just fyi, fanfic culture is dying because people from tik tok (and most likely people who shouldn’t be on tumblr reading smut anyway) leave hate comments, harrass the writers, people call anyone writing fanfic that’s slightly dark rape apologists and pedophiles, people that enjoy the fics don’t comment, there’s no actual engagement…why would anyone want to write anything?
people write fanfic because it’s fun and they want to share it. tumblr community used to be a place where people would come in your inbox and talk about fic, your favorite characters. now you publish something with rough sex and people start calling you the most horrific names in existence.
at the same time, there are parts of tumblr that are getting so dark it scares me to even be on this website.
i just wanna have a pink page and talk about calling my fave fictional men daddy 😭 i’m in my twenties. i have a busy busy life. this is supposed to be a fun escape. content for adults by adults featuring adults.
the roommate of your best friend's boyfriend hears you gushing over Billy Loomis so he decides to turn one of your dirtiest fantasies into reality
✎… sub!reader, hard dom!jiseok, roleplay, mask kink, (consensual) unprotected sex, knife play, voice kink (jiseok uses voice changer device in the beginning), light fear play, degradation kink, begging, oral sex (m/f), face fucking, name calling (slut/whore), pet names, breath play, choking, overstimulation (f!rec), spit kink
( kinktober masterlist )
You shut the front door of your apartment complex and head towards the stairs. You just had dinner with friends, a much needed girls night, and now you're eager to get cosy in your bed with a binge worthy show.
This year you want to celebrate Halloween away from crowds, and the idea of entering your quiet home with all the snacks you bought on your way here has never excited you more.
You make out chatter coming from the upper floor. A group of kids are trick-or-treating and you hurry to hide the plastic bag with the goodies, but you quickly realise you only have the pockets of your jacket, already holding a wallet, your cellphone and a lip balm.
Unfortunately, you'll have to part with some of the candy bars and you just have to accept it.
To your surprise, the children run past you without even acknowledging your existence. They almost push you down the stairs, too excited and overwhelmed to comprehend their surroundings or watch where they're going in their colorful costumes. Their earsplitting hollering fades away as they reach the exit and you - the front door of your home. Except the sounds of your footsteps, the building turns completly silent again.
“Look who’s finally back.” A disturbing voice calls out behind you. “I was waiting for you.”
“Shit!” You yelp, bumping into the wall. “Who the—“
Your startled eyes meet a dark figure in a full Ghostface costume.
He's standing still as he places a finger in front of his hidden face and you obey - you don't utter another word. Instead, you silently observe the slow motions of his one hand holding a small white device.
He’s wearing black gloves just like the real Ghostface, and he changes his voice with the help of that small white device... just like the real Ghostface.
As real as that character can get.
“You’re supposed to scream later on when I rip your chest open, baby.”
The distorted voice sends more chills across your body and you feel yourself shivering in your dress despite the jacket on your shoulders.
“Who… who are you?” You focus your gaze upon the black and white mask in front of you.
Ghostface tilts his head to one side; you can’t tell if he’s picking his next words or if he’s offended that you don’t recognise his true identity.
With no rush in his actions he lifts the device again, asking:
“Who do you want me to be?”
His twisted tone comes out calm, arousing your curiosity with each question.
“Jooyeon, if this is one of your pranks again, I…”
“Jooyeon is not here.” The fearsome figure cuts you off. This time his words echo louder with slight frustration.
His black boots take a step forward, and you make a step back.
“You’re not gonna run away from me, are you Y/N?”
Hearing your name attached to his question brings a certain sense of relief. It’s somebody you know.
Not that it’s impossible for this to be a complete stranger who’s been stalking you for months and has finally decided to play his sick tricks on you. With social media nowadays…
He continues to get closer with the same slow pace and it seems that the fact you stopped moving at all pleases him.
“That’s right, you wouldn’t dare.” At once he stops, keeping the white device close to his face. “Hot and smart, I like it.”
He notices you’re concentrating on his silhouette. Your back is pressed against the wall, your eyes - focused and captivating, keep analysing every one of his moves.
He’s never seen you pay such close attention to anything before. When he heard you thirsting over Billy Loomis during your movie night two weekends ago he thought you were talking mainly about the actor, but looks like his friend Jooyeon was right when he said that more and more girls fantasise about being fucked by Ghostface.
You thought you were being very discreet with the way you were leaning towards your best friend in order to describe how badly you needed the killer, but he didn't miss out on even one perky smile of yours. He caught every word that came out of your lips while his eyes, too busy to stare at your streched bare legs that were softly illuminated from the screen, ignored half of the movie.
The more hours you spent at the apartment, the more parts of his mind you began to occupy - the way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you sit on his chair and cross your legs... This dirty little fantasy is just one of the many things that comes from you, and now lives permanently in his head - partly becoming a secret of his own too.
He knew he was damned the day he got introduced to you by his roommate.
“What’s that look on your pretty face?” He leans in a bit. “Want to feel my knife?”
While staying still, you let the sharp blade poke the corner of your mouth.
“Actually…” you speak up as the edge lightly traces your jaw. The thrill that shoots through your chest slows down your train of thought and the change in your voice makes you sound like you’re getting dizzy. “Can I feel your mask?”
Of course that's what has your attention.
He stills remembers the moment you said you'd let Skeet Ulrich fuck you with that freakin' mask on. “Didn't expect you to be that freaky,” he told you quietly, letting you know that he heard your confession. It seemed like you didn't really mind it that out of everyone there he was the one who caught you though.
Instead of blushing, or denying it, you just shifted to sit even closer to him.
“I know who you are.” Your lips turn up for a quick second as you get a little glimpse of his real dark brown eyes; your fingertips feel the outlines of the mask. “Jiseok.”
“Surprise, Y/N.” Jiseok exclaims with the classic Ghostface intonation.
The familiar smug laughter you’ve heard so many times slips through the mask, echoing in the hallway as you stare at him.
The adrenaline rush elevates in your veins now that you know it's him behind the costume. You haven't seen each other in a while and you try to compose yourself from the excitment you feel over the fact this is the first time you find yourself alone with him.
“Why did you sneak behind my back like that?”
“Oh, don’t tell me I scared you, pretty girl?” He coos, this time in his own deep voice that you've gotten very familiar with, but for some reason still gives you butterflies.
The knife appears in the air again, but this time it's guided towards your neck. The sudden movement makes you wince and Jiseok giggles, because he simply wants to flip your hair over your shoulder.
“Aren’t you gonna invite your favorite Ghostface for a drink?” He gestures passionately with knife in hand. “I came all the way here to pray on you.”
“You must be the most chatty Ghostface out there.” You grin as you unlock the door to your apartment. “Come in.”
Without taking off the mask, Jiseok observes around. He’s intrigued, but he’s going to ask for a tour another time.
“Who were you all dolled up in this pretty little dress for?” He asks, looking at your backless dress that’s hugging your ass perfectly. The view causes the excited tilt in his tone to slowly disappear, making his voice sound lower.
“My girlfriends,” you turn around, pleased to hear him being interested in that, “we had dinner together.”
“Where’s your costume? It's Halloween.”
“I’m not really into dressing up.” You reply as you put away your jacket. “Also, it was just a simple dinner to catch up. No partying this year for us.”
“Bummer, I thought you’re gonna be my Sidney tonight.” He gets closer and your ass bumps into the counter. As his eyes eat up the sight of your slightly exposed cleavage, the cold blade in his hand slides up your inner thigh. “Are you a virgin, Y/N?”
“No.”
He taps your skin with the knife a few times before speaking up next.
“Good.” He grins behind the hooded mask. “We can have fun together unless you want me to leave.”
You shake your head not taking your eyes off of him even for a second.
“I think I enjoy your company, Mr. Ghostface,” you say and your heartbeat quickens.
Your lips open wider when you feel three taps between your legs - each comes with a pause before the next, - right onto your panties; you feel a warm sensation spreading beneath them as you breathe deeply.
“You think? He repeats the word you chose with a certain suspicion in his tone. “I can help you make up your mind. You like being scared?”
“Why would I be scared of you?”
And as to prove that you want him your legs spread apart some more. As a result you sense the knife between them changing its direction; now it grazes the warm skin of your thigh again, gently, but sending strong shockwaves through your body.
“You don’t really know me, baby.”
He’s somewhat right about that.
You’ve never been left alone with him until now.
You’ve also never maintained longer conversation than just few messages, because one of you shared a relatable meme on your stories, or, because his roommate shared a funny group picture. Neither of you can deny it though - there's something in the air every time you're in the same room. There's a heady presence of passion and it was just a matter of time for both of you to give yourselves wholly to it.
“Let me get to know you then.” You grab a handful of the black fabric of his costume.
It’s almost as if that's the sign Jiseok has been waiting for.
Before you have time to realise what he could be up to, you hear a ripping noise from below.
“No, Jiseok, no!” You protest. “Don't!” But it’s too late.
The blade cuts through your dress and you watch Jiseok’s hands ripping it off all the way to your stomach.
You loved that dress, but damn was this hot…
“You’re crying over this little dress? You’re practically walking around naked, baby.” He says condescendingly as his palm squeezes your butt cheek before going back to your clothed folds. “You’re lucky that wasn’t your skin.”
“You’re really committed to the role, Jiseok.”
He doesn’t respond to that right away.
Remaining silent, he removes one of his black gloves and tosses it on the counter behind you where he left the knife earlier.
You’re already buzzing with delight before he’s even pulled your panties to the side. When his middle finger slips into your entrance with ease your face heats up - from how nice it feels to be touched by him and from the realisation of how wet you are already.
Just from flirting with him, and you can’t even see his face.
“Seems like you’re pretty into it,” he replies at once, inviting his finger deeper; rubbing against your gummy walls and getting familiar with how tight they are. The way you accept his touch so easily floods his veins with satisfaction. “How does a good girl like you end up fantasising about freaky shit like this?”
You shrug shoulders before a small moan slips from your tongue as adrenaline rush swirls inside you in the rhythm of his bare hand.
“It turns me on.”
Before you know it, Jiseok cuts open the rest of your dress, revealing your boobs in a lace bra which he immediately gets the urge to remove next. After spinning you around, he gets rid of your underwear with one swift cut too.
He slaps your ass firmly as his other hand yanks your head back by gripping the roots of your hair. You whimper from the sudden rough touch and the sound shoots pleasure straight into his core.
“You want me all over you like this?” Jiseok hisses at your ear. His hips press against your naked behind, wanting you to feel the effects you have on him.
“Yeah, I do,” you bite your lip as his spare hand, the one still covered by a black glove, gropes one of your breasts. “I want you a lot…” You mewl, trying to imagine the way his eyes shut from the way you rub your ass against him as an invitation.
“You better be nice to your favorite Ghostface, doll,” he threatens and you can hear the twisted grin in his erotic voice, “you know what happens to girls who don’t behave as they should.”
He smacks your ass one more time and tells you to run to the bedroom.
You’re waiting on your bed when he walks in.
The black robe is gone, but the Ghostface mask is still in tact. He’s in a pair of black jeans with no shirt on and you eat up the sight of his abs on display.
One hand is bare while the other - not. The one hidden by the black glove goes around your throat as you stick out your pink tongue to wet two of his naked fingers.
“Fuck, you’ll look so hot with my dick in your mouth.” He groans as you suck all the way to his knuckles. He loves how you’re constantly staring at him as if you worship him; even after he empties your mouth and slides his hand down your figure. “I’m gonna fuck you the way you deserve it, you know that, right, doll?”
You gasp when the same two fingers that you kissed so softly enter you at the same time. Quickly and smoothly, they speed up the pace, causing your head to threaten to fall back, but Jiseok's grip doesn't allow that.
“That means Ghostface is gonna fuck you like a whore.”
Both of you start to notice squelching noises as Jiseok's fingertips continue thrusting as he keeps them deep and curled up at a nice angle. Only until they pull out and lightly slap your thigh.
The sensation arised so quickly and intense that you weren’t aware that you still haven't given an answer. The realisation hits you once the clothed fingers around your neck squeeze for the first time since they got a hold of you.
“Ah, y-yes—“ Your mouth stays open as his grip doesn’t loosen up. “Yes, fuck me however you want,” the corners of your lips curl as you breathe through your mouth, “I'd love to be Ghostface's slut.”
Jiseok chuckles with his usual boyish laughter that always sounds so erotic even behind this mask.
He fills you up again without needing to look down at the way you arch your back, greedy to have him all the way in. He feels you wetting his palm more and more as you start to clench harder around his moving knuckles.
“Desperate, aren’t we?” He smirks as your whines rise higher. In response his fingers aim deeper, - if that's even possible, - rougher to the point your thighs begin to shake soon enough. “Gonna beg for it? Will you fuckin’ beg for my cock?”
Your one hand clasps around his arm, not fighting back any of this, just having the need to hold onto something, as the coming climax makes your mind spiral.
“Yes, yes, y-yes, please, give it to me—” you chant, feeling the rush finally overflow while also stealing your ability to say anything more.
Your breathing wasn’t as restricted as it could have been, but in addition to the sudden explosion of pleasure, it still made you feel a bit woozy.
You fall on your back, but Jiseok speaks out:
“Let me see you then.” He stands up and takes off his jeans in the meantime.
“Please,” kneeling at the centre of the bed you don't waste any time to obey his wish, “please, give me your cock, I want it so bad.”
Jiseok tilts his head; clearly not approving of that attempt. But he likes the way you move closer though, like you're chasing him.
“Please, Mr. Ghostface.” You stop at once and level your face with his crotch. “I don’t want to get punished,” you blink up innocently, making a pause, “or die.”
Your hand crawls up his thigh. His boner is tempting you, it’s so vivid and appealing. Twitching ever so slightly against your palm once you touch it for the first time. Wanting more, you lower your hand and run your tongue against it, really slowly so he can feel the thrill sneaking through the cotton fabric.
“Maybe I'll spare your life if you take it down your throat.” He groans as his hand pushes your face further into his boner. The way you humm softly as his length grinds against your features makes him almost want to throw away the mask so he can kiss you, but he resists. “How does that sound to you?” He lifts your chin up and feels an instant satisfaction once you open your mouth before he’s even asked.
He tugs down the waistband of his underwear and holds the base of his cock as you attach your tongue under his leaking tip. Not only the thrill from feeling you salivating for him spreads warmth underneath his skin, but also your hazed eyes that won't stop gazing up at his masked face.
“Feels nice, baby,” he utters as you suck half of his length slowly with hollowed cheeks and lips sliding steadily. “But you won't save your life if you keep licking like a kitten.”
You breathe in deeply before pushing yourself further, but Jiseok is already placing hands on the sides of your head to help out both of you.
“There you go”, he chuckles before groaning loudly, glancing down to see you motionless and slobbering around him. “This look fits you better.”
His cock glides back before it invades your tight throat again, then again, causing it to produce muffled mewls which vibrate against him delightfully.
Although his moaning can't be heard exactly the way you want, because of the hooded mask and the way his fingers press onto your ears to keep you steady, you can still tell his deep voice sounds very captivating in such intimate state.
The longer he fucks your mouth, the higher his moans elevate until they turn into one drawned out fuck as he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.
You sit down while coughing when you notice the swinging string of spit still connecting you to his cock. Jiseok breaks it off by laying on top of you, slowly stroking his slick length to maintain control over the rush.
If it was any other other day, he would probably have you doggy style. But it's not, so he slips into you in a missionary position, but far from a romantic one.
“Fuck, Jiseok—” you whine through hitched breaths. You don't know how every time you moan his name like that his insides swirl from pride and excitement. “God, I'm gonna cum—”
You feel like you're having a fever; like something inside you is about to explode in million pieces. Your thighs are sweating as his strong arms stay locked around your legs that hang over his shoulders.
Every time the head of his dick hits the desired spot as you try to keep blinking up at his mask you tense harder; more eagerly as you lose control over your voice that begins to quiver.
“You sound so pretty for me,” Jiseok mumbles under his breath. He does his best to not slow down the merciless pace of his hips so he can hear you crumble below him all over again. “Where's the magic word, huh? Can't even speak properly anymore, is that it...”
“Shit—“ you squeeze eyes, regaining composure as the knot in your tummy is seconds away from bursting. “Please,” your hands wrap around the sheets in desperation as you whisper, “please, let me cum, n-need it...”
“Gonna cum for Ghostface again, huh slut?”
He laughs after he hears your disjointed answer, but just a moment later, his own groans mix pleasantly with your overwhelmed cries.
He keeps your shaking legs as still as they can be while his eyes don't want to miss a single flinch of your uncontrollable squirming.
It's such a challenge not to cum too as you hold onto him so strongly, but he endures the bittersweet pain, because he wants to have his fun with you for a little bit longer. You've gotten so sensitive, and by the way you smile at him like you're getting high on all of this, he's positive you want to continue too.
“Told you to keep your mouth open for me, doll,” he reminds you with his voice turning more hoarse, more impatient too as he can't wait to fill it up with his arousal.
You part your lips while sensing every second of the way his restless thrusting creates that familiar knot of buzzing pleasure from the start, but way more luxurious and powerful than the previous.
“Let me see that cute tongue.” His hand moves to hug your neck the same moment your wobbly legs drop around his lower body. He wants to apply some force to hear your whimpers break as you cum around him one more time. “Yea, told you to do as I say, baby, didn't I? What if I grab my knife and fuck you with the handle instead? Would you like that?!”
“No,” you manage to respond as your dazed eyes, half-shut, roam around the close view of the unsettling mask, “your dick, p-please—” you were going to say something more than that, but the hand in black restricts more of your oxygen as you reach yet another unbelievable peak.
The moment Jiseok sees your eyes roll back, he lets go of your throat to let you take a needed breath while clenching around him like never before. His hips push into you almost leisurely now with the little amount of force he has left as you come down from the new high.
You’re both panting together; you from several intense orgasms, he - from all the energy he released on you, and from how little he needs in order to cum.
You're still processing it all when out of the blue Jiseok takes off the Ghostface mask and throws it on the floor.
For the first time tonight you see his face and your excited heart skips a beat.
You see his skin glistening from sweat, his black hair falling messily and sticking to his wet forehead. He quickly runs fingers through it to push his bangs away as he settles between your open legs.
Once he locks eyes with you, he doesn’t let go of that contact and neither do you.
His flat tongue licks up your folds slowly, earning a taste of the mixture you created from your own fluids, and you don’t know what was the last straw for your mind to shut off completely - his sparkling gaze lingering on your face or his mouth burying itself further into you. The tip of his tongue sneaks into your stretched entrance that’s still pulsing for him, eager to taste more of your sweet juices.
You moan softly at the gentle motions that toy with your sensitivity seconds before his lips detach.
“Fuck, this pussy just can’t get enough,” he murmurs against your warm flesh before sucking sensually on your swollen clit.
And oh how good his plump lips feel as he tugs on it while humming blissfully from your taste.
Your fingers go into his soft hair and pull more harshly than expected; it causes Jiseok to groan as he’s guiding his tongue through your slickness, slurping whatever he can before spitting it out onto your clit.
“Damn, baby girl, you look like you're out of your mind.” His husky whisper shoots a warm thrill through your core before he moves on his knees, watching in awe how you arch your spine at the sudden presence of his fingers.
He listens to the wet noises filling the room, blending with your heavy panting that's turning quicker as he pumps harder. He noticed which angle makes you louder, and he's fully focused on remaining there.
“I am! Fuck—” your body can't help but squrim out of control as the burning knot starts to pulse dangerously. Jiseok's spare hand presses down your tummy while the one busy with your g-spot maintains its sharp movements. “Jiseok—”
His name follows by a silent gasp and Jiseok glances up, distracted by a light pain for a second - your hand seized his arm and your nails marked his skin with a reddish line from the sudden quick gesture.
The way you cry out at the ceiling makes him instantly get a hold of his twitching cock. His fist twists around it gently as he massages your vulnerable walls till the rush inside you fades slightly.
Once your eyes meet, Jiseok quickens the hand around his length and crawls on top of you till he reaches your chest.
“I'm so thirsty,” you blink up at his hovering figure while your hands slide up his hips. The sounds of his fist are intense and lewd above you meanwhile your voice comes out delicate and tired. “For your cum… I wanna taste it so bad.”
The innocent ring in your tone is Jiseok's final breaking point.
“Give it to me.”
And as he gazes down at the way you stick out your tongue in anticipation, and at the way you tilt your chin up so his cum can freely go down your throat, he feels like he's out of his mind too.
! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed
⠀oct . 31th : ❛ thinking of him ❜
exes to lovers. phone sex, dirty talking, mutual masterbation, calls you ‘babe.’ | 830 words | kinktober m.list | MDNI
the silence was suffocating, the empty space beside you a harsh reminder of what you once had with him—memories flooding your mind, feelings pressing on your skin. even though you were the one to call it quits, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t regret it every single day.
so there you were, staring at his number on the screen of your phone. your heart beating fast in your chest as you pressed call.
“hello?” he said as he picked up the phone, you froze as the words got caught in your throat.
“uh, i— hi.” you said, “i’m sorry, you busy?” you asked finally, letting out a sigh and trying to relax.
“no, i can talk.” you went silent again, feeling stupid for not thinking your actions through. “you still there?”
“yeah, yeah. i just called cause,” you bit your lip, cursing in your head, “i kinda miss you, and…”
“kinda.” he repeated, as if the word itself hurt him.
“i do. i miss you, i’ve been thinking about you lots and i just miss how you made me feel…” the last words coming out more like a mumble than words. your cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“how i what?” he inquired, his tone low but curious.
“how you made me feel in bed.” you confessed finally.
“mhm, that’s what i thought.” he said more to himself than to you. “so what you want me to do?” there wasn’t rejection in his tone, but something else you couldn’t quite name.
“come over?”
“can’t, babe, i’m in another city.”
‘babe.’ echoed in your head, your chest tightening at the nickname, not realizing how much you had missed hearing that simple word.
“oh, that’s okay, forget it, it was stupid anyway.” he chuckled at the other side.
“there are other ways, you know?” he said as he let himself lay on the bed of his hotel room, getting more comfortable. “what you wearing, babe?”
“um… a shirt of yours.” you said timidly, biting your lip. “still smells like you.”
“you naughty little thing.” his words making you feel hot, your cheeks burning too. “leave it on then, yeah? take off the rest.” he instructed. you nodded, though he couldn’t see you.
he moved a bit to take his pants off the way too, his bulge beginning to grow in his boxers. “touch yourself for me, babe.” he said, his voice serious.
you followed his instructions, your hand sliding through your body and down your core, your fingers soaking as you went down your folds. his name came out of you as a whisper as you started playing with yourself, your digits rubbing around your clit slowly, your hips moving along with you as you tried to get more friction. your moans growing louder as you heard his voice at the other side of the line.
“spread your legs and pretend it’s me touching you, babe.” he said, his hand palming his dick through the fabric of his boxers, his precum leaving a wet stain on them. you did as he ordered and closed your eyes to imagine it was his fingers touching you instead, or even better, his head between your thighs instead.
“ow, i wished you were here.” you whined as you stimulated your clit, the friction of your digits around it making you wetter and eager for more. “need you so bad.”
“mm babe, wished i had my tongue on your right now.” he groaned back as he heard the wet sounds you made. his thumb teased his tip as his hips thrusted up into his hand. “and feel how wet you are for me, taste you and make you cum over and over again just with my mouth, mmm i miss that so much.” his head felt back in arousal, his thoughts driving him insane.
“please…” you panted, the image of his head buried in your pussy, causing you to arch your back in pleasure, your fingers moving faster around your clit as you felt your stomach tense. panting and calling out his name as you felt close to your orgasm.
“you gonna cum for me, babe?” you nodded in response but he knew by the way your voice grew desperate that you were. “imagine you cum all over my mouth, yeah? wanna taste you all, hear you moan my name like that, have your hands pulling my hair and have your body squirming just for me..”
“fuck—” his words making you blush—and cum. your legs shaking as you felt your high run through you. taking you a while to catch your breath again. you heard as he kept on stroking himself to the sound of your orgasm, reaching his own soon after. his groans causing you to rub your thighs together as you felt turned on all over again.
“oh fuck, how i missed cumming to you.” he moaned as he recovered, his voice a little rougher than before. “can’t wait to go back home.”
i miss it over here.......i have just been lacking motivation and for that i apologize. going to try to get that jake birthday special posted on his birthday if i have the time. i willlll try!!!! 🙂↕️🙂↕️
ii. GENRE — porn with plot, near future / dystopian au.
iii. SYNOPSIS — in a near-future society, your fertility has a deadline—and your government-assigned mate is a complete stranger. with one week to comply, you must live as a married couple, navigating intimacy, desire, and forbidden pleasure… all while pretending it’s just for the contract.
iv. WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL , mdni, smut, impregnation implications, voyeurism, sleepy sex, drugs / fertility enhancement tablets, unprotected sex, creampie, playing house but forced to, shower sex, blowjob, oral (both male & female), dirty talk, power imbalance, teasing, breast play, nipple teasing, eating out, dubious consent, cockwarming, squirting, lmk if more.
v. WORD COUNT — 6.7K — OCTOBER 5TH
“So… we’re assigned mates? Your contract’s about to expire too?” Heeseung—the name he at least claimed was his—spoke up as he glanced between you and the bed. The bed was shoved awkwardly into the sterile lab room, with a pathetic vase of flowers on the nightstand. A fake attempt at making the lab look like a cozy home.
“I guess so…” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck. Your eyes flicked to the glass wall, where machines beeped rhythmically like they were mocking you. Honestly—how the hell was this supposed to be romantic enough to fuck in?
The rule was bizarre, but in the year 3000’s, everyone got slapped with a fertility expiration date. And with humans dwindling while robots ran most of the world, the government made sure no one wasted their fertility. You had to breed before your “deadline,” and until then, live like a married couple. A shiny little “family unit.” Apparently that was how humanity would cling to survival amidst the hum of robots sweeping streets and making lattes.
And you, being the shy—or let’s be honest, lazy-ass you were, never bothered to step outside. Why would you, when your robo-assistant Zozo was perfectly capable of fetching groceries, yelling at delivery drones, or dealing with annoying neighbors? So when the government officer came knocking while you were sprawled on the couch debating which show to binge next, Zozo had opened the door and accepted the letter with zero hesitation. You tried to ignore it, even as your stomach dropped reading the fine print.
But ignoring the government is basically an Olympic-level mistake. A few hours later, you were dragged into this lab, now forced to play house with a stranger who was—surprise—the father of your potential baby. Like, how did you go from lazy naps and snack runs to this? From half-asleep binge-watching to congratulations, you’re in a breeding contract.
You sighed, side-eyeing Heeseung who was awkwardly fidgeting with the corner of the sterile blanket. He didn’t look much happier. At least that made two of you.
And, okay, sure—you’d seen robo-dogs on the streets going at it like they were programmed for porn, so it’s not like you were completely clueless about the act. But this wasn’t just sex. It was a performance. Roleplay. Pretending to be a couple. A married couple. And if you two didn’t produce results? The fine would be so massive your descendants would still be paying it off centuries later.
Talk about pressure.
⪩⪨
“Umm… so?” he speaks up as he steps into the shower, clearly waiting for you to follow. Well, this is awkward—an attempt at getting used to intimacy when neither of you have the faintest idea how to start.
“So?” you echo, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. But your eyes betray you, following the trail of water as it slides down his bare chest, glistening under the harsh bathroom light, then disappearing somewhere past his v-line and below. This is the first time you’ve ever been this close to a guy—like, this close—and you’re willing to bet it’s the same for him.
“You’re… showering in that?” he asks, voice hesitant, like he can’t tell if the question is rude or just dumb. The poor guy is clearly just as inexperienced as you.
You glance down at yourself and realize, oh right, you’re still fully clothed. Top and jeans. Jeans in the shower—how chic. “Umm… I forgot,” you mutter, laughing awkwardly before tugging your shirt over your head. Your plain black sports bra clings damp against your skin. His gaze lingers a little too long on your chest—long enough for you to wonder if he’s captivated, silently judging the size, or just zoning out like an idiot.
“Can you not look?” you mutter sharply.
“Uh—yeah, sure.” His voice cracks, embarrassed, and he whips around so fast to face the wall that water splashes up. You quickly peel off your jeans, now left standing in your bra and underwear, the steam curling around you both.
For a while, neither of you do anything but stand there, the water falling between your bodies while you try not to combust from sheer awkwardness. Yet you can’t help stealing glances at his back. It’s more toned than you expected, the kind of back you want to trace your fingers along without thinking. And then there’s the way the water darkens his hair, dripping down his shoulders.
You curse yourself for remembering that one accidental peek you’d taken when you first stepped in—the way his boxers clung to whatever he was hiding beneath. It’s… a lot. Too hot. Hot enough to almost make you forget this is government-mandated breeding prep and not… something else.
“Are you done?” he asks finally, still facing the wall like his life depends on it.
“Yeah, you can turn around now.” Your voice comes out a little weaker than intended. He turns, his expression neutral, and quietly reaches for the soap.
He scrubs himself with slow, methodical movements, completely ignoring your eyes burning holes into him—until he finally speaks. “If you keep staring like that,” he says, raising a brow without looking directly at you, “I can’t promise I’ll keep being so respectful. Wouldn’t really be fair, would it?”
You snap your gaze away so fast you nearly slip. “I just zoned out.”
“Mhm.” He hums, low and unconvinced, before continuing to lather up. He doesn’t hand you the soap, though—just keeps working it over himself like he hasn’t caught the hint at all.
“What do you do, Heeseung? For a living?” you ask quietly, already knowing how offensive that question can sound in today’s world, where robots basically rule everything.
“I… train robo dogs,” he mutters, almost shyly, as his hand works the soap over his stomach. When his fingers slip lower, your eyes flick down for a second before darting away in a rush of heat.
“Oh, that’s nice.” You reply too quickly, trying to sound casual when your face is burning. “I work at home… finding mistakes made by robos on popular websites.”
“So, basically unemployed?” he teases, finally loosening up enough to smirk at you. The smell of soap and the steam between you almost make the moment feel… normal. Domestic. Like you’re not two virgins being forced to learn how to fuck for the sake of humanity.
“Hey! Don’t say that!” you swat at his arm, laughing along even though you hate admitting he’s right. Like 96% of the population, you’re jobless. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question at all.
But then you feel it—his arm circling your waist and yanking you back until you’re flush against his chest. The way his breath ghosts over your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and the thick, unmistakable press of his cock through his wet boxers makes your pussy clench instinctively.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, “you don’t have to feel bad. It’s not your fault the robots are taking everything.”
You nod, but your body betrays you. Your head tips back against his shoulder, lips parting as a small gasp slips out. His soapy hand slides from your stomach to the underside of your bra, fingertips clumsy as they push under the wet fabric and rub over your breasts. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, his touches too curious, too experimental—like he’s trying to figure out what your nipples even are—but it has your cunt throbbing all the same.
“Heeseung…” you moan, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it.
“Just… cleaning you up,” he whispers, but the way his cock is rock hard and digging against your ass tells you otherwise.
“Please just—ahh—” your voice breaks into another moan as he shoves your bra up, not even bothering to remove it, letting your tits spill out for him to knead. The cold water pouring over you makes the contrast of his hands even more intense.
His palms squeeze your breasts like stress balls, thumbs brushing soap slick over your hardened nipples, and you swear you’ll melt right there. “H-Heeseung…” you whimper, a shaky moan tearing from your throat when his other hand slips lower, tugging your panties to the side. You’re embarrassingly wet already, your pussy aching for something, anything, even if it’s not the official “breeding time.”
He leans down, his lips brushing yours, and before you can think, he kisses you—soft, sloppy, uncertain, but desperate. His hand still tugs and pinches at your nipple, and you moan into his mouth, the sound muffled as your tongue brushes his.
“Do you want to… keep on practicing?” he asks against your lips, his voice low, unsteady, but hungry. The way you look up at him, breathless and wide-eyed, says everything your words can’t.
You moan instead, sliding your hand between your wet bodies until your palm cups the thick length straining against his boxers. The groan that rips out of him makes your pussy gush. If sex is really going to feel this good—if his cock filling you will make you feel half as powerful as this moment does—you curse yourself for wasting so many years hiding from it.
Now all you have is Heeseung. And the way his lips part, eyes shut tight as your hand rubs him, his grip on your waist faltering—fuck, you smirk against his mouth. Because you love knowing you have that kind of effect on him.
“Can I… touch you more?” you whisper, voice uncertain but desperate, like you’re asking for something forbidden even though that’s literally the point of this whole set-up. For a second you almost forget this is all arranged—just a breeding contract. A week-long roleplay to make sure humanity doesn’t go extinct.
He doesn’t trust his voice, so he just nods, too breathless to say a word.
Your hand slips inside his soaked boxers, finally wrapping around his cock skin-to-skin. The moment you touch him properly, he groans—deep and guttural—his chest heaving as water streams down his face. He has never felt anything like it, and neither have you, but instinct is doing all the work. Your palm knows where to squeeze, how to move, even if no manual has ever explained how to handle cock.
It throbs heavy and hot in your grip, veins pulsing against your hand. Precum slicks your fingers even through the shower spray. His shaky hand reaches down and shoves his boxers off his hips, and your movements falter, because suddenly it isn’t just something hidden under fabric—it’s there, right in front of you.
You let your hand fall away just to look. His cock springs free, flushed pink at the tip, glistening with beads of precum that mix with the shower water. Thick, hard, longer than you expect, curved just slightly upward—it’s fucking beautiful. You glance up at him, but his eyes are squeezed shut, lost in sensation.
You don’t know what comes over you. Maybe curiosity. Maybe hunger. Maybe both. Your thumb brushes over the leaking slit, smearing precum over the swollen head. He shudders hard, muscles twitching under your touch. Then, with an impulsive grin, you bring your thumb to your lips and lick it clean.
“It’s salty…” you murmur, licking your lips slowly. The taste is raw, musky, addictive. You want more. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you sink to your knees under the spray, face tilted up to him as your tongue flicks experimentally at his tip.
His eyes snap open wide, panic and arousal clashing. He grabs his cock like he’s about to shield it from you. “N-No, no, don’t do that—” he stammers, his voice breaking.
“Why not?” you ask innocently, breath ghosting over his shaft as your lips hover close.
“Isn’t it… dirty?” he whispers, chewing his lip, like he can’t decide if he wants to pull you back or push you further.
You smirk up at him, hair plastered wet against your cheeks from the shower. “No. I like it. Can I have it back?”
His cock twitches visibly at your words. He groans low, like he’s fighting with himself, but gives in—grabbing your hand and wrapping it back around his length before letting go again, as if surrendering.
You lick your lips and kiss the swollen tip reverently. “This is so pretty, I swear,” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at his flushed dick like it’s art.
“It’s not,” he mutters immediately, embarrassed, his teeth grit as his chest rises and falls like he’s just run a marathon.
Before he can defend his poor cock, you graze your teeth lightly over the head. His reaction is immediate: a strangled yelp that echoes against the tile. “NO TEETH, PLEASE! IT’S NOT FOOD—”
You giggle, lips brushing against the head of his cock. “You’re right… it’s not food. But it’s a snack.”
He groans so loud it shakes you, his knees buckling slightly. Your mouth wraps around him at last, hot and wet and clumsy, tongue swirling against the sensitive underside. The taste of his precum mixes with water, salty but not bad, almost intoxicating.
He sucks in a sharp breath, a moan spilling out of him as his hand instinctively buries in your wet hair. When you look up, his eyes are half-lidded, lips parted in awe. His cock twitches in your mouth as your tongue flicks over the treat again.
When his fingers tighten in your hair, you nearly whine at the sensation—because the look on his face is pure, overwhelmed pleasure. The sound of his low, desperate groan as he guides your head just slightly has your pussy clenching so hard you think your cunt will start dripping down your thighs.
It’s messy, hot, completely new for both of you. But with his cock heavy on your tongue, his voice breaking as he moans your name, and his eyes locked on you—fuck, it’s perfect.
You dive down to take him deeper, swallowing his length until it presses against your throat. The stretch makes your eyes water, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth as you bob your head faster, sucking greedily. The gag hits you, sharp and messy, but you don’t stop—if anything, the slight burn only drives you harder, your throat tightening around him. Heeseung’s breath stutters, his hips twitching helplessly as his cock pulses inside your mouth.
You don’t know what the sudden swell against your tongue means, only that it makes him groan brokenly, almost too loud under the hiss of the shower. You pull back with a wet pop, gasping, lips swollen and slick, confusion flickering across your face.
“What’s happenin—”
The question never finishes. Hot, sticky spurts shoot across your face, catching you off guard as you shut your eyes. Thick, white ropes cover your cheeks, your lips, dripping down your neck and chest before the shower water thins it, streams of cum and water sliding down your skin in a messy contrast.
You freeze, stunned, before blinking up at him through the droplets. Heeseung’s chest is heaving, his hand still tangled in your hair as if he lost control of himself completely. Relief is written all over him, his face flushed, but there’s shame too, creeping into his gaze as he realizes what he’s just done.
Your eyes drop to his cock again—still flushed, twitching, glistening under the spray, streaks of the same milky liquid clinging to it before the water washes it away. Your lips part in disbelief as you whisper, voice shaking, “That… that came from your cock?”
Heeseung swallows hard, too breathless to defend himself, and just gives a shaky nod.
Neither of you understand it—this raw, messy reaction, this proof of something more—but the hunger twisting in your chest is undeniable. And as the salty taste lingers on your tongue and your skin, you know one thing for certain.
You’re addicted.
⪩⪨
And the second day with him feels even stranger—stranger, but addicting. Both of you are already drowning in this whole thing about the fertility expiration date, the so-called breeding contract. You’re pretty sure the government officials would’ve happily stamped a certificate, binding you both together officially. It should feel wrong, clinical, but with how real everything’s gotten… it doesn’t.
“What are you making, wifey?” Heeseung’s voice breaks the silence as he walks out of the nightly shower, towel slung low on his hips, droplets sliding down his chest. The sight alone pulls you back to last night—the cock you’d touched, sucked, swallowed. The salty, musky taste of him still feels fresh on your tongue. Water cascading down his abs, the way his body shuddered under your mouth—“I asked what you were making, wifey.” He’s right beside you now, waving a hand in front of your dazed face.
“Fried rice… that’s all I can make.” You joke, but it’s the truth, your voice shaky as you snap back from your thoughts. Except he doesn’t look all that present either, his eyes heavy, his expression unreadable.
Then he’s behind you, close—too close. Heat radiates off his damp skin as you stir the rice, and you nearly drop the spatula when his hand cups your ass, firm and greedy. A gasp rips from you when his fingers slide between your thighs, brushing your slick folds, spreading the wetness you’d never dared touch yourself.
“Hee—” His name spills from your lips, cut into a moan when his finger glides up your slit, pressing right where it makes your knees weak. “Ahh…” Your head drops helplessly against his shoulder, his breath warm as he leans in, tongue flicking against the shell of your ear.
“Don’t you think…” his words vibrate low, sinful, “…we should at least enjoy ourselves a bit before ‘The Day’? Hm?”
Your body betrays you, pressing back against him, desperate. The spatula trembles in your hand, rice forgotten, brain fried worse than the pan. But then, just as you’re about to melt, he pulls away. His lips brush your ear, whispering smugly, “Focus on the fried rice. Can’t compromise on dinner, right, sweetheart?”
You don’t know when he got this bold—maybe last night broke something open in both of you. All you know is that you like it. Too much.
“Heeseung…” Your voice cracks on his name, shame mixing with hunger. “Can you… touch me again? It felt so good… we-we can enjoy all we want.” The words tumble out, raw and desperate, and you cringe at how needy you sound—yet you can’t stop yourself.
His smirk is audible in the way he breathes against your neck. “Of course. I owe you after yesterday, don’t I?” His lips press against your skin, just below your ear, and your moan betrays you instantly. His hands wander lower again, teasing, claiming, but every time you falter at stirring the rice, he pulls back, leaving you whining at the loss.
It’s a cruel game. A dangerous one. And you’re hooked.
“shh… if you want it, just keep working on our dinner, mm?” His voice dips low, his breath ghosting against your ear as one of his hands slides directly beneath your panties, cupping the soaked heat between your thighs. The other hand pushes your top upward until it bunches around your chest, and with a deft flick, your bra unclasps. You gasp, heart racing, realizing he learned the trick from last night’s shower.
“i-i understand.” you mumble, your words shaky, tears of embarrassment stinging your lashes as your body betrays you, moaning when his palm squeezes your bare breast. You clutch the spatula tighter, trying to keep stirring the rice, but your arms tremble as he plays with your body, shamelessly drawing out every sound you try to hide. The scent of garlic and spices mixes with the heady, unmistakable scent of your arousal, thick in the air. Heeseung inhales deeply behind you, lips curling into a grin.
“smells good… eating it after we enjoy would be even better, no?” His tone is casual, almost mocking, as if fingering you while you cook is the most normal thing in the world. Just as you suck in a breath to respond, his finger presses against your slick entrance, circling teasingly before slipping inside with a slow push. You choke on a gasp, hips twitching as the thick digit sinks into your tight heat, nudging against tender, gummy walls that hug him greedily.
A low sound leaves him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he feels your warmth around him. “Fuck… you’re so tight. Just my finger and you’re squeezing like this…” His words stir the heat pooling in your stomach. He moves it inside you, testing, curling upward slightly, brushing something that makes your knees buckle.
“Heeseung—” your breathy moan escapes without restraint.
“Shh, it’s okay…” His lips press at your temple, soft, almost tender, while his hand leaves your breast only to flick the stove off with a practiced motion. The rice sizzles one last time before silence falls, leaving only the sound of your shallow breaths and his finger plunging wetly into you.
Then suddenly, he pulls out. You whine at the emptiness, thighs quivering, but he doesn’t let you fall apart there. He turns you around, guiding you gently until your back is pressed against the counter. Your sweatpants are tugged down to your knees, messy and damp from the arousal staining them. Your breasts spill forward, nipples flushed and needy.
“Heeseung…” You say his name like a plea, chest heaving, shame and desire battling in your eyes.
Heeseung looks down at you, his boldness from moments ago flickering into something almost shy, almost boyish. His gaze lingers on your trembling thighs, the wetness dripping from your slit, before he raises his eyes back to yours. His voice is soft, hesitant, but laced with hunger.
“Let me… return yesterday’s favor.”
And without a word he sinks down to his knees, as if duty-bound to fulfill what being your breeding mate meant. The air leaves your lungs in a sharp gasp the moment his mouth latches onto your soaked folds, his tongue already tasting you, suckling at your core like he’s been starving for you.
“Oh—fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as his mouth works between your legs, his tongue slipping and flicking against every sensitive part it can find. The wet, obscene slurping sounds echo in the kitchen, louder than the soft hum of the cooling stove. The way his tongue dives deeper and deeper, teasing you, even circling before trapping your swollen little bud between his lips.
“Ahhh—Hee—fuck—” your moan cracks as your knees threaten to buckle, and you grab the counter for balance, your free hand gripping his hair like a lifeline.
“Like it?” he murmurs against your cunt, lips brushing your clit, voice vibrating against your folds—sending shockwaves through your whole body.
“So much, so fucking much,” you pant out, tugging at his hair harder, grounding yourself against the overwhelming sensation of his tongue exploring places you never even thought were reachable.
“Mmhh—” he hums, sucking harder, his hands holding your thighs apart as if to cage you there, rubbing your lower stomach like he knows something’s building inside you. The pressure makes you dizzy, your muscles clenching, your core tightening uncontrollably.
“Wait—stop, I feel like I’m… gonna—piss,” you whimper, tugging at his hair to make him stop, but he only groans and pins you harder against the counter, tongue delving in even deeper.
The cry that rips out of you is helpless, raw, trembling, “HEESEUN—GHAHHHH!” as your body jerks violently, liquid spilling from your cunt, dribbling down your thighs, coating his tongue, his lips, his chin.
He doesn’t stop—he fucking drinks it in, swallowing, slurping like it’s everything he’s ever wanted.
When he finally pulls back, his lips and chin glisten with wetness, strands of your slick shining over his mouth. Your face burns with embarrassment, heart pounding.
“Heeseung…” your voice trembles, mortified.
“You did this,” he murmurs, smirking faintly, wiping nothing away—almost proud to wear you like this. “Why’re you getting so shy now?” His voice is low, teasing, but his own cheeks are flushed as if he’s losing control too.
He rises to his feet, closing the distance until his hands cradle your face, and before you can answer, his mouth claims yours.
The kiss is messy, deep, his tongue sliding against yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, the musky, salty-sweet flavor mingling with the heat of his mouth. Dirty. Intoxicating. The thought that you’re tongue-kissing the same mouth that was just devouring your pussy should disgust you—but instead it makes you moan, arching closer, needing more.
Your fingers grip his shoulders desperately, ready to climb him, ready for more, when he suddenly pulls back, panting. His forehead presses against yours, his eyes dark, burning, but flickering with restraint.
“I—We should eat dinner,” he murmurs, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as though he’s choking back desire. “If we don’t stop now, I don’t think either of us will…”
His voice trails, his jaw tightening, and the way he looks at you—hungry, guilty, desperate—you know he’s right. Still, you can’t stop the way your body aches for more, already addicted.
You just nod, breathless, even as your lips tingle from his kiss, even as your thighs tremble from what he just made you feel.
⪩⪨
The days ahead pass in a haze of exhaustion. The tablets the helper-robos keep giving—supposedly to boost stamina and fertility before the expiration date—do nothing but drag you both down into constant drowsiness. You feel sluggish, heavy-limbed, and so does he.
“Hee…” you call out softly, voice almost drowned by the silence of the room as you lay curled on your side. The bed is warm, too warm, and the setup is so real, so home-like, that sometimes you forget you’re in nothing but a lab—a carefully constructed stage meant to look like a house, a controlled mating ground for humans.
“Mm?” he hums back, voice thick with sleep. His arm is already reaching around your waist, palm lazily tracing circles against your stomach. His touch is slow, unhurried, and even in your drained state, it makes you melt closer to him. The blanket shifts as he tugs it tighter around the two of you, cocooning you together.
“Don’t you feel tired…? I swear the tablets have something to do with this…” you murmur, eyes heavy as you press your forehead into his chest. He hums again, the sound low, reassuring, and kisses the top of your head. The simple gesture stirs something deep in your chest, not sexual—just a strange, foreign warmth you can’t name.
“I feel like that too… but maybe it’s not bad,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. “We get to rest before the big day.” His arms tighten around you, his lips brushing against your hair, and the closeness makes your heart race even more.
“True…” you whisper back, though the thought only makes your stomach twist. The idea of him finally ending up bonded to you forever—sealed, unchangeable—sends your pulse spiraling.
“Do you regret it?” you ask quietly, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt, gripping like you’re bracing for a blow. “Like… do you wish it was someone else?”
His chest rises beneath your cheek, and then he answers, soft but steady. “No. Definitely not.”
You exhale shakily, relief washing over you like warmth after a chill. He shifts, rocking you slightly in his hold, and the gentle sway lulls you further. Your eyes flutter shut despite yourself, exhaustion tugging hard.
