[anakins-girl]

[cicadarequiem]

SEX ON THE LINE ────enhypen OT7

𝑺𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ✶ when you’re scouted to work for hotline 1OO9–a sex phone line—you don’t have much of a choice, rent is due and you’re jobless. But without any background or skills, you’re slowly loosing control. Surely your nice colleagues can teach you their ways, right? ✶ minors do not interact ⸝⸝

☏ 1 - 9OO - 99O DIRTY TALK

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: enhypen x 𝒇. reader 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : porn with plot, smut, reverse harem. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : phone sex operators (sex workers), gang bang (not all 7), two people sex, oral, handjob, cockwarming, dom/sub dynamics, switch reader, phone sex, lots of dirty talk, protected and unprotected sex, fxf (with a client, just talk), mxm (heejake) degradation, praising, exhibitionism, voyeurism, reader listens to Riki on the phone with a client, they all just horny as fuck, alcohol, clubbing, consent 𝐰𝐜 : ( 20𝑘 ) not proofread

“Ain’t no way. I thought we left sex hotlines in the 70s man.”

Is the first thing your friend says when you tell her you have a new job and you’re starting on monday. She leans closer, eyes a little too wide in your opinion and shakes her head like she’s just heard the dumbest thing ever. Which, granted is a sane reaction giving the bomb you just dropped on her, but if she knew the story behind it, she’d be even more shocked.

It all started a couple days ago in the subway. A bit Squid Game themed if you’re being honest, hence the weird feeling you’re still nursing. You were on the phone with your cousin, waiting for the next wagon to arrive and talking about the awful rent prices. Having just been fired from a corporate job for—and I quote—“not being smiley enough and using way too much sarcasm” (in your defense you only use it when someone’s being actively rude to you), you were left with unpaid debts and way too many bills. So you spent the entire commute shit talking the HR with your cousin, occasionally getting nasty looks from old people passing by.

At some point, the wagon started emptying and when your stop came, you were left alone in the station with a man in a suit. You didn’t pay him any mind, busy spewing nonsense about how the HR ‘had ugly eyebrows and a micropenis anyway’, but when you headed for the exit, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You remember turning around and having to look up because of how tall the man was. He was carrying a leather briefcase like he was headed to work and when his hand dropped to his side again you clocked the expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

“Excuse me?” he said, all serious.

You looked at him up and down, tilting your head to the side so he could see the very obvious phone pressed to your ear—your way of saying ‘read the room’. But he didn’t in fact ‘read the room’, instead his hand dove in his suit pocket and he dug out a square-shaped piece of paper. It was some sort of business card, a yellow piece of paper with the words ‘Hotline 1OO9’ in the middle and a name on top. Park Jongseong. He held his hand out and adjusted his tie with the other one.

“Let me call you back hold on.” you told your cousin, scoffing before you hung up and put the phone in your back pocket. “Yes?”

The man gave a curt nod and spoke, “I don’t want to come across as weird or sound like a creep, but I’ve been listening to your voice on the subway and I was really interested by the rasp—”

“I’m tired, I wanna go home, so if this is a scam i’m really not in the mood and you can fuck off.” you cut him, sighing aggravated.

“It’s not. I run a freelance company, we work over the phone with clients and I really found your voice interesting, with all due respect. So I decided to just come talk to you, see if you were interested in the whole thing. I’m not really big on scouting people in the street because this is delicate but we’re a…sex hotline company. But you just sounded too good for me to walk away, I hope that’s not disrespectful.” the man explained, lips coming in a tight line.

You rolled your eyes, slightly offended that he thought this was a good idea and you grabbed your phone again, ready to leave, “I’m not interested, thank you.”

He must’ve felt the prejudice in your eyes when you heard the sex work part so he drew his hand back, giving you a little more space, “Its not a cam-girl company or anything. Our staff is mainly men and they only interact with clients on the phone. But i’ll leave you alone, have a good day.”

You nodded, lips drawn in a tight line and you reciprocated the farewell, turning around to head for the exit. But before you could walk up the stairs, the man spoke again.

“It pays well. You know, rent is getting awfully high these days… and my company takes this into consideration. How does 5O,OOO a year sound?”

The bastard.

Needless to say you took the business card, feigning indifference, and the second you got back home you turned on your computer.

You were jobless and on a very thin line money wise, so naturally you had to look into a it a little bit, or else you’d risk ending up in the streets because no company voluntarily seeks out a girl with a diploma so weak. A generic business diploma from a low-ranked private school wasn’t going to cut it, you knew it—so desperate times called for a little reddit deep dive.

The several Google searches didn’t give much detail, just a cryptic website with a phone number and a list of employee names with no picture whatsoever. But when you saw the date of creation of the company, you deduced that it was a very new one and so the website was new aswell.

It was weird really, that guy—you assumed his name was Park Jongseong— was fairly young, why would he go out of his way to create a sex phone line company in 2026? It was pretty much a dead practice, no one sought it out anymore and preferred watching porn or cam girls. What was the point of competing with only fans and trying to revive a dead business?

You typed the company name on reddit anyway, trying to see if this had any sort of Squid Game resemblance, if you were getting yourself into a dangerous survival game or something. But nothing much came up, just a 2 weeks old comment saying,

‘I’m surprised they still do these sex hotline things, I was interested and booked an appointment out of curiosity and as a 63 year old man, it brought so many 80s memories! The downside is that there’s only one woman worker there. But for the homosexual folks, the guys sound very hot ;)’

Well. At least it wasn’t a man-only company—in the optics of you reaching out to them. But only one woman worker sounded a little bit sketchy, not something you’d generally go for. You entered the redditor’s account and found he had fortunately posted something else about the hotline.

The calls are a bit expensive, i’ll give you that. But it’s really worth it, even if you’re not calling to jack off. My favorite one is Jake, you can tell he’s naturally submissive and not just acting. Refreshing to see submissive men in that industry!

You sighed when you found yourself in a dead-end. There was nothing else about that company, and for all you know this could be a staff member self promoting under a spam account, but for some reason it felt like you could give it a try. Not out of selflessness—the moral compass was dead—more out of desperation. It only accentuated the dilemma when you closed the tabs and found yourself starring at the dismissal notice your old employer had kindly left in your inbox.

You tilted your head and looked into the mirror across the room. You smiled at your reflection, wide, teeth and all, and cringed at the unnatural sight. When you tried again, you made it less dramatic and tried grinning with your eyes too.

Fuck them for saying you weren’t smiley enough. You could smile alright.

Your friend now looks back at you, leaning with her elbows on her thighs. “So you just took the job? Do you have a fucking survival instinct y/n?”

You shake your head, “I’d rather work a sketchy job than loose my independence and have to crash at my parents’ place.”

She raises both eyebrows, incredulous, “Well hello? I’m right here, I have a spare bedroom youu know you can always count on me, girl.”

“Did you hear the part about independence baby? You know i’m grateful though, right?” you say, playing with a hair band on your wrist. “It’s not the topic, like I know you’d take me in but I’d rather not loose my apartment at all, you know?”

She makes a small approving sound and leans back on the couch, “Yeah, nevermind. I just never pegged you for the type to work at a sex line, it’s really out of character. You’re always talking about pervy old creeps and stuff…”

You raise a finger, tilting your head like in the cartoons when they have a smart thing to say, “Well, guess what? They have a very specific way of working. You’re not allowed to fake it, if you’re uncomfortable and not into the call you can always say no. The caller will be reimbursed and that’s it. And also apparently the guys who work there are always listening and making sure their colleagues are not weirded out and stuff. All about consent and boundaries.”

Your friends snorts, “Damn, it’s a little crew of woke sex workers.”

You roll your eyes, throwing a pillow at her, “I don’t know it just gives me good vibes you know? After all there’s some very lonely people who want to talk you know? And if they wanna have a wank then be it, as long as they don’t ask me to like.. bark for them or something.”

“And what if they do? What happens then, huh?” she muses, tilting your chin towards you. “You’re not gonna just cancel every phone call, cause let me tell you something, there’s a lot of guys who like submissive women.”

“Well, I don’t know, I have boundaries you know? Submissive is…fine, I guess. As long as they don’t call me their slut I’ll be fine.” you shrug, snapping the band on your wrist.

She giggles, bouncing on her seat like a manic, “I definitely wanna see that. I can’t even imagine it, that shit’s gonna be so funny. You’re like the most dominant girl I know.”

Well, turns out capitalism is the one dominating you. You’re not really on top of the sex food chain anymore because the cost-of living-crisis is fucking you in the ass. A sandwich costs 12 dollars at the subway station near your new job, so you decide to go to work with an empty stomach because there’s no way you’re going to spend your last couple bucks on a chicken sandwich. You’ll eat at lunch anyway.

The company is fairly close to your apartment, only a couple subway stops away in a wealthy neighborhood. It’s surprising how nice the little building looks—although of course they only rent out one floor it seems like they get enough clients to be in this part of town.

You straighten your clothes and buzz at the door, your paperwork in hand. A couple seconds later, the door beeps open by itself and you’re step into a small corridor that leads to an elevator. The buttons all have a name for each company, and it turns out Hotline 1OO9 is on the 3rd floor, under a Japanese food brand. You press the button and fix your hair in the mirror, putting a small clip on the smallest hairs at the front of your face.

The second the elevator doors open you’re in a dimly lit hallway with the ugliest yellow walls ever. You look around, waiting for someone to receive you, but you quickly find a sign on the door that says, “Please do knock on the door, we don’t have a receptionist yet.”

You do just that, and a few seconds later you hear rapid footsteps and a man’s voice saying something inaudible. When the door opens, it’s a tall lanky guy that comes out, he’s wearing a suit but apparently slacks weren’t an option because he’s replaced them by oversized pajama pants with small cartoon imprints on them. He sees your eyes track down to his legs and cringes.

“Oh fuck—sorry. Hello, you’re y/n right? I’m sorry, we were doing photos for the website and I didn’t want to put slacks on, we didn’t get the aircon yet so it’s so hot inside.” he looks down at himself, embarassed. “Come in come in, i’ll call the boss.”

The first thing you think is that it’s so different from a corporate job, you’ve never seen an employee talk so casually inside the company building, much less show up to work in pajama pants. Secondly, when you take a quick glance across the room you notice the lack of desks, there’s only a couch and beanbags, an open kitchen and a big door with a sign that says, “don’t interrupt sexy time”.

“So, I heard you didn’t even need to do a job interview or anything? Boss just found you in the street and decided to hire you.” the guy makes small talk as he heads towards said door.

Come on, what would Park Jongseong even have to ask you in a job interview. If you’ve ever had phone sex? If you’ve ever made a guy cum?

You nod, “Yeah basically.”

The young man opens the door, he silently pads inside and you’re left alone in what seems to be the break-room/reception. There’s a coupe moving boxes—you suppose they haven’t had time to unpack everything yet—and a big pile of paperwork on the coffee table near the sofa. You instantly get closer, trying to see if they’re court filings or something of the sort. You can never be too sure. But it turns out it’s just forms and electricity bills.

When you hear footsteps you instantly straighten up and hold your own documents closer to your chest. This time the tall guy is accompanied by none other than the boss.

Jongseong is wearing a suit (with the slacks) and the same watch he had the other day—which if you look closer looks like a Roblox. He looks at you with a pleased smile and holds out his hand to shake yours.

“It’s nice to see you y/n,” he briefly squeezes your hand, “This is Nishimura Riki, he’s our main guy, everyone requests him. I’ll introduce you to everyone and then we’ll do a quick meeting in my office, how’s that sound?”

You walk past Riki, following him in the room. The walls are fully black inside, theres a couple of pods aligned like little telephone booths with pink neon lights all over them, it looks like a strip club with just a little hint of office elements such as a printer and a bulletin board. That’s it, the rest is neon lights and apparently…5 guys and a girl standing in the middle of the room.

They seem oddly out of place, is the first thing that comes to your mind. All of them are in suits and the girl in a professional looking dress, one of them—a tall guy who looks a bit like deer—holds a camera in his hands.

“Oh god..” Jongseong sighs as he sees one of the guys dusting off crumbs from his suit, mouth full of chips. “Everyone this is y/n. I count on you to treat her with respect and to show her around the office, explain the basics and help her out if needed.”

The guys nod, all 5 of their eyes raking over your whole face and body, and the girl smiles until her teeth show. You feel a little bit exposed so you let out an awkward laugh. “Hi, nice to meet you.” you bow politely.

It’s a mishmash of simultaneous answers, a couple ‘hey’s and smiles, then Jongseong walks to them and taps each of their shoulders as he introduces them, “This one’s Lee Heeseung” he’s tapping on the guy with a camera, “this one’s Yang Jungwon, this is Sim Jake, this is Park Sunghoon and this is Kim Sunoo.”

They’re all pretty in their own ways, Heeseung has big eyes that look like they have some kind of special effect lighting in them, Jungwon’s face is very expressive, Sunghoon looks a bit more reserved but still gives a shy smile, and Jake just grins all the time like he’s genuinely just a happy guy. But the prettiest one is definitely Sunoo—they’re all insanely attractive but he catches your eye immediately with his doll-like face.

“And this is our only—well second female staff now, her name’s Haejin.” Jongseong points to the girl. She looks gorgeous, she has these big black eyes and when she looks at you, you can already tell she’s going to be a sweetheart.

See if you would’ve been working in an office with only hot people at your last job, you would’ve made an effort to smile more.

2 hours in, you learn that despite its lack of internet presence Hotline 1OO9 is a fairly successful new company. As soon as the staff is done with their website photoshoot, they instantly get back to work in their little phone cabins, diligently picking up calls. It’s a surprise that there are so many customers really—in your mind this was a very underground thing that only Patrick, 63 year old on Reddit knew about. But no, it seems like the customer are just very secretive with what they choose to do in their free time and don’t go out of their way to recommend it on social media.

There’s a friendly atmosphere in the office, like they’ve known each other for a long time, they joke around and it doesn’t really feel like the typical workspace. Refreshing.

In Park Jongseong’s personal room you go over paperwork, the whole hiring process ordeal and a couple of rules that sound totally innate to you. The boss sits in a leather chair across his desk and hands you some forms to sign.

“Okay, these are confidentiality clauses and a couple other things I need you to go over. This one regards your paychecks and this other one I also need you to sign.”

You grab his pen and start going over the documents, knee bouncing over the table. Jongseong observes you quietly, chin propped on his hand like he’s trying to figure out whether you’re uncomfortable or not.

“Are you okay y/n?” he goes.

“Yeah I’m fine, just a little nervous about messing this up is all.” you admit, putting the pen down and sliding the documents over to him.

“Mmh, I know, a lot of my employees felt the same way the first time. So here’s what I had in mind, how about I assign you to a phone call with a female customer? She’s very respectful and nice, a long time client. Only if that’s okay with you though, if women aren’t your preference or anything that’s fine.” Jongseong offers, a thoughtful look on his sculpted face.

Ah, if only he knew.

“That would be very good actually. I think I might not feel that much pressure with a girl.” you nod.

“Perfect, then it’s settled. But if you have any doubts or need any guidance you can always talk to the rest of the employees, they’re really nice you’ll see. They can even give you a few lessons.”

A while after going through basic stuff, including whats required in calls, prompts etcetera, you’re walking inside the neon room along with Nishimura Riki who kindly guides you to a phone cabin. His blonde hair sits messy on his head and the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned due to the lack of aircon.

“Call me if you need anything okay?” he winks before shutting the glass door and walking away.

You pick up the phone that’s dangling from the wall, it’s a hot pink case that looks like the ones in those 80s sitcoms. There’s a little leather chair at the corner of the pod, you take a seat and look at the wall. You tell yourself that this is fine, that it’s for the money and that there’s no shame in such a work but really your main concern is embarrassing yourself on the call and not knowing how to entertain these people. You’ve been in a couple relationships and phone sex was a recurrent topic but talking dirty to strangers is a whole other topic.

When the phone in your hands rings, you almost jump, startled.

On the other side of the glass door, you spot Sim Jake watching you from his own pod. When he sees you jump, a small glint of amusement flashes in his eyes before he quickly looks away.

You pick up the call, relaxing in your seat to give the impression you know what you’re doing and you smile, hoping it’ll make your voice sound warm. “Hey, welcome to Hotline 1OO9, this is y/n, how are you doing today?”

The voice on the other end is low, the kind you’d get flustered by in real life. “Hi y/n, I’m good how are you?”

“I’m doing great thank you. This is actually my first time so I hope this will be enjoyable for you.” you say, fiddling with the fabric of your skirt.

“Don’t worry, you have a really pretty voice so this is already going well. Plus I’m not that demanding, I’d like to know your limits and boundaries if that’s okay?” she asks.

“Thank you, you sound very pretty too. For the limits i’m practically open to anything, feel free to talk about any topic.” you tell her.

She chuckles on the other end, “Okay, if you say so. But let me know if i’m saying something that makes you feel uncomfortable okay?”

She sounds really kind, so you hum, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know, but i’m pretty sure I won’t need to. So, tell me a little more about what you’re hoping from today?”

“Honestly just a nice little chat, I’m…well I live in a very small town and I’d be a pariah if I ever came out of the closet so you know…I can’t really date girls there. The first time I called Hotline 1OO9 it was mainly to have phone sex, i’m no liar. But I talked to Haejin a couple times and it felt so comforting. I felt much less lonely, so I don’t really mind if this stays sfw you know?” the girl chuckles.

“I get it, I’m sure we can figure out the vibes throughout the call. Just know i’m open to both, whatever you need sweetheart.” you smile, genuinely this time.

When you look outside the pod, you find Heeseung and Jake watching you curiously. They’re leaning on the wall of their own pod and as soon as you spot them they quickly look away.

“Thank you, that’s nice to hear. Have I already told you how pretty your voice sounds?” she responds.

You look back at the wall, “I’m sure you did a couple seconds ago, but I liked it. You know when you can tell someone is pretty by the sound of their voice? That’s exactly how I feel about you.”

The girl chuckles, “Is it weird that sweet girls turn me on so much? I must be so deprived.”

“Well if that’s what you like I can be even sweeter. I bet I can even come up with sweet things to say if you tell me what you’re wearing right now” you tease, confidence coming easier than expected.

Turns out you’re a natural…?

“I’m wearing a tank top and my underwear,” she says, and you hear the phone move a bit.

“Mmh, soft little tank top? Is it tight?” you ask.

“It is, what are you wearing y/n?” she pushes back, tauntingly.

“I’m wearing a tank top too, and summer shorts.”

You’re not. You’re actually wearing office attire but she doesn’t have to know.

“Cute. Before anything, do you like being called a good girl y/n? Is that something you’re comfortable with?” you hear her take a soft panting breath, is she already turned on? Did you do good?

You’re tempted to ask her if you’re doing good, for the first time of your life you’re seeking approval. You contemplate the question for a quick second. You’ve never been called that and you’ve already unconsciously made up your mind about it, for some reason. It’s not something you’d ever ask your partner to call you, but it would be a stretch to say it makes you uncomfortable.

“You can call me anything you want pretty.” you respond, one leg crossing over the other.

“Mmh, atta girl.” she smiles on the other end. “I just want your voice and your attention. Can you do that?”

Well damn it if she doesn’t sound hot. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Soft voice for me, please. You’re not in charge right now. You’re just here to listen and answer when I ask.” you feel her get more and more comfortable but your habits get the best of you. You’re not used to being what she’s asking for.

“Alright, soft voice. I’m sorry,” you apologize, shifting in your seat.

“That’s better. Tell me how it feels, hearing me talk like that?” she rasps.

“Strange. I keep wanting to flip it and ask what you’re doing. It’s harder than I thought to just… stay quiet and follow.” you admit. You can tell she noticed the stiffness in your voice.

“That’s okay. You’re allowed to find it hard. You’re still doing it. You’re being a good girl just by trying.”

“…Thank you. I’m not used to hearing that.” you swear you feel something in the pit of your stomach when she utters those tempting words, and your thighs squeeze together for a brief second.

“You don’t have to know how to answer it perfectly. Just take it, okay? I’m gonna touch myself while I talk to you, but you stay still. Hands where they are. No touching.” she orders.

When she hears you hum, she presses, “Words baby. I need words.”

You almost gasp, clutching the phone tightly, “Yes, hands staying put. I’m sorry I don’t really know how to—”

“Shh, it’s fine. You’re doing good.” the words send sparks down your spine until they reach your core. “You’re fine. Tell me you’re my good girl.”

You take a deep breath. Outside, Heeseung and Jake are still pretending they’re not quietly observing, but you can tell they’re seeing your state. It should be embarrassing because they’re complete strangers and you’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been sexually, but it isn’t. You like them watching, probably speculating in their heads, wondering if you’re aroused or extremely uncomfortable.

Truth is, both are mingling together in your head.

“I’m your… good girl?” you reply.

It comes out with a little interrogation at the end, and you instantly feel as stupid as ever. First day on the job and you’ve probabl already lost a client.

You didn’t expect to come out of your very first call with soaked panties and a dizzy head.

It’s funny how a confident woman can turn the sassiest girl into an embarrassed mess. But you can only admit you liked it, liked the attention and the care. Even more when she reassured you and praised you. That made you feel things you’d never felt before—as silly as it sounds—you’ve never expected to feel this way about a complete stranger.

Your panties are uncomfortably clinging to your pussy as you exit the pod, closing the door behind you. How much of a horn dog are you to be turned on by your job?

Heeseung and Jake instantly get off the wall and clear their throat, “Hey, how did it go?” Jake says with a small smile.

“It went good,” you reply before reframing, “Actually it went kind of bad. I hope I didn’t make us loose a client on my first day.”

Heeseung lifts an eyebrow, “How bad?”

You let out a self deprecating scoff, “I didn’t really know what I was doing, like at all. I expected her to let me lead but it was the opposite.”

Jake observes you, eyes trailing down to your bare legs involuntarily. He catches the tension there and quickly averts his gaze.

“Oh don’t worry, you just have to learn. Jungwon was like that at first but he got better and now he’s comfortable with a lot of different things.” Heeseung reassures you, lightly touching your forearm.

“What about Jungwon?” you hear a voice say behind you.

Turning around, you fall face to face with Yang Jungwon himself, holding a cup of coffee and a cookie wrapped in tissue.

“I was telling y/n about how it took you a while to learn the whole sub thing.” his colleague explains, leaning back against the wall lie he was earlier.

“Oh yeah, it was so weird at first. Random men telling me to be a good boy and take it, eugh. But I learned to enjoy some sides of it and not take it too seriously.” Jungwon explains.

It sounds a little bit off, like he shouldn’t just endure it because it’s part of the job, but you don’t say anything. Instead you’re surprised when he holds out the cookie in his hand before you.

“Here, I got this for you.” he smiles.

You take the sweet in your hand, “Oh thank you! You’re too sweet,”

It’s a caramel and black chocolate cookie, one of your favorites, and it tastes like heaven when you eat a piece of it. Jake mumbles something like, “what about me? I wanted a cookie too,” but you’re the only one who seems to hear.

“Don’t worry about it, how did your first call go?” Jungwon asks, siping on his coffee.

“Awkward. For her definitely. I was a mess, i feel like I wasted her money.” you admit with a self deprecating chuckle.

“I’m sure it’s fine, she can complain to customer service but trust me she won’t.” Jake affirms. “If you ever need pointers, stuff like that, you can let us know.”

Jungwon nods vehemently, “Totally, I’d be happy to help you out. I remember when I was a newbie Riki helped me out a lot and it went smoother afterwards.”

“Love you too man,” a deep voice cuts in.

It’s Nishimura Riki entering the room. He’s changed into casual clothes and ditched the cartoon pants, his hairs a little messy and he looks unfairly good.

“What’s up y/n? How was it?” he asks, almost like an old friend.

“Well, let’s just say I need some help.” you finish your cookie, wiping your mouth with the little tissue.

Riki clicks his tongue, “Anytime,” he looks at you up and down shamelessly, not even bothering to be subtle, and he smirks. “We can talk over lunch. Haejin and Sunoo are gonna eat out but we’ll all be here in the break room.”

A couple hours later and another two more calls in your record, you slip out of your booth. It went somehow smoother. The first guy was just a lonely guy who ended up crying instead of jerking off—which almost triggered your tears because of how sensitive you are—and the second guy was submissive at best, vanilla at worst.

The neon room is empty and everyone seems to have gone to the break room to grab lunch. You open the door and see that they’re already there.

Riki and Jungwon are sitting on a red leather sofa, Jake’s thrown on a beanbag along with Heeseung who’s on the floor eating chips, Sunghoon’s on a metallic chair with a rubik’s cube in his hand, laughing at something Riki’s saying.

“Oh y/n, come sit, come sit.” Jungwon lifts his head up and smiles. “We were just talking about Riki’s next client and how you could maybe listen to their call to get the hang of it.”

You take a sit on the only spot available which is next to him on the couch. Jungwon makes some space for you and hands you a paper towel and chopsticks when he sees you open your bag and take out a tupperware with last night’s meal.

“That would be awkward wouldn’t it? And what if the person doesn’t want that?” you cringe.

Riki responds, “Nah, she won’t mind. She’s a regular and she’s kind of into the whole humiliation and being heard thing. I’ll let her know beforehand though.”

You hum, considering it, but before you can say anything Sunghoon buts in, “What’s the problem though, when you do it what do you find hard?”

You dig into your meal, relaxing on the back of the couch like you’ve known these people for a long time. “Everything. Like to submit in general, I’ve never been… I hope i’m not oversharing but anyway, I’ve never been told what to do and I’m not sure how to respond or what to do, you know?”

Sunghoon nods comprehensively, “If you freeze or don’t know what to say, it’s completely okay to admit it, you know? You could say ‘I’m not sure what to do right now’, some people even like that, the honesty.”

“Yeah, and keep your responses short, just focus on listening and following one small instruction at a time. That’s already submitting.” Heeseung adds, eating his salad.

You feel insanely integrated already, almost like in preschool when you talk to people and instantly become friends with no need for introductions. Except well, you’re ‘bonding’ over bdsm right now, as insane as that sounds.

“Sounds easy but my brain becomes mush when I’m in the moment.” you shrug.

“How did the other two calls go?” Jake asks, now lying on the beanbag.

“First guy ended up crying. Wife left him and he’s lonely. The second guy was okay, he let me take the lead.” you explain.

“Oh so that’s why, I thought I was hallucinating when I saw your eyes get teary.” Heeseung chuckles. “I was walking by, almost knocked cause I thought you were gonna cry because of him.”

“No, I almost crying with him. Kinda caught me off-guard” you smile, recalling his sad voice. “But then I thought ‘what if his wife left him because he was an awful dude’ and got my shit together.”

Riki gives an amused smirk, “Perks of anonymity. I always wonder who’s on the other end—like imagine I’m dirty talking to someone who’s on an FBI watchlist?”

Everyone laughs as they finish their food and when all meals are practically empty, Park Jongseong emerges from his office.

“Already laughing together? That’s good.” he smiles, heading towards the open kitchenette and opening the fridge. “How’d it go y/n?”

You tell him about your first experience and the rest of the morning while Jongseong sits on the chair Sunghoon gives him. He listens and gives the same advice the others provided, before suggesting—just like they did—that you listen to one of their calls.

You learn after a bit of talking that he prefers to be called Jay, that Jongseong’s his official name but it sounds too serious. Everyone shares their age, and it turns out you’re right in the middle, Heeseung being older than you. You all chat cheerfully until Jay’s phone rings loudly in his office and it breaks the moment, calling the end of lunch break.

“Alright, sit down and make yourself comfortable.” Riki says as he opens the door of his phone cabin.

You do just that, sinking down on the little armchair on the conrner of the pod while he takes the other one. Riki extends his legs before him, man spreading on the chair as he grabs the phone in hand.

You think he’s going to say something but his eyes wander outside the pod and his eyebrows cock. “Nosy fuckers.” he mutters.

You follow his gaze and find Heeseung and Jake peeking inside, their hands on the glass like two kids. Do they have some sort of curiosity problem?

Riki gets up and reaches for something on the ceiling of the pod, his shirt lifting and revealing a hint of skin and what looks like a tattoo on his hipbone. This is the type of man you’d gush over outside of work, tall, lean and tattooed. But you have to focus on the task at hand.

He unhooks something and a thick curtain suddenly covers the glass door and plunges the room into darkness. “Shit, didn’t think this through.” he mutters, reaching blindly for the wall.

You stand up to help him find the the light but only end up bumping into him in the process. You feel your forehead hit Riki’s chest and when he finds the light switch you’re entirely too close. You swear you see him smirk as he sits back down on his armchair, spreading his legs like he owns the place.

It should infuriate you—you hate men who do that—but he looks good doing it, and as opposed to the men on the subway he’s doing it on his own armchair and not bothering anyone. Or yeah, maybe he’s just hot and that excuses it.

When the phone rings, Riki looks at you for a second, trying to read your face before he hits the button. “You okay?”

You nod, “Yeah yeah, go ahead.”

“Good girl,” Riki rasps.

You immediately freeze eyes narrowing in confusion, but the tone of his voice sends shivers running down your arms for some reason. He starts chuckling, clutching the phone on his lap, “Relax, it was just to set the mood.”

When you roll your eyes, avertin your gaze, he says a quick ‘Alright, just listen.” before he picks up the call.

“Afternoon,” Riki greets, a smug little look on his face like he just knows hes gonna do some damage.

You don’t hear the conversation at first, so you wonder what the point of it even is, it’s not like you need lessons in being dominant…

“There you are, how are you tonight?” he asks, one draped over his lap in a way that makes him look even manlier—if that’s even possible.

You see him nod before he replies to whatever she said, “Good. Before we start, I have someone here with me, she’d love to hear what a good girl sounds like when she’s being led. And I know you’re a good girl so you’re the perfect example she could get, am I right baby? I’m gonna put you on speaker so she can listen, you comfortable with that?”

There’s a pause during which she says something and he listens attentively, but his eyes are set on you. It’s like he’s silently making sure you’re giving him your full attention. The lesson’s gonna go really well if he keeps looking at you like that.

“Mmh, I thought you might. Say it clearly for her.” Riki smirks, a playful glint in his dark eyes. He clicks on the speakerphone button and puts it between the both of you.

“I’m okay with her listening, sir. I like being heard.”

She sounds young, in her late 20s and is already slightly out of breath. Very much like a specific someone… just not exactly for the same reason. You’re struggling to breathe because the room is a bit narrow and you’re bordering claustrophobia right now. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself instead of admitting you’re intimidated and also never thought your first day would go like that.

“Good girl. She’s sitting quietly right now, just observing. You’re going to stay honest and clear for both of us. Understood?” Riki continues.

And you feel his words in your stomach, cutting thought the barrier of embarrassment and principles because apparently you’ve left those out the door this morning.

“Yes sir.” the woman answers obediently, and you wish you could say you’re taking mental notes but really you’re focused on the 6ft something man whose gaze is bored into you. You know he’s trying to ‘set the mood’ or whatever, but it sure feels personal.

“Tell me where you are and what you’re wearing.” he questions.

“I’m in my bedroom… on my knees beside the bed, like you usually want. I’m only wearing my panties. Nothing else. My hands are in my lap like you said last time.” she replies, breath hitching like she’s getting turned on by her own submission.

“That’s good, hands stay in your lap ‘kay? You’re not touching yourself until I say so. You’re just gonna kneel there and answer me while she listens to every word. Clear?”

Yeah it feels personal. You cross your legs, feeling way too exposed and your hands fiddle with your skirt nervously.

“Yes sir, clear.”

“Then start by telling her what you are when you’re on the phone with me, baby.” Riki toys with the cord of the phone, looking at you all the while like he’s seeking your full focus.

“I’m a desperate slut who needs to be told what to do, sir.” her voice comes out smaller, you take notes on the tone and the specific words.

Riki clicks his tongue, “Louder. She’s right here. She needs to hear it properly.” The woman repeats it louder and he hums in approval, “Better. You’re doing good. You gonna keep being good for me okay, now spread your legs nice and wide. Keep your hands in your lap— don’t touch.“

There’s a small rustle of movement on the other end before she says in a small voice, “They’re spread sir.”

“That’s a good girl, does it feel nice being heard like that?”

You’re captivated by this stranger under the weirdest circumstances of your life. The way he talks sends warmth pooling in your lower stomach and you feel like an intruder.

The woman hums, “It feels… humiliating. But in the way that makes me wetter.“

Alright, too much information, you think, looking up at the ceiling to try and escape his gaze. The longer you listen the more you ge the hang of it, she doesn’t try to perform, she just does as she’s told, it’s not that complicated. Your thighs press together on the seat, and you’re pretty damn sure Nishimura Riki has noticed it but at least he has office etiquette and doesn’t say anything about it.

Not that anything about this screams ‘office’…

You stand up, legs a little wobbly. No kink shaming but this isn’t really your thing, and you don’t want to start hearing her flick the bean, as much as you’re curious about how Riki would sound talking her through it—

“Going?” the young man’s eyes follow your figure.

“Yup, think I got what I needed,” you whisper, low enough that the customer doesn’t hear.

The next few days are better. You slowly get the hang of it until you’re on a call with a man on your third day, and things go a lot smoother. It starts coming naturally, the pace, the words, everything starts being a little easier once you imagine it’s Nishimura Riki on the phone—

Major slip-up. What you meant is that Riki’s such a good mentor that it feels reassuring to imagine him because he’s not a stranger anymore.

Or at least that’s what you’ve established after eating together for a whole week straight on lunch breaks, sharing details of your lives with the other colleagues and joking around. They’re all extremely friendly and you quickly learn that they’ve all had some sort of financial problems which led to them being desperate for a job.

They’re not even surprised when you share that you were suspicious of Jay when approached you in the subway like the recruiter in Squid Games. They say he likes to do funky stuff like that for the love of the game and joke that he probably had a crush and didn’t know how to shoot his shot so went with the business approach.

You find that hard to believe since Jay hasn’t really talked to you all that much these past few days, but it’s not like it’s important anyway.

You begin noticing that Haejin is the sweetest person alive, she’s genuinely kind and means well—a nice upgrade from your old colleagues who didn’t hesitate to talk shit about you in front of the male staff just to get their attentions—she’s soft spoken and gives amazing advice on how to make the dirty talk flow. Granted that’s not something you thought you’d ever talk about with a woman you’ve only known for a couple days but she’s got a way of making you feel at ease, so much so that you end up telling her over the course of lunch, that you haven’t sex in a few months.

“How do you even live?” Haejin groans like she’s been hurt.

You snort, knife digging in your reheated steak, “I’m doing just fine. Kind of tense with all that sex talk all day long, but it’s fine.”

Haejin nods avidly, “I know right? I was just like you when I first started working here. But then I just became the horniest bitch ever. There’s no other way to put it.”

You chuckle at the curse word coming out of her sweet sweet mouth, “Its like i’m having foreplay all day but no real sex.”

“Oh I totally get it. Even the guys weren’t like that when I first met them. We all came here around the same time and I remember Jake for example, he was so calm and sweet. Now he’s gone mad, one time he even got a boner in the neon room. But don’t repeat it though, or he’ll be embarrassed.” Haejin whispers secretively.

Jake is sitting across the room on one of the beanbags, his phone in hand. He’s wearing jeans a t-shirt that really brings out the color of his eyes and—

Yeah, to be honest it’s just a white t shirt, nothing to do with his eyes. What it brings out though, is the outlines of his broad chest.

“I feel like that’s just natural, it’s basically sex all day long, how can you not react?” you reply, one hand covering your mouth like a true gossiper.

“Er, yeah. You’re probably right. He’s not even the only one, it’s like working with a bunch of sexually frustrated guys. Thank God they’re respectful though.” she affirms.

You look around the room, only Jake and Sunoo are here, Sunoo on the red leather couch doing god knows what on his phone. The rest of them are in the neon room probably working and Jay is out of town for a meeting.

“What you got this afternoon?” Haejin asks you, her fork raised in the air.

“A call with the guy who cried the other day and then a new client. The rest I don’t know yet, I’m waiting for the boss to send in my schedule.” you tell her.

“I’ll get you some tissues jeez, that one’s gonna be tough. Sometimes all these guys need is a therapist I swear.” Haejin rolls her eyes amused.

Before you can even answer, the phone rings on the front desk—or more like the kitchen aisle that Jay has transformed into a reception desk for the lack of one. Haejin grunts but you stand up before she can, “Don’t worry I got it.”

You pick up the call, it’s a delivery guy telling you there’s a package for Hotline 1OO9. “Yep, i’ll be here in a second, let me just get someone.” you reply when he tells you that they’re heavy boxes.

You put the phone down and look at Haejin who’s currently finishing her poke bowl, Jake and Sunoo are also munching on a sandwich so you decide to go call someone else and let them eat in peace.

A couple seconds later you’re softly opening the door to the neon room and peeking inside. It’s practically silent but you can see Riki, Sunghoon and Heeseung are in their respective sound proof booths on a call. In the corner of the room on a little chair he’s probably moved, Jungwon’s sitting with his phone, chin resting on his fist.

“Jungwon.” you whisper shout, hoping he’ll hear.

His head snaps up instantly and his once bored face turns into a smile. “What’s up?”

You point behind you and he understands, standing up to come join you he closes the door behind him. “There’s a delivery guy with some heavy boxes, can you come help me?”

Jungwon nods, following suit as you head out the office. In the elevator there’s a long silence before the doors open to the main entry and you fall face to face with 6 big boxes—screw that, huge boxes. They’re stacked haphazardly in the middle of the main entryway, practically blocking the doors. For a second, you just stand there, staring at them.

“What the heck is this? Did the boss even say anything about some packages?” Jungwon blinks several times, arms already tired just with the sight. He greets the delivery guy and signs the receipts.

“Not to me anyway.” you say when he leaves, crouching in front of one of the boxes and looking for a tag. When you find a tiny tag with an eggplant drawing you instantly understand. “That’s a box of penises.”

Jungwon snorts, surprised. “What?” he crouches next to you, his arms brushing yours and he takes a look at the side of the box. “Yeah that’s definitely a penis box.”

You chuckle, bumping his elbow and standing up to grab the boxes but he doesn’t, “Wait, let me see what’s inside before.” he says.

Before you can even tell him not to, Jungwon rips open one corner of the box and peeks inside—no literally shoves his eyes in the little gap.

“Yeah, it’s dicks.” he states once he comes up.

“How many of them?” you puff out your cheeks, fighting an incredulous laugh and Jungwon shrugs.

“Probably more than a hundred, judging by the number of boxes. Why are they sending hundreds of dildos here?”

You go towards the other box, ripping the corner but more gracefully than Jungwon did. Inside this one there’s a ton of wrapped up pocket pussies, other male sextoys and business cards. “This one has different ones. Who is this even for?”

“Probably for the clients, like freebies or something…?” Jungwon shrugs, bending to lift one of the boxes. The muscles in his arms flex as he hauls the heavy weight, his jaw clenching. The second you bend down to grab one of your own he tuts, “Let me do it, they’re heavy. I don’t want your back to hurt.”

