𝓦𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍⠀ ✶ ⠀ sim jaeyun is the kind of person who loves sweet, soft moments. but on this particular night, he’s more than happy to hand over the reins.
𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit sexual content ⋮ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 ✿ bondage ˒ unprotected p in v ˒ rough sex ˒ riding ˒ jake has a mommy kink ˒ breeding kink ˒ dirty talk ˒ praise kink ˒ size kink ˒ creampie ˒
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ꉂ (˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
🪷 。 𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 thinking of just sticking to drabbles for now because i genuinely have too many tasks on my plate right now eurgh ᴖ̈ will definitely try getting those event requests done asap tho ㅤꨄ︎
Ever since you and Jake had begun dating, it didn't really take long for you to figure out that Jake's the kind of person who wanted you to feel the love in every moment.
Slow mornings where Jake would surprise you with breakfast in bed; eggs, bacon, sausages, and pineapple juice, your absolute favorite. When you'd come home from work feeling exhausted, he'd wipe off your makeup carefully and do your skincare routine for you. When you were experiencing painful period cramps, he'd be by your side, bringing you tea, heating pads, and doing your share of the chores.
So much so, he was the kind who loved slow and romantic sex.
Tonight was different though.
You'd pinned his wrists above his head before he even realized what was happening, looping the silk tie around the bars of the headboard with a practiced knot. Jake didn't fight it. His lips parted, his chest heaving, and when you sat back on his thighs and admired your work, he swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. He looked up at you with those wide, desperate brown eyes, pupils blown so dark the iris was nearly gone, and he whispered, "Yes. Please. Whatever you want."
You were wearing nothing but Jake's oversized band t-shirt, the faded cotton hanging off one shoulder, the hem riding up your thighs as you straddled him. You hadn't even taken your panties off yet, just rolled them to the side when you sank down onto him, and the fabric of the shirt brushed against his bare stomach every time you moved forward. His cock was buried to the hilt inside you, thick and impossibly hard, and you could feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him stretching you open in the most obscene way.
"Mmgh—faster, baby. Ride me until I—ah—forget your name," he moaned out, his eyes rolling back, his cock twitching deep inside you.
You rolled your hips slowly at first, deliberately, dragging your wet heat along his length and feeling him pulse against your walls. The sound was filthy, wet, slick, and unmistakable, your arousal coating him so thoroughly that every movement made a shameless, squelching noise that echoed through the bedroom. His hips jerked up involuntarily, seeking more friction, and you pressed his hips down with one firm hand on his lower stomach.
"Ah-ah. Stay still. I said I'm setting the pace tonight, remember?" you scolded gently, and Jake whimpered, actual tears forming at the corners of his eyes from the effort of holding himself back. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple and soaked into the pillow beneath his head. His bangs were already damp, sticking to his forehead in messy clusters.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be good, I'll be so good for you," he panted, his fingers flexing uselessly against the silk restraint, not pulling to escape but gripping onto it like a lifeline, anchoring himself because he didn't trust his own body not to buck up into you again.
"God—baby, you feel so warm, so tight—fuck, you're so—ah—hot," he whined out, his voice cracking on the last word.
You rewarded him by picking up the pace, lifting your hips and dropping them back down in a rhythm that made the mattress creak beneath you. The sound of your skin slapping against his grew louder, sharper, punctuating every thrust like a filthy metronome. His thighs flexed beneath you, the muscles in his stomach tensing and releasing every time your body met his, and you could see the glistening sheen of sweat beginning to form across his chest and collarbones.
You leaned down to give him a passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth, swallowing the desperate little sounds he was making. He kissed you back like a drowning man, sloppy and hungry, his tongue sliding against yours with no coordination whatsoever, just pure need. When you pulled away, a string of saliva connected your lips for a brief second before breaking, and Jake chased your mouth, craning his neck up for more.
"Harder, mama, that's it right there. Faster—please," he groaned out, his head falling back into the pillows and his teeth biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to leave an indent. His chest was heaving, ribs visible with every ragged breath, and the sound of your bodies colliding was getting wetter, louder, nastier with every passing second.
"Shh, be a good boy for me and just feel it, okay? You're doing so well, baby," you cooed, bouncing on his cock faster, your hands trailing up the shirt you were wearing so he could see them, fingers walking up your own stomach slowly, pushing the fabric higher, giving him a glimpse of skin beneath.
Jake's eyes locked onto the hem of the shirt like it was the most mesmerizing thing he'd ever seen. He watched the fabric ride up with every bounce, flashing glimpses of your bare stomach, the underside of your breasts, the place where your body swallowed him over and over. His mouth fell open, a broken sound escaping his throat that was somewhere between a moan and a sob.
"Fuck, you're wearing my shirt—mmgh—you're riding me in my fucking shirt," he rasped, his voice wrecked and thin. "You look so—god—you look so filthy wearing my shirt while you fuck me, I can see it riding up every time you—ah—every time you drop down on me, I can see you taking me in, I can—see everything—"
"You like that?" you breathed, rolling your hips in a deep, grinding circle that pressed him against your cervix and made your own vision pixelate for a second. "You like watching me ride your big cock in your shirt, baby? Makes you even harder, doesn't it? I can feel it. I can feel you getting thicker inside me."
"Yes, mama—yes," he cried out, tears now spilling freely down the sides of his face, his hips trembling with the effort of not thrusting up into you. "I love watching you—watching you ride me, watching you fuck me hard. You look so—fucking gorgeous, your body moving like that, my shirt on you—fuck, it—makes me so horny, I'm so horny for you, I can't, I can't—"
"Can't what?" you demanded, breathless now too, because his dick was hitting that spot inside you over and over and your thighs were burning but you didn't dare stop. "Use your words, Jake. Tell me what you need, what you want, anything."
"I need to come—I need to come so bad, please let me come. I'll be so good—fuck—I've been so good, please," he babbled, his wrists pulling at the tie so hard the headboard creaked, not trying to escape, just needing something to hold onto while his entire body vibrated with tension. Sweat was beading at his hairline now, rolling down his jaw, pooling in the hollow of his throat. His abs were clenched so tight they were shaking.
"You wanna come inside me, baby?" you asked, and you watched his face absolutely crumble with want.
"Please, please, please—let me come inside, I wanna fill you up so bad, wanna give you everything, please, mama—fuck—please," he begged, and his voice was so high and thin and desperate that it sent a bolt of heat straight through your core. You clenched around him involuntarily and he sobbed.
"Ah, Jake, you feel so good—so big, you're so deep—mmgh," you managed, your own rhythm faltering for just a second as the pleasure crested. The slapping of skin on skin was relentless now, a wet, obscene percussion that mixed with the creak of the bed frame and Jake's continuous stream of whimpered praise.
"So big for me—stretching me out so good, you're so fucking big—baby—I can barely take it," you gasped, and he shuddered beneath you like the words were physically stroking his cock.
"You take it so well—you take me so well, mama. You were made for me, made for my cock," he whimpered back, because even tied up and desperate and barely coherent, Jake couldn't stop telling you how good you were, how perfect, how everything about you drove him insane.
"I'm gonna come, mama—" His voice pitched up into a register you'd never heard from him before, a reedy, fractured sound.
"That's it, baby, that's it," you said, speeding up your pace, slamming your hips down with a force that made the headboard slam against the wall, the sound of your bodies meeting now sharp and loud and absolutely filthy. "Fuck a baby into me. Come inside me until I'll be able to feel you for days."
