disclaimer : nothing that i write is an accurate representation of any person or character mentioned. my content is for entertainment purposes only and is to not be taken seriously
[disclaimer] : these links include porn, so watch at your own discretion! all videos included are hetero
✰ personal favorites
heeseung loves to lay you in his lap and please you with his fingers, circling your puffy clit and soaking in the sounds of your pretty little moans.
jay convinces you to film a personal video with him so he can look back at it when he goes on tour. he makes sure to get the perfect angle of your face while he fucks you dumb.
jake loooooves morning sex. he fucks you slow, making you take every inch like his good girl. ✰
sunghoon is obsessed with buying you new lingerie sets so he can pound your pussy each time you try them on. his hands always find their way around your throat.
sunoo eats you out purely for his own pleasure, but your cute reactions are also a plus.
jungwon is so sensitive it’s pathetic. your pussy feels too good gripping around his dick like that, he can’t help but to shoot cum all over your tummy. ✰
riki loves watching you please yourself on his cock, using him as your own personal fuck toy.
jake gripped your hips firmly, forcing you back onto his girthy cock as he thrusted deep into your pussy.
“fuck, yeah. take it bitch.” he growled, sliding his hand up your spine. his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly, forcing you to be vocal.
“don’t hide your moans now, pretty girl.” he whispers, turning your ear towards his lips. each thrust slapped his hips against your stinging ass, his balls smacking your clit. he yanked your hair again, pulling your upper body off the bed so he could lean over you, his chest pressing into your back.
"you love this, don't you? getting fucked like my personal fucktoy." all you could do is whimper in response.
he released your hair just to deliver another barrage of spanks. your orgasm built as his cock stretched you wide, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over.
sweat dripped from his brow onto your skin. he straightened up, both hands now gripping your reddened cheeks, spreading them apart to watch his dick plunge in and out of your slick hole. "gonna fill this pussy up," he grunted, spanking one more time before slamming home, his rhythm turning erratic.
you shattered first, screaming as your cunt spasmed around him, milking him. he roared, pulling your hair back one final time as he erupted, warm cum flooding your cunt depths in thick spurts. he kept thrusting through it, spanking your sensitive ass until you both collapsed from exhaustion and pleasure.
could you do a smut drabble for mommy kink!jake with a small chested reader (she has handfuls, not completely flat) and he whines and begs her to let him suck her tits :p
thinking about jake’s oral fixation ᥫ᭡. wc: 136
contains: reader is referred to as ‘mommy’, titty sucking, begging, nipple play
jake pressed his face into your chest, lips brushing over the soft curves of your tits. they fit perfectly in his palms, just enough to fill his hands without overflowing. he whined softly, his voice breaking as he looked up at you with desperate eyes.
"mommy, please," he begged, his tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe across one nipple. "let me suck on them. i need it so bad…. i can't stop thinking about it."
you cupped the back of his head, guiding him closer. he moaned at the permission, latching on eagerly. his lips sealed around your nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicked and circled the sensitive peak. he switched to the other side, whining again as he pulled more of your tit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing with the effort.
"mmm" he mumbled around the flesh, his free hand squeezing the other breast gently. spit slicked your skin as he sucked harder, teeth grazing lightly before he went back to being desperate and needy. his hips rocked against the bed, cock straining while he lost himself in your chest, begging between each wet suck. "more, please... don't make me stop."
whiny!mingi - drapes himself dramatically across your lap the second you sit down, making sure at least half his body is uncomfortable so you have to pay attention to him
whiny!mingi - wakes you up in the middle of the night by rutting his hard length between your thighs, voice cracking as he repeats "i can't sleep baby."
whiny!mingi - says “babe” forty times in a row with increasing urgency until you look up from your phone
whiny!mingi - sobs “suck harder, i need your throat, ungh,” bucking his hips up to fuck your mouth, drool dripping down his chin as he rambles about how perfect your lips feel wrapped around his shaft.
whiny!mingi - will follow you room to room complaining that he’s bored, but the moment you suggest something to do he says “no not that.” he won’t say what he really wants (wink wink)
whiny!mingi - pouts and whines “baby, please, my cock hurts so bad”when you ignore his throbbing bulge in his pants during movie night, humping your thigh desperately until you finally stroke him off.
whiny!mingi - whines that you never kiss him first and then gets flustered the second you actually do
whiny!mingi - who’s version of “I miss you” is showing up wherever you are and sighing loudly until you acknowledge him
jake gripped your hips firmly, forcing you back onto his girthy cock as he thrusted deep into your pussy.
“fuck, yeah. take it bitch.” he growled, sliding his hand up your spine. his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly, forcing you to be vocal.
“don’t hide your moans now, pretty girl.” he whispers, turning your ear towards his lips. each thrust slapped his hips against your stinging ass, his balls smacking your clit. he yanked your hair again, pulling your upper body off the bed so he could lean over you, his chest pressing into your back.