You roll your eyes—although you secretly find it endearing—and you lift up the box, “I’ll be aight. I’m a big girl.”

Jungwon huffs a laugh, “Oh I know you are.”

And what does that even mean??

You practically melt on the spot—though you never show it—and you head towards the elevator careful not to snap your whole body in two with the hefty weight. It’s the goddamn job they do, it’s making them all hot and filthy and you’re starting to become just like them, sensitive to the smallest details and interpreting everything in a weird way. You need to get a grip.

After hauling the boxes inside the elevator, Jungwon gets in beside you and wipes the little bit of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, and of course, his shirt rides up on his v-line. Because it wouldn’t be funny otherwise.

When he catches you looking involuntarily, he smirks, eyes narrowing as the smirk becomes a full on smile. “You okay? Your back hurt?” he asks when you move and subtly wince.

“I’m good—” but you don’t have time to say anything before he gets behind you and places a hand between your shoulders.

The elevator seems to take 20 years to get to the third floor as Jungwon presses between your muscles, softly massaging the flesh, “See, you’re a liar, there’s tension there.”

You scoff, half amused half…turned on? Whatever the heck is happening to your body these days needs to be blamed on the job. “I’m fine, you worry about your own shoulders.”

You turn around at that—big mistake—and end up facing him. He’s taller so you have to look up and when you do, his eyes are slightly hooded, like he’s faded. Your brain screams, ‘dick dick dick dick dick’, so much so that you end up laughing in his face. You’ve completely lost it.

“What’re you laughing about?” Jungwon gives a curious smile, looking down at you.

Blessed be the elevator, you’re saved from having to come up with an answer when it finally stops on the third floor. Thankfully, Sunghoon and Jake are already waiting in the hallway, ready to help with the boxes.

“Boss just called, he’s ordered some freebies for the regular customers.” Sunghoon informs you, grabbing one of the packages effortlessly.

“Is there candy inside? Or like merch?” Jake asks, his eyes widening at the size of the boxes, cocking his head.

“Jake be for real man.” Jungwon chuckles, grabbing a box too, “What kind of merch could he be sending out to these people?”

“It’s dicks and pussies” you add, helpfully.

Jake’s expression turns into one of exaggerated disgust, “Jay’s just gonna send out sextoys?”

“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t tell girls and boys to stroke their shit and talk them through it all day long,” Sunghoon laughs, rolling his eyes.

“What happened with sex toys?” Haejin butts in as you all carry the boxes inside, she holds the door open and looks over curiously.

“It’s for the regular customers,” Sunghoon explains, stretching after he drops his box on the floor.

“Hello, I’m a regular customer.” she bows dramatically, “No jokes I hope we get to have one too.”

Jungwon laughs, “Just take one, I’m sure he’s not gonna spend an hour counting sextoys.”

Best believe Haejin does take one, she even invites all of you to do the same but only Sunghoon seems unbothered enough to suit himself. As for you, it’s not like you’re ashamed of using sex toys but holding a dildo in your hands in front of three buff guys isn’t not something you’d really like to experience today.

A couple minutes later, Riki and Heeseung emerge from the neon room and sit next to Sunoo on the couch. The oldest throws his head back until it hits the wall and groans, “I’m so tired.”

“What happened?” Sunoo asks him.

“The girl I just got a call with wanted me to call her my ‘little horny slut’.” he grunts, burrying his face in his hands.

“Why the fuck are you complaining right now?” Sunghoon blurts, incredulous, “I just spent 20 minutes on the phone with a girl who wanted me to call her ‘bad little gold-digger’.”

Riki snorts, one hand covering his mouth, “I usually don’t kink shame but how the fuck is that enjoyable.”

Before anyone can start venturing into this embarrassing topic, one of the phones in the neon room rings loudly, starting everyone.

“Oh shit, fuck. Forgot about the crying guy.” you say cryptically as you hurry towards the room.

You forgot you had work. Perfect.

You hear Haejin chuckle, “What is she talking about?” she asks when you’re out of sight.

You slip inside your pod and quickly grab the phone. In a hurry to pick up you press the button a couple of times and speak into the microphone, “Hello, this is y/n, good afternoon.”

But no one answer, it’s just a mess of static and creaking noises so you push the button again. “Heeello, this is y/n good afternoon.”

Crickets.

You put the phone down and make a beeline for the break room, once you’re there all of their heads snap up to you. “Can someone help with my booth, the phone won’t work I can’t hear the other person and there’s like static and stuff.”

Everyone turns their heads to Jake at the very same time, like he’s the assigned handyman of the office. Well apparently he is, you learn when Sunoo says, “Ask Jake, he’s always the one who fixes the phones. He knows his way around electronics.”

Jake stands up promptly, dusting off his jeans and looking over to where you stand with a sheepish smile, “I’ll help you.”

He follows you into the neon room and inside the pod, crouching in front of the cables. “We always get technical difficulties these days, I don’t know why Jay won’t just change the phones. Were you only hearing static?”

You nod in response, crossing your eyes with furrowed eyebrows, “I picked up and couldn’t hear a thing.”

Jake tweaks some buttons, a very focused look on his face, and once he estimates he’s done he looks up at you from where he crouches. “Try calling him back now, tell me if it’s fine.”

You do just that, sitting at the edge of the armchair you dial his number and wait. Once the ringing stops you finally hear a voice,

“Hello?” you call.

“Oh, finally, I thought you—” the rest is completely inaudible. You look down at Jake and give him a thumbs down. “Do you hear me?” the man tries again.

“I can hardly hear you, my colleague is trying to fix the issue, I’m so sorry.” you apologize, a little self conscious, “can you try and speak again for me?”

There’s a little bit of static before you can finally hear the man again, “—worry, you’re worth the wait. Take your time but—”

You curse under your breath as the line cuts again, and Jake messes with the cables, eyebrows pinched together, “Can you repeat that for me darling?” you tell the other man.

But Jake snaps his head up with a small, ‘huh?’ cheeks flushing like he thinks you were talking to him.

“Not you, dummy.” you whisper, pointing at the phone with a chuckle.

“I said don’t worry you are worth the wait, and to take your time but to not hang up on me.” the other man repeats.

“I won’t hang up on you, my colleague’s working on it as we speak.” you assure him, “How about we start? I don’t wanna waste your time.”

You hear him hum, pleased, “Whatever you like, I’d wait for you anyway.” he says, sounding a little desperate already.

You didn’t catch that side of him the other day because he unfortunately started crying midway through the actual dirty talk, but right now he sounds a little bit needy. He’s a divorced millenial but he seems particularly submissive, so a win is a win.

“You’re cute,” you fake-chuckle seductively, well aware that Jake is a couple of inches away, “What are you doing right now?”

You hear the sound of fabric ruffling and the smallest groan, “I’m in bed right now, I have my—”

The static starts again and you softly tap on Jake’s shoulder, “It’s cutting again, what should I do?” you whisper.

Your colleague holds a cable in his hand and looks up, “Just ask him to repeat and keep going while I figure this out, tell him he’ll get a price reduction or something.”

You nod, “Can you repeat handsome? I’m so sorry I couldn’t hear you.”

“It’s okay mommy, I said i’m in bed and I have my dick in my hand, hope that’s okay.” the man says, big emphasis on the mommy part.

You cringe, rubbing the corner of your eye as you fight to maintain your composure in the awkward situation. There’s a 50 something year old calling you mommy on one side and a very handsome puppy-looking boy on the other.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” you get back into character, leaning back against the armchair.

You see Jake’s shoulders twitch imperceptibly as he continues working but he doesn’t turn around or make a sound. On the end of the line, the man lets out a pathetic little moan, “I’m sorry mommy, i’m sorry. I’ll be better.”

Oh my days, you think to yourself.

But what cancels the second hand embarrassment is Jake’s reaction when you speak next.

“Look at you apologizing, that’s a good boy. Now don’t touch it until I say.” you tell the old guy in a low voice.

You swear you see Jake’s cheeks turn completely red, his hands slightly shaking as he works the electronics. And somehow that’s so much more thrilling than a guy calling you mommy. You think about what Haejin said earlier when she mentioned the state Jake was in ever since he started working here. The idea of toying with him seems so amusing, because as unprofessional as it sounds, what is even professional about this job in the first place?

“Yes mommy, I’ll—” the other man says, the line glitching again. You assume he’s saying what any submissive guy would say, which is ‘I’ll be your good boy’, it sounds coherent so you don’t even bother asking him to repeat.

“Mhh, that’s right. You’re doing so good f’me” you answer, eyes fixed on the back of Jake’s neck, which is completely flushed red. “I bet you want to touch that cock real bad, don’t you?”

You hear your colleague take a sharp intake of air and his fingers almost slip off the cables he’s working on. He’s pulled taunt like an elastic, nervous and fidgety, and you just want to mess with him all day long if that’s how his reactions escalate.

“Yes yes, please,” the man whines on the phone, fabric rustling as he most likely moves on his bed, restless. “Please, I’d do anything.”

“Aw, you’d do anything?” you taunt, voice progressively getting lower, “what if I say you can’t touch yourself today, would you do that?”

Jake’s breath audibly hitches and he drops his head closer to the wall, trying not to loose it. You can tell he’s a weak weak man in this moment, but he’s genuinely trying to make it seem like he’s fine. He messes with the buttons a couple of times before quickly standing up, dusting off his jeans once again. When he raises a thumb in question, he still doesn’t quite meet your gaze. You hum in response, noticing that the static on the phone has finally disappeared.

You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ and smile at him but he doesn’t reply, just blushes madly and scrambles out of the pod. You don’t even hear what the man is saying on the other end, toofocused on Jake’s retreating figure.

He doesn’t even bother closing the door behind him, which is why seconds after you hear Sunghoon’s voice saying, “Man, what happened to you? Don’t tell me you—…oh you horny motherfucker…”

A couple weeks go by, during which you do nothing but have fictional sex with strangers over the phone and hang out with your colleagues like you’re still in high school.

Nothing about it is professionally really, just a bunch of touch deprived idiots cracking jokes in between calls because it saves you from going insane over the fact none of you are getting laid.

You tell your friend everything when you’re outside of work, and she listens with a slightly incredulous look. She’s never heard of such an—and, I quote—“perfect job.”

She seems to think working with 7 hot men, a beautiful woman and talking about coitus all day long is the ideal job.

And while you’re grateful for getting paid doing absolutely nothing, it’s also starting to take a toll on your health. You’ve been having incessant wet dreams these past few days, to the point where you come into work pent up and frustrated, and seeing a bunch of fuckable men doesn’t help in the slightest.

The calls go smoothly with occasional little incidents such as a weird client asking for way more than he should be asking—pictures, because yes apparently he’s entitled to pictures because you work for a sex hotline—but other than that it’s all routine by now.

You find yourself spending more and more time with Heeseung, grabbing coffee before work in the morning, talking about life and office gossip. He even introduces you to photography and sneaks a couple picture of you when you’re not looking. One day Haejin even says he looks like he likes you, but you don’t think much of it, everyone’s desperate and pent up in that office after all.

You eat lunch with Sunoo a couple of times, he’s a very sweet guy, a little sassy sometimes but never mean. He lets you in on all the lore, inside jokes and stuff you’ve missed since they all started working together; he tells you about the time Riki’s ex called the hotline so he would give her another chance—after she cheated mind you—and you laugh for hours about a video of Haejin running and bumping into Jay by mistake.

You quickly become friends with them, though sometimes you question if ‘friends’ is an accurate description for your relationship. It’s not crazy really, but at times you’re left wondering if getting turned on by a so called friend really makes it a friendship.

Like that one time when everyone else had work to do, leaving you and Sunghoon alone in the break room—or more specifically, on the sofa.

You recall your thighs touching and neither of you moving away even though Riki and Sunoo had vacated their spots. Sunghoon was tired when he threw his head back against the wall, extending his legs in front of him and lifting his arms up in a stretch; you remember seeing his shirt lift up to reveal a small line of hair that led straight into his pants and your thighs pressed together in a matter of miliseconds.

Averting your gaze you noticed his protruding adam’s apple, the shape of it so beautiful you had to completely look away. But then you felt his eyes burning into the side of your face, you had to look out of curiosity.

Sunghoon was gazing at you with a lopsided smile, his eyes hooded. It almost took the breath out of your lungs—blame it on the deprivation—but you held his gaze, a challenging glint in your orbs.

“You have nice eyes.” he said, the fatigue almost making him sound high.

The corner of your mouth lifted in a small smile of your own, “Why are you saying that?”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty. Is that a weird thing to say?” Sunghoon replied, deliberately lifting his arms higher before dropping them to his lap.

“My eyes and now me in general?” you teased.

“Come on, you know you’re pretty. Everyone’s been saying it.” he chuckled, eyes dropping to your lips for a second.l before going back to your eyes.

“No one’s been saying that.“

“Well yeah, they didn’t say it to your face. But trust me they did. Especially Jake, he’s been all weird lately.” Sunghoon affirmed.

You swore the tension was going to kill you right then and there, the way he was looking at you was making you feel like you were bare in front of his eyes. You didn’t even know him all that well, you’d talked to him a lot over lunch but it was superficial, nothing too intimate. Now he was looking at you for the very first time like he wanted to devour you. How weird.

“Well that’s sweet, thank you.” you smiled, your eyes unable to leave his. And while the knowledge that Park Sunghoon thought you were pretty didn’t really change anything, his gaze said a couple hundred things in only a few minutes.

Lord have mercy for you were close to sinning.

“And he went like ‘tell me who’s pussy this is’, erm bitch not yours??” Haejin takes a deep imitating voice.

She’s perched on the arm of the sofa, making big movements with her arms as she narrates her last call and everyone listens. You’re crammed between Heeseung and Jungwon, Jake falling asleep on the beanbag while Riki sits on the floor in front of the couch.

“The audacity to say that to a sex line operator.” Sunoo comments. He looks almost peaceful if you didnt look closely and noticed his leg bouncing and his jaw slightly clenched.

The thing is, you’ve kind of had suspicions that the two of them—Sunoo and Haejin—were somehow involved together. Maybe it’s the way they often eat alone together, or how they’re extremely touchy with each other, constantly brushing their hands together and sneaking glances when the think no one’s looking. You’re not falling for it though, you can tell the difference between friends and people who have fucked.

The sneaky bastards.

“I know it’s just dirty talk but I wanted to laugh so bad,” Haejin continues.

“You’re so strong cause I would’ve been laughing already.” you snort.

Heeseung bumps your arm playfully, “You would’ve been laughing cause you don’t usually like it, there’s a difference.”

You raise an eyebrow looking over at him, “who says I don’t like it?”

There’s a silence in the room and you almost think you said something out of line, but then again what’s ‘out of line’ in here?

Heeseung huffs a laugh, “I thought you weren’t into that shit?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m against it.” you answer. “I like a good surprise.”

His eyes trail down your face to your lips and his tongue darts out to lick his. He’s being so obvious yet it’s so enthralling you want to melt into the couch.

The moment is cut short when Haejin clears her throat and waves a hand between both your faces, breaking the spell. “Hello? Get a room please.”

Sunghoon groans, “Whole room horny.”

Heeseung smiles, throwing his head back on the back of the couch while the whole room sounds like a bunch of desperate teenagers. It’s almost time to go back to work but everyone’s dreading the prospect.

Riki brings in his 2 cents, “I say we should go to the club and all get laid this weekend.”

“100% agreed,” Jake says, voice muffled by the beanbag he’s currently lying face down on. “I can’t go on like this.”

No one has time to give their opinion because the door to Jay’s office opens and he comes out holding a stack of papers, a pair of serious glasses perched on his nose.

“I don’t know if you guys remember this conversation we had a couple weeks back? Yn you weren’t there yet so I’m just gonna brief you in on this idea.” he starts, “We talked about implementing duo calls to our list, so you guys would be paired up on calls depending on the requests. I received a couple requests for Y/n and Riki and also Sunoo and Haejin this afternoon, how does that sound to you guys?”

You look around and find Riki’s eyes already on you, he seems to be just as surprised as you are. Since the other day, there’s been a slightly tense atmosphere between the two of you, like you’ve walked in on an intimate moment even though it was professional.

You can still hear his voice and it sends shivers down your spine whenever you’re catapulted back to that moment. Now to know the boss wants you to both participate while sitting next to each other in those narrow cabins is somethjng else. Sure, you’ve done it in front of Jake but it was just to mess with him, now you have to be serious and somehow collaborate in your dirty talk, if that makes sense.

“But like, how would that work? What would need to do?” Haejin asks, cocking her head.

Jay holds out a peace of paper, proud. “That’s why I printed these out, I’m gonna need you to go somewhere together in pairs. I gave you each a specific scenario and I want you to rehearse okay? These people are willing to pay a good price for this, so i don’t want it to be rushed.”

“Customer is male, he likes the idea of cuckholding but wants to be involved too. What can you do to make it sound authentic while also interacting with him?” Riki reads.

He’s sitting across from you in his booth, legs spread as he lounges on his armchair. You agreed to rehearse with the curtains drawn for maximum privacy because you both know how curious the rest of the staff can be, but the con is that now the cabin feels so much smaller and Riki’s playing right into it.

He’s got bedroom eyes, always looking at you like he’s trying to say something with them and he plays with the knowledge that he can get you flustered easily.

“First of all, you’re gonna have to come closer to me since we only have one phone. Then we should give him a lil show, talk to each other, imply we’re doing actual things to each other etcetera.” Riki says, folding the sheet in half, “Can you fake moans?”

You almost snort, “For 300 dollars yes I can.”

Three hundred is the price the man is offering to pay to hear you both. You’d almost be flattered…in another world.

“We don’t wanna risk it though, let me hear you.” Riki insists.

You shake your head immediately, “I’m not gonna just moan out of the blue. Trust me I got this, I’m gonna do good.”

Riki’s smirk widens, his gaze darkening, “Oh I know you’re gonna do good y/n.”

You’re tempted to look away, his gaze too heavy on you, but his words are what do it. You’re a whole different person around him and he seems to notice, seems to find it amusing, really. You look down at your shoes, tapping them on the floor distractedly.

“Come here, let’s rehearse before he calls” he cuts through your silence, beckoning you with his finger. It’s with hesitant legs that you stand up, not really knowing where to go, and stand awkwardly next to his armchair. “Just come sit here, we can’t be too far apart or he’ll notice.”

You zero in on his pointer finger tapping his thigh and your eyes widen a little bit. That was never in the job description—though you should’ve expected it with how comfortable everyone is. You bury your embarrassment somewhere your brain can’t find and you lower yourself to sit on Riki’s lap.

“That’s it mama, sit down.” he encourages in a low voice. His hand comes up to your hip, touch light and respectful in order to steady you.

“Mama?” you chuckle nervously, back pressed against his chest, amused by the nickname.

“I’m rehearsing aren’t I?” Riki says against the back of your neck, his breath fanning on your sensitive skin. “Come on, dont be shy, gimme a moan. You have to make him believe it.”

You shake your head, hair brushing his shoulder, “It’s gonna sound awful.”

But Riki doesn’t seem to care. You can feel him getting closer by his breathing against your neck until you’re sure his lips are merely inches away from your skin. “No it’s not, you can do it.”

You huff a laugh but it comes out oddly weak as your head lolls involuntarily. Every part of your body is stimulated by only the feeling of his breath, how pathetic does that sound? You’re so deprived that the thought of his lips being so close brings you to utter weakness.

“I cant just moan like that, what if I sound off?” you say, breathless.

Riki doesn’t reply, instead you feel his lips brush your nape and your eyes flutter shut as you fight to stay focused. He trails a path down to your shoulder, pressing his lips over the fabric of your top until he finds a bare strip of skin. Simultaneously, his hands lightly squeeze your sides, and when you shift on his lap he squeezes harder. Your breath hitches and he seems to hear it because his fingertips travel to your ribs before settling on your stomach. Riki traces circles on the part that’s not covered by your top, his lips playing with neckline of it.

The moment he leaves lazy open mouthed kisses all the way to your jaw from behind, you gasp, clutching the hem of your skirt with shaky fingers.

“There you go. Sound so pretty. Is that all it takes?” Riki teases, teeth nipping at your earlobe. “I knew you could do it, I’m just gonna have to keep you right here all through it.”

You feel his tongue dart out to taste the skin where jaw meets neck and you instinctively brace yourself with hands on his thighs, to which he reacts to with a low hum. You don’t even know what this is, what you’re doing, but it feels too good to stop. It’s like being denied water for months and finally getting to drink. Except Riki’s like Mountain Valley Spring Water.

He squeezes your hips, fingers venturing into the skin of your exposed thighs. “You can do better can’t you?” he rasps against your neck.

You’re left lightheaded and unable to reply so he only makes it worse. Riki squeezes, traces patterns all the way to your inner thighs and stops right there. That’s when you nod, needing his touch like air. You can’t bear to feel him stop.

“Good girl, show me then.” he praises, teeth grazing your skin.

The next thing you know, Riki spreads your legs on his lap and his hands settle on your inner thighs. He’s touching one of your most sensitive spots and you just cant control the moan that comes out of your mouth.

It’s a mix of a pant and a moan, low and soft, and Riki seems to react physically to it. His hands squeeze the fat of your inner thighs and wander higher, right where your skirt bunches up.

“What if I just slip those panties to the side,” he emphasizes by hooking his finger to the hem of your panties, never actually touching you. “and have you sit on my cock all through the call. Would that make you moan alright?”

Your breath goes wild as you throw your head back shamelessly, you’re pretty sure he’s managed to get your panties soaked with only a few PG 16 touches. “You’re crazy,” you whisper shakily.

“Am I? The door’s closed and we’re supposed to put on a show for him anyway.” Riki chuckles lowly. “If you don’t want to it’s alright mama, I won’t push.”

You shake your head and nod simultaneously, completely out of it. You don’t even know what you want except that you need to feel something.

You could cry if you’re left on the edge once again after enduring it for weeks.

“That a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, pretty?” the bastard laughs again, amused by your state of evident arousal. He lifts the hem of your panties and snaps them back into place, his other hand stroking the skin of your hip.

“Yes, yes.” you gasp, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

Riki hums, but he doesn’t rush to take them off, instead he cups your cunt through the fabric and presses his palm against your clit. He presses in pulsing motions, until your legs are closing around his hand and he has you boneless on his lap.

That’s when you feel his bulge pressing against your ass, thick and rock hard, and everytime you shift in pleasure, it twitches through his jeans.

“You’re soaking right through the fabric, pretty.” he whispers against your ear, fingers toying with the wet patch in the front of your panties. “Gonna take these off now, that okay with you?”

You nod instantly, spreading your legs for him to access. The second you do, he tugs your panties to the side, and the air hits your sopping cunt. Your walls clench around nothing, desperate to feel him, and Riki takes his sweet time, grabbing the phone in one hand and unbuckling his pants with the other. “A shame I can’t see your face like this mama, turn around f’me.”

You obey, on shaky legs you turn around and sit on him, facing him. Now you can clearly see his face, his flushed cheeks and messy hair, hooded eyes and the thick bulge in his pants. It looks like it hurts when he palms himself, buckle in hand.

“Go for it.” he rasps, bringing your fingers to his zipper.

While you unzip him, Riki strokes your cheek and tugs gently at the hair in the back of your head. When you’re done he lifts his hips a bit and tugs his jeans down to his knees along with his Calvin Kleins. His cock slaps against his lower stomach when he frees it, tip weeping precum all over his pelvis. It’s already fiercely erect, standing out proudly against his happy trail, pressing upward toward his stomach.

Before you can do anything, the phone rings in his left hand and he sighs shakily. “Come here then, sit on it.” he rasps.

You look at him through your lashes as you wrap a hand at the base of his cock and lift your hips, angling him below your pussy. You feel your thighs shaking as his tip brushes your clit, and you brace yourself on his chest, eyes closing.

The moment you sink down and take the head of his cock in, Riki groans, gripping your hip. “Such a good girl— fuck…look at you.”

He looks down at where your bodies meet, your pussy accommodating his thick length as best as you can, and he shuts his eyes, adjusting to the intense suction. When you take more of him he whispers, “Can I pick up the call now?”

You nod breathlessly and when he’s all snug and entirely inside of you, you moan. Before pressing a button and accepting the call, Riki takes one last look at his cock stretching you open.

“Hello, this is Riki and Y/n for Hotline 1OO9, how’s your day?” he says with a steady voice, except or when you listen closely to his messy breathing.

Riki presses the speaker button and holds the phone between you both. How are you even supposed to come up with words when he’s stretching you like that? You can only clench around him until you feel every ridge and every vein like they’re memorized.

“My day’s good, thank you for picking up.” the guy on the other end says, his voice a little bit shy.

Your head falls forward on Riki’s shoulder and your forehead rests there. At the sight, his cock twitches inside you and he pushes in deeper, trying to reach the deepest part of you. To that, you moan, nails digging into his arms. You want to move so bad, you wanna fuck yourself on his cock and finally reach a long awaited orgasm.

The customer must hear every little sound you make because he asks, “Are you close to each other?”

Riki chuckles, one hand grabbing your ass and kneading it, “Got her on my lap, must be why she sounds so breathless. Don’t you baby?” he kisses your jaw.

You hum, weak all over. But Riki won’t have it, he grabs your chin and puts his thumb on your lower lip, “Use your words. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, “yes, yes.” and he rewards you with a sharp slap to your ass. “Good girl,” he praises.

It’s like the man on the other end of the line fades away, you can’t even hear his voice, just Riki’s and whatever he’s doing to your pliant body. His eyes are endless pits of darkness when he looks at you, pushing his thumb past your lips, and as you suck around it obediently, your walls clench around him and your hips shift.

“Uh-huh, who said you could move?” Riki takes his thumb out of your mouth and grips your hips to stop you.

You grip his arms, your belly moving with each ragged breath you take, and Riki’s cock throbs inside. He takes both your hands and holds them together behind your back, having you there seated on his dick, pride stripped away while a stranger listens.

“Oh look at that, you’re making such a mess.” Riki hums, looking at where you’re linked, his lower abdomen covered in your slick. “She’s so wet, soaking all over me,” he tells the man.

You don’t even hear his reaction, the need to move so intense it buzzes in your ears.

“Oh baby, you wanna move so bad, don’t you?” Riki taunts, giving the smallest thrust. But it’s enough to make you crazy, thighs shaking and body rocking.

When he speaks to the other man, you shiver, “She’s a mess, shaking on my cock. You should see her, so pretty when she just takes it.”

“Fuck… please, I can’t.” you plead, looking a Riki though your lashes, desperate for more movement. He’s so deep inside of you that even the smallest thrust makes you see stars.

“You want this?” his hips buck up, tip of his cock hitting a delicious spot inside of you. Your gummy walls cling to him, pulsing and keeping him right there, and he groans. “So tight, course you want it, you’re practically choking my cock.”

You hear the other man’s happy sounds but you shut his voice out, focusing on Riki.

“More, please.” you beg.

“Should I give her more?” he asks the customer with a smug smirk.

“No, not yet.” the latter decides, panting.

Riki shrugs, looking at you, “You heard him baby, just stay still.”

You’re not even sure you can take it. Every slow pulse of his heartbeat travels right through the shaft and presses against the softest parts of you, each one makes your hips twitch with the need to fuck back. You can feel how hard he is—impossibly hard—yet he holds himself completely still, breath controlled, hands locked on your wrists to stop you from grinding. Because Riki is so still, you can feel everytime he leaks inside of you, his precum warm and sticking to your walls.

“Mmh, that’s good. You’re doing so good.” Riki praises, squeezing your wrists, his cock pulses and his hip twitch just a tiny bit, making him just as disobedient as you were. “Fuck, she feels so tight ‘round me.”

Something starts building in the pit of your stomach, you don’t even know why or how, but it just does. Your thighs quiver and your forehead drops to his shoulder once again, your mouth parted in a silent moan. But Riki doesn’t let you, he cups your face and forces you to look at him, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Nuh-huh, eyes on me.” he coos, stroking your flushed cheek while one hand still secures your wrists. “You’re such a mess, that pussy’s squeezing me so tight. Look at you, dripping all over.”

Riki pushes your chin down and makes you look at where you’re connected, he brings his hand there and collects the slick that’s coating his pelvis, fingers shiny. “She’s soaked, I should fuck her now, don’t you think? What if I just…” he bucks his hips, tip hitting your g-spot until you moan in pleasure. “… do this a couple times and leave her there shaking?”

He seems to react to whatever the man says on the phone—which you just don’t hear because apparently you have selective hearing—and he abruptly stops. You whine in frustration, rocking just a bit on his lap to find some sort of friction, but there’s just his heavy cock stretching you out and pulsing inside you.

“Please,” you whimper, “please, I need it.”

Riki squeezes your wrists unmoving and he kisses your collarbone, “You’re gonna have it when he decides baby. I don’t make the rules.”

You clench around him, the whatever that was building in your lower stomach intensifying everytime he opens his filthy mouth, you wanna hit him, make him fuck you senseless until you don’t even remember which day it is, but you can’t do shit. If the client weren’t there you would’ve already rode his cocky ass into tomorrow.

But it gets to a point where it’s just too much, your pussy grips him times and times again, almost in a rhythm, which makes his tip brush against your spot and your eyes roll back. You don’t even have to rock your hips to feel some sort of dizzying friction, and it seems like Riki’s understood it too, the way his cock twitches and his balls draw up. He hisses when you squeeze particularly hard and his eyes squeeze shut in agony.

“She’s gonna come without me even moving, I don’t have any room she’s squeezing so tight,” Riki tells the customer, then he looks at you and speaks, “I bet you’d sound so pretty if I could just fuck you properly, wouldn’t you?”

The next second, you feel his cock throb violently and his lips meet your neck, smugness all gone, “fuck, stop squeezing or I’m gonna cum baby.”

You whimper, a useless string of ‘please, please please’ coming out of your mouth and you clasp your hands together while he still holds them.

“Stay still,” the customer says, panting. “Both of you.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, but you’re so close it hurts. You pant, walls milking Riki’s cock as he fights it himself, sucking a spot in your neck. It’s too much, you try not to, but it just comes unbidden, you clench one last time, the head of his cock against your cervix, and your back arches.

“Fuck, I can’t—” you moan, eyes shut and head thrown back. Riki instantly looks at you, mesmerized, and he thrusts the tiniest bit to chase the friction. “I can’t..”

You come apart, your hips twitching over and over as you fight not to bounce on him. The lack of movement makes your climax feel denser, heavier, like it has nowhere to go except deeper into your body. You shake through it staying still, every pulse of your orgasm squeezing down on the hard length that refuses to move, until you’re left trembling and oversensitive with him still buried inside you, unmoving, as if nothing’s happened.

“That’s it, it’s okay. Fuck… she came so hard, didn’t even do anything,” Riki groans, hips stuttering, but before the customer can say anything he leans to your ear and whispers, “get off, i’m so close pretty.”

You shake your head, and when he releases your wrists you moan in contentment, “can I make him cum?” you ask the man on the phone.

He replies with a breathy voice, “Yes go ahead,”

So you take your cue, you brace yourself on his shoulders and when you start moving your own body screams in pleasure, everything sensitive. Riki throws his head back in a groan and his cock nearly slips out with how wet you are. When only the tip remains inside of you, you drop back down on his lap.

“Oh fuck—” Riki moans, gripping your ass, hips, anything.

He watches you through hooded eyes as you fuck yourself on his cock, his orgasm closer and closer, “I’m gonna come, doll. Just—get off.”

You shake your head once again, pressing little kisses to his shoulder as you bounce on his cock, “I’m clean and I’m on birth control,”

Riki groans, as if relieved he’s not gonna have to pull out and he bucks his hips, meeting your movements. “Fuck…you’re gonna—ah shit, keep going baby.”

You follow his lead, and a couple of bounces later, Riki’s cock is throbbing and the phone, which had been sitting on the arm of the armchair, almost falls. You scramble to grab it and hold it between the two of you, because he didn’t even notice, too fucked out to care. A string of ‘fuck fuck fuck’ comes out of his mouth and his hips stutter, his fingers digging into your flesh.

His stomach tightens under you and a broken sound leaves his throat. It’s a sign Riki’s control is fraying. You feel his cock swell even thicker inside you, the head pressing hard against that spot that makes your thighs shake and his grip on you tightens.

“Fuck—don’t stop,” he manages, voice rough. “Just like that—”

Before you or he knows it, he’s cumming.

Riki’s whole body goes rigid underneath you. A raw, punched-out sound tears out of his throat as his cock starts pulsing hard inside you—sticky surges of heat flooding deep. You can feel every spurt, the way his cock kicks and throbs while he empties into you. Riki’s hands clamp down on your hips hard enough to hurt, holding you flush against him so he can keep pumping cum as deep as possible. His thighs are shaking, his stomach is clenched and you feel he’s still trying to thrust up into you even while he’s coming desperate little movements that force every drop further inside.

Riki looks wrecked. Eyes half-lidded, mouth open, chest heaving, but his hands are still gripping you, unwilling to move even just a bit.

There should be a study on how greedy a girl can be, because the second you receive a text from Sunoo a couple days later, saying ‘tomorrow night is club night’ you reply without a second thought.

You’re not exactly planning on getting laid again—not that you’ve had your fill with Riki—you’re just looking to go out and party. But, if the opportunity presents itself you won’t decline, that’s for sure. You’re not sure why, but the scenario you fall asleep with doesn’t involve any handsome stranger on the dance floor. It’s involuntary but you can’t help but think about Riki, about Jungwon in the elevator, Jake in the booth, Sunghoon and Heeseung. Even Jay—if you’re being honest—but you wouldn’t actually go there, he’s your boss.

A little imagination doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s fine.

But is it crazy to be this level of greedy and imagine stuff with 5 different men?

Whether you’re thinking about them individually or not is irrelevant, but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be ashamed to indulge in your filthy thoughts.

Things have been going smooth over at Hotline 1OO9. You like that what happened with Riki hasn’t changed the atmosphere one bit, nothings awkward, you just have a nice little secret thing you two together.

You’ve never really talked about it, for you it was just part of the job, a ‘professional’ act heightened by obvious sexual frustration. You were just two ticking bombs waiting to go off, two consensual adults who took advantage of the circumstances.

It would be a lie to say it hasn’t happened again though.

Just the other day, you were walking past him in the empty break room and his fingers accidentally found your ass. He squeezed and you were a goner. You snuck in his pod and made out for god knows how long, dry humped like horny teens and you ended up on your knees sucking him off while he praised you.

You’ve found a new pleasant sense of reward in not being in control. You love it when Riki pulls your hair, calls you a good girl and slaps his dick on your tongue. It makes your stomach feel all warm and fuzzy when he says in that deep voice of his, “such a pretty girl on her knees for me like that.”

It would be a tremendous lie to say that you haven’t thought at least 20 times about the other day when in the break room, Riki sat next to you on the couch and slipped his hand on your thigh while everyone was talking.

It’s safe to say Sunoo and Jungwon noticed, then said something like, “In plain sight?” which made the others notice as well.

After all you were a group of shameless adults—the job had made you so unbothered about sex—so no one said anything about it. Sunghoon just winked exaggeratedly at Riki and Heeseung grabbed your other thigh in retaliation.

You fall asleep thinking about how it would feel to have them share you, as stupid as it sounds because you know it’s never gonna happen. You’ve read enough reverse harem books to know it sounds extremely pleasurable, you don’t have to choose and get a little taste of everything—a taste of five different worlds if you will.

When you think about it too deeply you feel like a whore so you just shake the thoughts aside and let sleep take you.

Come the next morning, you’re walking inside the office with a cookie jar and your purse. The cookie jar was your mom’s doing, she passed by a couple days ago and dropped them off, saying you should give some out to your colleagues. But because she thinks you still work at your old company—which is huge—she made 5 jars, so your kitchen counter is currently crowded with chocolate chip cookies.

You drop them on the coffee table in the break room and you immediately clock in with Jay. He’s wearing a crisp suit today, as per usual, and his hair is styled to perfection making him look like every woman’s dream.

“Good morning y/n.” he greets with a smile, “We got feedback on the website by the way. It was that guy from the call with Riki, he said you were awesome and recommended it. He even put heart emojis.”

You smile, “Morning sir, awesome news.”

Jay must notice how jolly you are because he asks, “What’s got you all smiley today?”

Pregnancy glow? Today’s lunch packed in your bag? What can you even say instead of the truth? It being that you’re a sexually pleased woman who’s gonna be even more sexually pleased tonight.

“Nothing sir, I’m always like that.” you shrug, smiling wider.

Your old boss’s email comes to your mind and you quickly shut up. Being notably not-smiley is what got you fired, so it’s best you refrain from speaking.

“When we first met you told me to fuck off and thought I was a scammer y/n, I don’t think you’re always like that.” Jay chuckles, going through paperwork like the busy man he is.

“Well yeah, but with all due respect boss, you sounded like a mix of that Squid Games recruiter guy and El professor in La Casa Del Papel.” you clutch your purse, half expecting him to get mad like your old boss would.

Instead he just chuckles, clearly agreeing. “I know, I did sound weird. But I’m glad you took the time to think about my offer and didn’t jump to conclusions. Now look at you, 20 requests a day, successful as ever.”

That you are. Now thanks to your critical thinking you can afford rent and not be worried about unemployment. And if someone has to say anything about your line of work they can go fuck off. You give Jay the brightest smile you can manage, “Thank you for not firing me because I don’t smile often sir.”

Jay laughs, a little confused but amused, “What? That’s not a reason to fire someone.”

And you’re sure if you had more money maybe you would’ve sued that damn company. There was always something a little fishy with that excuse anyways.

The day goes by fairly fast, you don’t even go out of your pod much because of how many calls you’ve been scheduled to today. Some are fine, some are weird but not a big deal because you get paid in the end.

Some guy called just to ask for sex advice, which you found particularly funny because not once did he initiate any type of conversation other than ‘how can I make my current girlfriend feel good?’ you gave him all you knew, tips and tricks and then hung up with an amused smile.

You ate lunch with your colleagues as usual, talked about inviting the boss to your little night out but opted not to because it was weird and probably unethical.

After eating you and Jungwon sat on the sofa and watched videos on his phone, your chin on his shoulder. He scrolled through his timeline and made occasional comments, looking at you from the corner of his eyes at times. When Jake came by, he sat next to Jungwon and adopted the same position you did, watching with the both of you.

But as soon as you heard the boss move in his office you straightened up and pretended to look at the wall, aware of how unprofessional it looked.

Jay came out and stopped right in the threshold, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “What’s with the faces? Break’s over in 20 folks.”

Dominated by the work system, you got up exactly twenty minutes later and got to work. Riki interrupted you a couple times, just “swinging by” as he said, to squeeze that ass he seemed to love, then walked back to his own pod like he’d accomplished his mission.

But the last time he did it—curtains be damned—Heeseung was walking by and saw everything. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, just snorted and said “sharing is caring man.”

You decided not to dwell on it because he was probably joking, but—surprisingly—there were a few instances of you imagining what ‘sharing’ implied.