Jake let out a sound that was barely human, a wrecked, guttural moan that broke into a whine at the end. "Yes—hell yes—I'll give you a baby, I'll fill you up so deep, you'll be dripping me for days, I'll put a baby in you, I'll, fuck, fuck—"
"Give it to me, give me everything," you commanded, and your own orgasm was right there, coiling tight at the base of your spine, your walls fluttering around him in warning.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, mama, I'm—ah—fuck—" Jake's entire body arched off the bed, his back bowing as he buried himself as deep as he could go, and you felt the first hot pulse of him spilling inside you, thick, copious, endless. He was moaning your name, then just sounds, then nothing but shuddering breaths as his cock kicked and throbbed, pumping rope after rope of cum deep into your pussy. His hips stuttered up into you involuntarily, grinding himself even deeper, and you could feel the warmth of him flooding your insides, so much of it, the excess already beginning to leak out around where you were joined and drip down onto his thighs.
That was what pushed you over. You came with a cry, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses, milking him through it, pulling every last drop deeper inside. Your vision went white at the edges, your hands bracing against his chest, and you could feel your own body drawing him in, greedy and needy, making sure none of it would go to waste. The pleasure rolled through you in waves, your thighs trembling on either side of his hips, your breath coming in sharp, staccato gasps.
You both stayed there for a long moment, trembling, catching your breath. Jake's cock was still twitching inside you, oversensitive now, and you could feel the mess he'd made, the obscene squelch of his come shifting inside you every time you so much as breathed. His chest was heaving, his skin flushed from his cheeks down to his nipples, sweat glistening across his whole body, his hair a dark, damp mess against the pillow. His fingers were still wrapped around the silk tie, knuckles white, and when you finally, slowly, leaned forward, he let out a shaky exhale against your lips.
You kissed him. Slow this time, soft, your lips moving gently over his while his cock was still buried inside you, still half-hard, keeping everything exactly where it belonged. He kissed you back with a tenderness that made your chest hurt, his tongue tracing your lower lip, his breath warm and unsteady. You reached up and undid the tie with one hand, freeing his wrists, and his arms immediately wrapped around you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other pressing flat against the small of your back, holding you against him like he was afraid you'd disappear.
His fingers stroked through your hair. You could feel his heartbeat hammering against your own chest, gradually slowing. The mess between your thighs was warm and sticky and neither of you moved to do anything about it.
Jake broke the kiss first, just enough to speak, his lips still brushing yours. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, ruined from all the sounds you'd pulled out of him tonight.
"We should do this again more often."
You laughed, breathless, pressing your forehead to his, and you felt him smile against your skin.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @simsimluver @maishee @grdientlips @yejisair777 @kristynaaah @heesroses @vmpiricou @seungiesdoll @malibluess @stwryun @hooniluhv @rikisn @hazeheart12 @exclipszz @melancholatte @bluepains @gojopolo @jasmineeeee1009 @ming1luvr @ni-k1ttie @enzsstuff01 @willothewispbf @emvss @simjaeyunslut @luvlyjaemin @kikizzz0 @ilovhoonie @prettygirlthings-world @jaesim @luv4dani @perristar @bkatarina @fialtorelle @slutforaz @adoreade @la-choiblog | send an ask if you’d like to be added ˙𐃷˙
🎹 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ഒ touch tank by quinnie
✷ NOTE : thank you all so, so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this little world for a while ♡ all of this is purely a work of fiction & doesn’t reflect reality at all . . likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply cherished and very, very appreciated on here !
heeseung pulls you flush against his chest, his strong hands gripping your hips as he grinds slowly into you. his lips brush your ear, hot breath sending shivers down your spine. in a deep, husky voice filled with lust and quiet defiance, he whispers,
“sign the petition, drop my hashtags on x, and boycott hybe… like my good fucking girl”
━IN WHICH you and your husband have a sweet moment after putting your kid to bed.
➺ wc : 941
➺ pairing : husband!Jake x fem!reader
➺ genre : fluff, suggestive, domestic (kinda)
➺ content : kissing, skinship
note : HIIIIIII, these days I've been stuck with a Seonghyeon one shot that I wanted to post (a James one is on the way too) and I procrastinated it by writing a Jake one :') This is my first time writing this genre so I hope you will like it !!! ENJOYYYY !!
The house had gone quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that felt empty, but the kind that felt earned. The kind that came after a bath and a story and three separate requests for water and one final, plaintive "just one more hug" from a small voice that you'd both pretended to be immune to even as you melted in tandem.
You were leaning against the kitchen counter, nursing a glass of water, when Jake walked in. He'd done the final check, cracked the door just enough for the nightlight to glow, tucked the stuffed dinosaur back under a small arm, pressed a kiss to a forehead that was already half in dreamland.
He looked wrecked in the best way. His hair was mussed from where small hands had grabbed at it during the goodnight struggle. His shirt was wrinkled, untucked, the top two buttons undone. There was a smudge of something on his collar. Toothpaste, probably, from the chaotic brushing session that had somehow involved a lecture on why triceratops don't eat socks.
He didn't say anything at first. He crossed the kitchen in five slow strides, bracketed you against the counter with his hands on either side of your hips, and dropped his forehead to your shoulder.
You laughed softly, setting your glass down. "That bad?"
"Good," he mumbled against the fabric of your shirt. "So good. I'm so tired."
You ran your fingers through his hair, working through the tiny tangles. He made a sound low in his throat, something between a sigh and a hum, and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer.
"We should clean up the kitchen," you said, without conviction.
"In a minute."
"There are Cheerios on the floor."
"I'll build a shrine."
You snorted. He lifted his head, and there it was, that look. The one that made the last four hours of toddler chaos dissolve into background noise. His eyes were dark, soft, searching your face like he hadn't seen you in days instead of just the twenty minutes he'd spent on bedtime duty.
"You're beautiful," he said, simply. Like a fact. Like the weather.
"You're delusional."
"Probably." He leaned in, and his lips found the corner of your mouth. Not quite a kiss. A promise of one. "Still true."
His mouth traced a slow path to your jaw, then down your neck, and your head fell back against the cabinet behind you. His hands slid from your waist to your lower back, pressing you into him, and suddenly the kitchen felt very small and very warm.
"We really should—" you started.
"Shh." He found that spot just below your ear, the one he'd discovered years ago and never forgot. "The Cheerios will wait."
You grabbed fistfuls of his wrinkled shirt and pulled him closer, and this time when his lips found yours, it wasn't a promise. It was a landing.
The kiss started slow, the kind of slow that came from knowing someone completely. From knowing that there was nowhere to rush to, that the night was long and the house was yours and the only audience was the half-moon through the window and the fish in the tank by the wall. His mouth moved against yours with a familiarity that wasn't lazy but sure.
Your back hit the counter edge and he shifted, one hand coming up to cradle your jaw, the other splayed warm across your hip. He tasted like the peppermint tea he'd had during story time, and underneath that, like something that was just him.
He pulled back just far enough to breathe, his forehead against yours. "Hi."
"Hi."
"I love you."
"You're very sweet when you're exhausted."
"I'm very sweet all the time." He kissed the tip of your nose. "I'm a catch."
"You're something."
He grinned, and then he was kissing you again, deeper this time, and your fingers found their way into his hair properly, tugging just enough to make him groan against your mouth. The sound vibrated through you, settled somewhere low in your stomach, and you pulled him closer because closer was the only thing that made sense.
