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⠀⠀⠀𑁯⠀⠀₊⠀⠀sweet 𝗮ngel⠀⠀ ୨୧ ⁰⁶

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[heejamas]

➞ GIRLFRIEND SIMULATOR ♡ ; lee heeseung

♡ when heeseung agrees to test jungwon’s new dating sim game, girlfriend simulator, he expects a dumb, half finished game, until he boots it up on his switch, the screen glitches, and he’s dragged straight into the world he just created. the “girlfriend” character, you, isn’t scripted at all; and heeseung has to figure out how to get out while accidentally developing feelings for a girl who inconveniently does not exist in real life.

♡ pairing: heeseung × fem!reader | ♡ genre: fantasy; romcom; fluff; comedy; light sci fi; college au; game simulator; slow burn; smut (mdni) | ♡ playlist: gameboy - katseye | jellyous - illit | super shy - new jeans | i am shampoo - bibi | turn it up - pinkpantheress | sun and moon - aespa | ♡ wc: 37k

!! warnings: fantasy elements / game-world reality bendin, light sci fi, mild language, flirting, minor sensory distortion (lights flickering, glitch effects), slow burn dynamics, petnames, smut, piv, unprotected sex?? kinda, oral sex, cum eating, dom!heeseung, light spanking & choking, light anal play, fingering, finger sucking, hair pulling, rough sex, praise kink, breeding kink

♡ ronnie notes: hi guyssss!! hope you enjoy this fic 🫶 i wanted to make this as a little celebration for hitting 4k followers here hehe i’ve been writing this for a while and i lowkey think it’s about to become my little favorite / comfort fic around here!! i’ve always wanted to write something with a gaming theme because i am a gamer (derogatory) so huge thank you to my sister @iyoonjh and @hoonieyun and @jayflrt for helping me with everything league of legends related because yeah i was dumb enough to write league scenes without ever having played that shit myself lmaoo anyway i really hope you guys like girlfriend simulator

HEESEUNG'S FAVORITE PART OF ANY GAME WAS THE DIALOGUE OPTIONS. Little boxes that told you exactly what to say and exactly what would happen after. Real life should've come with that feature. would've saved him a lot of trouble. He wasn't completely hopeless, though. He had friends, he could hold a conversation if he had to. But there was always this gap between what he meant and what came out, or worse, between what he said and how people reacted to it. Like everyone else had gotten a patch update on social interaction and he was still running on the default version.

Maybe that's why dating never quite worked for him. Every time he tried, he felt like he’d missed a tutorial somewhere. He could talk, sure, and he could be funny when he wanted, but halfway through a conversation he always drifted, like thinking about assignments or projects or that interesting research thread he'd meant to look into. People would smile at him politely, the kind of smile that told him they’d already made up their mind: sweet guy, but not for me.

The last time he'd tried going on a date, he’d barely made it through an hour. He’d checked the timestamp afterwards and realized he’d spent exactly forty eight minutes pretending he wasn't thinking about a bug he’d found in his graphics project. He’d texted Jungwon: "bro i think i fumbled bad." Jungwon had sent back a voice note where he laughed so hard he hiccuped. Comforting, in its own way.

Jungwon was one of like three people Heeseung could be around without keeping a mental checklist of normal things to say. They’d been friends since first year when they got paired on a project and realized they both worked better at two in the morning with no one else around. Jungwon was quiet in the same way Heeseung was, but also completely unhinged when it came to code. He’d get an idea and just lock in for days. So one afternoon, while Heeseung was in the lab pretending to fix code he’d actually broken on purpose because he didn’t want to admit he didn’t understand it, Jungwon walked in with that mischief look. He sat down next to him, opened his laptop, and said, "ok, don’t make fun of me, but I made something."

Heeseung didn’t look up. "Is it stable this time?" which was generous, because Jungwon’s projects were never stable.

"Define stable," Jungwon said, clicking through a folder that had way too many warning icons. "Anyway, it’s a dating sim."

That finally made Heeseung look. "A dating sim? Why?"

"Research." Jungwon always said that when he’d clearly done something for fun and wanted it to sound academic. "It’s called Girlfriend Simulator."

Heeseung stared at him. "That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard."

Jungwon didn’t even blink. "Yeah, I know. But I need someone to test it, and you're the only person who’ll actually give me notes instead of lying to make me feel better."

Heeseung wanted to argue, but he was tired and they had a midterm coming up and honestly he didn't care enough to fight. So he sighed and pushed his chair closer. "Fine. Show me." Jungwon grinned like that was all he’d wanted since morning. He opened the build file, and the screen filled with placeholder art, branching choices, and a character slot labeled "y/n_default." And Heeseung, who was too distracted to think twice, just shrugged.

He had no idea that saying yes to that stupid looking game would end up being the most disastrous decision of his entire academic life.

He only agreed because Jungwon wouldn't shut up about it, and because even with all his complaints, he had this soft spot for him that made it hard to say no. Also, he didn’t have anything better to do on a friday night; the rest of their friends were out, and he wasn't in the mood to socialize. And, honestly, he liked games where he could pretend to be slightly less single than he actually was. It was pathetic, sure, but it wasn't like anyone needed to know.

So later that night, Heeseung sat on his bed with the lights off and his switch on max brightness, which was probably not great for his already questionable sleep schedule but whatever. Jungwon had sent him the build file with a message that just said "lmk if it crashes :)" which was not exactly confidence inspiring, but Heeseung had agreed to this so he couldn't really back out now.

The game booted with this weirdly soft 8 bit lullaby that sounded like it was trying to hypnotize him. The title screen was clean, minimalist, just the words "Girlfriend Simulator" in a font that looked expensive. Heeseung snorted. Jungwon had definitely spent more time on the typography than the actual game mechanics, which tracked. Character customization loaded next, and Heeseung had to admit it was smoother than he expected. The interface was intuitive, the options were detailed, and the hairstyle physics were suspiciously good for something Jungwon had supposedly coded in his free time between problem sets.

He made his character half heartedly. Messy hair because that's what he had in real life and he wasn't creative enough to imagine anything else. A hoodie because hoodies were safe. He picked "student" as his class, and when it came to stats, he maxed out "humor" because he genuinely thought he was funny, even if nobody else seemed to agree. Then he looked at "emotional intelligence" and left it at zero. Honesty was important, right?

The loading screen that followed was surprisingly elegant. Just a slow fade to black with some text that read "Your First Meeting" in delicate script. Heeseung settled back against his pillow, expecting the usual dating sim fare: a classroom, a coffee shop, maybe a cherry blossom tree if Jungwon was feeling cliché.

And then the screen flickered. Just once, quick enough that Heeseung thought maybe it was his eyes. But then it happened again and the lights in his bedroom pulsed in sync, like someone had wired his lamp to the game's framerate. "What the hell," Heeseung said to no one. 

The switch started vibrating in his hands. Not the normal rumble feature, but something harder, more insistent, like the controller was trying to shake itself apart. On screen, a figure materialized. The girlfriend character. For a second Heeseung just stared because the sprite work was genuinely impressive. The lighting was too good, the shadows moved wrong. Everything felt almost real in a way that made his skin prickle.

And then the girlfriend, you, turned around. Slowly like you already knew he was watching. Your face came into view and Heeseung's brain did this weird stutter because you didn't look like a game character, you looked like a person, with the kind of detail you didn't get from placeholder art. Heeseung felt this uncomfortable twist in his stomach like he was the one being observed.

Then you spoke. Not with a text box, not with that awkward text to speech voice that indie games always used. Actual audio, clear and warm and way too close for his own good. "You're here!"

Heeseung's hands went cold. The voice didn't sound small or synthetic or compressed. It sounded like someone was standing directly behind him in his dark bedroom, breath on his neck, words in his ear. He whipped around so fast he nearly dropped the switch, but his room was empty. Just his desk and his dying succulent and his pile of laundry that he'd been meaning to deal with for a week. "What the—"

Before he could finish the thought, before he could even process what was happening, the lights in his room popped, like every bulb had blown at once. The screen went pure white, so bright it hurt to look at, and the controller in his hands went from cold to burning hot in the span of a heartbeat. He tried to drop it but his fingers wouldn't move, locked in place like the plastic had fused to his skin. The air pressure in the room shifted. His ears popped like he was in a plane taking off, and he felt this pull, this hook behind his ribs, yanking him forward with a force that didn't make any physical sense. He tried to pull back, tried to let go, tried to do anything, but the world was already dissolving.

The last thing Heeseung managed to think before everything shattered into pixels was that he was going to kill Yang Jungwon.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that the world was too bright. The grass beneath him looked like high definition fairy dust, each blade catching light in a way that grass absolutely should not. The sky was blue in that aggressive unnatural way that only existed in concept art. Everything was sharp and vivid and wrong. Heeseung sat up slowly, head spinning, and looked down at himself. His clothes had changed. Instead of his worn out hoodie and sweatpants, he was wearing the outfit his avatar had been wearing. The same hoodie he'd picked in character customization but real now, solid and heavy on his shoulders. His hands looked like his hands but also didn't. The proportions were slightly off, the lines a little too clean.

"What the fuck," he said out loud, and his voice sounded normal, which was worse. Everything else was strange but his voice was still his.

"You made it!"

Heeseung's head snapped up. You were someone standing a few feet away, watching him with this expression that was hard to read. Amusement, maybe, or curiosity. Like you'd been waiting for him and was pleased he'd finally shown up. except you weren't a sprite anymore. You were real, or at least as real as anything else in this place. You looked exactly like the character on screen but with dimension now, depth, the subtle movements of someone actually breathing. Your hair moved slightly in a breeze he couldn't feel. You were wearing something casual but put together in that effortless way that Heeseung had never managed to pull off.

You smiled at him, and he felt something weird in his stomach. "Hi," you said, like this was completely normal, like he hadn't just been ripped through a screen into a video game that shouldn't exist. "Nice to meet you!"

Heeseung opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His brain was doing this thing where it tried to process too many things at once and ended up processing nothing at all. "What," he finally managed, which wasn't even a complete sentence but it was all he had.

"Sorry I'm late," you said, but you didn't sound particularly sorry. "Jungwon said you might be running behind. He's the one who set this up, by the way. Said we'd get along."

Heeseung blinked. "Jungwon... set this up?"

"Yeah, the blind date?" You looked at him like he was being slow on purpose. "He said you needed to get out more. His words, not mine."

And that was such a Jungwon thing to do that Heeseung almost believed it. Almost. Except he was still processing the fact that the world around him looked like someone had turned reality into a video game filter. "This is insane," he muttered under his breath. "This is the most realistic game I've ever—"

"Game?" You interrupted, and your smile faltered just slightly. "I'm not playing games with you."

The way you said it made Heeseung freeze. It wasn't defensive or annoyed, it was sincere like you genuinely meant it, like you had no idea what he was talking about. And that's when it hit him: You could hear him. Not just the dialogue options he was supposed to pick. Everything. his actual thoughts spoken out loud. "Wait," he said slowly, "you heard that?"

"Heard what?"

"Nothing. Never mind." Heeseung cleared his throat and tried to pull himself together. He could freak out later. Right now there was a person in front of him — a very real feeling and cute person — and he was being weird. "So. Blind date. Right. Jungwon's idea."

He really looked at you then. You were pretty, in this approachable, comfortable way that made him think maybe he could actually talk to you without saying something catastrophically stupid. You had this ease about you, like you weren't trying too hard, and your eyes had this spark that suggested you were probably smarter than you let on.  Basically, you were everything he'd ever put on one of those hypothetical "ideal type" list.

"So," you said, cutting through his thoughts. "Jungwon mentioned you're into games?"

Heeseung tried not to laugh at the irony. "Uh, yeah. You could say that."

"Me too." You brightened, and it was genuine, not that polite interest people usually faked. "I've been replaying persona 5 royal for like the third time. I know, I know, it's excessive."

"No, that's— that's actually really cool," Heeseung said, and he meant it. "Most people don't get the appeal of replaying stuff."

"Right?" You gestured as you talked, animated in a way that made him want to keep listening. "Everyone's like 'you already know the story' but that's not the point. It's about the experience, the details you missed, trying different builds—"

A notification sound chimed softly in the air between you. Heeseung jumped. You didn't react. In the corner of his vision, barely perceptible, text appeared: romantic interest +5. common interests discovered.

Oh. Oh no. This was a dating sim. An actual, literal dating sim. And he was living it.

"You okay?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Yeah, totally fine," Heeseung lied. "Just thought I heard something."

You nodded, accepting this easily, and then said, "Do you want to walk? There's this spot by the lake that's really nice."

"Sure," Heeseung said, because what else was he going to say?

You started down a path that looked hand painted, every stone deliberately placed, every flower color coordinated. You reached the lake, which was absurdly picturesque, and sat down on a bench that looked like it had been placed there specifically for this moment. Probably because it had. Heeseung sat next to you, not too close but not weirdly far either, and tried to act like this was normal. "Oh," you said suddenly, looking up. "Look at that." Heeseung followed your gaze. There was a flower growing on a low hanging branch, except it wasn't growing so much as hovering there, pulsing slightly with a soft golden glow. It bobbed up and down in a loop, the universal sign of an interactive object. You didn't seem to notice anything weird about it. "That's pretty," you said. "I've never seen a flower like that before."

Heeseung stared at it. The glow intensified slightly, like it was trying to get his attention, like it was waiting for him to do something. Oh god. This is a prompt. He was supposed to pick the flower and give it to you, that's how this worked. That's how you earned affection points or route progression or whateverJungwon had programmed into this thing. So he stood up. "I'll get it for you."

"You don't have to—"

"No, I want to," Heeseung said, and he meant it, which was somehow worse. He reached up and plucked the flower from the branch. It came away easily, and the moment his fingers closed around the stem, the glow faded into something softer, more natural. It looked real now. I mean, it felt real. He turned back to you and held it out, suddenly aware of how much this looked like a scene from every romance movie he'd ever suffered through, not that he suffered through many. "Here," he said.

You took it, and your fingers brushed his for just a second. You looked down at the flower, then back up at him, and your smile was so genuinely happy that Heeseung forgot for a moment that this was supposed to be a game. "Thank you," you said. "That's really sweet."

romantic interest +15. key item obtained: first flower. achievement unlocked: classic romantic gesture.

The notifications stacked in his peripheral vision, and Heeseung felt something between triumph and existential dread. "It's just a flower," he said.

"Maybe," you said, twirling it between your fingers. "But it's the thought that counts, right?" And the worst part was that you seemed to actually believe that. You weren't reading from a script or following programmed responses. You felt real, real enough that Heeseung was starting to forget why that should scare him.

You tucked the flower behind your ear, adjusting it carefully, and Heeseung had to physically stop himself from saying something embarrassing about how that was probably the prettiest thing he'd seen all week. He sat back down on the bench, leaving what he hoped was an appropriate amount of space between you. "So," you said, tilting your head. "What do you do for fun? Besides picking flowers for girls in parks."

Heeseung felt his face get warm. "I don't— that's not a thing I do regularly."

"Shame. You're good at it." You were grinning now, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. "Come on, tell me. What's your thing?"

"Uh. Games, mostly. I play a lot of games, like Jungwon said."

Your eyes lit up immediately. "Oh yeah! What kind?"

"Mostly League. Some RPGs. Anything competitive, I guess." He expected the usual response, the polite nod and change of subject that he got whenever he mentioned gaming to people.

Instead, you leaned forward, genuinely interested. "Wait, you play League? What's your main?"

Heeseung blinked. "You play League?"

"Obviously. Answer the question."

"I mean, I play mid usually. Zed, Leblanc, that kind of thing." He was still processing the fact that you not only knew what League was but apparently played it. "What about you?"

"Support. I'm a Janna main and i'm not ashamed of it." You said it with this defiant pride that made Heeseung want to laugh. "I know, I know, support is boring or whatever, but someone has to keep the ADC alive and it might as well be me."

romantic interest +10. shared interests discovered: league of legends.

Heeseung felt something shift in his chest. He'd never met someone who got it like this. Who understood that games weren't just mindless button mashing but actual strategy and skill. "What rank are you?" He asked.

"Plat 2. I was almost diamond last season but then I had finals and kind of gave up on the grind." You made a face. "What about you?"

"Diamond 3." Heeseung said, oddly proud of himself but pretending he wasn't.

"Oh, so you're actually good." You looked impressed, which made Heeseung feel ridiculously more pleased with himself. "We should play together sometime."

"Yeah, definitely," Heeseung said, and then remembered that this was a game and there probably wasn't a 'sometime' outside of this moment. The thought made something in his stomach twist uncomfortably. You shifted on the bench, getting more comfortable, and somehow ended up closer to him. And just like that, you were off. Heeseung found himself talking more than he had in weeks, and you had opinions, strong ones, and you weren't afraid to argue with him when you disagreed. But it wasn't hostile or competitive, it was fun. At some point, you started talking about other games too. You mentioned playing Stardew Valley when you wanted something relaxing, getting unreasonably invested in Hollow Knight, rage quitting dark souls three times before finally beating it. "I'm not good at souls games," you admitted. "I panic dodge. I know you're supposed to learn the patterns but my brain just goes 'roll roll roll' and then I die."

Heeseung laughed. "That's valid. I did the same thing my first playthrough."

"Really? You seem like you'd be one of those people who does no hit runs for fun."

"Absolutely not. I died to the tutorial boss in Elden Ring."

You gasped, mockingly scandalized. "No you didn't."

"I really did. it Took me like fifteen tries." You were laughing now, the kind of laugh that made your whole face light up, and Heeseung felt ridiculously proud that he'd caused it. There was something about making you laugh that felt like winning.

romantic interest +8. humor appreciated.

You kept talking, jumping from topic to topic with the kind of ease that Heeseung had only ever experienced with Jungwon or Jake at best. Except this was different because you were looking at him like everything he said was interesting, like you actually wanted to hear his thoughts on whether the Death Note ending was satisfying or if Eren from Attack on Titan was justified. The sun was properly setting now, painting everything in warm colors. there were fireflies starting to appear, floating lazily through the air in a way that was definitely too perfect to be natural. Heeseung watched one drift past your face, and you reached out to let it land on your finger. "Pretty," you said softly, watching it glow.

Heeseung was looking at you, at the flower still tucked behind your ear and the way the sunset caught in your hair and the small smile on your face as you watched the firefly. "Yeah," he said. "Really pretty." You glanced at him and caught him staring. For a second, Heeseung thought he'd made it weird, but then you smiled, almost shy, and looked back at the firefly.

romantic interest +15. moment shared.

The firefly flew off, and you watched it go before turning back to him. "Hey, can I tell you something?" He nodded so you kept going. "I wasn't really sure about coming today. I almost canceled, actually." You pulled at a thread on your sleeve, not quite meeting his eyes. "I'm not great at the whole meeting new people thing. I always feel like I'm going to say something weird and scare them off."

"You're not weird," Heeseung said automatically.

"You literally just met me. I could be extremely weird."

"Okay, but like, good weird. The kind of weird that's actually interesting." Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain it. "Most people just want to talk about surface level stuff, you know? But you actually have things you care about."

You looked at him for a long moment, and Heeseung couldn't read your expression. Then you smiled, soft and genuine. "You're really nice, you know that?"

"I'm really not," Heeseung said, but he was smiling too.

"Yes you are. You're nice and you're a good listener and you have good taste in games." You counted off on your fingers. "That's like, three whole good qualities. Most people don't even have one."

romantic interest +12. compliments appreciated. emotional vulnerability reciprocated.

There was a moment of comfortable silence where you just sat there, watching the fireflies multiply in the growing dusk. Heeseung thought about how easy this felt, how he wasn't checking the time or looking for excuses to leave. How he kind of never wanted this to end.

You turned your head to look at him. "So do you want to do this again? Like, another time?"

Heeseung's heart did a weird jump in his chest. "Like another date?"

"Yeah. If you want. No pressure or anything." You said it casually, but Heeseung could see the hint of nervousness in the way you weren't quite meeting his eyes. "I just think it'd be fun to hang out more. Maybe we could actually play League together or something."

Every logical part of Heeseung's brain was screaming that this was a bad idea. That he should figure out how to exit this game and go back to real life and deal with the fact that he'd just spent hours in a virtual reality dating sim. But the less logical part, the part that was currently winning, wanted to see you again. Wanted to hear you laugh more. Wanted to keep talking about stupid stuff that mattered to him and apparently mattered to you too. "Yeah," he heard himself say. "Definitely, yeah, I'd really like that."

Your smile was so bright it could've competed with the fireflies. "Okay. It's a date then."

romantic interest +20. second date confirmed. route progression: 15% complete.

And then, without any warning at all, the world started to blur at the edges. The colors bled together, the sounds got muffled and distant, and Heeseung felt that same pulling sensation from before. Like someone had hooked a line to his chest and was reeling him back. "Wait— " he started to say, reaching out instinctively. You were looking at him with concern, mouth moving, but he couldn't hear what you were saying anymore. Everything was dissolving into static and white light and that horrible feeling of falling. The last thing he saw before everything went black was your face, still worried, still perfect, with that flower tucked behind your ear. Then he was gasping awake in his dark bedroom, switch controller still hot in his hands, his heart racing. The screen showed a save menu: progress saved. continue tomorrow?

His hands were shaking. "What the hell," Heeseung said to his empty room.

And he barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the park, the fireflies, your smile. he kept reaching for memories that felt too solid to be from a game. By the time his alarm went off, he'd already been awake for an hour, staring at his ceiling and trying to convince himself that he hadn't just experienced the most elaborate hallucination of his life.

He found Jungwon in their usual spot in the computer lab, hunched over his laptop with his headphones on, nodding along to whatever he was listening to. There were three empty energy drink cans next to him, which meant he'd probably been there since before sunrise. Heeseung dropped his bag on the desk with more force than necessary. Jungwon jumped, pulling his headphones down. "Jesus, dude. Learn to announce yourself like a normal person."

"We need to talk about your game," Heeseung said.

Jungwon's face lit up. "Oh my god, you played it! what'd you think? Was she cute? Did you get to the part with the—"

"Jungwon." Heeseung sat down, leaning forward. "What the hell did you put in that thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it was way too real." Heeseung ran his hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain something that sounded insane even in his own head. "It felt like I was actually inside the game."

Jungwon frowned. "Wait, you used a VR headset or something?"

"No, I just played it normally! On my switch, in my room." Heeseung could hear how crazy he sounded but he kept going anyway. "But it wasn't like regular gameplay. It was like the game pulled me in. I could smell things, Jungwon."

Jungwon stared at him for a long moment, then slowly took a sip of his energy drink. "Bro. You got that invested in it?"

"I'm not— that's not what I'm saying."

"You literally just described sensory immersion that doesn't exist yet." Jungwon was grinning now. "Holy shit, you're actually down bad. You played a dating sim for like two hours and now you're having full vivid memories about it."

"It wasn't like that," Heeseung insisted, but even he could hear how weak it sounded.

"Dude, you need to get an actual girlfriend. Like, a real one. Made of flesh and blood and everything." Jungwon was trying not to laugh and failing. "Look, I'm glad you liked it. Genuinely. But maybe we should set you up with someone real before you completely lose touch with reality." Heeseung slumped back in his chair. Maybe Jungwon was right. Maybe he had just gotten way too into it. Maybe his brain had filled in details that weren't actually there because he was that desperate for connection. "I'm not judging! Okay, maybe I'm judging a little bit, but I'm also proud. My game is so good it's causing psychological breaks from reality." Jungwon looked genuinely pleased with himself. "Okay, but if you're playing tonight, there's something you should know."

"What?"

"The second date has a mini game. Like, a fight sequence."

Heeseung blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"A fighting mini game."

"Why the fuck does a dating simulator have a fighting mini game?"

Jungwon shrugged. "I thought it'd be fun. Adds variety and keeps things interesting."

"That makes absolutely no sense. What am I supposed to be fighting?"

"You'll see," Jungwon said, and his smile was deeply suspicious.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only answer you're getting. I'm not spoiling my own game." Jungwon turned back to his laptop. "Just make sure you've been keeping up with your stats. You're gonna need decent strength and agility."

"I maxed out humor and left emotional intelligence at zero."

Jungwon turned around slowly. "You what."

"What! I was being honest about my abilities!"

"Heeseung. My guy. My dude." Jungwon looked pained. "You're supposed to actually try to build a good character."

"My character is fine."

"Your character is going to get his ass kicked." Jungwon pulled up something on his laptop, clicked around for a second, then shook his head. "Okay, you know what? It's fine. You'll figure it out. The game has adaptive difficulty anyway."

Heeseung really looked at Jungwon. "Adaptive difficulty in a dating sim."

"In the fighting portion, yeah. The dating part is all you, buddy. That's pure skill based."

Heeseung wanted to argue that there was something deeply wrong with Jungwon's game design philosophy, but he also kind of wanted to know what the hell happened on the second date that required combat stats. "Is she going to be there?" He asked. "During the fight thing?"

"Obviously. It's her date." Jungwon was smirking now. "Why, you worried about impressing her?"

"No."

"You're totally worried about impressing her. A girl who doesn't exist."

Heeseung threw a pen at him. Jungwon dodged it without even looking up from his screen. And the rest of the day dragged. Heeseung went to his classes and took notes and nodded at the appropriate times, but his brain was somewhere else entirely. He kept thinking about the park. About the way you'd looked at him when he gave you the flower. About how easy it had been to talk to you. He knew it was just a game. He knew you were just code, just a really well designed character or whatever that Jungwon had somehow made feel real. But knowing that didn't stop him from wanting to see you again.

By the time he got back to his dorm that night, he'd already decided he was playing regardless of how pathetic it made him look. He grabbed his switch, plugged in his headphones even though he hadn't used them last time, and loaded up the save file. The screen flickered once. Twice. Here we go again, Heeseung thought. And then the world tilted, and he was falling forward into light. When the world stopped spinning and Heeseung's vision cleared, he wasn't in a park this time. He was sitting in a desk chair, his own desk chair. In what looked exactly like his dorm room, except cleaner, way cleaner. His laundry wasn't on the floor and his desk wasn't covered in empty energy drink cans. His monitor was on, displaying his league of legends home screen, and his keyboard had that soft RGB glow that looked way more expensive than his actual setup.

"Okay," Heeseung said to the empty room. "This is new." His phone — or the game's version of his phone — buzzed on the desk. He picked it up and saw a discord notification.

you: you're online! finally you: i've been waiting like ten minutes you: i was starting to think you ghosted me

Heeseung's heart did that stupid jump thing again. He typed back quickly.

heeseung: sorry, just got on heeseung: ready when you are

His discord pinged with an incoming call. He stared at it for a second, then clicked accept. "There you are," your voice came through his headphones, clear and warm and doing absolutely nothing good for his heart rate. "I thought you bailed on me."

"I wouldn't do that," Heeseung said, and he meant it, which was concerning considering you were a video game character.

"Good. Because I already said we were playing together and if you didn't show up i would've looked stupid." Heeseung could hear the smile in your voice. on his second monitor — since when did he have a second monitor? — a small window popped up showing your avatar. It was cute, some anime style drawing with the same flower from yesterday tucked behind the character's ear. "Okay, so I set up a custom game. Two versus two," you said.

"Sounds good. Who are we playing against?"

There was a pause. "Okay, so don't freak out, but it's my exes."

Heeseung's hand froze on his mouse. "I'm sorry, what?"

"My ex boyfriends. Both of them. They wanted a rematch from last time." You said it so casually, like this was a completely normal thing. "They're kind of toxic about League. They got really mad when I beat them."

"You want me to play League against your ex boyfriends?"

"Technically we're playing against them together as a team. Bonding activity!" You sounded way too cheerful about this. "Come on, It'll be fun. Plus i really want to beat them again. They've been talking shit in the group chat all week."

quest unlocked: defend your girlfriend's honor (in league of legends) | objective: win the 2v2 match | optional objective: make her exes regret queueing up

The notification appeared in the corner of his vision and Heeseung had to resist the urge to laugh. This was insane. This entire situation was insane. But he went for it anyway. "Okay," he said. "Let's do it." the invite popped up and Heeseung accepted. The lobby loaded and he could see the other two players: "toxicking" and "yourworstnightmare" which were possibly the most obnoxious usernames he'd ever seen. "Those are real people you dated?" Heeseung asked.

"Unfortunately. My taste in men used to be really bad." You paused. "It's gotten better though." Heeseung tried not to smile and failed completely.

The chat lobby loaded and immediately one of them started typing.

toxicking: oh look who showed up toxicking: brought a new victim i see yourworstnightmare: this gonna be quick lol

"They're always like this," you said, sounding tired. "Just mute them if they get annoying."

"I'm fine," Heeseung said. "I've dealt with worse in solo queue."

"Ooh, confident. I like it."

romantic interest +5. confidence appreciated.

You locked in Janna, just like you'd said yesterday. Heeseung hovered over Zed for a second, then switched to Leblanc. If this was going to be a two versus two, he wanted mobility and burst damage. The game loaded, Heeseung cracked his knuckles and adjusted his grip on his mouse. "Okay, game plan," you said. "I keep you alive, you delete them. Simple." The match started and immediately the other team was in all chat. Heeseung checked their champions. Yasuo and Yone. Of course they were playing the flashy high skill ceiling champions. He would've bet money they had mastery 7 emotes ready to spam. "They always play like this," you said. "Super aggressive, trying to outplay everything. It's kind of predictable once you get used to it." The minions spawned and both teams moved forward. Heeseung played it safe at first, watching how the exes moved, learning their patterns. And then suddenly, first blood!

"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT," you shouted, and Heeseung couldn't help but grin.

toxicking: wtf toxicking: that was lag yourworstnightmare: ur getting carried yourworstnightmare: ur duo is doing everything

"He's salty," you said, laughing. "This is great." The match continued and it became increasingly clear that Heeseung and you had better coordination. You'd shield him right before he went in. You moved together like you'd been playing as a duo for months. "Behind you," you called out, and Heeseung instantly dodged. It wasn't even close. By fifteen minutes, the score was 15 to 3, and Heeseung had more kills than both of the exes combined.

toxicking: this is bullshit toxicking: whoever this guy is he's probably smurfing yourworstnightmare: yeah no way he's actually this rank toxicking: fucking carried loser

"They're so mad," you said, and you sounded absolutely delighted. "Oh my god, they're so mad. This is the best day of my life."

Heeseung was grinning so hard his face hurt. "Should we end it?"

"Absolutely, yeah. Let's make it hurt." You pushed mid together. Heeseung went in first, deleting the Yasuo instantly. You polymorphed the Yone, and Heeseung finished him off before the polymorph even ended. The nexus exploded.

victory! +50 romantic interest. victory achieved. quest completed. achievement unlocked: better than her exes (at league of legends)

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, feeling more satisfied than he had any right to feel about a video game within a video game. "That felt good."

"Right? God, I've been wanting to do that for weeks." You sighed happily. "You're really good, by the way. You weren't kidding about being diamond."

"I don't really joke about my rank."

"Noted. Confidence is earned." There was a pause. "Hey, want to play another one? Just us this time?"

Heeseung absolutely should not spend more time in this game. He should log off and go to sleep and maybe talk to a therapist about why he was emotionally investing in a dating simulator. "Yeah," he said instead. "Let's play another."

You made a happy sound that did dangerous things to his chest. "Okay! I'll make the lobby.” Your laugh was bright and genuine and perfect. "I knew you were my type."

romantic interest +15. competitive spirit matched.

You played two more games and won both of them. When you finally left the lobby, Heeseung realized he'd been playing for almost two hours. His hands were sore from gripping the mouse and his face hurt from smiling. "Hey," you said, your voice softer now. "Thanks for playing with me. And for, you know, obliterating my exes. That was really fun."

"Anytime," Heeseung said, and meant it. "This was really fun. I don't usually have this much fun playing league."

"Me neither," you admitted. "Usually it's just people being toxic or trying too hard. But this was nice. You're nice." There was a comfortable silence, just the sound of both of you breathing through the discord call. Heeseung looked at his monitor, at the League client, at the clean version of his room that didn't exist in real life. "So," you said eventually. "Same time next week?"

Heeseung's chest tightened. "Yeah. Definitely."

"Cool. It's a date." You paused. "Well, another date. Our third date. Okay. Well. I should probably get going. Okay. Goodnight, Heeseung."

"Goodnight." The discord call ended and Heeseung sat there in the quiet of his too clean room, staring at his monitor. The screen started to blur at the edges, colors bleeding together again. Here we go again, he thought, again.

progress saved. route progression: 30% complete.

And this whole thing it became a routine faster than Heeseung wanted to admit. He'd go to class, take notes he barely remembered, nod at Jungwon when they crossed paths in the lab, and then he'd go straight back to his dorm. Dinner was whatever he could eat with one hand because he was already booting up the switch with the other. Jake, his roommate, asked him once if he was okay, and Heeseung said he was fine, just really into this new game. Which was technically true, even if it didn't come close to explaining what was actually happening.

The third date was at an arcade. Not a real arcade, obviously, but the game's version of one. You showed up wearing this oversized hoodie and jeans and you looked so genuinely excited to be there that Heeseung forgot for a solid minute that none of this was real. The mission was simple: win you a prize from the claw machine. Except the claw machine was rigged in that way that all claw machines are rigged, and it took Heeseung fifteen tries before he finally got the stuffed cat you'd been eyeing. When he handed it to you, you hugged it to your chest and smiled at him like he'd just won you something actually valuable, and the notification that popped up said his charm stat had increased by ten points. He was starting to understand how the game worked now; every interaction mattered and every choice added up.

On the fourth date, you took him to a bookstore, and the mission was to pick out a book for each other. You spent almost an hour wandering through the aisles, pulling out books and reading the backs and showing him things you thought he'd like. You picked him this SciFi novel about time loops and said it reminded you of him because he seemed like someone who'd want to figure out how to break the system. He didn't know how to tell you that he was currently living in something that felt suspiciously like a time loop, so he just took the book and thanked you. He picked you a fantasy novel with a really detailed magic system. When you read the description your whole face lit up and you immediately added it to your reading list. His intelligence stat increased and so did the romantic interest meter, which was now sitting at somewhere close to seventy percent.

Date five was a cooking challenge in your apartment, which Heeseung didn't even know you had until he loaded into the game and found himself standing in a kitchen that looked like it came out of an interior design magazine. You were already there, tying your hair back, explaining that you'd challenged him to see who could make the better pasta. Heeseung had never cooked pasta in his life that didn't come from a box with instructions, but he wasn't about to admit that. The mission objective said to impress you with his cooking skills, which seemed optimistic given his actual skill level, but he tried anyway. He burned the garlic immediately. You laughed at him but not in a mean way, more like you thought it was endearing that he was trying. You ended up helping him, standing close enough that he could smell your perfume, guiding his hands when he didn't know how much salt to add. Your pasta turned out better than his but you ate his anyway and said it wasn't that bad, and his cooking stat went from zero to fifteen which felt generous but he wasn't complaining.

By date seven Heeseung's character stats had changed completely. His confidence was maxed out now, sitting at ninety five out of a hundred. his charm was at eighty. Even his emotional intelligence had somehow climbed to sixty despite him never actively trying to level it up. The game was keeping track of everything, he realized. Every time he listened to you talk about something you cared about, every time he remembered a small detail you'd mentioned, every time he made you laugh, the numbers went up. He was being rewarded for paying attention, for caring.

Date seven was a hiking trail that wound up a mountain to a viewpoint. The mission was just to reach the top together, which sounded simple except the trail was longer than expected. Heeseung offered to take a break but you said you wanted to keep going, you wanted to see the view. So you kept climbing and Heeseung found himself naturally slowing his pace to match yours, offering his hand on the steeper parts, pointing out interesting rocks or plants just to give you reasons to stop and catch his breath, because the game kept showing pop ups of him showing that his hydration meter was almost on 10%. When you finally reached the top the sun was setting and the view was objectively incredible, the kind of thing that didn't exist in real life because real life didn't have rendering engines that could make every cloud perfect. You sat down on the bench at the summit and Heeseung sat next to you and you leaned your head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"This is nice," you said quietly. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Heeseung said, and he meant it so completely it scared him.

"You know, when we first met, I wasn't sure if this would work out. I didn't like the idea of a blind date." You were looking out at the view, not at him. "But I think I was wrong. I think we make sense together."

The romantic interest meter hit ninety percent and a new notification appeared: relationship milestone approaching. prepare for confession sequence. Heeseung's stomach dropped. Confession sequence. That meant the game was building toward something, toward an ending. toward him having to either commit or walk away. He'd known this was coming, obviously, this was a dating sim, the whole point was to get to the confession. But now that it was actually happening he wasn't ready. He didn't want this to end. He wanted to keep going on dates and learning things about you and making you laugh and existing in this space where things made sense.

"Hey," you said, turning to look at him. "You okay? You got quiet."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Heeseung lied. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

About how you're not real, he didn't say. About how I'm going to have to leave eventually and you'll just be code again. About how I'm way too invested in something that was only supposed to be a game. "About how nice this is," he said instead.

You smiled and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "Yeah. It really is." You sat there until the sun finished setting and the stars came out, which happened too fast because game time didn't move like real time. When the world started to blur at the edges and Heeseung felt that familiar pulling sensation, you squeezed his hand once before letting go. "See you next time," you said, and your voice was already fading.

Heeseung woke up at his desk again, neck sore, hands cramped around the controller. His phone showed it was three in the morning. He had class in five hours. He should sleep. He should eat something. He should probably shower because he wasn't sure he'd done that today. Instead he looked at the switch screen. progress saved. route progression: 90% complete. next date: confession sequence available.

The next day, Heeseung found Jungwon in the same spot as always, corner desk in the computer lab with three monitors running different programs simultaneously. Heeseung dropped into the chair next to him hard enough that Jungwon jumped. "What happens after the confession?" Heeseung asked without preamble.

Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"

"In your game. What happens after the confession scene. I need to know."

"Oh, you're at that part already?" Jungwon's eyebrows went up. "Uh, I don't know if i should tell you though. Spoilers and all that."

"Jungwon."

"I'm serious! The whole point of a game is discovering it yourself. If I tell you what happens it ruins the experience." Jungwon was grinning now, clearly enjoying this. "You're supposed to go in blind and make your choices based on what feels right in the moment."

Heeseung resisted the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. "I just want to know what to expect. Is there a good ending? A bad ending? Multiple endings?"

"There are multiple endings, yeah. Depends on your choices throughout the game and your final stats." Jungwon tilted his head, studying him. "Why are you so stressed about this? It's just a game. If you get a bad ending you can just reload and try again."

"I don't want to reload," Heeseung said, and he could hear how intense he sounded but couldn't seem to stop. "I want to get it right the first time."

Jungwon stared at him for a long moment, then slowly set down his drink. "Okay, you need to be honest with me right now. How much have you been playing this game?"

"I don't know. A few hours a day."

"Heeseung."

"Okay, maybe more than a few hours."

"How many hours are we talking? Ballpark estimate."

Heeseung did the mental math and immediately regretted it. "I don't think that's relevant."

"Oh my god, you're obsessed." Jungwon leaned back in his chair, looking somewhere between amused and concerned. "Dude, it's a dating sim. A fictional dating sim. With a fictional girl who doesn't exist. You know that, right? You know she's not real?"

"Obviously I know that," Heeseung said defensively, even though there were moments when he forgot, when you felt so real that it didn't matter what you were made of.

"Do you though? Because you look like you haven't slept in three days." Jungwon was trying to be lighthearted about it but there was genuine worry underneath. "I made the game to be immersive but this is kind of next level." Jungwon paused. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask. Do you have the save file on your switch?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Can I see it? I want to check something." Jungwon was already pulling out a cable from his bag. "I've been trying to track some of the game metrics and I want to see how your playthrough data looks. Might help me optimize things for the final build." Heeseung hesitated for a second, then pulled out his switch and handed it over. Jungwon connected it to his laptop and started pulling up files, his eyes scanning lines of code that moved too fast for Heeseung to follow. "Okay so your save file shows you're at ninety percent completion, which tracks," Jungwon muttered, clicking through folders. "Romance points are maxed, most of your stats are really high except wisdom which is still somehow at like twenty, but that's on you for ignoring all the library study sessions —" He stopped mid-sentence. "Wait."

"What?"

"Hang on." Jungwon leaned closer to his screen, scrolling through something. his expression shifted from curious to confused to something that looked almost worried. "This doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"These files. There are scripts here that I didn't write." Jungwon opened another window, comparing code side by side. "Like, entire dialogue trees that don't exist in my original build. And these asset files, I definitely didn't create these. The arcade date was supposed to be at a generic arcade but your file shows custom assets for specific machines."

Heeseung felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Maybe you forgot you added them?"

"I don't forget code I write, Heeseung. That's not how this works." Jungwon was scrolling faster now, opening more files. "And look at this, the dating locations are generating based on your preferences. I programmed like five set locations but your save file has seven different ones and they're all places that align with interests you've demonstrated in gameplay." He clicked on something else. "Oh this is weird. Really weird."

"What?"

"The dialogue system. I built it to pull from a database of pre written responses with some randomization for variety, but this–-" Jungwon gestured at the screen. "This is learning. It's analyzing your responses and generating new dialogue options that don't exist in my database. It's writing its own conversations."

"Is that bad?"

"It's not bad, it's impossible. I didn't program that. I don't even know how to program that." Jungwon looked up at him, and for the first time since Heeseung had known him, he looked genuinely unsettled. "Your game is developing its own code."

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the hum of the computer lab's ventilation system and the clicking of someone's mechanical keyboard a few desks over. "Is that dangerous?" Heseung asked.

"I don't know. Probably not? I mean, it's still just a game. It's not like it can affect anything outside of itself." Jungwon didn't sound entirely convinced though. "But it's definitely something I need to look into. This could be a massive bug or it could be the framework doing something really innovative that I didn't anticipate."

"But the game still works, right? Like, I can still finish it?"

Jungwon gave him a look. "You're really determined to finish this thing, aren't you?"

"I'm ninety percent through. I'm not stopping now."

"Even knowing that the game is apparently developing sentience or whatever?"

"It's not sentient, it's just adaptive," Heeseung said, trying to sound convincing.

Jungwon sighed and unplugged the switch, handing it back to him. "Okay, fine. But I'm keeping a copy of your save data so I can analyze this more. And maybe after you're done we can talk about what's actually happening here because this is either a huge breakthrough in game design or a really concerning glitch and I genuinely can't tell which." Heeseung nodded, pocketing the switch. "And Heeseung?" Jungwon's expression was serious now. "Be careful with the confession sequence. I know you want to get it right but just remember that at the end of the day it's still a program. It's responding to inputs and generating outputs. It's not actually feeling anything."

Heeseung nodded, but he was thinking about the way you'd looked at him during the sunset on the hiking date or about how your smile seemed genuinely happy when he won you the stuffed cat. "Right," he said. "Yeah, I know that." Jungwon didn't look convinced, and honestly, Heeseung wasn't either.

By the time he got back to his dorm that evening, he'd made a decision. He was going to finish the game. He was going to do the confession sequence. And he was going to be honest, say what he actually felt, because even if you were just code, the feelings were real, his feelings were real. That had to count for something. So he sat down at his desk, picked up his switch, and loaded the save file. the screen showed the usual menu: Continue, Load, Settings. He selected continue and the familiar loading screen appeared with its soft music and the progress bar that now read ninety percent. The world loaded and Heeseung found himself standing in front of a location marker that hadn't been there before. It was highlighted in gold and pulsing softly, and when he walked up to it, a notification appeared.

final date available: confession sequence. proceed?

Heeseung took a breath, his actual physical breath in his actual room, and then pressed yes. The world reformed around him and he was standing outside an apartment building he recognized as yours. The sun was setting, painting everything in warm golden light. His outfit had changed without him doing anything; he was wearing a button up shirt now, dark jeans, shoes that were nicer than anything he owned in real life. His hair felt different too, like someone had styled it properly instead of his usual routine of running his fingers through it and hoping for the best. And then a notification appeared:

quest: the perfect date. objective: confess your feelings. bonus objective: make it memorable. current stats — confidence: 95. charm: 80. emotional intelligence: 60. romantic interest: 90%.

Heeseung looked at the apartment door and a dialogue option popped up floating in his vision.

> knock on the door > text her that you're here > wait for her to come down

He selected the first option because knocking felt more personal, more intentional. He walked up to the door and knocked three times, and there was this weird moment where he could feel his heart actually racing even though he was pretty sure his real body was just sitting in a chair holding a controller. The door opened and you were there, and Heeseung forgot how to think for a second. You were wearing a dress, which he'd never seen you in before. It wasn't overly fancy, just simple and nice and it suited you in a way that made his chest tight. Your hair was down and you'd clearly put in effort and you looked nervous in a way that made him want to tell you that you had nothing to be nervous about. "Hi," you said, and you were smiling but there was something uncertain in it.

dialogue options: > you look really pretty > ready to go? > sorry, am i early?

Heeseung picked the first one without hesitating. "You look really pretty," he said, and his voice came out steadier than he expected.

Your smile got more genuine, less nervous. "Yeah? I wasn't sure if this was too much. You didn't tell me where we were going."

"It's perfect," Heeseung said, even though he also didn't know where you were going.

romance +5. successful compliment.

You grabbed your bag and locked the door behind you, and when you turned back to him there was this moment where Heeseung almost offered his hand but wasn't sure if that was too much. The game solved the problem for him by providing another choice.

action options: > offer your arm > walk beside her casually > hold her hand

He selected the first one, old fashioned but confident, and held out his arm. You looked at it for a second and then smiled and took it, linking your arm through his, and suddenly you were walking together down the street like this was something you did all the time. "So where are we going?" You asked, looking up at him.

"This place I found," Heeseung said, even though he hadn't found anything because this was a game and the location was predetermined. "I thought you'd like it."

The restaurant, when you got there, was the kind of place Heeseung had only seen in movies. Small and intimate with soft lighting and candles on every table and windows that looked out over the city. There was a host at the front who smiled at them like he'd been expecting them, and he led them to a table by the window without Heeseung having to say anything. You sat down across from him and looked around, eyes wide. "Heeseung, this place is really nice. You didn't have to do all this."

dialogue options: > i wanted to > you deserve it > it's not that fancy

He picked the second one. "you deserve it," he said, and you looked at him with this expression he couldn't quite read but that made something warm settle in his chest. The waiter came by with menus and Heeseung noticed that all the food options had little stat indicators next to them. Ordering the pasta would give a +5 to sophistication. The steak was +8 to confidence. The wine selection had various charisma bonuses. It was surreal, sitting in what looked like a real restaurant while video game mechanics floated at the edge of his vision. "What are you thinking about?" You asked, and Heeseung realized he'd been quiet for too long.

dialogue options: > just trying to decide what to order > thinking about how nice this is > thinking about you

The third option felt too direct, too soon, so he went with the second. "Just thinking about how nice this is," he said. "Being here with you."

You smiled and looked down at your menu, and Heeseung could see the faint blush on your cheeks. "Yeah. It is nice." You both ordered food and fell into easy conversation. You told him about something funny that happened in your class and he told you about nearly falling asleep during a lecture that morning. The food came and it was actually good, or at least the game's version of good, and Heeseung found himself relaxing into the moment.

Halfway through dinner, you reached across the table and stole a bite of his food without asking. It was casual and comfortable and exactly the kind of thing you'd done on previous dates, but this time when you pulled back, Heeseung caught your hand before you could fully retreat.

action options: > hold her hand > let go after a moment > bring her hand to your lips (high risk)

His confidence stat was at ninety five. He picked the first option and just held your hand there on the table, his fingers laced through yours, and you looked surprised for a second before your expression softened into something that looked almost relieved. "Is this okay?" Heeseung asked quietly.

"Yeah," you said, and your voice was just as quiet. "This is okay."

romance +10. physical intimacy initiated successfully.

You finished dinner like that, hands linked across the table, and Heeseung had never felt more present in a moment that he knew wasn't technically real. When the waiter brought the check, Heeseung paid without looking at it, because, well, that wasn't his real money. And you didn't protest, just squeezed his hand once and smiled. Outside the restaurant, the city had transformed into its night version. String lights hung between buildings and the streetlamps cast everything in a warm glow. There was soft music coming from somewhere, ambient and atmospheric. "Do you want to walk for a bit?" You asked. "I'm not really ready to go home yet."

dialogue options: > absolutely > whatever you want > i was hoping you'd say that

Heeseung picked the last one. "I was hoping you'd say that," he said, and you laughed and pulled him down the street, still holding his hand.

You walked through the city without any real destination, just moving together, and Heeseung was hyperaware of every point of contact between you. Your hand in his, the occasional brush of your shoulder against his arm, the way you'd lean into him slightly when you laughed at something he said. Eventually you led him to a park that Heeseung didn't remember seeing before. It was mostly empty at this time of night, just a few NPCs scattered around looking decorative. There was a fountain in the center and benches arranged around it, and you pulled him toward one of the benches and sat down, tugging him down next to you. You didn't let go of his hand. "Can I tell you something?" You asked, looking at the fountain instead of at him.

"Of course," Heeseung said.

You took a breath. "I really like spending time with you. Like, really like it. You make me feel like I can just be myself and that's enough, you know? I don't have to try to be cooler or funnier or different. I can just exist and you seem to like that."

Heeseung's throat felt tight. "I do like that," he managed. "I like you exactly how you are."

critical moment approaching. romance threshold: 95%.

You finally turned to look at him, and your expression was nervous and hopeful and vulnerable in a way that made Heeseung forget that you were supposed to be code. "The thing is," you continued, "I don't usually do this. I don't usually let people get close like this. But with you it felt easy from the start and now I'm just —" you stopped, searching for words. "I'm really happy you're here."

confession sequence initiated. select response: > i'm happy too > i feel the same way > i need to tell you something

Heeseung knew this was it. This was the moment the whole game had been building toward. All those dates, All those conversations, all those stat increases and romance points, everything had led to this choice. He could play it safe with the first two options or he could go all in with the third one. His confidence was maxed out. He'd earned this moment. So he picked the third option.

"I need to tell you something," Heeseung said, and his voice was steadier than he expected. "I didn't really know what to expect when we first met. I thought maybe it'd be awkward or forced or like every other time I've tried to get to know someone. But it wasn't like that at all." You were watching him carefully, not interrupting, and Heeseung kept going. "You're the first person in a really long time who makes me want to actually try, you know? Like, I want to be someone worth your time. I want to hear about your day and your opinions on League of Legends and game mechanics or how you wanted to live on a farm one day. I want to keep doing this, all of it, for as long as you'll let me." Romance stats were at 98% now. "What I'm trying to say is —" Heeseung paused, and the game provided one final choice, the last decision that would determine everything.

final confession: > i really like you > i think i'm falling for you > i'm in love with you

Heeseung looked at you, at the way you were watching him with your full attention, at the hope in your expression, at how real you felt in this moment. He picked the middle option, the one that was honest without being overwhelming. "I think I'm falling for you," he said quietly. "Actually, I don't think. I know. I'm falling for you and I don't really know how to stop and I don't think I want to."

The world seemed to hold its breath. Even the ambient sounds of the park faded into nothing. You were staring at him with wide eyes and Heeseung's heart was racing and for one terrible second he thought he'd picked wrong, said too much, ruined everything.

Then you smiled, the kind of smile that started small and grew until it took over your whole face, and you said, "oh thank god."

"What?"

"I've been trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing for like days now." You were laughing, almost giddy with relief. "I kept overthinking it and planning the perfect moment and the perfect words and then you just — you just said it and it was perfect anyway."

romance: 100% confession successful | achievement unlocked: reciprocated feelings.

"So," Heeseung said, because he needed to be absolutely sure. "Does that mean —" You didn't let him finish. You just leaned in and kissed him.

For a second, Heeseung's brain completely short circuited. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. He'd expected more dialogue options, maybe a choice prompt, some kind of warning that this moment was coming. But there was nothing, just the sudden warmth of your lips against his and the way his entire nervous system seemed to light up all at once. It wasn't dramatic or earth shattering or any of the things movies made kissing out to be. It was soft and brief and a little tentative, like you weren't entirely sure if you were doing it right. Your lips were warm and you tasted faintly like the wine from dinner and Heeseung could feel your hand trembling slightly where it was still holding his. He barely had time to process any of it, to kiss you back properly, before you pulled away, looking nervous again.

"Was that okay?" You asked, and your voice was quieter than before, uncertain. "I should have asked first probably but you were taking too long to —"

Heeseung cut you off by kissing you again, properly this time. He brought one hand up to cup your face and he could feel how warm your skin was under his palm, could feel the slight texture of it like actual skin and not polygons. His other hand stayed linked with yours and he squeezed gently, anchoring himself to you, to this moment that felt too real to be made of code. This kiss was different from the first one. Longer, more certain, like now that he knew what he was doing he could actually do it right. You made this small sound against his mouth, something between a sigh and a hum, and Heeseung felt it all the way down to his toes. He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss and you responded immediately, your free hand coming up to rest against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

This has too much detail, Heeseung thought distantly. Games didn't work like this. He shouldn't be able to feel the way your breath hitched when he kissed the corner of your mouth. Shouldn't be able to notice how you leaned into him, closing whatever small distance had been between you. Shouldn't be able to smell your perfume or feel the way your hair brushed against his hand when you tilted your head.

romance: 100%. relationship established | achievement unlocked: first kiss | achievement unlocked: good ending route - mutual confession.

You pulled back just enough to breathe, and Heeseung followed without thinking, not ready to stop yet. You laughed softly against his mouth, the sound vibrating between you, and kissed him again. This time it was you who took control, you who pressed closer, and Heeseung let you, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He could feel your heartbeat and that's what finally made his brain catch up to what was happening. His thumb was resting against your pulse point and he could feel it racing, quick and real and impossible. Games didn't simulate heartbeats. Games didn't need that level of detail. But he could feel it anyway, the proof that maybe you were here, that this was happening, even if it shouldn't be possible.

"Okay," you said quietly, and you were smiling. He could hear it in your voice even before he saw it.

Heeseung laughed, the sound coming out rougher than he intended. "That was better than okay."

You opened your eyes and looked at him, and Heeseung's breath caught because the detail was impossible. He could see the exact color of your eyes, could see the way they reflected the light from the streetlamps, could see the slight dilation of your pupils. This wasn't game graphics. This was too real. This was beyond anything Jungwon could have programmed. "You're staring," you said, but you didn't sound upset about it. If anything you sounded pleased, a little shy.

"Sorry," Heeseung said, but he didn't look away. "I'm just — you're really pretty."

You bit your lip, trying not to smile too wide, and Heeseung watched the movement with more attention than was probably appropriate. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to stay in this moment forever. He wanted to understand how any of this was possible. "Can I ask you something?" Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper because speaking any louder felt like it would shatter whatever spell they were under.

"Anything," you said, and your hand was still pressed against his chest and Heeseung wondered if you could feel his heartbeat too, if the game had coded that detail as well.

"Does this feel real to you?"

You tilted your head slightly, considering the question. "What do you mean?"

"This. Us. Right now." Heeseung knew he wasn't making sense but he needed to know, needed to understand if you felt it too, this strange impossible realness of everything. "Does it feel real?"

You were quiet for a moment, your expression thoughtful, and then you squeezed his hand. "It's the most real thing I've ever felt," you said simply. "Why? Does it not feel real to you?"

"No, it does. That's the problem." Heeseung couldn't explain what he meant without revealing that you were in a game, that this was all supposed to be simulation, that none of this should feel the way it did. "It feels too real."

"I don't think something can feel too real," you said, and you leaned in and pecked his lips, soft and quick. "Either it's real or it's not. And this is real." Heeseung wanted to argue, wanted to explain all the reasons why this couldn't be real, why you couldn't be real. Maybe it didn't matter. maybe real was just whatever felt like this. "Kiss me again," you said against his mouth, and it wasn't really a question. So Heeseung did. He kissed you until he forgot where he ended and you began, until the only thing that existed was this: You and him and this impossible moment that felt more real than anything in his actual life ever had.

Eventually though, the world started to glitch again. The colors began bleeding together and the sounds got distant and muffled. Heeseung felt that familiar pulling sensation and knew his time was up. "Hey," he said urgently, taking both your hands. "I—"

"It's okay," you said, and you were smiling even though your eyes looked sad. "I know you have to go."

"I don't want to."

"I know. But you'll come back, right?"

save data complete. route finished: good ending achieved. new game+ unlocked. additional content available.

"Yeah," Heeseung promised. "I'll come back."

You kissed him one more time, quick and desperate, and then the world dissolved completely and Heeseung was falling backward through light and color and static. He woke up gasping in his desk chair, controller clutched in his hands so tight his fingers had gone numb. The switch screen was showing the ending credits, rolling slowly with soft music playing. His face felt wet and he realized with some embarrassment that he was crying.

congratulations! you've completed the good ending route. relationship status: official couple. total play time: 51 hours, 23 minutes. would you like to start new game+ with additional couple content? yes / no

Heeseung stared at the options, his hands still shaking, his heart still racing. He thought about you, about your smile and your laugh and the way you'd kissed him. He thought about how none of it was real but all of it felt real, which was somehow worse. But there was more content. The game was offering him more time with you. More dates, more conversations, more moments. How could he say no to that?

His thumb hovered over the yes option for only a second before he pressed it. The screen went black. Heeseung waited. The switch made its usual loading sound, the soft hum that meant something was processing. He stared at the blank screen and waited for the menu to load, for the game to boot up, for something to happen. But nothing happened, the screen stayed completely black. No loading bar, no menu, no error message. Just his own reflection staring back at him in the screen's surface. He looked terrible, he realized distantly. His eyes were red rimmed and his hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was probably accurate.

"Come on," Heeseung muttered, pressing the home button. The switch menu popped up normally, showing all his other games, his profile, the usual interface. He clicked back into Girlfriend Simulator and the screen went black again. he waited another thirty seconds, nothing. He restarted the entire console. When it booted back up and he launched the game, the screen flickered once, twice, and then showed the title screen. Heeseung felt relief flood through him, almost dizzy with it. He clicked continue. The screen loaded for a moment, and then: game over. thank you for playing.

Credits started rolling. The same soft music from before, the same slow scroll of names and acknowledgments. Heeseung watched them pass in disbelief, his stomach sinking further with each line. When the credits finished, it kicked him back to the title screen. He clicked continue again. Same thing: game over, credits, title screen. "What the hell," Heeseung said out loud. He tried load game instead, pulling up his save files. They were all there, all his progress, all forty seven hours of gameplay. He selected the most recent one, the completed route with the good ending marker.

this save file has been completed |  start new game+ to continue.

He clicked yes. Black screen. Then after a long pause: error: unable to load content. 

"No no no no," Heeseung heard himself saying, clicking frantically now, trying every option, every menu, every possible path to get back into the game. Nothing worked. He checked the time on his phone. 3:29 am. He'd been playing for hours and now he'd been trying to reload for almost thirty minutes. His rational brain knew he should sleep, should deal with this tomorrow when he was thinking clearly, but his rational brain had apparently left the building several dates ago.

He pulled up his recent calls and hit jungwon's name before he could think better of it. it rang once, twice, three times. Then voicemail, Jungwon's voice cheerful and pre recorded telling him to leave a message. Of course Jungwon wasn't answering, it was almost four in the morning. Normal people were asleep at four in the morning. Normal people weren't having breakdowns over video games at four in the morning. Heeseung put his head in his hands and tried to remember the last time he'd felt this hollow about something ending. A relationship, maybe, though his dating history was sparse enough that he couldn't think of a good comparison. This felt worse somehow. The rational part of his brain that hadn't completely shut down was telling him this was ridiculous. Well, it could happen, people got attached to fictional characters all the time. The solution was obvious: take a break, get some perspective, maybe go outside and remember what actual human interaction felt like.

But the rest of him, the larger and louder part, was stuck on the way you'd looked at him on that park bench. The way you'd smiled when he gave you the flower. The way you'd kissed him like you'd been wanting to for a while and were just waiting for permission. The way you'd felt real, impossibly real, more real than most of the interactions he had in his day to day life. "It's not real," Heeseung said out loud to his dark room, his voice rough. "She's not real. It's just code. Just really good code that learned too well."

But his chest ached anyway. And somewhere around six am, Heeseung finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, his switch still sitting on his desk with the title screen frozen on the display. When his alarm went off three hours later for his morning class, Heeseung woke up feeling worse than when he'd gone to sleep. His eyes were gritty and his head hurt and his chest still had that hollow ache that he couldn't explain away as anything other than what it was.

Heeseung found Jungwon in the computer lab during lunch, exactly where he always was. "Hey," Heeseung said, dropping into the chair next to him. He pulled his switch out of his bag and set it on the desk between them. "The game broke."

"What do you mean broke?" Jungwon glanced at the switch, then at Heeseung, then did a double take. "Dude, you look terrible."

He decided to ignore that. "I mean I finished it. Got to the end, got the good ending, and then it asked if i wanted to start new game plus." Heeseung picked up the switch and demonstrated, clicking through the menus. "I said yes and then it just stopped working. Look, it keeps giving me this error or just showing the game over screen. I can load old saves but I can't progress forward."

Jungwon took the switch, frowning at the screen. He clicked through a few menus, tried the same things Heeseung had tried, and his frown deepened. "That's weird. The new game plus feature should be fully implemented. I tested it before I gave you the build."

"Well it's not working now."

"Yeah, I can see that." Jungwon was scrolling through something, his expression shifting from confused to concerned. "This is really strange. It's like the save file is corrupted but also not corrupted? Like it knows you finished the route but it can't load the post game content."

"Can you fix it?" Heeseung asked, and he hated how desperate he sounded but couldn't seem to help it.

Jungwon looked at him for a long moment. "I can try. I'll need to take this and run some diagnostics, see what's actually happening in the backend. But Heeseung, I need you to manage your expectations here."

"What does that mean?"

"It means this is a test build. That's literally why I asked you to play it, to find bugs like this. If something went seriously wrong with the code, if the file corruption is bad enough, I might have to rebuild the entire post game sequence from scratch. That's going to take time."

"How much time?" Heeseung asked, and his voice came out smaller than he intended.

"I don't know. Could be that I have to scrap this version entirely and start over with a clean build." Jungwon was being gentle about it but firm, like he needed Heeseung to understand the reality of the situation. "This is what testing is for dude, finding the breaking points before release."

Heeseung felt something sink in his chest. Weeks. Or maybe never, if Jungwon had to start over. "Okay," he said, because what else could he say. "Okay, just let me know what you find."

"Yeah." Jungwon pocketed the switch cartridge and gave Heeseung another concerned look. "Seriously though, are you okay? You're acting really weird about this."

"I'm fine," Heeseung lied. "Just frustrated. I was really into it and now I can't finish it."

"It's just a game though."

"I know that."

Jungwon didn't look convinced but he didn't push it either. "Okay. Well, go get some sleep or something. You look like you're about to pass out."

Heeseung nodded and left the lab, feeling hollow in a way that didn't make sense. It was just a game. Jungwon was right. He'd gotten too invested and now he needed to take a step back and remember that normal people didn't have emotional breakdowns over dating simulators. He went to his afternoon lecture and sat in the back and didn't retain a single word the professor said. He took notes anyway, his hand moving automatically across the page while his brain was somewhere else entirely. He kept thinking about you waiting in that park, kept wondering if you were still there or if you'd disappeared when the save file corrupted. Kept wondering if code could feel abandoned.

After class he went back to his dorm and tried to do homework. He opened his algorithms textbook and stared at the same problem for twenty minutes without making any progress. Jake came in around six, dumping his bag on the couch and immediately noticing something was off. "You good?" Jake asked, pulling off his jacket.

"Yeah, fine. Just tired."

"You've been saying that all week." Jake sat down at his own desk and spun his chair to face Heeseung. "You've been acting weirder than usual. What's going on?"

Heeseung considered lying but he was too exhausted to come up with anything convincing. "I was playing this game Jungwon made, got really into it and now it's broken and I can't play it anymore and I'm being weird about it."

"Oh." Jake processed this. "Was it one of those games with like, romance options and stuff?"

"Yeah."

Jake nodded slowly, like this explained everything. "Okay, those games are designed to get you attached, man, it's not your fault." He paused. "By the way, there's a party this weekend. Jay's throwing it at his place. You should come."

"I don't know," Heeseung said.

"Come on, it'll be good for you. Get out of your head for a bit. When was the last time you went to a party?"

Heeseung tried to remember and couldn't. "I don't know. Freshman year maybe?"

"Exactly. You need to socialize with actual human beings. No offense but you've been kind of hermiting lately." Jake was already pulling out his phone. "I'm telling Jay you're coming. It's saturday at eight."

"I don't —"

"Nope, you're coming. I'm not letting you sit here and mope about a video game all weekend. That's sad, even for you."

"What does that even—," Heeseung wanted to argue but he was too tired and Jake had a point. Sitting in his room thinking about you wasn't going to fix anything. Maybe going to a party would help. "Okay, yeah, fine," Heeseung said. "I'll go."

"Good. It's going to be fun." Jake turned back to his desk, already texting. "And who knows, maybe you'll meet someone."

Heeseung doubted that but didn't say it out loud. And saturday came faster than Heeseung expected, which was probably for the best because it meant less time to think about backing out. Jake had been monitoring him all day like he was afraid Heeseung would make a run for it, which was fair because Heeseung had definitely considered it at least three times.

By the time eight rolled around, Jake had already gone through Heeseung's entire closet and vetoed most of it. "You can't wear that, it has a stain. That one's too wrinkled. That shirt makes you look like someone's dad." Eventually they settled on black jeans and a dark blue button up that Heeseung had forgotten he owned, probably because he'd bought it for some family thing two years ago and never wore it again. "There," Jake said, looking satisfied. "You look like an actual person now instead of a sleep deprived computer science major."

"I am a sleep deprived computer science major."

"Yeah but you don't have to advertise it." Jake was already heading for the door. 

The party was at some place off campus that apparently belonged to Jay's older brother, which explained why it was bigger and nicer than most student housing. The music was loud enough that Heeseung could feel it in his chest before they even got through the door. Jake immediately got pulled into a conversation with some people from his econ class, and Heeseung grabbed a drink from the kitchen just to have something to do with his hands. He wandered through for a while, recognizing some faces from classes but not really knowing anyone well enough to join their conversations. this was why he didn't go to parties. He always ended up standing awkwardly in corners wondering when it would be acceptable to leave.

"Heeseung!" Someone called, and he turned to see Beomgyu waving at him from the balcony. "Dude, I didn't know you went to parties. Come here." Heeseung made his way through the crowd to the balcony where Beomgyu was standing with Soobin and Riki, and the air was clearer out here, easier to breathe. Beomgyu was holding what was very obviously a joint. "Want some?" Beomgyu offered, holding it out. "It's good stuff."

Heeseung normally would have said no because he had assignments due and didn't really like losing control of his thoughts, but tonight his thoughts were the problem so maybe losing control of them for a bit wasn't the worst idea. "Yeah, okay."

He took it and inhaled, immediately coughed. It felt someone had turned down the volume on all his anxious thoughts. He passed it back to Beomgyu and leaned against the railing. They stood out there for a while, passing the joint around, and Heeseung felt himself relax in a way he hadn't in days. Eventually they went back inside and the party had gotten more crowded. Heeseung got another drink and let himself get pulled into a conversation about the upcoming finals with some people he vaguely recognized from his algorithms class. The weed was making everything feel softer and more manageable, like he could actually handle being around this many people without wanting to escape.

Jake found him around eleven and looked genuinely shocked. "You're still here. And you're smiling. Did someone drug you?"

"I drugged myself, actually. Beomgyu had weed."

"Good for you. See, I knew this would be good for you." Jake clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm going to get another drink. You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

And the weird thing was that Heeseung actually meant it. He was good. He was at a party and he wasn't hating it and he hadn't thought about the game in at least an hour. Maybe this was what moving on felt like, just slowly forgetting to think about the thing that had been consuming you.

He made his way toward where people were dancing, not to join them but just to watch, and that's when he saw you. Or someone who looked exactly like you.

You were in the middle of the crowd, dancing with a group of friends, and Heeseung's brain stopped. Same hair, same face, same smile he'd memorized over dozens of hours of gameplay. You were wearing a black dress and your hair was down and you were laughing at something one of her friends said, and Heeseung felt like he'd been punched in the chest. It couldn't be you. It just couldn't be. You weren't real. You were code, pixels, a character in a dating simulator that didn't even work anymore. But she looked exactly like you, moved like you, had the same mannerisms he'd come to recognize, and Heeseung couldn't look away.

He stood there frozen, drink forgotten in his hand, just staring. The weed was definitely not helping because it made everything feel surreal and dreamlike, like maybe he'd fallen asleep at the party and this was just his brain torturing him with what he couldn't have. You spun around to the music and laughed and Heeseung's heart was doing something painful in his chest.

And then, as if you could feel him watching, you turned and looked directly at him. Your eyes met across the crowd and the world seemed to stop. Your expression shifted from happy to confused to something Heeseung couldn't identify, like recognition but also shock, like you'd seen a ghost. A pretty one, actually. You stared at him with the same intensity he was staring at you, both of you frozen while people danced and laughed around them, completely oblivious to whatever moment was happening. And Heeseung's mind was racing. You seemed to recognize him, but that was impossible because you'd never met, because you were a stranger, because the person you looked like didn't exist outside of a video game. 

Your friends said something to you and you blinked, breaking eye contact. You looked at them, said something Heeseung couldn't hear over the music, and then looked back at him one more time. That same confused, almost dazed expression. Then you turned back to your friends and kept dancing, but your movements were more mechanical now, less loose, like you were going through the motions while your mind was somewhere else. Heeseung just stood there, rooted to the spot, his drink sweating in his hand. His heart was pounding and his head was spinning and he couldn't tell if it was the weed or the shock or both. Probably both. He was high at a party and he'd just seen someone who looked like a video game character and convinced himself it meant something. He was hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating. Or the weed was laced with something. Or he'd finally actually lost his mind.

He turned and pushed through the crowd, Making his way to the bathroom. He needed to splash water on his face, Needed to get his head straight, needed to stop seeing you everywhere just because he missed the game. Heeseung practically fell inside and locked the door behind him. He turned on the faucet and let the water run cold, then splashed it on his face once, twice, three times. The shock of it helped, made everything feel more real and less dreamlike.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were definitely red from the weed and he looked slightly unhinged, hair messed up from running his hands through it too many times. "You're fine," he told his reflection. "You're high and you're seeing things and you're fine. She just looks like her. Lots of people probably look like her. Jungwon probably based the character on some generic attractive person template. It doesn't mean anything."

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. He splashed more water on his face, dried off with a questionable towel that was hanging on the rack, and tried to pull himself together. He couldn't hide in the bathroom all night. He needed to go back out there, find Jake, maybe go home and sleep this off. Maybe in the morning this would all make sense or at least feel less overwhelming.

He opened the door and nearly ran directly into you. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, stepping back.

Heeseung froze. Up close you were even more exactly like the character from the game, every detail perfect, from the shape of your eyes to the way you were nervously adjusting the strap of your dress. You looked at him for a second, that same confused recognition flickering across your face, and then you moved to step past him.

"Wait," Heeseung said, turning before he could stop himself. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. "I'm sorry, do we know each other from somewhere?"

You stopped and turned back, tilting your head slightly as you studied his face. "No, I don't think so. I think I'd remember if we'd met before." You paused, and then your eyes widened slightly like you'd just heard what you said. "I mean, not that I'm saying you have a particularly memorable face or anything. Wait, that sounds bad. I'm not saying you're forgettable either, you're just— " you stopped yourself and took a breath. "Sorry, I'm making this weird. I don't think we've met but you do seem familiar somehow."

Heeseung just stared at you, his brain trying to process the fact that you were standing in front of him, real and solid and rambling nervously in the exact same way the game character had. The same mannerisms, the same voice, the same way of talking yourself into circles when you were flustered. It was you. It was actually you. "Are you okay?" You asked, looking concerned now. 

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine." Heeseung tried to pull himself together. "You just really remind me of someone."

"Good someone or bad someone?"

"Good someone. Definitely good someone."

You smiled at that, a small genuine smile that made Heeseung's chest ache because he'd seen that exact smile dozens of times through a screen. "Well that's good at least. I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Heeseung."

"Nice to meet you, Heeseung." You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, and Heeseung noticed your phone in your hand. The case had a photocard of a character that he recognized immediately — Janna from League of Legends, in her star guardian skin.

"You play league?" He asked before he could think better of it.

Your face lit up. "Yeah! How'd you know?"

"Your phone case."

"Oh my god, yes." You turned your phone to show him properly, looking pleased that he'd recognized it. "I'm a Janna main and I'm not ashamed of it." Heeseung felt something cold run down his spine. Those words. he'd heard those exact words before. "I know, I know," you continued, in the same tone, the same cadence. "Support is boring or whatever, but someone has to keep the ADC alive and it might as well be me."

Heeseung couldn't breathe. Word for word. You'd just said exactly what you'd said in the game, with the same inflection, the same defensive pride. This wasn't a coincidence. This couldn't be a coincidence. "What rank are you?" He managed to ask, his voice coming out rougher than intended.

"Plat 2. I was almost diamond last season but then I had finals and gave up on the grind." You were fully animated now, talking with your hands. "What about you, do you play?"

"Yeah. Diamond 3."

"Oh so you're actually good." You looked impressed. "We should play together sometime."

The world tilted. Heeseung was pretty sure he was having some kind of break from reality because this conversation had already happened. He'd already lived through this exact exchange in the game, and now it was happening again in real life with a real person standing in front of him saying the same things.

"Heeseung!" Someone called out, and Heeseung turned to see Jungwon pushing through the hallway crowd, looking genuinely shocked. "Holy shit, you actually came to a party. I didn't think I'd see this day." Jungwon reached them and then seemed to notice you for the first time. His expression shifted from surprised to confused. "Wait, you two know each other?"

"You know each other?" Heeseung and you said at the exact same time, then looked at each other in surprise.

Jungwon looked between the two of you, his confusion deepening. "Yeah, Y/N's in my game design class." He turned to you. "And Heeseung's my best friend, we're in the same program."

"Wait, so you're that Heeseung!" You looked at him. "He talks about you all the time, by the way. I know your entire sleep schedule at this point."

"That's concerning," Heeseung said.

"Very concerning," you agreed. "So what brings you to the party?" You asked Heeseung. "Jungwon made it sound like you're basically a hermit who only emerges for classes and food."

"My roommate forced me to come. Said I needed to socialize."

"Same, actually. My best friend is around here somewhere." You glanced back toward the party. "She has this theory that I spend too much time gaming and not enough time experiencing real life."

"Gaming is real life," Heeseung said.

"Exactly! That's what I told her." You seemed genuinely pleased that he understood. "But she's on this whole thing about how I need to make more friends and go out more and whatever. So here I am, at a party, making friends." You gestured between yourself and Heeseung. "Look at me, being social."

"You're doing great," Jungwon said, sounding amused.

"Thanks, I'm trying." You checked your phone quickly. "Speaking of my roommate, she's texting me asking where I went. I should probably get back." You looked at Heeseung. "But seriously, add me on league. I meant what I said about playing together."

"Yeah, I will," Heeseung said, and he meant it even though his brain was still trying to process the fact that you were real and standing in front of him.

"Cool. See you guys around." You smiled at both of them and headed back toward the party, weaving through the people in the hallway.

The moment you were out of sight, Heeseung grabbed Jungwon's arm and pulled him toward the front door, outside where it was quieter and they could actually talk without shouting over music. "Dude, what the hell," Heeseung said the moment they were on the sidewalk. "You used her to make the character in the game?"

Jungwon blinked at him. "What? No. What are you talking about?"

"The character in girlfriend simulator. She's exactly like Y/N. Exactly like her, Jungwon. Same face, same personality, same everything."

Jungwon's confusion seemed genuine. "Heeseung, the character customization is completely random for each player. I'm still working on implementing a proper character creator but I ran out of time, so right now it just generates a random appearance based on some base parameters. I didn't use anyone specific as a model."

"That's impossible. She looks exactly like her."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah! I spent fifty one hours with that character. I know what she looks like." Heeseung could hear how unhinged he sounded but he couldn't stop. "And it's not just appearance. The way she talks, the things she said— it's all the same, like, word for word."

Jungwon was quiet for a moment, his expression shifting from confused to concerned. "Okay, I think you need to calm down for a second. I think maybe you played the game too much and now you're seeing patterns that aren't there. Like, you spent all week interacting with this character and now you meet someone who has some similar traits and your brain is making connections."

"Jungwon, I'm not making it up."

"I'm not saying you're making it up, I'm saying your brain might be filling in similarities that aren't actually there." Jungwon pulled out his phone. "Look, I don't even really know Y/N that well. We work on projects together but we don't like, hang out or have deep conversations. I definitely didn't use her as a base for anything."

Heeseung felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Then how do you explain the game knowing things about her? The league stuff, the personality, all of it?"

"The game generates dialogue based on common interests and gaming culture. Lots of people play league. lots of people main support. It's not that weird that there'd be overlap." Jungwon looked genuinely worried now. "Heeseung, I think the game messed with your head more than I thought it would. Maybe we should scrap it entirely."

"No," Heeseung said quickly. "No, I just — I need to understand what happened."

Jungwon sighed. "Look, I actually gave the game to Y/N to test too. A while back, before I gave it to you."

Heeseung's head snapped up. "You what?"

"There's an option in the loading screen. You can choose to play as the protagonist or as the girlfriend. I thought it would be cool to have both perspectives, make it more replayable." Jungwon was scrolling through his phone now. "You didn't see that option?"

"No. There was just a loading screen and then it started."

"Weird. It should have given you a choice." Jungwon pulled up what looked like a message thread. "Anyway, I gave Y/N a beta version to test like a month ago. But she gave it back to me after one day. Said it was too realistic and kind of freaked her out."

"What do you mean too realistic?"

"She said the immersion was too intense. She said it made her uncomfortable how real the boyfriend character seemed." Jungwon looked up from his phone. "Which, now that I think about it, is basically the same thing you've been saying about the girlfriend character."

Heeseung's mind was racing. "So she played it. She played the game from the other perspective."

"Yeah, but just for a few hours. She didn't finish it or anything." Jungwon pocketed his phone. "Why does that matter?"

"I don't know. It just — " Heeseung stopped, trying to organize his thoughts.

Jungwon was watching him carefully. "You look kind of freaked out right now."

Heeseung leaned against the wall of the building, suddenly exhausted. "I just spent a week falling for someone who I thought was just code. And now I find out she looks like a real person and I've been talking to her for the past fifteen minutes like a normal person and I don't know what to do with that information."

"Well, she gave you her discord. You could message her. Play some League together. Get to know the real her instead of the game version." Jungwon paused. "Unless that's too weird for you."

So when Heeseung was ready to leave the party, Jake and Jungwon looked almost disappointed but didn’t argue. They made their way through the crowd toward the front door, and that’s when Heeseung saw you again. You were standing on the sidewalk with two other girls, you were bent over laughing, that genuine kind of laugh where you forget to be self conscious about it.

Heeseung slowed down without meaning to, and Jake nearly walked into him. But then you looked up, like you could sense someone watching. your eyes met Heeseung’s across the sidewalk and you smiled, a smile that felt almost conspiratorial. Like you two were in on a joke that nobody else knew about. Which was insane because you’d met like half an hour ago and had one conversation in a hallway. One of your friends said something and you broke eye contact, still smiling, and climbed into the back seat of the car. Through the window Heeseung could see you saying something that made your friends crack up again. The car pulled away and you didn’t look back, but Heeseung kept staring at the taillights until they disappeared around the corner.

“Okay, what was that?” Jake asked.

“What was what?”

“That whole…” Jake gestured vaguely. “Moment. You guys were having a moment.”

“We weren’t having a moment.”

“You were definitely having a moment. Who was that?”

“Just someone I met. Friend of Jungwon’s.” Heeseung started walking toward their dorm and Jake followed, still looking suspicious.

“You met someone and had a moment with them? At a party? Did I slip into an alternate dimension?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, this is unprecedented behavior from you. You don’t do moments with strangers.” Heeseung didn’t know how to explain that it hadn’t felt like meeting a stranger. It had felt like running into someone he already knew, someone he’d been thinking about for days. Which was objectively insane but that didn’t make it any less true.

When they got back to the dorm, Jake immediately went to take a shower, still talking about the party through the bathroom door. Heeseung sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, pulling up discord before he could talk himself out of it. He typed your name into the search bar. There were like fifteen results but he scrolled through until he found one account that matched your username, with a profile picture that matched; a cute drawing of what looked like a cat in a witch hat. He clicked on your profile and immediately started going through your connected accounts and activity like some kind of creep, but whatever, that’s what public profiles were for, right?

Steam account: 847 hours in League of Legends, which was honestly rookie numbers compared to his own. Recently played Roblox, which he wasn’t going to judge because he had his own embarrassing game collection. He’d been growing a garden in Grow a Garden for like six months now and his sunflowers were thriving, thank you very much. Stardew Valley with 234 hours, which was extremely respectable and also adorable. Unpacking with a lot of hours, which he’d never played but had heard good things about. And The Sims 4 with an amount of hours that suggested you had a serious problem with simulation games. Which, to be honest, he kind of had it now too.

Your Spotify was connected too and he could see you’d been listening to a lot of bedroom pop and indie stuff. Your about me section just said “life ain't cookies n cream lil fella,” which made Heeseung chuckle. You had a sense of humor, which is something he kind of already knew, even though he only knew the game version of you.

Heeseung realized he’d been sitting there scrolling through your profile for like ten minutes and definitely needed to actually send the friend request before this got any weirder. He clicked add friend and then immediately closed his laptop like it might explode. He tried to do other things. He checked his phone. He looked at his algorithms homework and immediately closed that because absolutely not. He reorganized the pens on his desk. He considered making ramen but wasn’t actually hungry. Until his laptop pinged. Heeseung lunged for it so fast he almost his water bottle off the desk. He opened discord and there it was: you accepted his friend request. His heart was doing something stupid in his chest. It was just a discord notification, normal people didn’t have heart palpitations over discord notifications. But Heeseung wasn't normal anymore.

But before he could stop himself, before his brain could catch up with what his hands were doing, he opened the dm and typed hey and then, because apparently he was determined to embarrass himself, he sent the little waving robot sticker that discord suggested unintentionally. He stared at what he’d just done in absolute horror. The waving robot. He’d sent you the waving robot sticker. “Oh my god,” Heeseung said out loud to his empty room. His fingers were already flying across the keyboard.

heeseung: sorry lol heeseung: idk why i sent that heeseung: the robot i mean heeseung: anyway hi

He watched the three dots appear that meant you were typing. they disappeared. appeared again. Disappeared. Heeseung was going to have a heart attack.

you: no the robot was cute you: very welcoming you: really set the tone

Heeseung couldn’t tell if you were making fun of him or not.

heeseung: the tone being what exactly heeseung: desperate? you: i was gonna say endearing but sure we can go with desperate

Heeseung laughed out loud, an actual laugh that made Jake yell “You good?” from the bathroom. Heeseung didn't answer. 

heeseung: cool cool cool love that for me heeseung: starting strong you: you’re doing great you: so did you add me just to apologize for an emoji or was there something else

Heeseung stared at the message. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He could play it cool, say something casual about League or whatever. Or he could be honest, which was terrifying but also the weed was still kind of in his system making everything feel less scary than it probably should.

heeseung: honestly i just wanted to talk to you more heeseung: the conversation in the hallway was cool

The thing was, Heeseung felt bold saying that. Actually bold. This was probably the most direct he’d been with someone (in real life) in years, and he half expected you to think it was weird or too forward or whatever. But you didn’t. You just said “aw that’s sweet, me too!” with a smiley face and kept talking, and Heeseung felt something in his chest unclench. And you talked for hours. About games mostly, because that was the safe territory, the common ground. You told him about how you had been completely consumed by Pokemon Legends ZA, playing it every free moment you had. He admitted he’d loved Arceus when it came out but hadn’t gotten around to ZA yet, and you immediately started telling him everything he was missing out on, your messages coming in quick bursts of enthusiasm about the new mechanics and the Kalos region and how you’d already put in like sixty hours.

You asked him what his favorite games of all time were and he gave you his top five, and you had opinions about all of them, good opinions, the kind that made him want to keep talking just to hear what you’d say next. Somewhere around 1am you sent: “btw you seem really cool hee. we should play something together sometime if you’re down” and Heeseung stared at that message for long enough. You’d called him hee. You’d given him a nickname. And you wanted to play games together. His fingers hovered over the keyboard and he could feel his face getting warm, which was stupid because you couldn’t even see him, but his body didn’t seem to care about logic.

heeseung: yeah definitely heeseung: i’d be really down for that

You sent back a heart emoji and said you had to sleep, and Heeseung said goodnight, and then he just sat there for a minute staring at the conversation like if he looked at it long enough he could figure out what was happening to him. He was down bad, really down bad. Which was insane because he’d been down bad before this even happened, down bad for a video game character that turned out to look exactly like you, and now he was down bad for the actual real you, and his brain couldn’t quite process the overlap. It felt like two separate situations that had merged into one extremely confusing situation that he didn’t know how to handle.

When he finally went to bed that night, he had that specific feeling you get when something really good has just happened and you’re lying in the dark replaying it in your head. That flutter in your stomach, that slight buzz of excitement, that sense that you’ve just met someone who’s probably going to matter. Someone who’s going to take up space in your life in a way you can’t predict yet but can already feel coming.

And he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t spend the entire next week looking for you on campus. Not in a weird way. Or maybe in a weird way, but he was trying to make it not weird. He’d just happen to walk past the design building between classes. He’d just happen to take a longer route to the dining hall that went by the areas where Jungwon said you usually hung out. He’d just happen to check the game design lab when he was meeting Jungwon, looking around all casual like he wasn’t actively scanning for your face.

Monday: nothing. Tuesday: he saw someone with similar hair from behind and did a weird half jog to catch up only to realize it was absolutely not you and he’d just chased down a complete stranger for no reason. Wednesday: he sat in the campus coffee shop for two hours pretending to do homework but really just watching the door. Thursday: more nothing. By friday Heeseung was starting to think maybe you were a figment of his imagination, maybe the whole party had been a fever dream, maybe he’d made you up entirely. So by afternoon Heeseung had given up. He was going to the library to actually do the algorithms homework he’d been ignoring all week, and he was going to stop being a weird person who wandered around campus hoping to accidentally run into someone.

Except then he walked into the library and saw you. You were tucked into a corner on the second floor, the quiet study section where people went to actually focus. Your laptop was open in front of you, headphones on, and you were doing that thing where you chewed on your pen cap while reading something on the screen. There were books and papers scattered around you in what looked like organized chaos, and your coffee cup said something in sharpie that Heeseung couldn’t read from where he was standing like a creep behind a bookshelf.

Okay. Okay, this was fine. This was a normal situation. You were here, he was here, both of you were in a library because that’s what students do. He just had to walk over there and say hi. Simple. Easy. Not weird at all. But what if you were in the zone? What if you were working on something important and he interrupted and you got annoyed? What if you didn’t actually want to see him and had just been being polite when you said you should play games sometime? He could just sit near you, not like right next to you, but in the general area. That would be natural. He needed to study anyway, it made sense to sit in the quiet section. So he picked a table that was close but not too close. Close enough that you might notice him but far enough that it didn’t look intentional.

He sat down and pulled out his laptop and his textbook, arranging them very carefully, very normally. Then he just sat there, staring at his algorithms homework. Not doing it, just staring. But five minutes passed and you hadn’t looked up. Heeseung opened his laptop. Closed it. Opened it again. He was being ridiculous. He should just get up and go say hi because that’s what normal people did. Normal people didn’t stage elaborate accidental meetings, they just walked up and said hello. He stood up, sat back down, stood up again. And then you finally looked up. Heeseung froze, half standing, half sitting, in the most awkward position possible. You pulled off your headphones and your face went from confused to surprised to happy in the span of like two seconds.

“Heeseung?” You said, keeping your voice library quiet. “What are you doing?”

“Studying,” Heeseung said too quickly, and then realized he was still in that weird half crouch position and sat down properly. “I mean, I was about to. study. I’m here to study.”

You smiled and Heeseung’s brain stopped for a moment. “Oh cool. Me too, obviously.” You gestured at your chaos of books and papers. "Working on this project that’s slowly killing me.”

“Do you want company?” Heeseung asked, and then immediately wanted to take it back because what if you said no, what if you were here specifically to study alone, what if—

“Yeah, actually that’d be nice.” You started clearing some space on your table, moving books and papers around. “I’ve been here for like three hours and I’m losing my mind. Could use a distraction.” So Heeseung grabbed his stuff and moved to your table, trying very hard to look like this was a normal thing he did all the time, sitting with people in libraries, being a person who had casual study sessions with other people. “So,” you said, once he was settled across from you. “What are the odds we both ended up in the same random corner of the library?”

“Pretty low, probably,” Heeseung said. “Weird coincidence.”

You agreed, and there was something in the way you said it that made Heeseung think maybe you knew it wasn’t really a coincidence, maybe you’d seen him doing his weird laps around the second floor, but you were being nice about it. You settled into studying, or at least Heeseung pretended to study while you actually did work. You’d put your headphones back on but kept one ear uncovered, just in case he needed to ask you something about something, which he definitely wasn’t going to do because he wasn’t actually reading anything on the page in front of him.

Instead he was watching you, maybe in a weird way, but he couldn’t help it. Because sitting there across from you, seeing you up close in the quiet library light, Heeseung was hit with how much you looked like the character from the game. It wasn’t just the face, though that was uncanny enough. It was the mannerisms and the little things, like the way you bit your bottom lip when you were concentrating, eyes narrowed slightly at your screen. The way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear every few minutes even though it would just fall back. The way your nose would scrunch up a little when you read something confusing. He’d seen all of this before, dozens of times, in the game. I mean you had done all of these exact things, in the game.

You looked up suddenly and Heeseung’s eyes immediately darted to his textbook, pretending he’d been reading the whole time. He could feel you looking at him for a second before you went back to your work, and Heeseung let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. This happened like four more times. Very smooth. Very natural. Definitely not obvious at all.

Then you checked your phone and made a small sound of surprise. “Oh shit, I have class in ten minutes.” You started packing up your stuff quickly, shoving papers into your bag without any real organization. “I totally lost track of time.”

“Yeah, me too,” Heeseung lied, because he’d been very aware of every single minute.

You stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and then you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. Just like that. Casual and quick. Your lips pressed against his cheek for maybe half a second before you pulled back. “Thanks for keeping me company,” you said, smiling. “See you later, Hee.”

And then you were gone, weaving through the tables toward the stairs, and Heeseung just sat there frozen. His hand slowly came up to touch his cheek where you’d kissed him, like he needed to confirm it had actually happened. His face felt hot. His brain felt scrambled. You’d kissed him on the cheek. People did that, right? That was a normal friend thing? Except you barely knew each other so were you even friends? And why did his cheek feel like it was burning? And Heeseung realized he was just sitting there touching his face like a complete idiot and forced himself to put his hand down. He should pack up, he should go to his next class. He should do literally anything except sit here having a crisis over a cheek kiss. But he didn’t move, he just sat there, staring at nothing, replaying the moment over and over. 