“Good,” you mumble, your words slurring into a yawn. His chest rumbles with a stifled laugh—careful, quiet, as if he’s afraid to wake you. Soon his movements slow, stilling completely, and with you curled tightly against him, both of you sink into sleep almost instantly.
⪩⪨
The robo beeps as the government officers run the analysis of their relationship on a monitor. At least they’re decent enough not to watch them go at it—oral or otherwise. Honestly, the robots seem to have more humanity than the humans in charge.
“But their relationship doesn’t seem genuine according to this article on human connections in the 2720s,” the robot pipes up, printing out the dusty old document almost immediately. The words flash across the paper, outdated theories that make no sense when matched with the sounds the two of them have been making almost every other night since they were placed together. Noises that had gotten loud enough for the officials to drug them just to slow things down.
“We can’t rely on old articles. Not right now,” the officer mutters, shutting down the live camera feed that showed the humans inside the mock-home setup. His tone is clipped, tired, like he doesn’t want to deal with it.
The helper robo tilts his head, a mechanical sigh almost leaving him before he shakes it off. “Why bother helping when those bastards don’t even need it,” he grumbles, following the officer out of the room.
After all, tomorrow is the final day before their fertility expiration date. And the others have already prepared everything they’ll need.
⪩⪨
You yawn as you wake, stretching your arms above your head—only to find you can’t move. It takes you a moment to realize why. Heeseung’s arm is still looped around your waist. By the time he finally stirs and pulls back, sitting up, the air feels noticeably colder. Without thinking, he dives straight back under the covers, wrapping himself around you beneath the heavy blanket.
“Too cold, too cold,” he mutters through gritted teeth. His body trembles against yours, and instinctively, you shove your feet back under the blanket too after testing the icy air outside for just a second.
“Did the temperature suddenly drop?” you shiver, pressing closer to him for warmth. That’s when you feel it—his bulge, hard against your thigh.
Your breath hitches. “Why are you hard?” The words slip out before you can stop them, awkward and quiet, as you try to shift just enough distance between you in case it sets him off.
“What do you mean, why?” Heeseung mumbles with a shrug, completely unbothered. “I get this every time I wake up.” Then, seeing the way you go silent, lost in thought, he adds quickly, “But don’t think too much. We don’t have to do anything if you’d rather wait until night.”
You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip before whispering, “N-no… I mean… a little practice before the actual process wouldn’t hurt, right?”
His eyes widen, shock flickering before his lips curl into a slow smile. The officials’ forced temperature drop is long forgotten as you push your panties down, sliding them off. Heeseung doesn’t waste a second—his boxers end up on the floor beside your panties, leaving nothing between you anymore.
Your upper bodies stayed hidden under the blanket, but your lower halves were already speaking a language of their own. You hooked one leg over his hip, opening yourself for him, and Heeseung’s hand immediately wrapped around his cock. The blanket muffled the sight, but you felt every second of it—the head nudging against your folds, still dry until he pressed harder. Wetness bloomed instantly, coating you in slick warmth as he rubbed himself against your slit.
A broken moan escaped you, and he swallowed it in a kiss. You barely noticed when he shifted lower, sliding the tip between your folds, teasing that sensitive bundle of nerves—the very same spot he’d played with that night while you’d been making fried rice. And then he pushed. Hard. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, but his mouth captured yours, muffling the sound, calming you down even as your body jolted.
He groaned against your lips. “God, so tight.” Your walls clung to him, greedy, swallowing inch after inch of his cock like they’d never let go. You trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the texture of his thick length, every ridge and vein dragging against you.
Your eyes rolled back as your body adjusted, the stretch almost unbearable. He stilled, hovering, his forehead pressed to yours as he whispered, voice low and careful, “Should I give more?” His lips brushed yours in a tender kiss, at odds with the way he filled you.
You squirmed helplessly beneath him, body caught between resistance and desperate want. It hurt—yes—but it felt so good you almost hated yourself for liking it this much.
“Ahhh—” you bury your face into his chest, shivering as he rubs your back, one hand sliding lower to part your ass cheeks. His coarse pubic hairs brush against yours, and you know you’re in heaven just from the friction, the closeness.
“Oh god…” you moan, a tear slipping down your cheek as he starts to move, nudging against your walls. “It’s too good… too good.”
“I know… shh…” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers graze your hard bud, flicking and rubbing your clit between your legs, and you shiver with every brush. He hits a spot inside you you didn’t even know existed, sending tremors up your spine.
Before you even notice, sleep drags you under again, pressed against his chest. The tablets are hitting harder than before, and he—already drained from the night—is dozing too, quietly, yet his hand remains wrapped around you, fingers caressing your hair. His cock pulses lazily inside you, still hard, a slow reminder of what you’ve shared.
Neither of you gets to cum. Not yet. The robots arrive, silently entering to re-decorate the room for the night, ignoring the way the two of you are tangled together like an actual married couple, lost in warmth, wetness, and the closeness only you two can share.
⪩⪨
When you wake up, it’s night. Heeseung is sprawled across the bed, completely naked, the blanket long gone from over your bodies. The dim lights and the faint scent of roses fill the room, creating a staged intimacy that screams final breeding night. Your stomach twists with heat and self-consciousness as your eyes take him in—every line of his muscles defined in the soft glow, the way his chest rises and falls slowly, the way his cock rests low and exposed, just waiting.
“Hee… wake up,” you whisper, rolling onto his side and nudging him gently. He doesn’t stir. Your hand slides lower, brushing against the softened length of his cock—and to your shock, it stiffens instantly in your palm. Your fingers wrap around him, rubbing along the slick shaft, feeling the heat, the pulse, the way he’s so alive beneath your touch.
Heeseung stirs, eyes half-open, still lost in the fog of sleep. Boldness courses through you, and you start stroking him thoroughly, biting your lip as your own audacity surprises you.
“S-stop…” he murmurs sleepily, voice rough, half-lidded eyes fixing on you. His hand pushes your palm away, but instead of letting go, he pins you gently to the bed. His cock presses against your stomach, tip glistening with precum, and you shiver from the warmth and pressure.
“How did we even fall asleep?” you murmur, shivering as he leans down and plants a teasing kiss on your neck. His mouth starts suckling, teeth grazing lightly over your skin, and a moan escapes you before you even register it.
“W-why does it feel soo good?” you breathe, voice trembling. His lips and tongue are consuming you, sending shivers down your spine, teasing you so exquisitely that your own body reacts without thought.
“Don’t ask questions. Just feel… we need to finish why we’re here, right? So we can go out and raise our baby,” he whispers against your neck, and your face melts into his hair, overwhelmed. You’re so lost in him that you don’t even notice when his tip presses and slides against your folds, gliding perfectly over your wet, slick skin.
You wrap your legs around his waist almost instinctively, every nerve in your body on fire. You don’t know where you learned this, but it feels right. This fertility expiration, this ridiculous breeding contract—it’s finally ending, and Heeseung is the only one who could make it feel like this.
“You really wanna raise the baby togeth—aghh!” A moan rips from your chest as he slips inside you effortlessly. Your body trembles at the stretch, chest heaving, eyes wide as you feel him fully—every inch of his thick, veiny cock filling you. God, it’s too good. How could something feel this right? You had no regrets about coming here, even if it had been forced.
When he moves, it’s like you’re falling straight into heaven. “Oh my… oh my god… ahhhh…” you gasp, gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself as every thrust presses him deeper, pushing all your limits of pleasure.
“Shh… gently… I’ll go gentle.” And he does. Heeseung starts slow, bottoming out fully, checking in with soft murmurs. But soon, the tempo builds, and he’s plunging deeper, too deep for your brain to catch up. Your body reacts before your mind, muscles clenching, and you can’t stop the first squirting eruption that floods against his pulsing cock.
Your eyes lock with his—burning with embarrassment—but he’s unfazed, so present, so attentive. God, what a man. And then he hits that same spot again, and your second gush coats him, your palm flying to your face, cheeks flaming. Minutes pass in a blur of trembling, slick, overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes roll back as you come hard, walls squeezing him like they never could before, every shudder wringing a guttural curse from his lips.
“Fuck… too tight…” he groans, cock pulsing violently inside you. Before either of you can process it, he erupts—hot, thick, sticky—filling you completely.
“I—” you start, but he pins you gently, eyes fluttering as his release surges. “J-just take all of my seeds…” His chest heaves on yours, some of it dribbling down your slit, proof of how much he’s given. It’s like he poured out weeks of stored need into you.
“Enough to make another human in the community?” he gasps, breathless, thumb brushing away a stray tear of pleasure from your cheek. His head rests against your chest, listening to your rapid heartbeat.
“Those tablets by robos better work,” you whisper, arm wrapping around his waist as you gently shift atop him. His cock still pulses inside you, leaking little drops, making you laugh and moan all at once. Every inch of you is slick, spent, alive—and you can’t imagine ever feeling this way with anyone else.
⪩⪨
“This one’s complete. Who’s the next pair for the human breeding contract?” the government officer asked, his voice flat but his eyes lingering on the glowing monitor. The feed showed the two of you tangled together in the aftermath—naked, bodies spent, still joined at the hips as though refusing separation even in sleep. For a moment, the officer simply stared, a flicker of discomfort crossing his otherwise stoic face before he looked back at the machine beside him.
The robot’s optical sensors whirred as it adjusted the angle, zooming in without hesitation on the mess between your thighs, where Heeseung’s cock remained buried inside you, a faint spill of his cum already leaking past your swollen folds. It held there for a beat, scanning, before its voice rang metallic and certain. “Based on the administered fertility tablets, probability of conception is at one hundred percent. The female has been successfully bred.”
The officer exhaled slowly, almost relieved, then leaned back in his chair. “Good. Another pair. Humanity lives another day.”
The robot didn’t stop processing. Its gaze shifted across its databanks, and a new name filtered onto the screen. “The next subject approaching fertility expiration: Park Sunghoon. Male. Age twenty-three. Behavioral report: reclusive. Rarely leaves residence.”
The officer raised a brow, a dry smirk tugging at his lips. “So, one of those ‘touch grass’ types?”
The robot made a noise that could almost be mistaken for amusement. The officer chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his notes. “Guess he won’t have much of a choice soon. Get him paired. Humanity’s down to scraps—we can’t afford a single wasted seed.”
And with that, the two of them turned back to the monitors, logging another successful breeding while already preparing for the next. After all, humans were a rare species now—too fragile, too precious—and extinction was not an option.
content - stray kids’ bang chan. fem!reader. really dirty smut.
warnings - tw dubcon / cnc themes. landlord!chan. perv!chan in a way. a lil creepy but nothing much. mean-ish dom!chan. super condescending. mocking. lowkey power imbalance. possessiveness. unprotected piv. panty stealing n used as a gag. lowkey stalkerish behavior. forced breeding. manhandling. possessiveness. a lot of man handling. like one pussy slap. edging n orgasm denial lowkey. aftercare mentions..
word count - 3006.
a/n - so like if you saw this already i rewrote it and cut some parts. but anyways thank you user neukdaeng for your dream. hope i put it to life for you!!!!!!!
apartment 404.
just right above your landlord’s place.
apartment 325.
the purpose of you leaving your hometown and moving into a new city was to escape past relationship difficulties. to get away from everything that reminded you of it all. renting a new place somewhere far away was supposed to make you feel safe and secure. however, your very attentive landlord, chan, had made you feel more than unsafe.
it was nice at first, having someone who actually cared about your living situation and making sure you were comfortable as possible. you’d text him a complaint about your shower head, he’d show up the next hour with a new one just for you. the packages you had ordered showed up at your doorstep instead of having to pick it up at the lobby, courtesy of chan. when a storm passes by, he’s going to your apartment to make sure your ceiling isn’t leaking.
it’s comforting until it’s not.
he starts pushing the boundaries a little more. it started with having your lights on at 4am, unable to fall asleep for the night. suddenly getting a notification from chan.
chan: can’t sleep? i noticed your light was still on. i can help with that if you want.
a weird message to receive, how did he know?
then during cold weather, the heater suddenly turns on in your apartment. pleasantly surprised when you don’t have to lift a finger until you receive another message.
chan: i turned it on just for you ;)
the messages kept flowing. you couldn’t block him though. what if there was another problem? you need to contact your landlord, of course.
chan: [photo]
chan: these sheets would look nice for your bed. you have a full, right?
how did he…
chan: noticed your dining room lightbulb was getting dull, i got you a new one and ill install it later.
you: i won’t be home today, i cant let you in.
chan: that’s no problem, i have a key. i’ll be there.
you: no, its okay. don’t worry about it.
chan: i’m just being nice. perhaps you should take me for granted. i don’t just do this for anyone.
you: okay…
chan: you can make it up to me somehow.
his off-putting behavior had you in a trance. something you’d never admit to is that you liked it. it was a deep secret of yours, but you’d let him do anything to you. yet, you’d never actually think to give in to his needs. his wants.
—
you had promised to yourself that you wouldn’t fall behind on rent. but just your luck, you were a couple hundred short because of missing shifts when you were sick for a week.
you had no choice but to talk to chan about it.
“i don’t think i can pay all of this month. i’m short on money right now.”
“that’s fine.”
“really?”
“yeah.”
you take a deep breath, he’s not finished.
“only if you go on a date with me. spend the night, i know you’re lonely up there. give me a chance.”
you take another deep breath before you end up agreeing.
now you’ve ended up in his apartment. he’s cooked dinner for you. wine on the table.
it started off with small talk. making things more awkward than they were. but one too many drinks and you’ve ended up blurbing words to chan as you become slightly tipsy. he finds it cute how your head sways slightly as you speak, eyes fluttering as they grow tired.
you’re squirming in your seat, shifting uncomfortably. it’s like his eyes are lasers, burning you as his eyes are direct. it feels too hot now.
“you’re so pretty… so cute…”
he’s murmuring under his breath as he stands up to lift your body up, guiding you to his couch. his hand trails from your shoulders to your lower back, dangerously close to your ass, as he’s walking with you slowly towards the couch.
your body goes limp against the couch. everything is spinning in your vision. you suddenly feel an arm creep around you as the couch dips. chan’s sitting close, a little too close. his other hand reaches to your face to tuck away the stray pieces of hair in your face. your eyes flutter at him, watching as he licks his lips while looking up and down from your eyes to your mouth. you start to stiffen up as he’s leaning a bit closer.
“chan…”
“you said you’d stay… don’t tell me you’re backing out. i’ve done so much for you…”
you stay silent as warmth grows on your face, displaying at your cheeks.
“you’re not backing out of it now. it’s our deal.”
his finger starts playing with the strap of your tank top. he’s fiddling with it slowly, making your body feel hotter than it should. as he unravels his finger, the strap drapes down your shoulder.
“relax. i’ll take care of you.”
nodding uncertainly, you watch as the arm wrapped around you drops to your waist to pull you closer at his side.
the same arm is now tracing your curves down to your thighs. you spread your thighs slightly, just enough for his fingers to reach in between your inner thighs to rub small circles.
you gulp hard. it feels too good, loathing his touch. his hand gets closer as his fingertips graze at your clothed core. the materials of your pants getting in the way, so he puts slight pressure. just enough to get you to feel something. you instinctively grab on his wrist, an attempt to stop him. you’re hesitant, you can’t let him win. chan’s quicker to swat your hand away from his wrist.
“just trust me.”
his voice eases you. slowly letting your guard down as he places pressure on your core. the layers of clothing making it impossible to enjoy throughly. he watches you attentively, tilting his head back as he watches you sink slowly into his couch.
“you trust me, right?”
you plead at him with desperate eyes. giving him a slight nod was enough for him. he drapes you on his shoulder, body weak against him as the moment he picked you up happened in a flash. everything is upside down, you watch as he carries you into his bedroom.
“chan…?”
“shush.”
he throws your body onto the bed. you bounce back up with your upper half propped up by your elbows. your gaze follows chan as he nudges himself through your legs, spreading them apart with his body. he’s forcing you open.
“you’d let me do anything i want, wouldn’t you?”
you nod slowly, but it’s eager. there’s a glint in your eyes that scream yes, you just refuse to say it to prove him right.
before you know it, your pants are quickly off as he tugs them down with his fingers. your underwear exposed just for him. he’s drooling.
“you’re so pretty, baby.”
his hands are tracing small circles on your thighs, fingers inching up closer towards the hem of your panties. as his fingers graze your soft skin, you can feel your body betraying you and your wetness pools against the cloth of your panties.
“oh? you’re dripping.”
his pointed finger prods at the patch of wetness, dragging his fingers up and down. you shudder as you feel his finger push in slightly between your folds, the cloth being the only barrier between you and his skin touching.
he takes it upon himself to peel your panties off, watching as the way your wetness has your panties sticking to you. he groans just at the sight of your core.
“uh… i—“
chan places a finger on your lips as he nods, his eyes darkening.
“i know what you need, so say no more.”
he’s tugging his pants and underwear all in one go, aligning himself right at your hole.
“i think you can handle it.”
it’s the last thing he says before he’s grabbing your waist, he slides himself in with no warning. he gives you no time to catch your breath. the stretch stings your walls. he’s pushing himself in, raw. all the way to the hilt.
“c-chan!”
“god, you’re so tight… baby, mmh.”
the sounds of your miserable whines and scream-like moans have him lost in his head, thinking about how he’s finally getting his fill. he’s drunk from your pussy alone. his thrusts are deep, cock filling you to the brim.
“stop squirming, fuck.”
you wriggle as he thrusts, hands grabbing at his biceps. he takes quick action to grab your wrists and pin them up above you, grip tight as he’s pressing down your hands against the sheets. you whine as the grip is strong, there’s no way to escape his force on you.
“yeah, you like that huh? you like how my cock fills you up?”
he gives your clit a slap before circling it with his thumb. you become a whining mess from that action alone.
“fuck… you’re so pliant for me. shit. let me try something.”
he’s dragging you up by your wrist to prop you up. his hand let go, but they land elsewhere, right on your ass to pick you up. his fingers basically clawing into your skin as he carries you on his dick, making his way to his desk, filled with paperwork from other tenants. he shoves them all aside to the floor with one hand, ultimately dropping you onto the cold wood.
“w-what are you doing?”
you balance yourself on your hands as you lean back, his cock still deep in you. he grabs your legs by the back of your knees, propping your legs up on the desk, spreading you out as much as he can. his hands rest on your propped up knees. then his thrusts resume, even propping one of his legs up on his chair to fill you up from a better angle.
the desk is practically shaking, you feel like you might fall from how hard he’s slamming into you. his cup with all his pens shake violently as he plows into your pussy.
“fuck— ‘m testing if this desk is fuckable or not— fuck y/n.”
you’re gripping onto the edge, holding on for dear life as he’s abusing your cunt. one of his hands make its way down your legs, fingers hovered right above your pussy. you look down and watch as his fingers start pinching at your clit. you jerk forward and moan into his shoulder, arms making their way behind his neck, wrapping yourself tightly on him to maintain your balance.
you feel your legs shaking, so close to an orgasm. your face tightens, nose scrunching as you look at chan through welled up tears in your eyes. it takes him less than a second to notice. he stills as he stares at your flushed face.
you feel yourself disconnect from the wooden desk, chan’s got you picked up.
“mmh, don’t like it here. let me try somewhere else.”
you whimper as his movements halt, too busy carrying you to another location in his apartment. his cock is still buried deep inside you as he’s striding his way past his room and into the kitchen. you feel the cold marble countertops at your thighs. he has you in a similar position as before, legs being spread as much as they can to the point they sting. your legs are dangling down and back against the countertop this time. his whole body pushing in closer, trying to get as deep as possible as he continues his plowing into your cunt. it’s embarrassing what kind of noises your making, voice breaking every time he’s going harder into you.
“‘s so m-much! i c-cant!”
hearing your pleas only makes him want to ruin you more. you’re so close again, tipping over the edge. your back starts to arch and you’re gripping for anything for support. you knocked down a plate or two as your arms flail to look for something sturdy. your breathing gets shallower. he notices.
“too messy here. we’re moving.”
and you’re up again. you’re clawing into his back as he carries you once again.
“p-please… just let me… let m-me cum!”
he looks ahead past by you, thinking of where to move to next, instead of listening to any word you say. you squeak as he forcefully props you onto the running dryer. a wave of pleasure rushes through your cunt as the vibrations
he’s propped you up on the dryer. it’s running, rumbling like crazy. a wave of pleasure rushes through your cunt as the vibrations make the experience of chan’s fat cock ten times more intense than it should. the rumbles beneath you has you a crying mess.
“chan— i— i need to c-cum! p-please… let me!”
you’re babbling nonsense at this point. the tears start streaming down your face as you hold yourself up by propping your hands on chan’s broad shoulders. he rolls his eyes watching your pathetic tears roll down your pink-tinted cheeks.
“oh shut up.”
you can see his smirk as he grabs something from the cabinet of his laundry room. your black panties. the same pair he stole when you let him do your laundry. it was hard to not notice your favorite pair going missing. now, you’ve finally found it. but is it really yours anymore? it happens in a flash, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, getting you to open wide and shoving in the piece of flimsy fabric. you gag as his fingers push in a little too much against your throat.
“that’ll keep you quiet.”
he wastes no time to plow back into you as the dryer runs.
“it’s perfect here, this fucking machine is enough to get you off, doesn’t it? hm?”
he watches as your eyes roll back from the two satisfactory tools, his cock and the running machine. it’s not enough for him, he needs to see you ruined completely before you actually orgasm on his cock. once again, your ass is in the air as he moves you to another place.
“hm, let me try somewhere else. this just isn’t it.”
his voice is condescending. you knew it. you wouldn’t be able to release any time soon.
you whine as your skin gets ripped from the rush of the running machine. he has a bit of mercy for you, slowly dragging the black fabric out of your mouth before he’s off carrying you. your core is throbbing against his dick, begging for anything. you swear you can hear him groan a bit as he’s moving you else where. you feel a breeze on your back. a plea escapes your mouth as you feel his dick leave your cunt. then suddenly, you watch the view of his bedroom turn into a view of the street below your apartment building. it’s enough for slight panic.
“what the fuck!”
the pure fear of someone seeing you about to fill your head, yet it’s all blurry when he’s back to lining his head back at your folds, fucking you from behind. you lift your head up, scanning the other apartment buildings. noticing how some windows are lit up. you’re back to being afraid that someone might see you. someone seeing you giving chan what he wants. seeing that you like it.
“someone’s g-gonna see…”
you’re begging him desperately now. gripping hard onto the cold metal railing.
“you’re right. this isn’t a good spot. no one else should see you like this but me.”
he’s pulled you off the railing, letting you back in and landing you back onto his bed. he’s desperate to finish himself, but something clicks in him as he observes one last time.
you feel like you’re about to orgasm until he suddenly stops the thrusts again. you look up at him from your nuzzled head on his shoulders, tears at the brim of your waterline.
“no no no… w-why did you stop?”
you whine as he looks at you, darkness enveloping in his eyes. he picks you up by the waist again and his cock slips out of you. a big ache within your core, letting out a desperate moan as you feel the emptiness, not even realizing that you’ve ended up with your stomach and chest pressed against his nightstand beside his bed. his hands take hold of your wrists once again, this time placing them behind your back. you feel something cold wrap around your wrists instead of his forceful grip. the sound of clanking metal fills your ears, realizing its his belt. you feel his hands rubbing against your waist, one of the hands going a bit too far up, groping at your breasts. a distraction as his cock slips back in, you moan miserably at the surprise.
“‘m gonna finally breed this pussy. that way— you’ll be with me forever.”
he’s finally at his breaking point, you can feel his seed in you with each thrust. each one getting sloppier and shallow.
you want to speak, but you can’t get any words out of your mouth. especially when he’s pushing in as deep as he can, making sure you collect every bit of his seed in you. your own release finally happening, a loud moan escapes your mouth after long anticipation from how much he was fucking himself into you for so long.
as he pulls out, his groans at the sight of your creamed pussy. the glistening of your folds as it drips down onto the floor and slightly at the sides of your inner thighs. it’s all too messy.
“mmh… let me clean you up…”
standing up quickly, he takes a washcloth from his bathroom, wiping it across your ruined cunt.
“i’ll take care of you. so much you’ll never want to leave me.”
you want to oppose on the idea, but your mind is far too astray for thinking now. helplessly, you give an obedient nod to everything he says. you’re his now. you’ve given in completely.
The one where your antisocial stepbro pretends he's not obsessed—while secretly hacking you, jerking off to your secrets, and discovering about your desire. He’s obsessed… And you'll use it.
BEST TO READ IN DARK MODE FOR EFFECTS
CONTENT ↠ nsfw! mdni!, smut, angsty toxic Heeseung, obsessive, psychosexual dark vibes step bro Heeseung, stalker heeseung, if I can't have you no one can typpa heeseung, deep voyeurism kink, needy/pervy/manipulative reader, strong depiction of fantasies, sexual tension, consensual edging, p in the v, overstimulation, , light choking, public act, bad behavior's reader.
WORDCOUNT ↠ 9k (not proof read enough.. damn...)
Was literally obsessed with those two songs when writing this : https://open.spotify.com/intl-fr/album/4OFZVvqlg84Czl7td7XddK?si=rakigTTnSJyY8CnPyp8A7w
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Heeseung barely glanced up the first time you met.
Not when your mom introduced you, her laugh sharp and grating over the clink of designer glassware. Not when she called you her little angel, like she hadn’t spent the last decade ignoring your existence—like a piece of cloth begging to be brought back just because it’s trendy now. And definitely not when you smiled at him like you actually meant it.
He just slouched further into his hoodie—hood up, sleeves covering half his hands like armor. Said something that might’ve been “hey,” but it sounded more like: I don’t give a shit.
You smiled anyway. Quiet, composed. Like you didn’t notice he hadn’t met your eyes yet, hadn’t even registered the color of his irises. He had a good face, for sure. And a nice name. Heeseung. Hee—seung.
Let’s try not to forget it…
He’s Heeseung—the one who doesn't match the luxury flooring or manicured smiles. Heeseung, who looked more interested in his phone screen than the pricey piece of steak he’d just been served.
You—
You were different. And Heeseung noticed.
Because other girls—especially the daughters of his father’s revolving door of Stepford wives—always played the same game: almost flirty, too fake, self-obsessed, and excited to be part of the family.
You… you were calmer. Almost shy. Ashamed to even call your mom “Mom.” You were also interested in his presence—lightly tapping his foot with yours, giving him those apologetic doe eyes, like: Sorry that my shameless mom got a grip on your already-married dad just to milk him dry…
But it’s not like he divorced his mom for yours. And it’s not like you were the first one. Generally, the other step-siblings never asked about him. Never cared to know what lay beneath the hoodie-tortured-kid style he wore like armor.
You?
You looked at him like he was a person. Like you saw something he didn’t even believe was still there.
And with months—and then a year—maybe… you liked what you saw.
You asked questions. Not the fake kind. Real ones.
“You coded that game on your own?”
“You really won a national contest?”
“That glitch mechanic you added… did you write it from scratch?”
He wasn’t used to that kind of attention. Not anymore.
You leaned over his laptop one afternoon, wide-eyed, genuinely impressed. Your breath was warm on his shoulder, the scent of vanilla and soft detergent clinging to your hoodie—one he was almost sure used to be his.
“You’re kind of a genius,” you’d said, and smiled that smile. Soft. Easy. Like you weren’t afraid of him.
Because why would you be? You were always so nice and caring to him. You’d bring him a plate of food when his dad never cared to check even once. Leave Post-its with sweet pep talks before exams—ones that made him smile for the first time in a decade. Sit silently beside him after he got scolded for placing second on the honor board. Your hand, always soft and peach-scented, would stroke his hair like he wasn’t eight months older. And your eyes—so sweet when they met his.
You weren’t supposed to make him feel things.
And he wasn’t supposed to want someone like you.
But there you were. Not just prim—but infuriatingly so. You weaponized it. You made being stuck-up look like a goddamn virtue. All perfect posture and polite smiles. Still, something was off. Like how you made him open up to you, but never really talked about yourself—your life, your past. Always mysterious, always evasive when he got curious, always turning the tables on him.
You… you made him feel watched. Seen. Known.
And he didn’t like not knowing you back. Because he needed to know everything. It was pathological. Every variable that could disturb his life. Every secret.
And you—you were the unknown variable. The only one he couldn’t figure out.
And the worst part?
Heeseung couldn’t match you. He wasn’t good with people. Never had been. Getting you to open up? Never happening. He even got tense in crowds. Even if girls liked him, he couldn't maintain relationships beyond hookups. He could throw a punch, sure—but he'd rather let the other guy walk off with a smirk, too bored to bother.
But he was good at something: systems. Code. Surveillance.
So he broke the rules he’d promised himself he wouldn’t—with you.
He hacked your devices.
He shouldn’t have connected to them. Shouldn’t have hijacked your phone. Shouldn’t have hacked your webcam feed like it was just another game level to conquer.
It started innocent—ish. Really. Just some harmless digital snooping. New mother, new stepsister, weird vibes, potential threat to his peace and privacy—totally justifiable.
But your passwords were laughable. The kind of thing a middle schooler could crack.
Seriously. “Bookworm123”?
Please.
After all he was Mr. Cybersecurity Prodigy. Award-winning code monkey. VPN for his VPN, two-factor-auth god.
And he peeked. Just a little…
Your instagram private account, that your mom swore you didn’t have because “socials medias was too destructive for her future doctor of a child.”
Your spotify. Pinterest boards. You’re files.
like essays about behavioral neuroscience and a note named “journaling” : Plans. Rage. Angry rebellion written between textbook reviews. Your escape plan : college far away, control of your own life, zero influence from Barbie and her string of Stepdads. How you craved more. Your identity crisis, GPA fetishist, and how competitive you were to the point of mania. Basically, a mirror of Heeseung in the shape of someone who tried to play the hero of his narrative.
Then, it got worse.
Because curiosity became fixation. He was too deep for it not to be.
On sleepless nights, Heeseung discovered things he absolutely shouldn't.
That his straight A’s and volunteering hours stepsister — was actually sneaking off to frat party with her friends, just feel alive, get waisted and let some sophomore finger her.
The music you fall asleep to, your “fuck” playlist too — the one you wouldn’t admit to owning even under threat of death.
That habit of yours to flirt with strangers like you had a death wish or just want to be ruined so badly being jailed would be for your own good.
That you send cropped pics, no face — just enough tits and thighs, to creeps then ghost them when they beg to meet, just to feel seen.
And he knew the kind of porn you watched on school nights, after wishing him sweet dreams. Earphones on, lips between your t-shirt collar like you’re scared someone might hear you in that big mansion. And what killed him is how fucking rough it is. Spit. Hair-pulling. Throat-fucking. Girls like you weren’t supposed to want that. Girls like you were supposed to blush and look away, like when he got too close. You’re supposed to be horrified at things like that — not get off to it at 1:38 a.m.
He discovered your texts with that secret boyfriend of yours. How badly he treated you—and how you let him, just to feel owned, loved. He knew when you snuck in those late-night FaceTimes, shirt half-off, hand between your thighs, playing the loyal girlfriend for him and his pathetic dick.
And Heeseung? He was obsessed with that version of you—the one he didn’t even dare to fantasize about, yet you handed to him on a silver plate.
Your self-care sessions got him hard under his desk. Got him jerking off to the way your fingers curled around your own throat in the dim hue of your bedroom, playing at power, pretending you didn’t crave being broken open.
You were too good at pretending. Sitting across from him, blouse crisp, smiling like a poetry award was the climax of your week.
What a goddamn lie.
But at least he’d seen you now. Most of you. And he understood better. Understood your issues. But something in him snapped.
Because this wasn’t just about obsession anymore.
It wasn’t about lust.
Or even protection.
It was about you.
And how you made him feel real again.
How you gave him a purpose.
You didn’t flinch when he glared. Didn’t avoid him at dinner. You just smiled, slid him your extra fries, and asked about the AI competition like it mattered. You looked at him like he was a person.
Not a project. Not a problem.
Not a hacker. Not a delinquent.
Not some mistake his father regretted.
And that… made you dangerous.
Because now you were a necessity. Something—someone—he cared about.
He did want to protect you.
But he also wanted to own you.
To erase the line between your bedroom and his. Between your thoughts and his access. Between your gasps at night and his name.
You weren’t supposed to get close.
You weren’t supposed to care.
And he wasn’t supposed to fall for you.
Fall for you?
...
But now what ?
You were the virus in his system.
The girl who said “good job” when he didn’t ask for praise. Who laughed when no one else did. Who touched his shoulder once—just once—and left him with a twitch in his fingers he couldn’t debug.
But you were a line of code he couldn’t rewrite. A live feed he couldn’t turn off.
And maybe, if he watched long enough—if he memorized every breath, every sigh, every single unguarded look—you wouldn’t disappear like the others.
Maybe, if he learned your pattern…he could break you open before you broke him.
And maybe, just maybe, you’d want him to. Even if it meant losing something. Even if it meant pulling you into the dark with him… and never letting you go.
Now you were sitting across from him. You spare him a glance while structuring your salad like a freak, with those doe eyes and he’s hard. Hard at a family dinner while they talked business.
Suddenly his breath catches your feet touching under the table. Like questioning, you good ?
Yeah it’s me, Heeseung. That sweet voice of yours haunting his head.
His foot slides slower in between your legs mindlessly and when you almost jolt, he realizes.
“gotta go sleep.” he blurred, rushing off the table. “Tomorrow is exam day.”
Fuck, he wants more. More of your secrets.More of you—the real you.
So he turned on your webcam, night after night, and your phone’s, and tab. like you were his favorite streamer, his favorite radio mc, the best sound to sleep. Like you wanted him to fantasise, think of it every night…
You were stretched across your bed, laughing into your phone, wearing nothing but a tank and panties, circling your finger on your belly mindless. The way girls do when they forget they’re being watched.
You laid out your clothes for the next day like some little honor-roll princess—giggling when your friend called you a chaebol, and you shrug her off.
But the way you lingered on the lace you never wear… the silk you only sleep on alone… the sheer pieces he has never seen— holding them up to your chest, slow movements like the reflection was his to tell you what to wear. It was fucking foreplay. You were a fucking siren, with your fucking hair finally down, and those dumb big scare glasses off.
And him ?
Heeseung…
He was already crashing on the rocks. He was a black-hat addict no-full-blown cyber-pervert. rock hard, mindlessly stroking his bulge at the sheer form of you in unmatched underwears.
So innocent. So mine.
Some days later, you knocked on his door while your parents were off circling the globe, allergic to stillness and obligations. Your hair was tied up but messier than usual, cheeks sun-kissed, eyes almost red—like you’d cried.
God, if someone made you cry… I’d kill them.
You held two glasses of soda, dripping with condensation. No way you could deny you’d been pacing by his door for the last hour.
“What are you up to, genius? I’m bored,” you said, voice half-curious, half-something else.
Heeseung—fool, addict, liar—let you in. Let you get too close. Showed you things he shouldn’t because you asked with that look that made him feel like a god, not a glitch. But also made him wonder who had made you sad enough to want to change your mind.
Still, you smiled at his screens like they were art. Touched his keyboard like it was sacred. No step-sister had ever looked at him like that before—hell, no one actually had. Fuck, he needed to focus. Focus on you, not you.
“You really made all this?”
He nodded, trying not to smirk, trying not to shake. His fingers danced across the keys like a seduction.
“Wanna see something fun?”
A window blinked open. He typed some commands, and grainy footage appeared: the neighbor’s yard. Middle-aged man with hedge clippers, snipping bonsai like manicuring his soul.
He tapped more keys. Suddenly, sprinklers roared to life. The neighbor shrieked, dropped the shears, and bolted.
You burst out laughing, collapsing into him, palm against his chest. That sound—reckless, sweet—made something snap inside him. It wasn’t just pride. It was possession. You weren’t weirded out. You liked it. Liked him. Not the fake polite way. The way that made him want to caress your cheek and kiss those red eyes.
But he was a coward—or your strongest soldier, as he liked to call himself. One who wanted you close, for good, not some fling you’d regret like the others he barely tolerated. No, he wanted you for life—and he was in the perfect position, as long as your parents behaved.
Then your eyes met. Dangerous idea sparking. You dared him with your gaze, then dashed out of his room.
“Try it on my bedroom camera!” you shouted, disappearing down the hall, hoodie flapping like a flag.
Fuck. If only you knew he was already connected.
Moments later — Cam03: Her Bedroom Feed lit up.
You stood in front of the lens—he used to fuck himself to thoughts of you—starry-eyed as he purposefully reactivated the red dot, signaling it was on. Made a mental note to re-enable it later.
You waved. Smiled like sin. Mouthing: “See me?”
He choked. Because yes—he saw you. Always had. But now? Now you saw him.
Like you always knew.
You reached for your top, lifted the hem just enough to flash bare skin, then darted out of frame, laughing like it was a game.
His chest burned. Panic and arousal mixed in his bloodstream like a drug. Heeseung’s brain broke.
But he didn’t shut it down. He couldn’t. Instead, he gave in. His trembling fingers dimmed your room’s lights, shifting godspeed to soft pink. He knew it was your favorite. Knew too much.
Then he started your playlist—the one with soft beats, gentle melody, moonstruck, your favorite.
You paused in the doorway. Turned just enough for the camera to catch you again. Smiled with pure fascination, like a kid. You should’ve been afraid. But you weren’t.
You looked at the cam again, really looked, like he was the sweetest boy, and you didn’t care much what he was capable of—because it was him.
You walked back to his door, dripping sunlight and mischief.
“That was so cool,” you said, high-fiving him like your heart wasn’t thundering. Like you hadn’t just exposed the darkest part of him and come back wanting more. “Can you, like… track people? Their phones or whatever?”
Heeseung blinked. “I-if their GPS is on. Or if they ping the network.”
You tilted your head. Bit your lip. “…Wanna play hide and seek?”
He scoffed in disbelief, but there was a glint behind his eyes—half challenge, half thrill. Like he’d just been dared to play a game he already knew the rules to.
He grabbed his laptop. The mansion was too big. Too full of shadows, quiet corners. A maze of marble, high ceilings, inherited guilt.
Heeseung sat somewhere, a storm brewing behind his eyes.
You texted him: “find me.” One signal. One flare. Then silence.
He tracked you through your phone GPS—chose not to use the hallway cams, even though he easily could have. Something intimate, invasive, about watching your little red dot move on his map. Every time he walked to you was an ode to the game only you two could play.
Library.
“Checkmate. You’re here.”
“Wow! So you really can!”
West Wing.
“If I’m facing a mirror, it’s too easy… not even fun.”
“Fuck…”
Wine Cellar.
“If you’re trying to get drunk, pick the 2007 Bordeaux.”
You laughed.
The pool.
He stuck to the GPS. The red dot blinking. Stalling. Then disappearing.
You texted: “find me now.”
His screen dimmed like the whole house was holding its breath.
Heeseung’s pulse quickened. GPS cut out. No new pings. He tried again. Twice. Three times. Nothing.
Every nerve in his body was a wire of curiosity. The air heavy with chlorine and humidity as he stepped toward the pool deck, leaving his computer by the bar.
Then he found it—your phone, face down on the stone near the pool.
But you, where—
“Got you!” You leapt.
Laughter, bare legs, hoodie off. Heeseung didn’t have time to react before you crashed into him—both of you tumbling into the water with a splash that shattered the silence.
You surfaced first, grinning like a devil. “You can’t find me if I don’t want you to, huh?” you teased, flicking water at him.
Heeseung stared at you, laughing mid-cough. Clothes heavy. Hair plastered to his forehead. The water clung to your skin in a way that made his hands twitch under the surface. You floated closer then. Then reached out and hooked your fingers in his bangs, stroking them like you always did. Then tugging gently.
“How about I cut your hair?” you whispered, too close to him not to have his eyes linger on your lips. “We’re starting university soon. Can’t show up like some code-goblin, right?”
He snorted. But you two didn’t move. Just watched each other's souls for too long. Heart hammering. Skin burning. You were in his pool. In his arms now. In his system.
“Are you okay?”
He, with the most considering eyes a family member ever gave you. But you just nodded to his biggest displeasure. Something was wrong, yeah.
Actually, everything was wrong. And surely something was wrong with you. You felt trapped. In your studies, in your relationship, in these always-new families, in your boring unstable life. You wanted more. More attention, more love, more recognition, more freeness, just more…
You weren't special like Heeseung. You couldn’t clap your fingers and get that video back from your so-called boyfriend—he threatened to leak it if you ever thought of leaving him again. Couldn’t clap your fingers and make a scholarship appear on your forms for university, and couldn’t clap your fingers to make you go to your best choice without the biggest loan you can think about.
But it was better to tell him everything was okay. Because if you didn't fake it… you’d be dead by now.
And maybe it’s the weather, or his concerned look, or his trembling hands on your ribs—not too low, not too high. But it felt good being with Heeseung, even better seeing the way he looked at you—you really had a problem.
“Can you… like… if I ever asked you…”
“What?” He came closer, almost locking in his hands. “Tell me…”
“If someday I needed you, would you… like… help me if I have something very complicated to solve... like… you know, math.” You laughed it off like you weren't about to ask him to get that sextape back.
He nodded so obediently it hurt. Fuck, you had him in the palm of your hand without doing anything more than just letting him watch. Deny his ever-growing desire. Playing this game you caught him in.
Yeah… maybe you really were what your mom made out of you… sadly.
After that, Heeseung was like a man on a mission. He hacked every piece of info he could find on that deep shit. Until he found it… your complicated math exercise…
A tap of you and him. Filmed like you weren’t aware of it. Heeseung couldn’t find the courage to watch it…
Until he did.
And it was everything he ever fantasized doing with you.
He could frame him for anything he wanted. Crash his Tesla. His mind was spiraling as he bit on his nail, replaying that video again and again and again. Zooming on you.
I’ll protect you.
First, you needed an escape. Easy—that guy already cheated on you with so many girls, it was easy for you to catch him. So he wrote a fantasy he hoped you’d fall for. He drafted messages from your bf’s phone. A fake date. Something sweet, just enough like your boyfriend to pass.
“Meet me tonight baby girl. Just us. Let’s talk. 9PM. My room.”
“Baby girl…” you hated that name, but still couldn’t refuse him. And now Heeseung understood.
You saw it, and for a second, you believed. He watched you re-read it, then start getting ready—lip gloss, that fluttery dress, even that nervous little smile like it still meant something.
Meanwhile, your boyfriend was across campus, buried in someone else. Moaning her name. Careless, as always.
Heeseung watched it all—your hope fading when you opened that door, his betrayal, his choke. Your silence. Her grasp. One earbud in, one eye on every camera feed you both could offer.
You left the place in a rush, your phone starting to buzz as Heeseung watched every message your now-ex boyfriend sent you. You found yourself drifting in a club. You needed air, music, and drinks.
The music wasn’t even that good, your drink, not that strong. You didn’t plan to dance. And you didn’t plan for some no-brain guy with smooth hands to hit on you.
And you almost let him have his way near the bathrooms. Just to forget the sound of your phone. Forget that you had to go back to that guy until he decided he’d had enough or leaked the tape.
Almost.
Until Heeseung’s hand was on your wrist, showing up out of nowhere to pull you away.
“Heeseung?”
He got you out of the club, his hand digging into your wrist. The car ride was dead silent. Heeseung looked pissed. You were hollow, but not dumb. And you let him snap.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
You didn’t answer.
“... Don’t you have a bf?”
Still silent. Tears welled up before you could blink them back, and Heeseung was at a loss for words. Yeah, it was that easy to shush him—crocodile cries easy.
“Stop crying…” he muttered, but he looked panicked now. Like your tears were acid on his skin. “Tell me what’s going on?”
Like he didn’t know.
But you had to play it well. Make him do it tonight, and no other night.
“He cheated…”
“Then leave him…”
“I can’t…” Hee looked at you with fake wonder. “He filmed me once… and…”
He nodded, enough to tell you you didn’t need to keep going.
When you got home, Heeseung took your hand before you stormed into your room, and he watched you—really watched—and got in a hug. Caressing your hair, getting closer to your ear, “I'll help you.”
You almost feared he could feel your smile. You detached your head with the saddest questioning expression.
“I’ll protect you,” he said, the heaviest stare he ever gave you.
You just nodded like you weren’t expecting much. When you actually wanted exactly what he gave you.
Back in your room, you kept re-seeing Heeseung’s expression. Almost mad, almost dangerous.
And you. You wanted more. You wanted everything—not just protection, but revenge. Revenge for the time you lost on that guy, for your virginity you couldn’t bring back, for the stress… for everything.
So you opened your laptop. Placed your phone next to it like it’s part of the performance. You know he’s watching.
You know.
Heeseung, on his part, got in his room ready to execute the next part of his plan when the ping of your camera alerts him. But tonight is not the night. After seeing you like that, he doesn't want to do that.
So he started to undress. Until—
“Heeseung?”
His head snapped to his monitor. WTF.
“You’re here, no? I mean, you’re watching.”
He almost fell on the ground, unable to walk straight to his computer.
The webcam light doesn’t flicker on right away when you open it.
You look at your reflection. This webcam is better than the last time you used it. Wide-angle. Pretty high-def. You can see almost your entire room. Bed. Closet. Console. The mirror angled just right to show the bathroom.
God. You made it so easy for him.
You let your fingers lazily drift to your dress straps. In a slow reveal. You watch yourself in the camera—legs tucked just right to keep mystery intact. Eyes locked on the return. You open your—
“You like it when I do that?” You looked almost innocent doing it. What the fuck were you doing, Heeseung’s mind screamed. “You want more?”
Heeseung was stunned. Too many questions. Too many desires.
He didn’t even respond, his hand mindlessly disconnecting your camera’s red dot and reconnecting again like Morse.
“Then ruin him for me. Make him as ashamed as I was.”
You were pulling his obsession like strings. A puppet master in silk cloth. The light on the webcam flickered once again.
You smiled, slowly nodding. “Good night, Heeseung.” Shut it all down.
By morning, half the campus was infected with a juicy little virus: dozens of very compromising photos of your now-ex, including a special feature of him being pegged by none other than his mom’s best friend.
Iconic.
The breakup text? Already sent. Blocked him before your brain even had a chance to process.
You didn’t see him all day. No dinner, no open door when you brought snacks. Nothing.
Maybe you really fucked up. Poor Heeseung, thinking you were innocent, only to find out you were just like everyone else—grey, messy, complicated.
But just before bed, your phone lit up. A note. Your password written clear on the screen.
You sat frozen, eyes flickering between the note that started typing on its own, and the webcam pointed right at you.
“I’ll always protect you.”
Then, an mp4 file popped up. Your lips curved into a shy smile.
You almost said something, but instead, you tapped beneath his words:
“Thank you, Heeseung. I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t there.”
The cursor blinked, paused—like he was thinking hard about what to say next.
“I protect what’s mine.”
Your eyes drifted to the webcam. “Am I?”
“Aren’t you?”
Your gaze dropped shyly, biting your lip to keep the smile from slipping out. Fuck, it was hot—this obsessive, protective boy who’d kill for you.