"you love this, don't you? getting fucked like my personal fucktoy." all you could do is whimper in response.
he released your hair just to deliver another barrage of spanks. your orgasm built as his cock stretched you wide, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over.
sweat dripped from his brow onto your skin. he straightened up, both hands now gripping your reddened cheeks, spreading them apart to watch his dick plunge in and out of your slick hole. "gonna fill this pussy up," he grunted, spanking one more time before slamming home, his rhythm turning erratic.
you shattered first, screaming as your cunt spasmed around him, milking him. he roared, pulling your hair back one final time as he erupted, warm cum flooding your cunt depths in thick spurts. he kept thrusting through it, spanking your sensitive ass until you both collapsed from exhaustion and pleasure.
jake gripped your hips firmly, forcing you back onto his girthy cock as he thrusted deep into your pussy.
“fuck, yeah. take it bitch.” he growled, sliding his hand up your spine. his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly, forcing you to be vocal.
“don’t hide your moans now, pretty girl.” he whispers, turning your ear towards his lips. each thrust slapped his hips against your stinging ass, his balls smacking your clit. he yanked your hair again, pulling your upper body off the bed so he could lean over you, his chest pressing into your back.
"you love this, don't you? getting fucked like my personal fucktoy." all you could do is whimper in response.
he released your hair just to deliver another barrage of spanks. your orgasm built as his cock stretched you wide, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over.
sweat dripped from his brow onto your skin. he straightened up, both hands now gripping your reddened cheeks, spreading them apart to watch his dick plunge in and out of your slick hole. "gonna fill this pussy up," he grunted, spanking one more time before slamming home, his rhythm turning erratic.
you shattered first, screaming as your cunt spasmed around him, milking him. he roared, pulling your hair back one final time as he erupted, warm cum flooding your cunt depths in thick spurts. he kept thrusting through it, spanking your sensitive ass until you both collapsed from exhaustion and pleasure.
jake gripped your hips firmly, forcing you back onto his girthy cock as he thrusted deep into your pussy.
“fuck, yeah. take it bitch.” he growled, sliding his hand up your spine. his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly, forcing you to be vocal.
“don’t hide your moans now, pretty girl.” he whispers, turning your ear towards his lips. each thrust slapped his hips against your stinging ass, his balls smacking your clit. he yanked your hair again, pulling your upper body off the bed so he could lean over you, his chest pressing into your back.
"you love this, don't you? getting fucked like my personal fucktoy." all you could do is whimper in response.
he released your hair just to deliver another barrage of spanks. your orgasm built as his cock stretched you wide, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over.
sweat dripped from his brow onto your skin. he straightened up, both hands now gripping your reddened cheeks, spreading them apart to watch his dick plunge in and out of your slick hole. "gonna fill this pussy up," he grunted, spanking one more time before slamming home, his rhythm turning erratic.
you shattered first, screaming as your cunt spasmed around him, milking him. he roared, pulling your hair back one final time as he erupted, warm cum flooding your cunt depths in thick spurts. he kept thrusting through it, spanking your sensitive ass until you both collapsed from exhaustion and pleasure.
jake gripped your hips firmly, forcing you back onto his girthy cock as he thrusted deep into your pussy.
“fuck, yeah. take it bitch.” he growled, sliding his hand up your spine. his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping it firmly, forcing you to be vocal.
“don’t hide your moans now, pretty girl.” he whispers, turning your ear towards his lips. each thrust slapped his hips against your stinging ass, his balls smacking your clit. he yanked your hair again, pulling your upper body off the bed so he could lean over you, his chest pressing into your back.
"you love this, don't you? getting fucked like my personal fucktoy." all you could do is whimper in response.
he released your hair just to deliver another barrage of spanks. your orgasm built as his cock stretched you wide, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over.
sweat dripped from his brow onto your skin. he straightened up, both hands now gripping your reddened cheeks, spreading them apart to watch his dick plunge in and out of your slick hole. "gonna fill this pussy up," he grunted, spanking one more time before slamming home, his rhythm turning erratic.
you shattered first, screaming as your cunt spasmed around him, milking him. he roared, pulling your hair back one final time as he erupted, warm cum flooding your cunt depths in thick spurts. he kept thrusting through it, spanking your sensitive ass until you both collapsed from exhaustion and pleasure.
「summary」 : physics was never a strong subject for you, but when your hot new tutor kim hongjoong comes to the rescue, you start to wonder if you're really staying for the lessons - or just for him.
「warnings」 : mdni, college party, academic pressure, smoking weed, shotgunning, kissing, cuddling, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing, happy ending woohoo!
「author's note」 : this is my contribution to the LIVE ALIVE! collab event with @sungbeam. I am grateful for everyone i met in this collab and i recommend going and reading everyone else's works as well!
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The hours of studying weren't cutting it anymore. For the first time in your college career, your grade threatened to drop to a C.
To every other student, that may not seem like the end of the world. But to you, a C on your transcript could put you at risk of losing your academic scholarship.
This scholarship is the only thing getting you through school, cause only lord knows your broke parents aren’t able to pay for any of it.
That’s what made the whole situation kind of difficult. Your pride of knowing you are intelligent, but not being able to allow yourself to get help until it’s too late.
It was Mingi’s party where you would finally admit it.