The rest of the afternoon went by fast, and the next thing you knew you were clocking out, saying your farewells to no one but Park Jongseong who, unfortunately, wasn’t invited.

Your ass looks fabulous in your dress and everyone seems to think so too.

The way Jake looks at it says a lot actually, it’s like he’s seen a ghost, his eyes avert and his cheeks get red immediately like he’s judging himself for the thoughts he’s having.

Sometimes, if you’re being honest, you look at Jake and wonder how he does the job he does.

If you were to see him in the subway you’d think he works in engineering or teaches astronomy and only has sex once in a blue moon. But apparently the man does get laid, he’s just not cocky with it.

Riki, though, is plenty cocky. Once he gets a good look at your ass he gives it a squeeze, not really caring to be sneaky.

Haejin notices and points at him, “I knew you guys fucked.”

Jungwon and Heeseung snort. You’re waiting in line at the club entrance and you’re all pressed together along the wall, a thick cigarette smoke fog hovering over the crowd. Someone’s smoking cigarettes after cigarettes and it’s making your nose itchy.

“I swear to God if you’re greedy and wanna steal my hookup tonight I’ll make sure you get fired Rik.” Sunghoon points at him accusing.

One of his Riki’s hands goes to your lower back and he answers, “I’m good man, the club is all yours.”

It wouldn’t be Riki if his hand didn’t slip down to your ass for the nth time and squeezed. He then proceeds to lean down to your ear and whisper, “I’m hoping I get to take you home tonight.”

You snort, swatting his hand away playfully, “What if I want a change?”

Riki settles his hand on your hip this time as the line progresses, “Well I can share. How’s that for a change?” he smiles.

“You’re willing to share with a complete stranger?” Jungwon raises an eyebrow, leaning against the wall.

“I don’t know, any of you interested?” he looks around, expecting them to be grossed out.

When everyone raises their hand but Sunoo, you look surprised, and with filthy contempt, your mind files it as a very important information.

The latter looks at Haejin and raises an eyebrow, attempting to be secretive. As soon as he does that she drops her hand to the side and you pretend you didn’t see what happened.

“Well guess that settles it. Fill out forms and email them I guess.” Riki rolls his eyes, prentending to be jealous.

Sometime after, the bouncer finally lets you all in. You walk to the bar in a tight group and order a couple drinks to start the night. You don’t drink all that much so you get a single cocktail and decides it’ll be the last.

You all walk through the crowd, the speakers blaring ‘Kiss me thru the phone’, bodies are all pressed together, slick with sweat and you spot a few people making out savagely already.

Riki and Heeseung stay behind you all the time, like a fridge protecting its snack, and you notice Haejin’s pressed tightly to Sunoo’s chest. It’s not even a surprise when the slick bastard glares at a guy he’s caught looking at her.

Jungwon notices and looks back at you, amused, but neither of your say anything.

Once you’re deep inside the jungle of bodies you all stop. Sunghoon’s already looking around like he’s searching a prey and Jake’s eyeing the ceiling like he wants to go home.

So what better than to mess with him? You grab his arm and start dancing with him, trying to lighten him up a bit with a couple back and forth rocks to the beat of the music. He relaxes after a little bit and starts easing into it, hands coming up naturally to your hips as he smiles.

By the time the third song comes around, everyone’s having fun. Sunoo’s pressed up against Haejin, Sunghoon’s already found a girl to chat up and you’re still with Jake, only this time there’s Riki behind you and Jungwon on the side sipping on his drink. You’re boxed by them, grinding your ass shamelessly on Riki while Jungwon watches with a playful glint in his dark eyes and Jake quite literally endures, cheeks as red as wine. You make sure he’s not uncomfortable by asking him a couple times in his ear, to which he replies by getting even more flustered by your proximity.

But Heeseung’s nursing a drink—not at all unhappy—he’s wearing a dopey grin like he’s having the time of his life even though he’s not doing anything. You turn around to look, and reach for his arm, dragging him closer so he doesn’t feel left out. He holds onto Jungwon and starts dancing, moving his body to the bass boosted music. It would be a lie to say he’s not a bit drunk, his cheeks are flushed and he’s grinning like an idiot—even more than Jake usually is—he holds onto Won for dear life and nearly spills jis drink when someone passes by.

“Heeseung man we just got here like an hour ago.” Riki snickers, amused. “Get your shit together or you’re not gonna get laid tonight.”

He just beams, taking another sip and moving his hips, “Nopeeee, don’t care.”

Riki gets closer to you, pressing his front to your ass, indirectly pushing you closer to Jake and Jungwon in the process. It feels nice to be between all of them, especially the way Jake grips your hips and looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.

But soon after, Heeseung starts feeling dizzy and says he wants to grab some fresh air, and Won volunteers to go with him so he doesn’t stay alone. They slip out of sight and you’re left sandwiched between Jake and Riki’s bodies, the latter hardening almost imperceptibly against your ass.

It’s not even a surprise, you’ve noticed how high his stamina is, it’s like he’s always up for it, always ready to go. Jake’s a little further away, so you can’t exactly feel him, but it wouldn’t be a revelation if you were to find out he’s hard—it seems to be his default reaction, he even gets hard when he sees good food apparently.

When Sunghoon comes back, he looks defeated and points at the girl he was talking to, declaring, “She was trying to get over her ex and find someone to make a sextape with.” he sighs, “tonight’s not my night.”

“There’s plenty fishes in the sea,” Riki comforts him, gripping your lower back.

Sunghoon gets closer, taking the spot Jungwon vacated, “Only one fish I want anyway.” he looks at you when he says that, then back at Riki, “Where did Heeseung and Won go?”

Jake intervenes, “They’re outside to grab some air.”

“Bro, they can’t come back inside if they go out. Are they fucking stupid?” Sunghoon scoffs, looking around and squinting towards the exit.

At the same exact moment your phone buzzes in your purse, vibrating on your sides. You slip your hand inside and grab it, it’s Jungwon.

“Yo, no one’s picking up their phone. The bouncer won’t let us come in again.” you hear him, his voice muffled with the sound of the music.

And yes, that’s the story of how you all end up on the sidewalk, sitting side by side on a line just because the dumbfucks couldn’t ask the bouncer for information before going out. Heeseung’s been apologizing profusely and you tell him it’s not his fault everytime, that it’s all good and you were tired anyway.

News flash you weren’t, you were just getting started. But can’t win em all.

It’s quickly forgotten about when Heeseung suggests you all come to his place for some drinks. Everyone accepts happily, except well….Sunoo and Haejin who look at each other and clear their throats.

But before they can say anything, the party host scrambles towards them.

“Yes you guys can just go home and fuck like rabbits. Trust me we know.” he slurs on unsteady feet.

There’s a silence before everyone snorts including Haejin and Sunoo who instinctively get closer now that the ‘secret’s’ out.

“We all knew, you guys are obvious as fuck.” Sunghoon states, smiling widely.

You part your ways and head to Heeseung’s small apartment conveniently located a couple blocks away from the nightclub. The whole way Riki and Jungwon have to hold him so he doesn’t trip although he says he’s not that drunk. Once you’re in front of his building he struggles to get his keys out and Jake has to dig in his back pocket to find them. “Stop touching my ass man.” Heeseung giggles, swatting his hand away when he gets the keys out.

When he manages to open the door, Heeseung stumbles inside and calls the elevator. You look around at the group of men encircling you and feel like the world’s biggest slut, anyone who would see this would think you’re a total whore and whatever other prejudiced words they can come up with.

But in truth, you don’t really care all that much, you like being slutty at times, it’s fun and doesn’t harm the environment anyway.

When the doors open to the second floor, Jake already prepares the keys to open Heeseung’s door. He waits for him to sign which one is his and quickly works it open.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” Heeseung mumbles as he kicks off his shoes in the entryway. The apartment is spotless so you don’t even know what mess he’s talking about.

Probably the mess in your panties—

“Yeah you’re drunk man, go to sleep,” Riki chuckles, pushing him towards the hallway like he knows the house.

“I’m not even tired, gimme some water, I’ll just shower and sober up,” the man groans like a child, holding onto the wall.

You grab the first bottle water of bottle you see on the kitchen counter and uncap it, handing it to him. When you realize he’s not even gonna be able to drink it, you push it to his mouth, one hand cupped under his chin and you tilt the bottle. Heeseung’s heavy eyes are on you while he drinks. “So pretty,” he mumbles when he’s done, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, get line,” Jungwon pushes him playfully.

Riki escorts him to bed, but not before Heeseung makes a point of kissing your cheek and exclusively telling you goodnight. You pat his hair and watch him get carried away to his bedroom with a fond smile.

“Alright let’s see where he keeps his booze,” Sunghoon starts looking through his friend’s drawers, in the kitchen too. When he finally finds his stash of alcohol he holds a bottle of vodka to his chest. “This motherfucker only has cheap stuff.”

“That’ll do,” Riki snatches the bottle from him when he comes back, one hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer.

Once seated on the couch, you all get comfortable, Sunghoon props his socked feet on the coffee table ontop of Hee’s electricity bills and yawns as he stretches. Jake finds the fluffy armchair in the middle of the living room while you sit between Jungwon and Riki and uncap the vodka bottle, pouring it in little plastic cups they’ve found in the kitchen. You hand them to the four boys, not in the mood to drink yourself. Riki drops a kiss yo your cheek as a thank you, obviously mocking Heeseung earlier.

“It’s a fail for everyone except those bastards Haejin and Sunoo,” Sunghoon sighs into his cup, emptying it in seconds.

His arms flex as he puts it on the coffee table and you find yourself looking at his biceps, or him in general. The way his body is sculpted, the shape of his broad shoulders, everything looks good—it’s something he has in common with the three other boys, they’re all equally handsome everywhere.

“Speak for yourself,” Riki mutters, eyes bored on the side of your face, one hand on your thigh. When you turn to look at him he smirks, emptying his cup in one gulp.

“Yeah just go ahead and fuck right then and there you bastards,” Sunghoon groans, frustrated.

“You’re jealous as fuck Hoon,” the boy holding your thigh teases, shooting him a playful look. “Should‘ve gone with the sextape girl.”

“I’d rather choke, I’lll just live vicariously through you man, it’s okay.” he cringes at the thought, dusting off his perfectly clean t shirt.

There’s a silence before you decide to be extremely unhinged. You turn to look at Sunghoon through your lashes and you joke, “Don’t you want the real thing?”

There’s a long moment. You think you’ve said something dumb when you see Sunghoon’s mouth open and close, but when he presses his palms to his face and groans you melt in your seat. “Don’t say that y/n.” he breathes out, a little desperate in all honesty.

“What’s wrong with what she said?” Riki teases, a smug smile on his face as he squeezes your thigh.

Jake looks at you from the armchair, shifting in his seat, he looks like he’s heard the craziest thing ever, his boba eyes widening by the second. Jungwon’s also gazing thoughtfully at you, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking or not. Although you originally were, their reaction only fuels the inner monologue you’ve been having these days, until you’re not entirely sure you’re fooling around anymore.

“Did you even hear her man??” Sunghoon replies, man spreading on the couch like he owns it. “Y/n you can’t be saying that. It’s not even funny.”

“I wasn’t even joking though,” you shrug, looking at him innocently, although the smirk on your mouth tells a whole different story.

Riki cups your chin and tilts your head towards him, eyes already zeroing in on your lips. His tongue darts out to wet his own, plump lips parting and lower one going between his teeth.

“Don’t even bother, I think he doesn’t want to,” he teases, giving Sunghoon a taunting look before focusing back on you. “I’ll take care of you baby, how’s that sound?”

You swear you hear Jake’s hitch from his spot but before you can turn your head to verify, Riki wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you closer until his lips are merely inches away from yours. The bastard looks you right in the eye and gives you that haunting playful smirk before he dives in. His lips melt into yours and without giving it much thought he parts them, tongue slipping in your mouth in a filthy kiss. Riki’s fingers tighten around your neck, making it a point to make you moan for him, so his friends can only marvel at the sight. You gasp into the kiss, tongue dancing with his, all the while his other hand snakes down to your hips and tugs you closer, almost on his lap.

You couldn’t even hear the rest of the world if you wanted, your ears ringing with how bad you want this. It feels exhilarating to know you’re being watched, three pairs of eyes burning into your skin from all sides of the room. It only seems to pump Riki meaner, his hand squeezing your throat until you’re dizzy and moaning into the kiss, it’s the perfect amount of pressure, not too much just enough to render you a mess.

“Sound so fucking pretty,” Riki rasps as he lets go of your lips and finds a spot on your neck to suck on.

Your eyes open and you find all three men staring right at you, as expected. Jake’s frozen, his mouth slightly ajar and his hands gripping the leather of the armchair. Sunghoon doesn’t have his hands on his face anymore, he’s got them gripping his thighs, jaw clenched. And Jungwon looks wrecked, the paper cup crumpled in his hand as he fights the urge to reach and join.

When Riki sucks a dark spot in your neck, your lips part and the moan you let out makes all three boys tense in their seats. “That’s right baby, let them hear.” you feel Riki’s smirk against your skin.

“You’re not playing fair man,” Jungwon groans, captivated by the sound of your pleasure.

Riki let’s go of your skin with a wet pop, “What do you think baby, am I being fair?”

You smile dizzily, “I did tell Sunghoon he could have the real thing and he didn’t even answer, so I guess you’re being fair.”

The latter instantly protests, “I thought you were joking y/n, I didn’t think you—”

You cut him by getting up on wobbly feet and making it in front of him, before he even knows what’s happening you’re climbing on his lap. “This okay?” you whisper in his ear as you fully settle, legs bracketing his.

When his arms instantly wrap around you, the answer is made clear. Sunghoon nods, looking at you like a divinity, “Could’ve already been doing this a long time ago.” he states, pulling closer until youre snug right against his core.

“You should’ve said something then,” you smile against his jaw then nip at his earlobe until he shivers. You feel the other men’s eyes on your body as you start moving in Sunghoon’s lap, grinding down on the front of his pants. “Should’ve kissed me right on the break room couch that other day.”

Sunghoon lets out a breathy laugh, gripping your hips as he fights for his composure, he’s about to say something but Jungwon beats him to it, “You had a chance and fucked it up, how stupid can you be.”

With his foot, Sunghoon kicks the other man’s leg, trying to focus solely on your beautiful face, “As far as I know you didn’t make a move either.”

“He’s right, you should have too,” you lean towards Jungwon, still on his friend’s lap, and you catch his expecting lips in a kiss.

He tastes like vodka when his tongue slips into your mouth. He’s a messy kisser, all tongue and teeth, biting your lip occasionally. You feel Sunghoon’s cock throb in his pants and moan into Jungwon’s mouth at the feeling.

“Jake man, come closer. Come watch her.” Riki tells him, beckoning with a curled finger.

You hear him get up before he takes the spot you vacated earlier, eyes a physical weight on your body. Sunghoon bucks his hips to remind you of whose lap you’re on, his hands come down to your ass, wanting you so much closer than humanly possible and your reply by rocking your hips on him, indulging in the friction. It feels so good, Jungwon’s tongue caressing yours, Sunghoon’s thick cock practically begging to be taken out and the other boys looking like they don’t wanna miss a single second of it.

When you break the kiss, your lips are connected to his by a string of saliva that breaks when you look at Jake, beckoning him closer. He stands up ever so obediently and walks over to you. From where you sit you have to look up at him, the sight only making the problem in his pants harder, you trace a path up his thighs and cups him through his pants. “Gimme kiss,” you practically purr.

Jake nearly folds like trash origami, his hips buck to meet your hand and when you finally kiss him he melts. You go slower with him, tongue grazing his in a tantalizing way, you give his clothed cock a squeeze and he whimpers in your mouth, needy as ever. When you break the kiss he chases your lips, cheeks a deep red and lips shiny.

“Sit down and watch.” you order, not even doubting he’ll do as he’s told.

When Jake sinks down to the floor, you look at the man whose lap you’re sitting on and grin, wiggling on his aching dick. Sunghoon’s eyes follow your wandering hands as you cup him through his pants and tug at the zipper, when asked he lifts up his hips and lets you take his cock out. His is incredibly thick, smaller than Riki’s but impossibly thick you’re sure your fingers wouldn’t fully touch if wrapped around it. To test that theory you put you grab him and it’s with no surprise that you note your fingers don’t touch around the base.

“Can’t even wrap my hand around it Hoonie,” you say in a small voice, giving him a light stroke that makes his hips jolt. You take his own hand in yours and bring it to his leaking cock. “Show me how you do it.”

To your side, Riki and Jungwon are breathing harder, the latter palming the bulge in his jeans, both their eyes stuck on you like you’re some sort of succubus. But when Sunghoon’s hand wraps around his cock, it’s Jake who nearly whimpers. You look over to him and cup his chin, pulling him closer so he can get a better view. “You wanna see so bad baby?”

Jake nods vehemently and swallows hardly, “You look so pretty like that,”

You lean back and drop a kiss to his lips, licking them while you get back to Sunghoon. He’s steadily pumping himself now, fingers on his balls while he thrusts in the crease between his thumb and pointer finger. “Fuck,” he groans, “put your hand on me.”

You cover his own hand with yours, tightening his grip on his cock and move it up and down, guiding the friction. You collect the precum with your palm and use it as lubricant for your strokes. Sunghoon focuses on the base while you pump the tip, your hands slick and meeting each time you glide. It’s filthy—even more so when you spit on his tip and his cock twitches, his head throwing back in utter agony. You use your saliva and tighten your grip, thumb rubbing his head while the other works with his own. Riki’s unbuckled his jeans by now, palming himself while patiently waiting for his turn.

“F-fuck,” Sunghoon pants, a slave to his pleasure now. “Jungwon come here, use her mouth”

His friend gets up as quickly as possible and travels to the side of the couch where he stands, gaze bored on your hand working. “Cmere baby, open up,” he encourages as his thumb settles on your lower lip, pushing past it.

You lick around his thumb, suckling as your hand goes faster on Sunghoon’s cock. Jungwon hums in admiration as his other hand quickly undoes his jeans and lets them drop to his knees. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth now, okay?” he taunts, boxers tugged down as well.

Jungwon’s cock is long, a thin patch of hair leading from his lower stomach to it, and it stands proudly, leaking so much that’s it’s made a stain on his boxers. When you nod, he doesn’t seem to think it’s enough and shakes his head disapprovingly.

“What did I teach you baby?” Riki intervenes, delivering a light slap to your ass. “You gotta use your words.”

You nod again, a soft ‘yes’ coming out of your parted lips. Sunghoon practically thrusts into his and your hand, making a mess of precum on his stomach. But before you can even wipe it off, Jungwon presses his cock against your lips, rubbing his own precum all over them until they look plump and like you’ve put gloss on. The moment he pushes his dick past your lips, you swear you feel Sunghoon’s heartbeat in his cock. Airs gone rancid by now, all three of them watching Jungwon’s length fit perfectly inside your mouth, his breathing hacking out wet.

“Mmh, fuck… look at you baby, look at those pretty lips,” he groans, cupping your face almost tenderly if it wasn’t for the other hand tangling in your hair and pulling slightly.

Your eyes roll back behind your closed lids and you suck him in, hollowing out your cheeks before letting him go with a pop and resuming with messy licks. You practically makeout with his tip, suckling on it, licking each and every side until his thighs tense, you don’t stop until the room fills with filthy sounds. Your fingers keep working Sunghoon’s dick all the while, tangling with his own in a wet mess under Riki’s approving gaze.

“Look at you…” he hums, sneaking behind you to drop a kiss on your bare shoulder. His tongue traces a path up to your neck and sucks a dark spot, causing you to moan around Jungwon’s tip. “You’re so good at this, look at Sunghoon baby, he’s gone already.”

Your eyes find him below you, his head is thrown back, eyes wild and wanton, hand working through his own pleasure like he’s drunk on it. Jungwon’s hips shift until he’s practically fully sheathed in your mouth, regaining your attention. He tugs at your hair—noticing how eager you get when he does it—and one of his hands goes to your ass so he can lift up the hem of your dress. He smirks at Jake who—if he’s being honest—feels terribly lonely on the floor, and delivers a sharp smack to your bare ass.

Jake watches the flesh move with the echo of Jungwon’s slap and fights to not burry his face in between your sweet thighs. You swallow around the man’s cock, a ring of saliva forming and dripping down your chin, making a proper mess of your collarbone in the process, Riki resumes his his taunting kisses on your neck and one hand comes to squeeze that ass he loves so much.

He hooks a finger in your thong, tugs at it only to watch it snap back in place, “Such a pretty ass, you’re just pretty all over aren’t you?”

Riki’s mouth travels up to your jaw and cheek, and when he gets close enough, he licks around your mouth to clean the mess of saliva you’ve made. Jungwon actually freezes for a second, seeing how close he is to his dick, but the low groan he emits says a lot about how he feels.

“Messy girl,” the youngest teases, licking his own lips while stroking your ass cheek. You’re so lost in pleasure you start rocking your hips against Sunghoon’s thighs, which he notices by the way his breathing gets shallower and his mouth hangs open.

Your mouth leaves Won with a pop and you look back at Jake, miserably sitting on the floor, gazing up at you like admiring a painting. “You can touch me baby, go ahead.” you tell him, lips curling into a cheeky smile.

It doesn’t take more than a millisecond for his hands to be on your ass along with Riki’s. Jake kisses his way up your spine, sending shivers all over you body, he traces every ridge of every bone and makes it a point to let you know you are beautiful and wanted. Your head lolls, fingers loosing cadence on Sunghoon’s cock—but fear not, he wraps his own around yours and guides them up and down the slick length with a low groan.

“Can I taste you, please?” Jake looks up at you with those boba eyes and those thick lashes, “Let me make you feel good.”

You suddenly get up off of Sunghoon’s lap, leaving him breathless, cock twitching and eyebrows furrowed, Jungwon’s stroking himself lazily, watching your every move. When you sink down on the floor and push Jake to a lying position, Riki hums approvingly.

You straddle his lap, your lips find his chest and place sparse tender kisses all the way to his pale neck, you only give him a taste of your mouth before shifting. The man waits with wide eyes that get even wider the second your thighs bracket his face, but when you’re done hovering and sit down, Jake whimpers. You settle your your full weight down onto his mouth, his nose is buried against your clit, his lips sealed around you, and every time he exhales you feel the warm rush of his breath against your soaked cunt.

You’re dripping onto his tongue, you feel it all over, your thong when Jake pulls it aside and it hits your skin. You look up at the others, quite proud of the hold you seem to have on them, and you beckon Riki to come closer. He doesn’t even wait, he knows exactly what’s his to take and so in a swift movement, his pants are discarded on the floor along with his calvin kleins.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes out, one hand twisting your hair in a loose ponytail. His cock throbs at the sight of you on your knees and just as he’s about to press it to your lips, you lift a finger.

It’s a shameless move, and you’re not sure how you’re going to manage but you call Sunghoon over. He rises from the sofa like he’s been waiting for the invitation, cock still flushed and shiny from your earlier attention, the head glistening as he steps closer. Riki’s grip in your hair tightens just enough to tilt your face up, and the second Sunghoon is within reach you open your mouth for him.

He slides in slow, letting you feel every thick inch while Jake’s tongue works greedily beneath you. It’s so tantalizingly good that every part of you is set aflame, the heavy length of Sunghoon stretching your lips while Jake’s mouth seals tighter around your cunt, nose pressed firm against your clit. You moan around the cock in your mouth and the vibration makes Sunghoon’s hips stutter.

“Fuck,” he breathes, one hand coming to rest at the back of your head. “Look at you go…”

Riki watches with pleased eyes, still stroking himself slowly beside you. Jungwon has moved closer too, standing just off to the side, fist wrapped loosely around his cock as he drinks in the sight of you—mouth full, ass still marked faintly from earlier. You love it, you’ve never felt so full—albeit technically totally empty.

Jake’s hands come up to grip your hips, pulling you down harder onto his tongue and he licks into you like he’s starving for it in messy strokes that make your thighs tremble. Every time you rock forward to take Sunghoon deeper, you grind down onto Jake’s face, smearing yourself across his mouth and chin. He loves it though, you can see his hips buck in the air, waiting for some kind of friction.

You pull off Sunghoon’s cock just long enough to catch your breath, a string of saliva still connecting your bottom lip to the head. “Don’t just stand there,” you tell Jungwon, voice rough. “Come here.”

Needless to say he steps in immediately. You wrap your free hand around him, stroking in time with the way you sink your mouth back down onto Sunghoon and Riki’s fingers stay twisted in your hair, guiding the rhythm.

The latter leans in close to your ear, “You’re soaking him, baby. Poor Jake can barely breathe and he’s still trying to get his tongue deeper.” He nips at your earlobe. “You gonna come on his face while you’ve got Sunghoon’s cock down your throat?”

The words send a violent pulse straight between your legs. Jake moans against you like he heard them too, the sound vibrating through your cunt, and your thighs tighten around his head. Sunghoon’s breath is getting ragged above you, every time you hollow your cheeks he curses under his breath like he’s about to combust.

Jungwon’s hand covers yours on his cock, showing you the exact pace he wants, the exact twits of your hand he prefers, while his other hand reaches down to squeeze your breast through the half-open dress. You’re surrounded—mouths and hands on every side—and the only thing you can do is take it.

You roll your hips harder against Jake’s face, chasing the building pressure, and he answers by sucking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue against it in quick strokes.

The pleasure coils tight and low in your stomach, and you’re not even sure when was the last time you’ve felt so good. You’re so close it almost hurts —thighs shaking, breath coming in sorts of short gasps around the cock in your mouth.

As for Sunghoon, he’s been hard for so long already, twitching against your tongue every time you hollow your cheeks, and you can taste how close he is. His hand tightens at the back of your head, hips starting to push forward in these little aborted thrusts like he can’t help it anymore.

Riki’s still got your hair in his fist, watching everything with that smug smirk. “Look at Sunghoon,” he murmurs against your ear, “he’s been leaking since you first touched him. Poor thing’s about to lose it.”

You moan around the cock in your mouth and the vibration makes Sunghoon’s whole body jolt. You can tell he wants to say something to Riki, prideful as always, but he’s cut short by the force of his pleasure. Jake’s hands squeeze your thighs harder, pulling you down so his nose is crushed against you, tongue fucking into your cunt like he’s trying to get every drop. The pressure on your clit is perfect and so constant that you feel the coil in your stomach snap.

Your thighs shake hard around his head as you come, grinding down onto his mouth with broken little whimpers that vibrate around Sunghoon. They all watch you with hooded eyes, mesmerized while you’re dripping onto Jake’s tongue, pulsing against his lips, and he just keeps licking through it like he doesn’t need air. The pleasure rolls through you in heavy waves, making your fingers tighten around Jungwon and your throat flutter around Sunghoon.

That’s what pushes the latter over.

“Oh fuck, y/n…” he groans, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, “I’m gonna—”

He curses under his breath, hips stuttering, and then the next you know he’s cumming hard down your throat with hot pulses that you have to swallow around because he’s buried so deep. His hand fists in your hair, holding you there while he empties into your mouth, dick throbbing heavily against your tongue. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, the way every spurt seems to drag another wrecked sound out of him.

Jake, him, is still lapping at you through the aftershocks, messy and eager as usual, while Riki strokes himself faster at the sight of Sunghoon’s hips jerking and your throat working. Jungwon’s breathing is ragged beside you, watching his friend’s face like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

When you finally pull off Sunghoon’s cock a string of saliva and cum connects your bottom lip to the head, and he looks completely gone—eyes an endless pit of darkness, mouth hanging open.

Riki laughs quietly, thumb brushing the corner of your messy mouth. “Good girl,”

But nobody had time to say anything or resume any movement because it suddenly comes to your attention that someone is standing at the door.

“Why does everyone always leave me out of things?” says a tired voice.

Heeseung has his fists clenched like a little kid getting out of bed to warn his parents he threw up, he glares at the boys but his eyes soften once he sees you still sitting on his friends face like it’s the most normal thing.

“You were drunk, man.” Riki clarifies, his cock lying untouched on his stomach.

“Couldn’t have you waited until I sobered up? Oh my god, in my own apartment bro.” the man groans, pointing to himself, “I’m sober now, i slept it off.”

“I don’t think it works like that man,” Jake says, muffled from under your cunt. You quickly get off him, wiping the cum from off your mouth. “I’m pretty sure it takes like 8 hours to sober up.”

Heeseung pulls out his phone while everyone sits back down, you put your dress back on your ass and sit on the floor, stroking Jake’s thigh. “Let’s fact check then, motherfucker. Cause I feel pretty sober right now seeing you guys leave me out like that.”

He does a quick google search, eyebrows raised like he’s sure he’s gonna make a point, and once he has the answer he says, “Hah. See?” he holds out his phone presenting a random page about alcohol and consent. “Nobody even asked me if I consented to it, you guys just did your thing without me. How sad is that.”

You snort, amused, and grab his phone to scroll down the article, your eyes quickly scanning the words. “I mean, he doesn’t seem confused, he’s not slurring, or behaving unusually.” you turn to him, “Do you want to join?”

Heeseung nods avidly, hair bouncing with the force of his agreement. But you cock your head, “Are you sure?” you ask him, “Spell my name backwards then count to 20.”

Jungwon chuckles, sitting next to Riki, and he watches with amusement as the former drunk spells your name backwards perfectly and counts to twenty.

Heeseung still looks a little wounded even after doing it without a single stumble, so you decide right then you’re going to make it up to him. You signal him with a tilt of your chin toward the couch and he sits without question, thighs spreading just enough for you to drop to your knees between them.

You lean in slow, nuzzling the soft skin of his inner thigh first, then higher, mouthing over the thick outline trapped in his pants. When you finally free him, the head is already shiny and leaking, it makes you wonder how long he’s truly wanted this. You take your time, tongue flattening against the underside in lazy strokes before you finally sink down, lips stretching around him.

Heeseung’s hand finds the back of your head almost immediately, fingers threading into your hair, not to push, just holding on like he needs the anchor. His breath keeps hitching every time you hollow your cheeks and drag up slow, the way he looks at his friends says a lot about how good this feels for him.

Jake drops onto the couch right next to him, close enough that their shoulders brush and their knees knock. But you’re so focused on the wet slide of your mouth that you almost miss the moment their faces tilt toward each other. It starts as a brush of lips, hesitant and questioning, then deeper, tongues meeting. You don’t even notice how it starts, but the next thing you know, they’re fully going at it, tongue and all.

The second they realie what they’re doing, though, they jerk apart like they’ve been burned, eyes wide, both of them flushing hard.

Jungwon’s already there, one hand on the back of each of their necks, shoving their heads together again with zero hesitation.

“Who the fuck cares if you’re boys,” he says, voice low and amused, “just kiss each other.”

You moan around Heeseung’s cock at the sight, the vibration making him twitch hard against your tongue. Jake’s cock is still untouched in his pants, a heavy line straining the fabric, but Heeseung’s hand is already there, palm rubbing over it through the material while they kiss again, messier this time, like the words unlocked something.

Heeseung doesn’t last. You feel the warning pulse, the way his thighs tense under your palms, and then he’s spilling across your tongue with a broken sound, hips stuttering. You suspect the sensations were only heightened by the feeling of Jake’s tongue and that makes your thighs squeeze together. He cradles your cheek after, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where a little cum has escaped, eyes soft and a little dazed as he watches you swallow.

Nishimura Riki’s been quiet long enough.

“My turn,” he announces, sitting on the floor and offering you a hand. He makes a whole show of it—turning you so everyone can see, peeling the dress up your body inch by inch like he’s unwrapping something expensive, then hooking his fingers in the thin strings of your thong and dragging it down your legs so slowly it almost hurts.

When you’re bare he pulls you into his lap, ass up and facing the others so you’re presented to the room.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, hands spreading you open for them. “So fucking pretty like this.” He spits, the warmth landing right on your cunt, then uses two fingers to smear it around, circling your clit before pushing inside slow. “Already dripping for us again. Taking it so well.”

The others are stroking themselves while they watch—Sunghoon and Jungwon on either side, Jake and Heeseung still half-tangled. It’s no surprise when you notice Heeseung’s hand now fully inside Jake’s open fly, working him slow and unashamed. Riki keeps fingering you, dirty little praises spilling out under his breath, spreading your cheeks until you have to brace on the floor, face down.

A couple minutes after he’s lifting you like a ragdoll, both hands under your arms as he makes you straddle him, he finally lines up but only then does it occur to him how irresponsible this is.

“Condom?” he asks Heeseung, snapping his fingers at him.

The bastard doesn’t even hear, too engrossed in Jake’s kisses, his hand wrapped around his cock tugging lazily. Riki throws a discarded pillow at him, and his head snaps up.

“Condom man.” he repeats.

Quickly, Heeseung finds a stash of condoms in his cabinets and throws one at his friend who diligently tears it open and puts it on. You line yourself with his length and wrapping your arms around his neck you rub your sopping cunt against his tip. “Tssk, stop moving baby, you know how I get when you tease.” Riki warns with a click of his tongue.

When he sinks in in one long thrust, Riki doesnt even give you time to adjust, he grips your hips and guides you into a steady ride.

“Fuck… that’s it, mama. You gonna ride me like you did last time in the phone booth?” he rasps.

Sunghoon’s head snaps up, “You fucked in the pods???”

Riki only chuckles smugly and bucks up hard enough to punch a moan out of you, “and she liked it, didn’t you baby?” he squeezes your cheeks together and plants a kiss on your mouth.

“Mmh, yes.” you whimper mindlessly, just enjoying yourself, eyes closed with abandon.

You feel Sunghoon and Jungwon move closer, so you do what a professional multitasker does, you take one in each hand, stroking them in time with the roll of your hips, then lean to the side to suck Sunghoon deep before switching to Jungwon, alternating until your jaw aches in the best way. Riki just keeps thrusting up, filling you perfectly, hands roaming your waist, your tits, your throat until there’s no part of you left untouched.

Jake and Heeseung are practically seconds away from fucking—the latter has Jake’s cock fully out now, stroking him while they kiss like they’re starving, both of them flushed and clearly a lily embarrassed about how far they’ve gone. You catch Jake’s eye over your shoulder and smile, voice rough from the cock previously in your mouth.

“There’s no judgment here. Go ahead. I know you want it, Jakey.”

It acts as some sort of approval for him because the next second he’s out eating Heeseung’s mouth again. You start riding Riki faster, hips snapping down harder, chasing the thick stretch of him.

But all the while, your eyes stay locked on Heeseung and Jake—watching the way their hands wrap around each other’s cocks, stroking in desperate rhythm while they keep kissing like they can’t stop. Every time their mouths meet you clench around Riki without meaning to.

He notices, ever so attentive.

Riki’s hands come up and grab your cheeks, squeezing them together so your lips pout, forcing you to look at him while he thrusts up to meet every drop of your hips.

“Look at you,” he groans, voice rough. “I can feel your cunt clench around me when they kiss. Dirty girl… does that turn you on?”

You nod desperately, a broken little sound escaping as he keeps fucking up into you. “I knew it. My dirty girl likes to watch, huh?” Riki rasps, fucking you stupid.

Jungwon’s already kneeling next to you, close enough that his breath hits your skin. He leans in and mouths at your neck, sucking soft marks while his hand works his own length in tight strokes—desperate for the release he’s been holding onto all night. His free hand finds your breast, thumb brushing over the nipple before he ducks lower and takes it into his mouth, sucking hard. His moans vibrate around your peaks, and your little sounds of pleasure only seem to pump him meaner, to the point where his teeth graze them now.

Riki’s thrusts turn sharper, angling just right, and the pressure builds too fast. You can’t even think, saliva gulped down in a mewl as he fills you over and over again. You moan his name over and over, gripping his arms, “Please, fuck.. Im so close, please.”

Your begging only entice him more, his hips n snap up until he’s grazing your cervix. Air’s gone thick with the stink of want, everyone caught up in some sort of trance.

Out of the blue, you find yourself coming for the second time that night with a shaky cry, walls fluttering and squeezing around him. The way you sound is enough to tip Jungwon over the edge as he spills hot across your thigh with a muffled groan against your tit, still sucking like he can’t let go.

You feel Riki empty inside the condom, gripping your ass and muttering your name again and again, mouth hanging open. He’s undoubtedly having one of the best orgasms he’s ever had, if he’s not counting the delicious one in the phone booth, that is.

Across the couch Heeseung and Jake follow almost at the same time, making each other come in a mess of wet kisses and shaky hands, both of them panting into each other’s mouths as they paint each other’s stomachs and fists.

Your legs give out, unable to catch up. You slump forward onto Riki’s chest, still so full of him, forehead mashed to his collarbone while he wraps both arms around you and holds you there. It’s almost tender if it wasn’t for the stench of sex and the loud panting of men.

“You did so good,” Riki murmurs into your hair, one hand stroking slow up and down your spine. “So fucking good for us.”

Everyone’s quiet for a minute, just catching their breath and their minds as well. Then there are gentle hands everywhere.

Jungwon wipes the mess off your thigh with careful fingers before pressing soft kisses along the same path. Sunghoon brings a warm cloth and cleans between your legs while Riki is still inside you, murmuring quiet praise the whole time. Heeseung and Jake lean in from either side, kissing your shoulders, your neck, the corners of your mouth, whispering how pretty you looked, how perfect you felt.

They take turns kissing your body like they’re worshipping every inch. It’s safe to say your body is sore, but your body could use more. That’s why even after witnessed them cleaning you up, you lift yourself off of Riki’s lap and walk over to Sunghoon.

“More,” you simply say against his chest.

And heck if he indulges.

rüe’s a/n : okay i’m sorry if it’s messy, took me a while to finish this one so the endings a bit rushed. reblogs and feedback is appreciated! 💗if the plots all over the place it’s cause it’s a smut originally so i didn’t really think about the plot that much. taglist: @waeclr @whymsikl

which one of them do you think y/n should go out with? unbiased😭

jake

sunghoon

riki (my personal choice)

jungwon

heeseung

jay

her first girl customer

Voting ended onAug 16

[dearwalker]

mask on, fuck it, mask off | sex pollen

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader Word Count: 8.4k

Contains Brand New Day spoilers 🕸️

Description: You’re spider-man’s closest thing to a friend since the world forgot his name. Helping him with gadgets, cleaning his wounds…all without him ever taking the mask off. His true identity has always been a barrier between you two, but what happens when he gets hit with the pollen, and not only him, but the creature lurking inside him fixates on the only person he gets to call home?

Tags/warnings: sex pollen smut, fem!reader, porn with plot, whiny desperate peter >>>, dry humping, piv, riding, oral fem!rec, fingering, dark!peter taking over for a bit, orgasm denial, prone bone, so much yearning, mask stays on…or does it?

Note: You have no idea how giddy it makes me to write him again. He had NO business looking that good in the movie so I had to get this out of my system. Enjoy 🤍

Masterlist

You've seen spiderman hurt many times. When you signed the lease of the first apartment you could afford as a recent graduate, you never thought that would become your new normal. 

The first time it happened was completely accidental. He’d arrived at the building in the middle of the night, bruised, bleeding and too disoriented to realize that the window he’d come through was not his. 