“I am…” you breathed, fingers playing with the thin straps of your dress.
“Maybe?”
Slowly, you peeled it off. No bra. No panties. Just you—bare, glowing in the soft light of your screen.
Heeseung’s side: panting mess. Trembling. Rock hard. Watching was always intense, but this? His brain shorted out. Every movement you made poured fuel on the fire in his chest—the way you loosened your hair, slid off your glasses, shy but teasing.
Your voice slipped through his headphones like a spell.
“Tell me what you want,” you breathed. “I’ll do it. As a thank you.”
He was nearly feral, watching you perched like a dream made just for him. But now you wanted him to take the lead. For once, you wanted control handed over.
And for a long, heavy moment, silence.
Then, a new line in your notes:
“Anything?”
You nodded, lips parting.
Another line.
“Touch yourself.”
“For me.”
You rose, heading for your bed.
Then:
“No. Here.”
You sat back down. Fully exposed. The chair never felt colder. The electricity on your skin was undeniable—the weight of someone watching, devouring every move.
You shivered. Something folded inside, vulnerable but not scared.
Then your screen flickered.
A video opened.
Porn.
But not just any porn. A girl like you—same frame, soft lighting. She was in a gaming chair, legs parted, cat headphones, a pink toy buzzing between her thighs. Moaning like she’d been waiting for eyes to watch.
You blinked. The message was loud and clear.
Your breath caught—not shocked, but challenged.
Back to the webcam—doe eyes, tempted. Your fingers traced lower, hips shifting, copying her exact position. Mimicry never felt so twisted.
You didn’t hesitate. Your fingers moved.
Heeseung watched like it was a live confession. Pupils dilated, chest heaving, gripping himself tight, trying not to explode too soon.
A message appeared:
“Slower.”
You obeyed, breath shaking, already slick with every stroke.
Another message:
“Fuck, you’re shaking.”
You were. Legs twitching, spine arching against the chair.
You never thought you’d go this far, but he was puppeteering you with his commands.
Then:
“I’ve never seen you like this. Fuck. I want to cum in you. In that chair. Just like that.”
You groaned, eyes fluttering shut, but forced them open—locking onto the lens like it was him.
Another message:
“I want you ruined. For anyone else. Say it.”
You moaned, fingers freezing.
“I’m yours,” you whispered.
“Say it again,” he typed.
“I’m yours, Heeseung.”
The pressure built—right at the edge—
Then:
“Stop.”
“Don’t cum.”
Your breath hitched. You froze mid-stroke, legs trembling.
Another line:
“I said stop. If anyone makes you cum tonight—it’s me.”
Your fingers hovered, shaking. The ache burned deep in your thighs, stomach taut.
But you stopped.
Because his word mattered more than your desire now.
Your screen blinked.
“Get your toy.”
You swallowed, nodded, reached into your drawer.
The vibrator was familiar—sleek, pink, faintly scented from your date-night oil. You rubbed it, coating it with your wetness, then slid it slowly inside, breath heavy.
Then the toy buzzed. Flickered. Came alive.
You gasped—he was controlling it.
Before you could say a word, it pulsed hard. Your body jerked, chair creaking beneath you. Your grip tightened on the arms as pleasure rolled through you like a whip.
“That’s it,” he typed. “Don’t touch it. Just take it.”
You moaned—too much, too fast—your body trembling, legs spreading without control. The sounds you made were filthy, desperate.
Heeseung’s fingers typed again.
“Grip the chair.”
You obeyed.
The toy buzzed harder, relentless and cruel.
“Look at the camera.”
Tears pricked, but you held his gaze—through that little glowing lens. Your thighs trembled, breath catching—
He knew.
He memorized every sound, every gasp, every twitch.
Your climax hit like an explosion—so fierce your back arched from the chair. Toes curled, lips parted in a silent cry.
If only you could hear it—the gasp, the groan, the shuddering moan from his room. Rooms apart, perfectly synced.
You collapsed back against the seat, chest heaving.
The toy powered down. The room fell silent but electric. Only the Notes app stayed open. One final line appears:
“I know your body better than anyone ever will.”
You smile, eyes rolling, calming yourself. You’re still catching your breath when your phone buzzes.
Unknown Caller.
You smirk. Answer it without hesitation.
Hee,” you whisper, lazy satisfaction dripping from your tone.
You hear him—shaky, panting, like the edge nearly broke him. “Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck… You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty. You don’t even know what you do to me.”
His voice is hoarse, frayed with restraint. You picture him—still burning from his climax, hand resting low, skin flushed.
“You drive me insane. Every breath you take, every moan...” He watches you lift your thighs, tucking yourself shyly behind them like a girl playing innocent. “It’s mine. You’re mine. Don’t you get it? I want you so bad I—fuck—I can’t even—”
You cut in softly.
“Heeseung,” you murmur, voice smooth like silk sliding over a blade. “I never said I was yours...”
Silence.
You lean in, sugar-sweet, doe eyes locked on the lens, like you don’t quite know what you’re doing.
“You think this makes me yours?”
He breathes hard. You swear you hear the tension in his throat—how he swallows that growl.
“Then what?” he whispers. “What do I have to do?”
You hum, hiding your face in your thighs, thoughtful. “I’ll know.”
Heeseung almost chokes. “You’re playing with me.”
You tilt your head.
“Of course I am, Hee. Isn’t that what you like? What we always did? Playing games.” Your voice softens, teasing, the tone that always breaks him. “You’re obsessed, Hee. But to own me?” you shake your head slowly. “You’ll have to do more than just watch me cum on camera.”
A pause. You let it hang, let it burn. Then, low and teasing:
“If you really want me,” you whisper. “Stop being a coward. Show me.”
His breath catches. You almost feel the stillness on his end.
Click.
You hang up.
Still smiling, you toss your phone aside.
“Good night, Heeseung,” you murmur to the camera before shutting everything down.
Heeseung hadn’t heard your voice in three days.
Not on the phone, not through the headphones, not even that little intake of breath when you tiptoe around your room late at night.
Three days.
Seventy-two hours of silence.
No webcam flickers. No Notes app replies. No little “good night, Hee” teasing him through pixels.
Nothing.
He tapped at your IP like a lunatic. Pinging dead signals. Checked your cloud for new files. Scraped your cache for cam logs, anything—anything—that might prove you were still playing.
But you weren’t. You’d shut him out completely. Blocked him, in every way that mattered—except the one that destroyed him the most: in person, you were still perfect.
Because in real life, you were still her.
Still the step-sister who sat next to him at dinner, nudging his arm, sipping from his glass like it meant nothing. Still in those stupid soft modest dresses that smelled like your vanilla lotion and innocence. Still saying his name in that sweet voice that didn’t match the girl who once whispered “I’m yours” for a night, while fingering herself in his favorite dress.
Still shy smilling in front of the parents, like he wasn’t slowly going fucking insane of you ghosting him in the cruelest way possible.
Heeseung clenched his jaw until it hurt. His fists, tighter. You were torturing him. Training him with your silence. Denying him touch, sound, ownership—making him feel like just another loser watching from a screen.
And worst of all? You liked it.
He could see it in the way you smiled at him when no one was looking. Like the devil behind a halo. Like the dom who knew her puppy would crawl the moment she said good boy.
You knew what you were doing. And you knew he was starving.
He watched you meet someone new through your messages—tracked him from his first DM. The second the guy sent a heart emoji, Heeseung had full access to his cloud, laptop, phone, and location history.
So when you showed up at that guy’s place in that same dress as that night, Heeseung went feral. watching you through the guy’s hacked MacBook camera. Front-row seat. 1080p. Wide angle. Clear sound. Perfect view.
You didn’t even try to hide untapping your phone camera, angling it for him. But he was already there.
He watched the way you swayed when you walked into the room. That skirt was short—barely legal. Hair done like you were on a mission to ruin him. Lip gloss like you were asking to be kissed. Or owned.
Heeseung’s fists dug into his thigh. You let the guy kiss you. Hands on your hips. Heeseung scoffed in fury. The guy went down on you and Heeseung leaned forward—eyes glued to your face smiling at him. Not for the man.
Only for him.
You mouthed his name, Heeseung, made that sound again—that sweet gasp that cracked every nerve in his body—and his hands were already down his pants before he even realized it. Stroking slowly. Angry.
Then the guy started fucking you. It was… pathetic.
You looked bored. Pretty. But not wrecked. Not how Heeseung would have done you—needed you. Not how you looked when he edged you, whispering commands through your notes.
He texted :
He’s not even close to making you cum.Why are you with him?Stop.
Now.
Please.
You didn’t stop. You got louder. Not for performance, because knowing hee was watching, unleashed you.
Heeseung’s hand stuttered. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard it bled. You were performing. For him, not the other guy. You had to be. And yet you didn’t stop when he begged you.
Heeseung didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t call a friend.
He texted one of the girls who’d been orbiting him since he entered university—some pretty, pouty girl with no idea what she was walking into.
She came fast. Obedient. Heeseung fucked her like punishment.
Shoved her onto his lap, dragged her skirt over her hips without a single word. Didn’t ask if she was ready. Didn’t even pretend to care. Just spread her thighs, lined himself up, and buried in—rough, silent, merciless.
She moaned his name, kissing his neck. Heeseung kept his eyes on the screen. Because on the monitor behind her?
You were still live. Fucking someone else. His airpods were in. And he was moaning your name under his breath.
The girl was clueless to much overwhelmed by his deep, rough trust. Riding him like she thought she was doing a good job for him to be so feral.
Heeseung touched her the way he would have to you, controlling. forcing her in position trying to reach her deepest part, as he watched your hips roll on screen. Your nails dig into someone else’s back.
“Grippe my back. leave marks.” he ordered her.
He hiss, mouthing along with your sounds like a prayer.
“Fuck—Louder. Just like that... Just like that—fuck.”
The girl on his lap whimpered, “does it feel good, Hee?”
Heeseung stared at your body—your lips, your tits, your sweat-shined thighs.
“You’re so perfect,” he muttered. “Fuck—you…”
His climax came hard, violent. He choked your name on the exhale and came inside the girl like she didn’t matter—because she didn’t.
When the girl left, he stared at the screen for an hour. Watched you dress. Watched you check your phone. Smiling.
Not once did you reply to his messages.
You were killing him. Starving him. Making him beg. He slammed the laptop shut, chest heaving, hatred and love boiling into the same sick ache.
You were right. He was a coward. But not for much longer.
You found it on your bed. No card. No note. No sender. Just a black box, wrapped in a ribbon you never heard arrive. Inside: lingerie. Lace. Sheer. Decadent. Your exact size. Your exact taste. Lightly soaked in a scent you could recognize in your sleep—his cologne.
Your fingers trembled when you held it up to the light. No message. But then again, he never needed words.
Heeseung didn’t ask. He tried to command.
So, you didn’t text. Didn’t thank him. You just wore it.
That night, when the webcam light blinked to life, you were already sitting pretty in front of your laptop. Sheer fabric draped over your body like a sin begging to be confessed.
You leaned into the camera, eyes soft, voice sweeter.
“Goodnight, Genius. Hope uni’s not eating you alive.”
And then—
You logged off. Just like that.
Left him starving. You knew he’d pretend it didn’t affect him. He tried, bless him.
He texted the next day, like it was nothing. Invited you to his university party. Like this wasn’t war. Like he wasn’t already losing.
Of course, you went. Dressed in red. Not the lingerie—something sharper. Something that made his friends stare a little too long.
Heeseung barely spoke to you that night. Slipped back into his old self—like he hadn’t spent the week watching you like a man possessed. But he was in his element, charming his nerdy circle, and you were happy just watching him thrive.
Then, it changed.
He didn’t introduce you as his stepsister. That alone cracked the air between you. His hand found your back, fingers tracing lazy nothings while he laughed with his friends, eyes on you like you were art.
You liked seeing him smile. Liked knowing you made it easier.
And then—he excused you both. His friends wished you luck with admissions. So polite. So clueless.
He walked you up a narrow hallway, like it was nothing. A quiet corridor, half-lit.
Then he locked you in a hug.
And kissed your neck.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, hands already exploring.
“You too,” you murmured, smiling. “New haircut? You kept it long in the back. Looks good.”
“You said I should, so...”
You smiled harder, went in for a kiss—your first. His lips were maddening. Soft, sure, and hungrier than you expected. He kissed like he’d waited for years. Like he’d decided waiting was over.
"Untie your dress," he whispered against your mouth, voice low.
You raised a brow, smirking. “Thought you liked watching from afar.”
His jaw flexed. “Not tonight.”
You let the ribbon fall, letting the dress slip open. Underneath—his gift. His breath caught.
“You like it?” you teased.
He didn’t answer. He spun you, pressed you into the wall, and his hand was already between your thighs—finding you soaked.
His mouth brushed your ear, voice cracking with restraint.
“Fuck. You’re so wet for me. I’ve waited so long.”
“Say it,” he growled.
“What?”
His thrust was sharp—two fingers deep.
“Say you want me to ruin you. Say you like it.”
You whimpered, arching into his hand. “I like it when you ruin me.”
“Say it right.”
You licked your lips. “I want to be yours, Heeseung. Ruin me.”
His exhale was jagged—like something inside him broke.
Then came silence. Just heat. Breathing. Fingers moving in and out of you as he grinded against your body, shameless and reckless in a hallway anyone could walk into.
And just before you came—he pulled away.
“No,” he said simply. “Let’s go.”
“Home?”
“No. My room.”
His dorm was massive, dark except for the red glow of a snoozed monitor. His roommate was nowhere. Probably never real to begin with. You practically jumped on him. Messy kisses. Wandering hands. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, your back—and then—
Your hand brushed his desk. The monitors flared to life. And there you were—your webcam feed, glowing on the screen.
Recording. Your name as the file.
“You always make me watch,” he whispered, stripping you down to the lingerie. “Now watch yourself.”
He pulled you onto the bed, body still facing the screen.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, spreading your legs for the camera. “I’ve owned you since the first time you stepped into this house.”
On screen—your reflection trembled. Moaned. Melted in real-time.
He eased fingers inside you again while holding you in his lap, pinching a nipple until you gasped, breath tangled.
“I know what you fantasize about when you’re bored,” he whispered.
He started humping you, slow and heavy.
“I know what kind of porn you scroll past—then go back to.”
Thrust.
“I know which songs you loop when you touch yourself. I synced your playlist.”
You choked on a gasp.
“I know you changed your passwords, just to make me mad.”
His hand curled lightly around your throat.
“But I like it. I like when you pretend.”
He never slowed—just kept pushing you higher, mean and relentless.
And when you moaned his name?
He broke.
“I’m going to give you every twisted thing you’ve ever typed,” he growled. “Every fantasy you deleted. Every filthy draft you couldn’t finish. I’m going to make them real.”
Your climax slammed into you, shuddering through your bones—but he didn’t stop.
“I’ll tie you up in the library when no one’s looking,” he said, voice wicked. “Bend you over your best friend’s bed and leave a bruise only I’ll recognize.”
He laughed.
“I’ll make you cry my name with someone else inside you—just to remind you no one will ever ruin you like I do.”
You turned and kissed him, wild and unhinged.
He kissed back like a claim. Like he was branding your soul.
Then he grabbed you and threw you onto the bed. Reached for a condom.
You stopped him.
“It’s safe today, Hee. Do me raw.”
His pupils darkened. Something dangerous sparked.
He freed himself and dragged his cock against your wetness, teasing your entrance. You moaned each time the head kissed you. His smile was smug. Addicted.
“Heeseung. Please.”
He nodded—and slid in all at once.
You gasped, overwhelmed, stretched so good it hurt in the most perfect way.
He rocked into you deep and slow, biting your neck, lips pressed against skin he couldn’t stop worshipping.
Then he pulled you upright—still inside you.
“You like this position, huh?”
You nodded, dizzy, undone. He studied you like he’d been preparing for a test. He always aced those.
Then—his thrusts changed. Not faster. Just deeper. Harder.
“Hee—”
“Like that, yeah?”
You nodded again, mouth open, breathless at every delicious, punishing thrust.
He looked so fucking good like this—hair sticking to his forehead, lips parted, eyes glazed with need. You went for another kiss and he gripped your neck, slid to your hair, pulling until your back arched.
“Like that?”
“Yeah—yeah—fuck—don’t stop—”
He sucked your tits, relentless now, chasing both your highs. You clenched down so hard his groans turned ragged. He bit your nipple, then folded you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
And then—he lost it.
He didn’t slow.
Not even as your body bucked under him, shaking.
He buried himself deeper, fingers biting into your hips, sweat dripping from his jaw as he fucked you like he wanted to unmake you.
The monitors kept rolling. Your name flashing on screen, over your own moans.
You reached for him—some desperate grasp for balance—but he pinned your wrists above your head, fucked you harder. One of your legs slipped off his shoulder, and he yanked it back up with a grunt.
“Keep it there,” he snarled, breath ragged. “Don’t move unless I say.”
You didn’t.
You couldn’t.
You were already too far gone.
You felt yourself stretch around him again, again, again—your walls pulsing and fluttering with every brutal thrust. It was filthy, unrelenting, and it wasn’t enough.
Heeseung's voice was in your ear, low and wrecked.
“This how you like it?” he panted. “Getting used like this—getting ruined on camera for me?”
You sobbed a yes—high and gasping—and he growled. His hips snapped forward again, this time shoving you higher on the bed.
“Fucking take it.”
He leaned in, biting your lip, grinding deeper. The rhythm turned meaner—each thrust slamming into you with brutal precision.
“You like knowing I’ll replay this?” he whispered. “Jerk off to it when you’re not around?”
You moaned helplessly.
“Want you to. I want you obsessed.”
“Oh, I am,” he said. “You made me this.”
His rhythm stuttered—he was close. You could feel him twitch inside, groaning against your mouth.
Then—
He came.
Hard.
Buried deep.
His whole body went taut over yours, shuddering as he emptied himself, hips rolling slower, deeper. You felt the heat inside you, the stickiness, the way his cock throbbed even after the high.
And still—he didn't pull out.
He kissed your collarbone, your throat, lazily now. Worn out. Quiet.
The screen behind him kept glowing.
Your body was wrecked, your heart pounding against his chest.
He pulled you close, like he wasn’t finished. Like he never would be.
The next morning, the sun barely broke past his blackout curtains. You were still half-naked in his sheets when you heard his fingers tapping at his laptop. A fresh hoodie hung off his shoulder, hair a messy halo.
“Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
You groaned into the pillow. “Already working?”
He smirked. “Coding clears my head. Better than coffee.”
You rolled over. He looked too good like this. Soft around the edges. Eyes warm.
“I wish you could come here,” he said. “To my university.”
You blinked, suddenly alert. He smiled, but it didn’t reach all the way. “You did apply, right?”
“…Yeah.”
He nodded like he already knew. “But you didn’t tell me…pfff.”
Your stomach turned, just a little, as you smirked. “I didn’t want you to be happy for something so unsure.”
“I know.”
Silence. He got back typing.
“You really think I wouldn’t find out?” he said. “You think I’d just… let you leave somewhere else?”
You narrowed your eyes. “What did you do?”
He smiled. Shrugged. “Nothing you’ll ever be able to prove.”
Your heartbeat slowed. Thick. Smiling unsure.
“Heeseung...”
He stood, walking over. Calm. Barefoot. Still smelling like last night and wanting more.
“I didn’t touch your application,” he said softly. “But I might’ve nudged the scholarship committee. You’re exceptional, after all.”
You froze. “Why?”
“Because you belong here, in that prestigious place and nowhere else.”
His fingers grazed your chin. Tender. Possessive.
“...With me.”
You swallowed. He tilted your face up to his, eyes half-lidded.
“You would've turned it down if you knew,” he murmured, getting his lips closer, smooching slowly. “You’re too proud for that kind of help. Too proud to admit you want to be kept.”
Your voice caught in your throat. “That’s not why I applied.”
“I know why you applied, just like me.”
His thumb ghosted over your lower lip.
“That’s why I made sure you’d stay. to be free.”
A flicker of something dangerous passed between you. Or maybe it had always been there. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.
“You think you’re playing me right now, huh,” he whispered, “but—what if I like being used, if it means I get to keep you?”
Your breath hitched. And he smiled. Like he’d already won. Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe you’d just let him believe he had.
Author’s Note:
Babies~ here it is!! 💗 The second part of my enha stepbro AU (first one was HUNTED).
I really hope this one pleased you… did it??? 🥺
I worked so hard on this piece to match the exact vibe I had in mind. Like—why was I waking up at 3 AM with wild ideas for scene effects that were borderline impossible to execute?! 😭🌀
This one definitely has a different flavor! While HUNTED leaned into soft, needy sub!Jakey energy (bless him), I wanted TRAPPED to explore the more intoxicating side of obsession—but not so far that we start hating our sweet little Heeseung~ Just a touch of crazy, y’know?
I really hope the mood translated well, because after rereading it 500 times, I fully lost that "first read magic" feeling I’m not super proud of this draft yet—kinda wish I had more time to proofread and polish it up. I’ll probably update it later (perfectionist problems 😭).
Next up is Part 3, which is supposed to be Sunghoon’s! Let me know if you want anything special in it—I’m all ears... and pervy brain. Just know it’s gonna involve dacryphilia, so bring tissues… for various reasons
Hey actually i had an idea like jake or heeseung being an tattoo artist and reader getting her 2nd tattoo, but on butt/or any places that might get him turned on. starting off with normal convo but soon turned really freaky.
oou i was serious when i said i got some really good reqs 🙂↕️
MDNI
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The first time you met Heeseung, it was on this same table, tilted to the side as he hovered over your neck with gloved hands and whispered, "You okay?" every two minutes while tattooing a tiny cross near your ear. He was painfully gentle, ridiculously focused. You remembered thinking, God, he smells so good.
You told yourself you wanted a second tattoo because they were addictive, but deep down, it was Heeseung you were addicted to.
So now you're back. And this time, you don't pick a hidden spot. No, you sit on the edge of the tattoo table and glance up at him through your lashes. "I want two butterflies," you say sweetly, tapping where the curve of your breast meets your rib.
Heeseung chokes on his own breath.
"L–Like there?" His ears flush pink as he gestures, like he's not exactly sure if he's allowed to look.
"Mhm," you hum. "Think it'll look cute?"
He clears his throat, pretending to flip through your intake form again. "Y–Yeah. Yeah, that's a good spot. Great skin there. Soft."
You smile. "You think my skin's soft?"
He freezes, eyes snapping to yours in horror. "I meant—it's—technically, all skin is—I just meant—"
"It's okay, Heeseung," you tease, already tugging your shirt down, slow and deliberate, exposing the top of your lace bra. "You're the professional."
He swallows hard, hands slightly trembling as he pulls on a fresh pair of gloves. The buzzing machine starts up, but his mind is miles away.
You're so warm under his hands. You don't flinch when he touches you to stencil the outline, but you do gasp a little when his knuckle brushes over the swell of your breast by accident. He pauses.
"I'm fine," you murmur, eyes fluttering. "You can keep going."
Heeseung doesn't speak, doesn't dare look you in the eye. But as the tattoo begins, your soft sighs start turning into barely-there whines. And you know exactly what you're doing when you shift slightly—just enough for your nipple to peek out under the fabric of your shirt.
"Shit," Heeseung whispers, backing away.
You tilt your head, biting your lip. "Something wrong?"
Heeseung's hand is steady, but his eyes keep flickering up—quick glances, like he's trying not to notice that your shirt has slipped low, the cup of your bra barely clinging on as you lean back in the chair with your arm behind your head, completely relaxed.
You're not helping.
"You've got such a soft touch," you murmur, voice lazy and warm, a little smile playing on your lips. "You always this gentle with your clients?"
He doesn't answer, he's been hovering over the edge of a breakdown since you walked in asking for a second tattoo so close to your fucking tit. Now, the top half of your breast is entirely exposed, your nipple just barely out of sight, until it's not. The lace of your bra shifts again, and it slips free.
You don't flinch. You just keep talking, easy as anything. "So... how'd you get into tattooing?" you ask, blinking up at him innocently.
Heeseung hesitates, machine paused mid-stroke. "Uh... I used to draw a lot. Got obsessed with linework."
"Mmm. You're really good at it," you hum, voice almost a purr now. "Do you have a favorite client?"
Heeseung looks like he's about to pass out. He pulls back slightly, setting the gun down on the tray with a clatter. "I—I can't do this."
You sit up just a little, letting the rest of your tit fall fully into view. "What do you mean?"
He stands, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I mean I can't fucking do this. You're sitting there with your—" He swallows. "—and you're talking like it's nothing. And I'm trying so hard not to lose it."
That's when you see it. The outline in his pants, painfully obvious, straining hard against the fabric.
Your grin is wicked. "Wait," you giggle softly, "are you hard right now? From a little side boob?"
Heeseung turns scarlet. "Don't—don't do that."
"Oh, come on," you coo, rising slowly, placing your palm right over the thick bulge. His hips jerk into your hand instinctively, and you feel the desperation. The way he's already twitching under your touch.
"Are you sure you want me to stop?" you whisper, lips close to his jaw now. "You don't look like you want me to."
He groans—like he's losing a battle. His fingers flex at his sides, jaw tight, body straining forward as your hand starts to move just slightly, stroking him through his jeans.
"I shouldn't," he mutters, voice cracking. "I'm—fuck, I'm your artist."
"But you want to be more than that, don't you?" you ask, low and syrupy, kissing up the column of his neck. "You want to ruin me right here, Heeseung? Make a mess on your own table?"
His hips roll again, seeking more pressure. He's rutting into your palm now, helpless and humiliated and so goddamn turned on he can barely think. His chest is rising and falling like he's just run a mile. Your hand stays exactly where it is, cupped over the thick outline in his pants and feeling it twitch in your palm like it has a mind of its own. He doesn't move. Doesn't even breathe properly. Just stares at you like you've short-circuited something deep inside him.
His eyes squeeze shut, a vein ticking at his jaw. "You can't just—" he rasps, hands clenched at his sides like he's physically holding himself back. "You can't just touch me like that and talk like everything's fucking normal."
You give him a slow squeeze.
He groans. The sound is raw, shame-laced, like he's already mad at himself for how good it feels.
"You don't want me to stop," you whisper. It's not a question this time.
His eyes flicker open, wild and uncertain. "Fuck—don't—"
You press a kiss just below his jaw, right where his pulse is hammering, and he shudders. That's when it happens—his hips jerk forward. Just a little. Just enough that you feel him grind himself against your palm more, chasing friction he doesn't even mean to seek.
"Oh my god," you whisper, smiling against his skin. "You're humping my hand, Heeseung?"
He lets out a pained whimper and grabs your wrist, not to stop you—he doesn't pull away—but just to hold it. Just to feel like he has some control over the unraveling.
"You're so mean," he mutters, barely above a whisper. "You don't even realize what you're doing to me."
You tilt your head, watching his breath stutter and shift your grip, a little firmer now, and he lets out a full-bodied groan, all low, desperate, and so fucking pretty it goes straight to your core.
His eyes are glazed over, dark and drowning. "If you keep doing that, I'm not gonna be able to stop."
"Who said I want you to?"
Silence. Thick and hot and full of tension.
Then something snaps. Something invisible but loud—like the sound of restraint giving way. He grabs your face and kisses you like he's starving. No hesitation now. No shy little glances or nervous coughs. His tongue is in your mouth, his hands already pulling your shirt off the rest of the way like it's in his way. And suddenly, it's not sweet or cute, it's needy and reckless.
You moan into his mouth as he manhandles you back onto the padded tattoo table, your legs spread wide without needing to be asked. He's on his knees a second later, yanking your shorts down your legs and tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. He's panting, lips swollen, sweat already forming at his temples.
"You—fuck—you don't know what you've started."
Then his mouth is on you.
And Heeseung? He eats like he's been fantasizing about this since the first day you walked into his shop. Tongue fucking you slow at first, savoring every flick, every whimper you let out. But the longer it goes, the more frantic he gets—sloppy sounds, fingers digging into your thighs, like he wants to make you messy, like he wants you to cum and cry and fall apart before he even thinks about getting inside you. "Oh fuck yeah." "Keep doing that"
You tug his hair hard, grinding against his face, and he moans into your pussy, shaking with it. When he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, there's a different look in his eyes now. Something primal and ruined.
And his pants are off in seconds.
"Hope you're not expecting anything soft," he breathes out. "Not after the shit you just pulled."
You just smile, letting your legs fall open wider, and whisper, "Then fuck me like you mean it." And he doesn't hesitate this time. His hand wraps around his cock, guiding it to your soaked entrance. He groans under his breath, not even fully inside yet, just watching the way your slick coats his tip.
"Fuck, you're wet," he breathes, voice shaking. "You like teasing me this much, huh? Getting off on how desperate I am?"
You blink up at him, breathless. "I like seeing how long you can pretend you're not losing your mind."
And then he pushes in—slow, steady, the stretch making your back arch off the chair.
You moan, loud and unfiltered, head tipping back. "Heeseung—"
"Oh my god," he hisses, gripping your waist tight as your cunt swallows him. "You feel so fucking good. Oh fuck, f-fuck."
He's not shy anymore, not even a little. The second he bottoms out, he's already moving, slow thrusts at first, deep and dragging, like he wants to feel every inch. But it doesn't take long before he's picking up the pace, grunting every time your walls squeeze around him.
"Sound so pretty when you moan," he pants, thrusting harder. "Could listen to you cry for me all day."
You're gasping now, clutching at his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist. He leans in close, forehead pressed to yours, and you can feel every ragged breath he takes.
"You always this tight?" he mutters, more to himself than you. "Or just for me?"
You try to answer, but it's just a sob, every stroke hitting that deep, perfect spot, your body giving out under the rhythm of his hips. The wet slap of skin-on-skin fills the room, and your moans rise in pitch as your release builds.
Heeseung watches your face twist in pleasure, eyes glazed and lips parted, and he groans again—louder this time, losing rhythm just slightly as he feels your walls flutter.
"You're close," he whispers, almost in awe. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't you?"
You nod frantically. "Yes—yes, please—"
"Then cum," he pants, barely coherent. "I'm not stopping."
You don't even realize you're crying out until your orgasm crashes through you, blinding and electric. Heeseung fucks you through it, watching your face, eyes hungry, loving the way you shake underneath him.
But he's not done.
He's still hard. Still moving, holding you open, pumping into your soaked, sensitive cunt like he's trying to mark you from the inside out.
"H-Heeseung, I—I can't—" you whimper.
"Yes, you can," he growls, kissing you hard. "You wanted this, right? Wanted to tease me? Now take it."
His voice drops, low and rough, and he drives into you harder, deeper, pulling your hips into his thrusts like he can't get close enough.
"Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you fall apart on my cock again."
You break.
Your second orgasm tears through you like a wave, your body jerking, clenching down so hard Heeseung lets out a strangled growl and shoves in deep, staying there.
But he doesn't stop. Doesn't slow.
Heeseung is fucking you through it again, watching every twitch of your body, every sob, every cry of his name. You're limp under him, trembling and sensitive, and wondering where he learned to fuck like this, but he just keeps going, drunk off the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him.
You're not even sure when you start begging, not sure what you're even saying anymore, just broken little words, strung together with whimpers.
And that's when he loses it.
He pulls out, just for a second, stroking himself fast and messy, his hips twitching. "Fuck—fuck—I'm gonna—"
You grab his hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "Inside."
He freezes. "What?"
"Cum inside me," you whisper, eyes glassy, voice wrecked. "Wanna feel it. Wanna keep it in."
He lets out a ragged moan, stumbles forward, and presses in again, deep, so deep, until he's seated to the hilt. And then he spills.
You feel every pulse, every throb, the warmth flooding you. You're both panting hard when he finally collapses on top of you, body trembling, skin flushed. And then—so soft, so Him—he looks up at you and whispers:
"I... think you're my favorite client."
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• a/n: please don’t have raw sex with your tattoo artist just cause you think they’re cute, well unless it’s heeseung 🙂↕️
also this got really out of hand😭 why is it 2k words long
➢ pairing: cowboy!jake x fem!reader … ﹒cowboy au, strangers to lovers, smut \\ ➢ synopsis: you’re trouble, and jake sim knows it. you flirt like it’s your job, wear sin like perfume, and make men beg without even trying. he’s the only cowboy who doesn’t chase you. so naturally, he’s the only one you want. a small-town, slow-burn, filthy little game of who breaks first. ➢ word count: 9.5k
➢ warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral sex (f and m receiveing), unprotected sex (dont do it!!), public-ish sex, dirty talk, possessive!jake, softdom!jake, bratty!reader, spanking, cum eating, praise and degradation, cowboy kink™, jake is a menace but so are you, yeehaw but make it slutty
you’re wiping down the counter when you say it, voice low and lazy, like it’s just another tuesday night and not the kind of sentence that rearranges a man’s brain chemistry.
“i like my boys playing hard to get.”
you don’t mean it to land anywhere in particular. you’re just talking, tossing it out there between gossip, your voice sweet, meant only for the girl beside you. so she laughs, nudges you with her hip. “you mean the ones who ghost you after three days?”
“no,” you sigh, stretching like a cat behind the bar. “i mean the ones who pretend they don’t care. the ones too proud to beg. makes it more fun when they do.”
you say it like it’s a joke, but you mean every word. and across the room, jake sim hears you.
he hadn’t meant to. hadn’t even realized he was eavesdropping until the words tangled around him. he’s not the type to pay attention to chatter. he’s been coming to this place for years, knows how to tune out the flirting and the country drawls and the clink of empty glasses. but your voice is different. and he’s seen you around, of course. everyone has.
you’re the kind of girl people build myths around. the kind they write country songs about, because you have a laugh that could ruin a man. and every guy in town’s tried his luck. most ended up a little poorer, a little dumber, and twice as obsessed. and you never even blinked.
so when you breeze past his table, tray balanced on your palm, perfume trailing like a challenge, jake doesn’t move. doesn’t shift, doesn’t look up from his drink. not obviously, at least. he doesn’t give you the satisfaction. and you notice. oh, you notice. because you’re used to stares, to whistles and clumsy compliments and boys who fall over themselves to hand you things you never asked for. you’re used to the way they sit up straighter when you walk by, the way their words fumble out of their mouths like dropped coins.
but this one? this one just sits there. quiet and unmoved.
you catch him watching only once, just once, when you lean forward to grab a bottle from the bottom shelf, and when your eyes flick up, his are already somewhere else. not pretending, not faking it, just gone. and it pisses you off more than it should.
you don’t say anything. you just toss your hair over your shoulder and smile at the other girl again, louder this time. “i like my men all incompetent,” you declare, tucking a dollar into your apron, “and i swear they choose me, i’m not choosing them.”
jake lifts his beer to his lips, slow. doesn’t smile. doesn’t even smirk. and for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel in control of the game. you hate that, but you also love that.
but you definitely hate rodeos.
too loud and sweaty. too many men with too little brain and too much cologne. it’s just the same loop every time—horses, hats, hollering, and someone calling you “sweet cheeks” like that’s supposed to make you blush instead of gag. normally, you stay far away. but tonight’s different. because you heard jake sim was riding.
so you show up. late, of course, on purpose. your boots crunch over dirt and beer cans as you make your way through the crowd, hips swinging just enough to remind everyone you don’t walk, you arrive. every man you pass straightens his spine like you might look at him if he behaves, and every woman rolls her eyes in that half-jealous way they always do.
but you don’t care. you’re not here for them. you’re here for the man on the horse.
and when you spot him, out in the pen, one hand gripping the reins, the other resting light against his thigh, you feel that slow, low flutter in your stomach that tastes a little like trouble. because he’s wearing that stupid hat again, the same beat-up one that sits just low enough to make his eyes a mystery and his mouth a promise. his shirt’s rolled up to the elbows, collar unbuttoned, forearms dusted with dirt and sin. he looks like sin. he rides like sin.
you lean against the fence, pop a piece of gum into your mouth, and pretend you’re not watching. but you are, everyone is. but he doesn’t look into the crowd, not once. he doesn’t wave, doesn’t show off, doesn’t even smile. he just focuses—on the gate, on the bull, on the seconds ticking down before the chaos. there’s something precise about it, almost like he’s not here to perform, just to win.
and you hate how hot that is.
when the gate finally opens and he bursts out, body moving like he’s part of the beast beneath him, the whole crowd goes wild. people scream, hats fly, beer spills. but you just chew your gum and watch. he holds on longer than anyone else that night. and when he lands, smooth and sharp and smug, your stomach does a traitorous little flip.
he still doesn’t look at you. not even when he walks past, later, towel slung over his shoulder, shirt sticking to his back, sweat dripping down his neck like something out of a country girl’s fantasy.
you’re standing by the concession stand now, pretending to look at overpriced chili fries when he walks right past you again. and for the first time, maybe in ever, you don’t know what to do with that. because everyone looks at you. everyone wants something from you.
but jake sim? jake sim doesn’t even blink.
you pop your gum again, louder than necessary. he still doesn’t turn. bastard. so you lick your lips, tilt your head, and mutter just loud enough for the girl next to you to hear—just loud enough for him to maybe hear, too— “god, i hate cowboys.”
except you don’t. you really, really don’t.
so you decide to wear red on saturday. not a soft red. not a muted, tasteful, wine-country red. no, this is bright, dangerous, stop-sign red. the kind that glitters when you walk and blasphemes when you bend. you slip it on slow, knowing exactly what it does to your body and your ego. it’s the kind of dress that starts fights and finishes them.
you don’t wear it for him, not technically. but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t check your lipstick twice before heading to the bar, or if you hadn’t spent a good three minutes wondering if jake sim was the type of man who noticed sequins.
(it turns out—he isn’t.)
he’s already there when you walk in, sitting in his usual corner like a piece of furniture carved from patience and denim. same hat, same shirt, same maddeningly blank expression. he doesn’t flinch when you walk by. doesn’t scan your legs like every other man. doesn’t lean over to whisper something to his friend and then laugh too loud. he just looks. once. and then looks away.
you could scream. instead, you smile. you spend the next hour putting on a show—not for him, of course, never that. just for… the atmosphere. you take extra time leaning over the bar. you laugh a little louder, let your fingers trail longer. you flirt, you twirl, you dance like you’re made of sugar and smoke.
and he just sits there. solid. steady and stoic in the face of sin.
when the jukebox shifts to something slow and sweaty, your friend pulls you out from behind the bar and spins you onto the floor. you go willingly, you always do. you dance with her, and then with some other guy, who’s a terrible flirt but a decent dancer. you laugh as you move, hips swaying, hands up, hair stuck to your neck. people cheer, whistles echo. someone shouts your name.
and still, jake sim doesn’t look. he sits there, beer untouched, fingers drumming slowly against the table. his eyes are on the wall, or the floor, or nowhere at all. you want to throw a chair at him. instead, you press your body just a little closer, let your head tip back, your laughter bubble out like champagne.
and for half a second, just half, you swear you can feel his gaze. but by the time you glance over, it’s gone.
you finish the dance anyway, cheeks flushed from effort or ego or something worse, and when you walk past jake’s table again, you pause. just enough. he still doesn’t say anything. but his knuckles are white around the bottle, and that’s something.
and you’re not much of a smoker, not really. it’s more about the image. the ritual of it—door swinging shut behind you, the hum of the saloon dulling into background noise, a lighter flicked slowly. you like the weight of the cigarette between your fingers, the way it makes your mouth look meaner. you especially like the way people look at you when you do it.
on sunday, though, the sidewalk is mostly empty. the neon sign above the door buzzes like it’s dying, and your heels click against the pavement. you’re alone, almost. because he’s there. leaning against his truck—of course it’s a truck, stupid and long and matte black— arms crossed, hat low, chewing on a toothpick like he was placed there by god.
you try not to look. but of course you fail.
“you always stand like that,” you say, taking a drag and blowing smoke sideways, “or is this a special occasion?”
he doesn’t turn, god, he doesn’t even smile. “like what?” he asks, voice low and scratchy, like he only uses it when necessary.
you flick ash toward the gravel and shift your weight, one hip out, just enough to suggest: i am here and i am wearing very little. so you say: “like you’re being painted,” you say. “by someone too obsessed with denim.”
that gets a reaction, barely—a twitch at the corner of his mouth. nothing close to a smile, but you count it anyway. “you don’t like denim?” he asks.
“i like it just fine,” you say, letting your eyes travel up and down. “i just think it likes you a lot.”
he hums, quiet and unfazed. the toothpick shifts from one side of his mouth to the other with devastating nonchalance. “you always flirt like that?” he asks finally, and it’s almost cruel, the way he says it—like he’s calling you out without even looking at you.
you tilt your head. “like what?”
“like you’re bored.”
you take another drag, slower this time. it buys you a second. maybe two. “i’m not bored,” you say. “i’m offended.”
he finally looks at you then. really looks. not a glance, not a flick of the eyes, but a slow, full scan that starts at your boots and ends at your mouth. “offended?”
“yeah,” you say. “you’re the first man in town who hasn’t tried to get a shot with me.”
he raises an eyebrow. your breath hitches, and you curse yourself for it. because god damn it. he pushes off the truck, and he steps forward, just one step, just close enough for you to smell him. smoke and leather and desert heat. “that why you came out here?” he asks. “to collect another admirer?”
“no,” you say, a little too quickly. “i came out to smoke.”
he nods, glances at your cigarette. “you’re holding it backwards.”
you look down, you are. shit.
he walks past you then, amused and infuriatingly tall, back toward the saloon. and just before the door swings shut behind him, he tosses the toothpick into the dirt and says, without looking: “you’ll have better luck with someone who gives a damn, sweetheart.”
you stand there for a minute, blinking smoke out of your eyes, lips parted in disbelief, cigarette still backwards in your hand. you don’t know whether to chase him or marry him. probably both.
the annual summer festival happens a week later, and the whole town’s lost its damn mind. kids run wild, drunk uncles argue, and there’s a man singing country ballads off-key on the main.
and you look stunning, obviously. short dress, boots too clean to be from here, a pair of sunglasses you don’t need but wear anyway. you walk through the crowd like you’re not sweating like everyone else. and your arm? it’s linked tightly through lee heeseung’s. the sheriff’s son. walking cologne bottle. he thinks calling women “sugar tits” is flirtation and not a felony. you smile like he’s the most charming thing this town’s ever coughed up. and across the lot, jake sees everything.
he’s standing near the fence, drink in hand, chewing on his pride. he looks like a warning sign, his arms crossed so tight his biceps look like they’re planning a mutiny. he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t even pretend not to be watching. you glance at him once, and once is enough.
you laugh louder. lean closer to heeseung, who’s talking about god-knows-what—his truck, his workout, his daddy’s badge—and you nod like you care. every move is calculated. every smile is a weapon. because you know exactly what you’re doing. so you excuse yourself after a while, muttering something about needing another drink, slipping away from heeseung before he can say something else that’ll make your ears bleed. you walk through the back, your boots clicking fast.
you’re halfway to the bar when you feel a heat at your back.
“fun night?” his voice is behind you. dry and quiet.
you don’t turn around right away. you let the moment hang. and then you say, “depends,” running a hand through your hair like it’s not dripping down your neck. “you havin’ fun watching?”
he steps in closer. you feel him before you see him, his chest just a breath away from your shoulder. “you always hang off men you don’t like?” he asks, voice low enough to make your knees consider collapsing.
you shrug. “what makes you think i don’t like him?”
“you’re bored. i know what you look like when you’re havin’ fun.”
you hate how that line makes your stomach twist. hate it more that he’s right. so you finally turn to face him, hands on your hips, head tilted with mock sweetness. “what, jealous?”
he laughs. it’s short and dark. “of lee heeseung?” he scoffs. “sweetheart, i’m jealous of his dog before i’m jealous of him.”
you bite your lip to hide the smile, and you fail. “then why are you here?” you ask, eyes locking onto his.
he leans in, just enough to make you dizzy. his gaze dips—down your lips, down your throat, down your dress—and lingers there, shameless. he looks like he wants to say more. or do more. and you kind of wish he would. but instead, he straightens up, steps back, and lets the space between you fill with heat again.
“because, darling, next time you wanna get under someone’s skin,” he says, “maybe pick a man who ain’t wearin’ daddy’s badge.”
and just like that, he turns and walks off. no touch. not even a goddamn smirk. you’re left standing there, pulse racing, drink forgotten, mouth parted like a woman halfway to disaster.
you fan yourself with your hand, mutter to no one, “fuck my life.”
and over the next few weeks, jake sim makes a habit out of losing his mind quietly.
he tells himself he’s just thirsty. that’s the only reason he keeps showing up to the saloon. he tells himself that every night he parks that stupid truck in the same stupid spot and walks through the same door into the same bar where you’re working, and where you, lately, won’t even look at him.
and that’s what kills him. because you used to look. all big eyes and evil little smiles, like you were constantly cooking up something sinful and he was the poor bastard about to taste it.
but now? now you barely glance in his direction. you walk past him like he’s just another part of the furniture. take other tables. pour drinks with your back to him. laugh at other men’s jokes.
and jake watches silently. desperately. he tries not to, he really does. but his eyes betray him every time. they flick to you the second you walk by—legs bare, hair pulled back with a pen, lips glossed to hell. you smell like vanilla and cigarette smoke, and it’s infuriating how much he wants to bite that smell off your throat.
and the worst part is that he knows you’re doing it on purpose. because sometimes, just sometimes, he catches the way your mouth twitches when you pass his table. the way you shift your weight a little slower, lean over a little further when you’re grabbing something. and when he doesn’t look up—when he pretends not to notice—you bite your lip like you’re trying not to laugh.
you’re playing hard to get. which is adorable, really. but it works. fuck, it works.
jake sim, who’s spent most of his adult life being aggressively unbothered, now sits at this bar like a man possessed. he sips beer and imagines things he shouldn’t. he watches your mouth wrap around straws and thinks about how it’d look wrapped around something else entirely. he stares at your hands pouring drinks and thinks about them fisting in his shirt, pressed against his belt, sliding down—
he coughs. shifts in his seat. takes another sip and pretends like he’s not half hard just because you leaned against the fridge five minutes ago.
he doesn’t talk to you. hasn’t, since the festival. because that would mean giving in. and if there’s one thing jake sim is worse at than feelings, it’s losing. but god, the way you walk? the way you smile at the wrong people? the way you drop the occasional “cowboy” into a sentence like it’s not meant to ruin him?
it’s almost sweet, the way you’re trying to get under his skin. but also: it’s working. and he thinks, not for the first time, that if you asked—if you looked at him a certain way—he’d let you wreck his entire life. you could tie him to the back of his own truck, spit on his mouth, call him useless in front of god and the sheriff, and he’d probably thank you.
but you don’t look at him anymore. you just brush past him one more time, close enough for your skirt to kiss his knee, and say to no one in particular, real sweet: “why so sexy if so dumb?”
and jake swears to god he’s gonna start a bar fight just to calm down.
but the moment you step onto the dirt lot of the fairgrounds, sundress fluttering and sunglasses perched high on your nose, his brain short-circuits. he sees you the second you walk in. he pretends not to, of course. jake sim has made an olympic sport out of pretending you don’t exist. but you’re here, again. and he’s fucked.
he’s in the chute, adjusting his gloves, boots already caked in dust, chest strapped down tight like it might explode. he tells himself to focus on the ride, on the bull, on anything but the way your thighs are peeking out from under that goddamn dress.
you shouldn’t be here. he was hoping you’d show up, obviously, but now that you’re actually here, it feels like a setup. like god’s decided to make him fail in front of everyone and look good doing it. so he refuses to look directly at you. not while you’re standing near the fence, leaning against the railing like you’re modeling for the “ruin a man” calendar. not while you’re laughing at something some poor bastard just said, tossing your hair over your shoulder. and certainly not when you suck on that red snow cone.
he adjusts his hat lower. counts backward from ten. tries to remember how to breathe.
he’s still got it under control—mostly—until the moment he’s mounting the bull and glances toward the crowd just once. just a peek. and there you are, watching, with your lip between your teeth and a look that could sterilize holy water.
he slips. just a little. just enough for one boot to miss its mark and his hand to falter on the rope. no one notices. not really. but he does.
the ride still goes fine. better than fine, actually. he makes it the full eight seconds, lands smooth, wipes the sweat off his brow like he’s not a mess on the inside. like he didn’t almost fall off a 1,500-pound animal because you were licking syrup off your finger.
later, after the noise dies down, after the dust settles and the crowd starts dispersing into beer and music and gossip, you find him. he’s near the back of the stables, away from the noise. hat off, hair damp, shirt sticking to his back in places that make your hands twitch.
you lean against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted. he sees you coming. of course he does.
you don’t say anything right away. just look him over like you’re checking for bruises. “didn’t fall this time,” you say.