“You good, man?” Heeseung’s head snapped up. Jungwon was standing next to the table, looking at him with concern and also amusement, which was a terrible combination.

“When did you get here?”

“Like two minutes ago. You were very deep in thought.” Jungwon sat down and then casually tossed something onto the table. The switch cartridge, the Girlfriend Simulator cartridge. Heeseung stared at it. “I fixed the game.” Jungwon leaned back in his chair, looking proud of himself. “You can keep playing from where you left off. It was easier to fix than I thought it’d be, just had to rebuild some of the backend routing for the post game content.” Heeseung picked up the cartridge, turning it over in his hands. "The save file's intact," Jungwon continued. “All your progress is still there. The new game plus should work now. I tested it on my switch and it loaded fine."

"Thanks,” Heeseung said, and his voice came out quieter than he meant it to. He shoved the cartridge into his bag and stood up. “I’m leaving."

“Don’t you have that lecture in twenty minutes?”

“Don’t care. Bye.” He left Jungwon sitting there chuckling and headed straight out of the library, across campus, back to his dorm. Jake wasn’t there, which was good because Heeseung didn’t need any more people commenting on his alleged vibe. He sat down at his desk and just looked at the cartridge for a minute. He should think about this. should consider whether playing the game again was a good idea now that he knew you, the real you. Now that things were getting complicated in a way that made his head hurt. But he wasn’t thinking. He was just plugging in his switch, loading up the game, watching the title screen appear with its soft music and clean typography.

continue from last save? yes / no

Heeseung pressed yes immediately. The world materialized around him in that same disorienting rush, colors bleeding into focus, sounds filtering in like someone was slowly turning up the volume. When his vision cleared, he was standing exactly where he’d left off at the park. The fireflies were still drifting lazily through the air like they’d been paused mid flight waiting for him to come back. And you were still sitting on the same bench, looking at him with an expression that made Heeseung’s chest tight.

“You’re back,” you said, and your smile was so genuinely happy it hurt to look at. You stood up and walked over to him, and Heeseung noticed the way the game rendered every detail. The way your hair moved, the exact shade of your eyes, the slight flush on your cheeks. “I missed you.” The words hit him harder than they should have. Heeseung opened his mouth and closed it, trying to figure out what to say. In the game, no time was supposed to have passed. He’d left right after your confession, after the kiss, and now he was back and theoretically it should feel like seconds had gone by. But for him it had been days. Almost a week. A week where he’d met the real you, talked to you, sat across from you in a library, felt your lips on his cheek.

Dialogue options appeared: > i missed you too > sorry i was gone so long > it feels like it’s been forever

Heeseung picked the first one because it was the most honest. “I missed you too,” he said, and he meant it in a way that felt complicated and confusing.

You stepped closer, close enough that Heeseung could see the individual pixels that made up your irises, except they didn’t look like pixels at all. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “After everything, I thought maybe you’d just… disappear.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Heeseung said automatically, and then felt weird about it because he kind of had done that, he’d been gone for days even if the game didn’t register it that way.

romantic interest: 100% | relationship status: committed | new content unlocked

You reached up and touched his face, your hand warm against his cheek, and Heeseung’s brain short circuited a little because he could feel it. the texture of your palm, the slight pressure of your fingers. This level of detail shouldn’t be possible. “I really like you,” you said, looking directly into his eyes. “Like, a lot. Is that okay?”

Before Heeseung could pick a dialogue option for that, you kissed him. It wasn’t like the first kiss, this was different. Your hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck and you pressed closer, and Heeseung forgot for a second that this was supposed to be a game. His hands found your waist automatically, pulling you against him, and you made this small sound that he felt more than heard. When you pulled back, you were breathing harder and your eyes had this look in them that Heeseung recognized from somewhere, that slightly dazed expression people get when they’re thinking about something they want. “Do you want to come back to my place?” You asked, your voice lower now, and your hand was still on the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair in a way that was extremely distracting.

quest update: relationship progression available | warning: mature content ahead | proceed? yes / no | action options: > yes, i’d like that > maybe we should slow down > are you sure?

Heeseung stared at the options. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. This was new, this was definitely new. The game had never had anything like this before. Jungwon had mentioned adding post game content but he definitely hadn’t mentioned adding this kind of content. “Heeseung?” You said, tilting your head slightly. “You okay? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought—”

“No, I want to,” Heeseung said, picking the first option before he could overthink it. “I definitely want to.”

Your smile turned into something that could only be described as pleased, maybe a little mischievous. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and started walking. The park dissolved around you in that smooth transition the game did, colors bleeding together and reforming into a new location, your apartment, and it looked different now, with softer lighting, more intimate somehow. There was music playing quietly from somewhere, something ambient and atmospheric. You let go of his hand and walked further, then turned to look at him. “You can sit down, you know. You don’t have to just stand there.” Heeseung moved to the couch and sat down, hyperaware of every movement, every detail. His hands felt sweaty and his heart was racing. This was insane, this was absolutely insane. He was about to have virtual sex with a video game character that looked exactly like a real person he’d just met and had a weird complicated semi crush on. You sat down next to him, close enough that your thigh pressed against his. “Can I ask you something?” You said.

“Sure.”

“Why did you come back?” Your expression was serious now, searching his face. “I mean, you finished the route. You got the good ending. You didn’t have to come back.”

dialogue options: > i wanted to see you again > i wasn’t ready to say goodbye > because i care about you

Heeseung picked the third option. “Because I care about you,” he said, and it felt true even though it shouldn’t, even though you were code, even though this wasn’t real.

“I care about you too,” you said quietly. Then you leaned in and kissed him again, and this time Heeseung didn’t think about the game mechanics or the dialogue options or any of it. He just kissed you back. Your hands slid under his shirt and Heeseung gasped slightly at the sensation, the feeling of your fingers on his skin. It felt real, too real, like impossibly real. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes dark. “Is this okay?” You asked, your hands still under his shirt, warm against his stomach.

action options: > yes > this is more than okay > [pull her closer]

Heeseung picked the third option and pulled you closer, and you made this satisfied sound and kissed him harder. You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, and Heeseung’s brain was trying very hard to process the logistics of what was happening. This was a Nintendo Switch game. This was running on a console made for Pokemon and Mario Kart. There was no way this level of content was actually programmed in here. You smiled and kissed his jaw, then his neck, and Heeseung felt his brain dissolve into static. Your teeth grazed his skin lightly and he made a sound that was probably embarrassing but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

intimate scene progression: 45% | continue? yes / no current comfort level: high | romantic tension: maximum |achievement unlocked: relationship deepening

The notifications kept appearing in his peripheral vision and Heeseung tried to ignore them because they were extremely distracting and also kind of killing the mood, if a video game could have a mood, which apparently this one could. “Hey,” you said, pulling back to look at him. Your face was flushed and your lips were slightly swollen and you looked devastating. “You’re thinking too hard. I can tell.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

dialogue options: > nothing’s wrong > this feels really intense > i’m just overwhelmed > i keep forgetting this isn’t real

Heeseung wanted to pick the last option but that felt like it would break something, some unspoken rule about the game. So he picked the third one. “I’m just overwhelmed,” he admitted. “In a good way. You’re just really… a lot. In the best way possible.”

You softened at that, your expression shifting from concerned to affectionate. “You’re sweet, you know that?” You kissed his cheek. “We can slow down if you want. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, I want this,” Heeseung said, and he did, desperately, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t. “I’m just trying to figure out how this is even possible.”

“How what’s possible?”

“You. This. All of it.” Heeseung knew he wasn’t making sense but the words kept coming anyway. “You feel so real. More real than anything I’ve experienced before. More real than most things I've experienced in actual life, honestly."

You looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in your expression. Then you said, very quietly, "Maybe that’s because I am real.”

The world glitched. Just for a second, so quick Heeseung almost missed it. The lighting flickered, the textures of the room seemed to shift and resettle, and there was this sound, like static, like interference. You didn’t seem to notice. You were still looking at him with that same expression, waiting for him to respond. error log: reality sync mismatch detected | warning: boundary deviation exceeding normal parameterssystem status: unknown variable introduced

“What do you mean?” Heeseung asked, his voice coming out strained.

“I said maybe I’m real. Maybe this is real. Does it matter?” You touched his face again, gentle. "Does it change anything if I'm real or not real? You’re here, I’m here, this moment exists. Isn’t that enough?”

dialogue options:> yes, that’s enough > no, i need to understand what’s happening >i think something’s wrong with the game > [kiss her to avoid answering]

Heeseung stared at the options, his heart pounding. Part of him wanted to pick the second or third option, wanted to understand what was happening, wanted to figure out why the game was doing things it shouldn’t be able to do. But another part of him, the larger part, just wanted to stop thinking and exist in this moment with you, real or not real, code or person or whatever you were. So he picked the fourth option. His hands moved before his brain could catch up— one sliding to the small of your back, the other cupping your jaw  —  and he pulled you in, kissing you like the question itself might disappear if he just didn't let go. You made a soft, surprised sound against his lips, but it melted into something needier, as you kissed him back just as fiercely.  His hands slid up your thighs, over the soft fabric of your dress, until his fingers found the hem. He tugged lightly, a silent question, and you answered by pressing closer, your body rolling against his in a way that pulled a rough sound from his throat.

action options: > pull her closer > slide hands under her dress > grip her waist and guide her hips > [kiss her neck]

Heeseung didn't even look at the options properly this time. He picked the third one instantly, fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you flush against him, guiding the slow, deliberate grind of your hips. You gasped into his mouth, nails scraping lightly down his chest through his shirt, and the sound you made was needy and it went straight through him. "Heeseung," you breathed, breaking the kiss just enough to look at him. your cheeks were flushed deep, lips swollen and wet, dress riding up slightly from the way you were moving in his lap. "You feel—"

He didn't let you finish. He kissed you deeper, harder, tongue sliding against yours like he needed to taste every part of you. One hand stayed firm on your waist, keeping the rhythm, while the other slipped higher under the hem of your dress, tracing the bare skin of your thigh. You shivered, thighs tightening around his hips, and he felt you press down harder, chasing the friction. You pulled back suddenly, just far enough to grab the bottom of his shirt. Your eyes locked on his, asking. He nodded once, barely, and you tugged it up and over his head in one smooth motion. The second it was gone, your hands were on him again, palms sliding over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle like you were mapping him out. "Better," you whispered, voice rough now, and then your mouth was on his collarbone, kissing down his chest, teeth grazing just enough to make him hiss. Heeseung's head fell back against the couch for a second, eyes squeezing shut, before he surged forward again.

action options: > pull the straps of her dress down > flip her onto the couch > trace her back and pull her even closer > [let her take control]

He picked the third, hands sliding up your back under the thin straps of your dress, fingers splaying wide as he pulled you impossibly closer. Your chest pressed against his, skin on skin now except for the flimsy fabric between you, and he could feel your heart racing just as fast as his. You moaned softly against his neck, hips moving faster, more desperate, and Heeseung matched the rhythm, guiding you with his grip on your waist. Every roll of your body against his made his breath catch, made the heat coil tighter low in his stomach. Your hands were everywhere — his hair, his shoulders, nails dragging down his back— and he was losing it, completely losing it.

action options: > slip the straps down her shoulders > lift the dress over her head > tease the hem higher > [kiss her while undressing her]

He picked the first one, sliding the straps down slowly, watching as the dress loosened and slipped lower, exposing more of your skin. You didn't stop him, instead, you arched your back slightly, helping it along, your eyes locked on his with a look that dared him to keep going. The dress pooled around your waist, and Heeseung's breath caught at the sight of you, bare from the waist up, the soft curve of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "God," he muttered, voice barely audible, and then he leaned in, mouth finding the sensitive spot on your neck. He kissed there first, open mouthed, then grazed his teeth lightly, sucking just enough to leave a faint mark. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, a low moan escaping your lips that vibrated against his skin. Your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, and Heeseung felt that coil of tension wind tighter, his hips bucking up instinctively to meet your rhythm. The friction was maddening, too much and not enough, and he could feel himself hardening against you, the thin layers between you doing nothing to dull the sensation.

intimate scene progression: 92% | arousal level: peak | system warning: immersion threshold breached

A faint static hum buzzed in his ears for a split second, the room's edges blurring like a bad render, but it passed as quickly as it came. You didn't notice, or if you did, you didn't care — your focus was on him, on the way his mouth moved down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face flushed, eyes glassy with want. "Heeseung," you said, voice husky and breathless, "Do you want to take this to the bedroom? We can… get more comfortable."

The action wheel popped up: action options: > carry her to the bedroom > pull her up and walk together > push her down on the couch instead > [deepen the kiss and decide later]

Heeseung picked the first one without a second thought. In one fluid motion, he stood, arms wrapping around your waist to lift you effortlessly. You yelped in surprise, legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. the sudden shift made you cling to him, arms around his neck, and Heeseung kissed you hard as he carried you, tasting the salt on your lips from the heat of the moment. The transition was seamless, the game dissolving the living room around you in that familiar bleed of colors, reforming into your bedroom. Soft lighting from a bedside lamp, sheets rumpled like they'd been waiting, the air thicker somehow. Heeseung lowered you onto the bed gently, following you down, his body covering yours as he settled between your legs. You looked up at him, hands sliding down his chest to his waistband, fingers teasing the edge. "Now where were we?" You whispered, pulling him closer.

Heeseung lowered you onto the bed gently, the mattress dipping under your combined weight as he settled between your legs. Your dress was already bunched high on your thighs, and the air between you crackled with anticipation. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, hands tugging at his waistband, pulling him closer until his hips pressed against yours. The heat of you through the thin fabric was driving him insane — his hands braced on either side of your head, breath ragged as he leaned down to kiss you again, deeper, hungrier.

But just as his fingers brushed the hem of your dress to slide it off completely, everything froze. The world glitched hard; colors inverting for a split second, a low error chime ringing in his ears like a nintendo switch low battery warning. You froze mid motion, lips parted, eyes wide and unblinking, like a paused cutscene. The music cut out. Notifications exploded across his vision in a pop up that took over half the screen:

kink compatibility survey | new content unlock: personalized intimacy  | please select preferences to optimize experience (this will not affect main storyline) > time remaining: 30 seconds

Heeseung blinked, staring in horror as a massive form materialized, checkboxes scrolling down like some deranged tinder profile from hell:

> light bondage (ropes/silk)  > dirty talk  > praise kink  > edging/teasing  > oral focus (giving)  > oral focus (receiving)  > spanking/light impact  > roleplay  > sensory play (blindfold/ice)  > vanilla only  > [custom: type here] slider: intensity (1-10)  | save & continue

His face burning hotter than the tension from seconds ago. "What the fuck is this?" His thumbs mashed the joy cons frantically, heart pounding from equal parts embarrassment and urgency. Thirty seconds? He wasn't even thinking straight — he just spam clicked the safe ones to get it over with. Checkmark on praise kink. Oral focus (both). Dirty talk (why not, he was already losing his mind). Slider cranked to 7 because... yeah. No bondage — keep it simple, game. Vanilla only stayed unchecked because apparently this freakshow had layers.

preferences saved! | compatibility: 92% | resuming scene...

The pop up vanished with a cheerful ding. You unfroze instantly, blinking like nothing happened, your hands resuming their path down his chest. "Hee?" you murmured, voice soft and teasing, thighs parting wider beneath him. "You okay?"

He swallowed hard, brain still reeling. "Yeah, yeah." You smiled, wicked and knowing somehow, and pulled him down into another kiss. His hands finally obeyed, pushing the dress the rest of the way off your hips, sliding it down your legs until you were bare except for your underwear. The sight of you all spread out hit him. He trailed kisses down your chest, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking gently as you arched into him with a gasp. "You feel perfect," he whispered against your skin, the praise slipping out naturally, and you shivered, fingers threading into his hair. His hand slid lower, between your thighs, fingers brushing over the damp fabric of your underwear. You moaned his name, hips lifting eagerly, and Heeseung pressed harder, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you writhing. "So wet for me already," he murmured, voice rough with want, testing the dirty talk, and god, it worked, because your breath was hitching beautifully.

You tugged at his pants impatiently. "Off. Now." He obliged in a blur, shedding them along with everything else until there was nothing between you. He hooked his fingers into your underwear, pulling them down slowly, eyes locked on yours as he tossed them aside.

action options: > taste her first > enter her slowly > tease with fingers > [let her guide]

He picked the first, Heeseung's mind was a haze of want and disbelief as he settled between your thighs, your legs parting wider for him like an invitation he couldn't refuse. The sight of you — bare, glistening, so ready —made his mouth water. This is a game, he reminded himself, heart pounding. Just a fucking game. I can do whatever I want. Things I'd never have the guts to try in real life. No judgment, no consequences. Just you, writhing under him, and the freedom to indulge every filthy thought he'd ever buried.

He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer until his face was buried between your legs. His tongue flicked out experimentally at first, tasting you, sweet and tangy, like nothing he'd imagined, but better. You bucked against him with a sharp gasp, and that sound flipped a switch. Heeseung groaned against you, the vibration making you whimper, and he dove in deeper, tongue flat and broad as he licked a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit. "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured, voice muffled against your skin, dirty words spilling out because why the hell not? In real life, he'd be too shy, too careful, but here? He could be filthy. "So wet for me already, dripping down my chin. You like that, huh?"

You moaned louder, hands fisting the sheets, then tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Yes god, Heeseung don't stop." Your voice was wrecked, breathy and desperate, and it fueled him. He sucked your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue around it in circles, then flicking fast and hard, alternating with long, sloppy licks that had you trembling. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you open, spreading you wider so he could bury his face deeper, nose pressing against you as he devoured you like he was starving.

action options: > add fingers > suck harder > tease her entrance > [talk dirtier]

He picked the fourth mentally, because fuck it, this was his chance to let loose. "Tell me how good it feels," he growled, pulling back just enough to blow cool air over your slick folds, watching you shiver. "Tell me you want my tongue fucking you deeper."

"Please," you gasped, hips grinding up toward his mouth, chasing the contact. "Heeseung, your tongue— fuck, it's so good. Deeper, I need it deeper."

He plunged his tongue inside you, thrusting it in and out, mimicking what he wanted to do with his cock later. His thumb found your clit, rubbing firm circles while he tongue fucked you, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. You were soaking him, face, chin, and he loved it, lapping it up greedily, humming in approval at how messy it was getting. "You're gonna come on my face, aren't you?" He taunted, voice rough and low, pulling back to suck your clit again, harder this time, teeth grazing just enough to make you cry out. "Do it. Come for me, show me how much you love my mouth on this pretty pussy."

You arched off the bed, a broken moan tearing from your throat as the orgasm hit, waves crashing through you. Heeseung didn't stop, licking you through it, drawing it out until you were oversensitive and twitching, begging him to ease up. only then did he pull away, lips shiny and swollen, grinning up at you with a wicked, satisfied look. "Good girl," he praised, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, though he didn't really want to, part of him liked the mess, the evidence. you were panting, eyes hazy as you reached for him. He crawled back up your body, capturing your lips in a kiss that let you taste yourself on his tongue, another thing he'd never dare in real life, but here it felt right, hot. "You taste yourself? So fucking dirty," he whispered against your mouth, positioning himself at your entrance. "Ready for more?"

"Yes please," you begged, nails digging into his shoulders, your voice a needy whine that made his cock twitch against you. You were so wet, slick from his mouth and your own release, and Heeseung could feel the heat radiating from you, pulling him in. But before he could thrust forward, the game intervened again again: 

position selection: customize your intimacy  > missionary (classic connection)  > doggy style (deeper access)  > her on top (let her ride)  > against the wall (intense standing)  > [spooning (gentle side entry)]  

Heeseung stared at the options, a mix of arousal and exasperation flooding him. Jungwon, you pervert, he thought, adding a fucking position menu? He timer was ticking— 15 seconds — and you were frozen mid breath, eyes locked on his with that desperate, submissive Gaze that made him want to wreck you. He picked the third option fast, because fuck, the idea of you riding him, taking control but still under his command? Yeah, that was it. The menu vanished with a satisfied beep, and the scene resumed seamlessly. You blinked, as if nothing happened, but your hands were already pushing at his chest gently, urging him to lie back. "Let me... let me ride you," you murmured, voice soft and obedient, like you were reading his mind, or the game's script. "Please? I want to make you feel good."

Heeseung grinned, dark and dominant, shifting onto his back and pulling you with him until you straddled his hips. His hands gripped your thighs hard, fingers digging in possessively as he looked up at you, flushed, eager, completely at his mercy. "Yeah? You wanna ride my cock like a good girl?" He growled, the words coming easier now, dirtier, because this wasn't real life. No holding back. 

You whimpered, hands bracing on his chest, your hips grinding down instinctively against his length, coating him in your wetness. "Please, Hee... I need you inside me so bad. I'll be good."

Fuck, he thought, she's so subby, so perfect. The game's kink sync must've kicked in, amplifying everything — your voice trembling, eyes wide and pleading, body arching like you were made to submit. Heeseung's hands slid up to your hips, guiding you, lifting you just enough to position himself at your entrance. "That's my girl. Sink down on me slow— let me watch you take every inch." You obeyed instantly, lowering yourself onto him, the head of his cock pushing past your folds, stretching you open. It was agonizingly slow, and Heeseung groaned low in his throat, feeling the tight, wet heat envelop him inch by inch. You were so fucking real, hotter than any game should allow, clenching around him like velvet, your walls fluttering as you took him deeper.

"Oh god you're so big," you gasped, head falling back, eyes fluttering shut as you adjusted, a shiver running through you. It felt too real, the stretch, the fullness, the way he throbbed inside you, every vein and ridge pressing against your sensitive spots. Heeseung could feel it all, amplified, like the game had cranked the sensitivity to max. Sweat beaded on his skin, your thighs trembling around him, and for a second, he forgot it was code — this was you, real you, riding him.

intimate scene progression: 98% | dominance level: high | submission sync: optimal | warning: haptic feedback overload

A faint glitch rippled through the air — the lamp flickering, your moan echoing with a digital edge for a heartbeat — but it only made him thrust up harder, hands gripping your ass to pull you down rougher. "Ride me, baby. Bounce on my cock," he commanded, voice gravelly and demanding, slapping your ass lightly to spur you on. "Faster, come on."

You moaned louder, hands on his chest for leverage as you started moving up and down, hips rolling in circles that ground your clit against him. "Like this? Fuck, Heeseung it feels so good— you're so deep." Your voice broke on a whimper, body obeying his every cue, riding him harder, faster, tits bouncing with each thrust.

Heeseung bucked up to meet you, thrusting deep enough to make you cry out, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat gently. "That's it, take it all. You're mine in here, aren't you? My perfect little girl, creaming all over my cock." You clenched tighter, nodding frantically.

"Yes—fuck, Heeseung, I love it. You're so deep, so big...." Your voice was breathy, submissive, breaking on moans as you submitted completely, body moving exactly how he wanted, faster when he slapped your ass, slower when he pulled you down hard.

action options: > thrust up harder > put a finger in her mouth > choke lightly > [pull her hair]

Heeseung picked the second without hesitation, his thumb tracing your lower lip before pushing it into your mouth. You sucked on it immediately, tongue swirling around it like it was his cock, eyes half lidded and locked on his, so obedient it made his dick twitch inside you. "That's it, suck it like a good girl," he rasped, your wet lips wrapped around his finger, drool starting to drip. "Imagine it's my cock in your mouth while I fuck this tight pussy. You'd take both, wouldn't you?" You moaned around his thumb, sucking harder, hips stuttering as the added sensation pushed you closer to the edge. Then, in the corner of his screen, a new notification flickered: partner preference update: increase roughness? yes / no | affinity: high for dominant play

She likes it rougher? Heeseung thought, a smirk tugging at his lips as he mentally selected yes. Wow, this is way easier than in real life. The game adjusted instantly, your moans turning needier, body arching more desperately as he ramped up the intensity. "You want it rougher, huh?" He taunted, pulling his thumb from your mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting it to your lips. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise — if this were real— and thrust up sharply, slamming into you with more force. "Beg for it then. Tell me how bad you want me to wreck this pussy."

"Please—fuck me harder, Heeseung," you cried out, leaning forward to brace on his shoulders as you rode him faster, chasing the roughness.

intimate scene progression: 99% | climax indicator: approaching for both | options: prolong / climax now / switch position

The bar flashed red in his peripheral, both your arousal meters pulsing near max. He could feel it too, the coil tightening low in his gut, your body starting to tense and shake. But Heeseung wasn't ready to end it. He selected prolong and switch position, flipping the script. He rolled you both over, pulling out just long enough to maneuver you onto your side, spooning behind you. His chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tight, the other lifting your thigh high. "Not yet," he whispered hot against your ear, nipping the lobe. "Gonna fuck you like this now." You nodded weakly, pushing your ass back against him. Heeseung thrust back in from behind, the angle hitting deeper, his cock dragging against your g-spot with every slow, rough pump. His hand slid between your legs, fingers circling your clit fast and hard, while his other arm pinned you close. "That's my good girl," he growled, pounding into you now, the spooning position letting him grind deep. "Taking it so well." Your moans turned into desperate sobs, body arching back into him.

Heeseung's thrusts were relentless, his cock dragging deep inside you with every slow, powerful snap of his hips. You were a whimpering mess against him, back arched, ass grinding back to meet him as his fingers worked your clit in tight, fast circles. "Fuck you're so tight like this," he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder, leaving a mark that made you shiver.

intimate scene progression: 99.5% | climax indicator: critical for both | options: prolong / climax now / switch position

The meters were flashing urgently now, his own arousal bar teetering on the edge, but Heeseung still wasn't done — he wanted more, wanted to push the limits of this insane game until it broke. One more switch, he thought, selecting prolong and switch position again. The game responded instantly, a soft chime echoing as he pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach with rough hands. You gasped at the sudden movement, face down on the bed, ass up as he positioned himself behind you, knees spreading your thighs wide. "On your stomach, baby— ass up for me," he commanded. He slapped your ass hard, the crack echoing, your skin blooming red under his palm, and you cried out, pushing back eagerly like the subby little thing the game had turned you into. "That's right, take it. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

You nodded into the sheets, voice muffled and needy. "Yes—god, yes, Heeseung." The game's encouragement popped up in his vision — dominance boost: activated | roughness level: max | achievement: total submission unlocked — and it spurred him on, like the system was egging him to go further, deeper into the filth.

He thrust back in from behind, burying himself to the hilt in one rough stroke, the angle hitting even deeper, making you scream into the pillow. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly, pounding into you with brutal force, skin slapping loud and obscene. "So fucking wet, dripping all over me," he snarled, spanking your ass again, harder this time, alternating cheeks until they were stinging red. You arched higher, offering more, moans turning into sobs of pleasure. He tangled one hand in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your neck, lips brushing your ear as he growled, "look at you, taking my cock like a good girl. Beg for more — tell me how much you need me to ruin this pussy."

"Please—ruin me, Heeseung," you begged, voice breaking. The game flashed more incentives — rough play affinity: 100% | continue for bonus immersion — and Heeseung lost it, spanking you in rhythm with his thrusts, pulling your hair tighter to arch your back, fucking you rougher, faster, the bed shaking under the force. Glitches were hitting harder now, but it only made him thrust deeper, the hyper real sensations overwhelming: the sting of your skin under his palm, the tight ripple of your walls around him, your sweat slicked back against his chest.

intimate scene progression: 99.99% | climax indicator: imminent | warning: system overload detected

He was right there, teetering on the edge, cock throbbing inside you, but you twisted slightly, looking back at him with glassy, desperate eyes. "Heeseung — cum inside me, please," you implored. "Fill me up, I need it."

For a split second, his brain stopped. Wait, cum inside? What if— but then reality (or unreality) hit him comically hard. It's a game, dumbass. Pixels can't get pregnant. He almost laughed mid thrust, the absurdity breaking through the haze, but he shoved it aside, diving back. "Yeah? You want me to breed this tight pussy?" He growled, slamming into you harder, spanking one last time for good measure. "Beg for it louder—"

"Yes—fuck, Hee!" You cried, clenching around him desperately, body trembling on the brink. "Cum inside me, please— breed me, make me yours!" That did it. The climax hit like a wave, crashing over you both at once. Heeseung thrust deep one final time, groaning loud as he spilled inside you, feeling the hot pulse of his release mix with your own orgasm, walls milking him dry. You screamed his name, body convulsing under him, the shared peak amplified by the game — sensations exploding, vision blurring with pleasure and glitches alike.

As your body shuddered through the aftershocks, Heeseung collapsed beside you, pulling you close against his chest with a gentleness that felt worlds away from the roughness just moments ago. His arms wrapped around you protectively, one hand stroking your hair softly, fingers threading through the tangled strands like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. The room was still glitching faintly, but he ignored it, focusing on you, on the way your breaths synced with his, slowing down together.

intimate scene complete | aftercare mode: activated | relationship bond: unbreakable | achievement unlocked: emotional intimacy peak

Heeseung pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your temple, his voice dropping to a whisper, sweet and caring, laced with concern. "Hey... you okay? I got carried away back there. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

You looked up at him, eyes soft and hazy, a small smile tugging at your lips as you snuggled closer, head resting on his chest. "No, Hee... I liked it. A lot. It was perfect." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his skin, voice turning playful, like the dynamic lingered just a bit. "You made me feel so good. Don't apologize."

He chuckled quietly, relief washing over him, and he hugged you tighter, hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Good. I just... want to take care of you now." The game prompted options in his vision, soft and glowing: aftercare options: > hold her closer > kiss her gently > whisper sweet nothings > [offer water/snack] -- he picked the third, leaning down to murmur against your ear, "you're amazing, you know that? So beautiful, so perfect for me. I could stay like this forever." You hummed contentedly, body relaxing fully into his, the contrast hitting him. The glitches were fading, but notifications kept pinging: comfort level: maximum | post intimacy glow: active | save progress? yes / no

You shifted slightly, looking up at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. Affectionate, but something deeper, almost knowing. "Heeseung..." your voice was quiet. "See you out there."

He blinked, confusion creasing his brow. "What do you mean?" He sat up a little, heart picking up again, but before you could answer — or before the dialogue wheel could pop up — the world started dissolving. colors bled out, the room flickering violently, static roaring in his ears like a system crash.

error log: forced logout initiated | reality sync: restored | session terminated

Everything went black. Heeseung jolted upright in his chair, the Switch still clutched in his sweaty hands, the screen dark and powered off. His room came into focus: the dim light from his desk lamp, posters on the wall, the faint hum of his pc in the background. His heart was racing, breaths coming fast, and then he felt a sticky, warm mess in his pants, soaking through his boxers. "What the—" he muttered, voice cracking as the full reality sank in. His face burned hotter than ever, cheeks flaming red as he shifted in the gaming chair. He'd actually cum inside his pants. For real. Not just some weird dream or an asleep fantasy — no, full on, pants ruining orgasm from a Nintendo Switch Girlfriend Simulator game. "Holy shit."

Heeseung stared at the dark screen in his hands, the console now completely powered off, innocent looking with its cute joy cons and pastel buttons. It looked so harmless sitting there on his lap, like it hadn't just mind fucked him for hours and then physically fucked him back. He finally set the switch down on his desk, pushing it as far away as the cords allowed. He groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

After cleaning himself up in the bathroom — which involved avoiding eye contact with his own reflection because he couldn't handle the judgment he knew he'd see there — Heeseung collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. His body felt loose and tired in a way that should have been relaxing but instead just made him feel deeply, profoundly embarrassed.

The worst part was that he wanted to do it again. That was what really got him. Not the fact that it happened, but the fact that his brain was already thinking about when he could play next, or well, when he could fuck you next. He felt like a teenager who'd just discovered something he definitely shouldn't have and was now completely obsessed with it.

He'd spent most of his Sunday in his room alternating between staring at his Switch and telling himself he absolutely was not going to play it again, which had been moderately successful except for the part where he'd picked it up four different times before forcing himself to put it back down. So on that week, he started walking across campus toward the engineering building, head down and hoodie up because he felt like everyone could somehow tell what he'd done just by looking at him, when he saw you. You were sitting on one of the benches outside the library with your laptop open, clearly working on something, your hair pulled back and you were wearing an oversized hoodie that had some game logo on it he couldn't quite make out from this distance. Heeseung immediately changed direction. 

He took the long way around the building, added an extra five minutes to his walk, and showed up to lecture slightly out of breath. He was very deliberately not thinking about the fact that he'd just actively avoided you. Which was ridiculous. You hadn't done anything, you didn't even know what had happened. You probably hadn't thought about him at all since that day at the library, were probably just sitting there doing homework like a normal person while Heeseung was having a complete psychological breakdown over a video game.

The problem was that every time he thought about you now, his brain immediately supplied images from the game. The way you'd looked at him, the way you moaned, the sounds you'd made, the way you came, the way it had felt so impossibly real that his body had reacted like it was actually happening. And now he couldn't separate that from the real you, the person he'd met at the party who'd been nice and funny and way too easy to talk to. The rest of the week continued like this. He saw you everywhere now, which was ironic because before the party he'd never noticed you once and now you were apparently in every building he entered. Tuesday you were in the coffee shop in the student center. Wednesday you walked past him in the hallway between classes. Thursday he saw you in the library again, this time on the second floor, and he'd actually turned around and walked back out.

His switch was on his desk, fully charged, basically taunting him. He'd managed to avoid playing it all week, had told himself he was being responsible and mature about the whole situation. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time his mind wandered, it went right back to that night, to the game, to you. And his body was betraying him too, which was mortifying. He'd be sitting in lecture and think about the game for half a second and suddenly he'd have to adjust his laptop to hide the fact that he was getting hard in the middle of algorithms class. It happened during study sessions, during meals, during completely random moments when his brain decided to remind him that the game existed and he could play it whenever he wanted.

He felt disgusting. He was kink shaming himself, which he didn't even know was possible, but here he was, lying in bed at two am feeling like a creep for being attracted to a video game character who happened to look exactly like a real person he'd met. But he also couldn't stop thinking about playing again. About whether it would be like the first time or if there were other features, other scenarios. His brain kept supplying possibilities and his body kept responding and he felt trapped in this cycle of shame and want that he didn't know how to break.

And then on friday afternoon, Heeseung was in his dorm trying to focus on an assignment that was due monday when someone knocked on his door with the kind of aggressive persistence that could only be Jungwon. He considered pretending he wasn't home but Jake had already opened the door before Heeseung could say anything. "Oh hey Jungwon," Jake said. "He's here but he's been weird all week so good luck."

"Thanks for the warning," Jungwon said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He went to Heeseung's room and looked at him, who was very deliberately staring at his laptop screen. "Okay, we're going to Five Guys. Get up."

"I'm busy."

"No you're not." Jungwon grabbed Heeseung's hoodie off his chair and threw it at him. "Come on. We're getting burgers and you're going to tell me why you've been ignoring me all week."

"I haven't been ignoring you."

"You answered my texts with one word responses and you've avoided me on campus. That's ignoring me." Jungwon crossed his arms. "So either you come willingly or I'm going to make a scene. Your choice."

Heeseung knew Jungwon well enough to know he absolutely would make a scene. "Fine. But I'm not hungry."

"You're never not hungry. Let's go." And twenty minutes later they were sitting in Five Guys with their orders, the place mostly empty since it was that weird time between lunch and dinner.

Heeseung had been hoping the walk would give him time to figure out what to say to Jungwon, but instead he'd just spent it thinking about the game and feeling more and more uncomfortable. Because the thing was, if Heeseung had done what he'd done in the game, that meant Jungwon had programmed it. Jungwon had sat at his computer and coded in all those options, all those scenarios, all those very specific and detailed features that Heeseung had discovered. Which meant either Jungwon was way more perverted than Heeseung had ever given him credit for, or something else was going on.

"Okay, you're doing it again," Jungwon said, interrupting Heeseung's spiral. "You're being weird and quiet and you won't look at me. What's going on? Is it about the game? Did something break again?"

Heeseung knew he had to say something because this had gone too far. Because if the mature content was intentional, then they needed to have a very different conversation about boundaries and warnings and maybe Jungwon's concerning lack of shame. And if it wasn't intentional, if this was some kind of glitch or malfunction, then that was somehow even worse because it meant the game was doing things beyond anyone's control. Either way, Heeseung couldn't keep avoiding this. Jungwon was his best friend. If he couldn't talk to Jungwon about this, even if it was mortifying, then what was the point of having a best friend? So Heeseung admitted: "Yeah, it's about the game."

"Okay, so tell me." Jungwon looked at him.

"Look, you could've just... you could have warned me that it had adult content." Heeseung forced himself to look at Jungwon. "Like, explicit that I wasn't expecting in a dating simulator."

Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"

"I'm just saying, a heads up would have been nice. I know you're trying to make it realistic but I wasn't prepared for how detailed it was going to get."

"Bro, what are you talking about?"

And then it all came out like Heeseung couldn't stop himself. "I'm talking about the fact that the game has very explicit scenes with very detailed options and I don't know if you've ever actually looked at what you programmed but it's intense, Jungwon. Like the dialogue options were insane, I could say basically anything and the character would respond and some of those options were really freaky. And the action options were even worse, there were so many of them and they were all very specific and very detailed and I'm not going to list them but oh my god and then there was a whole section where it asked me about preferences and kinks and I thought that was just for character building but no, it actually used that information! And there were position suggestions. Position suggestions, Jungwon! With fucking diagrams, man. Why did you add diagrams?! And the whole thing was just very immersive and very realistic and I had a physical reaction that I'm not going to elaborate on but I think you can figure out what I mean and I've been avoiding you all week because I didn't know how to have this conversation without wanting to die of embarrassment."

Heeseung finally stopped to breathe and realized Jungwon was staring at him with an expression of complete bewilderment. "Heeseung," Jungwon said slowly. "I didn't add any of that content."

"What."

"I didn't program explicit scenes. There's no adult content in the game. It's a dating simulator not a porn game. The most intimate it gets is like, hand holding and maybe a kiss at the end if you get the good ending." Jungwon set down his burger. "What are you talking about dude?"

"Don't fuck with me right now."

"I'm not fucking with you, I'm being completely serious." Jungwon was looking at him, shocked. "I didn't add any of that stuff. I wouldn't even know how to program half of what you just described. Like what the fuck is even a kink questionnaire?!"

Heeseung felt cold. "Then how did I experience it, man?!"

"I don't know!" Jungwon was still shocked. "But this actually makes sense now. Y/N's been avoiding me too this week, even more than you have. She won't answer my texts and she literally ran away from me in the hallway yesterday. I thought maybe she was mad at me about something but what if she experienced the same thing you did?"

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, last Friday, remember when you were studying in the library and Y/N left suddenly? I texted her right after she left asking if she wanted to try the updated version of the game and she texted back immediately saying yes and that she was coming to get it right then." Heeseung remembered that day, your phone had buzzed and you'd looked at it and your whole expression had changed, you'd packed up your stuff so fast, muttering something about being late for class even though Heeseung was pretty sure you didn't have class at that time. "She took the game and left," Jungwon continued. "I didn't hear from her after that until she texted me the next day saying she was returning it and that she didn't want to play anymore. And now she won't talk to me."

"What time did she take the game?" Heeseung asked, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

"I don't know, maybe around four? Four thirty?" Jungwon paused. "Why?"

Heeseung felt like the world was tilting. "I picked up the game from you around four forty five. Remember?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So we both had the game that night. We both played it that same night." Heeseung's mind was racing, putting pieces together. "And you're saying there's no adult content programmed into the game. But we both experienced something intense enough that we're both avoiding you. And we both played it at the same time."

Jungwon's eyes widened. "Oh my god."

"What if—" Heeseung stopped, because what he was about to say sounded insane. But everything about this situation was insane. "What if the game connected us somehow? What if when we both played it at the same time and it put us in the same… I don't know, session?"

"That's not possible because I didn't program any multiplayer features."

"You also didn't program explicit content but I definitely experienced it, man!" Heeseung put his head in his hands. "Jungwon, the character in my game looked exactly like Y/N, exactly like her. And you said the character customization was random."

"It is random. I didn't—" Jungwon stopped. "Wait. She actually said something similar. When she gave the game back she mentioned that the boyfriend character looked really realistic, like someone she could actually know."

Heeseung felt like throwing up. "Did she say who?"

"No, she just said it freaked her out how real he seemed."

Heeseung was pale now. His brain was doing that thing where it tried to process too much information at once and ended up just kind of spinning in place. You had played the game, you had seen a character that probably looked like him. You had found it so realistic it freaked you out. And then you'd played it again last friday, the same day he did, probably around the same time. And Jungwon was sitting here swearing he hadn't programmed any of the content that Heeseung had definitely experienced. Which meant one of two things: either Jungwon was full of shit, which didn't make sense because why would he lie about this, or the game had somehow done something it wasn't supposed to do. Connected two players who didn't know they were playing together, made them interact without telling them, let them do things with each other while both of them thought they were just playing a single player game with really good immersion.

And if that was true, if you'd actually been playing together, then the character Heeseung had been with wasn't just some algorithm. It was you, making choices and responding to him. Doing all those things that he'd been replaying in his head all week. Which meant you'd been doing those things with him, or with a version of him, and you probably had no idea it was real either. So Heeseung stood up so fast his chair scraped against the floor. "What's Y/N's dorm?"

Jungwon blinked at him. "What?"

"Her dorm. Which building is she in?"

"Uh, west campus. Building C, I think? Room 304, why?"

"I gotta go." Heeseung was already grabbing his hoodie.

"Ho where? Heeseung, what—" but Heeseung was already walking, he heard Jungwon call after him something about texting him later but he wasn't really listening. His mind was too busy spiraling through everything he needed to say to you, everything he needed to ask, everything that didn't make sense.

The walk to west campus took fifteen minutes but it felt both longer and shorter than that. Heeseung's hands were shaking and he shoved them in his pockets. He tried to figure out what he was going to say. Hey, so I think we accidentally had virtual sex through a Nintendo Switch last week and neither of us knew it was real. Yeah, that would go over great. Or maybe, hi, remember how we both played that game? Turns out we were playing together. Surprise! Yeah, also worse.

By the time he got to building C, he still hadn't figured it out. Heeseung stood outside the door and realized he couldn't actually get in without a key card or someone letting him in. He was standing there trying to figure out his next move when the door opened and two girls walked out, laughing about something on one of their phones. Heeseung caught the door before it closed and slipped inside. Probably not his finest moment in terms of dorm security, but he was past caring about minor rule violations.

He stood in front of your door for a solid thirty seconds, hand raised to knock, unable to make himself actually do it. This was insane, he was insane. He should turn around and leave and text Jungwon and let Jungwon handle this because Jungwon had made the game and this was technically his responsibility. But he didn't leave, he knocked. And nothing happened for a long moment. Heeseung was starting to think maybe you weren't home, or maybe you were home but ignoring the door, when he heard movement from inside. Footsteps and then a pause. Then your voice, muffled through the door.

"Who is it?"

Heeseung's mouth was dry. "It's Heeseung."

Another pause, longer this time. He could picture you on the other side of the door, probably frozen, probably panicking, probably wondering why the hell he was at your dorm right now. Then the lock turned and you opened the door. You were pale, like actually pale, but you smiled anyway. "Hi Hee. Is… everything alright?"

Heeseung looked at you. You were in pajamas, soft looking sweatpants and an oversized hoodie with some faded band logo on it. Your hair was up in a bun that was more mess than anything else, strands falling out around your face, no makeup. You were standing there at your door at five pm on a friday looking comfortable and real and so pretty it made his chest hurt. He knew he was down bad already. Had been since the game, since the party, since the moment you'd turned around in that park with a flower behind your ear that he'd picked for you except it hadn't actually been you, or maybe it had been, he didn't even know anymore. But looking at you now, in your actual dorm with your actual face and your actual voice saying his name like that, soft and a little worried, he realized the game version hadn't even come close. This was better because this was real.

"Well, yeah, I mean, technically no," he said. Then stopped. "I mean yes. I mean, I need to ask you something and I don't want to sound crazy but I'm probably going to sound crazy anyway so I don't know how to do this without sounding crazy."

Your expression shifted. Something in your eyes changed, like you knew exactly what he was going to say but didn't want to believe it. You stepped back and pulled the door open wider. "Come in."

Heeseung walked into your dorm and tried not to look around but he couldn't help it. The space was small but you'd made it yours, there was a Janna poster on the wall near your desk, the star guardian skin, same one you had on your phone case. Next to it was a persona 5 royal poster that looked like it had been put up carefully. Your Switch was sitting on your desk next to your laptop, the joy cons that soft pink and blue that came with the Animal Crossing edition. Your bed was unmade, blankets pushed to one side like you'd gotten up in a hurry. There were books stacked on your nightstand, a pair of headphones tangled on top of them. A stuffed cat that looked old and well loved sitting on your pillow. It was so much like the apartment in the game that Heeseung felt dizzy. The colors, the vibe, the way things were organized. But also different and better because it was lived in and messy in ways the game couldn't replicate. 

"Do you want water or something?" You were standing by your mini fridge, hand on the door, looking at him with that same careful expression.

And then Heeseung opened his mouth and everything just came out. 

"Jungwon gave me this game to test Called Girlfriend simulator and I thought it was stupid, like, the most desperate thing I could possibly do, like an actual certificate that I'm way too single for a guy my age. But I played it anyway because I can't say no to Jungwon and also because I was curious and I went on this date with this girl and she liked League of Legends and I had to pick this flower that was glowing and she loved it, and this firefly landed on her hand and she smiled at me like and then we played league together and destroyed her ex boyfriends, and we cooked pasta and she helped me because I was burning the garlic and the game kept giving me dialogue options but then I started just talking and it kept responding like it knew what I was going to say. And then things got really intimate, like really intimate, in ways I'm not going to describe because I'll die of embarrassment but you can probably guess what I mean. And the girl, she... she looked exactly like you. Not kind of like you, exactly like you. same face, same voice, same everything. and i talked to jungwon today And he said there's no adult content in the game, that he never programmed any of that, and that you played it too, last friday on the same night I did. And I think we were playing together and I think we were in the same game, in the same session or server or whatever, and I think the characters we were playing with weren't just game characters and I think they were each other. So I need you to tell me right now, does the boyfriend character in your game look like me?"

You were staring at him. Your hand was still on the mini fridge door but you weren't moving. Your face had gone from pale to flushed and your mouth was slightly open like you wanted to say something but couldn't figure out what. Heeseung's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat and his hands were shaking and he'd just word vomited the entire situation at you without taking a single breath but he couldn't take it back now. You closed the mini fridge. Didn't get water, just stood there looking at him like you were seeing him for the first time. Your eyes were moving across his face, his hair, his shoulders, like you were checking something or maybe confirming something.

"Yes," you said finally. Your voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.

The word hung in the air between you. Heeseung felt something in his chest crack open, something between relief and panic and a feeling he didn't have a name for.

"Yes he looks like you," you continued, louder now. "Exactly like you and I thought I was going crazy and I thought Jungwon had somehow used photos of you without telling me, or that I was seeing patterns that weren't there, or that I'd just completely lost my mind. But it was you."

Heeseung took a step closer without meaning to. "You played it last friday."

"Yes."

"Around six thirty."

"Yes."

"And things got—" he stopped, couldn't say it.

"Intense." You finished for him. Your face was completely red now. 

"So it was real." Heeseung's voice sounded strange. "We were playing together. We were with each other and we didn't know it."

You were breathing faster now. He could see your chest rising and falling under your hoodie. "So when I— when we—"

"Yeah." The room got quiet after that. You looked at him and he looked back and there it was again, that pull from the game, except now there was no screen between you. Just him standing in your dorm with his messy hair and that hoodie you'd seen in the character creator, and you knowing exactly how his hands felt even though you'd never actually touched him before. Your breath caught. His did it too, you saw his chest hitch. Neither of you said anything, you both just moved, like someone had pressed play at the same time. He leaned in, you tilted up, and your mouths met in the middle.

You kissed at the same time.

His mind was racing: this is real, this is actually happening. No reset button, no save file, and he could not stop it even if he tried. Your lips were soft and moving against his in a way that made his hands come out of his pockets and find your waist, pulling you in a bit. You felt his fingers press into the fabric of your hoodie, and you responded by sliding your hands up to his shoulders, gripping the soft material there.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushed yours lightly, exploratory, and you leaned into it, your back arching off the mini fridge as he stepped closer, bodies pressing together now. A small sound escaped you, not a moan exactly, but something involuntary, and Heeseung reacted by tilting his head more, his hand moving up your back under the hoodie, fingers splaying against your skin, warm and calloused a little. His hands shook a little on your hips, and thank god there were no pop up flashing with options like "kiss deeper" or "pull away," and no dialogue tree to pick from. 

You broke for air just a second, foreheads touching, both of you breathing hard. "this is way better than the game," he muttered, voice low and rough, with a tiny grin pulling at his lips.

You huffed a laugh, your hands still on his shoulders. "Shut up." 

You pulled him back in before he could say anything else. This kiss was different, harder, more sure. Your teeth caught his bottom lip and he made a noise he'd be embarrassed about later. His hand came up to your face, thumb against your cheek. Your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged and he pressed you back against the fridge hard enough that the door rattled. He kissed down your jaw, taking his time, and you tilted your head to give him room. Your breathing was coming in short bursts. He got to your neck and stayed there, face buried against your skin, breathing you in. You made a sound that kinda sounded like a purr and that did something in him. In his head, he was scrambling, piecing together bits from the game, like the survey thing, where things got rough, when he knew you liked it rough. But now? No way, he wanted this slow, careful, the way you deserved. He slowed his kisses on your neck, his thumb tracing small circles on your side under the hoodie. Don't rush, idiot, his brain nagged, you're not on a timer here. 

He pulled back just a bit, forehead against yours, and said, "Sorry, this was kinda... out of nowhere."

You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. "It wasn't."

He looked at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. "If this is weird for you though. With everything. I can stop."

"No." You said it fast, then quieter. "I want this."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." you paused, then added quieter, "I haven't stopped thinking about it. Or… you. I can't stop thinking about you."

His brain glitched hard at that. wWait, she what? Holy shit, okay, don't screw this up. And he leaned in again, kissing you deeper now, hands sliding up your back, pulling you flush against him. He nipped at your lip, testing, as things heated back up, his pulse loud in his ears. You pushed him back gently, hands on his chest, guiding him across the room step by step until his back hit the wall with a soft thud. The kiss turned messy then, tongues clashing, breaths mixing in quick gasps, neither of you holding back anymore. Your lips moved to his jaw, nipping lightly, then down to his neck, sucking at the skin there.

He let out an uncontrolled whine, his hands tightening on your hips. That sound made you bolder, so you slipped one hand under his hoodie, fingers tracing the warm skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. You pulled back up to kiss him again, fast and urgent, teeth grazing his lip. He bent his knees a bit, hands sliding down to your thighs, and lifted you up in one smooth motion. Your legs wrapped around his torso automatically, and he spun you around, pressing your back against the wall now. No action option popped up in his head, no prompt telling him what to do next — he'd done it all on instinct, and that made a quick flash of pride hit him, like he was finally off script, just going with it.

Between kisses, you murmured against his mouth, "Hee, you feel so good."

"You too, god" he breathed back, voice rough. He pressed in closer, his body flush against yours, the bulge in his pants obvious now between your legs. You let out a quiet moan, your head tipping back against the wall. He kept you pinned there against the wall, his hips rolling slow against yours in a rhythm that matched your breaths, each grind pulling a small gasp from you. His hands slid up under your hoodie, fingers spreading wide over your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra as he kissed you deeper, tongue sweeping in like he couldn't get enough. You arched into his touch and nipped at his earlobe, then soothed it with your tongue. He shivered, a low groan escaping him, and you felt him harden more against you, the friction sending sparks up your spine.

He lowered you slowly to the floor, knees bending as he guided you toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. You tugged at his hoodie, pulling it over his head in one messy motion, his hair falling wild as it came off. His skin was warm, flushed, and you ran your hands over his chest, thumbs circling his nipples until they peaked under your touch. He laughed softly, a little breathless, as he peeled your hoodie off next, tossing it aside. His fingers traced the strap of your bra, slipping it down your shoulder before leaning in to kiss the exposed skin.

You pushed him back onto the bed, climbing onto his lap, your thighs straddling his as you ground down slowly, feeling his erection press right where you needed it. His hands gripped your hips, guiding the motion. As his fingers worked the clasp of your bra, letting it fall away, Heeseung's mind clicked into place: this was infinitely better than any simulator. In the game it was all presets, like surveys and options that guessed at what you liked, scripted responses that felt good but flat. Here, he could watch your reactions for real, feel the way your body tensed or relaxed under his hands, discover the spots that made you squirm without a pop up telling him what to do. No algorithms dictating the pace; just trial and error, his lips on your skin, learning from every shiver, every moan. Why settle for a program when he could map you out himself, piece by piece?

Things picked up then, his mouth closing over one of your nipples, tongue flicking slow at first, then sucking harder when you arched into it, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Hee, yes— like that," you breathed, grinding down firmer, the wet heat between your legs soaking through against his sweatpants. He switched sides, hand cupping the other breast, thumb rolling over the peak. He helped you take your sweatpants off, and then his free hand slipped between you, fingers pressing over your clit through your panties, rubbing in tight circles that had you moaning louder, hips bucking. You reached down, palming him through his pants, feeling the outline of his cock twitch under your hand. "You're so hard already," you said, squeezing gently, watching his face contort. He thrust up into your touch, a whine slipping out as he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and deep. 

His fingers dipped under your waistband now, sliding through your slick folds, one dipping inside you slow, curling just right. "So wet, fuck," he whispered, adding another finger, pumping steadily as his thumb found your clit again. You rocked against his hand, breaths coming faster, and tugged at his sweatpants, freeing him enough to wrap your fingers around his length, stroking slow from base to tip, thumb swiping over the precum beading there. He bucked into your grip, groaning into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. "Keep going," he panted, fingers speeding up inside you, hitting that spot that made your toes curl.

You sped up your strokes, matching his rhythm, the slick sound of your hand on him mixing with the wet push of his fingers in you. He dropped his head to your shoulder, mouthing at your neck, teeth grazing skin as his free hand gripped your thigh hard enough to leave marks. You rolled your palm over the head on every upstroke, spreading the precum down his length, and he thrust into your fist harder, a low whine catching in his throat. His hips stuttered, thrusts into your hand getting erratic, and you felt him swell thicker against your palm. Suddenly he grabbed your wrist, stopping your movement, chest heaving. "I can't— fuck— I'll cum so fast like this."

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding quick, "Fuck, okay." He kissed you hard once more, then pulled his fingers out slow, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean while looking right at you. You bit your lip, heat rushing lower. You shifted back a bit, still catching your breath. "You got a condom?"

"Oh shit," he muttered, eyes widening. He reached down to his sweatpants, still tangled around one thigh from your handjob. And dug into the pocket, fumbling for his wallet. You leaned in, kissing along his neck slow, tongue flicking the spot that made him shiver earlier, just to keep him distracted. He huffed as he finally pulled out the foil packet. He glanced at it, then chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. In the game you didn't need this shit — couldn't exactly knock up pixel pussy. 

He tore the packet open with his teeth, rolling it on quick but careful, hand stroking himself once to settle it. Then he nudged you back onto the bed, settling between your legs as you lay on your back. He kicked off the sweatpants fully, nearly tripping when they caught on his ankle, and you both grinned at the awkward shuffle. He hovered over you, one hand bracing by your head, the other guiding himself, tip brushing through your folds once, twice, coating in your wetness. "You okay?" he asked, voice low, eyes locked on yours.

"Yeah, fuck, please," you said, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him closer.

He pushed in slow, the head of his cock breaching you first, that initial stretch making him grit his teeth; tight, wet heat wrapping around him like a vice, slick from all the buildup, but still enough resistance that he had to ease forward inch by inch. His breath caught sharp in his throat, eyes squeezing shut for a second as the sensation hit him full force: warm walls fluttering around him, pulling him deeper, the condom dulling it just a bit but not enough to hide how perfectly you fit, how your body gave way but clung at the same time. He bottomed out with a low groan, hips flush against yours, and stayed there, pulsing inside you, the fullness making his thighs tense.

This was miles better than the game. In the sim, it was all smooth, predictable friction, coded to feel good but always a step removed, like jacking off to a video. Here, though, buried deep in you, he felt every twitch, every squeeze of your cunt around his cock, the real heat radiating through him, the way your wetness coated him completely, Making each tiny shift send sparks up his spine. It was messy and raw, just the obscene reality of how soaked you were, how his balls pressed between your thighs, heavy and tight, begging for more. He started moving then, slow pulls back and thrusts in, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he found a rhythm. You arched up to meet him, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red lines he could feel stinging already. "Fuck, you're taking me so well," he muttered, voice wrecked, as he snapped his hips harder once, watching your tits bounce with the impact. He leaned down, mouth latching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to bruise while he ground deep, cock dragging along your walls, hitting spots that made you clench tighter around him.

Your legs tightened around his waist, heels pressing into his back, urging him faster, and he obliged, thrusts turning rougher, the bed creaking under you both. He could hear the squelch each time he buried himself balls-deep, your pussy gripping him. "So fucking wet," he groaned against your skin, one hand sliding down to grab your ass, pulling you onto him harder. You moaned louder, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging as he pounded in, the angle shifting so his pubic bone ground against your clit with every thrust.

He flipped you over suddenly, hands on your hips yanking you up onto all fours, and slid back in from behind in one smooth push, deeper this way, his cock curving just right to make you gasp. He started railing you, skin slapping loud, his balls smacking against you with each brutal thrust. You pushed back against him, meeting every snap, your walls fluttering around him, milking him tighter. He reached around, fingers finding your clit, rubbing messy circles while he fucked you harder.

His mind flashed back to the game then, that kink survey popping up, how you'd picked options that leaned heavy into rough. He wondered if it carried over, if real you craved that edge too. Testing it, he drew back a hand and landed a smack on your ass, not too hard, just enough to sting and make the flesh jiggle under his palm. The sound cracked through the room, sharp over the wet slaps of his thrusts. You moaned low, pushing back harder against him, your pussy clenching tight around his cock like a reflex. That reaction lit him up — okay, she likes it — and he felt bolder, the dom side kicking in without overthinking. "Yeah, you take that so good," he groaned, rubbing the spot he smacked, soothing the heat before landing another, a bit firmer this time, watching your skin pink up. 

He kept pounding in, deep and steady, the angle letting him hit that spot inside you that made your knees buckle a little. Reaching forward, he grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms back and pinning them at the small of your back with one hand, your chest dropping lower to the mattress. It arched your ass higher, letting him drive deeper, his free hand gripping your hip hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. The restraint made everything tighter, your walls hugging his cock obscenely, slick dripping down his balls with each thrust. "Fuck, I can't take it anymore," he panted, voice breaking as he felt you flutter around him, the build-up coiling tight in his gut.

"Hee—close, I'm so close," you gasped, face pressed into the sheets, hips grinding back desperate now. He picked up the pace, thrusts turning frantic, skin slapping louder, his balls tightening as he railed you harder. "Come on, let go for me, you feel so good clenching like that," he muttered, leaning over you, breath hot on your back. The friction built fast, your moans turning high and broken, and he felt you shatter first, your pussy spasming hard around his cock, milking him in waves, wetness gushing out and coating his thighs. That pushed him over, his hips stuttering as he buried deep one last time, groaning loud as he came, pulsing inside you, the condom catching every thick spurt while your bodies locked together, shaking through it.

You both stayed like that for a minute, chests heaving, sweat cooling on your skin, the room thick with the smell of sex. He was still buried inside you, pulsing faintly with aftershocks, but he didn't want it to end yet. Slowly, he eased out, the condom slick and heavy as he tied it off and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. His hands loosened on your wrists, letting your arms fall forward as you collapsed onto your stomach with a soft groan. He leaned down, lips brushing the small of your back, tasting the salt there, then lower, kissing along the curve where your spine dipped. His teeth grazed the swell of your ass, biting just hard enough to make you twitch, then soothing it with his tongue. You pushed back slightly, thighs parting on instinct, and he took the invitation— hands spreading you open as he dragged his tongue slow from your asshole down to your entrance, lapping up the mess you'd both made. The taste hit him full: tangy, musky, mixed with the latex from the condom and your arousal, thick and real coating his tongue. He groaned into you, diving deeper, tongue pushing inside your pussy, curling to scoop out more, nose buried against you as he ate you out sloppy from behind.

Your hips started rocking back, muffled moans into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets. He kept going, alternating broad licks up your slit with flicks over your clit, then back to spearing his tongue inside, feeling your walls flutter again. His face was soaked now, chin dripping, lips swollen, as he sucked your clit into his mouth, humming low. You tensed hard, thighs shaking, and came again with a broken cry, pushing back against his face, wetness flooding his mouth as he licked you through it, not stopping until you sagged limp.

He pulled back finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand but mostly just smearing it, face shiny and wrecked. He flipped you over gentle, onto your back, and just looked; your cheeks flushed deep red, hair stuck to your forehead, neck and thighs dotted with fresh bruises from his mouth and grip, chest rising fast. You looked completely fucked out, eyes half lidded, lips bitten raw. His gaze dropped to himself: cock half hard again already, hanging heavy, the used condom on the floor bloated with his load, cum visible through the latex. This was nothing like the game. There, everything reset clean, no mess, no lingering taste on his tongue, no actual bruises blooming on skin. Here, he could smell you on his face, feel the ache in his jaw from eating you out, see the evidence of how hard he'd fucked you. Way better. Infinitely better.

He crawled up beside you, collapsing half on top, one leg tangled with yours, hand resting on your stomach as you both caught your breath again. The air was still thick, sheets twisted around your ankles, and Heeseung shifted a little closer, propping his head on one hand to look at you. He picked up your hand, fingers tracing over your knuckles before bringing them to his lips, kissing each one slow, like he was checking they were real. "Hey," he said soft, "was is... good for you?"

You glanced away for a second, cheeks heating up again, then nodded. "Yeah. Really good." Your voice came out quieter than you meant, thumb brushing his wrist. He smiled small, relieved, and pressed another kiss to your fingertips. You swallowed, still coming down, and mumbled, "want some water?"

"Yeah I'll get it," he said quick, already pushing up. He swung his legs off the bed and stood, then paused mid step, one hand going to his lower back with a quiet "Ow—shit." He stretched a bit, wincing. Last time he'd moved like that was... well, in the game and pixels don't pull muscles. He huffed a laugh at himself and shuffled over to the mini fridge, the floor cool under his feet.

He grabbed two bottles, cracked one open for you first, and came back, sitting on the edge of the bed close enough that his knee bumped yours. You sat up a little, taking the water, and he reached out, fingers threading through your messy hair, smoothing it back gently while you drank. His touch was light, almost absent minded, but steady. You lowered the bottle and just looked at him— hair sticking up, lips swollen, a faint red mark on his neck from earlier. You let out a soft laugh, nose scrunching. he raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Hi."

"Hi," you said back, still smiling.

He tilted his head, thumb brushing your cheek. "You need to pee."

You snorted, covering your face with one hand. "Yes, I know." He didn't even hesitate, just slid his arms under you, one behind your back, the other under your knees, and lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped quietly, arms looping around his neck on reflex. "Hee—"

"I got you," he muttered, carrying you across the room to the bathroom door, stepping carefully around the clothes scattered on the floor. He set you down gentle inside, kissed your forehead quick, and pulled the door almost shut behind you. "Take your time." You heard him flop back onto the bed with a dramatic groan, probably rubbing his back again, and couldn't help smiling to yourself in the mirror.

When you came back, he was sitting on the edge of your bed, boxers pulled on, knees apart, elbows resting on his thighs. He looked up as the bathroom door opened and gave you this small, lopsided smile, half awkward, half couldn't-hide-it-if-he-tried glad. His hair was still a mess, sticking up where your fingers had been, and he rubbed the back of his neck like he didn't know where to put his hands now. You walked over and sat next to him, close enough that your thighs touched, the mattress dipping a little under both of you.

For a second neither of you said anything, just the quiet hum of the mini fridge and the faint rustle of sheets when you shifted. He glanced at you sideways. "So... that happened."

You huffed a small laugh, pulling your knees up. "Yeah. It did."

He was quiet for a moment. "Was it—" he stopped, started again. "I don't want you to think that's why I came here. Or that I expected—"

"I know."

"Because we don't really know each other. Like, actually know each other. And I don't want you to feel like this was too much or—"

"Don't we though?"

He looked at you. "What?"

"Know each other." You tucked your hair behind your ear. "I lived all of it with you. In the game."

"Yeah but that wasn't—"

"The date in the park," you said. "You picked that flower for me. The one that was glowing.” Heeseung was very still now, watching you. "And we played League together," you continued. "Destroyed my exes, even though they don't even exist in real life. Also, you were so smug about it, kept emoting after every kill, I thought you were so cute. And then we cooked pasta at my place and you almost burned the garlic and I had to help you and we ended up just—" you stopped, smiled a little. "It felt easy and natural like I'd known you forever. And the dates after that. Like the arcade, that hiking trail." You were looking at your hands now. "And then the park again at night. You told me you were falling for me. I remember it all too well. It was the most real thing that's ever happened to me." You finally looked at him. "And when I met you at the party and realized you were an actual person, I freaked out. Because how was I supposed to deal with the fact that I'd already fallen for you before we'd even met?"

"You—" his voice cracked slightly. "You fell for me?"

"Yeah." You said it simple, like it was obvious. "In the game. I didn't know it was you, but I felt everything. And then when Jungwon texted me about the update, I couldn't — I had to play it again. I had to see you again, even if it was just in the game. I thought it was just the game being really immersive and really realistic and I didn't think you were actually there."

Heeseung let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "I thought the same thing but I couldn't figure out what else it could be."

"And then we both avoided each other for a week." You laughed, dropping your head against his shoulder. "We're idiots."

"Complete idiots." He leaned his head against yours. "But like, in our defense, how were we supposed to know we were accidentally having virtual sex through a Nintendo Switch?"

You snorted, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Please never say that sentence again."

"Which part, the virtual sex or the Nintendo Switch?"

"Both. That whole thing."

He was grinning now. "But it happened."

"Ynfortunately yes."

"And it was—" he stopped.

"Really good," you finished.

He pulled back a little, just enough to look at you, his fingers sliding up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, thumb brushing your cheek. "Yeah. It was. But this way is better." You smiled, he did too. But then he paused, and said quieter, "We don't have to figure it all out right now, you know. The whole... what this means. But," he swallowed, hand dropping to lace with yours on the sheet. "If you want to. If you're down... I'd really like to try this for real. Like, dates that don't require a Switch cartridge. Real hiking and a real arcade. And the boring real stuff too."

You turned your hand over, squeezing his fingers. "Boring real stuff sounds good."

"Yeah?" His smile went soft, relieved, and he shifted closer, knee bumping yours. His free hand came up to your waist, pulling you gently until you were half in his lap, legs tangled again. He kissed you slow then, nothing rushed, just lips moving soft, his hand splaying warm on your back. You kissed back, fingers threading through the hair at his nape, tugging lightly when he deepened it a bit. He pulled away just enough to breathe, lips still grazing yours. "This okay?"

"More than okay," you murmured, chasing his mouth for another quick kiss. He smiled into it, then another, hand sliding up your spine, thumb tracing lazy lines. You broke apart for air, but stayed close, foreheads together. "So," you said, poking his chest. "First real date. You picking or me?"

"I owe you that glowing flower," he said, fingers playing with your hair. "But like, from an actual field this time."

You laughed softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. "Deal. But you're still helping with the garlic."

He groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the pillow and pulling you with him so you landed half on his chest. "Fine. But no emoting when I burn it."

You settled there, ear over his heartbeat, his arms wrapping loose around you. "We'll see."

And you did see, because you saw him burn garlic three more times over the next month, and you emoted every single time, just to watch him get flustered and defensive about it. And the dates weren't like the game. There were no perfectly timed sunsets or fireflies that landed on cue. 

Your first real date was at a diner near campus at two in the afternoon because that's when you both had free time between classes. He ordered pancakes and you stole half of them. The syrup was too sweet and the coffee was burnt and it was perfect anyway. You went to an arcade on a Tuesday night because you both thought it would be funny and all the good machines were broken. Heeseung spent twenty bucks trying to win you a stuffed cat from the claw machine and failed every time, just like the game. You ended up buying one from the prize counter with your own money and he carried it around for the rest of the night looking mildly offended. The hiking trail he took you on wasn't the picturesque mountain path from the game. It was a local trail that was mostly flat and next to a highway. You could hear cars the entire time. He tripped over a root and almost took you down with him. But he held your hand the whole way and pointed out a bird he thought was cool, and when you sat on a bench to rest, he kissed you and it tasted like the granola bars you'd been sharing.

You learned things about him that the game had never shown you. That he was grumpy in the mornings and needed at least ten minutes of silence before he could form coherent sentences. That he had a specific way of organizing his desk and got stressed when things were out of place. That he laughed at his own jokes before he finished telling them and it was the most endearing thing you'd ever seen. Meanwhile, he learned that you talked to yourself when you were concentrating, narrating your own thoughts out loud without realizing it. That you had strong opinions about which anime openings were skippable and which were sacred. That you stress baked at midnight and would show up at his dorm at one am with cookies that were still warm and slightly misshapen.

You played League together and he actually did run it down once and you flamed him for fifteen minutes straight. He took you to his favorite boba place and you hated the drink you ordered but drank it anyway because you didn't want to admit you'd made a mistake. He noticed and switched cups with you without saying anything.

And the domestic stuff was better than any game could've captured: grocery shopping together and arguing about which brand of ramen to buy; him falling asleep on your shoulder during study sessions in the library; you stealing his hoodies and him pretending to be annoyed but leaving them at your place on purpose. The way he'd text you random memes at three am just because he thought you'd find them funny. The way you'd save the last bite of your food for him without thinking about it. It was real and messy and nothing like the perfect dates the game had generated. It was so much better.

Three months in, Jungwon decided he wanted to do a pizza night at his place. Make-your-own-pizza, he'd said. It'll be fun, he'd said. He'd assigned everyone tasks and you and Heeseung got stuck with grocery shopping because apparently you were the only ones who could be trusted not to forget something important. Which is how you ended up in the pasta sauce aisle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon, having an increasingly heated debate about pizza sauce. "This one has basil already in it," Heeseung said, holding up a jar.

"But that one's too sweet. We need the plain one so we can add our own seasonings." You grabbed a different jar.

"Nobody's going to taste the difference."

"I'm going to taste the difference!"

"Yeah, that's because ou have the most specific opinions about things that don't matter."

"Excuse me, pizza sauce matters. This is important." He looked at you, standing there in your hoodie and jeans with your hair falling out of your bun, holding a jar of pasta sauce like it was a matter of life and death, and he felt something in his chest shift. You'd been arguing about groceries for ten minutes. Before that it had been flour — he'd grabbed all purpose and you'd insisted on bread flour even though Jungwon probably wouldn't care. You had strong opinions about olive oil brands. You'd spent five minutes reading the labels on different types of cheese. It was so mundane and domestic and real and he was so gone for you it was ridiculous.

Heeseung caught your wrist and pulled you back. You turned, surprised, the jar of sauce still in your hand. "What?" He just looked at you for a second. The fluorescent grocery store lighting was terrible and someone's kid was screaming two aisles over and the store radio was playing a compressed version of some pop song from five years ago. Nothing about this moment was romantic or special or anything like the game would've generated.

"You know," he said, "if this was a cooking game, you'd be picking all the wrong action options right now."

You laughed. "What?"

"The wrong sauce. Insisting on fresh garlic when the jarred stuff is right there. Making this way more complicated than it needs to be." He was smiling now, pulling you closer. "You'd be failing the efficiency route."

"Good thing this isn't a game then."

"Yeah." His other hand came up to your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Good thing." You were looking at him with this soft expression, waiting for whatever he was going to say, and Heeseung realized he'd been waiting for the perfect moment for weeks now. The right time, the right place, the right words. But standing in a grocery store on a random Saturday arguing about pizza sauce felt more right than any perfectly rendered sunset could've been. "I love you," he said.

You went very still. "What?"

"I love you." He said it again, steadier this time. "And I want to finally beat fuck ass Girlfriend Simulator. Make it official."

"Heeseung—"

"I want to complete the Girlfriend Simulator route," he continued, and he was grinning now because he could see you trying not to smile. "Get the good ending. Unlock the girlfriend achievement."

You laughed. "You're such a nerd."

"Yeah, I know. so?" He squeezed your hand. "Will you be my girlfriend? For real this time?"

You set the jar of sauce down on the nearest shelf, not even checking if it was the right spot, and kissed him. Right there in the middle of the grocery store with terrible lighting and screaming children and elevator music playing overhead. His arms came around you and you could feel him smiling against your mouth. When you pulled back, you were both grinning like idiots. "Yes," you said. "Obviously yes.” 

And you kissed him. His arms came around you and you could feel him smiling against your mouth. You pulled back just a little, hands sliding up to rest on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. The kiss turned slower then, softer, your lips brushing his again and again like you couldn't quite stop. He made this quiet hum, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking the skin there while the other stayed firm on your waist, keeping you close. Some lady pushed her cart past you both, wheels squeaking on the linoleum, but neither of you moved.

When you finally broke apart, foreheads still touching, you were both breathing a little harder. "I love you too," you said, voice low but steady. "Obviously. And I'm really glad I beat Boyfriend Simulator."

He laughed soft, nose bumping yours. "Wait." His face went serious all of a sudden, eyes narrowing. "That was the name of your game? Boyfriend Simulator?"

"Yeah." You bit your lip, trying not to grin too big. "Jungwon said it was different from Girlfriend Simulator because this one has a multiplayer option."

He shook his head slow, arms still around you, holding you there in the aisle like he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. You both just stood there, wrapped up in each other between the shelves of pasta sauce, carts rumbling by, some kid yelling about cereal in the distance. Heeseung stared at you, processing, then let out this quiet groan, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "I'm going to kill Yang Jungwon."

You laughed into his hair, fingers threading through it at the nape of his neck. "Get in line."

[GAME COMPLETE] GOOD ENDING UNLOCKED: REAL LIFE ROUTE ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: GIRLFRIEND.EXE NEW GAME+ AVAILABLE: THE REST OF YOUR LIVES

taglist: @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @saeris-world @jayparked @solonenova @izzyy-stuff  @gh9sty @xoenhalover @bambiens @hoonsocks @jaeyunflix @yvampyr @wonmuse

© all rights reserved @/heejamas — do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works without explicit permission. these are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real-life actions, thoughts, or personalities of any public figures

[goon4hoon]

S.JY | The Lion Does..

LionHybrid!Jake x Human!Reader

MDNI (SMUT)

Synopsis: How much more can Jake endure before he reminds his lovely owner that she didn't adopt a cute, oversized cat... but a whole fucking lion?

w.c: 6.5k

Warnings!! unprotected p in v, dubcon, hybrid erotica, deflowerization, angry sex, dirty-talk, degradation, overstim, finger gag, nipple stim, oral sex f! receiver, fingering, breeding kink, restriction, dacryphilia. (dw Jake didn't fuck in THAT form)

note: just came across this pic of jake on pinterest (the eyeglasses one) so credits to the editor, tnx mwuah for the vision. Now here comes the lion hybrid!jake. Have fun reading this before I admit I lowkey got a furry kink. And no, this story is not as tame as it looks. Please don't judge it by its cover. It's definitely not CUTE. Enjoy, weird ppl like me!

taglist: one nd only, @yuristhend. tysm for supporting, ily!! <3

Morphic Hybrid /mɔːrfɪk ˈhaɪbrɪd/ noun | A hybrid organism capable of shifting between two distinct biological states. The first is a Full Beast Form, which is anatomically identical to the animal counterpart. The second is a Partial Form, characterized by a human skeletal structure that permanently retains specific apex-predator traits, including feline ears, a muscular tail, and a heavily papillated tongue.

Most children grew up with the nostalgic scent of home, so familiar it starts clinging to their skin—fresh laundry, dinner simmering on the stove, sun-dried clothes and warm blankets, and the faint perfume of their mother's shampoo.

Yours, however, smelled different. It smelled... more alive.

Your nose had, after all, grown familiar with the many scents the world had to offer inside the hybrid facility. It ranged from heady, pungent ones like those synthetic rubbers and disinfectants found in the clinic and entryways, to the warm and musky scent of dogs overpowered by the sharp ammoniacal tang of feline litter boxes, and to the sweet, comforting smell of hay and wood shavings for rabbits and rodents residing the domestic animal quarters.

But what you loved most was the distinct musky and earthy scent that lingered in the wildlife and exotic zone—the section where you spent majority of your childhood days.

Growing up as a volunteer slash daughter of the founder, you had all the privilege to indulge in it. There you handled almost everything: from tamed mammals, to traumatized avian hybrids, to defensive wolves. The facility housed various classes, but it was the morphic hybrids that truly fascinated you—those capable of shifting fluidly between a full beast state and a partial human form. In fact, you met almost every tamed kind there could be—the loving dog hybrids, the bubbly rabbit ones. Yet, ironically for a child you were—your specialty had been.. the apex predators.

They are at the top of the food chain. Hunter, killer in every sense nature made them be. They can be volatile, ruthless, and all the danger people could name—yet they remained cared for by you. After all, you believe they were fostered for a reason; some were late to their instinct, some were no longer as strong, and some were just… plain victims, at least, that's majority of the case with your most favorite species among all—the lion hybrids.

King of the jungle they say, but it can't be helped if you always found yourself drawn to the weary softness hidden beneath their feral nature. Perhaps that was why your heart had always ached a little more for them than for the others. More so, that one of them was the one dearest to you—Apex 115 Jake.

He was barely a cub when the facility brought him in. Cold, weak, and on the verge of dying. Jake was almost a victim of pride infanticide, actively hunted down to be killed after a reign takeover amidst the messy politics in the Leonin world. At that age, morphic cubs like him are completely at the mercy of their wilder instincts, incapable of utilizing a human form to hide or survive. Fortunately for him though, he was found in the arms of a lioness who surrendered him to the hands of mankind for his salvation, which eventually led him to this facility by the rescue of your father.

That's when you entered his life.

When you first saw Jake, you remembered how weak and thin he was, but because of it you got even more drawn to him. Sick but still adorable with his perked, oversized lion ears that twitched at every sound. His long, expressive tail that whips back and forth whenever he's excited, and the way his luminous eyes with slitted pupils widen whenever he's in a particular mood.

Ever since then, the twelve year old you stayed up through the night carrying and bottle-feeding him—and it went on until he'd grown cub enough that the two of you can finally nuzzle underneath warm blankets, whispering cooes and comforts, and promises that he's safe in your arms, safe in the hybrid facility.

As he grew, you had the privilege of watching him step out of the beast wards and into a human routine. He forced his wild instincts into a human skeletal frame just so he could walk beside you through the facility gardens, holding books for you and listening intently to your stories. You taught him how to read human expressions, how to laugh quietly, and how to navigate a world that didn't rely on claws. Truly, you grew up side-by-side, sharing a bond so deep it blurred the lines between caretaker and family.

But, it wasn't forever—not long enough you’ve grown up preparing to be an adult too.

Jake, who aged up slightly faster than humans, was already in his late juvenile years when it happened. He vividly remembers the time you prepped to enter college—how your days with him switched to evenings full of entrance exam reviewers, how cuddles turned into your personal rest time, or the way you packed your bags for university abroad, and the way he had screamed and clawed at the enclosure gates, young voice cracking with a desperate, adolescent heartbreak as he watched you walk away.

The lion didn't know how to deal with the thought of permanently losing you.

Until eventually, he had learnt how to survive without you too. After your departure, Jake gradually entered his prime mane and was guaranteed freedom. Like the other morphics, he didn't need to practice being a wild hunter, instead, living in society meant he had to blend and master his shape-shifting. He had to learn how to perfectly tame his wild lion traits and dress a normal human behavior. In that world, Jake had studied, made friends, built skills and experiences, and tasted almost everything society had to offer. And with no one to control him and his urges, he knew how to be slightly rebellious. He had learnt how to party, mingle, and sex, and use his free will with no regards. To put short, Jake had learnt how to use his power and instinct and became the man he is.

But, beneath it all is still someone with grave longing. He could not help but occasionally come back to the hybrid facility, except he's no longer the cute, adorable cub that once homed there. Because visiting now was a powerful adult shifter—a capable man who could easily change from a tall, strong human into a massive, full-grown lion whenever he wanted. The Jake standing before them is now one with pride and conviction. Yet, despite his dangerous frame, his longer hair, and a gaze more predatory than ever, he suppressed all of that power just to curate the perfect image of softness. After all, despite how much he had changed, he still feels the same—he’s still the same Jake who loved you more than anything else in the world.

So, he frequently visited, all in hopes to see you again and make up for all the lost times with him. He did all that because you gave him something to hold on to—you promised to come back.

And sure you did—because five years later, your feet stepped in the facility's entryway again—because you too, loved Jake more than anything else in the world.

Except, your love for him didn't seem to measure the same depth he had for you.

The excitement of bringing him home to your apartment as a licensed foster lion was supposed to be a dream come true. But it looked like the universe had played a trick on the timeline. You had left a lanky, dependent lion in his juvenile years, only to return home to a fully matured apex predator.

But your brain couldn’t seem to update the software. To you, Jake was still the fragile cub who used to sleep curled around your neck. You still used that soft loving, cooing tone. You still patted his head like a tabby cat, completely blind to the way his broad shoulders had filled out, the way his jaw had hardened, or the way his luminous eyes darkled every time your gaze dipped. You completely failed to see the capable adult standing right in front of you—a man with two legs, a man who had successfully conquered his shifting biology to build an independent life in the real world. To your eyes, he was still just a facility rescue, entirely missing the fact that he had grown into a man with his own mind and maturity.

While you were still giving him the innocent affection of a childhood friend, Jake was looking at the new, soft curves of your body with the heavy, unblinking focus of a hunter who had finally found his mate.

He had held his breath for two months. He swallowed all the stain you left in his pride. He had tolerated the baby talk, the humiliating little head scratches, and the absolute denial of his masculinity. He had bided his time, letting the pressure cook under his skin until the seams were screaming to rip open. But it seemed you still could not get the message. You couldn't pick up on his cues, way too naive to realize he's no longer just a fucking cub or a kitten, but a whole lion with manliness and indecent urges. He hated how you couldn't see it.

Just like what's happening at this very moment.

The two of you were sprawled across the carpeted floor, your back resting against the edge of the couch seat, using it as support while you sat comfortably on the ground. Beside your legs lay Lion Jake on his stomach, and he reluctantly settled there by swallowing his dignity, acting like the ‘cute cat’ he thinks you preferred him be.

You're pampering him again, holding a brush loosely in your hand and drawing it through his fur again and again, the soft teeth gliding through his messy strands with slow patience. But each stroke only made Jake wince in annoyance. Each stroke forcefully lulls his mantra of holding himself back from completely snapping.

“You smell so good, baby..” you whispered softly, putting down the hairbrush on the coffee table and replacing it with your fingers instead. You play with each strand, running your tips until it reaches his scalp then scratching it like your usual massages.

Jake just grumbled in response. You noticed it, of course. But it came across to you as him demanding for more. Never really understanding the issue going on, you kept on doing just that.

Sigh, here you are with your unsolicited affection again.

I mean—he knows damn well how much you love him, and he loves you even more than that. Hell, he dropped everything he had just to be with you again—all the autonomy, the dreams, and opportunities? They all got thrown out the window the second you came back. He chose to sacrifice everything just so he can finally get closer to you, but who would've thought things would turn out like this?

He felt grateful that you took care of him, fed him, and pampered him to death—but it seemed it all catered for his lion form. A part of him felt jealous of another side of himself—he can't help but feel envy of his own other half.

Jake's heart could only clench at the thought that you can love him only as a pet, and never as the man he can be.

And the man he is, sometimes it's way too much especially with you around.

Your favorite part about having Jake in your home is the infinite cuddles you can get whenever and however you want. With his warm and thick body, you can't help but drown yourself in his embrace, just like the good old times. But right now, with his lying stomach position, you can only move on top of his back, palm pressing flat against the rock-hard, massive muscle as you climb.

Your fingers tangled with the dark, unruly locks framing his nape, trying to pet him like how owners do their cats. Lost in its texture, you leaned in and buried your face deep into the thick, heavy mass of hair. Only then did you realize how grown up Jake truly is, mane fully coarse now when it used to be the soft, downy fur he had when he was a cub. Gosh, you missed taking care of his little self.

You indulged yourself in his warmth and continued nuzzling, blindly rubbing your cheek against his body. Completely naive to the danger you're bringing to yourself with a lion around you. Jake hates how close you can be. More so, that he could smell the sweet, milky scent of your skin, and more than that, he could feel everything.

Fuck, he could even feel your tits pressing on his back. So fucking puffy and soft despite your sweater. Surely he can't blame himself for the way his cock starts to harden or the way his luminous eyes start to haze. He could only blame you.

Jake released a panted grunt beneath you, tails flicking hard and thumps faintly every time it hits the floor. You just chuckled, finding his small, subtle tantrums cute instead, stupidly thinking it's all because of your weight over him.

Well, it is and also the warmth of your skin and the way it makes everything worse. Despite all that, Jake just continued showing his displeasure the calm way, when internally, he's been giving you an ultimatum before he decided he's enough with all your teasing, treating everything about him unserious like he's just a fucking oversized cat.

He just let you do it. Letting the warmth of your body on top of him feed the heat simmering under his skin. And just as he thought it won't get any worse—you start cooing cringe names, moving your face closer as you begin showering his feline ear with tiny, wet, and hurried kisses.

That's it.

All those sweet but condescending pet names, that stupid mocking tone, and the wet kisses on his most sensitive spot—the ears—all made Jake's pupils completely dilate until his eyes were almost entirely black.

He let out a low, vibrating growl that rattled your chest, yet you just giggled, still oblivious to the danger. You even hugged him tighter, unconsciously grinding your front further, which made your tits press even harder into his back as you tried to reach around and scratch his chin.

“What's with the purr, Jakey?” you muttered between pecks, continuing your funny business like giving someone—fuck, a man this so much affection is something you take lightly. Jake felt completely bewildered.

Then you stood up, babbling something about giving him ‘treats’. How childish could you be? The lion only tracked your movements with his predatory gaze, not minding to take a breather. He watched as you padded innocently to the kitchen and stopped right before the cabinet embedded in the marble counter.

Fuck him. Now all he could do is to ogle at the sight of you leaning down to reach for the jar of treats, oh, and he doesn't care about that shit, instead he focused on the shape of your plump ass cheeks outlined by your tight and skimpy shorts. You're indeed dumb for wearing this when a man is under the same roof.

Or maybe, you forgot he's a man because you're wasting time with the stupid lion.

Jake never felt this hot before. Triggered by your kisses, innocence, stupidness, and the curves of your body, and the way your lips moved while talking to him about choosing between two types of treats—the moment seemed to blur, and that's when he realized he's just an animal, too. A lion with a primal instinct.

You want the lion? Fine, he'll give you.

All your antics quickly died down because in a swift, Jake got up and ran before pouncing into your standing form, quickly pinning you down on the tiled kitchen floor unguarded.

“Jake—!” you screamed, eyes widening in shock from how fast you suddenly went underneath him.

His lion figure hovers over you now as he stared at you with a complete predatory gaze you've never seen before. His luminous eyes were wide, but his slitted pupils had completely blown out into giant, pitch-black circles. It stripped away every ounce of familiarity, his stare totally soulless, dark, and hyper-focused entirely on your squirming frame beneath him.

“Do you think I'm fucking stupid?” He spoke humane despite his current beast form, while you continued to thrash your weak, useless hands to push him away. Your fist made contact with his abdomen but it seemed he didn't even falter, not when he's so strong, and you're just beneath him between his clawed paws.

“Stop. Squirming” Jake rumbled at your failed attempts, his tail now lashing back and forth violently against the floor, a clear sign of his agitation.

But you didn't listen, not when fear and panic is all you could feel while he looked at you like a real lion you failed to acknowledge past him being a pet. Indeed, on top of you is an animal that can be consumed with instincts despite the touch of being humane. You could only pray at the thought of being eaten by the same animal you raised. You can't die this way in his mercy. You have to fight, and you did.

But then he roared at your face, loud and scary, and you felt yourself freezing, limbs gliding back to their place down the floor as they weakened with your nervous state.

Jake watched your glossy eyes look at him with fear along with your body and lips shaking with every breath. You look so powerless now beneath him.

“A-are you mad?” you tried asking, but your voice is breaking with each syllable as your throat tightens.

Fuck, Jake hates how innocent you still looked while all he could think about are the indecent things he could do to you like this.

“Shut up.” He leaned down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his tongue—rough and slightly sandpapery, characteristic of a lion—licked a slow, deliberate path from your chin up to your cheek.

Shivered ran through you when you felt the textured sensation. Yet you can't do much more than tilting your head sideways to avoid it, your own fear trapping you inside your body.

“Don't worry. I won't eat you.” He continued licking you, tilted head only exposed the slant of your neck decorated by a slight sheen of sweat. Each glide of the rough muscle on your skin made you wince, “At least, not in the way you're thinking.”

And then with one fluid, predatory motion, Jake turned you around on your stomach, your cheeks pressed firm against the floor. You flinched at the impact.

“What—” before you could even process, a pair of hands slapped your ass, and the weight on top of you seemed to lighten a little bit.

He's in his human form now. One you haven't seen for long because you’ve always preferred the beast.

Jake pinned your crossed hands tightly on your back as he continued spanking you more in a row, each one just got harder than the last. You shrieked, not really understanding anything going on. You didn't get why he's hurting you, or why he's got that look on him.

“Did you really think I was just some kitten you could smother until you get tired of it?” spank.

“Did you really think the things you do don’t affect me at all?” another hard spank.

You cried out, not from the sting but from all the things he'd been saying. It's like realizing everything is a punishment for a sin you didn't even know you committed.

“Look at me.” Jake demanded, burying his fingers on your hair before taking a fist. Your head lifted as he pulled you upwards. And the sight that greeted you only made you shudder from fear. Jake in his human form, ears planed back in anger, only stared at you with a look you couldn't comprehend. It's all darkled with anger and something else.

“Am I not a fucking man?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with you. You could feel his ragged breath hitting your face. Way too close. “Answer me.” He held your hair tighter, tugging from your scalp.

“Yes, Jake—yes you are. Please!” You choked on your own spit. The ache made you beg for him to let go his grasp, and he did so slowly, and watched you lay down again in your weak state.

