote control, high protocol, fire play- sub!sunghoon x dom!f!reader
watching your boyfriend struggle to mantain his composure, the worried looks and being the only one who knows. sunghoon, despite his quiet image, lived on the thrill and you loved that about him.
DAY 17: messy sex, service sex- sub!jay x dom!m!reader
finally a night alone, just for the two of you— no band, no manager, no promos. it felt like ages ago you had sex for the last time.
DAY 18: size queen, dom/sub, genital torture- sub!jake x dom!m!reader
who knew your nerdy roomate had a thing for big dick? you never pictured him having sex, jake and sex in the same sentence wasn't possible and yet, after you saw him jumping up and down on that horribly big dildo you couldn't keep him out of your mind.
DAY 19: creampie, sensory depravation- dom!sunghoon x sub!f!reader
after hearing you complain about your boss all day long, sunghoon claims he knows the best way to forget about everything, to stop thinking... and of course you believe him.
DAY 20: forced orgasm- sub!heeseung x dom!f!reader
you were sure he spent the afternoon masturbating under that library table, looking at you the whole time as you studied. so when you finally caught him you chose to have your revenge.
DAY 21: quiet sex, crawling, gun play- dom!heeseug x sub!f!reader
heeseung was cruel. one of the cruelest men you ever met. but he was also as irresistible as he was mean. you knew he wasn't good for you, the typical half criminal boy your mom's warns you about... but each night, when he called you you answered.
DAY 22: biting, praise kink- sub!jungwon x dom!f!reader
jungwon's confidence is well known, but even he needs some reassurance sometimes.
DAY 23: mirror sex, golden shower, dubcon- sub!sunghoon x dom!m!reader
sometimes sex takes the best of even the most natural human instict.
DAY 24: anal sex, gags- sub!jake x dom!f!reader
your boyfriend has been so good lately, he deserves a reward. finally, you will allow him the one part of you he was never able to get. your ass that he worshipped so much, he'd finally have it.
DAY 25: double penetration, impact play, pillory- medieval guard!jake x witch!f!reader
he had been next to you all day, silent as he watched people pass by, throwing rotten tomatoes and screaming insults at you. all because they caught you having sex with the innkeeper behind your husband 's back. when the night comes and people slowly stop showing up you hear his voice for the first time. he offers you a chance of escaping, but it comes with a condition.
DAY 26: lingerie, sex robot- bttm!sunoo x top!m!reader
it was a mistake. the package arrived at the wrong address, you should've sent him back— but would it hurt to try it just once? when he came to you, wearing only some pink lace lingerie and looking so human like, his skin so soft despite being plastic... just this once, you said to yourself.
DAY 27: hair pulling- dom!jay x sub!f!reader
jay loved your hair, smelling them all the time, he loved styling them in the morning and putting little bows and clips on them that matched hid outfits. not even at night, in the silence of your shared room, he could keep hid hands off them.
DAY 28: multiple orgasm, s&m- sub!niki x dom!f!reader
you decide to put your boyfriend's stamina to the test.
DAY 29: body worship, omorashi, full body bondage- sub!sunghoon x dom!m!reader
there's something poetic about sunghoon, who you can't imagine ever having a hair out of place, squirming under your touch, begging to keep that last drop of dignity he has left.
DAY 30: breeding kink, fucking machine, degradation- sub!jake x dom!f!reader
your boyfriends keeps whining about how much he wants kids, distracting you from your show. you give him what he wants... or do you?
DAY 31: hot tub sex, writer's choice- heeseung x f!reader
heeseung takes you to a romantic getaway for your anniversary, you find a way to repay him for the sweet, relaxing vacation he gave you.
thirty-one days. thirty-one cravings. thirty-one ways to lose yourself. from the softness of sleepy touches to the sting of tears down flushed cheeks, from the chaos of monsters clawing at your skin—this is where your darkest fantasies awaken. this is where desire answers back. this is where you unleash.
⤷ kinktober 2025 taglist — open !
⤷ permanent taglist — open !
⤷ a/n — minors strictly do not interact. this collection contains explicit sexual content, graphic smut, and mature themes. by proceeding, you confirm you are 18+ and comfortable with dark, taboo, and potentially triggering material. read responsibly.
♱ day 1 — somnophilia with jungwon
♱ day 2 — dacryphilia with seonghwa
♱ day 3 — mirror sex with heeseung
♱ day 4 — overstimulation with soobin
♱ day 5 — edging with ni-ki
♱ day 6 — semi-public sex with jeonghan
♱ day 7 — praise kink with taehyun
♱ day 8 — ritual sex with sunoo
♱ day 9 — size kink with ni-ki
♱ day 10 — hair pulling with beomgyu
♱ day 11 — choking kink with joshua
♱ day 12 — face riding with san
♱ day 13 — sensory deprivation with jay
♱ day 14 — power play with yunho
♱ day 15 — birthday sex with heeseung
♱ day 16 — rough sex with jay
♱ day 17 — oral sex with wonwoo
♱ day 18 — food play with jake
♱ day 19 — temperature play with sunghoon
♱ day 20 — thigh riding with yeosang
♱ day 21 — monsterfucking with jungwon
♱ day 22 — phone sex with ni-ki
♱ day 23 — breeding kink with heeseung
♱ day 24 — cockwarming with sunoo
♱ day 25 — shower sex with jay
♱ day 26 — heat/rut sex with jake
♱ day 27 — aphrodisiac sex with sunghoon
♱ day 28 — exhibitionism kink with mingyu
♱ day 29 — voyeurism kink with mingi
♱ day 30 — corruption kink with heeseung
♱ day 31 — threesome with heeseung and jungwon
.‧₊࿐ AFTER DARK SERIES ( extras )
⤷ where lust lingers past midnight, where sins are sharper, dirtier, and far too tempting to resist. these are the secrets that never see the light of day—the ones whispered, clawed, and fucked out o f you when the night is at its darkest.
YOUR TURN — 1. A phrase used in a gangbang to tell the next person waiting that it’s time for them to step in and get involved.
2. A slut’s opportunity—the moment when it is finally her chance to act, indulge, and surrender herself after others have already taken theirs. The phrase emphasizes delayed gratification, where the receiver eagerly awaits her turn to be used or to participate after hearing others go before her.
content tags/warnings: hyung line x reader, reader is horny and desperate, men are assholes, inspired by the show series euphoria. explicit content (smut): porn with no plot at all, gangbang, face fucking, facials, nipple play, fingering, oral fixation, unprotected sex, degrading language, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling etc), double penetration, protected anal sex, slapping, hentai like expressions, handjob, overstimulation, tits fucking, squirting, lack of verbal consent in some scenes, choking, pain play, creampie, this is straight up porn but have a potential romance at the end. lmk if i missed something. WC: 17.2K
It wasn't like you were some kind of slut, right?
Who were you kidding? Any girl with a working pussy would drool if she stood close enough to those four men. Not just because of their looks, not just because of the sharp edges of their jawlines or the way their eyes seemed to strip people down without touching them, but because how they confidently carried themselves. Their scent. That mix of cologne and sweat that made your throat dry the second they passed by. It wasn't normal, not the way your body reacted. Not the way your thighs pressed together when you thought of them. But you kept telling yourself it was. It had to be.
Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun, and Park Sunghoon.
Four names that rang louder than any lecture in your university halls. Four names whispered in bathrooms, shouted across freedom walls, written down in anonymous confessions like some fucking campus legends. Everyone knew them. Everyone wanted them. And everyone, at least once, wondered what it would be like to be touched by them.
People pretended to sneer at their lives, at the rumors tied around them, but the truth always leaked through—envy, hunger, the kind of desperate need nobody wanted to admit out loud. Because deep down, every damn rumor about them only made them more untouchable, more godlike.
And then there was that one rumor. The one that tore through the university like wildfire.
The gangbang story.
The most scandalous, dirtiest thing anyone had ever whispered, and yet nobody could stop talking about it.
Nobody could prove it. Nobody knew if it was just a story made up by someone bored, but fuck, if it had been real... if it had been real, then you weren't sure what was worse. The fact that people called it disgusting or the fact that it made your whole body clench with jealousy.
How fucking scandalous. How fucking disgusting.
And how fucking pathetic that every time you thought about it, your chest got tight, your mouth went dry, and all you could think was: if that rumor had ever been true, if those four had ever taken a girl like that, then why the fuck wasn't it you?
"Someone caught Jake making out with a girl from Tourism!"
"Someone said Sunghoon's been fucking that sophomore from another building!"
"Have you heard that Jay is smoking at the back of the building while the TA sucks him off? Geez, what a lucky girl."
"And that cheerleader said Heeseung likes girls who can spread their legs wide!"
Your hands gripped your pen tighter, knuckles turning pale, jaw clenched as the chatter bled into your ears. Every fucking sentence was the same—different girls, different places, different dirty details—but the same four names, always the same four names. It was exhausting, it was maddening, and it was starting to chew holes into your focus.
"Stop it," you hissed finally, snapping your head up to face the group of girls clustered near the corner. "There are people here who are trying to study. Maybe try doing that instead of running your mouths about men and their sex lives. Do you have no shame?"
The table went quiet, their smirks twitching as they shared quick glances between themselves. One girl rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but none of them pushed back. They just leaned back into their seats, whispering low but not low enough, as if they wanted you to hear every giggle, every stifled laugh.
You tried to turn back to your notes, but your pulse wouldn't settle. You're not annoyed that they were gossipping.
You were jealous.
Jealous that every rumor had someone else's name attached to it. Jealous that every filthy story, every detail, every moan that lived in their words belonged to another girl and not to you.
Fuck! It's unfair! It's so unfair! Why was it always someone else? Why did it have to be another girl they kissed, another girl they bent over, another girl who got to hear their voices from fucking?
You exhaled sharply through your nose, trying to drown it out, trying to stay steady. But every word of theirs came back to the same thing. Their dicks. Their moans. Their fucking. And all it did was remind you that you hadn't had a single taste of any of it, not even once.
Fuck it. When was it supposed to be your turn?
You tried. God, you fucking tried. You started dragging yourself to every fraternity party you caught wind of, even ones you had no business going to, all in hopes of catching just one of their eyes. You would push through sweaty bodies and strobe lights, pretending to dance, pretending to laugh, only to learn that Jay had already gotten bored and left long before you even stepped in. The disappointment would choke you, but you still kept showing up.
Like some desperate puppy waiting for scraps.
You started waxing everything, every inch of your body, until your skin burned. You bought bottles of expensive perfume you couldn't even afford, ones that clung to your clothes and hair until it made you dizzy. You thought maybe, they liked girls who smelled clean, who looked like they had their shit together, but deep down you knew it didn't matter. Because how would they ever notice when you didn't even have the guts to open your mouth?
"Uh... do you know, like, how to talk to Heeseung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual while your eyes betrayed you, glued to the tall figure across the library.
He was sliding books off a shelf, completely unaware of the way your whole body went tense, your throat dry, your palms slick with sweat. Even from a distance you swore you could smell him, that same maddening warmth that clung to him whenever he walked past.
Your friend blinked, eyebrows raised as though she couldn't believe the words had actually come out of your mouth. "About what? You know damn well he doesn't talk to girls in public. People only talk about how he fucks them hard and then disappears. No contact. Nothing. Ever." She scoffed, dismissing it with a wave of her hand, before her gaze sharpened on you. A smirk tugged at her lips and she let out a loud laugh that made your ears burn. "Wait. Don't tell me you're actually planning something. You think you're gonna get him to fuck you?"
Her laughter made your eye twitch. You felt her gaze scan over you, up and down, picking apart everything you were, everything you weren't. She reached over, patting your shoulder in a way that only made you feel smaller.
"It's okay to dream big," she said, lips curving into a cruel little smile, "but let me shatter that for you. He would never, okay? Hmm?"
Something in your chest snapped at her words. Anger rose, clinging to your ribs until you thought you'd choke on it. How fucking dare she? How dare she look at you like that, laugh at you like you weren't even worth a second glance? How high did she think of herself, how low did she think of you?
But you swallowed it, burying the sharpness down where no one could see. You curved your lips into a laugh that sounded almost real, almost lighthearted, even though your nails dug into your palm under the table. "Silly you," you said sweetly, tilting your head like it didn't sting, "I was just trying to interview him for sports journalism. Don't get too talkative about fucking, though. It sounds like you're reflecting your own frustrations."
You smiled brighter, watching her expression falter for just a second before she scoffed again and turned back to her notes.
You needed to think. You needed to dig deeper into yourself, to find a way, any way, because you refused to lose. You refused to accept being invisible.
Every single morning became a routine.
You would drag yourself out of bed before the sun even touched the sky, forcing your heavy eyes open as you stood in front of the mirror. You styled your hair until not a single strand was out of place, you layered makeup carefully until your reflection looked like someone worth noticing, and you scrubbed your skin until it stung, until it shone smooth under your fingertips. Your closet was picked apart daily, clothes scattered across your floor, until you found the outfit that made you feel like you could walk down the hall with your head high, like you were worth a second glance.
And every time, when the clock struck the hour you knew they would be walking down the hallway, you stood ready. Shoulders straight, steps measured, chest tight with nerves as you waited for them to pass. You tried to look effortless, confident, perfect. But it shattered you every single time when none of them looked your way. Their eyes stayed forward, their voices low between themselves, their expressions unchanged as if you were nothing more than air. Your hands would grow limp at your sides, your confidence bleeding out of you as you glanced behind your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, helplessly staring at their broad shoulders moving further and further away from you.
The frustration followed you. At night, you laid in bed with their faces behind your eyelids, your thighs pressed together until you couldn't stand it anymore.
You touched yourself with the thought of them, not just one but all four, surrounding you, using you, making you theirs in every filthy way you had imagined. You came undone to fantasies of their hands pulling your hair, their voices groaning against your ear, your body stretched thin for them, and the pleasure left you gasping, sweating, shaking in the dark. Yet as soon as it ended, as soon as your heartbeat slowed, you already hated yourself. Because no matter how hard you wanted it, morning would come again, and the cycle would repeat. You'd wake up early, fix yourself to perfection, pass them in the hallway, and watch them ignore you.
The days blurred into each other, but the whispers always found you. Another rumor spread like fire, another story about them with another girl, and it burned you alive from the inside.
You wanted to scream at how unfair it was, how humiliating it felt that you couldn't stop aching for something you might never get. Sometimes you almost laughed at yourself, at how pathetic you must have looked, stuck between jealousy and desperation, unable to let go.
"Wow, what perfume do you use? You smell so good!" Your classmate's voice cut through your thoughts one day, her hand brushing casually across your arm. "And your lotion too? Your skin feels amazing."
The touch startled you, and the question almost made you snap. "It's just Victoria's Secret," you hissed automatically, jerking your hand slightly to free yourself. But the moment you saw her surprised face, you realized what you had done, and quickly masked it with a sweet smile. "Sorry, I'm in a bad mood, forgive me? It's Velvet Petals. But I exfoliate with Dove first. That's probably why."
Her lips curved into a bright smile, her eyes scanning you with something almost admiring. "It's okay! You look really, really, really pretty, you know? And you're so sweet. I just hope you don't fall into the wrong hands."
The way she said it made your stomach twist. You knew exactly who she was talking about, and the mocking tone in her voice when she mentioned "wrong hands" made it worse. Those fuckboys. That's what they all called them, as if the four of them weren't the most wanted men on campus, as if everyone's mouths didn't water at the thought of being ruined by them.
You held your smile, but inside, the anger returned, pulsing hotter than before. They all thought they were above you. They all thought they could talk about them like that and laugh at you for wanting something they secretly wanted too. They were liars, hypocrites, hiding their hunger under judgment while you carried yours openly in your chest.
You pressed your lips together, leaning closer to her so your words came out soft, almost playful. "Maybe falling into the wrong hands isn't always such a bad thing."
Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face as you sat back again, smiling politely like nothing had happened.
But in your head, the thought echoed, louder, heavier, filthier.
If those hands were theirs, you would fall gladly.
The party was dragging, the music pounding but lifeless, the people are drunk but boring. You wondered for the tenth time why you even bothered showing up.
The whole campus had been buzzing about this night, everyone whispering about how it would be wild because they would be here. But the most boring part of it all was exactly that—they weren't.
No sign of the four men everyone was expecting. And for that, you hated yourself a little. You hated that you had wasted another expensive outfit, another spritz of your favorite perfume, another hour in front of the mirror just to sit there and look pretty for nothing.
Your cheek rested lazily against your hand as you swirled the watered-down alcohol in your glass. Your eyes lingered on the girl across the room, perched on the couch, laughing with a group of guys who had crowded her like she was the crown jewel of the night. She looked so damn proud of herself, flipping her hair and soaking up their attention like it was worth something.
You almost felt bad for her—because those men? God, they were fucking ugly. The kind of guys who had nothing going for them except being loud and drunk enough to fill her space. And she was pretty, too pretty for the trash sitting beside her, too wasted to notice she could do better.
You sighed, your eyes dropping back down to your glass, watching the last pieces of ice melt into nothing. Maybe you should leave. Maybe you should give up, call it another wasted night, drag yourself back to bed where you could rot under the covers and imagine what it would feel like if the four men ever actually noticed you.
