this ask actually made me giggle. i'm glad u enjoy them! nice to know that the fics are at least reaching the right people hehe. hoping to write more once my schedule dies down a bit
SUMMARY : a petty fight on the drive home from a party gets heated enough for your boyfriend, jake sim, to pull over. things don’t exactly cool down after that.
CONTAINS : smut, top!jake, bot!reader, jealous reader, fuckboy-ish jake, banter (ofc), bj (r. recieving), car sex
WORD COUNT : 2.686k
your drive home was supposed to be quiet. supposed to be. instead, it’s jake humming along to some dumb trending pop song, drumming his fingers on the wheel like he didn’t just spend the last two hours acting like .
“what’s wrong with you?” you mutter, arms crossed tight. “like, genuinely. do you think i like watching you grind on people like i’m not even there?”
jake scoffs playfully, eyes flicking back to the road. “grind? i wasn’t grinding on anyone.”
“you had your hands all over her.”
“i was helping her find the kitchen.”
you sound bitter. “with your hand on her waist?”
he smirks. “hey, i’m a hands on guy.”
you slap his arm, more reflex than anything. “you’re such an asshole.”
he laughs, like actually laughs, which you swear makes you one step closer to fully snapping. “you’re overreacting. seriously. i was just talking to people.”
“sure you were," you say sarcastically, "you were eating it up, the attention, the flirting, all of it. you love it.”
his smirk rises, that little dangerous curl of his mouth. “and you don’t?”
“i don’t like my boyfriend look like a fucking idiot. like a fuckboy.”
that shuts him up for half a second, and you think maybe you won something... until he shakes his head, smirk sliding right back in place. “god, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
your whole body tries its best not to strangle him right now. “don’t call me cute right now.”
“what? it’s true.” he leans back, one hand loose on the wheel, the picture of smug comfort. “you get this little pout, all defensive. makes me wanna—”
“pull over so i can walk home.” you snap.
his tongue pokes his cheek with that smirk, like he’s holding back another laugh. “so dramatic.”
“stop saying that!” you shove at his shoulder this time, the car swerving slightly as he chuckles.
“what, i can’t tell the truth?”
you glare daggers at him, heat rising in your throat. “you’re so full of yourself.”
“and yet,” he says slowly, eyes cutting toward you, “you’re the one all worked up over me.”
that’s it. you can’t take the smugness, the little smirk, the way he’s so calm while you’re fuming. disbelief spilling over into anger. “worked up? oh my god, you’re insane. i’m pissed, jake. there’s a difference.”
he tilts his head, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “pissed because someone touched your pretty boy?”
“shut the fuck up,” you snap, even if he is a little bit right. “i don’t care if someone touches you. i care when you let them.”
“so you do care.” his grin widens, triumphant.
you groan loud, dragging both hands through your hair. “you twist everything i say.”
he shrugs, like the steering wheel isn’t between his hands and your patience. “i just think it’s funny. you act all cold at the party, ignoring me, and now you’re foaming at the mouth ‘cause i smiled at someone.”
“jake. you didn’t just smile,” you shoot back. “you leaned down, whispered in her ear like—like—”
“like what?” his tone sharpens just a little, though the smirk doesn’t fall. “like i wanted her?”
you hesitate, pulse racing. “yeah. exactly like that.”
he exhales, amused. “baby, if i wanted her, i wouldn’t have left with you.”
“oh, congratulations,” you bite. “you came home with your boyfriend. what a fucking saint.”
that makes him laugh again, low and delighted, which is the worst possible response.
“you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, crossing your arms so tight it hurts.
“and you’re jealous.”
you snap your head toward him, eyes wide. “say jealous one more time—”
he smirks, eyes on the road. “jealous.”
that’s it. you can’t take the smugness, the little smirk, the way he’s so calm while you’re fuming.