One of his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, finding bare skin at your hip, and you gasped at the contact, warm, slightly rough from the dishes he'd done earlier. He smiled into the kiss, smug and satisfied, and you would have called him out on it if you weren't so busy trying to memorize the way his tongue moved against yours.
The fridge hummed. The fish swam lazy circles. Somewhere upstairs, your child dreamed of dinosaurs and bedtime snacks.
Jake walked you backward, just a step, just enough to turn you so your back was against the wall instead of the counter. His body pressed against yours, solid and warm and familiar, and his mouth never stopped moving, jaw to throat to collarbone, mapping territory he'd charted a thousand times and still somehow found new.
"Jake," you breathed, and it came out like a question even though you didn't know what you were asking.
He looked up at you, his lips still against your skin, his eyes dark and bright at once. "Yeah?"
You didn't have words. You just pulled him back up, kissed him hard, and he laughed into your mouth, a soft, private sound that made your chest ache with how much you loved him.
The kettle sat cold on the stove. The Cheerios remained on the floor. The night stretched ahead, quiet and dark and entirely yours.
He pulled back just long enough to whisper against your lips, "Bed?"
"In a minute," you echoed, and kissed him again before he could argue.
HE CAN DO A SOLO AND STILL IN THE GROUP WTF IS WRONG WITH THESE COMPANY!!!!
‼️‼️‼️EVERYONE REPOST!!!‼️‼️‼️
From engenes,
Sometime ago Belift posted the official notice about heeseung leaving ENHYPEN on X, Heeseung also wrote a post on weverse showing his gratitude towards engenes and saying a final goodbye. From his post we understand he want to release his own solo songs. But that could be done even by being in the group, so many kpop groups have done this, millions of them. We feel Belift forced heeseung to leave the group as he wanted to produce his own music. They don't want any member having a solo career while being in the group for their own selfish reasons. Heeseung would never leave the group on his own seeing how much he loves engenes, he wrote songs like blossom, highway 1009 for engenes, these prove his love for us. Recently he has been seen looking very upset and depressed. I'm sure it's because of Belift. I request the engenes who live in Korea to find out the reality and once we are sure Belift did this then let's start sending protest trucks, boycotting belift and whatever we can to bring Heeseung back. If its found that is heeseung's own decision then let's support him!! What we have been told is just a cover story but we need to know the truth!! We deserve to know the truth!! Pls engenes let's support each other and contribute in any way we can to stop Belift and bring Heeseung back!!
HE CAN DO A SOLO AND STILL IN THE GROUP WTF IS WRONG WITH THESE COMPANY!!!!
‼️‼️‼️EVERYONE REPOST!!!‼️‼️‼️
From engenes,
Sometime ago Belift posted the official notice about heeseung leaving ENHYPEN on X, Heeseung also wrote a post on weverse showing his gratitude towards engenes and saying a final goodbye. From his post we understand he want to release his own solo songs. But that could be done even by being in the group, so many kpop groups have done this, millions of them. We feel Belift forced heeseung to leave the group as he wanted to produce his own music. They don't want any member having a solo career while being in the group for their own selfish reasons. Heeseung would never leave the group on his own seeing how much he loves engenes, he wrote songs like blossom, highway 1009 for engenes, these prove his love for us. Recently he has been seen looking very upset and depressed. I'm sure it's because of Belift. I request the engenes who live in Korea to find out the reality and once we are sure Belift did this then let's start sending protest trucks, boycotting belift and whatever we can to bring Heeseung back. If its found that is heeseung's own decision then let's support him!! What we have been told is just a cover story but we need to know the truth!! We deserve to know the truth!! Pls engenes let's support each other and contribute in any way we can to stop Belift and bring Heeseung back!!
To:
ENGENES & ENHYPEN
#bring_heeseung_back #enhypen_is_7 #justice_for_heeseung
cw: fingering, p in v, kissing, pet names (baby, bbg, princess, cumming
a/n: sorry for being gone for so long but im backkk
soft!dom jake who lays you down on the bed like you’re glass, his fingers lacing with yours.
soft!dom jake who prioritizes your pleasure over his. even though his dick throbs just watching you squirm underneath him, he’s patient as ever.
soft!dom jake who gently runs his fingers through your already soaked folds, eliciting soft whimpers from you.
soft!dom jake who pushes you right to the edge with his thumb on your clit, watching you writhe in pleasure.
soft!dom jake who makes you wait, just so he can watch you fall apart on his cock.
soft!dom jake who kisses literally every inch of your body—the insides of your thighs, your hips, your stomach, etc. each mark of his is open mouthed, hot and wet.
soft!dom jake who slowly pushes into your entrance, making sure you feel every twitch and pulse of his dick.
soft!dom jake who regularly checks up on you, making sure you’re not in any pain or uncomfortable, “I need words sweet girl, is this okay?”
soft!dom jake who talks you through it, and makes sure you know just how much he loves you. “You’re doing so well for me princess, keep making those pretty sounds.”
soft!dom jake who doesn’t tease you or deny your orgasm, but wants to build it up as much as possible so you can fully feel the release.
soft!dom jake who pounds into you firmly but carefully, letting his shaft drag along your gummy walls.
soft!dom jake who also talks you through your orgasm, “That’s it baby girl, let go for me. Let it all out.”
soft!dom jake who doesn’t stop thrusting into until you’ve fully finished riding through your release.
soft!dom jake who pulls you onto his sweat-slicked chest after you’ve both orgasmed, running his fingers through your messy hair.
soft!dom jake who never stops telling you how beautiful you are and how much of a good girl you are for him.
hii everyone first of all i wanna apologize for being gone for so long! college is kicking my butt atm. ALSO- i want to make it clear that i am NOT a solo stan!! im just super into writing abt jake right now!! i will post content on other members soon, im just focusing on posting for my ult since i just started this blog not too long ago.
cw: fingering, p in v, kissing, pet names (baby, bbg, princess,) cumming
a/n: sorry for being gone for so long but im backkk
soft!dom jake who lays you down on the bed like you’re glass, his fingers lacing with yours.
soft!dom jake who prioritizes your pleasure over his. even though his dick throbs just watching you squirm underneath him, he’s patient as ever.
soft!dom jake who gently runs his fingers through your already soaked folds, eliciting soft whimpers from you.
soft!dom jake who pushes you right to the edge with his thumb on your clit, watching you writhe in pleasure.
soft!dom jake who makes you wait, just so he can watch you fall apart on his cock.
soft!dom jake who kisses literally every inch of your body—the insides of your thighs, your hips, your stomach, etc. each mark of his is open mouthed, hot and wet.
soft!dom jake who slowly pushes into your entrance, making sure you feel every twitch and pulse of his dick.
soft!dom jake who regularly checks up on you, making sure you’re not in any pain or uncomfortable, “I need words sweet girl, is this okay?”
soft!dom jake who talks you through it, and makes sure you know just how much he loves you. “You’re doing so well for me princess, keep making those pretty sounds.”
soft!dom jake who doesn’t tease you or deny your orgasm, but wants to build it up as much as possible so you can fully feel the release.
soft!dom jake who pounds into you firmly but carefully, letting his shaft drag along your gummy walls.
soft!dom jake who also talks you through your orgasm, “That’s it baby girl, let go for me. Let it all out.”
soft!dom jake who doesn’t stop thrusting into you until you’ve fully finished riding through your release.
soft!dom jake who pulls you onto his sweat-slicked chest after you’ve both orgasmed, running his fingers through your messy hair.
soft!dom jake who never stops telling you how beautiful you are and how much of a good girl you are for him.