"Hi."
The single word pierced through the noise around you. Your breath caught, and you nearly threw your glass across the table. Your back went ramrod straight as you turned, your heart slamming against your ribs so hard it hurt. When your eyes landed on the figures behind you, everything inside of you went still before spiraling into chaos.
Jake. Sunghoon.
Two of them. Standing there. Talking. To you.
Your throat closed, your tongue heavy, your thoughts shattering into broken pieces as if the universe had finally played its sick joke on you. What the fuck was happening? Jake and Sunghoon—out of everyone in this crowded room—were standing in front of you, looking at you, waiting for you.
"H-Hi?" The word slipped out, so small, so shaky you almost cringed at yourself.
Jake's smile spread, his gaze running over you like he was unwrapping you with his eyes. He didn't hide the way he lingered on the pink silk dress clinging to your body or the way his eyes glinted when he caught the gems glittering delicately across your skin. The weight of his stare made your thighs press together without you even thinking about it.
"Where's your friends?" He shifted his hands casually into his pockets, flashing a smile. "I organized this party, you know. I almost felt bad seeing you sitting here alone."
You swallowed hard, the words tangling on your tongue. This was the moment you'd been waiting for, the one you had begged for, dreamed of, touched yourself over. And yet, your body betrayed you, trembling as you almost flinched under the weight of their presence.
"M-My friends a-are... uh... there." Your shaky hand lifted, pointing weakly toward the dance floor, and the second you did it you wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.
Sunghoon's low laugh broke the air. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he could see straight through every flimsy layer of composure you were trying to hold together. "And they exclude you? What bad friends you have."
The closeness of him made your brain dissolve. His perfume, his cologne, the sharp tang of alcohol still lingering on his lips—God, you wanted to taste it, to drown in it. He didn't even touch you, but his nearness was enough to make your body tense, your lips parting before you realized it.
"Want to join us?" Sunghoon asked smoothly.
"W-Where?" you squeaked.
"Well, we can drink outside—" Sunghoon started, but Jake cut him off with a voice that left no room for argument.
"At Heeseung's private room." His tone was steady, certain, his stare locked on you, waiting for your reaction.
For a split second, Sunghoon's eyes widened at Jake's bluntness. You caught the quick glance he shot him, an unspoken message passing between them, before his smirk slid back into place. He didn't need to argue. He didn't need to say a thing. Because the moment the words "Heeseung's private room" left Jake's mouth, your body had already betrayed you.
Your lips trembled, your voice breaking into a whisper. "Yes."
And there it was—the one word that sealed everything.
Jake's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he tilted his head ever so slightly, studying you like you had just handed yourself over. Sunghoon's grin widened, his teeth flashing as he straightened up, amusement flickering in his gaze.
"Good girl," Jake murmured under his breath.
Your chest tightened, your breath caught, and every ounce of you screamed that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had dreamed of, the moment you could never come back from.
And you didn't fucking care.
The door creaked open and Heeseung froze at the threshold, his tall frame stiffening instantly as his eyes landed on the scene.
Jake had one hand tangled in your hair, his cock buried between your lips, his head thrown back as he groaned through clenched teeth. Sunghoon was draped across your back, his chest pressing heavily against you, his hand pinching and rolling your nipples mercilessly while his lips brushed your skin, leaving icy trails that made you shiver.
Your body was positioned like some offering—hands and knees spread like a cat, ass swaying slightly with every thrust of Jake's hips.
"Seriously?" Heeseung's voice was carrying irritation. He shut the door, though he didn't walk away.
The noise made you whimper, muffled around Jake's cock, the vibration of your moan sending shudders up his spine. Jake gritted his teeth and hissed through a laugh, thrusting harder until the blunt head of his dick slammed against the back of your throat. He held you there with one firm grip in your hair, pushing until your nose bumped against the hard plane of his stomach. Your eyes watered, your chest heaved, but the desperation inside you drowned out every thought of resistance.
It hadn't started like this. At first, it was only drinks, games, laughter and teasing, until Jake leaned forward and suggested body shots. You hadn't even hesitated; the heat of their attention had already melted through you, and Jake had almost laughed at how quickly you had fallen into their hands.
And now, here you were, drooling and choking on his cock while Sunghoon twisted your nipples until your whole body jerked with every pinch.
"Your favorite member is here," Jake taunted, his gaze dropping down to you, then flicking toward the figure standing silently by the door. His smirk widened as he forced another thrust into your mouth. "Bro, she's been asking where the fuck you were. You took so long, she already came in her panties just from Sunghoon teasing her tits."
Heat shot through your face as the humiliation wrapped around you. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, staining the gems near your eyes, but none of it stopped you from flattening your tongue against the base of his cock, licking every inch you could reach while your throat spasmed around him. The shame twisted into a darker, sharper, more intoxicating feeling than you ever imagined.
This was it. This was the dream. The one you'd fucked yourself to in silence night after night, the one you had burned for. And now you were living it, choking, moaning, tears streaking your face, every filthy detail of it everything you had ever wanted.
You couldn't see Heeseung clearly from where you knelt, but you felt him. His gaze was heavy, dragging over you, making your pussy clench at nothing. You knew he was watching the way your lips stretched around Jake's cock, the way your chest heaved as Sunghoon tortured your nipples, the way you looked so fucked out and desperate already.
"The rumors about us are already spreading, and you have the guts to do this?" Heeseung's voice finally cut through with restrained anger. He stepped closer, his shoes quiet against the floor until his shadow stretched across you. You could feel his eyes on your crying, messy face, and it only made your cunt throb harder, soaking your panties.
Jake laughed through a groan, his hips grinding against your lips as his cock slid deeper. Sunghoon joined him with a low chuckle, his cold mouth pressing into your nape as his fingers tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The silk slipped easily, baring your chest fully to Heeseung's view, your nipples stiff and swollen as Sunghoon's thumb and finger rolled them until you moaned around Jake's length.
"Come on," Sunghoon murmured against your ear, his voice is taunting. "You know we always love sharing." His lips traced your skin as his hand pushed your dress lower, exposing more, leaving nothing for modesty.
Heeseung's jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed him. He couldn't look away. His cock stirred against his pants, hardening slowly with every sound that left you, with every pathetic little whimper muffled by Jake's cock. He watched the tears streak down your face, the way your hand lifted shakily from the floor, reaching for him.
Your fingers trembled as they hovered against his thigh, then slid higher until they brushed over the hard bulge in his pants. Your eyes lifted toward him, glassy, half-lidded, drowning in tears and lust, staring directly into his.
Heeseung exhaled sharply, his composure cracking.
And when your palm pressed firmer against him, stroking lightly through the fabric, his cock throbbed in response.
Your back arched off when Heeseung's hands moved to his belt. The sight alone was enough to make your chest tighten and your pussy throb, your body reacting with a hunger you couldn't disguise. Sunghoon caught it immediately, his laugh was low against your ear, mocking the way you looked so desperate without shame. He shifted off you, giving Heeseung room.
"Does Jay know about this?" Heeseung asked, his eyes shifting toward Jake and Sunghoon as if demanding an explanation even while his hands were already pulling at his clothes.
Jake's grin widened, still slick with your spit as he slid his cock from your mouth. "It's a surprise," he answered simply, as if that explained everything. His hand squeezed the back of your neck one last time before releasing you, and your body slumped against the mattress, chest heaving, throat raw. But before you could even recover, Heeseung's hands pressed against you, guiding your body flat onto your back, his touch so commanding you followed without question.
The world tilted when the fabric of your dress slipped from your shoulders, your body fully bared under their stares. Sunghoon leaned close again, his nose brushing your cheek as his voice dipped. "Look at those pretty eyes." His words curled into your skin, and you whimpered before turning toward him, your lips crashing into his. The kiss was messy, desperate, your mouth opening wide for him, your tongue tangling with his like you could pull the heat out of him and swallow it whole.
Jake's fingers hooked your panties and dragged them down your legs, his eyes glued to the slick mess between your thighs. The moment he saw your pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing, a growl broke from his throat.
Heeseung's response was just as guttural, his eyes narrowing as he dropped down onto his knees beside Jake, their shoulders brushing as if they were competing for the same prize. Without hesitation, they lifted your legs, spreading you shamelessly open, one of your thighs resting on each of their broad shoulders.
Sunghoon didn't let you breathe. His mouth consumed yours, his tongue pressing harder, his teeth tugging your bottom lip as his hand cradled your jaw, keeping you locked against him. You barely managed a moan into his mouth when the first hot lick dragged across your clit, the sudden sensation shooting up your spine that you tore yourself away from Sunghoon's kiss. Your eyes flew down, wide and dazed, only to meet Heeseung's sharp gaze staring up at you while his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking with deliberate, teasing pulls.
Your mouth fell open, your chest rising and falling rapidly, but you didn't dare blink. You couldn't miss the sight of his face buried between your legs, his tongue flattening against your sensitive bud and flicking so slowly it bordered on torture. Your thighs shook, trying to close, but his grip on your hips was unyielding.
"Hey," Sunghoon muttered, his fingers squeezing your chin until your eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was dark, narrowed, a flicker of jealousy twisting in it. "I was the one who found you. Give me some attention."
Your whimpers came small, but you still obeyed, your hand trembling as he guided it down between his legs. The hard ridge of his cock was burning against the fabric of his pants. The moment your palm pressed against him, your body shivered from the weight of him.
They were massive. You had heard the whispers from other girls, but no rumor had prepared you for the truth. Your fingers wrapped around him, squeezing gently through the fabric, and Sunghoon's lips parted, his breath catching as his hips rocked into your touch.
"Fuck," he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as if your touch alone was enough to push him toward the edge.
And then Jake bit down on your inner thigh, hard enough to make you cry out, his tongue following the sting with a wet, sucking kiss that left your skin marked. Heeseung's lips abandoned your clit, only to press lower, his tongue flattening against your dripping entrance before slurping noisily at the wetness pooling there. The sound was obscene, messy, and you moaned louder than you ever had, the combination of Jake's teeth marking your thighs and Heeseung's mouth devouring you unraveling every last thread of composure you had.
"Shh." Sunghoon's voice was ragged as his hand pressed against your jaw again, his hips grinding into your palm while his other hand fumbled with his belt. His pants dropped down his thighs, and when he freed himself, your eyes widened, your mouth watering instantly at the sight. His cock was flushed and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum, so thick it almost made your stomach flutter with fear.
Your legs were trembling uncontrollably, but you couldn't close them, not when Jake and Heeseung had you pinned wide open, their mouths swapping positions greedily between your clit and your entrance.
Jake was hungrier, reckless with the way his tongue plunged into you, his lips sucking against your folds so loudly it drowned out even the bass from the music downstairs. You could feel him moan against you, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, his whole face buried as if he wanted to drown in your pussy.
"Say ah," Sunghoon knelt in front of you, his cock gripped tightly in his hand. You obeyed instantly, your lips falling open, your eyes wide and locked on his face.
The expression he wore was enough to make your stomach twist—his brows drawn tight, his lips parted as if he were biting back a curse, his gaze focused entirely on your mouth as though nothing else in the world existed.
"So eager," he whispered hoarsely, his cock brushing against your lips as pre-cum smeared across them. "Fuck."
Heeseung rose slowly from between your thighs, his lips and chin slick with your wetness, his chest lifting heavily with each breath. His gaze drifted down over your trembling body, then to Sunghoon's cock hovering dangerously close to your lips, before his large hands moved to your chest. The weight of his touch was deliberate, kneading the softness of your breasts, his thumbs dragging over your nipples until they tightened again under his attention.
The combination was unbearable, your body jerking at every angle, twitching against their hands and mouths as if you no longer had control over it. Sunghoon's sudden pace had your cheeks hollowing, his cock stretching your lips as he thrust with low, restrained groans.
At the same time, Heeseung's fingers twisted your nipples mercilessly, sharp flicks that sent heat rushing to your core, and Jake's tongue was buried inside you, fucking your entrance with wet, eager strokes. Each movement pulled you in a different direction, your body caught in the middle of all three of them until you felt yourself unraveling at the seams.
Your head was spinning, dizzy from the sensation. The world tilted and blurred, your muffled moans spilling out against Sunghoon's cock, your tears streaking down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, but in the best way, better than anything you had ever experienced, better than every fumbling encounter that left you aching and unsatisfied.
This was hunger given form, this was desire being fed by three men who knew exactly how to break you. Every flick of Heeseung's fingers, every thrust of Jake's tongue, every push of Sunghoon's cock made your stomach coil tighter and tighter, until the knot inside you threatened to snap.
And then it did.
You came so hard it tore a strangled cry out of your throat, your body convulsing with the force of it. The orgasm crashed into you violently, your back arching off the bed, your legs trembling as Jake's hands clamped down on your thighs to keep you open.
You almost bit down on Sunghoon from the shock of it, your mouth clenching, your throat spasming, and he pulled back with a sharp hiss, his hand replacing himself on your lips to keep you from choking. But Jake didn't stop; he didn't even pause. His tongue twisted deep inside you, lapping greedily at everything you gave him, his head moving side to side as if he wanted to drink you dry. He held you down through every wave, prolonging the orgasm until you thought your body might tear apart from how hard you were shaking.
"Fuck, ah—fuck, shit," Sunghoon cursed above you, his voice breaking into a groan. His grip tightened on your jaw as his release hit suddenly, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face in quick, forceful bursts. Some streaked down your lips, some across your cheeks, and one stray spurt landed in your eye, stinging faintly but drowned out by the overwhelming tide of pleasure still wrecking your body.
You barely processed it, too lost in the pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm and the relentless flicks of Heeseung's thumbs still torturing your nipples. The sensation was too much, every nerve in your body stretched taut as Jake's mouth sealed back over your clit, his tongue circling lazily as he wanted to drag every last drop of climax from you.
Your sobs broke into gasps, your chest rising sharply, your face sticky with Sunghoon's cum, your throat raw from the moans you couldn't stop. And still, Heeseung's eyes stayed locked on you, darkly watching you writhe.
"I need to fuck her already," Heeseung finally muttered, already standing.
Jake stopped what he was doing and glared at him, his jaw clenched. "Who the fuck said you were gonna be first? I was the one who talked to her. I was the one who had her on her knees until now." His hands went to his shirt, ripping it over his head before shoving his pants down impatiently, his irritation burning through every motion.
Sunghoon sighed, throwing his head back, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed your shaky hand and wrapped it around his cock. "You two are always fighting about this shit," he muttered, ignoring the tension and letting you stroke him, his hips lifting slightly into your fist. His lashes fluttered shut as a low groan escaped him. "Fuck, that's it. Don't stop, baby. Just keep going. That's all I need."
"Fuck off," Heeseung snapped as he took a step closer. "You've both had enough time playing with her. I've been waiting, and I'm not standing here any longer."
Your eyes darted between them, your chest rising in short, desperate pulls of breath, before landing on Sunghoon again. He was still focused only on you, his hand over yours, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "Feels so fucking good," he groaned, his voice breaking, his neck exposed as his head fell back.
"That's why I get to be the first to fuck her," Jake shot back, standing tall now, his cock hard and throbbing against his stomach. His smirk was sharp, challenging. "You were late. I've been making her drip for me."
Sunghoon leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear, his lips brushing the corner of your jaw. "Ignore them, baby. Just focus on me." His other hand slid around your waist, tugging you closer until his lips pressed firmly against your neck. He kissed you hard, then nipped at your skin, his teeth dragging up to your jaw before biting again. You gasped at the sting, your hand stroking him faster, your wrist straining with the effort.
"Such a good girl," he moaned, his lips vibrating against your throat. His fingers slipped down your belly until they found your soaked pussy again, circling lazily around your entrance. The teasing pressure made you jolt, your moans tumbling out helplessly as he finally pushed one finger inside. Your walls clenched instantly, wrapping tight around him, and his sharp groan against your ear told you exactly how much he liked it. "So tight," he whispered, almost to himself, before sinking another finger inside.
"Sunghoon—" your voice broke, whimpering, the heat spreading too fast through your core as his hand worked inside you.
"Keep those pretty legs open for me, baby," he murmured, his lips dragging down to your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "Need to stretch this pussy for all of us. You want that, don't you? Want to take us all?"
Your only answer was a frantic nod, your lips trembling as your hand gripped his cock tighter, pumping him faster even as your own body shuddered from his fingers curling deep inside.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself too much, Sunghoon," Jake hissed, stepping forward. His hand shot out, pulling you roughly away from Sunghoon's grip.
You whined at the sudden loss, your body immediately protesting the absence of his fingers inside you.
"Shhh, darling," Jake cooed mockingly, wiping at your cum-stained face with his thumb before pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. His mouth was demanding, tasting, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before pulling back with a smirk. "Me and Heeseung will make you feel so fucking good. You want that, don't you?"
"Yes," you whimpered without hesitation, nodding quickly, your desperation spilling through. You turned on your hands and knees before they could even tell you, body moving on instantly because you knew. You'd heard the whispers. You knew this was how Jake liked to fuck—rough, from behind, with no mercy. "Please."