You hadn’t even planned on going. You had a practice set due next Friday and a textbook that had been open on your desk for three days without you actually reading it, and the idea of spending a Friday night pretending to be fine while a chapter on velocity sat waiting for you felt wrong.
You went anyway. Because staying in that room alone with your own spiral had stopped being productive two weeks ago.
The party was what Mingi’s parties always were - small at first, then suddenly not, people multiplying from somewhere, the kitchen getting loud.
By ten o’clock you were on the balcony.
Hongjoong was already out there.
You knew him the way you knew a lot of people at this point in the semester - from being in the same department and having mutual friends. You’d talked before. Enough to be comfortable, not enough to have anything real. He was easy to be around, which you’d noticed without meaning to.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard for a Friday,” he said, without looking over at you.
“I’m always thinking too hard.” You said facing his direction.
He glanced at you then, brief. Accepted that. Looked back.
You stood there for a while without talking, which was fine, easier than fine, actually. You didn’t have to pretend to care about anything at the moment.
Eventually, because the drinks loosened things and you were tired of holding it in, you said: “I might be failing physics.”
He turned.
“Not failing,” you corrected. “C range. Which for me is…” You stopped, hand scratching up the back of your neck while breaking eye contact. “It’s not good.”
He didn’t say that’s not so bad or I’m sure you’ll be fine, which you appreciated more than he could’ve known. He just asked: “What part?”
So you told him. It was pretty much everything. The lab equations, formulas, the way things made sense in lecture and then fell apart the second you tried to apply them alone at your desk at midnight.
He listened like he was actually tracking it, not just waiting for you to finish.
“I took that class last year,” he said, when you were done. “I still have all my notes.”
You looked at him.
“I’m not a tutor or anything,” he added, like he wanted to be honest about that. “But I know the material. And sometimes it just helps to have someone explain it differently than the professor does.”
You were quiet for a second. Your pride sat somewhere in your chest, doing what it always did - resisting.
But you thought about your scholarship. About your parents. About the practice set sitting on your desk.
“Okay,” you said.
He looked mildly surprised, like he hadn’t been sure you’d say yes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You turned back to the railing. “If you’re offering.”
“I am.”
You worked out the details quickly after that - Thursday, his place, early evening. Uncomplicated.
He texted you the next morning just to confirm, which you hadn’t expected, and you wrote back your schedule and tried not to read anything into the fact that he’d texted first.
You spent the days between being sensible about it. He was someone you knew. He was helping you pass a class. That was the whole story.
You’d almost convinced yourself of that by Thursday.
His apartment smells exactly like him.
"Ignore the mess," he said, though there wasn't one. It was neat - books stacked on the coffee table, a blanket draped over the back of the couch, and a warm-toned light coming from the lamp in the corner. "I usually study out here, but the kitchen table has more room, if you would rather."
"Here is fine," you say while settling into the couch.
Hongjoong hesitated, then sat on the opposite end. He pulled textbooks out of his bag along with printed notes, a calculator, and things to write with. He really took this seriously.
He set up the area very organized, flipping the pages to chapter four.
You watched as his hands started to draw. They were nice. He had good handwriting too, the kind that flowed across the page and didn't look rushed at all.
He got into the in depth explanations on lab equations, comparing them to your collected data and to the work on the upcoming test.
"Does that make sense so far?" He asked, glancing up.
"Yeah it does. You were right. You are explaining it way better than the professor ever could."
"Oh, thanks. I've just taken the class before," he scratched the back of his neck.
"When?"
"I took it last year. I am trying to graduate early." He started to crack his knuckles, becoming a little anxious. "Sorry, that's not important, let me show you how to solve the practice problems."
-
An hour passed more easily than expected. Physics almost made sense when Hongjoong was the one explaining it. Or maybe you just liked listening to him talk.
He helped you gather your things as you prepared to head towards the door.
"Same time next week?" You mentioned while putting your shoes on.
"Yeah, definitely. If you want," he smiled.
"I do."
You left him standing in the doorway, and if you'd turned around, you'd seen him standing there long after you left, wondering why his heart was beating so fast.
That study packet got turned in. The weekly quiz was graded. You finally felt a little bit more confident in your Physics abilities.
The scores came back. Better than expected. B- on both of them.
That is definitely a start to leveling out your grade.
In the second session, you wore a tank top that always slides off one shoulder.
Hongjoong noticed. You caught the way his eyes flickered while he set up his notes.
"How was the quiz?" He broke the silence, making himself comfortable on the couch again. This time he was a little closer to you. Or maybe you were overthinking it.
"Better than expected. I actually got a B."
"Oh wow, That is a lot better than the last one," His face actually lit up. Something about his genuine expression made your chest feel a little warm. "See? you just needed a little push."
"Or maybe I just needed a better teacher," you added, taking out your laptop from your bag.
He tried to hide his face in his palms as his ears started to turn red. "I-uh… No, you did the work."
The session started off like the last one, but you started to notice things they never stood out before. He was so patient with you, even when he had to explain things multiple times. The way he pushed his black hair back when he was thinking, or how he tapped his pen between his fingers while he watched you use the calculator.
Fuck. It was kind of hot.
You rested your chin on his shoulder as he continued on about formulas, or whatever he was talking about.