ʚɞ summary - jake’s been your best friend for years—of course you always knew he was attractive, but you never imagined he’d be a virgin. but now that he’s admitted it, you can’t resist showing him exactly what he’s been missing out on...
ʚɞ tags - 18+ MDNI, f!reader, jake & reader are best friends, experienced!reader, inexperienced/virgin!jake, sub!jake, pussydrunk!jake, first time, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (f. receiving)
ʚɞ w.c - 5.5k
The blue shell icon flashed on your screen a second before the explosion of pixelated blue flames consumed your kart, sending you spinning off the rainbow road into the starry void. Jake whooped triumphantly.
“No! Ugh, you asshole!” you groaned, slumping back against the plush fabric of the coach as your Bowser respawned in last place. “You saved that thing the whole race just for me?”
“Strategic targeting, baby,” Jake crowed, his thumbs working furiously on his controller. He was leaning so far forward his elbows were on his knees, his whole body tense with competitive glee. “Gotta take out the biggest threat.”
“The biggest threat is my fist right now,” you threatened, desperately trying to catch up. But it was useless. He crossed the finish line in first, throwing his hands up in victory before tossing his controller onto the coffee table littered with empty soda cans and chip bags.
“Pay up, pay up,” he sang, wiggling his fingers at you. The bet was that the loser would pay and order takeout.
“Fine, fine,” you grumbled, grabbing your phone. “But I’m getting extra spicy wings just to watch you suffer.”
“I can handle it,” he said, but the twitch in his smile said otherwise. You both knew his tolerance for heat was tragically low.
You scrolled through the app, the only sounds the hum of the fridge and the faint city noise from the open window. You and Jake’d been living together for two years now, ever since college ended and real life began. It worked because Jake was, quite simply, your person. He was the human equivalent of your favorite hoodie: familiar, comforting, and always there for you.
“So,” he said after a minute, stretching his arms over his head. The movement pulled his thin t-shirt tight across his chest. You didn’t stare. Much. “Random question. I haven’t seen Mark skulking around in, like, a month. Did he finally get abducted by aliens? Please say yes.”
You snorted, not looking up from your phone. “Nah, unfortunately not. Just ended things.”
“Wait, for real?” Jake’s voice was a little too bright, a little too interested. You glanced over. He was trying to look casual, picking at a thread on the couch, but his posture was rigid.
“For real. It was just—like, a thing. You know.” You shrugged, finally placing the order for wings and fries. “It ran its course.”
“Thank god,” Jake breathed out, the words a rush of genuine relief. He flopped back against the cushions, running a hand through his messy hair. “Do you have any idea how many nights you guys kept me up? I had to wear fucking noise-canceling headphones. And, like, turn my fan on high.”
A slow, wicked grin spread across your face. You put your phone down and turned to face him fully, tucking one leg under you. “Oh, poor baby. All traumatized by the sounds of your best friend getting laid. Why didn’t you ever bring anyone home, huh? Get your revenge. Level the playing field.”
At that, Jake’s easygoing expression froze, then melted into something shifty. He looked away, focusing intently on a crack in the plaster of the wall. “I don’t know. Just… didn’t.”
“Come on, Jakey,” you pressed, leaning forward. “You’ve been on dates. Plenty of them. That girl from the marketing firm was all over you for weeks. You never brought her back here?”
“No,” he mumbled.
“The barista with the sleeve tattoos?”
“Nope.”
“The girl from your gym? The one with the fat a—”
“No,” he said, more frustrated this time. He finally met your eyes, and the vulnerability there made you blanch a little. His cheeks were flushed a deep, warm pink. “I… didn’t bring any of them back because—” He dragged both hands down his face, groaning into his palms. “I’ve never… done that. Okay?”
You blinked. “Done what? Brought someone home?”
He peeked at you through his fingers, his eyes wide and mortified. “No. I mean, yes, but—that. You know.” He cleared his throat. “Had sex”
Oh.
It wasn’t that shocking, not really, but for Jake—loud, confident, hot Jake, who moved through the world with an easy charm—it was definitely unexpected for you. He’d always talked a big game, and you’d just assumed…
“You’re a virgin,” you said.
He dropped his hands. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Congrats, you’re the first person to know. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I’m not,” you said softly, and you meant it.“I just… I never would’ve guessed. You always seemed so…”
“So what? Like I knew what I was doing?” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “I’m good at the talking part. You know, the flirting. But then when it gets to the… the main event… I get in my head. I panic. I make an excuse and bail.” He hung his head. “It’s pathetic.”
“It’s not pathetic,” you said, and you meant that too. You shifted closer on the couch, the old leather sighing beneath you. “It’s just—you’re careful, right? That’s not a bad thing.”
“Feels pretty damn bad,” he muttered, picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants. “Especially when I’m lying in my room listening to…”
A dangerous, curious heat began to simmer inside of you. “Listening to what, exactly?”
He shot you a look. “Don’t make me say it.”
“I’m not. I’m just asking.” You kept your voice level, calm. “What did you hear?”
He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. His gaze was fixed on the coffee table, but his attention was entirely on you. You could feel it, a tangible pull in the space between your bodies. “Everything. The headboard. The—the sounds you made. His… ugh.” He rubbed his face again, the flush spreading down his neck. “It was fucking torture.”
“Why?” you asked.
“Because!” he burst out, finally looking at you, his eyes dark and frustrated. “Because I’d be lying there, and I’d be thinking—is she—you know. Is she enjoying it? Or is he just—just fucking her and that’s it? And I wanted to know. I needed to know. But I couldn’t ask, could I?”
Your heart was beating a little faster now, at his confession. You tucked your other leg under you, facing him completely now, knees almost touching his.
“You could’ve asked,” you corrected quietly.
“Yeah, right. ‘Hey, Y/N, was the sex any good? Did you come?’ Real smooth.”
“I would’ve told you,” you said, and it was the truth. There were very few barriers between you two. This had just never been one of the doors you’d opened. Until now, of course. “And for the record, no. Not really.”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“Mark. He wasn’t, um. It wasn’t great. He was fine, I guess. But it was just… physical. A release. He wasn’t interested in what I liked. He just wanted to get his and leave.”
Jake stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. The frustration in his eyes was morphing into something else rapidly. “So,” he licked his lips. “What… uh, what do you like?”
The question was barely a whisper, and the heat in your belly coiled tighter, spreading lower. You let out a slow breath.
“It depends on the mood,” you started, your own voice dropping to match his intimate tone of voice. “Sometimes I like it fast and hard. When you just need it, y’know? When you’re so wound up that all you can think about is being filled, being fucked until you can’t see straight.”
A sharp inhale from Jake. You saw his hands fist in the fabric of his sweatpants over his thighs.
“But most of the time,” you continued, holding his gaze, “I like it slow. Really slow. I like when a guy takes his time. When he kisses every inch of me first.” You saw his lips part, his breathing growing visibly quicker. “I like when he teases. When he touches me everywhere but where I really want it, until I’m begging for it. I like a guy who pays attention. Who listens to the way my breathing hitches, who watches how my body reacts, and follows that.”
“Follows that—how?” Jake’s voice was rough, strained.
“If I arch my back when he touches my hip, he stays there. He explores that. If I gasp when he bites my neck, he does it again, harder. If I spread my legs wider, he takes it as an invitation to taste me.”
