you’re a college student with clean hands. Riki is the campus plug. one simple deal turns into late night conversations and accidental flirting.
pairing: dealer!riki x fem!reader
contains: weed, smoking, he keeps calling u sexy
⌗AN: had to tease u guys again with the ending whoops! sorry I just like slowburns so I can make sequels with extra tension hihi
⊹
Riki was exactly where everyone expected him to be between classes. Posted up against his black car in the parking lot, hoodie over his head, joint tucked behind his ear, eyes half-open like school physically bored him. AirPods in. Backpack on the ground. Like he lived there.
You spotted him as soon as you stepped outside.And okay, maybe your heart jumped a little, but only because you were about to do something stupid. Or bold. Same thing.
You walked straight at him with purpose, not even hesitating.
He didn’t notice you until your shadow fell over his shoes. He pulled out one AirPod, looking up lazily, then blinked when he realized who was standing in front of him.
“…You’re kidding,” he said.
You crossed your arms. “Nice greeting.”
He gave you a slow up and down look, squinting like he was trying to find a stupid joke to make.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked. “This is skipping class zone. You’re lost.”
“I’m not lost.”You took another step closer.“I need something.”
His brows shot up. “What, extra credit?”
You scoff. “Weed.”
Riki laughed, short and disbelieving. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for”
“I know enough” you say, not sure if you believe that yourself.
He pulls out his other AirPod. He stands up and you realize how tall he is. He’s almost hovering over you. "Yeah? Then you know firsttimers don’t walk up to me like they're ordering off a menu."
“This isn’t about being a first timer. I know you deal. Do you want money or not?” You say as you cross your arms.
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Fine. How much do you need”
You hesitate at his question, going silent before responding.
“I- an eighth?”
He smirks, anyone could tell you have no idea what you’re talking about. “You don’t even know how much that is, ma.”
You scoffed. “Does being annoying help with your business?”
A slow grin spread across his face — not mocking, but impressed.“Ohhh so you have a mouth on you.”He tilted his head. “Didn’t expect that.”
“Obviously,” you said. “You don’t expect much.”
“For real?” he asked, pushing off the wall, stepping closer. “You’re actually serious about this?”
You nod your head yes.
He clicked his tongue. “This is crazy.”
You frown again, “this is a yes or no question, Riki.”
He parted his lips like he wanted to argue more… but you held his stare, solid, unbothered, totally not the prissy girl he thought you were.
“Can you hurry and give me the weed?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not just walking around with bags of weed on me bro. You think im an idiot?"
He shakes his head, and sighs exaggerated. “Give me your phone.”
You squint “why.”
“You want the damn weed or not? just give me the phone.”
You unlock your phone and he snatches it out of your hands like a little kid that wants to play games on it.
He scrolls through your phone like it his own, looking for the contacts app. Then he starts tapping on things and after a minute he hands your phone back. “There. Got my number saved. When i've got something, I’ll text you a time and place."
“Don’t come asking for more than what you’ve asked for now. And never show up with anyone else. I don’t sell to groups.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to babysit your friends too if they’re like you.”
A smirk tugged at your lips.“Right.. well im going back to class. Bye druggie”.
He chuckles and shakes his head, amused. “Yeah alright.. bye geek”.
-
The next day his text came around 5:42 PM.
Riki:
got it
meet behind Westpoint Mall
10 mins
don’t bring anyone
You weren’t sure why your stomach flipped.It was just weed. Just Riki.
Still, you checked the mirror twice before leaving. Fixed your hair. Changed your shirt. Put on lip gloss you claimed you “just felt like wearing.”
Right…
The sun was low and orange when you walked behind the mall. The parking lot was half-empty, the dumpsters humming, the air warm from the leftover heat of the day.
Riki was already there — leaning against the wall, hood up, twirling his keys around his finger. When he spotted you, his mouth tilted into that cocky half-smirk he always wore when he was about to say something irritating.