“you’re such a fucking child,” you spit, voice sharp enough to cut.
jake’s laugh is low, smug, deliberate. “say that again.”
before you can snap back, the blinker clicks, and the car swerves off the road. tires crunch against gravel as he kills the engine, plunging everything into a buzzing silence.
you blink at him, chest heaving. “what the fuck are you—”
his hand shoots across the console, grabbing the lever at your side, yanking it so your seat jolts back with a squeal. before you can react, he’s shoving the chair down, reclining it until you’re half-sprawled, pressed against cool leather.
he’s leaning over you now, braced on one arm, breath hot against your mouth. “say it again.”
your pulse hammers. you glare up at him, jaw tight. “fuck you and your smag ass personality.”
his grin sharpens. “aww, you wanna fuck me?”
then he’s kissing you, hard, bruising. it’s messy, desperate, like every insult in the car condensed into heat and teeth. you hate how fast you melt into it, how your hand fists in his hoodie instead of pushing him away.
he drags his tongue along your teeth, groaning when you bite down too sharp. “still mad, huh?”
“don’t act like this fixes anything,” you snap, voice catching when his thigh shoves between yours, pressing you open.
he smirks, grinding his hips down against you, the console creaking with the force. “then don’t act like you don’t love it.”
you shove at his chest, but it’s weak, traitorous. “you're an asshole.”
“and you’re hard,” he shoots back, one hand sliding down your stomach, groping you through your jeans. his palm presses slow, teasing, until your breath stutters. “so which one of us looks stupid now?”
“still you,” you bite out, even as your hips roll up into his hand.
he laughs, low and wrecked, like he can’t believe how much this turns him on. “god, you’re hot when you’re petty.”
your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard. he groans, smirk never faltering, and dives down to mouth at your neck. the wet drag of his tongue makes your eyes flutter, but you grit your teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan.
“gonna be quiet for me now?” he murmurs against your skin. “after all that yelling?”
“maybe i just don’t wanna hear your voice anymore.”
jake pulls back, eyes glinting in the dim dashboard light. “i'll just wait till you do.”
before you can retort, his hand slips under your waistband, fingers wrapping around you. you choke on a gasp, back arching against the seat.
“fuck—”
he grins, stroking slow, deliberately teasing. “there’s the sound i wanted.”
you bite your lip so hard it hurts, glaring at him even as your hips jerk up. “don’t... give yourself the credit”
he laughs while his wrist twists, pumping you with maddening rhythm. “oh, i’ll take the credit. all of it.”
your nails dig into his shoulders, grounding yourself against the way your body betrays you. he shifts lower, mouthing down your chest, fumbling your jeans open with one hand.
“gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, voice mocking but soft.
“just shut up and do it,” you snap.
his grin widens. “so bossy.”
but he does. he drags your pants down, pressing kisses to your stomach, slow and messy. his hair brushes your skin as he works his way lower, until his mouth is on you, hot and wet and perfect.
you curse loud, head hitting the seat. your hand shoots down to grip his hair, tugging hard. he groans around you, the vibration making you buck.
“hate you,” you gasp, even as your thighs tremble.
he pulls back, lips slick, smirk devastating. “funny way of showing it.”
before you can answer, he’s back down, taking you deeper, throat working. you swear your vision goes white for a second, breath catching on a broken moan.
your petty resolve cracks with every drag of his tongue, every swallow. you’re still glaring, but it’s weak now, desperate.
he pulls off again just long enough to breathe, “say it. say you hate me.”
your chest heaves, words spilling before you can stop them. “i hate you—fuck—”
he groans like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard, dives back down harder, faster, until your whole body’s shuddering. your grip in his hair tightens, thighs shaking around his head, chest heaving like you can’t get enough air.
he pulls off with a wet gasp, lips slick, chin shining, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “look at you,” he pants, grinning. “falling apart already.”
you’re flushed, breathing ragged, still glaring down at him. “don’t think this cancels out what you were doing back there.”
jake tilts his head, hair falling into his eyes, smirk sharp as ever. “what was i doing?”