Jake made a choked sound. His eyes were wide, glassy with a kind of rapturous shock. You could see the effect your words were having on him, the hard line of his erection now unmistakable against the soft grey fabric of his sweats. He didn’t try to hide it. He was past that.
“Taste… you?” he rasped.
“Yeah, Jake. Eat me out. Go down on me. That’s—that’s usually what does it for me. More than anything else.” You leaned forward an inch, your voice changing to a conspiratorial murmur. “A guy who knows how to use his tongue. Who isn’t in a rush. Who licks and sucks and fucks me with his tongue until I’m shaking, until I come so hard I see stars, and my thighs are shaking around his head.”
“Oh—wow, fuck,” he breathed. He was rigid, every muscle in his body taut. A fine tremor ran through his hands. “You—you’d let someone do that?”
“I’d beg someone to do that,” you corrected, a slow smile playing on your lips. “If they were good at it. If they were patient. If they enjoyed it. There’s nothing hotter than a guy who gets off on getting you off. Who gets hard just from hearing you moan, from feeling you come all over his face.”
His cock jumped at that, a visible twitch that he gasped at. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if trying to regain control. When he opened them, the look in them was pure, unadulterated hunger. “Tell me more,” he whispered. “What—what about after?”
“After I come like that?” you mused, feeling a slick heat building between your own thighs. This was the most turned on you’d been in months, just from talking. From watching him fall apart from words alone. “I’m usually really sensitive. So a good guy would be gentle. He’d kiss his way back up my body, let me taste myself on his lips. And then… when I’m ready again, when I’m pulling him closer… that’s when he fucks me.”
“How?” The word was punched out of him.
“However I want. On my back, so I can watch his face. On my hands and knees, so he can go deeper. Sometimes with my legs over his shoulders, so he can hit that spot inside me that makes me scream.” The whispered words felt filthy in the dim light of the living room. “And he’d talk to me. He’d tell me how good I feel, how tight I am, how he’s wanted this for so long. He’d call me beautiful. He’d tell me to come for him again. And I would. I always do when it’s like that.”
Jake was panting softly. A sheen of sweat glistened at his temples. He looked utterly wrecked, completely consumed by the images you were painting for him.
“Have you—has anyone ever… done all that for you?” he asked, his voice cracking.
You shook your head slowly, your cheeks coloring. “No. Not all of it,” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not the way I just described it, at least. That’s just the fantasy.”
His fantasy, now, too. You could see it in his dilated pupils, in the way he licked his lips, in the white-knuckled grip he had on his own knees.
The doorbell rang, the harsh electronic buzz slicing through the haze in the air.
You both jolted. Jake flinched, blinking rapidly.
“That’s—oh, shit, that’s the wings,” you said, your own voice unsteady.
“Right.” He didn’t move.
“I should… get that.”
“Yeah.”
You stood up, your legs feeling a little weak, then walked to the door, hyper-aware of his eyes on your back, tracking your every movement. You paid the delivery guy, took the bags, closed the door, your mind far. When you turned around, Jake was still on the couch, but he’d leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head bowed. The prominent bulge in his sweatpants was impossible to ignore.
You carried the bags to the coffee table and set them down. You didn’t sit back down. Instead, you stood in front of him, looking down at his bowed head.
“Jake.”
He looked up. His expression was cloudy. “Yeah?”
“Do you… want to try something?”
He didn’t ask what. He just nodded, a quick, jerky motion.
“Okay,” you breathed. “Just—just follow my lead. And tell me to stop anytime. Promise?”
“I promise,” he said instantly, his gaze locked on yours.
You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “Uh. Okay. So… we should maybe—not do this on the couch? It’s, uh, kind of sticky.”
Jake blinked, the intense focus in his eyes fracturing into a look of sheer, comical panic. “Right. Yeah. Sticky. Bad. Where…?”
“My room?” you offered, the statement tilting up into a question. It felt embarrassingly juvenile, like asking the boy you liked to slow dance at your middle school homecoming dance.
He nodded, a frantic bob of his head. “Yeah. Yeah, your room. Good plan.” He stood up, movements uncoordinated, then adjusted himself subtly, a wince crossing his features as the fabric of his sweats brushed against his obvious hardness. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.
You led the way, the short hallway to your bedroom feeling like a marathon. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat of what are you doing what are you doing what are you doing. But beneath the nervous chorus was a throbbing, insistent heat, pooling in your core.
You pushed your door open. Your room was neat, the bed made, soft lamplight casting a warm glow. It felt suddenly, intensely personal.
Jake hovered in the doorway, his shoulders nearly touching the frame. He looked massive and completely out of place, like a huge lost puppy who’d wandered into a china shop. “So,” he said, his voice too loud.
“So,” you echoed, turning to face him.
Another beat of awkward silence.
“This is weird, right?” he blurted out, running a hand through his hair. “It’s weird. We’re best friends. I just told you I’ve never done this, and now we’re in your bedroom. This is, like, a prime opportunity for fucking everything up forever.”
His honesty was disarming, but somehow, it made you feel a little better. You took a step toward him. “It’s only weird if we make it weird, Jake. And we can stop. Any time. Remember?”
“Yeah, I know,” he breathed. His eyes searched yours. “I don’t want to stop. I’m just… scared I’m gonna be bad at it, I guess. And then you’ll—I don’t know. Laugh. Or pity me.”
You reached out, your fingers brushing against his clenched fist. He flinched, then his hand opened, allowing you to weave your fingers through his. His skin was hot, his palm slightly damp. “I’m not going to laugh. And the only way you could be ‘bad’ is if you didn’t listen. And you’re a really good listener, Jakey.”
His shoulders relaxed a fraction at the nickname. He looked down at your joined hands, then back up at you. “Tell me what to do,” he whispered.
“Kiss me first.”
It was a simple instruction, but his breath hitched as if you’d asked for something monumental. He nodded slowly, then brought his other hand up, his touch surprisingly tentative as he cupped your jaw. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache.
Then he leaned in.
The first kiss was chaste, closed-mouthed, a gentle press of his soft lips against yours. It was sweet. Careful. It lasted only a second before he pulled back, eyes wide, checking in.
“Okay?” he rasped.
“More than okay,” you murmured. “Again.”
This time, you met him halfway. The second kiss was less hesitant. His lips parted slightly, and you took the invitation, sweeping your tongue along the seam of his mouth. He gasped, a soft, surprised sound, and then he was kissing you back, his inexperience giving way to instinctual enthusiasm. His lips were eager, a little clumsy, but it felt passionate—something you hadn’t felt with Mark in months.
One of his hands slid from your jaw into your hair, his fingers tangling gently at the roots. The other settled on your waist, his grip firming, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush. You could feel the line of his erection pressing hard against you, and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, arching into him. The sound seemed to electrify him; his kisses grew deeper, more confident. He was a quick learner, you had to admit, mimicking the rhythm you set, then adding his own—little nips at your bottom lip, soft sucks on your tongue.
When you finally broke apart for air, you were both breathing heavily. His lips were swollen, his eyes glazed. “Holy shit,” he panted. “That’s… fuck, Y/N, holy shit.”
You grinned, your own body trembling with adrenaline. “Not so bad, right?”
“Are you kidding me?” He shook his head, a dazed laugh escaping him. “I feel like my brain just short-circuited. What next?”
You took a step back, toward the bed, pulling him with you by the hand. “Clothes are kind of in the way.”