“Sup, sexy” he said. The word rolled of his tongue so smoothly you didn’t even register it. “You didn’t skip any classes for this, right? Would hate to ruin your perfect attendance.”
You rolled your eyes.“Don’t start.”
He lifted a brow. “Relax, I'm just asking. Aren’t you supposed to be doing homework in a color-coded planner right now?”
You stepped closer. “No. I’m here giving you money.”
“Damn,” he said, mock surprised. “Corrupting the innocent. My favorite hobby.”
“Whatever.” You say and you open your hand. He puts a tiny plastic bag with weed in your palm, fingers brushing against your hand.
“$50.”
You grab the cash out of your purse that looked too classy for this kind of encounter, you shoved the folded bills toward him.
He reached for them—And you pulled your hand back.
Instant reaction, his eyes narrowed, annoyed.“Don’t play games. That’s not funny.”
“I need a favor first.” You say and you look him straight in the eyes.
“A favor?” he repeated, sounding one second away from turning around and leaving.“What favor? If you’re about to ask for a discount—”
“Jezus calm down, I'll give you the money. Just listen. It’s not a discount.”
He waited. Arms crossed. Already stressed like you were about to ruin his whole night.
You took a breath.
“I… don’t actually know how to smoke.”
Dead silence.
And then he blinked at you, slow, like his brain had to reboot.
“…You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“No, because why would you buy from me if you can’t even— fuck man..” He stopped himself, dragging a hand down his face.“So you pulled up to a dealer… to get something you don’t know how to use.”
You flash a fake cocky smile at him “teach me, or no money”.
He scoffs, giving you an exasperated look.
“Teach you? You think i'm a fucking weed sensei? This isn't a movie.”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“But if you wanna pay extra for a lesson… fine.”
You look at him like he’s crazy “I’m not paying you for teaching me how to smoke..”
“Why the hell would I waste my time then? You expect me to tutor you out of the kindness of my heart?”
He gives a sharp laugh.
“This ain't a charity, pretty. Either shell out the cash and i'll show you how to smoke. Or take the stuff and figure it out yourself. Your choice. But don't expect my time for free."
You groan exaggeratedly loud and roll your eyes “fine, how much.”
His smirk returns, satisfied with himself for getting you to give in.
“A hundred. And that's me being nice. Cash. Right now.” He holds out his hand expectantly.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “What the fuck? I’m not paying you a hundred dollars?”
“Then you can go light a joint with your student ID and good vibes. Next.”
He turns to walk away, already slipping his hands into his pockets. You quickly walk after him and grab his wrist.
“I don’t have it on me right now.” You say as you hand him the $50 from the weed.
He rolls his eyes, his jaw clenched. he's losing his patience, but a hundred bucks is a hundred bucks. He takes a deep breath, trying to reign in his annoyance.
“Fine, you owe me 50. I want it tomorrow. No games, no bullshit. I hate chasing people down.”
-
The walk to the top level of the mall’s parking deck feels way too slow for how fast your heartbeat is going. The sun is setting, throwing long orange shadows across the concrete, and Riki keeps glancing at you, obviously checking you out.
“You always make people climb five floors for drugs?” you ask, breath a little uneven.
“Nah,” he says, pushing open the door to the rooftop. “Just the hot ones.”
You almost trip. He pretends not to notice, but the smirk on his face makes it clear he definitely did.
His beat-up black car sits right on the edge, nothing but open skyline and warm evening air stretching out in front of it.
“See?” he says, nodding toward the view. “Looks better when you’re high.”
It is beautiful. You’d rather look at him though, but he doesn’t have to know that.
He hops onto the hood of his car like it’s the most natural thing ever, then pats the spot next to him. You slide up beside him, close enough that your legs almost touch, pretending not to notice.
Riki reaches through the half-open driver window and grabs a little pouch, filters, papers— a whole kit.