“not for lack of tryin’,” he mutters.
you raise an eyebrow. “the bull or me?”
he doesn’t answer. you take that as a win. so you step closer, slow. toe the dirt with your boot, pretend to be casual. but everything about you tonight is a performance, and he knows it. the cherry lip gloss. the dress with buttons that strain when you breathe. the way you keep shifting your weight like your thighs are begging for attention. you’re trying to get to him, and you are. but he’ll die before he admits it.
“you always ride that well,” you say, voice syrupy and cruel, “or was that just for me?”
“don’t flatter yourself, darlin’.”
“too late,” you grin. “flattered myself the whole way here.”
he laughs at that, but he still doesn’t move. you take another step. now you’re in front of him, barely a breath of air between your bodies. the tension crackles, like something’s about to snap. he looks down at you, his jaw tight, eyes darker than usual. you could kiss him, you could push him. you could drop to your knees and he wouldn’t stop you. but he stays still. and you know what that means. he’s losing it. slowly and deliciously.
so you just smile, all teeth and trouble, and say: “you gonna say thank you for coming, or do i gotta leave and come back so you can do it right?”
he looks down at you and decides—fuck it. if this is a game, he’s gonna play. so his hand lifts. two fingers hook lazily in your belt in your dress, just enough to make your breath hitch and your knees forget how to behave. he doesn’t pull, doesn’t tug, just lets it sit there. you blink up at him like you weren’t expecting him to do this. because you weren't.
“thought you came to watch the ride,” he says, voice like gravel and heat. “didn’t know you were hopin’ to start one.”
you’re stunned for a second, flustered. but you recover fast. your hand comes up, trailing a single finger down the buttons of his shirt, slowly. and you giggle. you say nothing, you only giggle and smile. then you step back, leaving him standing there with nothing but the smell of your perfume and a growing problem in his jeans. he blinks once. twice. and you’re already gone.
a few days later, he sees you again at the gas station. you’re sitting on the hood of your car. your car is pink, of course it’s pink. girly in that deadly way. floral air freshener, fuzzy dice, a sparkly steering wheel cover and a bumper sticker that probably says something like “yee-haw, bitch.”
you’re licking a cherry lollipop. wearing the tiniest pair of shorts known to mankind and a tank top that does nothing to hide your agenda. your legs are crossed, one foot bouncing lazily in the air like you have nowhere to be and every intention of being stared at. and people are staring. two guys walk by, heads snapping so fast they nearly sprain something. an old man in a tractor cap gives a long, disapproving look that lasts until he crashes into a trash can.
you? you smile sweetly. wave. keep sucking on that lollipop like you’re not ruining lives. and jake watches from the far pump, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying so hard not to enjoy the sight of you doing exactly what you do best.
and then, just like you’ve sensed him from across the lot, you slide off the hood, sway your hips across the concrete, and approach him with the most dangerous sentence in your arsenal: “cowboy,” you say, “i think i got a flat.”
he raises an eyebrow. looks at your car. no flat. you grin like the liar you are. “could you check for me?” you ask, voice all syrup and fake innocence. “i’d do it myself, but—” you shrug, twisting a strand of hair around your finger. “i don’t wanna chip a nail.”
he stares at you and you stare back. he knows what this is. you want him on his knees. and god help him—he’s thinking about it.
“you sure?” he says, tone dry. “seems like you’re the type to pop a tire just to see what crawls out the woodwork.”
“you caught me,” you beam.
he sighs, but he walks over anyway. you trail behind, delighted, watching him crouch down in front of your car, like he is your personal cowboy-themed thirst trap come to life. he’s in front of you, all strong hands and dirty jeans, touching your tires like it’s a performance.
you lean back against the hood. cross your legs the other way. suck louder on the lollipop, just to be mean. and jake knows the tire’s fine, he also knows he’s losing. and when he looks up—sweat on his brow, eyes half-lidded, gaze landing right between your crossed legs—you don’t say a word. you just smile and keep chewing. you got what you wanted: him on his knees.
and it happens on a thursday. the saloon’s half-full, sticky with the usual noise, and you’ve got a tray in one hand. you spot him before he sees you. or maybe he lets you think that. he’s sitting at the bar, same stool as always. sipping something dark with his hat tipped low and one leg stretched out like the floor belongs to him. he’s talking to someone, a girl you don’t recognize, leaning in just enough to make your stomach twist.
he’s smiling. he never smiles, at least not like that. and that’s when it hits you: he’s doing it on purpose.
your first instinct is to roll your eyes. your second is to walk over there and ruin both their nights. instead, you drop off your tray at the counter, smooth your skirt, and remind yourself that you’re not bothered. not even a little. so you circle around the bar, busy yourself with orders. chat with a guy in a cowboy hat, laugh too loud, lean too close. and eventually, you feel that static buzz that only comes from being watched.
you turn your head, and of course he’s looking. not just looking, jake is devouring. his eyes trail down your legs, up your hips, pause at your chest like he’s making a list of crimes he’d commit if the sheriff weren’t his boss’s daddy. and your heart stutters, your mouth dries. you take a step toward him before you even realize it.
but then he gets up and walks past you, doesn’t say a word. and you think, what the hell?
but then his hand brushes yours, just barely. like an accident that wasn’t an accident. you whip around to say something sharp, but he’s already halfway to the door. and you follow. you don’t mean to, really, but you do. you catch him near the back hallway, one hand braced against the wall, like he knew you’d come after him.
you open your mouth to say something clever, but he steps in real close. close enough that your back hits the wall and your knees almost collapse. “somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” he asks, voice all silk.
“what was that?” you hiss, trying not to stare at his mouth. “flirting with that girl like i wasn’t in the room?”
he smirks. smirks. “didn’t know i needed permission.”
you cross your arms. push your chest up just enough to be annoying. “you’re playing games.”
he shrugs. “so are you.” his hand lifts, not to touch you (the bastard’s too good for that), but to brush a piece of lint off your shoulder. “you looked a little jealous,” he murmurs, voice dipped in sin. “cute look on you.”
your pulse stutters, but you refuse to show it. “you’re gonna die alone,” you say, breathier than intended.
“probably,” he says. “but not before i ruin you first.”
you suck in a breath. his face is right there, close enough that if you leaned forward, you’d taste the whiskey on his lips. you think he might do it, you think maybe this is it. but he doesn’t kiss you. instead, he leans in slow, his breath hot against your cheek, then presses a kiss right there, soft and warm and maddening. the kind of kiss that doesn’t take anything but still leaves you ruined.
then he pulls back. smirking, so smug and infuriating. “goodnight, sweetheart,” he says. and then he walks away, like he didn’t just light a fire in your chest and leave it burning.
and there’s a party on the edge of town on that week—somebody’s cousin’s birthday or maybe just an excuse to drink next to a fire. there’s music blasting out of speakers in the back of a lifted truck, people doing shots, and you’re there, of course, making every poor bastard lose his mind just by existing.
you’re wearing denim shorts and a little white top that ties in the front, and jake sim wants to fight the concept of clothing for making something that looks that illegal.
he sees you before you see him. and he sees heeseung before you do. pretty boy with too-white teeth and too many opinions about his own biceps. he’s been in love with you since high school and never got the hint. but tonight, you’re letting him talk. you’re laughing, you’re standing close. and you don’t even have to look across the fire to know jake’s watching.
you toss your hair over your shoulder. heeseung says something about his new truck and how it “purrs like a mountain cat,” which isn’t a thing, but you smile anyway. you’re about to make some flirty comment just to push it further when a hand wraps around your arm.
not rough, not mean, just firm. you whip around and there he is. jake. his face is unreadable. calm, almost. but his grip says something else entirely.
you blink. “well, hey there, cowboy—”
“walk,” he says.
you try to act annoyed, dramatic. “what if i don’t feel like—”
“walk.”
so you do. he leads you away from the fire, away from the crowd, toward the gravel lot where his truck is. you expect him to say something, yell, maybe. accuse you of something dramatic and delicious. but instead, he spins you around and presses you up against the passenger door.
his hand is still on your arm. the other braces beside your head. his body doesn’t touch yours, not really, but he’s close enough that you can feel the heat off his skin and the tension coiled under it. you blink up at him, wide-eyed and fake-innocent. “is this how you treat all your women, cowboy? dragging them into parking lots and pinning them to cars?”
“no,” he says. “just the ones who know better.”
you gasp softly, it’s almost a laugh. “oh, so now you’re mad?”
he leans in, mouth inches from yours, eyes dark and hungry. “you wore that top on purpose.”
you smirk. “maybe i was hot.”
he looks down, pointedly. “you are. and you know what you’re doin’.”
“do i?”
he exhales sharp through his nose, like he’s trying not to combust. and when he speaks again, his voice is lower. “you really want him to touch you? that what you’re lookin’ for?”
you blink slow and wet your lips. “maybe i just want somebody who actually does it.”
the look on his face shifts just slightly. then he leans in. you think this time it’ll happen, finally, the kiss, the collapse. the moment the game ends. but instead, his lips graze your jaw, not your mouth. his hand dips low, fingers brushing the hem of your shorts like he’s thinking about it.
“you don’t want ‘somebody,’” he whispers. “you want me.” you’re not breathing. he pulls back again, just enough to leave you gasping in the space between what was almost and what still isn’t. “but you’ll have to beg, sweetheart,” he adds, smirking. “and i don’t think you’re ready to do that yet.”
he turns like he’s going to walk away again, like that’s the last word. like he didn’t just light a match and drop it between your legs. but this time, you don’t let him. your hand shoots out fast and grabs his belt loop. he pauses and stills, and slowly, turns his head back toward you.
“you think i won’t?” you ask, voice low and deadly sweet.
he looks down at your hand, still fisted in his jeans like a challenge. then his eyes flick back up to yours—dark, wild, curious. he steps closer, just one step. then another. until he’s right in front of you again, and this time there’s no space. no teasing, no gaps. just you, caught between a truck door and the worst mistake you want to make.
he leans in. both hands come to rest on either side of your head. caging you in and claiming the air between you. “careful now,” he murmurs, voice rough. “you’re not the only one who likes to play.”
and then his knee presses forward, between your legs. you gasp. it’s not subtle, not even a little. he fits it there, deliberate and slow, until your thighs part just enough to make room for the solid weight of him. his thigh is strong and warm. your breath catches and your fingers twitch where they’re tangled in his shirt.
he’s watching your face. watching your mouth, like he’s trying to memorize the exact second you lose composure. but you don’t, you smile. then, slow and wicked, you roll your hips just a little against his thigh—enough to make him grunt, low in his throat, like he wasn’t ready for it. “you started it,” you say, feigning innocence. “don’t get shy now, cowboy.”
he exhales sharp. one of his hands drops and wraps tight around your waist, pulling you flush against him. your shorts ride up. the pressure of his thigh against you gets sharper, filthier, almost unbearable. “you think this is a joke?” he growls.
“no,” you breathe. “i think it’s foreplay.”
his hand tightens. he shifts his thigh just barely upward, grinding it between your legs, and you have to bite your lip to keep the sound in. he leans in, mouth ghosting over your ear. “i could make you come like this,” he says, voice like a sin you want to confess over and over. “right here, against my truck, with nothin’ but my thigh between your legs.”
you shiver, but you smile. “you talk a big game,” you whisper, lips brushing his jaw. “but so far all you’ve done is flex in tight jeans and give me blue balls.”
he lets out a sharp laugh, dangerous. then his hands drop to your hips, grip possessive, and he rolls you against his thigh again. this time harder and filthier. like he wants to see how far you’ll let it go. your knees almost buckle. your head hits the truck window. but your hands are in his hair now, pulling, tugging, dragging his face closer.
and still he doesn’t kiss you. you pant, flushed and desperate and mad as hell. he just smirks. “look at you,” he says. “makin’ a mess on me and i haven’t even touched you proper.”
you glare at him and your lip curls in frustration. “maybe you’re scared.”
he arches a brow. “of what?”
“of me.” you press down hard against his thigh again—your move now, your game—and you feel him tense. feel him curse under his breath like you’ve just won a round he didn’t even know he was playing. you lean in and whisper against his mouth: “i could ruin you.”
he inhales sharp. you swear you hear him mutter fuck. but still, still he doesn’t kiss you. he pulls back, eyes wild, chest rising and falling like he just ran a mile.
and then he steps away. leaves you there. aching and panting. blinking like you just came out of a trance. “one of these days, sweetheart,” he says, adjusting his belt like he needs a minute. “you’re gonna be the one beggin’.”
and then he climbs into the driver’s seat and drives away. you stare after him, thighs trembling, heart racing, and mutter:
“i’m gonna set his truck on fire.”
and jake sim spends the week trying not to think about you. which is stupid, because you’re everywhere. in his sheets, in his hands, in his mouth when he mutters fuck at two in the morning and fists his hair like it’ll shake you out of his head.
he sees you in the curve of a beer bottle. in the red of a stoplight. in the fucking grocery store, standing in front of a watermelon display like you invented sin.
he can’t focus. can’t sleep. can’t work. every time he bends over a fence or climbs into the truck, he hears your voice in his ear: i could ruin you. every time he closes his eyes, he sees your thighs wrapped around his fucking leg. he’s losing it. actually, clinically losing it.
and the worst part is that he let it happen. he swore he wouldn’t. told himself he wasn’t like the rest of them—the boys who lined up for your attention like fools in heat. he used to watch you tease and twist and toy with every man in town and laugh. not because he didn’t get it, because he did. but now he’s just another name on your list. and he hates it.
he’s a grown man. a cowboy, for christ’s sake. he should be immune to lip gloss and flirty banter and skirts short enough to send him to jail. but he’s not. and the worst part is that you know, you know what you’re doing. you know exactly how to stand, how to talk, how to glance up with that little tilt of your head like oops, did i break you again?
and he’s fucking gone. he’s a freak for it. a perv. he thinks about your mouth at church. he imagines your legs wrapped around his waist when he’s driving. he’s so far gone it’s pathetic.
so on thursday, when the thought of you cleaning up at the saloon alone hits him like a truck, he doesn’t fight it. he gets in the truck, drives like the devil’s chasing him. when he gets there, the bar is dark, empty. just the faint sound of clinking glasses and a broom dragging across the floor.
you’re behind the counter. sweaty and tired. loose hair falling around your face. still the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen.
the door creaks open. you don’t look up. “we’re closed,” you call out, distracted.
then you lift your head, and you pause. your lips part.
his boots hit the floor. he doesn’t say a word. just crosses the room in four heavy steps, reaches for your wrist, and pulls you in like he needs you to breathe. and then— he kisses you.
not sweet. not shy, not teasing. hot, open and filthy.
he groans when your mouth opens under his, when your fingers clutch his shirt like you’ve been waiting for this just as long. his hands are everywhere, your waist, jaw, the small of your back. he kisses like he’s mad about it, like this is a punishment.
your back hits the counter. your teeth knock. a glass falls off. and still, he kisses you like he’s trying to erase the space between you.
he pulls back just enough to speak, breath hot on your cheek. “you win,” he mutters. “is that what you wanna hear?”
you’re panting, flushed. “not yet,” you whisper. “i like my man playing real hard to get,” you whisper, breath ghosting his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to tease.
and that’s the moment he snaps. his hands come up, cup your jaw like he’s trying to memorize it, and he kisses you hard, messy and desperate. and you moan, you can’t help it. he tastes like whiskey and salt and everything you’ve been dreaming about at three in the morning.
his hips press forward, tight against yours, grinding you back into the edge of the counter like he wants to leave a dent in your spine. and you grin against his lips. you reach back blindly, “you gonna keep kissing me like a saint,” you pant, pulling back, “or you gonna bend me over something, cowboy?”
his eyes go dark. “oh, you wanna act like a brat now?” he growls.
you smirk. “what gave it away?”
he grabs you, lifts you right off the floor and sets you down on a table like you weigh nothing. your legs part without hesitation and he steps between them, his hips hard against yours, and his hands gripping your thighs like he’s trying to decide which one he wants to ruin first. “look at you,” he mutters, eyes trailing down your body. “pretty little mouth, dirty little attitude.”
you tilt your head, all fake innocence. “you like it.”
he leans in close, mouth against your ear. “i’m gonna fuckin’ break you.”
your breath vanishes. his fingers trail up your thigh, slow, teasing, maddening. he doesn’t go where you want him, but just next to it, brushing the edges, watching you squirm. “i know what you need,” he murmurs. “you need someone to shut that mouth. teach you some fuckin’ manners.”
you wrap your legs around his waist. “you volunteering?”
he laughs, low and filthy. “baby, i’ve been applying for that job all month.” then he grinds forward, slow and mean, dragging a moan out of you that echoes across the empty bar. you gasp and clutch at his shoulders. he grabs your hips, presses them down, holds you there. “no running now,” he mutters. “you been beggin’ for this.”
you roll your hips up into his. “you liked it.”
he groans, kissing down your neck, biting just enough to make you gasp again. “liked it so much i nearly wrecked my truck thinkin’ about you.” his hand slips under your top. calloused fingers on your skin, rough and reverent all at once. he palms your chest like he’s claiming it. like he’s mad you let anyone else look. you arch into him, moaning. “so impatient,” he teases, voice a growl. “what happened to makin’ me beg, sweetheart?”
“shut up and fuck me.”
he smirks against your throat. “say please.”
you groan, kick your heels against his ass. “cowboy—”
“say it.”
you hiss, then lean in and bite his lip. “please.”
he pulls back just enough to smirk, breath hot against your lips. “please what?” he asks, voice low, gravel rough.
you glare at him, or at least, you try to. but your legs are wrapped around his waist, your hips aching for friction, and his hand is already creeping up your thigh like he’s got nowhere to be but inside you. so you say it, no shame. no power left to pretend. “please, fuck me, jakey.”
he groans loudly, like the words physically hit him. then he mutters something that sounds like jesus fucking christ, and crashes his mouth into yours. and this kiss is different. it is hungry and starving. he grinds against you, slow and hard, pressing you down into the table with the full weight of his body. your shirt rides up. your back arches. the wood creaks underneath like it might give out, and honestly—if it breaks, let it. you’ll thank it for its service.
his hands are everywhere. palming your thighs, squeezing your ass, gripping your waist like he owns it. “look at you,” he rasps, lips trailing down your throat. “fuckin’ dream girl of the county. all these poor bastards lining up for a smile, and here you are—legs open for me.”
you gasp and whimper and dig your nails into his shoulders. he presses his hips harder, grinds right against where you need him most. your head drops back, your moan echoes. “you love this,” he says, panting now. “bein’ up here where anyone could walk in. where anyone could see you gettin’ ruined by me.” you don’t answer, you can’t. “what happened to that bratty mouth, huh?” he growls, dragging his teeth along your jaw. “where’s all that sass now?”
“shut up,” you breathe. “just—please.”
“beggin’ again?” he taunts. “thought you didn’t do that.”
“i’m making an exception.”
he laughs, dark and hot, and grabs your hips tighter, pulling you to the edge of the table. “you should see yourself right now,” he mutters, undoing his belt with one hand. “look so fuckin’ pretty like this. so desperate.”
“you’re the one that came after me.”
“yeah,” he admits, lining himself up, voice breaking a little, “because i’m a goddamn fool for you.”
and then he pulls back. his hand wraps around your jaw, gentle but firm, tilting your face up to look at him. he’s flushed and panting. pupils blown wide. and his voice, when he speaks, is low and dangerous and thick with control he’s barely holding. “get on your knees.”
your heart stops and your grin widens. “you asking or telling me, cowboy?”
he presses his thumb into your cheek, leans down, kisses the corner of your mouth like he’s being nice before doing something awful. “i’m tellin’ you,” he mutters, “be a good girl and make me feel good.”
you blink slow, mouth open, pretending to think about it. “what’s in it for me?”
his hand slips down, fingers wrapping around your throat just enough to make you feel it—not choking, just owning. “my cock in your mouth,” he growls. “and maybe if you do it right, i’ll let you come later.”
your knees buckle, but your pride doesn’t. you hum, all fake sweetness. “guess i could use something to suck on.” you drop to the floor, knees hitting the sticky saloon wood like you belong there. he watches you, chest heaving and jaw tight. trying not to come just from the sight of you looking so cute on your knees for him. you look up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. “you nervous?” you tease.
he barks a laugh. “just waitin’ to see if the mouth that talks so much can finally do something useful.”
you pout. then reach for his belt, slow and dramatic, undoing it like it’s the last gift under a christmas tree. and when his cock springs free, hard, flushed, huge, your mouth waters. you glance up again. “you been thinkin’ about this, haven’t you?”
he hisses as you wrap your hand around him, thumb brushing the tip. “every fuckin’ night,” he admits, voice ragged. “jesus, i’d wake up hard just rememberin’ how you looked struttin’ around in those little shorts behind the bar.”
you stroke him once, twice, slow and sweet. then you lean forward, kiss the tip. just a whisper of a touch. he groans. his hand finds your hair, pulling it already. you drag your tongue along the underside, all the way down, then back up again. he swears, low and filthy. “look at you,” he rasps. “knees on the fuckin’ floor, pretty mouth full of me. you know how many men in this town would give their right hand for this?”
you hum around him. smile with your eyes, because you do know. and you love that it’s you doing this to him. so you take more of him in, then more. until he’s deep in your throat, and he’s gripping the edge of the table so tight you think he might snap it in half. “fuck,” he moans. “that’s it, sweetheart. just like that. takin’ me so fuckin’ good.”
his hips twitch forward. just a little, just enough to make you gag—on purpose, and he loves that. he loves the sound. he loves how messy your mouth is for him. so he starts to move in shallow thrusts. hand in your hair, not rough, but claiming. “you gonna let me come in your mouth, baby?” he groans. “gonna swallow it all, show me how good you are?”
you nod and moan, sucking harder, and that’s it. he gasps, his hips snap forward. his whole body shudders. he comes hard, hot and thick on your tongue, fingers tangled in your hair, voice wrecked. you swallow it all, slowly. wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, like a brat.
you’re still on your knees, lips wet, tongue peeking out in satisfaction like you just finished dessert and might go back for seconds. he looks down at you, utterly wrecked. and then he laughs breathless and disbelieving. “jesus christ,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair like you just short-circuited every last nerve. “you’re gonna kill me.”
you grin, smug as sin. but then he leans down, and his strong arms slide under your shoulders, lifting you like you weigh nothing. you squeal, half-laughing, hands flying to grip his shirt. “hey—!”
“shut up,” he breathes. “my turn.”
he sets you down on the table again, right where you were before. but this time, he doesn’t kiss you yet. doesn’t even touch you. he just steps back, eyes dark and hungry. and says, “spread.”
you blink, chest rising. “what?”
he tilts his head, steps back in, hands firm on your knees. “you heard me, sweetheart. open up. now i’m gonna make you feel good.”
you part your thighs slow, watching his eyes drop, watching his breath hitch. you lean back on your elbows, head tilted, and he glances at the wet mark through your shorts. he drops to his knees, his hands grip your thighs, dragging you to the edge like he’s pulling you into hell with him. he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, slow and reverent, like you’re a prayer and a sin at the same time.
“you wet for me already?” he murmurs, hot breath brushing your core through your shorts.
you nod, breathless. “since you walked in.”
he grins. bites the soft skin just above your knee. “should’ve told me. i’d’ve come sooner.”
he yanks your shorts and panties down fast, like he’s impatient. because he probably is. so then—finally—he licks you. one long, slow stroke that makes your back arch off the table. you gasp. grab the edge and moan his name so soft it sounds like a confession.
and he devours you. not gentle, not slow. just hungry and precise, like he’s got something to prove. his tongue works you open, circles and flicks and drives you fucking wild. he hums when you buck your hips, groans when you moan. his grip on your thighs bruises. his tongue never stops. “so fuckin’ sweet,” he mumbles against you. “no wonder they all wanna taste.”
you whimper. he slides a finger in, then another. crooks them just right. your whole body tightens. your breath catches. “that’s it, baby,” he whispers. “ride my face. let go. give it to me.”
you do. you shatter, legs trembling, back arched, voice gone. you’re gasping his name, tugging his hair, begging him to stop or keep going—you don’t even know. he doesn’t stop. not until your whole body is shaking. not until your thighs twitch and your breathing turns ragged and your hand slaps the table in surrender.
then finally he pulls back with his mouth glistening with you. his smile is wrecked, his eyes wide and wild. he looks up at you like you just handed him the goddamn meaning of life. “holy fuck,” he whispers, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “you came so good for me, angel.”
you try to glare, you really do. but your limbs don’t work. your knees are jelly. your stomach’s still twitching in aftershocks. and then he stands, towering. glowing like he just found religion between your legs. and then he leans down, kisses your jaw, and says—soft and cocky— “think you can take one more?”
your eyes flutter open, you blink at him. “you’re insane.”
he grins and kisses the corner of your mouth. “that ain’t a no.”
you roll your eyes. but you’re already lifting your hips, already turning. and then his hands are on your waist, firm and steady, spinning you around until you’re bent over the table. your cheek presses to the cool wood. your arms stretch forward. “fuck,” you whisper.
he hums behind you, hands sliding up your back, bunching your shirt at your ribs. “look at you,” he mutters. “so goddamn ready. still drippin’ for me.” he leans over you, chest to your back, mouth at your ear. “tell me you want it.”
you inhale shakily. “i want it.”
his hand slides between your thighs. fingers glide through your wetness. “tell me who’s gonna make you come again.”
you gasp. “you are.”
“say my name, sweetheart.”
“you, jakey.”
he groans. lines himself up. and then he pushes in. you gasp, you arch and whimper. his hand presses between your shoulder blades, keeping you down, controlling the pace. his hips move slow and deep, dragging a moan out of you every time he bottoms out. “so tight,” he pants. “like you’re fuckin’ made for me.”
you moan his name again, cheek still to the table, one hand reaching back to grab at his wrist. he laughs low and feral. “no runnin’ now,” he growls. “you said you could take one more.”
his thrusts get faster and harder. the table starts to creak. your moans start to sound like pleas. and he’s loving every second. he leans in, bites your shoulder, mutters against your skin, “gonna fuck you so dumb you forget how to sass.” you gasp and grin. you push back against him just to be a brat. he grabs your hips, pulls you back onto him hard. “jesus,” he hisses. “you like this, don’t you? bein’ used like this.”
“i like you like this,” you pant. “all obsessed.”
he grunts, and slaps your ass with a sting that makes your knees wobble. you yelp. and then he laughs, breathless, wicked. “i’m not lettin’ anyone else touch you again,” he mutters, voice cracked open, raw in your ear. his hand comes down to your hip, gripping. “this?” he growls, grinding into you harder, deeper. “this fuckin’ mouth, these thighs, this perfect little pussy— all mine.”
you moan, loud and shameless. he leans in, mouth hot on your neck, and his hand slips around you, fingers finding your clit like they never forgot it. he rubs in tight, fast circles, exactly how your body begs for. “come for me again, baby,” he pants. “show me how fuckin’ pretty you fall apart.”
and you do. you break, and your cry punches through the empty bar, your walls clenching so tight around him it nearly knocks the air from his lungs. your hands scrabble for the edge of the table, your face buried, your voice gone, just moans, sobs, his name like a prayer you can’t stop saying. and then—still shaking, still high on it— you whisper, broken and filthy: “inside. jake. please—come inside.”
he fucking loses it. his hips stutter, his breath catches, his hand grabs your ass roughly. “fuck, baby—” his head drops to your back. his rhythm falters, he’s right there. “you want me to fill you up?” he growls, desperate. “want me leavin’ you dripping with me?”
you nod, frantic. “yes—yes, please—i want it, i want all of it—”
he groans, loud. his thrusts go messy. erratic. wild. “goddamn, you’re gonna ruin me,” he gasps. and then he comes, deep and hard. body shuddering as he spills inside you, hips pressed tight, your name falling from his lips like a sin he’s finally ready to be forgiven for.
his hand stays in your hips. his forehead pressed to your back. both of you panting. shaking. wrecked. and you smile, eyes closed, face against the table, voice barely above a whisper:
“told you you were obsessed.”
he laughs—hoarse, drunk on you—and kisses your spine. “shut up,” he murmurs. “you fuckin’ love it.”
after, at your place, after he wrecked you in every possible way, you watch him fall asleep beside you, arm slung across your waits like he is still trying to stake a claim. cowboy hat on the floor. love bite on his throat. your lipstick on his chest.
you smile to yourself. “i like my men playing hard to get,” you whisper.
lucky for you, he never stood a chance.
author’s note: soooo i saw this edit of jake in full cowboy mode and lost every functioning brain cell i had left. then i watched manchild by sabrina carpenter and went wait what if… so this fic accidentally became the most porn-with-plot thing i’ve ever written. but i regret nothing. cowboy jake has a chokehold on me and the saloon girl in my brain wouldn’t shut up until he was wrecked and begging. anyway, yee-fucking-haw 🤠
The good looking neighbors never know when to shut up so instead they shut you up
pairing— boxer!jay x fem!reader x boxer!jake
genre: smut minors do not interact, boxer/boys next door au, p without plot
wc: 11.2k
warnings: profanity, kissing, sweat, mention of injuries, mention and scene of violence/fighting(boxing)
smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex, p in v, threesome, dom!jay, soft dom!jake, dirty talk, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral (f+m rec.), deep throating, praising, slight degradation, cum eating, usage of nicknames (babe, sweetheart, nasty girl, sweet girl)
Groggily opening your eyes, the sleep that once engulfed you now faded away to the muffle loud ruckus. Your eyebrows knitted roughly before taking a look at the time before a deep sigh let your mouth.
Realizing and knowing your neighbors are not going to finish until the crack of dawn—like always. Your chair screeched as you roughly stepped out of your apartment, walking over to apartment 512.
Rubbing your sore neck from the sleeping position you were awakened from,“Do they ever know when to be quiet?” You mumbled, your hands dragging down your face as you tried to ignore the evident loud grunts and sound of rubber colliding drawing closer with each step
At first, you thought having two good looking neighbors would’ve been the best thing to ever happen in your life. Always trying to catch
a glimpse of them in the beginning until the loud ruckus began not even an hour after they moved in.
Trying to give them the benefit of the doubt that it’d just be every now and then while they get accustomed into the new apartment, but when it kept happening every single waking hour possible in the day, you began to grow agitated.
You don’t know how many times you’ve complained to them about the noise or how many times they promised to keep the noise down to a minimum as you promised to not file a noise complaint but they never filled their end of the bargain and you’re tired of it.
Banging roughly on their door, hoping they could hear it past the already loud noise in there and just to your luck, a few seconds later, there was no response.
As you continued to bang at the door, determined to not leave until they opened up, the door opened in a haste but it was too late for you to stop your hand. Suddenly mimicking the knocking motion on a hard chest, you yanked your hand away.
The male in front of you smirked, looking down at the pec you knocked on, “Don’t think this one is going to answer, why don’t you try the other one?” He rested his head against his leaning arm, the sweat trickling down his forehead down to his jaw, tracing it down during its way
Your eyebrows furrowed seeing the new face. This was not either of your neighbors.
“Who’s at the door, Hoon?” You heard a breathless accented voice from inside the apartment and able to immediately recognize it from the sheer amount of times you heard it
“Promise to keep quiet” and “Didn’t mean to be so loud babe”
All empty lies from him—Jake.
“Don’t know but she’s cute” The said Hoon chuckled as he stared at you, his eyes traveling up and down your figure drinking in your appearance
The small compliment managed to tickle your brain as you tried to stop the heating from fully reaching your cheeks. “What’s your name?” The male leaned his head to level with yours but before you could comprehend a plausible answer, he was pulled away and there you saw the familiar face
Sharp jawline, piercing eyes, ruffled hair with a freshly new undercut drenched in sweat. The bulging biceps from the clinging tank top where you could outline every dip and crevice on his sculpture body.
“Jay” You squeaked out causing a light smirk to form on his face as he ushered his friend Hoon away from the door but not before he shot a wink towards your way waving out his thumb and pinky close to his ear, mouthing the words call me
“Sorry about… Just ignore him” Jay panted out, using the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat hanging from his chin
You gulped trying to keep your eyes leveled with his and to not look at the clear muscle definition sticking out with his every movement.
“He’s the least of my concern right now” You mumbled, which in fact was true, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt before clearing your throat, “How many times do I have to tell you guys to keep it down?”
“Sorry about that sweetheart-”
“I’ve told you and Jake to stop calling me those names” You huffed out causing Jay to chuckle using his fingers to brush away the hair sticking to his skin showcasing his sweat filled face
Your eyes looked over and saw a scratch on his forehead that was covered before. “It was a rough match” Jay spoke noticing your interest on the cut, “But don't worry, I won” He pumped his pride filled chest out, a side smile appearing on his face
“I-I didn’t- I don’t care” You looked away to anywhere that wasn’t him already feeling the heat spreading throughout your body, “Just stop or keep it down tonight, please”
“Oh?” Jay raised an eyebrow, never hearing you beg before but quickly loving how you sound, “You really want us to shut up, don’t you?”
“So damn badly” You softly let out making Jay raise his hands up in defense as his wordless apology
“We’ll try but no promises” He smiled hoping it’d satisfy you a little but only received an annoyed eye roll as you walked back to your place
Jay’s hand gripped the door frame, his body leaning forward to watch your hips swaying as you walked away, “Bye” He called out earning a warning glare as you opened the door and slammed it
He smirked to himself, closing his own door. “You guys must be annoying to live next to” Hoon commented as he rested up a chair waiting for Jay to return
“Shut up Sunghoon” Jay sneered earning a howl from his friend hearing the harsher tone used towards him unlike the softer voice used with you
“Just stating the facts” Sunghoon raised his hands up in surrender, “But what’s her name?”
“She’s so my type”
“Fuck off Hoon” Jake striked a direct hit towards the punching bag, the rubber sound echoing out before sending another strike as he spoke, ”She wouldn’t want you”
“Oh I’m sorry, did she tell you that?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows towards Jake, “Why won’t she be into me? Because I’m not some fucking boxer like you two?”
Jay walked over to his discarded wraps of a glove, wrapping the white fabric around his hand and knuckles with precision making sure not a single piece of skin showing, “Exactly” Jay threw the boxing curved towards Sunghoon who grunted when he revived them on his stomach
“Now get up, I need to practice”
✮⋆˙
Coming back from a tiring day, you were ready to fall asleep the moment you met your bed. You let out a heavy sigh of relief seeing your front door in view. Just as you took a step forward, the door next to yours opened wide.
“Hurry up Jay” Jake yelled holding the door opened but it whacked behind him once he caught sight of you
He hissed at the collision and rubbed the back of his head, you sucked your teeth into a hiss but being the boxer he is, he must be used to it.
“It doesn’t kill you to hold open the door” You heard Jay’s voice once the door opened again, “Fucking move-” Jay shoved the frozen Jake out of the way and there he saw you looking at them standing not far away from them
You looked between the two males, now noticing the different duffle bags they each held. Jake having a lighter washed out green with his name largely written in the front and Jay having a blacked out one with different designs all around, “We have a match today” You looked back up to Jake who’s hand that now hovered over his head noticing your lingering eyes
Your lack of response made them shift to stand side by side with each other, reminding you of the times, very few times why you were happy—almost glad that they were your neighbors in the first place.
Not only one but two good looking boys next door who just so happen to be boxers, with raging muscles that called for you to claw at was the wildest and grandest fantasy you could ever have which became your reality when your two lovely neighbors showed up at your doorstep introducing themselves.
Opting to stay quiet, you slowly nodded your head and took a step in the opposite direction of them but stopped when you heard one of them speak up, “Wanna wish us good luck babe?”
“This match…” Jake looked off to the side catching Jay’s glance towards him, “It might be the biggest one of our career” Jake said turning his gaze back onto you and you furrowed your eyebrows noticing a glint of sparkle in his eyes
Why want you to wish them luck? You had no grand power towards them. “Uh good luck?” Your supposed support ended in hesitance rather than a welcoming gesture
“Who do you think will win? Me or Jake?” Jay suddenly chipped in, wrapping his arm around his friend where it allowed you to focus on the bicep growing in size
Taking a discreet gulp, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, who’s the better boxer?” Your question meaning to be harmless but noticing the sudden shift in them made you unconsciously straighten your posture
Not entirely sure why you’re deciding to entertain them but it’s definitely more fun than collapsing onto your bed.
“Why don’t you find out sweetheart?” Jay’s voice suddenly dropped into a slurred tone making your insides twist as you crossed your legs trying to hide how easy it was to leave you flustered
You hated the nicknames they used to address you but it sure did leave a squish in between your legs.
Jay’s smirk grew in size once he saw your reaction, Jake on the other hand, grew in dissatisfaction to the lack of attention towards him. He pushed Jay’s arm off his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “No need to worry or stress about it too much, I’ll win since you know” Jake shrugged his shoulder while consciously flexing his arms his shirt lifting in the process showing the bottom outline of his toned stomach in a teasing manner “I’m the better boxer”
“I’ll even dedicate my win to you-”
“You sure sound confident you’ll win” You sucked in your teeth cutting him off, tilting your head to the side, “Isn’t it bad to be cocky?” Jay turned his head to the side to stifle his laugh as Jake’s shoulder dropped along with his face
“No- Not cocky, what- There’s nothing wrong with being confident of yourself ” Jake defended himself making sure to put the emphasis on confident in his sentence causing you and Jay to burst out in an unexpected coordinated laugh
“Alright, if you’re so confident. Then win it” Jay stopped his laughter instantly with a dropped jaw while Jake held back a prideful smile at the faith you have in him
“And what’s in it for us?” Jay grabbed Jake’s shoulder to pull his friend back enough for him to step up
Jake shot Jay a look—a warning one that screamed for him to shut up.
You jerked your head back, thinking it was a terrible joke but seeing the seriousness in his face made you stop from laughing, “You want something for me?”
“I thought pride and dignity would be enough knowing that you won”
Jay shook his head and Jake pulled at his friend’s shoulder muttering something incoherent to you but noticing the snapped look Jay gave Jake who glared at him made you raise an eyebrow.
Jay sighed before shaking his head, “Yeah whatever, pride and dignity stuff is what matters” He waved off, hiking up the duffle bag from his slipping hand
“I-I mean we could play genie…” You cringed at the choice of words but tried to look past it as a terrible humor attempt, “Winner gets one wish but you each grant me one wish in return no matter who wins”
The sudden vocal admit of being able to receive something from you—of their choice triggered something into their mind, already motioning the gears sooner than when they were originally supposed to move.
“Wha-Why do we both have to grant you one wish? Seems unfair to me” Jay narrowed his eyes to hide the excitement building up in him
“You owe me that much at least” You snapped back, “Do you know how much I put up with you two? I think it’s fair game”
“Well in boxing-” Jay started but Jake quickly covered his mouth and pulled him back showing a gleeful smile
“Don’t listen to him, you got yourself a deal” Jake extended his freehand out for you grasp while handling the frantic Jay in his arm wanting to push him away
Feeling the twist of your stomach warning of the lack of care in your words or the situation in general but a wave of excitement took over in a matter of seconds as you focused on greater matters.
What you need to buy for the upcoming birthday this week and the bulging muscles peeping out from underneath their shirts.
Grasping Jake’s soft yet harsh hand, you both shook on it. A way too wide smile on his face and a strained one on yours. Regrets, you’ve had them, you just wish this wouldn’t be one of them.
✮⋆˙
“Remember our deal Jay” Jake reminded his friend and roommate with a smirk as his red mouthpiece showed the hidden excitement slipping out
Jay waved him off, tapping the side of his blue headgear to get in the zone. Both were aware of what could be theirs due to the grand opportunity presented to them by your terms so losing wasn’t really up their alley.
“Hey” Jay turned around hearing the call with furrowed eyebrows
Jake smirked before clicking the strap off, allowing his headgear to slip off his shoulder and down to the ground. Jay’s eyes never left Jake’s once, his stoic face soon grew a smile noticing the insinuation, “No gear, just gloves and mouthpiece”
He didn’t respond to Jake’s words, only following in suit during the silence. He clicked off his headgear to land in his arm and threw it off to the side with a loud clunk as it rolled off. Jake’s smile grew wider before kicking his own piece out to follow Jay’s.
“May the best man win” Jay murmured as he walked over, pushing out his glove covered hands for Jake to clink
Once the tip of their gloves touched, they both went to their respective corners in the confided boxing arena with worn out ropes outlining it that’s long overdue for its replacement.
Jake tapped his bare stomach feeling the crevice even through his glove as he shook out his limbs to get rid of any tension that could alter his performance.
Jay twisted his neck side of side, stretching his upper body backwards enjoying the cracks of the built up pressure releasing. He let out a satisfied groan.
At the sound of the whistle, they marched over to the middle, face to face, a stern determined look that screamed louder than anything they could express through words.
At the weak ding 5 seconds later, Jake striked the first punch causing Jay to step back in haste to avoid it. ”Wasting no time” He muttered under his breath before jumping on his toes
His arms leveled with his head protecting it with the lack of extra protection from the discarded headgear. Jake was still smiling through the whole thing as he twisted his body to the side.
He trains with Jay day in and day out that they are practically one, he knows how his roommate attacks.
Jay took his infamous step forward, his arm coming from below but Jake’s eyes caught it before it could fully land. He blocked the attack with his arm, deflecting it away.
“C’mon Jongseong, you’ll have to be better than that” Jake spat through his mouthpiece and Jay rolled his eyes at the muffled comment
While Jake was silently laughing at his comment like it was hilarious, Jay took the opportunity to swing straight to Jake’s side making him wince upon impact. “Shit” He grunted under his breath from the unexpected attack having Jay chuckle showing a covered teeth smile
You’re the one that’ll have to be better than that was Jay’s famous internal monologue before tumbling back from the strike straight to his stomach knocking him off his feet landing Jake the lead up by 1 point.
The match now tied continued far longer than they wanted but it was to be expected. Grander schemes were at play and in their minds, both of them needed to win this match, the two s’ in their lives depended on this.
Social and the other s that they’ve been denying far too long forcing it to bubble all thoughts in their minds whenever you’re around.
Jay could feel the exhaustion catching up to his body, the faint metallic taste on his tongue when he licked his lips. Jake, having his sweat mixed with whatever else was spilling out of him dragged down his neck, a wild smirk on his face mimicking his crazed gaze.
Having the more stamina out of the two, he barely had a dent in his energy levels unlike his roommate. Jake sucked his bottom lip, victory never tasted so good before.
Right when Jake was going to swing his final punch to end the match and earn the last point needed for his sweet sweet win, he felt the harsh pressure straight to his head knocking him down to the ground without much thought.
His head was pounding against his skull as he landed on his knees and elbows, trying to push his body back up to continue to the match, barely able to hear the faint countdown through his ringing ear.
Jay tapped the floor repeatedly in pure excitement once time was called. He walked around the secluded arena hyping himself up from the great play.
Jake crumbled and turned his body around to face the poorly lit ceiling, “I win” Jay’s bruised face came into view, panting heavily as he extended an arm to help the sprawled Jake up who glared up at him, shoving the helping arm away in a grunt
“Fucking cheater” Jake grumbled, “You swung a foul hook”
“We never said anything about following match rules” Jay twisted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders like he did no wrong—well technically he didn’t. “I just interpreted it as a free fall” Jake’s face contorted in dissatisfaction at his friend’s words
Jake continued to stare up at Jay, the dim lighting behind blinded him in the process. The cocky demeanor that Jay tried to push down now slipping through that Jake could feel it in himself and he lost.
Rolling his eyes, he sat up his sore body from the hard mattress, the side of his jaw and head tingling with a sensation he tried to ignore from the reality of his loss. “C’mon Jake no hard feelings right?”
“You remember our deal” Being reminded while he finally stood up, Jake tapped Jay’s chest before grabbing his neck to crash and rest their sweaty foreheads together in hopes of the simple gesture being the wordless reminder of the full length of their deal
“Don’t fucking ruin her before me” Jake sneered causing Jay to smile widely as he dragged out the mouthguard, moving his mouth around to the freedom letting out a dark laugh as he stared right back into Jake’s eyes
“Where’s the fun in that?”
✮⋆˙
Your mouth fell slack as Jay stood at your door all bruised up as he dropped the filled duffle bag to the ground with a loud thump, “I won” He breathlessly muttered but his tone secure and firm
“Did you really?” You quietly commented seeing the dried up scratches and faint bruises forming on his sculptured face with his frizzy drenched hair
Something sickening twisted inside of you as you stare not able to peel your eyes away from him. Your legs stuck tighter together, it must be a worrying pity that you were feeling but the excitement that began to rise when you opened the door to see him was undeniable.
Jay huffed snapping you out of it, “I want my wish”
Perplexed, you blinked your eyes harshly, “What?” You asked wanting to make sure you heard him right through the muffling of your ears growing by the second he’s in your presence like this
“You said let’s play genie. So let’s play genie”
Trying to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor now realizing how your words did in fact come to bite you. Your eyes traveled around his face looking past the injuries to see pure determination. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
Nerves began seeping into your brain as you tried to make sense of his blazing determination, “I-I wait- Wha-What?” You stuttered out when Jay’s head suddenly leveled with yours as he drew closer
His faint breath fanning over yours, tilting his head to the side staring off to the distance, sucking his teeth in the process, “For my wish…” Jay turned his gaze back to you, nose bumping into each in the process from the closeness, “Take care of me”
You gulped harshly at his conceding words. There felt to be an underlying sense from just what was being said. As you stared at his deep eyes, it was like he read every thought that was crossing your mind—searching for the one that yelled for him.