“Oh, so you know?” He spat out, tasting the bitter ache in his mouth. His hands returned to your still clothed ass and ran his palms on it, fingertips occasionally ghosting with the hem of your shorts.

You felt his gaze burning behind you, eyes obviously ogling at the sight—the shape of your ass and the way it's squirming between him, he continued doing just that before he went back to spanking it but now more gentler, then giving it a firm squeeze which made you whimper, “Why’d you play naive then, hmm?”

“Every single time we go to bed, what do you do?” He asked with a mocking tone, completely berating you. He didn't even wait for your reply, because in a swift, he leaned down over you, full body weight completely pressing your body into the floor now.

When he’s all laid, Jake quickly buried his face into your nape and gave it wet, tiny pecks as he continued running his hands to the shape of your hips. You could feel the warmth of his breath and the way his tail is flicking, brushing your legs.

“You wrap yourself around me, pressing your bare tits right into my back. And you just had to be wearing that thin little tank top. Is that how a decent woman behaves?"

You feel cornered with each question he drops. You couldn't say you were guilty. You didn't truly know. Not when all you've seen was the cub you loved so long.

“And that’s not all—those unnecessary kisses. Did you really think I couldn't feel a damn thing, huh?” His whisper is way too soft for the filthy choice words. You felt his hands sneaking under your sweater, massaging the plush of your torso. Then, as if he couldn't get enough, he went up further, fingers running the side of your waist back and forth like he's memorizing each of your curves. 

“Climbing me like you're fucking stupid? What am I to you, an animal? a pet?” He's whispering with an underlying snarl now, pressing his fingers on your skin til it bruises, decorating it with faint red marks due to the firm friction he's causing.

“Am I not grown enough in your eyes?” You couldn't even respond, eyes closed shut with all the sensation you're feeling. You can't deny the heat he's causing to your body with every contact. “No?” He repeated asking.

“You—you are...” you finally processed his words and you never felt more hurried to reply in hopes he'll stop. But Jake chose to not listen. He won't stop either way.

“No. You really don't see it? Fine. I guess I’ll just have to force you to see it.” 

Then he lifted his body from you now, sitting on his knees that traps you in between again. You felt his hands tug at the garter of your shorts, and you know already what it meant.

“Don't— wait! no no no..” You started squirming again. Limbs thrashing to stop his hands from completely stripping you bare. Jake just chuckled with precise cruelty, clearly not getting why would you bother fighting when it's all useless.

“Guess you don't like it this way.” and like the bastard he is, he ripped your shorts open in two instead, along with your panties.

“Please! No!” You really cried out of panic now. You felt your tears running down your cheeks while you shiver from the breeze of air brushing coldly on your bare skin.

It seemed he loved the sight before him with the way he stopped moving seconds long. Then you felt him smirking, continuing the way he played with you earlier, fingers ghosting your skin in a pattern. Then he suddenly crawled down, stopping right before your back, his face meeting the plush of your ass cheeks now. The warmth of his breath on your skin a stark contrast to the breeze.

You couldn't do anything with your position. Not when he's holding your legs firm to stop you from squirming again and closing your thighs.

Then, you felt his lips press on your ass. First one being too slow like he's cherishing the taste of his last meal. And he leaned back momentarily, before following it with quick, multiple pecks like he couldn't get enough. 

“Please..just please, I'll treat you better now” you begged him. But the busy Jake didn't even halt a second. His kisses crawled further before burying his face to the gap of your thighs, reaching deeper. Then you felt him press his lips on your soft folds.

“No!” You choked out at the tingling sensation, yet he just chuckled before he stuck out his tongue. The papillated texture glides circular motion at the tissue of your entrance.

You can't help the whimper you let out, feeling the type of warmth so unfamiliar but so painfully good regardless. Your thighs stopped moving but your hands can't help but look for something to grasp firmly to anchor your shaking form.

He continues toying with your folds by flicking his tongue with rhythm while he's holding your thighs open. You trembled, the hands earlier now reaching out to your back to prevent him, fingers wrapping on his face to stop his licking.

Jake kissed his teeth in irritation before he crossed your wrist again with his other hand still holding your thighs. You tried to free and crawl away, but he quickly pulled you back anyway.

“Where you going?” He mocked your efforts to run, grabbing you by the waist and without warning, he bit your folds.

You jolted at the stinging sensation with the way his fangs dug out your thin skin, lips letting out a weak scream. You would've thought he felt guilty with the way he cooed you by crawling upwards again, his weight pressing you, firm chest hitting your back.

He pressed plump lips on your shoulder blades, eventually giving it open mouthed kisses. Then it ran elsewhere til it stopped in the side of your head, before he leaned down and nibbled your earlobes the loving way.

Yet it didn't calm you down, you just continued weeping. On the other hand, Jake didn't seem to be concerned, instead, he felt more driven by your tears. He ran his palms on your side again underneath your sweater. This time it didn't stop at your waist, it traveled further up till it made contact with your underboobs. Jake stopped for a moment taking a breather, before he wrapped his warm hands on it, giving a slight squeeze while his lips stayed planted on your ear.

A soft moan left you because of the sensation. He just chuckled at the way your body responded, fingertips now rubbing your puffy peaks while it started stiffening, he continued rolling it and deliberately pinched it when it finally hardened.

And it seemed not enough for him because he started grinding himself against your bare ass. You felt the warm, thick and heavy shaft snuggling between your folds, the tip can't help but dent itself in his pants with how hard it is, nudging right your clit.

While you moan, Jake drowned himself at the sensation as he continued rocking his hips forward and rolling, chasing the pleasure and your warmth. He bit his lips to stop himself and when it can't be muffled enough, he chose to bite your shoulders instead. Hands still rubbing your nipples with consistency.

The slick sound from your folds and the shifting of the fabric of his pants, mixed with both of your moans filled the room as he continued the rocking motion.

“Fuck. I could do this forever” Jake let out a groan, eyes squeezed shut as he focused himself in the friction. Getting faster and deeper with each roll of his hips, the fleshy head of his cock massaged your clit and entrance the best way.

You feel electricity run through your body, gradually building to a tingling sensation deep in your lower stomach. You could feel the knots everybody talked about and you just know, you're on your way to orgasm.

“More! More!” You shamelessly demanded, sanity overtaken by the amount of pleasure you're receiving. Jake, who loved the way you surrendered, obeyed your commands. This time he grinded deeper, deliberately focusing on your clit now. His hands tugging both your nipples.

“Shit. Oh my—Jake!” The hot rush of climax finally got you. You shook underneath him while he helped you ride out the high, teeth still digging your shoulders.

You felt weak and shaky after, eventually falling face down the kitchen floor as you gasped for air. Jake also stopped everything, the dent in his pants painted damp now. He came too.

“Be thankful I didn't fuck you in my lion form” He said in between his breath, shifting away on top of you to lay beside you instead. You didn't reply to his teasing, still dazed from your own orgasm.

Then he reached his hands on your face, brushing the strands of hair sticking on your tendrils due to the sweat. His eyes, the human ones, looked at you with softness. You didn't realize how handsome he truly looked until now.

Moments passed, then in the blink of an eye, he moved again, this time sitting on the floor as he leaned his back on the counter for support. He watched you, eventually pulling you upwards to sit with him.

You did, weakly so. Following him obediently, too fucked out to bother.

But you didn't realize what it all meant until Jake commanded you to sit on his lap, bare now and cock hard and free, the slit of his tip decorated with beads of precum.

When you finally processed everything, you shook your head hard to decline. But Jake didn't take it lightly, he won't stop until he gets what he wants and you've seen that with the way his eyes darkened again, ears twitching with annoyance.

“Strip that top.” you continued declining, but when he looked at you in a manner, you couldn't help but comply with fear. Your hands shakingly tugged your sweater as he tracked your movements. Only to focus his gaze on your tits getting slightly revealed with each upward pull of the hem.

Fuck, he's been feeling this pressing on his back for long, and he only touched it earlier, but now, it's all laid out for him.

“Play with it for me” He commanded further, you felt your blood rushed up to your cheeks with the humiliation. Yet, despite the shaking hands, you toyed with them. Own hands rubbing the peeks.

Jake quickly glided his hands on his cock as he watched your fingers doing the motion. The filthy scene all happening in the kitchen right behind the counter.

Then when he could no longer hold himself back, he stopped you by pulling you by the wrist, finally making you sit on his lap without listening to any of your soft declines.

You're now situated on top of him, legs wrapping that of lotus position as he held you by the waist, papillated tongue flicking on your tits presented right on his face like a gift.

You moaned at the feeling, the warmth and texture sopping your nipples together with the hardness of his pulsating cock nuzzling right under your thighs drove you to heaven.

He continued playing your tits with his mouth, tugging and gliding his tongue on it before pulling back with a wet pop sound only to do it in the other one. All the while he watched your face, brows furrowed and eyes shut from all the pleasure. Not like you can meet his eyes anyway, you're scared of the intensity.

Then he suddenly made you lean back, using his folded knees as a support as you lay on it. Your pussy pressed right into his cock now, and he played with it, nudging your clit with each sideway glide on your folds.

Jake gawked at the sight of you, head tilted backwards and willing to take anything he gave you. Fuck, he haven't kissed you yet—when truth was, it's all he could think about, all those innocent ways of claiming you instead of this filthiness. But what can he do? Not like he could blame himself. You're the culprit after all.

Then he reached out to your breast again, squeezing as he watched you jolt, abdomen raising and falling quickly with each pant. Yet despite all the details, it's your lips he’s getting more drawn in..

So he pulled your face, finally pressing his mouth on yours in a firm manner. His textured tongue surprised you, but it eventually went to fighting and knotting. You reciprocated, of course, lost in the feeling of his cock slicking your folds. Then while he bit your lips, you felt his fleshy tip press right into your entrance.

You squirmed, really unprepared. But Jake just held you firmly on your thighs. The kiss muffled your moan of denials as he entered his shaft slowly in your walls.

He gently rolled his hips, fingers rubbing your clit now to distract you from the pain. You are a virgin, he could smell it from you, and it's the second best scent he ever had in the world, following after your sweaty one.

When he felt your walls relaxed, he pulled a little before burying himself to the hilt again. You whimpered in his lips at the quick glide, feeling full to the bottom.

Jake just continued thrusting slowly, letting you get used to the feeling of his thick cock sliding your warm walls. This time, he can control himself and his hunger for pleasure. It seemed the kiss awakened the human in him. The way he realized it's the woman he loves most he's having sex with. Yes.

Eventually, the pace fell into a rhythm. He rolls and pulls, then enters again. Each thrust only made you moan while he played your tongue with his. Both of you pulled back for a breath. But his gaze stared at you with unblinking focus, awed by your messy, cockdrunk state.

Jake couldn't get enough, he needed to have more, see more, and feel more. So he pushed you to lay against his knees again. Legs further sprawled out wrapping his waist.

He pressed his fingers on your lips and you kissed it, tongue gliding at the thumb which made him groan before sliding it inside your mouth. But he didn't stop, he went further and further until he felt the dangling tissue at the back of your throat. You gagged and he only felt more troubled by it.

He started thrusting harder now, each press of his pelvis made your tits bounce upwards, and you cried out despite his finger on your throat.

“Fuck. You're so beautiful. My love” He spoke while hissing, feeling your walls envelope him like a warm hug. You're milking him dry.

He pulled out his hands from your mouth now and placed it on your waist instead. He leaned forward slightly, using your body as an anchor while he pistoned his cock in and out of you.

“Jake, please..” you moaned at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, eventually getting thicker with each glide he made. Jake didn't reply, instead, he just buried his face between your neck and shoulders.

He showered it with open mouthed kisses, five, six, and many ones like it's the only way he can divert his pent up release and hold himself back. But he can't help it, not when your walls start to pull him in like a fucking vacuum.

“Fuck! I'm almost there!” He firmly rubbed your clit to elicit your orgasm first while he thrusted into you. Now all he could feel is the way your pussy clenched around him, and he didn't know if he'd be thankful for the way you're cumming first, or not because each clamp of your walls around him only made it harder to hold.

“Fuck—fuck, Jake. I'm—” You cried out, feeling it coming sooner and sooner. Your hands tug at his twitching ears to anchor yourself while you move.

Each thrust let out a slick sound in a row, your pelvis starts to hit each other now with the way both of you went hurried. Your hips quickly rocked back and forth on top of him, chasing your own release.

Then you finally did, burying your face on the crown of his head, grasp letting go his lion ears as you came. But it didn't end there, because it's Jake's turn now. He quickly wrapped his warm mouth on your tits to muffle his own groans. You shuddered, feeling overstimulated at the sensation, but you let him be.

He held your waist tightly, guiding you up and down in his cock in a deliberate manner. You could feel him pulsing inside you now, threatening for a release.

He pulled his mouth with a wet pop, looking at you with dazed eyes as your body bounced on top of him. Each thrust no longer burying deep in your walls, instead it all felt shallow as he only chased the friction.

“you want to take care of cubs that much?” He asked you between his pants.

But before you could even say no, Jake made two to three very quick and hard thrusts before burying himself to the hilt, and finally flooding your walls with his warm, thick cum.

He hissed as he rode out his high, hips still moving towards you to milk himself dry as he released all his load inside.

It took long minutes before both of you calmed down. Jake let your head lay on his shoulder, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he wrapped you in his embrace.

The evening turned romantic, but it's short lived when Jake suddenly kissed your ears, tails swaying playfully, and naughty smile painting his lips as he whispered,

“Wanna be fucked by my lion form?”

[starvine]

test the waters - yang jungwon

for your entire life, it's been easy to disregard your father and his beliefs about the ocean and it's creatures. mermaids? ha! those have never existed. but as always, father knows best.

info. merfolk!yang jungwon x reader, cursing, drinking/drug use, vomiting, brief violence (jungwon scratches reader accidentally), like one suicide/drowing joke, SEX!!! (mermaid and human), cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, dubcon-ish (brief manipulation of readers mind), blood play, jungwon goes into heat because of the moon, reader has some pubic hair because she's grown, dry humping, lots of spit because it's me, both of them are sexy losers, diary of a wimpy kid mentioned, mostly edited (if you see a typo, mind your business).

length. 30.6k words.

reblogs appreciated! <3

When you were a little girl, hands still soft and eyes wide, your father told you stories of the sea. Its dangers. Its powers. Its beauty, and its mystery. 

These were stories of gods and monsters who resided deep beneath the ocean waves. They were creatures responsible for great disasters and tremendous adventures. He warned you of the sea dragons, that were wise and mischievous—they ruled the sea and were not to be crossed. He warned you of Charybdis, who resided in deep waters and showed no mercy to its victims. However, none of these fascinated you, even at your young age. They were just myths. Stories. Legends. Small tales that helped make sense of a senseless world. 

However, your father never let you speak that way about sirens. 

He loathed them. He said that they were the biggest nuisance of the sea, always scheming and always intervening. Killing. Murdering. And all while singing their song. 

He claims to have seen one once, but he can’t remember much about it. From the little he can recall, and a story you’ve heard maybe a million times before, he says that when he was a young man, he was stationed as a crew hand as many young men at that age are in your small coastal town. And late one night, when half of the crew was asleep and the other half stayed awake, drunk, blubbering on the deck, a piercing note glided through the air. He said it started like a whisper, a sweet lullaby. However, it grew. He still claims to remember how the song crescendoed into a primal lust, one that left him craving the taste of death and salt. When he woke up, the sun was barely cresting over the horizon, and his ears were bleeding. 

He was one of the few spared that night. 

Although your father has long since left the sea behind, retiring in a small house further inland, he still warns you to never walk along the shore at night. The sirens are beautiful, each and everyone. However, they are lethal. And beauty and death can never coexist peacefully. 

But just like the sea dragons and Charybdis, sirens, too, faded into tales of a fictional childhood. You grew, and so did your mind. And just as your frilly socks and toy dolls changed into revealing clothes and drunken parties, your opinions on these stories shifted too. There was no such thing as sirens or merfolk. They were myths. Stories. Tales. 

You would never see one for as long as you lived. 

—

Puke. It smells like fucking puke. 

You hold back Daniela’s hair with one hand, a steely grip on your red solo cup with the other, as she heaves into the sand. You warned her, you really did try. 

“Daniela, you can never keep vodka down. We know this,” you say, but she doesn’t listen. She never fucking listens. 

Every summer, the kids in your town throw a big beach party, starting at sunset and ending at sunrise. It’s always a big to-do, and you and your friends have been going ever since you were old enough. And like any party with young, drunk adults, something worthy of a good story has to happen. 

One year, Jay ran the length of the party butt-ass naked, simply because his friend, Riki, said he wouldn’t. Another year, Jeongyeon and her boyfriend (at the time) had a very public break-up. This year, your friends planned on being the center of attention. 

Your friends had made a bet early on, discussing the plan while you all were still at Yunjin’s house, patting glitter onto your eyelids and double-checking your manicures. The plan was to see who could pull the most people in one night, and whoever had the most points by the end of the night, was the winner. A kiss was five points, sex was twenty. Anything in between varied in amount depending on the circumstance and the length of which it occurred. An ambitious plan, however, a little flirtatious fun never hurt anybody. Just like always, Daniela was on a fucking roll. 

However, zealous as she was with her bets, she could also be overly ambitious when it came to having a good time. And, well, that often ended like this: puking in the sand at the biggest summer party of the year. 

So now you had only kissed three people, and Daniela had kissed four. God knows how many the rest have conquered by now, considering you and Daniela had lost them once you heard someone lugged a keg down to the beach. I mean, seriously. A fucking keg? 

“Sorry,” Daniela slurred, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, taking a sip of your drink in hopes it would relieve you from the smell, if even for just a second. “I told you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she huffed, standing up straight. “Do you have a mint?” 

You reached into your back pocket, grabbing a spare piece of gum you had stashed before leaving the house. “I only have two more left. Try not to puke anymore before the night’s over.” 

She grumbled something that probably would rival an Etsy witch’s hex spell, before popping the mint gum in her mouth. You two stood there for a second, gathering yourselves before you spotted your next target. 

Would it be Heeseung? No. He got a girlfriend three months ago and is—allegedly—very loyal to her. Would it be Jake? No. He would never let it go and blow up your DMs. Sunoo? Your dear friend who was always down for a little smooch, especially when he has had about two and a half hard seltzers? Bingo. 

“I’ll be back in twenty. If I’m not back, call the Coast Guard,” you joke, not even bothering to look back as you saunter over to Sunoo. 

He looks good tonight. Exceptionally good. Like really, really good. His shirt was the perfect amount of tight around the shoulders, and his hair was the perfect amount of styled but relaxed. He looks effortlessly handsome. And knowing how unresistant he is to compliments, you figure it would take you five minutes maximum to butter him up, and then, boom, lips locked, and he becomes lucky number four on your roster for tonight. 

Maybe you could convince him to touch your boob—that would have to give you a couple of extra points, right? 

However, before you could plant your cute shorty-short covered butt in front of him, Yunjin stumbles into your view. Her shirt is halfway off and her lipstick is smudged, but other than that, she’s fully intact. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell happened to you?!” you gasp, trying to tug the front of her shirt over her boob. Good thing she was wearing a bikini top underneath, but with the way she was fumbling around, a nip slip was bound to happen. 

“Gimme eight points,” she demands. Gripping your shoulders like her life depends on it. 

Your eyes grow comically wide, the only kind of wide that can be accomplished by drunken surprise. “Why would I do that?” 

“I made out with some dude,” she explained, taking a deep breath to sober herself up. “And let him do some other things, if you know what I mean.” 

“I’m gonna need a better explanation than that,” 

“Whatever,” she groans, shoving you in the opposite direction of Sunoo. “Let’s go take shots and then go swimming. The water is supposed to be nice tonight.” 

And soon, the thoughts of shoving your tongue down Sunoo’s throat were consumed by the taste of tequila chased by some slightly sandy lime wedges. It didn’t bother you, though. After your second shot and the warmth spreading across your cheeks, the sand was only a mere memory. 

Upon knocking out your last shot, you and your friends began to strip yourselves of your clothes, leaving yourselves in your bathing suits. The water was freezing, but to your warm, sweaty bodies, it was the perfect way to cool down. The sea was tranquil, waves glittering under the stars and the moon. The moon was full, as if a god carved out a pale space in the inky sky, and it illuminated the night perfectly. If you were any more sober, you’d perhaps be a bit more curious as to why it was so bright. Too bad you weren’t, though. 

Amongst the squeals and splashing, you found your mind growing very calm. Peaceful. Quiet. The salt breeze tickled your face, as your hair floated in the water around you. You dunk your face under the cold water, waking yourself up slightly. Upon resurfacing and blinking away the brine, you spot a rocky jetty. Has that always been there? Certainly, it must’ve been. A whole row of rocks doesn’t just appear out of nowhere. 

However, amidst the confusion, it seems to be calling your name. It isn’t enticing you with liquor or extra points in your game like everything else has interested you tonight. Instead, it seems like it has a secret it wants to share with you. Only you. 

“I wanna chicken fight,” Yunjin declares, grabbing someone to be her partner. “Do you wanna duel?” she asks you. 

You shake your head, eyes remaining on the jetty that stands darker than the night sky. “No, you guys go ahead. I want to go check out that jetty real quick. I’ll join in on the next round.” 

Yunjin shrugs, climbing on Daniela’s shoulders as she bellows some self-proclaimed war cry. You swim over to the jetty, the current guiding you. Wedging your foot on the flattest rock you could find, you hoist yourself onto the ledge, propelling yourself onto the jetty. Your bottom smacks against the wet rock, droplets of moon-filled water decorating your thighs as you stand and regain your footing. You begin to stagger slowly along the jetty, careful to watch your step in your inebriated state. 

You may be drunk, but you certainly aren’t stupid. 

The pale moon lights your path, warning you against stepping on jagged stones or sharp barnacles that could cut your feet, and highlighting flat rocks that weren’t too slippery from the salty sea. The cool air suddenly grows warmer, but you’re not sure when you begin to feel the change in temperature or if it could be blamed on anything other than the few shots of tequila coursing through your veins. After what feels like hours of wandering—which has probably, realistically, only been about five minutes—you sit back down on a ledge, shifting around to get yourself comfortable as you dip your feet into the water. 

You look down, watching your feet against the deep darkness of the ocean, mesmerized by the little swirls that follow your toes. However, just as you’re captivated by the little currents you’re creating, you fail to recognize the other currents being created around you. 

Head drooped low and eyes fixated, it isn’t until you hear a loud splash do you look up. 

“Yunjin?” you call out. 

The ocean is vast and empty; only the glittering waves keep you company. They’re so pretty, you think. They’re so pretty that you wish someone would write a song about them. 

Then, another splash. You don’t just hear it this time, but you see it too. A small flicker of something shiny pierces through the water, before smacking down aggressively, foam and salt spraying in all directions. You’re not sure what it was. It was far enough away that you couldn’t make out any details, and the fact that your world is currently functioning at an aggressive tilt does not help by any means. 

However, your mind rapidly comes up with the highest possible conclusion: shark. 

You tug your feet out of the water, pleading to the gods that you won’t become the first dead girl in your rendition of Jaws. But yet, unlike any sane person, you remain seated. You know, just in case it actually is a shark and you can end the night by claiming that you saw one. Maybe you can lie and say that it tried to take a nibble out of you. That would certainly have to gain you some points, right? And if not by your friends, certainly other people attending this party would remember you as the girl who fought off a shark all by herself? 

Not a bad way to be remembered—especially this early in your life. 

However, it’s been two minutes. The water has stilled. There is no shark. 

You’re still tense. Slightly afraid to move, and eyes transfixed on the glittering water. You kind of want to jump in again. You know you shouldn’t, of course. There could be a fucking shark just waiting for you to jump in so it can have you as a midnight snack. However, despite all of these red flags flashing through your mind, it seems as if the water is calling your name. It’s calling your name in a sweet, melodic voice. Almost like a little hum. A lullaby. 

If you were in the right mind, you would be able to acknowledge that the this song you hear isn’t a figment of your imagination, but rather a voice. A note rings out, graceful and warm. And because it blends in with the low rumble of the ocean, and you’re currently battling with your alcohol induced brain, it’s easy to disregard the danger that harmonizes softly with the waves. Because at the end of the day, a measly shark fears this tune just as you should too. 

But you’re drunk, and you’re naive. What could a human possibly know about the wonders of the deep blue? 

Just as your eyes stay glued to the water, you feel something take a hold of your ankle. 

This is it, you think. It’s the fucking shark. 

You yelp and push yourself backwards, flinging yourself as far as you can. You don’t make it too far before realizing it’s just a hand. However, that hand hasn’t let go of your ankle, and keeps your foot in place with a strength that your mind is incapable of registering at this moment. All you know is that your foot and that stubborn grip remain. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you huff, wiping your hands down your face as you snap yourself out of whatever trance the water put you into. The song you’ve been hearing is cut into two, an eerie silence following. You think you might’ve just fallen asleep for a second there. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

You giggle as you look down to see who has taken a hold of your ankle, half expecting it to be Daniela or maybe even Sunoo. However, a different pair of eyes stare back at you, and they are ones you wouldn’t say you’re very well acquainted with. 

In fact, you’re not at all acquainted with these eyes. Actually, you don’t know who the fuck this is. 

“Um, hello?” 

The young man just stares, eyes wide and round and bewildered. He looks almost as surprised as you, if not more. He pushes away from the rock a bit, his fingers sliding down the top of your foot as he submerges his mouth into the water. It’s almost as if he’s embarrassed that he scared you. 

Almost. 

“Bro, you scared me so fucking bad. I almost shit myself,” you chuckle, finally letting yourself relax. “I thought you were one of my friends.” 

He blinks, slow and curious like an animal. But then, he lifts his head to show two pink lips, pursed like he’s guarding a secret. “Sorry,” he says, in a voice so gentle and sweet you swear stars twinkle in response. 

Suddenly feeling shy, you shrug and smile coyly. “It’s okay. It was kinda funny.” 

“Funny?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. A strand of wet hair falls across his forehead, a dark streak against pale skin. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Like, you know, funny. Ha-ha.” 

He nods slowly, mimicking your movement before he smiles softly. It seems like he was genuinely confused. “Yeah. Funny.” 

He’s kind of shy, you decide. When you’re drunk, you’re as social as can be so this just cannot do. But lucky for him, and especially lucky for you, you can keep the ball rolling. 

“Are you from here?” you inquire, scooting closer to the edge. “I haven’t seen you before.” 

The young man swims closer, his hand finding your ankle again but you don’t seem to mind. His grip is gentle, comforting. Besides, he’s kinda hot. 

“No.” 

“Oh?” you hum, peering down at him. He brushes his thumb over the bone, and it almost lulls you to sleep. Whoever this guy is, you like him. “Where are you from?” 

He sighs, light and serene like a morning sea breeze. “Not from here,” he replies, a voice so sweet even birds would stop to listen. 

You roll your eyes, giggling a little. “Well, duh. But where-”

“Do you want to go swimming?” 

Your brain freezes for a second, fog consuming your mind. A warmth fills your body, different from the buzzing warmth of the alcohol—this is sharp, arousing. And you can’t deny it, he’s attractive. You very well could just be turned on, but something whispering in the back of your mind tells you it’s not. It’s more primal, animalistic. Dangerous. Although a part of you is pleading you to not get into the water, reasoning with the fact that he’s a stranger, you can feel yourself burning up from the inside out. 

The song starts once more. 

He strokes your ankle again. “Please?” he says, voice softer than a lamb’s. 

You feel yourself helplessly nodding, submerging your other foot in the water. He begins to help you in, before you remember what—you suspect—was in the water only a few feet behind him. 

“Wait,” you stop. “I saw something earlier. It might’ve been a shark. You should come out.” 

He looks at you, stunned. The song stops. You might as well have spoken a language no one has ever documented. His head cocks sidewise, like a dog hearing a high whistle. 

“There is no shark,” he insists, ceasing any kind of movement. 

You shake your head, feeling as if you’re rediscovering that there’s more around you than this mystery man. “No, I swear I saw something earlier. You didn’t see anything?” 

He just stares at you, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Would he fucking pull it together? 

“I’m not fucking joking, dude. You should get out,” you berate, panic beginning to creep under your skin.

But he just remains still, shock painting his face from top to bottom. His grip on your ankle stays, but that fuzzy warmth you once felt is ripped away and replaced with freezing sobriety. You’re still frantically searching the water, anticipating a sight of a gnarly fin or menacing jaws to pop out of the water at any second. And although you’d love to have a crazy story to tell, you’re not sure if witnessing ‘death by shark’ is a tale you want to relay. You don’t even know this guy’s name. What would you tell the coast guard? The police? But the water is dark, darker than before. All that stares back at you is a pit of tar, motionless and waiting. Have the stars always been this dim? 

“It’s okay,” he eventually says, stroking your ankle in a tantalizing pattern. “It’s safe. I promise.” 

“I’m not playing, bro. Get out of the-”

Now. You’re sure fireball and vodka don’t mix well, but you’re not too sure that it’s supposed to make you hallucinate. However, that’s the only way you can explain what you’re seeing right now. Just between your leg and the young man’s torso, you spot movement. 

It’s not vicious or menancing—nothing like an animal about to attack. Instead, it’s relaxed. If anything, it moves a bit seductively. The movement is unified, nothing like legs. It’s unified like a tail. You follow the movement upwards, watching it blend into the young man’s hips and torso. It’s his. 

You hope deeply that it’s not a part of him, but the voice of your father, blaringly loud in the back of your head, rings true. These so-called mythical creatures are true. It also just so happens that the man in front of you, with eyes as dark as midnight and lips as pink as a sunset, is no man at all. 

He’s a fucking siren. 

You scream bloody fucking murder, and he jumps. 

“Wait-” he begins, but you’ll hear none of it. 

Kicking and trashing, praying to whatever god that someone will hear you and come to your rescue, you try to fight him off. Water sprays in every direction, salt stinging your eyes and disrupting the once tranquil ocean. Somewhere in your trashing, you kick him square in the face. He lets go of your ankle, hands flying towards his eye, nails slicing through the skin of your calf somewhere in the process. However, you’re too focused on trying to get away to even realize that the scratch was an accident. 

“Help! Fuck, he’s trying to eat me!” you yelp, stumbling to your feet. 

You eventually stand upright, the young man groaning before submerging himself back into the water. However, you waste no time trying to decipher if he’s following you or trying to rally some more of his (supposed) little siren friends. Instead, you bolt. 

Holding your tits steady in your bikini top, you scamper off of the jetty and towards the sandy beach. It’s a miracle you don’t slip on any of the wet rocks, that certainly would’ve been a prime moment for him to snatch you up and eat you. But you hold your own, feet landing onto the soft sand as you sprint over to the crowd. 

You’ve never been more thankful to see another human being in your life. 

Lungs burning and eyes watering, you spot Daniela, who emerges from the crowd like your knight in shining armor. Yunjin and Lara follow, as well as a few other of your friends. Hair still damp from playing in the water, but other than that, unscathed. 

You collapse into Daniela’s arms, chest cramping from lack of oxygen. If you could catch your breath, you would cry. But after such a scare, you’re not sure if you can do anything other than heave. 

“Where the fuck were you?!” Daniela damn near shrieks, cradling you close to her chest like a baby. “We looked everywhere for you.” 

“I-I-I…” you stutter, trying to quiet your pounding heart. “I saw something in the water. I thought it was some guy…” 

“What? Like a dead body?” Yunjin asks, concern furrowing her eyebrows. 

You shake your head vehemently, finally being able to breathe. “Worse. He was talking to me and he was, like, really hot so I didn’t really think anything of it. But then I was getting all warm and he was trying to get me into the water. But then I looked down and he didn’t have any fucking legs. He had like—I don’t know—a tail? I couldn’t-” 

Lara scoffs in disbelief, shaking her head slowly as she narrows her eyes at you. “You’re really drunk.” 

You throw your hands down, petulant like a child bubbling with a tantrum. “I’m not lying, Lara!” 

“Yo, what the fuck happened to your leg?” Sunoo inquires, pointing towards your calf as he stands near Heeseung. 

Daniela spins your shoulders a bit, forcing you to show off the backside of your leg. Sure enough, five red gashes, varying in depth and vibrancy, slowly drip blood down your heel and into the sand. You don’t even remember it happening, memory blocked in a panic. However, maybe it’s the adrenaline or the cleanliness of the cuts, but you hardly even notice them safe for the warmth that dribbles down your shivering skin. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Daniela curses, beginning to usher you through the crowd and towards, you presume, your house. “You disappear, without a word, and now you're saying shit about some random dude or whatever? Your dad is going to fucking kill me,”

Yunjin laughs, jogging to keep up with you and Daniela as she storms you across the beach. “I didn’t take you for a runner,” she snickers.  

“I’m not a runner!” you argue. “I told you where I was going!” 

Daniela stops, as do all of your friends, with an unimpressed look on their faces. 

“No, one second you were in the water with us and the next you were gone. We didn’t even hear you leave,” Daniela says, the moon taunting you through the ringlets of her hair. 

—

Safe to say, you’re a little scared to go back to the beach. 

Daniela was quick to wrap up your little injury, and you were able to brush off your mom’s inquisitive looks during your weekly Sunday brunch with a simple lie. However, you can’t help but feel like something is still out there, waiting for you. Looking for you. 

Nearly a week has passed, and every night, you see him. Dark hair, and even darker eyes shaped just like crescent moons that observed your every step. Sometimes, he pulls you into the water and tries to drown you. Sometimes, you two just have a lovely chat. Everytime, you wake up gasping, lungs feeling like they’ve been filled with water and calf tingling despite healing without complication. On one occasion, you woke up standing before your window, hands pressed against the glass like you were trying to wish it away. You asked if Lara could sleep over the next night. 

But despite the pounding heart and paranoia, you still feel this pull. Every night, when the moon creeps through your curtains and touches your face, you remember his thumb against your ankle. You can hear the melodic lilt in his voice. 

You don’t even know his name or, frankly, what he really is, but you feel drawn to him. 

And maybe that’s stupid. Scratch that, it’s definitely stupid. Especially when you remember how you felt as if you had no control over your body at certain points in your conversation with him. But you were drunk! Surely, that wouldn’t ever happen again if you were sober… right? 

It’s ridiculous to even be having these thoughts, and to be hoping to catch a glimpse of something splashing in the water as you watch the waves cresting from your porch. But you can’t help but wonder, despite trying your hardest to deprive yourself of that urge. 

So in order to fully stick to your rules, you haven’t been going to the beach. In part because you’re afraid of getting attacked again or whatever, and mostly because you’re not sure of what you would do if you saw him again. 

It’s embarrassing having to lie to your friends, dodging every attempt of theirs to drag you down to the beach. I picked up a shift at work; my dad wants me to come over for dinner; I forgot to turn in a paper despite the semester ending two weeks ago. They all see right through your lies, and you know it, but they don’t push. 

They don’t really know what happened that night, and despite feeling like you remember every detail and explaining your side of the story a million times over, you’re not quite sure if you actually know what you’re talking about. Either way, they don’t push and hope that, eventually, you’ll come around. 

Besides, it’s summer! You can’t stay cooped inside for forever!

And they're right, because by the fifth day, you’ve had enough. 

You can only binge watch so many episodes of Love Island before the incessant drama begins to rot away your brain. All of the arguing and crying only forces you to think about your own current dilemma. Unable to ignore it any longer, you decide it’s time for you to face your fear. 

You step outside, the air still slightly cool from the morning breeze. The sea is calm, glistening in the mid morning sun. The beach is fairly barren, only a few people taking their dogs on a morning stroll. The sun is high in the sky, and you can hear the waves crashing into the sand like a faint whisper from your balcony. 

Today is the day. It’s nice out, the sun is shining. Nothing could go wrong. 

You trudge down to the beach, walking towards the same jetty where you met that strange… whatever. You face the jetty, hands growing a bit clammy, but other than that, you’re killing this! A few deep breaths, and you have this totally under control! As a matter of fact, you have it so under control, that you decide that you can even walk out to the jetty. 

And walk out you do! 

The rocks are a little cool, not yet warmed by the afternoon sun. You carefully watch your step, not wanting to slip and fall into the ocean below. The water is calm, only lightly spraying your feet and ankles when a wave abruptly hits the side of the jetty. If you really think about it, the tickle of the seafoam on your legs is like the sea is apologizing for that night… in a way. 

See, this isn’t too bad. Nothing to be afraid of. 

Maybe you were making shit up—just like your friends suggested. You were pretty drunk, after all. Perhaps, you fell asleep on the jetty and conjured some crazy dream, in which you injured yourself while thrashing around. It certainly wouldn’t exactly explain why the cuts are the perfect size and distance of human—or human-like—fingers. Maybe they’re from teeth? You can’t really remember. But does it really matter? 

You’re safe. The water is calm. It’s a nice day, and you’re only a few weeks into your summer break! You should be able to enjoy it. 

Things are beginning to look up for you. The five angry lines down your calf are healing, and hopefully, walking out to the exact same spot where you saw this alleged siren-merman- whatever will help with the nightmares and sleepwalking. You’ll finally be able to feel like yourself, and enjoy your summer. Parties, beach trips, and getting drunk with your friends is in your imminent future. 

At least until you realize that the same set of slender eyes that you nearly drowned in those days ago is staring back at you, curious and observant through a purple bruise that blooms across his left cheek. 

Of course, you scream bloody murder. 

It’s just like last time, really,  except he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t try to grab you, nor does he try to eat you. Instead, he flinches and covers his ears and waits for you to stop. The worst he does is give you an annoyed glare, but that’s about it. On the other hand, you fall flat on your ass out of fear, flailing and praying to whatever god that might be listening to let you walk out of this alive. 

Eventually, you get a grip and are able to quiet down. Chest heaving and hands trembling, you stare at him, the seat of your shorts soaked with sea water the longer you remain paralyzed on your ass. He continues to stare at you, the bottom half of his face submerges, leaving only his eyes remaining. They never leave yours, and you’ll be damned if yours leave his. 

As it turns out, your screaming was pointless. No one comes running to save you, no one asks what’s wrong. You're not even sure if the world blinked at your unease. However, he did. 

The young whatever-he-is slowly removes his hands from his ears, swimming a hair closer, hesitant, as he takes his face out of the water. He’s just as handsome as you remember, maybe even more, now that you can see him better in the morning light. Water drips from his chin and his lips are set in a small frown, displeased with your sudden outburst. 

“You’re loud,” he mutters, eyes squinting. 

Your heart is still pounding, and your toes curl reflexively as he moves closer. You’re not sure. You should’ve probably threatened him—told him you had a knife or something. Maybe even said you told the coast guard about him, and they were ready to come pick him up at any minute. Goodbye, Mister Mystery-Creature! 

But, of course, you say no such thing. 

“You fucking bit me!” you shriek, suddenly pulling down your bandage to reveal five angry lines, even and deep but healing nonetheless. 

He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows quirking upwards. “I didn’t bite you. You kicked me,” he retorts. 

“Because you bit me!” 

“I scratched you,” he answers plainly, his hands coming into view as he places them on the jetty, mere inches away from your feet. He makes no move to grab at them and pull you under. “You kicked me, and I scratched you. It was an accident. I’m sorry.” 

And this guy, whoever or whatever he is, says all of this like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Plain as day, pure as milk. He’s still looking at you, eyes wide and easy, still rich like a midnight sky but you can see the sun cresting in his irises, and you finally feel your heart calm. 

His eyes begin to wander, sliding down your neck and chest, and eventually landing on your legs. He observes the scratch marks, certainly better than they were even just a few days ago, but still a bit irritated. But then his eyes just stay there, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and wonder as his eyes scan up and down the length of your legs. Legs, knees, ankles, feet, toes—and back up. 

While he takes his time analyzing you, you look closer at him. He looks… normal. The face of someone about your age. His cheeks are smooth, cheekbones proud. Strands of his hair stick to his forehead, just like they did the night you met him, spelling out something maybe you’ll one day understand. His mouth is pursed in concentration, a whisper of a dimple showing itself next to his pink pout. His eyebrows are dark and straight, and his nose hooks slightly, although you can’t tell from the front. Overall, a very handsome man. 

Moving from his face, you can’t really find anything abnormal from what you can see. Well, except for his hands. 

His hands are normal, fingers slender and long like a human's, except for the damn near set of acrylics he has. Sharp and clean, just like claws, but also neutral and thinner like human nails. Seeing them in the daylight like this makes you understand why the damage you suffered was so great. 

“Damn, dip and tip!” you exclaim, forgetting all about the nearly debilitating fear you felt a moment ago. Swinging your legs under you, you grab his hand in yours, observing his nails up close. 

The young man squeaks, a floundering sound that bubbles up from his chest. His hands are even prettier up close, his nails a light shade of pearl as they file into a point, despite not being too long. He doesn’t try to pull away, nor does he try to pull you down under. He remains very still, like a dog waiting to see what you’ve plucked from their fur. 

“They’re very sharp,” you say, stating the obvious. 

“Yours are… not.” 

You chuckle, letting go of his hand when you become seemingly aware of how strange that must’ve been. Not that this is really normal anyway. “What… are you… exactly?” 

He tosses his head back, flicking any hair that was stuck to his forehead away from his face. “Same as you, but different,” he responds, resisting his cheek in his palm. 

You shake your head incredulously. “You have a tail. We’re very different.” 

He shrugs, moving positions so he can rest against a rock—a makeshift seat. You glimpse at his torso, collarbones glistening in the early morning light. You imagine that swimming in salt water all the time would dry out his skin, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. In fact, his skin looks rather smooth. His tail, long and decorated in shades of silver and blue that glisten like a cresting wave when the sunlight hits, stretches out in front of him. It twitches under your stare. 

“Depends on what story you hear. Some say sirens, some say merman,” he explains, eyes returning to your face after thoroughly inspecting your legs. “You can say whatever you prefer.” 

“And which do you prefer?” 

He thinks, long and hard, as his eyes flick upwards to search for the answer. “Jungwon.” 

You blink. “The fuck is Jungwon?” 

“My name,” he giggles, a sound sweet and friendly like a strawberry dipped in sugar. “Jungwon.” 

—

As it turns out, Jungwon is very interesting. 

You’re not sure when it became a regular thing for you to see him—it’s not something the two of you ever really discussed—but each day, without fail, you two meet up every morning. Sometimes you two just watch each other in peaceful silence, soaking in every difference and similarity. It’s not every day you run into a siren, and you can imagine Jungwon isn’t seeing humans on the regular either. Unless, he is. You’ll have to ask him. 

But because he doesn’t know any humans, other than you—you think—he tends to have a lot of questions. 

Jungwon has asked you if it’s hard to control your legs—you assume it’s because there’s two, instead of one like his tail; he’s also asked questions like what do humans eat, what do they do for fun, and why do they swim so weirdly. Of course, you answer to the best of your ability, but sometimes it’s hard to explain. So instead, you show him. 

When you told him that humans eat mostly anything they want, he didn’t believe you. But when you brought a bag of goodies for him to try, you barely got a chance to eat the gummies you brought before he devoured them. You told him what you did for fun, and even let him play around with your phone after he dried his hands off. You would’ve entertained him with swimming, but you were still a bit weary of him. The cuts on your leg were still healing, after all. 

But despite how eager you were to answer any and all of his questions, you were a bit shy to ask your own. 

“What were you doing the night we met?” Jungwon asks, nibbling on a pineapple flavored gummy bear while you lazily scanned a book your father lent you on aquatic folklore. It was a bit difficult to explain your sudden interest to your father, especially after finding it trivial your whole life, but years of pretending to not be drunk in dire situations led you to be quite the actress. 

“Excuse me?” you ask, thumbing the page. 

Jungwon turns to fully face you, chin resting on his forearms. You wonder if they have hand-held weights wherever he lives—-his biceps are, well, nice. 

“Why were you at the beach so late the night we met?” he asks again, lazily tracing the marbled grain of a rock. 

You shrug, shoving the book in your bag. Hopefully he didn’t catch the title. “There’s a big party on the beach every summer. I go every year,” you explain, reaching out your palm in hopes that he’ll let you eat the snack that you brought. 

“A party?” 

You nod as he places a singular gummy bear in your hand. Stingy. “Yeah, like a gathering of people. Where you have fun,” 

“I know what a party is,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I just forgot the word.” 

“Oh,” you nod. You don’t know why it is surprising to you that he had a lapse of memory, but you sort of just assumed that Jungwon had always spoken and understood your language. “Do you speak something else at home?” 

He averts his gaze towards the water, looking over the ripples of waves as the early morning light glints off their crests. Suddenly feeling like you had overstepped, you try to dismiss the question in a flurry of gestures and sour faces. 

His eyes trace back towards you, amusement hidden beneath his deep eyes. “Yeah. I don’t talk like how I talk with you back home,” he answers plainly. 

You absorb this new information, willing yourself to relax a bit. “What do you speak then?” you wonder. 

Jungwon purses his lips, eyes roaming towards the sky as if the answer will be etched into the clouds. “I don’t really think there’s a human equivalent.” 

“Why can you talk like me then?” you implore, mind flowing with questions you had been too shy to ask previously. 

He smiles, finding your questions endearing. Jungwon wonders if this is how you feel when he asks you questions about humans—warm. Cute. 

“I’ve read it on boats, heard it from sailors,” he responds, reaching for the bag of gummy bears. He pushes a green one between two pink lips. “Merfolk are good with sounds. It’s not too hard to learn.” He watches you nod thoughtfully, gears turning many miles a minute. He kind of wishes he could walk through your mind. At least for an hour. “Is it not the same for humans?” 

You shake your head, giggling. “No, it takes humans a while to learn new languages,” you say, turning to lay on your side comfortably. “Some can learn in a few years though.” 

This baffles Jungwon, that pinch at the top of his nose forming that you have begun to grow acquainted with. “Humans really are stupid.” 

You shove his head under the water. 

—

Ever since that day with Jungwon, your relationship has become a lot easier. Strange. But easier. 

He waits for you like always, sunning himself on the rocks before retreating a little further into the water when you arrive as if he’s shy. Shy of what? You’re not sure. You’d rather him stay sunning himself—you rather enjoy the view. However, it doesn’t take long before he starts to cozy up against the jetty again once you two begin your early morning check ups. 

You’ve actually learned a lot about Jungwon these past few days. Not only about him, but about merfolk. Merfolk travel in groups, like orcas or tuna. Usually it’s confined to family, according to Jungwon, but you’re allowed to interact with merfolk outside of your kin. Blushing, he admits that typically one only travels outside of the pack when finding a mate—which you teased him relentlessly about—but there’s no strict rules on not interacting with someone outside of a familial pod. Sort of like interacting with strangers on the street—it’s not that it’s not allowed, it just might be a little strange. That is, of course, unless you’re looking to date or exchange numbers or make out in the back of some dingy bar. 

He also explains that it’s hard to know where to locate merfolk. There are some established colonies, but those are in places humans have yet to discover. You could go your whole life without seeing another pod, you suppose. However, many familial pods live further out at sea. 

“Why were you so close to the shore that night then?” you ask, doodling on the corner of some magazine you brought to show Jungwon. He took only a slight interest, preferring to learn from you than some paper. 

“Lost track of where I was, I guess.” 

And that was that. But Jungwon says he has friends and family, and tells you that merfolk are definitely on the higher end of the food chain—so don’t get it twisted!—but he mainly tells you that after you expressed concern that he would get eaten by a shark and you would never see him again. 

“Merfolk are smarter than sharks, I’ll be fine,” he dismisses, eyeing your legs like he’s done many times before. You’re not too sure why he hasn’t asked you about them yet. He’s asked you about nearly everything else, besides the obvious. 

“But sharks are, like, really fast,” you explain, as if you know better than him. Mind you, the ocean is literally his home. 

He eyes you for a second, a teasing glint in his eye surfacing slowly but surely. “Do you want to see me fight a shark?” 

You flick him in the forehead, which he whines before he flicks you back. “Don’t be weird.” 

Jungwon tells you that merfolk and humans aren’t really supposed to interact. Obviously, there’s been a history of encounters—there’s too many stories for them to be fictional like you once believed—but it’s still frowned upon. Many merfolk have been hurt or exploited, even killed in some instances by humans. You promised Jungwon that you would never do that to him. He believes you. 

However, Jungwon never really addresses the elephant in the room. Of course, there are many cultural and behavioral differences. And don’t get it wrong, you enjoy learning about them. They’re fascinating! You would’ve never imagined a whole different world beyond the one you know. Hell, you didn’t even think a world like Jungwon’s existed before you met him! Even then you were in denial. But what you really want to know about are your physical differences. 

To be fair, Jungwon is curious about them too. He eyes your legs and feet and toes every time he sees you. He watches your mouth carefully, inspecting the lack of fangs and the lack of webbing between your fingers. It baffles him, and it certainly baffles you. But you know Jungwon. He won’t be the one to ask—he gets shy about these things. So it’s going to have to be you. 

Bite the bullet, jump off the cliff, and ask what the hell it’s like having a fish tail. 

One morning, when the sun was still low and the sky not yet a bright orange, you decide to ask while Jungwon rests across a rock, lazing about as usual. He’s not really a morning person, something you learn the more and more you two see of each other. Perhaps the excitement has disappeared. Or perhaps, the comfortability has set in. 

His tail, a brilliant silver and an even richer shade of cobalt, wades leisurely in the water behind him. You watch his back rise and fall, his eyes shut and mouth in a pink pout from being pressed against his arm. He looks peaceful. Calm. Cute. What better way to ruin it by asking an obnoxious question?

“Can I touch your tail?”

Jungwon’s back stills, his whole body going rigid to the point that you are reminded that he is part animal. He lifts his head slowly, a bright red circle imprinted on his cheek from laying on it for too long. You almost want to laugh, but the look he gives you—wild and confused—makes you think better of it. After the seventh second of straight silence, you decide to back track. 

“Or your hands?” What. “Or your teeth?” Worse. “Or just anything that isn’t really human-like for that matter?” What the fuck is wrong with you. 

Jungwon is so genuinely stunned that you’re not even sure if he’s breathing anymore. He shakes his head, tiny droplets of water falling from his hair that never seems to fully dry. Jungwon begins to think a crab crawled into his ear because he can not believe what he’s hearing. 

“You want to touch my tail?” 

He’s making you nervous. “Sorry, was that offensive to ask? I don’t really know how to go about this.” 

He’s still quiet, something you’ve never known from Jungwon. Comfortable silence is one thing, and you two quite enjoy existing together in that way. However, once you say something, Jungwon always responds. Not now. 

“I just…” you begin, slowing once you notice his gaze. 

Jungwon’s eyes are sleek, narrow and lidded as if he’s stalking his next victim. And you’ve never seen Jungwon hunt—you don’t know if he’s good or bad at it—but you imagine this is what it must feel like to be his prey. Tense, shaken, maybe a little bit aroused—you don’t know! You don’t know if fish can feel that way. But you certainly do. 

His eyes never leave your face, watching carefully for any abrupt changes. It feels alarming to have him look this intensely at you. Of course, he knows what you look like. He’s seen you plenty. However, you’ve never felt as observed as you do now. Even when he eyes your legs or listens to you blab on about something unimportant, you never felt watched. Except for now. 

Suddenly feeling as if all the air in the outside world was sucked up and being sold for a billion dollars—which, of course, you can’t afford—you grow very still. You might as well never breathe again at this rate, especially if he keeps looking at you like that. You need to bring yourself back down to Earth, and hopefully bring him with you too. 

“You just always look at my legs, and I know you’re probably curious, so… I don’t know. I thought it could be fun? That sounds stupid. Um, what I mean is that we’re obviously biologically different. And not ‘cause you’re a boy and I’m girl, but because I’m a human and you’re… not. So, I thought, what better way to understand each other more than to explore each other’s bodies?” 

You definitely deserve to drown after that shit show. 

Jungwon’s mouth parts, and you’re sure it’s to call you a slew of embarrassing names, but instead he says: “You can touch my tail.” 

He makes no fuss, only maneuvering himself so he can lay himself on a rock, his tail and fins resting across the jetty. He’s mostly submerged in the water, but this is the closest you’ve been to his tail. It’s actually quite pretty. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks, and in any other circumstance, the question would prompt you to joke that he’s some sort of pervert. But when he looks at you like that, eyes shiny and imploring, so gentle and sweet, you’re rendered silent. You almost wish you could take him home with you. You don’t almost wish, you do wish it, but that would be impossible. 

“Hell yeah,” you say, beginning to rip off your shorts to reveal your bikini bottoms that you always wear in case you decide today is the day you swim around with Jungwon. Show him a little freestyle or breast stroke! Well, you guess today is the day. 

You slide into the small wedge of space next to Jungwon, not quite sitting across from him, but hovering between his fins and torso. Your knee bumps against his waist, murmuring a quick sorry, as he helps guide you into the water. The water is cold, but that’s not why you have goosebumps. 

He holds your elbow gently, only letting go once he’s sure you’re steady and comfortable. He looks at you, waiting and expecting, eyes drifting between your own and your hands that hold your legs close to your body. 

Unbeknownst to you as to why, but you’re nervous. You’ve never been this close to Jungwon before, and you’ve certainly never seen his body this well. 

Usually he keeps himself fairly submerged, the water distorting his tail and creating hypnotizing lines across his chest. If he’s not submerged, he’s laying with his back facing upwards, which, of course, you don’t mind. His back is nice. It’s broad. And very muscular. And defined. Some might even say sexy. But you're beginning to like the idea of seeing his torso too.

He keeps one hand resting on his stomach, the other resting on a rock near your shoulder. He’s really good looking. Really good looking, like, go-to-war-for-that-face good looking. To make matters worse, he’s still looking at your complexion, watching your every move, reassuring himself that you’re not uncomfortable. 

“You don’t have to…” he whispers, chuckling slightly. He’s not sure why he whispers, but he feels that if he should speak any louder, this moment between you would be broken. And Jungwon definitely wants to preserve this moment for as long as he can. 

“I want to, just,” you sigh, eyes drifting from his tail to his face. He looks at you with such interest that you almost begin to thank the sea for giving you your very own pearl. “I’m shy.” 

He giggles, leaning a bit closer to you. “You're shy?” 

You nod. “I’m shy.” 

He hums again, a sound so melodic you finally understand why you almost dove into the water for him that first night. His smile is sweet and soft as he taps your shoulder mercifully. “Come here,” he says, taking your smaller hand in his. “I’ll do it with you.”

He pulls your hand under the cool water, directing it towards the top of his tail. It’s nothing like you imagined. You pictured it to be a bit rougher—sort of like when you run your hands along those color changing sequin pillows; it’s nothing like that. It’s smoother than you expected, only a small ridge felt whenever you glide your hand upwards along the scales. He stays very still, almost not breathing for the sake of not scaring you off. 

Your hand creeps a bit higher, towards his hips and his abs instinctively flex. He hopes you don’t notice, but of course you do. Thank god you’re already in the water or else another kind of wetness would be quite noticeable. 

You decide to leave him alone, noticing the curl of his lips that he only gets when he’s a little embarrassed and agree to focus your attention on the fin that rests next to your torso. It’s quite large, certainly larger than your head. The blue becomes lighter, more of a sky blue than the royal blue that stripes along his side, as it fans along the length of his fin. The tips of his fin curl gently inwards, more like a dolphin than the pet goldfish you had growing up. It’s cute. 

“You can relax, you know,” you huff a giggle, catching his eyes as he watches your every movement. 

Jungwon releases whatever breath he was holding, a nervous laugh following soon after. His hands finding your calf, the same one he scratched weeks ago. He traces the faint scar with his nail, a whisper of a touch that you’re no longer intimidated by. 

“Is this okay?” he asks. Of course, you nod. 

You two stay like that for awile: in the silence, feeling along each other. His hands glide over your skin, and yours slide along his scales. A new exploration that you’re sure millions would die to experience, and not even because he’s a creature of myths but because he’s so undeniably handsome it kind of makes you wonder if he’s even real. 

A slight tug on your pinky toe pulls you out of your admiration, squirming a bit as he tickles your foot unintentionally. “What does this even do?” he says, bringing your foot right in front of his face. “It’s so small.” 

“It’s supposed to help with balance or something,” you chuckle. He rotates your ankle in all the ways it can go, mesmerized by the flexibility of a singular joint. 

“How? It’s so tiny.” 

You fail to suppress a giggle as his finger runs along the sole of your foot, causing your leg to kick out a nearly hit him in the face. He narrowly escapes—another—black eye, wrestling your leg back into the water and pressing it between his ribs and arm, as if it were a sea snake trying to attack him. 

“What?” 

“It tickles.” 

He snorts, eyes carving into sweet crescent moons that shine even under the bright sun. “You don’t see me complaining," he says, a slight snobiness in his voice. Certainly you couldn’t have taught him that. 

“I’m sorry,” you reply, insincerely. “Am I hurting you?” you question, a bit more genuine than your previous statement as you readjust the strength with which you were touching his tail. 

Jungwon shakes his head, beginning to run his hand up and down your knee, clearly captivated by the jut of bone that protrudes when it bends. “You could never hurt me,” he reassures softly. 

“I literally kicked you in the face that one time,” you scoff. 

He smiles cutely, his dimples putting on a pretty show just for you. “Better than being slapped with a fin,” he replies, making a face to show you that he’s definitely been slapped by a fin before and it definitely hurt. 

The more you know Jungwon, the better his speech becomes. But because Jungwon sometimes doesn’t recognize certain words that you say, you suspect that this is the first time he’s had to learn another language; only to discover that he’s fluent in several languages, some human and some not. Apparently, there are nearly a thousand different merfolk dialects, all of which are easy to pick up for other merfolk. 

“Wait, I want to try.” 

“You’re not going to be able to understand,” Jungwon says plainly, peeking one eye open as he rests his head on his arms. You guess he also gets sleepy in the morning. 

“Try me.” 

Jungwon sits up, making room for your legs as you scooch forward and dip your feet into the water. He narrows his eyes at you, their pretty, round shape becoming taunting slits as he contemplates if this is a secret he wants to let you in on. 

“Fine,” he sighs, ignoring it when your ankle bumps against his hip, instead wrapping his fingers around it as if to anchor himself. 

“I’m actually really smart, Jungwon. I don’t know why you don’t believe me,” you scoff. 

He giggles, the sun bouncing off of his eyes and warming them to a thrilling degree. “Maybe because you said swordfish and barracuda’s are basically the same thing,” he explains. 

“Key word: basically,” you groan, flicking water at him with your foot. He barely flinches. “C’mon! I want to learn.” 

Jungwon sighs, splashing a little bit of water against your leg since he can never let you win before he speaks. Whatever the hell he says, you can’t even begin to guess. It’s a series of clicks, whistles, and purrs—a language so fluid and ancient that it's pointless to try to follow. It pours from his mouth just like a quiet stream, a sound so wise and inviting. It’s a short sentence, whatever it is that he says, and he looks at you expectantly, his eyes wide and shiny just like the early morning waves. He almost looks shy. 

You’re breathless. 

“Does that mean ‘I want more gummy bears’ or something?” you guess, which causes Jungwon to laugh so loudly you’re afraid your secret might be shared. “Seriously, what does that mean?” 

He hums, and you almost think it’s another phrase in his mother tongue before he sends you that cheeky smile. “I told you that you wouldn’t understand,” he smiles. 

You want to wipe that dimple off his face. Or better yet, steal it and put it in your pocket. “I hate you,” you groan, wiping your hands down your face in frustration. “Can’t you just tell me?” 

He hums again. “I'll tell you when you’re ready.” 

—

After a while, the morning schedule grew to be a bit too demanding. You and Jungwon kept falling asleep, often waking up covered in brine and suntanned limbs that weren’t always yours, but welcome nonetheless. However, because of your unexpected slumber, you began to miss the time you spent talking with him. Turns out, Jungwon did too, as he’s the one to suggest that you two meet up later in the day, when the beach goers return home for dinner. You couldn’t have come up with a better plan yourself. 

After spending the day in the blazing sun with your friends, shopping in an outdoor mall and spending all of the weekly budget you set aside for yourself, you’re more than happy to jump into the water for a swim in your new bikini. 

Jungwon watches you as you leisurely paddle about, ignoring as his eyes burn your skin despite the refreshing water. He pushes off the jetty and glides over to you, his tail trailing behind him much more gracefully than your flailing legs. And it’s not even that you’re a bad swimmer—you’re actually pretty decent—but next to Jungwon, you might as well be a piece of plastic floating next to a sweet little jellyfish. 

“Let me help,” he says, reaching for your hands as he begins to notice you growing tired of treading water. 

You push him with no real force, trying to swim away playfully as if your muscles aren’t begging for some reprieve. “I can swim fine, thank you,” you insist, kicking water up in hopes of annoying him. 

But Jungwon, ever the most patient, doesn’t give in. “I know you can swim fine,” he reassures. “But still, let me help you.” 

He doesn’t wait for your response before tugging you towards him by your ankle. You flip on your back, floating helplessly in the water as he holds your foot to his chest. He’s warm, unlike most sea creatures—at least, you assume—letting you feel the steady drum of his heart under the sole of your foot. It picks up slightly when you flash him a breathless smile, but you choose to ignore it for his sake. He can get quite bashful, you’ve begun to learn after the countless times you've caught him staring. 

“You caught me,” you sigh, deciding to relax and let him take over. This is his domain after all. 

He lightly pulls you towards him, letting go of your foot and instead hooking his arms around your waist. You drape your arms over his broad shoulders, trying your hardest not to think about how sturdy he feels under your palms. The flex of his shoulder muscle was definitely tempting—dare you say delicious—but alas, one must persist! 

“I caught you,” he smiles, so close that your noses almost brush. However, it only lasts a brief second before he blushes and turns away, pretending there is something far more interesting on the left of you. You’re sure that the seagull that has been floating a few yards away for the last five minutes is not more captivating than you—if his glances are anything to go by—but you’ll ignore it. For now. “Relax. I got you.” 

And relax, you do. Your arms and legs are spent from swimming around. So much for cooling off! Resting your head on Jungwon’s shoulder, you let the water decorating his skin cool the heat bubbling in your face. You hope he’s too absorbed in whatever it is he’s staring at to notice. 

It doesn’t matter if he does notice anyway, you think. It’s not like anything would come of it. Seriously, he’s a whole different creature. There’s no world in which that could possibly fly. But for now, you’ll enjoy what you have and make the most of it. 

“Is this okay?” you ask, more worried that he’s now holding up your entire bodyweight rather than your proximity to one another. 

He nods, tucking his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. You’re sure you smell like the sea, but you’re also sure that he doesn’t mind. He literally lives in the ocean. “I like being close to you,” he says, as if it isn’t the most devastating thing for you to hear. But before you can even open your mouth to ask what he means, he swerves towards a different conversation. “What do you do when you’re not here with me?” 

You lean back, now met with those same pair of eyes that consistently sweep you off your feet—literally. Jungwon leans away from you too, eyes flickering back and forth like he can’t decide where he would prefer to focus. It’s cute. 

“Depends,” you reply, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead. He attempts to swat your hand away but fails. It’s not like he was really trying either way. “Sometimes I work, sometimes I go to my parents’ house. Most of the time, I’m with my friends if I’m not with you.” 

“What are your parents like?” 

“My mom’s cool,” you answer. You like when he asks you questions like this. It makes you feel like you can bring a piece of him with you when you leave the beach—almost as if he’s a regular human man and you’re a regular woman, just hanging out with her friend. Friend? Situationship? No. That sounds stupid. “My dad is kind of weird, though. I don’t know if you two would get along.” 

Jungwon cocks his head to the side, confused. “Why not?” 

You shrug, trying to think of the least creepy way to confess that your dad is very obsessed with sea creatures. “He just is.” 

That’ll have to do. Jungwon nods, although he seems unsatisfied. 

“What about your parents?” 

Jungwon sighs, his fingers tracing swirls along the small of your back. It tickles, but you don’t mind. A funny look crosses his face, as if he’s hiding something from you, but you won’t pry. You like watching him think. Whenever Jungwon is deep in thought, he tends to purse his lips in a perfectly kissable way and look up towards the sky, as if the clouds will sketch out the answer for him. It never works, and he always ends up having to use his brain power instead. It’s still endearing nonetheless. 

“My mom and dad are a little afraid of humans,” he admits. “They wouldn’t understand why I like spending time with you so much.” 

“Oh,” you nod slowly, digesting this new information. Afraid of humans. “Why?” 

“I don’t know how to put it,” he confesses, tugging you a little closer like he’s worried you’ll back away if he says the wrong thing. You begin to draw the same pattern on his shoulder, and that seems to calm him a little if the swish of his tail is anything to go by. “I guess it’s just unfamiliarity. The only times they interact are typically on a full moon, and that’s usually a dangerous time for both of us. I guess I’m lucky that you’re the only human I know.” 

You shoot him a bewildered look, one that stops him cold. “Why is it dangerous?” 

The swirls on your back stop, and Jungwon’s spine grows rigid, every bit the animal side of him you’re very well aware of whenever he asserts his strength over you or you catch sight of the gills on his side. “Let’s talk about something else.” 

You nod, looking away from his suddenly stoic expression. Dangerous? You can understand why humans and merfolk don’t interact much for a series of reasons—fishing, poaching, oil spills… Besides, you’re not too sure humans would be all too kind to merfolk if they were to spot one in broad daylight. However, during the full moon? Why hadn’t he mentioned that to you before? It has been nearly a month since you’ve known Jungwon, and you’ve seen him nearly every day since that fateful night—safe for maybe twice when you caught a bizarre summer flu. Would he have told you if it weren’t for this conversation? 

“What do you like to do with your friends?” he asks, trying to catch your eyes. 

You flinch, suddenly scaring yourself with all of the possibilities of what his previous statement might mean. But when you look into his eyes, deeper than twilight, you know that he would never hurt you. Sure, he’s stronger. He’s faster. His nails are kind of sharp, and some of his teeth file into a point. However, he’s always been gentle with you. Soft spoken and kind. The sweetest out of anyone or anything you’ve ever met. And suddenly, you feel like crying for ever doubting Jungwon’s care for you. He always remembers everything you say, and asks questions the best he can, even if he doesn’t understand. He listens like it’s his lifeline, his duty, and watches you closely to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or aren’t growing tired of spending time with him. You think he might be the nicest person you’ve ever met, despite giving you that scar on your calf. But it’s something to remember him by; it’s a piece of him you can take with you. You know him, and he sure as hell knows you. 

Reaching upwards, you delicately trace the underside of his jaw. His eyes widen slightly, shocked by your bold movement, but he melts into it as if he can’t help it. You wish you could watch him melt over and over again. He leans into your hand, chasing the touch and sighs, an airy sound that you would totally make fun of him for if you weren’t also completely invested in this moment. 

“Talk. Just like we do,” you answer simply, poking the small freckle on the side of his chin. 

He smiles softly, holding you even tighter if possible. “I hope you don’t talk with them exactly like how we talk,” he huffs, pouting. 

God, you could kiss it off. Focus!

“Not exactly,” you reassure, allowing your eyes to wander to his mouth for a split second. You hope the triangle method hasn’t also infected the seven seas, and that the merfolk when Jungwon comes from are unaware of what it could mean. “We go out to eat, go to parties… sleepovers,” you sigh. “I like spending time with you more, though.” 

Jungwon hopes you can’t notice, but he thinks his heart just skipped a beat before slamming against his ribcage. “Really?” he wonders. 

You nod shyly, entranced by every small curve and line of his face. Jungwon follows your lead, examining every detail that makes you whole, and pretending as if he hasn’t been discreetly doing that the entire time. 

One thing about you is that you’re usually always very composed. Very focused. He never watches your eyes wander, whereas he can’t seem to stop looking at you. He loves watching the way your lips form when you talk, when you smile, and he loves watching you think and nap and swim—despite it looking kind of funny to him—and how you breathe. Nothing you could do would be boring to him. You’re always interesting. He wonders how you do it. 

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks abruptly, as if he doesn’t see you every day. 

You look at him, almost solemn. Tracing his jaw again, you allow yourself to relish in the comfort of him before you burst this little bubble you two have created for yourselves. 

“I’m out all day, and then the girls are coming over to mine,” you groan, almost annoyed at the fact that you do have a life outside of swimming and lazing around with Jungwon. “Yunjin’s cousin Chaewon broke up with her partner finally, and we’re going to get drunk to celebrate her leaving that awful man.” 

“Drunk?” 

“That funny way I was acting when we first met,” you explain, now gliding your finger tips across his collarbone. It’s so dainty. You wonder how someone that strong could also seem so delicate. “It happens when you drink something called alcohol.” 

He nods slowly, downtrodden. You can tell he’s upset that he won’t be able to see you tomorrow, and he knows that you can tell too. It’s not often that you two skip a day from seeing each other. 

You hug him closer, tucking yourself into the crook of his neck. Jungwon hugs you back, his arm wrapping around your waist as his other arm cradles your head against him. You could so easily kiss his neck if you wanted. It’s right there, and your lips are practically pressed against it. But you can’t, and you won’t. 

Pulling away, you point to your house—white with the porch and baby blue shutters—that sits in a row of houses that look down on the beach from their cliffside perch. He follows your finger, nearly pressing his cheek to yours to make sure he’s following the correct eyeline. 

“That’s my house. Just look over there if you ever miss me, okay?” you tell him. He stares at your house for a good while, memorizing its shape and the houses neighboring yours. 

“Okay,” he nods, looking to you once he feels it’s been sufficiently ingrained in his mind. “Maybe I’ll show up for this ‘break-up’ celebration.” 

You snort. “As if.” 

—

You hate to admit it, but you’re kind of having fun right now.

Everyone’s on their second glass of wine, snacks and candy thrown across your coffee table to fuel the gossip of tonight’s gathering. Your friends are all screaming and giggling, cozily lounging about in their pajamas. And you hate to admit it, you really do, but you’re having a blast. 

Of course, you missed seeing Jungwon today. You had a comically horrible shift at your job today that you would’ve loved to tell him about, but there’s always tomorrow! Maybe you have grown a little too attached to him. Although you’ve seen your friends heaps of times over this summer, your mind has always been somewhere else—somewhere where Jungwon is present. 

But now, as Chaewon explains how she found her ex’s Tinder profile and how she confronted him, you’re okay with Jungwon taking a back seat for now. You have your girls. They have you. All is well. 

“And then, when I confronted him about it, this motherfucker had the audacity to blame it on me!” Chaewon all but shrieks as she slams her hands down on your coffee table, rattling the array of wine glasses you snagged from the back of your cupboard. All of you gasp, shoveling popcorn and sour gummies into your mouths as you lean in, fully invested. “He tried to tell me that if I listened to him more whenever he talked about his dumb fucking video games, then he wouldn’t have cheated. Bitch, if you had given me better head, maybe I would’ve been more inclined to listen!”  

Lara howls with laughter, as Yunjin and Daniela run a lap around your living room to calm themselves down. You damn near choke on your wine, letting the rosé warm your cheeks. You’re happy. 

But you’re even happier to hear the doorbell ring for pizza. 

“Fucking finally!” Yunjin exclaims, reclaiming her spot on your couch next to her cousin. “I’m starving.” 

“Thank fuck—they got here early,” you say, not even bothering to check the Uber Eats status on your phone. You hop up from your spot on the rug, shuffling down the hallway towards your front door. Peaking into the bathroom, stationed right next to the door, you check to make sure you don’t look too flustered—just in case this is someone you remember from high school and want to impress for some reason. After deciding your hair looks voluminous and your tits sit great in your tank top, you decide you’re certainly presentable enough to face this pizza delivery man. 

However, upon opening the door, you realize that there is no pizza delivery man. In fact, there isn’t even a pizza. 

You recognize his eyes first. Hell, you’d recognize those eyes out of a billion. You could’ve been blinded by the sun, scorched by acid, and hit by a car before you wouldn’t be able to recognize them. However, caught off guard by being face to face with a pair of eyes you’re familiar with, it takes your brain a few seconds to register one very crucial factor: you’ve never seen these eyes other than at the beach. 

You aren’t at the beach. You’re at your house. 

Not only are you at your house, but your house is up a hill. One needs legs to walk up a hill, or anything for that matter. So why would these pair of eyes, one that you’re both very elated and very confused to see, be at your front door step? Oh, only for one reason of course!

Jungwon has sprung fucking legs. 

“Hi,” he smiles shyly. 

A bodily reaction that one could only describe as both becoming a human rocket and rigor mortis occurs within you all at once. Your body shakes so violently that you’ve gone still. You’re practically frozen. Mouth opening and closing rather quickly, you struggle to find the words you need to be able to articulate how you feel in this very moment. Jungwon seems pleased. He even has the nerve to giggle a little bit as he watches your brain work over time. 

Part of you wants to think you were roofied. Why would you have been roofied? You don’t know, not that there is ever a justifiable reason to be roofied. But maybe your friends slipped something to you that you didn’t second guess enough—maybe an edible? Yes. It has to be an edible. Why else would you be picturing Jungwon on your front step with fucking legs? Did you seriously miss him that bad? How pathetic! 

But when Yunjin shouts for you to hurry up with the pizza, you realize this is no bad trip and this is no hallucination. Jungwon is here—at your front door—with legs. And he’s fucking naked. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you scream, all of the neurons in your brain suddenly firing all at once. 

Jungwon yelps as you tug him inside, stumbling over his feet—feet that you’re not entirely sure he knows how to work yet—as you shove him into your bathroom. Slamming the door shut behind him, you run to your bedroom, ignoring the concerned looks of your friends as you nearly wipe out while turning the corner. 

Shuffling through your drawers and closet, you eventually find a pair of sweatpants that you snagged from an ex-boyfriend and a top that you’re sure your dad gave to you as a sleep shirt if the sheer enormity of it is enough to go by. Hopefully, it’ll fit Jungwon. Although, it seems that he has absolutely no problem with being in the fucking nude. 

Wait. He was naked. 

You were so surprised to see him that you barely had a chance to recognize the severity of the situation. Not only could your neighbors have seen some random man—although not random to you—standing on your front porch, but they might have seen him butt-fucking-naked. Thankfully, he had the decency to not fully expose himself. At least, you think.

You rush back to the front bathroom before any of your friends can catch onto the problem at hand. You fling the door open, Jungwon practically plastered against the wall as he looks at you and the clothes in your hands. Glancing towards the ceiling in hopes of giving him some privacy, you offer him the clothes. 

“I don’t really have anything else for you to wear, and you can’t be fucking naked in front of me,” you say. 

Jungwon just stares at the clothes, confused. You shake your hands aggressively, and he eventually takes it, trying his best to figure out how to put the clothes on. 

Jungwon tries to stick his foot through one of the holes, but he ends up losing his balance and nearly crashing to the floor. You manage to catch his arm and tug him up straight, but not before he knocks over a soap bottle and a couple of decorative items on the bathroom sink. 

“Shh!” you hush, accidentally glancing down in attempts to see if he had hurt himself at all. But upon catching a glimpse of the skin on his thigh, your eyes shoot straight back upwards. “My friends will hear you.” 

Eventually, he does okay with the pants, only stumbling a few times. He finds his balance by gripping the sink counter and is able to get his feet through the sweatpants, wriggling them up over his new legs. Finally looking away from the ceiling, you come face to face with a flustered and bashful Jungwon. Fuck, maybe you did miss him. 

“Hi. Sorry,” he whispers, smiling like the situation is funny. And to him, it is. He hasn’t seen you lose your cool this bad since the first time he met you, and he couldn’t even register how out of character that was because he didn’t know you then. Now he knows you. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admits, handing the shirt back to you. 

“Oh,” you blink, taking the cotton fabric in your hands. You bunch the fabric up towards the neck, standing on your toes so you can tug it over his head. His face pops right out, giving you a sheepish grin. For the first time since he’s stepped foot on your property, you return the favor. You guide his arms through the sleeves, the t-shirt sitting quite comfortably on his broad frame. The pants are a little long, sweeping the floor a bit whenever he shuffles about, but it’ll do. For anyone else, they’ll think it’s a fashion choice. “Do… Do these feel okay? Are you comfortable?” 

He looks down towards the clothes he’s managed to put on, gaze returning to your face as quickly as it left. “I think so,” he nods. “I don’t really know what they’re supposed to feel like.” 

“Right,” you say, because, really, what else is there to say? 

You finally take a good look at Jungwon, now that he’s dressed and you feel like you have permission to ogle a bit. He’s dry, for starters. No matter how long he suns himself, it seems like his hair is always wet. Now it’s… well… dry. It doesn’t seem to be damaged from the copious amounts of salt water that have touched it over the years; it seems quite soft and much longer than you originally thought as he blows a strand away from his forehead. He’s taller than you, and you’re not sure why that surprises you. His tail was quite long. But that was a tail. Not legs. His shoulders are broad, that of which you already knew, but seeing them hidden by the silly shirt draping his frame is sort of driving you crazy. You miss them. “How… what…?” 

He sighs and takes a shaky step towards you. Instinctively, you reach your arms out to prevent him from falling but he just wraps his arms around you, simple and plain. His heart raps wildly against his chest, and it’s probably due to the excitement of the day but you selfishly hope it’s for you. 

“Jungwon, how the fuck did you get here?” you mumble into the t-shirt, not quite ready to let go just yet. You hate to admit it, but perhaps your heart is also pumping a bit faster than usual. And perhaps it’s because of him.  

“My friend told me a story,” he starts, pulling away from you so he can look into your eyes. He’s beaming. “That some merfolk can turn into humans. So I tried it, and it works!” he grins, shaking your shoulders in excitement. “Not everyone can do it, apparently. But I can!” 

You look down at his legs. “I can’t believe you’re a fucking human.” 

“I’m a fucking human!” he shouts, nearly toppling over from sheer excitement. “Now I can see you all the time.” His eyes are so sincere and your heart nearly bursts. 

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling ear to ear. “You can.” 

Just then, a knock sounds from the door behind you and Jungwon practically jumps out of his skin.

“Who the fuck is in the bathroom with you?!” Yunjin shrieks. 

Riiight, my friends are here, you think. Shit. 

—

Explaining Jungwon to the girls was a lot easier than you thought it was going to be. Of course, you didn’t tell the truth. That wouldn’t go over well. But what they won’t know, won’t kill them. After successfully explaining to them that Jungwon was a friend from school who surprised you by coming into town, they were more than accepting of his presence. After all, a cute boy showing up on your door step for an impromptu visit? They’re just happy you’re back in the dating game—or so they think. 

It’s funny seeing Jungwon sit amongst your friends, the stillness in a sea of tipsy giggles. Jungwon stays quiet most of the time, eagerly listening to all of their stories, but mostly enthralled by the amount of human snacks he now easily has at his disposal. 

When everyone leaves, and you’re all alone with him, you’re not quite sure of what to do. Considering you’ve been alone with him many times before, it’s almost comical. But now he’s in your house. He’s human. Both are facts that you never thought would actually be true. 

You stay up with him for a long time after your friends leave. Still shocked as you watch the young man curled up in the corner of your couch, fascinated by the way his toes wiggle and scrunch. He quickly learns the art of footsies, as he can’t help but touch you, even as the two of you sit on opposite ends of the couch. And although you’re not exactly a fan of feet, you don’t mind entertaining a game of footsies as long as it’s with Jungwon. 

He’s amazed by the TV, eyes reflecting purple and red and all kinds of neon as he does his best to absorb the new information he’s receiving. It’s like a speed course on human behavior. Eventually, you have to turn off the television so he’ll pay attention to you, but he doesn’t mind. He’ll just have to watch more of this another time if you let him. 

Upon intense questioning, Jungwon reiterates what he told you earlier but in greater detail. His friend, Sunghoon, had told him of a long forgotten, and seemingly taboo, tale of how some merfolk could walk on land. He said it was a trend centuries ago, before the oceans had been polluted by human behavior. It was seen as a form of entertainment. Sometimes it was done for pleasure. However, once humans began to destroy the sea with their many devices, merfolk stopped trying to blend in with and learn from humans. It was too hazardous. 

Jungwon shares that he tried to gather more information, asking his elders if it was possible for merfolk to become human but the conversation was always shut down. It wasn’t until his grandmother indulged in a secret that her grandmother used to be a land walker. That she would bathe herself in light and join the humans at her leisure. She warned that that was ages ago; times have changed. However, this meant that he also had the ability to do the same. 

He followed his grandmother's instructions, finding a quiet and safe place to bathe in the sun. According to him, it took awhile. But once the sun was set, he had begun to sprung legs. 

“Was it painful?” you asked, rubbing your foot along his calf. 

Jungwon shakes his head slowly, watching the movement of your leg. “It was sort of uncomfortable. But it's not painful.” 

He shares how he practiced walking, deciding to disguise himself in the dark of night to prevent anyone from seeing him. Just in case, he said. He said it was hard, and how he’s not sure how humans are able to do it so easily. Or how they’re able to run! That’s a whole new challenge, but he’s willing to learn. 

“I remember you pointed to where your house was, and I just tried my best to walk there,” he said, now moving to be closer to you. He’s still trying to understand that his legs get in the way, so after his knee digs into your leg uncomfortably, he shifts to tuck his legs beneath himself. “I was really tired but when I saw you, I couldn’t feel it anymore,” he smiles, slightly taller than you from the way he’s perched. “I was so happy to see you.” 

“I was so surprised,” you confess, covering your cheeks out of exasperation. Your face heats under his grin. 

“You looked kind of silly,” he laughs. Jungwon drops his jaw and widens his eyes cartoonishly, making fun of your reaction. 

You shove him over, causing him to fall onto his back and kick his feet up in the air. He narrowly misses you, but you don’t mind. You’re too happy to have him with you. 

In the middle of your conversation, Jungwon passes out, sprawled across your couch in a way you’ve never seen a human body positioned before. It’s his first day as a human, so you decide to cut him some slack. Wrapping him in a blanket, as well as leaving an extra—in case he gets cold—you trudge to your bedroom and miss him despite him existing in the next room. 

Early the next morning, while Jungwon is still asleep, you rush out to the store to pick up a few things. As handsome as he is, he cannot live in those ratty sweatpants forever. Guessing what his size might be, you pick up a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts that you think he might like. You try to stick to softer material, not wanting to irritate his skin. You’ve also never had to buy underwear for a man before, but hopefully you did a good job. Nobody has ever gone wrong with Calvin Klein. Besides, the idea of seeing the waistband of his underwear poking of the top of his pants kind of makes your nipples—

Jungwon is wide awake when you get home. Hair still mussed from sleep, but he figured out how to get the television working—it’s set to some old movie that you’re not sure you’ve seen. However, he seems transfixed. He rises from his spot, walking much more steadily than yesterday as he greets you with a hug. He smells like the breeze and sleep and something you want to have by your side forever. 

He watches you cook breakfast, clinging to your side like he’s afraid you might leave again. It’s cute, despite how warm he is. You two eat breakfast on your porch, discussing your plans for the day and asking if he’d like to join. Of course, Jungwon would be insane to say no. 

After breakfast, you show him his clothes and force him to do a fashion show for you. He doesn’t quite understand why you're so excited, but he’d do anything to make you smile. 

“Do you like it?” you ask, sitting on the edge of your bed as he struts about your room. 

He looks down at the shirt and jeans he has on, shrugging absentmindedly. He thinks they’re fine. It’s not like he knows what would look good. He feels like he’s kind of dressed like the guy he saw on your TV not too long ago, and he thought he was cool. But besides that, he doesn’t really know what would look good on him. What he does know is that you look good. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, biting down a smile as your eyes rake over his frame three times over. He likes the way you clasp your hands on your lap, doing your best to be polite and patient although he knows you are fighting demons to not shout out your opinion. He also quite likes the crinkle that forms in the corner of your eyes as you try your best not to giggle. He very much likes that he can see the curve of your tits over the hem of your top as you clasp your hands even tighter. He’s not sure if he can tell you that though. He’ll have to watch more television to see if that’s something that is okay to say to a girl. 

“It’s nice,” is what Jungwon settles on telling you, and you smile even brighter than he thought possible. He could get used to this. 

You decide to take him around town for the day, deciding fresh air and social interaction is just what Jungwon needs in order to understand human behavior. He is more than thrilled to be involved. You can practically hear your father nagging you for housing merfolk, especially after his near death experience. But Jungwon would never do that to you. 

He had no idea that there were so many places—stores, you call them—where humans could buy things. He’s entranced by the grocery store, amazed by the selection of gummies that he now has access to. The concept of not touching everything he sees is a bit new to him, and you have to inform him that people tend to find it quite rude if you touch every single fruit in the produce section. However, always the avid listener, he follows your instructions until they become second nature. 

Jungwon is shocked by your ability to stay focused in such lively places. There’s so much noise—much different from the quiet roar of the sea. He’s surprised to hear you talk about how quiet your town is, and how there are even busier areas where humans live called the city. He’s not sure if he could survive living in a place like that.

There are also so many formalities. Saying please and thank you and no, you go ahead to every small interaction. He’s fascinated with your ability to memorize all these small things. Maybe, one day, he’ll be a master of them too. 

You take him out to eat, just at some small diner not too far from your house. He lets you pick something for him to eat, since he’s still not all that familiar with human food. The waitress is nice, but he thinks you’re nicer—laughing at all his jokes and smiling softly while he rambles about what his favorite part of the day was so far. You hate to say it, but you’re completely enamoured by him. 

You enjoy how he purses his lips when he finds something you say amusing, but doesn’t quite want to announce it. He likes how you play with your earlobe when you get shy. Small things. He barely even realizes how hungry he is until the food arrives, he’s too preoccupied with you. But he thinks maybe his second favorite thing—you being first—is human food. The burger you ordered him seems to be quite a hit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a person eat that fast, not even half of your meal finished before he cleans the entirety of his plate. Jungwon isn’t very picky, it seems. 

The days pass by like this, quietly but comfortably. Jungwon slowly learns more and more about what it means to be human, the behaviors and the mentality. You see him grow more comfortable out in the open, no longer adhered to your side, and more willing to try things on his own. 

Despite his growing independence, the two of you grow closer than before, if that’s even possible. He helps you cook and clean, entertaining you with silly stories or questions that you can’t help but answer. It’s domestic. You even bring him into work one day, letting him sit in the back with a movie on your laptop while you bore yourself to death. Jungwon never seems to mind. He never complains. If anything, he’s just happy to be with you. 

Jungwon only lasts one more night on your couch. By the third night, he comes shuffling into your room, lightly rapping against the door right as you’re about to fall asleep. Flinching awake, you turn on your lamp as you squint at the young man standing in your doorway. He stands there awkwardly, scratching his neck in embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong, Jungwon? Are you okay?” you mumble, drowsiness laced in your voice. 

He nods quickly, not wanting to worry you. “I”m okay. I’m okay. I just-” he huffs, shifting his weight repeatedly. You can tell he’s searching for the words, whether he has them or not, you’re not sure. Sometimes you wish you could speak his language, maybe it would make it easier for you to understand him. “I don’t want to sleep on the couch.” 

This stuns you. This might be the first time you’ve heard him complain. 

“Why? Is it uncomfortable?” you ask, sitting up. The neck of your sleep shirt slides down one shoulder and Jungwon’s eyes follow the movement. “I can give you some extra pillows if you want.” 

“No, it’s not uncomfortable,” he replies, shaking his head once again. You can see him grow more hesitant by the second, playing with his fingers as he tries to decipher what would be the most appropriate phrasing. He’s not sure how to communicate what he wants from you. None of the movies he’s studied over the past few days have shown him how to do this. 

“What’s up, Jungwon?” you ask once again, your eyes softening. 

Jungwon grows weak, melting into the warmth of your gaze. He feels a heat stir in his lower stomach that he’s still trying to navigate with his new body. Finally, after rationalizing that you’ve never seriously berated him for any of his thoughts or questions, he decides to bite the bullet. “Can I sleep in your bed?” 

“Oh!” you gasp, shocked by his forwardness. “Like… you want to swap?” 

He shakes his head at your misunderstanding. “No!” he damn near shouts. “I was thinking we could share?” 

His suggestion makes your toes curl and a giggle bubbles up from your stomach. Feeling like a school girl again, you nod slowly, lifting the covers for him to join you. He quickly shuffles over, a shy smile spreading across his pink lips like frosting. You wish you could kiss it and have it stain your mouth. He slides under your covers, pulling them right up to his chin. It was hard for him to imagine something as comfortable as this, having only slept on the couch for the last few nights. Now he knows. 

“Why’d you want to sleep in here?” you ask, shutting the light off as you lie back down. “You can be honest and tell me that the couch was uncomfortable. I got it second hand.” 

You can hear the pillow case rustle underneath his head as he denies your comment. “Just missed you is all,” he admits. 

Suddenly, it’s as if all the air is sucked out of the room and you’re left pleading for oxygen. “But I’m only one room away,” you chuckle breathlessly, knowing that you subconsciously—or consciously—have been missing him in your sleep as well. 

“I know,” he says, moving closer to you. He can feel your body heat interacting with his, absorbing and morphing into something new entirely. “Still missed you, though.” 

Jungwon sleeps with you every night after that. And every night, you rest easier and more deeply than you ever have. 

You show him all kinds of things. Your favorite TV shows, the mall, and even the gym. However, you had to leave as soon as some man approached you and asked for your number. Jungwon didn’t seem to take much pleasure in the idea of other men approaching you. 

“I was literally right there,” he pouted as he sat in the front seat of your car. “I don’t get why he would even approach you when I was there.” 

You smile fondly, reaching over to rub his shoulder. He seems to calm down at your touch. “Maybe he thought you were just a friend.” 

Jungwon whips his head to the side. If it were biologically possible, you would believe that his eyes grew ten shades darker. Apparently, you need to make a mental note to never say something so supposedly ludicrous to Jungwon ever again. “I’m yours,” he says. 

Whatever that means. 

To make up for the fiasco that happened at the gym, you decide to take Jungwon to a place you figured he’d really like: the carnival. 

Lara has been bugging you all week, blowing up your phone incessantly and asking if you’d join her and some of your friends at the carnival this weekend. Usually, you’d try to ditch. The carnival has occurred every summer since you were little, and you’re sure it started way before that. With overpriced tickets, overpriced food, and overpriced games, you typically try to avoid the carnival altogether and save your wallet from the damage you will inevitably suffer. However, after seeing Jungwon’s eyes light up at the thought, you decided—after very little contemplation—that attending said overpriced carnival wouldn’t be awful.

Your friends are surprised to see Jungwon, considering they thought he was only supposed to stay with you for a few days, but are happy nonetheless. They drag him every which way, encouraging him to throw darts at balloons and make the tiny tea cup he manages to squeeze into spin as fast as he can. Surprisingly, he does very well with being tossed and spun around—it must do with his exposure to relentless sea currents. However, after experiencing a severe case of vertigo, you manage to convince your friends to take it easy on the rides and sit down for a while. 

“Having fun?” you ask Jungwon, sipping on a lemonade. It’s more water than lemon and sugar, but it’s cool and helps bring you back down to earth. 