Jake's laugh was low, almost breathless as he stared at your ass. "Fuck, you don't even need to be told. So hot like this." His palm cracked against your cheek, the sting making you moan as he spread you open with his hands.
Your eyes flicked up, catching Sunghoon again—he was watching with his lip caught between his teeth, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking lazily as his gaze devoured you.
And then your eyes trailed higher, locking with Heeseung, who was standing in front of you, holding the base of his thick cock as if offering it to you. You opened your mouth instantly, ready to take him, but instead he grabbed your chin, tilting your head until you were forced to look up at him.
You sucked in a sharp breath when Jake's tip pressed against your soaked pussy, your entire body stiffening at the stretch before he even entered. His grip on your waist was bruising, anchoring you in place.
"Shit," Jake groaned under his breath, his voice breaking into a growl as he pushed in deeper. "How long has it been since you've been fucked like this? You're tight as fuck."
Your whimpers filled the air, your eyes locked on Heeseung's as he squished your cheeks between his large hand.
"Talk," Heeseung demanded, his eyes burning down into you. "Don't just sit there like a pretty little toy. Tell us what you want. Say it."
The moment he said it, Jake shoved his cock all the way inside you, the sudden fullness making your head drop forward with a cry.
"Moan louder. Scream our names. Tell us what to do to you," Heeseung ordered, pushing you to the edge as Jake's thrusts started to slam into you from behind.
"I—" you stammered through gasps, your body buckling under the rhythm. "I've been dreaming of this since first year." The confession tumbled out without filter, every word dripping with desperation.
Your honesty ripped a sound from both Jake and Sunghoon, low groans that mixed with the slick sound of your body being fucked. Heeseung's gaze hardened, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. Jake's thrusts grew harsher, his hips snapping against you with punishing speed.
"W-want all of you to use me—fuck me, please!" you squealed, your voice cracking as Jake's cock found that spot inside you and hit it mercilessly.
Jake's laugh was cruel, his words spilling out between moans. "Yeah? That's why you gave in so fucking easy? Thought we'd have to drag it out of you, but you just spread those legs like the slut you are." His hand clamped down on your arms, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you harder, each thrust shaking your body forward.
Tears pooled again in your eyes as you shook your head weakly, your voice breaking between cries. "N-not a slut! D-don't call me that—ah, f-fuck! Jake!"
But he only thrust faster, slamming into you, groaning at how you clenched so tightly around him the harder he degraded you.
"Yeah?" Jake's voice dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Then why the fuck are you here like this? Why are you dripping on me if you're not exactly what I called you?" His thrusts grew erratic, pounding straight into the softest spot inside you, making your knees tremble, making your nails dig into the sheets until your knuckles turned white.
You couldn't even answer him at first, because the way he was fucking you made your thoughts scatter, your mouth falling open as broken sounds spilled out. But then Heeseung was on you again, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling your head back so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.
"Come on," Heeseung murmured. His thumb brushed over your trembling bottom lip before tightening his grip on your hair, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Ignore him. Tell us what you need. Use that pretty voice."
Your chest heaved, your lashes fluttering, every nerve in your body screaming for more. "Want you—" your voice cracked, "want you all to fill m-my pussy up." The words came out broken, but loud enough for all of them to hear. Your body arched as another wave of Jake's thrusts sent shocks of heat through you, and you sobbed through your moan. "G-give me your biggest load, make me your toy for tonight—ahhh!"
Your scream broke off when Jake's hand slipped down, his fingers pinching your clit hard before slapping it over and over, sharp little bursts of pain crashing into the overwhelming pleasure. The mix had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your mouth falling open as drool slipped from the corner of your lips.
"Yes! Fuck, yes!" you squealed, your voice hoarse, your body jerking helplessly as the coil in your stomach twisted tight, tighter than before. Your thighs shook violently, your legs threatening to give out beneath you if it weren't for Jake's grip anchoring you in place. Every nerve screamed release, but he didn't stop, his cock drilling into you, his fingers punishing your clit until you were certain you'd break.
"Where do you want it?" Jake grunted against your neck, his thrusts almost brutal now, each one stealing the air from your lungs. "Where do you want me to cum, huh? Say it."
Heeseung tugged your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his again, his dark gaze pinning you as if daring you to answer wrong. Sunghoon's low groans filled the room behind them, the sound of his fist gliding over his cock only making the moment heavier.
Your lips trembled as you tried to form the words, every part of you shaking, drowning in pleasure, drowning in them.
"Anywhere," you gasped. "In my mouth, in my face, in my body, in my pussy—just fucking cum anywhere in me!"
"Fuck!" Jake groaned. His palm came down on your clit with a sharp slap that had your legs trembling so violently, your pussy clenching down on him with merciless tightness. The shock sent your body into another wave, your scream cutting through the air as you came hard around his cock, your walls fluttering, soaking him with everything you had.
The way you pulsed around him dragged him over the edge, his hips snapping forward with reckless speed until his cock throbbed and spilled, his hot cum spilling deep inside you in thick spurts that made your stomach twist with satisfaction. The moment you felt him paint your walls, you let out a long, broken moan, almost sobbing at how good it felt, how badly you'd needed it.
Heeseung finally let go of your hair, stepping back just far enough to watch you crumble under Jake. His eyes were locked on the mess between your legs, on the sight of Jake's cock still buried in you while his cum leaked out in slow, obscene drips.
His hand slid down his abdomen until he was stroking himself openly, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy. The look in his eyes told you he was seconds away from joining, and that thought made your clit twitch with aftershocks.
Sunghoon's chest rose and fell sharply as he leaned back, still stroking his cock at a steady rhythm, his gaze locked on you. His lips parted, his breathing uneven.
Jake's body eventually stilled, his forehead damp with sweat, his chest heaving with each breath as he looked down at your trembling frame. He pulled back slowly, letting his cock slide free from your swollen pussy. The moment he did, his cum began to spill out in a steady stream, dripping down your thighs and pooling between them.
He had never finished that hard before—he knew it, and from the stunned silence, so did the others. Even Heeseung's brows had furrowed at the sight, as if he couldn't believe how much you were leaking.
Your eyes fluttered half-lidded, your lashes wet with tears and sweat, your breaths shallow and uneven. Your body was heavy, limp from the storm that had wracked you, but somewhere deep inside, you found the strength to move your fingers, twitching weakly against the sheets. You weren't done. You couldn't be. You wanted more—you needed more. Your body begged for it, trembling but eager, your pussy clenching around nothing as if calling for another cock to fill you.
You forced your eyes open again, vision blurred with sweat and tears. And then—
"You're into this shit again?"
That voice. Deep, familiar voice, it cut through everything—the ringing in your ears, the haze in your mind, the pounding of your own heart.
Your pussy clenched instantly, as if your body recognized him before your brain could, a sharp rush of need flooding through you at just the sound.
"Took you long enough, Jay," Sunghoon muttered with a crooked smile, though his hand didn't stop stroking himself.
Jake looked up too, his chest still heaving, his hand dragging across his sweaty forehead, annoyance flickering across his features. Heeseung paused mid-stroke, his gaze narrowing, his jaw flexing as his attention shifted from you to the man at the door.
And you—your throat went dry, your lips parted, your heart slamming painfully against your ribs. Jay was here. Finally!
A soft, broken whine left your lips as your body shifted toward him. Jay's eyes sharpened, his expression was unreadable as he stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze swept over the room, over Jake still breathless, Sunghoon stroking himself lazily, Heeseung looming above you, and finally, it landed on you—sweaty, trembling, your face flushed and messy, your eyes wide and glassy as they reached for him.
He didn't move immediately. He just stood there, silent, his jaw tight, demanding the others explain without him saying a word.
But Heeseung didn't give him the chance. He gripped your legs firmly, dragging you down the bed until you were flush beneath him, your body spread and waiting. Jay's eyes narrowed as he caught the sight of your hand twitching toward him, so close yet so far, the longing in your movement almost pathetic in its honesty.
Before you could call out, Heeseung pinned your arms above your head, his fingers curling around your wrists with unrelenting strength. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and taunting. "No more waiting. I've already held back long enough."
And then without warning, he pushed his cock all the way into you in one brutal thrust.
Your scream ripped through the air, your body arching violently as he bottomed out, stretching you so suddenly you could hardly think. The slick of Jake's cum inside you made it easier, made it wetter, but it didn't stop the sharp, overwhelming sting of being filled again so completely, so roughly.
"Fuck—yes," Heeseung groaned, his forehead pressing briefly to your temple as he steadied himself, though his hips didn't slow. "Need to bury my dick inside this pussy before anyone else tries to stop me. If I wait another second, I'll lose my goddamn mind."
He began to pound into you without mercy, each thrust shaking your body, pushing you deeper into the mattress. The sound of it mixed with his growls and your cries until it was all one desperate rhythm. His pace was punishing, desperate, as if he needed to erase the traces Jake left behind, like he needed to make sure you remembered him the most.
Your eyes flickered open through the haze, and there's Jay.
He was still standing where he'd closed the door, but now his chest rose heavily. He was watching you, not Heeseung, not Jake or Sunghoon, but you—his gaze locked on your face, on the way your lips trembled around moans, on the way your eyes begged for him even while another man fucked you senseless.
The sight of him like that—stoic, his stare pinning you harder than Heeseung's grip ever could—made your walls spasm tight around Heeseung's cock. You couldn't move forward, couldn't reach Jay the way you wanted, Heeseung's weight pinning you down just as Jake had before. It was maddening, being fucked this hard while Jay stood so close yet untouchable.
"Look at you," Heeseung groaned, his pace ruthless, his cock battering your soaked cunt. "You're dripping, squeezing me like you never want me to leave. You love it—you fucking love it."
And he wasn't wrong.
Your mind was spiraling, torn between the brutal pleasure flooding your body and the heat of Jay's eyes locked on you.
Heeseung's hand slid up the side of your face, his fingers pressing into your cheek as he tilted your head toward him. The moment your lips brushed against his, you melted, kissing him back feverishly, moaning into his mouth as he swallowed every sound. His thrusts didn't falter, his cock dragging mercilessly against that spot inside you that had you unraveling so quickly, another orgasm barreling through your overstimulated body before you could even brace yourself. Your legs shook violently, your cries muffled by his mouth as you shattered around him again.
Jake, still hard and needy, didn't wait any longer. He stepped closer, ignoring Jay's looming silence, his cock already heavy and dripping. Sunghoon followed, stroking himself lazily, his smirk curling as he looked down at your messy face and trembling body. Heeseung adjusted his body and hold, his hand locking tightly around your waist as he slowed just enough to grind into you deliberately, rolling his hips in a way that pressed cruelly against your swollen clit and that spongy spot inside, teasing you, forcing more whimpers from your lips even as your body tried to recover.
When Jake and Sunghoon moved to either side of your head, you reacted instantly. Both your hands reached out to wrap around them, your fingers straining around their girth. A muffled moan escaped you, your eyes fluttering, as Sunghoon leaned lower, his hand sliding to your breast, kneading it roughly.
The sensation made you gasp, your lips parting, and Jake took the opportunity to rub his cock against your tongue. You sighed in bliss, your throat vibrating as you licked the tip, your saliva mixing with the sticky fluid still clinging to him from earlier. You sucked eagerly, slurping him down before switching, letting Sunghoon feel your tongue glide along the underside of his length, licking from his base to his leaking tip. All the while, Heeseung's thrusts grew sharper, pounding harder, each one jarring your body as he lost the battle with his own restraint.
"Fuck, you really wanted this, huh?" Sunghoon groaned, watching your lips wrap around him before sliding free. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding you lower, feeding himself into your mouth as his hips rolled slowly, deliberately. "Moaning with three cocks on you, and enjoying every second of it."
Your eyes watered as you let him push deeper, your throat tightening, but the messy desperation in your moans proved his words right. You pulled off with a wet gasp, kissing the head of his cock, smearing saliva across it before whispering against him.
"Love your cock... so much," you breathed, your lips brushing the tip, your eyes flicking immediately past him—toward Jay. That gnawing ache inside you swelled, and before you could stop yourself, your whine tumbled out. "Is Jay not gonna join?"
The room stilled at your words.
Jake chuckled dryly, tugging your wrist tighter around his shaft before thrusting into your hand with rough, impatient strokes. "You've got three cocks already and still not enough for you?" His voice dropped lower, his pace quickening as he fucked into your fist. "Can't even handle us together, but you're begging for more. God, you're insatiable."
Heeseung growled low in his throat, his thrusts growing faster, harsher, punishing you for even speaking Jay's name. Sunghoon hissed through his teeth as your grip on him tightened, his thumb brushing your spit-slicked lips.
"S-sorry!" you squeaked, your back arching violently as the three of them claimed every inch of your body with greedy, unrelenting hands. The sensations collided into each other, overwhelming, making it impossible to tell where one touch ended and another began.
Your skin burned under their palms, every squeeze, every slap, every tug forcing your body to twitch and your chest to heave with broken sobs of pleasure.
"Focus on us, you fucking bitch," Heeseung growled, dangerous enough to make your cunt clench so tight around him that his hips stuttered. He cursed, gripping your waist harder, his cock slamming into you with renewed force, each thrust demanding your full attention, demanding that you forget everything but him, but them.
Your eyes rolled back, your lips trembling, but you couldn't stop glancing toward Jay, couldn't stop feeling that magnetic pull toward his stare.
Jake grunted, his hand tangling roughly in your hair, yanking your head toward him as his cock brushed against your lips again. "Ignore him. You hear me? He's not the one inside you right now—we are. So open your fucking mouth and focus," his cockhead smearing across your tongue before pushing in, forcing your throat to stretch around him again. The taste of him mixed with the mess already dripping down your chin, and you moaned around his length, gagging slightly when he pushed deeper, his hips jerking at the sound.
Sunghoon, never content to let the others take more than him, pressed closer, his fingers pinching your nipple until you whined. "That's right. You're ours tonight, baby. All ours."
His hand slid lower, spreading you wider for Heeseung's relentless thrusts, his fingers brushing your clit in circles that made you sob.
Your words came out slurred. "Y-yours! All yours! F-fuck—I can't—ahh, I can't take it—"
Heeseung cut you off with a growl, thrusting deeper, harder, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each movement. "Yes, you can, slut. You'll take everything I give you." Your walls clenched even tighter around him, milking his cock.
"I'm not a fucking slut!" The protest tore from your throat just as another orgasm ripped through you, your body spasming violently.
Your legs tried to slam shut against the unbearable pleasure, but Jake and Sunghoon caught them instantly, spreading you wider, keeping you open, holding you there as Heeseung continued pounding into you mercilessly. Your moan stretched high, long, broken in its desperation as tears streamed down your face.
Heeseung pulled out abruptly, your cunt fluttering around nothing, before plunging three of his fingers inside you. The sudden stretch made your entire body jolt upward, your scream breaking into sobs as he fucked his fingers into you with a brutal pace. His palm pressed hard against your clit with every thrust, his thumb flicking over the swollen bud, making your vision blur and your mind scatter.
Your body shook violently, your head thrashing from side to side, your voice rising in hysterical sobs that filled the room. "Stop! S-stop! I'm gonna—I'm go-going to pee! Stop, wait! Please, wait—!"
Your arms tried to push them off, tried to squirm free, but Jake and Sunghoon pinned you tighter, one hand on each wrist, one grip on each thigh, keeping you spread open for Heeseung's relentless assault.
Heeseung's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he kept driving into your pussy with his fingers, your slick coating his hand, dripping down his wrist, the sound of it loud and wet. His cock twitched angrily in his other hand as he stroked himself in slow pulls, groaning low in his chest. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't fight it. Let it out for us. Show us how much you need us."
Jake leaned closer, his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs. The obscene squelching filled his ears, making his cock ache again. "Fuck—listen to her pussy. She's about to—" His words cut off with a groan as his own hips rutted helplessly into the air.
Your high-pitched scream tore through the room as the dam inside you finally snapped.
A gush of hot liquid burst from your pussy, splattering over your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath you, drenching Heeseung's hand and face as he ducked lower, moaning against the spray. The force of it made your ears ring, your vision blur, your body convulse helplessly.
It was humiliating, overwhelming, devastatingly good. You sobbed openly, your face slick with tears and spit, Sunghoon's cum already drying against your skin, and now your own release coating everything around you. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your legs twitching and kicking weakly until Jake and Sunghoon finally let them fall open to the side.
You curled inward, your arms wrapping protectively over your chest, your body folding small as though you could hide. But the sheets were soaked beneath you, the air heavy with the scent of sex, the room echoing with your broken cries.
"So good," Heeseung's lips parted against your soaked skin and licked at the mess you left on his face. His eyes fluttered shut, his strokes on his cock tightening, his hand gliding through the mixture of your slick and squirt.
"Get the fuck to the side. I'm going to taste it." Jake's hand already twitched toward you, greedy and impatient.
Sunghoon's laugh came rough and breathless, his chest rising and falling as he lazily stroked himself, his eyes locked on the wet ruin between your thighs. "Bro, shut the fuck up. You already had your turn. It's my turn now."
Sunghoon leaned forward, dragging his tongue over your cheek, licking at the tears that stained your skin before pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"Step aside. I'm not done yet." Heeseung shoved Sunghoon out of his way, his hand already on your thigh, forcing your legs apart with a strength that made your body jolt.