“I-I don’t have anything to treat you” You softly mumbled but your eyes never looked away making him let out a low chuckle while his unnoticed hovering hand landed on your lower back to squish the distance in between to nothing
“What type of genie are you?” Jay jokingly tooted his lips softly shaking his head, “That’s okay sweetheart, good thing for you I have everything you need”
And a few moments later, you found yourself sitting on Jay’s bed, in his room that is exactly what you imagined it to be. A waif of musky cologne, a bunch of weights scattered around, an inflatable punching bag and to your surprise two guitars—one electric disconnected from the amplifier and an acoustic in the corner.
You dropped your head into your hands from the blur of you stepping out of your place and following Jay back to his only to find yourself in his room, on the edge of his bed and the prominent flutter in your chest growing in anticipation.
You should’ve been more careful with your words.
“What are you doing here?” You remained quiet holding your head in your hand, trying to ignore the question from Jake who you quickly recognized by the accent slipping through, “Babe?”
“I told you not call me any na-” You started hearing his voice drawing in as you lifted your head up only then realizing just how close Jake was to you all of sudden
Jumping from the unexpected closeness, Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you to prevent you from toppling over to the floor. “You should be more careful. Can’t have all three of us hurt” He lightly chuckled
Taking into account his words, you stared at him wide eyed soaking in the bruised lip, a cut on his cheek with a growing redding and a cut that peeked from under the messy fluffy hair faintly covering his eyes that you itched to sweep away.
In a moment of silence, Jake's eyes poured deep into yours—not in search of anything just merely looking, he let out a low sigh, “Don’t think I ever told you how pretty you are” He hummed while his eyes zeroed on your lips for a second longer, making sure you noticed “You’re so pretty” His eyes looked up to catch yours staring right at him, never looking away
Your mouth slightly fell open to respond but instead a strained noise came out of your mouth, “I have a small wish” Jake murmured in a soft hallucinated tone, his lips so close to yours, “Will you give it to me?”
“Jake” You breathlessly let out and Jake crashed his hovering lips onto yours and almost instantaneously, you closed your eyes shut and fell into his plump lips smiling against yours
The puttering of your heart was so loud, you're worried Jake might’ve been able to hear it from how close he was. The pad of his thumb rubbed softly at your back while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss as much as he could.
His freehand rose and cupped at your jaw to stabilize himself, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, silently pleading for your permission. You cracked open your mouth as he entered like he’s been waiting for so long.
Your hands grabbed the thin fabric you would barely call a t-shirt clinging to his body for support. Pulling at your lip, you slightly jolt making him smile harder in the kiss. His hand traveled from your jaw to the side of your neck as he pulled away from the kiss.
You chased after his lips with closed eyes not wanting to feel the warmth disappear but your eyes shot wide open when you felt wet splotches placed at the side of your neck.
Jake messily planted feathering kisses all around your neck. Your hands gripped his hair, erupting groans from him as you pulled when he nibbled at your skin.
Your neck fell pliant in his hand, providing all access to him. Jake roughly stuck his body to yours, curving your body with his. “Jake” You breathlessly pant, your eyes fluttering shut
“That’s right, say my name” He grumbled against your skin while his fingers dug into your sides not wanting to let you go even for a second
“You fucking sleeze” You jumped at the sudden voice not far from you or Jake
Jay stood at his door, an amused smirk resting on his face. He pushed back his hair from his forehead with a dark chuckle causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies.
Jake let out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down but his hands never letting go. He craned his neck back to see his roommate staring right at you, ignoring his presence as a whole.
Jake shrugged his shoulders as Jay threw the first-aid kit on his neat desk scattering the stuff around in the process, “You wasted your time”
The door behind him closed with a click following after and you watched, realizing you were locked with the boys next door. “No you’re just impatient and couldn’t wait your turn” Jay sneered as he strutted towards you and Jake, the bubbling anger in him filled the room
You looked between the two and Jay took notice of your wavering eyes between them, his eyes trailed down and saw when you squished your legs tightly together under his gaze.
The feel of anger melted away as he stepped closer, placing his hands on his knees as he leveled at your head. He chuckled while his thumb reached out and softly stroked your cheek. “Or maybe you’re the impatient one” He grinned and you looked at him like an animal caught in headlights
His eyes bore into you, his side smirk only grew wider when you looked away from him. That was the answer he needed. He patted his roommate’s shoulder until he looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
Jay tilted his head, pointing towards the lonely chair in his room far from the bed. Jake aggressively shook his head, not wanting to give up what he already started but Jay gripped his shoulder tighter and repeated the motion. “Move. A deal is a deal”
The reminder trickled the built-up sweat down the back of your neck. A moment of silence for the lost session before Jake grumbled under his breath, his hands loosening on your waist before pushing Jay’s hand off with an annoyed huff.
You watched Jake hunched over to the chair, kicking the chair in the process before sitting down with a loud deep sigh, folding his arms—the biceps and triceps peeking from underneath one another as he stared in front of you two.
Jay’s hand cupped your chin and pulled your head away from Jake’s direction onto him. “Let him wallow in his self pity for now. Right now, let’s focus on us genie” The name shouldn’t have let you hot and bothered the way it did but when Jay’s calloused hands cupped your face lifting it high up for him, all thoughts went out the window
Your eyes stared up at him and Jay felt a familiar carnal bloom inside of him. The crease at your cheek reappeared as he toppled his head down to capture your lips with his.
The initial shock melted away as your eyes fluttered closed again and you were enclasped in the moment with Jay. His hand held your jaw delicately, different from how you originally anticipated.
His lips moved with yours and you felt everything around you turn into nothing, even the other male sitting eyes burning into your existence.
Jay’s hand traced down to your neck, holding it firmly in his hold. Your hands gripped at his nape, your fingers tugging at the bottom hairs making him groan as he softly pushed you on his bed.
Your mind was dizzy, you could feel the twitch of his mouth, your lips would graze his damaged one. “Sorry” You managed to say through the kiss but Jay only smiled as he pressed his lips harder against yours hoping that it’d mold together as one
Letting out a squeak from your throat, you felt Jay’s hand drag up your side. The roughness contrasted Jake’s eagerness, whose leg bounced up and down as he watched the scene before him.
Jay’s lip melted with yourself that you could nearly taste the metallic taste on your taste bud when his tongue slipped past.
Your hand tangled with his hair, his hand roughly grabbing at your side as he hovered over your body.
Sinking into his mattress, you melted further into cloud 9. The lack of oxygen started to infiltrate your foggy brain, worsening it by the second, your mind screamed for a second of air while your body interpreted the kiss as your only need of oxygen.
Hearing your heavy shallow breaths Jay pulled away from the kiss and with hooded eyes, he took a glimpse towards you which stunned him. Your swollen lips begging for more, your closed eyes and hanging open mouth as you finally took in deep breaths to make up for the lack of it.
Before him was a scene he wanted to burn in his mind forever.
Feeling Jay pull away from you, you lazily opened your eyes to see him looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes making your insides churn.
Jay dipped his head down to the crevice of your neck and began planting soft kisses just like how Jake had done. You lifted your body off the bedding feeling his mouth messily leaving wet splotches on your neck. Your chest rumbled out with a satisfied held back moan.
“Let me- No Let Jakey over there hear how good I’m making you feel” The mention of the male made you turn to the side to see Jake with folded arms glaring at the two of you
You made eye contact with his strong one’s and saw the faintest smirk ghost his face as he slightly jerked his lips forward pointing to where you lay sprawled with Jay hovering over you—ushering you to pay attention to what’s in front of you.
“You’re shivering sweetheart” Jay pointed out feeling the goosebumps forming on your skin, he smirked before taking a nip at your neck causing your attention to come back to him
Jay’s kisses furthered down your neck until he reached the starting point of your shirt’s neckline. His eyes looked to yours, silenting asking for permission—waiting for the sign. You stared right at him as you softly nodded your head.
The smile he gave was different from the other’s he has given you, this being more genuine and softening. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, feeling the material against his touch before carefully hiking it up exposing your skin.
It felt like it was in slow motion. Jay’s eyes never trained off of yours, as you shivered once the cold air hit your skin and you could feel the warmth radiating off his hands grazing your skin. “I got you” He softly whispered just enough for you to hear noticing your shuddered
Your arms lifted up as Jay peeled the fabric off before throwing it behind him to be discarded.
Jake watched the shirt thrown his way and the sneak of a glance Jay took towards him, a prideful expression—gesture. His jaw clenched as he quickly unfolded his arms and the chair he was sitting in screeched from under him.
“Uh oh I think someone is growing impatient” Jay voice filled with a teasing tone as he saw how Jake walked over in strides
You lifted your head to see Jake standing next to the bed, “Can I help you?” Jay raised an eyebrow causing Jake to scowl before it instantly melting when he looked at you
He cleared his throat before tapping at Jay’s shoulder, “Time’s up” He told trying to make his tone firmer than usually which was followed by a stifled laugh from Jay who dropped his head for a moment at his roommates sternness
“Let’s see…” Jay caught your flickering eyes with a smile tilting his head just a little, “What do you think? Should we let him join us?”
You gulped down the lump in your throat. Through the fog of your mind, you registered your two good looking neighbors, the beat up boxer’s before you—both looking at you with a look that you couldn’t decipher but could feel in your bones.
You opened your mouth only to close it not trusting yourself to speak coherent sentences that wouldn’t end up with you tangled in the bed with the two of them but deep down it was what you wanted.
Only able to let out out a breathlessly tone as you roughly nodded your head , “Yes please”
Jake’s smile grew wildly as he hastily removed his shirt in one swift motion. Jay rolled his eyes at his friend before being shoved to the side by Jake who replaced his position. “What the-” You heard Jay off to the side but couldn’t focus on what else he said as your focus fell back onto Jake
You shifted in your spot at the sudden switch but Jake’s comforting smile eased your nerves. Hovering above you, his arm with his bulging bicep supporting him while his other hand stroked against your cheek.
Your eyes took in his face before trailing down body. The biceps are prominent with no distraction covering it, the cut of his triceps trailing down, his collar bone sticking out that your hand itches to grab at—more preferably gnaw at to keep you quiet and the outlining of his toned stomach that you’ve only seen through teasing manners in all its glory.
As you trailed further down, you see the raging bulge being restrained in his sweats. Your jaw nearly dropped seeing the print against the material but forcibly keeping your mouth closed was easier said than done.
Your eyes looking back up to see Jake’s hungry filled ones, a smile that melted your heart almost instantaneously. “You’re the prettiest girl ever” He softly murmured before going to capture your lips in a chaste kiss
Receiving it just as easily as it was given to you, your hands tangled into his fluffy hair that you’ve waited so long to rake through. Yet, through the muffle of your ears, you were able to pick up off the shuffling beside you.
Jake sucked at your bottom lip, tugging at the flesh with a grin before pulling away with a heavy breath. He rested his forehead against yours before making his way down your cheek then to your jaw, “Picking up where I left off” He blabbed against your neck as he softly sucked on the skin
His hand softly pushed your head to the side as his mouth traveled all over your neck. Having your neck craned, you’re faced with Jay smirking as he watches you and Jake.
His shirt and sweats were long discarded somewhere as he adjusted himself on the bed in a sitting position, his arm extending from behind to hold himself up. He turned his head to the side in a tilt, a smirk never leaving his face.
Your mouth opened, ripping out a soft moan when you felt the cold air hit your now bare chest which was then warmed by a wet sensation wrapping around the hardening bud.
You gasped loudly as your hands immediately grasped Jake’s hair, throwing your head back further into the sheets.
A sound fell from Jake the moment he came into contact with your breast, his tongue gliding over the hardening bud as his other hand fondled with the other.
Your mind became filled with his touch and mouth on you, your back arched as you squealed when he tugged at it between his teeth.
He smirked when he heard you, “J-Jake” You softly moaned, tugging at his hair harder earning a faint strained noise to rupture out of him, your heart hammered against your chest that you were sure he could hear and feel it
“Keep saying my name out of that pretty mouth of yours” Jake hummed as he never once let the slightest attention slip through his finger. He pulled at your hardened nipple in a teasing manner, one harsher than the last before running his tongue over the burning sensation
You melted further into the mattress as everything around you disappeared as you felt like you were lifted into a cloud. “Jakey”You called out the nickname you heard Jay call him and he harshly tugged at your nipple making your squeal
He usually brushed off the nickname as nothing hearing it from others yet, hearing it from you only fueled his farther down a rabbit hole he could never escape from—which he would never want in the first place.
His mouth popped your saliva covered bud out of his mouth only to move down the middle in between the crevice before sinking further down.
Your pants were heavy as he inches closer to the growing wetness in between your legs. Unconsciously squishing your legs together before he could reach in between, his eyes flickered up pleading for permission while his fingers stopped toying with your waistband. “Getting shy on me now?” His tone dipped deeper into a hum making your body shiver
With the lack of response, his mouth tugged to the side and peeled his hands away as he began pulling away. The warmth that hovered over your bottom half was disappearing only to feel the burn inside of you that you quickly wrapped your legs around his shoulder causing a yelp to fall as you stopped him, roughly shaking your head.
His hands gripped at your hips to stabilize himself as your legs hooked around him. The giggle he let out surrounded the room and your ears as you felt his head level with your leaking entrance with a nod.
His fingers glided up the side of your leg, able to feel the warmth of his hand through your pants before he tugged at the waistband again, “Going to have to let me go for a second babe” He teased running his hand up and down your legs causing warmth to rise to your cheeks
“Sorry” You murmured, loosening your legs around him to feel the tips of his finger tug at your pants before slowly pulling them down
Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, the tenderness and precision he had for simply peering the clothing off of you was warming.
Once it passed your ankles, Jake threw it off and immediately returned to his place right in between your thighs. Adjusting your legs over his shoulder easily exposing the damp undergarment sticking to your entrance. “So pretty” He blabbed, “Wet already”
Jake hummed as his eyes scanned over the wet patch on your panties, “Is this because of me?” He tilted his head to the side, having his shaky hand moved from your hips to swipe across the damp fabric making you squeal at the contact
Your head felt dizzy while your lower body moved with his finger, soaking in the feel, “Well?” He ripped his finger away once you weren’t responding
“Y-yes” You let out a broken cry, “It’s because of you”
Jake smirked to himself in pride, taking an obvious glance towards Jay who only let out a silent scoff at the ego growing in Jake. “Good” He hummed
He stuck out his tongue and took a long stride against your covered core, mixing his saliva with your soaked panties as his fingers teasing your folds just over the material. You jumped from the sudden touches as your hand flung to his hair, biting your lips as you held back the noise daring to fall
While being ignored long enough after being such a good friend, roommate and neighbor, Jay can no longer deny his own problem growing in size hearing your beautiful sounds.
Your eyes screwed shut, whines falling out as you let yourself feel Jake’s tongue protrude into your covered hole in a teasing manner to him sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves when his finger was at the brink of your entrance ready to slip in.
But, at the sudden lifting of your head, your eyes shot wide open to Jay placing your upper body to rest up against his while his arms came up from behind straddling over your bare skin.
The contact of flesh pressed up against your back with the sensation of Jake’s finger tugging your panties to the side to finally see your smeared covered pussy was consuming you whole.
Jay’s hand reached higher until finally landing on your chest, feeling it with his own hand after having to watch Jake do it first. Your body arched off his but he quickly dragged you back with a harsh pull. “Stay with me” He whispered into your ear leaving a shiver to run up your spine
One hand remained fondling with your breast fondling while the other traced up your neck, lifting your fallen head up, craning it to allow him to place his mouth messily on top of yours.
You hummed in satisfaction feeling how he kissed you, his hand holding the juncture between your neck and jaw firmly as he sucked on your bottom lip, the familiar taste of metallic hitting your tongue.
Yet, your mouth dropped in the kiss letting out a quiet gasp as you felt the intrusion of two fingers entering your hole. “Shit” Jake breathlessly pants watching how his two fingers disappeared inside of you
You whipped your head towards the male as he began pumping his fingers in a shallow thrust. Your hand landed to the side, gripping the sheets into a fist only for it to be replaced by Jay intertwining your hands.
With an agape mouth, the moans you’ve been trying to hold back slowly began to spill, feeling how Jake’s finger pushed deeper inside—curling up to feel your gummy walls surrounding him.
“He makes you feel good?” Jay lulled in your ear which you weakly nodded your head at, “Tell him how good he’s making you feel”
Your bottom lip shivered, “S-So good” You managed to get out feeling how he slipped until he was knuckles deep inside of you, “Jake” You called out his name as you threw your head back onto Jay’s shoulder
“So good Jake- Please”
Jake was too fascinated watching his fingers disappear that his name fell deaf on his ears. He watched how his dry fingers were now drenched in your arousal and he couldn’t miss out on anymore. He dipped his head close as he placed the first kiss against your entrance—elighting a soft moan from you.
Jake groaned the moment he tasted you on his taste buds. He pressed his face closer to you, his tongue gliding in between your folds “The absolute sweetest” He mumbled pulling at the bundle of nerves screaming for attention, his finger never faltering in pace
He sucked any essence that was slipping through his fingers, his tongue lathering itself all over you. His body felt so heavy and his mind too light, he lost himself.
Jay smirked, feeling you squirm against his chest, holding his hand tightly with the feel of his hands running over your breasts, softly playing with them as he ever so often twists your nipple, timing it when Jake tugs at your clit, to earn a louder squeak from you.
Your senses were heightened as they focused on their respective actions—perfectly in sync and coordinated with each other without having uttered a single word.
Jay gripped on your mound as he sloppily left kisses at the side of your face whilst Jake could feel you clenching around his finger when he intentionally shoved deeper.
The hot build up in your stomach was daring to snap, the rubbing mouth and hands on your body left your mind reeling.
“Look at what you’re doing to Jake” The mention of the man down below, you looked through heavy eyelids to see Jake’s tongue flickering as he matched his pace with his finger but you could see him softly rutting his hips against the mattress
At the sight, you could feel the fluttering shut of your hole around his fingers as the snap in your stomach erupted a loud moan, while your body shook from the ecstasy that washed over you, ”Shit” Jake breathlessly muttered seeing how along with you coming, there was another soaking stream coming out of you
Jake pulled out his finger quickly before rubbing at your folds roughly, wanting to earn more of your release out of you. You gasp at the stimulation as your body arches and slightly trashes but Jay hooked his arms at your waist keeping you in place.
Your pants were strained and heavy, “J-Ja… Please” You cried out until Jake finally pulled his hand away without dipping one finger into your hole
Gasping loudly, soft whimpers falling from your mouth, allowing your body to rest against Jay. “Now that was…” Jay softly said, pulling his arms away from your heaving body
“Fucking hot” Jake finished his sentence as he admired his soaked covered hand
You turned your head away in embarrassment but Jay quickly coddled you, “Hey, hey, don’t” Placing soft kisses against your head, your tensed body soon relaxed melting into the praise, “That was amazing. You did amazing”
You looked over to Jake who looked from his hand over to you. Your glistening eyes, your mouth hanging slightly open with your chest on full display rising with each shallow breath.
He dipped his hand flat onto the mattress, inching his head closer to your to catch your lips in a chaste chase. Cringing at the taste at first and the smearing of your arousal at the lower half of his face landing on yours. He held your chin, sucking at the lower bottom of your lip in need as you could feel Jay’s hand traveling down your body.
Feeling like you were on the fire, your blood ran cold when you felt the soft fingers inching closer until it reached the warming bundle of nerves and slid the tip of a single finger down the center of your drenched hole. You moaned against Jake’s mouth who gleamed hearing your noises reappearing.
Immediately you trashed when you felt Jay’s finger teasing your entrance, “Sensitive?” His seductive tone wished into your ear, infiltrating your mind with ease
A deep hum rumbled out of his chest as he slipped just the tip of his finger back in. You softly bit at Jake’s bottom lip letting a hiss fall from him.
But as Jay’s finger slipped further in, he messily planted kisses at your head and Jake’s mouth moved from your mouth to the side of your jaw down to your.
Jay ripped his hand away and Jake detached his mouth from your skin, a silent coordinated moment, leaving your body all hot and bothered. Your eyes wearily darted between them.
Jake and Jay noticed your confused gaze as they snuck a look to each other—Both seeing the familiar craze that only shows when they’re in the rink appear in each other now. “I still need to be taken care of” Jay’s voice dropped in tone and you churned your head back catching a glimpse of his gaze turning your insides to mush
“Will you take care of me? Sweetheart” His tone slurred soaking into you
You licked your lips before folding them and letting them go in a shaky breath, “Yeah” Your voice barely above a whisper as you softly nodded
“Atta’ girl” Jay chuckled softly tapping at your side
He shifted positions until you were sprawled back on his bed, looking up to the very neighbors you couldn’t stand their inability to stay quiet but at this moment, they didn’t seem that bad—not in the slightest.
Your heartbeat patterned against your chest harshly, anticipation growing by the second when suddenly a hand landed at your side, tapping at it, “Flip over” Jake’s voice rang through the room and not wanting to test either of the patience unable to know if it would be the end just like that
You gulped down the lump before planting your body up on your elbows, turning around but just when you were going to lay your front to the mattress, a hand stopped you, ”On all fours for us” You heard Jay’s voice from behind and a chill ran up your spine from the lack of sight of either of them
An inevitable shudder of your breath left you as you landed on your hands and knees, a burn resting upon your cheeks at the more revealing position.
Your neighbors remained silent, hearing each breath you took alerting them of the nerves growing in you. Taking a look at each other, unspeakable words understood, Jay switched positions with Jake.
Your eyes looked from the bed below you to see Jake’s warming smiling greeting you, “Hi” He giggled
Noticing how the tension in your body silently lifted, you felt roaming hands threading from your back to your hips until you felt a cup at your core making you gasp.
Shooting a look behind your shoulder harshly tugging at your mouth. Jay pulled at your cheek, baring the sight before him greater to see the soaked covered crevice glistening before his eyes.
He licked his lips in anticipation, tasting the hint of whatever was on it mixing together on his tongue.
Your head was turned back staring at Jake’s toned stomach, the lines dipping with each drop and your eyes fell further down to the bulge now in front of you.
You gulped feeling your hole subconsciously fluttering around nothing, having Jay smirk noticing your pulsating entrance.
Your eyes trained at Jake’s hardened cock making his heart hammer out of his chest that he swore you could hear it. Taking a look behind you to his roommate noticing his actions, he quickly shifted his eyes back onto you, creasing your head.
Right when you were going to look up to Jake, you suddenly felt the tease of your folds being pushed apart by a wet sensation. The obscene sound of the small taps against your dripping pussy made you shiver as Jay’s tip rubbed over your smeared entrance, mixing the already wet arousal everywhere.
“Jay” You whined at his tease and he sent a light slap onto your side
“What’s wrong? Still being impatient?” He hummed, his hand soothing the tingling sensation before slapping the same spot again, “What do you want sweetheart?”
Knowing what Jay was searching for, you harshly tugged at your mouth, “P-please…” Your voice too low to hear anything
“What was that?”
“Please fuck me”
Unable to see him, you were going to peer over your shoulder when the stretch at your entrance caught you off guard. You loudly gasped as you gripped at the sheets, your knuckles turning white from your hold while your body almost fell foward but was stopped by Jake.
Jay slowly eased himself into you, holding himself back from filling you up in one thrust, a hiss leaving his mouth feeling how you clenched around him. “Fuck” He stroked your hips harshly, “So good- Taking me so fucking good” His voice cracked each inch he pulled your walls apart, sinking and relishing in the tight feel around him
“J-Jay” Your voice squeaked as the stretched that quickly began to swift into a pleasurable feel, your mind too preoccupied when you suddenly felt a poke to your cheek
Your gaze shifted to see the raging tip, you looked up to see Jake sneering a cheesy smile towards you, no words were exchanged and yet, you opened your mouth wide as you looked up at him.
His expression twitched as the smile grew, “Who knew” Jake groaned more so for him rather than for you under his breath before grazing his leaking tip on your unblemished lips
Stroking the side of your face, making all around fall to silence. Maintaining eye contact with you, Jake could feel the throbbing at hand. Passing the warmth of your lips, you engulfed the tip in, welcoming the unwavering taste on your tongue.
Jake groaned, feeling the warmth around his cock lighting his whole body in fire.
At a harsh thrust jolting your body forward, you unintentionally gagged around Jake at the sudden harsh push deep inside of you.
Trying to even out your breathing in any way you can, you suddenly felt the drag of Jay’s cock slipping out of you in a slow manner before easing himself back in where he left.
Still not used to the stretched, you whined making the vibration send straight through Jake’s fuzzy mind and down the rushing blood to his twitching self resting heavy in your mouth.
Jay’s thrust started off slow and rhyminc, low groans leaving as he tried to keep himself rational to allow you to somewhat get adjusted to his size.
Your full mouth moved when Jay suddenly sent a harsh thrust forward as his rationality began to fade away, landing you further down Jake’s resting heft, who let out a stuffed grunt at the movements, having to remind himself to not release in your mouth so quickly.
Tears brimmed at your eyes, Jake’s roughed hands, the calloused feel of them rubbed against your cheek, wiping the fallen tears away. “Doin’ so good for us babe… You can do it” His words of encouragement raised your mind higher into the cloud of pleasure
You meekly nodded your head causing the movement to rupture around Jake having him let out a breathless moan when your tongue strung over, you mouth tightly wrapped around, sucking at what you can without choking.
Yet, you froze closing your eyes tightly shut when you felt the drag of emptiness before being filled again, “S-Shit” You managed to hear Jay through your ringing ears
Your shaky freehand managed to grasp the base that wasn’t in your mouth and stroke Jake focusing on your tongue swirling around tasting the faint precum that’s been leaking out.
Jay’s hand rested at your hips, the shallow thrust growing deeper after each one, his once even breathing shifted into a heavier one as he focused on the way you welcomed him in and allowed him to slip out with ease.
“Such a fucking sweetheart, taking me so good” He hissed, “Bet you were waiting for this” His finger pinched at your side making you muffle out a yelp
“C’mon tell us you’ve been waiting for this” Jay’s resting hand semt a slap towards your hips rippling out the sound followed by your huffed whine
“Y-yes” You weakly wailed trying to speak as clear as possible for them to hear
“Look at you trying to talk with your mouth full” Jay sneered seeing how you attempted to take more of Jake in your mouth
Jake’s hand rested at the back of your head helping you meet his weak thrust to push you further down his length. Your eyes tracked upwards to see Jake’s thrown head to the side, hooded eyes staring right at you.
He let out a smile watching how you looked with your lips wrapped around him. He stroked your head softly, “Pretty girl next door couldn’t wait to get fucked by us, isn’t that right babe?” He raised an eyebrow causing you whine
Jay’s pace soon grew faster, his hips slamming against you as his fingers dig at your sides for support that the form of idents could be felt. With how you clenched around his cock, taking more than the last time made his heart soar.
“Such a nasty girl but, you’re our nasty girl, aren’t ya?” Jay darkly chuckled sending a harsh thrust that made you swallow Jake whole
The moment that he hit the back of your, he groaned loudly, his fingers wrinkling as he could feel your throat contracting around the new feel of him deeper. “Fuck” Jake loudly grunted followed by your gagging sounds
The feel of Jay’s tip everything inside of you was a pleasurable feel you never felt before to feeling Jake hitting the back of your throat, your senses heightened as your mind faded into a fog of just your two neighbors.
“J-Ja-“ Your muffled voice was barely audible causing each of them to let out a laugh, the jolts of your body kept moving forward from Jay’s cock hitting your insides, molding you just for him
Jake softly drew himself back from your mouth, a wash of breath air filling your lungs making you suck in the deep breath before he bucked his hips back in and out, filling your mouth again of him, “You’re taking him so good, look at you”
You clamped around Jay’slength, “Fuck, you like getting praised?” He commented in a deep groan, “Like knowing you’re being such a good girl for us?”
You weakly nodded your head, unable to respond but wanting to show some type of response and that fueled Jay’s heart—seeing your efforts to get something out for him. He rubbed his hand over your lower back and hips, his touch leaving fire trails on your skin the moment of contact.
Spit accumulated at the side of your mouth, dripping down in its wake down your chin as Jake softly slammed his hips, his cock going back down your throat as your hands grabbed whatever it could to keep you hoisted up.
Your gargle sounds filled the room with the faint sounds of Jay meeting you and the inevitable moans falling from your stuffed mouth.
Jay snapped his hips faster, his eyes trained on how all of him disappeared inside of you perfectly as Jake slowly chased after your mouth when he pulled away, only for you to grasp on him and lick his hard on from the base all the way to the top—sucking whatever he was giving you.
You could feel how Jay’s thrust was growing frantic and irregular, the muffled moans leaving your mouth only grew louder the harder he slammed his hips against yours which only fueled their growing desire further.
“Come all over him” Jake whispered, encouraging you and somehow you managed to pick it up through the noises bouncing off the wall and your mind was set
Jake’s cock was throbbing in your throat, the closing and opening of each sound you released mixed with a gagging noise made him draw closer to tie daring to snap in his stomach.
He rutted his hips faster feeling the familiar coil build up in his stomach. “You’ll take it right? What I give you, right babe?” Jake’s voice squeaked higher as his stomach began to tighten
Jay’s hand thread over your back to your waist, wrapping his arm around as he slammed his hips harder against yours, his fingers pressed over your stomach and pushed deep into it, “Nasty girl is going to take what we give her” He grumbled it as a statement rather than a question and you knew that you wouldn't have to try—you would
Jake’s groans turned into small pants as he stilled his hips and let out a gruntled whine as the warm liquid filled your mouth and you jerked, feeling how it slicked past your throat. “So good-So fucking good”
Yet, Jay continued to ram his hips causing your mouth to vibrate around Jake having him hiss at the simulation still dragging out through his high, “H-Hurry up Jay” Jake sneered as he tried to pull away from your mouth, the shaking of his body worsening if he stays any longer
Yet, he stopped when you weakly wrapped your hand around his shaft that he could only pull away halfway. You pumped what wasn’t in your mouth, your tongue licking his tip clean seeking in the air that you could before taking a big gulp to get rid of the remnants of Jake’s cum in your mouth.
Your mouth fell open as the obscene sounds lolled off your tongue with Jay’s cock filling your insides with each trust and through it all, Jake caught a glimpse of the inside of your cleaned mouth—with the exception of a few white strings lingering behind.
“F-Fuck” His voice cracked when you sucked his tip cleaned regardless of his softening cock at hand, “P-please” Jake pleaded when you took him back in your slacked mouths
Muffled through the sounds, Jay’s harsh thrust after another soon came to a stop. “S-Sweet girl, such a good damn girl” One harsh thrust sent before another as he bottomed himself forcing himself as deep as humanly possible as he marked up your once velvet walls full of him in a loud groan—bliss taking over.
You moaned at the sudden warm fillment flowing in your inside as you let go of Jake with a loud pop, landing face first—your head on the mattress while your body shivered from Jay filling you up.
Your hands weakly crumbled the sheets beneath you as pitiful whines rumbled out of your chest.
Jay remained inside of you, stuffing you full of him as his calloused bruised hands roaming all around your back, “Did so good. So fucking proud of you-Took the both of us too damn good” His voice was warm that you could feel it in your body but wasn’t able to properly comprehend in your mind
“Sweetheart?” He softly called out and you turned your head to the to side catching a glimpse of the dismantled Jay behind you
The few hairs stuck to his forehead, the bruised face glistening in sweat as it trickled down his neck and past his collarbone to stop at his built chest.
You fluttered around Jay making his eyes whip to where he and you were still attached. He watched the few remnants of his release inside of you managed to escape where it could, his heart raced at the scene.
The feel of drag from his cock out of you made you whine at the sudden emptiness and stretch leaving you as Jay watched at how your hole flattered around nothing before the few spurts of his cum leaked out, his eyes widened realizing that it couldn’t stop at just that—after just one mere round.
Jake shushed your heaving self, his hand carefully stroked your head. Turning your head, you see Jake’s warm smile, his red cut cheek still catching your gaze and his side bruised lip.
Your eyes flickered closed as he dipped down capturing your mouth with his and his face slightly scrunched at the faint taste of him on your lips.
You melted in the plush of his lips meeting yours but you gasped when you felt fingers glide across your messy folds, gathering whatever was smeared around it and pushing it back inside of your entrance—where it’s meant to be, “Sticky” Jay whispered in a daze like haze as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you
Jake gave one longer peck as he softly gripped your face, a hum in his chest erupting out before he pulled away. “Can you go one more?” He asked past his swollen lips
Your heart was hammering out of your chest, your body was trying to catch up from the previous orgasms.
And yet, you nodded your head causing a bloom over his chest before he excitedly captured your lips in a quick peck. “So good for me-For us. Promise it’ll feel good. Just let us take care of you” Jake mumbled before giving a smile and letting go of your face to shoot a harsh glare towards Jay—different from how he looked at you
His roommate didn’t flinch for a second, already having been looking at him with a smirk resting on his face. Jay curled his fingers inside of you causing you to hiss loudly because even if he had his time—he’d enjoy it if you were still acknowledging him.
“You heard him sweetheart, let us take care of you” Jay planted a wet kiss on your bare back, his eyes falling into a hooded look that made your tired insides twist
Your body was turned over, your back meeting the soft mattress and a satisfied hum slipped past your lips at the stern support lifting your body.
Through your half-lidded eyes, you looked up to see Jay and Jake looking at you, a glistening look in each of their eyes that screamed something ineligible to you—fueled by a desire to devour you whole.
“Just focus on us. No need to think of anything else in that pretty head of yours”
✮⋆˙
Your face scrunched hearing the loud banging rupturing in the distance. Shifting in the sheets, you buried your head deeper into the warmth that engulfed you, believing if you ignored it long enough then it'll seize to exist.
When your eyes and mind began to fade back into slumber, the warmth at your side disappeared with the exception of a feathering touch ghosting your head with an inaudible whisper before disappearing.
Dazedly opening your eyes adjusting to the sunlight peeking inside, you looked next to you, noticing the once occupied space now empty with a dip in the mattress of who once laid there.
Your sore body is now catching up to your mind when you try to move with the addition of a weight holding you down and forcing you closer to the body behind you as the head nuzzles deeply into your back, holding you close.
You looked down to see the bruised red skin resting at the knuckles, the faint scratches on them wrapped around your waist.
However, at the sound of the door carefully opening, you lifted your head up to Jake’s loose clothing hanging onto his body, his disheveled messy hair, and his heavy eyes shining in the sunlight.
“Who was at the door?” Your voice low and strained as you rubbed your eyes, trying to slip out of Jay’s bear like hug at your waist who was yet to wake up
Jake smirked, closing the bedroom door behind him just to lean up against it with a sigh before pushing himself off, his steps slow and nearing until his head was leveled with yours.
Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed his finger over his tugging upwards lips.
The hands wrapped at your waist threaded higher nearing your chest in a slower manner, Jay rested his head onto your shoulder. Jake sank to his knees, his hands moving down to your knees before having pry them open.
“Neighbor. Told us to keep the noise down next time”
——
a special dedication and tag to @hearts4hee, for you hon<3
apologies that this story took so long. it was a long one to write and after writing the later half of it it 2x only for it to get deleted i didn't know if this was ever going to get finished. anyway, hope you like it nonetheless. enjoy ^^
Word Count: approx. 29k
Pairing(s): tutor johnny (mr. suh) x fem reader feat. professor jaehyun (mr. jeong)
Warning(s): explicit language, mdni (minors do not interact), smut, father johnny, johnny as a dad, infidelity, cheating, tutor x student, dubcon, slow burn, au, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), s*uiriting
Preview (no spoilers here lol): Managing to shove them higher you put on a bright smile. “Well, then these are for you Mr. Suh! I also bought you some chocolates. My mom and dad like these. I always get it for them for their anni —” you stop yourself. “Sp-Special occasions. Or when I want something from them.” You turn your almost blunder into a joke. “I also have some flowers and chocolates for Lily. Mr. Jeong told me what her favorites are.”
Again you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. Mr. Suh’s body hunching over until his face is buried in your neck. “Thank you,” he pulls you close to him. “Thank you.”
Disclaimer: because of the length of the story i am not able to format it the way i normally do. so again, my apologies. i'll keep this in mind going forward :)
It wasn’t as if you didn’t try. You did everything humanly possible to turn your grades around. Studying to all hours of the night. Going to the tutors on campus for help — all of which ran for the hills when they saw you coming. Even asking your bestie, Doyoung, for help. Knowing full well what a pickle you were in he volunteered as well. However, when he saw how truly helpless you were he forfeited and told you to change career paths.
Currently in your second year at Neo University, you were acing every class except one. One single class in which you were warned about. No one passed with flying colors, even Doyoung struggled. Doyoung, the Valedictorian when the two of you were in High School — excelling in his classes with flying colors in Elemntary and Middle school, but when it came to this class — barely passing with a D+. This class was a different beast all together. Some girls in your dormitory actually cried when their final grades came in. Only sending shivers down your spine for the following semester where you too would find yourself in tears time and time again.
Sadly, all of your feeble attempts only resounded in a giant letter in blood red ink, F. Again! This has been your fifth F of the semester. Thankfully completing all of the homework assignments, even the extra problems was keeping your head above water. But still, an F was not what you wanted to see. Not only that, your teacher decided to emphasize the triumph with a thick red circle. And to top it off, scribbled underneath, ‘stay after class,’ written in beautiful cursive handwriting. This was it. The talk. You were dreading this moment. Every year, every teacher from primary school to secondary has given you the talk.
‘What is wrong?’ ‘What aren’t you understanding?’ ‘If you were struggling this much you should have asked for help!’ ‘Have you tried a private tutor?’ Groaning you let your head fall flat onto your desk. Mr. Jeong wasn’t going to be any different. He was going to say the same things you’ve heard all your life.
At this point you were sure that Math was just a big douche who loved to shit on you time and time again. Your personal kryptonite in the world. All of the functions, equations, a million fucking ways to do one single problem because some sick twisted asshole came around and said ‘hey, I’ve discovered a new method,’ only adding to everyone’s frustrations! Yeah, Math hated you and you hated it. Case closed.
When the bell rang and everyone scattered out of the classroom all to eager to leave, you stayed back, as instructed. Raising his arm and slicking back his dark brown hair — a habit Mr. Jeong had that made all the girls swoon, yourself included, he made his approach. Eyes dead set on you. Lips in a hard line, he pulled out the chair in front and turned it to face your desk before sitting down.
“I’m guessing you know why I’ve asked you to stay back,” he starts a long tired sigh leaving him.
“I swear I’m trying!” You rush to get everything out before he even has a chance to ask you the same questions every other teacher has asked you. “I went down to the tutoring classroom. They all have decided I’m a lost cause. I even asked my friend who took your class last semester! He only looked at me like I’m stupid. I’m not stupid by the way,” you hiss surprising Mr. Jeong. A tiny smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve struggled with Math my whole life. No matter how hard I try to study I just can’t seem to grasp any of the concepts. At this point I’m pretty sure it’s my arch nemesis!”
“Why didn’t you seek my help from the very beginning?” He asks calmly.
“I don’t want to look like an idiot right off the bat! I hate being peoples’ ‘little project.’” You roll your eyes at the label you’ve been placed with since childhood.
Turning his head away Mr. Jeong covers his growing smile with the back of his hand disguising it as a cough. “Well, I for one don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Really?!”
If this were some kind of anime you know you’d be looking at him with shaky watery eyes, grateful that someone finally sees you — not as an idiot but as someone who has the capability to accomplish their hearts desires! But since is reality you settle for a stunned expression, your mouth hanging open.
“I just think you need some guidance. May I see your test?” Nodding you grab the paper from your folder sliding it to him. “Right here, you used the right equation, but made the tiniest error here,” he points with a blue pen circling the area of your mistake. Thank heavens it wasn’t a red pen. By the end of college you’ll never want to see the color red again.
Looking up at Mr. Jeong stunned you shake your head in disbelief. “S-So I just goofed?”
“Well, yes and no. Do you go over your work and double, triple check your answers?”
“I never know if I’m right or wrong and I get freaked out and second guess myself. So I just think it is what it is and hand in my paper. I promise I’ll triple, no! Quadruple check my work next time!”
“Checking your work is only half the problem. You still aren’t understanding all the equations.” He points to a few problems on the second page. “The equations are all wrong. You mixed the second page equation setup with the third page. So, ultimately, all of the answers are wrong.”
Groaning you slam your head on your desk. Mr. Jeong moving his hands away just in time before you made another blunder and crushed his fingers. “Maybe I am stupid. I’m sorry, Mr. Jeong.”
“You’re not stupid. Please don’t call yourself that and please don’t slam your head down that hard. You’ll hurt yourself. Now, sadly, I myself am booked up solid with tutoring some of my other students. But, I do have a friend who I know can help you.”
“Really?!” You practically spring up from your seat.
“Y-Yes,” he moves away from you eyeing you suspiciously. “His name is Johnny Suh. He teaches Mathematics at a high school not far from here. If you don’t mind I can give him a call and see if he’s available to help you.”
“Yes! Please, Mr. Jeong! My mom is going to kill me if my grades don’t start taking a turn for the better.”
And with that you stand outside of Mr. Suh’s house, or mansion. Your head tilts to the side wondering how in the hell a high school teacher is able to live in a home that can be used in itself as a small school for children. Checking down at the address Mr. Jeong gave you, you check to make sure you were in the right spot. 7716 Zennie Drive.
Shrugging you ring the doorbell and place a gentle knock on the door. After your talk with Mr. Jeong, the following day when you had his class he pulled you to the side as you walked in. Stating he talked to Mr. Suh, and he was more than willing to be your tutor.
Apparently the two went way back to their early high school days as best friends. You were told you’d be taken care of but the only time Mr. Suh’s schedule was free was Wednesday, Friday and Saturday from 4PM to 7PM. Thankfully, you scheduled all your classes in the morning hours — your last class ending at 12PM, giving you ample time to eat and rest up before heading over to whom you hope is your saving grace.
But the door has remained closed. No movement. No sounds coming from inside. Checking your phone you made sure that today was in fact, Wednesday. Yep. And it was 4:14PM. Having trouble locating the home at first put you behind schedule. Yet, you’re still standing outside the massive door and no one appears to be home.
“Mr. Suh!” You knock on the door.
Stepping back you wait. Shuffling back and forth you try to focus on any signs of life coming from behind the door when a blood curdling scream comes from the other side of the house.
Jumping at the sound your hand goes to your heart. “What the —” Looking around hoping you weren’t the only one who heard the scream you find yourself alone. Great…
Reaching into your pocket you grab your keys which hold not only a whistle, but a fresh new canister of pepper spray. Gripping the spray tightly in your hand you slowly make your way around the side of the house.
“M-Mr. Suh…” you whisper. No answer. Sticking yourself to the wall of the home you make your way around the first corner only to see something you didn’t expect.
“No!” Another high-pitched scream pierces your ears.
“I’m going to get you!” An older gentleman chases after a small girl in a tutu around a massive backyard.
“No! The evil troll king!” The little girl wails.
“Get back here with my gold!”
Blinking a few times you hope your mind is making up the scene in front of you. This is Mr. Suh?! The man in front of you appears to be around the same age as Mr. Jeong, but he is much more…he lets out such a light hearted laugh that you step back from him, handsome!!!
“Lord help me…” you whisper to yourself.
Mr. Jeong was already the hottest teacher on campus. Granted, not exactly your type. He held some kind of mystery behind his eyes that unsettled you the numerous times you made eye contact with him. Perhaps it was a look of pity he had knowing you were bombing his class, but there was something darker and mysterious. Something that made your stomach twist and turn.
Many girls would gawk and stare when he’d walk across campus after his classes ended before his break. Admittedly so have you. Every time he walked it seemed as if there was a red carpet or some type of runway he was strutting down. The man was a living breathing luxury brand model! Definitely up there with the Versace or Prada models.
Mr. Suh, gulping the saliva that was threatening to pour from your parted lips — he was a different type of handsome, and absolutely your type. Short jet black hair sticks to his forehead the longer he plays with the little girl. A loose fitted white button down shirt, with three buttons undone revealing a glimpse of his chest. A broad ches, and just the thought of what he looks like shirtless has your heart beating faster. You were entering dangerous waters with your gawking but you continued. Loose fitted trousers that didn’t give way to the shape of his legs but with the overall size of Mr. Suh, he absolutely has muscular legs. He just screamed toned.
“U-Uh,” you try to find your voice holding up your hand. “E-Excuse me,” you manage to squeak out.
Freezing, the little girl and who you assume is Mr. Suh turn in your direction.
“Daddy!” The little girl cries out before running behind him. Her tiny hands clenching onto his pants — eyes peeking around him to look at you, before hiding once more.
Daddy? You stare wide-eyed. He’s a father, already?!
“I’m sorry,” you start to back away. “I don’t mean to intrude. I heard a scream and —”
“It’s fine,” a chuckle comes from the man. “You’re the student Jaehyun sent over, right?”
“Jaehyun?” Your head tilts. “M-Mr. Jeong?”
Nodding, Mr. Suh walks forward, his daughter still clinging to him for dear life. “Sorry, yes. Mr. Jeong,” Johnny towers over you. “I’m Johnny Suh, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reaches out his hand.
Saying your name quickly, you enclose your hand around his only to gasp at the size difference. “N-Nice to meet you too…” you say in awe.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long. I lost track of time. This is my daughter, Lily.” He gestures to the girl glaring at you from behind him.
Bending down to her level you try to give her your sweetest smile. “Hi, Lily. It’s nice to meet you.”
“No!” She shouts at you and runs away from you and into the house.
“U-Uhhh…” a sliver of sweat rolls down the side of your face.
“Lily!” Mr. Suh shouts. “I’m sorry, for her behavior. I think she’s a little shy.” He brushes his hair out of his face. “Please, come inside. So, Jaehyun told me you’re having trouble in his class,” he starts off the conversation.
“Y-Yes,” you quickly follow behind him. “No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to understand a single thing he’s teaching. I’ve tried asking for help on campus but no one seems to want to deal with me. It’s sad to say that you too may fall prey to my idiocy and drop me as well.”
Chuckling Mr. Suh slides open the glass door leading straight into the kitchen. “I’m sure we can figure out what the problem is.”
“I hope so. My mom’s going to kill me if my grades don’t improve soon.”
Taking off your shoes at the door you’re led to a small table in front of a window. “Please, have a seat and I’ll be right back. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?”
“A glass of water would be lovely.”
Heading over to his cupboard he grabs down a glass, goes to the fridge and pours you some water. Thinking he would do what your father always does when you ask for a glass of water and get it from the tap — this was definitely an act of kindness.
“I’m just going to go check on Lily, then I’ll be right back.”
“I can leave and come back some other time if this is an inconvenience for you. I don’t want to take your time away from your daughter.”
“Nonsense. She’s just a little crabby today,” he rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t you get your book out and start on your assignment and I’ll be right back.”
“Yes, sir,” you nod and scramble to take out your book and binder.