Hongjoong went still for a second. He didn't push you away, he just went back to what he was saying. You didn't move back.
He kept talking, but his voice went slightly unsteady as he tried to focus only on physics.
"So if you apply this equation here-" his breath hitched as you shifted. "-you will get the velocity."
"Mmm," you hummed as if you were absorbing the information. Really, you were just watching how his throat moved when he swallowed.
His hand trembled as he wrote out the next practice problem. Poor him, he tried so hard to keep his eyes on the paper.
"Try this one," he slid the paper towards you, with his voice a little higher.
When you sat up, you heard him sigh. Hard to tell if it was relief or disappointment.
You worked through the problem, aware of him watching over your work. His leg bounced every few seconds, a sign of his nervousness.
"Is this right?"
He jerked back "It's perfect, you got it."
"Thanks to you."
He cleared his throat after a second, reaching back for the textbook. His hand bumped into yours.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"You apologize a lot."
"I- do I?" He finally looked at you.
"Yeah," you smiled, tilting your head. "You don't have to, I don't mind."
The rest of the session was… hard.
Hard to focus on studying. Hard to focus on anything but him.
He waved you goodbye as you walked through the door. He let out a noise; not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh.
He waited till he could hear your footsteps in the hall get quieter as you walked away before sinking back into the couch.
What the hell was that?
When you got home, the scent of Hongjoong's cologne started to linger in your mind longer than it should have. It was beginning to become a problem.
The tutoring sessions were innocent enough, but you can't help but to let your imagination wander when thinking about them.
He was undeniably handsome, but not in an aggressive way. Quietly so. The kind you didn't notice all at once - it accumulated. The slope of his jaw. The way his eyes moved when he was reading, focused and unhurried. His hands, which you had spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about since the second session. Long fingers, especially sexy.
You were sitting in your own apartment now, textbook open in front of you, and none of it was going in.
You read the same sentence four times.
It wasn't that you hadn't been attracted to people before. You had. This just felt different in a way that was inconvenient, given the circumstances. He was your tutor. Technically. Sort of. He had been very clear he wasn't a tutor, which somehow made the whole thing worse.
You closed the textbook.
The problem wasn't even the attraction itself - you could manage that. You'd filed things away before, kept them at a distance. The problem was how easy he was to be around. How he didn't make you feel stupid when you got something wrong, just waited, redirected, tried a different angle. How he remembered what you'd struggled with the week before without you having to remind him.
The patience of it was what got to you.
You leaned back against your headboard, staring at the ceiling.
You thought about the second session. His voice went unsteady. His hand bumping yours and the way he'd pulled back like he'd touched something hot. The sigh when you sat up - the one you still hadn't decided the meaning of.
You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth.
He probably helped other people. Probably sat just as close to them, explained things just as carefully. You had absolutely no reason to believe you were anything other than someone he was doing a favor for.
And yet, you reached for your phone on instinct, scrolled past his contact without pressing it, then set it face down on the mattress.
You opened your textbook again. Read the same sentence. Closed it.
You had to wait another week before you could see him again.
That is way too long.
You pick your phone back up and scroll back to your chat. The only message there were pertaining to the tutoring or your grades.
You nervously shoot him a text. A simple -
hey, do you ever just like… take breaks? from studying i mean
You sent it before you could rethink it. Watched the screen. Told yourself not to watch the screen.
The dots appeared fast.
yeah lol why
You chewed the inside of your cheek.
idk. just been in my head a lot lately. my apartment is starting to feel like a prison cell
A pause this time. Longer than the last. Long enough that you started composing an exit strategy - never mind, just being dramatic - and then his response came through.
i usually take drives when it gets like that. clear my head
You read it once. Read it again.
that's actually a good idea
You hadn't planned what came after that. You didn't need to.
you wanna come with? i can pick you up Saturday. like 8ish
You stared at it.
He had suggested it himself. Unprompted. I can pick you up - not we could, not maybe sometime.
Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a second longer than necessary.
yeah. 8 works
He sent back a single okay with no punctuation, which for some reason made your face warm.
You put your phone down and sat very still in the middle of your bed.
Outside of the sessions. No notes, no textbook, no practice problems giving you something to look at that wasn't him. Just his car and the dark and whatever version of yourself showed up when there was nothing academic left to hide behind.
You thought about the way his voice went unsteady in the second session. The sigh you still hadn't figured out.
You pulled your knees to your chest.
Saturday.
You were already nervous and it was only Thursday.
When he arrived, shivers went down your spine. You don't know how to act around him. Not outside of 'tutoring', and definitely not alone.
The scent of his car was exactly the same one you had been thinking about the past two days.
It was masculine. And very addictive.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
You buckled your seatbelt and stared forward.
"You eat?" he asked, pulling away from the curb.
"Not really."
A second of silence.
"Wanna grab snacks from the convenience store before we head out?" He offers.
"Honestly, yeah. That sounds nice," you say, stomach ironically growling simultaneously.
The drive to the store was short, but no less awkward. He had soft music playing lowly in the background, and a slight mist intermittently coating the windshield.