"W-wait—" your voice broke, a weak sniffle escaping as you tried to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly, overstimulation already threatening to unravel you further.
The stretch of your thighs, the way Heeseung's fingers pressed into your skin, it all made you flinch with both anticipation and fear. You weren't sure if you could take more, but your body betrayed you, your cunt twitching at the thought of him filling you again.
"Dude, no fun," Sunghoon muttered, irritation coloring his tone as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still tasting you there. His cock twitched in his fist, but he leaned back with a scowl.
"Three of you step back. You can't even take care of her." Jay's voice cut through the air, commanding, silencing all of them in an instant.
Your head turned instinctively toward him. The sound of his voice sent a violent shiver down your spine, your pussy clenching around nothing as though it had been waiting only for him. Your chest hitched, your lips parting on a desperate little whimper that you couldn't hold back. "J-Jay..."
Jake scoffed from the other side of the bed, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, but the flash of annoyance in his expression didn't hide the way his chest rose faster, as if even he knew Jay's presence shifted everything. "She's fine. Don't act like you're the savior now."
Jay's gaze flicked toward him, before returning to you. He moved closer until he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at your trembling body. "She's more than fine. She's a mess. Look at her." His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed over you—your soaked thighs, your trembling legs, your chest that still rose and fell unevenly. His voice softened. "She's mine to take care of."
Heeseung growled low in his throat, clearly unwilling to back off, his body still hovering over you. "We've already broken her in. Don't come here acting like you own her now." His fingers dug into your thigh harder, spreading you wider as if to make his point.
Jay's expression didn't shift, though his eyes burned darker. "Then move. Or I'll make you."
You breathe heavily, looking at the both of them. And you—your body trembled violently, torn apart by the clash of their voices, but deep down you knew what you wanted. Your lips quivered, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "I... I want Jay..."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Heeseung froze above you, his eyes narrowing dangerously, while Jake let out a low laugh, though the jealousy in it was sharp. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, biting his lip as though amused but also curious to see what Jay would do.
Jay leaned closer, his hand reaching out to brush your messy hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle after all the roughness you'd endured. His thumb stroked over your damp cheek, wiping at the dried tears. His gaze softened as he looked at you.
"Here I thought I was your favorite," Heeseung muttered, finally releasing the tight grip he had on your leg. Beneath the teasing, a mix of bitterness and disappointment that made your chest ache even in your haze.
Jake snorted, throwing a smirk in Heeseung's direction. "Don't flatter yourself. She probably still thinks you're her number one. She just wants another cock inside her because that's what sluts do." His words were cruel, but his retreat was obvious, stepping back from you, his chest still heaving.
Heeseung only shrugged at that, but his eyes flicked to you once more before he turned his head away.
Your lips trembled, guilt and shame mixing with the raw need still burning inside you. You tilted your head toward Jay, your voice coming out as the weakest of whispers. "D-do you want me to clean up first?" The moment the words left your mouth, your chest tightened—afraid he might flinch, afraid he might see you the same way Jake just called you.
But Jay only smiled softly, shaking his head as though the thought was absurd. "It's alright, angel."
The simple reassurance broke something in you. Your eyes stung all over again, but before the tears could spill, his mouth was already moving lower, pressing a trail of unhurried kisses along your inner thigh. Each press of his lips lingered. By the time his lips hovered just above your swollen core, his pointed nose brushing lightly over your sensitive clit, your back had already arched off the sheets in anticipation.
You gasped softly, when his tongue finally slid against you. Hot, steady, and so focused, his tongue swirled around your folds before slipping inside you, teasing your oversensitive walls with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The contrast to the brutal pace you'd been enduring was staggering—he wasn't just eating you out, he was savoring you.
Your hands flew instinctively to his hair, trembling fingers tangling into his dark strands as you moaned helplessly, your chest rising and falling with every wave of sensation he drew from you. "J-Jay..." His name slipped from your lips brokenly.
He hummed against your cunt at the sound, the vibration making you twitch as his tongue moved deeper, stroking places inside you that made your toes curl. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you still when your thighs tried to clamp shut around his head from the overwhelming pleasure.
Behind him, you could feel the others watching—Heeseung's silence heavy, Jake's low scoff, Sunghoon's quiet hum of approval—but all of it blurred into the background when Jay moaned against you, drinking you down.
You whimpered, tugging at his hair as your hips bucked weakly into his mouth. "S-so good... I can't, I c-can't hold it—"
Jay pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes dark but soft. "Then don't. Let go for me, angel. Just me."
And with that, he dipped his head again, his tongue flicking against your clit with quick, precise strokes while his fingers slid inside you, curling expertly until you were screaming, until your body was trembling so hard you thought it might break apart.
Jay let go of your trembling body, his lips brushing once more against your temple before he finally shifted back. The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt at the edge, the leather of his belt creaking faintly as his fingers tugged at the buckle.
You knew the night had only just begun, but here in this room it already felt like you had been devoured whole, like there was no way out.
"Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" Jay's voice broke through, deceptively calm, his palm gliding down the curve of your thigh, rubbing in a slow rhythm as if coaxing you into trust.
Your lashes fluttered, your chest seizing as though his words had cut the air straight out of your lungs. "H-Huh?" Your voice cracked, eyes wide, searching his expression for some sign of softness that might match the way he'd just held you.
From your left, Jake let out a muffled laugh, the sound harsh against the fragile silence that followed your confusion.
Jay's hand didn't falter. He pressed a little higher on your thigh, the pads of his fingers stroking, teasing, until finally one circled lower, grazing a place that had never been touched this way before.
His tone was as gentle as before, almost sickeningly so. "I asked," he repeated slowly, "have you ever been fucked in your ass, angel?"
The tip of his finger brushed against your rim and you gasped, the breath caught sharp in your throat as heat and panic flared all at once. Your body jolted, betraying you. You couldn't even find the words, your head turning automatically toward the other three. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon—all three watching you intently, not a single one offering you an escape.
You shook your head quickly, shame coloring your cheeks as your voice finally stumbled out. "N-No..."
Jay's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "On your arms and knees, then. I'll be gentle with you."
The smile was soft, but you could already feel the deception in it. You should've known by now—Jay only looked gentle when he wanted you to obey.
Your tears hadn't even dried when you felt his finger pressing more firmly at your rim, the tight, foreign intrusion making your body stiffen. The burn was immediate, sharp, a sensation your body didn't know how to handle. He twisted his finger slowly, deliberately, and the stretch made you whimper, your hands clawing desperately at the sheets.
"C-can't take it," you cried, shaking your head, your vision blurring again. Your body writhed under him, desperate for someone—anyone—to stop him.
"Hurts, Sunghoon. It hurts!" Your arm reached blindly for him, searching for comfort.
And Sunghoon leaned in instantly, catching your reaching hand, his lips brushing your temple in mock sympathy. "Shh," he cooed, the sound almost tender if not for the wicked edge beneath it. "I thought you were a good girl? You've been dreaming about us for so long, haven't you? This is what you wanted."
Your sobs shook your chest, but your body betrayed you again—clenching around Jay's finger, trembling from every deliberate twist.
On your other side, Heeseung moved closer, crouching low until his chest brushed against your arm. He caught your free hand and guided it toward him, pressing your palm around his cock. "Come on, baby. Use those hands. Don't just cry. Make yourself useful while Jay breaks you in."
Jay's finger pushed deeper, the slow stretch pulling another ragged sob from your throat. He watched you closely, his jaw tight, his cock already heavy in his hand as he stroked it lazily. His lips curved again, "relax, angel. Breathe. I'll make it hurt less if you beg me properly."
When Jay finally pulled his finger free, your body sagged in relief—but it was short-lived. The sharp tear of foil reached your ears, and your stomach flipped as the sound registered. You forced your head to lift, desperate to see him, but Sunghoon's hand kept you locked in place, his grip so firm on your hair that you couldn't move. He angled you down toward Heeseung's cock again, your mouth spreading open around him until you gagged.
You heard the faint snap of latex as Jay rolled the condom down his thick length, the squirt of lube slicking the air before his fist wrapped around himself, stroking with slow pumps. You tried to tilt your head to catch a glimpse, but Sunghoon tugged hard, forcing you to choke around Heeseung's cock. Your throat tightened painfully as you coughed against the intrusion.
"Hmp—!" Your cry was muffled, spilling against Heeseung's cock as Jay pressed forward. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your rim, stretching you in ways you weren't prepared for.
Jay's groan vibrated through the room, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider, making you tremble as the burn ignited again.
Your throat was stuffed with Heeseung's cock, and every shallow thrust into your mouth came with another humiliating gulp, gulp, gulp. Each noise mingled with Jay's ragged breathing as he sank himself slowly into your ass.
By the time his cock buried itself halfway, your hands had flown to Heeseung's thighs in desperation, nails scratching down his skin as your throat tried to adjust. Heeseung hissed sharply at the sting, then abruptly pulled out, your mouth gasping for air as you coughed and sobbed.
"Bitch," he spat, slapping your cheek with enough force to sting. Your head tilted from the impact, tears spilling harder as you whimpered against the mattress, your body trembling uncontrollably.
The sound of the slap cracked through the room—and the shift in the air was instant. Jay froze, his dark eyes snapping up, his jaw tight. Slowly, he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his cock still halfway inside your ass as he fixed his glare on Heeseung.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?"
"She fucking scratched me—" Heeseung started.
Jay's glare sharpened, cutting him off. His hand curled around your hip, steadying you as he leaned closer until his lips brushed your ear, his words meant for both you and Heeseung. "Apologize. To her. Now."
Heeseung's jaw flexed, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but under Jay's burning stare, he finally muttered, "...Sorry."
You sniffled, your face pressed to the sheets, too shaken to respond. Jay's grip on your hip softened just enough for his thumb to caress you. "You okay, hmm?"
You swallowed hard, unable to find your voice, and forced yourself to nod against the sheets. Your chest rose and fell in shuddering waves, but you needed him to believe you could take it.
Jay hummed softly, almost like praise. "That's it. Breathe for me, angel. Let me in. Don't hold back." His hips pressed forward again. The intrusion stretched you open slowly, your body fighting to keep up with his size. The burn sharpened into an unbearable sting, and you screamed into the mattress, toes curling tight against the sheets as you struggled not to collapse.
Sunghoon's hand smoothed over your hair, patting your head with a tenderness, so comforting that make you whimper. "Good girl," he whispered, as though you needed his approval just to keep breathing.
Then Heeseung moved closer, his hand sliding between your thighs to press against your soaked pussy.
"Sorry, baby." His palm cupped you carefully, you flinched at first, but when he leaned in, his lips closing over your nipple, sucking hard, the sharp edge of pain dulled under a rush of pleasure. The shift made your back arch violently, the cry that tore from you high and desperate.
"Ahh! F-fuck!" you screamed, voice cracking, torn between pain and bliss.
Jay grunted at the way your body squeezed around him, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to pull it back behind you like a lever. His other hand gripped your shoulder firmly, anchoring you while his hips snapped forward with force. Each thrust sent a wet smack echoing through the room, skin colliding with a punishing rhythm.
Heeseung groaned against your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his fingers pressed harder into your clit, rubbing circles that sent shocks of sensation racing through your trembling body. The mixture of Jay's brutal thrusts and Heeseung's eager mouth had you thrashing.
You never thought being filled that way could drag such a storm out of you. The sting that had first made you sob now twisted into something overwhelming, a blend of fire and honey that made your body betray you with every clench. Each thrust blurred the line between pain and euphoria until you couldn't separate one from the other, only the dizzy rush that kept forcing cries from your throat.
At some point, you lost track of who was where.
You were a doll passed between them, shifted and handled, your body too pliant to resist, too consumed by sensation to understand the movement until it was already happening.
When Jay lifted you with an arm hooked under your ribs, carrying your trembling weight as though you were light as air, your limbs hung loose, hair falling forward like a curtain, your head lolling against his chest. The world was hazy, sound muffled except for their voices and the unrelenting rhythm of flesh against flesh.
You moaned uncontrollably, the sound spilling out of you even before Sunghoon pushed inside your swollen pussy. He didn't wait, he didn't tease—he slid in deep, and the stretch dragged another cry out of your throat.
Jake positioned himself over you, his hands squeezing your tits roughly, pressing them together around the length of his cock. He thrusted between them with a feral need, groaning at the slick heat as he forced you to keep your trembling arms raised so you couldn't rest, so none of them were ignored.
Your muscles screamed, the burn in your shoulders mixing with the fire between your legs. Yet the harder it became to hold on, the more your moans broke apart into helpless sobs.
"Shit! So fucking good!" Sunghoon moaned, usually he was silent, the one who held back while the others filled the air, but now his restraint had shattered. His moans came rough and guttural, pulled from his chest with every thrust, his expression twisting into something close to pure bliss. Each time his hips met yours, the sound that tore from his throat was louder, rawer, until you realized he was trembling too—losing himself in you just as much as you were unraveling under him.
Your vision blurred at the edges, tears clinging to your lashes, the ringing in your ears drowning out everything but their voices and the wet sounds of bodies colliding. Orgasms tore through you one after another, piling so fast you couldn't separate them anymore. You were trapped in the spiral of it, begging without thought, "Y-yes, fuck, yes—I can't stop—I need it—please, don't stop!"
Your body betrayed you completely, arching up even as you wanted to collapse. The adhesive gems clinging to your eyelids sparkled faintly under the light, miraculously still in place as your eyes rolled back, your tongue slipping free from your mouth with no strength left to hold it in. You were a mess, unrecognizable even to yourself, but they devoured every second of it.
Jake groaned low in his chest as his cock pulsed, spilling over your tits, hot ropes covering your skin until you were painted in him. He slapped your chest once more, watching it smear across your breasts before stumbling back, his body giving out as he dropped onto the mattress, panting heavily, drained but satisfied.
The moment you were freed from him, your lips were claimed again. Heeseung and Jay's mouths fought for space against yours, kissing you with different kinds of urgency—Jay deep and consuming, Heeseung sharp and demanding. Their lips pulled moans out of you you didn't even know you had left, your eyes shut tight as your mouth parted helplessly between them.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon's cock dragged deeper inside you, angling until it brushed that spot that made your whole body spasm. The rhythm of his thrusts grew steadier, more desperate, his hips slamming into you with a pace that made your chest heave and your breath hitch against the mouths kissing yours. He was unrelenting, he couldn't stop himself, your body had unlocked something in him he never wanted to let go of.
Sunghoon's control shattered first. His jaw clenched, veins standing out along his neck as he pushed deeper, his movements rough and unsteady, every thrust dragging a desperate sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted back, a moan ripping from his throat as his stomach tightened, the pleasure consuming him faster than he could handle. He bit down on his lip, but it wasn't enough to stifle the way his body shook while his cock throbbed violently inside you.
You felt the hot flood of his release filling you in long, uncontrollable spurts. It spread thick through your core, making your walls clench tighter as though your body wanted to keep him there, to hold every drop.
The sensation was so overwhelming that your back arched high into Jay's chest. He caught you easily, his large hand spreading over your breast and kneading. His lips swallowed your broken moans, his tongue sliding deep until you whimpered against him, unable to keep up.
Your hips jerked when Sunghoon finally spilled the last of his release, the force of it pushing some of his cum to seep out around his cock. He slumped forward, chest heaving, but his grip on your waist betrayed his reluctance to leave you. He wanted to stay buried, to keep claiming you—but his body gave out, and with a low groan he pulled free, his length glistening as it slid from your swollen cunt.
The loss of him left you trembling, and before you could even breathe, Heeseung was already there. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers parting your slick folds without hesitation. He rubbed over your swollen clit in tight circles, faster, sharper, and your lips tore away from Jay's kiss to scream, your cry echoing through the room as a new wave of sensation tore through you.
Sunghoon's cum was still dripping from your pussy when Heeseung's fingers slapped against your sensitive clit. The sharp sting made your hips spasm, jerking upward uncontrollably, the sound of the wet slap filling the room. Your thighs shook, but Jay's hand on your chest kept you pressed firmly against him, forcing you to take it all.
"So fucking hot," Jay groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down just enough to leave a mark. He soothed the bite with his tongue before sucking at the spot, leaving his claim branded into your skin while you cried softly beneath him.
"Come on," Heeseung coaxed. He gave your clit another sharp slap that made you gasp, your entire body twitching. "Breathe. Deep. You've still got two cocks waiting for you."
Your body was trembling, the exhaustion in your muscles fighting against the need clawing through your veins. Every part of you screamed for a pause, a moment of stillness, but your lips betrayed you, spilling soft, broken words into the heated air.
"...cock... want more..." you whispered, not even sure if you meant to say it out loud, but the second it left your mouth, they moved.
They shifted you onto Heeseung first, his broad chest rising under your palms as he positioned himself at your entrance. Your thighs burned as you straddled him, but you couldn't stop yourself from lowering down, grinding until his thick tip slid past your folds, the friction making your entire body quiver.
Heeseung's eyes darkened immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you, feeling the way your heat stretched around him.