“stop playing dumb, jake.” your voice cracks when his hand slides back up your thigh.
his grin widens, fingers ghosting over you again, maddeningly light. “i was being polite.”
you groan, dragging a hand down your face, half-delirious and still pissed. “you were being an whore.”
“maybe,” he mutters, pressing two fingers inside you without warning, “but you’re still letting a fingerin.”
your breath stutters, eyes fluttering. “fuck—”
“yeah,” he says, watching your face like he’s starving. “keep talking, i like it.”
you try, words strangled as his fingers curl. “you should’ve just— kept your hands to yourself.”
he leans up, mouth hot against your ear. “want me to keep them here instead?”
you don’t answer fast enough, back arching as he separates the fingers, and his laugh is low and smug. “thought so.”
the seat squeals as he shoves it farther back, crowding over you, braced between your thighs. the moment his cock drags against you, both of you groan.
“still holding that grudge?” he teases, lining himself up.
you glare, jaw tight, even as your body pushes toward him. “if you take your time, i’ll start listing names.”
his smirk nearly splits his face. “jesus. that's hot.”
then he pushes in, slow but relentless, and your words cut off in a sharp cry. your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in.
“fuck,” jake groans, head dropping against your neck. “you’re unreal.”
your breath stutters, back arching into him despite yourself. “don’t sugar talk me now.”
he pulls back, thrusts forward hard enough to rock the car on its axles. “who said i was sugar talking?”
you bite your lip, half a glare, half a moan. “just... shut up and move.”
and he does, grinning against your skin, hips snapping faster, deeper, like he can fuck the fight right out of you
the rhythm builds fast, jake driving into you hard enough to make the whole car creak. sweat sticks his shirt to his back, windows slightly fogging with every groan and gasp.
your fingers dig further into his shoulders, and you manage to choke out, “you better not think this means i’m over it.”
jake laughs, breathless, grinding deeper until you can’t keep the sound in your throat. “baby, you could still be yelling at me and i’d eat it up.”
you want to roll your eyes, maybe spit another comeback, but the way he angles his hips steals the thought. instead, you end up clinging harder, your legs trembling around his waist now, you pray anyone driving wont notice the shaking car.
he notices, ofcourse. he always does. “there it is,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “knew i’d find it.”
you bite back the whine threatening to slip out, gritting your teeth. “smug bastard.”
he kisses your jaw, sloppy and hot, smirk curving against your skin. “keep calling me names. i’ll make you scream them.”
the car rocks harder, rhythm messy now, both of you sweating and swearing. you try to hang onto the grudge like it gives you some control, but your body betrays you, arching into him, clenching around him.
jake’s groan is harsh. “fuck... you’re not mad, you’re obsessed.”
you glare, even as your moan exposes you. “don’t flatter yourself.”
the sound in the car is obscene now, skin slapping, the slide of sweat, your broken gasps. you’re too far gone to keep up the act.
“jake—” it rips out of you, raw and desperate, more plea than accusation.
his forehead presses to yours, thrusts sharp, relentless. “cum with me. right here.”
your legs lock around him, dragging him in deeper, and the fight you’d been clinging to unravels in a single messy rush. your body seizes as you cum, gasping against his mouth.
he curses, low and ragged, chasing it. three more brutal thrusts and he’s coming too, hot and heavy inside you, hips grinding until he’s wrung out.
the car goes quiet but for the ringing of your breaths. windows slightly dripping condensation, both of you wrecked.
jake collapses forward, chest heaving against yours, then starts to laugh, soft and smug. “still mad?”
you shove at his shoulder weakly, glaring even as your body refuses to let him go. “don’t talk to me.”
he kisses your neck anyway, lazy and warm. “you say that all the time.”
you close your eyes, trying not to melt into him, trying not to give in to the comfort sneaking in under the haze. “next time you flirt with someone, i’m keying your car.”