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding around a bite of fried dough. The powdered sugar clings to the side of his lips and you wipe it away with your thumb. Consequently, your friends giggle from their corner of the picnic table. You can’t tell if it’s the vibrant lights of the carnival, but Jungwon’s cheeks grow a soft shade of rose. “Are you?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, snagging a piece of his snack. “I don’t usually have fun at these kinds of things, but I’m having fun with you.” 

“You don’t like carnival rides?” he asks, stealing a sip of your lemonade. He doesn’t bother to wipe the straw before or after. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, I like them. These ones are just kind of lame. There’s much bigger ones at other places.” 

“Like in Diary of a Wimpy Kid?” 

“Exactly.” 

Jungwon nods slowly, flexing his fingers before he clasps his hands in his lap. He looks upward towards the sky, amazed at the fact that he can still see the stars through all this light. Tracing them with his eyes, he finds your silhouette in the stars. Why his family would ever want to keep him from finding and staying with you is beyond his comprehension. 

“I’d like to ride one of those rollercoasters someday,” he shares after being quiet for sometime. He’s still gazing upwards, eyes sparkling like fireworks. You stare at the dainty mole on his chin, wishing that you could press a kiss to it. If you could, you would give him the world. 

“You will,” you say, reaching for his hands. He looks at you, the sparkle in his eyes never dimming. “We’ll go.” 

Yunjin coughs obnoxiously, the rest of your friends snickering evilly. You’re going to kill them. You turn your head ever so slowly, wishing the horrific music that was playing in your head would play aloud for once so it could add to this intimidating vibe you are going for. But alas, it doesn’t, and you have to agree to shoot daggers at them with your eyes instead. 

“We’re going to go ride the ferris wheel,” she announces, standing up from the picnic bench. The other girls follow suit. “Do you want to come or are you guys going to keep acting like freaks and hold hands?” 

You roll your eyes, but when Jungwon doesn’t make a move to let go of your hand, you don’t either. Besides, your hands were getting quite cold from holding your lemonade, so really he’s just helping you out. Right? Right. 

“We’ll go, we’re just gonna clean up first. We’ll meet you there.” 

After you and Jungwon clean up the rest of the mess left on the table, you join the girls only to be yelled at by a couple for trying to cut in line. Trying your hardest to show the best side of your humanity, you drag Jungwon to the back of the line. Normally, you would have no problem cussing the girl and her unfortunate looking boyfriend out, but again, you want Jungwon to see your good side. He’s already seen you damn near belligerent and screaming for help, you might as well try to preserve what little remains of your dignity. Besides, you don’t mind being separated from your friends. It just means more one-on-one time with Jungwon. (Not like you haven’t had plenty of that over the last few days.) You’ll meet up with them once the ride is over. 

The carnival barker gestures to your car, buckling the two of you in. Jungwon rapidly pounds his feet up and down in excitement, a habit you’re not sure when he developed but you’ve grown to be affectionate towards. Your knees touch, and neither of you pull away, Jungwon enamoured with the idea of riding the ferris wheel, and you, enamoured with him. 

The ride jolts with a start, shocking Jungwon. As he flinches, he reaches for your hand, a welcomed surprise.

He babbles mindlessly, about how he’s never imagined being up this high in the air before, and how he hopes the ride doesn’t fail. He tells you how he can’t tell if he’s jittery because of the height or because of all of the sugar he just consumed, and you just laugh, squeezing his hand tighter. When your palms start to grow sweaty, neither of you mind because it’s the two of you and whatever you give, he’ll take. 

“I’m so happy right now,” he admits, smiling so wide that his eyes turn into crescent moons. You grin too, flashing him a smile as bright as the moon. 

“Me too,” you agree, squeezing his hand tighter. 

“This is so cool!” he damn near shrieks, rocking the cart a bit. You reach for the bar instinctively, eyes growing wide in a way that makes him cackle. You whack his leg, and despite the sting in his thigh, he doesn’t move away. “You can see everything up here.” 

“You think that’s our jetty?” you ask, pointing to a collection of rocks that are faintly carved out above the sea line. 

Jungwon squints, trying his best to follow your line of view. “No,” he shakes his head, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Ours would be farther that way,” he says, gesturing in some direction. 

“How do you know?” you question, squinting at the young man. 

“Because I know the ocean better than you do,” he mutters, in a voice so matter of fact you’re certain he had to pick it up from someone else because no way in hell you would teach him to speak to you like that. “Besides, I…” 

You watch Jungwon, observing how his eyes shift elsewhere, the smile in his face slipping into more of a confused gape. You call his name, wondering what has caught his attention so abruptly. Following his eyeline, you spot a car ahead of you. A couple—perhaps the one from earlier, you’re not sure—are sitting closely together, wrapped in each other's arms. Despite being multiple feet in front of you, it’s clear what they are doing, and it seems like Jungwon has also caught on. They kiss each other slowly, a passion you would hope they’d save for the privacy of their own home rather than the public eye. But as always, there has to be that couple. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, growing confused by his sudden reaction. “Do you not know what kissing is?” 

Jungwon tears his gaze from them, looking both scandaled and offended by your comment. “Of course I know what kissing is. I’m not stupid,” he scoffs, that crinkle between his brow appearing. 

“Just checking!” you shrug, not sure of what to say. You haven’t seen him this amazed by something since he first turned on the television. “I wasn’t sure if merfolk kissed or not.”

“Of course we fucking kiss!” he yelps, a slight edge to his tone that you find somewhat comical. “I’ve just… I’ve just never seen people kiss like that before,” he confesses, squeezing your palm. 

His eyes drift back to the couple, curious and imploring. You never quite thought of how merfolk kiss until now. Is it softer? Harder? Does it mean something else to them, as it means to humans? 

“I think I’d like to try though.” 

What? 

Now, if you aren’t mistaken, you recall having some knowledge of kissing under your belt. And by some, you mean a sufficient amount. You’re not one to dilly dally, and after years of drunk parties and dares, you’ve kissed enough people to probably last a lifetime. To put it plainly, you get around. However, when Jungwon looks at you like that, with his eyes all wide and shiny, you feel like you’re twelve again. You’re not sure of what to do or what to say. He would only say that if he wanted to kiss you, right? No way he meant someone else, he doesn’t even know other girls besides your friends and he only really talks to them when it comes to you. Unless he likes men? 

Jungwon calls your name, the warmth of his palm on your thigh is sudden but welcomed. He’s closer than you remember him being, but you can’t find it within yourself to back away. You can see the way his eyes crinkle slightly with a soft smile, and the way his lips curl upwards. The dimple on his cheek calls your name in a tone so sweet you feel light-headed, and you’re certain that the small giggle that slips past his lips—were they always that pretty?—is the most glorious thing you’ve ever heard. You know you’re supposed to hear the ocean if you find a conch shell and press it to your ear, but you wish you could hear his voice. 

He calls your name again and you shake your head, clearing the fog that plagues your mind. “What?” you blurt, eyes wide and glossy. Jungwon thinks you’re so pretty. 

“I want to kiss you,” he says, slow and steady but the twitch of his fingers reveal his excitement. “Is that okay?” 

You want to tell him a hundred things. You want to tell him how lucky you are to have nearly been destroyed by him that night, and if you knew then what you know now, you’re positive that you would’ve let him although you’re certain he would never hurt you. You want to tell him that you think he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen on planet Earth, and that it sucks that he’s not entirely the same species as you, and vice versa. You want to tell him that he’s your best friend, and that you truly, sincerely hope that you’re his. But all you manage to say, with severe effort, is: “Um, sure. Yeah.” 

Jungwon has kissed people. This much is true. It’s common amongst merfolk—to kiss—as they are sexual and romantic beings. He’s kissed dozens of beings, human and merfolk. He’s kissed to survive, just as he kisses to kill. However, he never knew that kissing could feel like this. 

He leans in slowly, feeling you practically melt against him the second his lips touch yours. The first thing he realizes is how soft you are, and the second is how good you taste. Your palm presses to his chest and his heart instantly warms. The kiss is short and soft, but once he pulls away, he falls right back into it. At this point, he doesn’t even notice if the ferris wheel is moving or if it has stopped, because he feels like he’s floating on top of the world. He can still taste the powdered sugar on your lips, and when he slips his hands around the base of your neck, your mouth opens and he can taste the remnants of lemonade on your tongue. 

You hum against his lips, gripping his shirt so fiercely in your trembling fingers you worry for a fraction of a second that you might rip a hole in it. But when Jungwon presses closer, a small sound, light and airy, slips from his mouth as he moves his lips against yours, and all worries you have are left for dead. 

One of Jungwon’s hands slips away from your jaw, an action you hardly notice as he nips your bottom lip as a distraction. He scoops your leg onto his lap, fingers brushing over the bare skin of your knee. If it weren’t for being on a damn ferris wheel, you’re certain Jungwon would have you straddling his lap by now. But you are on a ferris wheel, and you are in public. And if the bulge pressing against your leg and the ache between your thighs are to mean anything, they mean that you need to stop or else you might just end up letting him fuck you right here, twenty feet in the air. 

“Jungwon,” you murmur breathlessly against his lips. You move to backaway, but he just follows you, eyes closed and a blissful look blanketed across his face. You giggle and he giggles back, squeezing your thigh and sucking on your bottom lip. “Jungwon,” you repeat, a little more firmly this time. He lets you push him away, eyes trained on your lips as he licks his own. It’s official, he’s decided. He’s obsessed with your taste. “We’re in public.” 

He begrudgingly tears his eyes from your mouth, kiss-bitten and swollen, to look around. After reminding himself of where you two are, together, he nods slowly. Turning back to you, he moves to fix your hair, and despite it not staying in its respective place, he still looks at you like you hung the moon and stars. 

“I forgot,” is all he says, before he leans in one last time to kiss you. 

The ride home is filled with gentle touches and even fonder looks. Jungwon follows you into your house, just as he always does. He watches you as you brush your teeth, smiling around his own toothbrush as the foam from the toothpaste forms small bubbles on the corners of his mouth. He observes you as you do your skin care, sitting on the toilet lid as he plays with the hem of your pajama shorts. It doesn’t suggest anything other than him wanting to be close to you, and you’re not sure if you’re frustrated by the lack of underlying meaning or content with his patience. 

Jungwon snuggles next to you once you finally go to bed, nose pressed to your neck and murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. He kind of makes you hot and bothered when he speaks in a voice so low you’re certain you hear waves crash in his tone. 

“Good day?” you ask, still able to see his eyes shine in the light of the growing and glowing moon. 

He nods, brushing his lips over yours. “Very good day,” he says, sealing the deal with a kiss that makes your heart swell so large you fear it might break a rib. 

He’s warm against your side and real, and the rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. You dream of his touch, cradled in his arms, excited for tomorrow. 

When you wake the next morning, he’s gone. 

—

It’s been a week since you last saw Jungwon. 

When you woke up without his warmth, you were almost in denial. But after checking your living room, kitchen, bathrooms, and balcony about three times, you were certain it could be no mistake. He can’t drive, so there’s no way he could’ve gone far. But when you ran around town, checking all of the places he would’ve known and been drawn to, pajama shorts still on and hair half styled, you began to lose hope. He was not at your house, not at any stores, and not at the beach. And once a few hours have passed, you realize he’s gone. Jungwon is not coming back. 

You tried to be the slightest bit hopeful. Once the sun had set, you walked along the shoreline, calling his name. You prayed that no one would be around to hear your calls. If someone were to ask who you were looking for, you might think you could lie and say your dog, but Jungwon isn’t a suitable name for a dog. It’s only suitable for him. But after hours of searching, and sitting against the cool rock of your special jetty, do you finally relent to the cold, hard truth. 

Your friends chalk up your behavior as you missing your friend. They don’t get much information from you, only a quick comment of how he went home, but they can tell you’re upset. So after your third day of wallowing, they grow desperate to see you smile. 

It’s only after a series of shopping trips and movie nights do you start to feel better. When you’re alone, it’s easy to think of Jungwon and wonder why he left; with your friends, your mind stays busy. They make you laugh at stupid jokes and gasp at juicy gossip. Daniela fills you in on this new guy she’s started talking to, and you only have to push down your jealousy slightly before genuine joy for her bubbles over. 

By the end of the week, you’re beginning to see a future where you feel normal again. It’s not now, but it will be someday. Eventually, Jungwon will be a memory just like your kindergarten crush, and the thought of him won’t sting as much as it does presently. Besides, when you stop to think about it, it’s probably for the best. He’s literally from the ocean. He’s a completely different species, not entirely human. It’s not like you could’ve dated. Your dad wouldn’t have really liked him anyway.

By the time the weekend rolls around, Lara mentions that there’s been a rumor about another party at the beach floating about. The second you hear about it, you’re in. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten shitfaced with your friends, and without having to worry about waking up at the asscrack of dawn to see Jungwon, you’re more than willing to drink some cheap liquor and face the consequences the next day. 

Yunjin brings the alcohol and Lara brings the mixers, and eventually, you’re all pleasantly buzzed. Trodding down to the beach in your cute outfits and bikinis, you feel normal. There was a life before Jungwon, just as there will be a life after him. You will not let the absence of a man be what ruins your good time. Your P.J. (Post-Jungwon) life starts right now!

You mingle and flirt, and even let some random guy feel you up. And although his touch doesn’t feel as good as Jungwon’s, it’s good to know that you still got it. But the more and more that you try to convince yourself that you don’t miss him, you begin to realize that it isn’t true. You do miss him. A lot. It’s borderline humiliating. 

Maybe it’s the drinks and a couple of hits from some joint your friends passed around, or maybe it’s because you’re overstimulated from the sand that you can’t seem to brush off your legs, but you’re starting to feel like you’re going to cry. 

“I’m gonna go pee,” you slur to Daniela, who just nods before returning to talk to some girl you vaguely remember from high school. 

You stumble your way through the crowd, sure that you may have gotten the odd glance here or there but who cares? You’re beginning to feel dizzy, your legs feel heavy and your body feels tingly and suddenly you come to recognize just how drunk you are. Mission accomplished, but at what cost? 

“Shit,” you grumble, leaning against a rock for support as you catch your breath. You look up, hoping that focusing on the stars would help you sober up. 

Your body keeps drifting away from you, a baby rocked to sleep, but your mind stays still on Jungwon. Why did he leave? Did he get what he wanted? A kiss? That’s a stupid thing to want from someone. If he was going to be that selfish, he might as well have fucked you and then dipped. But a kiss and dip? No one in the history of the world has ever heard of something as lame as that. However, you’re beginning to believe that you’re patient zero. 

The stars spin, but once you spot the full moon, your body becomes yours again. It’s brighter than you’ve ever seen it, an iridescent light beaming across the water. The ripples in the waves illuminate your path in hughes of white, blue, and green; a perfect spotlight for your evening walk. You swore it would clear your mind and reestablish your footing, but still, you somehow always end up here: the jetty. 

Sitting down at your usual spot, you dip your toes into the water and swirl them around. Your feet drag through the water slowly, your scar catching the light briefly. The moon is pale and bright and big, and you wish Jungwon was here to see it with you. He is, but he’s not worried about the moon. 

Despite not being in the right state of mind, the hair on your arms pricks up, a danger sensed before your mind is even aware of it. Your skin tingles as it circles the water, hypnotized by the patterns it creates in the foam. You feel a pair of eyes. 

As you look up, you spot only a silhouette, but you know exactly who it belongs to. You always have and you always will. Although you’re certain you hear a song so beautiful that it makes you want to tear your skin off, suddenly your ears fill with wax and your emotions overtake the melody, creating a harsh dissonance. 

“You have some fucking nerve,” you spit, pulling your legs out of the water and crouching on your knees. He doesn’t move. “Kissing all up on me, touching me, sleeping in my house!” 

You can see him cock his head to the side, but with the way the moon is positioned in the sky, you can’t observe his face. Sincerely, you hope he’s hurt. Maybe not crying—you’re a little afraid you might fold if he is—but hurt. 

“I should slap the shit out of you for leaving like that,” you spit, clawing at the rock beneath you like a life line. 

Jungwon straightens at that and abruptly sinks under the water. For a second, it startles you. Maybe you scared him off? A part of you wishes that that is the case—that way you have the last laugh. But deep down, you know a slap from you would hurt him more emotionally than physically. He wouldn’t fear your hand. And at this moment, you’re not sure which you prefer. After you begin to doubt that you scared him, and move on to your next theory—shark bite—Jungwon emerges from the pitch black sea. 

Sometimes you forget that he’s not entirely human, but in this moment, he makes sure to remind you. Jungwon leaps from the water, propelling all of his body weight onto his arms and hands which suspends his body halfway out of the water and onto the jetty. You shriek, falling flat on your butt as he stares at you, only a few inches from your face. 

You take a good look at him, and for a second, you’re not sure you’re talking to Jungwon. His eyes are wild, not the bright-eyed wideness that you know. Instead they’re slender, frantic, and threatening. His mouth hangs open, and you spot the edge of a fang indenting his lower lip, his tongue quickly smoothing over the skin. Despite the water being cool, you feel the fever radiating off of him and his cheeks flush a brilliant shade of pink. You take a deep breath in, studying his face. Before you can begin to check out his body—a habit you’re not all too proud of not being able to shake—he lowers himself back into the water.

He doesn’t submerge, and he doesn’t talk either. His lips stay wired shut, rose-red mouth relaxed but stern. His hands stay on the rock, bracketing your legs that makes you weary of moving too quickly. His fingers look as if they’re straining against something, but you’re not sure what. Do you want to find out?

After more than thirty seconds of just staring at each other, you realize he’s not going to speak. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you wonder, no longer feeling threatened by him. “Why are you getting all up in my face like I was the one who left? You’re the one who kissed and ditched, remember?”

It sounds even more pathetic saying it out loud. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jungwon says, eyes transfixed on your face. For a moment, you see him melt. His eyes become wide again, but still hungry for something. His brow furrows, and he shakes his head, huffing a sigh through his nose like an animal clearing its senses of a particular scent. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Did you not hear what I just said?” 

His eyes trail down your body, and you don’t miss the way his fingers twitch. You see his nails dig into the rock desperately, and you’re beginning to grow concerned. A look of discomfort crosses his face, and he shakes his head once more, water spraying against your calves. Sitting up and extending your legs back into the water, you notice how he learns forward subconsciously, seeking your touch. What the fuck is going on? 

“Jungwon, are you okay?” you ask, reaching for him. You reach out to touch his hand, and before you can even register the heat of his palm, Jungwon keens forward, an airy sound escaping his mouth unwillingly. His forehead rests against your knees, and his breath is warm against your legs as you begin to second guess everything you thought you knew. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeats, chest heaving. In a panic, you begin to look for injuries. You can’t begin to fathom what would make him act like this. He’s usually calm, the eye of the storm in any and all cases. He plays with your hair when you’re rambling and rubs your back when you’re upset, and now you're the one doing it all for him. 

You’re so confused, and as wracking breaths continue to knock against his ribs, fingers damn near creating claw marks in the rock, you’re desperate for answers. “Why wouldn’t I be here, Jungwon? It’s a beach.” 

“The moon,” is all he says as he looks up at you. His eyes are nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’s like they melt the second he looks at you, eyebrows furrowed and irises so dark you believe that if you were to sink in them, you’d never find the bottom. You look up to the sky, moon brilliant and bright. 

“I don’t get it,” you confess, laying a hand on his cheek. Should you be worried? He’s burning up. Do you offer to get him some medicine? An ambulance? A veterinarian? 

Just as you begin to search for your own solutions, Jungwon—without much ability to control himself—proposes his own. With the palm on his cheek being his final straw, he presses his face against your leg once again, harsher than before. You feel his nose indent your thigh, and before you can begin to register the sudden change in proximity, Jungwon licks your leg and moans. 

Your body responds before your mind, and if you were standing, you’re certain your knees would buckle. You clench around nothing, a rush of wetness pooling in your bikini bottoms. Without meaning to, you rock your hips gently against the rock. It doesn’t provide any comfort for the sudden ache, but Jungwon has you acting in irrational ways. 

And once your mind is able to catch up with your body, the words that fly out of your mouth aren’t much more rational than your bodily response to his tongue. “Yooo, what are you doing?” you hiss, no real threat posed behind your voice. 

“You smell so good,” he whines, kissing up your thigh. His arms hook under your thighs, dragging you closer and closer towards the edge. The water is up to your knees now as you cradle Jungwon’s head to your thigh. He nips and licks and kisses, and all you can do is watch. You feel his biceps flex under your legs, and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, desperate to keep you attached to his mouth. 

You're not entirely sure of what is going on or what’s come over him, but you do know that you’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your whole life. His fangs graze your upper thigh, sharp and menacing. Before you can begin to complain about the sting, and, without a doubt, the blood that bubbles in its wake, Jungwon licks over the wound like his spit is some sort of salve. The sting is immediately gone, and replaced with a tingle that leaves you wanting more. He creeps higher and higher, breathing heavily. Your thighs are slick with spit, bruised by kisses. You tug at Jungwon’s hair, the wet strands wrapping around your fingers to keep you tethered to him. Jungwon moans again, shoving his nose into your crotch and inhaling deeply. 

You burn furiously, embarrassed that he’s smelling you but also incredibly turned on by the fact that he seems to like it. A hand leaves your thigh and inches upward, lithe fingers tucking into the waistband as he attempts to yank your shorts down hungrily. 

“The button,” you instruct breathlessly, your hands meeting as you both frantically go to undo the button of your shorts. Once you manage to pop it open for him, he rips them down your legs, soaking them with sea water accidentally before throwing them next to you haphazardly. His mouth is back on you instantly, and you urge him towards your core, fingers tracing his jawline. “Jungwon…” you whisper, yearning to kiss him but aching at the thought of his attention being redirected. 

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs around your skin, sucking another blossom into your thigh. You will be tender to the touch come tomorrow. “I can’t help it.” 

“It’s okay,” you soothe, and he looks up at you, mouth spit-slicked and raw. “I want you too.” 

You don’t have to tell him twice. 

Jungwon dives back in, licking the flimsy material of your bikini bottoms. You can feel his tongue press against your clit through the fabric, and both of you moan. He sucks the material into his mouth, searching for your taste before he can indulge in you fully. He knows he should stop, he’s not in the right mind. But with the way he’s aching for you, a desire so fierce he can feel it burn him from the inside out, he’s not sure if he can will himself to stop. When he glances up and sees the look you’re giving him, eyes glowing and jaw dropped in amazed pleasure, he’s certain that he won’t stop. 

Snatching the fabric between his teeth, Jungwon pulls your bottoms down your legs, tossing it alongside your shorts. He looks at you briefly, slick and glistening under the pale moonlight. Prior to this moment, Jungwon was certain he'd seen plenty of beautiful things. However, he is now positive that this view is the prettiest of them all. 

He leans in voraciously, kissing the skin above your pretty cunt, the short hair tickling his lips and chin. Jungwon isn’t used to it, as you’re his first human girl and—if he has it his way—his last. But he likes it a lot more than he assumes is probably normal. He kisses you there one more time, feeling the muscles of your thighs twitch and tense. 

“Please, Jungwon,” you whimper, hips leaning forward in search of his mouth. “I need you.” 

Who is he to deny you? 

Jungwon licks your folds tentatively, gauging how sensitive you are. A small sigh releases from your chest, a hum so gentle he does his best to replicate it through his tongue. You grow more restless the more he does this, searching for something more. It feels good. Really good. Using his hands to push your thighs further apart, Jungwon's tail thrashes wildly in the water at how pliant you are under his guidance. 

“You taste so good,” he says, sucking your clit into his mouth greedily. You moan loudly, leaning backwards as your hips move forward. Jungwon looks up, watching as you prop yourself on one elbow, your other hand still stuck in his hair. You’re breathless, a warm ache slowly building within your core. “You like that?” 

You nod fervently, biting your lip. As if it’s a challenge, Jungwon begins to suck and lick more harshly than he did before, pulling more and more sounds out of you. A hand of his creeps upward, shoving its way under the cup of your bikini top. He pinches a nipple, a high pitched whine releasing from your mouth. His tongue travels lower, prodding at your hole curiously. You clench around him and he groans, pressing his tongue into you as far as he can. You grind forward, clit bumping his nose and he inhales deeply. In his professional opinion, you taste better than any candy he’s ever had. 

You twitch around his tongue, continuing to grind along his face. He squeezes your tit harshly, earning a gasp from you that makes him chuckle thickly, slick coating his mouth. You giggle too, delirious on the ecstasy Jungwon provides you. But your giggles quickly turn into endless moans as he sucks your clit back into his mouth, tongue swirling around the swollen bud. 

Growing dizzier by the second, and this time, you’re certain it’s not because of the alcohol, you become more and more desperate for a release. Jungwon is moaning against you, convinced that your cunt is the best thing to have ever graced this Earth. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whines, kitten-licking your clit before sucking it harshly once more. “I want to keep you all to myself.” 

“I’m all yours,” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You can feel your slick and his spit pooling on the rock beneath you and spreading along your thighs. A heat brighter that the sun builds within you, yearning for more. 

He groans deeply, his teeth grazing against your clit in a way that makes you flinch. “Don’t say that,” he pants, dragging his tongue along every inch of you that he can find. “Don’t want to hurt you,” he whimpers. 

“Please,” you beg, finding his eyes in the moonlight. His eyes still replicate every bit of the beast that he is, his grip bruising. You clench around his tongue and he laps it up, feeding him in a way that you could never fully understand. The desire he feels is much deeper than what you’re capable of experiencing, and he knows that. But you’d be damned if you weren’t willing to try. “Please make me yours.” 

Jungwon releases an inhumane sound, a cross between a purr and a moan, something that vibrates from his chest and releases from his mouth without control. He grips your thigh, eyeing you quickly. It’s faint, but you catch the slight downturn of his lips and the furrow in his brow, as if he’s saying sorry. However, before you can question him, he bares his fangs and bites down on your thigh, piercing the skin. 

You yelp in pain, tugging at his hair but he doesn’t budge. He just groans against your skin, the pinch in your leg growing more and more aggressive the deeper his teeth sink into your flesh. But as quickly as the pain comes, a sudden overbearing warmth washes over you. You tilt your head back, grip on his hair weakening. Jungwon grabs your hand and rests it against his face, lapping at the blood that drips from you and sealing the wound. He looks at the new mark he’s created—a mark that confirms and reassures that you are his, and that he is yours. 

The ecstasy you’re experiencing from his love bite must be potent, because you’re practically leaking all over yourself. He coos as your cunt clenches around nothing, a new wave of your scent, even more syrupy, fills his nose. He watches you, your body arching into the open air for something, anything that could provide you with relief. Awe is an understatement. 

Reminding yourself that he is there, you snap your head up and open your eyes. You rub his cheek, watching him nestle into your palm. Maintaining eye contact, Jungwon lowers near where he expects you to want him, lips grazing your folds without any real pressure. You buck and squirm, but just before you find relief, he pulls away, suddenly every bit the tease and no longer the desperate, lust-crazed creature. 

Well, it’s not like you’re above begging. “Fuck me,” you groan, your voice not sounding like your own to your ears. Jungwon melts all the same. 

Sticking out his tongue, he licks from your taint to your clit, a relief that has you whining at a pitch you’re sure has never been reached. Practically making out with your cunt, Jungwon sucks your labia into his mouth, his own moans vibrating within you from the inside out. The bridge of his nose glides against your folds once again, rubbing against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.You’re growing desperate, your hips unable to stay still as you rock and pull against him like a restless tide. 

You’re hot, sweating despite the coolness of the water. Whatever that bite did to you—whether it poisoned or drugged you—you’re not sure. What you do know is that Jungwon is licking your clit just the way you need him to and you don’t think you’ve been so eager to cum in your whole life. 

Your cunt pulses feverishly, yearning to suck anything he’ll give you further and further in. You want to watch him, and you try your best to, but when the pressure on your clit is just right, it’s hard to keep your eyes open and your head upright. 

He can not only feel you getting closer, but he can taste you getting there as well. Your stomach contracts, the clench around his tongue getting stronger by the second. Your thighs shake, and the heat within you is so intense you feel like you could burst into a supernova. The sounds you are releasing are sounds that a pornstar could only dream of making, and Jungwon doesn’t even have it in him to wonder if this is how all human girls sound because he too enamoured with how his girl sounds. His girl. Shit, he might cum. 

“I wanna cum,” you announced, vision blurred with tears. 

He moans, loud and clear. “Please,” he begs, watching your back arch in the moonlight. “I want to feel it, pretty. Please.” 

He continues to suck and kiss and lick in all the ways you’ve wished a man would without you having to ask. He categorizes every twitch, tunes into every moan, and memorizes every plea. If he’s serious about keeping you, you might have to take him up on his offer. 

Once the heat in your body becomes too much, and your back arches against the uncomfortableness against the rock, the band within your lower body snaps. Your orgasm washes over you like the sudden tide, unrelenting and powerful. Jungwon moans with you, licking every surface of you that he can reach as you buck and squirm against his face. Growing sensitive, you lightly pull his head away from your cunt, his mouth and chin glistening with your release. 

He looks at you, his eyes still hungry but in a way that reminds you of your normal Jungwon. Jungwon smiles softly, the soft pearls of his teeth beaming up at you as if he didn’t just give you the orgasm of a lifetime. You climb into the water, Jungwon grabbing your hips and steadying you the second he sees you waver. 

He lets you loop your arms around his neck as he continues smiling, completely in awe of all that you are. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, eyes unable to decide if they want to focus on your lips or your eyes. He tucks a hair behind your ear, the one that never stays, and you’re ashamed to admit it really turns you on. 

“So you’ve said,” you tease breathlessly, wiping some of your slick off his chin before you lean in to kiss him. 

Jungwon grips your hips, one hand wandering downwards to your ass. You reach behind you, encouraging him to squeeze, a pretty little moan slipping past his lips and down your throat once he does. You can still feel the feverish warmth emanating from his body, even in the water. Whatever fog was plaguing him seems to have broken just a bit, his eyes and face resembling the man you know and love. However, you can feel his lust press against your stomach, hard and thick. It’s definitely bigger than anything human, but you’re determined to make it work. 

You kiss down his jaw, his sighs and moans filling your ear as he cradles you against him. You grind forward, the head of his cock catching on your clit. You’re still sensitive, but you know it will pass. Jungwon groans loudly, pressing you against the jetty. His arm braces beside your head, bicep deliciously flexed. You’re not sure what comes over you, but you lean towards the muscle and bite it, licking over the indent of your teeth just as he did before. He watches you in awe, bucking against your heat once again. 

You moan softly tracing his cupid's bow before you stick a finger in his mouth. You trace his teeth, mesmerized by their subtle sharpness. You would’ve never expected how threatening they truly were until they were pressed against you. He sucks on the pad of your finger, eyes slipping shut briefly as he soaks in the bliss. Jungwon examines your face as he grinds against you again, regretting that he couldn’t see you before as well as he can now. He’ll just have to make you cum again. 

He’s endeared by the furrow of your brow, and the twitch of the corner of your lip. He grabs your wrist, pulling your finger from his mouth just so he can kiss you. He licks into your open mouth, doing his best to shield his fangs from your curious tongue. However, when you grind against him a little too hard, he bites down, nicking the side of your tongue. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, pulling away. You pull him right back, not bothered by the sting. 

“Just kiss me,” you beg, palms cradling his cheeks. His saliva mixes with yours, thick and warm, and it’s as if he never hurt you. Not that he ever could. 

You rock forward once more, the head of his cock slipping lower and pressing against your hole. He can feel you clench slightly, and he’s filled with panic. He’s definitely too big for you, and both of you know it. Obviously, you wouldn’t mind trying but he’s not going to be the reason you get seriously hurt just because he couldn’t control himself. 

He pulls away, stilling your hips with a palm pressed against your womb. “We… we shouldn’t. It’ll hurt,” he says, unable to tear his gaze away from your pretty mouth. He’s really going to have to work on controlling himself if he wants to be around you longer. 

“It’s okay. I want to try,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his. 

He stops you once again, using all of his strength to contain his hunger. “No,” he huffs, eyes dropping to your chest and you can’t help but notice the way he twitches against your clit. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I’m really fucking turned on right now and I don’t know if I can control myself-” 

“Where did you learn that word?” you gasp, an evil grin spreading across your face like butter. 

He cocks his head to the side, every bit your sweet Jungwon. “What word?” 

“Turned on.” 

“I heard it in a movie,” he explains, completely caught off guard while your hand trails down and pinches at his nipple. His hand flies forward, capturing your hand against his chest. You just look at him, eyes sugar sweet and a smile even more sickening. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

His decision sounds definitive, and as much as you’re willing to try, you won’t push it. He nearly flops forward, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he huffs. Smoothing your hand down and up his back, you can feel his heart rate and temperature drop back down to a normal pace. He’s still rock hard, as he’s certain he will be for the rest of the night. 

“We could try other things…?” you suggest, gaze imploring. 

A confused look crosses his face, understanding replacing it as he notices your nails trace down his chest, lower and lower. You grab the base of him, thick and heavy in your palm. An airy sigh floats from his mouth, nosing along the column of your throat as if he’s suddenly grown shy. 

It’s still too dark to be able to see him in all his glory, but your sense of touch provides you with enough information to know that he’s huge. He’s shaped just like the regular human male, but much larger and heavier. The idea makes you salivate, thirsting for the day he finally lets you indulge in your silly fantasies. A series of ridges line the underside of his cock, and he seems to whimper whenever you add extra pressure to the area. 

“Just want you to feel good too,” you say, pumping slowly. 

The water ripples above your movement, moonlight bouncing off of every wave and swell. Jungwon kisses along your neck once again, sucking bruises into the skin that you sure will be tender to the touch come tomorrow morning. Though, the funny thing is, you never cared. 

“I’m already feeling good,” he moans, bucking into your hand. “You feeling good makes me feel good.” 

“Aww,” you coo. “You’re so cute.” 

You feel him heat against you, nuzzling closer if even possible. “Shut up,” he whimpers. 

You laugh, placing a kiss along his hairline. Your pace increases, groans and whimpers growing in intensity. Teasing his slit, Jungwon grows harder by the second. A series of clicks and whistles, a similar tune and rhythm to the foreign words he spoke to you weeks ago, are spoken into your neck. 

“Are you finally gonna tell me what that means?” you whisper, clenching around nothing when he licks the shell of your ear. 

“Means you’re mine,” he pants, pulling away from his hiding spot in the crook of your neck. “Forever.” 

Oh, you’re sooo going to make him cum harder than he ever has. 

Luckily for you, it doesn’t take much effort. With a few more flicks of your wrist, Jungwon twitches and finishes across your stomach, the ocean waves washing it away before you can scoop it into your mouth and show him how disgusting you can truly be. 

He kisses you deeply, tongue tasting the bitterness of the alcohol and sweetness of the juice you drank what feels like forever ago. You let him ride out his high, hand coming to a still once you’re certain you’ve milked him of all he has. 

Once he’s certain he can look into your eyes without being possessed by some lust-crazed animal for the second time that night, he pulls away from you, mesmerized by the shine of your eyes. Stealing the breath from his lungs, you giggle in such a lovesick way even Cupid would puke. You brush his hair away from his forehead, and he smiles softly. 

And under the starlit night, the waves rocking the two of you gently, he kisses you so gently that you hear the moon sing. 

—

When you wake up the next morning, you’re not entirely sure you can move. Your thighs are sore, your joints ache, and, worst of all, your heart misses Jungwon. The ceiling keeps you entertained for about twenty minutes, before your need to pee overweighs your desire to stay in bed, rotting. You contemplate crawling around on the floor for the rest of the day, but somehow, the thought of that sounds even worse than walking. 

After a scalding hot shower and a thorough examination of the hickeys and bruises left on your body, you feel clean and refreshed, despite still longing for Jungwon. If you could move any faster, you’d be down at the beach right now, looking for him. Hopefully, he misses you just as much too. 

However, despite the hours you spent with Jungwon last night, even as he guided you back to shore and kissed you goodbye, he never mentioned why he left. And as you brush your teeth and style your hair, you can’t help but let your mind run wild. Was it because of his attraction to you? You’ve never seen him behave like that, even during the brief moments, before your interaction last night, where you were aware of his arousal. He was always calm, despite proudly displaying his affection towards you. But last night was different. 

Lust nearly consumed him, and although you're certain he would never seriously hurt you, the ache in your muscles establishes a firm reminder for just how strong he actually is. You vividly remember how his fangs gleamed under the moonlight, and just how sharp they were to the touch. And although you can practically feel them scraping against you now, no evidence of their touch remains. The only residual mark on your body, besides the numerous hickeys and bruises, is the mark of his bite. 

It’s not sore like you’d expect a bite to be, although you do feel tender whenever you trace its pattern. Every time you touch it, or so much as graze it, it’s like the memories of last night resurface ten times more explicitly than before. It sets a fire within you, a furnace that burns to a more subtle degree, but glows nonetheless. The more you ignore it, the brighter it glows. 

But before you address it, you need answers. And you need them from him. 

Just as you peel yourself off your couch—slowly, of course—to go change and march down to the beach, a soft knock is heard from your front door. It’s still midmorning, and aware that all of your friends are late risers, you’re not expecting any of them to drop by unannounced. 

Shuffling to the door, ignoring the ongoing pain in your hips, you pull the door open. And there, bathed in sunlight, stands Jungwon in the same pair of pajamas that you last saw him wear, albeit, much sandier. He’s beaming at you, every bit a ray of light that heals all the aches in your body and replaces it with a different kind of ache. What was it you said about needing answers? Yeah. Those could wait. 

“Hi,” he says softly, smiling like he didn’t have you seeing the creation of the universe last night. 

“Get in here,” you mutter, yanking him by his shirt. You kick the door shut behind him, pressing him against the wood surface. His eyes widen but his grin stays, hands instinctively falling to your hips. 

“Did you miss me?” he asks, eyes melting you into a syrupy mess. 

“No.” 

Lies. 

As you fiddle with the neckline of his shirt, he observes as your gaze slowly glides down to his lips, sighing the minute he sticks his tongue out to wet them. “You sure?” he questions, leaning in closer. You can’t help but mimic his action. “Because I missed you.” 

You groan, taking the tiniest step forward. Your nose bumps his, and he nuzzles against it affectionately as if you’re not soaking wet right now. If you weren’t so entranced by his mouth, you would try to take a peak downward at his dick. Is he hard? He better be. 

“Fine. I missed you,” you admit. 

Jungwon’s lips pucker subconsciously the minute he feels your lower lip graze against his. The grip he has on your waist tightens, his grip still strong but not nearly as demanding as last night. Whatever came over him last night surely isn’t taunting him anymore, but something else certainly is. 

The Jungwon standing in front of you now is your Jungwon. Not the Jungwon who belongs to the sea or is controlled by the moon or influenced by the tides. This Jungwon belongs to you and only you. 

“Can I show you how much I missed you?” you ask, slipping a hand around his neck and tickling the little strands of hair at the base of his skull. 

He inhales shakily, nodding without much of a spoken word despite saying so much through his eyes. He practically falls forward onto your lips, catching you by surprise. You steady him with a hand on his chest, but allow yourself to stumble backward. Afterall, that’s where you were planning on heading anyway. 

The kiss is much more gentle than the ones you’ve shared, despite the ferocity in which he initiated it. It’s not like you mind. You’ve never been one to complain about a man who yearns and lets it be known. 

You guide him to your couch, the layout of your living room memorized like the back of your hand. Jungwon still manages to bump into your coffee table, hissing in pain against your lips but quickly laughs it off when he sees how flustered you’ve become. Besides, he has much more important things to do than worry about his potentially bruised calf. 

With a hand on his chest, Jungwon allows you to push him back onto your sofa, sitting down on the cushions he has spent plenty of time with, especially with you by his side. But this time, instead of watching a movie or talking aimlessly into the night, he has you sprawled across his lap, thighs caging his hips.

He’s amused by your impatience, letting you tug his pajama shirt over his head, indifferent to the sand that might have been dusted off of it. Slack jawed, you trace his pecks, fingers tracing along his nipples. It’s amazing being able to see him like this in the early morning light, his body not shielded from your view by water or your own shyness. No, now you’re eager. 

Jungwon arches into your hand when you pinch his nipple, a soft whine slipping from his pink lips. Grabbing the back of his neck, you guide him towards you, licking into his mouth. Your tongues tangle together, sucking and kissing any inch of flesh you both can find. He massages your ass, much gentler and more timid than he was last night. A little nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you to take things slow, but between last night and the questions you still have left unanswered, any caution about tempo is thrown out the window. 

“I want to touch you,” you state, pushing away from him abruptly. Jungwon shakes his head, trying his best to clear the fog clouding his brain. You said it so matter of factly, like you were reporting the weather, that he’s unsure if he heard you correctly the first time. It isn’t until you start tugging his pajama pants down his thighs, the weight of his hips preventing you from tugging them very far, that he realizes there is no problem with his comprehension of the human language. “I want to touch you,” you repeat, pressing quick kisses to his jaw to bring his attention back to you. 

Jungwon nods eagerly, lifting his hips and covering your hands with his own as he helps you pull his pants down his defined thighs. Typically, you’re not one to send heart eyes to someone’s dick, but you nearly swoon at the sight. 

His tip is flushed red, hard and heavy from only a little kissing and shoving each other around. Jungwon breathes heavily, eyes darting between you and his cock in anticipation. He’s never used it before—the human form, that is—not unless you would count when he got curious one night after waking up to an uncomfortable tightness and experimenting in the bathroom. Other than that brief moment, he doesn’t quite know what to expect. He knows his human form is more sensitive, more receptive to your touch and not as durable as his true form. Just from you looking at him, gaze hungry, has him twitching and leaking against his stomach. 

Finally gaining control of yourself, licking over your lips, you look at Jungwon. His chest rises and falls, small puffs of air drifting from his lips. The swell of his cheeks heat pink under your scrutiny, eyes unwavering when usually you like to play coy. But now you just look at him, eyes dripping honey and pulling him in so deep he thinks he might drown, of all people. 

You lean forward and kiss him, simple and sweet, but as he chases after you, you wrap your hand around his cock, sliding upward and squeezing around the head. His mouth falls slack against your own, his breath hitting your lips as he struggles to regain his composure. He’s not too sure he wants to find it anyways. 

You tug his length, fascinated by the extra inch he grows despite thinking he was already at full capacity. He’s heavy in your hand, spitting into your palm to aid the glide of his cock. Tossing his head back and closing his eyes, Jungwon nearly sinks into your couch, jaw still slack and hands now laying limp around your waist. It must feel good, because the way his hips twitch, trying their best to stay patient and exhibit some restraint, has you clenching around nothing. 

“Feel good?” you ask, kissing his relaxed lips. 

“Uh huh,” he moans, nodding slightly as he tries to kiss you back belatedly. He does better the second time around, hands now gripping your shirt with a fervor that has memories of last night surging to the forefront of your mind yet again. 

Thank god for having sex with Jungwon again—hopefully the sexual flashbacks will be less intense, although you doubt it. 

Tracing his slit, a breathy whine escapes his mouth only to be swallowed up by your tongue. He’s leaking all over your fingers, the pearlescent substance coating you in a sticky sheen. Finally able to crack his eyes open, Jungwon quickly falls in love with how concerned with his pleasure you’ve become, focus bouncing between his dick and his face. 

His breath hitches as he catches sight of your fingers covered in his precum, and you don’t miss the way his abs clench underneath the palm you splay across his stomach. Bucking upwards, less restrained than the past few times, you indulge him by matching his pace. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he whimpers, licking your neck and feeling your pulse jump under his tongue. You rake your fingers through his hair, tugging him back to where you can see him. He relents, brow pinching slightly at the pain but melting the minute you begin to scratch lightly at his scalp. If your hand wasn’t working him to completion, he thinks he could fall asleep with your hand in his hair. However, a particularly harsh tug of his cock has him seeing stars, lids growing heavy once more. 

You release him for a second, watching his manhood slap against his stomach with a satisfied hum. The slight wince from him doesn’t deter you, fascinated by his sensitivity and lack of filter as you bring your slick-covered hand up to your mouth, licking his pre off your fingers before grabbing him once more. 

Jungwon groans, suddenly consumed by his own attraction towards you. What the hell has he been doing this whole time? Letting you touch all up on him, not bothering to do the same to you?! Ashamed doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“Off,” he mumbles, not even bothering to wait for your cooperation as he yanks your top over your head. The newly disheveled state of your hair would typically make Jungwon chuckle, but his preoccupied state only has him carelessly tossing your shirt aside and pulling you closer. “My pretty girl,” he murmurs, breath fanning across your nipples as he plants soft kisses along your breasts. 

Sucking a nipple into his mouth, your pace on his cock slows as he rolls the nub between his teeth. Although you’re certain he doesn’t mean to distract you, the tingly sensation that the suction around your tit provides has you nearly forgetting about his length all together. 

“Mmph- Wonie,” you moan quietly, nails scraping along his scalp. He hums around your breast, using his other hand to fondle and pinch at your previously unstimulated nipple. “Feels so good.” 

“Yeah?” he huffs, a soft pop sounding from his lips. “Love seeing you like this. My pretty, pretty girl.” 

Diving back into your tits, where he feels safe and sound—as well as incredibly aroused—you resume your mission of pleasing him by your hand. Jungwon’s jaw drops slowly, recognizing the warmth and pressure that begins to build in him once more. His teeth graze the underside of your boob, creating small indents as he loses sense of control and begins to suck your skin into his mouth, bruises and hickeys left in their wake. 

He redirects his hand away from your tit, trailing it down over the plane of your stomach, pinching the skin in fascination. However, that only makes you squeeze his dick tighter, a shocked moan spilling from his lips as he attempts to regain his composure. 

Jungwon has learned a lot of things about himself because of you. For example, he’s learned that he enjoys sweets more than savory foods, he enjoys busy days just as much as he likes lazy ones, and that he doesn’t like to be pleased if you are not also experiencing some sort of pleasure. And when his fingers trail just low enough to graze your pussy over your panties, dripping with your own arousal, he can acknowledge that his touch on your skin is plenty to satisfy you in some ways. 

But he remembers how wet you got for him last night. He’s certain he can do better than he’s doing now. 

He traces your hole over the fabric of your panties, the tip of his middle finger just about nearly breaching the tight ring of muscle before he pulls back, only to do it again. And again. And again. 

You whine, tugging him by his dark locks so you can kiss him. In a clash of teeth and tongues, he decides to provide you some relief as he slips his fingers underneath the soaked fabric and sinks into your aching hole, the squelch of your slick damn near pornographic. You moan as he licks hungrily into your mouth, desperate to be as close to you as possible. 

The heel of his palm presses deliciously against your clit, causing your hips to squirm. The grip you have on him makes Jungwon see stars, a sheet of white flashing beneath his eye lids every time he closes his eyes. 

“Fuck,” he groans lowly after a particularly harsh tug of your hand. He feels you clench around him at the sound, adding another finger. “You make me feel so good.” 

“God, Jungwon,” you whine, unsure if you want to focus all of your attention on his cock or his fingers inside of you. 

You’re not certain if you’re so worked up because of the sounds he’s making or the memory of last night taunting you before he arrived at your front door or just because he’s that damn good at pleasing you. Either way, you can feel the thread within you growing thinner, the band tighter and you can tell he feels it too. 

“So wet,” he whispers in awe, pulling away from your lips to glance down at your eager pussy. You’re practically sucking him in. 

“Yeah? You like that?” a newfound confidence washing over you. You swivel your palm across the head of his cock, teasing his frenulum with your thumb. “Seems like you like this too,” you tease, observing the way he bucks up into your hand. 

“Yeah. Oh- fuuuuck,” he moans, a groan of your name following soon after. He tries his best to curl his fingers inwards, searching for that spot that makes you see supernovas. Just as you clench tightly around his fingers, that furrow between your brows forming, he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. 

You grow more frantic in your movements, rapidly pumping your hand against his spit and pre-covered length. Jungwon twitches against your palm, his vision growing blurry as he continues to assault that sensitive spot in you. He can feel you getting there much quicker than last night, but it’s not like he minds. He’s not going to be able to hold off much longer. 

“Want you to cum,” you whimper, eyes tearing with desperation. “Wonie, please cum for me. I want it so bad.” 

He groans, scissoring his fingers open inside of you that has your vision blurring both from tears and with pleasure. You can feel yourself teetering over that edge, the deepest part of you burning for release. With a roll of your hips and the friction of his palm against your clit, your walls spasm around his fingers, the clench providing much for Jungwon’s imagination. He ruts upwards, your hand still held tight around the head of his cock as he twitches against your fingers, cum leaking down his shaft and across your stomach. 

As he opens eyes, mesmerized by the sudden relief that washes over your features, he pulls you into him, flopping sideways so the two of you can rest and catch your breath. 

As the rise and fall of his chest slows, and your walls stop pulsing intermittently, you are able to remember what you wanted to discuss with Jungwon in the first place. Although you’re not necessarily upset by his ability to redirect your focus, you are always a woman with a goal that will get accomplished, distractions or not. 

Sitting up slightly, you brace a hand on his chest, the faint beat of his heart knocking against your palm. He watches you, eyes warm and sleepy. A contented grin spreads across his face, warm as melting butter, but it quickly drops when he sees the frown deepening at the corner of your mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, worried. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I’m still new to this. I’ve never been with-” 

“No, no. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me, I’m fine,” you reassure, placating the crease between his brow. 

He follows your guidance, refocusing his concern on the problem that seems to be occupying your brain. “What’s wrong then?” 

“Why’d you leave?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush. “I thought you liked what we had going on. Why did you leave?” 

Now it’s his turn to frown, a small pout confirming his confusion. “I didn’t leave. I was going to come back.” 

Bro. Looks like men are stupid no matter the species. 

“I woke up and you were gone, Jungwon. You didn’t tell me where you were going, you didn’t leave anything for me to assume that you would return,” you list, cheeks burning hot under his gaze. “I didn’t take you for that kind of guy, but it’s hard to not assume the worst when you literally dipped with no explanation. I was worried.” 

He sits up fully, slipping a hand around your waist as you follow suit. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, eyes sincere. “I didn’t know it would scare you, it’s sort of hard to explain.” 

“I don’t care, explain it.” you urge patience wearing thin although you don’t mean for it to. “And you were weird as fuck last night too.” 

“You thought I was weird?” he asks, growing defensive. “You were literally wet.” 

“Two things can be true at once,” you say, growing shy. Usually you’re the one who can stump him with your words, but the better he gets at your tongue, the better he gets at leaving you rendered speechless. “I did think you were hot, but it wasn’t… I don’t know… you’ve never been that way before. I was a little surprised.” 

You both stare each other down, fairly aware of your back pedaling but willing to accept it for the sake of having this conversation. He adjusts your legs, throwing one over his lap, partially because he wants you closer and also because seeing your pussy still shiny from your release is making it hard for him to pay attention to the subject at hand. It only helps slightly, a full view of your cunt now hindered by your thigh. 

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” he explains, choosing his words slowly and carefully. “I missed the water so I went for a swim. I was going to just be gone for a few minutes, maybe find some shells for you ‘cause I know you like them. But then I realized the state of the moon, and what it does… I just thought it would be safer if I stayed away.” 

You shake your head, not quite following. “I don’t get it,” you announce, a petulant lilt in your voice that makes him laugh. 

“The moon sometimes messes with my head and makes me… you know…” he trails off, avoiding eye contact. The blush that blooms on the tip of his ears is cute. “But I’m okay now. Sometimes it has no effect, sometimes it does. I could feel it coming on though, and it can be difficult to control so I decided to stay away until it passed.” 

You nod, digesting all this new information. You faintly recall a story you heard ages ago of how merfolk are closely guided by the moon, and although they may not be as influenced as Jungwon suggests, part of it still rings true. He’s avoiding your eyes, fascinated by the small red light on your cable box. It’s hard to believe that there will be a day where he’s not amazed by your television. 

Desperate to regain his attention, you pinch his sides. When that fails, his blush glowing a deeper shade of crimson, you decide on something that will certainly get him worked up. 

“Is that the only reason you wanted to touch me like that? Because of the moon?” 

He whips his head around so fast you’re scared he broke his neck. Jungwon almost looks mad, scandaled that you would even dare to ask such a question.

“No!” he nearly shouts, grip tightening around your waist. You watch the way your flesh pillows under his fingers, a vein running down the front of his hand and down to his slender fingers. “I-I’ve always wanted to do that with you. The second I met you I wanted to, but-” 

“The second you met me? Really?” you smile, drawing a faint pattern on his pec that has goosebumps raising along his skin. 

“Yeah,” he nods, voice weakened by your touch. “I’ve always wanted you.” 

“Hmm,” you hum, tossing your leg across his hip to straddle him once more. “How did you want me?” 

“I-” 

“Did you want to taste me the way you did last night? Or just stick your fingers in me?” 

Jungwon’s blush creeps from his ears, across his face, and down his neck, a bright shade of rose painting his tanned skin. You giggle sweetly, pressing a kiss to his cheek that he accepts gratefully. You grind down on his hardening length, still sticky from his release. 

A moan floats from Jungwon’s mouth, a welcomed sound. “I wanted to do all those things,” he agrees, rutting up against the warmth of your pretty pussy. “‘Want to do more, too.” 

“More? You want more?” 

“Mhm,” he whines, his bangs drooping into his eyes. You brush them back, eager to see his lids grow heavy with lust. “I really want to fuck you.” 

Alright. 

“Bedroom.” 

He follows closely behind you, sloppily kissing your shoulder as you tug him towards your room. You’re royally fucked, your legs already shaking the minute you lay down on your bed, Jungwon climbing over you the second your back hits the mattress. 

“You’re so pretty,” he says, kissing up your neck and jaw. 

You giggle, tangling your fingers in his hair, softer than a morning breeze. You could hear him say that same compliment a hundred times more, and it would still leave you warm and fuzzy. 

“You’re pretty, too,” you comment, kissing his nose. 

He giggles against your lips, chaste kisses scattered across your mouth and face. The warm feeling of your words spreads in his chest and throughout his whole body, heating him from the inside out. Lazily dragging a finger down to your willing cunt, he gently circles your clit to prep you. 

You’re aware that he’s smaller than what he presented you with last evening, but he’s still plenty big. His length rests in the crux of your thigh, long and thick. Your mouth falls open, soft moans slipping from your lips as he wastes no time licking into your mouth. Jungwon subtly begins to grind against your leg, intoxicated by your touch, no matter the medium. 

You, however, are growing desperate. 

“I need you to fuck me, Jungwon,” you plead, digging your nails into his shoulders. His eyes grow heavy, tracing every line and edge of your face. “Please, baby. Fuck me.” 

He would give you the world if you asked. 

Ever the most efficient, Jungwon leans back slightly, placing his cock between your folds and watching as your hole clenches at the proximity. He thrusts against you a few times, coating himself with your slick and savoring the moan you release when he nudges your clit. The mark of his teeth on your thigh stares back at him, still tender and fresh. He traces the crescents, heart thundering against his ribcage so loudly he’s almost positive you can hear it.

“Wait, fuck,” you gasp, stopping him with a hand on his hip. “We need a condom.” 

“W-What? What’s that?” 

You lean towards the small table next to your bed, pulling the drawer open before you reveal a small foil square. Tearing it open with your teeth—a sight that Jungwon could’ve never predicted would make his dick twitch—you reveal a delicate latex circle. He sits back on his haunches when you guide him away from the inside of your thighs, upset by the distance, but pleased when you wrap your hand around the base of him. You slip the latex over his head and down his shaft, quick and effortless like you’ve done this before. He doesn’t want to think about it. 

“It’s so I don’t get pregnant,” you inform, laying back down against your no-longer pristine sheets. 

Jungwon thinks he just came a little bit at the thought. 

“Right,” he coughs, looming over you once again. “Wouldn’t want that to happen.” 

“Are you blushing?” you tease, pinching his ruby-red cheek between your thumb and forefinger. 

He swats you away, tucking his head against the curve of your neck in embarrassment. “Shut up,” he mumbles. 

Jungwon sighs the second he ruts against you, soft and breathy. You indulge him for a moment, whining with every glide against your clit. However, after a couple minutes of humping against each other like animals, the heat boiling within you grows too unbearable to ignore. 

“Alright,” you huff, reaching between you two to line him up against your hole. “‘Need to feel you inside me now.” 

He nods, lifting his head from your neck so he can watch himself slowly sink into you. You’re tighter than he could’ve imagined, a loud moan escaping him without his control. You lift your hips, chasing the feeling of him filling you up. Maybe you’ve always been able to get this wet—you’re not sure—but you know you’ve never been this wet for anyone other than Jungwon. 

“Fuck, Wonie,” you whine, clawing at his back. Once he reaches the hilt, he collapses forward, nosing along your jaw as he whimpers with every adjusting clench around his cock. 

Thrusting forward, neither of you know what to focus on. Hands groping and fondling everything they can reach, you’re certain red lines litter Jungwon’s back and he’s sure finger-print shaped bruises will be printed across your thigh, accompanying his bite mark. 

“You feel so good, pretty,” he moans, grinding against your clit before pulling out half-way and thrusting forward. 

Jungwon prides himself in his strength, he’s always been quick and able to fight back without worry. But at this moment, you’ve rendered him weak. All of his energy is directed to pleasing you, resting between your folds, hot and heavy. The head of his cock grazes against the spongy spot inside you, and it has you pressing your tits against his chest and moaning into his ear. He thinks that might be his new favorite feeling, but then you have him experiencing a feeling so new and unique that he realizes that having a favorite is impossible when it comes to you. 

You have to damn near yank Jungwon away from you, neck damp and warm from his panting against your skin. Jungwon moans against your tongue the second you kiss him, lips bit-ridden and plush. 

“Mmph, baby,” you moan, unable to kiss back after a particularly harsh thrust against your walls. Stars decorate your vision, hyperfixating on the mole on his jaw before becoming enamored by the small smirk on his lips. “You’re so good to me.” 

Completely blissed out, Jungwon isn’t even aware of his smile, but you love it all the same. “Yeah? Makin’ you feel good, pretty?” he groans, speeding up his pace just a fraction. “Need more? Want to feel you come again, is that okay?” 

You nod frantically, unable to control yourself as your hips don’t know whether to run away or lean into the pleasure he’s providing you. “Need it,” you whine, overwhelmed by the pressure building within you. 

“Mmph- anything you want, beautiful,” he whimpers, pressing a kiss to your lips before pushing your knee closer to chest and resting it along the curve of his waist. 

He sets a brutal pace, sounds of your pussy squelching around him and your moans filling the room. You can feel yourself dripping down his shaft and onto your sheets, a mess you’ll most definitely need to clean up later but can’t be bothered to worry about at this moment. Not while he’s fucking you so well. 

Your tits jump with every harsh thrust, his hips smacking against your own. He’s entranced by how mindless you’ve become, growing needier with every sigh and whine that escapes you. There has never been a prettier sight than you. 

“Ohh,” you gasp, hips jolting when you feel his fingers begin to rub your clit. “Fuck, keep doing that, baby. I’m so close,” you urge, vision colored with lust.

“I got you,” he whispers against your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth before releasing it with a pop. “Just let go, pretty.” 

He rubs your clit one more time, your eyes slipping shut before you cum for the second time in the past hour. Your head presses into the pillow beneath you, back arching as your hips rut against him as you chase the remainder of your release. 

You grow impossibly tighter around him, the slick that spills from you aiding the glide of his cock inside you. Rendered breathless, all words leave your mind. You can only moan to let him know how good he’s making you feel. Jungwon continues to buck wildly against you, eager to taste his own pleasure. 

“Never gonna leave you again,” he groans, kissing and sucking your lips into his mouth. “Never wanna be without you.” 

Boneless and weak, you use the last of your strength to card your fingers through his hair one last time, meeting his eyes with a fond look. His dick throbs, aching and heavy, and your gaze is not helping stave off his impending release. He curses his gods and yours for trying to separate the two of you, eternally grateful that you defied the odds by coming together as his stomach and balls tighten. 

Jungwon doesn’t want it to end. It all feels too fast. But the look you give him reassures that you will have many more opportunities to come. Opportunities for him to lazily rock against you in the mornings, moments to fuck you into oblivion, and moments to make proper love. He can't wait to hear more sounds from you and to whisper filthier words into your ear, and to feel you melt around him time and time again. 

The syrupy sounds you release fill him up, and as his voice jumps the octave in a breathy moan, he releases into the condom. His dick twitches relentlessly against your walls, overstimulating you beyond the point where you could care. He rocks against you unceremoniously, jerky and without rhythm before slowing to a gentle end. 

Jungwon presses his forehead to yours, allowing you to cradle his face in your palms as you press sweet kisses into his skin. As the two of you slow, stilling into a quiet calm, your breaths sync and your hands continue to explore in a hushed wonder. 

For the first time in your life, you don’t mind basking in the silence of the morning, consenting to his gaze under the broad daylight, despite being certain you look like a sweaty, fucked-out mess. But Jungwon doesn’t care, you’re his girl all the same. 

The two of you finally come to, giggly kisses keeping you occupied until you grow hungry, stumbling out of bed to clean yourselves. And as you sit on the floor of your living room, beside Jungwon, handing him a grilled cheese—too tired to fix anything else—you realize that your father has been right about many things, but he could not possibly be more wrong than he was about your boyfriend and his character. He is the sea and the sky and the Earth, all wrapped into one. 

When Jungwon knocks his knee against your bare thigh, dressed only in his underwear with buttered crumbs stuck to his lips as he sends you a love-sick smile, you feel certain that you did the right thing by returning to the beach that day. With the moon etched into his eyes and the sun kissing your skin, your infatuation has transcended worlds. 

ⓒ starvine

[jaysbaefie]

AITA? | psh

synopsis: in which you post about the most insufferable guy in your class on an AITA thread, only to find someone in the comments defending him a little too passionately.

genre: enemies to lovers??

pairing: insufferable!sunghoon x menace!reader

warnings: sexual tension, so many gawddamn arguments, some eye fucking from sunghoon’s behalf, lowkey bratty!reader, dom!hoon, semi-public sex, washroom sex, spitting, choking, oral (m rec.), fingering, biting, mirror sex, so much degrading, begging, spanking, slapping, teasing, unprotected p in v (don’t do it…), creampie, light cum play…i think that’s it…

wc: 13k

a/n: i love me some enemies to lovers i feel ashamed 😔😋 anyways after almost 3 months ya gurl is back w anotha banger 😛😛 warning, this isn’t edited properly i did like a quick read over or 2 and ran out of patience. ill sit down months later to revise it (no i wont). as always, notes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. enjoy :p

˙𐃷˙

the literature lecture hall buzzed quietly with the usual sounds of a monday morning class—keyboard typing, coffee lids snapping shut, chairs dragging lazily across the floor.

rain streaked against the tall windows beside you, grey light spilling across rows of half-awake university students while professor choi clicked through his lecture slides at the front.

this class was your last pick and you were barely listening until the next discussion question appeared on the board.

what does meursault's emotional detachment represent?

professor choi adjusted his thick framed circle glasses.

"thoughts?"

and then, unfortunately, park sunghoon raised his hand.

you already knew this was about to piss you off. your face twisting into one of pure disgust before the man even opened his mouth.

sunghoon sat three rows ahead of you, posture relaxed, one arm slung over the back of his chair like he owned the lecture hall. he didn't even look interested in the discussion, which somehow made it more annoying whenever he spoke and everyone listened anyway.

professor choi nodded toward him."go ahead."

sunghoon spoke evenly, like a corrupt politician who was going to promise world peace. like he was delivering some groundbreaking intellectual revelation instead of absolute nonsense.

"i think the novel critiques performative emotion more than emotional detachment itself."

you narrowed your eyes immediately. all you could hear was blah blah blah meh meh meh.

sunghoon continued, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips so the bullshit he was going to spew would come out smoother.

"society condemns meursault not because he committed murder, but because he doesn't react the way people expect him to emotionally. he refuses to fake grief, guilt, remorse—"

"because he doesn't have any," you interrupted flatly.

a few heads turned instantly, students giving each other knowing looks.  sunghoon glanced over his shoulder at you.

not irritated. oh no no, worse. he was amused.

"that's an oversimplification." he clicked, leaning his head back to the front to give professor choi a lazy look that basically said 'you see what's happening here?'

"no," you said. "you're just romanticizing emotional incompetence because the author used fancy wording."

a quiet snort came from somewhere behind you causing sunghoon to turn fully in his seat now. "you think the entire point of the novel is that he's a bad person?"

"i think the point is that detachment isn't inherently profound just because a man is quiet."

that got a reaction, small and subtle. a couple students trying not to laugh, their binders going up to hide their facial expressions as professor choi gave them a warning look.

sunghoon's eyes narrowed slightly for the first time.

finally.

"you're reducing existentialism to a personality flaw."

"and you're treating basic human empathy like it's optional."

professor choi opened his mouth and closed it again. probably deciding it was safer not to interfere yet.

sunghoon rested his arm against the desk beside him. "the novel literally argues that societal expectations of emotion are artificial."

"okay, but there's a difference between rejecting social performance and acting like a disconnected freak."

sunghoon gave you a look at the last word, "interesting choice of wording."

"oh please," you scoffed. "you're acting like meursault is some misunderstood visionary when really he's just emotionally constipated."

someone coughed to hide a laugh and sunghoon's jaw ticked slightly.

barely noticeable, but you noticed. because you notice everything about park sunghoon, the good and the bad. unfortunately, more of the good which was all physical. nothing mental of course, the man had an IQ of a turnip.

arguing with park sunghoon had become a skill you'd accidentally perfected over the past two years. he always looked composed, always calm. but there were little tells and small cracks. tiny expressions that appeared when you pushed hard enough.

and right now? he was getting annoyed.

good.

"you're too emotionally reactive to engage with the text objectively," he said, his dark eyes boring into your own as if he was trying to get under your skin.

which, to be fair, he was. you knew that, and he definitely knew that.

you let out a short laugh. "and you think sounding detached makes you intelligent."

his gaze held yours for a second too long. steady and sharp. "maybe i just know how to separate emotion from analysis."

"maybe you just enjoy hearing yourself talk."

sunghoon tilted his head slightly, "you've interrupted me four times."

"because every sentence somehow gets worse."

a few quiet laughs spread through the room again. you saw professor choi pinch the bridge of his nose from the corner of your eye.

sunghoon looked entirely unbothered by the class watching. if anything, he looked more focused now.

like he enjoyed this, he enjoyed the attention he was receiving. the perfect spotlight to argue with a classmate. which made you irrationally angrier. "you're intentionally ignoring nuance."

"and you're intentionally making this deeper than it actually is."

"literature is supposed to be analyzed deeply."

"not every quiet man with a god complex is philosophically revolutionary, sunghoon."

that one landed, hard. his brows lifted slightly and the room went quieter. you could practically feel everyone pretending not to listen now.

sunghoon leaned back slowly in his chair. still staring at you, not daring to break eye contact.

"you know," he said lightly, "for someone who claims i'm insufferable, you spend an impressive amount of time thinking about my opinions."

your stomach flipped in annoyance. strictly annoyance.

"trust me," you replied sweetly, "criticizing you is not a difficult intellectual exercise."

the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. which only irritated you more because why did he look entertained right now?

"you get weirdly passionate whenever i disagree with you."

"because you say insane things with unnecessary confidence."

"and yet you always argue back."

you opened your mouth immediately. "because someone has to humble you."

sunghoon's eyes flicked briefly down toward your mouth before returning to your eyes so quickly you almost thought you imagined it.

almost.

then he said quietly, "you've been trying for two years."

your heartbeat stumbled once, completely involuntary by the way. and judging by the sudden silence in the lecture hall, several other people noticed the shift too.

professor choi finally sighed loudly enough to cut through the tension.

"well," he muttered dryly, "this has certainly been more engaging than most of your discussion contributions."

a few students laughed softly.

you tore your gaze away from sunghoon first, reaching for your pen like your pulse hadn't just betrayed you for absolutely no reason.

meanwhile, across the room, sunghoon leaned back in his chair again.

looking entirely too pleased with himself.

˙𐃷˙

by the time professor choi dismissed the class, the atmosphere in the lecture hall felt weirdly charged.

like everyone had just witnessed something they definitely shouldn't have.

chairs scraped against the floor as students packed up their bags, conversations immediately erupting around the room.

you shoved your laptop into your tote aggressively, muttering curses about the boy who shall not be named.

mostly because you could still feel park sunghoon's smug expression somewhere in your peripheral vision.

you hated him and his stupid fucking beautiful face.

the worst part was that he never even looked genuinely angry during your arguments. no matter how heated things got, sunghoon always stayed calm—relaxed posture, steady voice, slightly amused expression like he was watching you self-destruct for entertainment.

it was infuriating.

sunoo appeared beside your desk, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "you know," he said casually, "that was kind of the highlight of my week."

you glared at your so called best friend, "you're sick."

"no seriously," sunoo grinned. "when you called him emotionally constipated i almost started clapping."

you huffed, standing up. "he deserved worse." together, you and sunoo started toward the lecture hall doors with the crowd of students funneling out into the hallway.

except—someone was standing near the exit.

waiting, wearing a black hoodie. arms crossed loosely.

park sunghoon.

of course he was, because the argument that had erupted during class just wasn't enough for this troll doll. your steps slowed instinctively and sunoo noticed immediately, his smile widened, ear to ear.

fucking traitor.

sunghoon's eyes found yours through the crowd almost instantly. calm as ever and annoyingly unreadable.

then, as you got closer, he pushed himself off the wall.

you already knew he was about to say something irritating, you could feel it.

sunghoon stepped aside just enough to let other students pass before leaning slightly closer toward you.

close enough that you caught the clean scent of his cologne beneath the lingering smell of coffee and rain.

"for someone who hates my opinions," he murmured quietly, "you seem obsessed with hearing them."

you stopped walking and slowly turned your head toward him. you hated how you had to crank your head up to make eye contact with him, the height difference between you two surrendering your loss.

"and for someone who claims to be emotionally detached," you replied sweetly, "you sure spend a lot of time trying to get my attention."

sunghoon's mouth twitched, that stupid almost-smile again. he looked down at you at with this look that you couldn't quite identify.

"see you monday." you hope one of you don't make it to monday, preferably him.

you stared at him for one long second, really stared. at his stupid face. his stupid sharp jawline. his stupid pretty mouth that constantly said the most unbearable things imaginable.

then you walked away before you committed a felony.

sunoo was already laughing beside you. "OH my god," he breathed. "you two are unbelievable."

"he's unbelievable," you snapped immediately, a faint flush covering your face and neck.

sunoo hummed, clearly unconvinced. he was your best friend since elementary school, he knew exactly what this was.

the hallway buzzed with students moving between lectures while rain hammered softly against the windows lining the corridor. you shoved through the doors toward the outside courtyard, irritation simmering hotter with every passing second.

"i genuinely cannot wait until i graduate," you muttered. "the second i get my degree i'm never seeing that freak again."

sunoo snorted, looking at your pink tinted cheeks with a grin. "you still have two years left."

your eye twitched at the realization.

right.

two more years.

two more years of literature classes and discussion boards and seeing park sunghoon sitting three rows ahead of you looking annoyingly composed all the time.

you groaned dramatically. "i can't do this anymore."

sunoo bumped your shoulder lightly. "you've survived two years already."

"barely."

the more you thought about him, the angrier you got. because sunghoon was the exact type of person that's easy to hate.

too calm. too smug. too aware of how intelligent he was. and worst of all—too attractive for absolutely no reason.

everything about him irritated you.

his stupid perfect smile whenever he thought he'd won an argument. his stupidly long fingers tapping against his desk during lectures. the way his hoodies stretched across his broad shoulders.

the fact that he somehow looked composed even when everyone else looked exhausted during midterms.

it was deeply, deeply annoying.

you physically smacked yourself in the forehead.

sunoo blinked at your sudden outburst. "what was that for?"

"nothing."

sunoo narrowed his eyes. then slowly—dangerously—he smiled. "oh my god."

you frowned immediately, not liking the way he was smiling down at you. "what."

"i think you might be the issue."

you stopped walking so abruptly someone nearly walked into your shoulder. "excuse me?"

sunoo shrugged innocently. "i'm just saying."

"how the hell am i the issue?"

"you do start a lot of the arguments."

you stared at him in betrayal. "because he says ridiculous things."

"sometimes."

"all the time."

sunoo hummed thoughtfully, not agreeing, which was offensive. why is your best friend not blindly supporting you even when you're probably wrong, which you aren't, but even if you were—the fuck?

you scoffed loudly. "sunghoon is literally the one who started this whole thing."

and he had, freshman year. first semester.

he'd corrected one of your points during a class discussion with that calm, mildly condescending tone of his and something inside you had immediately gone: absolutely not.

listen you can take criticism, just not from that man specifically.

ever since then, every interaction between you had turned into some kind of competition. you couldn't help it. sunghoon always acted so composed, so polished, so annoyingly perfect that it made you want to knock him down a level, or several.

sunoo shoved his hands into his pockets. "okay but maybe if you stopped interacting with him—"

"impossible."

"you didn't even let me finish."

"because you're wrong."

sunoo laughed softly, knowing damn well that nothing he was going to say would penetrate through your thick skull. "you could just ignore him."

you looked at him like he'd suggested murder.

ignore park sunghoon? absolutely not.

that sounded suspiciously like losing. sunoo noticed your expression immediately and burst out laughing. "see? that's exactly what i mean."

you crossed your arms. "i am not the problem here."

sunoo just gave you a look. one of those deeply irritating best friend looks that implied he knew you better than you knew yourself.

which, unfortunately, he probably did.

you pulled your phone out of your pocket causing sunoo to raise a brow.

"what are you doing?"

"i'm getting unbiased opinions."

"from who?"

you opened reddit with complete confidence and sunoo immediately groaned.

"oh no."

˙𐃷˙

your dorm room was suspiciously quiet except for the aggressive tapping of your keyboard.

sunoo sat cross-legged at the end of your bed eating gummy bears straight from the bag while watching you with the exact same expression people have witnessing a public breakup.

concern mixed with entertainment.

you ignored him. because right now you were busy crafting the most objectively accurate reddit post ever written.

the glow from your laptop lit your face as you reread the title for the fifth time.

AITA for telling a guy in my class to shut up because he thinks he's always right?

perfect. concise. truthful.

you cracked your knuckles dramatically before continuing to type. sunoo snorted from the other side, picking out all the red gummies before stuffing them into his mouth.

- there's this guy in one of my university classes and he is genuinely one of the most irritating people i've ever met.

he's quiet but in a pretentious way? like he thinks being emotionally constipated makes him intelligent. he corrects EVERYONE during discussions and somehow always sounds smug even when he's technically being polite.

the worst part is that he's annoyingly good at everything. presentations? perfect. essays? perfect. participation? professor's favourite somehow.

one time i got a question wrong during class and this man literally smirked at me. SMIRKED. like a disney villain.

today we got into an argument during lecture because he was saying some pseudo intellectual nonsense and i told him to shut up because nobody cares about his superiority complex anymore.

now some people are saying i overreacted but i genuinely think he needed to be humbled.

AITA? -

you hit post.

then immediately grabbed your phone while bouncing slightly in your seat.

sunoo stared at you with mild distaste. "you look like you just launched a cyber attack."

"i'm right and soon the public will confirm it."

sunoo snorted. "you're insane."

the first comment appeared almost instantly.

you gasped dramatically. "OH MY GOD." sunoo leaned over slightly as you opened it, rolling his eyes as soon as he read the first word.

- NTA this guy sounds like if a philosophy podcast became a person. -

you slapped sunoo's arm excitedly."SEE?"

another comment appeared.

- girl stand UP. why are you letting a man who's probably named after a victorian disease humble you in public -

you folded over laughing, sunghoon was a disease alright. a disease that would rot and corrupt your brain before leading you to your own destruction.

sunoo grabbed your laptop before you dropped it off the bed. "okay that one was funny."

more comments flooded in rapidly and sunoo watched as your expression morphed into one of pure joy. like a kid who had just walked into a candy shop with an unlimited budget and no parental supervision.

- NTA he sounds insufferable. - ESH you both sound annoying but in a sexual tension way. -

you frowned, "what does that even mean?"

sunoo looked away suspiciously fast, hiding his smirk.

another one.

- i know EXACTLY the type of man you're talking about. probably wears silver jewelry and thinks eye contact is a personality trait. -

your jaw dropped. "THEY GET ME."

sunoo popped another gummy bear into his mouth, eyeing you. "or maybe you're describing every business major ever."

you ignored him because the comments were getting better by the second.

- does he perchance look like this: 🗿 -

"OH MY GOD." he totally does.

- girl he likes you. ⤷ no literally this sounds like academic enemies to lovers fanfiction. -

"okay why does everyone keep saying that," you muttered, a deep frown now etched on your face. you were beginning to not like where these comments were headed.

sunoo made a noncommittal noise. you narrowed your eyes at him briefly before scrolling again.

- i'm crying at "emotionally constipated." please cook him again. - next class hit him with "you're not beating the pretentious allegations." - ask him if he learned emotional intelligence from patrick bateman edits and sigma bro podcasts lol. -

you physically wheezed, your body folding over in laughter. sunoo shook his head slowly, watching you upvote every single comment that dissed sunghoon.

"you're enjoying this way too much."

"because i'm finally being validated."

you pointed accusingly at him. "unlike SOME people."

sunoo rolled his eyes before muttering, "whatever bitch."

another comment appeared.

- INFO: is he actually arrogant or are you just threatened because he's smarter than you? -

your smile vanished instantly. "BOOOOO."

you downvoted it immediately, sunoo burst out laughing. "you are NOT supposed to interact emotionally with the comments."

"they interacted emotionally with ME first."

you kept scrolling, feeling increasingly euphoric as strangers across the internet continued confirming what you'd known all along: park sunghoon was deeply irritating.

the comments only got more ridiculous from there.

- "he smirked at you after you got a question wrong" oh huny he wants you BAD. - this sounds less like hatred and more like unresolved yearning. - enemies to lovers ahh post. -

"unresolved yearning?" you repeated aloud in horror.

oh fuck no.

sunoo was smiling now. not laughing. no no, he was smiling.

which was somehow worse, you turned your head slowly to shoot him a glare, "what."

he shrugged. "nothing."

you narrowed your eyes suspiciously then looked back at your screen.

another comment. this one longer.

- honestly i think you're leaving out context. from your own description, it sounds like he was trying to engage in discussion normally and you took it personally because you already dislike him. -

your smile faltered slightly.

who the fuck was this? and why the fuck do they think they know the situation?

the comment continued:

- correcting people during literary discussions isn't arrogance if he's contributing meaningful analysis. also, calling someone "emotionally constipated" because they interpret a book differently than you is kind of ironic. -

you scoffed loudly. "OH BROTHER." get a load of this guy, why don't they just go and suck sunghoon's dick at this point.

sunoo leaned closer, reading the comment out loud "wait that one kinda—"

"no."

you clicked reply immediately, your fingers flying across the keyboard.

- if you defend people like this i just KNOW nobody likes you in real life. -

sunoo let out a disbelieving laugh. "you're fighting civilians now?"

"they started it."

your reply posted and within less than thirty seconds— the person responded.

- bold assumption coming from someone who wrote an entire essay about a classmate because he annoyed her. -

you froze and slowly sat up straighter. you felt your face tense in what you can only identify as pure raw anger.

sunoo noticed instantly when your face went from. mildly annoyed to baboon ass red. "what."

your eyes narrowed at the screen. something about the reply irritated you immediately. the tone. calm. slightly condescending. annoyingly articulate.

...absolutely not. no way.

you started typing again with renewed aggression. you stared at the username with pure hatred.

notniceprince02

your eye twitched, something about it already annoyed you. the reply sat there on your screen like a personal attack.

calm and smug. condescending in a weirdly articulate way that made you want to throw your laptop across the room.

sunoo leaned closer from beside you. "what happened?"

you pointed aggressively at the screen. "this person thinks i'm the problem."

sunoo made a face. "well..."

you slowly turned toward him eyes like slits and your mouth scrunched. "choose your next words carefully." sunoo immediately looked back down at his gummy bears.

fucking coward.

you cracked your fingers dramatically before typing a response.

- sorry i didn't realize his defense attorney was in the comments section. should i call you next time he starts acting like a rejected sherlock holmes adaptation? -

you hit reply with satisfaction, finally letting out the breath of anger you had taken earlier,

sunoo blinked. "you type like you're in a duel."

"because i am."

less than a minute later—another response.

- maybe people correct you often because you're wrong often. -

you gasped so loudly sunoo nearly dropped the gummy bear bag. "OH this bitch."

you didn't know who this person was but you are not the one to be fucked with like this. your fingers flew over the keyboard with new found passion.

- and maybe you defend emotionally detached weirdos online because you see yourself in him. -

reply posted and the response came back almost immediately.

- emotionally detached = calm emotional instability = writing reddit essays because a guy disagreed with you in class -

sunoo physically leaned forward now the gummy bears had been abandoned.

"okay wait," he said slowly. "this is getting good."

you ignored him, mostly because your blood pressure was rising.

- if being calm means acting like a pretentious AI generated philosophy quote then congratulations i guess. -

reply and instant response.

- if being intelligent sounds pretentious to you that might be a personal issue. -

your jaw dropped. "PERSONAL ISSUE?"

sunoo was trying not to laugh, badly. you glared at him before pushing at his shoulder hard enough to have him almost fall of your bed. unlucky for you, he managed to catch his balance and stay seated next to you with a dumb grin on his face.

"i'm sorry but they kinda cooked you there."

"whose side are you on?" fucking twink.

"the entertainment's."

traitor.

you sat up straighter on the bed, narrowing your eyes at the screen like notniceprince02 had personally wronged your entire bloodline.

- you sound exactly like the guy i'm talking about btw. same superiority complex. same "i think i'm the smartest person in every room" energy. -

the response appeared almost immediately, which somehow irritated you more. did this person have no life? fighting with strangers on the internet like a loser.

this doesn't apply to you of course.

- maybe you're just intimidated by people who challenge you intellectually. -

you stared at the screen in disbelief.

sunoo let out a quiet whistle. "they hit a nerve?"

"i'm going to hit THEM."

you typed furiously, your thumbs cramping up but you don't let weak things like this stop you.

- intellectually challenge me? please. this man raises his hand in class like he's announcing a new world order then says the most pseudo intellectual nonsense you've ever heard. -

response.

- interesting. you seem to remember his class participation very vividly. -

you froze for like half a second and then scoffed loudly.

because it's TRAUMATIZING. not because you care enough to remember, but because it's shocked itself into the crevices of your brain.

sunoo snorted while you kept going.

- he literally smirks when people get answers wrong. do you know how deeply punchable that is? -

response.

- maybe he smirks because your reactions are dramatic. -

you narrowed your eyes dangerously. this conversation, more like argument, felt more natural that you'd like to admit.

- okay now i KNOW you're him. -

sunoo's brows shot up immediately. hold on...

you pointed at the screen frantically. "LOOK AT HOW HE TYPES."

sunoo leaned closer, the two of you stared silently at the replies for a moment. then—sunoo slowly looked at you. "that actually does sound like him."

"THANK YOU." validation surged through your body instantly. you pointed aggressively at the laptop. "RIGHT? the annoying calmness? the fake intellectual wording? the superiority complex?"

sunoo tilted his head, a shit eating grin plastered on his porcelain face. "you know him disturbingly well."

"unfortunately."

another reply appeared.

- i think it's funny how much attention you pay to someone you supposedly dislike. -

you barked out a laugh, completely humorless.

- oh my god. you ARE him. -

response.

- and if i was? -

you sat there, staring. sunoo sat there too, also staring. the room suddenly felt strangely quiet as you squinted at the screen.

"why did that make me mad."

sunoo was smiling again, that knowing smile. you hated that smile.

"because you think it might actually be him."

"it's not him."

"mhm."

"it's just some annoying reddit user." another response appeared before you could keep ranting.

- for the record, if this guy really is as arrogant as you claim, why do you keep engaging with him? -

you rolled your eyes instantly.

- because someone has to humble him. -

reply.

- sounds more like obsession. -

you gasped, like actually gasped. you? obsessed with sunghoon? out of all the people in this world? fuck no.

sunoo folded over laughing. "OH MY GOD."

"OBSESSION?" you typed so aggressively the keyboard started clacking violently.

- you people see a man and woman arguing and immediately think there's romantic tension. have you considered that i simply think he's irritating and unfortunate-looking? -

sunoo looked at you, slowly. "unfortunate-looking?"

you avoided eye contact because unfortunately that part wasn't true. at all. which was deeply annoying. you hated how you couldn't get away with dissing his appearance because as much as you hate to admit it, there was nothing to pick at.

another reply.

- unfortunate-looking yet you described his facial expressions in detail. -

you froze. sunoo froze. your eyes slowly widened as you stared at sunoo who looked equally as surprised as you.

"..."

sunoo pointed at the screen. "THAT IS ABSOLUTELY HIM."

"SHUT UP."

˙𐃷˙

by the next morning, your hatred for user notniceprince02 had evolved into something genuinely concerning.

your phone had been vibrating nonstop since eight in the morning.

every. two. seconds.

ping.

ping.

PING.

another reply. another argument. another smug paragraph typed in that calm, annoyingly articulate tone that made your blood pressure spike on sight.

you sat in the student lounge with your laptop open and your phone in your hand simultaneously, responding across two devices like a woman fighting in active warfare.

sunoo sat across from you, fully invested now. having the thread opened on his laptop as he watched you type out responses like it was war.

classes? irrelevant. education? secondary.

this reddit argument had become the main event.

"you've replied to him thirty-seven times just in this past hour " sunoo said.

"thirty-eight." you hit send aggressively and sunoo blinked in pure shock.

"that was immediate."

"because he's wrong." your phone buzzed again and you looked down instantly.

- notniceprince02: "you keep proving my point by reacting emotionally to everything." -

you scoffed so loudly the two people at the next table glanced over.

"OH my god." your fingers slammed against the keyboard.

- sorry i forgot being emotionally unavailable is apparently a personality trait now. -

send.

and would you look at that, a response within seconds.

- no, but making hating one guy your entire personality definitely is. -

you stared at the screen with a scowl etched on your face. offended, deeply offended.

sunoo leaned over your shoulder to see you clutching your phone was a grip that would shatter your screen. then immediately started laughing. "okay no because why does this genuinely sound like sunghoon."

"it's NOT him."

"__."

"it's just some weird sigma male ass kisser who probably listens to podcasts hosted by divorced men."

sunoo snorted. "that sounds exactly like something you'd accuse sunghoon of."

you ignored him because your phone buzzed again—another reply.

- you seem weirdly committed to misunderstanding him. -

you rolled your eyes so hard it physically hurt. at this point you wondered how many people at the library thought something was mentally wrong with you.

- and you seem weirdly committed to defending him. is this his burner account or are you just in love with him? -

send.

sunoo nearly choked. "OH?"

"what?"

"you're spiraling."

"i'm WINNING."

sunoo pointed at your screen, a thread of reddit beef that's exceeded an appropriate limit. "this does not look like winning."

you frowned at the ongoing thread. unfortunately, it had become one of the top comments under your post. people were fully invested now with random users jumping into the argument just to spectate.

some were taking sides while others were making it worse, much worse.

- y'all are literally flirting. - this is the most enemies to lovers thing i've ever read. - somebody invite me to the wedding. - "irl academic rivals is CRAZY." -

you physically recoiled at the thought of being shipped with that garden troll of a man. "what is WRONG with people?"

sunoo looked way too entertained. "they kinda have a point."

"they absolutely do not."

another comment:

- at this point just kiss and get it over with.    ⤷ i would rather chew denim. -

you typed immediately, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. this was the last thing you had expected as an outcome when you posted on reddit.

sunoo burst out laughing. "chew denim?"

"i'm emotional."

your phone buzzed again.

- notniceprince02: "that's dramatic." -

your eye twitched as you read the message out loud. "HE KEEPS SAYING THAT." people had now physically turned on their seats to look at the two of you with curious and annoyed looks in their eyes.

sunoo pointed accusingly at you while gives others a apologetic smile.  "because you ARE dramatic." he whispered to you harshly all while motioning you to shut the fuck up.

"you're both against me."

"no," sunoo corrected. "i just think this is the funniest thing that's happened all semester."

you glared at him before standing abruptly, grabbing your phone. "i'm going to the washroom."

if sunoo wasn't going to appreciate this properly, then some girl in the stall next to you will.  sunoo hummed absently. "tell your boyfriend i said hi if he replies again."

"die."

you walked off before he could keep talking.

the hallways buzzed with students moving between lectures, conversations overlapping with the sound of footsteps and lockers shutting nearby.

your phone buzzed again and without looking up, you immediately started typing.

- no, because at this point you're defending him like you want him carnally. -

send.

you turned the corner toward the washrooms—and slammed directly into someone.

hard.

your shoulder collided with a solid chest and your phone nearly flew out of your hand.

"shit—"

steady hands caught your arms before you stumbled backward. familiar hands. long fingers curling briefly around your sleeves.

your stomach dropped instantly, because of course.

of fucking COURSE.

park sunghoon looked down at you with mild surprise, dark hair slightly messy like he'd been running his hands through it all morning. a pair of headphones rested around his neck, black hoodie sleeves pushed to his forearms.

and unfortunately—unfairly—he looked really good today.

which immediately irritated you, because how dare he have a shit personality and look good while ruining your mood by just breathing in your vicinity.

sunghoon glanced at your death grip on your phone before meeting your eyes again, a small smirk playing on his pink plush lips.

"you should probably watch where you're going." his voice was calm, low and slightly amused.

you narrowed your eyes instantly. "maybe people would move if they weren't standing in the middle of hallways like decorative statues."

one corner of his mouth lifted slightly. there it was, that stupid almost-smile. you hated that stupid almost-smile.

sunghoon's gaze flicked downward briefly. to your phone screen which was still open to reddit. your heart stopped for half a second because the thread was visible. very visible. and at the top of the screen sat a fresh notification from—notniceprince02 replied to your comment

sunghoon's eyes lingered on the notification then slowly lifted back to yours.

silence. your brain short-circuited instantly, no. absolutely not. there was no way. sunghoon looked at you for one long second before asking casually, "still fighting with strangers online?"

your entire body went still, just for a second. because there was absolutely no way—no actual way.

sunghoon stood there holding your arm loosely, thumb brushing the fabric of your sleeve while your phone screen glowed between you both like evidence in a criminal investigation.

notniceprince02 replied to your comment.

your brain was buffering. loading. malfunctioning.

sunghoon's expression remained frustratingly neutral but there was something there. something subtle: amusement.

your eyes narrowed immediately. "why are you looking at my phone?"

smooth. good recovery. yup yup.

sunghoon let go of your arm slowly, way too slowly. "hard not to when you almost tackled me with it."

you scoffed, "you were standing in my way."

"you walked directly into me."

"semantics."

sunghoon hummed quietly as his gaze flicked toward your screen again and then back to you.