When Mr. Suh was out of earshot you exhale a long deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. This is terrible. Absolutely terrible! Taking out your phone you shoot a quick message to your best friend Jennifer.
I’m in deep shit!
My tutor is soooo hot!
Like fucking hot!
And he’s sooo tall!
What do I do Jen?!!!!
Hiding your phone under your leg you wait for her reply. Having seen the time, she should be getting out of soccer practice soon and heading for the lockers. Twiddling your pencil in your hand you try to focus on the problem staring back at you.
This was going to be grueling. How is it that for the last year and a half you haven’t stepped foot in front of a man you thought was handsome — but when you need help because you’re a dumbass, the Universe places a walking Greek God before you?
Then again, you scoff. “He’s married, you idiot.” You whisper. “And he’s a dad! Focus!!”
Finding a smidge of peace from your rampant thoughts you get to work. The homework seemed easy when Mr. Jeong was explaining it. All you had to do was follow the equation that you just learned. Simple enough.
Or so you thought... An eon went by and you were still staring at the first problem. Pencil snagged between your teeth, bite marks up and down the piece of wood. A personal habit you picked up specifically from Mr. Jeong’s class.
“You use this, to solve this.” You start talking to yourself quietly. “Then why is it so damn hard to solve this problem?!”
“Stuck already?” A voice whispers next to your ear.
Jumping back, your phone crashing to the floor and you stare wide-eyed at Mr. Suh. With a small cat-like grin he takes a seat next to you, picking up your phone in the process.
“Didn’t mean to startle you. You were just hyper focused and I couldn’t resist.”
“Uh, y-yeah,” you reach for your phone only for it to slip out of your hands. “Shit,” you curse.
“About the language,” Mr. Suh clears his throat.
“Oh no!” You pop your head up from under the table. “Yes. No. I’m sorry. I know you have a child. I’m just nervous I guess. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”
Nodding he leans back in his chair. “Why are you nervous? Is Jaehyun stressing you out with all the work?”
“No!” You shout. “I mean,” you try to speak calmly. “I’m just nervous that you’ll find out I’m unteachable.”
“No one is unteachable. I’m sure Jaehyun will tell you the same thing. He’s given me a heads up on what you’re having trouble with, but if you don’t mind me asking, may I see your tests?”
Horror befalls you. He can’t be serious. He doesn’t actually want to see that travesty. Surely Mr. Jeong told him how much of a dumbass you were. He has to know that you are in desperate need of help.
“My-My tests?”
“Yes. I want to see exactly where you’re struggling. This tutoring is going to be in regards to your Final. For the next two and a half months I’m going to try my best to bring your grade up so you can pass and put this class and Jaehyun behind you. In order to do that, I need to see everything that you’re struggling with.”
“Fine…” Opening your binder you fish out all of your tests and quizzes. Every proof of your failure. “I’ll understand if you want to quit while you’re ahead.” You squint your eyes tightly as you slide the papers over to him.
“Oh stop it can’t be —” he pauses mid-sentence his mouth falling open. “Oh, wow…” he mumbles.
“Yep. Told you. I’m stupid. Still want to take on this walking nightmare?”
“I mean he told me you were really struggling but I didn’t think this badly.” He glances up at you for a second to see the pout on your lips and in your eyes. “I’m not going to run away. I’m just shocked he waited until you were this deep in the hole to do something.”
“Maybe he thought I would magically get better.”
“He said his schedule is booked solid with tutoring other students?”
“Yep.”
“He’s so blind,” Mr. Suh shakes his head. “Okay, how about today I help you with your homework for Monday, and by tomorrow I’ll have a study plan and a guide all made up for you!”
“Eh?! You still want to help me? Are you sure? I won’t be upset if you say no. Even my best friend abandoned me.”
Laughing he waves a dismissive hand. “Believe it or not, Jaehyun wasn’t the Math genius he is today. Even when he was back in college he struggled a little. We all need help every now and then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Suh! I won’t let you down!”
Just like he promised, he helped you with your homework. Shockingly only looking at you incredulously a few times when he needed to dumb everything down for you to the point his daughter would be able to understand. Feeling a little better after your first tutoring session, you head back to your dorm with your head held high. Maybe this was going to be your second wind. A power up to keep you in the game.
You were sure of one thing. You would not let Mr. Suh down.
When you got to your dorm room your best friend, Jennifer was waiting impatiently outside the door. Her fingers being gnawed by her teeth. “Where the hell have you been? I was worried about you. I tried calling and texting back.”
“Eh?” You grab your phone. “My phone was on the whole —” you press the home button but it doesn’t turn on. “This can’t be. I charged it before I left. I had a full battery.”
Pressing the small button on the side you find your phone had been turned off completely. A cold shiver rakes over you. Did Mr. Suh turn off your phone when he picked it up? Your Lock Screen appearing, a text from your friend the only thing displayed.
A hot tutor?!
How hot is he?
A scale of 0-10?
Take a picture I want to see!
Gulping you show her your phone. “I-I think Mr. Suh turned off my phone. Jen! What do I do? What if he saw your message?! How can I show my face around him again? He probably thinks I’m disgusting! He’s a married man with a child! What do I do?!” You stomp around like a child as you open your door.
“Don’t freak out. Maybe he just turned it off. He could have a no phone policy.”
“You think?”
Nodding she ushers you to your bed where she plops down beside you. “So, tell me everything! Seriously! How hot is he?”
Giving his daughter one last kiss, Johnny wishes her a goodnight and sweet dreams. Today was a day like no other. Little did he know when he decided to take on this job of being a tutor would he find out that his student needed a savior imstead. Sighing he reaches into his pocket for his phone.
Jaehyun had a lot of explaining to do. Why he didn’t tell him you were so far behind in your studies? When he said one of his students needs help and he’s booked solid he assumed it was just a normal case of an over achieving student. Seeing your grades brought on a whole other problem. You would need to get at least a B+ on your final to even have a passing grade. Why would he let you get so far behind, and how does Jaehyun expect you to get your grades up in such a short period of time?
It just didn’t make sense. Jaehyun has always been active in the Math Lab, as well as private tutoring jobs on the weekends. During his breaks he helps any student who can’t meet up with him after his usual working hours. Something had to be up. There is no way he would let you slip through the cracks like this.
Holding the phone to his ear, Johnny steps away from his daughters room.
“Hey!” Jaehyun says on the other end. “How did it go?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Johnny hisses quietly. “Why did you let her get to this point? When I saw her grades I thought I was seeing things! Seriously, Jaehyun…what the hell is going on?”
“I didn’t intend for this to happen.” Jaehyun snaps defensively. “I’ve been booked solid since the semester started. She was doing poor in the beginning but so were a lot of other students. This course is one of the hardest courses to teach and learn. I figured if she was really having trouble she would ask me for help or go to the Math Lab.”
“She’s in deep trouble, you know that, right?”
“Of course I know that. Which is why I sent her to you. Plus,” Jaehyun pauses alarming Johnny. “I wouldn’t have been a good tutor for her anyway.”
“Why not? You’re her teacher! You know all the answers! How would you not be a good tutor?” Johnny heads for his study.
Mumbling into the phone Jaehyun confesses. “A conflict of interest.”
Stopping dead in his tracks Johnny stares out into the empty hallway. Jaehyun had to be kidding. He couldn’t have possibly — “For fuck’s sake, man…”
“I know. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I don’t even know when it happened. But it did. That’s why I sent her to you. You are the only person who can help her. I talked to those in the Math Lab and they can barely help the students who understand the basic concepts of what I’m teaching. She was never going to get help from them. I would help her but I can’t.”
“No shit!” Johnny rubs his forehead feeling a migraine slowly creeping up. “I’ll handle things here. She seems to need a lot of one-on-one guidance. What you’re teaching her isn’t hard but at the same time it is. Exactly what major is she in?”
“Well, this class is for those who are education majors. Primarily those who want to teach either Elementary or Middle School. Sorry for all this. I really wish I could help.”
“Yeah, I know. I may need to push some things around,” Johnny opens the door to his study. Off to the side a liquor cabinet rests with his favorite brands of wine, brandy and vodka. Putting his phone on speaker he pours himself a glass of vodka. The tension already leaving his body. “If I’m to help her get a B, she’ll need help everyday.” He chugs down the hard liquor wincing as it burns the back of his throat.
“What about Lily?”
Laughing, Johnny plops down into his chair. Your face when Lily ran away from you resurfacing. “Lily got scared of her and ran away. She asked me who she was and then asked if she would be around a lot more,” he smiles gently. “She had such a sour face it was hilarious.”
“So, Lily’s staying strong?” Jaehyun asks gently.
Swirling the small amount of liquid left in his glass Johnny exhales. “As good as can be expected. She still doesn’t understand what’s going on. Hell, neither do I.”
“Have you heard from —”
Johnny quickly stops him. “No! And I don’t want to talk about her,” he glares at the snug silver ring wrapped around his finger. A daily reminder of the love of his life’s betrayal. “I’m done with her.” He touches the ring, fiddling with it. “I’ve given up. It’s been two years. I need to focus on Lily.” He slides the ring up his finger but pushes it back down.
“I really am sorry man. I thought she was the one.”
“Me too…”
Looking at the problems you do exactly what Mr. Suh told you to do. Breathe. Take your time. Go through each step slowly. There is no need to rush when it comes to homework. It’s all about understanding the basic fundamentals and building confidence. Solve the problem and get an answer. Check so that you don’t miss anything and especially check to see if you made a mistake and got the answer wrong. Everything seemed to be going great. For once your confidence seemed like it was soaring. Then again…
“Only three right?!” You slam your pencil down onto your small desk in your room. This was useless. For the past two hours you worked hard to try to figure out the problems. Doing exactly as instructed only to end up with three out of seven answers right!
The worst part is that you don’t understand where you got the problems wrong. Which part did you have a hiccup and why you didn’t see it and how you can avoid it for next time. You did everything right. Triple checked to see if you missed a step or did something wrong and yet, the same thing happens. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
Closing your book for the night you trudge to your bed plopping down. Tomorrow you’ll ask Mr. Suh where you made a mistake and hopefully he can help you.
Mr. Suh, you try to hold back the smile creeping on your face. After having talked with Jennifer you were for sure going to love and dread spending time with him. Love, getting help and finally seeing your grades turn around for the better — at least that’s what you’re hoping, but also for the eye candy factor. His whole presence just made you feel weak in the knees. The dreadful part, actually having to learn all this bullshit your University was calling Math and the fact that Mr. Suh is a married man.
“His wife,” you whisper. “Why wasn’t she home too?”
Shrugging, you tear your thoughts away from her unknown whereabouts. Whoever she is she’s most likely beautiful. To find a man as handsome as Mr. Suh, and have a cute daughter like Lily, she’s bound to be a gorgeous woman. Someone who works to help others just like Mr. Suh being a teacher and willing to help you. A power couple and their precious angel.
Rolling over onto your back aggressively, you kick your legs like a child. If only you could find your one true love too. To have what Mr. Suh has. Actually, first, you need to get through Mr. Jeong’s class, then find yourself a job, and then you can worry about finding a man. Just as your eyes start to close your phone dings startling you. An unknown number and a message sits on your Lock Screen, making you spring up.
Next time the cellphone gets turned off when the lesson begins.
No distractions while you’re under my tutelage.
You can swing by tomorrow around 1PM.
We’ll have more time to work.
Sleep well. You’ll need it.
J.Suh
And boy was he serious when he said you would need sleep. Actually, for the past three weeks he’s been working you like a dog. Having put together and entire binder of what to expect on the Final. What you didn’t understand from all of your quizzes, tests, and the Midterm. A Bible of information completely personalized to suit your needs. Every day you went over to Mr. Suh’s house to get help. When you showed up on Saturday after your first study session, he stated he thinks you should come by every day. Monday through Friday your lessons were from 3PM- 7PM. On Saturday’s, secretly the worst day out of the week, you spent six grueling hours being tutored. Sunday your only saving grace.
Honestly, how a man who teaches all day can have the energy to help your dumbass self is beyond you. But, there was a silver lining. At the end of each day, Mr. Suh would create a tiny three question pop quiz talking about the main concepts he helped you with. And after the first week — a complete travesty, you actually started to grow in confidence. The problems were making sense and with this last pop quiz, you got all the answers right!
His method of madness was actually working. He taught you something! After that small victory you were positive you could end up learning what Mr. Jeong was teaching and you would find a way to turn your grades around. On the topic of grades, that is one thing Mr. Suh never talked to you about. On three separate occasions you asked him what grade you needed to get on your final in order to pass. He would brush the question off by saying,
‘The final is a long ways from now. Let’s focus on your upcoming test.’
However, today is the day you’re getting back your first test since you started getting tutored by Mr. Suh. When you were taking it, you heart started to beat quickly. The numbers and questions becoming blurred and spiraling out of control but thinking about everything you’ve learned you took a deep breath and focused. The whole class was empty by the time you finished. Mr. Jeong waiting patiently as you took up until the bell to complete it.
Now, you’ll see whether or not your efforts were in vain — that is as soon as Mr. Jeong shuts up and hands you back your damn test!
“Okay, you can start packing up,” Mr. Jeong places the whiteboard marker down onto his desk. “I’ll be handing back your tests from last week. Please if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to ask me.”
Your leg starts to shake. Your pencil rammed into your mouth. This is it. He makes his way across the first row. One by one you see your classmates expressions. Some surprised, some angry, some…well, you know that look all to well. Defeated. As you stare at each of your classmates your nerves start to take over you. Your whole body tingling with anticipation. Mr. Suh would be in the middle of teaching his second class by now and told you to send him a message about how you did around lunchtime.
Mr. Jeong stops in front of you. His eyes unreadable. Lips in a hard line. He grabs the corner of your paper flipping it over onto the back before moving onto the next student. Saying a quick prayer you turn the paper over.
Your whole body becomes numb. A cold sweat spreading over your skin like wildfire. This can’t be happening. Flipping through the pages of your test you go over everything with a fine tooth comb. But it was happening. In very bold and almost threatening letters, ‘stay after,’ was bleeding through the first page onto the second.
The bell rings and everyone leaves except for you. Again. Not even bothering to pack up your belongings until after Mr. Jeong had a word with you, you wait until the last student leaves his classroom. He wishes them well and closes the door. Gulping you sit up straight.
“I think we should talk about your test,” Mr. Jeong starts.
“Y-Yes, sir…”
He saunters up to you, once again seeming like the ground is his runway — pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Combing his fingers through his hair he shows you something you never expected to see. A huge smile with his dimples on display.
“Congrats!” He leans back into the chair. “You did a wonderful job!”
“Wonderful?!” You scoff. “I got a C- practically a D! How is that wonderful?!” You point to the paper. “After all this work I thought I would for sure get an A this time.”
Laughing, Mr. Jeong turns his face to hide his rather beautiful smile. Something else you would have never expected to see from him.
“Trust me. You did a wonderful job. You can’t expect in such a short time to see massive results. You should feel proud of yourself.” He rests his hands on your desk. “Seriously, this is making me feel that you won’t have to take this course again next semester.”
“That would be a gift from God himself,” you mumble only to realize what you said. “Ah! S-Sorry Mr. Jeong, it’s just —”
“I understand. When I had to learn how to teach this course I wanted to run away myself. It’s not easy and I know it’s hard to learn. I’m just glad you’re doing better.”
“Well, it’s thanks to you and Mr. Suh. I owe everything to the two of you.”
“Speaking of Mr. Suh, how is everything?”
“Great!” You beam at him. “Mr. Suh went through all of my old tests and quizzes and pointed out where I made mistakes. How to solve the problems and how to find my errors,” you bring out the binder he created for you. “He’s gone above and beyond anything I’ve ever experienced and I’m so grateful for that.”
Mr. Jeong takes a look at the binder his eyes widening. You were right. This was going above and beyond the call of duty. Scanning over the little quizzes he’s even given you, Mr. Jeong’s happy demeanor starts to fade. He was happy you were doing better, but at the same time he knows full well he would have never thought of doing this for you or any of his students.
“Impressive,” he clears his throat. “I’ll have to treat Johnny to a beer or two for his help.” He hands you back the binder. “So, everything is okay? He’s treating you nicely?”
“Oh, yes! He’s very nice! I’m truly grateful for all the help he’s given me.”
Nodding, Mr. Jeong leans forward. “I’m happy for you. I do want to apologize for not trying to do something to help you sooner.”
“No. It’s totally fine. It was my fault. I should have asked for help, or asked questions in class — something so that my grades didn’t fall to this point. Oh! Mr. Jeong, I’ve been wondering, exactly what grade do I need to get on my final in order to pass your class? Mr. Suh keeps avoiding the question which is making me a little nervous.”
“Oh, uh,” Mr. Jeong turns from you his eyes trembling. “I think if Mr. Suh wants you to focus on your studies that’s what you need to worry about. The final is still some time away.”
Pouting you glare at him. “It’s going to be impossible for me to pass this class isn’t it?”
“No, it’s just going to take a lot of work,” he rubs the back of his neck. “If you want, we can get a better look at your grades and what you need to do in order to pass this class.”
“Yes, please!”
“Well, I’m free for this break period. Unless you have a class.”
“Nope. My next class doesn’t start until 11.”
“Great, follow me then.”
Quickly you pack up your belongings into your backpack and follow Jaehyun through the hallway where people were coming and going to their classes. As you make your way through the halls you notice that people are staring your way with strange gazes. They weren’t shocked, or angry, more like perplexed with a dash of spite. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.
Jeong Jaehyun, Mr. Jeong, the campus hottie. The Professor every girl and woman wishes to have but only those in the Education department ever get. Joy and rapture. Walking beside him you glance up to see his side profile. He is very handsome. Eyes laser focused on the path he’s walking. Shoulders straight, broad, with a natural sway that shows nothing but confidence. Even his strides excude confidence. Upon further inspection he dresses nicely as well.
On most occasions he wears a button down white shirt, black slacks, with black shoes and a gold watch. Very simple yet on him, luxurious. The only person you think that can compete with such a simple style is Mr. Suh. Laughing to yourself you see how they became friends. They have a similar aura about them but Mr. Suh is a lot easier to be around. Then again, it’s probably because he’s not your Professor and you’re not terrified of failing his class.
“Exactly how long are you going to stare at me?” Mr. Jeong asks you a playful tone in his voice.
“E-Eh?! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
Keeping your eyes down at your feet you walk a few steps behind him ashamed of your ogling. It wasn’t like you to stare at someone so shamelessly. Then to be caught red handed, the embarrassment sweeping over you is all consuming.
“I don’t mind the staring,” Mr. Jeong continues. “I get stared at all the time.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I really didn’t mean to stare.”
“Please, class is over. You can call me Jaehyun.”
Stopping dead in your tracks you stare at your Professor. There is no way in hell you can call him, Jaehyun. You are his student and he the teacher. It would be improper.
“I don’t think I can,” you chuckle nervously.
“When you’re with Johnny, what do you call him?”
“Mr. Suh.”
“All the time?”
Nodding you smile. “He is my tutor after all. He’s there to help me. Not to be my friend. Plus, he’s already taking a good chunk of his time to help me instead of spending it with his wife and daughter.”
“His wife?” Mr. Jeong walks up to you. “What do you mean his wife?” He grabs you by your shoulders.
“U-Uh, well I haven’t seen her at all, but he has a wedding band.”
Sighing in relief Mr. Jeong releases your shoulders. “Oh, okay. Sorry about that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Has Johnny talked to you about his wife?”
“No, she never comes up in conversation. Actually, nothing personal has come up at all. It’s strictly school work and studying.”
Nodding Mr. Jeong starts walking again, heading down the stairs. The light atmosphere surrounding the two of you long gone the moment you mentioned Mr. Suh’s wife. Was she a sensitive topic? For the last three weeks you’ve wondered why each night you never saw her. By the time your tutoring sessions ended it was 7PM, she would have at least come home by then.
A thought strikes across your mind. What if she’s sick? What if she can’t get out of bed and that’s the reason you’ve never seen her. Slowly your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Mr. Suh’s wife lying in bed ill. Not able to play with her precious daughter, or spend time with her husband in their beautiful home — at least what you’ve seen of it. Smiling brightly you plan out something just for her. A gift that will hopefully brighten her day.
Holding open the door to the side of the building, Mr. Jeong allows you to walk outside first. “Mr. Jeong,” you keep up with his pace. “What type of woman is Mr. Suh’s wife?”
“She, uh,” he starts fumbling over his words. A strange sight for the suave Professor everyone adores. “Wh-Why do you want to know?”
“I want to get her something. I can only assume that since I’ve never seen her she must be sick, right? I can’t imagine what Mr. Suh must be going through. Juggling work, his daughter, his wife, and now me. He truly is a saint.”
“No. You’ve got it all wrong,” he grabs your wrist stopping you. “Johnny, his wife, she’s not sick.”
Your heart that was wading in the dark depths of your stomach instantly bounces back to its proper place. “Well that’s wonderful news! I still want to thank her for sharing her husband. I know all this tutoring must be an inconvenience for her. I was thinking of getting her chocolates and flowers. Does that sound like a good idea?”
Shaking his head Mr. Jeong runs a stressful hand through his hair. “No. It doesn’t. She won’t get them.”
“Why won’t she?”
“She left. She’s gone. Don’t ever bring her up in front of Johnny or Lily.”
Gasping you cover your mouth with your hands. “Sh-She died?!”
Sighing, Mr. Jeong grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours he leads you straight to the student center. The stares that you receive inside the Mathematics building has now tripled. Mr. Jeong’s eyes glaring ahead making everyone part way as if he were Moses and they the Red Sea. Looking down at your hands intertwined with his, your heart skips a beat. This was inappropriate, especially on campus. If someone saw you and asked you what the hell was with the hand holding how would you explain it?
Trying to tug your hand away from his he holds onto you tighter. Glancing back at you for a second, brows furrowed and his lips in the tightest line they all but disappeared. He was in no mood for you to try to escape. Letting go of the possibility of walking next to him you get tugged along like an insolent child.
Straight into the Student Center you’re taken into the elevator where he keeps a firm hold of your hand. Only when the elevator reaches the third floor does he let go — his peers and other campus staff becoming visible. Greeting everyone whom he sees cheerfully he takes you back to his office. Opening the door he tells you to have a seat at the available chair in front of his desk. Quickly sitting you hold your backpack against your chest terrified of what he’s going to say to you. He takes a seat exhaling deeply, eyes and face looking exhausted.
“You don’t have to look so scared.” He slides into his desk facing you.
“You looked like you were going to yell at me any second while you dragged me across campus.”
“I’m sorry about that. I just needed to get you to a quiet secluded place before I continued our conversation.”
“Why did it need to be quiet and secluded?”
“The whole campus doesn’t need to know about my best friend’s problems. Plus, you know people around here. Whether they have the whole story or not what they hear they talk about. Now, what I’m going to tell you needs to stay between the two of us. I will know if you tell anyone because no one and I repeat no one knows Johnny, and no one knows what is going on in his life. So if I hear his name or his daughter’s name and what is going on I will fail you!”
“Isn’t that blackmail?” You tilt your head. “Also, I’m pretty sure you can’t fail me without a legitimate reason.” Mr. Jeong stares at you blankly. He really wasn’t in the mood for lighthearted jokes. “I’m sorry. I understand.”
“Johnny and Lily were left behind by his wife and her mother. One night while he was in his study she packed a bag and left without telling him where she would was going and for how long. It was right after Lily’s third birthday. She’s now five. They haven’t heard a word from her for over two years. He’s sensitive when it comes to her.
“If you think he’s married it means he still has his wedding band on. For the last year he’s told me he’s done with her. He’s done waiting and that he doesn’t want to see or hear from her ever again, but if you saw that he still has his ring on — that means he’s still holding onto the hope that she’ll come back. Lily doesn’t remember her mom that much, but she does ask about her. If she asks you don’t tell her anything. Johnny’s told her that she is sick and in a special hospital.”
“Why doesn’t he tell her the truth?”
“She’s five. She wouldn’t understand.”
“Still, when she gets older and the ‘mom is sick and in the hospital’ story stops working what will he do then? Tell his daughter that her father is a liar. So not only did her mother ditch her but now her father is a liar.”
He shakes his head sighing. “You’re young, you don’t understand.”
“Mr. Jeong, I may be young, but I’m not stupid. My father has kept me a secret from his entire family. Apparently their super religious who at the time that he ran away were two seconds from joining a cult. He told me right away when I was old enough to understand why I couldn’t see his family. I’ve only grown up with my mom’s side.
“For years they had to repeat the story until it sunk in, but they were honest. If I had questions they let me ask them no matter how many times they had to answer the same questions. Lily is young now, but she is five years old. What will Mr. Suh do when she realizes that her father can’t keep telling her that mommy is in the hospital and him not taking her to see her once. She’s going to realize that.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your family,” Mr. Jeong looks at you bewildered. “I understand your point, but she’s his daughter.”
Mr. Jeong was right. Neither he or you or anyone else had the right to tell Mr. Suh how to raise his own child. He knows what’s best for her. If he thinks she’s still too young to understand it is in her best interest to keep things a secret. Plus, his wife may one day come back into her life. It probably is better for her to be left in the dark for now.
“Do you believe she’ll ever come back?”
“I hope she doesn’t. He’s my best friend. I watched a man who was living out his dream life with the woman he loves come crashing down to earth without a parachute. All because of her selfishness. So, no. I don’t want her back. She’ll only hurt him and leave him again when things get tough.”
“Being a wife and mother was too much for her?”
“No one knows. She never talked to anyone at all about what she was going through. Not even Johnny.”
“Do you think Lily would like some flowers and chocolates then?” A smile comes to your face. “I have been borrowing her dad for the past three weeks. I feel terrible for taking up so much of his time.”
Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Jeong smiles sweetly. Dimples on full view, eyes sparkling with something you can’t quite pinpoint. “I think she would love that.”
“Okay. I’ll be sure to head out and get some goodies for her before I go over to his house today. Now, about my grades…”
When lunch came around you sent a photo of your grade with a text saying that Mr. Jeong was very proud of you. Putting your phone up to charge you head off to take a small nap before you go out and look for some flowers and chocolates for Lily, and even something for Mr. Suh to show your appreciation.
Now knowing why you haven’t seen his wife you can’t help but wonder why she left in the first place. Their home is beautiful, Lily from the small glances you’ve seen of her before she scurries away — apparently still cautious of you, is a lovely child and she’s cute as a button! Mr. Suh is, well, delectable, so why did she leave?
Trying not to dwell too much on Mrs. Suh’s absence, you head off to dreamland hoping to get some rest before another grueling day of studying. But, instead of getting a decent rest, your brain apparently concocted a very intense and wet dream. Starring none other than Mr. Suh.
It started out like a normal tutoring session. You were trying your best to solve a problem, but kept messing up. Mr. Suh in his usual lounge wear, a loose fitted shirt — exposing just enough of his chest to have you drooling, leans over to you giving you a chance to be wrapped in the heavenly aroma of his cologne. As he helps you to solve the problem you can feel his breath tickling your neck. His lips feel so close that you swear he presses them against your skin, but he never laid a hand on you.
Once he was finished explaining he waited patiently until you finished. Eyes watching you carefully, roaming up and down your face when you meet his gaze. His irises seemed darker, pupils dilated, and mouth ajar as he bit his pen gently between his beautiful white teeth.
Feeling shy you get back to your work when a hand on your thigh makes you look up, only to meet Mr. Suh’s lips. A whimper escapes you. His large strong hands cupping your face keeping you close to him. Lips smacking against each other’s, you melted into the kiss and his touch. One hand traveling down your body until it reaches your waist. Gripping you tightly he pulls you over to him. Half your body dangling over his lap.
“Sit on my lap.” He tells you between kisses. “I want to feel you on top of me.”
As you clammer to your feet going to straddle him your alarm blared loudly before you had a chance to finish the dream. Sitting up in your bed, body sticky with sweat, you opt to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes. A nice cold shower should get your mind out of the gutter.
Once fully dried and and no longer thinking of fucking your tutor, you change into a pair of distressed blue denim jeans and a loose gray hoodie before grabbing your phone, keys, purse, and backpack to head out and get Lily and Mr. Suh something special. On your way out your door you hear a ding from your phone.
Great job!
I’m so proud of you and I hope you’re proud of yourself too!
I’m thinking something special should be done to commemorate this momentous occasion.
We’ll need to think of something together.
See you later.
J. Suh
You can’t help the bright smile spreading across your face as you merrily skip down the hallway to the staircase. Feeling like you just won the lottery you truly feel proud of yourself. Both Mr. Suh and Mr. Jeong, praising you for your efforts. There was no doubt in your mind. You have to find something nice to thank Mr. Suh for everything that he’s done.
Thanks to Mr. Jeong you knew which kind of chocolates to get Lily and what kind of flowers were her favorite. The Best Uncle of the Year, his words exactly, coming in handy with loads of information. It didn’t take long to shop around for Lily, but what the Best Friend of the Year, another term he boldly stated, didn’t do was help you with Mr. Suh. Stating clearly, ‘he’ll be appreciative of anything you get him.’
So, you decided to get him some flowers too, a small assortment, and some chocolates of his very own. Fancier chocolates that your parents love to nibble on every now and then. Men like chocolate too, you assert in your mind.
Driving over to Mr. Suh’s you can’t help but feel antsy. Feeling nervous about interacting with Lily makes your stomach churn painfully. She’s made sure to keep her distance from you. Eyeing you skeptically whenever she does grace you with her presence. Time and time again, Mr. Suh tries to get her to say hi to you properly but to no avail.
This doesn’t help solidify your dream job of being an Elementary teacher. Especially when an Elementary school aged child wants nothing to do with you.
Pulling up to Mr. Suh’s house you see his car in the driveway. Your heart starts beating faster as you gather everything — putting your purse safely in the trunk since you won’t be needing it inside his house. Trying your best to hold the two small bouquets, you duck walk up to the front door. Before you can even ring the bell, Mr. Suh opens it with a bright smile on his face.
“Welcom—” he stops staring at you. “What in the world…”
“Uh, I uh,” you fiddangle the bouquets holding the one out for him. “I wanted to say thank you for helping me. Without your help I would never have gotten that C and I would probably be swimming in a sea of failure rethinking my life choices and career right now. So, I uh, just got these to say thank you. Ummm.. th-thank you!”
Blinking, he bounces from your face then to the flowers. Not making any attempt at reaching for them. Just like on the first day, a single strand of sweat trickles down the side of your face. This was a terrible idea. A card would have sufficed. A thank you for tolerating my dumbass for the past three weeks card and maybe a gift card to a restaurant. But no, you didn’t think of that.
Lowering the bouquet you turn in the direction of the trash can that was sitting out by the curb for tomorrow. “Th-This was stupid, huh?” Your face starts burning up. “I-I’ll just dispose of these.”
Turning around you head down the two steps to the pathway leading down to the driveway. Halfway down the path you're whipped around and wrapped in a tight hug. The flowers becoming squished in the process. Looking up at the person engulfing you in a constrictor hug you find Mr. Suh. Becoming stiff as a statue you glance around wondering if this is your mind playing tricks on you or if it is indeed real. After that dream you had this surely couldn’t be real.
“Don’t throw them out,” he whispers, holding you even tighter.
“O-Okay,” you murmur, body starting to relax. “S-So you like them?”
Chuckling he pulls away from you enough to look down into your eyes. “I love them. It was very thoughtful of you.”
Managing to shove them higher you put on a bright smile. “Well, then these are for you Mr. Suh! I also bought you some chocolates. My mom and dad like these. I always get it for them for their anni —” you stop yourself. “Sp-Special occasions. Or when I want something from them.” You turn your almost blunder into a joke. “I also have some flowers and chocolates for Lily. Mr. Jeong told me what her favorites are.”
Again you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. Mr. Suh’s body hunching over until his face is buried in your neck. “Thank you,” he pulls you close to him. “Thank you.”
Proud of yourself for the second time today you wrap your arms around your tutor. How long has it been since someone other than family or Mr. Jeong showed him kindness? How long has it been since they thought to do something for him and his daughter? Hearing a sniff your ears perk up.
“Mr. Suh?”
Stepping away from you he quickly wipes his eyes. “Ahh, that’s embarrassing,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just been a while.”
“Daddy?” A small voice comes from the door. “Daddy!”
“What is it sweetheart?” He quickly leaves your side rushing over to Lily.
Taking in a huge breath holding it in as you make your approach to the Princess of the mansion. You get down on your haunches and show her the bouquet of flowers.
“Hi Lily, we haven’t really met each other yet.” She goes behind Mr. Suh looking around his legs at you. Introducing yourself, you reach out the flowers towards her. “A little birdie told me that your favorite flowers are Tiger Lilies. Is this true?”
The moment she looks down at the flowers her little eyes light up. Slowly letting go of Mr. Suh’s legs, she comes in front of you. Looking up at her dad he laughs happily.
“They’re for you, sweetheart,” he pats her head.
Reaching out she takes the bouquet smelling each flower her tiny nose can reach. “I love these,” she wraps her arms around the flowers.
“I also heard you like Snickers,” you pull out some candy for her.
Again her eyes light up. “I love them too!!” She squeals while taking the chocolate. “Daddy look!”
“I see. Now what do we say when we receive a gift?”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.”
“Go on inside and we’ll put these flowers in some water,” he shoos Lily inside.
“Okay!”
Running off she leaves the two of you alone. Standing back up, you can’t help but smile lovingly at the little girl. She really is cute.
“Thank you for this,” Mr. Suh calls you to attention. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a while. It really means a lot to me.”
“Well, I just figured I should surprise her and give her something because I am borrowing her dad. I know you’d rather spend your time with your daughter and relaxing after work, but because of me you can’t do that for a while.”
“It’s not all bad,” he walks into his home and you follow. “Having you around these last three weeks has been fun.”
“Liar.”
Mr. Suh lets out a hardy laugh while you both head into the kitchen. Sitting your bag down at the table like usual you watch him and his daughter put the flowers you gave them in some water. Then, Mr. Suh giving Lily some of her candy you brought her. But what shocked you is when she came running up to you with her arms open wide.
“I love my presents! Thank you!” She hugs you. Stunned you barely have time to hug her back before she lets you go running off to play.
“Wow…” you look back at Mr. Suh. “I thought she hated me.”
“No way! She’s been curious about you. She asks me questions most nights before she goes to sleep.”
“She does?” Shocked, you stare in the direction she left in.
“Yes,” Mr. Suh sits down with a cup of coffee and he ever so politely brings you one as well. “She’s very cautious. We don’t have many visitors. Most of the family is a good distance away from us.” He takes a sip, his body relaxing. “The only time we see them is during the holiday’s. Shame really. She has cousins around her age but she barely gets to spend time with them.”
“Have you ever thought of moving?”
What the hell are you saying?! You curse yourself.
“I have but this is the only home she knows. Plus,” he fiddles with his wedding band. “I’m still holding out for something.”
Staring down at his ringed finger fire burns inside of you. How can a woman be so selfish to leave the man she loved hanging by a thread? If she wanted to leave, okay. But you just don’t up and leave and never come back and don’t officially break things off! That is cowardly and selfish!
“Anytime Lily wants to hang out, I’m available,” you try to bring the subject back to something lighter. “I think as long as I give her candy I’ll be on her good side, right?”
“Bribery, already?” He looks stunned. “You’re not even a teacher yet and you’re resorting to such tactics.”
Stunned, you stare at him with wide eyes. “A-A teacher? How did you know?”
“Jaehyun. The course he’s teaching is for Education majors, is it not?”
“Right,” you scratch the back of your neck. “Forgot about that. Oh! Mr. Jeong said he may owe you one or two beers for helping me. Make sure he keeps that promise!”
Pulling out your holy binder of math, you get things ready for today's lesson.
“Actually,” Mr. Suh places his hand on top of yours. “Why don’t we skip today’s lesson? We should celebrate your accomplishment.”
“Accomplishment? I got a C-, that means ‘C better luck next time.’”
Laughing, Mr. Suh shakes his head. “Well I see it as ‘C, she can be taught.’ So, listen to your tutor. We’re taking a break today.”
“A break...” You nod sitting back in the chair. “O-Oh! A break! I’m sorry! You probably have something planned for Lily!” Quickly you start packing your backpack. “I’m sorry, I should have read between the lines. I’ll hurry up so you two can spend the evening together.”
“Stop!” Mr. Suh’s voice booms in your ears, startling you. “Like I said earlier, we need to celebrate your accomplishment.” Standing up, he starts to walk away. “Come, follow me.”
Gulping, your palms turning sweaty you ring them on your jeans before standing up. Mr. Suh leads you back into the living room and this time you have a chance to really look around. Everything was immaculate. White carpet with white furniture. A black stoned fireplace. A large flat screen tv sitting above it. A few plants in the corners of the room and a couple on the coffee table and end tables. Something you would see out of a magazine. Not really a homey touch. Something that seems to fit his style more so than a style that suits a home with a little girl.
Leaving the living room you’re taken down a corridor to a room where he opens the door with a key. Placing the key back into his pocket your heart starts to beat faster. What in the world could he be hiding? A room that needs to be locked! Thinking back on the movie Fifty Shades of Grey you slowly start to back away. Afraid that Mr. Suh has some weird fetish that he’s about to unleash on you — however, you’re taken aback when the room turns out to be a normal study.
Slumping forward your heart slows down. Thank goodness…
“It’ll just be a small glass,” he holds the door open for you. “I thought we could celebrate with some wine. You’re old enough to drink, right?”
Glaring you turn to his direction. “I’ve been able to drink for a while now, Mr. Suh. Do I really look that young?”
Chuckling he goes into a cabinet taking out two wine glasses. “You do actually. You still have that ‘the world is my oyster’ glow about you. Go on, pick one.”
“I don’t know wines. I know beer but not wine.”
Snorting he shakes his head. “College days,” he grabs a bottle of red wine pouring you a smaller glass than himself. “You’ll learn when you’re older.”
“You’re not that much older, Mr. Suh. And yet you speak like you’re well into your forties.”
Sitting down on the couch in his study he lets out a huge tired sigh. “Some days it feels like I’m pushing fifty.”
Joining him at the opposite end making sure you don’t intrude on his space you take a small sip. The taste making you cringe slightly but it was smoothe going down. The last wine you had was like drinking tanbark — woody with a dryness of a desert. This held a tinge of sweetness.
“What’s it like to be a dad?”
“Pardon?” He looks at you surprised.
“Sorry for the sudden question,” you giggle realizing it was really an out of the blue question. “I just mean, Lily is awfully cute. I don’t have any friends who are already parents. I know personally I want three kids one day. A boy, a girl, and then to adopt or foster a child. That’s been my goal since I was a kid. Perhaps I should have asked, what’s it like to be a parent?”
“Hard.” He stirs the liquid in his glass. “People who don’t have children see the good and bad moments. When the child is well behaved or is so cute you can’t help but fall in love. You want a child right then and there. Vow to the world and everyone around you that you want a houseful of them.
“Then, there are times when no matter what, you can’t get your kid to stop crying. Or, they misbehave and you don’t know what to do and how to correct the behavior. They scream and throw things and have tantrums in public and it’s embarrassing. People blame the parents right away saying they need to do better. That’s the hard part. People assume you’re not doing a good job but you’re doing the best you can. What works with one child doesn’t work with the other. You can’t use blueprints for a museum to build a shed.
“So you need to rethink your game plan and just when you think you have everything figured out, BOOM!” He shouts startling you. “Your kid changes the game. But I wouldn’t want to think of a world where Lily isn’t in it. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. She’ll always be the best thing that’s happened to me. She’s taught me how to love someone unconditionally. To know that if she is in trouble I will willingly throw my life away to protect her. The moment I held her in my arms for the first time was the moment I knew I would and will die for her.”
“Wow…that was…beautiful.”
Mr. Suh turns to you to see you looking at him in awe. Snickering he takes a sip of his wine, a light flush coming to his cheeks. “You’ll know how it feels when you become a mother.”
“I hope I will. And what about being a teacher?”
Smirking, he slides down on the couch. “The first year is hard. The second year is still hard but you sort of know what to expect. By your third year you’ll be a pro. It’s a job that not everyone can do but those who do it know how amazing it truly is. Oh, a piece of advice — keep your lesson plans for five years at a time. That’s what one of my professors told me. After five years redo them. That way it’s one less thing you have to worry about. Creating lesson plans is a pain, so anyway you can relieve that will always be beneficial for you.” Nodding you keep this tidbit of advice locked in your memory. “Pray tell, why did you choose the teaching profession?”
Shrugging you take a sip of your wine. “I’ve always loved school. I like being in school and learning. I would help out any chance I could get. I was even able to leave and help out the other school staff since I got done with my work quickly. When I was in High School a couple teachers said I’d make the perfect teacher so I listened to them and here I am. Failing miserably…”
“You’re not failing miserably. You’re just failing right now.”
You roll your eyes. “Geez…thanks, Mr. Suh.”
Laughing he places his glass on the end table closest to him before shifting closer to you. “From now on you can call me Johnny.”
“You too? Man you and Mr. Jeong really are cut from the same cloth.”
“What about Jaehyun?”
“He wanted me to call him by his first name too. I mean yeah I’ve spoken to him a few times because of this whole tutoring thing but not enough to feel comfortable calling him by his first name. Plus, it would cross the lines of the student teacher dynamic.”
“Maybe he wants you to feel comfortable around him.” Mr. Suh peers down at you.
Snorting, you take another small sip of your wine. “If he wants me to feel comfortable he needs to stop making everywhere he goes look like he’s on a runway.”
Cracking up Mr. Suh places a hand on your knee to hold himself up. The small gesture making your body numb with hope that he won’t remove his hand too soon. Visions of your dream springing to life in your mind. How he wanted you to sit on his lap. How you were seconds from kissing him. Gulping you see him wiping his eyes.
“So he still hasn’t broken that habit?”
“Habit?”
“Back when we were in college, Jaehyun was the ‘it boy,’ on campus. All the girls wanted him. It was crazy. He never paid them any mind but he was aware of the magnetism he held. He started running a hand through his hair and would hear girls screaming their heads off. He’d bite his lip, smirk, and show his dimples — all to give them just a taste of attention, but he would never go further than that.”
Leaning closer to Mr. Suh you ask him a question you never thought you’d ask. “Is Mr. Jeong…you know…into guys?”
Staring flabbergasted, Mr. Suh pushes your forehead back with his index finger. “I would never bring up men around Jaehyun again. No. Believe me. He has no interest in men.” Mr. Suh looks you up and down for a second before chugging the rest of his wine. “Trust me.”
“Sorry if I was offensive. It’s just the way you were talking made it seem like he was teasing people because he knew they would never have his heart.”
“That’s exactly what he did. But not because he’s gay. Jaehyun,” he sighs. “He’s a strange man. One second he seems head over heels for someone, the next, he’s flirting with someone else. I think the prospect of settling down with someone scares him. So he gives them an inch and hopes they don’t take a mile. But they always do and he leaves them.”
“So, Mr. Jeong is scared to be in a relationship?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Wow, I feel bad for him.”
Chuckling, Mr. Suh sits back intrigued. “Since we’re talking openly for once. What about you, my dear student? Any boys you’re interested in? Or should I ask about girls too?” He winks.
“Guys. That’s it for me.” Your face starts to warm. “There is one person…” you fiddle with your fingers. “They’re super smart, handsome, kind, and I don’t know…I just love being around them. I still have a lot to learn but I’m hoping one day I’ll be given the chance to get to know them better.”
“Anyone I know?” He nudges you, winking.
“E-Eh?!”
Fear quickens your heartbeat. You tried to be as vague as humanly possible. There is no way that he can tell you’re talking about him. Handsome, smart, kind — qualities that can describe half of the world! No way in hell could he narrow it down to himself.
“Come now, you can tell me. It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”
“Wh-What?!” You squeak.
“Everyone falls for him. It’s a natural thing. No need to be shy about it.”
“Mr. Suh, really I —”
“Johnny.” He corrects.
“J-John…Mr. Suh!”
“Come on, it’s not that hard. John…ny…” he says his name slowly.
“I’m not an imbecile!” You put down your glass. “And I don’t have feelings for Mr. Jeong! The person I was talking about was you —” freezing you try to come up with a different response. “You…you’ll never know! A woman’s heart is a land of mystery. It’s a secret!”
Mr. Suh stares at you. Eyes scanning over your features. Hoping that your trembling body won’t catch his attention. How could you have been so stupid? You are an imbecile! You almost let it slip that you have feelings for your tutor! Hell you don’t even know what kind of feelings you have for him. Lust? Hell yeah. Infatuation? Definitely! Pity? Only for Lily. Like? S-Sure...
Turning away from his gaze you wipe your hands on your jeans. “I’m sorry for shouting. You’ve been kind to me this entire time. I owe everything to you. I just got…defensive…”
“No. I should apologize. I didn’t intend to press you to that point. But I have to ask,” he moves closer to you, his hand gently resting under your chin. Turning your head to face him he stares deep into your eyes. “Is this secret person…me?”
Sitting in the passenger seat you stare out the window. Mr. Suh sent you a message on Friday that stated Lily was sick and he needed to take care of her so tutoring was off, but to come on Saturday, today, which you’re not particularly excited for. The unbeknownst blessing of not having lessons yesterday was that your car was in the shop and there was no one to take you to your lesson.
Granted, the garage still hasn't looked at your car yet, promising to have it done by tomorrow around lunch — Doyoung has offered to drive you to Mr. Suh’s since Jen has practice. Sighing, you rest your head against the window.
“What’s up with you? Thought this tutor of yours was helping you.”
“He is. I actually got a passing grade last time.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Have you ever met someone that you’ve instantly liked? You may not know them but there is this undying attraction to them?”
“He’s hot isn't he?” Doyoung snickers.
“Yes. Like just my type. He’s tall, muscular but not overly buff, he has the cutest lips. Like they remind me of a cat and he’s gentle and sweet. You should see him with his daughter and —”
“Hold up!” Doyoung slows down at the red light before glancing your way. “He’s a dad?”
“Yeah. His daughter's name is Lily and she’s so cute!”
“No.”
“No?”
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”
“What if I’m not thinking about anything?”
“I’ve known you our whole lives. You don’t just randomly bring up the topic of liking someone without reason. If he has a child he isn’t someone you need to worry about.”
“Why not?”
“He needs to focus on raising his kid, not getting his dick wet.” He says bluntly.
Turning to him, shocked by his choice of words Doyoung just shrugs as he proceeds forward. “Did you have to say that?!”
“You’re blushing aren’t you? How many dreams have you had about fucking him?”
“None!” You shriek but then start mumbling. “I always wake up before the good stuff.”
“Why would you put yourself through this? He’s a father. He’s your tutor. Once the semester is done and over with you won’t see him again. He’s older and you’re still in college. Why?”
“Because…because…” you sigh, turning back to the window. “I don’t know.”
“Does he know?”
Groaning, you bang your head against the window, “yeah...”
“How did he find out?”
Staring out into the traffic you drift back to that evening in Mr. Suh’s study…
‘Turning your head to face him he stares deep into your eyes. “Is this secret person…me?’