His eyes darkened. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” He looked down at himself, then at you. “Can I…?”
“Please.”
His hands, which had been so confident a moment before, fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt. He pulled it over his head in one swift, nervous motion and tossed it aside. Your breath caught.
You’d seen Jake shirtless before—at the beach, after workouts—but this was different. This was in your bedroom, with intent. The lamplight played over the smooth planes of his chest, the defined cut of his abs, the faint trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his sweatpants. He was beautiful. All lean muscle and golden skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Your turn,” he said, his voice thick.
You reached for the hem of your own shirt, but he stopped you, his hand covering yours. “Wait. Let me.”
You nodded, dropping your hands to your sides. He stepped closer, his gaze intense as he hooked his fingers under the fabric. He lifted it slowly, revealing your skin inch by inch. The cool air brushed your stomach, your ribs, and finally, as the shirt cleared your head, your breasts, restrained in a cotton bra.
He just stared for a moment, his mouth slightly open. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word full of reverence. “You’re so fucking pretty.” His hands came up, hovering over your tits. “Can I?”
“Yes, Jake. Touch me.”
His palms settled over your covered breasts, and he squeezed gently, experimentally, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric. A sharp gasp escaped you, and your nipples hardened instantly into tight peaks. The look of awe on his face was priceless.
“They’re so soft,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. He leaned down, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the swell of one breast above the cup of your bra. His tongue darted out, tasting your skin. “You smell so good.”
You reached behind you, unhooking your bra with practiced ease. The straps fell from your shoulders, and the garment joined his shirt on the floor.
Jake’s breath left him in a whoosh. His eyes drank you in, wide and dark. “Wow,” he whispered. He didn’t move for a long moment, just looked. Then, as if drawn by a magnet, his head dipped. He took one nipple into his mouth.
The sensation was maddening. His mouth was hot, wet, perfectly eager. He sucked, gently at first, then with more pressure when you moaned and your fingers fisted in his hair. He laved the stiff peak with his tongue, flicking and circling, before moving to give the other tit the same devoted attention. He was noisy, letting out little grunts and hums of pleasure against your skin, as if he were the one receiving the pleasure.
“Jake,” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fu—fuck, that feels so good.”
He pulled off with a wet pop, his lips glistening. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough. “What else feels good? Tell me, please. I want to make you feel good.”
“My jeans,” you managed. “Get them off.”
He dropped to his knees so fast it made you jump. His hands went to the button of your jeans, his fingers trembling slightly as he worked it open, then dragged the zipper down. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and panties and, looking up at you for permission, pulled them down your legs in one motion. You stepped out of them, kicking them aside, now completely naked before him.
He stayed on his knees, his gaze traveling up your body from your feet, over your calves, your thighs, finally settling between your legs. His expression was one of rapt fascination.
“You’re so wet,” he observed, his voice hushed and awed at your glistening arousal. “Is that… for me?”
“All for you,” you confirmed, your voice shaky.
A shudder ran through him. He leaned forward, his hands coming to rest on your hips, steadying you. He nuzzled the inside of your thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “You said… you liked this. You said a guy should take his time here.”
“I did,” you whispered, your legs trembling.
“Tell me how,” he begged, his lips brushing your inner thigh. “I don’t wanna fuck it up. Tell me what to do.”
You carded your fingers through his hair. “Use your tongue. Flat, at first. Just… lick. Up and down. Get used to the feel of me. Taste me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. With a groan that vibrated through your entire body, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue through your soaked folds.
The feeling was indescribable—hot, wet, and so eager. He was clumsy, covering too much area, but the enthusiasm was everything. He did it again, and again, a slow, licking exploration.
“Oh, god,” you moaned, your hips jerking slightly.
He pulled back, panting. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, Jake. It was perfect. Now… focus on my clit. That little bump at the top. Circle it with the tip of your tongue. Gently.”
He found it, his breath huffing against you. He circled it, just as you’d said, his movements growing more confident as he felt you tremble and heard your sharp intake of breath. “You like that,” he murmured, the words a hot puff against your flesh. “You’re getting even wetter. Fuck, you taste so good.”
He dove back in, licking and sucking, listening to every hitch in your breath, every murmured encouragement. He’d start to get too eager, his movements growing rushed, and you’d gently guide him. “Slower, baby. Just like that. Yeah. Right there, you’re doing so good for me.”
“Baby,” he repeated against you, the word muffled and reverent. “God, you feel so fucking good. I could do this forever. My jaw is gonna fall off and I won’t even care.”
You laughed, the sound turning into a moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth, applying perfect, steady pressure. “Don’t stop. Mm—hah—making me feel so good, Jake, don’t stop.”
He hummed in response, the vibration shooting white-hot sparks up your spine. His hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you in place as he feasted on you. He was lost in it, completely pussy-drunk as you’d thought he would be, his world narrowed to the taste of you and the sounds you were making. He was talking, a filthy stream of consciousness you could barely make out.
“So sweet—god, I’m never gonna forget this—you’re so fucking perfect—clenching on my tongue, are you gonna come? Please come for me, please, I—mm—wanna feel it—”
Your body arched off the bed, every muscle tightening as the pressure built deep in your core. Waves of heat surged through you, your pussy throbbing against Jake's mouth, slick and swollen from his relentless attention. Your fingers dug into his hair, pulling him closer, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the edge of release loomed.
“Jake, I’m gonna—I’m gonna come!”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue lashing your clit with relentless precision. His nose bumped firmly against the sensitive nub, grinding in time with each flick and swirl, sending jolts of electricity straight to your spine. The added pressure shattered your control.
Your orgasm crashed into you, your pussy clenching hard around nothing as you cried out, hips bucking wildly against his face. Juices flooded his mouth, coating his lips and chin while your thighs quivered, locking around his head in a vise grip. Pleasure ripped through you, pulsing in hot, endless spasms that left you shaking and breathless.
When the last tremor subsided, Jake gently eased you back, laying you on the bed before you could collapse. He crawled up your body, his face glistening with your arousal, his eyes wild and proud. “Did you… was that…?”
“That was incredible,” you breathed, reaching up to touch his wet chin. “You’re a natural.”
A brilliant, boyish grin split his face. Then he kissed you, deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You could feel him, hard and heavy against your thigh, straining against his sweatpants. “These need to go,” you said, tugging at the waistband.
He scrambled off the bed, practically tearing the sweatpants and his boxers off, then he stood before you, finally completely naked. He was thick, long, and perfectly erect, the tip already leaking with pre-cum, and he was breathing like he’d run a marathon, his entire body flushed pink with desire.
“I don’t—I don’t have a condom,” he said, panic creeping back into his eyes.
You leaned over, pulling open your nightstand drawer. You pulled out a strip of condoms. “I do.”
The relief on his face was palpable. “Thank fuck.” He took one from you, his hands shaking violently as he tried to tear the foil.
“Here,” you said softly, taking it from him. You tore it open and rolled the latex down his length, your touch firm and sure. He hissed, his eyes rolling back. “Fuck, your hands—”
You laid back, pulling him down with you. He settled between your legs, the head of his cock nudging against your still-sensitive entrance. He looked into your eyes, his expression suddenly serious and vulnerable. “Are you sure about this? I—” he frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you or mess it up.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him, cupping his face in your hands and drawing him closer until his forehead rested against yours. “Just breathe with me, Jake. Feel how wet I am for you? Yeah? It’s all ‘cause of you. C’mon, slide in slow, nice and easy—let your cock stretch me out.”