You raise a brow. “You keep all that in your car?”
He shrugs. “You never know when someone’s gonna need a good time.”
His forearms flex as he starts rolling the joint. When he’s done he looks at you, almost proud of himself.
“That was fast” you say.
He chuckled “I do this every day sweetheart.”
Your stomach flips. You hate it.
He seals the joint, flicks his lighter, and the flame briefly lights up his face. He takes a slow drag, jaw sharp, lips parted, then hands it to you.
“Ready?”
“…No.”
He laughs under his breath and hands it to you anyway.
“Just inhale slow. Don’t be dramatic.”
You shoot him a glare, take the joint, and try to do exactly what he said, except the smoke hits your throat instantly and you choke so hard you practically fold in half.
Riki bursts out laughing, hand coming up to support your back.
“Yo.. nah, that was insane. You didn’t even try.”
“I did try,” you cough, shoving his shoulder weakly. “You didn’t explain it right.”
He takes it back, hits it again, effortlessly, and holds it out for you.
“Again. Lighter this time. Breathe it in like… like you’re sipping it.”
You try again. This time you manage not to die, though it still burns like hell.
“There you go,” he says, sounding a little proud, hand still resting on your back. “Look at you.”
A few hits later, everything feels warm. You’re relaxed, floaty, and way too aware of how close Riki is sitting. His knee keeps bumping yours, and you don’t know if it’s an accident anymore.
“So…” you say, turning to him, “why do you even skip so many classes?”
He tilts his head slightly, eyes still on the sky. “Dunno. School’s loud. Teachers talk too much. I get more done when I’m not there.”
You raise a brow. “More done? Yeah selling weed behind malls…”
He gives you a playful look. “Hey, entrepreneurship. You study it, I live it.”
You laugh and he watches the sound leave your mouth like he wasn’t expecting you to find him funny.
“What about you?” he asks. “Why’re you sneaking around with me?”
You lean back beside him, letting the wind hit your face.
“Maybe I’m not as boring as you think I am.”
His eyes drop to your mouth for half a second. “Yeah. I’m starting to figure that out.”
For the first time, Riki feels less like the asshole weed-plug stereotype you had in your head… and more like someone real. Someone interesting. Someone with secrets and softness he doesn’t know how to show.
And Riki, quietly watching you out of the corner of his eye, looks like he’s realizing the same thing about you.
The joint burns down to a tiny ash ring between Riki’s fingers, and when he flicks it away, the world feels… different.
Warm. Fuzzy. A little too bright.
You blink slowly, trying to focus on the city lights — but they look like they’re breathing. Or maybe that’s just you swaying a tiny bit.
Riki snorts. “Damn. You’re gone.”
“I’m fine,” you protest, except your voice comes out soft and floaty, like you’re underwater.
“Yeah?” He leans closer, squinting at your face. “Your eyes are low as fuck. You look like you’re about to melt.”
“I’m not—” You forget the sentence halfway through. A lazy smile pulls at your lips instead. “Okay maybe a little.”
He chuckles, slow and warm. “You’re cute like this.”
You blink at him, too sluggish to react. “Shut up,” you mumble, which makes him grin even wider.
For a second, he watches you — the way your feet don’t stay still, how your fingers keep fiddling with the hem of your shirt, how your cheeks are pink and your eyes keep drifting back to him.
“You hungry?” he asks suddenly.
You whip your head toward him way too fast. “STARVING.”
He laughs again, pushes off the car hood, and stands. “Come on then, before you pass out on my bumper.”
He opens the passenger door for you, being dramatic about it, and you climb in, giggling at nothing. The car smells like mens cologne mixed with weed. The leather seat feels like heaven. The car lights feel like fire. You’re convinced his steering wheel is the funniest-looking circle you’ve ever seen.
“You’re literally a toddler right now,” he mutters as he starts the engine.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He smirks and shakes his head, pulling out of the lot.