That night, the noise of a heavy body collapsing onto the floor woke you up. For one terrifying moment, you believed someone had broken into your apartment, only to switch on the lamp and find the city’s superhero groaning and pressing his hands to his side. His suit was torn there, and blood soaked through the ruined fabric onto your rug. 

He barely lifted his head when he heard you gasp, the lens of his mask focusing on your figure standing there with wide eyes, wearing only an oversized shirt.

“Wrong window,” he choked, then tried to hold himself up but immediately collapsed again. “Dammit,” he cursed, waiting for you to freak out any second now. 

You could have, but instead you rushed to him and knelt beside him.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Your hands hovered helplessly over his body, trying to see how bad the damage was in the dark. “You need a hospital–”

“No!” He snapped, trying to turn away but failing miserably. “I’ll be fine, I heal quickly.”

“You still need to stop the bleeding,” you countered, folding your knees under your body so you could rest on your calves. “Listen, I can help you. I took some medical courses last year and I have a kit somewhere.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes. He’d saved the city so many times, the fucking world, it was the least you could do to give something back. 

He considered his options for a second, and to be honest he didn’t have many. His body was betraying him, and he couldn’t even get up to fix it himself like usual. 

The blood loss made him nod, and you wasted no time in getting up and finding said kit. The blood loss also made him drift in and out of consciousness as you tended to the wounds on his ribs as much as you could. 

It did not make him less cautious of you though. When you noticed the rip on his mask over a nasty gash on his neck and reached for it, his hand closed around your wrist and even half conscious, his grip was strong. 

“Please,” he whispered. Pleaded. “Keep it on.” 

The fear in his voice made you promise you would. Even if you couldn’t get to that gash properly. Even when he fell asleep on your floor and didn’t wake up for six whole hours. 

The next morning, he opened his eyes and found you sitting on your bed, still staring at him. 

His hands patted his chest, and confirmed his arachnid powers had done its job and healed him mostly. But most importantly, his mask was still in place. With no warning from E.V of it being removed. He learned that you’d spent the night making sure he was still breathing without seeing his face. 

That had been one year ago. 

After thanking you profoundly for helping him, he’d repaired your window, apologized several times, and disappeared into the apartment next door. He then considered moving into another building, but the thought was brushed away very quickly when he remembered the balance in his bank account. 

So he acted more careful instead. For a while, he only turned back home when your curtains were already closed, or he only left the apartment when you had already left for your job (because yes, he absolutely researched the hell out of you after that night.)

Then he moved to the attic of the building. Bigger space, no neighbors, no risks. No you. Or at least he thought. 

Because some nights…some delirious nights he still found your window a few stories down, and the accidental visits became less accidental. When he was too badly injured to care for himself, he came to you, even after you confessed your degree had nothing to do with medicine. 

When he noticed you understood about his equipment malfunctioning, he’d bring it for you to inspect. When he became too reckless with himself you talked his ear off about how being difficult to kill did not make him immortal.

Somewhere along the way, you became spiderman’s friend. 

Spiderman was safer. With you, spiderman was the only part of him he could let you see. Because that was the thing, you only knew the masked superhero. 

He’d spent so much time blocking away his identity, making peace with the fact that there was no longer anyone in the world who would call him Peter and know exactly who that person was. That name only belonged to the people that once knew him, and no longer existed, so he never gave it to you.

Never showed you more than a sliver of skin when his mask rode up or glimpses of his abdomen when you tended to his wounds. He always kept that barrier and you respected it, even on those nights he was too weak to stop you. Even if sometimes not knowing the color of his eyes kept you up at night. 

A promise was a promise. 

Maybe that’s why he kept coming. Why he trusted you with a certainty he couldn’t understand. Why he eventually showed you his new living quarters in the attic and let you spend time with him. Why half a year ago, he added another chair next to his desk so you could work together, or help him when he was out patrolling and needed an extra set of eyes.

“I’m officially the girl in the chair, spidey,” you joked that time as you sat next to him, spinning around in your chair.

He’d gone quiet immediately, his body tensing up enough to make you frown, but then managed a small smile and said you were. You pretended you didn’t notice him being too quiet as he worked on his inhibitor after that. 

He was wearing a hoodie, sweatpants and the mask. Always the mask that didn’t quite let you see through him. After a moment of quiet, you rolled your chair closer to his and nudged his arm playfully. 

“You know I can’t keep calling you spidey forever, right?” 

He snapped out of his trance, and the chuckle that came from under the fabric was unmistakable. 

“Why not?” He nudged your arm back, but still focused on the device he was hunched over. “I like spidey.”

You put your elbow on the desk, resting your cheek on your hand so you could lean a little closer. 

“I like it too, but it feels ridiculous after having my hands all over your body almost every night.” 

The moment the words left your lips, you realized how bad that sounded. He straightened up, turning toward you.

“Wow.” Even if you couldn’t see the smile on his face, the lenses of his mask were quite expressive sometimes. He was amused. 

“That came out very wrong,” you said immediately, before he bursted into laughter. He had been laughing more since you entered his life. “You know what I meant,” you whined, laughing too with heat flooding your cheeks. 

“I think I know,” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes. 

“I’m being serious though,” you added, a little more quietly. “You don’t have to say your real name. Just give me something.”

“Mmm…” he acted like has considering it, going back to tinkering with the piece of metal between his fingers, but then his eyes drifted to the flowers he’d bought that morning, and the name came out of his lips before he could think twice about it. “You can call me Maynard.” 

“Maynard?” You repeated, suppressing a chuckle. “You don’t sound like a Maynard. That’s like an 80 year old man’s name.”

“That’s all I can give you,” he shrugged playfully. 

You had a feeling it went deeper than that, but you’d also learned not to push it with him. 

“Alright. Maynard,” you nodded, “but don’t expect me to use that name unless you’re dying. Guess I’ll stick to spidey for now,” you chuckled, going back to your own work as he hummed in agreement. 

The conversation ended there. With him trying not to think about your hands all over his body in…different conditions. 

Peter didn’t know exactly when his gratitude became longing. He could not identify the moment the friendship, the closeness, or just your smile, shifted into something he craved everyday. 

Despite the mask and the fake name, he knew that after years of being no one to everyone, he had become someone to you. And you had become everything to him. Even if it was behind walls he’d built, you were the person who knew him better than anyone alive.

Which is why, the night he lost control of himself after an unknown dust was thrown at him in a fight, he chose not to crash land into your room. 

Peter hit the floor of the dark attic with a loud thud, as his senses went overboard. His suit was sticking to his body uncomfortably due to the sweat coating his feverish skin. The fabric was intact, with no visible wounds in his body, just that burning sensation of something running through his veins. 

And that dark part of him he’d managed to lock down with the inhibitor, trying to claw its way out. 

“What the…what the fuck is going on,” he cursed, clutching his heaving chest as he panted against the worn wood floors. “I can’t–I can’t breathe…” 

The computer’s monotone voice broke through the silence. 

“You have arrived injured. I’m letting her know–”

“NO!” He cut the AI off, “EV, don’t tell her–”

“Message already sent.”  

He glanced up at the digital clock on his desk. 2:18 am. 

He groaned, grabbing his head when a wave of migraine hit him. He knew what came after that. The black eyes. The desire to break. To take. But this time something felt different. It was like a pull, looking for something or someone…for…for you? 

Oh fuck. 

You were going to come in and you were going to see him like this. No, no–

“Spidey?” You asked from behind the door, knocking exactly twice before opening it anyways.

The air changed the exact moment you walked in, and that something inside him shifted too. It became aware that the only thing it craved to survive was in the room now. 

He needed to get to you. He needed to pin you down and– 

“Don’t!” He managed to scream, holding his hand up weakly when you scrambled toward him. 

You stopped right in your tracks, eyes wide and running all over him, searching for torn fabric, blood, or anything that would explain why he looked like every breath was painful. 

“What happened?” You frowned, when you couldn’t find any source. “Did you get hurt?” 

You instinctively stepped forward, but he waved his hand in front of him again. 

“Stop, stop, stop,” he said quickly, “don’t come any closer.” 

The harshness in his voice caught you off guard, but what sealed the deal was him dragging himself further away from you. It was barely more than a clumsy, desperate crawl, but he managed to put a decent distance between you before collapsing against the side of his thrifted couch. 

He avoided looking at you. The oversized shirt covering your body, the comfy shorts you were probably wearing, the way your hair looked messy from rolling out of bed as soon as you got EV’s warning even if you had work the next morning.

You stayed right where you were, watching him. His suit had always fit him like it was painted on his skin, but every pant made his chest rise and fall beneath the fabric so violently that you wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped at the seams. 

This reminded you too much of the changes that happened in him months ago. 

It started with a sharpened temper, then the heightened sensitivity to everything, the black covering his eyes, and moments during patrol when his reactions became simply frightening for someone who had as much strength as he did. But you were supposed to have stopped it. 

“Is it the inhibitor?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “is it failing?” 

“I–I don’t know…I was hit with some dust out there,” he breathed. “I think it’s tampering with it…my head is killing me. Everything is too much.”

You nodded, turning toward the workstation. 

“I will check the programming. Just hold on.” Not your best attempt at reassuring him, but he groaned in acknowledgment. 

“EV?” 

The computer woke when you touched the keyboard, illuminating the dark attic in a wash of blue light. 

“Online.”

“Please run a diagnostic on the inhibitor and any possible interference.” 

“Beginning diagnostic.” 

You waited impatiently for the results, tapping your fingers on the desk while you watched him from the corner of your eye. 

Over there, he…he was doing his best trying to breathe. 

This obviously wasn't his first time having sensory overload. When the animal tried to take over the human part of him, everything in the city became impossible to escape. Not a single movement, or sound, or simple existence within miles was unnoticed by him. 

But this time? The rest of the city had disappeared. There were no sirens in the distance, or voices coming through the walls, or every heartbeat in the building pounding in his head. 

There was only you. 

Your rapid heartbeat echoing inside him. He felt every tap of your fingers against the wood, every slight catch in your breathing each time he made another involuntary and pathetic sound from his spot on the floor. 

Your scent…God, your scent filled the entire apartment. 

The scent he found himself coming back to so often that it scared him. He didn’t want the attachment. The possibility of having someone again only to risk losing them again. 

That same scent was making every muscle in his body react in a way he didn’t understand. It made him, and the other him, wanna do things to you he had only dreamed of in his wildest fantasies. Things he wasn’t proud of, things he wouldn’t dare to say out loud, even if he looked at you through the lenses of his mask and you couldn’t see the black in his eyes. 

He pressed the back of his head against the couch harshly. 

This was wrong. So wrong. 

His senses were supposed to consume everything when the change came. Instead, they had fixed themselves entirely on you.

He could feel the heat of your body from across the room as though you were still in front of him. Could remember with sickening detail how soft your hands looked when they reached for him. Could almost feel the burn of the touch that had never landed because he stopped you. 

What if he’d let you? What if he’d felt the way your hands ran all over his body? What if you’d moved them lower, and lower, as your mouth–

“Diagnostic complete.” 

Your heads snapped toward the screen. 

“There’s no external damage affecting the integrity of the device. I detected a foreign biotoxin in the bloodstream that may be bypassing the inhibitor, activating the suppressed arachnid hormones.” 

“What biotoxin?” You frowned. 

“Unknown. No matches found in available databases.” 

Great. He thought. He had no time to take a bath with Yelena Belova to find out what the stupid dust was. 

Tiny, microscopic potato, she would say.

The screen changed, displaying a model of his nervous system. There were yellow bright lines pulsing quickly, running all the way from the base of his brain down the length of his spine. Something unknown was moving through his blood, altering the part of him he had spent months forcing into submission.

He sucked in a breath as he watched you read the screen. Your eyes were focused, and a bead of sweat made its way down the side of your forehead. 

He suddenly felt the need to lick it off. 

Wanted to run his tongue from the base of your neck to the back of your ear. Wanted to fist your hair and make your heart beat out of your chest from how good he knew he could make you feel–

“The effects remain within his enhanced tolerance. However, prolonged exposure to certain hormones can cause extreme distress without relief.” 

“What hormones?” Your voice, worried and unknowing of his thoughts only made him feel guiltier. 

It took him a second to realize what you asked, but EV threw him under the bus before he could say anything. 

“There’s a significant rise in reproductive hormones. The unknown toxin is inducing a strong mating response in him.”

Mating response. He stopped breathing. 

Your eyes slowly moved from the monitor to him, and he saw the moment your attention dropped lower to the tent of his pants. 

That suit concealed nothing on a good day. On one like this? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck–

He shifted almost immediately, but the movement only worsened the pressure, pulling a helpless groan from his throat that made your pulse jump. You looked away at once, turning back to the computer. 

“Is there a way we can…umm…stop it?” You asked hesitantly. 

“The subject is experiencing severe sexual arousal with a fixation on a nearby individual,” she explained, because fuck him if he wasn’t the unluckiest individual on earth. “Acting upon it can be a positive option to relieve sexual tension.”

He wished the floor would open beneath him, swallow him, and never ever EVER spit him back out again.  

Your pulse was absolutely hammering after that. He caught the sudden change in your scent. There was a sharp spark of surprise, nervousness, and something else beneath it that his altered senses fed on immediately.

You kept your eyes fixed on the monitor, although the data had stopped meaning anything the moment you heard fixation on a nearby individual. 

“Is that what you really feel?” You asked softly after a moment. 

His head fell forward, catching it between his gloved hands. He didn’t know how to answer without making everything worse.

Although, after what EV said, could it really be worse? 

“…Yes.” The word came out rougher than he expected. Yet still not enough for what was happening inside him. “It’s like…I can only feel you. All of you.”

Heat rose to your face once again. 

“What does that mean?” 

Don’t say anything, don’t–

“I can smell you.” Great start, idiot. He cleared his dry throat before continuing. “I can smell your shampoo…the lotion you use…the ink on your hands from your favorite pen.” 

He chose not to mention he could also smell the adrenaline on you. The heat gathering slowly beneath your skin. 

Your eyes dropped to your hands, and under the dim light of the computer, you caught the ink stains in them from your journaling session before bed. 

“I can hear your heartbeat changing every time I speak,” he added. Okay, that one slipped out.  

You swallowed. And god, he felt that in his own throat. 

The suit was suffocating him at this point. He wanted to rip it off as much as he wanted to rip off the fabric covering the goosebumps on your skin. 

“Is it only because I’m nearby?” You asked, gathering the courage to turn your chair to him.

White lenses met you across the room. He dragged in another shaky breath of oxygen made of you as he thought about his next words. He could’ve lied. He should’ve lied. But instead, chemically overwhelmed and stripped of every defense he possessed, he gave you the truth. 

“No.”

His voice was firmer this time. No hesitation in it despite the thousand red alarms pounding in his head telling him to shut up. 

“It picked you–no, I picked you for a reason,” he added. “And it’s not just me. The other…the other me wants you too.” 

His voice went lower on the last part, that told you how much it cost him to admit that. 

The silence following his confession was heavy. For a moment he wished he could read your mind. For all he could feel of you, your thoughts were unreachable. 

His own mind was a mess. The impulses didn’t feel like thoughts anymore, just his body feeding him instructions. 

Get up. Cross the room. Touch her. Breathe her in.

His palms shook with the urge to close around you. His teeth ached with the need to graze your skin. His eyes burned with the desire to see beyond fabric. 

Every part of him seemed convinced that the small distance between you was a mistake he needed to correct. That he needed to breathe you in until his lungs burned. Drag his mouth along the inside of your wrist and taste the pulse there.

He hated it.

He hated that something inside him could look at the person he cared for the most and reduce her to an answer for his pain. 

“EV, how long is this state going to last?” He asked the computer, followed by a weak cough as he clutched his side. 

“Your enhanced physiology is struggling to break down the toxin’s structure. I estimate a time between ten to twelve hours before it’s metabolized. However, neurological collapse is expected before that timeframe.”

“What?” You looked at him. “There’s no way we’re letting that happen. Maybe I can–”

“Don’t even start,” he cut you off, shaking his head profusely. 

“So what? I’m supposed to sit here betting on whether your body collapses on hour three or hour six?” 

“I’ll just pass out, big deal. I’m not putting you in danger because of this. I can handle it.”

“You’re barely handling it now. There’s no danger in trying–”

“You don’t understand what’s happening inside me right now,” he argued, raising his voice. “This other thing, the one the inhibitor controls it’s…awake. That part of me doesn’t think like I do. It doesn’t care if you're scared, or hurting–”

“You wouldn’t hurt me–”

“You don’t know that!” He snapped, his fist struck the floor next to him, hard enough to make the worn wood crack beneath his knuckles. 

The sudden noise made you flinch. He smelled the flash of fear moving through your body for only a second. 

One second enough. 

“Fuck–that is what I mean,” he cursed, covering his lenses with his hands. “I don’t…I don’t know if I’d be gentle. I can’t risk this, I can't…shit, I can’t risk you.”

The words, said with so much pain, and honesty, seemed to settle somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Okay,” you nodded, settling deeper in your chair. “But I’m not leaving you like this. I can’t risk you either.”

He shuddered a painful exhale. His head dropped to the couch again, shutting his eyes in preparation of what the next hours of torture would be. 

Except…he didn’t even last ten minutes. 

The suit was killing him, so he decided he’d be better without it. He reached desperately behind his back, clumsily undoing the zippers that tied the suit together.

He could feel your wide eyes on him as he tugged the fabric off his shoulders, peeling it off his sweaty arms. He groaned when he lifted his hips and the suit grazed his swollen crotch. In a matter of seconds that felt like eternity he managed to break free from the spandex, and threw it away somewhere in the room. He’d undressed down to his dark boxers, mask still in place, revealing the marble sculpture of his body.

You let out a shaky breath from your spot, eyes raking over a body you’d only seen partially. He was covered in wounds most of the time, but this time, he only had faint bruises from the night before decorating his chiseled abs. 

His tight muscles flexed with every rise of his chest, his bulge straining harder the more you devoured him, pressing against his pants, making him curse quietly. 

You noticed, and returned your eyes to the screen to track his vitals. 

He felt grateful that you’d given him that grace, but just you being in that room made it very hard for him to think of anything other than your existence. 

Too hard. 

Before he knew his hand drifted down the growing ache in his crotch, trying to feel some relief, but every rub he made over the fabric of his boxers sent a jolt of pain through his body instead of pleasure. 

It only made it worse when he realized you were tense at the desk, trying very hard to keep your focus on the screen and not on the whines he was letting out. 

“…I’m sorry,” he apologized instantly, breathlessly, moving his hand away. “I didn’t–”

“Don’t apologize,” you shook your head quickly, eyes still on the screen. “You…you can do whatever you need.” 

He didn’t say anything, just whined in pain again, so you took it as a chance to say it before you regretted it. 

“But my offer still stands, spidey.” 

What a polite way of saying ‘I’d let you fuck me into next week so you can control your horny arachnid hormones, spidey.’

Fucking hell. 

“I’m okay I just–God I didn’t–I didn’t think it would feel this way…” He laughed humorlessly, staring at the ceiling. “But I–I got this. Yes.”

You kept quiet, hearing him mumble to himself about a hundred times about how he had this.

“I’m okay…I’m good…it’s fine…” 

He wasn’t. 

“Fuck I don’t…I’m going to die…”

For God’s sake. 

“I think I can help.”

By the time he registered the words and looked back at you, you had already moved from your chair and shortened the distance between you, kneeling in front of him. 

His senses went from one thousand to one million. He forced his hands behind his back, trying to keep the animal from grabbing you and getting it over with. 

“What–what are you doing?” He stammered nervously, the lenses of his mask going wide. 

“Maynard,” you said quietly, ignoring the way his body tensed up at that name. “Would it make you feel better if I put my hand here?” 

You placed your hand right in the center of his chest, and your cold palm met his overheated skin. He gasped, feeling every individual fingerprint on his skin. He wanted them marked on him. Tattooed. 

His back arched from the couch, with a strangled gasp breaking from beneath the mask. The relief hit him all at once, through a simple contact that felt like salvation. 

Your hand steadied him for only a glorious second, but now that you had touched him, his body knew precisely what it had been denied.

It wanted more.

His own hand closed around yours so suddenly that you almost pulled back, but he loosened his grip the instant he realized how tightly he was holding you. 

“Sorry–”

“Don’t apologize.” You pressed harder. 

He was burning.

The heat beneath your palm scared you, but what scared you more was the violent pounding of his heart beating against your hand so so quickly. 

“Better?” You asked quietly, trying not to bite your bottom lip at the image of him crumbling under your palm. 

“So fucking better,” he said breathlessly, pressing your hand tighter against his chest. “I…dammit–”

“Breathe,” you reminded.

His head fell back against the couch. Chest rising up and down, up and down, up and down. 

Just take her, man, she’s right there–

Your free hand accidentally brushed his neck, right where the border of the mask started, snapping him right back. He grabbed your hand, not harshly, but firm enough to make your breath hitch. 

“Please.” Was all he said. 

Leave it on. 

It brought you back to that first night he’d crashed into your life. 

“I wasn’t planning on removing it,” you whispered, leaning closer. “You can keep it on. But let me help you…I really want to.”

See? She wants it. She needs it so bad. 

He hated that the other guy was right. He knew you meant what you said because he could smell the proof pooling between your thighs.

Fuck it.

In a sudden movement he reached for your waist, dragging you forward so you were straddling his lap. The bulge you landed on made you gasp, hands instinctively grabbing onto his sweaty biceps for balance when he let out a broken groan that vibrated against your core. 

His hand cupped your jaw, bringing it closer to his face, and your dilated pupils reflected on the white of his lenses. 

“I can feel that you want this,” he mumbled, tilting his head to the side. “Please, say it again…”

You shifted your hips, barely, so minimal yet he felt it travel through his whole body. He hissed, tightening the grip on your jaw. 

“I want this,” you repeated firmly, moving your head closer to his ear. “You can take whatever you need…”

You moved your hips again, more deliberate this time, pulling a broken whine from him. The toxin made every contact feel like electricity racing down his spine, straight to the heavy, aching weight of his cock under you. 

“Yes…yeah just like that…” he panted. “Just let me…”

His hands landed on your waist, moving you back and forth at a quicker pace over his bulge. You gasped at the friction, fingers digging into his shoulders, while he let out a collection of muffled words you could barely understand. 

“...M–more…” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. “I can’t–I need…”

“What do you need? More what?” 

“More contact.”

His hands left your waist to grab the hem of your shirt. 

“Can I?” He whispered.

You nodded eagerly, gasping when his hands shifted to the collar of your shirt instead, ripping it off your body with a sharp pull. 

“Oh fuck,” he cursed when he realized there was nothing under that shirt, and saw your nipples hardening instantly under the cold air. 

He resisted the urge to bite them through the mask. 

His hands, however, wasted no time to cup your breasts with a broken whine. His thumbs played with your nipples, tugging at them as hard as he could allow himself to without hurting you. 

“Fuck you’re perfect…you’re so perfect…” he whispered, more to himself than you, pulling some soft whimpers out of you when he tugged a little harder. His hands drifted to your lower half, to the hem of the last piece keeping your body from his greedy eyes. “These too,” he said, “please, can I? I want to feel you.”

“Yes,” you nodded, already out of air. 

You didn’t even know why you tried to get off his lap to take the shorts off properly, when he just did the same as the shirt: ripped it in half where it rested on your hips, yanked it off from your body and threw the ruined pieces far away. 

You weren’t wearing anything underneath. 

“I can smell you. God, I can smell you. You’re so–oh God…”

Now he could feel your wetness drenching his boxers, dripping onto the fabric. He could almost taste it in his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to drown in it for hours. 

“Can–can I–?”

You didn’t even let him finish, you grabbed his hand and placed it right between your legs. 

Water. He found water in the middle of the dessert. 

His hand moved carefully through your wet folds once, twice, delighting in your warmth, the way you felt, the way you let out the prettiest sound he had ever heard in his miserable life. 

“Fuck…” you cursed softly, moving your hips eagerly when he kept stroking slow. Too slow. “Touch me, please.”

He obliged, fingers finding your clit in movements that had you gripping his shoulders tighter, eyes fluttering shut so beautifully he had to bite his lip to not let out a pathetic sound. 

“Been wanting this,” he mumbled. “Longer than today. Longer than tonight.”

His finger slid inside of you, making you moan when he curled it just right. 

“There were…there were nights I thought about you riding my hand,” he kept going, voice cracking as he added a second finger, stretching you more. “I’ve wanted you for so long–not just because of this shit in my blood. Because it’s you.”

Every word made you clench around his fingers. Every admission pulled another shaky moan out of your throat. You were a mess already, breathless, hips rolling down to meet the thrust of his fingers. 

“Oh my God–don’t stop, please don’t stop–”

“Not stopping, baby.” 

He kept working you open, the white lenses of the mask never leaving your face. His free hand slid up your chest, settling between your breasts. 

“I’m–I’m close,” you managed. “I’m so close–”

“Come on…you’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect like this.”

The heel of his palm lifted to press against your clit. You were right there, right on the edge, about to come on his hand and drip down his boxers–

“Please,” he begged, unable to keep it in. “Let me fuck you after this…please. I need to be inside you. I’ve needed it for so long–just let me, after you come, please, please–”

The plea undid you.

You came with a broken cry, stopping your movements as your walls pulsed around him. The sound you made against his shoulder nearly finished him right there. 

It took you a second to just breathe again, your chest synching up with his in the search of oxygen. He kept rocking his hand slowly, not just to work you through the aftershocks, but because the friction of your pussy in his hand brought the tiniest relief to him. 

You just stayed there as the last soft waves rolled through you. 

Once you were able to see clearly again, you let out a breathless chuckle and straightened back up. 

He needed you. He needed you so badly you really thought he was going to die if you didn’t help him. 

You placed one hand on his chest as the other reached under you, slipping inside the fabric of his boxers without breaking eye contact. 

The second your bare fingers brushed him, his hips jerked hard under you. 

“You said please,” you whispered breathlessly. 

You wrapped your fingers around him and pulled him free.

His cock sprang out, heavy and flushed between your bodies, so thick and hard and painful. The head was red and shiny, with precum dripping down the vein that ran along his length. The tip brushed the skin of your stomach, leaving a warm, wet patch that made the hair on your arms go up. He could smell the small flicker of intimidation sparking inside you, but the want that followed was stronger. 

You stroked him a few times, slowly just as he’d touched you at first. 

“Oh my God, your hand–your hand–”

Another thick bead of precum welled up and spilled over your fingers. Whether it was the toxin or just his enhanced physiology, he was dripping for you.  

Flustered wasn’t enough of a word when you had his leaking cock in your hand. 

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping tighter, guiding you up as if he was about to lift you then pulling you back down immediately. 

Fuck her. Fuck her right now. 

“Please, I need–I need to feel you…” he cried out. “Let me…let me…”

You nodded just as desperately, lifting yourself up as he helped, steadying you with shaking hands until the thick head of his cock nudged against your entrance. You both exhaled hard at the same time when you started to sink down, taking him inch by inch.

He was big. Almost too much. The burn of it made your breath hitch, but the way he cursed under his breath multiple times, completely at your mercy, made you keep going until he was buried balls deep.

You sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, and so full of him. 

When the initial sting faded away, you started moving. He let you set the pace as you adjusted, holding back his need of thrusting up. His fingers dug on your skin, not lifting just holding you, but the more that you moved, the more that control started to waver. 

He could feel it coming. The change. 

You kept moaning, bouncing on top of him, completely unaware of his self restraint crumbling away. 

His grip slowly tightened when his eyes began turning completely black under his mask. That careful, pathetic boy who’d been begging disappeared beneath something more…primal. 

Fuck. Whatever had been holding him back finally snapped.

The next thing he knew, his hands slid under your thighs with sudden strength. He lifted you up in one motion until only the thick head of him remained inside you, held you there for a second as the last part of him tried to remember how to be gentle–then snapped his hips up hard.

That first thrust pulled a sharp moan out of you, but there was no chance to adjust this time. He set a relentless pace almost immediately, using pure strength to bounce you on his cock while he drove up to meet every drop of your body, buried so deep it stole your breath every time he bottomed out. 

“Oh my–May…Maynard–” the name you barely used on him slipped out in the middle of the frenzy, but his hand reached behind your head to pull your hair back slightly as he kept thrusting up. 

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, his voice so different from just minutes earlier. “It’s Peter. Call me Peter when I’m inside you.” 

He didn’t even give you time to process, still lifting and dropping you onto his cock at the exact hard rhythm he wanted. The only one that satisfied the need inside of him. Your hands instinctively reached for the edge of the arm of the couch he was leaning against, fingers digging into the worn fabric as he hit that spot inside you over and over again. 

“Of fuck…Peter–fuck…yes…”

“That’s better,” he approved. “I was right, you’re so so perfect…taking every inch like you need it as bad as I do…”

A desperate sound slipped out of you at the praise, he could feel your walls clenching tight around him as your body went for that second orgasm, your eyes were fluttering shut, almost there–

“Nuh–uh,” he denied immediately, stopping mid thrust, holding you pressed against him as you gasped, surprised and confused. 

“What–what happened? I was about to–”

“I want you to hold it for me. I know you can.”

That twisted part of him enjoyed the slow realization on your face. 

Even if you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew the same spiderman he’d been without the inhibitor, was the one with your body at his mercy now. 

Good. 

He stayed buried to the hilt for a moment, breathing hard behind the mask. When your breathing finally slowed down and accepted that the high never came, he stood up. Still inside you, he walked you to the bed in the corner of the room. 

His bed.

He pulled out with a wet sound that made both of you groan, then laid you down roughly near the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down, strong hands hooking behind your knees and dragging your legs over his shoulders, folding you open for him completely.

“Look at the ceiling,” he ordered. “Don’t look at me.”

You obeyed, staring up at the wood beams high above you while he tugged the bottom of the mask just high enough to free his mouth. 

Peter leaned down and pressed a few soft kisses to your swollen folds. He wasn’t necessarily eating you out, just giving a few loud smooches that felt good enough to make you grip the sheets. 

“M’sorry, you were so perfect there…” he mumbled condescendingly against your most sensitive spots. “But I need you to hold on a little longer. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Maybe too eager. Maybe too pathetic. Just like he’d been. Had he pumped that toxin into you? 

Either way, you didn’t care. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like this version of him. 

He laughed right over your clit when you moaned loudly, after he moved his tongue in a slow, torturous swipe over it. 

“Was back there too much?” He cooed. “Maybe I just need to stretch you more...”

Two fingers slid inside you, so easily, but the sudden stretch still dragged a whine out of your throat. He curled them immediately, finding the spot that made your hips jerk. 

“Peter…” 

“Huh?” He acted coy, pumping his fingers with a rhythm that kept you right on the edge without letting you tip over. He added a third finger, making your back arch from the mattress. “Keep holding it in.”

Every shake of your body fed the stupid toxin inside him. Having you like this…really trying to keep your body from coming apart because he said so. 

God. He was never going back. 

“You just took my cock. I think you can take three fingers with no problem.” 

He kept the same relentless pace, chuckling when your body started twitching again. 

“Shhh, you’re perfect, absolutely perfect…”

“Peter…” you called out again, hand dropping the sheet to find his shoulder instead. “I need…need…”

“Need what?”

“Need you inside me…please I won’t–I won’t hold for much longer just–fuck me.”

He stopped altogether, a smirk you couldn’t see stretching the corner of his mouth. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, licking them clean before tugging his mask back in place and standing up. 

“Yeah?” 

Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed for a moment before his hands gripped your hips and turned you over. He moved you higher up the bed, grabbing one of the pillows, and shoving it under your hips, tilting your lower body up for him. 

He then climbed onto the bed behind you and knelt between your spread thighs, the mattress dipping under his weight as one hand stroked down the length of your spine. 

But something made him stop. 

“This fucking mask–” he cursed under his breath. “It’s suffocating me.”

The sweat on his forehead had pooled under the mask, making it so sticky over his eyebrows that it was affecting the lenses he was trying to see you through. 

“I need you to be a good girl for me,” he added breathlessly, yet still commanding enough. “Keep your head on the mattress. Ass up. Don’t turn around.”

You nodded. Too eagerly again. Couldn’t care any less again. 

He didn’t think twice, just yanked the mask off and tossed it aside. It landed near you, making you bury half your face on the sheets as if staring at the mask alone would be disobeying his commands. 

The sound he made when the cool air hit his face was pure relief. He swiped the sweat off with his forearm, finally seeing you clearly. Face down. Eyes squeezed shut. Already clutching the sheets. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he mumbled. “All spread out for me…waiting.”

“Peter…” you whined, lifting your ass slightly from the pillow. 

“I know, I know. You’re okay.” He couldn’t keep the smirk away when he added, “you said please.”

He reached between you, guiding the thick head of his cock between your thighs until it nudged against your entrance. You were still soft and ready and perfect. 

Peter pushed in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he sank deep and deep and deeper. 

He braced one hand beside your head and kept the other on your hip, pushing you into the mattress as his thighs hit the back of yours. Slap. Slap. Slap. The position left almost no space between your bodies, with Peter pressing his chest against your back. 

“Fuck…you feel so good like this…so pretty taking me.”

He kept going, making the mattress creak and the base of the bed hit the brick wall repeatedly. Your desperate moans ran through his body like electricity, making something inside him crack open again. 

What? What is–

The moment his rhythm stuttered, he shook his head, trying to clear it. Beads of sweat flew from his hair to your back. 

“God–you…you’re making me–” The roughness of his thrusts slowed down immediately, inhaling a sharp intake of air as he felt the change again. “I can’t, I can’t…”

He lifted his gaze to the window behind the bed and noticed his eyes had turned back to its original color. 

“Oh my god,” he gasped, stopping altogether. He straightened up, still kneeling and inside you, but panicking. “I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened I–“

“Peter!” You cut him off, pushing yourself back, closer to him, without turning around. “Shut up and fuck me.”

The order left your mouth breathless, pushing back against him even more to make the point clear. His hands twitched when they gripped your hips again. 

“Okay, okay…” he panted, groaning when you dropped back on the bed and his cock almost left the warmth of your pussy. “I’m sorry–if I was too rough, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

He picked up the pace again, but the words tumbling out of him now were pure pleading Peter again. 

“Don’t turn around–don’t turn around–fuck, fuck…” slap, slap, slap. “You can come now. Please. Please, I want to feel it–you’d come apart so pretty on me, I know you would…pleasepleaseplease–”

His final permission and the desperate way he said it made you crash harder than the first time, crying out into the mattress. The second he felt you coming around him, he knew he couldn’t last much longer either.

“Can I–inside…please, can I??…let me fill you up–”

“Yes–inside, Peter, do it inside me…” 

He buried himself to the hilt with a strained groan and finally came. The orgasm tearing out of him was harder and longer than anything he’d ever felt, holding you there, filling you up. 

You gasped against the sheets, breathless, as the waves of cum seemed to go on forever, flooding you with warm and thick ropes in every spurt as he emptied himself inside you. 

“Thank you…thank you…” His forehead dropped between your shoulder blades, sending broken gasps against your skin as he kept coming. “You are so perfect–fuck…so perfect…thank you…”

The pollen wrung him dry until he could barely breathe, and even then he kept rolling his hips weakly, chasing the last of it while he slowly softened inside you. 

When it finally eased, the pain, the need, the hunger…he pulled out slowly with a whine, and half collapsed over you. His arms held most of his weight as he planked above you, but you could feel every ridge of his muscles brushing your sweaty skin. 

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut, feeling exhausted and aching in the best way, almost lulled by the sounds of your agitated breaths. 

You both felt the warm trail of liquid leaking out between your bodies and neither of you moved or said anything for a while. He could’ve stayed like that forever, really. With your naked body under him, no masks, no barriers, just your swollen pussy leaking out his seed–

“Successful ejaculation brought down the arachnid hormone levels immediately. Inhibitor working within regular parameters now. Congratulations, Peter.” 

EV’s monotone voice cut through the silence. 

It took two seconds of shock before you both broke into breathless laughter. His teeth grazed your back as your bodies vibrated in sync from the amusement and overall flustering after everything that happened. 

“Thank you, EV,” Peter muttered. 

“You’re welcome. I gathered data and the released semen volume exceeds standard parameters by two hundred and twenty six percent due to the high hormonal concentration. Hydration, clean up and rest are advised.”

“For fucks sake…” Peter cursed under his breath. 

“Oh god…” you mumbled against the sheets. 

That was your call back to reality. 

Peter felt you move under him, reaching blindly to the side until your hand found the mask. You lifted it over your shoulder, offering it to him without looking. 

“I don’t want to,” he said, too quickly, then cleared his throat. “I…I don’t want to put it back on.” 

“Then I’ll close my eyes,” you offered instead. 

“No–I mean…you don’t have to. I don’t want to wear it around you anymore. Not after…all of this,” he admitted sheepishly. 

“But you told me to not turn around,” you reminded him, dropping the mask on the mattress again. “And that was you, not the darker you.”

He chuckled, nodding even if you couldn’t see him yet. 

“Yeah, because if I saw your face while I was balls deep inside you I would’ve busted before you came.”

There it was. He said it. No turning back now. 

At least it got a chuckle from you too. 

“Listen I…I meant everything I said. Everything. The wanting, the nights I thought about you,” he confessed. “I don’t want you to feel like I just used you when…when there was always a reason why I needed you like oxygen tonight.”

Your breath hitched, and his hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him, and when you didn’t push away…he exhaled in relief behind you. 

“So maybe…you can turn around now. If–if you want to. Know the real me.”

“I would really like that,” you whispered without hesitation. 

You tried lifting yourself up to turn around, but he did most of the job, moving away the pillow he had placed under you and helping you roll onto your back. You closed your eyes, at least until you were facing him completely, and took a deep breath. Holding onto his biceps for moral support, you finally opened them again. 

Seeing his face for the first time felt so intimate, even after everything you just did. 

There he was. The same guy who just fucked you into next week, looking more shy and boyish than you could’ve ever imagined. 

Brown eyes. Dark, curly hair sticking to his forehead. A nervous smile tugging at the corner of his gorgeous mouth. 

So young. So earnest. So yours. 

Not spidey anymore. Just Peter. 

Your Peter. 

Thank you so much for reading 🤍 I used to write Peter so much back in the day (shoutout to my starktonyx era) and I’ve missed him dearly.

Feedback is always appreciated 🕷️

Divider by @andromeda-graphics

Tags: @johnnyfuckingsexystorm @harryplzruinme @jellyfishjpeg @tatumrileyslover @kg0626

[littleleowon]

skinniest dipping (request)

anon‘s ask

not proofread.

cw: smut, dom!leo, sub!femreader, leo is jealous (and roughless), pool sex, strength kink (kinda), passionate lovers, things just turn out very graphic when i write for leo lol <3

—

Your favorite feature about Leo were his eyes.

He didn't own that sweet and round boba-like pair that was perfect for puppy eyes. So perfectly fitting to his name, they were sharp like a Lion's. Most of the time, they made you weak in the knees with the way his gaze was always so stern and steady, so sure about himself and his feelings for you.