he grins against your skin, too satisfied to argue. “worth it.”
jake eventually pulls out with a hiss, the sudden emptiness making you shiver. he leans over you, presses a kiss to your jaw, lazy and smug, before finally climbing back into the driver’s seat. the car creaks under the shift.
the engine rumbles to life, headlights carving out the empty road ahead. jake cracks the window and lights up, the faint scratch of his lighter filling the quiet before smoke curls into the night.
you fix your clothes in silence, still fuming on principle, even though your legs are trembling and your pulse hasn’t caught up. you turn your face toward the window, pretending the empty road is more interesting than him.
“so quiet all of a sudden,” jake says, exhaling smoke with a grin in his voice. “kinda suspicious.”
you scoff, crossing your arms. “don’t flatter yourself. i just don’t feel like talking.”
“mm.” he taps ash out the window, glancing at you sidelong. “you don’t not feel like talking. you’re holding onto your little grudge ‘cause it makes you feel powerful.”
your jaw tightens. “would that include making you sleep on the curb tonight.”
he laughs, warm and throaty, like the idea doesn’t scare him at all. “please. you’d last five minutes without me before crawling back.”
you glare at him, but the heat behind it is softer now, dulled by exhaustion and the buzz still fizzing in your veins. “you’re impossible.”
“and irresistible,” he shoots back instantly, grin spreading across his face.
you groan, dragging a hand over your face. “god, shut up.”
but then he flicks ash out the window, voice dropping just a little. “seriously, though… why would i go for anyone else? i’ve got the world’s best ass sitting right here.”
you whip your head toward him, giving him a side eye, but your chest warms anyway. “you’re disgusting.”
he smirks around the cigarette. “disgusting and loyal. can’t beat that combo.”
the corner of your mouth twitches annoyingly close to a smile. you turn back to the window to hide it, watching streetlights blur past as the smoke swirls between you.
jake drives one-handed, other arm draped out the window, humming some half-remembered tune under his breath. the road hums steady beneath you, and bit by bit the tension bleeds out of your shoulders.
he glances over once, catches the way you’re leaning into the seat now, not rigid anymore. “see? told you we’d be fine.”
you huff, still clinging to the last scraps of your grudge. “don’t get used to it.”
“too late,” he says, grinning as he takes another drag. “i already did.”
the silence that follows isn’t heavy this time. it stretches comfortable, the air thick with smoke and leftover heat, and when jake reaches over at the next red light to squeeze your thigh, you don’t push him away.
you just sigh, soft and surrendering, and let the hum of the engine carry you both the rest of the way home
jae's note ! a little thing i was writing for a while and took a bit to get out. currently in the midterm season so will try to fulfill the poll's results sometime soon!
would u b open to writing for bigbang… specifically jiyong.. ? 😛🙂↔️
hii!!!
i'm not opposed to the idea, but i also only really know / listen to groups in the 4th-5th gen of kpop so i don't exactly know that much about older groups.
okay wait on the topic of trying stuff out, any groups or idols you want w/ what dynamic or anything. willing to test the waters but i might change somethings.
SUMMARY : park jisung is just trying to rank up in peace, but his boyfriend has other ideas. turns out it’s hard to focus on your game when there’s someone under your desk making you blush, stutter, and mute your mic every five seconds.
CONTAINS : smut, established relationship, sub!jisung, cocky m!reader, blowjob (j. recieving), gaming + mic muting, teasing
WORD COUNT : 1.047k
he’s been gaming for nearly two hours now, but it might as well be ten.
his headset’s perched on his head just a little crooked, sleeves of his hoodie shoved up as he leans forward, talking quickly into the mic. his voice is soft but intense, the way it always gets when he’s hyper-focused.