The drive is a blur of neon lights and music that sounds like it’s echoing inside your chest.
When you walk inside the fast food place, the fluorescent lights feel unreal. Riki looks completely normal — hoodie, hair messy, hands in pockets — except for his red eyes giving him away.
“Act normal,” he says.
“I am normal.”
Then you trip over absolutely nothing.
He catches your elbow, laughing under his breath. “Yeah, okay. Total sober behavior”
You order chicken nuggets, fries, and a drink big enough for two people. Riki pays before you can argue.
They hand you the tray, and you both collapse into a booth, your thighs brushing under the table — again on accident, again on purpose.
You reach for a nugget at the same time as him, fingers touching.
You freeze.
He doesn’t move.
Your skin tingles way too intensely for something so small.
Then he clears his throat, grabs the nugget, dips it, and holds it out to you.
“Eat.”
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t feed me.”
He chuckles “just open your mouth.”
You roll your eyes but lean forward anyway, taking a bite straight from his fingers, your lips brush his fingers softly. His jaw flexes slightly. You pretend to ignore it.
Then you reach for the drink at the same time he does. There’s only one drink, but two straws.
“You can drink first,” you say.
“Nah, go,” he replies.
You end up sipping at the same moment, your faces stupidly close, eyes lowering on instinct. Sipping from two straws in the same drink like a romcom, and you both pull back laughing.
By the time the nuggets are almost gone, your brain feels like it’s gently sliding off a shelf.
You rest your cheek on the cold table, eyes half-closed.Riki raises a brow.
“You good, pretty?” He says with a smile, he slips in those pet names way too smoothly.
“I’m sleepy,” you mumble. “And you—” you point at him lazily “—you’re acting way too normal”
He laughs under his breath. “I told you. I’m used to it.”
You squint. “How used to it?”
“Used to it enough to babysit you right now,” he teases, tapping your forehead with his finger. “Come on. Before you fall asleep on this nasty ass table.”
You don’t even argue. Your limbs feel warm and loose as you follow him outside, the doors sliding open with a dramatic whoosh that makes you giggle for no reason.
The air hits different — cool against your skin, the sky already dark, city lights glowing like stars piled on the ground instead of the sky.
Riki shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets.You wrap your arms around yourself automatically.
He notices and bumps his shoulder into yours. “Cold?”
“A little.”
Without a word, he drapes an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you walk.
“So,” he says, voice low, casual, “why’d you really wanna try smoking?”
“I was curious.”
“That’s it?”
You pick at your sleeve. “And… I dunno. I guess I wanted to try something new.”
He hums. “Didn’t think you were that typa girl.”
You nudge him with your hip. “Maybe you don’t know me.”
He glances at you, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth. “I’m starting to.”
The two of you just walk.Talking about dumb stuff, deep stuff, whatever your high brains feel like throwing out.
He tells you how he hates math but likes building things, and how he always dreamed of being an architect as a kid.You guys talk for 2 hours straight, walking through the city like you own it, it feels like you know each others whole life story after tonight.
Back in his car.
You don’t even remember how you ended up here again. One minute you were walking around talking about childhood pets and the next you were climbing into the passenger seat because your legs “felt like jelly.” Riki just laughed and walked around to the driver’s side like it was the most normal thing ever.
By 8:30pm, he’s pulling into your neighborhood, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming against his thigh. He looks relaxed, too relaxed for someone who just spent hours being unexpectedly vulnerable with you. Like he didn’t just smoke the same joint you did.
He parks in front of your building but doesn’t turn the engine off. Just lets the car hum quietly between you.
You go to unbuckle but your fingers fumble, and he reaches over and clicks the seatbelt loose for you.
And then neither of you move.
Your faces are too close.Close enough to feel his breath.Close enough to smell the sweet smoke still clinging to his hoodie.
Your eyes shift to his lips.
His gaze drops to yours too.Then back to your eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that unless you want something.” He says low.