Jay stood behind you, his movements methodical as he tore open another condom with his teeth. He rolled the latex down over his length with one hand, the other already spreading over your lower back, holding you steady. His touch was careful, deceptively gentle, even as you felt the blunt press of his cock teasing your other entrance.
The stretch made you scream, your head snapping back to his shoulder as his cock slowly pushed inside your ass. Your tits arched forward, bouncing in Heeseung's face, and he groaned like he was seeing heaven itself, his mouth immediately latching onto one nipple. His tongue flicked hard before he began sucking greedily, moaning against your skin, drowning himself in the taste of you might keep him from unraveling completely.
He told himself not to get attached, not to think beyond the raw act of it but as he looked up, catching the sight of your face twisted with both pain and euphoria, your lashes damp with tears, your lips parted, your flushed cheeks glowing, he was gone. So fucking pretty, too pretty for this. His chest tightened, his teeth sinking into his lip, half-lidded eyes watching you lose yourself while he thrust up into you.
"Ahh—fuck! S-so good! Feels so good!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as both of them found their rhythm inside you.
Jay's arm slid tighter around your middle, pulling you back against him, while his other hand anchored hard on your shoulder.
Each drive of his hips made your body lurch forward, and every time he withdrew, Heeseung thrust upward to meet you, their cocks colliding through the thin barrier inside you. The pressure was relentless, unbearable yet addicting. You felt so full, so completely wrecked, yet you didn't want them to stop.
Your head fell back against Jay's shoulder, your throat exposed, your lips trembling as the sounds poured out of you unrestrained. His gaze locked onto you, never wavering, watching every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes, every blissful break in your voice.
His stomach coiled tight when he saw you smile through your moans, blissful grin that said you were floating in a haze beyond reason.
And then—when you let out a delirious laugh, drunk on cock and pleasure—both he and Heeseung nearly lost control.
"Shit... fuck, look at her," Heeseung moaned against your chest, thrusts erratic as your pussy clenched harder, milking him. His thumb found your clit again, circling with ruthless precision, making your hips twitch violently in their hold.
"Fucking cockdrunk," Jake muttered from the side, his voice strained, his hand already wrapped tight around his cock as he stroked himself, eyes devouring the sight of you stuffed full between Jay and Heeseung.
"Unbelievable..." Sunghoon hissed, though his body betrayed his words as his cock hardened again at the sight. His chest rose sharply, his jaw tightening as his eyes burned into you, unable to look away.
And you—you were flying. Your entire body trembled, sweat dripping down your back, every nerve set alight as two cocks pounded into you in perfect rhythm, stretching you in ways you never thought you could handle. You weren't just moaning anymore—you were laughing, delirious, euphoric, because nothing had ever felt this good. The world outside didn't exist. There was only this. Only them. Only the way your body sang under their hands, under their cocks.
You were living your best fucking life, and in that moment, you knew you never wanted it to end.
"Shit—I'm gonna cum," Heeseung groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his thrusts grew uneven. You couldn't help yourself, couldn't stop your body from pushing back onto his cock, greedy for every last inch.
"Need it—please, I need you to cum inside me—don't hold back," you moaned.
Jay tightened his bicep around your throat, dragging you flush against him as his lips pressed against your temple. "Take it, angel. Take all of him."
The heat in your chest exploded when Heeseung moaned loud and emptied inside you. The sound of his voice made your heart lurch even as your own orgasm tore through you again. Your walls clenched so violently that his cock twitched helplessly, spilling thicker and thicker ropes of cum until you could feel the weight of it stretching your stomach. The mess spilled from the corners of your folds, warm streams dripping down your thighs.
But before the haze could settle, Jay's voice cut through. "Pull out, Heeseung. It's my turn—I want to cum in her too." His arm around your throat tightened, pulling you higher onto him, your back arching as his cock slid free from your ass, still painfully hard.
Heeseung hesitated, his chest heaving, his eyes narrowing like he didn't want to let go of the heat he'd buried himself in. He gave a sharp exhale of frustration but finally withdrew, his cock wet and shining as he let you slip from him.
Jay didn't waste a second. He yanked off the condom, tossing it carelessly aside, then pushed his length inside your pussy still dripping with Heeseung's load. The stretch burned, but the mix of fluids made him slide in effortlessly, and the sensation had your toes curling instantly.
"Fuck—fuck, she's so wet," Jay groaned, his forehead pressing against the side of your head. His pace was punishing, his hips snapping against your ass as his hand gripped your hip to anchor himself.
"Can't hold it—gonna fill you—"
The moment he buried himself deep, his body stiffened, and he spilled hot inside you. His growl vibrated against your ear, the sound of his release mixing with your own helpless moans. You could feel it, the pulse of his cock as he filled you so completely that the mix of him and Heeseung spilled back out, dripping into a sticky mess beneath you.
It took a long moment before they both released you, your body sagging limp between them. You barely had the strength to move when Jake stepped forward, his hand already pumping his length with urgency, his eyes locked on your face. Sunghoon moved with him, their cocks standing tall, both of them crowding your view as you were laid down on your back.
"Open up, baby," Jake ordered.
Your lips parted, tongue falling out on instinct, the salty taste of precum already smearing across it as they fisted themselves harder. Their groans overlapped as thick spurts painted your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, dripping down your neck and into your hair. You swallowed what you could, eyes rolling back at the sheer dirtiness of it, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.
You stared blankly at the ceiling, vision hazy, ears ringing so loud it felt like you were underwater. Your head was spinning, the room tilting, but your body was already being turned again.
Your limbs flopped uselessly as Jake forced his cock back to hardness, guiding himself to your ass, while Heeseung gripped your legs wide, holding you open as though your exhaustion didn't matter.
One by one, they took their turns again, each of them sliding into your abused body, spilling more inside until it felt like there wasn't any part of you left untouched. Your mind was gone, floating somewhere else, your mouth hanging open without sound, and still, they didn't stop.
The last thing you remembered was Sunghoon's icy hands spreading your folds, his voice low with awe as he stared at the mess dripping from your swollen used pussy—thick white streams still spurting.
And then you passed out, swallowed by the overwhelming haze of pleasure and exhaustion, your body twitching even in unconsciousness, your mind lost in the aftershocks of everything they had done.
You woke with a body that felt heavier than stone, every inch aching. The room was quiet except for the soft snores surrounding you.
You shivered, realizing the air was cold against your damp hair and clammy skin, only to notice the weight of arms draped over you—two different hands anchoring you in place. One was around your waist, pulling you back into a solid chest, the other rested lazily on your hip.
You blinked hard, trying to gather yourself, and only then did you notice you were clothed, though barely. Someone had slipped a shirt over you, but it was hiked up high, baring most of your thighs. Heart pounding, you tilted your head, your breath catching when you saw Jay's face so close to yours. His features were peaceful, his brows relaxed, lips parted just slightly as a soft groan escaped him. Even in sleep, he pulled you tighter into his chest.
"What the fuck..." you whispered under your breath, pulse racing as heat rushed to your cheeks.
Your gaze dropped lower and froze. Sunghoon's head rested against your chest, lips slack and still attached to your nipple. His hand was curled around your waist too, fingers twitching. The memory of his face twisted in pleasure, his voice breaking with moans, hit you so hard that your thighs clenched instinctively.
You stifled a sound, your whole face burning.
Carefully, with your fingers trembling, you began to pry their hands off one by one, moving Jay's arm and slipping Sunghoon's hand back over his own body. It felt like sneaking out of something you weren't supposed to survive. But before you could breathe in relief, your eyes darted downward—and you almost screamed.
At the foot of the bed, sprawled across like he owned the space, was Jake. His cheek was pressed into the mattress, lips parted as he breathed heavily, his bare chest rising and falling. He looked so soft like this, so far from the rough, taunting voice that had wrecked you just hours ago.
Your stomach flipped.
"What the hell..." you whispered again, a little louder this time, biting your lip as panic swirled in your chest. You couldn't stay here. Not with the memories flashing in your head.
Ignoring the deep ache in your thighs and the heaviness weighing down your limbs, you tiptoed around them, snatching your heels and dress from the table. The sound of the zipper sliding into place echoed too loudly in your ears as you tried to dress as quietly as possible.
When you finally slipped out and pulled the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, exhaling sharply. Relief barely lasted a second before you froze again.
Someone was sitting in the living room.
Heeseung was perched on the couch, phone in hand, his tall frame hunched slightly forward. The glow of the screen lit his sharp features, but the second the door clicked shut, his head snapped up. His eyes widened as if he hadn't expected you to actually walk out. In a blur, he was standing, pocketing his phone.
"Hey," his voice came out softer than you remembered.
Your whole body stiffened, eyes wide, your pulse hammering in your throat. The room was quiet but the weight of his presence filled it, and you could feel your heart fluttering in panic—or maybe dangerously close to longing.
"It's just five-thirty," he said, glancing briefly at the window where the faintest gray of dawn was creeping in. "We finished at four. Are you... already leaving?"
Your throat was dry. Fuck. He was talking to you. Just standing there, bare-faced and raw from the night before, his voice carrying none of the arrogance it once did. You wanted to respond, but your mouth betrayed you, stuck in silence. You could only stare at him, your gaze trembling before you forced it away, too shy, too ashamed, too overwhelmed.
Heeseung shifted his weight, his Adam's apple bobbing as though he was working up the nerve. Then, in a tone that was almost uncertain, he asked, "Were we too rough?"
You blinked up at him, startled.
"I..." you started, but the words stuck.
His jaw tightened, eyes flickering before he let out a low sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that didn't fit the man who had held you down hours earlier. His voice dropped lower, rough with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slap you like that. I just... I got carried away."
The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes searched yours like he needed you to believe him, made your chest ache. You didn't trust yourself to speak, your throat felt raw, so you simply nodded, awkward and small, hoping it was enough.
"I—I... uh... shit." Heeseung's voice faltered.
He was fumbling, caught off guard by the weight of his own thoughts. For the first time, he seemed unsure.
Heeseung had always respected the girls they brought into this kind of mess, but responsibility was something he usually left to Jay, who carried gentleness. Yet with you, the urge was different. It was tugging at him in a way he couldn't ignore, and it unsettled him more than he'd ever admit.
His tongue darted over his lips, his brows knitting together as he shifted closer, still cautious of your fragile state. "Do you... want to leave? I—uh—I can get my car, or call someone, or—wait." He cut himself off, unsure what offer would make sense, what you even needed from him right now.
You shook your head quickly, your hands clinging to your heels. Your voice came out almost too small to hear, but you forced the words past your lips. "T-thank you. I-I can manage myself. Th-thank you... so much."
It was rushed, shaky, like you needed to get it out before your voice betrayed the truth of how fragile you felt. Without waiting for his response, you turned away, your bare feet carrying you in tiny, stumbling steps toward the door. Each step hurt, your body reminding you of everything from last night, but you pressed forward anyway, desperate to escape the heaviness in the room.
"Wait—what's your—" Heeseung started, his hand twitching forward as if he could reach you. But the words fell flat, caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before finishing. His lips pressed together in frustration, a quiet curse slipping under his breath. His eyes followed the curve of your back, the fragile sway of your shoulders, the sound of your unsteady footsteps echoing.
"...number."
The word left him softer than a whisper, too late, almost swallowed by the empty space you left behind.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door you'd just disappeared through, torn between running after you and letting you go. His jaw clenched, his hand raking through his hair as he sank back down onto the couch.
He couldn't shake the image of you—the way your eyes had rolled back in bliss, the way you had laughed in the middle of it all, the way you looked at him now as if you wanted to disappear.
And Heeseung felt a kind of defeat that left his chest heavy. First, he was pissed that Jay, of all people, had managed to pull your attention more than once that night. Second, he hadn't even gotten the chance to really enjoy you the way he wanted, not fully, not the way that would have been enough. And third—worst of all—he didn't even know your full name, or what department you were in, or anything beyond that single night where you'd let yourself unravel in his arms and under his hands.
"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face, frustrated at the gnawing ache in his chest. You were too pretty, too delicate, too intoxicating, and it infuriated him that Sunghoon and Jake had gotten their way with you first, splitting you open before he ever had the chance to claim you for himself. The thought of them having your "first" and sharing you so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted you whole, wanted you alone, wanted more than the scraps of a night shared with three others.
Heeseung realized this wasn't just another nameless, faceless memory to throw away. He didn't want this to be the last time. He wanted more of you—your laugh, your trembling voice, your warmth pressed against him. The only thing he had left was the trace of your scent, still lingering faintly on his skin and in the air, that floral sweetness that he couldn't shake no matter how many showers he took. It drove him mad.
"Hey, I tried your perfume and it doesn't smell nearly as nice on me as it does on you."
Your classmate pouted, watching you rub lotion into your arms after swim class. Her tone was playful, but her eyes lingered longer than usual, narrowing slightly at the fading bruises that scattered along your thighs.
"—Wait, are you okay? What's with all these marks?" she asked, her voice shifting, curious but edged with concern as her gaze dropped to your legs, then caught on your wrist where faint discoloration still traced your skin.
You forced a small smile, your hands moving carefully as though the weight of her stare could dig deeper into your body. "Anemia," you said lightly. "You know how it gets sometimes."
She frowned, unconvinced, but didn't press further. You focused on squeezing another bit of lotion into your palm, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. The bottle was nearly empty, and you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should buy another or try something different.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks since your body had been pushed to its limit, since you had let yourself fall apart in the arms, mouths, and cocks of four men who you never should have gotten tangled with.
As much as it thrilled you to remember, you knew it wasn't something you could ever share. Not with your classmates, not with anyone. This was yours alone.
And so, you smiled at your friend, pretending everything was normal, while inside, you cherished the memory of a night you swore you'd never tell.
You tied your damp hair back, the strands clinging to your neck as you tugged on a sweatshirt and shorts. A light mist of perfume lingered as you sprayed your wrists, your throat, the curve of your shoulder, even down your spine as though you could drown yourself in that sweet comfort.
"God, you smell so good again," your friend whined, fanning herself dramatically. You only chuckled and brushed her off, slipping your bag onto your shoulder before following the group.
The conversation turned quickly, as it always seemed to these days.
"How come those fuckboys keep throwing parties and we never hear a word after? It's like magic," one girl scoffed, and the others broke into agreement, voices overlapping with laughter.
"Right? I swear they must be fucking someone every time," another chimed in, clapping her hands for emphasis. "No way they're just drinking. But no one ever talks. Like—ever."
Their voices carried ahead of you while you trailed behind, smiling faintly, shaking your head as if their words were just another baseless rumor. Inside, though, your chest tightened. If only they knew. If only they could imagine half of what had happened that night. But you weren't about to let them. You had no intention of ever telling a single soul.
That night was a secret carved into you, and the four of them had reputations built on silence—no communication, no strings, no trace.
You sighed, crouching down to fix your shoelace, the chatter of your classmates fading as they moved further down the hall. One of them called your name over their shoulder, urging you to hurry, but before you could respond, the sound of measured steps came closer. A shadow cut across the floor in front of you.
You froze.
Slowly, your gaze lifted from the shoes planted right in front of you. And your heart stopped.
"Found you," a low voice drawled, threaded with satisfaction, almost a taunt.
Gasps erupted behind you, your classmates halting in their tracks.
Your eyes widened. Heeseung was really there, standing over you in broad daylight, surrounded by people, breaking his own rules without hesitation. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you. The tall, untouchable Heeseung—the one who ignored every girl who chased after him, who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with messy attention—was kneeling, his long fingers brushing over your loose shoelace.
"I had a hard time finding you," he muttered, not loud enough for anyone but you to hear. His tone was casual, but his jaw was tight, his movements sharp with frustration as he tied the knot in one clean motion. "It really pissed me off, you know?"
Your throat went dry. Heat crawled up your neck, spreading across your face until you felt the tips of your ears burn.
Why? Why was he here? Why was he talking to you? This wasn't the Heeseung everyone else knew. He never lowered himself like this—not in front of everyone, not where people could see. He shut girls down without a glance, his cold indifference the very thing that made them chase harder. Yet here he was, focused on you with an intensity that made your stomach twist.
Around you, your classmates whispered furiously, unable to hide their shock. Some covered their mouths, others exchanged wide-eyed looks, but no one dared step closer.
"Can we talk?" His voice was steady, but softer than you expected, almost coaxing.
When you finally dared to look at him, his eyes caught yours. They weren't the eyes of the cold, untouchable Heeseung everyone claimed to know. No, they were gentle, wide, almost disarming, like he was looking through you and not just at you. He smiled—small, sweet, almost shy—and your lips trembled against the sudden wave of nerves.
"H-Huh?" Your voice cracked embarrassingly.
Before you could gather yourself, he reached forward and plucked your bag from your shoulder. His hand found yours in the same motion, his long fingers curling around your palm. The contact made your knees weaken, a sharp rush of heat flooding your chest.
Heeseung was holding your hand. Heeseung, who never even let girls close enough to breathe the same air without brushing them off, was lacing his fingers with yours in front of everyone!
"Let's get out of here first, hmm?" His tone carried a teasing lilt, but his grip on your hand was firm.
You could hardly process as he tugged you gently in the opposite direction, away from your frozen classmates whose whispers grew louder. Each step with him felt surreal, like walking straight into a dream you weren't ready for but couldn't pull away from.