He held the door for you, held the snacks you chose, and paid for your food at the end of it. It was clear it was just a friendly gesture, but his actions couldn't help but tug at your heartstrings.
He didn't tell you where he was going, and you didn't ask.
That felt like the right call. The city thinned out gradually - fewer streetlights, more open roads, the kind of quiet that only exists past midnight when everyone sensible has gone home. Hongjoong drove with one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting against the window. Like he'd done this a hundred times.
He pulled off onto a road you didn't recognize, gravel crunching under the tires, and parked at the edge of what looked like an overlook. The city sat below it, distant and glittering, doing its thing without you.
"Here," he said simply.
He killed the engine. Reached into the back seat without much ceremony and pulled a small tin containing weed from his jacket pocket, setting it on the console between you.
You looked at it. Looked at him.
"I should've asked first," he said, reading you. "We don't have to."
"No, I -" You shook your head. "I want to."
He cracked the window on his side. You did the same. The night air came in cool and damp, carrying the smell of wet grass.
He was unhurried about the whole thing. Careful, even. His hands moved with the same quiet focus they did when he was setting up his notes, and you watched them the way you always did without meaning to.
He passed it to you first.
The first pull smoothed something out in your chest almost immediately. Not dramatically - just a quiet loosening to the tension you hadn't noticed you were carrying.
You passed it back.
For a while neither of you said anything. The music was still going, faint enough that you could barely make out the song. Hongjoong tilted his head back against the headrest and exhaled slowly toward the cracked window.
"Is it always like this?" you asked eventually. "When you drive."
"Pretty much." He turned to look at you. "Does it help?"
You considered that honestly. Considered all of the work you have been trying to get through over the past few weeks.
"Yeah," you said. "It actually does."
He looked at you a second longer than necessary, then back out the windshield.
You sank a little lower in your seat. The warmth was settling in fully now.
-
Maybe the weed made you a little more confident, or maybe you are just an idiot. But after a few more hits, you asked a question that definitely caught him off guard.
"Can I ask you something?" you say, gesturing for another drag.
"Yeah, what's up?" he hands it over.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" you squeak out.
A second of silence.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha-"
"No, I don't," You both interrupt each other.
"Oh no, its fine. I don't mind that you asked," he reassures you.
"I definitely just made it awkward," you say with a straight face.
"No you didn't," he giggled, "Its not a big deal."
You passed it back to him and stared out at the city, pretending to be very interested in the lights.
"Why?" he asked after a moment.
"Why what?"
"Why did you want to know?"
You could feel him looking at you from the side. You kept your eyes forward.
"Just curious," you said, which was technically true and also completely dishonest.
He made a small sound. Not quite convinced. He took a drag and let the silence sit there between you, and you got the feeling he was doing it on purpose - giving you room to say something more if you wanted to.
You didn't. Not yet.
"Do you?" he asked.
"Do I what?"
"Have a boyfriend."
"No," you said.
"Okay."
"Okay," you repeated.
Neither of you elaborated. The rain had picked back up again, softer now, and the windows had started to fog at the edges from the warmth inside the car. Hongjoong reached over to wipe a small circle clear on his side, and the mundaneness of it somehow made everything feel more intimate.
You were too aware of everything. The proximity. The low music. The way his knee was angled slightly toward you without him seeming to notice.
You were mid-thought when he turned to face you.
He didn't say anything. Just looked at you for a second with something unreadable in his expression, and then he leaned forward.
Your breath caught.
He exhaled slowly, the smoke passing warm from his mouth to yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of it. Your eyes stayed open for a second too long, locking eye contact with him across the console.
Neither of you moved back.
The smoke dissolved. The space between you didn't.
His forehead came to rest against yours, barely - just the lightest point of contact, like a question. His breath was unsteady in a way that made something ache in your chest, because he was always so composed and right now he wasn't, and that undid you more than anything else could have.
You closed the last inch yourself.
It was soft at first, like both of you were still deciding. His hand came up slowly, fingers brushing your jaw, and that was what made it real. The careful way he touched you, like he'd been thinking about it and was trying not to get it wrong.
You kissed him back properly, and he made a quiet sound against your mouth that you felt more than heard.
When you pulled back, neither of you went far. His hand was still at your jaw. Your fingers had found the front of his jacket at some point without you noticing.
He searched your face in the low light.
"I've been wanting to do that," he said quietly, "since the second session."
You laughed short, a little breathless. "The second session."
"When you leaned your head on my shoulder." He exhaled. "I didn't know what to do with myself after you left."
You giggled, resting your forehead against his again. The rain came down steadily against the roof, the city lights blurred softly through the fogged windows, and you stayed right there, in no rush to go anywhere at all.
-
Some time went by and the high started to fade into tiredness. It was nearing midnight, and though neither of you had anything important the following day, you both decided to call it a night.
He drove you back home, but this time conversation flowed easier than the first time. Laughing, cracking jokes, playfully punching his arm when he made you giggle.
When you finally got back home, wished you a goodnight, and waited until he saw you get inside before driving away.