“And what if I do?” you throw back before you can stop yourself.
His jaw flexes and he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it.
You scoff and reach for the door.
You get out of the car, before you close the door, he leans over and calls out—
“Goodnight sexy”
You roll your eyes, trying to act like your heart isn’t doing backflips.
drunk and giggly sex with husband sunghoon after a party💭💭💭💭💭
giggly hoon is making ME giggly
warnings: established relationship, mentions of alcohol, kissing, making out, light grinding, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t.), creampie, use of petnames, playful teasing, praise, dirty talk
you and sunghoon stumble into your apartment at almost two in the morning, still laughing from the ridiculous karaoke battle that happened at the after-party. your cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and the cold night air. sunghoon’s tie is loose, hair messy, and he can’t stop smiling as he kicks the door shut behind you both.
“i can’t believe you actually sang that song,” you giggle, leaning against the wall for balance as you slip off your heels. “you were so off-key, hoon.”
“excuse me?” he gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like you wounded him. “i was incredible. the crowd loved me.” he wobbles a little as he tries to take off his jacket, nearly tripping over his own feet.
you burst into another fit of giggles and reach out to steady him. the second your hands touch his chest, the mood shifts just a little — still playful, but warmer. sunghoon looks down at you with that dazed, lovestruck smile he only ever gives when he’s drunk and completely in love.
“come here, wife,” he murmurs, voice low but cracking with laughter as he pulls you against him. his hands settle on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles over the fabric of your dress.
you tilt your head up and kiss him, both of you smiling too wide for it to be smooth. your teeth clack together awkwardly and that only makes you laugh harder into each other’s mouths.
“we’re terrible at this right now,” you snort, hiding your face in his neck.
“nooo, we’re perfect,” sunghoon insists, swaying with you in the hallway like you’re slow dancing. “best married couple in the world. very sexy. very coordinated.”
he tries to kiss you again but misses your lips and lands on your cheek instead. the two of you dissolve into another round of giggles, clinging to each other so you don’t fall over.
somehow you make it to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. sunghoon’s shirt is half unbuttoned, your dress is unzipped but still hanging onto your shoulders. he backs you up until your knees hit the bed and you both tumble onto the mattress in a messy heap.
“ow— your elbow,” you complain through laughter.
“sorry, baby,” he chuckles, rolling slightly so he’s hovering over you. his hair falls into his eyes as he looks down at you, cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol and arousal. “you’re so pretty. how did i get so lucky?”
you reach up and cup his face, pulling him down into another giggly kiss. this one is deeper, sloppier, tongues brushing lazily as your hands roam over his bare chest. sunghoon groans softly into your mouth when your fingers trace down his abs.
“i want you,” he mumbles against your lips, smiling like an idiot. “so bad. been thinking about you in this dress all night.”
“then take it off,” you whisper, biting your lip to stop another giggle.
he struggles adorably with the zipper, cursing under his breath when it gets stuck. “why is this so hard? i’m usually good at this.”
“because you’re drunk, hoonie,” you tease, helping him tug the dress down your body.
the second it’s off, sunghoon’s eyes light up like he’s seeing you for the first time.
“wow,” he breathes, hands sliding over your waist and up to your breasts. “my wife is so hot. how is she real?”
you laugh and pull him back down, kissing him while your legs wrap around his hips. he grinds against you slowly, still wearing his pants, and the friction makes you both moan softly between giggles.
“off,” you demand, tugging at his belt. “pants off. now.”
sunghoon tries to look serious but fails miserably as he sits up and fumbles with his belt. “yes ma’am. anything for my beautiful, drunk wife.”
once he’s finally naked, he crawls back over you, skin warm and flushed. you’re both giggling again as he tries to kiss your neck but keeps missing because he’s swaying.
“stop laughing at me,” he whines playfully, nipping at your collarbone. “i’m trying to be romantic.”