But sometimes, the sharp shape of his eyes allowed him to signal danger to anyone that met them. Even right now when he was starring holes into your almost bare back, you felt goosebumps all over although you didn't even meet his gaze.

"I really hope we can work together again, you're like such an amazing partner." Geonwoo said as he flashed you a charming smile.

Both of you had been paired up for the last project of this semester. It was the smoothest proccess you ever experienced in your literal life-time at university and you were incredibly grateful to have worked with one of the most intelligent guys on campus (so the girls say).

Your boyfriend had never been happy about it, which was new to you, considering he was usually a very chill guy. Yet everytime you announce that you would be going over to Geonwoo's place, he just huffed and answered a short "fine" or "ok", only to drown you in questions once you were back.

Leo was so bad in hiding his jealousy. And you found it really amusing.

Although you'd have preferred to stay at home that evening, you accepted the invitation to Geonwoo's pool party. Leo of course did not miss this opportunity to tag along once you said plus one's are fine.

So here you were. Wearing a cute bikini in burgundy red, the color Leo always mentions to look best on you.

Ever since you arrived, he hadn't moved an inch from his seat. When you offered him a drink he politely declined, but you still got up to get one for yourself anyway.

Who would've thought that Geonwoo had the need to stop you for minutes of chatter?

"I enjoyed working with you too! I felt so relieved when your name was called along mine. I think our working paces just match."

The male giggled at the compliment and if you weren't mistaken your ear caught someone clearing his throat right behind you. You had to bite back the grin on your lips. Are these the kind of praises Leo desires? Seriously?

"Yeah, it's a match inde-"

"Hey babe. Geonwoo." Both of you turned your head towards Leo who suddenly stood so close to you, you felt his breath on your shoulder just right before he puts his arm around them. He nodded to the other male, the only kind of recognition he‘d give him that night.

"Leo. Long time no see." Geonwoo stretched out his hand in a friendly manner. When you saw the force Leo used for the handshake you playfully rolled your eyes, grabbing his wrist as you gently parted his palm from Geonwoo‘s.

Your former project partner let out an awkward laugher, nodding as he got the message from the boy right next to you, who had literal fire in his eyes.

"I‘ll leave you two alone for now. I think your boyfriend misses you." A soft blush crept up to your cheeks, feeling slightly embarassed by his possesiveness.

With his wrist still in your hand, you yanked him to follow your quick steps. The sounds of your steps filled the hallway, as messy as this whole situation was getting. To your surprise, Leo had followed you without many protests until you opened a door and gestured him to get in.

With his sharp eyes, he observed you carefully, searching for your intention as he slowly stepped in, you following after as you closed the door to the indoor pool area.

"You want a solo swimming session with me or what?" He joked, shrugging his shoulders as he looked around the area. There were no windows and the only lights illuminating the space were lamps inside the pool, making the rooms light pretty dim.

If anything, it accentuated the shape of your boyfriend‘s body. It was only know that you were made aware of the fact that he was only in his swim trunks that loosely hugged his slim waist. The sight had you forgetting for a moment, what you even brought him there for.

Silence spread across the both of you, with Leo observing the pool area in front of you. As he walked closer to the water you followed, taking your space beside him.

The room was perfectly heated, making it comfortable to stay in. You could only imagine how great the water must feel.

Leo, the perfect boyfriend that he is, seemed to sense your thoughts and needs. You were about to dip your toe into the pool, distracted from the things you wanted to tell him, as you felt a soft shove to your back.

Your arms flapped in the wildest shape as you kept you tried to keep your balance before entirely tipping over. How pleasing that the attempts of not falling into the pool granted you a few extra seconds to grab onto the culprit.

With a huge splash the both of you fell into the water. You had already let go of Leo through the fall but for some reasons his hands were still firmly around you.

Both of you gasped for air as you got back to the top. It took you seconds to blink away the blur of the cool pool water before you came face to face with your equally wet boyfriend.

Droplets of water clung to his hair, the additional weight glued his strands to his forehead. A smile of adoration crept up your lips as you stroke back his hair to free his face that had a rather mocking expression on it.

"Don‘t laugh." Leo said, his arms positioning underneath your butt, knowing that the water was deep enough that if he didn‘d hold onto you, it‘d go just slightly past your chin. In this position, your face was towering his. Both of your hands squashed his cheeks together but he was fast to release from your grip.

"Oh, look who‘s extra sulky tonight." You pouted in adoration, patting his head in a babying manner. Both of your legs wrapped around Leo‘s waist, making your bodies cling even closer to each than before. The extra touch warmed you more than the rooms heating system.

Your actions earned you a scoff and a roll of his eyes. "Me? Sulky?"

Your first response was a giggle, your legs dangling in the water as he still held you up. There was a certain kind of attractiveness, being held like you weighted nothing. Your wet skin enhanced the warmth of Leo‘s heavy breathing against your chest area.

"Oh please, you‘ve been sulking the entire evening. Sitting on the sun chair, not moving an inch. Eyeing me like my guard dog. You know people walked past you and had to do a double take probably because they were wondering if they did anything wrong to make you angry."

"That‘s bullshit." Leo poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, a smug and cocky expression spread over his face. You weren‘t sitting in a whirlpool were you? Your body was warming up way too much.

"Uh uh. Even when I was talking to Geonwoo, I felt your gaze drilling holes into my back."

At the mention of the other male‘s name, Leo‘s gaze shoot up to you. As he gazed into your eyes, you noticed the way your playful smile faded. It was like he was melting it away like ice.

His expression seemed to have darkened. Although he didn‘t speak a single word, there was conversation flowing between the two of you as you read each and every twitch of your faces. You were lovers after all. He spoke your language.

Even as he moved towards the edge of the pool, you kept the eye contact intact. Your bare back softly bumped against the smooth surface of the swimming pool, a soft gasp leaving your lips. A mouthful of words were waiting to be said but no sound left your throat. Leo‘s intense gaze was demanding, guiding you into obedience to not say a word unless he speaks first.

"That guy." He started off. And as he spoke, he pressed his body closer to yours, your legs being spread by the width of his figure. His abdomen rubbed against your core and from the way he opened you up and applied pressure to you at the same time, the fabric of your swimming bottoms rubbed against your center in a way they shouldn‘t be.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, holding back any sounds, hoping Leo wouldn‘t notice. "He doesn‘t seem to know his place. And you should know better too."

He has inched close enough with only a breath parting your faces. The tip of his nose brushed yours with every word that he spoke at the same time. At his words you raised an eyebrow and from the way he grinded his teeth in habit, you knew he was already starting to get heated from this tiny bit of attitude that you were showing.

"The way you were so extremly determined about the handshake .. I‘m sure he got the message, babe."

Your hands slide from the back of Leo‘s neck to intertwine in his wet, stroked back hair. If only he knew how hot he looked, worked up and fresh out of a nice dive.

"Yeah, I hope so. So there‘s still you who has to grasp it.“

Before you could protest, Leo‘s lips were already on yours. He was eating you, showing no mercy and no interest in adapting your pace that was chasing his. This was his way of breathing his lesson into you.

Both of your heads titled, syncronized as the kiss deepened. Soft strokes of Leo‘s skilled tongue against yours had you melting more and more into it. You needed him as close as possible.

As you kissed, his hand got busy, feeling you up from your sides to your breasts. No time was wasted to pull your flimy bikini top south, both of your boobs springing free. The roughness had you gasping, grabbing onto Leo‘s wrist but he was quick to yank himself off your hands.

Instead his hand flew to your face, getting ahold of your chin as he forced you to look at him. "I touch you the way I want to and no one else is allowed to do that."

Desire and ownership were burning in Leo‘s eyes like fire. You loved this feeling. The feeling of belonging, the feeling of being a part of something so special that was your boyfriend‘s being. Sensation ran through your body like electric waves, sparking up your need in every way possible.

Your voice was nothing but faint whisper, as if your words were secrets to hide from people who were not there. "I know that. I know that I‘m yours."

Lips to your ear, hand on your chest. Leo‘s hot breath and raspy voice had you in the feels all the way to the center of your body. He knew your body like he knew his own house - every curve like every corner. You were his most precious property.

The way his palm rubbed your nipple as he talked to you got you embarassingly wet, and you felt that with your bottom part deep inside the water.

"Oh yeah?"

At his little question you nodded in response.

"Didn‘t seem like it."

You despised how he was still holding a conversation with his hands doing things as sinful as that. It was hard to focus on speaking when he was kneading you in his palm like his favorite toy.

"I-I do. I know that."

"Know what?"

In between his interrogation, he‘d nip on your neck, suck the sweet spot behind your air, bit down on your collarbone. All the things that gave you a hard time breathing.

"T-that I belong to you."

Leo‘s hand slid downwards, leaving your chest exposed to the cold air, your buds hardening and granting him the most delicious sight ever with the way pearls of water were sitting on top of them.

"Well, you gotta make it up to me."

Your hazy eyes once again met his. The look on his face was serious, determined to take whatever he was asking for. At the same time he knew that this was no taking when you were a good girl, willing enough to always give.

Quick fingers tugged on the thin strings that tied your bottoms together on both sides. The first knot was quick to be loosened, the fabric swam off your skin immediately so that getting it off entirely of you was easy.

Bright red tinted your cheeks at the realization that you were sitting completely naked in the swimming pool in a home that was not yours. Shameful how this thought didn‘t even occupy you for a long time when you observed your boyfriend freeing himself from his trunks, discarding them somewhere near the pool.

He tipped your chin upwards with his finger, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

"Make it up to me by taking me like a good girl, yeah?"

You nodded in response, your hole already clenching at the thought of taking Leo right here, at the risk of being caught but you knew it would be worth it.

With only his tip in, you were already a whimpering mess, cheek pressed to Leo‘s shoulder, nails clawing to his wet skin.

"Don‘t keep your cheek smushed, we still need to talk hm?"

You turned your head in response, your chin propped up on his shoulder as he kept pushing in deeper and deeper, fitting in you like the two of you were made to fit together.

"You feel amazing.." You drew out the last word long, a squeaky moan escaping your lips as you were fully seated and Leo adjusted your position so that he held you firmly, arms crossed underneath your buttcheeks so you were perfectly sitting on his member.

"Mhm. I do, right? Is there any space to think highly of another guy when this is how your boyfriend feels like?"

His words went straight to your core and you knew he felt the way your walls were clamping his cock inside of you. His lips were pressed to your neck, you felt his teeth against your skin as he smiled in victory.

Not even waiting for your answer, Leo started moving. Not his body, but yours.

He had full control of you from how he held you. His strength allowed him to lift you up, and push you back down on his cock again. At first he was going slow, figuring out how much to lift you up and set you down again.

Even with those slightly clumsy moves, you had your eyes squeezed shut, the messy rhythm making his length brush every inch of your insides in the most intense way possible.

It didn‘t take Leo long to get the gist of this position that was new to the both of you, and once he found a steady pace, he got back to talking to you.

This jerk. He talked to you while he made you bounce on his dick and his voice didn‘t even shake one. bit.

"Who do you belong to?"

Your vision was blurry and it got even worse when yoj fluttered your eyes open, the edge of the pool in front of you shaking, moving up and down the way you were used to fuck your boyfriend‘s length.

Closing your mouth wasn‘t possible with the way lewd sounds kept spilling from it, echoing from the walls as if no one could possibly hear you and get behind your nasty doings.

"Y-you! Leo.. It‘s you, who o-owns me."

You felt him nod in approval from the way his nose brushed against your neck. Clapping noises from your body against the water were filling your ears together with your boyfriend‘s grunts and groans right at the shell of your ear.

"Thinking of anyone else right now? Glazing anyone else? Looking for the next good match?"

How, just how was his memory so fucking good? You could barely even remember the words you spoke to Geonwoo, yet when he points it out so obviously, that moment replayed in your head like a film.

Next thing you knew, you were spun around. Leo took a seat on the stairs of the pool, sitting you on top of his lap without ever pulling out. As he sat on the stairs where the water was barely up to your ankles if you stood, your clit that was filled with his cock became visible to you, the point that connected you.

"You‘re all that‘s in my mind."

You spoke as you locked gazes with Leo. The satisfied smile on his face got your south area burning, your words had his member twitching inside of you. There was a hint of approval in his eyes, something that read 'that‘s my baby'.

He didn‘t need to tell you what to do. Your hands settled on his shoulder, as firm as it was possible with his skin being slippery from the water. The tiles of the stairs were already scraping against your knees but you pushed that aside. There was something bigger to address.

Keeping up with the same speed that Leo used before, you got to work, heaving yourself off his length halfway and bouncing down, hitting his lap with your butt.

His head brushed your golden spot in the best way possible, pushing it like the button to your insanity. Leo had leaned back on his forearm, giving himself the best view of his favorite movie.

Your upper body was burning from the way your boobs kept bouncing freely, rubbing against your skin. Everytime you came down, the most sensual noises were drawn from you. To Leo, it was music. He couldn‘t keep tear his eyes off you, his beautiful girl that was only his.

Minutes passed with only the softness of your voices ringing through the wide space of the swimming pool. Your discarded garments long forgotten, who knew where they were flooding to? The only thing that mattered where your beautifully burning thighs and knees, your butt that felt spanked everytime it hit the thin surface of water that covered Leo‘s flexed legs.

You circled your arms tightly around his shoulders, cheek pressed to the top of his head. Your hips moved on their own without you putting much thought into it. All you could focus on was the knot in your stomach that was signalling your climax.

"I can feel you, baby. Are you close?"

You gave him a hum of approval, messy thrusts chasing your high but with your body slowly giving in, your bounces smaller and smaller, the end seemed still too far out of reach.

Cold air sparked your goosebumps as you were lifted off the pool with ease. Just how did he have so much energy left?

Carefully, Leo placed you on your back on the heated floor. Your legs that have been wrapped around his body for the entire time slowly slid off, your feet on the floor as you stayed spread out for him.

Leo leaned in, placing the softest kiss to your lips.

"Mine."

Your chest heaved as you returned the kiss, your palms placed on his buttcheeks as you pushed him back into you entirely.

"Finish me off, like I‘m yours."

As if possessed by your words, he followed your command. His snapping back and forth in a speed that didn‘t seem like he hadn‘t already done it in two different positions.

"Oh, L-Leo.. yes! Right there.."

Both of his hands pinned you on the ground by your shoulders, keeping you from sliding away by the shoves of his member. By now you were practically sobbing his name as he put stars into your vision with his actions.

You were so wet, so turned on, the mix of your liquids and the pool water allowing his cock to slide in and out of you so smoothly. Your legs that were propped up were already shaking, yet you felt like you could go on all night.

"I love you."

He spoke to your ear and that was all it took to push you off the edge. You came hard, heavily breathing, your eyes open but nothing but white specks in sight.

Sliding up both of your hands to Leo‘s neck, you pulled his face closer to you, nuzzling your noses together.

Warmth filled your insides as he came into you, filling you up bit by bit. The way you felt his liquid filling you like a bottle of water had you whimpering in desperation.

"I love you too. You‘re my one and only."

The tired but wide and genuine smile these words errupted from him, had you give a warm smile in return.

You exchanged one kiss, two kisses, more and more, both of your hearts so full of feelings that you completely abandoned the circumstances of your surroundings.

No more words were exchanged, only the sounds of wet lips moving against each other were enough to communicate your deepest emotions.

The mere sight of it was so intense that Geonwoo, who had just passed by the glass door to check whether every guest has left the party, just shook his head, laughing awkwardly to himself.

He decided he‘d spare you the awkwardness and do another round of strolling around his mansion before he‘d come to check on this area again.

He too felt jealous, of a love that was burning as the one you and Leo shared.

[karmicmortal]

what are your thoughts on jungwon begging for just the tip, promising no funny business with his deceivingly sincere and fervent face, he just needs to "feel his baby" and you can't bring yourself to deny him the small relief, but before you're even fully cognizant of what's happening, he's sunk into the hilt coaxing and sweet talking you into letting him spill inside 🤕

content warnings dubious consent, noncon elements, just the tip, no vaginal prep, jungwon is a bit evil and manipulative

don’t like it? don’t read it!

Jungwon loves how naive you are. How trusting. How that, with a little pushing, you bend to his will and give him everything he wants. Each and every time.

“Please, baby,” he breathes in your ear, grinding his hips against your ass. “I need to feel you.”

You stiffen your body and close your eyes. “Won…I really need to sleep. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

He presses his palm to your lower stomach, pulling you back against his hard and aching cock. “I’m so hard. Just the tip? I promise.”

Shaking your head, you try to pull away from him, but he holds you in place, still rocking his hips against yours.

“I promise it’ll be just the tip. I just want to feel you. It’s so hard it hurts. I’ll feel so much better if I can just put the tip in. I’ll let you go to sleep. Please.”

He begs and pleads and coaxes until you finally agree, albeit begrudgingly. It was late enough in the night and you should’ve been asleep over an hour ago. Not listening to your boyfriend bed to stick his dick in you. But he always has a way of getting you to agree. To cater to him and his needs, even when ignoring your own.

Soon, the two of you are naked from the waist down. You’ve got your leg lifted up to give him access to your hole, and he’s rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, attempting to slicken the skin. He adjusts the angle of his hips and begins to press into your tight cunt. It’s hard with the lack of sufficient prep beforehand, so it stings when he begins to breach the entrance, but you grit your teeth and bear it. The sooner his tip is nestled inside you, the sooner you can go to sleep—he promised.

Except he doesn’t stop. When your hole finally loosens enough for the thick head of his cock to slip inside, you expect him to stop and get comfortable enough to go to sleep. But he doesn’t.

You feel the familiar drag against your walls as he sheathes himself deeper inside you. Reaching back with one hand, you grasp at his hip in an effort to stop him. He grabs your wrist and pulls it up to his mouth, nipping with his teeth and pressing what were supposed to be apologetic kisses to the skin.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I know I said it would be just the tip. I’m so bad.”

It makes you whine when he’s fully inside you. Jungwon isn’t small, and taking him without preparation isn’t something you normally do, so it’s rather uncomfortable at the moment, but the contented sigh he lets out as your tight, warm hole wraps around his bare length tells you that you wouldn’t dare make him stop. Especially not when you turn your head and see his catlike eyes looking at you with such intensity. A look that you never even thought of defying.

“I’m so bad. I’m so mean.” He starts again, now gently rocking his hips. “I can’t help it. You feel so good. Squeeze me so tight. You’re even tighter than usual. Fuck. Makes me want to cum inside you. You going to let me do that?”

You try shaking your head, but he drops your wrist and grips your jaw with that same hand. With the control he has over your head, he makes you nod. He presses his thumb and forefinger into your cheeks so hard that it forces your mouth open. He uses this leverage to treat you like a puppet, moving your mouth and talking for you. “Say yes Jungwon, your cock feels so good. I want you to cum deep inside my pussy and fuck me all night. I want your whole cock.”

Tears brim your eyes, but you nod anyway. You always end up giving in to him. It’s what makes your relationship work—it’s simple.

[arelyvn]

ALL THE RIGHT PARTS - Y.JW

You dreaded going to the mechanic shop after messing up your car. Until you meet the extremely hot worker there, who does a whole lot more than just fix it for you.

yang jungwon x fem!reader

content warnings: smut, teasing, degrading, slut shaming, dirty talk, oral (m), unprotected sex, pussy eating, spanking, panty sniffing, car sex? (on the car..), mentions of alcohol, reader's a spoiled brat who needs to be put in her place, and Jungwons willing to, porn with a plot..let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 6k

As soon as he saw the Aston Martin DB9 Voltane, silver exterior, pink interior, with heavy damage in the front from most likely a rear end collision pull up, he knew exactly what kind of customer he was dealing with.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, the ones he has several pairs of, so he doesnt care if they get messy or not, he watches as you step out of the car. 

Predictable. Denim mini skirt, light pink baby doll top, hair freshly blown out, full face of makeup, and to top it off, playboy bunny heels.

He looks across the mechanic garage at Jay, who's already looking at him with a knowing eyebrow raised.

You grab your designer purse, looking around the garage, the smell of oil, and metal lingering in the air. You curse your father for making you do this by yourself. 

Watching as none of the workers here make any move to come forward and help you, you scoff. Typical of these low lifes.

“Does anyone actually work here?” You say, attitude leaking from your voice

He shakes his head stifling a laugh before making his way to you from across the garage.

You watch as a man, probably around your age approaches you, immediately noting how handsome he is, dark hair, defined features, cat like eyes that draw you in.

“How can we help you today?” He asks, tone calm, collected.

“Well clearly the bumper’s fucked up.” You say, hand signaling to the front of your car

His eyebrows raise slightly at your straight foward attitude.

“Yeah, I can see that.” His eyes drop to your tits for a split second, how could he not when they're practically spilling out of your little top

“So I need you to like, fix it” You say like its the most obvious thing, which it clearly is.

He walks around to the front, crouching to look closer at the damage, you watch his face

“yikes..” He says through his teeth, making a slight panic bubble in your chest

“What?” You ask, urgently needing an answer

“This baby’s gonna need some work that's for sure.” He stands up, walking around the car to check for any more damage

“Sensors are definitely damaged, we’re gonna have to order a new bumper, for this specific car it could be hard to find one. You might need a new engine too.” He looks at you, reaching into the front seat, finger hovering over the hood button “May I?” you nod

He pops the hood before going back around to look at the engine, you watch as another man comes to look at it, he must also work here. “Shit– V12 too, that's gonna cost a fortune to fix” The third party adds.

“Since it uses aluminum body panels, it's going to be harder to fix than steel.” The first one says, hand rubbing his jaw in thought, you look at them confused as ever because you don't know what the hell they are saying.

“I don't even know what that means. Can you fix it or not?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, completely oblivious to the way you're pushing your tits up more, and to the way both of their gazes drop to look at them.

“Yeah, I can fix it. But it's not gonna be cheap.” He says

“How much?” You ask, tone uncaring, this is just information your father needs to know anyway.

“It's not definitely not minor damage, parts are probably gonna have to be shipped from out of state, so maybe around 20-25 grand?” He estimates in his head

You don't bat an eye, “How long will it take then?” You ask impatiently 

“Well it sure as hell isn't going to be ready tomorrow, I'm thinking 3-5 weeks.” He says calmly

“That's like almost a month!” practically shouting at him

“Like I said, parts from out of state.” He adds, watching the way you pull out your phone, swiping frantically on it, you don't excuse yourself before walking a good 5 feet away to call your father.

He picks up on the 4th ring 

“Yes Y/n?” he says, bothered 

“Dad, they said it's going to take almost a month to fix it!” You say in your phone, completely unaware of how Jungwon and Jay can hear your conversation perfectly clear.

Typical, you have no sense of space either.

“Well that's what happens when you get your car wrecked.” he says

“But I can't survive a whole month-”

“Well you're going to have to, maybe if you weren't so careless with your speeding, and texting while driving, you wouldn't be in this situation at all.” You quiet down as he continues

“Ill have the driver pick you up, sign whatever papers they give you. You have my card right?” 

‘Yes.” You reply clipped, anger seeping in your tone

“Use it. I don't care for the cost” He adds, you hear the sound of papers shuffling in the back, knowing that the reason for his straight forward attitude is because he's at his office. 

“Fine.” 

“And y/n?”, "Don't be rude.” He adds before hanging up the phone, you bring it down to look at the screen, scoffing before shoving it in your bag and walking back towards the annoyingly hot workers.

They are both looking at your engine when you walk back towards them, you watch the first one look up, before he tells the other one to grab the papers.

He comes back with a clip board and hands it to you with a pen, you scan it, looking at the first box, ‘Mechanic Name’, you look up at him

"What's your name?” tone bored

“Jungwon.” He says, you repeat the name in your head. Leaning against the side of your car to fill out the rest of the form, rolling your eyes as you check off the boxes for the reasoning of your visit. The other worker is already back working on one of the other cars.

You hand him the clipboard without a word, watching his eyes skim over it before he lets a smirk show, what the fuck is he smirking at.

“What?” You ask rudely, making him stifle a laugh. 

“Nothin’ I just knew it’d be a rear end.” He says, pulling out a business card from his pocket

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Your nostrils flaring at the way he’s speaking to you.

“Just means girls like you are predictable.” He watches your face, ignoring the glare you’re giving him before continuing “Let me guess, you were on your phone”

You open your mouth to speak, to defend yourself but close it, because that's the exact reason why. He grins at that, knowing he’s right.

“Right. I'm gonna see exactly what she’s gonna need, and I'll message you the exact cost so you can come back and pay.” He says, handing you his business card

You take it reluctantly, hating the fact that you actually have to come back here again. You look down at the way his hand is still held out, looking down at the oil stained flesh in disgust before glancing up at his ridiculously perfect face

“What? Do you want me to hold your hand or something?” 

He chuckles lightly, “I need the car keys, princess.” You hide your embarrassment, obviously he needs the keys. You lean into your car, bending enough that your mini skirt rises slightly higher than necessary, revealing the pink lace panties from Victoria's Secret's spring collection, he ignores the way his cock jumps at the sight.

You hand him the keys, he looks down at them, resisting the urge to laugh at your key chains, the mini chanel heel, to the pink fluffy pom pom ball, before bring them down, finger hooking around the key ring

“kay’ so is that all?” You ask impatiently, kitten heel tapping on the ground lightly, “For now.” He says, shamelessly dropping his eyes to your glossy lips before turning around and walking back to his tool table.

You roll your eyes, making sure you grabbed everything out of your car before walking out of the garage, the faint smell of oil sticking to you. Yeah you're taking a long shower when you get home. 

“Y’know, you could've just got her card on file” Jay mutters, walking over to him

“Whats the fun in that?” Jungwon says, looking at the papers you signed, y/n. Pretty name.

-

People often referred to you as the ‘spoiled daddy’s girl’ type, to be fair you didn't deny it. Your father did spoil you rotten, after all he was one of the wealthiest men in the country. Obviously you took advantage of it, from the designer clothes, and bags, your whole closet screamed it. Your friends were rich too, naturally. You didn't want to surround yourself with people who leech off your money.

It had been three days since you saw your car, three days since you saw that sexy ass mechanic.

So what if you wore this outfit just for this specific occasion, you weren't completely clueless. You could tell when a man knew how to fuck, simply by his attitude, and Jungwon was screaming big dick energy.

You reapply your shiny lipgloss on your lips, as your driver pulls up to the shop. Looking down at your outfit, from the tight denim shorts to the white baby tee, you purposely didn't put a bra on with.

You smile sweetly at your driver before stepping out, your dior bag in one hand, and strawberry beverage in the other before walking in the shop.

You look around the shop trying to spot Jungwon, he had messaged you that he was able to find all the parts, and needed to double check with you to confirm the payment.

You don't like when people make you wait either. 

“God, this place is fucking slow.” You say before walking to your car, you pause when you him stand up from working on the engine of your car

“Sorry to keep you waiting princess” He says, putting the wrench in his hand down, dusting his hands off and standing up, he’s wearing a white tank top. Biceps, those biceps are all you can think about right now.

He runs his hand through his hair, pushing the messy strands back before walking past you. You try not to act shocked when he doesn’t even glance at your outfit– guy’s would fucking kill to see you in this. 

You hesitate a beat before following him to what you're guessing is some kind of break room..looking around from the desk, to the couch, to the ash tray sitting on the table in the center.

“Is this like a man cave or something?” You ask, stepping in the room like the floor would burn you, he lets out a low chuckle before sitting down at his desk, and pulling up the website for you to pay. 

You look down at his concentrated face before leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at it, slightly brushing your tits on the side of his face. He freezes for a split second before speaking without looking at you. “I need your card.” 

Standing up straight you reach in your purse pulling out your fathers black card and handing it to him. He scoffs, typing the numbers in “Daddy’s money huh?” He says, voice low before handing it back to you.

You roll your eyes, but you don't deny it either.

“Alright that's all I need from you.” He says, standing up and going back out to the main garage, passing Jay as he works on the engine for another customer. 

You watch him walk away, tossing your finished beverage in his office trashcan "That's all?” You say approaching him again.

“What do you mean ‘thats all’?” He turns to look at you

“You came here for somethin’ else princess?” Using that nickname again. 

He lets his eyes fall to your body, he knew you weren't wearing a bra the second he saw you. Not to mention those tiny shorts that don't leave shit to the imagination.

You must be fucking desperate to shown up looking like that here.

“No–I just thought” You huff out a frustrated breath, before pulling out your phone to text your driver to come back. 

He looks over your shoulder, no sign of Jay. He probably went to the office to smoke anyway.

“Thought what?” He watches the way you shove your phone in your bag, irritation on your features, even though he knows exactly what you thought. Plenty of girls think the same thing.

When you cross your arms over your chest like a spoiled brat he chuckles. “Thought I’d want you just cause’ you show up looking like a slut?” 

Your face switches from irritation to straight up anger “Fuck you-” 

“Yeah I'm sure you’d want that huh?” He smirks, not missing the way your nipples harden under his stare

You look past his shoulder to see the familiar black SUV pull up before looking back at him in his stupid tank top that shows off his stupidly big biceps.

You know what, fine. You're not wasting any more time on this asshole. 

“Dont scratch my car.” You say before walking out, he watches the way your hips sway, your ass begging to be let out of those tight shorts, pushing his tongue against his cheek before getting back to work on your car.

-

“You have got to be kidding me.” It had been a week since you last saw him. Yet here he is, at your favorite club..dancing.

You look at the girl he’s dancing with, the way she slides her hand under his shirt–of course he has fucking abs.

You're pulled from your thoughts when your friend taps your shoulder “Girl, what's going on?” 

“What? Nothing, I just need a drink. Bad.” You walk to the bar, flashing a smile that has the bartender immediately catering to you. 

You can't help but let your eyes stray back to the dance floor, to see Jungwon's hands on that bitches waist, smiling against her ear. You try to ignore the ting of jealousy you feel, what does she have that you don't?

After downing whatever your friend ordered for the both of you, and something more, you turn to face her “I wanna dance” you say, dragging her on the dance floor with you

You don't miss the look of recognition that passes along his face when he sees you walking towards the dance floor, the surprise making you grin.

Took less then 3 minutes to feel a pair of strong hands on your waist, you recognize the rough look of them immediately.

“Got bored of that little whore?” You say, purposely grinding your ass back against him

He chuckles against your ear, “Jealous?”

You scoff at that, which makes him tighten his hands on your waist, for a mechanic he sure can move his hips, hitting every beat with each roll against your body 

“You wanted it to be you huh?” he whispers, voice low

“Why would I voluntarily want to grind against your small dick?” you snap, earning a low chuckle from him

“Small?” He says turning you around to face him “Princess, I promise you nothing about my dick is small.” 

“Yeah?” You say, brow raised, looking up and down his form like he was your next Chanel purchase, “Prove it.” 

He smirks looking down then looking back up at your face, “You asked for it.” He rests his hand on your lower back before leading you two out of the club, you look at him curiously before he drags you into an empty alley, you can still hear the music from out here.

“What? Are you gonna fuck me here?” Your face shows irritation. Even though your heart is nearly beating out of your chest.

“No.” He watches your face, stepping closer till your faces are less than an inch apart, the rough brick of the club building digging into your head.

He trails his lips along your neck, breathing your scent in. You can't help the shivers that go down your spine, and straight to your core at the attention

He presses his hardening cock against your thigh, your breath slightly hitches at the contact

“You feel that?” He whispers against your neck

“What’s that, like 2 inches?” still not letting go of your bitchy attitude.

He chuckles low, but it's not jokingly, it's dangerous, knowing.

“Get on your knees, brat.” you hesitate a second before lowering yourself on the hard concrete. He almost could laugh at how quickly you listen

“Look at you, spoiled rich girl on her knees.” He looks down at you, the way your face is asking for specific instructions

“Go on.”

You hate that your hands are shaking when you lift them to unbuckle his belt, your tongue darting out to lick your lips before you look up at him, he nods, watching as you pull down his jeans and boxers in one go.

You nearly gasp at the way his thick, flushed cock springs out, slapping his abdomen with how long it is. Definitely not 2 inches. 

“You really are a slut huh? On the ground in the middle of some alley, just to suck dick.” He caresses the side of your face, in such a gentle way you would think he’s comforting you, his thumb swipes over your bottom lip urging you to open your mouth

You stick out your tongue for him, letting him stick his thumb down your throat, closing your lips around it, he pushes it in farther earning a small gag from you

“Oh sweetheart, if you can't handle this, how will you take my cock?” He says condensendly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and wiping it on the side of your face.

His eyebrows raise slightly when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and bring him closer to your mouth before wrapping your lips around the tip, the taste of his pre cum coating your tongue. He lets out a groan at how warm your mouth is, his hand coming down to grip your hair in his hand.

“Suck it like the slut you are.” His mouth hangs open slightly as he looks down at you

You mumble around his dick before taking more of him in your mouth, curling your toes in your heels to not gag, because then you would be proving his exact point.

Closing your eyes to concentrate, you take him slightly deeper, you whine when you see he’s not even fully in your mouth, making him chuckle at your desperate state.

“Let me help you out, yeah?” he says before gripping the back of your head harder and thrusting his cock into your mouth further, till your nose kisses his pelvis, he lets the most guttural groan at the way your throat convulses around his length, his other hand coming up to steady himself on the brick wall behind you.

You brace your hands on his thighs, gagging around his cock, before he pulls it out of your mouth, looking down at the way your saliva coats it, “Who’s small now huh?” He doesn't give you time to reply before shoving himself back in your mouth, biting his lip at the way you attempt to adjust to the length. 

You look up at him, the way his head is thrown back, the slight shine of his sweat coating his neck, before moving your hand down to cup his balls in your hand, the sound he lets out is fucking insane. 

“F-fuck–yeah just like that” He breathes out, watching the way you sloppily take him in your mouth, You swirl your tongue around the base, before sucking on the head of his cock sharply, massaging his heavy balls in your hand, when his grip on your hair loosens slightly, you know hes about to come.

“Can you s..swallow like a good girl for me?” He says through a moan, the vibration that comes from your mouth is your answer, he brings his hand down from the wall, gripping the back of your head with both his hands, before pushing himself deep in your throat, making you gag as he spills his warm load into you. He tries to stifle how loud he is, but fails miserably, he looks down at you, pulling his cock out of your mouth slowly, watching the way you swallow his come.

“Fuck that was hot.” He lets go of your hair, admiring the fucked out look on your face

“Should’ve came on your face though.” He says, stepping back, tucking himself in his pants and fixing his belt. 

You stand up wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, fixing the way your mini dress slid up your thighs

“That's all?” you ask, watching him finish buckling his belt before looking at you

He steps closer until your back hits the wall, lips ghosting over yours, you close your eyes slightly, waiting for the kiss, he smirks at that.

“I still have a car to work on sweetheart.” He says slyly, pulling back, not sparing you a glance before he walks out of the alley way. Leaving you, confused, and absolutely soaked. And that just won't do. 

-

You've been told countless times before that you have no shame, but you say it's just because you're bold. You know what you want, and you'll get it no matter what.

Which is exactly why you went back to the mechanic shop, claiming you left something in your car and needed it urgently. When you really just wanted to slip a little something into the center console, and you did just that.

“Jungwon” You watch as he works on your car's engine, sleeves rolled up, hair slick with sweat due to the spike in temperature today.

“Princess.” He replies back, casually. Like this is normal

“I think there's something wrong inside the car, can you look at it?” You ask sweetly, feigning innocence as he looks into the car, eyebrow raised

The vibration of your phone takes your attention, your drivers here. “You’ll know when you find it” You offer that smile that makes men go weak in their knees before walking out of the garage.

He watches you walk away, confusion etched on his face before looking in the cup holder, the second he opens the center console he feels the heat rush to his dick. His fingers wrap around the delicate lace.

He couldn't help but bring them to his nose throughout the day, just to inhale your scent, he swears he could get high off it.

Fine then. If you want to offer yourself on a golden platter to him, then he’s going to take it.

-

9:34

Jungwon: Your cars ready

You: Okay?

He chuckles down at his phone, already sensing your attitude through the damn screen

Jungwon: So, you can pick it up

You: Isn’t it a little late for me to come

Jungwon: Come get your car y/n.

You cant help the small laugh the slips past your lips at the message

You: Fine.

Yes, you purposely aren't wearing panties under your mini skirt, because if you're right, then you're not going to need them. 

The main garage doors of the shop are closed, so you opt for the regular one, the lights are slightly dimmer then usual, but you also haven't been here at night before. You pass by the other cars in the garage, the silence being odd for a place like this, except for the sound of your heels clicking on the ground with every step you take to your car.

Its completely fixed. The bumper is brand new, it honestly looks how it did when your father first bought you it.

You walk around the front of the car to take a closer look, when something solid, No. Someone solid presses against you, a gasp slips past your lips at the contact

“Can’t believe you actually came princess” He says, smiling against the back of your ear, his breath on your skin making you shiver

“You said the car was ready, so obviously I did.” You roll your eyes, even though he cant see it. But he senses it.

His hand trails down your body, resting on your lower stomach “Is that why you're not wearing any panties?” He asks, voice low, a rasp in it you recognize from the alley

“Coming in here with your pussy out. Like a slut. You're lucky it's only me here tonight." He brings his hands back up, cupping your tits in his hand

The filthy words he’s saying only making you all the more wet. You can feel the slick dripping on your inner thigh

A breathy sound slips past your slips as he kneads the flesh in his hands over your tank top “I knew they’d feel like this too” He pulls your tank top neckline down so he can really feel you, the way it slightly pushes your tits up more makes his dick harden in his jeans. “So fuckin’ soft” He knips at your ear before pinching your nipples with his fingers, you whimper at the touch

“Aw, so sensitive already?” He smirks, rutting his hips against your ass, making you have to brace one of your hands on the hood of your car

“Just..F-fuck me already” You say through a breathy moan as he bounces your tits in his hands

He laughs at that, actually fucking laughs. Nothing is funny when you’re in this state of desperation, in need of being filled so badly.

“God, you're actually so desperate it's embarrassing” He says, before pushing you down against the hood of your car, earning a gasp that sounded a whole lot like a moan from you.

He just looks down at you for a second, spoiled rich girl bent over your own fucking car, at his mercy. “Are you just gonna stand there-” You don't even get to finish your sentence when he yanks your skirt down your legs, the air hitting your pussy immediately

You spread your legs the best you can, just to show off for him. “Holy shit, it looks like you fucking pissed yourself” He drags a finger through your folds, collected the slick on his fingers, making you moan into the cold steel of your car

“I knew you’d be this wet, could smell it the second you walked in.” he says, plaming your ass in his hand, making your body jolt when you feel a sharp slap “The fuck-” You start but immeditly shut up when he pinches your clit inbetween his fingers

“Got even more wet from that huh? You like this shit.” He chuckles low before landing another sharp slap to your ass, the sound echoing in the garage

He soothes the burn with his hand, you look behind you, straining your neck when you see him get on his knees behind you, he’s not even looking at your face, his gaze is right on the way your hole clenches around nothing

He spreads your ass just to get a better look, you push yourself back against his face slightly “Stop being greedy.” He says, the tone in his voice asserting his authority, how much power he has in this right now.