“Wh-What?! Mr. Suh…” you turn from him, your face growing warmer. “Wh-What makes you ask that kind of question? You’re my tutor…”
“Because on the first day you clearly told someone you thought I was hot.” He says matter of factly.
“Eh?! S-S-So you did look at my phone!”
“I had to look at it to turn it off. And yes, the message in very large print clearly stated that your friend wanted a picture.”
“Sh-She was just joking! I swear! She’s very blunt.”
“So the message you sent was in regards to me being hot?” He quirks a brow.
“No! I mean…yes…I mean…”
Moving away from you Mr. Suh runs a hand through his hair. “It’s best for you not to like me.”
Feeling a sharp pain hit your heart you look at him as if someone told you your dog passed away. Bewildered. Heartbroken. “Wh-Why?” You attempt to ask firmly but the quivering in your jaw prevents you.
Chuckling he crosses his long legs. Arms settling across his chest. “I’m married.” He holds up his ring finger. “No point in crushing on a married man. Plus, I have a child. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with a small infatuation.”
A small infatuation?! Glaring at him he looks completely disinterested in your unwilling confession. What you feel is not a small infatuation! It’s not puppy love or displaced affection! And for him to sit here nonchalantly like your presence annoys him…you could just…just…
Pushing yourself to your feet you march in front of him. He’s married? Ha! If only he knew that you knew his wife left not only him but his daughter. Over her, he’s still holding onto some kind of hope! Why would he do that?! She left him! She’s gone, most likely never to come back! Holding on to hope will only hurt him in the end and Lily! And his daughter…so what?! All of this is a means of deflecting!
“It’s not a small infatuation. I’m not a teenager. I know what and how I am feeling. Yes, I sent a text message to my friend saying that you were hot. If you haven’t noticed at all, you’re incredibly hot! The hottest man I’ve ever seen! Not once did I feel any amount of attraction to anyone I’ve been in school with, that is until you came along! Do you think I wanted to have a crush on my tutor? Do you know how hard it is to focus sometimes?
“Also, I clearly noted the wedding ring on your finger. But I’m also aware that —” you pause. “I’m…” Calm down…breathe… Taking a huge inhale you let the air fill your lungs. Simmering down the anger that was building up inside you. “I’m also aware that just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings for someone else. Sadly we’re not a species that has only one love for the rest of our life. I believe only a couple of species on the planet are like that.”
“So what do you suggest?” Mr. Suh reaches up grabbing your wrists. “You want me to cheat on my wife?” He yanks you down. Your body falling on top of his. “Is that what you want me to do?” He grabs your legs and easily moves you so you’re straddling his lap.
“Wh-What are you doing?” You try to move away from him but he holds you firmly in his arms.
Pressing his lips against your ear — unfortunately sending shivers down your spine and a spark of fire to your core he firmly states, “answer the question.”
“N-No…”
“No, you don’t want to answer the question or no, you don’t want me to cheat?”
“Both!”
Arms falling to the couch he allows you to crawl off of him. Moving as far away from him as possible you wait until your heart calms down. The moment you waited for. The moment you’ve fantasized about did not pan out how you truly wanted it to. You were mere seconds from telling him you knew about his wife. The only way you could have known is from Mr. Jeong, and by no means we’re you going to get him in trouble.
“I think I should go.” You get up heading for the door. “Forget I even mentioned anything.”
“Wait!” Stopping as your feet barely cross over the threshold you glance over your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Mr. Suh apologizes with his head low to his chest. “I-I didn’t mean…”
“Wh-What?” You turn completely to look at him. Hands interlaced together tightly. Knuckles turning white as snow. His hair hanging over his eyes making him look more apologetic. More ashamed… “M-Mr. Suh?” You call gently.
His hands unclasp, one reaching up to wipe his eyes. Without thinking you spring over to him. Startling him as you push his shoulders back until they’re resting on the back of the couch — eyes red and tear stained. Straddling his lap you plant a gentle kiss on his lips. His body freezes beneath you but you pay it no mind. This is what you’ve wanted. To feel what it would be like to kiss him. To feel his body pressed against yours.
Leaving soft comforting kiss after kiss, his hands find purchase on your waist. Slowly he starts to kiss you back. His lips moving along with yours tentatively. Unsure and if this is right. But when a groan coming from the back of his throat pierces your ears you kiss him deeper. Opening your mouth for his tongue to enter.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to grow steamy. Your body burning up from the inside out. Stomach churning to the sounds coming from your tutor. Low growls that tell you he’s holding back with all his might. Wanting to feel all of him you take matters into your own hands. As his tongue slips into your mouth you quickly wrap your lips around it, sucking on the wet slippery muscle. Giving him a taste of what it would be like on another part of his body. His hands grip your waist tightly. Eyes closed shut. Brows furrowed while you work your magic. His face, his expressions, the noises he’s making driving you forward to do more. Much much more.
With one final loud suck of his tongue you pull back. Chest heaving heavily you attack his neck. Biting, nipping, kissing and sucking on the taught flesh. Grazing your tongue across his Adam’s apple has him pushing you onto your back. Now hovering over you he stares down at you with wild eyes. Pupils dilated and filled with lust.
“Kiss me, please…” you beg for him with your arms wide open.
Gulping loudly Mr. Suh lowers himself to you. His chest sliding up yours making you squirm beneath him. His lips skate over yours, a whisper of a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Whimper after whimper comes from you. Never before have you been this desperate to feel someone’s lips on yours. To feel their body on top of you — pressing you into a couch until you can’t escape.
“You’re so beauti —”
“Daddy!!” Lily calls out for him. “Daddy!!”
In a matter of seconds Mr. Suh is off of you. Back pressed against the arm of the couch from the opposite end. Hair mused. Chest rising and falling rapidly and a rather noticeable…you look away from his lap.
“Y-You need to leave!” He scrambles to his feet.
“Daddy!” Lily cries out.
“Coming!” He says frantically.
“Mr. Suh, I…”
“Just leave!” He shouts before leaving his study in a hurry. “Lily! Sweetheart, what’s wrong?!”
“He saw a text I sent to Jen about him being hot. Didn’t take much to know I was into him,” you tell Doyoung leaving out the sorted details.
“What are you going to do?”
“I would run away and avoid him but I kind of need his help in order to pass.” Turning to your friend with a somber face you try your best to smile but a single tear slides down your cheek. “So I’m going to pass and put him behind me after this semester.”
Reaching over, Doyoung places his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, kid.”
“Me too.” You wipe your eye.
Within five minutes you were in front of Mr. Suh’s house. Doyoung whistling the moment he sees the place. Asking if you wanted him to walk you to the door for extra support you declined the offer. Telling him to be here at 6PM or at least to have his cell on hand if you should need to call him for an earlier pick up, he reassures you that he’ll be close by.
As you make your way up to the house Doyoung calls your name. Turning to look back you’re engulfed in his arms. “I know this is going to be hard but please stay strong, okay?” He asks you.
Nodding and giving into the sweetest, softest hug known to mankind you melt into him. “I will.”
“If you need ANYTHING, call me or text me. I’ll be over here ASAP. Got it?”
“Mmm…” you nod.
“See you soon.”
“See you soon, and thank you!” You shout, waving your hand.
Waving back, Doyoung gets into his car and drives off down the road. Turning back to the house you find Mr. Suh at the door. Eyes dark and unreadable. Walking up to him his aura is different. Then again, the hot makeout session the other day could be the reason.
“You’re late.” He says as you pass by him.
“I needed a ride. Sorry.” You head straight for the kitchen. “Oh. Before I forget.” You pull out a small bag with some chicken noodle soup in it and orange juice. “For Lily.”
“She’s fine.” He brushes past you without taking the bag.
“I see.” Leaving the bag on the counter near the kitchen sink you take your seat. “I’ve already done the homework.” You take out your binder.
“Hand it to me.”
Doing as instructed you wait for Mr. Suh to check your work. His hand scribbles down where you’ve made mistakes. Of course there were mistakes. You haven’t been able to get the kiss you had with him out of your mind. Even in your sleep you feel his lips and hands on you. Taking out your textbook you open up to the chapter Mr. Jeong went over yesterday to distract yourself.
“What is this mess?” Mr. Suh breaks you out of your thoughts. “This!” He shoves your homework up to your face where all you see are red markings. “This is unacceptable!”
“Sorry.” You look down.
“What happened? You should have been able to get past this with flying colors?” Shrugging you avoid looking at him. “Answer me!”
“I don’t know what happened!”
“Did you double check your work? Did you read the questions carefully?!”
“I thought I did.”
“Well thinking wasn’t on your side now was it?!” He snarls.
“Look!” You shout. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get them all wrong! I’m sorry I’m too stupid to understand this! Why do I need to learn this anyway?! I want to teach Kindergarten! I want to have fun and watch them learn their alphabet and numbers. Why do I need to learn all this other stuff?!” Tears start pouring down your face.
“Because you don’t know what grade you will be assigned to! That’s why! So enough with the tears and pay attention!”
“Why are you being so mean?” You sniff.
He goes quiet, his body rigged. Ever since you walked up to him he’s been a real asshole for no reason at all. Yes, you got questions wrong — knowing it’s only because the kiss that you can’t get out of your mind being the main culprit behind the insurmountable amount of red ink on your homework. But this, this behavior because you got answers wrong is not that the Johnny… Mr. Suh, that you know.
Turning his head from you he lets out a huge exhale. “Because being nice to you ended up with us…” he stops himself before proceeding with the real reason he’s in a shitty mood.
“So that constitutes you being mean to me instead?!” Taking out your phone which you had on mute you start to type out an S.O.S to Doyoung.
“No phones!” He grabs your phone. “I told you this already. Are you having a hard time following simple rules?!”
“I was telling my friend to pick me up! Give me my phone!”
“What?! I cleared my schedule to help you and you’re going to leave? You’re here to learn so that’s what you’re going to do. Now sit down and listen to me young lady!”
“No! You’re not my father and you’re not my teacher!” You challenge by packing up your belongings.
“I said sit down!” He stands up his body looming over you threateningly.
“No!” You tremble in rage. “Give me my phone…back!!”
“So you can contact that boyfriend of yours?”
Your arms fly from your sides exasperated. “Boyfriend?!”
“Yes. The boy glaring daggers at me!”
“Glare? What glare?! Are you talking about Doyoung?! He’s my best friend. I’ve known him my whole life! W-Wait…are you…jealous?!”
Quickly Mr. Suh’s demeanor changes from hostile tutor to blubbering idiot. “J-Jealous?! Wh-What?! That’s absurd!”
“If you’re not jealous you’ll give me back my phone,” you hold out your hand.
“I’m not jealous and you’re not getting your phone back. You’re here to learn!”
“Give me my phone!”
“No! Now sit down.” Ignoring his order you zip up your now full again backpack and hurl it over your shoulders. “Wh-What are you doing?!”
“Leaving.”
“You can’t leave!”
“I’m my own person. I’m free to go wherever I please.”
“If you leave I won’t tutor you anymore!” He threatens.
“Fine with me.” You continue to pack your things.
“Y-You’ll fail!”
“Guess I will.”
“You can’t be serious.” You ignore him as you head out of the kitchen. “Y-Yah!!” He chases after you. “Are you stupid?!”
“Already told you I was the first day we met.”
“Stop this!” He grabs your wrist. Halting in front of him you don’t bother turning around. “Fine. Take it.” He growls, placing your phone in your hand. “There. Now will you stay?”
“No.” You click send and head to the front door.
“What?! I gave you back your phone!”
“So?” You smirk. “You think that means that I’ll stay here? I’m not going to deal with someone who has an attitude problem. It doesn’t help me at all.”
“I don’t have an attitude problem.”
“Uh, yeah, you do.”
“I don’t!”
“From the moment I walked inside you’ve been cross with me. Why? Is it because we kissed the other day? Is it because Lily is sick and you’re tired? Or is it because you saw me hugging someone else?” Mr. Suh looks away from you the moment you mention the hug. Shocked, you cross your arms over your chest. “No way,” you chuckle. “Don’t tell me that Mr. Suh has a wittle crush,” you say in a baby voice. “Wouldn’t that be something? Especially after all that bullshit about it being bad for me to like you.”
“Stop.” His fists clench at his sides, his body trembling as he glares at you.
“What? Is it because I’m right? Did you fall for me when I kissed you?” You press.
“I said stop!”
“Come now, do share with the class how you’re feeling,” you spread your arms open as if you’re talking to more than just Mr. Suh. Seething with rage, you peer up at him through your lashes. “Come now, Johnny.”
A sharp pain strikes down your spine as your back makes contact with the wall closest to the door — a tiny alcove just barely big enough for you to nestle into you, no escape in sight. You gasp for air as strong hands grip both your waist and your neck, making sure that you don’t get away. Lips crash down onto yours with such force you’re sure the metallic taste in your mouth is your own blood. Teeth crash into teeth, the grip on your waist tightens — eyes getting blurry with tears as your air supply starts to run low.
Pulling back for a seconds, Mr. Suh takes in a breath allowing you to breathe as well, only for his lips to crash down onto yours again. This kiss was anything but gentle. It’s rough and raw like he’s trying to devour your soul one kiss at a time. Stomach swirling like a tornado when he growls against your lips, a beast waiting to devour it’s prey — your knees almost give out from the hottest guttural groan you’ve ever heard a man make in your life, your thighs clenching together.
“You’re such a brat,” he grips your waist tighter leaving out a shaky breath.
Mr. Suh’s grip on your neck loosens as his body presses against yours, the feeling of his arousal already present. Gasping, your arms wrap around his neck drawing him closer to you. His tongue skates across your lips, begging for entrance. Parting your lips, his tongue swirls around yours fighting for dominance, which you gladly complied — mind already turning to mush at the slightest touch and kiss he presses against you.
Pulling back he leaves you with a single peck on your lips as both of your chests rapidly heave — your breath mixing with his, unknown feelings blending in with each other’s.
“I-I think you need to be taught some manners.” He says breathlessly.
“I-I’m sorry…” you plead while your mind races for what might come if he does in fact punish you.
He snickers, his eyes cloudy and hooded, a lusftul sinister look plastered on his face. “Liar.” He squeezes your neck tighter, his eyes starting to close.
“Pl-Please…c-can’t…breathe…”
Laughing he grips your neck even harder — still not tight enough to do any real damage, but your breath still feels staggered each breath you take in. “Good!” He hisses and trails his lips over your cheek before he kisses the corner of your mouth. “You dare to argue with me in my own home then proceed to tease me!” His grip on your waist tightens while he pulls you into him, your bodies flush against each other’s. “You insolent brat!”
Kissing you again the little air you were able to breathe is taken from you. Your body growing limp in his hold. Your mind lost to the lust that’s blazing through you like a rocket. It’s embers striking every nerve in your body — the slightest touch of his lips to yours makes you whimper, the grip of his hand on your waist growing tighter till it feels as if he’ll leave impressions has you shivering. Your lips move along with his desperately, waiting to be consumed by him to have your whole existence wrecked by a single glance from him. Whatever he wants to do to you, you’ll gladly comply. A slave to his touch you become engulfed by him.
Like a switch going off, Mr. Suh rips you from the wall by your neck and you’re free from him. “I will never be jealous,” he rolls his neck, eyes growing dark with hunger each step he takes towards you. “That little twerp can have you only when I’m done with you.”
The powerful wolf and the meek rabbit you back away from, your hands raised in both defense and to placate him. “I-I don’t want him…”
Smirking, he continues to stalk towards you your body getting closer and closer to the couch. “Why is that?”
Your heels smack against the bottom of the couch. Trapped again you can’t go anywhere else without him catching you easily. Your body trembles, your skin covered in goosebumps. “I want you!” You say desperately reaching out to him. “Only you.”
Pushing you down onto the couch, Johnny wastes no time at all. Towering over you, his eyes so dark and full of feral lust mirroring your own, his gaze washes over you inch by inch. Stopping at your breasts, you involuntarily take a deep breath in — causing your chest to rise and Johnny’s bottom lip to be sucked between his teeth. His eyes travel lower to your stomach and then pauses for what seems like an eternity — your pelvis, his gaze lingers as sinful thoughts reel through your mind.
What it would be like to have his tongue skate over your wet folds. What it would be like to have his fingers ramming inside of you, and the second most sinful thought of all — his dick pummeling into you without a second thought to your wellbeing.
Possessed by desire, your legs start to spread apart, a subconscious invitation for him to come closer. To merge his body with your own. On cue, he moves forward just as your legs spread far enough for him to fit between them. One of his hands props his body up while the other touches your cheek gingerly. Your eyes start to close as you give into the soft caress. When his thumb passes over your lips you give it a small kiss.
“Why did you have to do this to me?”
“Why did you have to do this to me, Mr. Suh?” You throw the question back at him. It wasn’t just him that is under a spell, but yourself as well.
Ever since you first saw him you wanted to know him, to be a part of his life. Cupid’s arrow didn’t just get you — it flew straight into your mind and scrambled your brain. The moment you saw him playing outside with his daughter, the smile on his face; the carefree aura that surrounded him sent you soaring. Entranced the moment your eyes fell on him you’ve wondered how haven’t jumped him yet.
Leaning into his touch you turn your head kissing the palm of his hand, a faint sent of lotion and soap fill your head; with a splash of your perfume. Your lips travel to his wrist and down his arm, your eyes staring him down wanting nothing more than to feel his lips over your body.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
“Please don’t punish me, Mr. Suh…” You lick and nip at his wrist.
“Shit…” he rasps. “You’re so beautiful,” he rubs his thumb against your cheek before grabbing your chin. “But you’re a brat, and brats need to be dealt with.”
Gulping from anticipation you feign innocence. “I-I didn’t mean it! Please!” Your mouth says forgive me but your eyes say come and get it.
Smirking, Johnny’s hand travels from your chin down to your neck and across your décolletage slowly — making sure every touch has you inching closer and closer to him. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes~” you purr reaching up to him, pulling him down to you.
Johnny’s eyes grow darker. His grip around your neck loosening. “What do you think you’re doing?” He lowers himself onto you more until his chest is pressed against yours. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to do that.” Sighing he shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Anything!” You choke out.
His lips meet yours in a gentle yet chilling kiss, “be careful what you wish for.” He says in a dark husky voice.
“You can do whatever you want to me…” you state firmly. “Anything.”
Stopping the smile that played on his lips, his hand travels down from your décolletage to just above the neckline of your low cut shirt. “Are you sure about that?”
Nodding eagerly, you stare up at him. With a swift movement Johnny has you switching positions with him; instead of standing between his legs — he pulls you on top of his lap, your legs straddling him. His hands rest just above your ass — your body sinking until you feel the bulge that is seconds from bursting through his loose fitted jeans. Wanting nothing than to grind your hips against him you withhold the urge.
After so many nights of fantasizing about him you’re finally at the moment where your dreams can become reality. There’s no way you’re going to screw it up and push him past his comfort zone. Especially, with a burning question in the back of your mind. With the roll of his hips your body gives into the lust you’ve kept locked away. Throwing away your inhibitions you grab his cheeks into your hand and smash your lips down onto his.
Your hips grinding into each other’s, both of you gasp for air between kisses — his grip on you tightening, holding you down against him getting out his frustration just as much as you’re chasing to release the frustration within you. Biting his bottom lip you’re desperate to taste him again. To feel his tongue swirling around yours in a forbidden dance of passion.
Parting his lips your tongue slides into his mouth only to capture his tongue between your lips. Shifting your body higher up on his, you suck on his tongue as if it were his dick. Mr. Suh groaning, his arms going from the top of your behind to around your waist. Releasing his tongue you go back to kissing him, missing the feeling of his lips on yours.
His mouth moves from yours and down to your chin. Angling your head back you give him access to your neck. Nipping, sucking and biting, Mr. Suh marks you, claiming ownership of your body. Moving down to the base of your neck, you melt in his hold a shiver washing over you. Smiling against your neck his lips spread and suck on a sensitive spot. Soft whimpers escape your lips — wanting to both flee from him as well as grab onto his hair to keep yourself in place to savor the delightful feeling.
Moving back from your neck Mr. Suh glances at the art piece he’s created on your body. His hold on you loosens allowing you to find purchase again on his lap both of you hissing when your clothed core brushes against his bulge.
Wincing as your hips roll over his again, keeping his hands at your waist to steady your ministrations he confesses. “J-Just so you know, I-I’ve never done this before.”
“Never done what before?” You ask slowing down before you work yourself up even more.
His eyes quiver from fear, apprehension, you can’t tell. Touching his cheek you smile and give him a gentle nod of encouragement.
“I don’t normally want to fuck my students. In fact, I’ve never wanted to do that before until —’’
“Until?” You give a faint smile.
Rolling his hips you whimper bringing your hand up to your lips shocked by the sound that passed your lips. “What do you think?” He asks.
“I never thought of you as someone who sleeps with his students. Especially, not with Lily around —” gasping you look behind you to the staircase. “I-Is she here? Shit, I didn’t think about it until now…” scrambling to get off of his lap Mr. Suh keeps you in place.
“I wouldn’t have started anything with you if Lily were in the house. She’s with Jaehyun right now. His neighbor’s kids are her classmates. She visits him every now and then to spend more time with them. It’s okay we’re alone,” he chuckles.
“Thank heavens,” you sink into his hold. “Wait a second! I thought she was sick. Is she well enough to be around others?” You perk up again.
Avoiding your gaze Johnny clears his throat. “Uh, about that…I, uh, lied. Well, I mean she wasn’t feeling well. She ate too much chocolate and had a stomach ache, but she’s fine now.”
Freezing on top of him your eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bought so much.”
Wrapping a gentle hand around your neck he pulls you down to him. “She ate my chocolate apparently. Snuck down at night,” he smiles against your lips. “The little sneak.”
Smiling along with him you enjoy the warm cozy feeling of his slipping from your neck down to your back, where his his thumb rubs against you with a soothing touch. “She’s adorable. You’ve done a great job raising her.”
“Thank you,” Johnny kisses you gently. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about her mother,” he pulls away from you hands resting on your hips once again.
Shit…
“Oh, I, now that you mention it, I haven’t met her.” You laugh nervously.
Not believing your realization one bit he squints at you. “Exactly what has Jaehyun told you?”
Ears perking up you turn away from him. “Mr. Jeong? What do you mean?”
“Now I could be a poor judge of character, but you don’t seem like the type of girl who would ruin a marriage just because she has the hots for the husband. So, I’m guessing you either know or have an inkling as to why you haven’t met Lily’s mother. So, what is it?”
“Ummm, I mean, I…”
A dark aura swirls around Mr. Suh while a devilish grin dances across his face. “Hmm, maybe a little coaxing will do the trick,” he moves one of his hands from your hips to between your legs — lifting away from him startled, he uses the opportunity to cup your throbbing core. “So, what do you know?” He adds pressure while rubbing his hand over you, stirring the neediness to have him buried deep inside of you.
“M-Mr. S-Suh!!”
“Come on, tell me, what do you know?” He presses harder against your pulsating core, your body pushing down against his hand wanting more.
Shaking your head you try to prolong his taunting. “N-Nothing! W-We barely talk about you,” a half truth and half lie.
Slowing down Johnny goes to remove his hand but you grab his wrist. “Oh, do you suddenly remember?”
“Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Please!” You bring his hand back to your now soaking core not caring if your jeans are getting ruined and grind against his hand.
Gulping, Johnny watches you for a second mesmerized by your performance. How you’re so worked up and he hasn’t even taken off your clothes. Snapping out of his thoughts he yanks his hand away. “Tell me what you know and I’ll continue.”
Crying out you go to grab his hand again but he puts it behind his back. “MR. SUH!!!!”
“Tell me what I need to know and if you’re good I’ll give you what you want and then some.”
“Why do you want to know so badly? Really, Mr. Jeong normally just asks if you’re nice to me and if I’m actually learning anything. Apparently my grades aren’t proof enough.” Your body goes slack against him.
Kissing the top of your head that’s now resting on his chest, he slides his hands under the hem of your shirt and up your back. The warmth of his fingers making you shiver. “Just tell me, that’s all you have to do.” He whispers.
Groaning you shake your head. “If I die its your fault. He told me to keep this knowledge a secret you know.”
“He won’t hurt you. Now out with it. I’d like to have some adult time before Lily gets home.”
Sitting up straight almost hitting Johnny’s chin you clear your throat. “Mr. Jeong told me not to mention your wife at all in front of you or Lily. He didn’t give me a lot of details but just said that she left and mentioning her would make you upset. So that’s why I never once asked about her.
“I actually wanted to give her a present of appreciation for allowing me to borrow you, this whole time. I assumed she would have preferred spending the end of the day with Lily and yourself, but Mr. Jeong said she wouldn’t get it. I thought it meant she was sick or dead. He corrected me.”
“So, you know everything?” His gaze falls from yours.
“In a roundabout way, yes.”
“So, I must ask, are you sure these feelings of yours, aren’t out of pity? The poor tutor whose wife ditched him in the middle of the night.”
“Stop that!” You shout startling him. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I already thought you were irresistible from the moment I saw you. That awkward text message to my friend is evidence enough.” He chuckles, shaking his head still avoiding your gaze. Grabbing his chin you turn and raise his head so he’s looking into your eyes.
“Nothing has changed. I do not like you out of pity. I like you because you’re resilient. You raised Lily into a sweet girl, really, she’s adorable. You juggled being a full-time dad with a full-time job. You’re still able to keep a bachelor like Mr. Jeong around despite it all so you’re either super mega ultra best friends, or you’re loaded and he’s using you for your money.” He cracks a huge smile and you continue. “And,” your hand drops from his chin but a single finger slides down his neck, Johnny gulping in the process. “You obviously take care of your physical health too…” your finger finds it’s way to the middle of his broad muscular chest.
”That’s a lot coming from someone who doesn't know me at all.” He attempts to brush off your compliments, but the tinge of pink coming to his cheeks betrays him.
“And you don’t know anything about me aside from the fact that you’re now my tutor and math is definitely not my best subject. Yet here we are,” you roll your pelvis against his. “Two strangers trying to find something that they need.”
”What exactly do I need?” He grunts when a particular roll of your hips makes him buck upwards.
Smirking, you slither down to the floor, crawling between Johnny’s legs. Locking eyes with him, you run your hands up his thighs and over the tent of his jeans.
“A release,” you giggle moving your face closer to where his dick is covered by his jeans.
Pressing harder against him you palm him over the taught fabric. “I-Is that so?!!” He says breathlessly trying to keep his cool.
“Mhmm, oh and maybe a tight pussy to shove your big dick into.” You unzip his jeans. “Plus, it’s been far too long since I’ve gotten a proper release myself.”
Gulping, he watches you like a hawk, his chest rising and falling. “Wh-When was the last time exactly?”
Pausing, you think back to your last boyfriend. A boy indeed since you both were only sixteen at the time. He was nice and cute, the typical boy next door that every mother wants for her daughter. Hell, he even went to church on Sunday’s. The problem with him… behind those baby blue eyes and sweet smile, he was a complete sadist!
Bending you over the bed frame while he plowed into you from behind, not warming you up, not caring about the fact it was your first time and you could feel blood trickling down your leg. It hurt a lot that first time. The couple times afterwards we’re just as bad. He called foreplay smacking your pussy with his dick, rather hard too. And a female orgasm, forget about it. He stated with his full chest ‘the female orgasm doesn’t exist. I’ve read numerous academic articles online.’ In truth he read a bunch of misogynistic, I’m-an alpha-male-who-can’t-make-a-woman-cum articles that convinced him otherwise.
After the third terrible, painful sexual experience you had to grow a backbone and call it quits — resulting in a rumor that you loved eating ass, because that made sense. The only ass you would have eaten was his so it all backfired on him anyway. A snippet of karma for his pettiness.
The only other experience was with your neighbor's daughter. An out of the blue moment, you were both watching porn and just wanted to know how it would feel. That was your senior year and boy was it… fun. A tiny secret you’ll keep till you find a man who is self-assured enough to handle it. Perhaps… Mr. Suh could be…
“It’s been quite a while. And I really,” you move back to tug down his jeans, Mr. Suh helping you by raising his butt off the couch. “Really need to get rid of this pent up frustration you’ve caused. And since it’s your fault,” you toss his jeans over your head. “I think it’s only fair that you help me out. Don’t you think?”
Leaning forward you press your lips on Johnny’s incredible length. Already impressed you run your lips across his briefs licking a wet streak as you go.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans throwing his head back. “God that feels good already.”
Giggling you find the tip of his cock, his briefs showing a stain of precum on the outside. Smushing your thighs together you attempt to calm the beating of your pulsing bundle of nerves — wanting so badly to touch yourself, to come undone while sucking him off, but Mr. Suh needs this moment and you can wait.
Suckling on the cum that’s leaked from him already you savor the taste of him. How many times you’ve dreamt about what he would taste like and smell like. How big he’d be — your imagination not doing him justice at all, and how it would feel for him to go balls deep inside of you.
“I need your lips on me…” he groans, with one hand gripping the arm of the couch for dear life and the other tangled up in his hair.
Kitten licking the impression of his cock you grab the waistband of his briefs and yank them down as well, till he steps out of them with your help. Tossing them behind you like you did his jeans you darn near pass out. Nothing you could have ever imagined would compare to what is in front of you. With your mouth hanging open, Johnny sits up taking off his shirt and throwing it with his other clothes.
Sitting back he takes his more than you would have thought, length into his hand stroking it. Amazed at the scene in front of you, you stay put almost desperate to watch him jerk himself off before even motioning for you to come over and make him cum again. Now that would be punishment.
“Do you think you candle this?” He taunts you by wiggling his cock in front of you.
Not only was he long but the amount of girth he possessed made it hard for his cock to stand up on its own. It’s just too damn heavy.
“I-I’m more than willing to try!” You scramble between his legs desperate to taste him again.
Before you can take a hold of him, he yanks his cock back. “How badly do you want to suck my dick?”
“I’m soaking wet just thinking about it, Mr. Suh.”
Turning his head away from you stunned by your honesty he composes himself once more. “Come closer,” he calls to you.
Nestling as close as you can between his legs, your arms rest on the tops of his thighs. Earnestly waiting for him to let you take control.
“Open your mouth,” he instructs.
Opening wide, you follow his instructions. Mr. Suh, pumps his hand up and down his length a few more times until he places just the tip of his cock into your mouth.
“Ouhm,” you make a non-coherent sound and try to hold onto his length, the weight of his cock already a lot by just the tip resting in your mouth.
Quickly, before you can take hold, Mr. Suh pulls his cock away chuckling. “I don’t know if you can handle it.”
Clicking your tongue you get up onto your knees. “Watch me!”
Staring down at the massive length of Johnny’s cock, you gulp as lightly as you can muster. This is going to be a hell of a task. Of course, you expected him to be packing but this! It’s as everyone says, God does have favorites and he’s bestowed Johnny onto you.
Thank you.
Looking up at Johnny you stare him down as you stick out your tongue. Getting closer and closer to the tip of his cock, his bottom lip gets snagged between his teeth. Anticipation causes his chest to rise and fall — ears, cheeks, and chest turning the lightest shade of pink. Nodding he urges you to move closer and when you finally make contact with the tip, his eyes roll to the back of his head.
”Fuck~~~” he drawls out a growl.
It wasn’t just his eyes that rolled into the back of his head, but yours too. As you kitten lick down the length of his cock, you can’t help but moan onto his shaft. The taste and smell of him, intoxicating. You lick a stripe down to the base only to pull away and blow gently on the wetness you created.
“Sh-Shit…” Mr. Suh chuckles. “That’s something new,” he strokes the top of your head.
“Learned it from an ex,” you admit.
“Tell them I said thanks.” Smirking, you kiss up and down his length before finally taking him into your mouth. “Oh, yes baby…”
Hollowing out your cheeks you suck on the head of his cock. Like a woman possessed you dive deeper and deeper around him. The tip reaching the back of your throat gagging you.
”Easy, baby…” Mr. Suh coos, stroking your hair. “Take your time.”
Sliding up his length your mouth hangs open, saliva stringing from his shaft to your lips. Eyes clouded with lust you merely nod before spitting on his dick and diving back down.
He is right. There is far too much of him to gobble down immediately. His girth stretching out the corners of your lips making it feel as though they’ll split and bleed. But, you just can’t help yourself. He’s far too enticing to resist.
Sitting up straighter, you take the lower base of Mr. Suh’s shaft and dive down until you reach your hand. A long groan comes from him. Taking a shot in the dark from your bestie’s rendezvous’ you try the one thing she said made her ex-boyfriend go crazy.
As Mr. Suh reaches the back of your throat you hold him there in your mouth, your mouth sucking the life out of him before slowly pulling back. Your tongue juts out and you lick the back of his length along the pronounced vein — Mr. Suh’s body trembling underneath your touch.
”Fuck ~~~~ that felt good.” His hand strokes down your hair one last time before he grabs a handful. “But I need more of that pretty mouth of yours.”
Lowering your head back down onto his cock, Mr. Suh uses your mouth to get himself off. His hips thrusting up, his dick slides in and out of your mouth quickly. Your eyes tearing up — the tip of his length no doubt creating an impression in the back of your throat — pushing you down further, your body moves forward and curls as you try not to gag. Doing everything you’ve heard to stop yourself from retching, you keep your body still until he pulls out.
Choking on air, you wipe your mouth of the thick saliva that escaped past your lips. Looking up at Johnny starry and blurry eyed you watch him stroke himself earnestly waiting for you to wrap your lips around him again. Pushing his hand away, you do what that useless ex actually complimented you for — and give Mr. Suh the best blow job of his life.
Soaking his cock in your saliva, you lick all the way down his shaft, pumping your hand at the top before sucking one of his balls into your mouth. Mr. Suh’s hand finding purchase in your hair before he pulls you back, causing you to release his sack with a pop and barely giving you a chance to give the other a little lick before you’re staring at him again.
With a smirk plastered to your face you ask, “what? You don’t like that?”
”Quite the contrary, but I’d rather cum with your mouth wrapped around my dick and not my balls.”
Listening to his request you wrap your lips around the tip once more and suckle on it and his length like he was your favorite flavor of lollipop. Small kisses decorate the underside of his shaft before you kiss the head. Staring him down you slide your hand up and down his length.
Mr. Suh’s eyes start closing the closer you edge him to cum. His body trembling and his groans getting louder until you blow down the slickness you’ve created and he shivers beneath you. Giggling you hollow your cheeks around him and drink him up when his hands hold your head down on him.
”Fuck! Just a little…” he growls lifting his hip, his cock sliding in out of your mouth. “SHIT!!” He pushes your head down more until you choke on his dick, this time your hands grip the top of his thighs, your nails creating impressions in his skin. “I’m gonna~~~” he groans, his head dropping back to his shoulders.
Warm liquid fills your mouth. Small whimpers rumble in your throat as his cum coats your mouth. He doesn’t move away, his pelvis frozen in the air while he spasms beneath you. Your mouth fills and some of his essence slips past your lips and drips down his length. With one final jerk of his body, Mr. Suh lowers himself down back to the couch, his cock sliding from your lips slowly.
His chest heaves quickly, eyes clouded just like you know yours are. With a quick swipe of your thumb over your lips, you tilt your head back, his cum slipping down your throat until its gone.
“Shit…” he lets out a long shaky breath. “That was amazing,” he chuckles. “But I do think I need to repay the favor.”
”Oh, believe me Mr. Suh, it was my pleasure,” you say, licking all of the residue of his release from your fingers.
Wiggling a finger, he beckons you to him. “Come here, you little brat,” he calls to you.
Getting onto your feet you stand between Mr. Suh’s legs. He sits up, eyeing your body before him. “Well this won’t do,” he slides his hand under your shirt. “We need to get rid of these.”
Quickly, you strip from your shirt, the fabric flying off the top of your head and landing somewhere on the floor. Laughing, Mr. Suh, undoes the buttons of your jeans, sliding them down your body. Just like your shirt you discard the piece of clothing somewhere away from you on the floor. Standing in your bra and panties, Mr. Suh takes the opportunity to let his eyes roam over every curve and inch of you.
Thanking the Lord you decided to wear your matching black bra and panties today instead of your usual ‘whatever you can find’ combo — he wraps his arms around the back of your legs and pulls you till you're straddling his lap once more, your soaked panties brushing against his hardened length.
Shocked that Mr. Suh could still be this hard after coming once, you wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re quite insatiable, Mr. Suh.” You tease and grind on top of his length earning a low growl from deep in his throat.
“How could I not be with a beautiful woman in my presence?” He asks and unsnaps your bra, the straps sliding down your arms before you sit up allowing him to pull the fabric off of you. Discarding it in the heap of clothing now collecting on the floor he takes in your bare breasts.
With hungry eyes and a lick of his lips he cups one of your breasts in his hand. An airy moan has you throwing your head back, your hands resting on his shoulder.
“So sensitive,” he says playfully.
“They’ve always been sensitive…” you confess.
“Is that so?”
Leaning forward, he gives your unattended breast a kiss near your nipple. Another moan emitting from you. Taking both of your breasts in his hands, you arch your back, resting your hand instead of on his shoulder but the top of his thighs. Glancing up at you he captures one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud. While he pinches and twists the other nipple.
Your hips start grinding on top of his lap, the feeling of his mouth on your breast a little too good to withstand. Growling his teeth graze over your perky bud making you jump a little. Chuckling he switches to the other side and repeats the same sensuous torture, your body craving for his mouth and hands on another part of you. Kissing along the top of your chest, his arms wrap around your waist pulling you back to him — his back resting on the back of the couch, while he devours your chest up to your neck one kiss, lick and nip at a time.
“Your choice,” he whispers against your neck. “Mouth or fingers?”
“E-Eh?”
Staring up at you with those chocolate orbs of his, he reaches for the back of your neck and pulls you down gently till his lips rest on yours. “Do you want me to get you off with my mouth or my fingers?” He places a feather-like kiss on your lips.
Gulping, you whisper against each kiss he leaves, “f-fingers…please!”
Knowing that there is no way in hell that you would last even a minute if his tongue grazed over your clit — at least with his fingers you’ll be able to feel him inside of you — the probability of lasting longer much higher than if he used his mouth. The throbbing between your legs making you three times more sensitive than normal, a loud moan interrupts your throats as Mr. Suh rubs over your wet folds — having already moved your panties to the side, he prods your entrance before rubbing over your clit once more.
Mumbling against your neck, he pulls his hand back from you. “Fuck baby, you’re already so wet.” Pulling his hand up he shows you your slick on his fingers. “Damn…” he twiddles his fingers in amazement at how you’ve soaked them. “So wet for me,” he slides his fingers into his mouth.
“M-Mr. Suh!!!!” You squeak, grabbing his hand to stop him but his fingers disappear into his mouth.
Groaning, his eyes roll back as he sucks his fingers clean of your juices. “So fucking good…I knew you’d taste good,” he drops his hand back down to between your legs, his fingers sliding across your folds; spreading your slick over your clit. Probing your entrance with his middle finger, he rubs your bundle of nerves with his thumb.
“M-Mr. Suh…” you whimper.
Sliding his finger inside of you, he bites down on your neck. “Shit, baby,” he pumps his finger in and out of you. Squelching noises from your pussy sound out alongside your soft moans. “You’re dripping wet...”
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” you place your hands on the side of his face, tilting his head up for you to kiss him. The taste of his mouth as well as your slick swirling around, arousing you more and more as the kiss prolongs. Your hips start swiveling before you drop down onto his finger — sinking him inside of you. “Mmm…more…” you raise your hips to slide back down on his fingers.
“You sure?” He bites your bottom lip.
”Pleas, Mr. Suh…” you whine.
Chuckling, he waits until you’ve raise your hips once more before sliding his finger out, a strand of your wetness pulling away. Rubbing over your clit gently with his fingers, he soothes you into a comfortable rhythm, your hips following his movements against his cock. When his fingers are nice and wet, he whispers ‘up,’ and you separate from his length.
One-by-one, Mr. Suh slides in all of his fingers but his thumb into your entrance. Each time allowing you to adjust to his fingers and the spread of your inner walls. It’s been far too long since you’ve felt this good and without thinking, your pelvis starts to grind down onto his fingers.
“That’s it baby,” he kisses your chin. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”
With this simple command you sink yourself deeper down onto Mr. Suh’s fingers. Your body arching back, his fingers pressed together creating the perfect arch to rub over that sensitive spot inside of you. Forgetting to be coy, you become a moaning whimpering whore on top of him. The only thing running through your mind is trying to find that sweet release you’ve been dying to feel from the moment he kissed you.
The way he grabbed you and choked you. The sensuous venom in his voice as he called you a brat. How he couldn’t help but rock his hips into yours while you sucked the life out of his tongue before you showed his cock — mere inches below you, the same treatment. Nothing else matters in the world right now than finding your release, but more importantly that Mr. Suh is the one helping you.
“SHIT!” You screech when a specific rock of your hip has you slowly coming undone on top of him.
“Right there, baby?” He sits up, moving his body back to get a better angle.
“Yes! Yes!” You cry out.
Like a flash of light, Mr. Suh grips onto your hip while he quickly moves his fingers in and out of you — building up the pressure from deep inside of you. Your body starts to raise higher and higher as he continues to pound his fingers into you. Words are lost on your tongue while cries of pleasure and a bit of pain pour from you. The charging roar of your climax sending chills over your body, your sight becoming dark and blurry until you scream.
“FUCK!!!!”
Liquid pours from you as Mr. Suh removes his hand, drenching his lap and the inside of your legs. He holds onto you tightly while your body jerks and spasms from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt.
“Keep going, baby,” he growls his hand rubbing over your clit gearing up another wave of juices to pour from you. “That’s it! That’s a good girl!” He chuckles, amazed at how riled up you got. “But I’m sorry, I need more from you.” Small spasms take over you as your placed with your back down on the couch and your legs wrapped around Mr. Suh’s hips.
More? How can you possibly give any more than what you’ve already done? You know through the starry blackness covering your eyes, that you’ve soaked Mr. Suh’s lap and his couch in the process and yet he wants more? You didn’t even know you could squirt! And he wants to make you squirt more?!
Unwrapping your legs from his waist, he grabs a pillow from the couch placing it behind your head making sure you’re comfortable. Lifting up your legs he slides your drenched panties up and off of you, squeezing them to see how much of your squirt spills from them and onto the floor.
“You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now,” he growls as the last drop of your essence hits the floor.
“Then do it~~” you whine, still breathless from your release.
“Patience, sweetie,” he chuckles, nestling between your legs. “I’m going to savor you for as long as I can.”
Kissing the inside of your thighs, your body reacts instantaneously. Your legs clamping down around his face making him laugh as he’s squished between your thighs. Prying your legs open he gives your pussy mound a light kiss before his tongue finally lands on your bundle of nerves.
“SH-SHIT!!!!” Your legs go to clamp around his face but he quickly holds out his hands to block them. “I-I can’t…I can’t…” you cry, your hands gripping the pillow behind you.
Popping his head up you can see your juices smeared across his lips and chin. “Yes you can,” he licks his lips staring you dead straight in the eyes. An involuntary moan has you bitting your bottom lip to keep you from making any more sounds. “You taste delicious,” he dives down for another lick. “Best pussy ever.” He mumbles against your folds.
Spreading your folds with his tongue, Mr. Suh clamps down around your clit, sucking it hard until you’re seeing stars once more. Raising your one leg up closer by your ears you give him more access. His hands move from your inner thighs to your hips while he devours you. Slurping sounds fill the room while he drinks you.
Mr. Suh works quickly as he gears you up for your next orgasm. Hips moving against his mouth you try to urge your body as well to reach that place of euphoria once more. Hands moving from the pillow behind you to your breasts you massage the taut flesh giving in to the feeling of Mr. Suh’s tongue swirling around your clit and down to your entrance.
Wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening like this on the couch, your body starts to rile up again. The tiny hairs on your body standing on end, a fire building up from the top of your head making its way to your stomach with ever roll of your hips and every swipe of Mr. Suh’s tongue.
As your hips raise higher and higher so does Mr. Suh’s face. Holding you steady he prods your entrance with his tongue, sucking up all of the juices that have since poured from you.
“Don’t stop!” You moan. “Please don’t stop!” Darkness starts to take over your sight. The pressure in your stomach exploding into a million butterflies.
Gulping down your juices that starts to pour out of you once again, Mr. Suh wraps his arms around your legs keeping them in place, your pelvis raised in the air.
“Come on, baby,” he says, face smushed into your pussy. “I need more from you.”
Shaking in his hold, he moves his tongue up and down from your clit to your entrance again and again until the darkness turns into tiny stars. Finding comfort at your sensitive nub, he swirls his tongue around and around when a loud cry emits from you.
”F-FUCKKKK!!!!!!”
You twist and try to get away from him when your orgasm takes you out like a freight train. Body quaking more liquid pours from you entering his mouth and onto the couch. Feeling like a fish out of water he uses all his strength to keep you onto the couch and not on the floor — still drinking you up as if he were dying of thirst.
“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” You repeat still feeling his tongue on you. “I can’t!” Your hands flail to his hands tapping them to get him to stop.
Mr. Suh smiles and pulls back giving you small kisses on your clit, your mound and your inner thigh — nipping the inside of your left thigh before finally pulling away from you.
“I could stay here forever,” he laps up your juices from his lips and chin while you lower yourself back down to the couch. Peeking up at you he kisses your clit one last time, earning a moan from you. “You really do have a delicious pussy,” he gives another kiss to your inner thigh. “Are you still with me?”
Shaking your head you lay there exposed in front of him too exhausted to move. “No…”
Laughing, Mr. Suh sits himself up and goes back to where he was sitting prior to making you a lifeless fuck doll. Giving your leg a little tap he calls to you. “Baby,” you barely have enough energy to look at him to see his sweet smile. Insatiable demon tutor! “Come to me.”
Sitting up lethargically, you find Johnny stroking his cock preparing himself for you. Bottom lip between your teeth, you stare at the man in front of you. How a woman would leave him is beyond your wildest imagination. Crawling towards him like a zombie, he wraps an arm around you as you get settled on his lap.
“How do you still have energy?” You ask him, forehead resting on top of his.
Chuckling, he holds you close to him. “I didn’t come three times in a row.” He gives you a little peck.
”And whose fault is that?” You retort.
”Hmm, I think it was a rather handsome tutor who has been fighting the urge day in and day out from kissing a certain student of his. He’s the culprit! Damn him!”
“You’re a weird guy aren’t you?” You giggle nuzzling your nose against his. “But are you sure about this?” You ask him. “Once we start there’s no going back.” You hover above his length.
Shocked by your sudden question, he eyes you carefully. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No.” His arms wrap around you, making you feel safe and secure. “But I’m not the one who’s married,” you lean back enough to lick his lips before placing a kiss upon them.
“Is it still a marriage when one person hasn’t called, sent a text, shown up in the last two years?” He nips along your jawline.
“No. I wouldn’t call that a marriage at all.” Reaching between your legs you take hold of his length positioning him at your entrance.
“I’m okay if you’re okay,” he whispers in your ear.