"so," he said lightly, "what stranger online managed to upset you this badly?"

your grip tightened around your phone instantly. absolutely not. you were NOT about to entertain sunoo's ridiculous theory.

"nobody."

sunghoon raised a brow, "you look homicidal."

"maybe that's just your effect on people." you retorted back almost automatically. you wonder if you've ever responded to sunghoon in a normal way.

that stupid almost-smile appeared again. small and annoyingly attractive. you hated it, like actually hated it.

sunghoon tilted his head slightly. "you know," he murmured, "you get strangely defensive whenever i ask simple questions."

your stomach flipped in irritation, strictly irritation. "and you get strangely nosy for someone who acts emotionally detached all the time."

his eyes held yours for a second longer than necessary, steady and focused. like he was trying to figure something out.

the hallway around you blurred into noise and somehow you were still standing there.

too close to him, way too close.

you noticed stupid things at the worst possible times, like the faint scent of his cologne or the tiny mole near his neck. or the fact that his hair fell into his eyes slightly when he looked down at you like this.

deeply irritating.

sunghoon's gaze flicked briefly toward your mouth before returning upward so quickly you almost thought you imagined it.

almost.

"what?" you snapped immediately. you could feel a small flush cover your cheeks and neck at the thought of sunghoon sneaking glances at your lips. maybe he thought you looked really slapable right now, or really kissable. it hurt your ego to think that either one of those things were deemed acceptable to you.

his brows lifted slightly. "nothing."

liar.

you narrowed your eyes harder. "you're being weird."

"you say that every time you don't know how to respond."

your jaw dropped at his audacity. "i always know how to respond."

"mhm."

that stupid calm tone again. you wanted to bite him. which—bad wording. very bad wording.

sunghoon watched your expression shift in real time and something in his face changed slightly. like he noticed the exact moment your thoughts betrayed you.

horrifying. absolutely horrifying.

you recovered immediately, sort of. "why are you even talking to me right now?" you asked. "don't you have some freshmen discussion group to intellectually terrorize?"

sunghoon laughed quietly under his breath—actually laughed. and it caught you so off guard that you momentarily forgot to stay angry.

which made you angrier. "you're the one who ran into me."

"unfortunately."

"yet you're still standing here."

you opened your mouth then closed it. sunghoon noticed, of course he noticed. the only thing he doesn't seem to notice is his mouth opening and closing with cow noises spilling out during class.

the corner of his mouth twitched again. "that's new," he said softly.

"what is?"

"you being speechless." your face heated instantly, not because of him.

obviously.

you crossed your arms defensively. "you're unbelievably annoying."

"and yet," sunghoon said calmly, stepping slightly closer, "you keep talking to me."

your heartbeat stumbled. just once. which was unacceptable.

because now he was close enough that you could see every tiny detail in his expression—the faint curve of amusement in his eyes, the way his lips kept threatening to smile fully.

he looked way too pleased with himself. you hated that too. a group of students walked past nearby and one of them whispered: "there's no way they're not dating."

you whipped your head around instantly. "WE'RE NOT—"

sunghoon's hand suddenly landed lightly against the wall beside your head. not trapping you, but enough to make your words catch awkwardly in your throat.

his expression remained perfectly calm which somehow made the gesture worse. "you're loud when you're flustered," he said quietly.

your brain short-circuited. flustered? FLUSTERED?

you stared at him in disbelief. "i am not flustered."

sunghoon hummed, completely unconvinced as he reached into his pocket to slip out his phone. your pulse was going insane now for reasons you refused to examine.

then—your phone buzzed loudly between you both.

the notification lit up the screen and your head snapped down, unlocking your phone to see something that only made your heart drop to your gut.

- notniceprince02: "you still haven't answered my question." -

silence.

sunghoon looked down at the notification then slowly back up at you. and this time—this time he smiled properly.

small. sharp. dangerous.

your stomach dropped straight to hell. because suddenly—suddenly you knew.

oh my god.

it WAS him.

your soul briefly left your body. there was no other explanation for the horrifying full-body shutdown you experienced standing there in the middle of the hallway.

because park sunghoon was smiling at you. actually smiling. not the tiny smug almost-smirk he usually wore during arguments.

a real smile. sharp at the edges. dangerously entertained. and your phone was still glowing between you both with the notification from: notniceprince02

oh my god. OH my god.

you stared at him, sunghoon stared back. this fucker was playing with you this entire time and he had the audacity to look calm, composed and completely evil all at the same time.

your voice came out accusing immediately. "you're insane." sunghoon's smile widened slightly. which honestly should've been illegal because why did he suddenly look—no.

absolutely not.

"that's a strong reaction," he said mildly.

"you've been fighting with me online for like fourteen hours."

"thirteen, actually."

you blinked up at him, horrified.

sunghoon tilted his head slightly. "you stopped replying around three in the morning."

your jaw physically dropped. "YOU KEPT TRACK?"

"you type aggressively when you're tired."

you looked genuinely offended. "that is such a weird thing to notice."

"you notice weird things about me too."

silence. dangerous silence. because unfortunately—unfortunately he was right. and judging by the look on his face? he knew he was right too.

you recovered immediately or at least attempted to. "okay first of all," you started, pointing at him aggressively, "using a burner account to argue with me on reddit is psychotic behavior."

sunghoon crossed his arms loosely still way too relaxed. "you made an entire public post about me."

"i didn't SAY your name."

"you described me like a wanted criminal."

"because you're irritating."

"it was weirdly detailed."

your eye twitched. "you're unbelievable."

sunghoon leaned slightly closer, close enough that your stupid heart started acting weird again. "you wrote three paragraphs about my facial expressions."

heat crawled up your neck instantly. because in hindsight—mentioning the smirking might've been a mistake.

"that was for CONTEXT."

sunghoon hummed not buying it for a second. "right....right"

you hated how calm he sounded. like this entire situation entertained him more than anything else. which made sense, considering the man apparently spent his free time anonymously provoking you online.

actual freak behavior.

"and YOU," you shot back, "were defending yourself in the comments like a loser."

sunghoon's brows lifted. "i was defending myself because you compared me to a podcast for divorced men."

"because you talk like one."

"you literally accused me of wanting attention 'carnally.'" your face heated instantly, sunghoon looked way too pleased saying that out loud. "that was BEFORE i knew it was you."

"does that make it better?"

"a little."

his mouth twitched again. you wanted to throw him into traffic. respectfully.

sunghoon glanced down at your phone screen where the reddit thread was still open. hundreds of notifications flooded the post now. people were still replying, still arguing and still shipping you both for reasons you refused to acknowledge.

sunghoon read one of the comments over your shoulder, then laughed quietly. "someone said we have 'academic rivals to lovers tension.'"

you looked horrified, shooting him a quick glare before downvoting on the comment. "don't read those."

"why not?" he asked lightly. "they seem passionate about us."

"there is no 'us.'" you snapped back.

sunghoon's gaze flicked back to yours, steady—focused. "you sure?"

your stomach dropped. hard. something about the way he said it felt unfairly intentional. like he knew exactly what he was doing now. which—he probably did.

you crossed your arms tighter, defensive. "you're enjoying this way too much."

"you started it."

"you kept replying."

"so did you."

"because i don't lose arguments."

sunghoon stepped closer again, just slightly. enough that your back nearly brushed the wall behind you.

"is that what this is?" he asked softly.

you frowned. "what."

"you needing to win." his voice had gotten quieter somehow, lower and suddenly the hallway noise around you felt distant again.

students walked past constantly but it barely registered. because sunghoon was standing too close and looking at you like he'd figured something out.

you swallowed once, annoyed at yourself for even noticing. "obviously," you replied.

sunghoon watched you for another second. then, "i think you just like arguing with me."

you let out a disbelieving laugh immediately. "that is genuinely the dumbest thing you've ever said."

"is it?"

"yes."

"then why do you always look excited before you disagree with me?"

your mouth opened. closed. opened again. nothing came out. because that was—that was not the point. like fuck, you caught me i guess.

sunghoon noticed your silence instantly, of course he did. his expression shifted into something smugger and more dangerous. "there it is again."

"what."

"speechless."

you hated him, like actually hated him. especially because he looked so unfairly good right now standing there with messy dark hair and that stupid smug expression like he'd won something.

you narrowed your eyes. "you know what? maybe people only think you're smart because you say things confidently."

sunghoon leaned one shoulder casually against the wall beside you. completely cornering you now without actually touching you.

"maybe," he said calmly, "you only argue with me because i'm the only person who argues back."

your heartbeat betrayed you again. you stared at him, sunghoon stared back. then—your phone buzzed loudly again between you both.

another reddit notification, sunghoon glanced down before taking your phone into his own hands then read aloud: "'just kiss already and save us all the trouble.'"

you lunged for your phone instantly. "give me that." sunghoon lifted it out of reach easily and your eyes widened. "park sunghoon."

he looked down at you with blatant amusement. "that's the first time you've said my full name without sounding homicidal."

"i AM homicidal."

"mhm."

you reached for your phone again, sunghoon caught your wrist lightly before you could grab it. everything stopped. your breath. your thoughts. your functioning nervous system.

his fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist, warm and firm. and suddenly you became painfully aware of how close he actually was.

sunghoon looked down briefly at where he was holding you and then back at your face. his expression changed slightly, less teasing and more—dangerous.

your pulse went absolutely insane. then quietly—way too quietly—he said, "you know... you're a lot less mean when you're flustered."

your brain completely stopped functioning. like genuinely. because park sunghoon was still holding your wrist, still standing way too close, still looking at you with that horribly calm expression while your pulse was actively trying to kill you.

and the worst part? he knew. you could tell he knew. his thumb shifted slightly against your wrist and your stomach flipped so violently it made you angry.

sunghoon's eyes flicked briefly to your mouth again. then back up, slowly and deliberately.

"you know," he murmured, "the comments might be onto something."

your brows furrowed instantly. "what comments."

his mouth twitched. "'just kiss already and save us all the trouble.'"

you stared at him in disbelief. "absolutely not."

"why not?"

"because i'd rather die."

sunghoon hummed thoughtfully. "dramatic."

"you make me dramatic." that slipped out before you could stop it, the silence was thick.

sunghoon's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. something darker settling beneath the amusement. your face heated instantly. great. excellent. love that for you.

you tried pulling your wrist back but he didn't let go. not fully, he just loosened his grip slightly. enough to remind you he could let go if he wanted to, but wasn't.

"you know what i think?" he asked quietly.

"i don't care."

"i think you enjoy this."

you scoffed immediately. "arguing with you is psychologically damaging."

"yet you keep doing it."

"because someone needs to humble you."

sunghoon smiled slowly, that smile should've come with a warning label. "you've been saying that for two years, i don't think you're making much progress, __."

your stomach twisted, you hated how softly he said it. like he'd been thinking about it too, absolutely disgusting.

you crossed your arms tighter, or tried to. hard to look intimidating when he still had your wrist trapped loosely in his hand. "you're weirdly obsessed with me for someone who acts emotionally detached all the time."

sunghoon tilted his head slightly. "says the girl who wrote a public essay about me." at this point the both of you were repeating yourselves for the nth time, none of you progressing anywhere.

"because you're irritating."

"and handsome?"

you nearly choked. "WHEN did i say that?"

"you didn't have to."

you looked genuinely appalled, sunghoon laughed quietly under his breath. the sound went straight through you in the most irritating way imaginable.

you hated that too, everything about him irritated you. his stupid voice, his stupid face, his stupidly long fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

"you're insufferable."

"you like that word."

"because it applies to you constantly." you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes in the most dramatic way you could possibly pull off.

sunghoon leaned closer, close enough that your back finally brushed against the wall behind you.

you swallowed hard, annoyed. deeply annoyed.

"you know," he said softly, "for someone who claims to hate me, you stare at me a lot."

your jaw dropped. "you stare at ME."

"because you're loud."

"and you're annoying."

"yet here we are."

your heart was beating so hard you were convinced he could hear it. which was humiliating, especially because he looked entirely unaffected.

calm. steady. composed. which is what his heart monitor would read after you ran him over with your car.  you wanted to ruin that composure so badly. sunghoon's gaze dropped to your mouth again, this time slower and less subtle. your breathing hitched involuntarily and that smug bastard noticed immediately.

his eyes darkened slightly. "there it is," he murmured.

"what."

"that look."

"what look?"

sunghoon smiled faintly. "the one you get before you start losing an argument."

you pushed against his shoulder instantly, hard. or at least hard enough to make a point but sunghoon barely moved. which only irritated you more. "i never lose."

"sure."

"i'm serious."

"mhm."

you glared at him, sunghoon stared back. then quietly— way too calmly—he said, "maybe we should give people what they want."

your stomach dropped. "what."

his fingers tightened slightly around your wrist before he stepped closer again, completely boxing you in now. "the comments seem very invested in us."

"there is no 'us.'" you repeated for the nth time.

"you keep saying that."

"because it's true."

sunghoon looked at you for one long second, then his voice dropped lower, dangerously soft. "then how about we start with the kiss?"

your brain short-circuited so violently you physically stopped breathing. "excuse me?"

sunghoon's expression remained infuriatingly calm. but his eyes—his eyes looked anything but calm now. "you heard me."

heat exploded across your face instantly. "you are OUT of your mind."

"probably."

"i would never kiss you."

sunghoon leaned down slightly, close enough that his voice brushed against your skin. "you keep saying things your body language disagrees with."

your stomach flipped violently. you hated him, because he sounded so certain, so unfairly confident. you opened your mouth to argue again but footsteps echoed nearby and a group of students rounded the corner laughing loudly.

both of you glanced over instinctively, the moment broke slightly. just enough, except sunghoon didn't move away. instead, his gaze flicked briefly down the hall toward the nearby family washroom.

then back to you and your pulse spiked instantly. "sunghoon—"

before you could finish, he tugged lightly on your wrist. your breath caught as he pulled you forward down the hall.

"what are you DOING?"

sunghoon glanced back at you once, that same dangerous almost-smile pulling at his mouth.

"proving a point."

your stomach dropped straight to hell. your sneakers squeaked slightly against the floor as sunghoon pulled you down the hallway.

not fast enough to look suspicious, which somehow made it worse. his hand stayed wrapped around your wrist the entire time—warm, firm, steady—like he already knew you wouldn't actually pull away.

which was irritating, deeply irritating. "park sunghoon—"

"you say my full name a lot when you're nervous."

"i'm not nervous." he glanced back at you briefly, that smug look again.

"sure."

you swore out his entire bloodline at this moment as your heart was currently beating like you'd just sprinted across campus. sunghoon stopped outside the family washroom and pushed the door open casually before looking back at you expectantly.

your eyes widened immediately. "oh my god."

"what?"

"you're insane."

"you've said that already."

"because you keep proving it."

sunghoon's mouth twitched then he gently tugged your wrist again. you should've walked away, seriously. you should've told him to go to hell and left immediately.

instead—you followed him inside. which honestly felt like a personal failure.

the door clicked shut behind you.

the washroom was too bright and too small. and now sunghoon was standing directly in front of you with nowhere to escape to, hoodie sleeves pushed up his forearms and dark hair slightly falling into his eyes.

you became painfully aware of every inch of space between you both, which unfortunately (fortunately) wasn't much.

your pulse went insane. sunghoon leaned back lightly against the sink counter, still watching you with that same unreadable expression. except now there was something sharper underneath it, something heated.

you crossed your arms immediately, defensive. "if you murder me in here i'm haunting you."

sunghoon laughed quietly, the sound bounced softly off the tiled walls. "you think i'd need to drag you into a bathroom to kill you?"

"probably not. you'd do it in a psychologically manipulative way."

"interesting that you've thought about it."

"i think about punching you constantly."

sunghoon hummed. "violent."

"you bring it out in me."

his gaze held yours for a second too long. then, "i know."

your stomach flipped, you hated how low his voice sounded in here. hated how every tiny expression felt amplified now that you were alone. you needed to regain control of this conversation immediately.

"so what exactly was your master plan here?" you asked. "corner me in a public washroom and continue being annoying?"

sunghoon tilted his head slightly. "you came willingly."

well, he got you there. "against my better judgment."

"yet still willingly."

you rolled your eyes aggressively. "you're obsessed with having the last word."

"that's rich coming from you."

"i'm right most of the time." sunghoon smiled slowly, there it was again. that stupid smile that made you irrationally aware of how attractive he was.

you hated that too, everything about him was annoying. the way he stood, the way he talked. the way his hands and forearms looked resting against the sink behind him—okay.

you needed to stop thinking immediately. sunghoon noticed your brief lapse in concentration. his eyes narrowed slightly, amused.

"what happened?" he asked softly. "lost your train of thought?"

"i'm deciding how much jail time i'd get for assault." good cover up!

"probably less if you looked this cute during the mugshot."

your brain completely blue-screened, you stared at him. sunghoon stared back. completely calm after saying the most insane thing imaginable.

"you—" nothing, your thoughts evaporated.

sunghoon pushed off the sink slowly, one step closer. then another. your back instinctively hit the door behind you.

oh my god.

"what?" he asked quietly. you swallowed hard, annoyed at yourself.

"you can't just say things like that."

"why not?"

"because it's weird."

"you're flustered again."

"I AM NOT FLUSTERED."

sunghoon looked down at you for a long second then his gaze flicked to your mouth again. slowly and deliberately. your stomach twisted so hard it physically hurt and you wondered what would happen if you just threw up your guts onto him. how pretty would he look with a bacon egg and cheese splashed onto him?

"you know," he murmured, "for someone who claims to hate me, you let me get very close to you."

"you cornered me." you snap.

"you could move." you opened your mouth then closed it. because—well technically. he wasn't wrong. you absolutely could move, but instead you stayed exactly where you were.

sunghoon noticed immediately, that smug look returned. "there it is."

"stop saying that."

"then stop proving me right."

you glared at him, he stared back. neither of you moved. the tension in the room felt ridiculous now. thick enough to choke on.

and the worst part? sunghoon still looked calm. slightly amused, even. like he was waiting for you to figure something out.

your phone buzzed loudly in your pocket. both of you glanced downward instinctively. another reddit notification, causing sunghoon laughed softly. "they're probably asking if we kissed yet."

your face heated instantly. "they're delusional."

"mhm."

"stop doing that."

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that."

his brows lifted slightly. "like what?"

you gestured vaguely, frustrated. "like you know something i don't."

sunghoon stepped closer again, barely any space left between you now. his voice dropped lower, quieter. "maybe i do."

your breath caught, his hand lifted slowly toward your face. you froze up, completely. sunghoon's fingers brushed lightly against your jaw, gentle and careful. somehow that made it worse. your heartbeat was so loud you were convinced the entire campus could hear it.

sunghoon looked at you for one long second. then quietly—almost teasing—he murmured "still think you'd rather die than kiss me?"

your brain was screaming because park sunghoon's hand was on your jaw right now. his thumb resting lightly against your skin while he looked at you like this —calm on the surface, but with something much more dangerous underneath.

and the worst part? you still hadn't moved away.

your back pressed against the door behind you as your pulse absolutely lost its mind. sunghoon waited patiently for an answer.

that smug bastard. "well?" he murmured softly. you swallowed hard. "you're very confident for someone who uses reddit burner accounts."

the corner of his mouth lifted immediately. there you were, finally talking again.

"deflecting already?"

"i'm not deflecting."

"mhm."

you hated that sound. hated how he kept looking at you like he could see directly through every thought in your head. because right now those thoughts were actively betraying you.

you were suddenly hyperaware of everything, the warmth of his hand, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his hoodie sleeves stretched around his forearms when he shifted closer.

deeply irritating. you narrowed your eyes, trying desperately to regain control of the situation.

"you know what your problem is?"

sunghoon hummed softly, looking down at you with an unreadable glint in his dark eyes. "you think everyone secretly likes you."

"not everyone."

his thumb brushed your jaw slightly as he spoke and your stomach flipped violently.

"just you."

your breath caught embarrassingly fast. sunghoon noticed instantly and his eyes darkened slightly. suddenly the teasing atmosphere shifted into something heavier, quieter.

you hated how good he was at this. "you're unbelievable," you muttered.

"you've said that too."

"because you keep acting insane."

sunghoon leaned down slightly, close enough now that his voice felt warm against your skin.

"you haven't told me to stop."

your brain short-circuited. because—because technically—you hadn't. you opened your mouth immediately. "stop."

sunghoon smiled faintly, but didn't move. "that sounded forced."

you glared at him. "you're annoying."

"and yet you're still here." he kept doing that. kept pointing out things you didn't want to acknowledge. like the fact that you could absolutely shove him away right now if you wanted to.

except you didn't, which felt like a massive personal failure. your phone buzzed again in your pocket making sunghoon laughed quietly under his breath. "persistent audience."

"they need hobbies."

"says the girl who argued with me online for thirteen hours."

"because you were WRONG."

"about what exactly?"

"everything."

sunghoon's brows lifted slightly. "including the part where you're obviously attracted to me?"

your jaw dropped. silence. violent silence. your entire nervous system shut down. "you—"

nothing came out and sunghoon looked way too pleased with himself. "there it is again."

"if you say 'speechless' one more time i'm calling campus security."

he laughed again, soft and genuine. and it hit you in the chest in the most irritating way imaginable because you'd never heard him laugh like this before.

not during class, not during arguments. this was different, warmer, more relaxed. like he was actually enjoying himself.

you stared at him suspiciously, sunghoon noticed immediately. "what?"

"why are you smiling like that."

"like what?"

"like you're having fun." his gaze held yours for a second, then, "i am."

your stomach twisted again, it felt as if your body was actively betraying you . you looked away first this time, suddenly very interested in the tiled floor beneath you. sunghoon's hand shifted slightly, fingers brushing gently beneath your chin.

guiding your attention back to him and your heart nearly exploded.

"don't do that," you muttered weakly.

"do what?"

"that."

"very descriptive."

you glared at him, or attempted to. hard to look intimidating when your face was hot and your heartbeat sounded like a construction site.

sunghoon studied your expression quietly for a moment. then smiled slightly, smaller this time and less teasing. "you know what i think?"

"i think you should stop thinking entirely." you spat out weakly.

"i think," he continued calmly ignoring what you just said, "you've spent two years picking fights with me because it's the only time you stop pretending not to care what i think."

your stomach dropped straight to hell you stared at him only to see him look at you with a look you were afraid to identify.  and somehow that was worse than the teasing, because he sounded genuine now.

which felt unfair.

you recovered immediately through anger, your favorite defense mechanism.

"oh my god you are SO full of yourself."

"am i wrong?"

"yes."

"then why are you blushing?"

you slapped your hands over your face instantly, and sunghoon actually laughed. fully this time and the sound was so unexpectedly attractive it made you want to walk directly into traffic.

"stop laughing."

"you're cute when you're angry."

"you're making me angrier."

"i know." his voice softened slightly on the last two words, your hands slowly lowered from your face.

sunghoon was still standing impossibly close. still looking at you like he wanted to see what you'd do next. your heartbeat wouldn't calm down and neither would your thoughts.

and then his gaze dropped to your mouth again, slowly—intentionally.

your breath caught again and sunghoon noticed. again. his hand slid lightly from your jaw to the side of your neck.

you completely stopped functioning. "sunghoon," you whispered, first name only this time. this was probably the first time in the two years you knew him that you had said his name with such softness.

something shifted in his expression immediately and his eyes darkened. his thumb pressed lightly against your neck.

"yeah?" he murmured.

oh.

oh this was bad.

his thumb pressed gently against the pulse hammering in your throat. that single point of contact felt like a live wire.

"yeah?" he murmured again, his voice dropping into a register you'd never heard, low and rough and utterly dismantling. you had no witty retort, no clever insult. your brain was static, every neuron firing toward the heat of his hand, the dark focus in his eyes.

he saw the surrender you hadn't even voiced. his other hand came up, fingers threading through your hair to cradle the back of your head, and then he was closing the last inch of space.

his mouth was on yours.

it wasn't tentative. it wasn't a question. it was a firm, smooth claim that stole the breath from your lungs and the strength from your knees. his lips moved against yours with a confident pressure that was instantly dizzying. he tasted like mint and something darker, something uniquely him.

a soft, surprised sound escaped you, swallowed immediately by his kiss. he angled your head, deepening it, his tongue sweeping past your lips to tangle with yours.

it was an argument you couldn't win, a debate settled with a devastating, sensual finality. your hands, which had been balled into fists at your sides, came up to clutch at the fabric of his hoodie.

he broke the kiss just long enough to whisper against your swollen lips, "finally." then he was moving again, his body pressing you firmly back against the cool door. you felt your heart pounding in your chest like you had ran a mile, his one word stealing the strength from your legs.

in one fluid, shockingly strong motion, he captured both your wrists in one of his large hands and pinned them above your head. you gasped, a thrill of helplessness shooting straight to your core. his other hand returned to your throat, not squeezing, just holding, a dominant, possessive weight.

"always so loud," he breathed, his lips trailing down your jaw. "so much to say." you could feel the hard, undeniable ridge of his dick pressing against your stomach through both your clothes. the evidence of his desire was a shockwave that made you whimper. he smirked against your skin. "what's wrong? no clever comeback?"

he leaned in again, but instead of kissing you, he hovered. his gaze locked on yours, dark and intense. then he gathered a bit of saliva on his tongue and let it fall, slow and deliberate, past his own lips and onto yours.

the warm, wet intimacy of it made your eyes flutter closed for a second. "open," he commanded softly. dazed, you did. he sealed his mouth over yours again, sharing the wetness, the kiss turning filthy and deep.

you drank him in, your earlier defiance melting into a desperate, aching need. you could feel your underwear stick to you uncomfortably, shifting slighting only to have sunghoon's large body pin you against the door harder. his bulge pushing into your stomach firmer, you could feel him grind against you.

he pulled back, his breathing slightly ragged, and began to mouth down the column of your throat. his teeth scraped lightly, then bit down, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to make you cry out and arch against him. he soothed the spot with his tongue before sucking hard, leaving a brand you knew would bloom purple.

he admired his work, then the dizzy, wrecked look on your face. "look at you. all that fire, reduced to this." his free hand slid down, grabbing the hem of your shirt. "all those essays about my emotional incompetence," he said, tugging the fabric up. you shivered as cool air hit your stomach.

"all that time you spent thinking about me." the shirt went over your head, discarded somewhere on the floor. his eyes raked over your bra. "and for what? to end up here."

"you're—you're still insufferable," you managed to pant, even as you pressed your chest toward him—urging him to take it off.

"i know," he said, his fingers deftly finding the clasp of your bra. it came undone. "and you're still obsessed." the bra straps slid down your arms, still trapped in his grasp. he let go of your wrists just long enough to pull the garment away and toss it aside. immediately, his hand returned, clamping back down.

you used your momentary freedom to grab the bottom of his hoodie, pushing it up. he helped, releasing you to yank it and his shirt off in one impatient move.

then he was back on you, skin to searing skin. he was a biter, just as you'd imagined. his mouth latched onto the swell of your breast, teeth grazing your nipple before he sucked it deep.

you cried out, your head thumping back against the door. "if you can do it," you gasped, twisting to reach his shoulder with your mouth. you sank your teeth into the hard muscle there, a retaliatory claim. "then i can too."

"fuck." he groaned, the sound vibrating through your entire body. you think you just gushed and ruined your panties.

a competition of marks began. he left a trail of bruises and blooming red patches down your chest, over your ribs. you reciprocated on his neck, his collarbone, his pectoral, each bite earning a sharper gasp or a low, approving growl from him.

the pain was a bright, sharp pleasure, a physical manifestation of all your tangled, furious energy. suddenly, he was pushing you down. a firm hand on your shoulder guided you to your knees on the cold tile.

you looked up at him, dazed. he loomed over you, his expression one of dark, predatory amusement. he undid his belt buckle, the click obscenely loud in the small room.

"i wonder," he mused, his voice thick, "how much shit you can talk with your mouth full of me."

he popped the button of his jeans, lowered the zipper. the outline of his cock straining against his boxers made your mouth water. "hands behind your back," he ordered.

you hesitated, glaring up at him. with a frustrated noise, you reached for his waistband. he caught your wrist instantly. "ah-ah." his other hand came up and delivered a firm, almost casual pat against your cheek. it wasn't a hard slap, but it was a stinging, dominant correction that made your eyes widen and your clit throb. "i said, no hands."

swallowing your pride, you leaned forward. you nuzzled against the fabric of his boxers, feeling the hard heat beneath. using your teeth, you caught the elastic waistband and tugged it down, revealing him.

he was thick and fully hard, the tip already glistening. you licked a slow stripe from base to tip, looking up at him through your lashes. his jaw tightened as you took him into your mouth, slowly, relishing the salty, clean taste of him, the way his hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk.

he let you set the pace for a moment, his hands fisting in your hair. "that's it," he breathed, his composure fraying. "all that attitude... fucking gone." you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, until he hit the back of your throat.

you relaxed, letting him slide further, tears pricking your eyes. the rhythm became faster, harder, driven by the soft, choked sounds he was making above you. his grip in your hair tightened, guiding you.

you could feel his hips shudder and his pace falter as he peered down to see his cock disappear in your mouth. he felt his chest swell just at the sight of you, eyes watering and face red.

"gonna cum," he warned, his voice ragged. you didn't pull away. with a sharp, guttural groan, he spilled hot and bitter over your tongue and across your chest, painting stripes over your skin.

he took a second to admire the mess he had made of you, your skin flushed a pretty pink with his cum coating you like icing on a cake.

he pulled you to your feet, his own legs seemingly unsteady. he pushed your pants and panties down in one rough motion, his fingers immediately finding your slick heat.

he pushed your soaked underwear aside, sliding two fingers through your folds. "so wet," he laughed, a dark, triumphant sound. he brought his glistening fingers to your lips. "and for me. after all that."

he turned you around, bending you over the sink. your reflection was a shock—flushed face, bruised lips, hair a mess, his marks covering your skin. he positioned himself behind you, one hand wrapping around your throat again, pulling you back against his chest. the other hand rubbed tight, demanding circles over your clit.

"look," he whispered harshly in your ear, nodding at the mirror. "look at how silly you look. falling apart on my fingers when just hours ago you were calling me a 'rejected sherlock holmes adaptation' on the internet." the overstimulation was maddening. pleasure coiled tight in your belly.

"the comments... were idiots," you panted, even as you pushed back against his fingers trying to get him to slip them inside your needy weeping hole.

he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. "they saw right through you." he pushed a finger inside you, then another, curling them. you gasped, your knees buckling. "admit it. you wanted this every time you picked a fight."

"i wanted to win," you moaned, the words torn from you. he hooked his fingers in you, rubbing your gummy walls while his thumb continued to rub circles against your needy clit.

"you are winning," he breathed, nipping your earlobe. "look at you. you won my full, undivided attention." he removed his fingers, and you felt the blunt, hot pressure of his cock at your entrance.

he pushed in, slowly, inch by devastating inch, filling you completely. the stretch was divine. he held you there, both of you panting, watching in the mirror. he almost came at the sight of your fucked out face, his hands gripping your waist with pressure that would surely bruise.

he began to move, a slow, filthy grind that had you seeing stars. his hand on your throat kept you upright, the other hand sliding around to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. "beg for it," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours in the reflection. "beg me to let you cum."

you didn't answer, trying to avoid his gaze in the mirror only for a particularly rough thrust and his blunt nails digging into your face to swiftly put you back in your place.

"no," you gritted out, even as your body shook. he spanked you once, hard, on the ass cheek. the sharp sting made you cry out and clench around him. "beg."

"sunghoon—"

another spank. his fingers on your clit became relentless. you were so close, teetering on the edge, but he held you there, his thrusts measured and deep.

"you're so stubborn. just like online. all that typing." he punctuated each word with a thrust. "just. give. in." the pleasure was a tidal wave, held back by his will alone. you were so overstimulated, so desperate, your pride the only thing left. he leaned forward, his mouth at your ear. "come on, sweetheart. let go. tell me you need it."

as much as it killed you to beg, it also killed you to not cum all over his stupidly thick cock. you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten up as you try to push yourself back to meet his strong and unrelenting thrusts.

sunghoon smirks when he notices your desperation, slowing down on purpose. "c'mon, sweetheart. you don't wanna cum f'me?"

the pet name, the raw need in his own voice, broke you. "please," you sobbed, the word barely audible. "please, sunghoon, let me cum."

"good girl," he purred, and his rhythm became punishing and his fingers began to rub punishingly against your swollen clit. "now."

the orgasm ripped through you, blinding and violent. you screamed, your body convulsing around him as he fucked you through it, his own groans joining yours.

you felt his warm cum flood your cunt as you twitched with the aftershocks of your high.  he watched you fall apart in the mirror, his expression one of fierce, possessive satisfaction.

as your spasms began to subside, he slowed, still buried deep inside you. he was breathing heavily against your neck.

he planted soft kisses on your shoulder blade and neck, his dick still in you—twitching. your body trembled slightly, refusing to look into the mirror because then you would see the aftermath of what sunghoon had done to you.

the silence afterward felt strange.

not awkward. not exactly.

just... different.

like something between you had shifted permanently and neither of you quite knew how to deal with it yet.

the fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead while rain tapped faintly against the tiny washroom window. your heart still hadn't calmed down properly, which was deeply irritating considering park sunghoon looked entirely too composed standing in front of you when you had finally found your guts to look.

his dark hair was messy now, lips pink from kissing you. his body was covered in a thin layer of sweat that gave his pale skin a beautiful glow.

which—you immediately looked away.

absolutely not.

sunghoon noticed, of course. he noticed everything.

"you're quiet," he said softly.

you scoffed weakly, body twitching when you feel sunghoon grow hard in you. "this is emotionally traumatic for me."

the corner of his mouth lifted, that stupid almost-smile again. except now it looked softer somehow and less smug.

you attempted to move only for his body to keep you caged between the sink and him. you looked down for a moment to see his cum that had escaped from you dripping down your thigh, a shaky breath leaving your bruised lips.

"don't look at me like that."

"like what?"

"like you just won something, you didn't win shit."

sunghoon leaned back lightly against the door of the washroom eyes still fixed on you. "maybe i did."

your stomach flipped and you frowned immediately, just because you two fucked doesn't mean that you would admit defeat to sunghoon and his annoying antics. "you're so annoying."

"you keep saying that."

"because you keep being annoying."

sunghoon laughed quietly under his breath, shaking his head slightly. the sound hit you straight in the chest in the most irritating way imaginable.

silence settled again for a moment, except this time it didn't feel sharp or tense like your usual arguments.

it felt warm, which was arguably more terrifying.

your eyes narrowed suddenly. "sunoo is never letting me live this down."

sunghoon's smile widened immediately. "he already thought you liked me."

"he's delusional."

"mhm."

you pointed at him instantly. "stop doing that."

"doing what?" he snickers as he finally pulls out, a small whimper escaping your parted lips and sunghoon swears he could cum from that little sound alone.

"that fake calm thing."

"it's not fake."

"that somehow makes it worse."

sunghoon pushed himself off of you before turning you around so your back faced the mirror and stepped closer again.

not cornering you this time, just close enough that your pulse started acting stupid all over again. his gaze dropped briefly to your mouth, then your thighs that were trembling before returning to your eyes.

"so what now?" he asked quietly, his hands coming out to grab on to your hips.

you folded your arms tighter, defensive reflex.

"what do you mean."

"are you still gonna argue with me in class?"

you stared at him like that was the dumbest question ever asked.

"obviously."

sunghoon laughed softly. "figured."

"just because i fucked you doesn't mean your opinions suddenly got better."

"ouch."

"you still sound pretentious."

"and you still interrupt me constantly."

"because you're wrong constantly."

sunghoon shook his head, smiling now. his hand reaching down to push the cum that was trailing down your inner thigh back up—rubbing your swollen cunt with his remnants.

you squeaked out at the feeling, grabbing a hold of his wrist as he watched you with a lazy smile. you hated how much better he looked when he smiled properly.

your phone buzzed loudly against the counter beside you.

then again and again.

you looked down at the endless reddit notifications flooding your screen and groaned dramatically.

"i genuinely hate everyone on that app." sunghoon glanced at your phone before looking back at you, his fingers leaving your cunt to rest back on your hips again much to your dismay.

amusement flickered across his face immediately. "they were pretty accurate though."

"don't start."

"'enemies to lovers' seemed popular."

"they're unemployed."

sunghoon laughed again and you stared at him suspiciously for a second, then narrowed your eyes. "you know this is all your fault."

"interesting argument."

"you replied first."

"you made the post first."

"because you're irritating."

"and yet here you are."

your face heated instantly, sunghoon noticed. his expression softened slightly after that, teasing fading into something quieter.

more careful, he looked at you for a long second close enough that your heartbeat immediately betrayed you again. then, with that same smug little smile returning to his mouth, he tilted his head slightly and murmured, "so."

you narrowed your eyes immediately. "so what."

sunghoon's gaze held yours, steady, amused and dangerously warm.

"do you still think i'm the asshole?"

— enjoy this fic? check out my other ones right here!

[intromortal]

⭑ INCH BY INCH ⸻ park sunghoon

you have a boyfriend gifted with a pornstar cock, but he refuses to use it on you, too scared he'll end up hurting you. so your best shot is to devise a plan to get him to crumble, and even if things don't unfold quite as expected, what matters is the result anyway... right?

starring ⋆ f!reader x park sunghoon, besties!jaykewon

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ barely any plot, way too much smut, sunghoon being diabolically hung, my extremely poor attempts at humor, established relationship, nasty nasty shit... brat tamer sunghoon, alcohol consumption, implied driving under the influence, jealousy, slut shaming (not from hoon), a tiny bit of violence, blood, size & bulge kink, fingering, dry humping, slight degradation, partially clothed sex, a freaky voice message, edging & overstim, oral (f!rec), mutual masturbation, lube, squirting, unprotected sex ⸻ rules m.list

length ⋆ one shot ⸻ 23.6k words

⭑ NIA ⸻ i'm in pain and my period is abt to start ANDD antibiotics fucked my stomach up so if you see typos no you don't. anyways. big fat cock. who agrees!! shoutout to my homies vivi and stella for putting up with my ass and deactivation threats anytime i write anything ever!!! and for having read this before anyone else

Having a dick so big multiple people suggest you make a career out of it isn't half as nice as it sounds, Sunghoon would know that better than anyone.

Even before getting any experience, he'd been aware of just how comically large his dick was. He'd known ever since he had to go out of his way to search for porn with ‘massive cock!’ in the title for it to look anything like his, and even then he often found himself thinking they had to be exaggerating a bit for the sake of clicks.

Turns out, the comparison with real life average sizes is even more ridiculous.

He knows it sounds silly, there are hordes of men out there that would pay good money to swap places with him—his dear friend Jake being the first in line.

Sunghoon still cringes when he remembers the first time he'd oh so innocently asked Jake for his opinion on the matter. Truthfully, all he wanted to hear from his bleached blonde friend was some reassurance, maybe how it was all in his head, or how at the end of the day the right person would love and appreciate every part of him no matter what, or whatever you tell people in situations like these. His first mistake was believing Jake out of all his friends would do the most tactful thing.

“That thing’s like—fucking huge!” Jake shrieked, grabbing Sunghoon’s phone out of his hands, every protest falling on deaf ears. “There’s no fucking way, man.”

“It’s not that b—” Sunghoon tries to speak, but Jake stops him before he even gets a sentence in, calling Jay’s name at the top of his lungs. 

“What are you—”

“WHAT,” Jay yells back from the kitchen, over the deafening sound of the food processor in use, annoyed by Jake’s continuous interruptions that day. Of which at least four were to show him some nasty looking recipe he found on tiktok.

“You gotta come take a look at this!”

At the time, Sunghoon was still vaguely uncomfortable around Jay. He was nice enough, and he was a great roommate, so there was that at least. It was a good trade off because the other option was staying at the way too crowded shitty dorms, and he liked the privacy that this deal got him. He wasn't always on board with it, Jake had to talk him into it when high school ended, but he swore him and Jay would be the bestest of friends if only he could let his reservations behind for a little, at least give him a chance.

Sunghoon moved away halfway through the second year of high school, and for a while it felt like Jay had swapped places with him and taken the life he was supposed to live for himself. First his best friend, Jake. Then the girl of his dreams, the one he never found the courage to confess to, you.

Thing is, while Sunghoon could recognize Jay had done absolutely nothing wrong to him per se, he still felt betrayed by him in a way. Truly it was just envy.

The food processor comes to an abrupt halt, and all that can be heard from the other room is a deep sigh, followed by the sound of dragged footsteps as their tall friend walks into the messy—in the way only college boys living spaces can be—living room with resignation. “Fine. But this better have nothing to do with Cheetos or tacos.” 

“Much better.” Jake winks at him, nudging Sunghoon’s hands away with his elbow, the younger hissing in pain. “Behold,” he turns the phone towards an unassuming Jay, aware of the fact he's about to change the older's view of Sunghoon forever.“Sunghoon’s monster of a cock.”

Jay’s hands stop on his apron, (the ridiculous one with a bodybuilder torso and cheetah boxers Jungwon got him for a secret Santa) and his mouth hangs open for a second too long, before he comes back to his senses and notices how Sunghoon slumps back on the couch, cheeks burning red. Jay swats the phone out of Jake’s hand. “What the fuck is your problem, dude.”

“What? I’m just saying it’s way larger than average!”

“He’s uncomfortable.” Jay says, going back to drying his hands on the apron. “Leave him be.”

This only makes Sunghoon’s cheeks redder, his ears a bright pink too. Jake scoffs, eyeing him suspiciously. “Sure. I’m sure having a porn star cock must be so mortifying. Who even complains about stuff like this?” he snickers before making his voice a pitch higher. “‘Poor me! My dick’s too heavy! What will I do!”

“Oh my god,” Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, pulling the ends a bit. “It is not that big.” He looks at Jay for support, expecting him to disagree with Jake.

Jay’s gaze falters to his pants for a split second. His mouth twists but he remains silent.

“Not you too.” Sunghoon's hands now hold his face as he sinks into the cushions further, legs spreading. “Just say what you wanna say.”

“I mean…” Jay gestures towards Sunghoon's crotch. “I suspected you were big but… that’s crazy, man.”

“It’s not that cra—”

“Yes it is! You’ve got a fucking gas storage tank in your pants and you wanna sit here and tell us it’s not crazy?” Jake says, exasperated by that point. “And stop playing dumb. It’s big. That’s good. I’m sure the ladies go crazy over it. Or the gentlemen. Or whoever it is you fuck.” He kisses his teeth, muttering under his breath. “Lucky bastard.”

“Jake’s right, Hoon. I don’t know why you're so… negative about it. It's a good thing."

“I wouldn’t know,” Sunghoon mutters under breath, more to himself than to the guys, but it’s still loud enough for them to catch it.

“Oh? Then whenever the time comes, you’ll see how much they’ll love it,” Jay says.

"I'm just worried." Sunghoon tries his best to avoid both sets of eyes staring intently at him. "What… what if I end up hurting someone?"

Jake coos, then moves closer to Sunghoon on the couch, his breath fanning over his ear as he whispers, “Always so concerned about other people. Aren't you such a cutie pie?”

The boys weren't exactly wrong, but with big dick come great responsibilities—as Jake said. Yup, roll your eyes at him, not Sunghoon. He's innocent—like having to finger and eat out your partners for what feels like an eternity before even trying to push the tip in, which is not exactly the best situation to be in as a virgin. Current Sunghoon thinks that's the best part, but it took a while to get here.

Sunghoon has always been a very patient man though, a gentle giant in every sense of the phrase. The last thing he would ever want to do is inflict pain accidentally on another human being.

When he got his first actual girlfriend, he'd been so nervous and honestly quite scared to have sex with her. So he got on Google whenever he had free time to study ways to make it as comfortable as possible, watching all kinds of video explanations or reading through feminine pleasure blogs written by women for women specifically, because that's where Jay told him the good stuff was at.

By the time he got to actually have sex with her, his mind was so overwhelmed by all this information that he essentially forgot how to even think. It was anything but romantic, so deeply embarrassing Sunghoon still cringes even after all this time when his mind betrays him and reminds him of it while trying to fall asleep at night.

And then, to add insult to injury, his girlfriend cheated on him and left him for this guy she'd only just met, because 'it might not be as big, but at least he knows how to use it'.

Heartbroken and with an hurt ego, Sunghoon did that thing all boys do when their first relationship doesn't work out: hit the gym and promise themselves they're never gonna fall in love ever again.

That second part ended up failing, because from the moment you showed up at his doorstep to visit (your now ex boyfriend, but a beloved friend nonetheless) Jay and Jake, five different bags around you, with eyes as big as saucers and staring at him like he had invaded his own apartment, all the feelings younger Sunghoon had for you hit him like a brick to his nape all over again.

You two dating came as a shock to everyone around you, mostly because while you were aware of Park Sunghoon's existence and vice versa, you'd never given it too much thought. You remembered him as the scrawny kid with the cute moles from math that you used to always catch staring. He was often around Jungwon because they were neighbors, but was way too shy to even say hi to you. That, and he was also always around Jake—who you were not exactly fond of, given his reputation—so you steered clear of him when you could manage to.

Then, when the third year of high school started, you stopped seeing him around, and Jungwon told you he had moved away to follow his dad's business. You wouldn't admit it at the time but the hallways seemed duller than usual for a few days, but that probably was also due to Jake not being as loud and energetic with his best friend gone.

Last year of high school, you went on a few dates with Jay from history class, and while he was the closest you have ever thought a man to be perfect, you both agreed you worked better as friends than anything more. Usually that means 'you're cool but I'm gonna try my best to not have to say hi to you if I see you around', but Jay is so wonderful, you actually kept in touch and became quite close, even if platonically.

By the time the year ended, you had a very tight group of friends consisting of yourself, Jungwon, Jay, and even Jake—who, for the record, isn't nearly as bad as all the crazy rumors make him out to be. It saddened you that it took so long to find your group, but you were grateful you had one nonetheless, a lot of people never get that luxury, so you weren't about to let a little graduation get in between you all. You spent a good five days consoling Jake that no, no one was going anywhere and yes, you will all be best friends for life.

But then college started, and it became difficult to stay in touch because Jay and Jake had to move. Jake reassured you that you and Jungwon would be more than welcome to visit and stay over at their apartment—which you found funny because that is technically not Jake's apartment at all, at least not until Hoon moved in too and the three of them started sharing the costs, but he has a way of making every place he steps foot in his, like he's meant to be there, so Jay let it slide.

So the first thing you did when you finally had some free time was getting on the cheapest flight available to go visit your friends. Heavy luggage in hand and stained sweatpants on, you were dumbfounded when the one who opened the door for you was none other than Park Sunghoon, and not Jay like you expected.

He was no longer the shy kid you remembered him to be, and he had grown nicely into his features, his hair now a jet back instead of the brown you were accustomed to see. Over those two weeks you realized that while you have know Sunghoon all your life, you had never really seen him, and it made you want to go back in time and hand a little paper note to the shy boy always staring at you during class.

Your head sinks further into your pillow with a whine, the case enveloping it sporting gray spots of wetness, where your tears and drool had accumulated over the last torturous half an hour Sunghoon spent fucking you open with his fingers. You don't know what he means, because you feel like you could take his entire fist by now, that's how wet you are. If your pillowcase is such a mess, you don't even wanna think about what your bed sheets look like.

"I can– take you," you protest, breath hitching mid sentence at a particularly deep curl of his fingers inside you.

"Yeah?" Sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you, moving his thumb to suddenly hover over your clit. It's not a full touch, nor does he really move it from there, but just the expectation of it has your walls involuntary flutter around his digits. A wicked grin overtakes his face, in a way you think it would clash with his prince-like features. But it looks right at home on him, the canines poking out only adding to his devilish charm.

"Then what's this? Gripping me even tighter," he says against your lips again, like he can't pick between kissing you or speaking, like anything he does he needs to do it with your taste on his mouth. He shakes his head, pouting at you before you get the chance to retort. "Squeeze me this tight when I'm inside you, and I'll believe you're trying to push me out, baby."

The press of his length against your thigh doesn't help, and when your eyes roll to the back of your head, half the reason is the new spot he's now reaching making you see stars, the other is your frustration with him. You know he's huge, and you know he cares about your comfort above all, but a little sting as he bottoms out inside you would be a hundred times better than the 'prep' he's subjecting you to. It took so long to even get here, and now he plans on making you wait even more? You have half the idea to push him off of you and get on top of him, take what's yours. If he's not gonna believe you can take him, you might as well just show him.

Of course, that wouldn't work, because Sunghoon is infinitely stronger than you are and the only thing you would accomplish is looking stupid thrashing under him as he keeps you pinned down. Probably with one arm only too, to really get his point across.

"Add another finger then." There's a certain bark in your tone that makes him chuckle. That's all it is: bark and no bite. You can do nothing but demand, and demand, and demand again, but if he's not willing to give it to you, there is close to nothing you can do about it. And it makes Sunghoon's cock twitch against the slick skin of your thighs. He loves knowing he has you at his mercy.

"Woah!" he gasps, and the fake surprise only irritates you further. Or at least that's what you tell yourself, because Sunghoon doesn't miss the way you clench around his fingers whenever he talks to you like this. "Missy, you're so bratty today… where are your manners?"

The retort is ready on your tongue, but the words mold into a surprised hiss when he actually prods your hole with a third digit, feeling around for a way to slowly ease it into you. You fear it won't be as easy as you hoped, but you also don't want to back down now that he's giving in.

"Just put it in." You angle your hips to give Sunghoon easier access.

"Easy there." He leans back on his knees, and you hate how you're so needy. Even when he's still so close, fingers pumping in and out of you at a torturous pace, you crave for every inch of your body to be touched by his, for your breaths to mingle for as long as possible. You wonder how it's possible to miss someone who's right in front of you, but your heart yearns to hear the rhythmic beat of his own against your chest all the same.

You don't get to dwell on it too long, because the sensation of something wet dribbling right where Sunghoon's fingers meet you rips you out of your thoughts.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize what's happening, but when it sinks in, your mouth slowly hangs open in a moan, eyes closed to relish the feeling.

"You like that?" Sunghoon asks, and for once you can't bring yourself to care about the cockiness in his tone. In fact, it's the last thing you could care about—not when his digits are working to spread his spit all over you, and his third finger is slowly making its way inside you right next to the others. It's a tight fit, and Sunghoon can't really move his fingers like he wishes to, but it'll do for now. He can always do it over and over again until you're ready, as long as you keep making those faces for him. "Look at you," he continues. "You were so demanding earlier, now you're falling apart and I'm barely just getting started."

You clench around him hard, body all tensed up as you accommodate the sudden change in thickness.

Sunghoon bends down again when he notices you're not easing up, trailing his way back up your body with pecks, giving you a few on your lips once he reaches your face. "Does it burn, baby?" he asks, the playful edge in his tone from earlier completely gone, smoothed down to the usual soft timbre you love so much. "Do you want me to take it out? I'll make you cum with two fingers, it's okay."

You shake your head. The stretch does burn, but you also want to prove to him that you can take him.

"You sure?" The murmur vibrates against your ear, the sound of his voice close enough to have you arching your back, pushing your stomach against his harder figure. If you had any sort of reservation about continuing, it's totally gone now. His insistence to make you comfortable always ignites pure want in you.

You nod, but your eyes are still screwed shut because of the burn, so it's not enough for Sunghoon to let go yet.

He slows down his movements, trying to help you out, but the whine you let out is enough to let him know you actually want what he's giving you and more. Still, he needs to hear it. "Use your big girl words, I know you can."

"Wanna keep going."

"Aaand?"

"Please, Hoon." You know you're far gone when you don't even care about how whiny you sound, you would get onto your knees and beg if he asked you to right then. You would want to forget about it right after, but still, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is very nice to you, so 'please and thank you's are enough to keep him satiated, at least for now.

"Good girl."

The praise goes straight to your cunt, further tightening the grip you have on his fingers. Sunghoon is flattered, but that's not what you need in that moment. So he reminds you.

"Take deep breaths, baby. It's only gonna hurt more if you don't ease up."

"Hoon, want more."

"I know baby, I know. But it'll feel better if you stop tensing up. Here, follow my breaths and let go." He kisses both of your shut eyelids. "Eyes on me, pretty. Okay?"

You obey him like it's second nature, but when you open your eyes and you're met with the downright angelic sight of your boyfriend, black strands of hair framing his face and his chain dangling slightly from his neck, you don't understand how you're supposed to calm down. He starts taking deep breaths, ones you try your best to mirror. And despite what you thought, the focus on your chest rising and falling and the warmth in Sunghoon's eyes does make the stretch a lot better. You were enjoying yourself before too, all things considered. Now it's different, you're struggling to keep your sounds in, and any other time you would be mortified by how much wetness is seeping out of your cunt, but Sunghoon's presence is relaxing in a way no one else's has ever been for you.

The more you explore each other's bodies, the more you start to think that maybe, just maybe, there is not a single thing you could do with Sunghoon that you would ever regret. The safety of a judgment free zone with someone who obviously cares deeply for you makes the experience so much better than you could have ever imagined. What other people did to you, no matter how pleasurable, just didn't measure up to what Sunghoon does with you. And you haven't even gone all the way in.

"Theeere we go, see how much better it feels when you're not being a brat?"

Sunghoon is careful with you, watching your every reaction and studying your expressions so he can learn exactly what makes crumble and what brings you closer to the edge, what makes you forget you have to breathe and when to pause so he can drag your pleasure out for as long as he wants, for as long as you can handle. His cock is rock hard, casually rutting against you from time to time. You have half a mind to reach into his boxers and help him out, but you're not sure you could do a good enough job at it, not when he's starting to bend the tips of his fingers to reach right where you need him.

You can feel yourself getting closer, so you grab his wrists—whether to stop him or push him further, you don't know yourself. What you do know, is that just fingers have never felt this good before, and if you had the choice to feel like this forever, you would take it.

The sudden grip doesn't deter Sunghoon, it encourages him instead. His movements are faster, deeper, but still just as precise. It's like he already knows the ins and outs of what brings you pleasure. "Gonna come all over my hand, baby? I know you're close."

You nod desperately, throat too raw and dry to produce sounds more complex than little whines—which Sunghoon finds adorable, he can't wait to find out what sounds you make when he's splitting you open on his cock. He coos, and that alone almost makes you cum. Almost, because what really does you in is his thumb moving to finally circle your clit, really touch it.

Your body tenses up again when your vision goes a searing white, but Sunghoon's other hand finds your thighs right away to prevent you from caging his hands between your legs. He worked hard to make you cum, so you're not gonna take the sight of your fluttering pussy away from him, not when he has rightfully earned it.

"You did so well," he says, his hand caressing the skin of your inner thigh as a reminder to relax your muscles, his thumb slowing down its movement on your clit as your walls flutter around his digits at longer intervals each time.

You eventually even out your breathing, your vision still a little fuzzy, but you feel lighter and content. Once Sunghoon is sure you're okay, he pulls you in for a sweet kiss, like he wasn't just rearranging your guts with his fingers alone moments ago.

"Perfect, you're so perfect," he whispers between kisses, landing a wet smack on your nose when you scrunch it in response. "You're always gorgeous but this—fuck, you're beautiful." He keeps kissing you, each kiss waking up a different butterfly in your stomach. You feel giddy like you haven't ever since you were a kid running through the meadow on a spring evening. You giggle when he reaches the valley of your breasts, and run your fingertips through his hair, his head resting on your chest.

"I love you," Sunghoon whispers, and for the first time in your life you know those words to be true, no hidden intention behind them, no cruel joke waiting for you at the end of the line. It feels right when they're coming out of Sunghoon's mouth.

"I know, I love you t—what are you doing." It's much more of an accusation rather than a question, because you see the little wicked glint in his eyes as he resumes kissing his way down your body—first down your navel, then between your thighs.

"Showing you how much I love you, duh." He spreads your legs as open as he can get them before you start protesting again. "Besides, I haven't gotten a taste yet."

You should stop him, because suddenly you're reminded of how he still hasn't come yet, and you would feel bad to neglect him. The look in his eyes though—needy, almost feral— keeps you pinned right in your spot. "What… about you?"

Sunghoon looks at you, genuinely confused. "What about me?"

"Yeah, I should be… helping you out." You glance down at him, and the wet patch on his boxers makes you clench around nothing. Had you not witnessed first hand how messy Sunghoon can get, you would assume he cummed already. Knowing that's only pre though, makes saliva flood into your mouth at the mere thought of your boyfriend's cock pumping load after load down your throat. Screw 'not hurting' you, you would be happy gagging and choking endlessly around him if it meant you got a tiny little taste.

"Oh baby, but you are helping me out. Just lay back and let me." Sunghoon pops two of his fingers in his mouth, tasting the residues of you high still lingering on his skin, rich and divine on his tongue. "So good, now let me get a real taste."

He trails his wet fingers up your body, relishing in the way you shiver under his touch when he brushes over your nipples. He grabs your face once he reaches it, and forces you to look at him. "Wanting to please me… aren’t you such a generous girl? So, so good for me. So eager to please, you’re so cute.” He doesn't miss how your lip twitches in response to his words, and how your hand slides between your thighs and how they close around it. “But, I'm still not done.”

“But—”

“Shhh,” he silences you right away. He parts your lips with his thumb, and your response to it is immediate, sucking on it without needing to be told what to do. You swirl your tongue around his finger eagerly, as if trying to show him what he is missing by not letting you take his cock out his pants. “See? So perfect for me. Such a pretty and obedient girl, am I right?” 

You nod subconsciously, like he has you under a spell, ready to comply with anything he asks out of you. Maybe he does.

“I know that’s right.” Sunghoon takes the thumb out of your mouth, coating your lips with your own spit as he caresses them with it. “Then do what you’re told and lay back. I can fuck you another time. Now spread those legs for me mkay? Yeah, just like that. So much we can do in the meantime."

"I just don't get why he won't stick it in me."

"You have such a way with words."

You throw a fry at your best friend, only to get more irritated when he catches it midair with his mouth. Jungwon chews it loudly with his mouth open—because he knows it annoys you to death—then washes it down with his coconut milkshake that he won't let you get a sip of because 'using the same straw as me counts as cheating now that you're dating Sunghoon'.

"Okay but why? You're a man. What's the thought process behind this? Tell me."

"Girl, it's your boyfriend. You tell me."

"What if he doesn't fine me att—" A fry hits you right on your forehead, and it's like the impact activates your brain cells, because of course Sunghoon finds you attractive, that is not the problem.

"Now, let's be honest with ourselves please. None of that shit."

Your back hits the bed with a soft thud, arms spread out as you stare at the very familiar ceiling of your room. A sight you've been taking in quite often recently, while trying to come up with a plan to get Sunghoon to dick you down good.

Jungwon shoves a fist of fries in his mouth, barely chewing before speaking again. "I don't get why it's such a big deal."

You roll onto your side, facing the blonde little gremlin occupying the space next to you. "It's a big deal because— why is your ass on my pillow. Jungwon get—"

He silences you by feeding you a handful of fries from the container on his lap. "You were saying?"

You gulp them down quickly before replying, because you're civilized enough to do so, unlike someone else. "We've done it all, and I know he's scared of hurting me, but I can also tell he's holding back. I'm ready– I've been ready. It's just… whenever I think it's gonna happen he pulls back so suddenly, like he's restraining himself."

"Mhh… you've talked to him about this, right?" Jungwon looks at you in a way that feels entirely too judgmental, like skipping the communication part is something you do often enough for it to be a pattern. Something he needs to check off of a list before he gives you more advice.

He's not completely wrong. As in, at one point in your life you had made an habit out of assuming people's thoughts and intentions, but that is in the past. And those people are not your Park Sunghoon.

The polaroids messily scattered on the wall above your desk, like someone had dropped them and they'd defied gravity to stay there, glimmer as the sun starts its golden descent into the horizon. Old, more ruined around the edges ones you took right after Jungwon got you a polaroid camera with his very first salary from working at an ice cream shop over the summer. Pictures of sunsets and dumb words carved into sandy beaches, of thumbs digging into teenager Jungwon's dimples. Newer, glossier ones that you took when Sunghoon gifted you a new camera, after the one Jungwon got you finally broke down after years. You'd cried so hard that day, because it had felt like growing up.

The charger is still hidden under all the mess of receipts in your comforter's drawer, you still hope one day the pink sticker covered camera will turn on if you charge it long enough.

But some things are meant to stay in the past, and better ones are always hiding behind the corner, ready to come your way.

You aren't the young girl with the pink polaroid camera anymore, just like you're not the girl that is scared to voice her thoughts and troubles any longer.

"Of course I have."

"And?"

"Won, he just tells me I need more prep. I've had plenty of that, trust me. Like, he's spent the last month using this toy on—"

"Okay, okay I get it. I trust you, spare me the details."

"—Point is, I'm more than ready. I know it's gonna be uncomfortable and a bit painful at first, he's like… so huge it's—"

"I get it."

"—but that's a given with how big he is. I think it's just… him being nervous, really."

"Have you… tried to, uhm. Take charge? Maybe you calling the shots would make it easier for him to let loose." Jungwon looks down on his lap as he plays with the rings adorning his fingers. You wouldn't say he has ever been particularly shy per se, not when it comes to discussing your sexual life, even in heavy detail. He was the boy your mother made you take a bath with after a whole day of rolling around in dirt as a kid, because his wasn't around a lot of the time. The same boy who has seen you toothless and with horrible haircuts, who has seen all your embarrassing phases. Talking to Jungwon was much more akin to talking to yourself rather than venting to a diary, because he stored secrets in his heart that you would never be comfortable writing down on paper. Except he also calls you a dumbass when he needs to.

It's been a little different ever since you started dating Sunghoon freshly out of college, but you imagine it can't be helped since Jungwon is also very close to him.

You take a deep breath, shoulders slumping with the motion. Yeah, like that would ever work. "He doesn't give up dominance ever, really. I have tried a few times but…" you trail off, thoughts suddenly plagued with images of Sunghoon putting you back in your place instantly whenever you tried to take charge. You have already given it some thought, a lot of thought, actually. What wouldn't you do to have Sunghoon under you and at your mercy, so responsive to every touch, perhaps even tied down. Yeah, you're gonna have to bring it up more seriously to him, maybe then he would let you—

"Are you seriously fantasizing about dominating your boyfriend right in front of my cheddar fries?"

But you're gonna continue that thought another time.

"Let's see then…" Jungwon continues, evidently determined to find a solution to your problem. "Maybe act out? Would that work? Mhhh… I don't know, you're already very annoying day to day and he puts up with that…so."

Jungwon genuinely looks like he is putting so much thought into it, somehow it makes it more offensive.

"Yeah. And who grew up next to him? You. Exactly. You trained his patience, if anything," you retort, but Jungwon doesn't even give you the satisfaction of acknowledging it, because you both know that you do love to be a nuisance to your boyfriend whenever you get the chance.

"Wait." Jungwon perks up after a seconds of deep thought, making the plushies on your bed fall on the floor, but the situation is so dire that you don't scold him. Instead, you cast a hopeful glance in his direction. Please let his brain cells work for once in his life.

"Isn't Hoon like, terribly jealous every time someone brings up that time you and Jay dated in high school?"

The cogs in your brain turn, and if someone was to walk into the room at that moment they would be able to smell the fumes coming out of your and Jungwon's head.

Jungwon continues, though he doesn't need to, because you have caught what he is hinting to already. "You need him to snap? What better reason to if not some good ol' jealousy. Am I right?"

But of course he is, that little gremlin genius.

"And, it just happens that a few high school acquaintances are organizing a get together soon. You know people will bring up you and Jay, just drag Hoon along. It's fate."

"Have I ever told you that you're my bestest friend ever and that I owe you my life, Won?"

Your plan is not working out as expected.

Getting everyone on board took you and Jungwon some time, but they all eventually agreed to come along. Sunghoon himself was the one with the most reservations, since he moved away halfway through high school and he missed a good chunk of it. Most importantly, he missed how you and the others became friends in the first place, so he's always been a little bitter about it.

Calling it a plan was an overstatement. You wore a skimpy little outfit, black miniskirt and sheer thighs, and bet on someone bringing up how you and Jay used to date in front of Sunghoon. You hoped that would make him jealous enough to grab you and drag you home, maybe teach you a lesson that you would inevitably learn nothing from.

Instead, you get sulky Sunghoon with a beer in his hand, looking at you like a kicked puppy as you and Jay make conversation with your old acquaintances. It doesn't help that Jungwon refuses to pick up his phone so you two can come up with something quick to stir the night towards your desired outcome.

The call goes into voicemail again, and you sigh for the hundredth time that night as you end it and open up his chat to type in another text.

"No answer yet?" Jay asks, smoothing his pink dress shirt. He's always the classier looking guy in the room, no matter where he goes, but the hue of pink he chose for the night makes him stand out further in the sea of swarming bodies.

You shake your head. You're in a quieter corner, away from the thumping speakers, but your throat is sore after all the screaming you did over the deafening music. You thought you would get used to the volume when a few of the people at the reunion suggested moving to a club across the street to end the night with a bang, just like the old times, but it somehow got progressively worse instead.

From your side, Jake puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles to catch someone's attention, and when it doesn't work, Jay laughs at him.

"Sunghoon looks bored, I think we should call it a night," Jay says.

"Bored? He looks like he's gonna murder the next poor soul that steps too close to Y\N," Jake takes a swing of the drink he's holding, something that looks like aged whiskey. Very much unlike anything Jake would order. He hisses after the liquid burns his throat, even when diluted by the melted ice. "Jay, my man, your taste is so ass."

You give the interaction a half hearted laugh. Despite your original plan, you hate seeing Sunghoon so uncomfortable, especially when you know he only came along to make you happy. He insists he doesn't belong surrounded by people who pretend to remember who he is and keep bringing up stuff that happened in the past expecting a glint of recognition from him. You tell him there are multiple people with a similar experience to his even when they attended all years, you tell him he belongs anywhere as long as you and the other guys are there. He tells you those are the people that don't get invited to these sort of events.

"It's getting late anyway, maybe we should just go," you say, checking your notification bar for any sign of life from Jungwon. Still nothing.

"I'll go get Won." Jake throws back the remaining drink, scrunching his eyes and hissing at the bitter taste he still isn't accustomed to.

You take a second to scan your surroundings, and the swaying mass of sweaty bodies makes you nauseous. You used to love getting rocked back and forth by the music, uncaring for a single thing in the world if not the overwhelming love you felt for everyone and everything around you when alcohol buzzed through your system. When you were younger, it felt like ibuprofen for your soul. Now, it only amplifies the hurt in your chest when you think about how heavy this night must have been for your boyfriend.

Before you can make your way to him, someone grabs your attention.

"Jay! And you over there, it's been a while."

You instinctively turn towards the loud voice, finding a vaguely familiar face cockily grinning in your direction.

"She has a name." Jay takes a deep breath and gives you a look, his jaw tense, and that alone is enough to let you know right away the guy in front of you is nothing but trouble.

The guy continues as if you weren't even there to listen to the conversation. A ghost. "Doesn't matter, being your girlfriend is all she was known for back then." He takes a swing of his beer, taste as bitter as his voice. He's very obviously drunk out of his mind, words slurring and step unsteady, but his words annoy you anyway.

"Excuse m—" you try to interject, but he speaks right over you.

"You two back together?"

Jay looks like he's seconds away from punching him, but you simply shake your head no. "Oh! No, and I'm not single actually. My boyfriend's here—" you turn around to look for Sunghoon where you last saw him, and beam when you find him right as he walks up to you. His shoulders relax just the tiniest bit when he notices how relieved you look when you meet his gaze, the way you reserve that look to him only, the way you light up as soon as you spot him. "There he is! Perfect timing, baby."

Sunghoon slides a hand around your waist possessively, placing a soft kiss to your temple to really get the point across. "I was looking for you."

Truth is, he wasn't. He had his eyes on you the entire time, but you were playing with your rings and kept readjusting your clothes as the conversation was unfolding, and Jay looked uneasy too, so he figured nothing good was being said.

"Yeah, sorry! Just catching up with friends from back in the day. Y'know, reminiscing and stuff. Have you seen Won around?" You want to diffuse the situation before the idiot in front of you says anything he might regret. You want Hoon to be a little jealous, not for him to get you all kicked out of a party because someone decided to run their mouth a little too much. Your hand finds his exposed biceps, and it looks like he made the right choice by stepping in, because now that he is all up in your space, you're visibly more comfortable.

Sunghoon shakes his head. Last time he caught a sight of Jungwon in the crowded space was when the night had barely started, and he wore a cowboy hat as he shoved his tongue down some girl's throat. Good for him. "He's probably… catching up with acquaintances too."

You look like you are about to say something, but the nameless guy interrupts you before you get a single word out. It gives Sunghoon all the more reason to dislike him, even before he listens to what he has to says. "And you are? I don't recall seeing you around."

"Oh! Hoon just moved to a different school halfway through high school, but we're all friends," Jay replies instead, familiar with his best friend's feelings about his high school years.

"Then why is he here?"

Sunghoon's jaw clenches. You squeeze his arm as if to remind him you are next to him, and he melts instantly into your touch.

"I'm here because my girl and my friends are. Now if you'd be so kind, we are trying to have a nice night, and you're interfering with that." Sunghoon turns around, holding you against his chest as he starts to make his way to the bar to grab another beer.

"Yeah? You know your friend and your girl used to fuck? Maybe they still do."

Sunghoon was raised to be a patient man. One that counts to ten before reacting, a man who wouldn't even hurt a fly. So it must be the alcohol fueling his actions, because before he realizes what he is doing, he grabs the guy by his shirt, knuckles white as a ghost making the material wrinkle in his hold. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Sunghoon knows he is being provoked, but not even Jay trying to step between them can do anything to calm his anger, not when the poor bastard spits on his shirt, then says something that he really shouldn't have.

"I mean look at her." The man laughs, and it's bitter, filled with something more sinister than mere disgust. It's envy. "Are you surprised? She's dressed like a whore."

Sunghoon moves before you have the time to grab him, right fist colliding with so much force against the man's face, his lip breaks on contact. He wobbles a bit, hit taking him by surprise, but he just gathers the blood dripping inside his mouth and spits it by Sunghoon's feet.

"Hey! Hey." Jay grabs the guy's arm, roughly yanking him back as a crowd of people starts to notice the commotion, heading to take a look at what's happening, a few bodyguards included.

"So tough," the man starts a laughs interrupted by winching when his broken lip curls too much. "Take that out on your so called friend—"

Your voice drowns out the rest of the sentence. "Baby, please."

Sunghoon looks at you, and for a second you doubt he sees you. There's so much anger in his eyes, like he wants nothing more than to rip the little bitch in front of him to pieces. They're almost unfamiliar in a way that send shivers down your spine. You hate the fact that you can't tell if it's fear or lust. But the storm behind his gaze clears out for a second when he sees the alarm on your pretty face, just the one you need. "I wanna go home."

No matter the anger coursing through Sunghoon's bloodstream like venom, thick black poison inciting him to turn back and finish the job, his conscience always prioritizes your well being and what you want. So when you take his hand a make a beeline for the exit, he follows without a single complaint.

The car ride back home is uncomfortably silent.

Sunghoon doesn't hum the random tune playing on the radio like he usually does, he doesn't hold your thigh nor does he even spare you a glance, and you start worrying he might be mad at you.

The words said about you earlier sting, but they don't hold a candle next to Sunghoon's silence. You want to speak up, fill the void that is so uncharacteristically awkward, but the words die in your throat the second you try to push them out.

A ding! followed by your phone screen lighting up signals a new notification, and you swipe through your phone to find out if Jungwon has finally made his existence known.

It's a text from Jay. You notice how Sunghoon's eyes dart to your phone for a split second before going back to focusing on the road ahead, his jaw twitching under the street lights.

00:27 AM. Jongie <3: You guys made it home yet?

00:28 AM. you: not yet, you? did you find the others?

Last thing you heard as you dragged Sunghoon out of the club was Jay arguing with both the still nameless guy and two bodyguards who had been notified of commotion next to the bar. Your main goal was to get your boyfriend the hell out of there before he broke someone's face in, but now that you're away from the mess and the dizziness from the alcohol has started to die down, leaving your muscles and bones tired, you worry for your friends too.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Heading back now, Jake texted me he found Won.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Wasted, ofc. But apparently Jake's taking care of him now.

00:31 AM. you: don't know if i like the sound of that. will they ever let us back in there?

00:33 AM. Jongie <3: Yeah no chance, Won won't be happy when he finds out.

00:35 AM. you: how did him and jake even get home?

You lock your phone for good after Jay confirms Jake mumbled something about a really nice girl with a great rack driving them home, deciding you'll deal with their bullshit another day, when you're completely sober and not worried about what your unusually silent boyfriend might be thinking.

Just in time for Sunghoon to pull into his driveway. He doesn't remind you to take your bag with you as he always does, he doesn't wait for you to be out of the car before heading straight towards his front door. Truth be told, you're more shocked he didn't just drop you off at your own apartment because now you're really sure he must be upset with you.

It's dumb, really. What that guy said is anything but your fault. But your panicked mind makes up scenarios in which Sunghoon knows you wanted to make him jealous, wanted to get a reaction out of him for something as silly as getting him to properly fuck you. It convinces you he has every right to be upset.

His hand twitches in pain for a second while unlocking the door, dried blood—both his and not—staining his pristine knuckles, and it only aids in making you feel worse. You follow him through the entrance, and he waits for you to walk inside before locking the door for the night. It's now or never.

It takes all the courage you can find within yourself to speak, and still your voice comes out uneven, shaky, things your voice has never been when talking to Park Sunghoon. "I'm really, really sorry."

He turns back to you like you just said the most shocking sentence he's ever heard in his life, and he quickly grabs you by your hips when he notices just how scared you look. He quickly realizes you must've mistaken his silent attempt at calming down his anger at the situation for coldness towards you for some reason, and his heart breaks a little at the thought of having made you doubt yourself. When he answers, it's the softest you've ever heard him. "What for, pretty girl?"

Tears well in your eyes when you fail to find the words. You're sorry for so many things, you don't even know where to start. You're sorry for dragging him somewhere he didn't even wanna be in the first place, sorry for taking advantage of his kindness for your own benefit, you're sorry his knuckles are raw and bloodied just because he had to defend you. Above all, you're sorry for being so damn selfish.

Sunghoon carefully caresses your face with his clean hand, so none of that bastard's blood goes anywhere near your pretty features. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip like it's second nature, silently waiting for you to say what's on your mind. He searches your gaze, but you're too busy trying to not burst into tears right there in front of him, so he lowers his hand to your jaw and gently angles your head upwards.

His eyes are kind and warm, no hint of the searing coldness they held mere minutes ago. "None of what happened today is your fault," he speaks slowly, sincerely. He makes sure every single word leaving his lips is loud and clear, no room for misunderstanding or doubt. Sunghoon is smart, he knows you like no one ever has put in the effort to. "I'm sorry if I made you doubt yourself back there, I should've said something. I'm sorry." He sounds secure and confident in what he's saying, but the little unsteady breath and the sharp swallow that come right after betray him. His hand slightly trembles on your skin, and it makes your heart sink even more.

Something else to add to the list. You're also sorry for making Sunghoon feel guilty over your emotions when he never did anything wrong to begin with.

You still struggle to speak, especially when Sunghoon is looking into your eyes as one would towards the light shining through the water surface after holding their breath in far too long, like it means being able to breathe again. There's a devotion in him you've never seen, something actors on a stage cannot replicate, something you don't think words to describe it have been spoken out yet. Something purely unique to you and him.

When your words fail you, you show him your own devotion in a different way.

There's a medication kit Sunghoon got forever ago solely to patch up Jake and Won whenever their Jake and Won antics get them hurt (very often, comically often). Never in your life would you have imagined Sunghoon to be on the receiving end of the care, but here you are.

Sunghoon follows you wordlessly to the couch, giving no protest when you point to sit down while you take your spot next to him.

The saline stings as you carefully clean the wound, but Sunghoon makes no show of it. You finally have a reason to look at somethings else other than his eyes as you gather your thoughts, but he doesn't lose sight of the frown deepening on your face.

Sunghoon watches you intently through his now messy bangs as you hold his bigger hand in yours as if it were made out of the most precious, frail glass. His fingers are way thicker than yours are, but you brush against his knuckles with the cotton just as softly as he kisses your forehead seconds before you let yourself be taken by slumber in his arms every night. He sees all the expressions fluttering on your face, he gives you the time he knows you need. He knows there's something you need to get off your chest.

When the blood stains the cotton instead of his skin, you speak up, "Does it hurt?"

Sunghoon hums in disagreement, the sound dry in his throat. You press into the raw skin a little harder, earning a low hiss from him. "Don't lie to me. We don't lie to each other."

"We don't, but you're hiding something from me." He stops before continuing, his voice a mere whisper, "what's wrong?"

"You got hurt because of me."

"That's not—"

"Yes you did." And once the river of words tumbling out of your mouth starts, it can't be stopped any longer. "I know how you feel about high school and—"

"It's not that—"

"But it is. I don't care if it was five years ago or ten or fifteen, I know you feel a certain way about it and don't lie to me to spare my feelings because it makes me only feel worse. You feel a way about it and I still went out of my way to take advantage of it for such a stupid reason and now I feel like a fucking idiot. And it also got you hurt."

"Baby," Sunghoon says after a moment of quiet, only filled by your heavy breathing. "Hey."

You busy yourself by grabbing the gauze in the little med kit next to you, but you make the mistake of glancing at him for a second, and the little smile dancing on his lips keeps your eyes glued to the sight.

"It's only a few scratches. What's all this really about?"

"I just… fuck, I'm never living this down." You stretch the white bandage over Sunghoon's wound, wrapping it a few times to fully secure it. You take a deep breath, buying yourself more time by inspecting your boyfriend's fingers like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen in your life. He playfully taps his index against your palm. It makes you smile despite your best efforts not to. "I just wanted to make you jealous."

You say it so quietly even Sunghoon, barely inches away from you, almost misses it. Almost, because you hear the teasing in his tone loud and clear. "Jealous?"

Cat's out of the bag anyway, so you might as well explain yourself. "Before you say anything, Won gave me the idea."

"Of course."

"I just, y'know. Best friend stuff," you say, as if it's the answer to everything.

"Best friend stuff… as in?" Sunghoon keeps prodding, and the faint smile you hear as he speaks without having to take a look at him simultaneously makes you want to grin and roll your eyes at him. You bite your inner cheek instead.

"As in… complaining about my boyfriend…"

"Oh, you must have so much to complain about."

"Well, for starters, my boyfriend doesn't want to fuck me—"

Sunghoon erupts in a fits of boyish giggles when he finally figures out what's going on, delighted to see how embarrassed you are by this whole ordeal. He grabs you by your hips and sits you right on top of his lap so suddenly you let out a little shriek of surprise. "Trust me, your boyfriend would love nothing more than to fuck you through the mattress."

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and you lower your chest against his, noses brushing each other. "Then what's stopping him?"

Sunghoon's warm breath tickles your lips when he whispers, "Maybe he thinks your pretty little pussy can't take it yet."

A warm feeling travels through your body, settling into your lower abdomen, and just when you think he's gonna kiss you, he pulls back and rests his back on the cushion behind him, sinking further into the soft couch and pulling you down with him.

"Hoon—"

"Mh-mh. You haven't told me what Won's idea was yet."

"You know it." You raise your hand to playfully hit his chest, but he's faster than you are and catches your wrist midway with his injured hand.

"I don't know a damn thing," Sunghoon says as he brings his lips to the back of your hand, letting them brush gently against your soft skin before placing a small peck. "Go on, enlighten me."

You pout, but Sunghoon's set on making you talk, and even though you're stubborn and embarrassed, you know he won't let it go until he's satisfied with your response.

And, the slowly growing hardness under your exposed panties, combined with the residuals of alcohol still buzzing through your system are making it hard for you to stand your ground. Not when Sunghoon looks as good as he does with his bangs messily covering his eyes, and fitted short sleeve highlighting his hard chest underneath the cotton. Unfortunately for you.

You move on his lap, adjusting your position so you can feel more of him through the thin material covering you. You crave the harsh coarseness of his jeans on you, for the heat seeping out of him to envelope you fully. You're on top of him, thighs straddling his, yet you feel the invisible push to be even closer. As close as you physically can be.

Sunghoon sees the hunger in your eyes, he has all this time. He too is barely hanging on by a thread, and the self restraint he's miraculously managed to keep until now is dwindling by the second. All the times you've begged for him, all the times he's fucked your pretty pussy open with different toys, bigger and thicker each time. All the times he's had to take cold showers after seeing the raw need for him to claim you fully reflected in your eyes, even after coaxing orgasm after of orgasm out of you. You're so insatiable, but he might be even worse. Once he gives in, he doesn't think he'll be able to let you go ever.

Sunghoon knows you've felt ready for a long time, and even if he thinks you could use more getting used to bigger sizes before he allows himself to finally sink into you, the temptation gnaws at him all the same.

He just needs a little confirmation.

"Tell me, what was this master plan of yours?" he speaks with his mouth pressed to your palm, softly running his nose down to your wrist, allowing himself to bask in the warmness of the scent you chose for the night.

"Won's, not mine."

"That you willingly agreed to."

"I just… wanted to make you jealous." You finally admit, avoiding Sunghoon's gaze at all costs.

"How so? Wearing this tiny little dress?" His voice is lower, more dangerous. He slides his free hand to grab a handful of your barely covered ass, the skirt having ridden up to your waist almost completely. "You know I like it when the attention's on you. They can look all they want, you're mine." The movement causes you to jerk up against his crotch, earning a low grunt from the man beneath you.

"Tell me, baby," Sunghoon rocks you slowly against his hard bulge, caging his bottom lip between his teeth as he takes in your needy and embarrassed form. "How did you plan to make me jealous? Why?"

Your hand slides down his chest and dips under the thin shirt before caressing just over the waistband of his underwear peeking out of the dark jeans. "I thought it would be a smart idea to drag you along to the get together, and I guess I hoped someone would bring me and Jay up. I know how you feel about it and I wanted to use it to my advantage, but I also didn't consider how you'd feel surrounded by strangers reminding you of all the time you and the guys lost. All the time we lost. You came to make me happy and I was being selfish the entire time. You even got hurt because of me—"

"Not because of you. He should be thankful you were there to stop me or I would've broken his ugly face in."

"Still. I'm so sorry. It was childish."

A beat passes without either of you saying anything, and you twitch uncomfortably in his lap.

"Why?"

Your lip trembles, and your heart sinks at the thought of having angered your angel of a boyfriend. Tears well up in your eyes before you even attempt to explain yourself, but Sunghoon gently angles your chin toward him until you're met with his gaze. It's intense, darker than you've ever seen in all your time knowing him. He searches your face for something, and you realize it's not anger casting shadows behind his eyes. It's pure, unfiltered lust.

"Why did you want me jealous?" His voice is raw, like it pains him to produce a single sound, like whatever you answer him with is the honey that will soothe it.

You twitch again, and this time you're not scared, but your insides twist all the same. He rest heavy and hot under you, and you don't know how you'll handle another rejection if that's what this is leading to.

"I wanted you to fuck me, really fuck me. I hoped it would be enough to push you to the breaking point, Sunghoon.“ You swallow hard, and the saliva in your mouth feels thicker than usual. Maybe it is, maybe you're just more aware of all the sensations within your body. "I need you to break."

It's all Sunghoon needs to hear.

He lurches forward to capture your lips with his, harsh and messy, like an animal that has finally broken out of the restraint keeping it chained. His hands roam all over your body, eager to explore every single inch as if it's the first time he ever does.

You reciprocate him with just as much hunger behind every movement, hands slipping from his body to his hair to pull his head back. You grind your hips against his, moves deliberately slow compared to the feverish kiss. "I need you. I don't wanna wait anymore."

Sunghoon moans into your mouth when you release his hair, and he doubles his efforts, sliding his fingers through the wide gaps of the fishnets covering your thighs, big palms fully working you on top of his bulge.

"You want it so bad, baby?" He says between open mouthed kisses, full lips raw and red from the fight with yours. "I'm gonna give it all to you."

Uncaring for the mess of knocked over stuff you two leave in your wake, from Sunghoon's keys loudly hitting the ground to your heels abandoned somewhere on the carpet, you make your way to his room without ever letting go of each other. All around you is just background noise and things you'll think of later, the only thing that seems to matter is to get in bed and get rid of all the pent up frustration clouding your minds.

The door shuts closed and soon your back hits the bed with a soft thud, Sunghoon's hands heavy on your hips and mouth hot on your neck as he carves a wet path on your sensitive skin, caging you between his hard chest and the mattress. He wraps your leg around his middle, and when your cores touch again, you both sigh in relief.

You've spent all this time on the cusp of finally getting something more, waiting—albeit not so patiently on your part—for the right moment, and now that you both know you're just moments away from it, seconds seem to stretch out into hours and even the slightest teasing feels unbearable.

That's what you think, at least. Because Sunghoon is nothing but a tease at heart, and he has very different plans in store for you.

You take advantage of the little moment of pause to undress yourself, but Sunghoon stops you as soon as he notices what you're trying to do.

"Keep it on," he murmurs along your neck, feeling your pulse quicken right under his full lips. He kisses along your collarbones, to your shoulder, exactly where the strap of your dress rests. His teeth graze the material, and he draws back slightly before letting it snap back into place, the slight sting making you jump just the tiniest bit in his hold. "You wanted to make me jealous in this? Then I'll fuck you in it." He mouths his way back up, until he reaches your ear, teeth gently biting right where he knows it makes shivers spread all over your body. "Next time you wear it, my cock is all you'll be able to think about."

You can't hide the way your body reacts to his words, thighs pressing together from the sheer excitement.

Sunghoon toys with the strings of your fishnets, and for a moment you think you should take them off, but he just rips a hole through them, allowing his hand to finally slide underneath them and grab your ass as harshly as he wants. "These were getting on my nerves."

"I can take them—"

Sunghoon silences you with a kiss, slower than the previous one, calculated and meticulous but every bit as passionate. His teeth sink into your bottom lip until you gasp against his mouth, his tongue gently licking away at your lip to soothe the sting. He pulls your core closer to his, unabashedly moaning into your mouth as he ruts his hips into yours.

The tights start to frustrate you the more he works himself against your panties. You want to be closer, you need to feel him push against you completely, and they're in the way. So once again, you try to rid yourself of them.

Sunghoon keeps you still. "These stay on until I tell you to take them off." His tone is commanding, but not abrasive, muffled by your skin. "Understood?"

You barely nod when suddenly he's bending you at his will like you're his to drag around as he pleases, and while usually you would've fought back just for the sake of it, you play nice this time, doing anything to not have him changes his mind and leave you hanging once again.

He sets you on your knees, facing the headboard of his king sized bed, a sturdy and thick thing, wood carved with elegant loops and twirls all around the edges. They gleam and cast shadows alike when Sunghoon reaches over you to turn on the bedside lamp.

The same hand steadies your hip as he lowers himself onto you, pressing his chest to your back and littering kisses from your temple to your neck. "Aren't you such a cute little thing?" he whispers into your ear, chucking when he feels you shudder under his weight. "So needy and desperate, making up plans just to have my cock in your tight pussy." He's so big, so warm. So strong. It makes your knees weak, and you would crumble on the soft mattress if not for his large hand keeping you still. "Should've just come to me right away, should've begged for my cock like the good girl I know you can be." His other hand starts to travel down your body, and your thighs instinctively spread open to accommodate him.

Pride blooms in Sunghoon's heart. You're so pliant for him, sweetly allowing him to touch you all over, your body responding so well to his slightest touch, to his softest word. The trust you have in him makes his cock harder in his pants, but he's always been a patient man. A man that enjoys taking his time playing with his meal before sinking his teeth into it.

That, and you still have a lesson to learn. "But you've been bad, so bad." He bites your earlobe as his fingers hook onto one of the little holes in your tights, right over your throbbing core, so needy and ready to be claimed by him. You hear a loud rip before you realize what's going on.

His fingers immediately find your panties, slick and stuck to your drooling lips, and he starts touching you over them like all the teasing he's subjected you to until then isn't enough to satisfy him. "You'll make it up to me, yeah? You'll make me proud and happy." He licks along the shell of your ear, and your thighs shake, spreading open once more to coax him into touching you better. "I'll only fuck you when I'm satisfied with how sorry you are."

"Hoon—"

"Don't worry, baby." His fingers dip under the fabric, finally really touching you for the first time that night. He slides two fingers between your lips to coat them in your juices as he keeps talking to you in a tone that almost seems belittling, the pout in his voice too heavy and pronounced for it to be honest. "I'll make it worth it. All the time we waited will be worth it. I just have to get you nice and ready, dripping for me."

You have half a mind to turn around and fight him, because you don't understand how you could physically get wetter even if you wanted to be patient and take it. "I'm already wet," you say, and it comes out a little harsher than you intend for it to.

"Look at you," Sunghoon mocks you, the bite in your response only making him chuckle lowly in your ear, the vibrations from the sound make wetness pool on his digits, much to his amusement. "Can't keep the brattiness in check even when you should feel sorry. How can I take your apologies seriously?"

You open your mouth to answer, but his fingers pinch your clit before you get a single word out, replaced by a shriek that sounds something right in between pleasure and pain.

"Less talking." Sunghoon doesn't stop or lessen his touch on your poor sensitive bundle of nerves. Instead, he rolls it between his fingers, coaxing loud moans out of you with every single movement. "More of this."

The bed creaks under Sunghoon's knees as he detaches from your already quivering form and gets up to grab something. You complain with a little whine at the sudden loss, but just a quick glance in his direction tells you to stay still and be patient.

"Where's your phone?" Sunghoon asks. It sounds a lot more like an order.

"My… huh? My phone?"

"Your phone. Where is it?"

You gawk at him for a second, still in the same position despite the dull ache in your knees slowly but surely setting in, your mouth agape as you try to rack your brain for an explanation as to why the fuck Sunghoon needs your phone since he doesn't seem to be planning on offering you one. "In my bag. On the couch, I think."

It's only a few seconds before your boyfriend returns with your phone in his hand, and throws it carelessly on the bed next to you. He returns to his previous position, the warmth radiating from his body soothing you even when you don't know what to expect next.

You'd be lying if you said you don't enjoy this stricter version of your ever so loving and doting boyfriend, thighs clenching at the thought of the danger lurking behind his sweet demeanor.

"Unlock your phone and open Jay's chat." Sunghoon's calm facade is completely gone, replaced by pure fire.

"What?"

"You heard me." His grip on your thighs tightens, possessive and angry. "You're gonna open Jay's chat and record while I fuck your pussy with my fingers, and you'll have him hear how good I make you feel."

You're breathless, adrenaline pumping through your system and ears ringing at the thought of doing something so obscene, with one of your best friends on the other end of it no less. "Hoon, Jay didn't have anything to do with this… we shouldn't—"

"I don't care." Sunghoon bites your neck, sharp canines poking you just enough to elicit a gasp out of you. "You'll do as I say and tell him you won't ever go back."