Then, as if to seal the knot of heaviness swirling in your chest, his head tilted close, his breath warm against your ear.
ꕥ NICE N' FULL ⸝⸝⸝ six different scenarios in which the enhypen members breed the fuck out of you !
⚠︎ smut. mdni. breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, p in v, dirty talking, pet names, more warnings listed for each member. total wc 4k. ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list
✷ NIA — not exactly what bae @vampsol asked for bc i went a little au-ish here :p but it's me so what did we expect. shoutout to my goat @karinasbaby for sharing a braincell with me and helping me w the ideas <3
ꕥ LEE HEESEUNG
arranged marriage, it's okay they're starting to be obsessed with each other, slight somno, oral (f. rec), cum eating
If you were to tell anyone Heeseung didn't as much as look you in the eyes about two months ago, they'd never believe you. Not if the way he's clinging to your lower half before he even opens his eyes fully is anything to go by. Still naked in bed, the wet sheets clinging to your bodies the only thing shielding you from the cool dawn air.
Marriages of convenience are rarely easy, especially for spirits as free as Heeseung, and he's made it clear to you how much he'd rather have married anyone else instead. They also come with burdensome expectations of heirs way too soon for his liking. Yet, something about your devotion to him in your most intimate moments despite your general indifference and coldness towards each other, brought the cold and hard as steel man down to his knees, a puddle of mush at your feet ready to fulfill any request.
"Hee," you mutter softly against your pillow as he parts your legs to make space for himself, and Heeseung's heart soars. A month ago it would've been 'Heeseung' or 'husband' with that venomous tone you seemed to only reserve for him, like his spot in your life was only a joke. It's different now, you're tender with him.
"Shh, pretty. Just lay here for me like this." It's still early, and Heeseung can barely see, but he wants the first thing he looks at in the morning to be your pretty hole, raw and sore from all the previous fucking, still gush his seed out. He parts your folds slowly, careful not to hurt you, and watches as his milky cum greets him, pouring out of you. It's a sight for sore eyes, and one he knows he will never get enough of. Even when he'll manage to put a child in you, he knows this is something he won't be able to let go of.
You shift, now more aware of your surroundings, but Hee is quick to keep you still. Your hand underneath your stomach faintly tingles because of its weird position, but it all fades in the background when Heeseung grabs your ass and spreads it, moving lap at where his cum is gushing out of you.
You're still sensitive from the night you spent together, but his touch is feather light and you don't really know if you want him to stop or you want more. He moans at the mixture of your tastes, pushing his tongue deeper inside your cunt like he's trying to clean you, switching so soft kisses on your lips once he's satisfied.
He makes his way up to your face, littering your bottom and spine in kisses and playful nibbles, relishing in the little sounds you make in response. Your front is still pressed to the mattress, and not seeing him almost makes you believe this is not the Heeseung that was shooting you sharp glares throughout the entire wedding ceremony. His touch is warmer, so much more delicate than the way he held your end that first night. His kisses are slow and deliberate, not empty and forced anymore. It's like soul has find its way back into Heeseung's being, after months of being a cold slate. The change started out slowly, but now you're here, and you genuinely feel like you could really love this man. Maybe a part of you does already.
His voice is the same, but the tone makes him sound like a whole different person, the forever present irritation is gone, only a playful tilt to it left as he finally reaches your ear to whisper in it. "Slipped out while sleeping, all of our hard work gone… such a pity." Heeseung aligns his cock to your weeping cunt, rubbing his head a few times along your folds, then carefully pushes in. "We have to do it all over again."
He's gentle, showering you in soft praises, and his thrusts are even slower. You've never known anything other than fucking, but you think this is what lovemaking feels like.
"So good, baby. You'll be such a good mom, you've been so patient with me even when i didn't deserve it. You'll be wonderful," he whispers in your ear, raising goosebumps all over your skin at just how sweet he sounds. "You are wonderful. You're perfect."
What better way to spend your honeymoon trip if not by getting filled over and over again by your dear, newlywed husband?
You can't think of any, but maybe that's also because you can't really think about anything that's not the delicious drag of Jay's cock against your walls. So deep inside you, pushing more even when his balls are already flush to your skin. Like he can't get enough, like he could break any barrier and mold into you as one if he really put his mind to it. He needs more, you both do.
But one thing's for sure, he's giving you his all.
"So fucking good, my wife has the best pussy. So perfect for me," he pants hotly in your ear, his large warm hand cupping your breast and separating it from the frigid glass your front is pushed against. The view from your suite is breathtaking, emphasized by the huge transparent wall, right beside the queen sized bed. At the moment though, you're not really focused on it. Nor is Jay, too busy gawking at your beautiful figure caged between his chest and the glass. He could stare at you forever. "I'm gonna stuff you full, baby. Gonna fuck you so good all trip, there's no way you won't be pregnant by the end."
You believe it, because all he's done ever since you undid your luggage in the middle of the room once you arrived to your destination is pump you full of his cum, all day, all night. And then all over again. Only stopping to get you food. You aren't safe from him when showering, even worse when taking a bath, definitely not when you're lounging around the natural pool close to your suite. It's not his fault you look so good in the bathing suits you packed and the ones he picked out for you. Jay has always had good stamina, but ever since the wedding he's been downright feral.
His thrusts are slow, but intense, like he's trying to drag the pleasure out as long as he can, savoring the way his tip nudges just the right stop that has you mewling in his hold every single time. His breath is warm against your neck and so are his grunts of pleasure, your favorite sound in the whole world.
Jay twists your sensitive and sore nipples between his fingers, only smiling into your neck when you reward him with the cutest mewls he's ever heard in his life. "Fuck, baby. I'm the luckiest man alive. I can't believe you're mine forever."
"You too," you whine in response.
"Yes baby, I'm all yours, forever. I love you much."
"Love you too," you sob, throwing your head back into his shoulder, completely overtaken by the pleasure he's giving you, allowing him more access to lick and suck on your sensitive neck.
"I know, baby. I know. You're doing so good, just a little more. My sweet girl, you'll be such a good mom. Can't wait to make you one. We'll have so many, so many cute kids running around. Doesn't that sound like a dream? Fuck, I can't wait."
The hand still playing with your tits slides down to your stomach, pushing down on it until Jay can feel his own cock thrusting into you. "Right here, you're gonna carry our baby here." He keeps fucking into you slowly, deliberately, so different from the speed of the circles he draws on your clit with the fingers that were soothing your hip just moments before. He drags out his own pleasure, but needs to give you so much more. "Come on my cock baby, milk it dry. We have so much more work to do."
ꕥ SIM JAEYUN
fwb!jake but he has feelings, he's down bad and a little subby in this one, dub-con (for jake), slight blood play (just his lip)
This is a series of mistakes. It's all Jake seems to be doing as of lately.
First of all, he's not even supposed to be in your bed again, the fourth time this week. Not when he finally came to terms with the fact that he has developed a raging crush on you and cannot keep his feelings at bay any longer, even when you two agreed this whole arrangement will only be sex and nothing else.
But he can't help it when you're so fucking addicting. You not liking him back is gonna break his heart, but at least he gets to fuck you, at least he gets a little piece of you, even if it's not exactly the one he wants.
Secondly, he should've refused to fuck you raw for the first time the moment you asked, even if the thought alone had his eyes crossing and rolling all the way to the back of his skull. But he's a weak man, for you especially, and he simply couldn't resist the temptation, not when you looked up at him with your big glossy eyes and with such a cute pout on your lip.
So here he is now, fucking you raw like his life is on the line, trying his hardest not to spill inside you too soon because if he does he might just die from embarrassment.
All he does, all he's ever done, is with the purpose of impressing you. It's like you have him chained up to this invisible leash he didn't even notice you put on him, and now it's too late to take it off. Jake means it when he says he would do anything for you.
His thrusts are shallow and quick, he's fucking you mostly with his tip, and you don't think you've ever seen him so worked up. It makes you feel things you didn't even know you needed. You like the feeling.
"You're so cute like this, Jakey," you giggle into the messy open mouthed kiss he's drowning you in, your fingers ghosting on the muscles of his back while his tremble on your waist. "Fuck me deeper, I want to feel all of you."
Jake's hips still for a second as he bites down on his bottom lip so hard he draws blood, but you don't mind at all. You even lick it clean, sighing dreamily at the iron taste overtaking your senses. Jake's eyes screw shut, and he's so close to cumming his eyes start to water. This is simultaneously the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him, and thinking that this might very well be the last time only makes his eyes wetter.
"I—fuck. I can't. I'll cum too soon."
"That's okay, we can go again," you say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and a little piece of Jake's heart breaks. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.
You sense his hesitation and wrap your legs around his hips, pushing them closer to your pelvis so his length fully sheaths inside you. It's so warm and big and throbbing to release his cum in you and there's not a single thing you want more. "Fill me up, Jakey. Claim me," you whisper in his ear. "Why don't you show everyone I belong to you?"
Jake resumes his movements, tentatively at first but steadily building a pace that feels good, his thrusts are deeper now, needier, and even if he were to try to pull out, you'd keep him right there. "I want to. I want you fully, fuck— please be mine," he sobs into the valley of your breasts, voice muffled as he licks and nips at your skin.
"Go on. Make me yours then. Show me how bad you want me."
And he does because fuck, he's weak. He's so fucking weak for you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
ꕥ PARK SUNGHOON
coworker!hoon, secret relationship, semi-public, degradation, jealousy, mentions of marriage
Something about the way Sunghoon's thick eyebrows were furrowed from the second he walked into the job that morning, or how his jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth whenever any of your colleagues as much as opened their mouths to say something, should've been your cue to behave for the day.
Unfortunately for everyone involved, he happens to look so damn hot when he's pissed.
And he's so filthy when he's jealous, pushing his buttons becomes your favorite challenge in times like these.
"Eyeing Jake all day like you want to bring him to the back and fuck him, are you not ashamed?" he spits, voice an octave lower than usual and barely slipping through his gritted teeth. "Bending over in front of him, touching him when you know I can see you. Do I have to mark you up for you to fucking behave for once?"
The roughness in his voice makes your eyes wet but your panties wetter, he doesn't bother to undress you, you don't have time for it anyway. You're just a few steps away from the lounge bar where some of your coworkers are surely taking a break right now. Anyone could walk in at any time, and maybe Sunghoon wishes for that to happen.
Instead Sunghoon just flips your skirt up and pushes your panties to the side, immediately rubbing his angry red tip on your folds to coat them in your own juices. He feels so incredibly hard against you, and that's how you know he must've been hiding a boner this entire time. As much as he loves to pretend he doesn't, it's little cues like this that let you know just how much he enjoys putting you back in your place. "Of course you're soaked." He barks a laugh devoid of humor but full of disdain.
"If it's my attention you want," he whispers more softly, and the switch in his attitude sends shivers down your spine, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Sunghoon, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'll give it to you. I'll give you so much of it you won't ever think about disrespecting me again."
He pushes his girth into you fully in one thrust, his rough fingers finding your clit within seconds, not even giving you enough time to savor the pleasurable sting that comes from his cock stretching you out so nicely. He grabs your jaw in his other hand, his smirk not turned into a snarl. "You'll cum, and you'll cum hard enough to milk all of me. You'll keep cumming around my cock no matter how much it hurts, until I fill you up. Is that clear?"
You would nod if you could, but his grip is too strong, so you do what you can: just stand there as he subjects you to anything his heart desires. He doesn't move his hips, doesn't give you that satisfaction, only rubs his fingers on your tiny bundle of nerves so hard it almost hurts, but you'd never ask him to stop it.
"You'll take all of my cum, until your belly is swollen by how much of it I fuck into you. I'll put a baby in you so no one else will ever mistake you for anything other than mine."
You clench around him, time and time again, just like he wants you to. Sunghoon has you under a spell, and the more he talks, the more he flicks your clit, the less you think about what's rational and what's not. You only know what he tells you, and to you that's the only truth you need to hear.
"I'll put a ring on your finger, make you my pretty little wife. Maybe even make you stop coming in, I'll take care of everything. Yeah, keep milking me like that, baby. Let me make you a mommy."
ꕥ KIM SUNOO
ewb, hate sex, degradation, marking, one singular 'slut', condom comes off!
"You're—mhh, such a bad fuck," you say over your shoulder, wanting to see Sunoo's reaction despite the uncomfortable position. You're lying through your teeth, of course. You know how much saying things like this riles Sunoo up, and the only times you feel anything akin to like towards him is when he's rough with you. It's why despite the mutual hatred that makes up the entirety of your relationship, you two keep finding yourselves skin to skin, tangled in bed sheets. You always thought you needed someone to fuck you like they hate you, turns out, what you really craved was someone to fuck you because they hate you. And the right man for the job is right behind you, thrusting into you like he wants to hurt you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips like it's their right to do so.
"Then why are you here, wetting my cock like no one's fucked you in years?" His moves are relentless, and you have to try your best to not collapse on the bed because of the sheer force behind every stroke. Your legs are shaking, but you hang on a thread just to not give him that satisfaction. Instead, you push him further.
"That guy from—mph, yesterday. He'd—" you gasp as he gives you a harsher thrust, so deep you're sure you can feel it in your guts. The angle he starts fucking you in knocks the air out of your lungs in the best way possible, and even if you're trembling under Sunoo's weight and clawing at the cotton fabric next to you, you refuse to back down. "He'd do a better job."
You don't need to see his face, you hear the smirk in his voice, and it's the kind that sends a shiver down your spine each time. "But you're here." Another sharp thrust. "You don't even remember his name."
"At least he las– lasted while fucking me raw." You feel him halt all movement, and you know this is enough to get what you want from him, but you just can't help it. "You could never."
"You're such a little fox, aren't you?" He speaks calmly, but you can feel the storm brewing under the facade. He drags his fingertips across your spine, barely touching you at all. It's embarrassing how that's enough to have you bend under his touch. He reaches the plush of your ass, grabbing a fistful of it so forcefully you can feel his nails break the skin. He doesn't stop when you complain, doesn't care for your pained moans. "You think you're so smart, but you're just a little slut. You want me to fuck you raw?"
You try to shake your head to deny it, but he knows better.
"Yes you do. Say it." His grip on your ass only gets stronger, and tears line your bottom lashes.
"I do," you whine, finally. "Please."
"Good." Sunoo releases the death grip on your skin, soothing over the red spot with his thumb lightly, like it's not him performing the action. The Sunoo you know has no time for care. "Then take the condom off of me."
Your head snaps back at his words, but he makes no sign of moving. So you do what he says, this once. You reach for this length, then carefully slide the rubber off of it. And right when he thinks you're finally behaving, you squeeze his cock so hard his hips stutter forward and you actually manage to steal a surprised yelp out of him.
Sunoo's reaction is immediate. He grabs both of your hands, uncaring for the way your elbows are uncomfortably bent, and brings your wrists together behind your back. He slides into you again in one swift motion, not giving you even a second to savor the feeling of his bare cock pushing into your heat for the first time. All of your nerves feel on fire, and as he sets a breakneck pace while keeping you down and unable to move.
"Do I have to fuck a baby into you for you to finally behave?" He gasps when you squeeze him in response to his words. "You'd like that yeah? You'd love for the man you hate to get you pregnant? Is that gonna make you shut the fuck up for once? Oh, I bet it will."
ꕥ YANG JUNGWON
fiancé!won, they're obsessed your honor, love on the floor
"You can't wait to get me pregnant, but what will you do when you won't be able to suck on my tits for months, mhh?" You giggle on Jungwon's lap, right in the middle of the empty room.
The new house still smells like new houses usually do, dry and woody, like the windows are never open. There's no furniture yet, but it doesn't stop your heart from pounding in your chest as you look around. Your home.
Jungwon's eyes never leave you though, and when you look back at him and find him smiling at you like you hold the world in your palm, you know you would be happy with every house, no matter the size or appearance, as long as he's the one you share it with.
"What makes you think that's gonna stop me?" Your fiance replies, shaking his head to move the bangs out of his eyes. "I'll even get something more out if it."
"Won!" you exclaim, hiding your face in your hands. Your heart melts a bit when you hear that familiar boyish giggle leave him, light as air, and for once in your life you feel like you've found the right spot in the world.
The warmth you feel spreads further as Jungwon starts caressing your bare thighs, until he's gripping your ass, using it as leverage to push you on his crotch.
You gasp at the feeling, and your hands find their rightful place on his broad shoulders so you can keep yourself steady as he starts to roll your hips against his.
"Won… we shouldn't—"
He shuts you up with a soft peck, resting his forehead against yours. "Why not? It's our place. We worked so hard for it, we should celebrate."
You bite your bottom lip as you think about it, but Won doesn't waste a minute and flips both of you over so you're caged between the floor and his chest. He nibbles on your ear, knowing better than anyone else how weak it makes you when he does that. "I'll make you feel so good, doll." It's like he's put a spell on you because you nod before he even manages to finish his sentence. "Just lay back and let me do all the work."
Your clothes are soon discarded everywhere around you, and your legs are wrapped around his hips as he fucks into you like he never has before. You're both a sweaty mess, panting in each other's mouths, exchanging spit any chance you get.