“you’re doing great,” you reassure him, threading your fingers through his hair. “so sexy. very smooth.”
he grins and finally settles between your legs properly. his hand slides down to touch you, fingers gliding through how wet you already are. his eyes widen comically.
“baby… you’re soaked,” he whispers, awed. then he giggles. “did i do that?”
“yes, you idiot,” you laugh, pulling him closer. “now fuck me before we both pass out.”
sunghoon’s cheeks flush even darker at your bold words. he lines himself up and pushes in slowly, both of you moaning at the feeling. he drops his forehead to your shoulder, breathing hard.
“fuck… you feel so good,” he groans, hips starting to move in shallow thrusts. “always so perfect for me.”
the sex is messy, uncoordinated, and full of laughter. every time he thrusts too deep and you both wobble, you crack up. when he tries to change positions and nearly falls off the bed, you have to pull him back by his shoulders, giggling the whole time.
“i love you so much,” he keeps murmuring between thrusts, kissing your face all over — your lips, your nose, your eyelids. “my wife. my best friend. i love fucking you.”
“i love you too,” you moan, legs tightening around him. your hands roam his back, nails lightly scratching as pleasure builds despite all the giggles. “harder, hoon— please.”
he tries, really tries, but ends up laughing again when he loses his rhythm. “i’m sorry— i’m so drunk but i still want you so bad.”
you cup his face and kiss him deeply, hips rolling up to meet his. the mood shifts gradually — still giggly and loving, but the pleasure starts taking over. sunghoon’s thrusts become deeper, more purposeful, even as soft chuckles escape between moans.
“right there,” you whimper, eyes fluttering. “feels so good…”
“yeah?” he pants, pressing his forehead to yours so he can look at you. “gonna make my pretty wife cum?”
you nod frantically, and he reaches between you to rub your clit, a little sloppy, but perfect.
your orgasm hits you first — sudden and sweet, making you moan his name as your body tightens around him.
sunghoon follows right after, burying himself deep with a broken groan, hips stuttering as he fills you up. he collapses on top of you, both of you breathing hard and still laughing breathlessly.
“we’re a mess,” you whisper, running your fingers through his sweaty hair.
“the best kind of mess,” he replies, kissing your jaw lazily. he rolls off you but immediately pulls you into his arms, spooning you from behind. his hand rests possessively on your stomach as he nuzzles into your neck.
“best night ever,” he mumbles, already sounding half-asleep. “i love being drunk with you. i love having giggly sex with you. i love being your husband.”
you smile and intertwine your fingers with his. “and i love you more.”
even as sleep starts pulling you under, soft giggles bubble up again when sunghoon sleepily tries to kiss your shoulder and misses. he eventually succeeds, pressing a warm, lazy kiss to your skin.
“round two in the morning?” he whispers.
“only if you’re not hungover,” you tease.
“deal.”
you fall asleep tangled together, bodies warm, hearts full, and the quiet sound of shared laughter still lingering in the air long after the party ended.
featured employees: sunghoon x fem!reader | custom order 📋
staff notes: haha me next.. im so serious.. is this thing on? helloooo
“so fucking pretty like this,” sunghoon grunted, his hips slamming into yours.
he had your legs pinned to your chest, hands gripping the back your thighs, using his weight to pin you down as he thrusted into you. you were already leaking from his fifth load of the night. you’d lost count how many times you’ve cum yourself. you two had been going at it for almost two hours, no breaks, because sunghoon wanted to fill you up as much as possible.
his pace sharpened, thrusts becoming hard and deliberate, the wet sounds between you two filling the room. he pulled out until just the tip was in before slamming back into you, the head of his dick hitting against the spot that made your toes curl every time.
“fuck— look baby,” he leaned back. he slid a hand above the visible bulge in your lower stomach. “see how deep i am inside you?”
all you could manage was a shaky nod and a broken moan, too cockdrunk to form words. he’d be lying if he said he felt bad—because he didn’t. he had a plan and was sticking to it.