You dont have time to come up with a bratty reply when he licks a strip up your pussy, collecting your juices on his tounge “knew you’d taste this fucking good too” He mutters into your pussy before burying his nose in your folds, absolutely inhaling your scent, his dick throbbing in his pants. “Oh my–fuck..” You breathe the words out at the feeling of his nose aligning perfectly. 

He smiles against your pussy before plunging his tongue in your hole making your hands attempt to claw at the hard surface beneath you, “Jungwon-!” You yell out, when his thumb comes up to rub small circles on your clit

He flicks his tongue against you, enjoying the way you squirm

“Want you to come like this” He mumbles into your cunt, fucking his tounge in and out of you at a criminally fast speed

You’re a moaning mess against the car, his name on your lips everytime you’re able to speak.

“m’ gonna come–” You breathe out as his finger speeds up its teasing on your sensitive bud, your juices are dripping on his chin, he sucks whatever you give him, the tight pressure making your legs tremble

If you weren’t bent over this car right now you’d definitely collapse.

You cry out when his tongue hits deep inside you, flicking in your pussy as you come on his face, he presses his thumb against your clit as he licks everything, taking his mouth off your cunt with a pop. 

You’re slouched against the car, knees weak trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

He stands up, licking his lips, not giving you any time to react before he flips you onto your back, “No thank you?” He tilts his head to the side slightly, studying your face

You look at him like he has two heads, even when you’re spread infront of him like his next meal, you still have a fucking attitude.

“Oh, but you want me to fuck you right?” He scoffs, before stepping closer to you, fitting right between your legs.

If he just presses against you more, you'll feel the hard bulge in his pants that you can see so clearly right now.

You nod at his question

“You’re so fucking spoiled.” He says before leaning down against you, rocking his hips into you, letting his clothed dick grind on your pussy

You whine at the feeling. He presses small kisses to your neck, trailing up your jaw, he watches your face, the way your eyebrows furrow, like it’s killing you that he’s not inside you right now.

He doesnt think before pressing his lips to yours, Its not sweet, or loving, its fucking unhinged.

You immediately let him in, arms coming up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer, his chest brushing against your hardened nipples, when his hand comes up to twist them in his fingers you moan into his mouth. “Fuck me Jungwon- please” you cry out desperately making him smile

“Yeah? Spoiled brat wants to be fucked on her fancy car?” He looks down at you as you nod frantically

“Words or else you're not getting shit.” He stands up straight, sliding off his shirt with practiced ease before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down, along with his boxers.

You watch as his cock hits his abdomen, the tip flushed red, you practically drool at the sight of it, at the familiar memory of sucking him off , a memory that has replayed every night since.

“Yes, I want you to fuck me, right here—please” Your face mimicks a pout that has him bringing his hand down to stroke himself in his hand 

“Like the slut you are?” He presses, wanting to hear you say more

“Only for you” You say, biting your lip at the way he squeezes his length in his hand

You watch him line the head of his cock with your hole,coating his dick in your arousal from earlier, and the new wetness thats fomed since, you’re so fucking easy to get wet its insane.

He brings his hand to hold down your hips, to anchor himself before he slides into your pussy, he watches as you squirm, trying to adjust to his cock, his mouth hangs open as he bottoms out,

“You’re so tight holy shit-” He breathes out, doing small movements with his hips to get you to adjust better

You can't even think right now with the way he’s stuffing you so full. He pulls out slowly before stamming back into you, watching the way your tits bounce at the movement.

“mmm..faster “ You say through a moan, he thrusts into you slow, teasing, even if it is taking everything in him to not absolutely drill into your tight cunt.

You let out a frustrated sound, that has his eyes leaving where you two connect, and up to your face, He thrusts into you harder, just see your tits bounce, before he brings his hand up from your hip to squeeze one in his hand. “You want me to go faster?” He asks, voice rough, strained.

“Yes–fuck-” You nearly scream when he delivers a harsh slap to your tit, the sting making you arch your back off the car, He smirks down at you, as the flesh turns a light shade of pink

“Use your manners.” He smooths over the flesh with his hand, fingers grazing lightly over your nipple

“Please..faster Jungwon–please.” You whine out, thats all it takes before hes lifting your leg to rest on his shoulder and ruthlessly pounding into you.

You cant even keep your eyes open as he fucks into you, the only sound being the ones coming from both of your mouths, and your wet pussy squelching around his cock as his balls slap your ass over and over again.

He watches the tears that swell in your eyes “Are you fucking crying?” He teases, thumb coming up to swipe the tear threatening to fall.

He feels the way your hole flutters around his cock, “S-shit princess” He groans out, leaning down to take you in his mouth, you immediately kiss him back

he swallows the moans you let out, letting you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him imposisbly closer

“I-im gonna come–fuck-” You manage to say, moaning into his mouth like a damn pornstar.

“Fuck yeah, come on my cock princess” He says through desperate pants of his own, when he feels you clench down even harder he thrusts into you deeper, letting your pussy suck in his cock as you reach your high, the feeling making him shoot his warm load inside of you, the sounds that leave both your mouths completing it.

His head is buried in the crook of your neck, you feel him start to soften inside you, a major part of you proud of yourself for making him come.

“That was–fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispers, pulling out slowly, the sensitivetly making you wince slightly, using his hands to help him get up, he looks down at you, the fucked out expression on your face before grabbing his jeans and putting them on, you watch him, before moving to get up but he stops you “What are you doing?” he looks at you like you're crazy “I- I was going to leave..” You say sitting up

“No you’re not.” Is all he says before picking up his shirt and using it to clean you “What-” 

“Im not a complete asshole princess.” He mutters, fixing your tank top and grabbing your skirt from the ground

“Plus, I want you to come back.” he adds, watching you put your skirt on

“To fuck?” You ask, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears

He can't help the small smile that paints his lips, watching you act like this, so clueless.

“And incase you rear end someone else.” he shrugs, watching the way your face instantly changes to irritation

“You fucking-” he pulls you to him, shutting you up with a hard kiss against your lips before pulling back

“Dont finish that sentence, because im perfectly fine with fucking you dumb again.” He warns, tone serious

That familiar playful look on your face tells him everything he needs to know, as you finish what you were saying.

-

Yesyesyes freaky won give him to me NOW

Okay hope you enjoyed <3

[yjnwonstars]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— mr. class president (y.jw)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄， everyone at school knows about your rivalry with jungwon, but what they don't know is what happens between you two after the school bell rings.

pairing: class president! jungwon x troublemaker fem!reader

genre: fake rivals, smut (basically pwp)

warnings: 18+ only MDNI — it’s not explicitly described, but despite the setting, both characters are of age! — lowercase, brat tammer! jungwon x brat! reader, pwp, enemies to lovers(ish), established but secret relationship, mutual pinning, smoking, degradation/praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc), edging, masturbation (m! and f! rec.), oral (m! rec.), unprotected sex (wrap it upp), breading kink, creampie, semi-public sex (in a classroom), spanking, dirty talk, cursing, they get caught in the act, prob forgot something, sorryy.

wc: 5,2k

author's notes: english is not my first language — don’t tell jungwon, but i’ve been rewatching en-drama. this fic has been in my drafts since christmas. i was supposed to post it after momentum, but i ended up getting way too carried away with talk to you. honestly, i can’t even imagine jungwon acting like this, but i wrote what i wrote.

taglist and requests are open! like and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ✨

masterlist

"you’re late."

the words cut through the chatter like a blade. every head in the room snapped toward the door as yang jungwon cut himself off mid-sentence. there you stood, the picture of casual indifference—your uniform just messy enough to get under his skin, a lollipop tucked into the corner of your mouth.

your eyes lazily scanned the room, not even bothering to look apologetic, before landing back on him. he was standing at the front of the class, whiteboard marker gripped in his hand, a list of names already scrawled behind him. he was likely taking charge of the upcoming class presentation—a deadline you knew was coming up but couldn't bring yourself to give a damn about.

"i don't see a teacher in here, so i’d say i'm right on time," you countered, your voice dripping with irony and a sharp, acidic edge.

the heavy click of the door closing behind you echoed through the silent room as you began the long walk to your usual spot: the very last desk in the back row, right by the window. you could feel the weight of a dozen stares following your every move. the students were used to your attitude, but the thrill of seeing someone actually talk back to the untouchable class president never got old. it was the best show in school.

"don't play dumb, y/l/n. you knew the first period today was for class alignment," he snapped back. his eyes didn't leave you for a second, tracking the way you carelessly tossed your bag onto the desk and slumped into your seat with a bored shrug. even from across the room, you didn't miss the way the vein in his temple began to throb. a slow, taunting smirk spread across your face as you swirled the lollipop between your lips.

"you’re right, i did know," you said, leaning back. "i just don't give a fuck."

you punctuated the sentence with a slow blink. for a heartbeat, you actually thought he might lunge at you. god, you were practically praying for it—and so was everyone else, their heads turning back and forth between the two of you like they were watching a high-stakes ping-pong match.

"you—" he started, his knuckles white against the marker, but he was cut off by a small, delicate hand resting on his bicep. jang wonyoung, the class vice president, leaned in with a sweet, nauseatingly polished smile. "wonie, let's not waste any more time. we really need to finish this," she cooed.

you felt a physical pang of annoyance at the nickname, your eyes rolling back so far it almost hurt. jungwon took a sharp, jagged breath, subtly shrugging off her touch as he straightened his blazer, forcing his composure back into place. "you're right, wonyoung. my apologies, everyone. let's move on."

his eyes flickered to yours one last time—intense, dark, and heavy with all the words he couldn't scream in front of an audience. you knew exactly what they meant. for now, he simply turned back to the board, resuming the soul-crushing task of delegating duties.

"i honestly don’t get what you get out of this," chaewon whispered, barely moving her lips as she leaned back toward your desk. "you were literally here at least half an hour before classes even started. why show up late just to cause a scene?" she tried to play it cool, staring straight ahead as if she were hanging on jungwon’s every word.

you just shrugged, leaning back in your chair. "where’s the fun in being early?"

chaewon rolled her eyes, a faint huff escaping her. "i’ll never understand your beef with jungwon. he’s actually a nice guy. and you... you have this whole bad-girl persona, but you’re actually smart. is it just an aesthetic or something? the rumors going around are that you’re actually into him and you do all this just to get his attention."

you scoffed, rolling your eyes so hard it almost hurt, and gave the back of her chair a sharp kick with your boot, forcing her to sit up straight. "they wish. like i'd ever have to try that hard to get someone’s attention."

​"hey, i’m not judging. it’s top-tier entertainment. but you know..." she shifted slightly, glancing sideways to make sure neither jungwon nor wonyoung were looking. "i actually believe that one rumor about wonyoung." you give her a confused look, arching an eyebrow. she shifts in her seat, clearly trying to hold back her excitement over the gossip. "no way you haven't heard! it's common knowledge that wonyoung is in love with jungwon and i bet they are actually dating in secret. if you ask me, i think they’re a boring couple, but it makes sense. they’re both so irritably perfect for each other."

"two little goody-two-shoes, huh?" a sarcastic smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

chaewon nudged your arm. "if you ask me, i think you two make more sense. in my opinion, straight-laced guys like jungwon need a little chaos in their lives. they go crazy for baddies like you. makes the story way more interesting."

she didn't see your reaction, her head now buried in her notes, but a small, knowing smile played on your face. your eyes drifted back to the front of the room, locking with jungwon’s for a fleeting second. he caught the smile, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion as he tried to figure out what the hell you were so happy about.

it wasn’t like you were the biggest troublemaker in school, or even a problem student in the general sense. you were just lazy and a bit careless, though your grades were excellent. actually you rarely skipped school, but skipping a class here and there? that was a different story. and that’s exactly how you ended up here—caught cutting gym class, resulting in an immediate detention. not that you weren't used to it.

you let out a heavy sigh, dropping your bag onto the floor of the old music room. a thick cloud of dust billowed up instantly, making you cough. your punishment this time was to deep-clean the place, and this kind of manual labor made you miss the good old days when detention just meant sitting in a quiet room with the school’s oldest teacher. rest in peace, mrs. choi; back then, she’d fall asleep at her desk, and you’d fall asleep at yours.

you ran a hand through your hair, messing it up further as you tried to figure out where to even start. fuck it, you thought. you reached into your bag, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and headed for one of the windows. your fingers moved with practiced speed, sliding a cigarette out and lighting it between your teeth. the smoke burned your lungs, forcing a bit of tension out of your body before you had to deal with the disaster of a room.

from your vantage point, you watched the students trickling out of the building. friends said their goodbyes, and teachers you didn't even know were capable of smiling looked thrilled to be leaving. and then there was you—stuck in a moldy, forgotten room, facing the consequences of your own actions.

"shitty, dusty-ass room," you cursed under your breath, the cigarette dangling between your lips. you threw yourself into one of the chairs, fuming, when suddenly the cigarette was plucked right out of your hand.

"you know, if they catch you with this, cleaning a dusty old room will be the least of your worries."

you jumped, startled by the sudden voice. you hadn't even heard him come in. your shocked reaction seemed to amuse him; he tucked your cigarette between his own lips, taking a slow, deliberate drag before crushing it out against the window frame. you were left pouting at the waste.

"fuck, jungwon! you scared the shit out of me," you growled, your irritation peaking.

he just laughed, the sound low and smooth in the empty room. there he was. if anyone saw jungwon like this, they’d never believe it was the same "perfect boy" whose hair was always flawlessly parted and whose tie was usually adjusted to the millimeter. the guy standing in front of you had his tie hanging loose, a cocky, even looser smirk playing on his lips. the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing just a hint of skin—barely anything, yet more than enough to make your stomach flip. his hair was a mess, clearly run through by frustrated fingers one too many times today. he looked delicious, and the sight sent a sudden wave of heat straight to your core.

"come to make sure i’m cleaning properly, president yang?" you teased, shifting in your chair. he rolled his eyes, scanning your body with an intensity that never failed to make you tremble.

"drop the act, y/n," he muttered, tossing his backpack onto the floor next to yours. he took the desk right in front of you, crossing his arms. you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over him, a lopsided smile on your face. "you did it again. in front of everyone."

"did what?" you asked, feigning innocence.

"challenged me. you love this, don’t you? provoking me in front of the whole school. pretending you’re the one in control when we both know you’re not."

he moved closer, and you fought the urge to scramble back. you stayed seated, battling every instinct that told you to run or give in. "i-i don't know what you're talking about," you stammered.

he laughed, his fingers suddenly hooking into your tie, yanking your face toward his. you shuddered but let him guide you until his lips were only centimeters from yours. "i guess i'll just have to remind you, then.”

the air between you turned electric, heavy with the scent of his cologne and the faint, lingering smell of the cigarette he’d just snuffed out. jungwon didn’t just look at you; he stared through you, his dark eyes stripping away every layer of your "bad girl" armor until you felt completely exposed. he yanked your tie again, forcing your chest to press against the edge of the desk.

"you think that little stunt this morning was cute? 'i don't give a fuck'?" he mimicked your voice, his tone dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "you were begging for a scene, y/n. begging for everyone to see how much of a brat you can be."

"and you gave it to me, didn't you?" you managed to bite out, though your voice lacked its usual bite. your heart was hammering against your ribs so hard it was dizzying. "you gave me exactly what i wanted. a front-row seat to the class president losing his cool."

jungwon’s smirk widened, but there was no warmth in it. it was the look of a predator who had finally cornered its prey. "i didn't lose anything. i just moved the venue."

in one fluid motion, he stood up and shoved the desk aside. the screech of metal against the floor echoed like a gunshot in the empty room. before you could even blink, his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly and slamming you down onto the cold, hard surface of the teacher’s desk. the sudden impact made you gasp, your legs dangling off the edge. jungwon stepped between them immediately, his body a solid, warm weight pinning you down. he leaned over you, his palms flat on the wood on either side of your hips, trapping you.

"you love being the center of attention, right? well, you have mine now. all of it." his hand moved from the desk to your throat—not squeezing, just resting there, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw as he forced you to look at him. "now, tell me, y/n. who's really in control here?"

you swallowed hard, your wet lips parting as you looked up at him. the "perfect student" was long gone; this was the jungwon that belonged only to you—the one who knew exactly how to break your pride and make you love every second of it. "i am," you replied, your voice trembling despite the defiance you tried to cling to. your body shivered beneath his, betraying you completely.

he let out a low, husky laugh that vibrated against your skin, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps down your arms. "you are, huh? let’s see how long that lasts," he murmured, his eyes darkening with a hunger that made your stomach flip.

he didn't waste another second. his hands moved with a sudden, bruising intensity, gripping your thighs and pulling you flush against him until there wasn't a single inch of air left between you. the friction of his slacks against your bare skin made you gasp, your head hitting the desk behind you as he reclaimed your lips.

it wasn't just a kiss; it was a claim. it tasted like the smoke from your cigarette and the mint on his breath—a chaotic, intoxicating mix that made your head spin. you felt his hands slide under your skirt, his palms searing hot against your skin as they traveled higher, finally hooking into the thin edge of your lace.

his mouth continued to stake its claim, asserting his possession over you, while his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties for only a split second. with every passing second, you felt yourself growing weaker, and he seemed to feed off the way you unraveled beneath him.

"won..." you whimpered, and he smirked against your lips, biting your lower one and drawing out a sharp moan. "what is it, sweetheart? did you want to say something?"

you didn't answer with words; you just pulled him as close as possible, forcing his covered erection to grind harder against your own aching pussy.

"such a needy girl," he chuckled darkly. his hand returned to your throat, snapping your attention back to his face, while his other hand gripped your hip with bruising force, pinning you still to stop you from rubbing against him. "won, please," you begged. if your voice hadn't already betrayed your desperation, the dampness between your thighs certainly would. he let out an amused, taunting huff, giving one agonizing grind against your heat that made you let out a broken whimper.

"please?" he repeated, his voice dripping with acidity. "oh, baby... why are you begging me so prettily if you're the one in charge?"

he let go of your neck and released your body, stepping back and leaving you completely wrecked. "won, no," you complained, but he just took a step back, savoring the sight of you falling apart. he stood there, watching you unravel with a calm, practiced satisfaction.

"you never learn, do you? every time you pull that 'tough girl' act in class, we end up right here. you’d think you’d be tired of being humiliated by now."

you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles turned white. "maybe i like it."

jungwon’s eyes flashed with something dark and hungry. "i know you do. that’s the problem." he didn't rush. he walked back to you with the steady pace of someone who knew exactly how the night would end. he reached out and grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at his arrogant, beautiful face.

"but you were especially loud today, y/n. interrupting me, mocking me in front of everyone... you were practically begging for me to put you in your place." he moved his hand from your chin to the buttons of your shirt, his fingers moving with a terrifying efficiency. "since you wanted so much attention, i’m going to make sure you’re too sore to even think about talking back tomorrow.”

his hands began unbuttoning your shirt with a level of calm you didn't possess at the moment. all you wanted was to rip the clothes off your body, but you knew jungwon didn't work like that—you were playing his game now. he tossed your shirt into some corner of the room and smirked, squeezing your breasts over your bra before flipping you over on the teacher’s desk. he pressed your upper body against the wood, leaving your skirt-covered ass completely at his mercy. he hiked the fabric up, exposing your clothed pussy—which already had a tell-tale damp spot right in the center.

he let out a low laugh. "tell me, y/n... does watching me lose my cool in front of everyone turn you on that much?" he asked, his hand stroking your clit through the fabric. a whimper escaped your lips, but no answer followed. that silence earned you a sharp slap across your ass. "answer me."

"hm..." you whimpered. "no."

"liar." another slap stung your skin before he dug his fingers into the flesh, pulling your cheeks apart so the fabric buried itself even deeper. "you love pushing me, baby, but you always forget that you can't handle the consequences."

you were already a mess of moans and whimpers, and that was his favorite view. he could feel his own pulse thrumming in his pants, his cock hard and aching, but he wasn't going to give you what you wanted—not yet.

"w-won," you groaned, your nails clawing at the desk, searching for something to hold onto as your legs shook. the position left you blind to his movements; you were trapped, forced to wait in the dark for where he would touch you next—if he even decided to touch you at all. the silence in the room was heavy, broken only by your ragged breathing and the distant sound of a car passing by outside. you were pinned there, chest flat against the wood, feeling the cool air of the room hit your exposed skin while your lower half burned from the sting of his palm.

jungwon leaned down, his chest brushing against your back as he hovered over you. he didn't touch you with his hands this time; instead, he let the tip of his nose trail along the nape of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin. "you're shaking," he whispered, his voice vibrating through your spine. "is it because you're scared, or because you're desperate for me to finally stop talking and put you in your place?"

you let out a broken sound, your hips twitching instinctively, trying to find that friction again. "just... please, won."

"not yet." the sound of a zipper being dragged down cut through the air like a gunshot. your heart skipped a beat, your muscles tensing in anticipation. you heard the rustle of fabric, the shifting of his weight, and then, with a sharp, impatient tug, he stripped your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you completely bare under his touch. he pressed his own bare, throbbing length against the valley of your ass, the contact so sudden and intense it made your vision blur.

he gripped your hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to force your head up so he could see your reflection in the darkened window across from the desk. "look at yourself. look at what a mess my little brat becomes when i'm the one holding the reins. you want to act like you're so unbothered? like you don't give a fuck about anything? then why are you begging me to ruin you?”

you couldn't even form a coherent thought. the feeling of him, hard and ready against you, while you remained trapped in that vulnerable position, was stripping away the last of your pride. "i'm waiting, baby," he growled, his hips giving a slow, agonizingly shallow thrust against your damp panties. "tell me what you need.”

"i need you, won. please, i need you inside me," you pleaded, feeling his smirk against the skin of your back as he planted one last lingering kiss there before sliding two fingers inside you. you let out a cry of surprise and pure frustration. "no!" you exclaimed, and he just laughed, his cock brushing against your ass while his fingers were the ones doing the work. "no, won, please..." your words were cut off by a broken moan as he curled his fingers, hitting that spot he knew all too well.

"shh, baby," he whispered, the venomous sweetness in his voice drugging you, mixing with the scent of his skin, the smoke, and the stale air of the room. "we’re at school. you wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, would you?"

you couldn't even form an answer, just shaking your head while gasping for air, trying your best to muffle your moans. he added a third finger, fucking you with a sudden, bruising rhythm that made the world around you blur into nothing but heat and friction. he hooked his leg up, pressing his thigh firmly against your neglected clit, and you had to bite your own hand to keep from screaming as the pressure built to an unbearable peak. you were right there—teeth gritted, muscles coiled, seconds away from shattering—when, just as you were reaching the edge, he abandoned you.

he pulled away completely, the sudden absence of his touch feeling like a physical blow. the cold air rushed into the space he left behind, leaving you breathless, weak-legged, and utterly lost. you stayed slumped over the desk for a moment, your body still twitching with the ghost of his touch, your head spinning from the sudden drop in intensity. the only sound in the room was the sharp, jagged rhythm of your own gasping breaths. you turned your head slightly, your eyes clouded with a mix of frustration and longing, only to find him watching you from a few feet away.

jungwon savored the sight, a permanent, cocky smirk on his lips as he stepped back, satisfied with your whimpers and the wrecked look in your eyes. he sat back in one of the chairs, finally reaching into his pants to take hold of his own neglected length, beginning to stroke himself slowly. you whimpered, confused and feeling empty, and he just laughed. "since you love running that pretty, smart mouth of yours so much, why don't you put it to good use for me?"

you breathed heavily, your own slick dripping down your thighs. your fingers traveled up his stomach, feeling the fabric of his shirt before you got to the buttons, testing his reactions. he smiled in encouragement and you unbuttoned them one by one, leaving his chest exposed. you scratched him lightly and moaned; the insistent, proud thought that only you saw him like this always ran through your head in these moments. you smiled, and he caressed your hair, looking a little more like your usual boyfriend. the thought sent a jolt straight to your core, and you whimpered.

you looked up at him, a silent question in your eyes. he just tilted his head back, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "go on," he commanded, his voice rough with suppressed desire. "show me how much you want it."

taking a deep, shaky breath, you leaned forward, letting your tongue dart out to trace the heavy underside of his shaft, tasting the sharp, salty tang of his pre-cum. he let out a sharp hiss, his body tensing in the chair. you took him in slowly, letting your lips part to encompass his head, sucking gently. the warmth filled your mouth, his size a pleasant stretch. you worked your tongue in slow, deliberate circles, teasing the sensitive tip.

jungwon's fingers tightened on the chair's arms, his jaw clenching. a low moan escaped him—a sound of pure, raw pleasure that made your pussy clench against nothing in response. you took him deeper, moving your head with more confidence, feeling the gentle pulse against your tongue. he was already so hard, so ready, and the thought that you were the one doing this to him, bringing him to the edge, sent a thrill of power through your trembling body. you swallowed, pulling back just enough to lick your way down his shaft, savoring every inch, before taking him deep again, feeling him push subtly further into your throat.

"that's it, baby," he breathed, his voice strained. he reached down, his fingers burying themselves in your hair, guiding your head—not roughly, but with an insistent rhythm that had you gagging softly against him. "just like that. you were always so good at this.”

the sound of your soft gags seemed to fuel him, a dark flicker of satisfaction crossing his face even as his breath hitched. he didn't pull back; instead, his hand remained firm in your hair, his thumb stroking the shell of your ear in a way that felt almost like a reward for your obedience. he was unraveling, but he was doing it on his own terms.

"don't stop," he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly warning. "i didn't tell you to slow down, did i?"

you tried to look up at him, your eyes watering from the depth, but he kept your head pinned in place, forcing you to focus entirely on the sensation of him. his hips gave a sharp, sudden thrust, a raw groan tearing from his throat that he didn't even try to stifle this time. the sound vibrated through your chest, making your pussy ache with a desperate need for more.

you worked your tongue around the head, trying to swirl it just the way you knew drove him crazy, but jungwon was reaching a point where finesse didn't matter anymore. he needed the heat, the raw friction of your mouth. his other hand came down to grip your shoulder, his knuckles white as he anchored himself against you.

"fuck," he hissed, his head falling back against the chair, his throat bared and pulsing. "you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? trying to see how long i can keep my cool?"

he let out a jagged breath, his fingers tightening in your hair just enough to make you whimper against him. it was a reminder—a silent promise that no matter how much you made him struggle, he was still the one in charge. he leaned forward, his face inches from yours, his dark eyes blown wide and shimmering with a hunger that felt dangerous.

"look at me," he rasped, waiting until your tear-filled eyes met his. "who's in charge?"

you slowly pulled your mouth away from his length, finally giving him exactly what he wanted to hear. "you are, won."

you felt him throb against your hand, harder than before, his body coiled like a spring at the sound of his name and your surrender.

"good girl," he murmured with a dark, satisfied smile. he gripped your arms, firmly guiding you to stand up with him. your legs felt like lead, barely able to hold your own weight; if it weren't for his possessive grip on your waist, you would have collapsed right there on the dusty floor.

he steered you back toward the teacher’s desk, but this time, he didn't just pin you against it. he lifted you with ease, laying you flat on your back across the wood. he adjusted your body, spreading your legs wide until you were completely open and exposed to him under the dim lights of the old music room.

jungwon let out a low, guttural growl at the sight of you, finally positioning himself at your entrance. one hand braced his weight over your body while the other gripped your thigh so possessively his knuckles turned white. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss just as he drove himself deep into your cunt in one heavy thrust.

the force of him swallowed your sharp gasp, his mouth devouring the sounds of your surrender. he didn't give you a single second to adjust, immediately sinking into a rhythm that was hard and punishing—the kind of depth only he could reach.

the rhythmic creak of the desk was the only sound in the room, aside from your ragged breathing and his low, needy groans. jungwon was relentless, his pace increasing until every thrust felt like it was hitting the very back of you. he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, hot and damp.

"you’re taking it so well, baby," he rasped, his voice a vibration that went straight to your core. "is this what you wanted? to have your class president ruin you on this desk?"

you were spiraling, your head tossing back against the wood as the pleasure began to peak. you were so close, your walls twitching around him in a desperate plea for release. sensing you were right on the edge, jungwon reached down, his thumb finding your clit and beginning to circle it with a steady, maddening pressure.

the double stimulation was too much. your vision blurred, and a broken sob escaped your throat as you hit your climax. at that exact moment, jungwon let out a choked, primal sound. he pushed his chest away from yours, bracing his arms on the desk so he could look down and watch himself pumping you full of his load.

you watched him too—the sight of him undone, his head thrown back and his jaw tight as he spilled deep inside you. you felt every hot, thick pulse of his seed filling your cunt, a heavy warmth that anchored you to the desk. it was a complete, messy surrender, and as he finally slumped forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck, you knew neither of you would ever be the same.

"baby, i—" you were cut short by a sharp noise from the other side of the door.

"y/n?" your heart skipped a beat at the sound of chaewon’s melodic voice. you froze, paralyzed by the sudden intrusion, but jungwon moved with lightning speed. he pulled out of you, quickly tucking himself back into his trousers. he barely had time to throw his own shirt over your bare chest in a desperate attempt to cover you before the door swung open.

chaewon stood there, frozen. she found the two of you flushed, covered in sweat, and unmistakably post-sex. her eyes widened, darting from you to jungwon for a split second before her face turned a bright, stinging red. she slammed the door shut instantly.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you heard her shout from the hallway. despite the heat burning in your own cheeks, you couldn't help but laugh—at her reaction, at the situation, and at jungwon, who looked absolutely lost as he scrambled around the room, frantically gathering your scattered clothes.

he moved toward you, his usual composed demeanor replaced by a frantic, endearing clumsiness as he helped you slip into your clothes. once you both looked somewhat presentable, jungwon took a deep breath, trying to reclaim some of his dignity, and opened the door to let her in.

chaewon stepped back inside, her gaze glued to the floor, pointedly avoiding any eye contact with him. the room was thick with awkwardness, but jungwon just leaned over, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "i'll call you later," he whispered, his voice still a little raspy. he gave a final, bashful wave toward chaewon before hurrying out of the room, looking like the school’s most embarrassed class president.

silence hung between you and chaewon for a long moment until she finally looked up, her eyebrows raised. "so... you don't have anything you want to tell me?"

you just laughed, giving a casual shrug as you fixed your hair. "wonyoung is actually dating some guy who’s already in college.”

part 2 coming soon!

stream the sin: vanish

[moont0kki]

AMENNN

[heesvnqie]

So Fucking Perfect -Park Sunghoon

pairing:f!reader x Park Sunghoon (ENHYPEN) genre: sports romance, figure skating au, enemies to lovers, slow burn, explicit sexual content word count: 8.5k warnings: explicit sexual content (including dominance/submission, bondage with skate laces, ice play, edging/orgasm denial, dacryphilia, mirror sex, rough sex, squirting, creampie, plugging), intense emotional moments, themes of pressure and rivalry in competitive sports, mild possessiveness, tears during sex

You remember the exact day it all started like it was burned into your skin.

It was the middle of last year's off-season, and you'd just transferred to the top training center in Seoul after your coach decided your singles career had hit a wall. You were good—damn good—with triple-triple combinations that landed clean every time, spins that scored level four without breaking a sweat, but the judges never failed to scribble the same note on every protocol: "Lacking artistic expression. Needs more fire. More emotional connection."

Your coach pulled you aside one morning and said, "We're moving you to pairs. It's the only way you're going to learn how to feel something on the ice." You argued at first—pairs meant trusting someone else with your body, your jumps, your safety—but you didn't have a choice. Not if you wanted to compete at the senior level, not if you wanted medals that actually mattered.

That's when they introduced you to Park Sunghoon.

He was already on the ice when you arrived at the rink that first morning, gliding through smooth, precise figure eights in the center. His blades carved clean lines into the surface, the sound soft and rhythmic. He wore simple black practice pants and a fitted black thermal top that outlined his tall, athletic frame—broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, moving with each turn, giving him that effortlessly striking look he was known for.

He didn't stop skating when you stepped onto the barrier. Didn't acknowledge you right away. Only after a few more laps did he slow and glide over, coming to a precise stop in front of you. You had to look up to meet his eyes—dark, sharp, and completely unreadable. He took a moment to study you quietly, his gaze steady and assessing.

"You're smaller than I expected," he said at last, his voice low and even, carrying that calm, controlled tone you'd heard in interviews.

It wasn't warm or cold—just an observation. Then, without another word, he pushed off and returned to the center of the ice, clearly expecting you to follow. And you did.

The first trial lift set the tone for everything to come. His hands found your waist and thighs with confident precision, lifting you overhead in a simple press as if it required no effort at all. You felt the steady power in his hold, the way he kept perfect balance beneath you. When he lowered you back down, your bodies brushed briefly before your blades touched the ice again.

The coaches watching from the sidelines were immediately excited. "The contrast is perfect," they said, clapping their hands. "Your lines against his strength—this pairing has real potential."

Sunghoon didn't smile or celebrate. He just nodded once, his expression thoughtful, almost calculating. As if he'd already mapped out exactly how this partnership would work.

From that very first day, without ever spelling it out, he established the dynamic.

You were his partner now.

His to guide.

His to push.

His to shape into the skater—and maybe more—that he knew you could become.

As you left the ice that afternoon, still feeling the echo of his hands on your body, you sensed the first flicker of something intense building between you.

Something beyond the routines and elements.

The days blur into weeks, and every morning you step into the rink feeling a mix of dread and anticipation that knots tight in your stomach.

Sunghoon is always there first, already warmed up, carving perfect edges into the ice like he owns the entire surface. He doesn’t wave or smile when you walk in—just a quick glance that lingers a fraction longer than necessary before he continues his laps. You lace up quickly, heart pounding a little faster than it should, and join him on the ice. No good mornings. No easy chatter. Just the sharp scrape of blades and the quiet understanding that practice has begun the second your skates touch the rink.

The schedule is punishing. Six to eight hours a day, sometimes more. You start with basic stroking and pair holds—his hands finding your waist with practiced accuracy, pulling you close so your bodies move as one. His palms are warm through the thin fabric of your practice top, fingers splaying wide across your ribs as he corrects your posture. “Back straighter,” he says quietly, breath brushing the shell of your ear. You obey instantly, arching just enough that your chest grazes his, and you feel the subtle shift in his grip—tighter, more possessive, like he’s testing how much control you’ll surrender without being told.

The lifts come next, and they never get easier.

He starts with the simpler ones: a press lift where he grips one hand firmly on your upper thigh, the other at your hip, and raises you high above his head. You’re weightless for those few seconds, completely at his mercy, trusting the strength in his arms and the perfect balance of his stance. When he lowers you, it’s slow and controlled—your body sliding down the front of his until your blades touch the ice again. Your chest brushes his torso, your hips align for a heartbeat too long, and you feel the heat radiating off him despite the freezing air. His hand on your thigh lingers every time, thumb sweeping once across the inner seam of your tights before he steps back like nothing happened.

You tell yourself it’s just the nature of pairs skating. Contact is inevitable. Intimacy is required for the elements to look effortless.

But you know it’s more than that.

You catch him watching you when you think he isn’t looking. During warm-up stretches on the boards—when you bend forward, reaching for your toes, back arched and legs straight—his eyes darken, fixed on the line of your body. When you do off-ice conditioning later in the gym—core work that leaves you trembling, sweat tracing paths down your neck and between your breasts—he stands nearby with arms crossed, gaze steady and unreadable. “Again,” he says calmly as you hold a plank until your arms shake. “Don’t drop until I say.” And you don’t. You hold it until tears prick at the corners of your eyes, until every muscle screams, because the weight of his attention feels heavier than any physical strain.

There are moments that feel deliberate, even if he never admits it.

During pair spins, his hand is supposed to stay at your waist, but it drifts lower—fingers curling possessively over the curve of your hip, pulling you tighter into the blur of motion. When he catches you after a throw jump, he doesn’t just steady you—he yanks you in hard, your body colliding with his chest, your face tucked briefly against his neck before he releases you.

You feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat against your own, the way his breathing hitches for just a second, and you wonder if he feels yours racing too.

He never comments on it. Never acknowledges the tension that thickens the air between you with every practice. But you see it in the way his jaw tightens when you bite your lip in concentration. In the slight narrowing of his eyes when you laugh at something a coach says. In the way he adjusts your positioning over and over—hands sliding along your arms, your waist, your thighs—until every inch of you is hyper-aware of exactly where he is at all times.

By the end of each session, you’re exhausted—muscles burning, lungs raw from the cold air, skin flushed and sensitive. You strip off your gloves and hat in the locker room, replaying every touch, every glance, every quiet command. Your body aches in ways that have nothing to do with skating. You go home, shower, and lie awake thinking about the way his hands felt on you, the low timbre of his voice when he corrects you, the unspoken promise in his eyes that this is only the beginning.

You know he’s holding back.

And every day, you want him to stop.

It happens about three months into your partnership, during a week-long intensive training camp at a remote facility outside Seoul. The rink is smaller than you're used to, the air thicker with humidity from recent resurfacing, and the schedule is relentless—no days off, no distractions, just ice time from dawn until the lights dim late at night.

Your free skate program that season is sensual by design. The choreographer wanted passion, longing, the kind of emotion the judges always say you're missing. The music is slow and heavy with strings, full of dramatic pauses and intimate moments. There are long, lingering lifts where your body drapes over Sunghoon's shoulder, spreads where your legs open wide around his hips as he carries you across the ice, and a death spiral that pulls you so low your hair sweeps the surface while his grip on your hand and thigh never wavers.

You've been running the program over and over, refining every detail. Sunghoon is meticulous—stopping every time something feels even slightly off, making you repeat sections until your legs burn and your lungs ache. He's been quieter than usual all week, his focus razor-sharp, his touches during elements firmer, more deliberate. You tell yourself it's just the pressure of camp, the upcoming competitions looming.

But on this particular afternoon, something shifts.

You're midway through a full run-through. The music swells into the big lift sequence—the one where he grips your upper thighs from behind, hoists you high, and then flips you forward so you're facing him, legs wrapped around his waist for a slow rotational carry. It's meant to look effortless, romantic, charged with tension.

This time, you lean into it more than you should.

As he lifts you, you arch your back harder, letting your body press fully against his. Your chest molds to his torso, your hips roll subtly against him as you settle into the hold. You feel it immediately—the way he stiffens beneath you, not from strain but from something else. A low, almost imperceptible hitch in his breath against your ear. The sudden tension in his arms as he completes the rotation, lowering you slowly, deliberately, your body sliding down his until your blades touch the ice.

You land perfectly, but he doesn't let go right away. His hands stay on your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to hold you there for an extra beat. When the music moves into the next element, he releases you abruptly and skates ahead, jaw tight, eyes fixed forward.

The rest of the run-through is flawless on the surface, but the air between you crackles. You feel his gaze on you during every transition, every hold. By the time the final pose hits—your body bent backward over his arm, his face inches from yours—the silence after the music ends feels deafening.