“yo—yo, i got mid, i got mid. just hold—just hold, hyung, don’t peek yet—”
he’s so into it he doesn’t even notice you watching him from the bed. and you’ve been watching for a while. not the game, just him. how his hoodie rides up when he leans forward, how his thighs shift in his seat, one leg bouncing rhythmically beneath the desk. that little crease between his brows when he’s concentrating. yeah, dangerous.
you stand up, walking toward him slowly. no reaction. not until your arms wrap around his shoulders and you lean in, lips brushing behind his ear.
“you’ve been ignoring me.”
jisung jumps. actually jumps. his hand leaves the mouse for a split second, and he almost fumbles the match.
“ah—wait, wait—! babe—” he gasps, scrambling for his bearings. “what—what are you doing?”
you smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. “i missed you.”
his voice cracks mid-sentence as he talks back into his mic. “uh—one sec, sorry, my… my boyfriend just walked in.”
you smirk against his cheek.
“i thought you were busy,” he whispers, panicked and breathless, eyes flicking between you and the glowing screen.
“i made some time,” you murmur, letting your hand trail down his chest.
“wait. wait—i’m in my rank-up game—”
“i’ll be quiet,” you promise, your hand already drifting down.
he freezes. and slams the mute button.
the red light clicks on.
“you’re kidding,” he hisses, wide-eyed.
“nope,” you say, kneeling beside his chair. “don’t lose.”
“babe—seriously—what are you—”
you tug his waistband down.
“oh my god.”
he squeezes his legs together. “you’re actually serious.”
“uh-huh.”
“but—i have to—i have to play—i—”
“so play.”
he whines. actually whines. “you’re the worst.”
you kiss the inside of his thigh. “but you’re not stopping me.”
his eyes drop to you under the desk, jaw tightening, cheeks glowing red. he doesn't argue again. you take out his cock out slowly, warm and already a little hard just from the teasing, and press a kiss to the tip. jisung jolts like you shocked him.
“f-fuck,” he stammers, clutching his mouse. “i can’t—this isn’t—”
you take him into your mouth, slow and warm and steady. jisung’s response is immediate. a full-body twitch, a noise like he’s choking on a breath. he slaps a hand over his mouth, shoulders tensing slightly.
he tries to reach for his keyboard again, but his hand’s shaking.
“you’re insane,” he whispers, head tilted back slightly. “you’re actually—fuck—”
his hips twitch when your tongue swirls around him. his mouse hand fumbles a little, and you hear someone shout through his headset.
“yo, jisung? why’d you stop pushing mid?”
he scrambles to unmute. “lag!” he squeaks. “sorry! uh—lag spike.”
re-mute.
you go deeper. jisung lets out a muffled moan, just barely managing to stay upright in his chair.
he’s still trying to play. barely. his eyes are on the screen but they're glassy, unfocused, his lips parted in disbelief as you hollow your cheeks around him.
“oh—god—please—don’t suck like that—” he mumbles, thighs twitching around your shoulders.
you pop off just long enough to murmur, “you taste good.”
“d-don’t—don’t say that—” he hisses, a light tint of red all the way down to his neck.
you hum again as you take him back in. and this time, jisung breaks.
his hand slips off the keyboard entirely. a long, low moan escapes him before he can clamp his hand over his mouth. it’s too loud. too desperate. his headset mic probably picks up the tail end of it.
you hear muffled confusion from the other end.
“uh… jisung?”
“what was that?”
he fumbles for the mute button and mashes it.
“shit—fuck—fuck,” he breathes, chest heaving. “oh my god.”
you don’t stop. you drag your tongue along the underside, slow and gentle, then suck harder when his thighs shake. the chair creaks as he pushes back into it helplessly, one arm thrown over his face.
“i c-can’t play like this,” he whimpers. “you’re actually gonna make me—i’m gonna—ohh—”
his voice dissolves into a shaky moan when you bob your head lower. he tries to mute and unmute again, but eventually just gives up, leaves it on mute, and lets his head fall back entirely.
he’s flushed, eyes closed, one hand curled tight in his hoodie. he tries to put his other hand back on the mouse, but the moment your lips sink down around him again, he flinches and pulls away from the screen entirely.