Your phone screen lit up.
thank you for tonight :)
i was actually just about to say the same thing, thank you
You can feel the blood rush to your face as you try to keep your composure.
so i'll see you thursday? he asked.
of course :P
You and Hongjoong texted each other here and there throughout the week, just check-ins and making sure you didn't need any help with homework.
Once the next tutoring session rolled around, it felt more like you were there just to be around him, and it was less and less about the physics, or your grade.
Of course you would still put in the work and pay attention, but what's the problem with having some eye candy to look at while you did it?
-
Tonight he wore that delicious black sweater that dipped just low enough to expose his collarbones. You'd be lying if you said you didn't catch yourself staring at them, or the way his lips moved when he tried explaining something that you had no intention of listening to.
"Are you listening to anything that I am saying?" he paused, voice cracking a little.
He didn't look at you. He couldn't. He just kept his eyes glued to the notebook, but the flush on his cheeks was a dead giveaway.
"I'm taking it all in, trust me," you murmured with your face suddenly closer to his than it was moments before.
He didn't even know how to respond. His eyes just glance between yours, with a shade of pink blooming across his face as he tries to get back to what he was saying.
"Right," he cleared his throat, shifting back to put a little distance between you. "So, the velocity equation…"
"Hongjoong."
He stopped.
You took the pen from his hand and set it on the coffee table. He watched you do it without protest.
"We're not really doing physics right now," you said.
He exhaled through his nose, a quiet, reluctant sound. He'd been pretending not to know that and you'd just made it impossible. "What do you mean?"
"I think you know what I mean…" your voice drops, sliding your hand in his thigh.
You laughed, which seemed to break something loose in him too, and then he was smiling, the real kind, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, and something in your chest pulled tight at the sight of it.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Simple, careful. His fingers lingered at your jaw the same way they had in the car, like he remembered exactly where they were supposed to go.
"You make it really hard to be responsible," he murmured.
"Then stop trying so hard."
He searched your face for a second, that quiet, steady look he had, making sure. Then he closed the space between you.
This kiss wasn't soft the way the first one had been. This one knew the answer already. His hand curved around your jaw, tilting you toward him, and you felt him exhale slowly through his nose like he'd been holding something in all week.
You turned toward him fully, fingers finding the front of that sweater, the same way they'd found his jacket in the car. He made a low sound when you pulled him closer, and his free hand came to your waist, warm even through the fabric.
The notebook slid off the cushion and landed on the floor.
Neither of you acknowledged it.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, forehead dropping to yours, breath uneven. Up close like this, in the warm lamplight of his apartment, you could see the flush across his cheekbones, the way his eyes had gone a little dark.
"Physics can wait," you said quietly. "I just want to make you feel good."
"Wait." He squeaked quietly. "I have never done any of… this… before." He gestured with his hand.
"Shhh… just let me take care of you," you softly kissed his neck, lips dragging against the sensitive skin. "Will you let me do that?"
He leaned back further on the couch, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. "Fuck," He whispered. "Yes, please."
A few wet kisses left his neck glistening with your saliva. Your fingers trail down from his shoulders to his abdomen, unable to ignore the tent growing in his pants. Virgins get hard so easily.
He reached down, his fingers threading gently through your hair, not pulling, just guiding as you leaned forward. Your hands trembled slightly as you tugged at the waistband of his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing, the tip covered with pre-cum. It was thicker than you'd imagined, veined and curving slightly upward, making your mouth water at the sight.
You wrapped your fingers around the base, feeling the heat of him pulse against your palm. Hongjoong let out a low groan, his hips shifting involuntarily as you stroked him once, slowly, from root to tip. "Fuck, that feels good," he murmured, his voice rough but airy.
Emboldened, you parted your lips and took the head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive underside. The salty taste of him filled your senses, and you hummed softly, the vibration drawing another deep moan from him. You sucked gently at first, your cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper inch by inch.
Hongjoong's grip in your hair tightened just a fraction, not forceful but encouraging, as he watched you with hooded eyes. "Just like that... yeah, baby, take more." You obliged, relaxing your throat and sliding down further until the tip brushed the back of your mouth. Your free hand cupped his balls, massaging them lightly, feeling them draw up tight under your touch.
The room filled with wet, slurping sounds as you worked him over, your saliva coating his shaft and dripping down to your fingers. You pulled back occasionally to lick along the length, tracing the prominent vein with the flat of your tongue before diving back in, sucking harder now, your pace quickening. Hongjoong's thighs tensed under your arms, his breaths turning ragged.
"God, your mouth is so fucking perfect," he gasped, his head falling back against the couch. You glanced up at him through your lashes, the sight of his parted lips and flushed cheeks spurring you on. You hollowed your cheeks again, sucking with more pressure, your hand twisting in rhythm with your mouth.
He bucked slightly, a warning rumble in his chest. "I'm close... don't stop."
You didn't, pushing yourself to take him as deep as you could, gagging just a little but powering through, determined to make him unravel. With a guttural curse, Hongjoong came, his cock twitching as hot spurts of cum flooded your mouth. You swallowed around him, milking every drop until he shuddered and went limp, pulling you up gently to kiss you breathless.
"That felt…incredible," he whispered against your lips.