"Your pussy was made for me, doll. You're sucking me in so well." Jungwon moans against your lips, and you watch enamored as his eyes shut close and his eyebrows furrow, a droplet of sweat running down from his hairline. "Can't wait to take you on every surface of this house. Fuck— just leave it to me, baby. I have so many surprises for you."
"I'm so close, please," you whine, sliding a hand down his back to push his hips into you further. It makes Jungwon's pace faster, more desperate to give you exactly what you need.
"Let go, baby. Come all over my dick— yeah, just like that. You're taking me so fucking well. Such a perfect doll for me." His praise goes straight to your cunt, and you squeeze him impossibly hard as wakes of pleasure rack through your body.
"My perfect angel, you're gonna look so good swollen with our baby. Am gonna give you all of my cum, just a little more. We'll have so many kids running around the house we built. Our home forever," Jungwon babbles in your ear, and you're so fucked out you can even barely make out what he's telling you. You just know you need him to fuck you full, over and over.
His hips never stutter, despite how drenched and slippery everything is by now, a puddle of wetness pooling underneath you on the hard floor, getting bigger and bigger the more Jungwon fucks you, and you suspect the floor won't be the only surface you'll wet that day.
bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.)
“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
“And if she won’t listen…”
“I’ll make her.”
You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.
Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.
No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.
You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.
You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.
It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.
Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.
You’d never even come close.
You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.
You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.
You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.
You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.
But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.
You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.
Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.
It made you feel fucking insane.
So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.
You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.
You didn’t dare.
-
Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.
Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.
You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.
It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.
And then there was Heeseung.
Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.
When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.
You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.
By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.
You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.
Your focus was always Evie.
She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.
She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.
You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.
You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.
-
The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.
Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.
Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.
You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.
Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.
The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.
You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.
Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.
It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.
You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.
For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.
A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.
Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.
Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.
There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.
Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.
“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."
“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.
Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.
Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.
Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.
“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”
No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.
You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.
Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.
You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.
But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.
-
You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.
You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.
But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.
You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.
And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.
The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.
You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.
The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.
You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.
No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.
The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.
It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.
Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.
The wetness should’ve been a good sign.
But you already knew how this would go.
You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.
Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.
There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.
You tried harder.
Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.
That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.
But it never came.
Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.
Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.
You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.
Not even fucking close.
Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.
Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.
This wasn’t working.
You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.
The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.
You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.
The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.
You knocked.
Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.
Nothing.
The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.
Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.
Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.
He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.
His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.
He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.
“You good?”
The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.
Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.
“…What?”
“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”
He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.
“No. I don’t.”
You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.
“Fuck.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”
“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”
That made him pause.
He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”
Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.
“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”
He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.
“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”
Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.
You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”
Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.
But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.
And he still hadn’t said a word.
Your next breath shook as it left you.
“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”
That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.
He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”
You froze.
His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
He stepped back.
Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.
He held your gaze.
“Come in. Close the door behind you.”
The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.
You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.
Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.
Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.
“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”
You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.
His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.
You fidget.
Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”
Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.
He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”
The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.
You blink. “Like… where I touch?”
“Yeah.”
You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”
“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”
Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”
You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.
He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.
“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”
You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.
He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.
“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”
“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.
Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”
Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”
Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.
You don’t move right away.
He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”
Your breath hitches.
Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.
You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.
But still—nothing clicks.
Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”
“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.
“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”
The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.
“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”
Your hand stills.
He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”
You hesitate, then obey.
The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.
“Feel that?”
You nod. Barely.
“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”
You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.
Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.
He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.
He lets the moment hang.
Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”
“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.
His gaze is heavy. Steady.
“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”
The room feels hotter now.
Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.
You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.
He hasn’t blinked once.
Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.
The only thing that’s changed is his posture.
His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.
You’re doing this to him.
But not enough.
Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.
You’re trying. God, you’re trying.
Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.
It’s good. So good.
But it’s not enough.
You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”
“I’m not,” you whisper.
“You are. I can see it.”
You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”
You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.
“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”
Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.
“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”
You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”
That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.
“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”
“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”
He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”
You nod.
“No,” he says. “Say it.”
Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”
Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”
Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.
“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”
Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”
You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.
“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”
You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.
“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”
You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.
“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”
You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.
Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.
You’re right there.
You’re going to break.
He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.
You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.
It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.
Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.
The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.
Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.
You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.
His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.
He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.
He’s so hard.
His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.
“Look at that messy little cunt.”
Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.
Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.
“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”
“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”
“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”
Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.
Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.
“You wanna cum, baby?”
You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.
“Use your words.”
Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”
“Need what?” he pushes.
“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”
“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”
You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.
And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.
“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”
You snap.
Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.
It doesn’t hit you right away.
At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.
It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.
You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.
Heeseung is still there.
You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.
And then it fades.
That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.
What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.
Reality slams back into you hard.
You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.
Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.
You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”
Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.
Heeseung hasn’t moved.
Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.
You can’t meet his eyes.
He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.
“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”
“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.
Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.
“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”
“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.
“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”
You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.
He doesn’t even seem fazed.
That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.
You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”
You shoot him a look.
Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”
You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.
You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.
Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”
You blink.
“…There’s a second lesson?”
He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”
Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.
-
Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.
Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.
You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.
It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping.
Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you.
That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.
You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.
You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it.
Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”
You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean.
Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.
You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.
No. I’ll call you.
Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.
You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.
His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.
Low. Thick. Wrecked.
“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”
The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.
“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”
Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”
“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”
Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”
“And?”
Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.
“…Didn’t work.”
“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”
You nearly choke.
“Take the blanket off.”
You do.
“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”
You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.
“Fuck. You’re already wet.”
You don’t answer.
“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”
You whimper. “I’m wet.”
“Where?”
Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”
“Let me hear it.”
You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.
Squish. Slick. Wet.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”
“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”
“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”
You nod like he can see you.
“You touching your clit yet?”
“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”
“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”
You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”
You do.
And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.
“You sound like you’re crying.”
“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”
“Then shut her up.”
Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.
“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”
Your thighs start to shake.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”
“She wants to cum. So let her.”
You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.
“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”
You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.
-
You don’t get a break.
Heeseung doesn’t let you.
After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.
Morning. She hungry?
Your pussy clenches on reflex.
You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.
Yes.
His reply is instant.
Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.
That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.
You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.
You send the photo.
Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.
He doesn’t reply until hours later.
Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.
That’s how it starts.
Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.
Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.
When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.
He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.
“Are you wearing panties right now?”
“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”
“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”
You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.
Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.
On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.
You cum like a trained animal.
By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.
He doesn’t let you get comfortable.
I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?
-
You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.
There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.
Heeseung.
Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.
You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.
Don’t open this here. I’m serious.
You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.
It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.
And it destroys you.
I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her.
I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching.
I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her.
No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.
You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.
You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.
You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.
You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.
You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.
You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.
You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.
You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.
When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.
You snap a photo.
Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.
You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.
That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.
-
You don’t even knock.
You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:
You better show up dripping.
And you are.
The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.
He opens it like he already knew you were there.
Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.
He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.
Just opens the door wider and lets you in.
You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.
He closes the door behind you. And waits.
You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”
He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”
You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”
Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.
“You leaking?”
Your breath catches. “Yes.”
“Prove it.”
Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.
Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.
He doesn’t touch you.
“Show me,” he says, voice low.
Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.
You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.
You keep your eyes on him the whole time.
And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.
Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.
Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.
“She tastes trained.”
You nod.
“She beg yet?”
You exhale. “She never shut up.”
He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”
Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.
“You want her filled?”
You nod again. “Please.”
“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”
“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”
“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”
You scramble onto the bed.
Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.
You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.
But he doesn’t touch you first.
He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.
And sniffs.
Deep.
He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”
Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.
“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”
“Heeseung—” You whimper.
“Shut up.”
He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.
You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.
He just stares.
“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”
“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.
“I can see that.”
His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.
He doesn’t lick you.
Not yet.
He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.
“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”
You sob.
And then he spits.
Right on your pussy.
Hot. Heavy. Messy.
It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.
Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.
“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”
And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.
Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.
But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.
He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.
“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”
You cry out, thighs clenching.
But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.
“Open.”
You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.
He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.
“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”
You do.
Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.
“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”
You try to cum. You try.
But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.
“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”
You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.
Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.
“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”
He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.
Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.
He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.
“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”
You do. Of course you do.
Because you’d do anything he says.
And he knows it.
He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.
You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.
“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”
“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”
He doesn’t give you time to finish.
He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.
The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.
“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”
You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.
She’s full.
Finally fucking full.
Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”
“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”
He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.
You scream.
“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”
You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.
He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.
Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.
So you lift your head—try to kiss him.
You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.
He pulls back.
His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.
“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”
Your breath shatters.
“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”
Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.
“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”
Tears spill over your cheeks.
And you cum. Just like that.
From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.
Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.
He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”
You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.
“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”
He leans down, mouth right by your ear.
“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”
You’re already limp when he flips you.
Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.
You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.
“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.
You nod into the pillow.
“Say it.”
“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”
You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.
He doesn’t give you the rest.
You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.
“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”
He presses forward.
His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.
He starts fucking you again like he owns you.
The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.
“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”
“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”
“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”
“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”
He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.
“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”
You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.
It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.
You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.
He fucks you through it—harder.
“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”
And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.
He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.
You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.
He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.
Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.
You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.
“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”
You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.
“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”
-
You wake up to the burn in your thighs.
The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.
Still there. Still inside you.
You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.
A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.
His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.
But something else creeps in too.
You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”
You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.
“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”
It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.
His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.
You almost regret asking.
Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”
You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.
No hesitation. He kisses you hard.
Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.
His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.
You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.
Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.
His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.
And then you hear it.
“Heeseung?”
It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.
“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”
Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.
Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.
“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.
Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.
“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”
You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.
Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.
You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”
Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.
“Bathroom. Now.”
You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.
His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.
“Yo.”
“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”
Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.
“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”
“She didn’t text me.”
“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”
You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.
“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”
“Will do.”
Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.
“You owe me.”
You punch his chest.
He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."
-
It’s early.
Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.
You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.
You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.
Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.
“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.
You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.
“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”
You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.
“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”
You do. Barely.
You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.
Downstairs?
Evie sings along to the chorus.
-
It’s disgusting.
There’s no other word for it.
You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.
You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.
“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”
Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”
“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”
And then—
“Y/N?”
You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.
You freeze.
Every muscle in your body locks.
Heeseung doesn’t move.
You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.
And then you both look up.
In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
Evie.
Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.
She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.
And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.
Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.
“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”
She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.
“No—no—no—no, no, no—”
She’s panicking.
Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.
“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”
“DON’T.”
The scream hits like a slap.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”
You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.
Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.
“Heejoo—”
“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”
She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.
And then her expression cracks completely.
Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.
“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”
“You’re both fucking insane.”
You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.
“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”
She flinches.
Flinches.
Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.
She looks empty.
“Don’t come near me.”
Her voice is flat now. Robotic.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”
You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.
Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.
“You’re both dead to me.”
-
You don’t remember the walk home.
You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.
Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.
Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.
She meant it. Every word.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”
She meant it.
You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.
They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.
He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.
The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.
It never comes.
But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.
Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.
Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.
You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.
Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.
You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.
-
It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.
You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.
You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.
It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.
Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.
You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.
Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.
Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.
Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.
Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.
“I had to see you.”
The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“You already saw enough.”
He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.
“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”
“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”
“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”
You speak,
“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”
The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.
“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”
For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.
“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”
You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.
“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”
He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”
For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.
“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”
A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.
-
It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row.
Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips.
Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.
The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.
She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel.
Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.
“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.
You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
“Evie—”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”
Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.
She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”
Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”
Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”
Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”
She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”
You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”
She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily.
“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”
Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest.
“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.
-
It doesn’t happen overnight.
There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest.
But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.
It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter.
Just three words: We need to talk.
You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest.
Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay.
That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house.
And then she clarifies: Just you.
You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both.
Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.
“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”
You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.
She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”
Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”
She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”
She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”
Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill.
“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”
Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.”
Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.”
She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”
You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.
She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”
Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."
“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”
A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow.
-
Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.
Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.
Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.
“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”
You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.
“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”
It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.
Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.
“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”
Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.
“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.
You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.
“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”
Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.
Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.
“You… love me?”
You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”
He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.
“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”
You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.
“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”
“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”
Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”
“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”
A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.
Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.
“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”
Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”
Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”
A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.
You open your mouth.
“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”
Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”
Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.
Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.
“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”
You nod quickly.
“Of course.”
Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.
“Anything you need.”
She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.
“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”
You don’t stop her.
Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.
He exhales shakily.
“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”
You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”
His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.
-
Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door.
It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.
So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show.
It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too.
No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.
Heeseung seems as restless as you.
Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate.
You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver.
Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.
So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town.
You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended.
The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking.
You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve.
But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.
And that progress is slow, but present.
She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together.
She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.
Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal.
You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.
But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:
Girls’ night?
She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch.
You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.
Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history.
She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said.
There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.
For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile.
She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.
Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails.
It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief.
For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.
At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.
“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”
You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”
She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”
A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”
She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”
Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”
That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.
You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences.
But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.
When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened.
But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.
“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.
“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”
She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.
As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.
-
The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his.
And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.
When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.
You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.
He clears his throat.
“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”
You turn to look at him. “No.”
There’s a beat.
“Can I?”
You nod.
And that’s it. That’s all it takes.
His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.
You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.
“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”
Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.
You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.
“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”
He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.
“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.
You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.
“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”
He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”
You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.
“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”
And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.
But he’s not done.
He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.
“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”
He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.
“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”
You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.
“Say it,” he demands.
“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”
He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.
No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.
“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”
You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.
Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.
He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”
You don’t stop him. You beg for more.
He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.
“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”
You scream. You scream for him.
You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.
He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.
“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”
You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”
He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.
He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.
You can’t move.
You don’t want to.
You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.
Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.
man fuck your pride, just take it on back, take it on back boy ٠࣪⭑
heeseung x fem!reader
length: 4.1k
warnings: smut (minors dni), fighting, angry sex, miscommunication trope, cussing, very minor physical stuff (pushing and grabbing), fingering, unprotected penetration, smug asf heeseung, bratty y/n
synopsis: overhearing your boyfriend talking about you behind your back is a tough way to start date night. now, you’ve got an attitude. and heeseung isn’t having any of it.
__
You were halfway down the hall, tugging on an earring as you rushed toward Heeseung’s bedroom. He'd been ready for nearly an hour already, and was likely bouncing his foot impatiently, headset perched on his head as he waited for you to finish up.
Date night was non-negotiable in this house, and yet you were always somehow running ten minutes late.
You didn’t mean to linger by the door; your earring just was truly stuck, and you had to pause to focus on getting the clasp on right. That’s when the sound caught you—his low voice spilling out from behind the crack of the doorframe.
“Nah, it’s honestly hard,” He was saying. Sunghoon was on the other end of whatever 2v2 they were playing, though you couldn’t hear his voice.
He must have laughed, though, because Heeseung went on with a groan. “I’m serious. She takes forever to get ready. It’s like this every time. And she’s so damn stubborn. If I say anything at all she's pissed off.”
Your hand faltered at the door.
There was a pause—Sunghoon probably making some stupid joke—and another chuckle. Heeseung’s tone was light, warm, even, but you’d stopped listening for tone. Your face felt hot, his words going straight to your heart.
“You would not,” Heeseung chided, cursing under his breath at the game. “It drives me crazy. You wouldn’t last a minute.”
You spun on your heel, red in the face, and disappeared back down the hall. All your excitement, all your confidence, completely shot. Is that really how he talked about you behind your back? Like you were some inconvenience he had to put up with?
It all felt unbelievably stupid now. The little black dress you’d put on just for him, the white socks that cut off at your knees—the ones he once said drove him nuts. Even the heels that dangled in your other hand.
Stupid, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so embarrassed.
Behind you, in the room you’d disappeared from, Heeseung leaned back in his chair, exhaling in satisfaction at another victory.
Sunghoon’s voice came through Heeseung’s headphones. “I’m just saying, you’re not all that just because you’ve got a girlfriend and we don’t. Although, that running late thing—I guess that would piss me off pretty bad.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Heeseung chided, knitting his hands behind his head. “And that’s why she’s mine. None of you losers could make her happy.” He puffed his chest out. “Takes a man to handle all of that.”
“You’re so fucking weird dude. Go take her to dinner. If she’s even ready, that is.”
“Hey. Don’t talk shit about my girl, bro,” Heeseung said, logging out of his game.
“What? But you just—”
“Later,” He called, grinning as he pulled his headphones from his head.
He found you on the couch, finishing up with your heels. They were the ones he’d bought you on a trip you took last year. Cute, black, just enough of a heel to make your legs look irresistibly long, but short enough that he retained his height over you.
"Hey, baby," He said, reaching a hand out to help you up, "You ready to go?"
You glanced at him before standing up, ignoring the gesture. "Yeah," You answered, heading towards the door without another word.
Heeseung’s brow quirked as he watched you pass by.
He could smell a bad mood from a mile away, but what about? He had no idea. He followed you out to the car quietly, noting the way you avoided his gaze and slammed your door.
The drive into the city was tense. Heeseung couldn’t tell what had gone wrong in the time between you asking if he liked the dress you’d picked out—to which he’d answered indisputably and enthusiastically yes—and when you’d left his house together, but something had definitely changed.