“i—i have to go afk,” he gasps, barely getting the words out. “tell—tell them i—fuck—i need—”
he doesn’t even finish the sentence. just drops his hands into his lap.
you glance up. he’s full on hiding his face now, breath catching with every movement of your mouth.
“you okay?” you tease, tongue sliding slow and deep.
he chokes on a moan. “n-no. n-not okay.”
you let your hands slide up his thighs, gripping gently as you speed up a little. jisung lets out a desperate noise, trying to stay quiet but failing miserably.
“i’m gonna—i’m actually—”
his hips jerk and his whole body shudders. he reaches for the desk, misses, and lets out the softest, prettiest whine you’ve ever heard.
“please, please—d-don’t stop, i’m gonna come—”
you don’t.
you suck him deep, feel him twitch against your tongue, and that’s it. he goes silent for half a second, then moans so loud it’s almost a sob. his thighs tremble around you, and he finishes with a broken cry, hands clenched in his hoodie like he’s praying for forgiveness.
when you pull back, breath warm against his skin, jisung is slumped fully back in the chair. red-faced. dazed. sweating.
“you lost your rank-up, huh?” you ask sweetly.
he groans, hiding his face. “i hate you.”
you kiss his thigh again. “no you don’t.”
“i do. you’re evil.”
you grin. “you still came in my mouth.”
he covers his face with both hands. “don’t remind me.”
his headset’s still on. the game’s long since ended. his friends are still shouting.
but jisung? he’s not coming back from afk anytime soon.
jae's note ! holy inactive era. sorry everyone im busy with freaking studying :p time to hopefully write again (no promises)
back for a bit to hopefully release something for everyone. hope you and everyone are having a nice day :)) too busy recently to actually write and w midterms soon i don't think it's gonna get any better but who knows!!
turn it up | 솔직한 나를 원했거든 좀 더 기다려, I'll party all night
PAIRING : academic rival!sunghoon x m!reader
SUMMARY : you hate being stuck with park sunghoon for this group project, and you hate even more that he ditched your library meetup. when you storm into his dorm to yell at him, his teasing flips the whole fight into something you can’t take back.
CONTAINS : smut, dom!sunghoon, semi-bratty!reader, enemies-to-lovers (kinda?), rough sex, manhandling, sunghoon is a lot more teasing
WORD COUNT : 1.723k | previous part [turn it down]
you don’t even make eye contact when the professor announces the pairs. you just hear sunghoon’s name tied with yours, and your head drops into your hands. across the room, he makes this low noise, like he’s trying not to laugh. of course. of fucking course.
you already know he’s looking at you. you refuse to glance up, but you can feel his gaze like heat on your skin. everyone else murmurs about their groups, flipping through notebooks. you sit there, fists clenched, counting down the seconds until class ends.
when it finally does, you’re halfway to the door when he corners you, walking backwards in front of you, that smug half-smile tugging at his mouth.
“guess we’re a team now. lucky you.”
“lucky,” you echo flatly. “right. i’ll carry you to an a.”
“hey, i contribute,” he says, brushing hair out of his eyes in a way that’s almost rehearsed. “moral support, comedic relief, devastating good looks. the essentials.”
“none of those help me pass.”
he just grins wider. “you’ll see.”
later, when you finally check your phone, there’s already a text from an unknown number.
sunghoon :
saved my number yet, partner?
followed by another:
sunghoon :
(for emergencies. like if you miss me too much.)
you nearly block him on the spot.
somehow, against all odds, you two don’t kill each other in the first week. you agree on a topic, set deadlines, pretend this is normal. but there’s no denying that being around him feels like playing a game you didn’t agree to. he always has a comment, always keeps his eyes on you longer than necessary.
the cafe meetup is proof. you end up across from each other at a little table by the window, your laptop open, his notebook mostly empty. he stirs his iced coffee way too long before sipping it, spoon clinking against the glass. the sound burrows into your skull.