The coaches clap and call it a day, praising the improvement in "emotional connection." Everyone starts packing up, heading to dinner. You linger by the boards, unlacing your skates slowly, heart pounding for reasons you can't quite name.

Sunghoon doesn't leave with the others.

He skates slow laps at first, cooling down, but you feel his attention on you the entire time. When the last coach waves goodbye and the doors close behind them, the rink falls quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigeration and the scrape of his blades.

Finally, he stops. Skates over to where you're sitting on the barrier, still in your practice dress—black this time, sleeveless, with a low back that exposes your spine. He doesn't sit. Just stands in front of you, tall and imposing, arms loose at his sides.

"You did that on purpose."

His voice is low, controlled, but there's an edge beneath it you've never heard before.

You look up at him, trying to keep your expression neutral even as your pulse races. "Did what?"

He steps closer, close enough that you have to part your knees slightly to make room for him between your legs. One hand comes up slowly, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your cheek before settling under your chin, tilting your face up to hold your gaze.

"That lift. The way you moved against me. You've been doing little things like that for weeks—pressing closer than you need to, holding eye contact longer, breathing harder when my hands are on you."

His thumb traces your lower lip, light but deliberate. Your breath catches.

"I thought I could ignore it," he continues, voice dropping even lower. "Focus on the skating. But you're making it hard. Very hard."

The double meaning hangs heavy between you. Heat floods your cheeks, your body, but you don't pull away.

"I didn't mean—" you start, but he cuts you off with a slight shake of his head.

"Don't lie. Not about this."

His eyes search yours, dark and intense, like he's looking for something specific. Permission, maybe. Or confirmation.

You swallow hard. "What if I was?"

The corner of his mouth lifts—just barely. Not quite a smile, but close.

"Then you should know the consequences."

He leans in, close enough that his next words brush warm against your lips.

"Every time you distract me like that, I lose focus. And I don't like losing focus."

His hand slides from your chin to the side of your neck, thumb resting lightly over your pulse point. It jumps under his touch.

"So from now on," he murmurs, "every distraction has a price. You'll pay for it. On the ice. Off hielo. However I decide."

Your breath is shallow, body thrumming with anticipation and nerves and something hotter, deeper.

"Do you understand?"

You nod, barely.

"Say it."

"I understand."

His eyes darken further. He holds your gaze for a long moment, then steps back abruptly, the space between you suddenly cold.

"Good."

He turns and skates away, leaving you sitting there breathless, thighs pressed together, heart hammering against your ribs.

That night, lying awake in your small camp dorm room, you replay every second of it—the feel of his thumb on your lip, the weight of his words, the promise in his voice.

You know things have changed permanently.

And for the first time all season, you can't wait for tomorrow's practice.

The rest of the season turns into a slow, exquisite torture that you both pretend isn't happening.

After that night at training camp, Sunghoon doesn't bring up the "consequences" again—not directly. He doesn't need to. The promise hangs in the air every single day, woven into every touch, every glance, every correction he gives you on the ice. What started as subtle tension evolves into something deliberate, controlled, and entirely his.

Punishments begin small and disguised as training.

You miss a timing cue during a twist lift? He makes you repeat it twenty times until your core is screaming and your thighs tremble so badly you can barely stand. "Again," he says calmly each time you land, his hands steadying your waist longer than necessary, thumbs pressing into the dips above your hips. When you're finally shaking and breathless, he leans in close under the guise of checking your form. "Better. But you know why we're doing this, don't you?" His voice is so low only you can hear. You nod, cheeks burning, and he releases you with the faintest curve of his lips.

You wear a new practice dress one day—shorter than usual, with a slightly lower neckline because the choreographer said it would photograph better for promotions. Sunghoon's eyes flick over you the moment you step onto the ice. He doesn't say a word about it during the entire session, but every lift feels different. His grip on your thighs is tighter, fingers splayed wider, pulling you harder against his body on every entry and exit. By the end of practice, the insides of your thighs are marked with faint red imprints from his hands, and you're so wound up you have to sit in the locker room for ten minutes just to calm your breathing.

Travel becomes its own kind of hell.

Because of scheduling and "team bonding," you end up sharing hotel rooms on the competition circuit more often than not. Sunghoon is always professional on the surface—polite, quiet, giving you first pick of the bed closest to the window. But then he changes in front of you without hesitation: peeling off his shirt slowly, revealing the sharp lines of his back and shoulders, the way his muscles shift as he reaches for a clean t-shirt. He stretches in the small space between the beds, arms overhead, abs flexing, knowing exactly where your eyes are. You pretend to scroll on your phone, but your reflection in the dark screen gives you away.

Some nights, he walks out of the bathroom in nothing but low-slung sweatpants, towel-drying his hair, water droplets still clinging to his collarbones. He catches you staring once and doesn't look away. Just holds your gaze in the mirror until you break first, face hot, thighs pressing together under the covers.

"Problem?" he asks softly, voice laced with amusement.

You shake your head, unable to speak.

He never touches you beyond what's required for skating. Never crosses that final line. But he finds a thousand ways to remind you who's in control.

During warm-ups at competitions, when the rink is crowded and chaotic, he'll skate up behind you and adjust your ponytail—fingers brushing the nape of your neck, lingering just long enough to make you shiver. In interviews, when reporters ask about your chemistry, he'll stand just a fraction too close, his hand resting lightly on your (perfectly appropriate) at the small of your back, but you feel the heat of his palm like a brand.

And the whispers—God, the whispers.

After a particularly strong performance where the crowd goes wild for your emotional connection, he waits until you're both off the ice and away from cameras before leaning in.

"You felt that out there?" he murmurs against your ear as you remove your skate guards. "That's what happens when you stop fighting me."

Or after a mistake in competition that costs you a few points: in the kiss-and-cry, while waiting for scores, his hand finds yours under the jacket draped over your laps. He squeezes once—firm, possessive—then traces a slow circle on your palm with his thumb. "We'll fix that later," he says under his breath. "My way."

You start living for those moments. For the way his control makes your body hum with anticipation. You find yourself pushing boundaries on purpose—holding his gaze a second too long during programs, arching into lifts more dramatically, letting your hands linger on his chest when he catches you. Each time, you see the flicker in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw. You know you're adding to some invisible tally he's keeping.

And you know he's going to collect.

By the time nationals approach—the final qualifier before the big international assignments—the tension between you is a living thing. Thick enough to taste. Heavy enough that coaches comment on how "intense" your partnership has become, how it's translating beautifully into your skating.

They have no idea.

You have no idea how much longer he can keep this up without snapping.

Or how much longer you can survive without begging him to.

Nationals are tomorrow. The qualifier that decides everything: who gets the international assignments, who gets the funding, who gets to dream about Worlds and beyond. The pressure has been building for weeks, layers of expectation pressing down on every practice, every run-through, every breath you take on the ice.

Today's session is meant to be light: one full run-through of the short program, one of the free skate, then some light elements and cool-down. No corrections. No stops. Just flow and confidence-building before competition day. The coaches are optimistic, saying your programs have never looked better, that the chemistry between you and Sunghoon is electric.

They have no idea how right they are.

You step onto the ice feeling the familiar knot of nerves in your stomach, but underneath it is something else: anticipation. All season you've been dancing around this edge, pushing just enough to feel his response, pulling back before it goes too far. Today, with the end of the season so close, with everything on the line, you decide not to pull back.

The short program goes perfectly. Clean throws, perfect timing, lifts that draw gasps from the few staff members watching. Sunghoon's focus is unbreakable on the surface: his expressions sharp and intense, his holds steady and commanding. But you feel the tension in his body every time your skin meets his. The way his fingers press a little harder into your waist during the pair spin. The way his eyes lock onto yours during the final pose and stay there long after the music ends.

The coaches applaud. Someone jokes that you're ready to win the whole thing. Sunghoon doesn't smile. He just nods once and skates to the center for the free skate.

This program is the dangerous one. The sensual one. Four minutes of slow builds and dramatic releases, of bodies pressed close and movements that blur the line between athletic and intimate.

You know every moment that could be weaponized.

Every lift where you could arch just a fraction more. Every transition where your hips could roll against his in a way that's impossible to ignore.

You use them all.

From the opening steps, you lean into the choreography harder than ever. In the first spread eagle lift, you let your back arch deeply, chest pressing fully against his as he carries you. During the transitional hold where your leg hooks high around his waist, you shift your weight deliberately, letting your body grind against his for one slow, deliberate second. You feel his reaction immediately: the sharp inhale against your neck, the way his grip tightens almost painfully on your thigh.

He doesn't falter. Not outwardly. The elements stay clean, the timing perfect. But you see the storm building in his eyes every time your gazes meet. You feel it in the increasing force behind each catch, each lift.

The breaking point comes during the big rotational lift near the end: the one where he holds you high above his head, one hand on your hip, the other gripping your upper thigh from behind, and spins slowly across the ice. As he enters the lift, you roll your hips back against his shoulder, pressing yourself firmly against the hard line of his body. You let out the softest breath: not quite a moan, but close enough. Close enough that only he can hear it over the swelling music.

His arms tremble. Not from your weight, but from something else. The spin slows for a fraction of a second before he corrects it, lowering you with perfect control. But when your blades touch the ice again, his hands don't release right away. They hold you there, fingers digging into your flesh, body pressed flush against yours from chest to thigh.

The music ends. The final pose holds: your body bent backward over his arm, one leg extended high, his face inches from your throat.

The coaches erupt in applause from the sidelines. "Beautiful! That's the one that'll win it!" someone shouts. "Take that energy into tomorrow!"

Sunghoon doesn't move. Doesn't acknowledge them. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and burning with something that makes your heart stutter.

"Enough," he says under his breath, so low only you can hear. The word is quiet, but it carries the weight of every moment he's been holding back all season.

The coaches call it a day. Perfect timing. Rest now. Ice baths. Early dinner. Everyone starts packing up, chatting excitedly about tomorrow. You linger by the boards, removing your gloves slowly, watching as the rink empties person by person.

Sunghoon doesn't help pack. Doesn't cool down properly. He skates slow laps around the perimeter, waiting.

The last coach waves goodbye. The door closes with a heavy thud.

The rink is empty.

Silent except for the low hum of the lights and the soft scrape of his blades as he stops in the center.

He looks at you.

Then he skates to the main entrance.

You hear the click of the lock engaging.

Echoing through the vast, empty space.

He turns back to face you, expression unreadable in the harsh overhead lights.

"All season," he says, voice carrying easily across the ice. Calm. Controlled. But laced with something dangerous.

"You've been pushing."

He starts skating toward you slowly.

"Testing."

Closer now.

"Teasing."

He stops just in front of the barrier where you're standing.

"Today's the last time."

His hand reaches out, fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.

"Get off the ice."

It's not a request.

He pulls you toward the door that leads to the locker rooms. Not roughly, but with absolute certainty. You follow without resisting, heart pounding so hard you can barely hear anything else.

The men's locker room door opens under his hand. He guides you inside, the heavy door swinging shut behind you both.

The click of that lock echoes too.

You're alone now.

Truly alone.

And whatever has been building all season is finally, finally about to break.

The door locks with a final, heavy click that echoes through the empty locker room. The air is colder in here than on the ice, sharp with the faint metallic tang of equipment and lingering traces of sweat from earlier practices. Rows of lockers line the walls, benches run down the center, and on one side, a long wall of mirrors reflects everything: the dim overhead lights, the scattered towels, and now you and Sunghoon standing in the middle of it all.

He doesn't speak at first. Just looks at you, his dark eyes unblinking, chest rising and falling steadily while yours races. Then he steps forward, closing the small distance between you, and the heat radiating from his body cuts through the chill.

"Take off your dress."

His voice is low, calm, but there's no mistaking the command in it. Your hands tremble as you reach for the hem of your practice dress, pulling it up and over your head in one motion. You're left in just your tights, panties, and sports bra, goosebumps rising instantly across your exposed skin. He watches every second, gaze dragging slowly over your body like he's memorizing it.

"Everything."

You obey. Bra next, then tights and panties peeled down together, leaving you completely naked under the harsh lights. Your nipples harden immediately from the cold and from the way he's looking at you, like you're something he finally gets to unwrap after months of waiting.

Sunghoon steps closer, circling you slowly. His fingertips trail lightly over your shoulder, down your spine, making you shiver. When he's behind you, he presses his front to your back, letting you feel that he's already hard, thick length straining against his pants and pressing firmly against your ass.

"All season," he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin there, "You've been teasing this pretty little body at me. Grinding on me during lifts. Moaning softly when my hands are on your thighs. Making me lose focus."

His hands slide around your waist, one splaying possessively over your stomach, the other cupping your breast, thumb flicking your nipple until you gasp.

"Tonight, you don't get to tease anymore. Tonight, you take what I give you."

He releases you abruptly and walks to his gear bag on the bench. From it, he pulls out his skates, unlacing one long white skate lace with deliberate slowness. Your breath catches as he returns, taking both your wrists in one hand and raising them above your head.

The lace is cool and smooth as he binds your wrists tightly together, knotting it securely before looping the excess around a high locker handle. It stretches you up onto your toes, arms pulled high, body completely exposed and helpless. Your breasts thrust forward, back slightly arched, legs parted just enough to keep balance.

Sunghoon steps back to admire his work. His eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide.

"Look at you," he says softly, voice laced with approval and something filthier. "So fucking perfect like this. Tied up and waiting for me."

He moves to the injury cooler in the corner, the one always stocked with ice packs and loose cubes. Scoops a handful into a thin towel, letting a few cubes clink audibly as he wraps it loosely.

The first touch of ice against your nipple makes you cry out, sharp and sudden. The cold burns, shocking your heated skin as he circles it slowly, watching the peak harden impossibly further. He switches to the other nipple, pinching it lightly between frozen fingers until tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

Down your stomach next, tracing icy paths over your ribs, your navel, teasing the sensitive skin just above your pussy. Your thighs tremble as he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs wider with firm hands. He binds one ankle loosely to the bench leg with another lace, ensuring you stay open for him.

Then the ice trails lower.

Along your inner thighs first, slow dragging lines that make you sob from the freezing burn. Your skin feels alive, every nerve screaming. When he finally presses a single cube directly to your clit, you jerk hard against the bindings, a broken cry escaping your lips.

"Sunghoon, please, it's too cold,"

He holds it there mercilessly, rubbing in tight circles while you shake and sob, tears starting to spill down your cheeks.

"Shh," he soothes, voice deceptively gentle. "Take it for me. Such a good girl, crying so pretty already."

Another cube joins the first, sliding through your soaked folds, teasing your entrance without pushing inside. The contrast of freezing cold against your dripping heat is maddening. Your pussy clenches around nothing, aching for friction, for warmth, for him.

"Please," you whimper, tears streaming freely now. "Please touch me. I need,"

He stands slowly, pressing his clothed body against your naked one, letting you feel how hard he is.

"You need what?" he asks, lips brushing yours. "Need me to warm this needy cunt up? After all the times you've made me hard on the ice, you think you deserve it yet?"

You nod frantically, sobbing harder.

He smiles, dark and slow.

"Not yet."

He drops the towel, letting the remaining cubes scatter across the floor, and replaces cold with heat: his mouth closing over your clit in one hot, wet suck that makes you scream from the sudden shift. His tongue is relentless, licking broad stripes through your folds, fucking into your entrance while two fingers plunge deep and curl hard.

You climb fast, higher than you thought possible after the ice, hips bucking desperately against his face. But right as your walls start fluttering, right as you're teetering on the edge, he pulls away completely.

You wail in frustration, tears flowing freely, body shaking with denial.

He does it again.

And again.

Fingers pumping fast and deep, thumb grinding your clit, then stopping just before you tip over.

Tongue fucking you until you're babbling, then withdrawing.

He even grabs a vibrator from his bag, small and powerful, pressing it directly to your clit on the lowest setting while he watches your face, edging you for what feels like forever.

Every time you get close, he stops. Every time, you cry harder, begging incoherently.

"Please Sunghoon, please let me cum, I'll be good, I'll do anything,"

"Look at you," he growls, biting your inner thigh hard enough to leave marks. "Such a needy little whore, crying for my cock. This pussy's been distracting me all season. You cum when I say, not before."

He edges you until you're a wreck: body trembling violently, face soaked with tears, voice hoarse from sobbing his name. Until every nerve is on fire and you're barely coherent, dangling from the laces, completely at his mercy.

Only then does he stand, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes locked on your broken, desperate expression.

"Good girl," he praises softly, thumb brushing away a tear before licking it off his finger. "Now we can really start."

Sunghoon finally reaches up and unties the skate laces from the locker handle, your wrists still bound together but free now. Your arms drop heavily, tingling as blood rushes back, but before you can rub them, he spins you around roughly and pushes you forward toward the long wall of mirrors.

Your bound hands slap against the cool glass for balance, palms pressing flat as he kicks your legs wider apart. The reflection stares back at you: naked, trembling, tear-streaked face flushed and desperate, nipples red from the ice, thighs glistening with your own arousal and the melted water trailing down your skin. You look completely wrecked already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet.

"Look at yourself," he says, voice rough as he steps in close behind you, one hand fisting your hair to yank your head up so you're forced to meet your own eyes in the mirror. "This is what you've been begging for all season. This pretty, crying mess."

His other hand works quickly at his pants, shoving them down just enough to free his cock. It's thick, hard, flushed dark with how long he's been holding back, precum already beading at the tip. You watch in the mirror as he strokes himself once, twice, eyes locked on your exposed pussy, swollen and dripping onto the floor between your feet.

"Please," you sob, pushing your hips back desperately. "Sunghoon, please fuck me. I can't take any more."

He lines up, the fat head of his cock nudging your entrance, sliding through your slick folds but not pushing in yet. He leans over you, chest to your back, lips brushing your ear.

"Such a pretty little slut," he murmurs, voice dripping with dark praise. "Crying and begging so beautifully for my cock. You've earned this."

With one brutal thrust, he slams into you to the hilt.

You scream, the stretch burning as he fills you completely, bottoming out against your cervix in a way that makes stars explode behind your eyes. He's thick, longer than you've ever taken, and the angle has him dragging against every sensitive spot inside you on the first stroke.

He doesn't give you time to adjust. Just pulls back and thrusts in again, harder, deeper, setting a punishing rhythm that has your body jolting forward with every snap of his hips. The mirrors shake slightly from the force, your bound hands squeaking against the glass as you try to brace yourself.

"Watch," he growls, tightening his grip in your hair to force your head up again. "Watch me fuck this needy cunt. Watch how deep I go."

You can't look away. The reflection is obscene: his muscular body towering over yours, hips slamming into your ass, cock disappearing inside you over and over, glistening with your wetness every time he pulls out. You see the way your pussy clenches around him greedily, the way your thighs shake, the fresh tears spilling down your cheeks from the overwhelming intensity.

"So fucking tight," he groans, one hand sliding down to grip your throat from behind, fingers pressing just enough to make your head spin. "Taking me so well. Like this pussy was made for my cock."

You sob his name, walls fluttering around him as you get dangerously close again, the coil tightening fast after all the edging.

He feels it immediately and slows, grinding deep but not giving you the speed you need. "Not yet," he says, voice edged with control. "You cum when I say. Not before."

He fucks you like that for what feels like hours: brutal thrusts that make you see stars, then slow, grinding rolls of his hips that keep you teetering on the edge without falling. Every time you get close, he stops or changes pace, denying you again and again until you're crying harder, babbling pleas that don't even make sense.

"Please let me cum, please, I'll be good, I'll never distract you again, just please,"

He laughs low and dark, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks.

"Liar. You'll do it again tomorrow. And I'll punish you again."

His hand slips around to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that finally, finally push you over.

"Cum," he commands, slamming in deep. "Cum on my cock like the desperate little whore you are."

You shatter.

The orgasm rips through you violently, harder than any you've ever had, your pussy clamping down on him as you squirt messily around his cock, soaking his thighs and the floor beneath you. Your legs buckle, but he holds you up by the throat and hair, fucking you through it mercilessly, drawing it out until you're sobbing from overstimulation.

But he doesn't stop.

He forces you into another one almost immediately, fingers still on your clit, cock hitting that spot inside you relentlessly.

"Again," he demands. "I want more tears. Want you crying harder on my cock."

You do. You cum again, vision blurring, body shaking violently as another wave crashes over you, squirting even harder this time.

He keeps going, pounding into you through orgasm after orgasm until you're a broken, trembling mess: tears streaming endlessly, voice hoarse from screaming his name, pussy swollen and oversensitive but still clenching greedily around him.

Only when you're completely limp, barely able to hold yourself up against the mirror, does he finally let himself go.

"Fuck," he groans, burying himself deep one last time. "Take it all,"

His cock pulses inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt in thick spurts as he cums with a low, guttural sound against your neck.

He stays inside you, breathing hard, one hand gently stroking your hip now, almost tender after the brutality.

You watch in the mirror as he softens slowly, still plugging you full, his cum already starting to leak out around his cock.

"Good girl," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your tear-stained cheek. "So fucking perfect."

@heesvnqie | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

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[sapphling]

pawing at you for attention maturely and in such a way as to command your respect

[pinklatte444-deactivated2026072]

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isn't it delicate?

alpha!johnny x omega!female reader | nsfw | 11k words

author's note: omegaverse!au bc i'm crazy!!! but we are so back!!! obvi lots of smut, heat, scenting, typical a/b/o shiet… if u don't have a clue what this is, click here safe to say this is the craziest thing i've ever written… enjoy!!!

ao3 link

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Johnny was here. Standing in the middle of the busy coffee shop you worked at, looking down at you with that look that you could never read. His scent was as strong as ever, enough to knock you off your feet. Did he have to smell so good and also look like that? 

You hoped your own scent didn’t spike like your heartbeat did when you saw him walk in. He smelled so good, like a rainforest in the middle of summer. 

You remembered the first time you saw him, the first time you smelled him. Standing in front of the Neocity pack leaders, pleading for an open door, a new home. He had stared at you with a scrupulous eye, suspicious of your intentions. It wasn’t a secret that the Neocity pack was full of alphas. But there were more pressing matters at hand— you had to get away. 

Johnny had never seemed as affected by you as you felt by him. Your knees nearly buckled every time you were in his presence, and it was often that he barely gave you a passing glance. 

You weren’t even sure why he was here. You’d mentioned getting a job at the local coffee shop during the last pack meeting, earning a few supportive smiles. Mark and Jungwoo had come in earlier this week to see you, but in the short time in the city, you would consider them your closest friends. 

But Johnny? He didn’t seem interested in being anything more than your friendly next door neighbor. Or, at least he was friendly with everyone but you. You saw how he acted with the rest of the pack. All smiles and jokes and support. 

But with you… maybe you smelled bad to him or something. Why were you never on the receiving end of his silly dad jokes and supportive grins?

You stood behind the register, trying to lift your mouth into a customer service smile as he walked up to the counter. Your nerves were getting the better of you, but you held onto the register like it was your lifeline.

“Hi,” you said in a small voice, forgetting your rehearsed service lines. His presence was overwhelming. Sure, he was one of the three top alphas in the pack, which naturally made him more intimidating, but it was his physical presence that made you feel flushed and sweaty. You didn't even need to think about his power and authority. 

“Hey,” he offered a smile. You found it was quite pretty when it was directed at you.  “Could I get an Iced Americano?”

You nodded, plugging the order into the computer robotically. He paid for the drink with cash, and you prayed to the goddess he didn't notice your trembling hands or the way your fingers lingered against his. Every point of contact felt electrified to you. Your heat was coming in the next few weeks— it must be that. 

He seemed to pause as you passed the printed sticker and cup to your coworker.

“Uh, actually,” he spoke up, “I was wondering if you could make it?”

Your eyes went wide, trying to stutter out a response about being on register today. Why did he want you to make it? 

“Please?”

Johnny wasn’t the type of alpha who seemed like he was used to begging for anything. He asked nicely, the words soft, almost like he was trying hard to keep any hint of alpha command from them.  

You always wondered if alpha commands were even truly a thing, or if omegas just melted whenever the right alpha asked. You felt like you might do anything to make him happy, despite his typically cold demeanor toward you during your few interactions. 

Just as you called your coworker to return the cup, you heard the bell ring at the entrance. This was no unusual occurrence, but glancing up at the door sent your entire world spiraling in an instant. 

You couldn’t contain a gasp, lowering your face to hide from the unwelcome intruder. How was he even here?

“Y/N?” Johnny spoke. You knew your scent was spiking with fear as he asked, “Omega, what’s wrong?”

You quickly glanced up at him, your eyes wide. Johnny’s own eyes were full of alarm. 

The wheels in your brain were turning, searching for a solution before the alpha spotted you. You thought you were safe here. No one from your former pack even knew where you disappeared to. You didn’t think anyone, not even he would deign to follow you into the territory of such an alpha-populous city. 

You couldn’t go back. You were finally settling into a new routine, in a new space, and for the first time in your life, you had a small taste of freedom. The city was wonderful, the pack was great and even the standoffish alpha that didn’t seem to notice you was clearly concerned for you in the present moment.

Suddenly an idea sprouted in your head. You felt yourself getting lightheaded as you heard yourself speak. 

“I need you to scent me.”

Johnny looked like his brain malfunctioned, “What?”

You glanced over at the entrance where the man was still standing, looking around the coffee shop. He hasn't noticed you yet. 

“He’s here.”

Johnny looked over his shoulder, seeing the older man and immediately putting pieces together. He had been in your hearing, as you pleaded for sanctuary with his pack. He had heard the tale of why you had run away. Seeing that man, recognizing him, made his blood run cold. 

The alpha you had been auctioned off to in your former pack. 

“Johnny, please,” you pleaded in a hush, trying to return his attention to you. 

He looked back at you, his eyes calculating. Scenting you was probably the last thing he wanted to do, but it was the first solution you could think of that would get the other alpha to stay away from you. 

Scenting was laying a claim on someone, usually before mating. Scenting signaled that someone was taken, that someone was protected. It wasn’t always between lovers; sometimes scenting was done between friends, especially when preparing to go into large crowds or busy city streets. You’d only been scented a few times before, for concerts and festivals, your packmates ensuring you were spoken for before some random alpha got the wrong idea.

It wasn’t always an intimate thing. But it could be.

Your skin prickled at the thought of Johnny scenting you. Coating you in his woodsy scent and making sure everyone knew who you belonged to. Standing over you and laying claim. 

Scenting was the first solution you could think of, and even if it was a bad idea, your omega was much too interested in this option to think of any other ones.

You watched the gears turn in Johnny’s brain for a moment before he finally spoke.

“Come on,” he nodded his head toward the hallway leading to the store room. 

Didn't have to tell you twice. You heard yourself mumble something to your coworker about taking a break, before you followed Johnny discreetly before the alpha from your former pack could see you.

As you approached the small hallway to the backroom, he grasped your hand, covering your small palm with his large one, flooding you with warmth. 

You unlocked the storage room and flicked on the overhead light, before turning back to where Johnny had joined you in the small space. He towered over you, filling the space with his presence. You didn’t realize you’d been backing up until your shoulders hit the shelves behind you. Your hands were still connected and he gave you a squeeze. 

“Have you been scented before?” he asked, coming closer. You felt like you were being cornered by a predator but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Not when it was him. A rush of excitement went through you and you suddenly couldn't think of anything else. 

“A few times,” you responded. “Sometimes, from a friend in my old pack, before concerts and things.”

Johnny said nothing, but his nostrils flared at the statement. His eyes asked for one last confirmation as he brushed your hair away from the side of your neck. The cool air made you flinch but the feeling was quickly replaced with the warmth of him stepping closer. 

You closed your eyes, nodding slightly as you took a deep breath, bracing for impact. He leaned in, ever so slowly at first, before lowering his lips to the side of your face. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, beginning to trail feathery kisses down your neck. 

He was taking his time, you noticed, warming you up instead of going straight for the kill. He hadn’t even reached the scent gland beneath your ear. You were already feeling overheated, what would the next few minutes bring?

You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when he pressed a kiss to your gland, letting his lips linger for a moment before he gripped your waist more firmly, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your gland, fully scenting you. 

Your eyes flew open at the feeling. You noticed his scent got heady as it began to mix with yours. You found yourself gripping onto his jacket, losing yourself in his ministrations. 

Was there ever a time you were this turned on outside of your heat cycle? Johnny licked languidly at your gland, wrapping his arms around you fully as you began to melt into the feeling. 

Just when you thought you might pass out from the overstimulation, he moved over to the other side of your neck, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper you’d been trying so hard to keep in. By the time it slipped out, it was a full on moan. 

As if spurred on by the sound, Johnny gripped you tighter, sucking a kiss into your gland like it was his only mission in life. It left you gasping for air, letting out more sounds than you meant to. 

Johnny was trying to devour you completely. Was this really the same alpha that gave you the stink eye in the elevator most days? 

With his arms wrapped around you, you let your hands roam over his clavicle, his shoulders, up into his hair. His brown locks felt just as soft and fluffy as you’d expected. 

By the time he finally let up and moved his mouth away from you, you were panting for breath. 

You always knew scenting could be a sensual experience but this? It had never felt like this before. 

When you caught Johnny’s eye, you noticed he was breathing heavily too. He bit his lip like he was trying to hold back from something. 

Gently, he reached for the hand tangled in his hair. You pulled back apologetically, but he grasped your wrist fully, shaking his head. He ran his thumb over the glands that resided there. 

He looked into your eyes as he lifted your wrist to his mouth. You could feel his breath across your palm just before he licked a long stripe down the inside of your wrist, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. 

“Should make sure you smell like me completely,” he mumbled before planting kisses across your gland. 

Your wrist glands had never been very sensitive but with his gentle movements, you almost jolted back, feeling incredibly overwhelmed. You knew you were shaking but it wasn’t from fear anymore. In fact, you couldn’t even remember what you were afraid of in the first place. 

Before Johnny moved to your other wrist, he twisted you around, letting your back fall into his chest. Your head fit so perfectly into the crook between his shoulder and neck, and you let yourself go limp as he supported you, letting his warmth engulf you.

He lapped at your other wrist, keeping his other arm securely around you. You watched his movements with awe.

You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since you’d come into the store room, but finally he was pulling away, placing one last kiss on the top of her hand. Despite him being finished, he didn’t let go of you. He was so close, you weren’t sure of where your scent ended and his began. 

“You alright?” Johnny asked, the first words to pass between you in the last few moments.

You peered up at his face and found Johnny looking like he was coming out of a fog. You felt the same. 

Anytime you had ever been scented, it was overwhelming, but this was something else. This was something you wanted to experience again and again. To experience forever. 

With that thought, everything was coming back to you suddenly. 

The alpha from your former pack was here, in this territory, in this very coffee shop. He’d tracked you down, and you couldn’t even imagine what he expected to gain from trespassing into foreign pack territory.

But Johnny was here, too, in this coffee shop, in this store room. He’d come in to see you, specifically, if his request to buy coffee specifically made from you was any indicator. You had barely had time to process all the implications of that before things had changed so suddenly. 

And then he’d scented you. Johnny. The alpha whose presence had consumed your thoughts since you’d arrived in the city. The alpha who had been opposed to your petition to join their pack. The alpha who was kind and funny one moment, cold and standoffish the next.

You looked up in his eyes, and found them to once again be a mystery. They held a look of concern, but what else was he feeling? Did he feel as overwhelmed as you? You assumed probably not, despite the shiver of hope that ran through you. Do you feel it too?

You looked away, nodding slightly, still trying to catch your breath. “Could we just stay here for another minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” he adjusted his arms, letting you hug him back, wrapping your arms around his torso. He was so warm, both physically and emotionally. It caught you off guard. 

His head rested on yours as you nuzzled your face into his neck, letting out a shaky breath. Despite the fear that had returned to you, you felt safe right here. You never wanted to leave his arms.

Johnny ran a hand over your hair, speaking softly, “Why is he here of all times? It's been months.” 

Was Johnny keeping tabs on you? Paying more attention than you realized? The idea wasn’t so bad now that you thought of it. You noticed him often. In the hallway, at pack meetings, on the street. And you liked his attention. It felt good to finally admit that to yourself. His attention was so vastly different from the alpha you had run from. 

You didn’t even need to think about the answer. Creeping up slowly, you were never not aware of the truth.

“He knew my heat schedule,” you replied, “I’m supposed to be close.”

There was silence for a minute. Your words hung in the air. 

“Oh,” Johnny said eventually, and a lot was packed into such a soft syllable. A lot was packed into such a soft sound.

Your heat was still a few months off, thanks to some emergency suppressants you were  granted while dealing with moving and transitioning into the pack. But it would come again and you were already fearing how bad it would be now that you had put it off for so long.

He cleared his throat and the vibration made you pull away slightly to look up at him. 

“Well,” he said, “He can’t be here for more than 48 hours without alerting pack leadership. As an unmated alpha, he should’ve alerted Taeyong regardless.”

You buried your face in his chest, letting the warmth of this alpha calm you.

“How did he even find me?” you asked, mostly to yourself. 

But Johnny answered anyway. “I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” 

You nodded into his chest, letting his scent calm you down. 

“And,” he gave you a squeeze as he said the words, “If he sticks around, I’ll take care of it.”

His works were firm, full of strength and power. In that moment, there was no doubt in your mind that he would protect you. You felt warmth coil in your belly at the statement. 

He finally pulled away, taking a step back. 

“You should get back to your shift,” Johnny says. 

You gasped at the realization. “Oh my god, your coffee! I’m so sorry, I’ll make it right now.”

He brushes it off as he opens the door and takes a peak out into the coffee shop. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he holds the door open for you. “But hey, I think I’ll stick around until the end of your shift, make sure you get home okay. Is that alright?”

You nod, feeling a rush of relief. You slipped back behind the counter and set to work making his Americano.

As you move around the small workspace, you realize you weren’t just enveloped in Johnny’s scent in the room, you were covered in it. Despite him going to sit in the corner near the entrance, his scent lingered, making you feel like he was right next to you. Even from far away he felt close. 

While you were busy making the coffee, you finally glance up to see the unwanted alpha isn’t gone, but staring directly at you, looking like you’re his next meal. Unlike when Johnny had looked at you similarly, this felt violating.

You thought you’d feel more scared, but with Johnny’s scent covering your senses, it dims the fear and leaves you feeling a little stronger than before. 

“Iced Americano!” You holler out to the shop, forgetting about the man watching your every move. He stands just as Johnny does. 

Johnny comes over and takes the coffee, but not without lingering. His hands envelope yours, holding the coffee together. 

He offers you a small smile, your worries melting away with his expression. Before you can pull away, he leans in, close like when he was scenting you just a few minutes ago. His lips ghost your ear. 

“You’re safe now, omega, I’m right here.” 

When he feels you nod, he sniffs lightly as he pulls away. 

“You smell good,” he smirks. 

I smell like you, you want to say, but the words do their job and have you fighting off a flustered blush. 

“Thank you, Johnny.” 

He lifts up his drink, “No, thank you.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After that, Johnny gets a little nicer to you. The next day, you both go meet with pack leadership to discuss the intruder in their territory and they promise to look into it more. You thank your lucky stars you haven’t run into him since he appeared in the coffee shop. Something about the confident way Johnny walks into the meeting has you questioning if he handled the situation himself before alerting the pack leaders. 

On the walk back to your apartment building, you notice Johnny seems a little more open with you, as he makes casual conversation about the weather and plans for the weekend. He keeps a protective stance as you walk, being the buffer between you and the road, and you see his head swivel to survey your surroundings as you go. 

Weeks pass and Taeyong tells you the alpha that had tracked you down isn’t a problem anymore. He is vague about the details and the relief you feel makes you not question the vagueness. Johnny looks satisfied when you share the news with him.

Your job gets easier and you start to enjoy it more as you learn the regulars, how to make popular drinks and bond with your coworkers. You make more friends and you start to realize you could actually consider yourself to be… happy, for the first time. 

It's a funny thing -- freedom, that is. 

As you get ready to head out to the monthly pack meeting, you hear rustling outside of your door. You assume Johnny is headed to the same place you are, and when you open your door, you see him standing there casually. 

He’s been coming into the coffee shop more often, and you suppose you could count him among your regulars. He always orders the same thing, and after the third time of asking you to make it, you just start making it by default when you see him walk in. 

Your heart always warms when he gives you that dazzling smile as he picks up the drink and gives you the cash. 

You aren’t really sure what he does for work, but he sometimes spends hours on his laptop in the cafe. He always takes a table with a view of the door, and occasionally you see him perk up when an unknown newcomer arrives.

He has a comforting presence and it makes you hopeful to find whatever animosity he held for you seems to have melted away. It’s not every day you have a big, strong alpha looking out for you.

Do you have a crush? Maybe. It’s fun to notice someone a little extra each day. Get a little giddy when you make eye contact. Your omega perks up and preens in his presence.

You’ve never even had the chance to have a crush before.It was kind of nice. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Mark knows something’s up. Mark took a liking to you from the start and you quickly became fast friends. Your energy matches well, and you find conversation is never dull with him. 

But now he likes to think he knows you pretty well. 

When you offhandedly mention Johnny one too many times during lunch, he scoffs. 

“So what’s going on with Johnny?” he asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

He waves his arms around at you, “What’s up with seeing him so much? You haven’t mentioned him before.” 

“Well he lives across the hall from me,” you reason. “But yeah, I guess we’re friends now.” 

You think back to him dropping off a dessert you like, or running into each other at the grocery store and unintentionally trailing after one other through the aisles. You think about how you let him borrow a book, knowing he would faithfully return it a few weeks later. 

“When did this happen?” Mark asks. 

You know he isn’t being jealous, just curious. Based on your conversations with Johnny, it seems like him and Mark have been close for a long time. 

“Remember when that alpha from my former pack came here? Around then,” you say. 

You pause but Mark’s raised eyebrow pushes you to continue.

“Johnny scented me… it sorta broke the ice I guess,” you say, hoping your small joke keeps Mark from thinking too much about it. 

But this is clearly news to the man.

“He scented you? He never scents anyone!” 

A rush of gratification flows through you but you tamper it down. “It wasn’t anything serious, it was just a safety precaution.” 

Mark gives you a look, like yeah, okay. “I think he likes you.”

“He does not like me,” you reply. “He’s friendly to everyone, you know how he is!”

“Still… interesting.” 

You poke your friend in the shoulder. 

“You’re just jealous that I’ve got a new friend.”

“And a new mate if this keeps up,” he replies. 

“Mark!”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

When it’s time for the monthly pack meeting, Johnny lingers in the hallway as you lock up, casually pausing before you both get on the elevator. He asks how your day was and you ask him the same. This has become routine now, unspoken but not unwelcome. 

He smells good today, like fresh laundry hanging out in the woods. While you’ve gotten more comfortable in his presence, his stature and status as an alpha seems to truly sink in. It's a basic instinct for an omega to fawn after an alpha. Normal, expected even.

And that’s just the issue isn’t it?

You love being friends with Johnny, from the little conversations to the funny jokes. The soft touches and the coffee shop routine.

But you also find yourself yearning for more. 

And sometimes you wonder if he might be yearning too. 