He sounds so possessive, so unlike any version of him you have experienced, and just this little taste has you obsessed. You love the soft spoken, big sweetheart he always is, and you love the sleeping beast hidden just beneath the surface too. You love the anticipation of what's to come, not knowing which side of Sunghoon you're gonna get.

Your hand trembles as you reach for the phone, his is sure and steady as it makes its descent down to your wet pussy again. Sunghoon takes his time, letting his fingers ghost on your thighs for a little before sliding the panties off of you. You hear him moan behind you, and you're glad you don't get to see what you suspect is him licking off the wetness off the fabric he just rid you of. That would be way too much for you in the moment, you think.

The Jongie <3 contact in your favorites section seems so silly now that you're mere seconds away from letting him hear how your boyfriend fucks you, so you take a few deep breaths in preparation. As if sensing your hesitation, Sunghoon quickly places a gentle kiss to your temple, and just like that, he's back to his caring self. "You said you're sorry, baby. You should show me, but you don't have to."

You press the voice message recording button moments later, heart thrumming loudly in your ears as you slide your finger up so it keeps recording hands free.

"Such a brave girl. So, so good for me." Sunghoon praises you, and it soothes some of the anxiety you feel, his tone thick and sweet as honey, you barely recognize it as the same one that was giving you harsh commands earlier.

The downright filthy sound of Sunghoon's digits spreading your pussy lips open has you cowering in embarrassment, but your boyfriend doesn't care. He needs Jay to hear how absolutely soaked you are. He wastes no time, pushing in three fingers inside you.

Your mouth is hung open in a silent moan, eyebrows knit together and eyes closed, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden sensation. It stings, even when you're so wet it's dripping down your thighs by now, but his fingers are so long and thick the initial stretch is always uncomfortable, despite all the training.

Sunghoon doesn't like that, so he gives you no time, no warning, and just starts pumping in and out of you, curling the tips just like he does when you're about to cum and need the tiniest push. He's unfair, so unfair, because how are you supposed to keep your sounds down like you planned to when he's finger fucking you like it's his life mission to have you come undone in record time?

You don't know if it's an ego thing, or he just wants to make your punishment that much harder. It must be both, because within seconds you're moaning and gasping out in pleasure for him and Jay so beautifully, really putting on a show for the both of them. But it's so hard to focus and remember what you're supposed to say, and the longer the voice message is, the more mortified you'll be in the morning.

For now, satisfying Sunghoon's thirst for punishment and placating the jealousy you yourself caused is your top priority. You'll think about the consequences another time.

"Aren't you gonna say hi? Where are your manners?" Sunghoon's mouth drops to your ear, the movement of his fingers inside of your cunt relentless and not giving you a single second to breathe properly. It doesn't matter to him, how much harder he's making for you to accomplish your task. He basks in it, even. He's proud of how just his fingers are enough to turn you dumb with pleasure.

"I—mh," you try your best to muffle the moans cascading from your lips, to no avail. Even if you managed to do so, the incredibly loud squelching noises in the background would betray you.

"Need a hand?" he laughs dryly, and you feel the faint presence of a fourth finger next to the other three, waiting to slide in and stretch you open further.

"Hoon!" you gasp in surprise.

"That's right, baby. That's who you belong to. Tell Jay."

"I—I belong to—Hoon! I can't!"

His fourth digit keeps prodding around to find a possible entrance, but you're already so full you think any more would actually break you. "How do you plan to let me fuck you, then?"

He's teasing you. You both know you can and you will. It's just a matter of taking it slowly. His finger is suddenly not trying to inch inside you anymore, despite how lost you both are in the moment, your comfort comes first always. It just means Sunghoon will find another way.

He speaks lowly against your ear, but it's enough for your phone to pick it up clearly, "Once I'll split you open on my cock like you've been begging for, nothing else will ever satisfy you. No one else will. Once I claim your little hole, it's mine. Jay's seen how big I am. He knows it too. Tell him whose pussy I'm about to split open."

"Mine." You gasp at a particularly harsh thrust.

"No. Mine." The sheer command in his voice makes you clench even more around his fingers, as if the fit isn't already tight enough. "Try again."

"Yours! It's yours."

"Good fucking girl." He moans against you, his hot breath rising goose bumps all over your skin. "Tell him you'll never go back to him," he adds after a moment, quieter.

The pace he is fingering you at slows down just enough so you can actually get a coherent sentence out, and you're silently grateful for this little show of mercifulness on Sunghoon's part. If not for this, the voice mail would probably end up being an hour long.

"I'll never—mh. Go back to you."

"Good. So good. Now tell him how happy you are with me, happier than you ever were with him. Tell him you love me," he rasps, high on the reassurance you're providing him. High on how obedient you are for him.

"Love Hoon so much, I love him. I love him so so much. Hoon, please." You're a mess, dripping down onto the bedsheets and clamping around his fingers so hard any more would probably cut Sunghoon's blood flow. The more you grip him, the wider you spread your thighs to accommodate him, like you're silently begging for him to be harsher. He has half a mind to fulfill your body's wordless plea.

"Look at you, spreading your pretty legs for me. You like it when I talk to you like this? Does it make your little pussy wetter?"

You're so tight, so wet, and Sunghoon is so impossibly hard. He could cum right there just thinking about how good you'll feel wrapped around him, walls convulsing and milking him for all he's worth with every orgasm he gives you. For every orgasm you bless him with.

A sight for sore eyes, one Jay will never see nor hear. Because as soon as he can sense you climbing up your high, getting so close, your walls fluttering against his curled up digits in preparation and juices plentifully seeping out of you, he grabs your phone and ends the recording himself.

Sunghoon moves, and suddenly you miss the weight of his chest pressing into your back, but the pace of his fingers inside you slows down again. You wail as you feel the climax you were so close to dissipate, and suddenly you feel like invisible ropes are keeping your front tied to the bed. Your back gives in under the pressure, arching in ways that should be uncomfortable but it's the only outlet other than the plentiful sounds being pushed out of you your body has to ground itself in the midst of all the pleasure.

The loneliness your heart feels whenever he deprives you of his body heat for as much as a few seconds has tiny broken sobs and whines lurch out of your throat, but like every single time, Sunghoon is there to soothe you. "I know, baby, I know. Just let me help you feel good. Yeah?"

Even when you're supposedly being punished, he can't help but go a little easy on you, his gorgeous angel. His spoiled baby. But it's okay, because you did such a good job, listened and obeyed to his every command.

Sunghoon's warm breath tickles the skin of your bottom, and his nose brushes up from your mid thigh to your ass, giving you a playful yet gentle bite on the plushy skin. Air gets stuck in your throat in anticipation, but like every single thing he does, he takes his time in savoring all the moments leading up to finally get your sweet taste to coat his tongue like he's craved for this entire time.

You're twitchy and so responsive in his hold, and Sunghoon is enamored with the sight of your fluttering walls trying their best to suck his thick digits in even more. Greedy little cunt for a spoiled little girl. A perfect match.

He watches intently how you react to every single thrust of his fingers inside you, how your knees shake and body flops forward when he bends the tips in just the right direction when you least expect it. He pushes in deeper, and deeper, until you're gushing on his palm, your essence dripping down his wrist and a few droplets down to his elbow too. He registers your every moan, every beg for more, imprints all your sounds in his memory like they're the dearest ones he's ever made.

Sunghoon remembers all your reactions from times you'd consider unimportant, from the little moan when you first bite into anything he's cooked—whether you really like it not—to the way your leg bounces when following the rhythm of a song you said you despised because they played it on the radio too often, to the way your eyebrow twitches when he mentions a name you haven't heard before.

When you catch him with that sweet look in his eyes, staring at you with a toothy grin and canines peeking out, it's because he's watching you and storing everything in his mind, no matter how mundane, no matter how dumb, no matter how silly. It's a no brainer he'd do this in times like these too, even when he's witnessed you come undone under his gaze plenty of times, he doesn't want to miss a single one.

It's not really about learning what brings you pleasure faster and what prolongs it, he's familiar with all of that already, Sunghoon just happens to really enjoy watching you, even if you think it's the most embarrassing thing in the world.

So he does exactly that, inspects you carefully as he keeps fucking you open with his fingers, taking guesses about how hard or deep he should make his pumps, pride blooming in his chest—and cock throbbing in his pants—when you react exactly like he expects. While usually he watches you with a lovesick smile, the grin on his face and fiery glint behind his eyes are different now, hungrier and needier, but every bit as obsessed.

Because that's exactly what Sunghoon is, deeply and unashamedly obsessed with you.

He builds your orgasm up again, brick by brick, flick of his wrist by flick of his wrist, until you're quivering and shaking and begging him to not take it away this time.

"Please," you moan, hand clenching onto the bedsheets beside you so hard you'll be shocked if by the end there won't be a hole ripped in them. "I'm so close."

Sunghoon notices how you hold onto your orgasm, waiting for his approval. It makes his hips twitch forward involuntary, eager to please and eager to give you anything you want. "I got you baby, let go. Let me hear the pretty sounds you make when you cum for me."

It's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to completely snap, and the second your warm walls flutter around Sunghoon's fingers for the first time, you feel a sense of emptiness that lasts only a moment, before you're full again. It's not as thick, shorter but so much wetter, and through the thick fog clouding your mind as your body is overtaken by uncontrollable shivers spreading from your core to every extremity of your body, you realize he just replaced his fingers with his tongue.

Another lightning strike shoots right through you, head to feet, as Sunghoon keeps fucking you through your orgasm with his tongue. You're still fluttering around it and releasing all of your juices right into his awaiting mouth when the ringing in your ears slowly fades, replaced by the downright obscene sounds of Sunghoon slurping up all he can get out of you. It's messy and nasty, the lower half of his face completely coated in your essence but he doesn't care. He wants more.

He moans into your pussy like he's the one being pleasured, and once that single second of bliss between fully coming down from an orgasm and overstimulation setting in goes by, he pulls you in closer when you start moving too much. You're still too sensitive, but if Sunghoon thinks you're greedy, you have to realize he's even worse. Feeling the dull throbbing of your walls as you come around his tongue one time just isn't enough. If it were up to him, he'd have you wet his mouth again and again until you physically can't withstand any more. Until you're barely coherent and slipping into a peaceful sleep, completely tired out.

Sunghoon grabs a handful of your ass with his still dripping hand as he licks a stripe down from your hole into your lips, spreading them open with his tongue to find your clit, throbbing and raw from your previous orgasm. He rolls it between his lips, toys with it with his tongue, uncaring for the way your body pushes away from his mouth. After all the begging you did, you have no business running from it, if you ask him.

"Stay still," he growls into you, both of his hands tied together on your lower back as he fully pushes you down on the mattress with his strength, leaving you nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He nuzzles his face into you, enveloping all he can get with his warm mouth, sighing and groaning contently with every bit of wetness you gush right on his tongue.

He explores every inch of you, every nook and cranny he can get into, cleaning you up with each lick and wetting you even more with every other. "So fucking good," he moans into you, dragging you back against him when you think you can't physically be closer, when the tip of his nose pushes into your hole and when the only way he has to breathe is through his mouth which is full of you. He pants and gasps against your cunt so much you fear he might suffocate himself just to not come up for air a single time.

Your own face is pushed against the bed, mouth biting down on the cotton fabric beneath you to ground yourself in the immense cloud of pleasure Sunghoon is giving you. He's so lost in your taste he doesn't even remind you to not muffle your sounds, the only thing in his mind is to have you come undone on his mouth once more.

Sunghoon knows he's close to his goal when your little pained whines start turning into longer, more drawn out moans, when you stop running away from his tongue and instead start thrusting yourself back into his hold, back into his mouth. All your senses are ablaze, nerve endings lit and confused but so pleased at the same time. You yourself don't know when the it stopped hurting and became that dull, impending feeling of almost there to something more that both maddens you and keeps you hooked, but you roll your hips anyway in search of just the little nudge in the right direction your body violently craves.

Like always, Sunghoon knows exactly what you need.

"Go on, baby. Touch your little clit for me." His voice is full and rich of that low gravel you barely get to hear, but that has tingles run down your body when you do. "Help me make you cum." Sunghoon lets his tongue run back up from your clit to your slit again, inching closer to your throbbing hole as you let a hand sneak under your body to your pussy, immediately finding your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You're so drenched by now you don't need to wet your hand before drawing circles all over it, dragging it in all the directions you know have your toes curl. Sunghoon likes it messy though, so he gathers a glob of spit and loudly releases it on your cunt, the position making it dribble down right where your hand is working to bring you closer to your peak.

The onslaught of wetness pooling down only adds to the already embarrassingly loud noises coming from your cunt, and you're so wet, your own fingers slip a few times. It doesn't help that your arm shakes under you even when pinned down by your entire body weight when Sunghoon shoves his entire tongue down your hole again, using both of his hands on your lower back to move you so you're fucking his muscle as if it were a toy. His nose drags on your perineum with every movement of your bottom half against his face, and under any other circumstance you'd be mortified, but Sunghoon has a way of soothing you in the most embarrassing situations without really having to do anything but be there with you, like nothing matters in the grand scheme of things when his body is heating yours.

You speed your movements up to match the pace he sets, and with every thrust of his tongue combined with every flick of your wrist, you feel the band in your lower tummy stretch and warm up, until your sight turns searing white and warmth envelops your body from your core to all your limbs in rhythmic waves, first every other second, and then gradually slowing down.

You release on Sunghoon's tongue, and he wastes no time, gulping down all he can manage to, moaning into your heat like he's tasting the most divine nectar. You can't see it as you're busy catching your breath and slowing down your heartbeat as the rush of pleasure dissipates into a calmer buzzing felt all over your body, but Sunghoon's eyebrows crease in the middle, his eyes closed as he commits the taste of your cum to his memory, right beside all the indecent bits of you he treasures in his mind.

Sunghoon pulls his tongue out of you, already missing the way you flutter against it when you come undone, and leaves a trail of pecks all over your bottom, first on the plush of your ass still kept up by his strong hold despite you having completely given up on keeping yourself upright long ago, then all over your thighs, switching from one to the other as he runs a reassuring hand all over your skin, wordlessly soothing you. His palms are big and thick on your thighs as he moves to wrap his hands to the front, steadying you one last time to capture your clit in a gentle suckle, just enough to have your body convulse in overstimulation, but too tired and spent to fight back.

He pulls off of you with a pop after hollowing his cheeks around it one last time. "Did so good for me, baby. You're so perfect."

Without Sunghoon's hands keeping you up, you slump on the bed, completely this time, groaning when the burn in your lower body fully sets in now that you can move it again. It's dull and persistent, and especially fiery right where Sunghoon's hands stayed locked for most of it.

"You okay, pretty? Was I too rough?" He sounds concerned when you take longer than usual to regain your strength, his hands immediately roaming all over your body to massage any sore spot. His touch is light like a breeze but welcome like the sun on a spring day, warming up all the knots in your muscles. The dangerous edge seems to have completely evaporated, only leaving your sweet boyfriend behind. In the moment, it's exactly what you need.

You give him a vague sound of approval in response, but you know it's not enough for him when he gently maneuvers your body around to face him, holding you so carefully one would think him scared of damaging you.

The warm light shining from the night stand casts shadows on his face, but the slight concern etched on his features is bright as day. It's an intimate moment, and you'd giggle because of the sheer difference in his behavior if you had the energy to do so. Instead, you reach for his hand. The same hand that held a bruising grip on you just moments before, the same hand that hit the man who disrespected you.

Sunghoon returns you touch right away, locking your fingers with his as if second nature. You place a featherlight kiss on them, allowing your lips to linger on his salty skin as you speak. "I'm great. Perfect even." It comes out a little raspy, like you haven't fully caught your breath yet, but it's a start.

"Yeah. You are."

"And you? You doing okay?"

Sunghoon gifts you one of his cannot-possibly-contain-it smiles, the ones where he looks down for a split second as his eyes crinkle and somehow smile wider than his lips do. Your favorite kind of Sunghoon Smiles you'd say in the moment, though if you were to compile a list they would all be in the number one spot.

"Perfect, even."

"Hey, that's my line—" you start, but Sunghoon finishes your sentence for you.

"—Don't steal it."

You hum, the taste of skin still on your lips as you bask in the moment for a little, neither of you daring to break the peaceful quiet that wraps like a fuzzy blanket around you. Sunghoon flinches just the tiniest bit when your fingers graze the bandaged scratches, making you ease up your hold on his hand. He immediately squeezes yours to tell you it's okay.

"You know," you say after you let the silence linger for a few more seconds, only your heartbeats and shallow breaths filling the air in the dimly lit room. "You look really hot when you're mad."

Fits of giggles pour in the almost nonexistent space between you—first Sunghoon's, yours following suit.

"I must look super hot when I'm jealous then," he says with that teasing edge in his tone you're all too familiar with. He dips down to catch your lips in a slow kiss, suckling on your bottom lip gently, the corners of his mouth still raised. He hasn't stopped smiling once.

"Absolutely," you say before Sunghoon pecks you again, and then keeps doing it as you try to continue. "And when you're happy—" another peck. "And when you're bored." Another peck. "And when you're—sorry if I say this but you look like a cute kicked puppy—sad.

"So you're gonna keep finding ways to make me jealous, I assume."

It's not meant to be a jab, you know he's being playful. But it stings you just in the right way, and suddenly you're in the passenger seat of Sunghoon's black Bentley again, worrying about having hurt his feelings past redemption.

Like all things you, Sunghoon catches it right away.

"Hey there, it's okay. I'm not upset, baby." Sunghoon's hands are secure around your hips, his thumb running soothing circles on your skin while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer because it's simply never enough.

"You should be. You're too nice."

Sunghoon presses his lips on your fluttering lashes. "You being a little brat is nothing new. I think I know how to handle you pretty well, don't I?" His breath, minty but also vaguely bitter from the beer still, warms your cheekbone. Sunghoon's proximity to you is intoxicating in ways no amount of alcohol could ever be, and you hate beer, but god, what wouldn't you do to taste it off of his lips for the rest of your life.

Whoever is up there must be gracious because your prayers are answered the very next second, with Sunghoon ghosting his lips on yours, looking at you with tenfold the intensity and fire from earlier, like someone drenched the space behind his eyes with gasoline and lit it up without you noticing it. The switch is so sudden, and by now you should be used to this, but you don't think you ever will. Not when your boyfriend is looking at you like he might devour you whole any moment, and you'd let him. You'd love to let him.

"Act out all you want," Sunghoon says, voice dripping in possessiveness, right against your awaiting mouth. You want to swallow every last bit of it. "Go out there in short little skirts barely covering your ass. Make up all the silly plans you want, even ones where Jay's involved. Let everyone get a good look at you because that's all they'll ever fucking get." His hand reaches for your inner thigh, then folds it to give himself better access. His bulge is heavy and hard against your bare core, the weight of it enough to have you shiver and mewl, but when Sunghoon starts grinding his hips into yours, the noises spill out of you like you have no control over them. "At the end of the night, after you've had your fun, you'll always come back to me. In my bed, soaking my pants with your little pussy because you only get wet like this for me."

It's embarrassing how fast you feel like you could come again, but Sunghoon's hard thickness slides so perfectly over your folds even through the fabric, and the harshness of his jeans catches your clit every so often in such a delicious way. His pants are soaked through in your essence, both of you moaning and panting in each other's mouths so messily you don't even know if it could be classifies as a kiss or a mere exchange of spit.

"You're mine," Sunghoon rasps, like his life depends on it. He fumbles with his pants, depriving you of the mouth watering friction. You make a few noises of complaints, but his teeth are quick to sink into your bottom lip to silence them. "A spoiled little brat. But mine."

The heaviness of him finds your dripping core again, this time so much warmer, only his underwear separating your most sensitive parts from touching. It's the closest you've ever been to feeling his cock on you, and it's overwhelming. Electricity shocks run through your body when he starts moving his pelvis against you, completely coating the already damp material with the mix of your arousal and release. He's not unaffected—his own precum shows up right where the little slit in his tip is, the fabric of the boxers a darker shade of gray there.

"Mine to love, mine to discipline, mine to train. Mine." You don't know wether the hoarseness coming from his throat is due to the anything but proper activity you two are partaking in or simply the raw need for you to really let his words sink in, but the effect it has on you is clear. The proof is right where your cores meet.

You tentatively roll your hips into his, movements emboldening when you earn a few low grunts from him.

"This pussy is gonna be mine too now. Mine to worship and please. Mine to fuck open like she never has been before. I'm gonna ruin you for everyone else. You want that, right?"

You nod frantically, your hips running after Sunghoon's in a relentless chase, like they have a mind of their own.

"Say it. Say you want me to ruin your little hole."

"Ruin it—Hoon, please."

His hips falter when he hears just how desperate you sound, his eyebrows scrunched up in the middle and you can tell he's biting down on his tongue to ground himself. It only encourages you.

You reach for his boxers, wrapping your hand around the outline of his bulge and trying to contain your facial expressions at the reminder of just how ridiculously large he is. You squeeze it with your palm, his eyelids fluttering closed and his chest heaving from your touch alone. You try not to think too much about how outrageously wet the fabric is, all thanks to you. "Please, I need to feel you inside," you beg, arms pushing your tits—now basically spilling out of your dress—together and looking up at him with the most innocent doe eyed expression you can muster up.

Sunghoon's jaw leaps, and you feel like under a microscope as he watches you. "Little minx you are." He reaches for the first drawer of his night stand, rummaging though it quickly before pulling a tiny bottle out of it. It's lube.

"I don't need—"

Sunghoon silences you by spitting right on your pussy, your complaint turning into a whimper at the contact. "You do, baby. You need all the help you can get." Complaining more will get you nowhere but tucked into bed, still needy, horny and with a wet pussy, so you decide to play your cards cleverly and let him do his thing.

You paw at his boxers, fingers dipping into the waistband and trying to tug them down to get to the prize hidden behind. You spread your legs open even more as Sunghoon rips a larger hole into your tights, the veins running down his arms slightly bulging from the effort.

The sudden coldness of the lube dripping down on your puffy folds surprises you enough to rip a little yelp out of you, and Sunghoon's wide palms find their rightful place on your thighs, pushing them against your hips and lower stomach. He takes a good look at your cunt, spreading you open to his liking and leaving no inch of your skin hidden from his sight. "Such a pretty pussy." Your joints still ache and burn from all the exertion they already endured, but Sunghoon's words are like a soothing balm for your body and mind. "Prettiest cunt in the whole fucking world, all wet and ready for me to fuck."

You finally manage to free his cock fully, despite his filthy words sending waves of weakness through your body, and immediately wrap your palm around the middle, mouth watering when your thumb doesn't reach your other fingers. Not only is it way longer than average, it's also thick beyond comprehension, perfectly curved to hit all the right spots in you and so fucking veiny you can feel more slick pour out of you in anticipation. You quite literally cannot stop gawking at it, trying to move your hand up to his tip, just as thick if not thicker than the base, and you gulp as you watch beads of semi transparent liquid pour out of it.

"What is it, baby?" Sunghoon asks, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to not buck his hips into your hand. "We can stop if you want."

"No!" Your grip around him tightens, earning a gasp and a shallow thrust from him. Your thumb swipes over the head to spread his need all over, making it easier for you to slowly jerk him off. "Please," you add, quieter, afraid he might take the opportunity away from you.

The sight of you laying down so prettily with your much smaller hand enveloping his length, has all the blood in Sunghoon's body rush straight to his groin. He could cum at any moment, just from having you right in front of him like this, but he's set on making it worth the wait.

"You're so fucking hot like this." His hand finds your cunt again, fingers spreading your folds open so he can take a good look at the sensitive bud he loves so much, finding it so swollen he wishes to just bend down and suck on it again.

Once the lube fully coats his digits, he brings them down to your hole again, prodding it just enough to make sure it's slick with the cold essence. He squirts more of it right onto his cock while you keep fisting him as best as you can, spreading the lube all over it until all that can be heard in the room is the loud squelching noises and both of your heavy pants and low groans. His fingers keep rubbing your folds, coaxing more of your own arousal out of you, the feeling so distracting the pace you set on his cock falters a bit. To compensate, you add your other hand too, milking him with both at the same time.

"Fuck yeah, just like that," Sunghoon moans, and he looks divine above you with his lip caught between his teeth, gaze flickering from where his hips have started fucking into your fists, to where his fingers are playing with your pussy, like he cannot decide which view is best.

His cock throbs in your hands every time your hold tightens or your movements get faster, and you're stuck watching every reaction. His chest heaves, sometimes he looks like he forgets to breathe and then he has to make up for it. His cheeks are flushed, and when you notice how his bangs are sticking to his forehead because of the sweat accumulating on his hairline, you suspect he might be close.

"Gonna come?" you ask, battling your lashes at him, hoping he'll do just that from your hands alone. That's enough to wake him from his daze, and you almost regret asking when he breaks free from your hold and stops playing with your pussy.

The disappointment is short lived, because without wasting any time, Sunghoon brings your legs close together around his cock and sets both of your feet on one of his shoulders. He fucks your thighs just like that, with slow thrusts, making sure to slide his cock between your folds and let you feel every single vein running down his length. "You'd love that wouldn't you? Me coming all over your pussy. You're so fucking messy."

The shirt still covering his torso leaves close to nothing to the imagination now, clinging to every ridge of his abs and chest because of the sweat, and you're basically drooling at the sight. The feeling of Sunghoon's cock between your thighs and on your cunt is too much for you already, clit throbbing with need every time his tip catches on it, balls pushing against your hole every now and then, but you make the mistake of looking down when his thrusts get faster, and the view you're met with has you absolutely obsessed.

The head of Sunghoon's cock peeks out from your thighs every time his hips move forward, red and leaking so fucking much on your lower tummy it looks like he's cumming all over you already. But then it just keeps going, reaching close to your belly button, and when his head rests right on it, your mouth goes slack. It's one thing to see how big he is normally, but to have it compared directly against you, it makes the room spin in circles and your body feel even weaker. You need him inside you now.

"You like the view, baby? That's how deep I'm gonna be inside you, how deep I'll be fucking you," Sunghoon laughs, a little manically, and you hate how much it turns you on, like you need to be any more than you already are. "You'll feel me riiight here." He stops his thrusts to tap his cock on your stomach, the sounds of the tiny slaps reverberating through the room. "All up in your guts."

You gasp out his name when his hips go back to working his cock between your thighs, in an attempt to get his attention, but he already knows what you want.

"I know, baby. I know. Just a little more I promise." His gaze flicks up to meet yours, watching you intently for any sign of discomfort, any indication that you might want to stop. He knows it's unlikely—Hell, he's sure you were about to beg him to fuck you for the nth time that night just now—but he needs you to be absolutely sure. The weight on his chest, the slightest hint of uneasiness looming over him despite all the excitement fades in the background when all he finds on your face is pure lust, unfiltered need for him.

The pace slows down a little, and Sunghoon keeps eye contact with you as he speaks with his full lips brushing the skin of your ankle, giving you a few kisses there to ease up any anxiety you might feel. "Are you sure, pretty? We can wait a bit more. We don't have to—"

"Hoon. For the love of God just put it in or i might actually die within the next two minutes."

An amused wheeze tickles your skin, followed by a gentle nibble right where his lips kissed you. He rests your legs back down while he still kneels on the bed "Alright, alright."

He's spent all this time preparing you, telling you to take it slow for your own well being, but as you watch the way his eyes hesitantly shift focus around your body, you think maybe he's not the one ready yet. "Hoon?" you catch his attention, voice meek but it's like music to his ears, always.

Sunghoon hums in acknowledgement, but he looks deep in thought. His thumb follows the ridge of your jaw to your chin, then swipes over it a few times as if to encourage you to continue.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Had a change of heart? Weren't you just about to die a few seconds ago?"

"I'm asking you."

He exhales, then bends down to place a soft kiss right on your parted lips. "Of course I'm sure. I'm just…" He trails off, but you already know what he's thinking.

"You won't hurt me," you say, keeping eye contact to really get the point across. "Besides, even if you did. I'd enjoy it a bit."

The corner of his lips lift up, and you know you've finally cracked through him. "I suppose you would."

His elbow rests by your head, while his other hand grabs his cock and gives it a few pumps in preparation—not that he needs it, Sunghoon doesn't think he's ever been this goddamn hard in his entire life. "Give me a few taps anywhere if you want me to stop, if it helps you can bite me when it hurts." He positions himself, hand still guiding his tip to your leaking entrance, but doesn't push in just yet. "Where should I cum?"

You're about to lose your mind, hips slowly rolling against his tip to try to coax it inside of you and he's still talking instead of doing something about it. "Huh?"

"Where do you want my cum baby? You won't be able to talk when I'm fucking you."

The sheer seriousness in his tone has shivers run down your spine, but you don't dwell on it too long. "Inside. Anywhere you want just please—Oh my god."

The sting of his tip slowly pushing in stops you from finishing your sentence. It's a mild discomfort for now, but the feeling of it stretching you open is better than any of the toys you and Sunghoon experimented with could've ever provided. He's just getting started, but your mouth is already ajar, and more wetness seeps out of you when your boyfriend rewards you with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard.

"God, it's like she's begging me to slam all the way in." His thumb swipes over your clit in circular motions to help you ease up so the first few inches aren't too harsh on your poor drooling pussy, and even though the tip isn't even the entire way in, the sight of his cock slowly disappearing inside your heat quickly shoots up to his favorite spot. "Deep breaths baby, remember what I taught you—No, don't tense up, it's okay. You've got this."

Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head, pleasure and discomfort blending into one slowly as he waits for you to adjust. How are you supposed to not clench around him when he's encouraging you like this? It's beyond you.

Your hand shoots to grab Sunghoon's muscular biceps when he starts moving again, and he stills right away, waiting with bated breath for the taps to come.

They don't.

"Is it all in yet?" you ask, because truly, you feel so fucking full already, fuller than you have ever been. But the amused look on Sunghoon's face tells you exactly what you need to know.

"I mean." He moves a little more, and the burning—even if eased up a bit by all the juices and lube coating both of you—resumes. "A little more than the tip is."

"The tip?"

"The tip." Sunghoon thrusts out gently before pushing in again, both of you moaning at the same time. "I can fuck you with just that, it's enough to make you come harder than you ever have." He doesn't wait for you to tell him what to do, opting to give you shallow thrusts to test the waters, his thumb never parting from your clit.

The way you shudder and the little sweet sounds you make because of his tip alone has his stomach knot in all kinds of ways and his cock leap and throb so much it fucking hurts. Sunghoon would want nothing more than to shove it in and claim you fully, mold your pussy around his girth so perfectly no one else would ever be able to give you a cock half as good as his—like he would let that happen in the first place.

You're writhing under him, legs kicking a little when he feels the slide in and out slowly get more comfortable and slippier. That doesn't mean you're not clenching around him so hard he could cum at any given moment, but for your own pleasure—and his, really. He wants to shoot his load as deep as he possibly can—he tries to hold off to the best of his capabilities.

But fuck if it's not the hardest thing he's ever tried to do.

He almost breaks when your own hand reaches down for the one working on your pussy, smaller palm attempting to cover the back of his and to coax it into moving faster. There's a bit of drool on the corner of your lips, and you look so wrecked already, Sunghoon hates how a shiver runs down his spine at the mere thought of how you'll look like when he's balls deep inside you. "Hoon—fuck. I want more."

He coos at you, pretending he's not a wreck himself, pretending the thread thin sliver of sanity he has left isn't the only thing preventing him to fold your legs all the way up to your chest and fuck you into oblivion, but the arm next to your head shakes with restraint, and the knuckles on his fist are ghostly white by now, even if you're too blissed out to pay attention. His voice is shaky, uneven, but his words are careful and patient, even when you'd rather them not be. "We gotta get your pretty parts used to it first baby, come like this just once, it's only the last stretch."

Your whines turn into moans when his movements on your clit fasten and his tip nudges inside you a little deeper, just enough to momentarily satisfy your craving for more.

"Aren't you a greedy little thing," Sunghoon rasps, holding back his own impending orgasm with all his strength, beads of sweat now rolling down his neck deliciously, and you kinda wish you could bend forward and lick them off of him. "Asking for more, and more, and more after the stunt you pulled today. My pretty baby," his thumb pushes more forcefully on your bud, making it hurt so good for a second as you adjust to the pressure, then giving you harsher drags, meant to have you come undone and quivering under him in no time. "So desperate for cock you just had to go ahead and try to make me jealous. You like it when I'm jealous?"

You gasp, nodding frantically as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten more and more, an embarrassing amount of slick pouring out of you and running downwards.

"You're so fucking lucky this is the first time we do this," his voice is rough, an octave lower than usual. "Or I would've bent you over and fucked you so silly the second we got home without stretching your pretty pussy open. But I'm so kind. Thank me for it."

You clench hard around him at his words, toes bending because you don't know what else to do with all the pleasure coursing through you, and he gives a gorgeous deep groan in response. "I'm gonna—"

"Then thank me for it."

You come around him hard, harder than you ever have, thank you's pouring out of your lips like a broken prayer, entire body shaking head to toe from the intense orgasm. The buzz in your ears persists for a while as you try to come down from it, and you can see but it feels like you can't, like your brain isn't registering any of the images your eyes capture. Bright, static, dark spots, so many things at once. It feels like you blacked out for a second even if you didn't, all your senses dulled to make space for all the other sensations your climax provides.

When you slowly start to regain power over them, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon panting like a dog, eyes closed and fist wrapped around his cock, the head poking out and redder than you've ever seen it, looking like he just ran a fucking marathon. Somehow, he managed not to cum. He was so close though, so close he had to pull out the second your walls started to involuntary flutter around him or he would've been done for.

The tight black shirt is still clinging to him like a second skin, and the first coherent thought of yours after the fog around brain clears is to get him out of it as soon as you can. You tug at the hem, still panting and blood buzzing from the release. "Off."

Sunghoon doesn't answer you with words, but he rips the shirt off his torso, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him. His hands are shaky as they travel from your waist to your hips, then reaching your thighs, spreading you open further in front of him and allowing him to take a look at the big mess you—both of you, really—made. Sunghoon's cock is rock hard, tip oozing enough precum to make all the prep you've endured so far pointless. (Not really, you know better than that.)

Sunghoon goes back to nudging his tip on your hole, just holding it there without pushing in quite yet, casting a last questioning glance your way because he needs the reassurance that you're okay with this one last time before he fully commits.

When you nod, he slowly eases himself back into you with a low moan accompanying the motion, this time his gaze holding yours. The face you make as his tip stretches you open makes it a hundred times harder for him to keep his chill, wanting nothing more than to say fuck it and pound you stupid like you've been begging him to do ever since things first got handsy between you two.

The burn isn't nearly as bad as it was the first time, leaving space for so much more pleasure to course right through you, and you can't help the relieved sigh that leaves you when his tip is fully back inside you again, like it's a need for you to be filled by it. And Sunghoon sees that. He sees the fire in your eyes, the greediness slowly pooling behind those pupils he loves so much, how your hips look for his even if taking any more in hurts.

His hips jerk forward more than he intends them to, but he can't help it, not when you're looking at him like he's the prey. More of your wetness coats him, and both of you loudly moan into the night.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," Sunghoon whines, actual tears filling his waterline because he can't believe how much you're gripping him, pussy fluttering around his girth with every little bit he pushes forward, welcoming him like no one has ever done. "Tightest little pussy ever."

The hold on your thighs is bruising, but it helps you stay at least a little grounded so you wouldn't have it any other way. Whenever you think you're too full and cannot possibly take anymore, you feel a little more of Sunghoon's cock slide in you, so you get on your elbows with what little strength you have left and take a look for yourself. He's barely halfway in, and the burning sensation is starting to set in again. It hurts, but it hurts so good, you need more and you need less at the same time.

"Yeah, that's right, angel. Watch how your greedy needy cunt swallows me." Sunghoon's eyebrows are creased, sweat now not only dripping from his scalp, but little droplets constellating his broad chest, following the paths preset by his sculpted physique, all the way down to his vline. A mouthwatering sight.

"So full," you sigh, eyes never leaving from where you're connected, clit throbbing the more he fucks his cock into you, begging for a lick of attention.

"You'll be so much fuller. Can you behave and handle that for me, mhh?"

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding along to his words and sneaking down your hand to play with your clit when you come to the conclusion that Sunghoon's hands are way too busy gripping your plushy skin like his sanity depends on it.

"Smart girl," he praises.

The wetter you become, the easier and more pleasurable the slide is. Sunghoon watches you for any sign of unbearable discomfort, slowing down when you bite your tongue or picking his speed back up when you bless him with those precious needy whines of yours. "You're doing so well, my gorgeous girl. So fucking amazing, making me feel so good already, God, you're perfect."

His words of encouragement play a big part in easing the pain for you, soothing you enough to make it easier for you to not tense up when his cock nudges a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Your hand flies to your lower belly and you swear you feel him right there, so much deeper than you've ever had anyone—or anything—be.

"There we go," Sunghoon puffs out like he's been holding himself back from breathing this entire time, his pelvis grinding against your folds deliberately. And you finally realize he's all the way in for the first time ever. "Squeezin' me so tight, are you scared I'll run away?" He pulls back a bit before fully thrusting inside again, the curve of his cock aiding in making him hit all the right spots you could've never reached yourself. "No fucking chance. Not after I've got a taste of this. Gonna fuck your pretty pussy open every fucking night, until I've trained her to take me in without any complaints."

He sets a slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm you just yet, then adds, in a softer tone, "Does it hurt too bad, baby?"

If he keeps the back and forth up for much longer, you're gonna end up getting whiplash. But between groans and higher pitches sounds, you manage to answer him. "Any more and you would've popped me like a balloon."

Sunghoon giggles as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, hands finally loosening his grip on your legs and traveling all over your body. "You begged, and begged and—"

"I'm not complaining, am I?" you ask, breaking the kiss and resting your forehead on his, the saliva string connecting you two shining under the warm light of the lamp. "Harder."

Sunghoon complies instantly, speeding up his movements and giving you actual thrusts instead of the messy mix of grinding and nudges he'd taken a liking to. His hot, wet mouth finds your neck, too greedy and selfish, in desperate need of hearing the beautiful sounds you make instead of swallowing them down. His tongue skates over your pulse point, a shiver traveling down your entire body when he gives you the lightest nibble right there before licking it up again in apology.

"I can still taste you in my mouth." His breath tickles the wet skin of your neck, your front arching into his when goosebumps appear all over your exposed arms. "Always want to—mh, taste it. You'll let me eat your pretty pussy again after you gush on my cock?"

Even if you want to reply, you really can't, not when the pace he's drilling into you at is knocking the air out of your lungs, and the bolder his movements get, the more you understand why he asked where he should cum before even staring. You want to look at him, take in every expression on his beautiful face, but the pleasure is too much to handle and the only thing that seems to help is closing your eyes and letting them roll back into your skull.

Your lips are raw from all the biting, and you're so incredibly thankful when Sunghoon's hand swats yours away from your clit to replace it, allowing you to sink your fingers into his broad shoulders, clawing at them with every languid thrust he gives you. He feels so perfect, filling you up to the brim and then some more, stretching you out so fucking good you suspect you won't ever be able to scratch the itch if not with his cock.

"I'm in love with this fucking pussy, baby," he moans, loud and unapologetic, making his way with open mouthed kisses down your neck, then following the line of your clavicle, only to dip down between the valley of your breasts. Your tits have spilled out of the tiny little dress due to bouncing around with every precise thrust Sunghoon gave you, and your nipples are perky and hard, begging for his attention right in his face.

"And your tits, fuck. So pretty, I'm gonna eat you right up." He licks a stripe on one of your hardened buds before enveloping it fully between his lips and sucking on it lightly, sighing contently into it when you push your tits on his face further, loud whines spilling out of you.

The very familiar band in your tummy starts to tighten again the more he works on your nipples and clit at the same time, thrusts never once faltering. All of your senses are heightened to such a degree you don't even know what to do with yourself anymore if not lay under Sunghoon and let him absolutely ravage you, not a single thought but 'feels so good' crossing your mind. But it's fast, too fast, and you want it to last for longer, want Sunghoon to keep fucking you for hours until the only word you remember is his name.

You try to push his hand away from your clit, only earning a reprimanding yet gentle bite on your nipple, a warning. "I c-can't."

"Can't what, pretty girl?" He rolls your nipple between his lips, lapping away the tingling sensation the nibble left on it that has you jolt in his hold. "Use your words."

You throw your head back in frustration, feeling the impending climax approach you once again, the nth that night. "Don't want it to end," you gasp, using up all the strength left in you form a coherent sentence.

Sunghoon coos at you. Fucking coos at you only to deepen the strokes of his cock inside you, angling his hips to reach even deeper. "Cum for me baby, I'll just keep fucking you."

Your thighs shake as they wrap around his waist to pull him closer, his hips switching to grinding his cock into you instead of thrusting it, the fat tip poking the most delicious sensitive parts of your heat. You gasp and wheeze, claw and scratch and draw blood from his skin but it never hinders or stops his strokes. You clench around him time and time again, wrapping around his cock so nicely Sunghoon can feel his own orgasm build up in the pit of his stomach.

You come around him with a silent scream, every single part of your body twitching under him as he keeps fucking into you, now chasing his own high. He still takes a moment to watch you and how beautiful you look at the highest of your peak, eyes glazed over and mouth hung open, sweaty skin glistening so beautifully he wishes to be a painter and capture it forever. It's a sight he's never gonna grow accustomed to, and it has his stomach twist in knots. "That's it baby, so fucking gorgeous, keep cumming for me like that, milking my cock so well."

Even in the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body looks for his, hips rolling into his as if to silently ask for him to cum inside you, now that your voice has completely failed you.

"Just a bit more. We're almost there, my perfect little baby, so good for me," Sunghoon is babbling too by now, so damn enamored with the sight of you trying to keep your twitching under control even though you're still cumming around him and teetering on overstimulation so he can fully savor his own high. "The most perfect angel girl ever. I love you so fucking much."

Your head is light and Sunghoon's words reach you as if in slow motion, muffled by your own blood buzzing in your ears. You're completely drenched, and the bedding underneath you is too, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care. The slide is not painful anymore, and everything feels so warm and slippery, you never want it to end.

The image of Sunghoon still grinding and fucking his cock into you, his pace now reduced to a desperate mess and nowhere near as precise as it was, clears up slowly as your ears stop ringing, but your pleasure never does. You don't know if you're still cumming or if Sunghoon fucking you just feels this good you can't tell the difference, but you feel like you're on cloud nine and lighter than you've ever been.

Sunghoon's torso is completely glistening, and you feel some of that slick coat your skin too when he bends your legs into you, folding you against the bed and hitting even deeper inside you.

You're a moaning mess as he pistons his dick inside your heat, dragging perfectly against your gummy walls. You look down and see a bulge poke your lower tummy with each deep stroke of his. The sight alone is enough to have you on the edge again, but it feels different this time, like you cannot possibly contain what's about to happen.

"Hoon—"

"Shh," he silences you, hair a sweaty mess and dripping all over your figure. The squelching sounds of his skin slapping against yours, connected by white strips of slick on both of your thighs get even louder when his pace gets faster, the hand that played with your clit suddenly pushing down on the bulging of your stomach. "Give it all to me, soak my fucking dick—fuck, I'm gonna cum baby, gonna cum so deep inside you."

You cannot stop the dam from breaking, juices shooting out of you so suddenly you're taken aback too, coating his entire lower abdomen in it. Your cunt throbs around him so hard, almost like it's trying to push his cock out of you. You can't think of anything, cannot fathom anything that's not Sunghoon, and his perfect cock, and how good you feel, going completely limp on the bed.

He moans louder than you at the sight of your wetness drenching the bed and his cock. "Fuck, take it all baby. I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm—"

His hips stutter one final time against you, burying his cock deep inside you and shooting his seed in multiple thick spurts as deep as he possibly can, filling you up perfectly. He dips down to catch your mouth in a messy kiss, panting into your mouth even as you two are still both trying to catch your breath from your orgasms, but your lips on his are all the oxygen he needs.

"I love you," you whisper into the kiss, your words finally having found the way out of your throat again.

Sunghoon hums, his body weakened and tired but still hovering above you instead of slumping on you. "I love you more." He gives you a sweet peck like he wasn't just putting you through the matters moments ago. "You were perfect, baby. Did so amazing." He lets his body go beside you on the bed, dragging you between his arms and grimacing when the wet mess you made on the covers touches the back of his body. "A rag won't be enough."

You smile, weak but content. "And who's fault is that?"

Sunghoon pretends to think about it, but from the look on his face you can tell the answer is ready on his tongue. "I think it might be yours for being too hot I couldn't help myself."

You swat your hand on his chest, but there's no force behind the gesture.

"Aaand for making me jealous."

A groan leaves your lips, your arms coming up to cover your face. "How am i gonna ever face Jay again after this."

Sunghoon's chest vibrates against your skin. "You'll think about that after I clean you up."

You make a low noise of complaint, rolling over to push yourself on top of your boyfriend's body, hands resting on his toned chest as you reach for his huge cock and slowly sink yourself onto it, head thrown back in pleasure even if it's not fully hard anymore. Sunghoon's breath catches in his throat as he watches you lower yourself against him again, your head finding refuge on his shoulder. "Later."

You stay like that for a while, breaths slowly synchronizing in the peaceful quiet, Sunghoon's cock comfortably nested in your heat while his fingers lazily ghost over the entire expanse of your back. You could fall asleep at any moment, but you raise your head one more time to look at your boyfriend, his half lidded eyes meeting yours instantly. "You did not strike me as the type of guy to edge himself that much."

"Just go to sleep."

BONUS

You roll over to tentatively search Sunghoon's bedside table, ignoring the sound of the lube bottle hitting the floor, until the cold screen of your phone meets your spread hand.

Sunghoon is snoring lightly behind you, his nose nuzzled against your nape, and you hope to not wake him up as you unlock your phone. You recoil when the light that feels like a million suns momentarily blinds you, but even that is not enough to discourage you from completing the life-or-death task ahead of you.

You open up messages—promptly ignoring Jay's "never do this shit again. you two are nasty."— and click on Jungwon's chat, not wasting time to watch the several unloaded video files sitting in it (you can easily recognize the blonde silhouette of Jake's hair in half of them, so you're free to assume it's nothing of particular importance anyway) to type a quick text.

05:34 AM. You: mission accomplished ;p (cancel the hiking thing we planned for next week unless you carry me yourself. your girl can't walk)

Shockingly enough, he replies within the minute.

05:35 AM. twin: you shameless being (a whole week is crazy)

05:37 AM. twin: whatever, but I'm dragging you out for brunch so you figure out your means of transportation yourself. we need to catch up

05:38 AM. You: crazy night for both of us i assume

05:38 AM. twin: oh you have no idea

[041ahy]

── ☆ 𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑹𝑨 𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑺𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮

愛 ꒰ 𝒔𝒊𝒎 𝒋𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 ꒱

⌗ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 — Jake chose Fortnite over his girlfriend for 4 hours. Now he’s hard, ignored, and emotionally destroyed. Lesson learned: Never skip skincare night for a Victory Royale.

⌗𝒘𝒄: 3k┆ ⌗𝒕𝒘: smut (MDNI), oral (male rec), suggestive themes, strong language, bratty reader, blue balls(kinda?), references to period sex, jake has zero shame/horny (are we surprised). Lmk if missing any!

⌗ 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ⟢ idol bf jake x female reader

⌗ 愛 like 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 i‘ma need your skin, don’t give a fuck where the penis been ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Jake was in her goddamn chair again.

Her chair. The one she picked out in pastel pink and white, the one she assembled herself while watching “Love Island” reruns and drinking strawberry milk. But no, of course, he had claimed it like it was his birthright—just because she traded him the gaming space for unlimited takeout. A fair deal at the time, but she hadn’t known it meant selling her soul.

And what was he doing now?

Fucking Fortnite.

“BROOOOOOOOOO—GET FUCKED!! GET ABSOLUTELY SHITTED ON,” Jake roared into his mic like a frat boy in a Monster energy ad. His stupid-ass GFuel cup rattled beside him while his legs swung like a happy child on a swing.

On her bed, in front of her vanity, YN was trying to live her best life.

Pink bunny headband on? Yes

Face mask freshly spread? Yes

Taylor Swift playing softly in the background? Yes

Peace? NO

Because Ni-ki, over the headphones, screamed at the top of his lungs:

“JAAAAAAKE YOU NOOOOOOB, YOU GOT SNIPED BY A BOT?!”

She blinked at her reflection. Breathed in. Breathed out. Ignored it.

She continued applying her lip mask like a classy bitch, mouthing along to “Cruel Summer.” She had plans tonight. Plans to feel soft and pretty and hydrated, not listen to her boyfriend verbally assault teenagers on the internet.

But then.

Then.

“HEESEUNG YOU CAN’T AIM FOR SHIT, WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN THIS SQUAD?!”

Jake’s voice literally rattled her moisturizer bottles.

That was the final fucking straw.

She ripped off her bunny headband like a WWE wrestler ready to throw down and screamed:

“SIM JAEYUN, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

There was silence for a glorious two seconds.

“…Sorry baby,” he said, innocent. “I’ll lower it—”

He didn’t. He got louder.

Then louder, even louder: “NIKI COVER ME I GOTTA HEAL—AHH SHIT HE’S ON ME!!”

Oh.

Oh okay.

This motherfucker.

YN stood, her feet silent on the floor as she approached, the smirk already curling her lips. If he wanted to play games tonight, then so would she. Just not the kind with pixels and victory royales.

Because she was about to get him good. Distract him so hard he’d never look at a loot box again.

Four hours of gaming and zero hours of her?

Yeah.

Not on her watch.

ᯓ★

She had a plan.

A devious, sinful, girlfriend-of-the-year level plan.

Jake wanted to act like she didn’t exist? Bet.

In the bathroom, she slipped out of her bunny pajamas and into a tight black shorts clinging like a second skin, and that tank top—the one hugging her chest in all the right ways, the one with the slightly loose strap that always made Jake’s brain melt into soup. A peek of her lace bra for extra devastation.

He was gonna suffer.

She peeked out of the bathroom door like a little villain.

And what the fuck.

This man—her boyfriend, her love, the person who once cried over a scratch on her finger—had not moved. Not one fucking inch. He was still hunched over like a shrimp in her damn pink chair, headset on, mouth moving at the speed of light.

“YOU STUPID—NIKI, YOU USED THE RIFT TOO EARLY! I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“HEESEUNG, BACK ME UP I’M GETTING THIRD-PARTIED!!”

Voice louder than ever. Hands flailing. Jake was in full gamer mode.

She stared at him like he just slapped her with a fish.

Then—oh of course—the screen lit up with a glowing banner:

#1 VICTORY ROYALE

The characters on screen, all dressed in Fortnite-fied outfits, were now dancing to their own damn choreo. Their Fortnite emote. The bass of XO thundered through his headphones as they celebrated.

“LET’S GOOOOOOO,” Jake screamed like he just won the lottery. “WE’RE BUILT DIFFERENT!”

Niki was screeching. Heeseung was singing. Jake was basically twerking in her chair out of joy.

YN blinked.

YN sighed.

YN turned her ass right around and went back into the bathroom.

Fine.

She’d really doll herself up now.

If he wasn’t gonna pay attention to her willingly, then she’d make sure he had no fucking choice but to notice—and then suffer when she left him high, dry, and with a very inconvenient… problem to solve.

Because tonight?

The only thing Jake was gonna win was a raging case of blue balls.

ᯓ★

Smacking on her gloss with finality, YN stared hard at her reflection. Just gloss and a little blush. No heavy glam. No effort, really. And yet—she looked hot. Hair tied back, lips glistening, shorts practically painted on, and that smug little sparkle in her eyes.

Jake was about to get humbled.

Hard.

She stepped out, confident, ready to watch his jaw hit the fucking desk.

Instead?

There he was.

Still in the goddamn chair.

Her chair.

Lobby screen on.

Ready for another fucking round.

Mouse clicking like he was solving world hunger.

She blinked.

No.

Nope.

Not today.

She strutted toward him like a lioness to her prey, arms crossed, hips swaying with silent murder vibes.

“Jake,” she called, her voice sweet with venom.

He grunted. Not even a glance. Not even a full syllable.

Just a half-muttered, “Mm, sorry babe… one sec…”

Oh.

One sec?

Not a look. Not a turn. Just vibes of disrespect.

As she stood there, dead silent, she watched his screen—and saw the moment.

Jake’s health bar was flashing red. Panic in the game. Some 12-year-old Fortnite demon was taking him out with a gold pump shotgun.

And so—she did it.

She reached forward… and pressed Exit Match.

Just one little click.

And then—

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—BABE, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Jake let out a scream so visceral, it could’ve summoned demons. He spun toward her, arms flailing like he just lost custody of his firstborn child.

“You ruined it! I was about to clutch! Heeseung gave me his flopper and everything—OH MY GOD I WAS TOP THREE, BABE, I WAS TOP THREE!!”

She didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared at him dead in the eye.

Unbothered. Lip gloss gleaming. Arms folded.

Jake, mid-rant, stopped.

And then he saw her.

Really saw her.

What the fuck?

His anger? Gone.

His words? Gone.

His breath? Gone.

His dic—yeah, never mind.

All that came out of his mouth was:

“…oh fuck.”

Jake was done.

Like—cooked, fried, and served.

Because what the actual fuck.

Why hadn’t he noticed earlier?

This wasn’t her usual pastel PJs with the little clouds on them. This wasn’t her bunny slippers and fuzzy robe.

No.

She was in that tank top.

Those shorts.

The ones he had specifically told her should be “illegal in this household.” The ones that had him malfunctioning every time she bent over to grab her charger.

And now?

She was standing in front of him, all glossed lips and evil smirks, like the goddamn final boss to his horny little heart.

Jake’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, his teeth pulling at the bottom one as his eyes slowly dragged over her body like a man in a trance.

“Babe… you look—fucking hell, you look so hot right now,” he muttered, like he couldn’t believe it himself.

YN scoffed hard, rolling her eyes like it physically hurt her.

“Oh now I’m hot? What happened during the last four hours, huh? Did your mic deafen your common sense?”

Jake had the audacity to look sheepish, his hand rubbing the back of his neck like some rom-com himbo.

“…I was just, y’know… focused.”

“Focused?” she repeated. “Right. On Fortnite. Not your girlfriend.”

She turned to walk away, the shake of her hips pure evil—but he was fast.

Jake caught her wrist, tugging her gently back.

“Babe—c’mon. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just… got carried away. I missed you.”

She narrowed her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the smirk on her face was already creeping back in. She resisted… or at least made it look like she was.

But they both knew.

Jake was weak for her.

And she? She thrived off it.

He pulled her onto his lap, one arm slipping around her waist while the other slid along her back, warm and possessive. She barely settled before she felt it—his hard-on pressing into her through his sweats.

“Oh my God,” she scoffed again, louder this time, eyes wide. “You’re actually hard? From that? Are you that easy?”

Jake groaned softly, burying his face into her neck. “Can you blame me? Look at you…”

She smirked as he kissed her skin, lips trailing up her jaw, hands gripping her hips like he was anchoring himself to reality. Their lips met—It started soft but only for a second.

Because then Jake kissed her like he was starving.

Teeth. Tongue. A low, muffled groan from his throat as she bit down on his bottom lip, tugging it just enough to make him growl under his breath. His hands roamed—sliding up her tank, gripping at the dip of her waist, tracing the curve of her spine like he wanted to memorize her skin.

She shifted in his lap, slowly grinding down, and God—Jake swore under his breath.

“Shit—baby,” he gasped, holding onto her tighter.

His lips left hers only to trail down her jaw, kissing down to her neck like he had no control. Like her skin was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

One hand was already sneaking under her shirt, inching higher, fingertips brushing the edge of her bra—

Until she stopped him.

Deadpan.

Eyes locked on his.

“I’m on my period.”

Silence.

Jake blinked once.

Twice.

His jaw dropped open like someone had disconnected his Wi-Fi.

“You’re WHAT?!” he choked, voice breaking like a 13-year-old boy. “You—BABE. You did all that—grinding—and—and—making out—and you’re telling me NOW?!”

She shrugged innocently. “Didn’t think it was relevant… until you started acting like a horny puppy.”

Jake collapsed dramatically into her shoulder with a loud groan. “I’ve never been played like this in my life.”

“Aww,” she cooed mockingly, patting his head. “Poor baby.”

He looked up at her, eyes wide with desperation and zero shame.

“…But you can still help me, right? I mean—it’s not illegal. There’s other ways—”

SLAP.

Right across his arm.

“I am not jerking you off because you ignored me for Fortnite.”

Jake whimpered. “But you’re so hot when you’re mean.”

“Jake, shut up before I make it worse.”

He blinked. “Worse how—?”

She leaned close, lips brushing his ear, voice a soft dangerous whisper.

“Next time, I’ll put on the red lingerie you love… and then go to sleep. Alone.”

Jake’s soul left his body.

And YN?

Well, she’d never felt more powerful in her life.

YN walked off, hips swaying like a taunt, lip gloss still gleaming, shorts still hugging her just right—and Jake?

Jake was following.

Actually, more like stumbling after her. Sweats hanging dangerously low, hair a mess, breath ragged.

And yeah, he was still hard. Painfully. Desperately.

Tragically.

“Baby, please—fuck, you can’t just do that to me,” he groaned, voice wrecked, practically dragging his feet behind her. “You got me standing here with a full-on situation. This is evil. This is, like—relationship abuse.”

She snorted as she reached the fridge, casually pulling out a bottle of water like her boyfriend wasn’t behind her dying a slow, horny death.

He leaned against the counter, palming himself shamelessly like a man with zero pride left.

“I’ll do anything,” Jake said, eyes wild. “I’m literally begging here. Mouth, hand, I don’t care. You could breathe in my direction and I’d probably—fuck—please.”

YN turned slowly, sipping her water, completely unbothered. “You should’ve thought of that four hours ago, when I was putting on my face mask and you were yelling at Ni-ki for stealing your kill.”

Jake groaned like she stabbed him. “Ni-ki did steal my kill.”

“And now you want me to breathe on it now?” she asked, voice low, sultry. “Damn, Fortnite really got you down bad.”

“Fortnite didn’t do this,” Jake snapped, eyes dropping to her body for the hundredth time. “You did. Walking around like a fucking fantasy with those shorts and that top—baby, I swear to god, I’m one second away from dropping to my knees and praying for release.”

“Not my problem, lover boy.”

And then—then she dropped to her knees.

Right there in front of him, like a literal fantasy scene. Jake’s brain short-circuited on the spot.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, watching her fingers toy with the drawstring of his sweats. His breath caught as her fingertips brushed low, eyes locked on his while she tilted her head—smirking.

“Baby…” he whispered, hands already tangling in her hair.

She tugged the waistband slightly, just enough to expose the waistband of his boxers, just enough to see his hips twitch beneath her touch. Her lips curled into a smirk as she looked up at him.

He looked destroyed. Jaw clenched. Knuckles white on the counter. Eyes glazed over like he was trying so hard not to lose it.

“Babe,” he croaked. “Please.”

And then—

She stood up.

Looked him dead in the eyes.

And said, “Nah.”

Jake stared at her like he just got divorced mid-proposal.

“WHAT?!”

She winked, skipping past him like a Disney villain in booty shorts. “You got hands, baby. Use ’em.”

“Wait, wait—baby, please, I’m actually in pain. Like real, physical pain. My dick thinks we’re in a hostage situation.”

She giggled. Actually giggled.

And that sound alone made him throb harder.

Jake dropped his head against the fridge.

“I swear to God, I’ve never been played like this in my life.”

And that night, Jake learned two things:

1. Ignoring your girlfriend for four hours is never a good idea.

2. And cold showers? Do nothing.

ᯓ★

# 𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆 — MDNI (18+)

Jake was barely holding himself together, every breath coming out shaky and thick with need. His hands trembled at her waist, eyes dark and desperate. “Baby, please… I’m this close to losing my goddamn mind.”

YN’s fingers slid under the waistband of his sweats, tracing just enough to make him shiver. “You want me to fix you, don’t you?”

He groaned, biting his lip hard, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth brushed against his hip, teasing at the edge of his waistband.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Please. I need you… I need you to fucking take care of this.”

Her lips curled into a wicked smile before she dipped lower, tongue flicking teasingly over his skin as she slowly, deliberately peeled back the fabric.

His body tensed, every nerve ending alive as he trembled beneath her. His low, needy moans filled the room, his grip tightening, voice breaking with raw want.

“Fuck, babe… harder, please. Don’t fucking stop,” he begged, voice hoarse but urgent, eyes dark and desperate.

YN smiled against his cock, taking him even deeper to drive him wild, letting him unravel under her touch, drawing out every shudder and gasp.

Jake’s head fell back, a low, guttural groan ripping from his throat. “Fuck, babe… yeah—just like that.”

Her mouth moved with expert patience, warm and slick, every touch and flick designed to unravel him completely.

His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as his moans grew louder, desperate and raw. “God, you’re killing me. Don’t stop—please, don’t stop.”

Her hands pressed firmly against his hips, steadying him as he trembled, breath catching in ragged gasps.

“Shit, yeah—right there,” he panted, voice breaking with need. “I’m gonna—fuck!”

With a strangled cry, Jake lost himself, his whole body shuddering as she worked him through every pulse and wave of release.

Jake was still breathless, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead as he leaned down, brushing YN’s cheek with a thumb—gentle, affectionate, eyes full of that stupidly soft post-release gaze.

“You did so good, baby…” he murmured, voice low and wrecked. “Like… Olympic gold medal level good.”

YN rolled her eyes, still catching her own breath, lips glossy and smug. “Yeah, well. Maybe next time don’t ignore me for four goddamn hours.”

He brushed his fingers along YN’s jaw with the kind of softness that almost made her forget he’d just spent four hours screaming about Fortnite.

“You’re literally… the love of my life,” he whispered, voice hoarse and still riding the high. “Like, if I died right now, I’d go peacefully. Possibly with a boner, but peacefully.”

YN raised an unimpressed brow. “Don’t start.”

“I’m serious,” he grinned, nuzzling into her neck. “I think my soul left my body. You gave me closure. You should charge for this.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Romeo. Go take a cold shower.”

But Jake just hummed, dragging his fingers down her arm slowly. “Mmm… or… hear me out…”

“Nope.”

“What if,” he said, lips brushing her ear, “we stopped letting a tiny biological inconvenience get in the way of love? I’m talking… spiritual bonding. Ritualistic passion. Like ancient tribes did before tampons.”

YN pulled back slowly, blinking. “I swear to God, if this is about period sex—”

“I’m just saying,” Jake said, voice dipping low, lips dangerously close to her ear, “if it ever… drips or stains or, y’know, gets a little messy…”

She pulled back slowly. “Jake.”

“I don’t care.”

“Jake.”

He smirked. “I’ll clean the sheets. I’ll wash ‘em twice. I’ll throw out the mattress, baby—I’ll buy us a whole new bed. Hell, I’ll get it custom made. Blood and cumproof.”

YN stared, deadpan.

“A bed,” she repeated, “that’s blood and cumproof.”

“For us,” he said proudly, like he was pitching a Shark Tank idea. “Sturdy. Memory foam. Possibly water-resistant. And red sheets, so you won’t even notice the—”

She threw her hair tie at him so hard it snapped off his forehead.

“You’re unwell.”

Jake winced but laughed anyway. “Tell me that’s not the most romantic shit you’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, it’s something,” she muttered, walking away. “Something I’m reporting to the authorities.”

He followed her down the hallway like a puppy. “So that’s a soft yes? Medium yes?”

YN didn’t look back. “That’s a go sleep in your Fortnite chair.”

Jake groaned. “I’m not afraid of a little bodily fluid! That’s love!”

⌗ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — first time writing smut….. I tried, I really did sorry if it wasn’t that good cus I deadass dk how to write smut. Do you guys prefer the longer fics or just short ones like this? Lmk >_<. Thank you for reading <3

Love, author nai

[wildernessuntothemselves]

lazy cat hybrid reader + too much energy dog hybrid gyu in heat 😔 maybe switch/switch ^^’

"Are you seriously sitting there and jerking off while starting at me?" You scoff at the dog hybrid on the other side of the room from you and he quickly takes his hands out of his pants grabs onto the pillow next to him.

"I wasn't jerking off." He croaks and you laugh derisively.

"Yeah and I'm not pretty." You say mockingly but the puppy is too dumb to understand the sarcasm and answers dreamily. "You are pretty." He breathes, hand unconsciously doing back to grab at his cock. "So pretty."

"And you're gross." You turn your nose up at him and he whines, getting off the couch and crawling towards you quickly. You curl up in a ball and unfurl your claws, scratching at him when he gets close.

He whimpers as if he doesn't get why you did that, and sits down on his ass a small distance from you, nursing his scratched up cheek.

"Kitty, it hurts." He whines.

"I wouldn't have scratched you if you didn't jump on me like that." You explain without remorse, but he shakes his head. "Not that. This."

He leans back on his heels, emphasizing his bulge to you that is contained in sweatpants that leave nothing to the imagination. You'd be lying if you said that didn't make your mouth water a bit, but you're not a dog like him and you're certainly not going to let yourself fall for your base needs just because a stupid pup is waving his cock at you.

"Then you should've told our owners that you're going into heat." You tell him snottily.

"But then they would've taken me away to a breeding center." He mumbles sadly.

"So?" You ask as if you didn't care, and Beomgyu looks down dejectedly. "Did you think I'd care about that?"

"You cared when our owners brought Danbi over for a playdate." He mumbles under his breath.

Your temper flares at the mention of the dog hybrid's name. "I was saving you from getting involved with a bitch like her."

"She was nice to me." He argues back.

"She was just being pretend nice. She was awful to me which you would've noticed if you didn't have your nose firmly lodged inside her asshole. But I guess friendships mean nothing to you and you'd rather get your dick wet than stand up for your friends."

"No, you're right I'm sorry." He moves towards you, his lands smoothing up and down your legs in a soothing manner, getting the tension to leave your body. "You mean much more to me than anyone else."

Your heart flutters at his words but you choose to decidedly ignore it, focusing instead on how his big hands inch up and up with every passing second.

"Puppy, what are you doing?" You raise an eyebrow at him, and the glazed over look in his eyes clears up as he realizes he's been caught yet again.

"I just--" He tries to think, hands squeezing your thighs in distress. "I really need you."

"You know I can't take your cock. Kittens aren't meant to take such a big cock." You're telling the truth--cats and dogs aren't supposed to fuck--but you were being intentionally goading with your wording, knowing it will drive him crazy.

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. "We can try. I'll stop if it hurts too much."

"No. You'll rip my pussy apart." You shut him down. "You should've told our owners."

He looks at you, betrayed at you bring it up again. "Fine, maybe I will. Maybe I'll ask them to arrange another playdate with Danbi."

You raise your arm to scratch his face again but he sees it coming, grabbing your arm and pinning it to your side as he takes your lips in a kiss. You bite his lip punishingly but he doesn't care, moaning against your mouth and kissing you harder.

"Don't want her. Don't want any other bitch. Just want my pretty pussy."

"I am not yours."

"I would like to see anyone else try claim you." He growls menacingly and your pussy quivers at his dominating aura. It just makes you want to make him melt again for you.

"You can have my thighs." You tell him. He opens his mouth to protest but you beat him to it. "Either my thighs or nothing."

He grumbles but pulls back, pulling his pants down and spitting on his hand before bring it to his cock to lubricate it. He places his cock between your thighs and bucks his hips experimentally, moaning out and seemingly content with the feeling.

"Yeah, that's it. You know how to be good. You just need some training."

"Yes, pretty." He moans, lost as soon as his dick gets some stimulation.

"Am I prettier than her?"

"So much prettier. No one is prettier than you." He babbles, dick thrusting between your thighs. "Do you went me to tell our owners about my heat?"

"No, I can take care of my puppy. Won't need anyone else." You tell him and he melts, cumming all over your pretty dress that the owners put you in and that Beomgyu loves so much.

But the orgasm does nothing to calm his cock, and it still stand erect between your thighs.

"You're still hard?" You ask incredulously and he shrugs. "I'm in heat."

"Well, what now?" You ask awkwardly, staring at his dick. "Do you wanna do it again?"

He nods. "Let me rut against your pussy this time. Maybe that will help. I won't put it in. I promise."

"Beomgyu..." You hesitate.

"You just said you'll take care of me." He reminds you and you huff. "Fine."

"Thank you." Beomgyu yips happily, unceremoniously taking off your underwear. He lets his cock rest against your pussy and holds it down with his thumb so that when he ruts forward, his whole length rubs against your slit.

"Oh." You breathe out and his ears perk at the sound. He cocks his head to the side and ruts against you again, ears twitching at the restrained sounds you try to keep in as his movements grow more vigorous with excitement.

"You like it, kitty?" He asks, a grin on his face, and you stick you tongue out stubbornly. He laughs and angles his hips in such a way so as that his cock would brush against your clit each time.

He seems to be more focused on trying to illicit pleasure out of you than working towards his own orgasm. But the dumb pup is so excited and turned on by your sounds and the way your tits jiggle with each thrust that he's falling over the edge before he even realizes it.

"No, no," He whines at his premature orgasm, but his hips continue to thrust forward as he covers you in another load.

This time, when his cock doesn't go down, you don't mind it so much. Maybe you'll get to cum this time. But Beomgyu is a greedy little mutt.

"Let me put it in. Just the tip." He pleads.

"It won't fit!"

"Just the tip." He coaxes, thumb moving down to your whole and dipping ever so slightly in. You know he can feel you clench around it because he says, "I know you need it too."

"Fuck you." You let out defeatedly, and he knows he has you.

You cringe as he lines the large head of his cock with your pussy and pushes in, anticipating the pain, but true to his word he stops as soon as he feels resistance.

With just the tip in, he pulls back and thrusts back in, and as you soon realize, this is pure torture--for you more than him. At least he seems to be getting off on it despite the massive restraint the excitable pup is having to endure. As for you, it just feels like being teased with no hope of cumming. You want him to fill you up. You want to cum on his cock, but you're too scared to ask for it.

Somehow, the stupid brute notices how needy you are, and moves his hand up to flick his thumb over your clit, giving you the much needed stimulation you've been craving.

"Oh fuck, Beommie. Keep doing that." You keen, not caring about how you're only exciting him further, just hoping he'll make you cum this time.

And he does. He's unrefined and sloppy, but he's earnest and you're so, so turned on.

"Yes, yes!" You mewl, clenching around him as you cum, but he surprisingly takes his cock out, choosing to spurt his cum on your dress once again.

"You didn't cum inside." You state, confused, and he mumbles sheepishly. "You didn't say I could."

How is he so adorable about something so lewd? You want to reach out and pet him for being so cute but you hold back, looking away from his puppy eyes so you wouldn't be tempted to.

As you look down to your dress, you realize it's basically ruined now, wet and sticky from multiple loads, and yet as you stare in disgust at the sodden material, you see that Beomgyu is still hard.

"Is it seriously not down?"

"I didn't knot you yet."

You gasp at the audacity. "And you're not going to."

"Come on, kitty. You know it's the only way to make this go away. My body needs to feel like I've bred you." He exclaims and you look away, cheeks burning.

"Well, I'm exhausted." You excuse lamely and he snorts. "You're not even doing anything. Just lay on your tummy and let me use you." He growls and you raise an eyebrow at him so he adds. "Please."

"Such a perv."

"I'm not a perv. Just need you to present yourself for mating." He mumbles the last part quietly.

"Perv." You repeat but obey, still refusing to admit to yourself that you're enjoying this.

Once you flop on your tummy, he grabs your hips and pulls your ass up in the air. "Just like that." He purrs, fingers running along your slit. "Good kitty ready to be mounted."

"Just shut up and do it."

"Yes, kitty." He climbs over you, pressing his big cock into you.

"Ooof." You whimper as he fills you up, going deeper this time.

"Good pussy." He slurs, already lost in the feeling of your pussy but trying to comfort you with kisses to your shoulder. "Just relax. You can take it."

Surprisingly, you do. You manage to take his whole length and Beomgyu is full of praises for you.

"You're doing so good for me. Being such a good mate." He coos, holding you close as his hips thrust back and forth, fucking you from behind. "You're so pretty. And so nice. I love you."

You breath hitches at his words but you dismiss them. He's just pussy-drunk. He'll say he loves anything he can fuck right now.

But it's hard to ignore it when he keeps repeating it over and over, getting more and more loud as he gets lost in the pleasure.

"Fuck, puppy, don't say that." You gasp as your body rocks with every thrust. "You know we can't."

"I don't care. I love you. I love you so much." He moans in your ear, one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up against his onslaught, while the other snakes between your legs to rub at your pussy. "Please love me too."

Fuck, he's being so unfair right now. He can't do this to you when he's fucking you so good. So you bite lip to stay quiet, tasting the blood on your tongue.

"Please!" Beomgyu cries out, his hips losing rhythm as he nears his end but tries to hold off. You clench around him, coaxing him to let go. "Come on, pup, cum for me. I know you're dying to knot me good."

"Please, please..." He continues to beg even as his hips stutter and you feel the base of his cock swell up.

"That's it. There you go." You wince as he pushes his knot into you. But Beomgyu is still keen to pleasure you too.

"Cum for me. Need you to feel good too. Please." He whimpers brokenly. Oh, if he knows just how good he's making you feel. He's too rough and fast, too sloppy and eager, but his moans in your ear and need for you radiating off him in waves more than makes up for it.

"Ah Beomgyu, I'm cumming, puppy. I'm cumming--oh" You shudder, feeling his seed fill you up as your pussy tries to clench around him but his knot is just too big.

You double over in pain and pleasure, lying still for a while before registering that Beomgyu is licking the side of your neck soothingly and whispering reassurances in your ear.

"You did so good. You're so perfect." He says, and you can hear the pain in his voice but you don't dare address it, just letting him comfort you as you wait for his knot to go down.

[b1mbodoll]

how can u say bull hoon like i’m in a crisis now. just thinking about beefy hoon being brought into a new farm and immediately becoming obsessed with the sweet little farmhand who’s in charge of collecting his seed. everyone’s always talking about how impeccable the quality of his seed is and how they’re gonna have to have him breed with the cow girls. but why would hoon go near those girls when he can just dump his load into his pretty little farmer and make her carry his calf :( just thinking about her all round and swollen with his baby has him pumping load after load into her

pairings: park sunghoon x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + courting + oral + scent kink + strength kink + begging + jealousy + pregnancy

💌: help u sent me !!!! into a crisis im going to think about this for literally forevwr like i cant rn omfgkfsoskkfjfkskdnf i need him ps it doesnt matter what u look like i promise bull! hoon is large and in fucking charge!!!!!!!!!

bull! hoon is no stranger to sex. sometimes farmers would slap a wad of cash on his handler’s desk n he’d be sent to the field where a scared little cow hybrid was waiting for him to take what he wants, but he never did. instead he’d stay away from the heifer n do his own thing until her owner would get angry n snatch their payment, cursing sunghoon as the pair leave because how dare the bull not seduce his hybrid!!!!!!

his handler gets fed up with the constant failed breeding attempts n sends him your way, tired of dealing with such a stubborn bull. when sunghoon lays his eyes on you it’s like his personality does a complete 180. he’s no longer cold and distant n is so careful with you because ur such a tiny little thing in comparison to the buff bull.

when you try introducing him to ur sweet cow hybrids sunghoon is so distraught because he’s been courting you for weeks n this is the final nail in the coffin, he can’t keep pretending like he doesn’t wanna pound you til you’re crying. completely unaware of the bull boy’s feelings you leave the pair alone, tending to your other hybrids in the meantime.

sunghoon’s snorting and stomping his feet because he’s so angry!!! he doesn’t want to fuck a cowgirl he wants you!!!! wants to stuff you full of cum n make you a slut for his dick til all you can think about is getting bred :( sends the cowgirl back to her pen n waits for you in the pasture

when you return to check on them you’re surprised to find the bull alone, slipping into the fenced in area with him before asking, “hi hoonie, what’s wrong? did something happen?” he nearly caves at the sound of your sweet voice laced with worry, but he maintains his composure. “what’s wrong?” he snorts angrily, “what’s wrong is i’ve been tryin’ to show you i’m worthy of being your mate but you won’t give me the time of day!” the shock is evident in your face and hoon cant believe you really didnt know his intentions. “wha? hoonie i can’t be your mate! you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, y’just haven’t met the right cow!” you continue making excuses for him and he’s had enough, biceps flexing as he shoves you facefirst into the dirt.

the display of strength has your cunt dripping and you can only pray he doesn’t notice. but he’s a top hybrid, the best of the best and his sharp nose instantly picks up on your arousal. “stay down” he grunts, making sure you’re properly presenting for him before making his way behind you and tearing your shorts off with his large hands, leaving you clad only in your tiny tank top and cotton panties drenched in your juices.

your bull stuffs his face between your thighs n shoves his nose right up against your cunt, inhaling deeply and becoming obsessed with how good your pussy smells. “if y’can’t be my mate then why are you so wet, human?” you’re so embarrassed n your hole clenches around nothing at his words. “‘s normal sunghoon! what else do you expect after treating me like this?” he ignores you completely n rips your panties off, throwing them to the side before digging in, mouth slurping at your pussy like he’s fucking starving.

his tongue is so fucking long and he’s so skilled, it’s not long before you’re creaming. “you’re ready.” is all he says before lining his dick up with your sloppy cunt, filling you in one quick thrust. he moans so loud you’re sure the entire farm can hear him, feeling sorry for your hybrids because you can’t bring yourself to make him pull out. “you wanna cum again, sweetheart?” you nod your head like crazy, wanting nothing more than to milk his dick for all it’s worth. “then fucking beg.” sunghoon is a dirty pervert and you’re just as bad, begging instantly with no hesitation. “please hoonie! wanna be your breeding bitch, need your thick cum inside now! wanna cum with you n feel you impregnate me, please!” he’s in fucking heaven, cums so hard n so much it’s no wonder he’s a prized bull, fills you up so well it makes you black out.

after he makes you cum again sunghoon carries you inside, tucking you into your bed before taking his spot next to you. when you wake up the following morning your body is so sore and you still feel so full because sunghoon is insatiable and couldn’t resist fucking you til he passed out from exhaustion. as you make your way around the farm to check on your hybrids you can’t help but notice how they’re staring at you, jake, your sweet dog hybrid is even outright glaring at you because how could sunghoon get to you first? it’s only fair if he gets a turn because he was here before that damn bull!

[b1mbodoll]

˚ʚ masterlist ɞ˚

IVE

omorashi with wonyoung (wy holding)

g!p wolf hybrid wonyoung

cnc with yujin

cnc somno with wonyoung

g!p wolf hybrid wonyoung bitches you

TXT

perv! owner! soobin x cow hybrid! reader

giving yeonjun a bj while he’s driving

taehyun + degradation

ZB1

stepbrother! matthew

stepbrother! matthew pt. 2

stepbrother! matthew pt. 3

chikan + jiwoong

omorashi + jiwoong

hentai addict! matthew

mean dom! hanbin

&TEAM

wolf hybrid! nicho x bunny hybrid! reader

breeding with euijoo

cheating on euijoo with nicho (except ej knows)

hentai addict! stepbrother! nicho

nicho taking ur virginity

AESPA

noncon with ghostface! karina + ghostface! winter

g!p owner! karina x hybrid! reader

phonesex with winter

g!p stepmom! karina

aeri with sensitive tits

g!p stepsis! ning + drugging

dom! giselle

scissoring with winter

anal with g!p ningning

giselle x puppygirl gf

LOONA

g!p stepsis! yves

STAYC

inexperienced! stepsister! seeun

TWICE

g!p reader x milf! stepmom! jihyo

noncon with momo + jihyo

wolf hybrid! momo

hentai addict! mina

hentai addict! momo

ENHYPEN

making out with jake

omorashi with jay (reader holding)

omorashi with jay (jay holding)

omorashi with en- hyungline

dubcon breeding with heeseung

omorashi with sunghoon (sunghoon holding)

babytrapping with jake (both ways)

painal with jake

foursome with 02z

stepbrother! sunghoon

freeuse with stepbrothers! 02z

hentai-esque stepbro! jay

breeding with stepdad! jake

exhibitionism with stepdad! jake

stepbrothers! heehoon humiliating bf jake

tentacles with stepbro! jay

tentacle monster! jay

puppy hybrid! jake

cumeating with jake

perv! bff! hoon

stepbro! + hybrid! jake thoughts

bull hybrid! sunghoon

titsucking with en- hyungline

brat tamer! jake

kitty hybrid! jungwon

jay + bdsm

titty enthusiast jungwon

hoon x succubus! reader

panther hybrid! jay thought

stepbro! hee thought

bull hybrid! hoon thoughts

perv virgin jake x bimbo reader

hoon + dildo training

stepbrother! heeseung

jake punishing brat! reader thoughts

puppy jake + toys

pussy addict puppy hybrid! jake

wolf hybrid! jake x cat hybrid! reader

jay x reader cucking en- hyungline

exhibitionism with heeseung

biting with sunghoon

sugar daddy! jay

fingering with jakehoon

vamp! sunoo with an oral + tit fixation

cnc with vamp! jake

somno + anal with vamp! hoon

baby vamp! won

noncon biting with vamp! won

NCT DREAM

degradation with mark

babytrapping with jeno

RED VELVET

anal + omorashi with g!p seulgi

LE SSERAFIM

breeding with g!p yunjin

bratty stepsis! chaewon

sorority sister stepcest! with yunjin

sub! pervert yunjin

noncon with roommate zuha

g!p gamer sakura

bitching g!p yunjin

threesome with g!p kkura + g!p chae

yunjin + oral

sugary mommy kkura x brat reader

XDINARY HEROES

oral with hentai addict! jun han

jooyeon + overstimulation

[axrix]

pairings: perv! sunghoon x fem cow hybrid! reader

warnings: lactation kink, corruption kink , hybrids, humping, praise kink, pet names, squirt, sex without protection.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

perv! sunghoon who adopted u, a cow hybrid only to take advantage of u ><

perv! sunghoon who just want to watch u lactating.

perv! sunghoon who at first is the most sweet person, always saying that u can trust him bc he want to be the best owner to u.

perv! sunghoon who is slowly making u a cow for his use.

perv! sunghoon who doesnt buy u bras so u will get soaked ur shirts :(

perv! sunghoon to tell u to not be shy and not cry when u make a disaster in ur shirt infort of him.

perv! sunghoon to tell u that he will clean it, licking the shirt without u notice just to taste ur sweet milk <3

perv! sunghoon can be more happy when u get on heat, u dont know what is happening to you, feeling strange in your cunny.

perv! sunghoon who watch u hump a plushie trying to stop that feeling.

"what r u doing baby?" he enter to the room making u feel ashamed bc what u were doing is dirty

"i-im sorry, i just-, i dont know what is happening to me" u look at him almost crying, but he can move his eyes from ur shirt dripping w ur milk bc ur tits are so sensitive

perv! sunghoon who take ur nipples making u moan and start milking u, you start moving on his lap feeling his bulge through his pants in contact w ur bare cunt.

perv! sunghoon who tells u that he knows the solution moving u to his lap and saying that he could drink ur milk bc maybe that makes u feel better, making u accept bc if it the only solution :(

perv! sunghoon who from that moment cant stop drinking ur milk even if ur dont need it on that moment.

"it wont come out, please dont-" u try to convice him bc he makes ur nipples so so sensitive for keep milking u

"it wills baby, its what u made for, to be a good cow" he will make the milk to come out, feeding him

perv! sunghoon who get to fuck u, saying that is what littlecows do w their owners.

perv! sunghoon who pound roughly in your little cunny while sucks ur tities, ur milk starting to shoot out of your nipples leaving hoon's face covered in your milk.

"look baby, ur milk is getting out alone, ur such a cowslut, getting all my face wet w ur milk while i fuck ur tight cunny, u like that" u moan loud at his comments feeling how ur milk keep coming out of one nipple while hoon suck ur other nipple

perv! sunghoon who cum inside u making u squirt to the feeling of him sucking ur titties while fucking u like is the last time he will be inside u, which is not.

perv! sunghoon who corrupted u so much that u associate milking w somthing sexual.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[haneulhee]

MY L0V3LY R0B0T B0YFR!3ND p.sh

pairing — sunghoon x robotics engineer!reader synopsis — as a bored third year robotics student looking for real-life experience, why not build your own damn robot? overcome by your genius, you decide to base your prototype on a boy you were obsessed with in highschool - park sunghoon. when your roommate films and posts a tiktok of you dancing with the 'fake sunghoon', imagine the real sunghoon's surprise when he sees an oddly familiar girl (supposedly) dancing with him online. cw — profanity, suggestive, individual warnings will be added to chapters if required. genre — social media au, some written chapters taglist — send an ask to be added !

PR0F1L3S —

i. divas 💜

ii. sperm race winners 🥀

haneulhee © 2025. i do not allow anyone to upload my content on any platform without my permission [no plagiarism/translations/quotations without consent and credit].

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Every time I think I am free of the hybrid brain rot he pulls me in again 😭

Warnings: fem!reader, dog hybrid!gyu, cat hybrid!reader mean dom!reader, desperate horny gyu, ?unrequited love, dry humping, somnophilia, handjob, cumming in pants

Kitty!you (ofc) lives with rambunctious but very fluffy big dog hybrid gyu who you try to avoid most of the time because he just doesn’t seem to get how big he is, still thinking he is a lapdog and ends up smothering you everytime he tries to cuddle or groom you. He is always hurt when you reject him and his trembling wet eyes give you pause but not enough to let him come near you

Until your poor owner runs into financial trouble and can't afford to keep the heating on as much as usual and you find yourself regularly getting too cold to sleep. Beomgyu seems mostly unaffected. In fact he seems to like the cold, his large normally overheated body welcoming the change as usually your owner will have the heat cranked up very high just for your sake, leaving poor gyu forced to splay out on the floor, limbs spread in all directions and touching the cool ceramic floor (the only cool surface in the house) with his tongue lolling out as he pants the heat away

You always turned up your nose at him, feeling like it's inappropriate for him to lay out like that, shirtless and with his privates barely covered by his thin shorts but when you had complained to your owner, they sweetly but firmly reminded you that he's only like that because the heat has been turned up for you and that if you want to keep your eyes from being assaulted by the sight, you can always put the heat down.

Of course you didn't. Instead you scoffed and muttered something mean about the digusting view, hurting the big pup even more but you didn't care.

Well now the tables have turned, and you're left freezing even under all your blankets while he is happily sleeping in his bed with just a thin sheet covering him up. Bastard. You can practically feel the heat radiating off him and you yearn for it so badly you might actually make yourself suffer through the inconvenience of being near him just to get to it

You try to hold off as much as you can but between your shattering teeth and numb hands and feet, you can't help yourself. You stalk towards his bed with your blankets, not bothering to ask his permission before you curl up into his side and cover your bodies with the blankets.

"Huh?" Beomgyu wakes up confused, a bit of drool seeping at the corner of his mouth from deep sleep. Ugh.

"I'm cold. You're warm." Is all the explanation you give him and beomgyu does not ask for more. He doesn't want to mess this up, just happy you're finally accepting his touch even if begrudgingly.

You groan as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you tighter against him, burying his face in your neck to take a big whiff before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"It's okay. I'll keep you warm, kitty." You ignore the way his deep, husky voice right against your ear and the way his large hands wrapped around your frame makes you feel. This all doesn't mean anything. You're just cold and he is basically a free heater.

You try to ignore the noises he makes in his sleep--his little whimpers, his garbled moans, even the little urgent whispers of what sounds an awful lot like your name.

You ignore the feeling of something hard pressing against you at night, you even ignore the sometimes small, sometimes harsh rocking motions of his hips against you as he cried and whines about something in his dreams, pathetic voice calling out for someone to "please, please, i'll be good"

You ignore the way that makes your body tingle and your underwear get sticky. This is all just to keep warm.

But what you can't ignore is the startled way he wakes up almost every night and rushes to the toilet, spending 15 to 30 minutes at a time in there and leaving you to freeze again. No, this simply won't do. This defeats the whole purpose of your new sleeping arrangement. What good is it to get all warmed up in his embrace, wrapped in his large arms, feeling his heated breath panted against your neck, if he will rip it away from you and leave you for the cruel elements to ravage and reclaim your body in the middle of the night?

So when he starts crying in his sleep again and his hips begin to rut against you, you move your hand between your bodies to take a hold of his hard member that has been poking you for countless nights.

It takes a few seconds of coaxing before he realizes what's going on, a few seconds of his moans almost reaching a fever pitch at the sudden unexpected stimulation, before he wakes up with a gasp, his already big eyes massive with shock at finding you with your hand down his pants and jerking him off.

"Kitty, w-what--" you cut off his slurring words with a twist of your wrist that leaves him keening.

"You think you're so slick? You think I can't feel you humping my ass every night? You think I don't know that you run to the bathroom to jerk this stupid cock off so i don't wake up covered in your dirty cum?"

"I'm sorry. Can't help it. You smell so good." He cries out pathetically, his hips moving to meet your tight fist as you jerk him off. "Please don't be mad at me. Please don't stop sleeping with me. I can be good, I promise. I'll do better. I think I'm going into heat. I'll tell master to take me to a heat center so I can get it out of my system and be a good dog again. I promise I am not a perv. I know this is bad. I know I shouldn't do this. I'm sorry--"

"God, do you ever shut the fuck up." You growl, bringing his face to your and kissing him roughly, and despite all his emphatic proclamations, he immediately opens his mouth and lets you push your tongue in, moaning and sucking on it like the perv he claims he is not. He chases after your lips over and over again, all while his hips never stop fucking your fist, until you push his face away to catch your breath, strings of saliva joining you wet lips.

"You wanna go to heat center and fuck a pretty little bitch? You think any bitch would let a sick mutt like you who lusts after kitties near any of their holes? That's disgusting." You don't know why you’re so mean to him but you know that the thought of him breeding a random bitch at a pay to fuck facility makes your blood boil.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm bad. Just don't want you to be mad at me." He cries, real tears dripping down his long lashes. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll use my heat toys every night before we sleep so I can get it out of my system and be good for you. Would that be better? Please?"

"No need." You tell him, acting nonchalant but burning inside at his desperate need to please you, thriving off of it. Fuck this is so wrong but it feels so good and you can't stop. "I'll deal with your problem myself. You can't help it that you're a sick little mutt. I'll take care of you but you have to keep this between us. Master can't know or he'll take me away from you to protect me."

He whimpers at the last part and shakes his head, fucking desperately into your hand as if it will be taken away any second. "I won't. Just between us. I'm not a bad dog, not dangerous, just... just..."

He trails off in a whine, looking at you in frustration, his eyes trying to convey something to you that you're not sure you want to know so you pretend you don't see it.

"Just needy. Right?" You tell him sharply and he gasps, nodding, his fluffy puppy ears pressed down to his skull anxiously. "Yes. So needy."