“are you gonna drink that or polish the ice cubes?” you mutter.
“what, jealous?” he finally takes a loud sip, leaning back in his chair. “yours looks boring. hot black coffee. predictable.”
“some of us are here to work.”
“mm, yeah. but see—” he taps the spoon against his teeth. “i’m here to observe.”
“observe what?”
“you.”
you glare. “excuse me?”
“don’t get flustered.” he scribbles nothing in the corner of his page. “just memorizing your little habits. ammo for later.”
“you’re insufferable.”
“and you like it.”
you roll your eyes, but he notices the way you hide behind your cup. his grin widens like he’s already won.
he notices everything, actually. the way you chew on your pen when you’re thinking. the way you huff under your breath when your laptop lags. you catch him writing some of it down, like notes, and when you reach for the notebook he flips the page too fast.
“nosy,” he says.
“you’re the one writing about me like a stalker.”
“not a stalker. just thorough.”
he leaves with almost nothing written about the project, but he looks too satisfied for someone who got no work done.
then comes the library session. or, at least, the plan for one.
it’s 1am. your laptop’s open, your notes spread out, highlighters lined like soldiers. you’re ready to finally make progress.
2am. nothing. your phone stays stubbornly dark.
2:30. you start typing anyway, even though half your sentences don’t make sense.
3am. your head throbs. the library is so quiet it feels like a prank. you keep checking your phone like it owes you an explanation.
by 4am, you’re practically vibrating with exhaustion and rage. you’ve downed stale vending machine coffee, scrawled pages of messy notes, and still: nothing.
finally, your phone buzzes.
sunghoon :
sorry. napped.
that’s it. two words. like your time means nothing.
you stare at the screen until your vision blurs. then you’re shoving everything into your bag, shoving your chair back, ignoring the librarian’s glare. anger carries you out the doors into the cold night.
the walk across campus feels endless. the air bites at your skin, your backpack digs into your shoulders. each step winds you tighter, replaying his text in your head. sorry. napped. sorry. napped. by the time you reach his building, you swear steam was coming out your ears.
you pound on his door hard enough your knuckles sting.
when it finally swings open, he stands there half-asleep, hair mussed, hoodie sliding off one shoulder. and he still manages to look unfairly good.
“you’re fucking kidding me.” you push past him into the room, dropping your bag with a loud thud. “you had one job, sunghoon.”
he yawns, scratching the back of his neck. “did i say sorry already? i did, right? i’m sorry.”
“you can’t just—” you stop, fists clenching. “i’ve been up all night. waiting. and you just…”
“napped,” he finishes for you, lips twitching. “yeah. you’re cute when you’re sleep deprived.”
you whip your head toward him. “what?”
he just shrugs, like it’s nothing. “also hot when you’re mad. i kinda wanted to see it.”
“you’re—” words fail you. “you’re unbelievable.”
he grins, slow and lazy, then pads over to his desk. with one flick, his speaker hums to life. music spills out. not study music. heavy bass, sultry vocals, the kind of thing that settles in your chest and thrums. you blink.
“this isn’t…” you trail off. “this isn’t study music.”
sunghoon shoots you a look over his shoulder, smug as hell. “who said i was studying?”
realization clicks, sharp in your chest. “you’re fucking kidding me. is this—”
“a sex playlist?” he supplies easily. “yeah. don’t act so surprised.”
heat crawls up your neck before you can stop it. he catches it instantly, walking closer, slow and deliberate. “what? don’t like it?”
“it’s—” your voice cracks. “it’s stupid.”
“mm. sure.” he’s standing way too close now, his hoodie brushing your arm. “say it again without blushing.”
“i’m not—” but you are. and his grin says he knows it.
and then he leans down, catching your mouth in a kiss that’s both messy and deliberate. your bag is forgotten, the all-nighter forgotten, everything dissolving under the weight of his lips moving against yours. you shove him back, hard, but it only makes him stumble onto the bed and drag you down with him.