His dick twitched hard against your folds at your words, the thick shaft pulsing with anticipation, a bead of precum leaking from the tip and smearing along your slick skin.
He nodded, chewing his lip. Then, with a look of sheer determination, he pushed forward.
The stretch was exquisite. He was big, and you were still tight from your orgasm, but so wet for him. He sank into you inch by inch, his eyes locked on yours, his breath coming in ragged pants. When he was fully seated, buried to the hilt, he let out a broken groan that sounded like it was torn from the center of his soul.
“Oh my god,” he choked out, whining. “You’re… it’s so—tight. And hot. I can’t even—mmf—I can’t even think.”
“Move, Jake,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Just move. However you need to.”
He pulled back almost all the way, then pushed back in, a slow, tentative stroke. Then another. And another. His rhythm was unsteady, searching, but every thrust hit you in just the right way.
“You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, his voice a wreck. “Better than anything I ever imagined. Fuck, I’m really gonna lose my mind.” He picked up the pace, and the bed began to creak softly in time with his thrusts. “Tell me—tell me what you like. When I’m inside you.”
“Harder,” you gasped, clawing at his back. “Angle up a little—hn—yeah! Right there, Jake, right there—”
He obeyed instantly, adjusting his hips, driving into that sweet spot with every deep, penetrating thrust. A guttural groan ripped from his throat. “There? That’s the spot? Fuck, you’re gripping me… you’re gonna make me come—hah—so fast already…”
“Not yet,” you pleaded, though you were hurtling toward your own orgasm. “Keep going. Just like that.”
He was sweating, muscles straining in his neck and arms, his entire body trembling with the effort to hold back. He was talking non-stop, a beautiful, filthy mess.
“Wanted this for so long—dreamed about how you’d feel, Y/N, you’re so perfect, taking me so deep—love your tits, I love your mouth, I love your fucking perfect pussy—”
You gasped, your nails digging into his back as you rocked your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Fuck—keep going, don’t stop talking. Tell me how it feels.”
His eyes locked onto yours, wide and desperate, a whimper escaping his lips as he pounded harder. “Feels so, so good, Y/N—your pussy’s so tight around me—fuck, I’m close, need to come so bad—”
“You’re doing so well,” you moaned, your voice husky with the building pressure. “Fuck me harder, show me.”
He nodded frantically, his thrusts erratic now, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest. “Can’t hold it—’s too much, the way you squeeze my cock—please, Y/N—”
Your second orgasm tore through you, even more intense than the first. It started as a white-hot coil in your core, tightening unbearably with every slam of his hips against yours. Your walls fluttered wildly around his thick shaft, squeezing him in pulses that made your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. A sharp cry ripped from your throat as the pleasure exploded outward, making your thighs quake and your vision blur at the edges. Your pussy convulsed, gushing wetness that soaked his balls, every nerve ending firing in blissful overload. The sight and feel of you coming undone pushed him over the edge, his pleas turning into broken sobs. “Y/N—hngh, I’m gonna come—can I? Please—”
“Yeah—fuck—come for me,” you urged, your voice breathless.
He slammed into you one last time, shuddering violently as he emptied himself into the condom. His body went rigid, cock throbbing deep inside you with each spurt of hot cum, his hips jerking uncontrollably. Then he collapsed into you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his hot breath panting against your skin.
You held him, your own body humming with satisfaction, your hands stroking the sweaty planes of his back. Both of you were completely spent, boneless. Eventually, he pushed himself up on shaky arms, looking down at you with dazed, blissed-out eyes. “That was…”
“Yeah,” you finished for him, smiling softly.
He carefully pulled out, disposing of the condom before collapsing back beside you on the bed, on his back. He stared at the ceiling. “I think my soul left my body.”
You laughed, turning onto your side to face him. You traced a finger over the ridges of his abdomen. “How do you feel?”
He turned his head to look at you. “Incredible. Exhausted. A little sore. Mostly, um.” he smiled wide. “Really happy.” Then he frowned slightly. “But was it—okay for you? I know I didn’t last that long.”
“Jake, you made me come twice. Once with your mouth. It was more than okay.” You leaned in and kissed his shoulder. “You were perfect, baby.”
He beamed, that proud grin returning. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close so your head rested on his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady under your ear. “Good. ‘Cause I wanna do it again. Like, after a nap. Maybe after some wings too. But definitely again.”
You snorted. “The wings are cold by now.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbled, his voice already thick with sleep. His fingers traced idle patterns on your bare arm. “You’re so warm. And you smell like me now. Mm. It’s so nice.”
His words were starting to slur. The adrenaline crash was pulling him under fast. You’d predicted this too, though, him turning into a sleepy, clingy koala.
“Go to sleep, Jakey,” you whispered.
“M’not tired,” he protested weakly, but his eyelids were already fluttering closed. His arm tightened around you. “Just don’t go, okay? Stay right here.”
You laughed softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
for my cupcake i smirk + tag list : @ewstain @ickbite @s4eungie @heetaki
synopsis : your one of the few lucky girls who were chosen to attend enhypen's fan sign for their new album. as the horny little freak you are for jake, you decide to take your chance and sneak under the table...
cw : secret handjob/blowjob, cum eating, public humiliation, non-con, mentions of masturbation, deep-throating, gagging, drool, head-pushing, *let me know if i missed anything*
wc : 1.9k
a/n : i know this is extremely unrealistic!! the fantasy has just been lingering in my head..
You were completely and utterly freaked-out.
You were the kind of girl men had wet dreams of. Sexy, slim legs, cold eyes—the kind that could pierce right through you. Also not to mention your sex drive of a literal god.
But you had your eyes set on one person. The Sim Jaeyun of Enhypen.
Most evenings, you’d find yourself twisted in your damp bedsheets, gasping Jake’s name as you scissored your fingers deep inside your cunt.
He had you on your knees. You were down bad—desperate. It was honestly pathetic. You wondered what he’d think if he knew he had fans who ruined themselves to the thought of him.
Oh– there’s a new angle of his fancam? You had already seen it. New merch? You already owned it. You needed him, and nothing was going to stop you from getting what you wanted.
So here you are, sitting in the crowd, at Enhypen’s 2026 fanmeet for their new album release. Your ears rang from how loud it was—fangirls screaming and yelling to get the boys attention, cameras flashing all over, and the faded bass from their track Big Girls Don’t Cry.
You’re not sure exactly how it happened—the announcement on Weverse had caught your attention one day and you decided to take a shot at the raffle.
Your stomach erupted with butterflies and did a full 360 when you saw your name on the final list. Fuck. You were going to finally meet Jake. You loved all of Enhypen, but there was something about that Aussie charm that shot jolts of electricity right to your core.
An MC finally appeared on stage and announced the starting of the event. They explained that the boys would do a quick introduction, followed by some games, and then the actual fan sign process would start.
Girls around you giggle and whisper to one another, asking each other if their makeup looks nice. Some even look pale as a ghost—sick to the stomach with nervousness. I mean, who could blame them? They were about to meet the Enhypen.
But you—you were confident. Ready.
Ready to make yourself known to Jake Sim, the man who has you cumming all over your fingers each night.
“Please remember, 2 minutes with each member—once your time is up please move on to the next chair. No touching the members, no giving them gifts, no reaching over the table…”
Blah blah blah.
The staff was always insanely strict at these events, but again, nothing was gonna stop you from getting what you wanted.