“gonna make you a mommy,” he muttered, sliding his arms beneath you to grip your ass. he fucked into you harder, forcing himself deeper.
it didn’t take long for him or you to cum again. yours ripped through you like a shock, only longer, more intense.
“there you go,” he groaned, his voice rough as he stretched you out just right. his rhythm slowed, pumping a fresh load of thick white ropes inside you. he kept his grip on you tight, grinding through both of your releases, pushing his seed deeper with short, lazy thrusts.
“all for you, baby. that’s all for you.”
your body trembled beneath him, his cum already leaking out of you, soaking into the sheets. sunghoon didn’t stop there—he couldn’t. he refused to actually. he flipped you onto your stomach, dragged a finger between your sensitive folds, gathering a mix of your own orgasm and his cum.
“you see that, babe? you’re such a messy girl for me,” he said proudly, climbing over you, his knees on either side of your thighs, locking you under him.
he lined his dick up with your soaked entrance, not giving you enough to time brace yourself before pushing himself right in. the pleasure shoots right through you, making your body tremble.
“f-fuck— hoon— please…” you choked out, nails digging into the back of his thigh.
“i know, baby. i know…” he cooed against your ear, lips trialing kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. “you’re doing so good. taking me so well.”
his chest melted into your spine like it belonged there, bodies aligning. his hips rolled slowly, carefully, every push going deeper. the complete opposite from how he was fucking you a minute ago.
“cmon, lemme see that pretty face while i fill you up.” he slid a hand around your neck—not to choke, just enough to tilt your head back and get a good look at you.
your face was flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted, soft whimpers spilling out. your walls fluttered around him as another lazy orgasm passed through you.
“last one, baby— fuck.. i promise,” he strained, his grip tightening slightly as he delivers one final thrust. he slid a hand under your stomach, wanting to feel himself inside you as he pumped you full.
sunghoon pushes forward again, grinding the head of his dick against that sensitive spot once more. he didn’t stop until every drop was buried deep. he stayed there until his own hips gave out.
“so pretty when you’re full.” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your temple before looking down at the mess he made inside of you.
# | store disclaimer: all work is fictional and is not a real depiction of our staff outside the store !
(박성훈) college au. professor!sunghoon × student!reader
“You’re mine now. . . My perfect little pet.”
synopsis: you are a university student completely obsessed with your professor, Park Sunghoon. From the very first lecture, you begin craving his rare words of praise. Soon you’re wearing tighter and shorter outfits just to catch his eye, all while secretly writing your most filthy and forbidden fantasies about him in your private notebook. Until one day, you accidentally leave that notebook behind and he finds it. Now Professor Park knows exactly how desperate you are for him — and he’s done holding back.
a/n: heyy!! this is my first post here, so I'm a bit nervous, but I hope you all like it. any feedback is welcome, I'd really appreciate it <3 happy reading.
You walk into the lecture hall on your first day of the semester and choose a seat near the exit because you’re not expecting anything special from an Advanced Ethics class—until the door opens and Professor Park walks in.
He looks almost too young to be a professor, yet he carries an intriguing air of authority. The moment he begins to speak, introducing the course in a low, calm voice, you’re instantly hooked. Something deep in your stomach twists with sudden heat.
You spend the entire class staring at him, barely able to take any notes. He doesn’t smile once during the introductory lecture, and there’s something magnetic about it. He doesn’t seem to care about being liked by his students—he’s simply there, doing his job with strict discipline.
You’ve never been attracted to a professor before, but there’s something about him that captivates you instantly. Maybe it’s the way his biceps flex when he gestures while explaining something, or the fact that he seems almost too cold and professional.
By the end of the class, you feel an intense wave of jealousy over the measured praise he gave to other students. You want him to praise you. You want him to notice you. You want to be his favorite student.