You lied against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. He fixed his pants to be halfway decent while you laid together, his fingers combing through your hair.
You pulled back just enough to look at him. His hair was slightly messed up, cheeks still flushed, eyes soft in a way you hadn't seen before.
You stayed like that for a while. Long enough that the night got quieter outside and his breathing evened out into something comfortable. At some point he reached over and turned the lamp down without disturbing you, and that small, thoughtful thing lodged itself somewhere in your chest and stayed there.
When you finally left, he walked you to the door.
"Thursday?" you said.
He nodded, a small smile catching the corner of his mouth. "Thursday."
You didn't kiss him again at the door, but you thought about it. And by the way he watched you go, you got the feeling he did too.
Thursday came faster than expected, which should have been a relief and somehow made it worse.
You stood outside his door for a second longer than necessary before knocking. You weren't sure what version of him was going to answer. He opened the door and his eyes went soft for just a second before he caught himself.
"Hey."
"Hey."
He stepped aside to let you in. The apartment smelled the same. The lamp was already on, warm in the corner, and the notebooks were out on the coffee table like always. Like nothing had changed. Like he'd set everything up the same way on purpose, giving you both something familiar to stand on.
You appreciated that more than you knew how to say.
You sat down. He sat beside you - closer than the first session, not quite as close as last week, somewhere carefully in between. You noticed. You didn't say anything.
"So," he started, uncapping his pen.
"So," you echoed.
He glanced at you sideways. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth and he looked back down before it could become something more. "Chapter six. Momentum."
"Right."
"You okay?"
"Yeah." You tucked your leg underneath you, settling in. "Are you?"
He paused, pen hovering over the notebook.
"Getting there," he said.
Which was somehow exactly the right answer.
The session started the way they always did, but something underneath it had shifted. He was still patient. Still explained things twice without making you feel like you needed to apologize for it. But every so often he'd glance over and catch you already looking, and neither of you would say anything, just return to the notebook like it hadn't happened.
It happened four times. You counted.
At some point your knee found his without either of you moving toward each other. You both left it there.
"Okay, try this one," he said, sliding the paper toward you.
You worked through it slowly, aware of him watching over your shoulder the way he always did, that quiet focused attention that you had completely given up pretending not to like.
"Is that right?"
He leaned in to check. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him.
"Almost," he said. "You dropped a negative sign here."
"Ugh."
"It's an easy fix." His pen moved across the paper, correcting it gently. "You had the right idea, you just-"
"Lost track."
"Yeah." He looked up. You were closer than either of you had accounted for. His eyes dropped briefly to your mouth and then back up, the apples of his cheeks going pink. "You just lost track."
He didn't move back. Neither did you.
"Hongjoong."
"Mm."
"We're doing it again."
"Doing what," he said, which was absolutely unconvincing.
"Pretending."
He exhaled slowly through his nose. Set the pen down. Turned to look at you properly for the first time since you'd arrived.
"I don't know what we're doing," he admitted quietly. "I just know I've been thinking about last week a lot."
"Me too."
"I wasn't sure if that was…" He stopped. Started again. "I didn't want to assume."
Something in your chest pulled loose at that. Of course he hadn't assumed. Of course he'd set the notebooks out and sat at a careful distance and tried to give you an easy out if you wanted one. That was just who he was.
"You're not assuming," you said.
He searched your face the way he did when he was making sure he understood a problem correctly. Then something in his expression settled.
"Okay," he said softly.
"Okay."
He reached over and closed the notebook.
Even though the following tutoring sessions consisted of a worrying fusion of actual tutoring and… something else, your grades slowly started to improve.
The notebooks still came out, out of habit, out of genuine necessity - but so did the takeout containers, and the long conversations that had nothing to do with lab reports or equations. You learned that Hongjoong had a playlist for every mood and none of them were labeled. That he stress-cleaned when deadlines got close. That he laughed with his whole face when something actually caught him off guard.
You told him things too. About the scholarship. About your parents. About the specific brand of pride that had kept you from asking for help until a stranger's balcony and too much to drink had finally loosened it out of you.
He listened the way he always did. Made you feel wanted.
Your final grades were imputed into the system.
General Physics: 88% (B+)
You stared at it on your laptop screen for a long moment before you texted him. No buildup, no explanation. Just a screenshot and a single line-
i think you saved my GPA.
His response came fast.
you did all of the work. you deserve it.
You got the scholarship renewal letter in May.
It came in an email with a lot of formal language that you didn't read past the first line, because the first line was enough. You sat at your desk, in the same chair you'd been staring at a textbook from when none of this had started yet, and felt something settle quietly in your chest.
You called Hongjoong before you'd even fully processed it.
"I got it," you said when he picked up.
"Yeah?" The warmth that crept in before he could compose himself. "Of course you did."
"You sound more sure than I was."
"I was always sure," he said.
It wasn't dramatic, the way things shifted between you. There was no single moment you could point to and say that's when it became real - it had been accumulating the whole time, the way his attractiveness had, quietly and all at once.
It was real the night he drove you back from dinner and reached over to hold your hand on the center console without making anything of it.
It was real the morning you texted him something stupid at 7am and he responded immediately, which meant he was already awake, which meant he was already thinking about his phone.