"I know. Let me take care of you. Let go for kitty. I know you want to. I can feel you drenching my hand like a bitch in heat." You chuckle, rubbing your thumb quickly over his leaking head, making his breathing pause and shudder. "Well, i suppose you are. So come on, cum for me, my little bitch. But keep it down, we can't let master see you like this."

"Yes. Yes, pretty. Anything for you." He whines, and you ignore most of it, just focusing on the way he bites down on his lip so hard it breaks the skin just so he can keep his slutty cries at bay as he cums, shooting long ropes of warm cum into your hand and his pants, soaking both in his release that goes on and on until all that is left of his is a slumped, sweaty, drooling mess in your arms.

"Fuck, what a mess." You scrunch your nose, bringing you hand up to show him just some of his milky cum covering your hand.

"I'm sorry." He slurs, barely conscious. "I'll clean up."

He tries to get up but you hold him down firmly. You're not going to let go of your free heater after all you've just done to stay warm.

"Just clean up in the morning." You tell him, wiping your dirty hand on his pants.

"But I'm all sticky and gross."

"Good. I want you to sleep in your cum so you remember how nice I am to a disgusting perv like you."

[sunniques]

— 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

the one where heeseung spirals into a twisted obsession after meeting his lovely stepdaughter.

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, a/b/o au, smut

➺ WORD COUNT: 9.2k

➺ CW/TW: alpha!heeseung, omega!reader, stepcest, infidelity, age gap, obsession, possessiveness, grinding, begging, spanking, spitting, fingering, biting, daddy kink, breeding kink, size kink, hand job, pussy slaps, oral sex (f), squirting, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, knotting

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Heeseung has always had obsessive tendencies.

Ever since he was a kid, he would fixate on something (or someone) until it became his or until he grew sick of it. His parents had brushed it off as a normal alpha disposition. They claimed he was territorial like any other alpha, so there was nothing to really worry about. Even back then, Heeseung knew that obsessive was a better word to describe him. Either way, because of this enabling, he never tried to correct his behavior despite knowing it wasn’t entirely normal.

As the years passed, Heeseung was able to control himself better (for the most part). After college, nothing really grabbed his attention the way it used to, and he mistakenly thought it was because he had finally grown out of his obsessive tendencies.

That undesirable part of him lay dormant for so long that he was able to lead a normal life. He even found a nice beta to settle down with. She was older than him and willing to placate him in every way. Even though Heeseung didn’t love her, she gave her entire heart to him. His selfishness allowed him to accept everything she was willing to give him, and he never once felt bad about it. After all, his wife wanted nothing more than to support him and make him a better man. Which she sort of did. At some point, Heeseung was convinced that he was slowly shedding the obsessive part of his personality completely thanks to his wife.

That illusion shattered the moment he met his wife’s daughter.

Heeseung always knew his wife had a daughter that was in college because she told him about you on their second date. Honestly, he’d put the information in the back of his mind because his wife made it clear that you had your own life and weren’t all that interested in hers. According to her, you deviated from the typical omega because you weren’t affectionate or clingy. She made the offhand comment that your unnatural disposition is the reason you haven’t gone through your first heat despite being well past the age for it.

Even though he thought that was beyond strange, he didn’t care enough to ask more. After all, he would probably only ever see you a few times a year.

It’s a hot summer day when Heeseung meets you. His wife isn’t all that thrilled about you coming over, but apparently you need to get something from her that can’t wait for another time. There are no secrets in his marriage, but for the first time ever, his loving wife refuses to tell him what it is that you need so badly.

Heeseung comes downstairs when he hears his wife open the door. Her greeting is unenthusiastic, and he manages to catch the tail end of an awkward hug. At first he thinks it’s because of your supposed aversion to affection, but when he watches his wife shove a small bag in your hands like it’s some big inconvenience, he thinks maybe you’re not the problem.

Once he gets closer, he’s hit with an unnaturally sweet scent at full force. It’s mouth-watering and dizzying in the best way. The beast inside him wants nothing more than to bury its nose in the source and never come up for air.

“Honey!” His wife exclaims as she leads you to the living room. “Come here. I want you to meet someone.”

The second he lays his eyes on you—a pretty college girl that has yet to go through her first heat—he’s unable to control the familiar dark feeling building in his chest. His pulse starts to race, and right then he realizes that his wife hadn’t helped him break his obsessive streak at all.

Your alluring eyes and bashful smile are completely entrancing. They radiate an intense beauty he didn’t believe existed in this world. Somehow, Heeseung is able to hide the dark desire consuming him as he introduces himself. Your voice is soft and gentle when you say your name as if you’re still wary of him. He finds it adorable, and so damn tempting. Already, his cock is twitching and coming alive.

“Why didn’t your little boyfriend come with you?” Your mom’s voice yanks Heeseung out of his trance.

A sickening feeling pinches his gut. Boyfriend?

“Jake and I aren’t together anymore, mom.” You say it so indifferently that Heeseung has to hold back a sigh of relief. “I told you that last time we talked.”

Not that you having a boyfriend would have posed too much of a problem, but it definitely would’ve made things more difficult for him.

“Are you staying for dinner, Y/N?” Heeseung wonders, hoping you’ll say yes.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes shifting beside him to exchange a look with your mom. Whatever you see on her face makes you shake your head. Your pretty lips pull down slightly in genuine regret. “No—Sorry. Maybe next time.”

Heeseung resists the urge to shake off his wife’s touch when her hands snake around his arm. He can feel her smile against his bicep. It’s revolting and puzzling. Why wouldn’t she want her own daughter around?

“That’s okay, sweetie. We’ll have dinner some other time whenever you’re free.”

She sounds smug, but you don’t offer her any reaction. All you do is politely say your goodbyes before hastily leaving the house.

If Heeseung were any other man, he would’ve been happy to have his wife all to himself again. However, all he can think of is you now. His hidden stepdaughter who evoked emotions from him that are intense enough to fuel the sprouting of an obsession.

“Classes start soon,” Heeseung mentions casually the next morning. “Does Y/N usually stay on campus?”

The sour look on his wife’s face is quickly masked when she takes a sip of her coffee. “She started living with that Jake boy after she graduated high school. He has an apartment near the university.”

Heeseung tries not to sneer at the mention of the boy who had clearly been an important part of your life. “It didn’t bother you that she ran off to live with some boy so soon after finishing school?”

His wife scoffs. “She was already an adult when she decided to live with him. It’s not like I could stop her.”

More like she didn’t want to.

“Invite her to stay with us.”

The words are casual and could be seen as considerate to anyone who didn’t know of the dark intentions looming in Heeseung’s mind. His wife almost chokes on her drink when she hears his suggestion. Her eyes widened the slightest bit. An unsettling amount of rage swims in her irises as his suggestion sinks in. It’s gone within a few seconds, but he caught it.

“Honey,” her voice is tight. “That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Heeseung challenges, raising an eyebrow at the fumbling woman.

“I– She—She probably won’t want to,” his wife clears her throat to cover up how flustered she feels. “I’m sure she already made plans to stay with one of her friends instead.”

“Call her.” It’s not a suggestion anymore. “Tell her to come stay with us.”

And that’s the moment his obsession began to spiral out of control.

It’s obvious that your mother isn’t thrilled about having you around, but Heeseung feels the exact opposite. Unlike his wife’s malicious description of you, you’re so unbearably sweet and polite to him that he can’t help but be completely endeared by you. He’s not sure if it’s his natural instinct or the inappropriate feelings he has, but he basks in the emotions you evoke from the depths of his heart.

You’re a sweet girl through and through, always offering to help around the house, or keeping him company when your mom’s working late. Heeseung can tell you genuinely like to help him and spend time with him which makes him all the more crazy for you.

This is incomparable to how he feels when he realizes how comfortable you’ve gotten around him. When Heeseung told you to treat his home as your own, you took him up on the offer (much to his pleasure). You sometimes walk around in a tiny nightie that barely covers anything or tiny sleep shorts and a thin tank top that does nothing to hide the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra.

“Good night, Hee,” you’d call from the door sweetly, leaning against the doorframe with an alluring smile.

His cock would spring awake, loving how you slowly started to use cute little nicknames for him. Heeseung can tell it bothers his wife. Her face twists the tiniest bit any time she hears you call him Hee. Not that he cares. In fact, he was quick to put her in her place when she scolded you for not calling him Mr. Lee. Much to her displeasure, Heeseung made it clear to both of you that you can call him whatever you want.

Making his wife upset was the last thing he cared about because nothing was more important than you and your happiness.

Heeseung usually doesn’t get up so early, but ever since he’s gotten used to sleeping next to his wife, he always notices when she’s not in bed next to him. He looks at his phone to see that it’s four in the morning. Just before sleep can claim him again, he hears faint voices. Even through the sleepy haze, he can tell it’s an unfriendly conversation.

Immediately, his mind goes to you. The thought that something might be happening to you or upsetting you has him springing out of bed. He speedwalks down the hall to your room. You have the second biggest one in the house not only because he wanted you to have the best, but because he wanted you close to him.

“—being serious. Don’t bother Heeseung while I’m away.” His wife’s harsh voice makes his stomach turn unpleasantly. “He’s a busy man, and I don’t want you getting on his nerves.”

“I won’t, mom.” You sound tired.

“Good,” she snaps. “And be grateful that he’s letting you stay here for free. Remember he can change his mind any time.”

Never.

“I know that,” you sound so down that Heeseung wants to gather you in his arms and reassure you that he’d never do something despicable like that. “I won’t get in his way”

“You better not,” your mom hisses. “I mean it, Y/N. We better not get back to find the house smelling like all your little friends.”

Now Heeseung wishes his business trip didn’t fall at the same time as your mother’s. She wouldn’t be berating you so much if he was staying behind. It’s especially infuriating because he explicitly told you it was okay to have friends over, just no boys. You laughed sweetly and promised him just that there would be no one over at all. It made him a bit sad because he didn’t want you being overly cautious.

“I’m not that irresponsible, mom. Like, I’m obviously not going to bring random people to a house that’s not mine.”

That feels like a punch to the gut. Heeseung had worked so hard to make you feel like this was your home, and it pisses him off that your mom is destroying all that work. Never in a million years would he have thought that his biggest obstacle in making you see this house as your own would be your own mother.

“Good. Also, don’t go into my room while I’m gone. I don’t need it smelling like you—”

Heeseung has to walk away. He can’t stand listening to his wife anymore. It makes him sick to his stomach to think that this is what you used to put up with all the time. No wonder you ran off to live with your ex as soon as you were able to.

His wife leaves in a few hours for the airport, and he decides right then and there that he’s going to show you the love you deserve.

Later that morning, Heeseung goes down to the living room to wait for you to wake up. He plans to spend the day with you and make sure you know that he doesn’t mind having you around. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to wait long. You come downstairs shortly after in a pair of sweats and a large shirt, looking unbelievably cute. 

“Good morning, Hee,” you say with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he says in a strained voice. It takes everything in him not to call you a cute pet name like he desperately wants to. “Come watch TV with me.”

Heeseung pats the spot next to him with a pretty smile that makes your heart jerk. You can’t deny that the invitation excites you. And so, in spite of the nerves you feel, you go sit by him.

“I’m happy we can spend some time together,” Heeseung hums as he leans back against the cushions, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “Come here.”

You’re such a good girl that you don’t hesitate to snuggle up under his arm. Heeseung feels completely alive when you make yourself comfortable against him. This is what his life should constantly be like. He drapes his arm across your shoulders and squeezes you against him. Heeseung can’t resist the temptation and presses a gentle kiss on the side of your head. You whimper softly when you feel his lips graze your ear.

Heeseung smirks into your hair and presses another gentle kiss to the tip of your ear. His cock twitches when he sees you press your thighs together but make no attempt to move away. He lets out a pleased hum and starts to press more kisses on the side of your head. Eventually, those sweet pecks start to trail down your neck. Now you can’t hold back your soft sighs of pleasure.

“You feel good, baby?” He wonders against your skin before he starts to bite and suck on it.

You tilt your head to give him more access. “Y-Yeah.”

It’s wrong, but your nipples get hard under your shirt, and you’re starting to feel hot all over. 

“Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You let out a quiet moan, mind swimming. “God, Hee.”

Heeseung nips at your neck. “Be a good girl for daddy, baby. Give me a kiss.”

As if you’re in a trance, you turn to meet his dark eyes before leaning in. Your eyes close when his lips meet yours. His lips are impossibly soft, and you moan when his tongue runs across your bottom lip before he forces it in your mouth. He kisses you with an urgency that makes you feel dizzy. Heeseung groans, cock throbbing as he tastes you to his desire. You’re just as sweet as he thought you’d be.

You whine when your stepdad reluctantly pulls away.

“You want more?” His smile is sweet yet teasing.

The way you nod has his cock twitching in his pants. He gives into your silent request, groaning as he kisses you again. Your tongues tangle together as he devours you, acting like your lips are the sweetest things he’s ever tasted. Every movement is passionate and is making your pussy pulse with need. Once again, it ends too quickly for your liking.

“Another one,” you demand cutely. “Please.”

Your stepdad’s smirk is so attractive, and it matches the heat in his eyes. Heeseung raises his eyebrow at you teasingly before he’s leaning back in to give you what you want. He groans into your mouth again when he feels one of your hands rest on his thigh.

Heeseung kisses you with more need as he slowly guides your hand to his very prominent bulge. He smirks when you gasp into his mouth after feeling how hard he is. You don’t fully pull away, so he uses that to playfully bite your bottom lip. Your cunt clenches at the action as your wide eyes look where your hand is cupping his dick.

“Look how hard you made me, sweetheart,” Heeseung whispers as he presses a gentle kiss on your temple. “Be a good girl and pull my cock out.”

Arousal is clouding your mind, which is why you don’t hesitate to do as he says. You unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants until you see his underwear. Licking your lips, you pull on his waistband while your other hand pulls his dick out.

Heeseung groans deeply as soon as your soft hand touches his hot skin. You’re gawking at it so cutely, and it’s obvious that you can’t look away. He smirks as his cock throbs in your hand.

Your stepdad’s dick is long and girthy. It’s also really fucking pretty—the prettiest one you’ve ever seen. Your mouth waters as you realize that it’s way bigger than Jake’s. The thought of taking it makes your pussy clench in anticipation. Your fingers slowly trail up the prominent veins to tease the leaking head. Fuck. You know it’s going to feel amazing.

“Shit, baby,” Heeseung groans. “Touch me as much as you want. Daddy’s cock is all yours.”

As if to prove his point, his dick twitches in your hand and more precum oozes from his fat tip. You run your fingers through the sticky mess, smearing it along the length as you start to caress the soft skin.

“It’s so big,” you whisper in awe as your clit pulses with need.

Heeseung groans and squeezes you into his side. The hand that’s hanging off your shoulder slowly trails down your body until it’s slipping inside your loose sweats. Heeseung’s cock leaks steadily as he goes to cup your hot cunt. Your stepdad shoves his face into your neck and groans. His lips drag against your skin as you use your hand to work his dick.

“Is this all for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whine as you start to roll your hips into his hand to get some friction. “Never been so wet before.”

Heeseung almost cums from your words alone. He pulls back to watch you grind your needy pussy into his palm. Your nails dig into his bicep as he presses his hand against you harder. Thet soft moans you’re letting out are driving him crazy. He bucks his hips into your hand, and you take the hint and move your hand faster.

“That’s it, baby. Ride my hand like a good little girl. My good girl,” he growls.

“Daddy,” you whine as your juices start to wet his hand.

“God, you’re perfect,” he grunts after kissing your cheek sweetly. “So fucking good for me.”

Slowly, he slips his hand out of your sweats and orders you to pull them off. Your core burns with need as you get off the couch to do as he says. 

“Come here.”

Heeseung pulls you into his lap so your back is against his chest. He holds your hips as his soft lips brush against your ear. 

“Take your panties off.”

You arch your hips up and slide your underwear down your legs until they’re all the way off. Heeseung groans when he sees your bare pussy. Your stepdad hooks your legs over thighs so your pussy is spread and on display for him. He whispers a quiet be good before he slaps his hand on your sensitive clit. You cry out when he spanks your cunt again.

“You like getting your pussy slapped, don’t you, little girl?”

Your toes are curling in your socks as you arch back into Heeseung, grinding down on the dick you feel against your ass. He starts to fuck it between your plump cheeks, groaning at how filthy you are. He fucking loves it.

“Yes, daddy,” you gasp out wantonly. “I love it when you slap my little pussy.”

Heeseung smirks and gives your swollen clit another stinging slap. Your body jerks like you’ve been electrocuted, and you moan loudly from the tingling feeling coursing through your pussy. The smacks keep coming, each harder than the last. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your stepdad keeps spanking your throbbing pussy. At this point, you can’t do anything other than moan. 

Heeseung stops his movements to slip his middle and ring fingers into your tight hole. You’re completely submerged in pleasure as you feel his wedding band glide against your slick walls.

“Fuck, little girl,” Heeseung laughs delightedly. “Even your mom doesn’t get this wet for me. You’re just a perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

You clench hard around his fingers at those words. Your hips are rolling, grinding your ass into his wet cock while you fuck his fingers deeper into your pussy.

“Oh?” Heeseung’s voice gets deeper. “You like hearing that your stepdad likes you better than your mom?”

You’re moaning again as you dizzily nod your head. “Yes, fuck. Tell me how you like my pussy better than hers, daddy.”

Heeseung moans, fucking his cock faster against your plump ass. “Shit, baby. You know you’re better than your mom. Ever since she introduced me to you, I knew you were better.”

“Daddy!” You moan loudly as his fingers continue to plunge into you at a quick pace.

Heeseung feels you tightening around his fingers. Your cunt is so hot and tight, and he knows it’ll feel better wrapped around his cock. He starts to plant wet kisses on your neck, wanting to push you over the edge.

“You gonna cum for daddy, baby?”

Those words are enough to get you to do just that. The coil in your stomach snaps as you cum around your stepdad’s long fingers. 

Seeing you cum on his lap helps Heeseung reach his own climax. He cums with a groan of your name, grinding his cock into your soft ass as he releases his thick cum on your lower back. Your stepdad slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy with a lewd wet sound before bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them. His moan makes your core throb all over again.

“So fucking sweet.”

Before you can say anything in response, Heeseung’s ringtone cuts through the silence. He tugs you closer as he goes to answer the phone. You’re too distracted to listen to what’s being said, but you come to your senses when Heeseung grumbles something about heading to the airport right away.

“You’re leaving?”

It kills Heeseung to hear how vulnerable you sound. He buries his face in your neck again, scenting you to reassure you that him leaving has nothing to do with what just happened.

“The clients want to meet sooner than planned. I have to go.”

You can feel his pout against your skin, and your heart thrums with fondness. Heeseung has always been unexpectedly cute in your eyes. That’s why it was so easy for you to give into him.

“Okay,” you relax against him. “I understand.”

As always, you’re a perfect angel through and through. Heeseung presses a soft kiss to your neck before he helps you stand. Immediately, he helps you clean up before going upstairs to shower. He really doesn’t want to leave, but he can’t act irresponsibly no matter how badly he wants to. And now that he knows you want him just as much as he wants you, he’ll have plenty of time to make you all his.

Once Heeseung has all his things, he goes downstairs to find you waiting for him. He gathers you in his arms, not really wanting to let you go. When he pulls back, he gives you a passionate kiss to remind you that he doesn’t regret what’s happened between you two.

“When you get back, can we play some more?” You ask hopefully.

Heeseung grunts softly at the imagery he’s creating in his head. “Of course, baby. I’m all yours now.”

Coming back home from a long and tiring business trip isn’t anything new for Heeseung. What is new is the excitement he has to get home. He knows you’ll be waiting for him, and he can’t wait to show you how much he’s missed you.

The excitement he feels is ruined completely when he gets off his plane and finds his wife waiting for him. It’s an unpleasant surprise, but she doesn’t realize just how badly she ruined the day. Heeseung almost wishes he would’ve asked for a divorce before he boarded the plane. At least then he wouldn’t have had to deal with her right when he got back home.

“How was the trip, honey?”

“Fine,” Heeseung’s voice is curt, but once again, his wife seems impervious to his obvious attitude.

He doesn’t ask about her trip, but she tells him anyway. She talks all the way back to the house as if Heeseung is actually listening to her. In reality, he’s an expert in blocking her out at this point. This time is way easier since all his thoughts are filled with nothing but you.

The house is quiet when they arrive, and Heeseung barely holds back from calling your name. Your mom is obviously not interested in seeing you because she suggests going out for dinner after they go upstairs and put their things away. He doesn’t feel bad for turning down her suggestion with the excuse of being jet lagged.

As soon as Heeseung and his wife get on the second floor, the overwhelming scent of an omega in heat hits them. Heeseung’s cock comes alive instantly, getting completely hard in less than a minute. Without waiting for his wife to follow, he goes directly toward your room where the pungent smell is coming from.

Heeseung throws your door open without bothering to knock. What he finds is devastating to him. You’re laying in the middle of the large bed in nothing but a large shirt, eyes screwed shut as you tremble in pain. The thin sheen of sweat lining your forehead is evidence that you’ve been in heat for a while now.

Your eyes slowly open and settle directly on your stepdad. They stare at him before slowly trailing down to the large bulge in his pants. You lick your lips, and it takes everything in Heeseung not to rip your clothes off and take you right then and there.

“Y/N!” His wife’s angry voice brings him out of his debased fantasy. “Why the hell are you in heat?”

Heeseung looks back at his wife with an incredulous glare. So many things are going through his mind, but one question keeps coming up. Why is she so angry over something that’s natural?

“Sorry, mom,” you say through a pant. “I ran out of the suppressants you gave me.”

Before you can continue, Heeseung turns to your mother with a murderous look on his face. “You gave her suppressants?”

An omega taking suppressants is practically unheard of since they cause so many health issues. The drugs are practically poison, and the fact that your own mother was giving them to you made him sick to his stomach. It makes him think back to the first time he met you. Now he understands why she was so determined to hide what she was so insistent on giving you.

“They help her,” his wife says frantically. “But that’s not the point right now. She has to leave so her heat doesn’t affect you.”

Heeseung growls under his breath. Over his dead body will you leave his house looking and smelling how you do.

Your mom turns her nasty glare back on you. “Call Jake and have him pick you up. I’m sure he won’t have any problem helping you through your heat—”

“Get out,” Heeseung spits, barely controlling his rage.

How dare his wife suggest that you ask another man to help you through your heat? No one except him is ever going to see you like this.

“What?” His wife’s stunned expression only makes him growl impatiently.

“I’m going to help Y/N through her heat.”

Your mom’s eyes widen in anger, and she glares over at you like what’s happening is your fault. Normally, you’d feel guilty or anxious about upsetting your mom, but the pain isn’t letting you think straight. You need Heeseung’s cock, and you don’t care if it’s going to hurt your mom in the process.

Heeseung ignores his wife and goes to you. He sits down on the bed next to you before pulling you on his lap. A soft moan of relief cuts through the tense silence as his hard bulge presses up right against where you need him the most. You feel so hot all over, and your head is clouded with such potent arousal that you forget your mom is still standing in the room until Heeseung looks at her over your shoulder.

“I told you to get out,” he growls. A mean smirk takes over his face. “Unless you want to watch me knot your daughter.”

You whimper and roll your hips into Heeseung. The fact that he’s saying he’s going to give you his knot is making you gush with more slick. It excites you that he’s going to help you, and to think he doesn’t care to hide it from your moan makes a deep satisfaction settle inside you.

His wife is looking on with tears in her eyes. She’s disgusted and enraged, but she knows no matter what she says or does, Heeseung isn’t going to change his mind.

“It hurts, daddy,” you whine as you grind your pussy on his clothed dick, no longer thinking to spare any of your mom’s feelings. “Want you to make me feel better.”

You swivel your hips and press down harder onto his hard cock. With a throaty groan, Heeseung grabs your ass to help you bounce on his bulge. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s going to give you exactly what you need.”

His voice dips into a low moan when you lean forward to lick and bite at the sensitive spot on his neck. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your panty clad pussy, and it makes you whine.

Your mom flinches when she sees Heeseung’s glare from over your shoulder. It’s a silent command for her to get out, and she finally does. She doesn’t get far, only being able to take a few steps out of your room before she collapses on the floor with a quiet sob.

“Fuck, little girl. Couldn’t wait until your mom was out of the room, huh?” His laugh is cruel, but it only turns you on.

“Don’t care,” you whine before leaning in to smash your mouth against his. “Just want your cock.”

You gently nip his bottom lip before messily forcing your tongue into his mouth. There’s a desperation you’ve never felt before as you grind down on his thick cock. The fact that he’s leaking with enough precum to stain his pants is driving you more insane. You keep rocking your hips so your clit rubs against the rough material of his jeans.

“Yeah?” Heeseung groans when you pull away. He continues to help you grind your messy pussy on his bulge. “You need daddy to stuff your little pussy?”

Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy slowly. He’s grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit to get you more riled up than you already are. 

Eventually, Heeseung decides he needs to prep you. Because as badly as he wants you, he can’t forget that this is your first real heat. So, he pulls you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed.

“I need to taste you properly, sweetheart. Last time wasn’t enough.”

A tingle goes straight to your pussy when he pulls your large shirt off and tosses it across your room. Heeseung buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your pussy lips, allowing your stepdad to lick at your clit easily. 

“Oh, daddy!” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair.

He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before roughly rips your underwear off to lap at your leaking hole. 

“You taste so fucking good, little girl,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl. “Fuck. I could eat your little cunt all day.”

“Daddy, please,” you grind against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.

He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit. You cry out wantonly when your stepdad softly sucks the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before he starts to gently suckle on it.

“It feels so fucking good,” you moan loudly, thighs falling open as far as they can go.

Heeseung growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His hands trail up the underside of your thighs to push your legs to your chest. You moan when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He quickly dives back in, burying his face in your soaked pussy. Another loud cry tumbles out of you when he starts to lick and suck on your sensitive nub.

“Such a sweet pussy,” Heeseung moans.

His tongue languidly laps at your wet folds, eyes locked with yours from where he’s lying between your legs. Your stepdad’s hands come up to the inside of your thighs and press down, leaving you spread open for his hungry mouth. The sight of his beautiful face buried in your cunt makes you drip with more slick. Heeseung keeps licking into your slick hole like a starved man, desperate to not waste one drop of your sweet essence. You’re crying out for him as your hips roll into his mouth. He pulls away slightly to spit into your pussy again before fucking his spit into your clenching hole.

You moan and pull on his hair. The dark strands are wrapped around your fingers to help guide his face to where you want it most. Heeseung smirks against you and starts to press wet, open mouthed kisses on your throbbing clit. He sucks the swollen bud into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it over and over again. Your stepdad hums into your pussy, suckling on your clit softly as he indulges in your sweet taste.

“I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum, daddy!" you moan loudly.

“Cum all over my face, sweetheart. Show daddy how good he makes you feel,” your stepdad says before he presses his face between your folds to suck your clit back into his mouth.

“Daddy!” You moan loudly as you cum.

You jolt as your slick completely coats his lower jaw and slowly starts to drip down his chin. He looks so hot covered in your juices that another wave of arousal hits you with full force.

“Messy fucking girl,” Heeseung grunts as he starts to take off his clothes.

Your mouth waters when you see his big cock slap his lower abdomen. Since he’s been gone, you’ve been dreaming about that pretty dick every night. 

Heeseung goes to kiss you roughly, eagerly shoving his tongue into your mouth. Tasting yourself makes you arch up into his body. Fuck. You’re so turned on and desperate that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t shove his cock inside you soon.

Seeing you so needy makes Heeseung pull back slightly to stroke his cock. Your eyes follow his movements, and you lick your lips when you see the amount of precum beading at the tip. With a deep groan, your stepdad notches his leaking tip against your clenching hole. Heeseung groans as he glides the fat head up your slit to smack it against your clit.

The feeling of the hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy makes you whine desperately. He keeps dragging his dripping cock against your throbbing cunt repeatedly, loving how you’re squirming against him. Teasing you is everything he imagined it would be, and he makes a note to do it often from now on. Heeseung thrusts his hips to rub his cock through the slick dripping from your cunt, moaning at how easily it coats the length of his cock.

“Look how deep daddy’s cock is gonna go, baby.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it.

Heeseung uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your unfocused eyes take in how far his cock will reach inside your needy cunt. It pulses and throbs, and more slick leaks out of you.

“Oh god, daddy. It’s too big,” you mewl even though the thought of having his monster cock inside you turns you on to no end. 

With an endeared chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide it across your pudgy bud. The bulbous head grinds against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping more slick onto your sheets.

“Your pretty pussy’s just small, sweetheart,” he coos softly before he licks a broad stripe up your neck. “But don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna stretch out your cute little cunt so you can take my knot.”

Those filthy words make you whine and buck your hips desperately.

“Ready to take this cock, little girl?”

Without waiting for an answer, he slips the head of his dick inside your clenching hole. He presses into your pussy slowly, and it makes you moan wantonly as you instantly feel some of your pain fade. Your moan breaks off into a gasp when you feel the burning stretch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be tight,” he laughs in delight. “A tight little pussy for daddy.”

You dig your nails into his back, eyes rolling into your skull as his girthy cock stretches your cunt. “It’s too big, daddy.”

“Too big?” Heeseung repeats as he gently bites your neck. “I guess daddy’s just going to have to train you to take his big cock then, huh?”

With that, he sinks his cock another inch into your clenching hole. Your walls clench down on his dick and make his hips stutter. His veiny cock feels so fucking good that you that the unbearable pain fades instantly. You feel so full and stretched out, but you want more. Your body reacts by getting wetter, easing the way for Heeseung to bully his cock further into your pussy until he bottoms out.

“I’m gonna spend all week training you, little girl,” he promises. “Daddy’s staying buried in this cute little pussy until you’re all nice and bred.”

You moan high in your throat, walls clamping down around Heeseung’s thick cock as you cum hard.

“Oh, fuck me,” he laughs, extremely pleased. “You like that? Like that I’m gonna breed this sweet pussy all week?”

He pulls his cock halfway out then slowly sinks back into your wet and willing body. You mewl as your cream coats his cock. 

“Yes, daddy! Want you to stuff me full all week long!”

Heeseung starts fucking his cock deeper into your pussy, eager to give you what you want. He reaches between your bodies and begins to rub and pinch your clit. “I’m gonna fuck you through your heat, sweetheart. Gonna cream this pussy over and over again.”

You’re letting out filthy moans like your mom isn’t right outside your room crying her eyes out because you’re fucking her husband. Not that you care. All you can think about is the mind-numbing pleasure you’re receiving.

“Cum on my cock again, baby,” Heeseung groans as he spears his cock into your sloppy hole. “I want you to squeeze me with that hot little cunt while I cum in you.”

You cry out loudly as his leaking tips rams into your g-spot. Your stepdad’s girthy cock is rutting into your squelching cunt mercilessly, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. Heeseung’s fingers circle your clit until your pussy is clenching and spasming around him again.

“Are you gonna give me your cum, daddy?” Your eyes shine with anticipation. “Your knot?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna give you a nice hot load. Then, I’m gonna knot you so it takes. That’s how much I love you.”

His words make you gush more slick, eyes rolling back as the musky scent of sex fills the room. You cry out, feeling feral all over again.

“Fuck yes!” You scream in pleasure. “Cream my little pussy, daddy! Want it so fucking bad!”

“Yeah? Then let’s make it easier.”

Without letting you answer, Heeseung pulls out of you with a lewd squelching sound and flips you onto your hands and knees. One of his hands presses down on your back while the other grips your hip to raise your ass up. Your stepdad’s big cock slides into your hot cunt much easier in this position. He bottoms out with a loud groan as you claw at your sheets.

Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Heeseung’s big cock into your dripping pussy. You feel your slick dripping down your thighs and coat his heavy balls.

“Want you to knot me,” you slur, nails digging into your plush bedding. “Want your knot, daddy!”

He growls and starts to slam his cock into your sloppy pussy, making you cry out from the rough movement. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick as he keeps spearing you open. The way you moan and mewl for him only makes him fuck you harder.

“Good girl,” he groans loudly, making you shiver all over. “My good little girl.”

“Daddy,” you whimper as your pussy walls flutter around his thick length.

Heeseung’s cock throbs inside you. He pulls out halfway before roughly slamming his dick back into your sopping wet hole. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says as he squeezes the globes of your ass. Your eyes roll back as his fingers dig into your skin. “This perfect pussy was made for me. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes!” You gasp out in agreement as Heeseung pounds your cunt hard. “This little pussy is all yours, daddy!”

Heeseung moans loudly and spanks your bouncing ass. You scream, pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your third orgasm takes you both by surprise. 

“Good girl,” he coos, grabbing the fat of your ass with both hands again. “Such a good fucking girl. Gripping me with your tight pussy and working for my knot like a good little slut.”

Your body trembles as Heeseung keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot. His fat tip slams against your cervix, and you can’t stop crying out in pleasure.

“Cum one more time for me, pretty girl,” your stepdad roughly spanks your ass again, making you whine. “Just give me one more, and I’ll knot this pretty pussy so you’re nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred until you’re stuffed to the brim?”

“Please, daddy!” You cry out, ass bouncing back against his rough thrusts. “Want your knot! Want it so fucking bad!”

One of his hands slides down your body to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit. 

“That’s it, baby.” Heeseung hunches over your back to kiss your neck. His tongue laps against your sweaty skin right over the sensitive spot that’s meant to take his mark. “I feel you getting tighter, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

As Heeseung keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as your stepdad curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum,” he pants into your neck. “Take my knot. Fuck. Take it.”

You cry out loudly. That desperate noise has Heeseung fucking his cock deep inside you until he cums.

“That’s it,” he’s groaning and panting as he licks at your neck. “Milk my cock, little girl.”

You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside you. Ropes and ropes of his hot seed spill into your pussy, and you love that his knot is keeping it stuffed inside you.

“So good for me,” Heeseung groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back. He starts to scent you. “Such a perfect omega. So fucking perfect.”

You sigh in content, body going limp as Heeseung continues to fill your pussy with load after load. You’ve heard that alphas cum more than usual when helping an omega in heat, but you didn’t expect it to be this much. Not that you’re complaining. You’re taking every drop he gives you with a blissful smile on your face

Your stepdad grinds his dick inside your pussy until the steady stream of cum stops filling you. He slowly shifts your bodies until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably. Heeseung buries his nose in your neck as his hands start to caress your body. 

“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.

“Good.” He says before he kisses your neck.

You mewl when he keeps pressing soft kisses on your neck and dragging his teeth over a sensitive spot that no one else has dared to touch. Heeseung keeps you two in the same position until his knot slowly deflates.

You whine when he slowly pulls out. Heeseung watches with dark eyes as his cum leaks out of your pussy. He uses two of his fingers to scoop it up and smear it across your clit. You mewl as slick starts to drip out of you again. Heeseung takes the opportunity to shove your legs open and rub your clit until your body arches off the bed. A mix of slick and cum gushes from your pussy as you climax again.

“Let me lick that pussy, baby,” Heeseung murmurs as he starts kissing his way down your body. “Want to suck on that swollen little bud until you’re creaming my tongue.”

“Fuck,” your whine is high-pitched and needy. “Do it, daddy. I want your mouth on my pussy.”

He groans and sloppily kisses your slit in thanks. When he pulls back a bit, you see his lips coated with your juices. Your pussy pulses and clenches in eagerness.

“So messy, sweetheart.” 

With that, your stepdad pushes your thighs against the bed to keep you spread for him. He repeatedly plants wet kisses on your pulsing clit, worshipping you until you’re writhing against him. His teeth scrape and nip your pudgy nub as his dark eyes watch you carefully. 

Heeseung spanks your pussy when you keep squirming. He smirks when you jolt with a loud cry. Slick pours out of you, filling the room with your lovely scent. It’s your body’s way of signaling that it’s ready to be knotted again. 

“What a needy little girl,” he coos as he blows air on your soaked cunt. “Just desperate for me to clean up this sloppy pussy, hm?”

“Yes, yes!” You moan, pussy throbbing with need. “Eat my pussy, daddy. Lick me clean.”

“Dirty little slut,” Heeseung groans before he slaps your wet cunt again. “I’m gonna stay here with you all night. Keep my tongue buried in your tight hole until you squirt all over me.”

“Fuck. Yes, yes!” you moan as you arch your hips up to entice him. “Let me cum all over your face, daddy!”

Heeseung smirks and buries his face in your cunt to give you what you want.

You lose complete track of time as Heeseung makes you cum on his tongue over and over again. After the second orgasm, you start squirting like he wants. He’s so delighted that he keeps fucking his tongue into you, indulging himself in your addicting taste. You’re happy to lay there and let him eat your pussy until you’re nothing more than a gushing mess.

“Good girl,” Heeseung moans into your cunt, his face completely drenched in your slick.

You mewl in response, hoping he’s had enough fun playing with your pussy to give you his cock. He flips you over and arches your back so your ass and pussy are on full display for him. He groans when he sees your soaked pussy and thighs. 

“Hee,” you whimper desperately. “Want your cock.”

“Spread those legs for me, baby. Show daddy that sloppy pussy.”

With a loud whine, you bend forward more and spread your thighs apart further to give him a better view of your holes. Your pussy is dripping with slick, and Heeseung commits the filthy sight to memory. 

“Daddy,” you whimper. “Please.”

Your stepdad lets out a deep laugh before his hands slide down your back to cup your ass and spread you open even more. Heeseung groans deeply.

“God, baby. I’m never gonna get tired of seeing this hot cunt gushing for me,” he tells you with a pleased hum. “I’m gonna breed this little pussy all night.”

“Please,” you beg through a moan, pressing your ass back against him. “Want it so bad, daddy.”

Heeseung rubs his cock against your soaked pussy lips, gathering your wetness all over his length. He licks his lips, loving how you feel against him. His cock throbs because he can tell how badly you’re aching to be fucked and knotted and stuffed full of cum.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re gonna get my knot. I’m gonna stuff your little pussy to the brim.” Heeseung promises before he slams his cock into your clenching heat.

Your moan is loud as he completely bottoms out into your needy pussy. Heeseung doesn’t let you adjust and pulls all the way out before slamming back inside. Your stepdad’s instincts completely take over, his only goal being to knot and breed your pussy. 

You cry out when you feel your cunt stretching around his dick. He groans and drapes his chest across your back, hips slamming against your ass. The lewd sounds of skin slapping and the wet squelching of your pussy fills the room. You whine loudly, turned on from the fact that your mom can hear all the filthy noises.

“I’m gonna keep you knotted for hours, make sure it takes,” Heeseung groans before he starts to nip at your jawline, 

“Fuck!” You mewl wantonly. “I want it, daddy! Want you to breed my pussy so fucking bad!”

Your legs start to shake when Heeseung reaches around to play with your clit. He bites down on your neck and starts spearing his fat cock into your clenching hole. He fucks you deep and fast, his slowly expanding knot brushing your entrance with every rock of his hips. You can only lay there and take it, moaning and whining in pleasure as he fucks your pussy. His cock pounds your soaked cunt, thick head knocking against your cervix. 

“Good girl,” he groans, biting at your ear. “Good girls deserve to have their cute little pussies bred, don’t they, sweetheart?”

“Yes!” you cry as he rubs your clit faster. “I’m gonna cum, daddy. Gonna cream your fat knot.”

“That’s it, little girl,” he keeps rubbing fast circles on your swollen bud. “Cum all over me. Show me how much you want me to fill your pretty pussy.”

Heeseung starts to bite and suck on your neck as you moan for him. His hips snap against yours as he roughly fucks you into the mattress. With every thrust, his balls slap against your slippery clit until he’s pulling another orgasm from your exhausted body. 

“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had,” Heeseung groans, pulling out to slam back in, dick bullying into your swollen, fluttering walls. “Goddamn. You’re so fucking tight. My little girl just loves her stepdad’s dick so much.”

“I fucking love it, daddy!” You cry out. “Love your big cock so much!”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm overtakes your senses. Heeseung groans as your cream stains his cock. Your body trembles as your pussy milks his dick. His hips piston against your ass, dragging your orgasm out until you spiral into a second one. Your stepdad groans, hips pumping his cock into your dripping cunt harshly.

Heeseung buries his cock deep in your spasming hole, knot locking you together as his cum floods your cunt, breeding your pussy full. He groans your name as he cums, walls milking him to shoot hot rope after rope of hot cum inside your little pussy. Pleasure consumes your entire body as you feel each spurt of his thick cum pumping into your cunt. 

“Taking it so good, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, tongue licking the sweat beading at your skin. “Such a perfect little slut.”

You hum dazedly, body sinking down across your bed as you feel each spurt of his thick seed filling your pussy. 

“So full, daddy,” you mewl, legs shaking as he softly ruts his knot further into you.

That’s how you spend the rest of your night. Being knotted by your stepdad over and over again until you can’t handle anymore. 

It’s almost dawn by the time your mom hears all the filthy moans and groans from your room stop. By now, she’s ran her tears dry, and she thinks she might not be able to cry for a long time. With a heavy heart, she gets up from her bed and walks to your room. The heartbreaking sight of you laying on her husband’s chest, sleeping peacefully as he caresses your head is like a breaking point.

There’s a blanket draped over your bodies, but she can te you’re both still naked. She feels sick at the thought of her husband’s cock still being lodged inside you.

Heeseung turns his dark eyes on her, not at all affected by her puffy, bloodshot eyes. Her pitiful face only makes him feel disgusted.

“You’re not coming to bed?” Her voice is hoarse and weak.

“I’m still knotted to your daughter.”

A lone tear slips down her cheek.

“Heeseung—”

“You should leave. Y/N’s heat is more intense because of how long it was suppressed.” Heeseung’s voice is cold. “We can discuss the divorce after I finish helping her through it.”

His wife sobs, but he doesn’t feel sorry. He can’t. Especially not now that he’s finally had you in the way he wants. She turns and walks away from him like a zombie. He groans when you shift against him in your sleep. Your movements tug gently on his knot, and it makes his cock throb and twitch in need.

Heeseung hums in content. When you get up, he’s going to knot you all over again. Except this time, he’ll do it on his own bed since that’s where you’ll be sleeping soon.

As soon as your mom gets out of his house, he’s going to have you take her place. No matter how badly she begs, Heeseung won’t change his mind because he knows that there’s no getting rid of this feeling he has for you, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to keep you at his side forever.

[enhaflixer]

golden boy hard dom!Jake x masturbation addict f!reader

ENHA HARD HOURSSSSSSSSSSS 18+ MDNI: masturbation so much of it, really not suitable for work, weed smoking, temp play, filming, ass play, vibrator. this is the filthiest shit i have ever written in my life type shit. but also fluffy so its fine. plot? what plot

your mornings follow a strict routine: wake up. Ignore your alarm. Spread your legs and ruin yourself to the thought of Jake Sim. he doesn’t know you exist. star student, always on time. you stumble into class late, wrecked, barely holding it together. you get paired up for a project. when he figures out why you’re always late? you’re fucked.  literally.

You woke up soaked. Literally, fucking soaked, the sheets beneath you damp with sweat and slick from how hard you’d been grinding against them in your sleep. It was always like this—an unbearable need that gripped you before you were even fully conscious. And you knew exactly who caused it.

Jake Sim.

The moment your hazy mind conjured up his name, your pussy gave a hard throb, as if your body was starved for him. It didn’t matter that you’d never even held a real conversation. All that mattered was that he existed—perfect, unattainable—and you were so pathetically desperate for him that you’d turned it into a daily routine.

With a shaky sigh, you slid your hand under the thin waistband of your panties, fingers pressing into the sticky mess already pooling there. You hissed out a curse at how sensitive you were, thighs twitching as your digits smeared your own arousal around your clit.

“Fuck,” you whispered, voice breaking, as your eyes fluttered shut and your mind fed you the same filthy fantasies it always did. In them, Jake was every bit the cocky bastard you imagined him to be—towering over you, smirking with that lazy confidence, telling you to spread your legs wider so he could see just how ruined you were for him.

You could practically hear his voice:

“That’s it, baby. Show me how wet you are.”

A guttural moan fell from your lips. Your fingers trembled as you sank them deeper, sliding between your folds until you were massaging the swollen, throbbing knot of nerves that made your back arch off the mattress. Every movement sent sparks racing up your spine, and you chased the friction like a fucking addict—because that’s exactly what you were: addicted to the thought of him.

Your other hand fumbled for your phone, nearly dropping it on your face in your clumsy rush. The screen glowed to life, and you immediately opened that private folder. The nerve-wracking thrill of seeing your own explicit videos made your pulse throb.

Your finger hovered over the most recent one for half a second, heart hammering. Then you pressed play.

Instantly, the room filled with the ragged sounds of your recorded moans. On the screen, you were splayed out, hips rolling in a shameless rhythm as you fucked your own fingers like your life depended on it. The memory of that moment made your cheeks burn, but it also made you fucking wetter.

“Jake… please… fuck—” your recorded voice whimpered, your cheeks flushed and your tits bouncing with each thrust of your own hand.

The real you let out a choked noise, clit pulsing under your insistent fingertips. You drove them harder against your flesh, trying to match the frantic pace you’d seen in the video. A filthy squelch echoed in the room, your soaked folds giving you away, and you bit your lip to stifle a cry.

God, you were so damn desperate. It made you feel dirty as hell—and yet, you couldn’t stop. In your mind, you pictured Jake looming over you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He’d probably sneer down at you, that smug grin twisting his gorgeous mouth, telling you how pathetic you looked, cumming all over your own damn fingers just for him.

“Such a fucking slut,” you imagined him saying, and your body convulsed.

You rammed your fingers harder against your slick heat, each drag of your knuckles sending you spiraling higher. Your recorded moans continued to play on loop, mixing with your real ones until you couldn’t tell which was which. Every muscle in your body tensed, bracing for the orgasm that was cresting in your gut like a tidal wave.

“Jake,” you whimpered. It was a half-sob, half-prayer. “Jake, oh God—”

And then it hit.

Your orgasm slammed into you, white-hot and wrenching. Your hips jerked off the bed, your thighs squeezing around your hand so tightly you could barely move. A harsh, broken sound tore from your throat as your body locked up, wave after wave of bliss rippling through your core. You ground your fingers against your clit one last time, milking every second of the high until you thought you’d black out.

Finally, you collapsed, trembling, onto the mattress, breath sawing in and out of your lungs. Your vision blurred with unshed tears from the sheer intensity. Slowly, the quivering in your limbs began to subside, and you eased your damp fingers from between your legs, wincing at how oversensitive you already were.

For a moment, all you could do was lie there, the sticky remains of your orgasm coating your inner thighs, your mind still buzzing with echoes of Jake’s name. You felt disgusting, you felt euphoric—you felt alive in a way that made you crave more.

But reality crashed down the second you glanced at the time on your phone. Fifteen minutes until class started.

“Shit,” you whispered, bolting upright so fast your head spun. Your legs wobbled when you tried to stand, a dull ache centered between your legs reminding you of just how hard you’d gone. You grabbed the first hoodie you saw, yanked it over your head, and fished around for a pair of rumpled jeans from the floor. There was no time to shower, no time to even catch your breath.

As you dashed out of your room, the remnants of your orgasm still clung to your thighs, a humiliating reminder of why you were late in the first place. You couldn’t help but picture what Jake would say if he ever found out the real reason you stumbled through that lecture hall door every day, hair a mess and cheeks still flushed from your obscene morning routine.

He’d probably smirk, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

The thought made your cheeks flare with shameful heat as you tore across campus, trying not to trip over your own feet. You’d never let him find out—you were certain it would kill you. Yet, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wondered what it would be like if he did know. If he whispered filthy praise in your ear about how you were always late because you were too busy drenching your sheets for him.

Your core clenched at the mental image, and you forced yourself to shove it down. There was no time for daydreams—you were late enough as it was, and your professor was already on the verge of losing his patience with you.

Still, no matter how many times you told yourself you couldn’t keep doing this, you knew you would.

Tomorrow morning, you’d wake up soaked again, thighs trembling, and you’d inevitably plunge your fingers back into that slick warmth while moaning Jake’s name. The filthy cycle would continue, and you wouldn’t be able to stop it, because nothing else felt as good as imagining him breaking you into a moaning, dripping mess.

As you reached the lecture hall, panting and disheveled, you couldn’t help but wonder: what if—just what if—Jake Sim ever saw exactly how bad you had it for him?

But that was a thought for another day, another dirty, mind-shattering morning.

Because you both knew: this wouldn’t be the last time you came undone at the mention of his name.

-

You were already a mess when you stumbled through the lecture hall doors, breath ragged and heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. You were late. Again. The professor’s disapproving glare followed you as you practically crashed into your usual seat in the back row, muttering a hastily whispered apology under your breath.

God, you probably looked like you’d rolled straight out of bed—which, let’s be honest, you basically had. Not that you’d been sleeping. No, you’d spent your precious morning minutes rubbing out a frantic orgasm, fueled by thoughts of Jake Sim and all the ways he could ruin you if he ever laid a hand on your needy, desperate body.

Your clit still throbbed with the memory.

You tried to steady your breathing, force your mind to focus on the lecture happening around you. But your professor’s words were just a dull roar in your ears. You caught phrases like “group project” and “semester-long assignment,” but your brain refused to process them, still half-fogged from the wave of pleasure you’d torn out of yourself not fifteen minutes ago.

Then the professor called your name.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze just in time to see that he was pairing you off with someone. The rest of the class fell silent, heads turning toward you as you awkwardly cleared your throat, cheeks warming under the sudden attention.

“Jake Sim,” the professor said, scanning the attendance sheet. “You and Jake will be partners for the entire project.”

Your entire body stiffened.

Jake Sim.

Jake fucking Sim.

Your clit gave a punishing pulse at the mere mention of his name, so strong it sent a hot jolt of need straight through your core. You barely managed to swallow a gasp, thighs clenching under the desk as if that might calm the ache.

Across the room, Jake lifted his head. He had been taking notes, or maybe doodling—hell if you knew. He looked up when he heard his name, and his eyes flicked briefly over to you. He didn’t seem particularly surprised or amused. He just…nodded. Like it was no big deal.

Meanwhile, you sat there, completely frozen, trying not to let your face betray the fact that your cunt was literally fluttering at the prospect of spending hours—hours—with him on this project. Your mind spun with a million frantic thoughts: how were you supposed to look him in the eye when you had fingered yourself that same morning while moaning his name?

You almost wanted to run.

But there was nowhere to go, and the professor’s gaze was still locked on you, waiting for some sign of acknowledgment. So you forced a nod, swallowing hard, your pulse thundering in your ears.

When class finally ended, you practically bolted up from your seat, gathering your things in a clumsy rush. All you could think about was escaping before you did something mortifying—like spontaneously combusting from the intensity of the situation.

But you weren’t fast enough.

Jake Sim stood waiting for you in the aisle. You noticed, with a sinking sensation in your stomach, that he was even taller up close, shoulders broad under that signature hoodie, a slight quirk to his full lips as he watched you fluster about.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low but clear in the post-lecture murmur. “Guess we’re partners, huh?”

Your heart just about crawled up your throat and died there. You couldn’t form coherent words. Instead, you let out some pathetic sound halfway between a squeak and a cough.

Jake’s brows rose a fraction, and that quirk at the corner of his lips deepened. “You okay?”

No. Absolutely not. Your palms were sweating, your cheeks were on fire, and your core was still buzzing with the aftereffects of your morning orgasm. Knowing he was so close—close enough to smell the faint hint of laundry detergent clinging to his hoodie—nearly made your knees buckle.

“Uh, yeah,” you managed, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Just—tired.”

“Tired,” he echoed, giving you an appraising once-over. “Rough morning?”

You swallowed, a traitorous flush creeping up your neck. He had no idea just how rough.

“Something like that,” you muttered, pretending to rummage in your backpack to avoid meeting his gaze.

Jake shrugged. “Well, we should probably figure out a time to meet up for the project. Professor wants a proposal next week.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, so…normal. Meanwhile, your head was spinning because you were about to be in a room alone with him, studying economics, while your body screamed for him to fuck you senseless.

“Uh, yeah,” you repeated, feeling like a malfunctioning robot. “We…should definitely do that.”

God, you wanted to slap yourself. Could you be any more awkward?

Jake tilted his head, brown eyes flicking over you again, a subtle curiosity in his gaze. “How about tomorrow? Afternoon?”

Tomorrow. That meant you had less than twenty-four hours to get your shit together—to not end up a quivering puddle of arousal at his feet. Less than a day to build up some sort of immunity to his existence.

But you nodded anyway, because what else could you do? “Sure. Works for me.”

He gave a little smile, just a quick curve of his mouth, but it was enough to make your stomach tighten painfully. “Cool. I’ll, uh—text you, I guess?”

“Yeah. Text. Right.”

Your tongue felt leaden and stupid, and your heart hammered wildly against your ribcage. You wondered if he could hear it—wondered if he’d notice the pulse beating in your throat or sense the way your entire body vibrated with the memory of your morning orgasm.

But Jake just nodded again, hands sliding into the pockets of his hoodie. “See you tomorrow, then.”

He turned and left, effortlessly blending into the crowd of students filtering out the door. You stood there like an idiot, your mind replaying the conversation, analyzing every second for hints of pity or amusement on his part.

He didn’t seem weirded out. Didn’t seem suspicious of why you were so…flustered. He’d probably forget about you the moment he headed to his next class.

Meanwhile, you?

You tried to breathe, leaning heavily against one of the desks as you clutched your notes to your chest. Your thighs pressed together, a pitiful attempt to quell the ache that refused to leave you alone. It was as if your body recognized him on some primal level and refused to let go of the fact that he was standing right in front of you.

He had no idea how badly you wanted him—no clue you literally jacked off to his name almost every morning, that you were always late because you were too busy chasing orgasm after orgasm in a delirious haze of lust.

Well, now you’d have to fake it—pretend that you were normal, that you weren’t some perverted mess drooling over him in secret. You just hoped you could keep it together, especially once you were locked in a study room together, going over spreadsheets and supply-demand curves while your body screamed for something entirely different.

And worst of all, you had the sinking feeling that tomorrow’s routine wouldn’t be any different. You’d probably still wake up, still stroke your throbbing clit to the thought of Jake’s voice, Jake’s hands, Jake’s cock…

But maybe, just maybe, you’d manage not to be late this time.

Fat chance.

-

Studying with Jake Sim was a fucking nightmare—in the filthiest, most torturous way possible.

He had this infuriating habit of showing up in the laziest outfits imaginable, usually some combination of sweatpants and a hoodie. You might’ve thought the casual attire would make him look approachable or less intimidating, but it only did the opposite. He wore those gray sweats like a second skin, settling into his chair with an ease that bordered on sinful. His legs spread obscenely wide, claiming space that shouldn’t be his to claim.

The hoodie was somehow worse. It clung to his broad shoulders, emphasizing the sharp line of his collarbones and the solid build of his chest. And since he always—always—rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, you were treated to the tantalizing sight of his forearms: faint veins tracing a path over lightly tanned skin, muscles shifting whenever he flexed his fingers or picked up a pen.

It drove you insane.

Every time he tilted his head in thought, his hair would slip across his forehead, drawing attention to the dark, intense eyes beneath. Sometimes he licked his lips—absently, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it—and every time it happened, a low, pulsing heat rippled through your stomach.

But the worst part? Jake had a thing for tits.

You first noticed it in the little stuff: the way his gaze drifted south whenever you leaned over your notes, the split-second hesitation in his voice if your shirt happened to be cut too low. His eyes would flick to your chest, then dart away so quickly you’d think you’d imagined it—except the slight tension in his jaw proved otherwise.

He tried to hide it. Tried to keep himself polite and focused on the assignment, but the more you studied together, the more obvious it became. He had to physically force himself not to stare, clenching his jaw or gripping his pen with a little too much force whenever your shirt shifted in just the right way.

Eventually, you decided to test him.

One night, you showed up at his place wearing a tight little tank top—no bra underneath, of course. The fabric hugged your curves, thin enough that your nipples peaked through whenever the room got too cold. You pretended to be completely oblivious, scrolling through your laptop as though there wasn’t a very obvious reason Jake’s gaze kept snagging on your chest.

His reaction was immediate. The second you walked in, his eyes darkened, pupils dilating as they betrayed his interest. He coughed, cleared his throat, and busied himself with the project notes, but he couldn’t hide the subtle tremor in his voice when he asked, “So, um, ready to start?”

You dragged a chair up to the small desk, taking care to sit opposite him so he’d have an unobstructed view. For a while, you both pretended to work—typing away, sorting through textbooks, exchanging random facts about supply and demand. But every time you spoke, his attention drifted down, no matter how hard he tried to stay focused on your face.

Your heart pounded every time you caught him looking. Desire coiled low in your belly, and your nipples tightened beneath the thin fabric, practically begging for him to notice. Your entire body thrummed with this heady mixture of confidence and need, and you couldn’t help but push it further.

“Ugh, it’s so hot in here,” you sighed dramatically, arching your back to stretch. The movement sent your breasts straining against the tank top, and you saw Jake’s jaw clench, the tendons in his neck standing out as he forced himself not to stare directly at you.

He tried to keep his cool, but his next words came out more clipped than usual. “I can open the window.”

You shrugged, letting the straps of the tank top slide a fraction of an inch down your shoulder. “Nah,” you said, voice laced with feigned innocence. “Don’t worry about it.”

The tension in the air was palpable, an almost electric charge crackling between you. Your thighs pressed together beneath the desk, desperate for some kind of friction. You could practically feel his gaze lingering on your chest when you looked away, fueling that simmering warmth between your legs.

Finally, Jake snapped.

“You do that shit on purpose, don’t you?” he muttered, voice pitched low and tight enough to send shivers skittering down your spine.

You fought the smirk threatening to curve your lips. Your stomach flipped with excitement and arousal. “Do what?” you asked, feigning obliviousness, even though your heart was about to hammer out of your chest.

He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking to the tank top that was barely containing your chest. “You know what,” he ground out, then made a visible effort to calm himself, dragging his gaze to your face.

It took everything in you not to let out a triumphant laugh. You could see the frustration warring with desire in his dark eyes, saw the way his fingers curled into fists as if he had to physically restrain himself. There was a fine tremor in his forearms—those fucking forearms—that made your insides clench with a perverse satisfaction.

Your own arousal pulsed, nipples practically aching as they brushed against the fabric. There was this suffocating urge to crawl into his lap, to press your tits against his chest and see just how fast you could break that composure. But you held back. Because that wasn’t the plan. Not yet.

“I’m just trying to study,” you said, tone as sweet as sugar, batting your eyelashes in an overdone performance of innocence.

Jake’s stare hardened, and for a moment, you thought he might say something brash—something that would make the air sizzle. But he merely set his jaw, took a long, measured breath, and turned back to the notes.

“Right. Study,” he mumbled, jaw working like he was trying to chew through nails.

You bit your lip to smother a grin, your pulse still thrumming in your ears from the pure, uncut tension between you. Your nipples were so stiff they practically throbbed; you had to shift in your seat to accommodate the constant, nagging ache in your core.

Nothing else happened that night—no heated kisses, no tangled limbs—but it didn’t need to. The filth was already there, simmering beneath every glance, every roll of his shoulders, every suppressed flick of his gaze toward your tits. You could sense the unspoken hunger radiating off him like heat waves, matching the relentless heartbeat pounding in your own chest.

And that was more than enough to leave you soaking by the time you finally left.

-

You woke up with a pounding need at the base of your spine. It was deeper than usual, an ache that gnawed at you relentlessly, demanding satisfaction. The worst part? You already knew exactly who you were going to picture to take the edge off:

Jake Sim.

Every nerve in your body thrummed with anticipation, remembering the way he’d looked at you during your last study session—eyes flickering from your face down to your chest, jaw clenched like he was fighting some internal battle. You’d left his dorm with slick thighs and your mind racing, your entire body aflame.

Today, you wanted to push your usual routine even further. Your fingers alone wouldn’t cut it. With your teeth worrying your bottom lip, you slipped out of bed and rummaged through your nightstand until your hand closed around the small, discreet vibrator you’d impulsively bought a few weeks ago. It was sleek, silicone-coated, made for exactly the kind of play you were craving.

You bit back a trembling sigh and grabbed your phone, propping it against a pillow at the foot of your bed. The little red light began to blink, capturing you in all your messy, unmade-bed glory—hair tangled, cheeks still carrying the warmth of sleep, and a fiercely determined look in your eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whispered, half to yourself, half to the imaginary version of Jake you conjured whenever you got off.

But you didn’t hesitate. You shed your oversized T-shirt, tossing it aside to expose bare skin. Your nipples peaked in the cool air, and you ran a hand over one breast, giving it a light squeeze before trailing your palm down over your stomach. You settled into the pillows, propping your hips up slightly so the camera had a perfect view.

“Jake,” you murmured, letting your thighs fall apart, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your free hand teased your clit, already slick with arousal, while the other clutched the vibrator. The buzzing anticipation in your veins intensified as you clicked it on, feeling the soft hum rattle against your palm.

Normally, you’d sink it straight into your cunt, but today, you were craving something more depraved. Your breath hitched at the thought of that taboo stretch you barely ever indulged—your ass. The mere idea of Jake guiding it inside you, watching you squirm as you took it deeper, was enough to send a fresh gush of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, heart hammering as you angled the toy behind you. “Jake, I want you…want you here.”

Carefully, you smeared your own wetness over the silicone, letting your middle finger gather some of the slick so it’d slide in smoothly. A gasp broke from your throat the moment you pressed the vibrator’s tip to that tight ring of muscle—just the tiniest bit of pressure made your nerves light up like a live wire.

You couldn’t help the shameless moan that echoed off your bedroom walls. Even though it was just the tip, the sensation had you delirious. You spread your cheeks with one hand, guiding the buzzing silicone in a fraction of an inch, your body tensing and then relaxing around it. A ragged whine tore from your lips.

You could almost feel Jake’s hands there, big and warm, whispering filth in your ear:

“Relax. You can take it. Just like that—fuck, look at you…”

Your other hand found your clit, rubbing messy circles that turned your moans into broken sobs of pleasure. Each slow push of the vibrator inched deeper, stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll back.

“Nngh—Jake, please,” you babbled, voice shaking as you tried to push it just a bit further. “Wish it was your cock…wish you’d pin me down and shove it all the way in…”

You couldn’t hold back. The pressure and vibration melded into something explosive, your clit throbbing under your frantic fingertips. Every muscle in your body coiled tighter, lungs seizing as you hovered on the precipice. The camera recorded it all—the sweat beading at your temples, the flushed curve of your cheeks, the wet, filthy sounds filling the room.

Then it hit. Your orgasm came crashing down, ripping a strangled scream from your throat. Your legs shook, your ass clamping around the toy, your cunt pulsing in sympathy. You writhed against the sheets, half-blinded by the force of it, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming relief.

It felt like forever before you could breathe again, the buzz in your nerves slowly receding. You eased the vibrator out, wincing at the hyper-sensitivity, then stopped the recording with a trembling hand. On the screen, the thumbnail showed a glimpse of you with your mouth open in a silent cry, body arched off the bed, pure rapture etched on your face.

Fuck. If Jake ever saw that…

But there wasn’t time for guilt or second thoughts. A glance at the clock made your heart plummet—it was late, and you had to scramble to get to class before your professor threatened to fail you for tardiness. Again.

You only managed a quick wipe-down, barely rinsing the toy and tossing it in a drawer, before you yanked on clothes and sprinted out the door, phone still warm in your pocket from the video you’d just recorded.

The lecture hall was already half-full when you snuck in. You found your seat, cheeks still hot from both the run across campus and the memory of the vibrator filling your ass less than an hour ago. You avoided Jake’s eyes completely, which was easy because he was focused on the front of the class—though you could still feel the tension that seemed to magnetize you whenever he was close.

Throughout the lesson, your mind wandered, replaying the moment of penetration, the hum of the toy, the fantasy of Jake’s hands gripping your hips. You clenched your thighs under the desk, wishing you could burn the images out of your head.

Little did you know, in just a few hours, your world would implode in the filthiest way imaginable.

That evening, you met Jake for a study session in his dorm. The room was small but cozy, a lived-in space with a single bed in the corner, textbooks piled on the floor. He greeted you at the door, wearing a fitted T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders in a way that made your pulse flutter.

“Hey,” he said, stepping aside so you could walk in. “Let’s try to knock out the rest of the research tonight.”

You nodded stiffly, mouth dry. You were always too aware of him—his scent, the way the muscle in his jaw worked when he concentrated, the slight furrow of his brows. It didn’t help that you’d spent your morning taking a vibrator in your ass, moaning his name like you were possessed.

You settled at the small desk with your laptop, while Jake sat on the bed flipping through a shared Google Doc on his phone. The tension was thick enough to taste. Sometimes you swore you caught him watching you from the corner of his eye, but every time you glanced over, he was scrolling or typing, expression neutral.

After about twenty minutes, the soda you’d chugged on your way over came back to haunt you. You needed the bathroom—badly.

“I’ll be right back,” you muttered, closing your laptop’s lid but not fully locking it. Nerves and bladder pressure made you forget the simplest precaution: you’d left a minimized window open from transferring your new “vibrator video” into your private folder.

Jake just nodded. “Sure. Down the hall, last door on the left.”

You slipped out of the dorm, heart still fluttering, mind on autopilot. The hallway was dimly lit, and you disappeared into the bathroom, exhaling a relieved sigh once the door clicked shut.

Alone in the room, Jake glanced at your laptop, noticing the faint glow beneath the lid. Curiosity—mixed with something deeper—bubbled in his chest. He’d been suspecting something was up with you, ever since you arrived late looking thoroughly wrecked every morning. The tension you carried around him was obvious, and he’d caught glimpses of…subtle clues.

With a swift move, he lifted the laptop’s lid. The screen flickered back to life, revealing a folder half-tucked behind your research notes. A folder labeled something simple, but ominous: “Private.”

He should’ve stopped. Should’ve told himself it was none of his business. But a stubborn, electric thrill spurred him to open it. A series of video files stared back at him, each with a plain name—things like “Vid001,” “Vid002.” And the most recent one? Time-stamped that morning.

His heart thudded. He clicked on it.

What loaded made his blood run hot.

You. Naked. Bent back on your bed with a vibrator in your ass, face scrunched up in a mix of pain and pleasure as you eased it deeper. The audio kicked in, and Jake’s eyes went wide when he heard your moans:

“Jake…God, I want you so deep in me…wanna be stretched by your cock…”

His pulse roared in his ears. The image on the screen was so explicit it felt like a punch to the gut. You whimpered, back arched, your hand working your clit with desperate speed, all while the vibrator buzzed between your spread cheeks. And the filthy things you were saying—how you wanted him to shove it all the way in, how you wished it was his cock instead of cold silicone.

Jake’s cock twitched in his pants, heat pooling low in his gut. He watched, transfixed, as your face contorted in a mind-blowing orgasm, your body jerking, thighs trembling. You were screaming his name through it all.

A low, shaky exhalation left his lips. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure, he’d suspected you had some kind of thing for him, but this? This was on another level. You were a wrecked, filthy, ass-play-obsessed mess, and all of it was for him.

He paused the video at the peak of your orgasm, hand nearly trembling with adrenaline. Blood pounded in his ears, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Part of him wanted to keep watching, to see every second of your depravity, but he had to be quick. You’d be back any minute.

With an almost reverent care, he closed out of the folder and gently lowered the laptop’s lid. Then he dragged in a ragged breath, trying to get his heart rate under control.

His mind raced. You were a shy presence at times, stumbling over words, blushing whenever he looked at you too long. Yet behind closed doors, you were filming yourself stretching your ass with a vibrator, moaning his name like he was the only person in the world.

Jake could barely contain the predatory thrill that coursed through him. He tried to shove the arousal down, adjusting his position on the bed so he didn’t look painfully hard if you walked in that second. But there was no ignoring the fact that everything had changed.

You had no idea what you’d just handed him, and Jake was more than ready to see how you’d squirm now that he had proof of just how desperately you wanted him.

-

You barely made it through class without combusting.

Your skin felt too hot, every nerve in your body on edge, a lingering burn still coiled between your thighs from the morning’s routine. As if that wasn’t bad enough, every time Jake so much as shifted in his seat, your body reacted—trained by weeks, months, of late mornings spent getting yourself off to the very thought of him.

And then, class ended.

The moment you stepped into the hall, still shaken, still barely holding it together, Jake was waiting for you.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking infuriatingly calm while you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing. His dark eyes flicked over you, a slow drag, lingering just long enough to make your stomach tighten. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was studying you, examining you, as if piecing together a puzzle that had finally clicked into place.

A slow curl of heat unfurled in your belly. Something about the way he held your gaze, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, made you feel exposed. Laid bare.

Something was wrong.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, breath uneven as you tried to keep your face neutral. “What?” you asked, attempting to sound indifferent, but your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly on the single word.

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch, dragging his tongue over his lower lip in thought. His fingers twitched against his arms where they were crossed over his chest, and his gaze dipped lower—not just over your body, but like he was seeing straight through you.

Your stomach clenched. He knew something.

“Didn’t sleep well?” he finally asked, voice deceptively casual.

Your heart lurched. He was playing with you.

You forced yourself to scoff. “What are you talking about?”

Jake hummed, tilting his head slightly, and your stomach sank at the knowing glint in his eyes. You felt yourself locking up, body screaming at you to flee, but it was too late.

“I wonder…” he mused, tapping his fingers against his arm. “Is that why you’re always late?”

The world tilted beneath you.

Your throat closed, fingers twitching at your sides, because he didn’t say it like an accusation—he said it like a revelation.

Jake took a step closer, and you swore your knees almost buckled.

“You’re always late,” he murmured, voice smooth as sin, laced with amusement. He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “Always looking like you’ve just been fucked.”

Your breath hitched. Your pulse roared in your ears.

“What—” Your voice barely worked, caught between panic and something even deeper—something raw, electric, dangerous.

Jake’s lips curved, dark amusement flashing across his face. “You get off before class, don’t you?”

Your entire body went up in flames. Your thighs clenched so tightly that you swore he could see it, see the way his words wrecked you from the inside out.

Jake didn’t wait for you to answer. He already knew. He had proof.

The realization crashed into you like a truck. The video.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your laptop. The folder. The fucking recording from that morning.

The vibrator. The way you moaned his name. The way you begged for it to be him.

Jake had seen it.

Oh my god.

He had fucking seen it.

A low chuckle vibrated from deep in his chest, his lips twitching upward at the sheer horror that must have been written all over your face. His eyes darkened, filling with something lethal, something triumphant.

And then came the final blow—the words that shattered you, sent that familiar ache between your legs into something unbearable.

“You could’ve just asked me to help, baby.”

Your stomach dropped. Your knees almost buckled.

You were done for.

The world tilted on its axis. Everything else around you—the bustling students, the muffled sounds of conversations, the faint scraping of chairs against tile—blurred into meaningless background noise. All that existed was him. His smirk. His words. The absolute certainty in his voice that left no room for denial.

Your mouth opened, some kind of weak protest forming on your tongue, but Jake moved closer, shutting you down before you even had a chance to breathe. His presence was overwhelming, his body heat radiating off him like a furnace, his scent—clean, musky, laced with something so distinctly him—filling your senses, making your knees weak.

“You get off before class,” he repeated, softer this time, almost teasing, like he was savoring the confession he had yet to hear from your own lips. His voice dropped lower, becoming something dark, possessive. “And you think about me when you do it, don’t you?”

Your lungs seized. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

Jake tilted his head, studying you, watching the way your fingers twitched at your sides, the way your lips parted in a silent gasp, the way your thighs pressed together instinctively—as if that would do anything to stop the inevitable, the brutal ache between your legs that he had just made ten times worse.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” His voice was smooth, dripping with mocking confidence, because he knew you couldn’t.

Your brain scrambled for an escape. For an excuse. For anything that might get you out of this, because if you admitted it—if you said it out loud—there would be no turning back. You’d be his. Completely. Utterly.

Jake was too close now, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear, his tone taunting. “What is it, baby?” His fingers ghosted along your wrist, not quite touching but close enough to drive you insane. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy thinking about the way you spread your legs for me every morning?”

Your breath left you in a shattered gasp.

You shouldn’t have reacted. You knew better. But your body betrayed you—your thighs clenched harder, your nipples tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, your entire core clenched around nothing, desperate for the friction you had been denying yourself all class.

Jake saw it. He saw everything.

He chuckled, voice dark and satisfied. “Oh, you really are a filthy little thing, aren’t you?”

Your body burned.

Jake smirked. His fingers—strong, veined, perfect—finally reached you, just the barest brush of his knuckle against the inside of your wrist, but it sent a violent shudder through you.

And now, he fucking knew it.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said smoothly, turning away like he hadn’t just left you a trembling, soaking mess in the middle of the hallway.

-

You spent the entire day in a state of absolute wreckage.

After Jake’s confrontation in the hallway, after his words had wrapped around you like a noose, you had barely functioned. Your thoughts were a mess, your body useless, stuck in a constant loop of shame, arousal, and anticipation. He had seen it. He had seen you—spread out, stuffed full, moaning his name like a desperate, filthy thing. And now, tonight, you had to face him again.

Your stomach flipped violently as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, gripping the sink, forcing yourself to take slow, measured breaths.

You had to get it together. You had to act like you weren’t already falling apart before you even stepped into his dorm.

But the problem was—you were. You so were.

The moment you let your mind wander, it all came rushing back. Jake’s voice, low and taunting. His gaze, dark and knowing. The way his fingers had hovered so close to your skin, how he had whispered filth into your ear like he already owned you.

And now, tonight, he would.

Your breath shuddered. Your thighs clenched.

You couldn’t go to him like this, already weak and needy. You needed to take the edge off, just enough to think clearly, just enough to face him without completely unraveling the second he looked at you.

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts before you could think twice.

You sighed, the relief instant as your fingers slid through the ridiculous mess between your legs. You were soaked, soaked, had been all day. It was humiliating, how little it took. The heat, the tension, the memory of him catching you—it had left you dripping, thighs sticky and aching since the moment he walked away from you in that hallway.

But tonight, you needed more than your fingers.

Your eyes flicked to the cool bathroom sink, and your breath hitched.

You turned around, hands bracing against the counter, angling yourself just right before slipping your fingers behind you, dragging them through your folds from the back, teasing your entrance in a way that made your legs tremble.

A gasp ripped from your throat as you pressed two fingers inside, stretching yourself open while your hips rocked forward, grinding your clit against the cold, smooth porcelain. The sensation was overwhelming—the deep, slow stretch inside you paired with the delicious friction against your swollen, aching clit.

“F-Fuck,” you whimpered, forehead pressing against the mirror as you humped the sink, fingering yourself deeper, imagining it was Jake standing behind you, one big hand on your hip, the other sliding down between your legs to keep you in place while he filled you up.

Your breath came ragged, hips stuttering, thighs quivering as you rode the edge, grinding your clit down harder, fucking your fingers deeper, thinking about how Jake would hold you still, how he’d groan against your ear, whispering, “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Your stomach tightened, the orgasm coiling, building, about to—

And then your phone buzzed.

You froze.

Your heart stopped. Your stomach plummeted. Your fingers stilled immediately, guilt crashing over you in suffocating waves.

You scrambled for your phone, unlocking it with shaking hands.

Jake: Don’t. Touch. Yourself.

Your blood ran cold.

You swallowed, staring at the text, heart pounding as another one came through.

Jake: You’ll do that when you’re here.

Your breath left you in a shaky exhale, thighs clenching involuntarily at the absolute authority in his words. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could only sit there, fingers still buried inside yourself, aching, trembling, waiting.

Then—

Jake: And when you get here? You’re going to show me just how much you need it.

Your entire body shuddered.

Your clit pulsed beneath your untouched folds, but you didn’t dare move. Not now. Not when you were seconds away from finishing, and Jake had just ripped that privilege away from you.

Another text buzzed onto the screen.

Jake: If you’re even a second late, I’ll make you wait even longer.

You swallowed a whimper. You had to go. Now.

Your legs felt like they barely worked as you stumbled up from the sink, heart hammering, stomach twisting into knots of frustration, anticipation, arousal so thick you could choke on it.

You had no idea how you were going to survive this night.

-

You hesitated outside Jake’s door, hands clammy, thighs pressed together so tightly it almost hurt.

Your body wasn’t over it.

Not even close.

The bathroom incident had left you on the brink, your body still buzzing, still needy, still aching for something you weren’t allowed to have until you stepped inside. You could still feel it—the cool sink against your clit, the way your own fingers had stretched you open from behind, the way Jake’s texts had snapped you back to reality at the worst possible moment.

And now you were here.

You wiped your palms on your thighs, forced yourself to breathe, forced yourself to knock even though every part of you screamed run.

The door opened almost immediately.

Jake stood there, leaning against the frame, one hand braced above his head, the other resting casually in the pocket of his sweatpants. His eyes raked over you, scanning your body like he already knew what kind of state you were in.

Like he could smell it on you.

You swallowed hard, barely holding back a whimper.

“Come in.”

His voice was smooth, deep, dripping with something dangerous. He stepped aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze past him. The second you moved, his hand brushed against your lower back—a simple touch, barely even there, but it felt like a brand.

Your breath hitched.

The door clicked shut behind you.

You were alone with him now.

The air felt thick, suffocating, charged. You could hear your own pulse pounding in your ears, the faint sound of your breath coming in quick, uneven puffs. Your nerves were a mess, anticipation tangling with embarrassment because—

You knew why you were here.

And so did Jake.

You took a shaky step forward, barely processing the way Jake moved behind you. Slow. Calculated.

“So,” he murmured, the heat of his breath suddenly right at your ear. “Are you gonna tell me how close you were?”

Your entire body seized up.

He wasn’t touching you—not yet—but his presence alone was suffocating, pressing against you like a heavy weight.

You licked your lips, swallowed hard. “W-what?”

Jake chuckled.

“Don’t play dumb, baby.” His fingers ghosted over your hip, just enough to make you tremble. “I told you not to touch yourself. And yet…”

You sucked in a breath as his other hand trailed up, dragging two fingers over your exposed throat, pressing just lightly enough that your head tipped back on instinct.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Your thighs clenched.

His touch was barely there but it was too much. Too much, because you were already soaked, already aching, already at the point where you’d do anything—

But he wasn’t giving it to you.

Not yet.

Instead, he pressed his fingers just a little more firmly against your throat, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to look at him. His dark eyes held yours, and the corner of his mouth curled.

“Be honest with me.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your thighs.

Jake’s fingers brushed down your throat, slow, teasing, until they rested just beneath your collarbone. His thumb dragged lower, just barely dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt.

You could barely breathe.

You shouldn’t have been this turned on just from a few words. Just from the way his thumb traced your skin, from the way he was looking at you like he already owned you.

But then he leaned in, so fucking close, lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered—

“How close were you when I told you to stop?”

A whimper escaped you before you could stop it.

Jake groaned, low and satisfied. His fingers tightened, just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your body scream for more.

“I bet you were close.” His breath was hot, his tone mocking. “I bet you were right there, fingers dripping, about to make a mess of yourself.”

You bit your lip hard enough to sting, trying to stop the truth from slipping out.

Because if he knew the full truth—if he knew what you’d actually been doing—

Grinding against the bathroom sink, rubbing your clit against the cool porcelain like some desperate, shameless thing—

You’d die on the spot.

Jake must have sensed it. Felt it. Because his fingers curled against your chin, tilting your face up. His eyes searched yours, his smirk deepening, his voice dropping even lower.

“What else?”

Your pulse skipped. “W-what?”

His lips nearly brushed yours. “You were doing more than just touching yourself, weren’t you?”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Your silence was a dead giveaway.

Jake chuckled, dark and knowing. His grip on your chin tightened. “Tell me.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I—I…” The words got stuck in your throat.

His smirk widened. “You’re gonna say it out loud, baby. Or I’ll make you.”

Your breath shook, your entire body on the verge of collapse. You wanted to fight it, wanted to pretend you still had some dignity left, but Jake’s gaze was relentless.

And he wouldn’t let you go until you gave him what he wanted.

A deep, humiliating heat spread over your body as you finally whispered, “I—I was…grinding against the sink.”

Jake inhaled sharply, his entire body going still.

His grip on your chin tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—just processed what you’d just admitted.

Then, slowly, so deliberately that it made your stomach flip, he let out a low, dark chuckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his free hand flexing at his side. “That’s what you were doing?”

You nodded weakly, shame pooling in your stomach.

Jake exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching, and suddenly, his hand slid from your chin to your throat, holding you there—not squeezing, just keeping you still.

“You’re a filthy little thing, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Jake smirked, something dangerous flashing in his gaze, something calculated.

“You’re gonna show me,” he murmured. “Later.”

Your breath hitched.

“And I’m gonna take a video.”

Your knees nearly gave out.

Jake sat back on his bed, legs spread wide, leaning against the headboard with an ease that only made the situation worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it. His hoodie was gone, discarded somewhere in the room, leaving nothing but smooth, bare skin, the sharp lines of his collarbones, the toned muscles of his chest, and the faintest trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

But what really ruined you was the bulge straining against the soft fabric of his grey sweats.

It was… big. Heavy. Obscene. The kind of size that made your stomach clench with something dangerously close to desperation. He wasn’t even touching himself, wasn’t even adjusting—just sitting there, watching you like he had all the time in the world.

And then he did something that made your breath stutter.

He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone, unlocking it with a single flick before tilting his head at you, smirk lazy, expectant.

“I’m filming this,” he murmured, voice dripping with authority. “Start stripping.”

Your stomach flipped.

Your body burned.

You should have hesitated—should have felt embarrassed, should have tried to argue—but the only thing you felt was a deep, thrilling pulse between your legs.

You didn’t even question it.

Your hands moved before your brain caught up, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt, peeling it up slowly, dragging it over your stomach, higher, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing him. The air felt thick, charged, electric as you bared more skin, the camera recording every second.

Jake hummed approvingly. “Good girl. Keep going.”

The shirt hit the floor. You reached for your shorts next, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, dragging them down inch by inch, knowing exactly how much of a show you were giving him.

By the time you stood before him, stripped down to nothing but your soaked panties, Jake’s smirk had sharpened into something dangerous.

“Lose those too,” he ordered, tilting the phone slightly to capture your every movement.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stop.

You slid your hands down, curling your fingers beneath the waistband, peeling them down agonizingly slow, letting the fabric drag over your thighs before stepping out of them completely.

Now you were bare.

Jake exhaled through his nose, pleased. His free hand dragged over his own thigh, fingers flexing, his grip tightening the moment you stepped forward, fully exposed, completely his.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Let me see what you do when you think about me.”

You obeyed instantly, trailing your fingers over your stomach, your thighs, your hips—everywhere but where you needed it most. Your breath came in slow, teasing gasps as you let your fingers finally slip lower, grazing your clit, a sharp whimper escaping as you made contact with the aching heat between your legs.

Jake groaned, the sound low, filthy.

“Louder.”

You whimpered, fingers pressing deeper, moving slower, dragging the pleasure out just to tease him, just to see how long he’d let you keep control.

“Louder,” he said again, voice darker this time. “I want to hear every filthy little sound you make.”

Something inside you snapped.

You moaned. Loudly.

Then again. And again.

It was like you couldn’t stop. The moment the first shameless, desperate noise slipped past your lips, your mouth wouldn’t close, your voice wouldn’t stop spilling every thought you had.

“Jake—fuck—I think about you all the time—”

Your fingers slid deeper, your hips rocking into the pressure.

“I think about your hands, how big they are, how rough they’d feel on me—”

Jake let out a low, ragged groan, his fingers twitching against the bed.

“I think about your mouth, how you’d ruin me with it, how you’d hold me still and make me take it—”

Your breath hitched as you spread your legs wider, rubbing yourself faster, your mind a mess of filth.

“I think about your cock,” you gasped, your fingers slick, sliding in and out shamelessly. “How big it is, how you’d stretch me open, how you’d fill me so fucking deep—”

Jake exhaled sharply, his jaw locked, his knuckles turning white against his thigh.

Then, in an instant, he moved.

You barely had time to react before his hand wrapped around your throat, gripping firm, dominant, unrelenting as he dragged you forward. Your breath caught, a choked gasp escaping as he pulled you right into his lap, forcing you to straddle him, the heat of his body pressing against you.

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.

“Stop pretending,” he growled, his breath hot against your lips, his other hand pushing between your thighs, feeling how soaked you were. “You want to act like a shy little thing? Like you’re so innocent?”

His fingers dragged through your slick, making you tremble, making you whimper as your hands gripped his shoulders for support.

“Enough of that.” His thumb pressed against your throat, tilting your head back, his gaze dark, dangerous. “Start acting like the filthy little slut you actually are.”

Something in you broke open.

You whimpered, thighs clenching, your fingers digging into his skin as your hips rolled forward, grinding against his sweatpants, against the huge, heavy bulge pressing against you.

Jake groaned, his grip on your throat flexing, his lips twitching into something darkly amused as you completely fell apart for him.

“There she is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted.”

Your mouth ran wild, the words spilling before you could stop them—

“I want you to ruin me, Jake—”

You rocked against him, panting, desperate, his hand tight in your hair now, keeping you in place, making you take it.

“Want you to spread me open—make me take every inch of you—”

Jake groaned, low and wrecked, his hands gripping your hips, holding you against him as you rubbed yourself raw against his cock, soaking his sweatpants with how desperate you were.

You did exactly that.

You pulled your fingers out, spreading your slick between them, before shifting positions—

Turning around.

Bending over.

Spreading yourself open for him.

A sharp, gritted curse came from behind you.

Jake’s fingers flexed against his thigh, his entire body going rigid as he took in the sight before him—your ass up, your fingers teasing at your entrance, the shameless, dripping mess you were making of yourself.

He let out a slow, heavy breath, one that sounded so ragged, so fucking strained, that you almost moaned just from hearing it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, voice low, wrecked.

And that was the moment you knew.

Jake was going to destroy you.

Jake let the silence stretch, let the weight of his gaze sink into you, let you feel just how much he was holding back—barely.

You were still bent over in front of him, still spreading yourself wide, still waiting, dripping, panting, desperate, while he sat back and took his time.

His voice, low, rough, taunting:

“You think this is how I’d fuck you?”

Your stomach plummeted.

Jake exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his jaw before shaking his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

“That’s cute, baby,” he murmured, shifting forward until you could feel his heat against you, his presence looming over your back, his breath hitting your spine.

But then—

He grabbed your hips, both hands firm, controlling, and yanked you back against him. Your breath hitched, a choked gasp slipping from your lips at the sudden contact—your bare, slick heat pressing against the thick, hard outline of his cock.

Jake groaned, low, deep, wrecked, his fingers tightening, his chest heaving as he held you there, perfectly still, completely at his mercy.

“First mistake,” he muttered, voice rough against your ear. “You wouldn’t be in charge of how fast or slow I fuck you. That’s my job.”

A shudder ran through you, your hands clenching against the sheets as Jake’s grip ground you against him, making you feel every inch of his cock through his sweatpants.

“Second mistake?” he continued, dragging his fingers over the curve of your ass, featherlight, teasing. “You think I’d let you touch yourself first?”

Your breath caught as his hand moved lower, closer, his touch just barely skimming over your soaked entrance, not enough, not even close, just a tease.

His fingers—elegant, veined, strong—dragged through your slick, gathering it, smearing it over you, spreading you open, making you tremble.

“I’d have you like this first,” Jake murmured, voice silk and gravel, his breath hitting the nape of your neck as his fingers teased, circled, prodded, but never gave you what you needed. “Dripping. Begging.”

His fingers brushed over your tight, untouched entrance, slicking it up with your own mess, and you whimpered, hips jolting forward on instinct, trying to escape the sensation—

But Jake just chuckled.

“Oh?” His tone was mocking, amused. “That got your attention?”

Your whole body seized, heat flaming through your spine, burning at your core, because—

He was still teasing your ass.

Just barely, just the pad of his fingertip, smearing your slick in slow, lazy circles, pressing, nudging, teasing, but not pushing inside.

And he wasn’t letting you run from it.

His free hand pressed into your lower back, keeping you right where he wanted you, keeping you spread, exposed, open.

“You think about this too?” he murmured, voice dark, edged with pure sin. “You think about my fingers stretching you out?”

Your throat closed, your body burning, your breath hitching in a desperate, humiliated whimper, because—

Yes.

Yes, you did.

Jake chuckled, pleased, tilting his head as if piecing it all together.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his fingertip pressing just a little more insistently, not pushing in yet, just teasing, just threatening to. “You should’ve seen yourself.”

Your pulse pounded.

“I bet you don’t even know how messy you looked,” he continued, mocking, condescending. “Whimpering, drooling all over your pillow, fucking yourself open for me.”

Your entire body jerked, because you knew exactly what video he was talking about.

Jake just laughed under his breath, slow, deliberate, dragging it out.

“I don’t even think you knew what you were saying, baby,” he murmured, voice almost affectionate, like he was reminiscing. “Kept whining about how you wished it was my cock stretching you open, stuffing you full.”

A wrecked, desperate moan tore from your throat before you could stop it.

Jake groaned, low, pleased.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

His finger pressed harder, circling, coaxing, never giving you enough—just teasing, just pushing your body past what it thought it could take.

His other hand moved.

His fingers found your clit, pinching, rolling, flicking over the swollen bud with zero mercy.

You gasped, your legs nearly giving out, your moan high, broken, utterly wrecked.

Jake groaned at the sound, his own restraint hanging by a thread, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Stick your tongue out,” he ordered, voice deep, commanding.

You barely had time to process the words before your mouth obeyed, tongue slipping out, slick and needy, desperate for whatever he’d give you.

Jake exhaled through his nose, satisfied.

He shoved his fingers inside your mouth.

You whined, head tilting back as he pressed deeper, letting you taste the salt of his skin, letting you soak them, letting you understand exactly what he was about to do.

“Suck,” he murmured, and you did, your lips wrapping around his fingers, your tongue laving over them, your moans vibrating through your chest.

Jake cursed under his breath, his cock twitching hard beneath his sweatpants, his control hanging on by a fucking thread.

He pulled his fingers out, slick, wet, dripping with your spit.

And then he shoved that same finger inside you.

Your whole body jerked, your breath stuttering, your mind blanking completely as the wet stretch burned, as your body took him, clenched around him, pulled him deeper.

Jake groaned, his free hand slamming onto your lower back, keeping you still, forcing you to take it.

“God,” he muttered, voice strained. “Look at you.”

His finger slid deeper, fucking into you, spreading you open, filling you slowly, deliberately, ruining you.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” he murmured. “Made to be filled.”

Your moans shattered, your legs trembling, your hands gripping the sheets, your whole body unraveling under him.

Jake just smirked, watching you come apart.

“That’s okay, baby,” he murmured, his lips curling against your ear. “I’m gonna make sure you take it better than that next time.”