“you’re insane,” you mutter against his mouth.
“and you’re still kissing me,” he breathes back.
you don’t know how it escalates so fast. one second, you’re biting his lip just to shut him up. the next, he’s got his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging until you gasp. he swallows the sound, smirking into the kiss.
“fuck, you make the best noises,” he murmurs, pulling harder until your scalp tingles. “gonna drag more out of you.”
“try me,” you snap, though your voice betrays you, shaky and raw. he pushes you onto your back, climbing over you, hoodie falling somewhere on the floor. his shirt rides up as he straddles you, lean muscles shifting with every movement.
he grinds down, slow, deliberate, and your breath hitches. he hears it, of course he does, and his smirk widens. “already hard?”
“shut up.”
“make me.” he leans down again, kissing you with teeth this time, biting at your lip until you groan. his hand slides under your shirt, nails dragging over your skin, leaving trails of heat.
before you know it, he’s got you half-undressed, your shirt gone, his mouth on your neck. sucking, biting, marking. you push at his shoulder but he just pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other tugging your hair again until your back arches.
“fuck—sunghoon—”
“that’s it. say my name again.” his voice is low, rougher now. “louder.”
his hand slips lower, palming you through your jeans, and you buck up against it despite yourself. he laughs, quiet and cruel. “needy already? didn’t know you were such a slut for your rival.”
“i’m not—” your protest cuts off with a gasp when he squeezes. he drags the zipper down agonizingly slow, eyes locked on yours. “fuck, look at you,” he breathes, stroking you lazily. “all worked up over me.”
“i hate you.”
“sure you do.” he leans down to kiss you again, hand moving faster, making you squirm under him. “hate me more.”
by the time he finally frees himself, you’re both panting, half-dressed, desperate. he lines up, teasing, just brushing against you. your hips jolt, chasing friction, and he smirks down at you. “pathetic,” he says softly. “you want it that bad?”
you don’t let out any noise, or at least try to, but its ovbious you want more.
“beg prettier.” his hand yanks your hair again, forcing your head back, exposing your throat. “come on. make it good.”
“please,” you bite out. “please, just—”
that’s all he needs. he pushes in hard, all at once, and you choke on a gasp. he groans against your ear, “fuck, you feel good,” before pulling back and slamming in again. the bed creaks with every thrust, his grip on your wrists unrelenting.
“louder,” he orders, hips snapping faster. “let everyone hear how much you like it.”
you can’t stop the moans spilling out anymore, can’t stop clenching around him as he fucks into you rough, relentless. he’s panting above you, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark. every thrust is punctuated with another taunt, another insult, until you’re half-delirious, clawing at his arms.
“look at you,” he growls, tugging your hair back so you have to meet his eyes. “fucking falling apart on my cock. bet you’ll think about this next time you’re trying to hate me.”
he’s right, and it pisses you off, but you’re too far gone to argue. pleasure coils tight, heat building until you’re crying out his name as you come, shaking under him. he fucks you through it, chasing his own high, and when he spills into you, it’s with a broken moan that you’ll never stop hearing in your head.
for a long moment, all you hear is your breathing, ragged and uneven. then he collapses beside you, chest still heaving, hair sticking up everywhere. silence stretches.
finally, he smirks, turning his head toward you. “see? told you i contribute.”
“you’re an asshole,” you mutter, pulling the blanket over yourself.
“yeah, but you like me around.” his voice is softer now, almost sincere. then he ruins it with a grin. “admit it.”
“never.”
he laughs, low and satisfied, before reaching over to tug you closer by the waist. “mm. we’ll see.”
jae's note ! hehe. the long awaited pt 2 to the previous sunghoon fic. hope it was worth the wait everyone!! and special thanks to @starboy-library for helping brainstorm ideas.
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