As soon as you get to the pack meeting at Taeyong’s place, he shuffles away to sit with his alpha packmates and you go visit with some of the omegas. Most of them are mated to the alphas already, but they welcome you with open arms, despite being a newcomer. 

Even while you settle in, and the leaders talk through updates and share important information, your eyes glance around the room. You can’t help the way your eyes drift to Johnny. 

Only to find him staring right back at you. 

You quickly glance away, feeling your heartbeat race. After a few moments, you look over again, to see him still looking your way. A ghost of a smile graces his lips when you make eye contact. 

It only takes a few moments for you to break away under the dominance of his gaze, feeling a flush rise across your cheeks. Was it always this hot in the room? 

The other omegas take you with them to dinner and you bask in their presence, enjoying being around them. Your last pack rarely let you interact with other omegas, facilitating your movements until you felt suffocated. 

You all end up at the mall afterward, strolling slowly through storefronts as the entire place begins to close. In one of the clothing stores, your group runs into a group of alphas doing the same thing you are. 

It's mere seconds before your eyes hone in on Johnny. 

His hair is a bit windswept and his face is rosy, like he’s been consuming alcohol. By the look of the rest of the group, he’s likely one of the more sober ones. 

You all walk back to your neighborhood as night descends upon your city. You hang back, watching the wild alphas try to make the omegas laugh. It’s amusing, and you can’t help but bask in the comfort you feel among your new packmates.

Johnny gradually starts walking slower, moving from the front of the pack to closer to you, until he’s strolling alongside you. He doesn’t say anything, but his presence is massive, and you find yourself smiling to yourself as you both walk along the sidewalk.

As you cross a street, a bicyclist comes out of nowhere, and Johnny is quick to pull you out of danger. His arm wraps around your torso and holds you close for just a minute longer than necessary, but as he pulls away, you nearly whine out. You don’t want him to go away, you want him closer. 

“Close one,” he says, as you both continue walking to catch up with the group. 

It's only a few more blocks until the group begins going their separate ways, and Johnny wordlessly guides you to your apartment building. 

As you walk up the stoop, you brace yourself to speak. Something in you wants to share a piece of your thoughts with him.

“Thank you, really, for everything,” you tell him as you walk into the lobby of your apartment. The elevator ascends slowly so you speak again. “I know things were rocky in the beginning, but I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me -- and the pack. I don’t even want to think about how I could’ve ended up in my last pack…” 

You catch his reflection in the elevator doors as he stiffens, like he doesn’t like thinking about it either. 

“I’m glad you’re here now.” His voice rumbles with the words.

The elevator dings and you step out ahead of him, pausing to look back at him. He looks like he might say something else, but he doesn’t.

“I’m really glad we’re friends, Johnny,” you say, trying to convey everything you feel. 

It’s a delicate walk you two step along, but you don’t want to overstep. He would say something if he was interested in you, right? He is the alpha afterall. 

Johnny makes sure you unlock your door before he steps back to unlock his own. The conversation is over now, you suppose.

You try not to question why your chest burns while you walk into your apartment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Spring arrives in the city and you feel more and more settled as the world defrosts. Work gets more manageable and you find yourself bonding with the members of the pack and enjoying exploring your new life. 

But something is looming. 

“Y/N, you need to find someone to spend your heat with,” Mark said in a serious manner. You weren’t sure you had ever heard Mark say anything so seriously before.

You sighed. This wasn’t new information. You knew he was right. You’d received an extra round of suppressants to delay your heat while you got acclimated to the city, but you could only do that so many times before it was dangerous. 

Your heat was coming whether you wanted it to or not. 

You had gone through a heat alone before and it was no fun. Running a hand over your face, you let out a groan. Why couldn’t you be even a tiny bit compatible with Mark? Spending a heat cycle with a friend was what your old friends used to do. You felt like your body was betraying you.

“Is there anyone in the pack you think you might be compatible with? Even just for a week?” he asked. 

Immediately your mind went to dark eyes and fluffy hair and broad shoulders. Overwhelming power mixed with a sense of humor. An alpha who brought you treats and made sure you were alright when you arrived back home every evening.

Mark’s eyes narrowed when your heartbeat increased. He might not be as attuned to your scents through your suppressants but he could still hear the little changes in your pulse. 

Your body was betraying you. Betraying your innermost thoughts that you didn’t want to acknowledge. You could barely admit your feelings for Johnny to yourself, let alone anyone else.

Even though Mark clearly knew.

“It’s Johnny, isn’t it?”

Your eyes went wide and in response Mark scoffed.

“Come on, Y/N, we can all see it.”

You nearly shuddered with embarrassment. Did the others talk about you? About how obvious you were?

“I can’t ask him to do that. He already does too much for me,” you reply, shaking your head vehemently. “Sure, he’s nice to me, but he doesn’t— no, he never seems affected by my scent. And anyways, he’s older, I’m sure he knows what he likes. And he’s an alpha, he would approach me if he liked me.” 

Your rationalizations sounded stupid as you said them out loud. And Mark clearly wasn’t buying it. 

“He likes you, Y/N. Why do you think he was so closed off at first? He was in trouble from the first moment he saw you.” 

You look over at your friend, letting the anxiety settle in your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to share a heat with Johnny. Share more than that. You wanted everything. But you loved your friendship with Johnny and it wasn’t something you wanted to lose just because you stupidly asked him to be your alpha for the weekend. 

It was all too much. Too many moving pieces. Too much at stake for a stupid heat to ruin. 

It all felt so delicate. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It didn’t matter if you were indecisive though. Your heat was coming and it was coming fast. 

You paced up and down the hall, trying to get the courage to knock on his door. Maybe if you did it on impulse, it wouldn’t be so bad when he rejected you. You could brush it off as no big deal when he says no.

But maybe he’d say yes. Maybe it would all be okay and not awkward at all and he would agree to fuck you all weekend, see you through your heat and maybe more— you couldn’t think like that. Just focus on one thing at a time.

You needed to get this heat over with. After so long without having one, it was making you especially irritated. You could feel your body temperature rising already. You were close. 

You could always go through it alone. That’s what you’d done in the past. You’d never gone through a heat with someone, but knowing Johnny was across the hall was causing your omega to wail at you. It would be madness to endure it alone with him right there, so close yet so far. 

You at least had to ask. 

You took a deep breath before knocking. 

As soon as you did it, you wanted to run but you heard shuffling on the other side of the door and then Johnny was standing there, looking as delicious as ever. 

He was wearing a button up shirt and slacks, his hair tousled in that usual way that looked so effortless but you knew him better now, he styled it like that. It made you want to ruffle your hands through his hair and mess it up for real. 

“Johnny, I have to ask you something.”

You’re sure he knows what it is before you say it. You can tell he smells you, and it makes you want to explode from the nerves. Your impending heat isn’t helping anything either. Omegas were not the ones who usually took the first step, and your behavior was grating against your instincts, but you had to do something. 

He gives you a questioning glance, rolling up his sleeves haphazardly, seemingly nervous to see you. Why is he nervous? 

Johnny glances behind him and you follow his gaze to his kitchen table, where a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates sits. You look back at him and see his dress shirt, his soft and freshly washed hair, and as much as it all sends a rush through you to see him like this, it also washes away all of your hope. 

You should’ve known. Of course he already has an omega for the season. He’s probably been wining and dining her for weeks before her heat. Buying her flowers, chocolates, dressing up for her. Your heart hurts at the thought. How could you be so stupid? He carried in your groceries and came to your coffee shop because he was nice. Why did you let Mark convince you otherwise?

You needed to retreat. Your omega was in distress and you needed to leave before this got any worse. You felt lightheaded from the complete turn, but it was fine, it was going to be okay, you’d done this before alone, you could do it again.

“I’m sorry, I’m bothering you, I should go—” you say, backing up. 

“No!” Johnny exclaims, reaching out to halt your retreat. “I’m not busy, ask me.” 

His eyebrows are knit with concern but you’re already shaking your head.

“No, it’s okay, you’re clearly busy—” 

“Omega,” he says, cutting you off. There’s a hint of an alpha command in there, and you think to yourself, oh, that’s what it feels like.

Johnny looks almost sheepish, like he wasn’t intending to use that tone. He lets out a breath before beckoning you to come closer. 

“I think I know what you came to ask me,” he says, and you feel as if you might die of embarrassment. Here it comes, the rejection, the ruination of your friendship with this perfect alpha across the hall. 

You open your mouth to apologize when he speaks again. 

“Let me help you.” 

You can’t help but be stunned into silence. What? 

“Your heat,” he says, a tone of determination laced into his voice as he stands at the threshold of his apartment with you.

“I know you’re close,” he says and your insides feel on fire as he speaks. He takes a deep inhale to prove his point. “I know you came over to ask me to see you through your heat. My answer is yes. So let me take care of you.”

Your cheeks are on fire at this point. “But what about—” you gesture to the items on the table. 

He lets out a sheepish laugh, running his hand through his hair. “It’s for you. I know we’ve been dancing around each other, so I just, I was trying to be romantic.”

“Oh,” you gulp. 

He smiles down at you. “You just caught me off guard.”

You attempt a smile but your brain is fried, and you’re sure there’s a line of sweat down your back at this point. Not only is your heat approaching, but you’re feeling overwhelmed by the alpha in front of you. 

Who is all dressed up, being all romantic, for you. 

You let out a shaky breath, and Johnny inhales deeply as you do. You know he can tell your scent is getting stronger. 

“Fuck, you’re close,” he says. “I was hoping to take you to dinner but I don’t think we’ll make it before…” 

“Before?” 

He grabs you by the waist, pulling you into him. You feel every ridge of his toned body, his warm hands, his eyes pouring into you. 

“Before I fuck you senseless for three days straight.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before kissing you. It’s forceful, like he’s trying to put all of his bottled emotions into the kiss, biting your lip and letting your tongue dance with his. 

But it’s also soft somehow, just like how you’d expect him to kiss. It’s dominant yet careful, assertive yet gentle. You clutch his shirt as he continues kissing you, and you don’t even think of how many wrinkles you’re causing until he abruptly pulls away. 

“But that’s okay,” he continues the conversation like he didn’t just kiss you within an inch of your life. What were you talking about? “Dinner can wait. I’ll take you out next week, alright? I promise. We’ll do things out of order, but it’s okay.”

You can’t help but giggle at his determination to do things romantically. 

He presses a kiss to your cheek, lingering there to trail kisses down your jaw to your scent gland below your ear. You both shudder at the sensation, his mouth spreading shivers down your spine as he sucks a mark into your gland. You know your scent is spiking even more. 

You push him back gently before you come right there in the hallway. He lets out a grunt of frustration but collects himself, knowing this isn’t the place to be doing this.

“Your apartment or mine?” he asks, running his hands up and down your arms softly. 

You think about your room and how content you are with your new home. You’ve been unintentionally nesting for weeks at this point, making everything ready for your impending heat. 

Typically an omega’s home is sacred, something only a few select people are allowed to see. When Johnny would bring in your groceries, he was always cautious, always asking permission to enter and being careful not to touch or move anything. 

But now you want him there. Want his scent to linger and for your home to be filled with him. For the next few days and forever. 

“Mine,” you reply, offering an affirming nod. 

He tells you to go back to your apartment and get comfy. He’ll be over in a few minutes after he grabs some clothes and items for the weekend. 

You pace around your apartment, with half a mind to just take off all your clothes before he gets there. But no, you can’t very well open your door naked. So instead, you tidy up your already clean apartment, moving things just right so that everything looks perfect.

Perfect for alpha.

Never before have your nesting instincts felt like they would be under such intimate scrutiny. 

A knock on your door brought you out of your reverie. You opened it to find Johnny looming in the doorway, a tote bag in his hand and a dark look in his eyes.

“Do you want this? Make sure you want this,” he says, not moving to enter your home just yet. Asking for permission.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks at this point,” you say. “I’ve been thinking about you, alpha.”

His chest puffs with satisfaction at your words, but he still doesn’t move. 

“I need a verbal confirmation, omega. Because if I come inside, I’m not leaving until your heat is over.” 

Your entire body tingles at the thought. You appreciate his need for consent but your body continues to burn hotter and hotter, leaving you itching to get closer to him. 

“Johnny, I want you to fuck me through this heat,” you say, opening your door wider, nearly pleading him to come inside. 

He takes one step inside your apartment, setting the tote bag down on the ground near your entryway. You see some food and clothes inside along with the flower bouquet; your heart squeezes at the thought. 

“And after that?” 

His question catches you off guard. You can barely think about the next five minutes, let alone the next five days. 

“After?” You squeeze your legs together. 

He cracks a small smile, almost like he forgot you were about to lose all normal sense once your heat started in earnest. 

“After your heat,” he said. “This isn’t just a one time thing for me, I feel like I’ve made that clear. We can talk after I just… if we do this, I’m all in.” 

You grab his collar and press a firm kiss to his lips. Your heat is nearly upon you, but you hope the kiss conveys everything you feel for this man standing in front of you. It’s too much for words to express. You pull away and gesture to the tote bag.

“Oh, just some things so we don’t starve. Some clothes for me later,” he says. “I’m not leaving this apartment until your heat is over.” 

You nod eagerly at his words and the serious way he reiterates that statement. Johnny looks around the space, and you watch his face carefully to see his reactions. You hope it’s enough for him, you hope you’re enough for him. 

But his eyes are back on you, looking up and down from head to toe. You’re the only thing he’s focused on.

“Are you getting hot yet? Feverish?” he asks. 

You gulp, noticing the way his voice seems to have dropped an octave. You roll up your sleeves, and realize that yes, the back of your neck is coated with sweat and your clothes need to come off. Soon. 

Johnny thinks so, too. 

“Take off your sweater.” The words are barely out of his mouth before you are doing what he says, thankful to be rid of the itchy fabric. You stand in front of him with just a camisole on. “Good girl.”

Your omega hindbrain preens at the praise, but you take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. 

Johnny stalks toward you, and you look up at him like prey watching a predator. Your backside hits the back of your couch, making you jump. 

“Are you sure you want this? You’re keeping your distance,” he asks. 

You grip the edge of the couch to ground yourself. 

“I guess I’m just a little scared.” you admit.

Johnny cocks his head. “Of me?”

You shake your head quickly. “No, just… this. I’ve never felt like this during my heat before, and it’s not even truly started yet.” 

His smile is sly as he finally steps into your personal space, and suddenly all you can process is his large body in front of you. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. 

“Of course.” There’s no hesitation. 

He softly grabs your wrists, pressing his fingers over your scent glands. You let out a whimper from how sensitive you are. His touch is sending shocks through your nervous system and even though he’s barely touched you, you feel your panties dampen. 

“Remember when I scented you?” Johnny asks. 

You nod, unable to form words as he gently rubs the pads of his fingertips across the sensitive skin of your wrists. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those little sounds you made,” he admits. “Wondered if I would ever get to hear them again.”

Before you can formulate a response, he brings one of your wrists up to his mouth, licking a long stripe across the gland. Quickly, he trades out to do the same to the other wrist.

You feel your eyes grow heavy as he presses kisses to your palms. He’s going slow, you realize, very slow. Warming you up, getting you comfortable with him. You haven’t been skittish around him in a while, but this is new territory.

Unfortunately, the slow pace is not what you want right now, no matter how much you appreciate it. 

“Johnny, can you just…” you trail off as he presses a long kiss to your wrist. 

“Hm? What’s that? Tell me what you want.” 

You flush thinking of everything you want. His lips, his body, his cock, his knot, his everything. Your insides clench at the thought of his powerful man standing in front of you, offering himself up to you on a silver platter. 

“You gotta tell me what you want, baby, how can I help if I don’t know what you want?” he teases, moving to press a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. 

You breathe him in, feeling lost in all the sensations. He’s been doing all the touching, so you place your hands on his hips, moving them slightly. Then you decide to be bold and palm his dick through his jeans. He’s big. You let out a shaky breath, thinking of everything that is about to transpire. 

“Just, just keep going? A little faster maybe,” you tell him. 

“Oh? Not going fast enough?”

He spins you around so your back is against his chest. He brushes your hair out of the way, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin around your glands at the base of your neck. You let out a moan at the sensation, at the suddenness. 

His hands slowly roam across your torso, squeezing your breasts through your thin shirt. They are so sensitive, and you can feel a layer of sweat begin to coat your skin as your heat sets in more fully. Soon, you fear you won’t have any more coherent thoughts. Just Johnny and only Johnny.

His hands slide lower, lower, unbuttoning your jeans so smoothly, you barely notice it until they are already undone. He cups your core so firmly, your knees nearly buckle at the closeness of him. 

“This what you want?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his lips to yours. 

You’re squirming against him at this point, feeling flush and sweaty but the most turned on you’ve ever been, rubbing yourself against his palm and fingers to get more friction. 

His tongue mingles with yours while you both rock your hips against each other. It's a slow kind of pleasure building, like the calm before the storm. 

Johnny trails kisses across your face, planting one last lingering kiss before pausing, drawing his face away from yours. 

You open your eyes— you didn’t realize they’d closed. Staring into his dark eyes brings you a bit of clarity, brings you back to reality. You’re currently pressed against the back of your couch, locked in his embrace, still presently rutting your hips against his hand. 

You let out a shaky breath, as you rock your hips against his hand, enjoying the steady pleasure emanating from him. 

“Feeling okay?” he says, his voice raspy. 

You gulp, feeling his fingers slide into your panties fully, his thumb massaging around your clit, not exactly pressing into it, but teasing. 

“Yeah.” Your voice is raspy, too.

He nods, petting through your hair with his hand not currently occupied in your panties. 

“Scenting should help the fever, calm your system,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, just as he directly rubs against your clit in the most perfect way. “You’re safe now, omega, I’m here.” 

The words burn your core almost as much as his fingers. What a gentle, soft thing to say while he teases your lower regions. You’re calm now but the fire is building exponentially. 

You left out a shaky cry, of pure emotion, of frustration and horniness. You just want to come just once. 

You grab Johnny’s wrist and push the flat of his palm against your core, rubbing yourself against him, trying to find the right pressure. You pant as you rub yourself against his hand. 

“I’m close, alpha.”

Johnny full on groans at the word, squeezing against you tighter, brushes his fingertips across a nipple that's now rock hard. Just as you’re finally starting to reach your peak, you feel him against your backside, hard and big, rutting against you himself.

His breath is heavy in your ear, panting for you.

“Take what you need, baby, I’m right here, I’m here for you,” he says. 

Those words are like music to your ears, as you finally reach climax, slouching across the couch as your legs turn to jelly. If Johnny wasn’t holding on to you, you’re sure you would’ve fallen over. 

You pant for breath, overwhelmed and overstimulated as Johnny keeps rocking into you, dry humping you like teenagers. 

The orgasm leaves your heat sated for the moment, but you know you don’t have long before the fever builds again. And this was going to last all weekend?

Once you’re safely standing, or at least leaning into the couch, Johnny unzips his jeans and furiously strokes himself, focusing on himself for a second while still keeping you close.

He nearly shouts as he comes, the sound leaving you shuddering. 

He picks you up after a few moments, carrying you to your bedroom. As you peel off your jeans and slide under the covers, you realize he’s slowly easing you both into this. Giving you what you both need without overwhelming you as your heat arrives. 

“See if you can sleep a little before your heat sets in fully,” he says, brushing your hair away from your face and stepping away. 

Panic slices through you. Where is he going? 

He gives you a soft smile when he sees your reaction. “I’m just going to change my pants. I didn’t expect to ruin my shorts like a teenager.”

You let out a sigh of relief and giggle a little at his words. 

“I’ll be back in a minute okay? Try to sleep,” he says again. “I have a feeling we won’t be getting much sleep this weekend.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He presses his lips into a firm line, standing over you. “Because the next time I come, it won’t be in my hand.”

Your core clenches, thinking about the image and you feel a rush of heat flow through you. 

Johnny goes to close the door behind him, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I promise.” 

You nod, feeling yourself calm down. You trust him. This is Johnny and you trust him. 

You settle into your sheets and close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep for a little bit. The orgasm did make you tired. 

And you have a feeling you’re in for a full weekend ahead. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wake up to heat. Feeling hot everywhere. You’re burning from the inside out. 

You kick off your sheets and try to sit up, but an arm across your stomach traps you in place. You whine at Johnny as you jostle him, trying to wake him up. 

He turns over, freeing you only to have you climb over top of him, straddling his hips. He lost his shirt in the middle of the night, and you’re at the point where you have no shame as you lick a strip across his clavicle, grinding down on his dick that’s already standing at attention. 

“Johnny, I need you,” you say, mouthing at his neck. 

He clears his throat, blinking sleep out of his eyes as your hands roam across his chest, memorizing every inch of this tantalizing alpha.

“I can tell, princess,” he replies, squeezing your hips as you grind against him. 

“I need more,” you whine. “I need everything, I need—”

He grasps ahold of you enough to get you to pause your hips, forcing you to focus on his face. His eyes are dark. He’s fully awake now. 

“What exactly do you need?” he asks, rubbing his thumbs across your hip bones. 

“I need your knot,” you say, surprised by how raw your voice sounds. 

“Yeah you do, baby girl.”

Before you can even think of a response, he flips you over, hovering over you like a predator. He immediately leans in, devouring your mouth in a hungry kiss. You loop your legs around him, trying to get more friction. You’re burning up from the inside, wondering if you’ll ever feel normal again. 

His hand dips between your thighs and his fingers circle your clit. Electricity and pleasure course through your veins, the sensation leaving you squirming underneath him. Your core aches, desperately needing more. 

His finger dips into you, slowly pumping it in and out and collecting your arousal against his fingers. It’s not long until another finger slides into your soaking cunt with ease. Pumping his digits frantically, the palm of his hand meets your clit over and over again. The nerves in your body burn as you’re feigning for more. 

Desperation entwines with your moans and he senses your need, causing his fingers to move at a brutal pace and helping you chase ecstasy. You come suddenly, the overwhelming feeling takes your breath away, leaving you panting. You’re so wet, you fear the stain your sheets will see after this.

As you try to catch your breath, you stare up at him, watching his eyes watch you. He doesn't move, and it leaves you a bit confused because 1. he said he was going to knot you, and 2. this orgasm didn’t provide nearly as much relief as earlier. 

You need more. 

Johnny knows it too. 

“No worries, omega, I’ll give you my knot,” he says, and it sends shivers down your spine. “I just need to make sure you can take me.”

You furrow your eyebrows as he slinks under the covers, and in a sudden movement, he leaves you bare when he rips your underwear off. 

“You won't be needing these this weekend…”

You don’t even have time to formulate a response before he flattens his tongue and licks a long stripe up your core, causing you to cry out from pleasure. 

If you thought you were wet before, it’s nothing compared to now. You feel feverish as he goes down on you like you’re the first meal he’s had after a month of starving. His tongue laps over your folds before the tip of his tongue flicks against your sensitive clit. He laps up your juices, tasting you and everything you have to offer him. He skillfully sucks on your ball of nerves and the coil in your abdomen tightens.

Your fingers grip the sheets, before you move to grab at his hair, trying to find something to hold onto as his tongue draws shapes across your clit.

He groans when you tug at his locks and you feel the vibration in your core, making you groan in return. 

It’s hard to believe this was the same man who held the elevator for you and bought flowers to ask you out. Right now, he seems like he wants to devour you. 

His fingers rejoin his tongue and the feeling is too much, it’s all too much.

Everywhere is hot and there’s too much sensation. 

“You gonna come on my fingers again?” he asks, peering up at you. 

As you stare down at his face, his mouth slick with your wetness, you’re overcome with emotion for this man, this alpha, and how much he’s doting on you. It seems as if your pleasure brings him pleasure and just the thought brings you nearly to the edge. 

“I’m close,” you reply. 

“Come one more time, baby, then I’ll give you my knot,” he says, peering into your eyes. “I know how bad you need it.”

You whine as he buries his face between your thighs and it's just a few more moments before you’re reaching your high. 

You feel worn out by the quick succession of orgasms but somehow still unsatisfied. You grab at Johnny’s shirt, pulling him back up to your level. He rests his head on the pillow next to you, gazing fondly as you come back to yourself. 

You can’t help but crawl into his arms, clinging to his frame even though you’re still so hot and feverish. The emptiness in your core causes you to cramp, clenching around nothing. 

“It hurts, alpha,” you cry out, finding yourself mindlessly rutting against his thigh, trying anything to cool the ache buried into your nervous system. 

“Ready for me to fuck you?”

You press kisses into his skin, sucking a mark into his neck just below his jaw. Coaxing him to give you what you want. What you need. 

“Yes please,” you sigh in relief as he disentangles himself from you to slide off his shorts. 

His cock springs out, full and hard, and your mouth waters a little bit from just the sight of it.

He chuckles as he settles you into the pillows. Despite the desperate need hitting you hard, he refuses to speed too quickly through this, taking his time to make sure you are as comfortable as possible as he positions himself over you. 

“Ready, omega?” he asks, nudging at your entrance with the tip. “Look at me.” 

You obey immediately, looking into his eyes as he suddenly thrusts into you, not fully, but enough to take your breath away. You’re so wet, there’s no issue as he slowly inches himself in further.

The both of you let out a throaty groan as he bottoms out in you, stretching you out perfectly. 

He stays still for a moment, letting you get adjusted to the feeling, as you move your legs to better accommodate him, letting him settle that much deeper inside you.

Despite the momentary stillness, you can feel him practically vibrating with want, raring to go. You open your eyes -- you hadn’t realized you’d closed them, feeling so full and content in the moment. 

“I’m good, you can move now,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too desperate for him to fuck you fully. 

He chuckles at your bluntness, but obeys your words, slowly rocking his hips against yours, gradually picking up the pace. 

As he sets a steady, ruthless rhythm, you’re unable to stop all the little sounds leaving your mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head from the feeling. Johnny seems to revel in it, nodding along to your moans and egging you on.

“Come on, baby, tell me how you like it,” he says, rutting into you.

You tighten your legs around his torso and reach up to loop your arms around his neck, playing with the short strands of hair near the nape of his neck as he thrusts. You want him as close as possible, despite the heat consuming you.

“Feels good, John,” you mumble out, not sure if you can say anything more coherent.

“Yeah,” he lets out a breathless agreement, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. “Even better than I dreamed.”

Despite all the sensations running through your body, the words stick to your skin like sweat. Had he thought of this as much as you had? 

“Feel so full,” you say, unable to think of anything else.

“Gonna feel even fuller…”

The thought of his knot is nearly enough to climax again, and you run your fingers across your clit to get extra stimulation at he keeps fucking you. You get quiet as you focus, but it’s only a few more moments before you come, the sensation washing over you in a burst of ecstasy.

Johnny follows soon after, the way your pussy clenches enough to bring him to release. His knot swells, locking him inside of you as he collapses on top of you. 

The weight of him feels good in your exhausted state, but quickly becomes too much as you feel yourself adjusting to his knot, sated from your heat fully, at least temporarily. You nudge him to move, so he transitions to his side, hugging you close to his body. 

“How do you fit me so perfectly, omega? Beyond my wildest dreams,” he murmurs into your hair. 

The quiet air around you leaves room for confession, and you find yourself speaking as well, despite the tiredness consuming you. You feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with your temporarily sated heat. It’s just him. 

“I didn’t even think you liked me at first,” you tell him, drawing shapes across his chest. 

“I’m sorry I made you think that,” he says earnestly. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “I was thrown off. I was a goner the first moment I saw you.” 

You think back to the day you pleaded for sanctuary in this new pack. A little omega, face to face with an entire lineup of alphas, determining your future. It was just four of them, pack leadership, but the tall alpha on the end wouldn’t stop staring at you. It made you freak out, back then, especially when you realized he was the one emitting the delicious smelling pheromones. Little did you know, he was taken aback by you too. 

You clutch even tighter to this big alpha surrounding you, inside you, consuming your entire body, physically, mentally and emotionally. It was everything you had dreamed it would be. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wake up dozing a little while later. You can’t tell how much time has passed, but it can’t have been long as you feel Johnny still buried deep inside of you. 

“Feeling better?” 

Johnny’s voice brings you to full awakeness, and you realize that yes, your heat is sated for the moment, your omega satisfied with the feeling of this alpha’s knot keeping you full and warm. 

You nuzzle your head into his neck, breathing in his heady scent. The room is full of pheromones that leave you in a lusty haze. 

“Once my knot goes down, we can eat something, that sound good?” he asks, threading his fingers through your hair. You made a sound of affirmation, but no words came out. “Keep resting, I’m clearly not going anywhere.” 

His chuckle reverberates through him and into you. His presence leaves you vibrating with pleasure, but as you shuffle your legs a bit to get comfy again, you find it's hard laying side by side while he’s still buried inside you.

“Can I be back on top?” 

He pulls back a bit to look at you, as much as he can while you two are locked together at the hips. 

“Yeah…” he picks you up and lays you on his chest, a sly smirk settling on his lips. “Does my baby like laying on me?”

You revel in Johnny calling you his, your omega bursting with emotion at the words.

“Mhm,” you rest your head next to his heart, finding his heartbeat a steady rhythm that could lull you back to sleep. “You’re comfy.” 

He settles in and wraps his arms snuggly around you, keeping you stationary. As if his cock deep in your cunt wasn’t enough to keep you close to him. 

You could get used to this. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The rest of the weekend goes the same, from scenting bouts to lots and lots of sex. It doesn’t take long for you to feel like Johnny’s meant to be here. In your home and in your life. 

He makes sure you both shower and bathe, makes sure you eat some food and drink some water before your heat flares up each time. He takes care of you in a way that doesn’t feel restrictive, it feels like love. 

Could that be what this is? 

By the end of Sunday evening, you both are eating some cereal after a vigorous afternoon of fucking on the floor of the kitchen. You’d initially come into the room to eat lunch, but seeing Johnny fit so perfectly into your home had you climbing him like a tree before you could even get the cereal boxes out. 

Despite the whirlwind, you can tell your heat is beginning to subside. A part of you will miss this simple lifestyle-- down to the basics and solely focused on each other. 

By the time you both are settled into bed once again, his knot deep in you, you know your heat is over. You’ll wake up feeling sticky with sweat and aching with exhaustion, but you won’t feel the unbearable need to fuck him like you did this weekend. 

But what comes next? Friday feels like a world away, when Johnny said he was all in. After the last 72 hours, will he still feel the same? 

You burrough your face into his neck, taking a deep whiff of his scent, trying to memorize it and hold onto it forever. If this is the last of it, you want to take it with you always.

“Is this the last of it, do you think?”

Johnny’s voice brings you out of your reverie. You sit up, still straddling him with his cock buried inside of you, pulsing and all consuming. 

“Yeah, it feels like it,” you tell him, reaching a hand up to move his hair out of his eyes, tracing the lines of his eyebrows, his nose, his lips. Memorizing everything. 

He melted into your touch, a soft smile gracing his lips. 

“Once we separate, I’ll help you change your sheets, clean up the bathroom. Do you want me to go after that?” 

Did he want to go after that? You’d never done this before. The thought of him leaving you all alone for the rest of the night felt isolating. Your omega couldn’t handle that just yet. 

So you decided to be brave. 

“Could you, maybe, could you stay?” you asked, looking at the headboard above him instead of making eye contact. 

When you finally looked back at him, he had a serious expression on his face, his eyebrows knit together. “Of course. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me out of your hair or not. I’ve never really gotten this far.” 

Your omega was awash with satisfaction to hear he’d never seen anyone else through heat. 

“I might be clingy for a few days…” you said. 

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Cling away.” 

He squeezed your hips in reassurance. 

“I meant what I said,” Johnny says. “I’m all in. I’ll take you to dinner this week, we can keep this going. However you want me, I’ll be there. Maybe one day I’ll even mate you.” 

You pressed your lips to his, unsure of what to say to his outpouring of emotion. How was he so perfect? It felt like he was everything you had ever dreamed of, everything you had told yourself wasn’t possible for you. 

“I like the sound of that,” you replied.  

fin. 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

HAHAHA GUYS WTF IS THIS. *runs and hides*

um so hi… we are so back... lol i've read omegaverse for a few years now and always wanted to try my hand at it…. 11k words later…. LOL this is definitely inspired by every other a/b/o fic i've read in the past and i fr wouldn't be here without them. shoutout clicking on a random fic on ao3 in the middle of utah in 2018!! haha

special thx to @sehunniepotwrites for putting up with my endless ideas even tho she was like girl wtf are u doing…. and @aquarius-johnny who'd never before seen a/b/o before i explained it to her and immediately hopped on the train and genuinely made the spicy scenes sm better. LOL love y'all<3

if u liked this pls comment, pls reblog, pls send me asks, i'd love to know what u think of this craziness…

and if i told you i also have a haechan omegaverse fic almost done…… tee hee

[moont0kki]

alpha!johnny on my brain 24/7😵‍💫

[marvelousmoony]

fanfiction is so beautiful because what do you mean i can read the same characters falling in love 92737389 times in different scenarios and not get tired of it.

[moonyontrack]

don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude

[strawxbunny]

i love when ppl say “that’s so you” it feels good to know i exist and have a vibe

[allamericandogboy]

i am unfortunately a sucker for “kissing practice” that escalates to making out with a little too much interest. and escalates. and escalates.

[moont0kki]

fuck yes

[larval-tear]

somewhat horny: i have to get Fucked!

quite a bit horny: can we pretend i’m an elven prince and the necromancer’s curse turns me into a demon on the full moon and the only way to cure me is to have my Womb filled by a chivalrous knight . and can you make sure you say soem shit like ‘forsooth’ and ‘by my honor’ and stuff. mngh

hornier than anyone has ever been: i need to kiss someone and get married

[moont0kki]

truth

[sungiepark]

23:46

pairing - haechan x fem!reader

summary - haechan & shotgunning. that's it. that's the tweet.

wk - 985

a/n - it's been almost two years since i last posted... crazy... i've literally never smoked a day in my life but i can't get this idea out of my head so forgive me if its written... awkwardly ?? also, i will die on the hill that haechan is a sweetheart behind closed doors.

NSFW CONTENT ! MDNI !

SMUT warnings under the cut !

SMUT WARNINGS: making out, smoking, established relationship, suggestive, grinding, petnames: hyuck, baby, sweetheart. they're just sleepy & in love okay

23:46. the digital clock by haechan's clock flashes, washing the room in a tint of red. the NCT Dream dorms are quiet, the only sounds being the humming of the AC, and the distant sound of chenle and mark giggling in the living room.

haechan and you are squished by his window, your legs tangled together as the two of you converse in soft whispers. cigarette in hand, he brings it to his lips, turning his head further towards the open window and exhaling, ensuring none of the smoke drifts your way. the silence envelopes the two of you, creating an intimate bubble.

shuffling closer, you rest your head atop his shoulder, basking in his presence. he keeps the hand occupied with the cigarette dangling outside the glass, his free hand gently patting the top of your head. he tilts his head, glancing down at you. he simply sits and admires you for a few moments. eventually, he speaks, his voice groggy. "sleepy, baby ?"

you nod weakly, nuzzling further into his embrace. he chuckles softly, his hand sliding from the top of your hair, down to run soothing circles along your back. he leans forward, angling his body further towards the window as he inhales another puff of smoke. you watch, eyes half-lidded, drooping with sleep. the way his lips quirk, the way his fingers clutch the cigarette, the aura he exudes. the sight was enough to cause a pang of arousal to shoot through you.

you tug at his shirt, murmuring softly. "hyuck..." he hums, craning his head to look down at you against his side, a tired smile gracing his face. "mm ?" once again, you simply tug at his shirt, puckering your lips silently. he gets the hint, his eyes fond as he lightly captures your mouth, humming in satisfaction.

the two of you part slightly, the kiss having been a quick peck. you whine weakly, leaning up to mold your lips together once more. he chuckles into your mouth, his hand moving to cup your cheek, thumb running along your skin. the kiss remains soft, loving, even as his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. you let out a quiet gasp, the action granting him access as he deepens the kiss, tongue tangling with your own.

haechan tilts his head, moaning as the angle allows the kiss to heat up without your noses bumping awkwardly. after a few moments of languid making out, you pull back, nose scrunched in a grimace. "smoky..." he tilts his head back, laughing affectionately. he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, mumbling against the skin. "'m sorry, baby"

giggling, you shake your head, hand gently grasping his chin, turning his face towards your own. wordlessly, you catch his lips again, tongue sliding easily against his. he speaks, words muffled as he refuses to detach from the kiss for even a second. "baby- mmph-" he loses his train of thought, pressing his lips further against yours. the kiss turns slightly sloppy, your tongues dancing in a familiar rhythm.

eventually, he pulls back just far enough to catch his breath. his voice is low and husky when he regains his previous thought. "baby- wanna try something..." he tilts your head so you're gazing up at him. he caresses your cheek, his eyes betraying his affection for you, a flicker of desire hiding just beneath the surface. holding his gaze, you nod without even knowing what it was he was wanting to try.

"'m gonna take a hit and blow it into your mouth... is that okay, sweetheart ?" his voice is gentle, thumb continuing to run lazy patterns into your cheek. you sigh, leaning into his touch. "'ts okay, hyuck... wanna try too..."

he nods, lips leaving a loving peck to your forehead. he brings the cigarette towards his face, wrapping his lips around it. he inhales, his free hand bringing you closer. you eagerly part your lips, breath fanning across his mouth. your lips teasingly brush as he exhales, the smoke invading your senses. pulling back, you cough weakly, eyes tearing up. he chuckles fondly, hand returning to your back to soothe you. "that's it... you did 's good, baby..."

by the time your eyes lift to meet his, your brain has gone fuzzy, the hit more intense than you could've expected. your arms slither around his shoulders, your body pushing harder against his. he hums, wordlessly embracing you. "good ?" you nod, tugging at his shirt again, voice breathy. "want more..."

he laughs softly, taking another puff before bringing his lips back to yours. this time, he fully connects your mouths, releasing the smoke. you sigh into the kiss, arms tightening around his shoulders. your lips press together harder, the kiss turning desperate as the haze in your mind grows. haechan groans, his body heating up at the way you greedily inhale.

he pulls back, stuffing the cigarette into the ashtray, before smashing your lips back together. he pushes you so you're lying down on the bed, his body automatically towering over you. the kiss turns filthy, a chaotic mess of teeth clashing, tongues tangling. you hitch your legs around his waist, ankles hooking together as you press your hips up against haechans.

he lets out a startled grunt, one hand pushing your ( his ) shirt up, running along the bare skin that peeks out, the other gripping onto your thigh, dragging it harder against him. his hips automatically meet your grinds, the friction causing simultaneous gasps of pleasure to break the kiss for a split second, before your lips instinctively connect once again.

the sound of the bedsheets shuffling fill the room, the wet smacks as your mouths connect over, and over again, and the soft, sleepy moans that are muffled by the entangling tongues. the breeze from the window flows into his dorm room, the lingering scent of smoke creating a cloudy, dreamy ambience.

not proof-read ! lmk if there's any mistakes (づ￣ 3￣)づ

[moont0kki]

THIS SHIT ATEEEEE