Your stomach dropped.

Next time.

Jake just smirked.

“Oh,” he murmured, voice lethal. “And don’t forget—I’m filming the next one.”

Jake had had enough.

Enough of teasing, enough of waiting, enough of holding back while you squirmed, while you whimpered, while you dripped all over yourself without him even needing to try.

Now he was going to ruin you.

His fingers slid out of you slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch of the slick drag, letting your body clench around nothing, aching, desperate for more.

You whined, shifting, pushing back instinctively, chasing friction, but Jake’s hands were already on you, pushing you down, flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

Before you could even catch your breath, he was on you.

His grip locked onto your thighs, spreading you wide, forcing your legs apart so you had no choice but to bare yourself to him completely.

Your pulse roared in your ears.

Jake exhaled slowly, his eyes dark, hungry, his gaze locked onto the messy, dripping heat between your legs.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself, his fingers flexing against your thighs, holding you open like you belonged to him.

Your stomach flipped. Your breath hitched. Your body throbbed.

“Be a good girl and show me how bad you want it.”

Your brain blanked.

You knew what he meant. Knew he was testing you. Knew he wanted to see if you were still pretending, still holding back, still playing shy when you were already dripping for him.

He would stop.

He would kick you out.

His voice was low, slow, unforgiving when he spoke again. “If you don’t act like the whore I know you are, I’m gonna stop. And I’m gonna make you leave.”

Your breath shattered.

The weight of his words hit you like a slap to the face.

No more hesitation. No more nerves. No more pretending.

Your whole body flushed hot, heat spreading from your cheeks down to your core as you swallowed your pride, swallowed your shame, and did exactly what he asked.

You let your thighs fall even wider, your hands sliding down your stomach, past your hips, until your fingers spread yourself open for him, letting him see everything.

Jake’s breath left him in a ragged curse.

“That’s it,” he muttered, almost to himself. “There she is.”

His mouth latched onto you immediately, tongue dragging through your folds, hot and wet and messy, licking up every bit of slick that had spilled from you since he started his torment.

You screamed.

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling, gripping, holding on for dear life as Jake ate you alive.

He groaned against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core, making your hips buck, making you writhe beneath him.

But Jake was ready for it.

His arms hooked under your thighs, locking them over his shoulders, his hands gripping your hips tight, pinning you down as he worked you over with his tongue, messy and relentless, like he was trying to drown in you.

“Oh my fucking—Jake—”

You gasped, sobbed, choked on your own moans, because he wasn’t just licking you,

He was devouring you.

Sucking, flicking, rolling his tongue over your clit, dipping lower to fuck you with it, groaning into you every time your walls fluttered around the slick muscle.

Your body twitched, overwhelmed, shaking under the pressure of his grip, the raw, unrelenting pace of his tongue.

He was merciless.

No teasing. No holding back.

Just Jake, consuming you, controlling you, wrecking you.

Your thighs tensed, your stomach tightened, your breath coming in short, sharp, desperate gasps, and Jake fucking felt it.

He knew you were close.

So he got mean.

He pulled away just enough to whisper against your swollen, drenched folds—

“Make a mess of my face, baby.”

Your stomach dropped.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it hard.

Everything snapped.

Your whole body bowed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your vision blurring, blanking, as pleasure slammed into you, violent and unforgiving.

You came hard, your body convulsing, your legs trying to snap shut around his head, but Jake just held you there, kept you wide open, kept his tongue right where you needed it, licking you through it, dragging it out until you were a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him.

When it finally became too much, when your whimpers turned into soft, wrecked sobs, Jake eased up, pressing slow, teasing kisses against your oversensitive clit before finally pulling away.

Your chest heaved, your skin flushed, your whole body buzzing, as you blinked up at the ceiling, completely wrecked, ruined, destroyed.

Jake sat back, grinning, his lips and chin shiny, slick, messy with you.

His voice was smug, satisfied, when he finally spoke.

“That’s my girl.”

You were still panting, still trembling, your body wrecked from the brutal pace of his tongue. But Jake wasn’t done with you yet.

Not even close.

Before you could recover, before you could even think, his hands were on you again, flipping you onto your stomach with zero effort, pressing his weight down against you, his body hot, heavy, overwhelming.

You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt it,

The thick, hot length of his cock pressing between your thighs, dragging through your slick, coating himself in the mess he’d made of you.

Your whole body shuddered.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, voice dark, dangerous. “You ready for me, baby?”

You barely managed to nod, your hips tilting up, your back arching, offering yourself up to him in the filthiest display of submission.

Jake groaned, his breath shuddering against your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’ve been ready for me since day one.”

Your breath hitched when he pulled back, when you felt him shift, when you felt him line himself up,

You felt it.

The thick, heavy weight of his cock sliding between your folds, dragging over your clit, teasing your entrance, spreading you open inch by inch, but not pushing in yet.

You whimpered, a wrecked, frustrated sound, trying to push back, trying to take him, but Jake’s hands were on your hips immediately, holding you still.

“Not yet,” he murmured, voice taunting, smug. “You feel that?”

Your whole body tightened as he dragged himself over your entrance again, so close but still not giving it to you.

“Feel how big I am?”

You nodded furiously, eyes blown wide, unfocused, needy, trying to breathe through the overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching you open already before he was even inside.

Jake chuckled, one hand leaving your hip, gripping the thick base of himself, dragging the fat, swollen head against your entrance over and over, smearing your slick across his length.

“Bet you thought about it, huh?” he murmured, his free hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing you further into the mattress. “Bet you imagined how deep I’d be.”

A wrecked, whiny little moan tumbled from your lips.

Yeah. You had.

And now you could feel it.

Jake was thick. Heavy. Long enough that you knew he was going to ruin you completely.

The head of his cock was flushed a deep, angry red, already slick with precum and the mess you’d made of yourself. A thick vein ran down the underside, pulsing against your entrance as he dragged himself over your folds again and again, teasing, taunting, letting you feel every single inch of what was about to wreck you.

Your thighs shook, your hands fisting the sheets, your whole body fighting to stay still.

Jake smirked.

“Want it that bad?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, pressing back against him, desperate to be filled.

Jake groaned, low, dark, lethal.

He spat directly onto your asshole.

Your whole body jerked violently, your breath choking out of you, a sharp, desperate gasp breaking from your throat at the filthy, messy sound of it.

Jake chuckled darkly, rubbing the wetness into you with his thumb, spreading it over your tight entrance, teasing, circling, smearing it with your own slick.

“Thought about this too, huh?” he murmured, pressing just the tip of his thumb against it, making your thighs tremble, making your stomach flip, making you whine.

But he didn’t push in.

No—he dragged his spit-slicked thumb down, tracing it between your folds, pressing it against your clit in a slow, taunting rub just as he finally—

Pushed inside.

Your mouth fell open in a wrecked, silent scream, your entire body going taut, because Jake didn’t ease in.

He split you open.

A long, low groan rumbled in his chest, his fingers tightening on your hips, his breath shaking as he forced you to take every inch.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his voice strained, wrecked, strained as he buried himself to the hilt. “So fucking tight.”

Your fingernails dug into the sheets, your legs shaking, your breath completely gone, because the stretch was unbearable, overwhelming, perfect.

Jake didn’t move right away.

He let you feel it.

Feel how deep he was, how full he made you, how there was no more space inside you for anything else but him.

He pulled back, 

And slammed back in.

Your whole body jolted forward, a sharp, shocked moan spilling from your lips as Jake set a brutal, punishing pace immediately.

“You’re gonna take it like a good little slut, yeah?” he growled, his voice low, rough, filthy. “Gonna take it just like you do in those videos?”

You sobbed, whimpered, nodded frantically, barely able to form words, barely able to breathe.

Jake groaned, watching you fall apart, watching you drool all over his cock, watching your mouth fall open in perfect, wordless pleasure.

He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear, his pace never faltering, pounding into you so deep you saw stars.

“Push back on it,” he ordered.

You barely even registered the command—just obeyed immediately, rocking back against him, meeting every thrust, taking him like you were made for it.

Jake growled, his grip tightening, watching the way his cock slid in and out of you, watching the way you took every inch, watching the way you spread yourself open for him completely.

“Good girl,” he gritted out, sweat dripping from his temples, his breath ragged. “That’s it, baby. Show me what a good little whore you are.”

His fingers slid back down, toying with your clit, rubbing it in tight, filthy circles, his thrusts getting harder, deeper, meaner.

Your vision blurred.

Your body shook violently.

“Jake—fuck—I can’t—”

He chuckled darkly, leaning over you again, his lips brushing your ear as he ruined you completely.

“Yes, you can.”

“Be a good girl and come all over my cock.”

Your whole world shattered.

The air in the room was thick, heavy with the scent of sex and sweat and everything filthy you’d just done.

Your body was still shaking, your limbs still boneless, every nerve still buzzing from the way Jake had just completely, utterly wrecked you.

His hands were on you again.

Gentle.

You barely registered the shift at first—too dazed, too exhausted, too blissed out to notice the way Jake’s grip had softened, the way his rough, dominant touch had turned into something careful, careful, careful.

You blinked, still coming down, still floating, as Jake slowly eased himself out of you, hushing you immediately when you whimpered at the loss.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a stark contrast to the filthy, merciless way he’d been talking to you minutes ago.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Because Jake sounded different.

You barely had time to process it before he moved, scooping you up effortlessly, pulling you into his lap like you were the most precious fucking thing in the world.

Your stomach flipped.

“Jake—”

“Shh.”

His lips brushed your forehead.

Your heart skipped. Your breath caught.

Because Jake had kissed you.

For the first time. But not on your lips.

Not yet.

His hands rubbed slow, soothing circles over your back, his voice a quiet murmur against your skin. “Are you okay?”

You blinked at him, completely thrown. Because what the fuck?

Where was the cocky, filthy-mouthed Jake who had just spent the past hour ruining your entire existence?

Where was the smug, insufferable bastard who had made you beg for it, who had spat on your ass, who had laughed while you drooled all over his cock?

Because the guy holding you now? Was someone else entirely. His hands were warm, steady, grounding. His gaze was soft, searching, real.

Your lips parted, still stunned, but before you could say anything, Jake let out a quiet, almost nervous chuckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face before looking back at you. “I should’ve kissed you first.”

Your breath hitched.

Jake exhaled, shaking his head. “Before all of that.” His fingers traced light, delicate patterns up and down your spine. “Didn’t want the first time I kissed you to be during sex.”

Something in your chest ached. You didn’t know what to say.

Because this wasn’t what you expected.

Jake had spent weeks taunting you, teasing you, pushing you past your limits— Now he was holding you like he never wanted to let go. You swallowed, watching him carefully, studying him, trying to understand.

“Why?” you whispered.

Jake’s lips curled into a small, almost sheepish smirk.

His fingers found your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Because I wanted it to mean something.”

Your entire body stilled. Your pulse roared in your ears.

Jake held your gaze, serious now, voice soft but firm.

“I don’t share,” he murmured.

Your stomach plummeted.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Jake tilted his head, his fingers sliding up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, so gentle, so intimate, so fucking real.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he continued, his voice low, steady, certain. “I don’t want you fucking anyone else.”

Your breath shuddered. Jake’s eyes flickered down to your lips, slowly He finally kissed you.

Slow. Deep. Consuming.

And just like that, you knew you were done for.

-

Jake’s words from that first night still haunted you.

“You’re gonna show me later.”

You were.

The bathroom lights were dim, the mirror already fogging up from the heat of the room, but none of that mattered. Not when Jake was standing behind you, one hand gripping your hip, the other holding his phone, recording every filthy, desperate second.

Your palms were pressed against the edge of the sink, your body bent forward, the cold porcelain digging into your clit as you grinded against it, mimicking exactly what he had caught you doing before.

Only this time, Jake was fucking you through it.

His cock dragged in and out of you, slow at first, deep and deliberate, splitting you open, making you feel every thick, devastating inch as you rocked your hips forward, rubbing yourself against the sink just like you had before he ever touched you.

Now, Jake was watching.

Now, Jake was inside you.

His breath was hot against your neck, his free hand trailing up your spine, fingers pressing between your shoulder blades, pushing you further down against the sink, making you spread your legs wider, making you take more of him, making you completely his.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice wrecked, low, approving, his free hand digging into your hip, holding you exactly where he wanted you. “Just like that. Just like you did for me before I ever fucking touched you.”

Your moans were high, gasping, desperate, bouncing off the tile walls, growing louder and louder as Jake’s thrusts grew faster, sharper, filthier.

“Look at yourself,” he growled, angling the phone so you could see the reflection—see the way your face was contorted with pleasure, see the way your tits bounced with every thrust, see the way his cock disappeared inside you, stretching you wide, filling you completely.

You locked eyes with him through the mirror, and something snapped.

A slow, wicked smirk curled on your lips, and suddenly, the whimpering mess you had been was gone.

You arched your back further, pushing your ass back against him, grinding onto his cock, fucking yourself onto him even harder, your mouth spilling filth without hesitation.

“You see that, baby?” Your voice was thick with sin, sultry and commanding. “See how good your cock looks inside me? Stretching me open like I was fucking made for it?”

Jake groaned, dark and wrecked, his grip tightening on your hips.

“Oh, you like that?” you cooed, deliberately clenching around him, making him hiss through his teeth. “Like watching me fuck myself on you?”

He gritted his teeth. “Jesus Christ.”

“Thought about this for so long,” you purred, rolling your hips. “Thought about you taking me like this—filming me—showing me what a good little slut I am for you.”

Jake cursed under his breath, his thrusts growing harder, faster, deeper, his control shattering as he pounded into you, forcing you against the sink, making you feel every fucking inch.

“You wanna keep talking, baby?” he gritted out, his hand snaking up to grip your throat, making you hold his gaze in the mirror. “Or do you wanna fucking come?”

Your moan broke, your whole body trembling, your legs shaking violently.

“I—I want both,” you gasped, a shameless, breathless mess. “Wanna come all over your cock while you fucking record it. Wanna make the dirtiest fucking video for you—so you can watch me fall apart over and over—”

Jake groaned, his restraint snapping completely.

His hand slid between your thighs, rubbing you mercilessly, his cock slamming into you faster, harder, filthier, and before you could even process it—

You were screaming, your orgasm ripping through you violently, your whole body convulsing, shaking, breaking apart.

Jake got every second on video.

-

Jake liked to smoke weed after long days.

He liked to do it while wrecking you.

The air was thick with smoke, the room hot, hazy, suffocating in the most intoxicating way. You were sprawled out on his bed, your thighs spread wide, your wrists pinned beside your head as Jake’s tongue dragged lazy, filthy circles over your clit, lapping at you with zero urgency, completely unbothered by how fucking desperate you were getting.

In his free hand? A joint.

Burning slow. The smoke curling through the air, weaving between your tangled bodies, seeping into your skin, into your mind, into your bones.

Every nerve in your body was on fire. Every slow, teasing flick of his tongue felt magnified, every inhale he took deepening the fog that was swallowing you whole.

You moaned, squirming, your fingers digging into the sheets as your hips lifted, chasing his mouth, trying to get more, but Jake just chuckled darkly, pinning you down, refusing to let you take control.

He lifted his head slightly, blowing a long, slow stream of thick, warm smoke over your drenched, swollen clit.

Your body jerked violently, a sharp cry breaking from your throat, the sensation too much, too overwhelming, too fucking filthy.

“Fuck—Jake—”

He groaned, lazy, satisfied, licking his lips before dragging his tongue through your folds again, so slow, so teasing, so fucking unbearable.

“Sensitive, baby?” His voice was thick, taunting, dripping with amusement. He took another deep inhale from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs, letting his fingers slide through your wetness, teasing, circling, rubbing—but never giving you enough.

He exhaled another thick, slow drag of smoke, letting it roll over your heat, watching as the wisps curled around your trembling thighs, your stomach, your completely wrecked, ruined body.

A wrecked, filthy moan spilled from your lips.

Jake smirked against your inner thigh, watching you twitch, tremble, shake, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, watching the way your fingers clawed at the sheets, desperate for more.

“You like that, baby?” he murmured, his fingers sliding deeper, pressing inside you so fucking slow, dragging against your walls, curling just right.

You whimpered, back arching off the mattress. “Yes—fuck, yes—”

Jake hummed approvingly, the sound low and sinful, his lips dragging over your inner thigh, nipping at the soft flesh, teasing, taunting.

He did something unholy.

He brought the joint down,

And pressed the burning tip directly to your clit.

It didn’t hurt—it was barely a graze, the heat of the ember just close enough to send a violent shockwave of pleasure-pain through your entire fucking body.

You screamed, your legs snapping closed around his head, but Jake just growled, gripping your thighs and spreading them wide again, forcing you open for him.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, bringing the joint back to his lips for another slow, deep pull. “Keep those legs open, baby.”

Your chest heaved, your mind spinning, every part of you hypersensitive, overstimulated, teetering on the fucking edge.

Jake watched you, eyes blown, hungry, dark, as he reached between your thighs again, his fingers finding your swollen, overstimulated clit, rubbing messy, lazy circles, smearing your slick, keeping you right there, right on the brink.

He exhaled another cloud of smoke, letting it roll directly over your heat.

Your moan broke, a sharp, wrecked sob, your body tensing, shaking, fighting the unbearable pressure building inside you.

“Oh, baby,” Jake mocked, his voice thick with sin, his fingers never stopping, never slowing. “You’re gonna fucking come just from this, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, writhing, your whole body fighting to hold itself together.

Jake’s lips twitched, his cock straining against his sweats, his own control slipping as he dragged the joint over your soaked folds, rubbing the tip against your clit, watching you jerk, watching your legs tremble, watching you fall apart for him.

You said it.

Your voice was high, wrecked, desperate.

“Please, Daddy.”

Jake froze.

He let out a deep, low groan, something dark flashing in his eyes. His grip on your thighs tightened, his body tensed, his restraint snapping completely.

His voice was rough, strained, wrecked beyond recognition.

“Say that shit again.”

You whimpered, grinding against nothing, teetering right on the edge of something violent.

“Please, Daddy,” you repeated, voice syrupy sweet, dripping with sin. “I need it. Need you to make me come so fucking hard I forget my own name—”

Jake growled, his entire body shuddering, his control obliterated.

He took another slow inhale,

He pressed the joint back to your clit, the heat searing, shocking, sending a violent shudder through your entire body.

Your legs spasmed, your stomach tensed, and suddenly you were gushing, soaking his face, his chest, the sheets beneath you, every single muscle in your body seizing as you squirted all over him.

Jake groaned loudly, his hand gripping your thigh bruisingly tight, his tongue lapping up the mess you made, drinking you down, humming against your dripping folds like he’d just found his new favorite way to get high.

Jake took the joint, still damp from where he’d pressed it against your soaked heat, brought it back to his lips, and took one final, slow hit.

His exhale was slow, deep, pure sin as he looked down at you, wrecked, spent, twitching beneath him.

He leaned in, grabbed your jaw, and kissed you.

Filthy. Deep. Destroying.

Smoke still lingered on his tongue, on his breath, invading your lungs, intoxicating you more than any drug ever could.

His teeth tugged at your lower lip, his hand gripping the back of your neck, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

And as he pulled away, leaving you breathless, ruined, completely fucking gone, he grinned against your lips, voice nothing but a low, wrecked murmur.

“Bet you taste even better than the high, baby.”

-

The bathroom was already steaming, condensation rolling down the glass shower door, the air thick with humidity—and the sounds of Jake fucking you senseless.

Your body was pressed against the glass, the cool surface a stark contrast to your feverish, flushed skin, your nipples dragging against it with every brutal thrust, leaving streaks of your desperation across the fogged-up surface.

Jake’s hands were everywhere—one gripping your hip tight enough to bruise, the other wrapped around your throat, holding you in place, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

Fucking lethal.

“You wanted this, huh?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear, his cock slamming into you from behind, deep, ruthless, unforgiving. “Wanted Daddy to take you like this?”

You whimpered, your forehead pressing into the glass, your nails scraping uselessly against it, because you had no control over anything anymore.

Jake wasn’t just fucking you. He was owning you.

His hand on your throat tightened, forcing you to lift your head, making you stare at your own fucked-out reflection in the glass.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone condescending, filthy, dripping with amusement. “You see yourself, baby?”

Your mouth hung open, your lips puffy, swollen, wrecked, your body shaking with every deep thrust, your nipples dragging against the slick surface of the glass, leaving desperate little streaks with every movement.

Jake chuckled darkly. “So fucking dumb for me, huh?”

You tried to speak—tried to say something, anything—but all that came out was a wrecked, helpless little sob.

Jake groaned, his free hand sliding down, gripping your jaw, forcing your head back, forcing you to keep looking.

“You wanted to fuck me in the shower?” he mocked, his hips snapping forward, burying himself so deep you saw fucking stars. “Now you can barely even stand.”

Your whole body convulsed, your walls clenching tightly around him, and Jake felt it.

Felt how fucking wrecked you were.

Felt how close you were.

And he wasn’t having it.

Not yet.

His thrusts suddenly slowed, the brutal, relentless pace shifting into deep, slow, torturous rolls of his hips, dragging his cock out of you so slowly, before slamming back inside.

You sobbed, the glass fogging up from your panting, helpless gasps.

“Oh, you don’t like that, baby?” he taunted, his grip on your jaw tightening, his thumb pushing into your mouth, forcing it open. “Thought you wanted Daddy to fuck you. What happened, huh?”

You whimpered around his thumb, your tongue lapping at the rough pad, sucking instinctively, needing something to hold onto before you fucking lost your mind.

Jake groaned, his pace picking up again, faster, harsher, filthier, his cock hitting deep, devastating spots inside you that made your legs buckle beneath you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, high, gasping little cries that bounced off the tile walls, mixing with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the shower running, the heavy panting of both of you completely fucking falling apart.

Jake leaned in, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, his hand on your jaw sliding down, wrapping fully around your throat.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he murmured, low, dark, dangerous.

You nodded frantically, whimpering, your hands bracing against the glass, leaving messy little fingerprints in the condensation.

Jake groaned, watching you lose yourself, watching the way your body responded to him, the way you trembled, the way you fucking fell apart for him.

“Go ahead, baby,” he murmured, his thrusts turning erratic, ruthless, brutal, perfect. “Come for me.”

Your whole body snapped.

A shattered, broken moan spilled from your lips as your orgasm slammed into you, your walls clenching, pulsing, milking him, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.

Jake cursed, his grip tightening, his own breath shattering against your ear as he thrust into you a few more times, then he buried himself deep, groaning through gritted teeth, coming inside you, his body tensing, shaking, completely fucking wrecked.

The only sound left in the room was your panting breaths, the steady patter of the shower, the faint creak of the glass as your bodies pressed against it, spent, ruined, completely fucking gone.

Jake’s hands slid to your hips, his grip softening, pulling you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you as his forehead pressed against the back of your neck.

A quiet, breathless chuckle escaped him. “Damn, baby.”

You laughed, weak, fucked-out, completely ruined.

“Next time,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You’re riding me.”

-

Jake had never been gentle.

Not really. Not when it came to you.

Because you pulled something reckless, desperate, uncontrollable out of him.

Tonight was different.

The candles flickered softly, the scent of warm vanilla filling the air, mixing with the faint traces of Jake’s cologne on his sheets. The playlist he made for you played quietly in the background, soft, slow, achingly sweet.

Jake was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

His hands were slow, careful, reverent as he traced your body, fingertips ghosting over your bare skin, leaving shivers in their wake.

He hovered over you, his gaze heavy, intense, the way he always looked at you when he was about to ruin you.

Tonight, he was going to love you.

“Happy one month, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours, soft, teasing, unbearably tender.

Your stomach flipped, your chest aching, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down, needing more.

Jake chuckled against your mouth, letting you kiss him, letting you taste the slow, burning affection behind every drag of his lips.

“You always so needy for me, huh?” he teased, grinning against your mouth, teasing but soft, always so soft.

You pouted, fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, slower.

Jake groaned, his body pressing into yours, his warmth wrapping around you, completely engulfing you.

And when he finally—finally—pushed inside you, it was the slowest thing you’d ever felt.

A sharp gasp slipped from your lips, your head falling back as Jake’s body sank into yours, inch by inch, stretching you, filling you completely.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath uneven, wrecked, completely lost in you.

You clenched around him, your thighs tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper, needing more,

But Jake just smirked, shaking his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your jaw.

“Not rushing tonight, baby,” he murmured, voice low, gentle, soothing, but firm. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Your chest ached, your breath shaking, your fingers sliding down his back, gripping onto him, holding him close.

Jake moved slowly, agonizingly so, rolling his hips into yours in long, deep strokes, his body pressed flush against you, his lips tracing every inch of your skin.

It was everything.

The way he whispered against your lips, soft, teasing, murmuring about how perfect you felt, how much he loved being inside you.

The way he kissed you between every word, slow, messy, deep, like he needed you to feel every bit of how much he wanted you, adored you, fucking loved you.

The way his hands caressed your body, memorizing every inch of you, fingertips dragging over your waist, your ribs, your thighs, like he needed to burn you into his skin.

It was soft.

It was overwhelming.

It was Jake, giving you every single piece of himself.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick, wrecked, raw, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw, before finding your lips again.

And when he finally—finally—pushed you over the edge, it was like drowning.

Your orgasm hit slow, deep, all-consuming, your whole body melting into his, your fingers gripping his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.

Jake followed right after, burying himself deep, shuddering, groaning into your mouth, completely fucking lost in you.

When you were spent, ruined, completely wrapped up in him, he didn’t move.

Didn’t pull away. Didn’t let you go.

Instead, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, soft, tender, adoring.

He kissed you.

Slow. Lingering. Perfect.

“I Love you,” he murmured, lips still pressed against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped.

Your breath hitched.

When you whispered it back, Jake smiled against your mouth.

-

Jake had been staring at you for a full ten minutes.

Not subtly. Not in passing. Full-on, pouty-lipped, arms-crossed, lovesick puppy-dog-eyes staring.

You had noticed, of course—you always noticed when Jake was desperate for attention—but you had been trying to see how long he would hold out before cracking. You scrolled through your phone lazily, sipping from your water bottle, pretending to be completely oblivious to the fact that your boyfriend was sulking next to you like you had just broken his heart.

A deep, dramatic sigh.

You smirked, tilting your head just slightly to catch him in your peripheral. Sure enough, he was still pouting, still glaring at you like you had done something terrible.

You raised a brow. “What?”

Jake let out another, even heavier sigh, rolling onto his side to face you, his arms curling around your waist, pulling you against him like you were his last source of oxygen.

“You haven’t kissed me yet,” he muttered, muffled against your shirt.

You blinked. “What?”

Jake lifted his head, his expression pure devastation.

“You haven’t kissed me,” he repeated, dead serious.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in your throat. “Jake—”

“Jakey,” he corrected, pointing to his cheek expectantly.

You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with amusement, but leaned in anyway, pressing a soft, slow peck to his cheek.

Jake let out the happiest sigh, his lips curling into the softest, sweetest little smile, eyes fluttering shut like he had just been granted salvation.

“Mmm,” he hummed, squeezing you tighter. “Better.”

You shook your head, laughing softly, trailing your fingers through his hair, but before you could pull away, he was tilting his chin up, tapping his other cheek.

“Missed a spot.”

You rolled your eyes, but indulged him, pressing another gentle kiss to his other cheek.

Jake sighed even deeper, his hands tightening around your waist, his grin growing even wider.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck, breathing you in.

You bit your lip, heart melting at how soft, sweet, and completely in love he was. Jake had his moods—he could be cocky, insatiable, dominant, but this? This was your favorite.

He nuzzled against you, sighing softly. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our wedding.”

Your breath hitched. “Oh?”

Jake just nodded, his smile so content, so blissful.

“Yeah. I’ve got it all planned out,” he mused, tilting his chin up expectantly again.

You smirked. “What?”

Jake pointed to his lips.

You giggled, leaning down, kissing him slow, savoring the soft little hum he let out, the way his fingers curled tighter into your sides.

When you pulled away, he was grinning like an idiot.

“Okay, so,” he started, eyes glimmering. “It’s gotta be on a beach. You in some flowy-ass dress, looking like a literal angel.”

You smiled at the thought, pressing another kiss to his temple.

Jake sighed, eyes slipping shut for a moment, his body completely relaxed, completely wrapped up in the idea.

“And our honeymoon?” he continued, his voice getting even softer, even dreamier. “Bora Bora. Or the Maldives. Somewhere I can keep you in bed for a whole week.”

You gasped, swatting his chest playfully. “Jake—”

“Jakey,” he corrected again, glaring immediately.

You sighed dramatically, leaning down and pressing a peck to his nose.

Jake sighed, so blissed out he could barely speak for a second.

“God, I love you,” he murmured, pressing tiny kisses to your collarbone, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

You smiled against his skin, your lips still ghosting over his temple. “Love you too.”

Jake hummed, shifting so he could press his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“You know,” he started, his voice lower, softer, full of something even deeper. “I was thinking three kids. Two boys, one girl.”

You smiled. “Oh yeah?”

“Or,” he continued, grinning, “what if we get twins? Like, one of each?”

You kissed his cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jake huffed, tugging you closer, burying himself into your warmth. “Not ridiculous. Just in love.”

He closed his eyes, sighing. “You’re gonna stay home, right? Take care of the house, the kids, let me take care of you?”

Your chest tightened. “You’d be okay with that?”

He snorted, pulling back to look at you like you had lost your mind. “Baby, I’d love that. I’d spoil you rotten.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Think about it,” he murmured, his voice turning lower, teasing. “You, waiting for me when I come home, wearing one of my shirts, telling me how much you missed me.”

You felt hot all over.

He smirked. “God, you’d be the best little housewife.”

You pressed your face into his chest, flustered, overwhelmed, completely wrapped around his finger.

Jake just laughed, holding you so tight, so safe, so his.

“And the house?” he murmured, squeezing your waist. “We need something big, but cozy. A huge kitchen—‘cause I know you love to cook. A fireplace, maybe? A backyard for the kids. A big-ass bed so I can keep you all to myself.”

You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. “Jake, stop.”

Jake grinned. “Jakey,” he corrected one last time, tapping his lips.

You rolled your eyes but leaned down anyway, kissing him slow, soft, deep.

He sighed into it, his fingers curling into your hair, holding you there, kissing you like he had all the time in the world.

And when you pulled away, breathless, hearts pounding, he whispered against your lips, “You’re gonna marry me.”

Your chest ached.

You couldn’t wait to. “Yeah, Jakey. I’m gonna marry you.”

-

The morning had started innocent enough.

At least, as innocent as waking up naked and tangled with Jake Sim could be.

You were supposed to get up early. You were supposed to go to class on time for once. But then Jake shifted, his warm, bare skin pressing into yours, his breath heavy against your ear, his hand already sliding between your thighs before you were even fully awake.

“Morning, baby,” he murmured, raspy, teasing, completely unbothered by the fact that you were already running late.

You lost all track of time.

Jake didn’t need to touch you to ruin you.

Sometimes, all it took was his voice.

“You’re not gonna make it to class, are you?” he mused, low and smug, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shuddered, squeezing your eyes shut as you pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to just his words.

Jake chuckled, shifting so he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you like he was already planning how much worse he was going to make it. Slow, teasing, torturously confident.

“You always do this,” he murmured, tracing lazy patterns along your stomach. “Pretend you’re gonna leave. Act like you’re strong enough to walk away from me.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the sheets, your chest rising and falling too quickly.

Jake smirked. He noticed.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was taunting, almost sympathetic. “Already shaking and I haven’t even touched you yet?”

You exhaled sharply, squeezing your legs tighter together.

Jake tsked. “Oh, sweetheart.”

His hand ghosted down, his fingers dragging over your hip, down the outside of your thigh, barely there, completely teasing.

“You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, biting your lip, refusing to answer.

He hummed, shaking his head. “So easy for me.”

You turned your head, hiding your face against the pillow, but Jake wasn’t having that.

“Look at me,” he murmured, low and firm, the kind of tone that made your stomach flip.

You hesitated, but turned back, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, heavy, filled with pure amusement.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, running a finger down your cheek, his voice turning softer, but still full of that unbearable smugness.

You swallowed, trying to keep your breathing even, but Jake could see right through you.

“You don’t wanna go to class,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your jaw, so soft, so slow. “You wanna stay right here, let me ruin you all over again.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets.

“Say it,” he coaxed, his hand sliding lower, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Tell me you’d rather be late.”

Your lips parted, your breath shaky.

Jake smirked, running his nose along your cheek, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“You wanna be good for me, don’t you, baby?”

You whimpered, your resolve crumbling.

And that’s all it took.

Jake chuckled, shifting over you fully, pressing you back into the mattress.

“That’s my girl.”

-

By the time you both finally dragged yourselves out of bed, you were already doomed.

Jake smirked as you struggled to stand on shaky legs, his grip on your waist firm as he steadied you, smug as ever.

“Careful, baby,” he murmured, biting his lip as he took in the mess he had made of you.

You shoved him, grumbling under your breath as you pulled on your sweater, knowing full well that no amount of adjusting was going to hide the way you looked thoroughly ruined.

Jake didn’t even try.

He pulled on the first hoodie he could find, rubbing a hand through his already-mussed-up hair, his lips still swollen from kissing you senseless.

By the time you actually left, you were beyond late.

Your professor narrowed his eyes immediately.

Jake grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders like it was no big deal, guiding you to your seats with zero shame, zero regret.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” your professor said dryly, crossing his arms, glancing between the two of you.

You swallowed hard. “Uh, yeah, sorry,”

Your professor raised a brow. “You both look… disheveled.”

You felt your entire body heat up, shifting in your seat as Jake just smirked.

“Must’ve been the wind,” Jake said smoothly, kicking his feet up under the desk, looking completely unbothered.

Your professor wasn’t convinced.

He squinted, glancing at you, then at Jake, then back at you.

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly. “The wind.”

Jake grinned wider.

Your professor exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

You nearly collapsed in relief, but Jake?

Jake was having way too much fun.

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, his voice low, teasing, smug.

“Baby, I think we’re getting too obvious.”

You resisted the urge to kick him under the desk.

From then on, every time you and Jake showed up late to class, looking like an absolute mess— Your professor just sighed, shook his head, and looked the other way.

fin.

-

TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @naurwayyyyy @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @annybah @zzhengyu @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex

[mimiluvsuu]

Sub puppy Jake who's very obidient,who knows his place,only being your personal dildo

Im so sorry for not doing this earlier, I was on writer's block nd didn't write for a few days 💔

Sub!puppy jake who always listens to mommy, never going against her orders.

Sub!puppy Jake who's obsessed with eating you out, always leaves your pussy wanting more.

Sub!puppy Jake who quite literally worships your pussy, always making sure you cum at least three times.

Sub!puppy Jake who's biggest turn on is degrading praise, I mean "lil pup doing so good.." "gonna be a good bitch for mommy?"

And he will literally FOLD.

Will be a brat sometimes, just to get you all riled up.

Sub!puppy Jake who believes his sole purpose is to pleasure you :( thinking his dick was made for your pussy only.

Sub!puppy Jake who likes it sloppy, will start drooling if you ride him good.

Sub!puppy Jake who turns into the sweetest puppy boy afterwards, taking care of you and running you a bath.

.

.

PLEASE REBLOCK AND DON'T STEAL! XX<33

I think I lost my ability to write 😕🙏

[p4ranormaluv-deactivated2025021]

CANDY CRUSH — 재윤

talking shit and subsequently being challenged to a fight by an ex pro boxer wasn’t how rookie jake imagined he’d get the hot ring girl to finally notice him. but on the off chance he doesn’t get his shit absolutely rocked, you’ve offered to be more than just his arm-candy after the big win. (OR: snitches get…bitches?)

PAIRING: boxer!jake x ring girl!reader

GENRE: smut (p with p, mdni), underground boxer au

CONTENTS: violence/illegal activity, mentioned drugs, ft. boxer!heeseung/boxer!bang chan, chan & reader are fwb at the beginning, jake’s a horndog (everyone is tbh), douchebag!chan (i love him, don’t take this personally), ‘omg you’re bleeding let me help you!’ scene, mentioned sweat/blood (but in a horny way), suggestive massage, dom!jake, big d*ck!jake, reader’s a tease (kinda bratty), degradation (b*tch, sl*t), praise, oral (g&r), (rough?) unprotected s*x, multiple org*sms, backshots, squirting, jake can pick reader up

WC: 11.8k

PLAYLIST: confessions - flo rida, sticky - tyler the creator, hallucination - stray kids, railway - stray kids, daydream - enhypen, love talk (eng ver) - wayv, baby don’t like it - nct 127

COPYRIGHT OF P4RANORMALUV. PLAGIARISM NOT TOLERATED.

the popcorn’s stale, the water is from a murky tap concealed under the plastic lid of a styrofoam cup, and jake can’t even drink the room temperature beer because he has a fight in an hour.

not that many people will be paying attention to his bout anyway; most spectators are only here to watch the reigning champion, bang chan, maul the next poor guy’s face in. which is probably why his fights are always at the end of the night, to ensure the maker’s (criminals) of the underground ring can suck as much money out of the crowd as they can. you’d think they’d figure out that offering some decent food would bring them more cash, but jake figures some criminals become law breakers by simply being dumb as fuck— so he digresses.

“shit, here they come, bro.” heeseung says, effectively calling jake over to lean against the balcony railing, having an upper view of the whole ring. jake knows exactly what heeseung’s vague words mean as he watches the ring girls file out from a side door, putting more weight on his forearms as he leans further, trying to spot your unmistakable figure— which is permanently ingrained into his mind at this point— amongst all the other women and bright spotlights.

“there’s yours,” heeseung points, directing jake’s eyes to you just as you bend over to squeeze between the rope barriers and step into the ring, getting an eyeful of your ass in those tight, red booty shorts.

you walk across the ring floor like it’s a catwalk, flashing a flirty smile as you and the other girls hype up the crowd, keeping them engaged before the next two fighters are announced. and damn, are you engaging; jake’s watched you more than enough to see you know how to make heads turn, how to stand out amongst all the others. your silhouette flashes behind jake’s eyelids when he blinks, he has the intervals of your swaying hips memorized, and his hand seems to always fall into that same rhythm when his cock is gripped between his fist; your voice flows like liquid-sex, and he imagines how his name would sound coming off your tongue, how you’d sound begging and crying as he stretches your sweet cunt around him— his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

but as you now lift a sign up with big, bold numbers, announcing the start of a new match, jake is reminded of the bitter reality that he’ll probably never have the chance to hear you yell out anything other than ‘round one!’— with no sexual connotation attached to the meaning.

the bitterness only deepens when you step off the ring’s platform and chan immediately sweeps you up into his arms, bulging muscles pressing into your flesh; then you disappear, chan leading you up the stairs to the very same balcony view heeseung and jake watch from— but on the opposite side, so close yet so far. your eyes never meet jake’s stare before you’re taken inside one of the rooms, intended for boxer’s to ‘warm up’, but are more often than not used to get high and have sex; which is probably what the two of you are about to do, have a good luck fuck before chan’s fight— not that the bastard needs anymore luck than he already has.

“the fuck you mean mine,” jake replies to heeseung, biting his lip in annoyance before turning his head away from your direction and to his friend. “she hasn’t even noticed my existence.”

“you practically drool a puddle when you look at her, maybe one day she’ll slip in it and fall on your dick.” heeseung smirks, wrapping his blistered knuckles in gauze, the poorly healed wound breaking open again after the bout he had earlier— but hey, he won, and got a little bit of chump change for it.

“you’re insane.” jake complains, rolling his eyes— but when he turns away from heeseung, he knows it’s to hide a humored smile.

“not even half as much as you.” the older rebuttals, slapping jake on the shoulder and turning him towards the room they stand just outside of. “now come on, you need to get ready. you’re on after this one.”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

“could you be a doll and go get us more drinks?” heeseung asks the half naked girl sitting on his lap.

he and jake (plus no-name ring girl) sit in a smoky room of the underground facility, getting high and drunk after another night of fighting in the ring like they usually do.

jake is feeling good, having won a bout against another boxer that was more well known, the spectators having mostly bet on his opponent; but jake beat his ass by— well, a landslide might be too generous, he does have a split lip and a bruise darkening on his temple— but he won, gaining not only more confidence in his skills, but also pushing his rank up a little bit. he hopes by the next fight he has, he’ll have a few more people cheering for him, putting money on his name. (and hopefully getting more money for it than the measly 30 dollars he’s been getting.)

“and can you check the fridge first?” jake adds on, the girl getting up from heeseung’s lap slowly, fuck me eyes flashing at the older before she looks over to jake and nods with a wink.

“sure, as long as i get a tip after.” she jokes, making heeseung bark out a laugh at the explicit pun just as she disappears out the door.

“oh, she wants it.” heeseung remarks with unbridled cockiness.

“she doesn’t want ‘it’, she wants yours.” jake corrects, breathing in his joint before sitting it down on the dirty ashtray.

“she wants both of ours.” heeseung rebuttals, eyes turning dark as they look at jake, prompting. “you in?”

at the question, jake exhales, smoke tendrils swirling out from between his lips; the high soothes his aching muscles, the minor injuries he gains from every fight.

“i dunno know, man.”

“come on, stop being emo!” heeseung whines, tone starkly changing from the lustful one he had seconds ago.

“pussy’s pussy, even when it’s not y/n’s, you know.” he rhetorically asks.

“i just don’t feel like it, bro! don’t even feel like moving.”

heeseung’s eyes roll in annoyance at his friend who’s practically become celibate over a girl that probably doesn't even know his name. he just doesn’t get it. “i doubt you’d have to. take one look at those toned thighs and tell me she wouldn’t ride it into the fucking sunset—“

“fresh out of booze.” the girl announces as she suddenly returns, unknowingly interrupting heeseung.

“even the warm kind?” jake complains.

“yeah,” she answers, returning to sit between the two of them on the couch, jake noticing how she makes sure she has a part of herself touching the both of them. “chan took all the rest, apparently.”

“of course he did.” jake remarks roughly, taking another hit from his joint to hopefully soothe his sudden growing annoyance. “mr. ex pro gets everything.”

“can you stop bitching? you just won against an upper rank, be happy!” heeseung groans, wrapping his arm around the girl’s shoulders to push at jake.

“ex pro?” she repeats, crossing her legs and turning on her hip to put a hand on jake’s chest; he knows she’s just giving him a window to rant in the hopes of getting in his pants, but he doesn’t even care, the alcohol and building resentment he’s had for bang chan making his lips loose.

so jake tells her everything about chan’s controversial past;

he was decently big in the boxing world, continuous wins, his attractive face, and charisma making him skyrocket in popularity. but after failing a drug test in which he tested positive for multiple drugs that fell under the physical enhancement category, he was suspended from professional boxing for a year. bang chan made a statement that the drugs were only taken at parties and never in the duration of an upcoming fight— but it was his words against social media, without any of his own proof and a few dirty dating scandals and rumors attached to it. quickly, articles and x posts were flooding in, his name dragged through the absolute mud that he ‘doped’, and his title as a successful, hard working pro was no more.

of course, a few of his fangirls are probably still sticking around— but all the viral spread died down once chan took things underground, hiding from the public eye.

“oh my god, i didn’t know that.” the girl says, genuinely shocked; jake can tell, not only from her widened eyes, but from how her suggestive rubbing over his chest stopped once he really started getting into the grit of it all.

(heeseung’s about to explode from annoyance and sexual frustration, the hot chick’s attention now completely glued to jake’s rambling and not on his dick.)

“it’s fucked,” jake continues. “he’s got this whole thing rigged to his advantage. how is it fair that he gets to fight in that shitty ring when he’s got a professional background? he gets all the money, all the glory, and all the girls! i don’t even need all that, all i want is y/n, but of course out of everyone— she’s the one he chooses to have as his arm-candy after every win— every undeserved win.”

“undeserved?” another voice speaks— which jake immediately knows isn’t heeseung, because there’s an australian accent to it, and there’s only one other aussie in this god forsaken underground, which means—

“chan!” the girl smiles, flirty attitude right back on when she sees him looming in the doorway, which jake foolishly didn’t notice was left open.

she gets up from the couch, sauntering over to chan’s other arm, while you hang off the other.

“you think my wins are undeserved?” chan all but growls, teeth visibly gritting, like he’s a rabid dog about to lunge and attack at any given moment.

heeseung’s not at all worried about getting his dick wet anymore and entirely panicking inwardly at the notion that he’s possibly about to see his friend get pummeled— which means he’s about to get pummeled too, because that’s what friends do.

and jake? well, yeah, he’d like to take a swing at chan— but in the ring, surrounded by spectators who can testify of his murder— not in a dirty room filled with smoke and most likely years worth of dna stained into the couch.

he stands, because the tense moment urges him to get up off the couch where he’s cornered. “uh— uhm, i…”

chan is walking right up to get all in jake’s face before he can even finish his stuttering, heavy breaths puffing into his face like he’s facing an angry bull.

in that small moment, jake asks himself the question of if he’d rather grovel the ground and kiss chan’s ass for forgiveness like everyone else does, or stand his ground; and call him crazy, but when his eyes break chan’s uncomfortable, challenging stare for just a moment and he meets your gaze instead, jake decides he’d rather die than kiss up to chan— ever, but especially in front of you.

“y’know what, man? yeah.” he states, surprised at himself by the strength and confidence in his voice.

veins on the side of chan’s neck bulge, his jaw tensing as his seething glare sends daggers from his eyes and right into jake’s.

“i could k.o. you in two seconds, bitch.” he spits, jake’s expression hardening as his competitiveness that got him into boxing in the first place begins to rear its head.

“wanna go, right here? think you can beat my ass in front of these pretty ladies, show them how ‘undeserving’ i am?”

“chan…” jake hears you whisper, his range of vision skewed when all he can see is chan’s flaring nostrils. “it wouldn't be a fair fight, he’s— he’s high.”

as if he’s just now noticing the smoke permeating the room or jake’s surely pinkened eyes, chan smirks and lets out a scoff, finally taking a step back.

“s’fine, i’d rather have an audience watching when i knock you out cold anyway.”

“wh— what? what do you mean? he can’t—“ heeseung starts in a panic, but jake’s already made up his mind, pissed off by chan’s threats and how he tries to belittle him in front of you.

“i’m up for that.” jake agrees. “fighting you in the ring, that is. we’ll see who wins.”

the smirk on chan’s lips only widens, like he sees jake’s blood on his hands already, hears the cheers from the crowd. “great. i’ll take it up with the matchmaker.”

and just like that, chan is gone, dragging you and the other girl with him, leaving a blue balled heeseung and jake— who’s upcoming, early death hasn’t hit him yet.

“so…” heeseung speaks up after a very long stretch of silence.

“what do you want written on your gravestone?”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

after the tense standoff chan just had to invoke, he leads you and your coworker to ‘his’ room that the owner of the underground rigged up all nice for his number one champion; the walls are covered with a fresh coat of paint— keeping in mind, they’re probably just as grime covered as the rest, and the paint color is an ugly shade of ‘shrek’s vest’ brown— but the led strip lights lining the ceiling help with the atmosphere, casting the room in their pinkish-purple glow; and of course chan asked for a large bed to put in the room, the large piece of furniture almost taking up the whole floor space.

but what’s left of the limited square footing, a couch was able to be squeezed into— and that’s where you sit, drinking the unneeded amount of alcohol chan had while dodging his advances to kiss you; you know it would turn into him wanting a threesome with you and the other ring girl, and you’re really not in the mood right now; you already fucked before his match, and after his angry little tantrum, you’re just…turned off.

you’re only lightly buzzed, but chan and your coworker don’t hold back until they’re drunk off their asses. it doesn’t take long until they’re sloppily making out in front of you, the girl moaning out as she grinds against chan’s lap.

chan doesn’t even pause the make out session as he blindly leans a hand against the coffee table, attempting to get up and carry the girl to his bed— but the action causes an empty beer bottle to fall, shards of glass bursting and glittering across the floor.

“seriously, guys?” you groan, hearing only giggles in return as chan makes a second clumsy, drunken attempt at standing up; he’s successful, but narrowly misses the sharp fragments on the floor.

“fucking shit!” you exclaim, getting up to pick the glass up yourself before one of the idiots severely hurts themselves; but you forget that you’re a little intoxicated too, and as you collect the pieces into your hand, trying your best to ignore the moans and slapping of skin coming from behind you— a delicate corner of glass slices into your palm, causing you to gasp and look down to see blood traveling quickly down your wrist.

“really.” you whisper to yourself, rolling your eyes.

you’re quick to collect the rest of the pieces, mainly because hearing chan and that girl fuck is kind of annoying, but also because you don’t really want to be dripping blood everywhere.

exiting and shutting the door of the room, you fast-walk down the hallway, down the rickety metal stairs, and past the boxing ring; reaching the main entrance hall, you drop the glass into a nearby trash can and open a closet door, knowing it contains a first aid kit.

you’ve just begun wiping the streak of blood off your forearm when you hear footsteps ringing off the metal steps of the stairs, a figure revealing themself at the end of the hall.

“oh, hello.” you say, feeling the need to keep your voice somewhat soft as it carries down the echoing hallway.

it’s that guy from earlier, the one chan called a bitch and promised to knock out cold. you don’t know his name— you don’t know most of the boxer’s names, honestly; chan likes to keep you closer to him and away from them. it was hot at first, his seeming ‘possessive’ streak; but lately it seems more like he’s possessive over you as an object, a trophy to show off his ego;

you find that a lot less sexually thrilling and much more insulting.

“hey, i uh…i was just leaving.” he says, pointing past you to the two-door entrance. “are you hurt?”

squinting his eyes thanks to the poorly lit hallway, he decides to come closer, stopping once he’s standing right beside you.

“oh, shit.”

“yeah,” you smile, somewhat awkwardly, feeling caught at being witnessed injured. but you suppose it shouldn’t be a big deal to him, he deals with injuries all the time. “got it from a beer bottle.”

“damn, those cuts suck.” he sympathizes, evidently from experience. “here, lemme see.”

taking your hand into his gently, he comes closer to assess the damage, taking the bloodied gauze from your uninjured hand and placing it on the closet shelf for the time being.

you watch as he grabs a new gauze pad from the kit— pretty, long fingers brushing the pad over your cut, soaking up the blood and cleaning it as best he can without running it over the dirty tap water or using rubbing alcohol, which would be too harsh.

he’s quite skilled in dressing your mild wound; it impresses you despite already having the thought that he’s dealt with this millions of times. the way his hand gently holds yours, his brows furrowing in concentration and plump lips pursing, the genuine care he uses as he applies antibiotic cream and wraps your hand in a bandage— it unexpectedly makes your heart…flutter.

“there we go. that feel okay?” he asks, soft accent whispered so closely to your face that it makes goosebumps rise against your skin, hoping he won’t notice it.

“yeah..” you reply just as reverently, eyes staring into each others. a long few seconds drawl of the two of you not saying anything, just..looking— until his gaze lowers to your lips, and you do the same.

the slow, sensual bite he gives to his pink bottom lip as he checks you out has your core awakening with a pulse, and just before you can let your pussy control your actions— red seeps out from a thin slit on his mouth.

“you’re— you’re bleeding.” you say somewhat urgently, the hazy look in the guy’s eyes disappearing at your warning, lifting his wrist to wipe at his lip.

“fuck. forgot about that.” he says offhandedly, looking down at the blood smear left on his hand. “it’s fine, usually just heals on its—“

he’s forced to stop talking when you raise a delicate finger to apply ointment to the cut, your heart beating faster when the plush of his bottom lip is pushed enticingly along with the gentle movements of your ministrations.

you’re only able to feel like you can breathe again when you finish and pull away, putting only a small distance between you.

“…thanks, y/n.”

he whispers— again, in that sexy ass accent that sends such a thrill down your spine; unlike chan’s, which you’re realizing doesn’t have the same effect on you anymore.

“no problem. i should be thanking you— um..”

“jake.” he supplies. “my name’s jake.”

“thank you, jake.” you smile, grateful for his kindness.

“well..uh,” he fidgets, eyes landing on the bloodied gauze before picking it up and successfully tossing it into the trash can, putting his hands inside his pockets afterward.

“i guess i should go. you don’t need a ride, do you?” jake makes sure, fully ready to offer up a seat in the uber if you do.

“no. no, i’m fine. probably just gonna go upstairs and make sure i got all the glass cleaned up before leaving.” (and that those two horny drunks haven’t created some other sort of hazard.)

“okay, but make sure you use a broom this time, yeah?”

“promise!” you smile, holding up your hands for emphasis.

jake returns the smile before walking past you and down the remainder of the hall, giving you one last glance before exiting out the door.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

“you’re a grade ‘a’ fucking idiot.” heeseung chews out jake— when he’s supposed to be spotting him on the bench press. “have you seen that man’s arms? he could pound you into a thin liquid.”

“okay, dude— when i said ‘motivate me’ during training, this isn’t really what i meant.” jake breathily growls between reps, sweat beads clinging to his neck and dripping down his bare chest.

“do you even have a plan? ‘cause it seems to me like you’re just letting your pride get ahead of you. sorry that i like you better alive and breathing.”

huffing in exhaustion and minor annoyance at having to stop in the middle of a set to comfort his friend, jake’s lips push together in a thin line as he raises and sits the barbell back on the rack, sitting up and wiping the sweat off his forehead with a nearby towel as he speaks.

“stop worrying. chan’s bigger, sure, but that’s all he relies on. i’m fast and methodical, i think things out. he doesn’t. also, there’s countless clips on the internet of his fights that i can watch and study, learn his habits and weak spots. that’s something he doesn’t have on me.”

jake can see heeseung processing his words, eyes looking off as his brows lightly furrow; jake is pretty confident that he’s convinced him.

“see? just have some faith in me, bro.” the younger smiles, winding up the towel in his hands before whipping it to crack on heeseung’s thigh— but he reacts quickly and grabs the white material by its end, slicing it through the air to hit a cowering jake on his back.

he tuts teasingly afterward, wagging a finger as he grins. “see that? that was loser shit. work on that.”

“shut the fuck up,” jake laughs, getting up from the bench; his smile morphs into a wince as he slowly stands on his feet, moving a hand to his back.

“damn, maybe i didn’t warm up enough.”

“ah man, i don’t think doc’s in today.” heeseung says, ‘doc’ being the very sketchy, definitely not licensed massage therapist for the underground. but he’s a nice guy, or at least jake thinks he is. he’s not gonna go searching for his public records online though, in case it would change his opinion. he’d rather be ignorant. (besides the issue that he doesn’t even know his actual first name.)

“want me to get the massage roller?”

jake nods at heeseung’s offer, rotating one arm while trying to get rid of the ache in his shoulders.

heeseung opens the closet door of the workout room, moving around random equipment for a while before letting out an annoyed sigh.

“s’ not here. someone probably brought it up to a room and didn’t put it back. i’ll go look for it.”

“thanks, bro.” jake nods, heeseung repeating the action in return before walking out of the room.

walking over to lay on his stomach over the massage table, jake groans at his stiff muscles, feeling the aftermath of how hard he’s been pushing himself to train for the upcoming fight with bang chan; he’s…slightly nervous, despite his outward nonchalance around heeseung— but he also finds himself rather confident, oddly enough; because jake knows when he gets inside that ring, he’s gonna give it 100%, and whether he wins or fails, he’ll be proud of himself. (and who knows, maybe the crowd will see and appreciate that too— either that or they’ll point and laugh and jake will be the butt of every joke for a few weeks, but he can live with that.)

jake’s just taken a slow inhale in an attempt to ease the ache of his back and ab muscles when he feels hands on his shoulders, working the stiffness there with firm rubs.

“ah, fuck.” jake groans, eyes squeezing shut at the somewhat pleasurable pain.

the heel of the two hands lean forward, applying deep pressure against either side of his back before going slowly down to the dip of his spine.

“shit, heeseung. when’d you get so good at this? usually you’re kinda shit at it.”

“maybe it’s better because i’m not heeseung.” a voice speaks, jake’s eyes flying wide open as he’d recognize that sultry tone anywhere.

“y— y/n? what are you doing here?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows and somewhat forcing you to pause your ministrations as his posture has changed.

“i work here?” you cock a brow with an amused smile— and, fuck, why do you have to look so sexy when you do that. “there’s gonna be a few fights tonight.”

“oh, right. well, y— you don’t have to—“

“lie down, jake. i’m telling you, my hands can work some magic.”

(oh, he has no doubt they can— but he’d rather them work some magic on his cock, not his back.)

“okay, okay.” he says instead, giving in and laying back down, turning his head to the side.

your hands spread open as you work down jake’s sides again, fingers barely curving over his waist and feeling the ripples of his abs. jake tries to contain a low groan.

“so, i actually wanted to talk to you about something.” you start, and jake swears your voice drips with suggestiveness, but he can’t be sure if that’s true or if your fingers feathering over his hard muscles are just making him think with his dick.

“yeah?” he asks, but unbeknownst to him, the rough texture of his voice as you hit a tender spot on his back has your thighs wanting to clench; jake’s skin is glistening with sweat, highlighted by the room’s lights and dripping over the hills and valleys of his hard earned muscles; every time your fingers feather over the edges of his abs, your heart beats a little faster, and his low resting sweatpants are just as distracting.

still, you try to keep your tone collected with just a subtle underline of teasing.

“i heard what you said in the warm up room, right before chan interrupted.”

how the fuck can you expect jake to recall anything when your soft hands are feeling up his back? his teeth are about to pierce his bottom lip with how hard he bites it, trying to contain the ungodly sounds that want to escape— but when your hands make their way to the nape of his neck, kneading the flesh before curling around the dark tendrils of his hair and lightly scratching through his scalp, just once— he doesn’t care to try and cover up the breathy growl he lets out, because now he’s sure that you’re purposely teasing him.

jake’s eyes open just as you remove your fingers from his scalp, moving them back down to his lats like nothing happened, yet you feel like prey that’s just been caught by a predator with the way jake so unabashedly stares at you, big brown eyes now dark and calculating. you must have a look that gives way to your inward surprise at the sudden switch of power, because jake’s lips raise into a smirk that looks absolutely ravenous.

“and what was that, y/n?” he drawls lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“um..th— that,” your gumption has all but been sucked out of you, along with the air in your lungs; the room is thick with tension, and it’s enough to have your brain foggy and words slow to produce on your tongue.

“c’mon, love.” jake croons with a sharp smile, like a wolf luring a rabbit into its open jaws, gleaming teeth and all; and you walk willingly into the trap, letting jake cup your jaw and lead you closer by it.

you’re reminded that jake is a boxer: dangerous, lethal and cunning. as you stand before him with his eyes drinking in your body in your tiny uniform— thin, red spandex sports bra doing nothing to hide your tits, shorts hugging every curve and crevice of your ass— making you feel small and vulnerable, you wonder if this is any comparable to how his opponents feel in the ring. you desperately regret not watching his matches, imagining how much hotter he must look when he’s all worked up over a fight, eyes angry and aggressive as he throws punches, sweat clinging to his muscles and dripping down the curve of his adam’s apple— maybe even a bit of blood coloring his pretty face, he looked so fucking sexy with that split lip—

“tell me what you came in here to say, hm?” jake encourages again, pulling you back to reality— the reality that his veiny hands are applying light pressure to your jaw, looking up at you with a hungry gaze.

“you said that..that all you want is…me?” you manage out sheepishly, cheeks burning; jake’s smirk only deepens at your sudden meekness.

“yeah, that’s right, baby. i want you. so fuckin’ bad.”

your blood feels like fire running through your veins, jake’s words setting your body into flames, wanting to let it— him, consume you.

you bite your bottom lip and jake’s eyes immediately follow the movement.

“well, if you win the fight…” you pause, a bit of your usual playfulness coming back as seduction coats your tongue. “i’ll be more than just your arm-candy for the night.”

jake huffs under his breath in disbelief, lightly shaking his head. “you’re such a tease, aren’t you?”

you flash him a dirty little smile before the rough padding of his fingers suddenly pinch your ass, pulling a small noise of surprise from your lips that has jake chuckling, cockiness dripping off his tone.

the familiar, obnoxious sound of footsteps clanging against the metal steps of the stairs has your lax body stiffening, jake’s hold on your jaw tightening before letting go all together.

“heeseung,” he mumbles, looking at the open archway of the workout room; you’re not sure if it’s said to you or himself, but you’re slipping away from the loose hold his arm has around your hips and sneaking hurriedly out of the room and down a darkened hall before the other man can spot you.

“i could only find the smaller one, so—“

heeseung pauses, hand held massage roller in his hold as he stares at jake, who is laying down on the table: sweaty, lightly panting, and…hard.

“um, hate to break it to you, bro, but i am not willing to give you a happy ending massage. i don’t care how stressed you are.”

“hee, shut the fuck up!” jake shouts, thoroughly embarrassed and kind of annoyed as he gets up from the table to grab his sweat towel and cover the bulge in his sweatpants with it. “i don’t want you to!”

“well what am i supposed to think when i walk in here and you look straight from a porno!?”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

your heart beats just a bit faster than usual and your focus is never fully engaged as you do your job, announcing rounds and keeping the crowd engaged in between each bout— because you know with each punch that’s thrown, every win and subsequent loss, it’s getting closer to chan and jake’s fight; and no matter how much you want to believe in him, how much you do, you can’t shake the nervousness that clings to your bones.

it’s just about time; you can feel the energy surging from the direction of the bleachers, electricity sparking in the air that sends goosebumps across your flesh and an uneasiness in your stomach. the spectating crowd sounds almost as bloodthirsty as chan looks as you watch him come out from the sidelines, everyone cheering and hollering when they see him, anticipating the fight between a reigning champion and quickly improving— yet somewhat unknown rookie.

from the opposite end of the arena, you see jake emerge with heeseung standing close by his side; they share a look, the older gives an encouraging few pats to his shoulder, and then jake is walking forward to meet you— the girl who quite literally is standing right in the middle of this whole ordeal.

“hey,” he smirks, all charming and sexy as his eyes sparkle at you.

you do your best to smile back, but somehow he already knows your expressions well enough to see that something’s off.

“hey, what’s wrong?” jake asks, brows immediately furrowing in concern as he takes a step closer, the space between your bodies almost disappearing entirely as his white wrapped hands raise to hold your face, calloused thumbs brushing over your cheeks soothingly.

“i’m..i’m just nervous…don’t want you to get hurt.” you confess in a whisper. “it’s not that i think you can’t win, it’s just that i—…i care about you.”

the last sentence uttered makes heat rush to your face, hands raising to hold onto jake’s forearms for further reassurance as you shyly look up from the floor to his eyes.

jake’s gaze only makes you want to squirm more under his attention— that dark, hungry look that you’re dying to become more familiar with glazing over his orbs and causing his eyelids to lower in that way that makes you feel small and helpless and so good— good enough for you to feel your panties start to dampen.

“don’t worry about me, baby.” jake begins, voice dropping in volume and deepness as your skin begins tingling— not in anxiety this time, but in arousal.

he leans closer to the side of your face, until you can feel his plump lips against the shell of your ear, intentionally grazing them from the top and slowly all the way down, hot breath ghosting over your skin as he whispers.

“just worry about that pussy, cus’ i’m gonna absolutely wreck it after i win this fight.”

your lips part for a small intake of air, lightly gasped as jake bites down on your lobe before pulling away to stare into your eyes. you’re about to say something back when another voice coming from behind you breaks the moment.

“you must have some huge balls, sim, thinking you can come into my ring and not get the ass beating of your fucking life.” chan gloats, glare burning into jake’s skull before his eyes drop to his hands, which still rest on your body; you know the reason his lips twist in disgust is because of his ego, pissed at the thought of a rookie taking away his favorite little plaything.

“yeah, i do have huge balls—“ jake begins. “to go with my huge dick.”

the surprised laugh you were struggling to hold back at the beginning of his sentence instantly vanishes by the end of it, your eyes going wide at the man’s confident claims as your previous nerves have all but disappeared thanks to his sweet and sultry words of comfort, now replaced by poorly contained lust.

“just ask y/n after tonight.” jake winks at you, chan looking as though he’s about to boil over with rage.

“the fuck you mean—“

“get your mouthguard on, it’s starting!” heeseung appears out of nowhere, said item in his hand as he hurries to help jake put it on. as if on cue, the loud voice of the announcer echoes through the speakers, you turning your head to see the man standing in the middle of the ring with his mic raised to his lips.

with one last look, jake turns his back to you and hops over the ropes of the ring, going to stand at his designated corner while chan does the same.

the lights of the arena go low, the brightest spotlight shining on the boxers as the announcer finishes his introductions and the referee gestures for you to follow him into the ring. you grab your sign, holding the board up high that signifies the starting of round one as you saunter to each side of the ring. multiple eyes stare at your body, the way you pop your hip out every time you wave the sign; a few high whistles and hoots come from the crowd— but all you care about is jake’s stare, which stays on you even as the referee has him and chan standing in the middle of the ring, quickly going over the rules.

you hop out of the ring right as the referee has the two boxer’s bump fists, chan giving a cold stare to jake that screams he does it out of obligation and far from friendly competition.

when that familiar ding of the bell rings and the fight officially starts, the atmosphere turns tense and electric once again.

chan’s the first to initiate, because he always is— but jake doesn’t back down, facing the champion with his fists raised and eyes focused, piercing and ready for whatever the other will throw at him.

it’s fast paced and aggressive from the start, there’s no warming up or taking things slow; punches are thrown and the both of them are going at each other without a moment in between. so far, neither has gotten a direct hit in that hasn’t been blocked by the other— until jake goes for a lower jab, catching chan off guard as he delivers a powerful punch to his gut.

you gasp, the crowd reacting similarly as jake takes a step back to anticipate chan’s next move— but that proves to be a mistake, the ex pro not even taking a moment to recover from the hit before landing a punch right across jake’s cheek.

that’s when all hell breaks loose.

each minute seems to drag for an eternity, the final 12th round seeming like an unreachable number as both men reign down what seems like an equal amount of hits on each other, yet jake seems to bleed more as chan continually goes for a head shot; blood stains the corner of his mouth, a bruised cut forms at the side of his temple— and yet you can help but find it so fucking hot; jake doesn’t even look thrown or concerned at all. clear confidence is shown through his body language and with every move he makes, which are tactical and intelligently thought out, while also being quick. chan just throws his punches around carelessly, like an angry bull with no other thoughts than aggression and greed.

it’s clear no one can tell who’s going to win, which is an occurrence that’s never happened before during one of chan’s matches. everyone is on the edge of their seat and you’re holding your breath, waiting for the bell to ding one last time and a winner to be announced.

the eleventh round ends and jake returns to his corner for the minute long rest period. you take the chance to run up to his side, leaning against the ring’s ropes as heeseung slips between them with a towel and bottle of water that he hands to jake.

“since when are you a fucking bleeder, why are you bleeding so much?” heeseung questions sternly, though you can tell it’s just out of concern for his friend.

jake takes a swig of water, swallowing it down as you try not to stare at how his adam’s apple bobs with the action, his neck beaded with pearls of sweat. “i don’t know, man. his punches are just— so fucking hard. but i'm doing good, just gotta get a good enough hit in for the judges to vote for me.”

“you better.” heeseung growls, dabbing up the trickle of blood that makes its slow way down jake’s forehead. “the last thing we want is a tie, and if you don’t pull through now, that’s what it’s gonna be—“

“jake,” you interrupt heeseung’s nagging, the boxer turning his head to meet your eyes; jake’s chest glistens in sweat beneath the bright lights, firm pecs even more accentuated by them— while his split lip raises in another slow smirk— and you have to try and keep your mouth from watering, because why the fuck are you finding the blood on his mouth and perspiring muscles so hot and not incredibly concerning? you’re supposed to feel worried right now, not like you need to be held back from jumping his bones in front of the whole audience.

before your stupid, horny brain can come up with any words of encouragement— the bell rings again, realizing you forgot to even carry around the sign announcing the final round as jake squares up and heeseung ducks out of the ring.

jake leans to press one quick peck to your unsuspecting lips, chuckling at your dumbfounded look and winking at you.

“for good luck.” he simply states, and then heeseung is pulling you away from the ropes for your own safety—

but not before you’re close enough to hear the taunt that jake throws chan’s way.

“c’mon, bang. said you’d knock me out cold, didn’t you, mate?”

you swear you see chan’s eyes flash red, a guttural shout of frustration and adrenaline tearing through his throat as he lunges at jake.

jake reacts— not in the way anyone is expecting, because he dodges chan’s advancement…and then he dodges it again. the crowd— everyone is confused. the fight has been a rather confrontational one throughout its duration so far, so why does it seem jake is running away from chan now?

with each punch and lunge that jake swerves and avoids, chan becomes more and more visibly angry, the boxing ring turning into a dance floor of sidesteps and ducking.

“what the fuck are you doing, man!?” heeseung shouts by your side. “times almost out!”

at heeseung’s words, your heart stops, raising your head to look up at one of the shitty screens that’s hung off the balcony’s railing.

thirty seconds.

jake has thirty seconds before the match is over— and with the avoidant tactics he’s used for all of this round, you’ve watched enough fights to know that the judges won’t be voting him as the winner.

the crowd starts to chant: chan’s name, jake’s name, or along with each number as the timer counts down. the noises mix all together until you feel as though you’re sinking underwater— and all you can hear is your own heavy breaths and beating heart.

“jake…” you whisper to yourself, too quiet for anyone to hear, nevertheless the man himself. “what are you doing?”

but then, unlike the other times jake has dodged chan, this time he turns on his heel in the last moment, facing the side of chan’s head as the other doesn’t realize he’s in a vulnerable position. jake reigns down punches like never before, going in as hard and fast as he can while chan moves to face jake and get out of the vulnerable spot he was in— but it doesn’t matter; chan’s concentration and aggression looks to be thrown off as he wasn’t expecting jake’s sudden switch in tactic; with each punch that jake sends to his skull, chan fails to properly block every one— until he stumbles and falls to the ring floor.

the crowd erupts, and so do you and heeseung, the both of you staring with wide eyes as the referee hurries to crouch by chan’s side; he yells loud enough for everyone to hear, counting to ten before his hands raise above his head in an ‘x’, and the announcer’s voice rings loudly through the speakers.

“that is it! a clean, k.o. victory!”

staff immediately flood the ring, and everyone’s ecstatic. judges congratulate jake, heeseung squeezes in to pat him on the back and take his mouthguard and check on him, and someone is talking to a dazed chan.

“jake!” you call, a wide smile on your face as you run up to cling onto the ropes again, the crowd too boisterous and crowded for you to insert yourself into the ring. but as always— jake would know your voice anywhere.

he locks eyes with you through the crowd, pushing through until he’s close enough to reach out towards you; the next thing you know, you’re being lifted by his arms, up and over the rope barrier before being hugged into his chest and spun around.

“you did it!” you squeal happily between laughing. “you won!”

“told you you didn’t need to worry about me.” jake smiles as his spinning comes to a stop, resting you on your feet gently.

you can’t help but reflect his expression, arms raising to wrap around the back of his neck, about to kiss him— but just over the view of jake’s shoulder, you see a looming, unsteady form pushing roughly through the crowd—

and then you catch the glimpse of those dark eyes again, so angry they almost glow red.

“j— jake!” you try to warn, pointing to the quickly approaching chan behind him, who’s already pulling his arm back like he’s going to punch jake in the back of the head.

you’re still in jake’s arms as he turns, one hand lifting to block chan’s fist just before it cracks into his skull. chan’s wrapped knuckles land on jake’s palm as he curls his fingers around chan’s hand to keep him from attempting to advance further, everyone falling into a hush at the scene—

and that’s when you see it;

crumbled pieces of a light gray substance begin to fall out from chan’s busted hand wraps, your eyes widening as jake watches with bewilderment at the small chunks that fall against the floor.

“is that…” jake mumbles, shock evident on his face before he roughly tugs chan’s fist down from being raised in the air, ripping the gauze of his hand wrap further open; there, in between the layers of gauze is a thin coating of plaster, just enough to harden some of the gauze and make for a stronger hit.

“it’s fucking plaster!” heeseung yells, having walked up while jake was inspecting chan’s gloves. “no wonder jake was bleeding more than usual.”

heeseung looks ready to beat chan to a pulp himself, but luckily a few men move to stand between the two, a few trying to calm heeseung down while the others carry a woozy chan out of the arena completely.

“hee, bro, don’t even worry about it. i’m completely fine, and i won! pulled through for you, didn’t i?” jakes smiles care freely, one hand going to his friend’s shoulder while the other remains on your waist.

heeseung takes a second to process the moment, looking at jake’s happy expression and the way you gaze at him proudly.

“yeah…yeah, you did, man. i’m proud of you.”

“thanks, hee.” jake’s smile slowly turns into a smirk. “we can decide how we’ll blow the prize money later, yeah?”

he leans down, nose nudging into your hair as he whispers in your ear, low enough for only you to hear. your heart beats faster again, the thrum between your legs returning.

“because i believe a certain little ring girl made a promise to me for tonight. right, baby?”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

jake’s pressing his strong, bare chest against you the whole way up the metal stairs, hands all over your body and lips on your neck as if he can’t wait another moment.

he’s guiding you towards the direction of the room he usually smokes in, but you stop him, turning around to face him with a hand pressed to his chest (which you do to try and bring him a bit back down to earth, but it only proves to distract you with how firm his muscles are underneath your fingertips).

“ch— chan’s room, we should use chan’s room. it has a bed.” you struggle to say, almost enough to be embarrassed with how you’re already practically panting— if it weren’t for how badly you want him.

“okay, yeah. show me where it is.” jake rumbles, voice throaty and possibly sounding even more affected than yours.

you grab his hand and lead him down a hall, not taking long before you stop in front of a door.

“this it?” jake asks, and the moment you give a responding ‘yes’ he’s pushing you up against the door, lips sloppily working over yours and impatient tongue slipping inside your mouth while you can hear his hand fiddling to turn the doorknob.

“fuck, been imagining how your lips taste for so long.” he groans hotly against your skin, causing your stomach and pussy to flutter with how desperate jake sounds, thighs clenching at the thought of him fantasizing about you.

“yeah?” you breathe just as the door clicks open, jake’s arm wrapping around your waist as he backs you into the room, not even bothering to look behind him as he slams the door shut; your bodies are instantly bathed in a magenta glow from the strip lights, the highs and lows of jake’s jawline and muscles accentuated as he devours you with his eyes— the same thing you’re doing to him.

“yeah, been imagining you in a lot of ways..” he remarks darkly, almost to himself as he takes slow steps towards you, making you feel like stalked prey in the best way as you let him back you up, closer and closer to the bed.

“what kind of ways?” you question, tone soft yet underlying challenging, asking for it.

“too many ways to show you in one night, but i’ll try anyway.” jake smirks, all sharp and hungry; a tingle runs down your spine before your calves hit the frame of the bed, falling onto the comforter with a gasp as jake looms right above you, eyes raking over your body once again.

“have i ever told you how much i love you in this uniform, these tiny, sorry excuse for shorts?”

his knee digs into the mattress, positioning himself to cage you below him. one finger slips beneath the band of your shorts, pulling it back and letting go so it will snap against your skin; he chuckles at your light flinch in reaction, the way your thighs squeeze together again as the sting makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“j— jake, don’t you think you should rest a little first, have a drink of water? you just finished an hour long fight.” you worry; you may be incredibly horny and desperately want him to fuck you into the mattress until there’s an imprint of your bodies left, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still concerned for his well-being.

“the only thing i wanna drink is in between these thighs.” the man dismisses easily, lowering himself until he’s laying on his stomach and your bent legs are framing his head; he grips them firmly, pressing his face against your clothed pussy before breathing in deeply.

“jake!” your face burns, almost sounding scolding at the way he so shamelessly breathes in the smell of your cunt, animalistic and gross; but you like it, and the last thing you want is for him to stop.

“fuck,” he sighs, the air of it brushing against your inner thighs and leaving goosebumps.

jake sits up on his knees, unfastening the velcro strap of one hand wrap before working on removing it so he can properly touch and feel your skin against his palms. it’s almost inhuman how hot he looks— above you with brows furrowed in concentration, muscles flexing without even trying as he unwraps the gauze, pronounced veins trailing down his forearms and hands; then you notice the bulge in his loose fitting boxer shorts— and its big, reminding you of his earlier implications of being ‘huge’ down there. (not that you needed a reminder. how could you ever forget?)

jake’s huff pulls you back to reality, looking up from his crotch to see a cocky, shit-eating grin on his face, realizing you’ve been caught staring at his covered dick.

“like what you see?” he teases— and as if that isn’t enough to make you simmer in hot embarrassment, he makes it worse when he raises his other still-wrapped hand to his mouth, taking the velcro strap of it in between his teeth before ripping it open.

oh, fuck him.

“did you seriously get hard just from smelling my pussy? that’s pretty pathetic, jake.” you bite back, a sassy spark in your eyes.

the second hand wrap is tossed to the floor just like the first one, jake lowering again to brace himself against his elbows on either side of your head as he stares into your eyes.

“oh, baby, i was hard the moment i walked into the arena and saw you.” he confidently admits, hand creeping up your neck to grip your jaw; his fingers are gentle against the bone, a soft flutter in your stomach turning into a burst of arousal when jake’s gaze suddenly hardens, holding you roughly in his hand.

“but call me pathetic one more time and i won't even fill that pussy. i’ll fuck into your folds until i bust and cover you in my cum but you’ll never get my big cock stretching your little hole unless you act like a good girl. got it?”

“y— yes, jake. m’sorry.” you whimper.

he seems to accept your apology, pressing another wet kiss to your lips before telling you to strip.

your eagerness shows as you quickly take off your shorts and sports bra, noticing how closely jake stares at the thong you’re wearing but resisting the small urge you have to tease him and peel them off slowly.

he settles between your legs again once you’re completely bare, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he unabashedly stares at your pussy.

“tried to make fun of me getting hard when you’re this wet? why, baby? tell me what’s got you this worked up.” he demands, breath ghosting over your clit, full lips so close to where you need them— yet he doesn’t move, thumbs making little circles against your inner thighs but never edging any closer.

“liked..liked seeing you fight, looked so hot.”

“really?” he laughs, almost in amused disbelief as he shakes his head. “you like seeing me all sweaty and bloody? is that what you mean?”

you’re eyes squeeze shut as you nod your head, so ashamed yet unable to keep from staring at jake laying between your thighs for too long.

“yes.” you manage to verbally answer, looking for mercy, trying to conjure it from the man with a needy tone and begging eyes.

“that’s nasty, y/n.” jake demeans, but his tongue graces through your folds with one firm, flattened lick. “starting to make me think you’re as dirty as i am.”

you gasp when he finally stops teasing and properly mouths at your pussy with his lips, savoring the taste of your wetness on his tongue and replacing it with his spit. he softly sighs in satisfaction at your flavor, using two fingers in the form of a peace sign to spread your lower lips further open. you fail to contain the way your body starts to lightly squirm, hands beginning to pull at the sheets as jake spreading you open exposes your warm center to the air— and it's only made worse when he blows teasingly against your clit, smirking at your responding whine before sucking it into his mouth.

“oh, fffuck.”

jake hums at your pretty voice compromised by pleasure, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before delving back down to your leaking hole.

“feels good, baby?” he asks, but you’re unable to answer as he presses three fingers in between your glistening folds, getting them all slicked up.

“jake?” you shakily ask, anticipating what you hope is coming, entrance pulsing in impatience and need.

“gotta get you nice n’ stretched for my cock, don’t i, baby? promise you, i’m bigger than what you’re used to.” jake answers, your brain clouding over with dirty lust at the subtly petty words he says— like he’s a little jealous over the meaningless arrangement you and chan had. had; because he’ll never get to have you again— and after jake, you have a feeling you won’t want to give it to anyone else.

a moan breaks through your throat when jake pushes one long finger inside your cunt, mouth going back down to lick and suck at your flesh.

jake’s ‘under control’ persona starts to slip, eyes fallen shut and heavy breaths turning into drawn out, deep sighs as he gets lost in the taste, warmth, and wetness of your pussy; his finger fluidly moves in and out of you, a second appendage joining it when jake feels your walls greedily suck and squeeze around them tightly, in need of more. a small but growing pressure develops in the middle of your pelvis, trying to will your parted mouth closed by biting your bottom lip, moans and sighs consistently spilling from them.

jake groans against your clit, the vibrations along with his watering mouth and swirling tongue stimulating you further as the man starts to grind his hips into the mattress, hard and throbbing just from your pussy in his mouth.

when the third finger is pushed past your entrance your expression crumbles in pleasure, the delicious stretch of his thick fingers only a taste of what’s to come when he finally gives you his cock. your hands turn frantic, the sheets not enough to fold onto anymore as they unconsciously move to pull at jake’s fluffy head of hair, pushing him further into your pussy as your hips begin to move in waves against his suckling lips and pistoning fingers.

“shit— that’s right, pull my hair.” jake growls, speaking quickly and in mumbles as he can’t even seem to bear being apart from your cunt for long, unless to mumble dirty words against your clit.

“god, you look like such a slut, riding my fingers like that.”

the pressure inside of you grows and grows, jake’s fingers curving perfectly, as if he’s quite literally coaxing your climax out of you with encouraging little movements. your own pants, jake’s heavy intakes of breaths through his nose as he remains attached to your pussy, and the creaking of the bed from the desperate grinding of your own hips as well as jake’s— it’s all so good, too good.

“i— i’m..please, need to—“ you attempt, words so much harder when jake’s fingers in your pussy seems to jumble up all the thoughts in your mind.

“do it. cum in my mouth.” he grants, and it’s like his words are now you’re new law; immediately you’re spilling over with a cry, wet slurps of jake drinking up all that you give him and your own pounding heartbeat the only thing you can hear anymore as your eyes squeeze shut, magenta light glowing past your eyelids.

you’re still panting like a pornstar by the time jake forces himself off of your cunt, detaching his lips from your sensitive clit with a thick string of saliva that breaks as he sits up, hurrying to take off his shorts and jerk off his cock in his hand.

and yes, he wasn’t lying; it is, in fact, fucking huge— not to mention pulsing with need from his humping against the mattress and dripping with precum.

“c’mere, baby, c’mere. put it in your mouth.” he urges, clearly on the brink of his own high as he moves to sit beside your head, fisting his cock viciously in his bunched fist. you sit up on your elbows and turn your face to take him in your mouth, jake’s hand tangling messily in your hair to guide you; you relax your throat as best as you can, finding your air supply short as you haven’t even caught your own breath yet— but the feeling of jake’s slick shaft gliding past your lips, pushing you roughly down to his hilt as your nose squishes against his pelvis— you love it all, and so you find yourself enjoying the slightly dizzying effect of choking on jake’s big cock.

“yeah, that’s right.” jake pants, veined knuckles turning white with how tightly he clenches his fingers, hardly even needing to push your head down as you gain a rhythm, bouncing your willing little mouth up and down his thick shaft.

you take a risk and resist the guiding motions of his hands in your hair, moving up to his tip to give it a little extra attention, suctioning your lips around it and swirling your tongue while looking up at him with the prettiest gaze you can manage.

“fffuck— nasty bitch. you’re gonna make me cum.”

you whine in response— and it’s absolutely pornograghic, but you don’t care; you want him to fill your mouth so bad.

jake starts thrusting into your drooling mouth with animalistic grunts, both hands now in your hair as he uses you just how he wants you. your face is being fucked, you’ve just learned that jake’s a ‘head pusher’, and that you love sucking on his fat cock just as much as he loves to eat your pussy.

maybe you died and made it to hell— because heaven could never be this nasty.

“close— cumming!” jake warns, and then his cock is pumping his load onto your tongue, filling your mouth and down your eager throat.

“good girl, goood fuckin’ girl, y/n.”

once jake has let you swallow it all down, he pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, you making sure to turn the licking of your lips into a show as you savor his cum.

jake laughs breathlessly, brushing some of the hair out of your eyes. “yeah, you’re definitely nasty, baby.”

“fuck me!” you whine, rocking your body side to side like a brat— but really you’re just trying to entice him with the way your boobs sway along with the movement.

“hold on.” jake says, like he’s in just as much of a hurry to be inside of you as you want him.

he leans towards the nightstand at the side of the bed, opening a drawer and trifling around for something with his hand.

“this guy’s gotta have condoms in here.” he mumbles to himself.

“no! m’ on the pill, just fuck me raw,” you pout, laying it on thick when jake raises his head from looking down into the drawer to gawk at you.

“i think i just fell in love.” he breathes, making you beg further as you’re too horny to even joke around right now.

“please, jake!”

“okay, okay. fuck, so whiny when you want cock, huh?”

“not want. need.” you correct, a little bit of shame coming back to you as your cheeks burn with heat— but you’re sure that will all disappear again the moment his cock breeches past your entrance.

“flip over then.” jake orders gently, tapping your hip.

“prop up on your knees…yeah, that’s it, baby.” he praises, butterflies erupting in your tummy as you arch your back for him, getting a whispered expletive and groping hand on your ass in response.

jake positions himself behind you, running his tip up and down your wet folds as if he really needs more lubricant when you’re both so gross and horny.

“sure you want it raw?” jake stalls, teasing.

you practically scream in frustration.

“yes, jake! god— how fucking hard is it for you to just—“

his cock slamming inside of you in one go is plenty enough to shut you up, feeling as though he’s deep enough to be prodding into your guts.

“don’t get snippy at me, slut. you got what you wanted, yeah? this big dick inside your nasty cunt, now stop being a brat and fucking take it.”

the sounds that barely squeeze out from your tight throat come from deep within your chest, jake’s hand squeezing firmly around the back of your neck to keep your body steady as he pounds into you from behind.

he’s rock solid despite already cumming once, hard cock forcing your walls to accept him in as he molds you to his shape.

you’re already quivering, pathetic and drooly and loud as your sensitive pussy is overwhelmed by how good it feels to be fucked by jake.

despite your better judgment to try your best to reel yourself in and make it last— you’re rocking back against him, hips bouncing off his pelvis as he watches what you’re doing, hands moving to feel the way your skin ricochets off the slam of his thrusts.

“hell yeah, baby. fuck back on it.” jake grits through his teeth.

at some point, as if the boxer couldn’t fuck you any better— he does; his hands push at the small of your back, curving your spine deeper as your hips tilt to a different angle. the breath feels knocked out of you the next time his hips roll against your ass, cock reaching your g-spot and making your toes curl and mouth open in a broken cry.

“jake— jake, jake!” you repeat like a mantra, and jake is so glad how wrong he was— how wrong he was to think that he’d never hear you screaming his name or feel your hips and the way your pussy grips around his cock; you sound better than he could ever have imagined, and feel an infinity times better than his hand.

everything’s wet: jake’s cock shlicking in and out of your hole, your pussy that practically splashes onto his balls with every slap— so jake isn’t surprised when you start begging.

“f— feel it, m’ about to cum. please, please let me.”

“think i found your sweet spot, didn’t i, baby?” jake asks rhetorically, chuckling airily at the way you’re full-body trembling.

you turn your head against the pillow, hair a mess, drool sticking to the corners of your glossy lips, and eyes sparkling with tears of pure need; you look like an absolute cock drunk wreck, and jake’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head from how sexy you are.

“need it so bad, jake. please. gonna— c— can’t do it,” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth as all your energy seems to have been put into not cumming.

jake’s fingers run up your spine, and if you weren’t so out of it, you’d notice how shaky his own touch is.

“go ahead, baby. i’ll give you another nice big load inside this pussy after, okay?”

“yes, yes!” you cry, not resisting your bodily urges the next time his tip bruises into your g-spot.

your body melts into the mattress and you feel as though you’re not in your full body as you reach climax; you can’t feel anything other than the raw pleasure that jake gives you— you’re just a hole, you’re just a pussy for his cock to fuck and use, and you’re just the rush of juices spilling out from your hole, creaming all over jake and your own legs, staining the sheets.

“that’s it, oh shhhit. good girl, keep fucking going. come on.” jake coos, thumb sneaking down to rub at your clit as you continue to squirt— and he wants to wring absolutely every drop out of you.

“j— jakey, s— sensitive. hurts.”

“i know, baby. i know. just gonna give you my cum, okay? you want it, don’t you?” jake coos, sweet yet degrading, like he’s talking to a puppy.

“yes, wan’ it! cum in me, jake!”

“shit, you got it, baby. you got it.” he growls, fingers never stopping the circles they rub into your clit as his hips flinch in rhythm, pressing deeper and slower into you as he finally releases with a drawn out, throaty moan.

this time when your eyes close, they roll to the back of your head, seeing white instead of magenta as the feeling of jake’s warm cum filling your fucked-raw pussy has you reaching another high.

you gush around jake’s cock, less than the first time but still plenty enough to have him in shock and so, so turned on.

when you come back down to earth, jake is holding you against his chest, fingers rubbing up and down your arm soothingly.

“hey, baby. you back now?” he asks gently, voice caring and soft.

“not quite,” you joke tiredly, yet you feel absolutely amazing. “but almost.”

“yeah, id imagine squirting a waterfall will do that to you.” jake giggles.

“okay, fuck you. you already won the match, reigning champ. do you gotta brag about that too?” you playfully roll your eyes, leaning more into his side despite your mock annoyance.

“yeah. i do, actually.” jake answers matter-of-factly, not mentioning how much he likes you calling him ‘reigning champ’— because he has a feeling if he did, you wouldn’t be so willing to say it again.

you fondly sigh, letting the man pull you closer against him as you take a moment to rest in the moment of silence.

the usual distant sound of people downstairs is too faint to hear, making you wonder how long you were going at it for. your eyes roam around the room, thinking of how chan has hardly any personal items in the space other than furniture and leftover beer bottles or glasses.

“think they’ll let chan fight in the ring again after he cheated?” you ask curiously.

“the owners probably don’t give a shit, but i’d be surprised if chan even shows his face here again after tonight. the crowd would probably beat him up before i could even get to him.” jake answers.

“guess that means this room is yours now, huh?” you smile— which turns into a laugh as you watch jake’s expression turns to surprised realization.

“oh, yeah…yeah! sweet!” he beams, turning to his side as well to face you more directly; you’re caught off guard by how…cute he looks like this, hair a little tousled with ridiculously fluffy bedhead, eyes sparkling and round with excitement. you already knew he was cute, but now he almost resembles a puppy, and you’re reminded that there’s so many sides to jake you haven’t even gotten to know yet, and you’re eager to explore them.

“hey, y’know what we should do?” jake begins playfully.

“what?” you giggle, unable to resist how infectious he is.

“commemorate the room by going twelve rounds.”

that shit-eating grin is back, and you’re half purely terrified while the other half is terrified at how your pussy thrums with interest again— so easily.

“are you fucking kidding me, jake?”

“it’s not a proper fight unless there’s twelve rounds or someone k.o.’s!”

“we had sex, not a fight. and my soul practically left my body earlier, i think that counts as a k.o.!”

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