Maybe you were angry that he’d been on a game with Sunghoon while waiting for you. Or perhaps he hadn’t made it quite clear enough how good he thought you looked. He glanced at you in the passenger seat, dolled up to perfection, the prettiest person he’d ever seen in his life, and couldn’t help but notice the way your brows were creased in the middle, or the slight downturn to your lips.
And you? You were fuming. Stewing silently like a storm that just wouldn’t break.
You felt off. From the moment you heard Heeseung's comments, everything about the night felt wrong. Your dress felt too tight in some places, too loose in others. Your makeup too much. Your hair too simple.
His words made you feel insecure, which was the worst thing of all. That your boyfriend, the guy who was supposed to make you feel like the most beautiful person in the world, had you second-guessing yourself.
A man, making you doubt yourself. Nothing pissed you off more than that.
Maybe you did take too long to get ready. Maybe you really were too stubborn, and exhausting to be around. But who was Heeseung to complain? He could spend hours at the mall, dragging you around a single department store until your feet ached. And you never said a word when he was in one of his moods, even when it threw the whole day off.
You never said anything at all. So why did he feel so comfortable complaining about you to his friends?
The question plagued you even through dinner.
You tried to play the good girlfriend. The bright smile, the sugary laugh. And you failed. Miserably. In turn, Heeseung's good mood became just that: a performance.
He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a furrow between his brows. He’d tried—god, he’d tried—to get you to open up. He asked about your day. He complimented how you looked. He even tried to crack a joke or two. Nothing worked.
He caught every dissatisfied glance, every fake smile. Soon, he was glowering at his food, too, all attempts to connect with you falling flat.
Finally, he let out an annoyed huff, stabbing at his food with his fork. "You know, if you didn't want to go out, you should have just said so."
You looked up. "Excuse me?"
"It's obvious you don't want to be here. You're acting like I forced you to come here with me."
"I'm not acting like anything," You mumbled, staring furiously down at your plate. It was pointless. You were no hungrier than you were back at the house, stomach sinking in the hall.
"Yes, you are," Heeseung insisted. "Did I piss you off, or something?"
"Forget it, Heeseung."
"No, why are you sulking?"
The comment made you bristle. "Maybe I wouldn't be if you didn't make it seem like being around me was such a chore."
He stared at you. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
You clamped your mouth shut, realizing too late that you'd said too much. Heat crawled up your neck. "Nothing."
But the damage was done. His posture shifted, concern turning to straight irritation. "So it is something I did. You've been pissed at me this whole time over... what, exactly?"
You avoided his gaze, trying not to notice the way the table next to you was glancing over. "It doesn't matter," You grumbled.
"There it is again. Forget it. It doesn't matter. Nothing's wrong." He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You shut me out and expect me not to do anything about it. Do you know how crazy that makes me?"
You raised your brows, letting out a dry laugh. "I seem to be doing that a lot lately."
"Doing what?"
"Driving you crazy," You hissed under your breath, glaring at him.
He sat back, looking you over like you were a puzzle he couldn't figure out. "You're infuriating sometimes, you know that?"
You scoffed. "Got it. Thanks."
"What did I do?" He asked flatly.
"Can we just finish dinner? I don't want to get into this right now."
He let out a laugh. "I don’t believe that. You've been pulling faces all night. And you're crazy if you think I'm not going to do something about the fact that you've been off since we left the house."
You rolled your eyes and his jaw ticked, his food forgotten entirely. There were times when Heeseung loved your attitude—the little scowl you got, the bite behind your words—but this was different. This was petty. And he wasn’t having it.
"I hate it when you do this," He muttered.
"Heeseung."
"What? What am I supposed to do? You won't tell me what's wrong, I can't fix it." He shook his head angrily. "You probably don't even know what you're pissed about."
You slammed your napkin down, earning a look of surprise and confusion. "I want to go," You said, glaring at him.
"What?"
"I want to leave." You couldn't take it. Sitting here, surrounded by couples and families having a great night, while you were working your way towards one of your worst.
His frown deepened. "Are you serious?"
You reached for your purse beneath the table, digging around to find your wallet. Anything to get you out of this restaurant sooner. "Yes, I am. You want me to tell you what I want? I want to go home."
He watched in utter disbelief as you opened your wallet. "What are you doing?"
"I'll pay, let's just go."
"Yeah, that's not happening."
"It doesn't matter, Heeseung, I can—"
“Don’t,” He snapped. The edge in his voice stopped you in your tracks. "I said I'm paying. End of discussion."
You watched furiously as he stood, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. Did he really have to pull the gentleman act? Even when you were in the middle of a fight?
He stepped around the table to find a waiter, leaving you to brew in silence. Guilt and frustration swirled around your mind, turning your stomach to knots.
This is exactly what he was talking about, you thought dejectedly. Stubborn. Antagonizing. Exhausting. He had painted a picture of you, and in your resentment, you'd brought it to life.
But you were too proud to admit what was bothering you.
That you'd been eavesdropping. That you'd heard what he told his friend, and that you'd let it get to you. Maybe that was what frustrated you most of all.
That you just couldn't let it go.
Heeseung came after a few minutes, face red and jaw clenched. You’d really done it now, trying to pay for your dinner like that. You watched as he pulled his jacket off the back of his chair, ash-blonde hair falling in his eyes as he waited for you to gather your things.
As you headed for the door, he leaned in, his voice dropping. "Don't ever try and pull shit that again," He mumbled, hand ghosting over your lower back.
He wouldn't touch you, not when you were both this pissed off, but he was still there. Hovering. Like he wouldn't let anyone even look at you the wrong way, no matter how angry he was.
One suffocating car ride home later, and Heeseung was throwing the front door open, light from the street spilling into the dark of the entryway. You trailed behind, his jacket around your shoulders to stave off the early autumn chill that had set in after the sun went down.
It didn't matter that he'd put it around your shoulders when he noticed your crossed arms on the walk back to the car. Or that he was carrying your bag in his hand. You were both still unbelievably pissed.
He turned around as the door closed behind you, his hand on his hips. He looked unreal—dark brows furrowed, shoulders and collarbones exposed in the black tank top he'd worn under the jacket.
If you weren’t so angry you’d have had him half-undressed on the floor already. His neck glinted silver, the chain you'd bought him for your first anniversary resting at the base of his throat.
"Are you gonna talk to me now?" He asked, looking at you expectantly.
You tugged his jacket tighter around yourself, refusing to meet his eyes. “I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”
"Yeah, well, I'm not accepting that answer. I'm sick of you shutting me out."
You pursed your lips. "Well, I wouldn't be 'shutting you out' if you didn't make me feel like I'm... annoying you all the time." Your voice faltered and you bit your lip, heat rising up the back of your neck.
"Annoying me? Where the hell did you get that from?"
"You said it yourself," You fired back. "That I take too long, that I make things difficult."
"When did I say that?”
“You think I’m too much!” You blurted out, your face feeling impossibly hot.
Heeseung’s expression changed, his frustration giving way to confusion.
“And it feels like shit,” You continued, throwing his jacket onto the couch, “To find our your boyfriend feels that way.”
He shook his head, his voice infuriatingly even. “You're putting words in my mouth and getting pissed at me for it?”
“I’m not putting words in your mouth,” You scoffed, shoving past him.
His hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist before you could leave. “Don’t walk away from me,” He snapped.
A jolt of electricity shot up your arm from where he touched you—sharp with anger and… something else you were too flustered to name. Your eyes shot up furiously, but he cut you off.
"I have never once said that you were too much for me."
“Yes, you did, you said that today on your stupid call with Sunghoon.”
He gaped at you. "Sunghoon?" A look of realization flashed in his eyes. Then, to your outrage, the hint of a smile. Like he was amused.
You made a face. "See, I knew it. I knew you wouldn't take me seriously.” You tried to pull out of his grasp but he wouldn’t let you go.
"What about Sunghoon?" He pressed.
You glared up at him defiantly. "You told him that I was too stubborn. That I'm too difficult—I heard you!"
His expression changed at that. Like he’d finally figured you out. He smirked down at you. "And you've been pissed at me all night because of that?"
You grimaced. "You are such a dick, Heeseung."
You tried to yank away, but he wouldn’t budge. He tightened his grip on your arm, pulling you closer until you were nearly chest-to-chest, his breath tickling your face.
"So this is why you were in such a shit mood all night," He taunted, leaning in. "You can be so fucking difficult sometimes, you know that?”
His voice was sugary smooth, a purr that tingled up the base of your spine. The smell of his cologne wafted around you, amplified by the heat of his temper.
"Fuck you," You spat back.
“How long were you gonna stew before you told me what was wrong, huh?”
"Let go of me."
"Is that why you didn't say anything? You didn't want to admit you'd been eavesdropping on my conversation?"
"Let go!" You snarled, shoving your arms into his chest.
There was a moment of struggle, a push and pull between you that had nothing to do with power or dominance. It was about anger. And desire. And the moment the two became indistinguishable. Shoulders bumped, hands shoved, and you both cursed, stumbling back against the wall opposite the door.
Your back hit the wall with a thud and you opened your mouth to cuss him out again, to call him an asshole. But your protests died on your lips as his hands grabbed your hips possessively, his mouth crashing onto yours.
It wasn’t tender, it was raw and biting. A challenge. A growl sounded in the back of his throat as he bit down on your lip—agitated, desperate, hungry.
You grabbed his face, digging your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. He moaned into your mouth, tightening his grip on you. Your stomach flipped.
"You said—" You pulled back, gasping, "—that I was too much."
"I said that you're fucking mine," Heeseung hissed, dragging your hips toward him.
Your knees nearly buckled.
"Bullshit," You spat. "You think I'm difficult."
He chuckled, his mouth grazing your neck. "I think you're more than difficult."
You gasped as he sucked at your skin harshly. His hand slid up your thigh, goosebumps rising beneath his fingers.
"I think you're stubborn," He said against your throat.
He slid a hand under the hem of your dress.
"Pushy."
His fingers ghosted over your hip.
"Overdramatic."
He hooked a finger over your underwear, tugging them down your legs. You inhaled sharply as the cool air hit your skin.
He pulled back to look at you, his hand slipping between your legs. "And you drive me fucking insane."
You huffed, glaring through your blush as you gripped his shoulders. "Now you know how it feels."
He pressed his mouth to yours again as he slid two fingers forward. You let out a moan as he gained purchase inside you, his digits teasing out a stuttering breath from behind your lips.
“Can’t believe you ruined our night over this,” He chuckled, watching smugly as your head tilted back. His fingers brushed your sweet spot, earning another soft groan.
“Fuck you,” You breathed, your fingers tangling in his shirt.
“You really got this worked up over nothing?”
“Nothing? You were shit-talking behind my back,” You gasped, trying to keep from grinding your hips into his hand.
His laugh was low, his other hand sliding up your waist. “Everything I said is true.” His eyes were fixed on your face, catching every tiny shift in your expression as he pumped his fingers inside you. “But you know I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Liar,” You bit back, dragging your nails down his torso.
You pushed him suddenly, shoving him away and wriggling out of his grasp. He let you go with a scoff, watching as you tore off down the hall.
“Running?” He taunted, following close behind. “That’s a new one.”
“I’m not running,” You shot back, throwing his door open and turning to face him. “I just don’t want to do this in the god damn entryway.”
He was on your tail, smug and overly confident. “Oh, so you do want to do this.”
You glared, but your breath betrayed you, quick and shallow as you stumbled back until the backs of your knees hit the bed. “You’re impossible.”
He caught your wrist before you could fall back onto the mattress, pulling you flush against him once more. “And you’re still mad.”
“Of course, I’m still mad. You think this changes what you said earlier?”
He smirked, brows lifting as he leaned in. “Good. Stay mad. I like you better that way.”
You grabbed his shirt and pulled him into you, working your frustration out against his mouth. It was hard to tell who was pulling and who was pushing, but all that really mattered was that you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.
You landed against the mattress with a thud as Heeseung shoved you down, following a second later with his body over yours. His chain swung forward, brushing against your nose as he caged you in—an arm on either side, his knee pushing your legs apart.
“You really think I don’t take you seriously?” He said, dragging his lips across your jaw.
“I think you still haven’t apologized for what you said.”
He chuckled against your skin. “You don’t even know what you heard.”
“Oh yeah? How about you explain it to me then?” You challenged, flushing as he grabbed your wrist and pinned it above your head.
He tilted his head as he looked down at you, lips curved. “Nah, I like you like this. All flustered and pissed at me. And I think deep down, you like it, too.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
He smiled, kissing his way down your collarbones. “And you love it.”
“I hate it,” You gritted out, arching beneath him.
He slid his hands down your body, across your stomach and over your hip. “You hate me?” His fingers dug into your waist. “That’s a first.” He taunted, reaching down to pull his belt buckle free.
“Right now? Yeah, I do.” You huffed. A shameless lie.
You wiggled beneath him, thighs squeezing him on either side. Your lower half was a knot of tension and desire, pulsing through your body every time the back of his hand brushed up against your cunt.
“I wanna hear you say it,” He egged you on, forcing your legs further apart.
You stared up at him defiantly, fisting his shirt to yank him down towards you. He opened his mouth willingly, pinning you down with another kiss. He slid his tongue over yours, muttering against your lips. “Say. It.”
“I hate you,” You exhaled. Not because it was true, but because you liked the sound he made in response. How his grip on your wrist tightened and his teeth found your neck.
He pushed inside you in one fluid motion, a moan scratching the back of his throat. There was a second of hesitation, one moment to adjust to the feeling of you, before he began moving. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t tender. It was hard and fast, a physical manifestation of all his frustration.
“F-fuck,” You gritted, grabbing onto his shoulders.
“You didn’t hear shit earlier,” He hissed, holding you down. His hips curled upwards, hitting an angle that made you dizzy.
You dug your nails into his skin, for the pain as much as the stability. “But you said—”
“I said no one else is ever gonna make you feel the way I do.” He dragged his hips over yours, pushing your thighs back to get at you even deeper. “I was telling Sunghoon that you’re mine. That the only person who can handle you is me.”
Your stomach fluttered at the feeling of him pushing all the way inside you. His breaths came out ragged, his face flushed. You clenched around him and he groaned.
“Shit—” He said through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good.” It almost sounded like a complaint.
Heeseung didn’t stop until you were falling apart beneath him. He curled his hips into yours with purpose, each drag a sick sort of punishment for the grief you’d given him. A feeling so good it hurt.
You tried to fight back, to keep a level hand and undo him just as much as he was undoing you. But it was no use. He was right: no one could make you feel as good as he did. He did all the right things, so effortless it was like he could’ve done it in his sleep.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair. You bit down his lip. He wrapped a hand around your throat. You clawed your fingers down his back. He was rough with you and you were rough right back, dragging your tongue over the bites you’d left in his skin. His shoulders red with angry scratches, his throat covered in teeth marks.
It didn’t take long for you to come undone. Your legs trembled, fingers curling against his chest as you tried to fight the high building in your stomach. You clamped your mouth shut, trying, with all your might, not to give him what he wanted.
But Heeseung had your body memorized. He knew what the twitch in your hips meant. Knew what happened after your breath started catching like that. He wrapped an arm beneath you as he kissed you, teasing your lips open with his tongue.
You couldn’t help the moans that poured into his mouth, or the way you pulled him in closer. He drank in your sounds with smug satisfaction, his fingers wrapped white-knuckled around your waist.
When you began grinding up against him, he knew he’d won. He rocked his hips into yours and smirked, reaching down to play with your clit.
“Heeseung,” You cried, “It’s too—fuck, it’s too much, I can’t—”
“Yes you can,” He purred into your neck, licking a long stripe from your shoulder to the base of your ear. “Come on, pretty girl. This is what you wanted, right?”
You moaned, hips stuttering against his hand.
“That’s it. Show me how pissed I made you.”
“Fuck. You.” You ground your teeth, breaking open with a helpless moan as you came around him.
“Shit," He hissed.
You were clenching too tight around him, sucking him in until he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He pushed into you again, twitching as his stomach coiled and snapped, all his restraint coming apart inside you.
He moaned furiously into your mouth, fucking you through his come down. He kept you pinned down, chest-to-chest, bodies pressed together like you were made for each other.
“Next time,” He said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “Let’s skip the argument and get straight here, yeah?”
You rolled your eyes. “There better not be a next time.”
His eyes glinted. “Come on, baby. Knowing you? There absolutely will be.”
summary: it’s heeseung’s birthday, and you’re determined to make it special. from setting up the venue to his favourite cake - you are determined to make it the most memorable party he has ever had. his thank you was just a cherry on top.
park jongseong (jay)
N/A
sim jaeyun (jake)
N/A
park sunghoon
✧ hush — drabble
wc: 0.5k — smut
summary: you and sunghoon have never gotten along—snide remarks, cold glares, and constant bickering defined your relationship. but what happens when you find yourself bending over for said enemy to have his way with you?
kim sunoo
N/A
yang jungwon
N/A
hyung line
✧ when you want his attention but he’s on the phone
wc: 1.5k — smut
summary: you're just a little desperate for attention, and you're willing to do anything for it... even if your boyfriend is on a very important work call.
enhypen
✧ when you accidentally sent them a nude — smut, fluff