After waiting for around 30 minutes, you stepped onto the stage. It was your turn.
First, you spoke to Heeseung.
He was hot as hell, you couldn’t lie. That perfect side profile, prominent nose and Adam's apple—it could make anyone melt on the spot.
Next was Jay, who was such a gentleman. Always so sweet. You talked about your shared love for F1 racing, and found it adorable how much he nerded out. One thing you noticed right away—his eyes darting back and forth to your exposed cleavage. You were straight up eye candy to these boys.
Finally… you reached Jake. Fuck, he looked so good today. His new brown curls framed his face perfectly. Your heart slammed against your chest in anticipation. This was your one and only chance to make a move on him.
“Hello!” He was so cute.
You started off with small talk, leaning forward on the table, giving him a clear view of your tits squished together perfectly.
Jake wasn’t oblivious to your tactics. He played along—eyed your lips for a couple seconds too long, and bit his lip every time you adjusted your shirt. You wore your most expensive perfume—one that smelled of bourbon and sweet cherries. You smelled like what sex felt like.
Jake found himself taking deeper breaths—inhaling your intoxicating scent. He wished he could spend more time with you. Little did he know he was about to have his wish granted.
“I just love your new album so much, especially Sleep Tight, it really has me feeling some type of way.” You smirked, your eyes taking in all of his soft features.
His ears immediately turned pink—realizing that you were talking about his very own song, which was pretty much about getting a girl into his bed. Now, he was imagining that girl was you.
“T-thank you—really, I mean, that really means a lot to me.” His aussie accent thickened and his voice dropped lower.
Time was ticking, and you needed to make a move fast.
The staff motioned that your turn was over.
Without even thinking, you purposely dropped your pen you had brought for him to sign with. It fell underneath the table, just barely peeking out from the table cloth that draped to the floor.
You quickly ducked down, pretending to grab the pen.
Jake, like the gentleman he is, was planning on helping you pick it up.
“Oops, let me grab that for ya,” He leaned down, but was only met by your face underneath the table.
Jake gulped, shooting straight back up in his chair, looking around frantically for staff who may be standing nearby.
It was the perfect moment for you to duck underneath the table. Staff was busy yelling at the line of people waiting, music was loud, fans were screaming—no one was paying attention.
You crawled quickly, making sure the tablecloth fully covered you. And it did.
You were about to play the most dangerous game of your life.
You peeked out just enough through the curtain of the tablecloth to see that the next fan had taken their seat, ready to talk to Jake—who was currently in a state of panic.
Giggling to yourself, you scooched over to his knees, bracing your hands onto his thighs. You felt him jump.
Jake could feel his cock twitching in his pants—his hottest fan was now at his knees, and he could only imagine what you were about to do next.
As slow as you could—you took one hand and reached for his belt. Your pace was like molasses—painfully unhurried. On one hand, you didn’t want to get caught. On the other, you wanted to tease the shit out of him.
You unlooped the belt, setting it beside you. Jake stuttered while talking to the fan, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious.
“Oh my goodness Jake! You’re my bias!” The fan chirped and bounced in her seat.
“It-it’s so nice to m-meet you..!” Cute. Jake was now obviously very flustered. Maybe the fan thought she was doing that to him. But really, it was you, and your dainty fingers that started unzipping the fly of his jeans.
You slid your hand in just far enough to reach for his cock—which to your surprise was exactly how you had imagined it. Big. Hard. Twitching in his boxers. You palmed him ever so slightly, causing him to flinch as if someone had just pinched him. He bit his lip so hard he could almost taste the metallic tang of blood.
It was dark under the table—you could barely see what you were doing. But you slid your hands further into his pants, finding the small hole in the center of his boxers. You pulled him out slowly—he was so warm and thick in your hands.
You could only stare at his length in awe—your mouth watering. You couldn’t wait to gag and slobber all over it.
“Could you sign this shirt for me Jake?” A different fan was now sitting at the chair.
“Y-yeah, of course!” Jake hissed, gritting his teeth hard. He could feel your warm hand start to wrap around the base of him.
As he grabbed the fan's shirt to sign it, you slowly started pumping him. Your hand traveled up and down firmly over his cock, which was already wet from the leaking precum. He scribbled a messy autograph onto the shirt—he gripped the pen so hard, trying to keep himself from losing control and drawing all over the place.
Your pace quickened, your wrists twisting to get the perfect coverage around him. He couldn’t help but bite his lips as you increased speed.
“Ngh–” He whimpered.
Out. Loud.
His eyes went wide—people definitely just heard him.
Sunghoon chuckled next to him, “Yo dude—you good?”
Jake nodded, and explained he had an upset stomach. Yeah right.
The girl talking to Jake started giggling with the girl talking to Sunghoon. Meanwhile, Jake’s face was tomato red. His cheeks were on fire.
His breathing quickened and caught Jay’s attention.
“Damn, you must have a really bad stomach ache!”
The surrounding fans and crowd laughed hysterically. It was public humiliation. Maybe that was your new kink. Jake swallowed, forced a chuckle, and continued signing things.
You decided to push the teasing further, bringing his tip to your lips. You gave it small kisses and kitten licks, letting the salty precum dribble onto your tongue. His thighs clenched, and he reached one hand down to your head, pulling on your hair with a steel grip. Finally, you took him all the way into your mouth. God, your mouth felt so full of him. You wasted no time bobbing your head furiously up and down his cock. He shifted restlessly in his seat.
You made loud slurping and gagging noises as he prodded the back of your throat with his tip. He was afraid someone was going to hear you sooner than later.
Drool collected at the sides of your mouth as you continued to hollow your cheeks on him. You were being messy and loud—which turned Jake on so much. The thrill of being caught made both of you feel like your skin was on fire.
You could feel his release nearing as his cock twitched and throbbed in your mouth. His hips began bucking into your face, your nose hitting his pubic bone. Each thrust made you gag around his length.
Your panties grew tighter around your folds. You were so slick between your thighs… Oh how Jake would love to be in between them right now.
“Hi Jake!” A new fan was now sitting down.
“Do you miss Australia? How’s Layla? Have you eaten today? If you had a girlfriend what would…” The sounds of the fan’s questions drowned out as you continued to suck him.
All you could hear was the wet gargles and gags that came from your throat, which was being abused by his thick cock.
Jake was close. He stuttered while answering questions, and cursed in between sentences.
“I uh—Fuck! I–uhm, yeah, I miss Australia—”
At this point, the fan was weirded out. Here was ‘confident and sexy’ Jake absolutely falling apart in his chair, acting like a complete weirdo. He got suspicious looks from other members as he continued to choke over small whimpers.
Then suddenly, with a groan, his eyes began to roll back into his head. His cock gave one last final twitch—then spurted out hot seed into your throat.
You gagged slightly, making a mess on the floor. Drool and cum dripped from the sides of your mouth. Jake’s cock was still down your throat—you bobbed your head furiously, making sure every last drip of cum was milked from him.
Once he finished riding out his pleasure, it became apparent to him how much of a mess he had become. He slouched in his chair, his hair messy, sweat beading at his forehead, and his cheeks burning. He was panting like a dog.
You swallowed his cum with a gulp, letting the salty and musky taste wash over your palette.
Mission fucking accomplished.
Jake knew he had to get your number, or something. He pushed your head back under the table, motioning for you to stay until the fan sign was over. As long as he could have those pretty lips wrapped around his dick again, he was a happy man.
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