Slowly lowering yourself onto Mr. Suh’s cock the two of you hiss when your walls surround his length. Gripping your waist tightly he grits his teeth at the snug fit.
“You’re so tight,” he clamps down on the side of your neck. “Fuck! So good!”
“N-No…” you gasp as you bottom out. “You’re just really big!”
Smirking against your skin, Johnny looks up at you. “Don’t move. Just sit here for a while,” he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “I haven’t felt this good in two years,” he sighs contently.
“Wait…You haven’t been with another woman in two years?!”
“No. I always thought…” he goes quiet. “Silly, isn’t it?”
“Not silly,” you stroke his hair gently. “It’s just messed up what she did to you. I mean I wouldn’t leave someone as handsome as you. As sweet and kind as you. As patient as you’ve been with me and this tutoring business.” You start to giggle which draws his attention. “And not to make it all about your dick, but like hell I’d leave a man who’s as big as you.” With a gentle thrust he buries himself deeper inside of you. “Ahhh!!!” You moan. “N-Not cool, Mr. Suh,” you tease.
“Not gonna lie, it’s been kind of hot to hear you call me Mr. Suh this whole time. Especially now when I’m buried inside of you,” he thrusts upward again.
“Oh really?” Leaning down to his ear you whisper gently. “Mr. Suh, I want you to make me cum again,” you bite his ear gently.
Holding onto your waist, Johnny keeps you steady as you start to use his dick to get yourself off. Grinding on top of him, your arms rest behind you, hands on his knees — back arching to feel him rub against you in such a tantalizing way, you start to go cross-eyed. He feels too good to stop or to slow down. His massive cock reaching parts of you no other person, man or woman, has ever reached before.
“Shit!” You shout when you finally slow down.
Falling forward, one of your hands rests on the back of the couch, and Johnny uses the opportunity to grab your breasts massaging them while you bounce on his cock.
”Aaahhh…” you moan when he pinches your nipples, your hips jutting forward at the slight pain.
“Come on baby, make yourself cum,” he leans forward wrapping his mouth around your nipple.
“Fuck~~~” you hiss.
Your hips move faster than ever, your climax getting closer and closer with each swivel of your pelvis.
“S-So close…” you cry out.
Biting down on your nipple, Johnny swirls your erect bud within his mouth. Each time the tiniest bit of pain turns into pleasure and shoots to your core. Your body starts growing warmer as you gear up for another orgasm, but you need more, you want more. Tapping his arm he pulls back from your breast with a pop.
Without a second thought you turn yourself around on his lap, back facing him, you slide down onto his cock reveling in the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hands at your hips, you lean back till your face is next to his. Holding the side of your face he kisses you gently while stuffing his cock into your pussy.
He pummels your pussy, your back arching, hips bouncing on top of him. Reaching around you, his other hand rubs over your clit making you pull away from him and cry out.
”Again! Please!!!!”
One hand holding onto your neck, the other rubbing over your pulsing bundle of nerves, Mr. Suh pushes his cock deep into your soaking core. Wet squelching noises fill the room along with your moans. Completely bare to the world you fall into a deep trance of lust.
As you're bouncing on top, Mr. Suh takes his hand and gives your swollen clit a little slap — a small action having you jut your hips forward, your body shivering with pleasure. The word again comes out of your mouth as if it were your mantra, he shoves you down onto his cock while he rubs over your pussy, but not before he gives it another little slap, this time, you let out a guttural scream of pleasure.
“Ahhhhh…shit!!!!”
With each thrust of his hips into you, you slide up his cock little by little only to drench his length, the couch, and floor with your juices. Legs shaking, he holds onto you with one hand, the other snaking between your legs — fingers entering inside of you, moving quickly until you release again onto the floor.
“Fucking love this pussy,” Mr. Suh growls into your ear as he yanks you backdown onto his cock.
Neither of you waste time as you bounce on top of him again. Still sensitive from before your moans grow louder. Each thrust hitting every nerve of your body just right. Your heart pounds in your ears, as Mr. Suh once again rubs over your sensitive clit. In no time you’re screaming out that you're coming yet again and soon your body pulls away from him as you squirt onto his floor.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he pulls you back down onto the couch.
Lifeless from the epitome of pleasure, he places you onto all fours while he gets behind you. Sliding into you, he grabs your hips and rams into you.
Back arched, ass up in the air you cling onto the fabric of his couch — now soaked in your juices. Mr. Suh’s long thick cock drives into you, sparing you no mercy as your whimpers continue nonstop.
Wanting to feel him deeper inside of you, you start pushing yourself against him — ass flush against his hips.
“More…more…” you cry out.
Possessed by your own lust for him, you start bouncing on his lap — pussy gulping him down inch by inch. Mr. Suh’s groans getting drowned out by your desperation.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yell each time your hips meet his.
Hunched over you, he digs his nails into your flesh as he pushes into you harder balls slapping against you. It wasn’t long until your eyes clench shut and your body starts to tremble. Moving faster Mr. Suh pushes you to lose your senses once more.
“I-I-I’m coming!” You scream.
Shoving his cock into you a few more times Mr. Suh pulls out just as you explode, your squirt pouring down onto your legs. Cupping your core, he eases you back down from your high while simultaneously driving you over the edge.
“Lay down for me, okay?” He asks, kissing your cheek.
Crawling onto the couch you flop down onto your back, arms and legs feeling like anchors on your body. Chuckling, he hovers over you, hiking one of your legs up to give him more room to move. Dazed you run your hands down his chest feeling the muscles of his body. Biting your lip, you try to keep yourself from coming undone just by the look and feel of him.
“You’re so beautiful right now,” he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss on the lips while he teases your entrance.
“S-Sure I am,” a shiver comes over you, your hips already moving against the tip of his cock.
“Trust me, if only you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he rubs the tip of his cock over your swollen pulsing bud before sliding into you.
Eyes closed you relish in the feeling of Mr. Suh being inside of you. All those days and weeks wanting to know what it was like could never paint a good picture of what it truly was like to be filled by the man above you. The roll of his hips as he goes deeper inside of you. The soft yet powerful thrusts, his body getting dangerously close to yours — trapping you beneath him, somehow getting squished under this man doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
How he grips your body tightly, nails sinking into your skin causing just the right amount of pain to push you closer to your breaking point. Opening your eyes, you gasp seeing the sight above you. Mr. Suh’s hair drenched in sweat, his body glistening in the light of his lamps. Eyes dark and yet so full of… admiration, you can’t help but pull him down closer to you. Wanting nothing more than your bodies to be connected to each other.
“I don’t want to squish you,” he chuckles in your ear.
“Do it, I don’t care.” You wrap your legs just above his pelvis. “Crush me into this couch while you fuck me!”
Grunting, Mr. Suh slams his hips into yours so hard you see nothing but black for a second. “Shit!” You screech holding onto him for dear life.
Just like you asked, he doesn’t hold back anymore. His body lowering onto you completely, his hips grinding into yours fast and hard you’re shocked you haven’t been split in half already. Nails sliding down his back, he picks up his pace signaling he’s close. Hands going up to his hair, you grip the ends tightly begging for him to use you.
“Fuck. That. Pussy!” You growl in his ears. “Shit! I love your dick so much,” you bite down on his ear.
Like some kind of primal creature, Mr. Suh growls and moves his hips faster and deeper — crushing you into the couch, not caring at all whether or not he’s hurting you. The only thing he’s chasing is the high he's made you feel time and time again this afternoon.
His breathing becomes ragged as do his thrusts and just as he pulls out of you, that powerful wave of euphoria washes over you. Pumping himself in his hand, Mr. Suh throws his head back as he cums — white strands landing on top of your clit and mound.
“Sh-Shit!” He growls, his hand moving up and down his length quickly not stopping until he’s painted your pussy in every last drop of his cum. “Fuck~~” he exhales deeply, his body sinking back onto his knees.
With his length still in his hand he leans forward rubbing the tip of his cock over your clit. You yelp, almost pulling away when suddenly your body starts to become hot. Your breathing quickens and before you know it, you scream as another wave of satisfaction makes you crumble beneath him.
“F-F-Fuck!!!” He smirks, still rubbing over your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-Okay… okay…” you hold out your hands, body jerking and shaking. “I really can’t… no more, no more…” you cry out and giggle.
Pulling away from you, Mr. Suh takes a breather before tapping your legs that are sprawled out, a picture perfect view of your cum soaked core in front of him. Sitting up he opens his arms for you. Getting up to your hands and knees you crawl over to him only to melt in his arms and lap.
“That was…” he starts a goofy smile on his face.
“DAMN YOU!” You hit his chest playfully. “Now I won’t be able to have sex with anyone else.”
Laughing, Mr. Suh wraps you tightly in his arms kissing the top of your head. “Good,” he pulls back far enough to see your face. “Because I’m far from done with you. I still haven’t punished you,” he squints.
”EHHH?!!!”
A loud giggle and the slam of a door startles both you and Mr. Suh. Leaping up from the couch and his arms you scramble to get your clothes and throw him his. Both of you heading back to his study, you giggle as you both give each other sneaky touches that if it wasn’t for Lily coming home it would sure start up another round.
Stepping into your pants and throwing on your bra and shirt, Mr. Suh has since put on his jeans and shirt and is trying to help you as best as he can. Grabbing your hand he pulls you out of his study, down the hall and heads straight for the kitchen. Taking out your binder you pretend that you have been working on your homework and studying when the door opens — just as Mr. Suh sits down next to you.
”Daddy! Daddy!”
“In the kitchen sweetheart,” he shouts, his chest heaving.
Lily comes running into the kitchen with a huge stuffed animal in her tiny arms. “Daddy, look!” She holds out a tiger cub. “Isn’t she cute?!”
“She’s adorable! Did you give her a name?”
”Kimmie!”
“That’s a wonderful name,” Mr. Suh strokes her hair. “Is Uncle Jaehyun with you?”
”I’m here,” he saunters into the kitchen, more leisurely looking than what you’re used to. His hair isn’t slicked back neatly, but resting gently around his eyes. Though he still looks put together, a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans, on him — he’s just like a model from a clothing ad.
“Uncle Jaehyun won it for me!” She jumps and down with the tiger in her arms.
“Did he?” Mr. Suh smirks. “How long did it take you?”
”Too long…” he groans. “By the way what’s up with the huge wet mess on the couch?”
Going stiff beside Mr. Suh you try to act normal. You try not to act like you’re the cause of the massive puddle that is slowly soaking into his furniture. Let alone, the floor which Mr. Jeong most likely saw as well.
“We had to come into the kitchen after spilling some white wine on the couch. It was my fault. I tripped,” Mr. Suh laughs, scratching the back of his neck.
”And you just left the puddle of wine on the floor?” Mr. Jeong crosses his arms, his eyes going from Mr. Suh, to you.
“I was just about to clean it up when you guys walked in,” he says with an eerie perkiness. “Lily, sweetheart, why don’t you go and put Kimmy upstairs with your other stuffed animals. Your uncle and I need to talk.”
”Okay daddy,” she hops over to Mr. Jeong and he instantly picks her up and gives her a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for taking me to the arcade Uncle Jeong.”
”You’re welcome,” he gives her one last kiss and she skips off to her bedroom.
The kitchen is quiet until Mr. Jeong hears footsteps above his head. Most likely Lily heading to her room. When the footsteps start to disappear, he stares accusingly at both Mr. Suh and yourself.
”What the hell is going on?”
Getting up from the table, Mr. Suh heads towards a counter far off from where you’re seated and grabs a couple paper towels. Sinking in your seat you stay there before jumping up.
“I-I can do that Mr. Suh! Plus, Mr. Jeong wanted to talk to you.”
”Seriously, Mr. Jeong? We’re not in class anymore, it’s Jaehyun.”
“Sorry, Mr. Jaehyun.” You rush over and grab the paper towels and head for the mess you made before anyone could say anything else.
Taking a peek at the mess Mr… Jaehyun mentioned, you cringe at the face he most likely made. He’s a smart man, there's no way he didn’t think up some kind of weird scenario in his head of what could have happened. And as much as Mr. Suh tried to cover it up, there is no way he’s going to believe that happened at all.
Getting on your hands and knees you start to wipe up the puddles of your squirt you made on the floor. It wasn’t as much as you thought, most of it on the couch which you’ll have to fork over some of your shopping money to pay for a deep cleaning or a new couch for Mr. Suh. Your head hangs low as all of the different items you wanted to buy slowly become a wish instead of a dream.
‘What’s your problem? I told you nothing happened!’ Mr.Suh’s voice travels into the living room. ‘Are you serious? That’s what you’re upset about?’
Sitting up you lean back trying to see what’s going on in there, but sadly there is no clear view into the kitchen from the living room.
‘I told you that in confidence and you go behind my back?!’ Jaehyun shouts. ‘What kind of friend does that?’
Mr. Suh went behind his back? You start scooting closer and closer to the kitchen, still within the vicinity of your mess, but much closer to hear what’s really being said.
‘Have you talked to her at all? Did you even ask her if she likes you? If you’re even her type?’
‘That isn’t what we’re discussing here!’ Jaehyun mumbles. ‘We’re discussing the obvious mess out in the living room!’
‘What are you trying to imply?’
Your body has now pressed itself onto the wall, heart pounding as Jaehyun’s voice becomes but a mere whisper… ‘you fucked her didn’t you?’ Waiting for Mr. Suh’s response, your arm that was wiping up your slick off the floor is now wiping a nonexistent mess in the air — your mind far too invested in the conversation both your… teachers are having in the other room.
‘Why would you think that?’ Mr. Suh replies, his voice steady.
‘THERE IS A FUCKING MESS OUT IN THE LIVING ROOM! Do you think I buy that bullshit about spilling white wine?’
‘Why would you automatically go to sex? Why isn’t it believable that we both sat down for a glass of wine and it spilled?’
‘Where are the glasses? Where is the bottle? Hmmm?’
Mr. Suh doesn’t say a single word. Jaehyun was right, there is absolutely no way that Johnny can get out of this one. Not even you can think of an excuse that would be good enough to use.
‘Please just tell me you didn’t fuck her… not after I confessed I had feelings for her. Please tell me you didn’t do it, please.’
Your eyes widen at Mr. Jeong’s words. He has a crush on… you shake your head. That can’t be, he’s your teacher! There’s no way in hell he could like you! Even if he did, there's no way that you can date him, it’s unethical! Not to mention…you take the risk and peek around the corner to see both Mr. Jeong and Mr. Suh sitting down at the kitchen table — Mr. Jeong waiting, pleading for Mr. Suh to answer him.
‘I’m sorry, Jaehyun.’
Jumping up from his chair, Mr. Jeong knocks it over and it crashes to the floor making you jump. ‘Are you fucking kidding me, man? What is wrong with you? I would never do that to you! So why?’ He slams his hands down on the table, ‘why?!’ He shouts.
‘She doesn’t belong to you, Jaehyun. She has choices that she can make on her own. It wasn’t planned and I wasn’t plotting against you. It just… happened,’ he sighs. ‘I don’t regret it, all I regret is that you’re upset with me.’
‘It just happened? Is that what you’re going for? Shit man! I told you once she wasn’t my student anymore I was going to ask her out! What is your —
“I would have said no.” You storm into the kitchen.
Spinning towards you, Mr. Jeong’s shoulders fall from his ears. “You were listening?”
“You weren’t exactly being quiet.” You take the wet paper towels and put them in the trash. “No matter if you asked me the moment I passed your class or a year from now I would have said no. It would be unethical for you to date a student, a former one at that when they’re still actively going to school where you work.”
“She’s not wrong,” Mr. Suh chuckles.
“Shut up!” Both Mr. Jeong and yourself say in unison.
“It was never going to be you, Mr… Jaehyun. I hope you understand. If I led you on in any way I apologize, it was never my —”
He holds up a hand. “You didn’t lead me on, ever. These feelings are mine alone.”
“Where does that leave us?” Mr. Suh stands and walks over to you. “Would you be against us, if we…” he looks down at you.
“If we become a couple?” You finish his statement.
Running a hand through his hair Jaehyun shakes his head. “There is one thing standing in your way, pal. You’re still married. What if she comes back? Are you going to drop everything and go back to her?”
Shit… You glance up at Mr. Suh. There is no way he will choose you over his wife, not the woman he’s stayed abstinent for…until now and certainly not the mother of his child. He’d always choose…
“I never plan to leave. I waited for two years. My life has been on hold for two years, I’m not going to let anyone make it stop again. I’ll file for divorce immediately and ask her parents to give her the papers. I should have done this already.” He wraps an arm around your waist. “It’s about time I find someone who makes me happy.”
The room goes silent once more as you wait for Jaehyun to give his blessings or walk out. His eyes roam over yours, but when he turns away the tiniest bit of a smile comes to his lips and you know that everything is going to be fine.
“Damn bro, I’m not her dad.” He chuckles.
“No, you’re just the guy who wanted to fuck me too.” You smile brightly.
“HEY!” Jaehyun shouts. “I wanted to at least take you out on a few dates first,” he clarifies, a boyish grin across his face. “But unlike this guy over here,” he gestures to Johnny. “I would have put out some towels first.”
“Really? Jokes already?” Mr. Suh rolls his eyes.
Shrugging he walks out of the kitchen and to the door, both you and Mr. Suh following behind. “Your girlfriend started it. Now just because you’re dating my best friend don’t you dare think for a second I won’t fail your ass!” He warns opening up the door. “You’ve worked this hard don’t throw it away from some —”
”And he’s leaving,” Mr. Suh shoves Jaehyun through the frame of the door.
“See you at school Mr. Jeong!” You wave goodbye.
Smirking, he gives you a small wave before leaving. “I expect high marks on your final. Don’t disappoint me.”
The next couple of weeks were rough. Every day you were grilled from the moment you arrived at Mr. Suh’s house to the moment you packed up to go home for your final exam. It didn’t matter that Mr. Suh fucked you stupid or that you squirted all over his couch and his floor, the couch needing a deep cleaning — even then you still offered to pitch in to get him a new one, but he waved off the offer. The choking, biting, blowjob, everything didn’t matter in his eyes. The only thing that mattered was you would pass Mr. Jeong’s course.
So you studied. You ignored every throb and clench of your clit and entrance when he would lean in close to you. You swallowed down the urge to climb onto his lap at the kitchen table and have him fuck you while you answered any and all math questions he threw your way. You ignored everything that your body wanted because you too wanted to pass Mr. Jeong’s class.
What you didn’t expect are your legs shaking non stop while you wait for your final exam grade. The year prior you went into your classroom, took the final exam and left — finding out later what your grade was, but not in Mr. Jeong’s class. This time you needed to meet up at the computer lab because your exam was online, your grade being tallied immediately after you finished, or so you thought.
You didn’t calculate that all of your other classmates were taking the same test, at the same time and were finishing up around the same time as you. A few people sat back and stared into space, others laid their head down until whenever they felt an appropriate amount of time passed. But you just stared at your computer screen until your eyes started to cross.
Peeking above your screen to where Mr. Jeong sat at the main desk in the room, reading a book, your eyes met his as he scanned the room. He didn’t say anything but raised his brow. Lowering back into your seat you hear a ding startling not just you but other classmates as one by one your grades are shown.
Your heart sinks to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Hands grip your shoulders from behind making you shout and quickly cover your mouth.
“I’d like to speak with you after class about your grade.” Mr. Jeong whispers.
“Uh, yes, Mr. Jeong.”
Sighing, you shake your head when he walks away checking in on other students who were still taking their exams.
Twenty minutes pass and your math final exam is over and done with. The only other class you needed to complete was a Special Education course in which you just had to turn in your observations from shadowing a teacher for a week as well as write an essay. That class, you’d actually miss, but Mr. Jeong’s… it will be a blessing if you never step foot in this room with him again!
The last couple of people pack up their things and leave the room. Mr. Jeong erases the white board before turning your way, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Would you please come up front so we can talk?”
Gathering your backpack you walk up to the front of the classroom, a chair already near the main desk waiting for you, spectacular.
“So, how bad is it?” You ask plopping down on the seat. “Give it to me straight, no sugar coating Mr. Jeong.”
“Jaehyun.” He corrects you.
”Still on campus, Mr. Jeong.”
Chuckling, he leans on the desk next to you. “Yeah, but I’m no longer going to be your teacher. So the formalities can drop when we see each other in private.”
”It doesn’t matter if you’re going to be my teacher or no —” you cut yourself off realization coming to you. “Wait… you’re not going to be my teacher anymore?”
Shaking his head, Mr. Jeong smiles. “Nope.”
“Does that mean…?”
Nodding, he takes a slip of paper from the desk and writes down your new final grade. “You have passed this class with a C-.”
“A C-?” Your eyes go from amazed to grumpy. “I thought it would have at least been a C+ borderline B…” you grumbled.
Taking one of his folders he hits you on the head with it. “Do you not know how shitty your grades were before Johnny started to help you? I’m amazed you even had a passing grade. You did well and I seriously owe Johnny a huge favor.” He snickers. “Or maybe you can just do him a favor,” he wiggles his brows.
“Mr. Jeong, I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk about your students' love life at all.”
”Damn… nothing?” He asks. Shaking your head no, he eyes you up and down. “How does that even happen? From the mess you made I would have assumed the two of you would fuck each other’s brains out every time you’re together.” He clicks his tongue. “Still hate that I sent you to him.”
Laughing, you stand up. “Like I said, Mr. Jeong, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” You bend down to meet him eye to eye. “Plus, I would mess up your apartment.”
Leaning forward his face inches from your own, “leather couch and that faux wooden flooring. Perfect at preventing scuff marks and for spills of all kinds.”
Reaching up you ruffle his hair, mess it all up and walk away. “See you around, Jaehyun.”
”You better work your ass off tonight and show him how thankful you are!”
“Sure thing!” You wave, but when you reach for the doorknob you pause. “Jaehyun,” your voice goes soft.
“Yeah?” He stands from the desk gathering his belongings.
“Thanks for the help you gave me too. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have gotten the help I needed. You didn’t need to do that. I mean you guys already have our money. Whether we fail or not… that’s up to us. But you didn’t want me to fail and I didn’t want to fail either. This passing grade goes to you as well. Please never stop helping your students.”
”My place, ask Johnny for directions and you can show me how much I helped you,” he gives you an almost similar smirk that Mr. Suh gave you, must be something they both learned. He bumps your shoulder as you both stand in front of the door. “But seriously, it’s no problem at all. It would look terrible on my record if too many students failed my class,” he places his hand over yours and makes you turn the doorknob.
“You can repay me by not breaking his heart. I can’t watch him fall apart again.”
”I would never hurt him, Jaehyun. Honest. Even if we do end up breaking up if he ever needed me…”
Pushing you out the door with his hands he closes the door behind you two. “Good. He’s a great guy and he loves hard. It’s never a game with him. If you need to go slow and take your time, which I suggest,” you both walk down the hall to the elevator. “Please just make sure that he’s never kept in the dark with your feelings. It’s not my place to say any of this, but honestly, what his soon to be ex-wife did to him… it was pretty bad.”
”I’m still trying to wrap my head around a mother leaving her child for two years without contact.”
”There are things that even Johnny and I don’t understand.”
”Jaehyun, do you think if she ever comes back Mr. Suh… Johnny will go to her without a second thought about me?” You ask, stepping into the elevator, thank heavens for it being empty aside from Jaehyun and yourself.
“I can’t say for certain if he would or would not.” He pushes the button for the first floor. “They were in love from the moment they saw each other. It was back when we were freshmen in college. Everyone on campus knew them as the “it” couple. He was in a fraternity and she was in a sorority. He played sports and she loved anything to do with the arts.
“On the outside they may seem different but when you saw them together,” the elevator doors open and you both step out heading for the main doors of the building. “It was as if they were supposed to be together. Two souls that searched the heavens and earth to be together. I’m not saying this to scare you off,” he opens one of the doors and allows you to step out into the crisp winter air.
“I know.” You whisper.
”All you need to know is that something happened. Whatever that something was, I don’t know and neither does Johnny. He’s tried to reach out to her friends and family but all they’ve said is that they can’t talk.”
”Could it have been something he did? Something he doesn’t know?”
Shrugging, Jaehyun wraps his navy blue scarf around his neck, putting his hands into his coat pockets. “It could be, but if he did do something he doesn’t know what he did.”
“It still doesn’t excuse the fact that if he did something to make her mad — she refused to speak or even acknowledge her own child for two years.”
”Which is why I’m happy you came along. I genuinely never heard or seen him as happy as he is with you for quite some time — more than two years in fact. Speaking of happiness, let's get away from this dreary subject. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
”I was going to go over to Mr. Suh’s house and hang out before meeting some friends for a girl’s night. A small get together before the winter break.”
”And you’re going back home this winter?”
Stopping in your tracks you look up at Jaehyun realizing that you never once discussed winter plans with Mr. Suh or your family. In fact, you were so busy studying you never asked him if you guys were official. If he and Lily would like to come over during the break. Would it be too early for them to meet your family?!
”Uhhhh…” your eyes start to shake.
“Calm down,” Jaehyun pats your shoulder. “Johnny and Lily visit his parents during Christmas. So there, now you don’t have to freak out.”
”Jackass…” you grumble before walking away from him.
”My suggestion,” he says, jogging up to you. “Spend New Year’s with him. He’s always at home with Lily.”
”I’ll bring everything up with him when I see him.” You reassure.
“Sure you will,” he claps you on the back before moving away from you. “I’m parked this way. Make sure you celebrate! It was nice having you in class.” He waves while heading in the direction of his car.
“Thanks for everything, Mr. Jeong!” You shout smirking as you go back to addressing him formally.
Giving you a gritted teeth smile he shouts, “your welcome!”
It wasn’t until your normally scheduled time that you head over to Mr. Suh’s. Primary and secondary schools didn’t get to go on Winter break for two more weeks, while you were free to come and go as you pleased. However, living two hours away from the University wasn’t ideal for meeting up to see Mr. Suh and even see Lily.
You needed to talk to him about what you were going to do going forward. Now that he’s no longer your tutor, you won’t need him (hopefully) while you finish out your years in school; so knowing where you two stand needs to be a topic for discussion.
Pulling onto Mr. Suh’s street, your hands start to grow clammy. You made sure to tell him as well as Jaehyun that you wanted to be the one to say what your final grade is. No secret text messages between the two of them. Face to face is what you wanted, whether you passed or failed.
Now a few houses from Mr. Suh’s you sit up in the driver’s seat to find his car is parked in the driveway. A huge smile coming to your face, but the smile soon fades. Not only was his car in the driveway, but an unknown car is parked next to him. Slowly, you park where you normally do at the end of the driveway and you put your car in park.
Taking out your phone you shoot him a quick message:
I’m outside.
There’s another car in your driveway.
Is it safe to come inside?
You wait for a reply back, but nothing. He doesn’t even look at it. Thinking it’s best to wait for a little longer, you scroll through some of the text messages and social media posts to pass the time until he hopefully answers back, but he never does.
The chill of the evening starts to creep around you, making you hug your body. It wouldn’t be rude to at least ring the doorbell and make sure that it’s either safe to come inside despite him having a guest or that you need to go back to your dorm, right?
Shaking your head, you grab your purse, phone and keys. You can’t just wait until the person inside leaves, or for Mr. Suh to pick up his phone to read the message — you’d become a human popsicle by then. Closing your car door you hesitantly make your way up the pathway to his front door. Your mind racing with a million thoughts of how this was both okay to do and rude.
But for all you know it could be a friend of his over for a quick visit before leaving, just like you. With this thought in mind you ring the doorbell and give the door a light knock. Stepping back you wait patiently for the door to open. It doesn’t take long for Mr. Suh to come to the door but instead of greeting you, he scrambles out of the door, closing it behind him.
”You can’t be here right now,” he whispers. “You need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow and you can come over.”
”I’m leaving tomorrow. I wanted to talk to you about that actually. Is someone inside?”
”Yes, but really you need to —”
”Sweetheart, what’s going on?” A female’s voice calls from the front door. “Who’s out there?”
“For the love of…” he growls. “Look, you need to go. We’ll talk after you come back from your break. But please, let me explain everything!” He turns you around to your car.
”Johnny what is going on? Who is she?” The woman’s voice sounds closer than before. Looking back you see a rather beautiful woman standing behind him. Her arms crossed over her chest, hip jutted out and eyes bouncing from you to Johnny. “Who is she?”
Stepping around Mr. Suh you walk up to her with a huge smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Mr. Suh’s student. He’s been tutoring me this semester. I just came by to tell him I passed.” Your smile falters as you turn to face him.
”Y-You did?” He searches your eyes for anything that will let him know you’re not mad at him. “That’s wonderful news.”
”Johnny’s always been the smartest man I’ve known,” the woman walks over to him linking her arm with his. “It’s one of the reasons I married him…”
cw. baby trapping, dubcon, toxic relationship (jake is obsessed).
so pretty, jake murmurs, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. in the dress he chose, the jewelry he picked. and despite his loving voice, admiring gaze, you can’t help but flinch at his touch as his hand caresses your leg beneath your dress, feeling the soft skin of your inner thighs. the skirt of your dress pulled up to reveal the wet spot in your panties, as he smiles slightly. good girl.
as if there’s anything but an option. jake never lets you outside. it’s only on occasions like this, dinner with his parents on the rare overseas visit to pretend like everything is perfect. it’s not all pretend for him, the way it is for you. in all his lovesickness, this insanity really is perfection. the doors with only one key… after the biometric scanners, the jewelry embedded with trackers. and the mark you can’t escape, the cum he’s filled you up with every chance he can, dripping into your panties from your swollen pussy, sore from only an hour ago.
his parents adore him, you even more so. the restaurant dinner should be heartwarming, romantic, as jake never lets go of your hand, always leaning in for kisses every couple of minutes, obsessed. his parents preening at how good he is to you, listening to him say words for you as you smile, your thighs rubbing together uncomfortably at the feeling of his cum seeping out into a sticky mess in your panties, the fear that they’ll see through the facade,, because jake is frightening through the lovesickness if you try and resist. but there’s something more disturbing him, as his dark gaze flits around.
not feeling well, my love? jake asks, his voice laced with concern as you shake your head, the hand tightening around your wrist. play along. and he lies to his parents with such ease, saying he’ll take you outside for a little for some fresh air. they miss the way he takes you anywhere but, the bathroom door locked behind the two of you. i don’t like it, all those people who can see you, jake’s grip bruising your wrist as he drags you towards the sink counter, his free hand holding your face, i hate it. an insanity in his gaze, as his lips press against yours.
you’re the most beautiful thing in this whole word, jake murmurs, his teeth nipping on the lobe of your ear, slowly breathing in the scent of your hair, the edge of the bathroom counter digging into your ribs as he turns you around, his body pressed up to every inch of yours, kisses pressed into your hair, cheek, the line of your jaw, hands sliding up your arms to rest on your shoulder. look at you, so perfect. the mirror reflects back to you lovers that should’ve never been, but in his rose tinted eyes, lovers that are nothing but perfect.
i don’t know what i would do without you, he sighs, i love you so much, i’m going insane… jake quietly shushing your little whimpers at the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, the slow drag of the zip of his pants following. his voice so soothing for someone so deluded, his stiff hard on pressed into you from behind, jake’s hand sliding between your legs to push them apart slightly, just enough to tug away your panties, sticky with the cum he’s left in you. rubbing your clit through your panties, fingers deftly coaxing out your slick arousal, semen seeping from your pussy down your thighs. jake, t-they’re waiting for us— you mumble, only for his free hand to push against your lips. open up, he murmurs, sighing as you hesitantly part your lips, sucking on his fingertips the way you know he wants you to, don’t think about anyone but me. you’re at his mercy, unable to resist as he coos at the way you tremble under him, remnants of cum and fresh arousal coating his fingertips.
‘til he’s satisfied as you weakly cling to the smooth countertop, his fingers pull out of your mouth. j-jake, please, you whisper, i— you begin, only for your words to be silenced by his hand over your lips, muffling your hesitation, as he slowly ruts into your ass. no, he won’t wait to ruin you. not when jake owns all of you, he doesn’t take no. spit, he instructs. good girl, his palm covered in your saliva as you reluctantly obey, the slick, lewd sound of his hand coating his cock with your spit, your dress pulled up as tears prick at your eyes, forced into his desires. his hand on the small of your back pushing you into the countertop, biting your lip to resist the moans that threaten to slip through as jake pushes into your swollen pussy, your body betraying you as your warmth sucks him in little by little, clenched tightly in need.
mm— so fucking good f’me, jake groans, his hips sharply snapping into yours roughly, thrusts loud with slaps of skin on skin. the countertop jutting into into your skin as the first tear slips down your pretty face, jake—! you whimper, shocked by the rough intensity of his urges, somewhere, pleasure ebbs with the pain, the soreness that comes with being fucked again and again. that’s right, say my name, baby, his moans laced with such lovesickness, adoration. look at you. through the blur of tears welling up, you can see in the bathroom mirror, your ruined face to him must be so pretty. and jake’s hard thrusts abusing your cute cunt, tip kissing your womb with relentless intentions.
you’re all mine, he moans, mine. gonna fill you up, yeah? full with my baby– in his deluded fantasy, you’ll be completely his. you, him, and a little family. knocked up with his babies, you’d never be able to leave. so vulnerable and reliant on him, even more than you already are,, after all, jake just wants to completely adore you, spoil you, and keep you, his perfect lover. he has so much love to give you, won’t you accept it? he’ll prove it to you, with how good he’ll take care of you and his baby. and it’ll happen sooner or later… if it hasn’t already happened, with how much he’s filled you up with his release. kisses so lovingly pressed into your shoulder, your hair, the corner of your lips. jake loves you so much, won’t you love him back the same?
your sobs freely slipping from your lips, as your body gives into release, so pleasing to him as he murmurs praises into you, ‘til hot, creamy cum fills up your abused pussy, seed filling your womb as warmth spreads beneath your skin, tummy bulging with his heavy load. mm, love you, love you, love you, he moans as your heat milks him of his release, as if your body knows what he wants. jake, you cry, as pain throbs between your thighs, pussy sore from being used again and again, bred up so full every chance he has.
my perfect doll, jake whispers, pulling out to turn you around, so vulnerable into his arms. you’re so pretty when you cry, your glossy eyes and bitten lips, so absolutely ruined. so bred full, you’ll behave for him. flinching as he slides your panties up, his fingers pressing briefly into your swollen pussy through the thin fabric, satisfied with the way it’s still wet with his cum as it seeps from your folds. kissing your lips sweetly, slow and romantic… and spitting possessively into your mouth, wiping away the remnants on your lip. jake’s fingers combing through your hair, wiping away your tears before holding to your waist, taking you back to the dinner table. and you know it doesn’t end here tonight, even when you’re constantly swollen and full with his load.
jake’s insatiable.
—
officially adding enha to the list of groups i write for !
The soft hum of a movie played in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention anymore. Hyunjin was sprawled across the couch, socked feet tangled with yours, a half empty wine glass between his fingers. His hair was a little messy, cheeks warm and red from the alcohol, and he looked too effortlessly pretty for a lazy night in.
"You really bought it", you said, holding up the black box in your hands. The label was sleek, with golden details, and completely ridiculous:
‘Tabs
Break, bite and bang’
"I had to”, Hyunjin laughed, sitting up straighter. "The guy at the shop swore it’s a ‘sensual awakening experience’. Whatever that means”. You raised an eyebrow. “You know it’s just going to be a placebo, right?” "Maybe”, he said, smirking, "Or maybe we’ll be crawling all over each other in twenty minutes". You rolled your eyes, but your face was already heating at the implication, “You say that like it's not already a bad idea risking it to happen”. He shrugged, grinning, “Exactly why it’s fun”.
The box opened with a soft snap— inside, a handful of glossy chocolates, each wrapped individually, “So we’re really doing this?” you asked, giggling nervously, “For scientific purposes”, Hyunjin said, already unwrapping his. You mirrored him, popping the piece in your mouth. Rich, dark, slightly bitter— like it had some herbal undertone you couldn’t quite place, “Not bad”, you said, licking a bit of melted chocolate off your thumb.
You didn’t miss the way Hyunjin’s eyes briefly dropped to your mouth before he quickly looked away, “You feel anything yet?”, he teased, “Nope. You?” “Is it normal that I already want to kiss you?”, he said casually, and then grinned when you turned toward him with mock offense, “Kidding. That’s probably just the wine”.
You just nodded but you were starting to notice the heat building under your skin. A low, humming warmth curling in your stomach. You shifted slightly on the couch— and when your thigh brushed his, it felt… sharper. Like a tiny spark.
You both froze.
“Did you feel that?”, you asked. Hyunjin blinked. “Yeah”. The air grew thick with something unspoken. His eyes were darker now, a little too focused on you. He licked his lips without thinking, and your heartbeat made a mess in your chest, “Okay”, you said, sitting up straighter, pretending nothing was happening. “This is fine. Totally fine” “Totally”, Hyunjin echoed. But he was already leaning just a little closer.
Well, the aphrodisiac was definitely working.
“It’s getting hot in here?!”, he said, voice too high pitched. “Maybe it's just in our heads”, you replied, voice a little too breathy, "Maybe”, Hyunjin echoed again, but his gaze had shifted to your collarbone, where your pajama had slipped slightly off one shoulder. His fingers twitched on the cushion between you, like he was trying not to reach out.
The movie still played, but neither of you had any idea what was happening on the screen anymore. You shifted again, crossing your legs, trying to get some relief— and his eyes definitely followed the motion. You swallowed, “Okay. I’m warm. Like, unnecessarily warm” "Same”, he muttered, "Is the heater on?". You both glanced at the thermostat— off. Sure.
“Okay, maybe it’s not just in our heads”. You reached for your wine glass to distract yourself, but your fingers brushed his instead. Just a light touch, accidental, harmless— except it wasn’t harmless. Not this time.
Your whole arm tingled, awareness shooting up your skin like a live wire. You glanced at Hyunjin, and he was already staring at you like you'd just set the room on fire, “Are you also feeling…” “Yeah”. You both sat there in stunned silence for a second. Then, he burst out laughing, “Oh my god. We’re idiots”. You laughed too, “This was a terrible idea” “Or a brilliant one”, he said, voice low now, a little rougher. He leaned in just slightly, and you hated how good it smelled— his cologne, his skin, the faint chocolate still on his breath.
Your stomach tightened. Your heartbeats skipped, “I swear to god, Hyunjin, if you look at me like that again…” “Like what?”, he asked innocently, but his eyes were anything but innocent. “Like you’re about to climb on top of me”. He grinned, “I’m trying really hard not to”.
That shouldn’t have been hot. It shouldn’t have sent a throb of heat between your legs. But your body was humming, needing him deeply. You tried to stand up, desperate to cool off, maybe splash some water on your face, but the moment you got to your feet, you felt dizzy, flushed, your skin hypersensitive and aching, “Okay, no. This is stupid. I need water. I need cold air. I need…”
Hyunjin stood too, standing right behind you. Suddenly, his hand landed on your waist and everything in you lit up at once. You gasped, “Oh god! Don’t touch me”. He froze in place, “I barely touched you!” “Exactly”. You looked at each other, eyes wide, panting, hearts racing like you’d just run a marathon.
Then you both broke into laughter again. Nervous, breathless, almost desperate, "This was supposed to be a joke", you said weakly. Hyunjin leaned in closer, hands still hovering your waist, “So what if it isn’t anymore?”. You didn’t answer, you couldn’t. Not when his lips were inches away, and the tension was thick at the point to be palpable.
But then, in an impulsive act, his mouth crashed into yours. Hot, frantic, greedy. Exactly the opposite of his personality, the kiss is needy, messy, starved. Your hands tangled in his hair, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get close enough, and every single nerve of yours screamed for more.
His mouth was warm and insistent against yours, and for a second, your brain short circuited. This was Hyunjin— your best friend. The same idiot who steals your fries, sleeps on your couch way too often, and knows every embarrassing story about you. But right now, all of that blurred beneath the heat of his hands and the desperate way his lips moved with yours.
You should’ve stopped it. You meant to stop it. But then his fingers found your waist again, dragging you closer, and everything rational inside you shattered. You whimpered into the kiss, your body pressing to his like it was the most natural thing in the world. His hands slid under your shirt, not even trying to be subtle now, and you gasped at the contact. Your hypersensitive skin burned under his touch.
“Fuck”, he breathed against your mouth, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, “This is… fuck, I didn’t think it’d hit this hard”. You nodded, equally breathless, “I can’t think straight. I just… Hyunjin…”. His name on your lips did something to him. He kissed you again, harder this time, hungry, messy, like he couldn’t hold back anymore. His hands roamed like he didn’t know where to start. Waist, hips, up your back, tugging you flush against him.
Your head fell back with a shaky moan as he pressed open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your throat, the edge of your collarbone, “You’re my best friend”, you said suddenly, breath hitching. His hands stilled for half a second, his lips hovering just above your skin, “I know”, he murmured, “But right now, I don’t think I can pretend I don’t want you”.
You let out a shaky laugh, part nervous, part delirious with desire, “This is gonna ruin everything” “Maybe”, he said, voice low, almost trembling, “But I’d rather ruin everything than stop touching you right now”.
It was enough for you to surrender. You pulled him back to you with a groan, your fingers threading into his hair as his mouth crashed against yours again, his hands finding every inch of exposed skin he could reach. You were both losing control fast. Clothes slipping, kisses deepening, breaths turning into ragged moans. He pressed you down on the fluffy carpet, hovering over you, eyes dark and wild with desire. “Tell me to stop”, he whispered, lips brushing yours. But you didn’t. Instead, you pulled him in closer and kissed him like you’d been waiting years.
And maybe you had.
Your clothes disappeared in a blur of kisses, breathless laughs, and trembling hands. Neither of you spoke much now, there wasn’t room for words, only the frantic pace of touch and the fire crawling under your skin. His shirt came off first, then yours. The moment his skin touched yours, you both gasped— heat meeting heat, every nerve lit up and begging for more.
Hyunjin’s lips trailed down your neck, tongue teasing against sensitive skin, teeth grazing just enough to make your back arch, “God, you’re driving me insane”, he murmured, voice deep and wrecked, like it physically hurt to hold back. “You think I’m not losing my mind too?”, you whispered, clutching at his back, nails digging into his skin as he pressed his hips down against yours.
The friction— hot, perfect, too much and not enough all at once— made your body jolt. He groaned low in your ear at the contact, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding between them to spread you wider beneath him. Your breath caught when his fingers found you, stroking slowly and deliberately. You were soaked, already aching from just kisses and heat and him. His touch was expert, sensual, gentle but with just enough pressure to make your legs tremble.
“Fuck”, he whispered, watching you melting into pleasure under him, “You’re so wet already. Is this all because of me or the aphrodisiac?” “It’s you”, you gasped, hips rolling into his hand, “It’s always been you, Hyunie”.
Something shifted in his eyes. something softer beneath the hunger, like he’d been waiting to hear that for far too long. He kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, tongue tracing yours in a rhythm that matched the movement of his fingers between your legs. You were so close already, body shaking, moaning into his mouth with every pulse of pleasure he gave you, “I wanna taste you,” he said against your lips, his voice low like a prayer.
You didn’t even get to answer before he slid down your body, eyes never leaving yours, lips trailing kisses across your stomach before settling between your thighs. The first flick of his tongue made you cry out. Your hips lifted, thighs tightened around his head as he licked you exactly like he’d dreamed of it. Like he needed it. Slow circles, teasing swipes, sucking just right until you were a panting mess, fingers tangled in his hair, begging without shame.
When you finally came, it hit hard— sharp, overwhelming, stars hit your eyelids as your whole body shook with release. He didn’t stop until you were twitching under him, your chest heaving, legs weak. And then he was back above you again, kissing you through the aftershocks, hands cradling your face like you were something precious, “I need you”, he whispered, voice barely holding together.
You reached for him, pulling him closer, “Then take me”. Without thinking twice, his body settled between your legs, skin against skin, warm and trembling with need. You could feel him hard and heavy, pressed right where you needed him most. But even now, as wild with desire as he was, Hyunjin paused. His forehead rested against yours, his breath unsteady, “This changes everything”, he whispered, “I know”, you breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek, “But I don’t care. I want you”.
That was all he needed to hear.
You felt the slow press of him entering you, inch by inch, stretching you open, filling you so perfectly it was almost unbearable. Your mouth fell open in a gasp, and his low groan echoed yours as he sank all the way in, hips flush against yours. “Fuck”, he muttered, eyes squeezed shut, “You feel so good, princess, so damn good”.
You clung to him, overwhelmed by how deep he was, how right it felt. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him even closer as he began to move— slow at first, gentle, like he was trying to savor every second of this moment. Each thrust dragged a moan from your lips, your body arching into his, nails raking down his back. He kissed you hard between each breath, each movement, a fevered rhythm of lips and hips, skin and sighs, “You’ve no idea for how long I’ve wanted this”, he said against your neck, his voice shaking.
You matched every movement with your own, matching his rhythm, anchoring him with your hands as pleasure grew tighter inside you. The friction, the heat, the way he kept whispering your name— it was everything. “I should’ve told you”, he panted, moving faster now, “Should’ve said it a long time ago” “Said what?”, you gasped, eyes fluttering, overwhelming tears rolling down your face.
“That I’m in love with you”
The words did something to you. You pulled him into a kiss so deep it stole your breath. Your response was not spoken, but felt in the way your whole body wrapped around him, the way you gave him all of you. Every thrust grew messier, more desperate until you were both on the edge.
You came again, clenching around him, moaning his name as waves of pleasure tore through you. He followed moments later, groaning against your shoulder as he buried himself deep, hips stuttering through his release, breath ragged and body trembling.
For a long moment, neither of you moved— just tangled limbs, racing hearts, sweaty skin, and the weight of everything you’d never said until now. Hyunjin’s body was warm against yours, his hand resting gently on your hip as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck. You could still feel the warmth between you both, the remnants of your shared breaths, the pulse of everything that had just happened.
He lifted his head slowly, his eyes still dark with the aftermath of what you'd just shared, but now there was something softer, something real. His thumb traced small circles on your skin, “So…”, he began, his voice low, still breathless, “That was... intense”.
You laughed softly “That’s one way to put it” “I’ve wanted this... wanted you for so long”, he said quietly, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “It wasn’t just the aphrodisiac, YN. I... I’m in love with you. And I always have been. Since the first day of elementary school”.
Your heart skipped at the confession, the weight of it settling into you like the warmth of his touch, “I know”, you whispered, brushing your fingers through his messy hair, gently tugging him back into another kiss. This one was slower, more tender with no urgency, just the soft acknowledgment of something new, something deeper.
He smiled against your lips, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, “Is this going to be weird now? Like, with everything? With us?”. You shook your head, “It doesn’t have to be weird. We’re still us. Best friends, just... with more now”. He chuckled, a little nervous, but also relieved, “You’re right. But damn, I never expected you to be that good in bed”. You rolled your eyes, hitting his arm, while he laughed “Idiot”.
He rested his head against yours, his hands gently caressing your back, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right. You didn’t need anything else.
Just him.
Just this.
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