It was real when he introduced you to his friends as someone important and then looked mortified about it, ears going red, and you had laughed for a long time while he stared at the ceiling.
By the time summer started, the physics textbook had been returned to whatever shelf it had come from. The notebooks were still around, tucked somewhere in his apartment. Occasionally you'd find one and flip through the pages, the careful handwriting, the diagrams, the practice problems he'd written out for you at the beginning of all of this.
Does that make sense so far?
It did now. All of it.
"Stop reading that," Hongjoong said from the kitchen without looking up, like he'd developed some sense for exactly what you were doing at all times. "It's embarrassing."
"It's not embarrassing. It's sweet."
"It's a physics notebook."
"That's what makes it sweet."
He came around the counter with two mugs and set one in front of you, then sat beside you - middle of the couch, same as always - and looked at the notebook over your shoulder.
"You actually got that one wrong," he said, pointing.
"I got the next one right."
"You did," he agreed.
He leaned back, pulling you with him out of habit. You let the notebook fall closed.
Outside, the semester was over. Your grade was where it needed to be. The scholarship was secure for another year.
And Hongjoong's arm was around your shoulder, warm and easy, like it had always belonged there.
You closed your eyes, and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck.
Now, it felt natural.
-/-/-/-/
taglist : @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @kisssan @way2jellyous @civeua @stxrrywoo @strhwa @s0ul1nyah @velvetjoong @klowiishere @eviemae5864 @3nhyxx @leewayout @paomaoposts @eggielix @matzduo (reupload since i messed the first one up)
you lay on niki’s bed as the light of his computer screen illuminates the room. he's focused, his fingers flying over the keyboard, wearing that black chrome hearts hoodie you love - the one with the silver cross emblem glinting faintly. his dark hair falls into his eyes, and he doesn't even glance your way as you watch him, but there is an undeniable heat building between your thighs.
you slide off the bed and approach him quietly, your bare feet padding across the carpet. he doesn't notice at first, too absorbed in beating his opponents. you stand behind his chair, your hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. “babe,” you whisper, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. he hums in acknowledgment but keeps playing, his body relaxed under your touch.
you walk around the edge of the chair and straddle his lap carefully. the chair creaks under your weight as you settle onto him, your shorts riding up your thighs. niki finally spares you a quick glance, his eyes dark. “what are you doing?” he murmurs, but his hands stay on the keyboard and mouse. you grind against him lightly, feeling the hardness starting to grow in his pants. “just missing you,” you reply, your voice breathy.
he chuckles low, returning his focus to the screen, but one hand slips away from the mouse to rest on your hip. you take the invitation, rocking your hips forward, the friction sending sparks through you. your pussy aches already, wetness soaking through your panties. you kiss his jaw, nipping at the skin, and he tilts his head slightly to give you better access. “you're distracting me,” he says, less like a complaint, more like encouragement.
you reach down and guide his free hand between your legs. his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your shorts, and he pauses for a split second, his character on screen taking a hit. “fuck,” he mutters, but it's about the game, not you. you unzip your shorts and shimmy them down along with your panties, exposing your slick folds to the cool air. niki's fingers find your entrance immediately, teasing the wetness there as you hover over his lap.
you lift yourself slightly, positioning so that when he pushes two fingers inside you, you can sink down onto them. he does it effortlessly, his digits curling just right as you lower your body. the stretch feels perfect, his skin warm against your inner walls. you gasp, gripping his shoulders through the hoodie, and start to move. up and down, riding his fingers slowly at first, the wet sounds of your pussy echoing softly in the room.
“you're so wet,” he whispers during a lull in the game, his eyes flicking to yours. you nod, biting your lip, your breasts heaving under your thin tank top. you pull the straps down, freeing your tits, and niki's gaze lingers before snapping back to the screen. his fingers thrust deeper, scissoring inside you, hitting that spot that makes you go crazy. you moan loudly, risking his friends hearing though the headset.
his thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles that make your thighs tremble. you ride him faster now, your ass slapping lightly against his thigh with each movement. his hoodie bunches up under your grip, the fabric soft against your skin as you lean forward, pressing your chest to his. niki adds a third finger, stretching you further, and you cry out, your walls clenching around him. “shit, niki - right there,” you beg, your voice breaking. he obliges, pumping his hand in rhythm with your movements, his thumb pressing harder on your swollen clit.
before you even have a chance to figure out what is going on, liquid comes squirting out onto his fingers. your orgasm rips through you violently, your pussy convulsing around his hand as a gush of clear fluid squirts out.
the bottom of his hoodie and his lap between you are completely soaked, the hot release soaking his fingers and wrist, the scent of your arousal filling the air. “look what you did,” he teases, glancing down at the drenched hoodie, the fabric heavy and clinging from your release.
you smile lazily, still catching your breath, and kiss him deeply. his tongue slides into your mouth, tasting of mint. “worth it,” you murmur against his lips. he withdraws his fingers slowly, slick with your squirt, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, his eyes locked on yours. the sight makes your core twitch again, already hungry for more.
this was based on an ask but i accidentally deleted it sigh