Later that same day, back in your dorm, you make your first diary entry about Professor Park:
"Today I met Professor Park and my God, he’s so attractive. The way his thick eyebrows furrow when he’s explaining something… it honestly got me a little wet. I’m going to try to get his attention in the next classes."
You start sitting in the front row from that day forward, taking real notes and listening attentively to everything Professor Park says.
Throughout the week, you write more entries in your diary:
"God, the way his voice drops when he’s explaining something… I keep imagining him using that same low tone while he tells me exactly what to do on my knees. His hands look so big, with those long fingers. I wonder how they would feel gripping my hips or squeezing my thighs…"
"I want him to bend me over the desk after everyone leaves, lift my skirt, and fuck me hard. I’d stay so quiet for him… or maybe he’d fuck me even harder if I moaned his name out loud? Either way, I just want his cock to stretch me open."
By the end of the first week, he already knows your name because you answer a question correctly in class, where he simply replies with a neutral "Correct," but it’s enough to make your stomach flip.
Still, you want more. Knowing your name isn’t enough — you need all of his attention. So you decide to try something new in the second week.
────────
You wake up earlier to put extra effort into your makeup and outfit. For your first attempt, you go for something natural — soft mascara, a light blush, and a touch of lip gloss. You pair it with a blouse with a subtle neckline and a medium-length skirt that falls just at your knees.
Sitting in the front row, you raise your hand several times, making intelligent and well-thought-out comments because you actually studied for it. When you do, you receive a "Good point" from him, accompanied by a small approving smile. It’s enough to make your heart race.
In the next class, you try a bolder look — eyeliner, a proper lipstick instead of gloss, and a bit of contouring. He glances at you during the lecture, but he doesn’t compliment you. His expression remains neutral. When you make another smart comment, he simply nods. The conclusion is clear: he prefers the natural look, so that’s what you stick with.
Now it’s time to experiment with clothing. The following day, you wear a revealing outfit — a blouse cut low enough to show your collarbones and a shorter skirt that reveals your thighs. Professor Park’s eyes linger a little longer on your cleavage and bare thighs. It’s not obvious, but you notice. Cleavage and shorter skirts seem to work better, so you start leaning into that.
You keep pushing yourself — spending hours studying, pouring everything into every assignment, arriving early to class in hopes of catching a moment alone with him, craving his praise like it’s oxygen. With each passing class, your blouses get tighter and your skirts get shorter, exactly the way he seems to like.
Your efforts are paying off. His compliments come more frequently now — "Well argued" and "You captured the theme perfectly" — making you press your thighs together under the desk.
During one lecture, you participate actively, offering solid arguments and sharp answers, earning even more praise from Professor Park. When the class ends, he stops beside your seat. His gaze drops to your breasts for half a second before returning to your face.
"You’re showing great improvement," he says.
It’s enough to leave you soaked.
That night, your diary entry is filled with need:
"He looked at my tits today. He really looked. God, I want him to praise me while he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe. I’d call him Daddy so easily — actually, that’s what I’m calling him from now on. I want to be Daddy’s favorite. I’d let him fuck my ass if that’s what it takes to be his good girl."
────────
After your morning class, you’re walking down the corridor when you spot him near the faculty offices, carrying a tall stack of papers and wearing glasses. Now you have a new fantasy — getting fucked by him while he’s wearing those frames.
You quicken your pace, pretending to be focused on something on your phone, and then "accidentally" drop your notebook right in front of him. "Oh no…"
You quickly drop to your knees, letting your short skirt ride up even higher. The view you give him is perfect: you on your knees, looking up with a submissive gaze, lips slightly parted, your breasts nearly spilling out of your low-cut blouse.
His crotch is right in front of your face. The fabric of his pants stretches tightly over the heavy outline of his bulge, the thickness clearly visible. This is exactly what you would see if you were sucking his cock. The fantasy of pulling that thick cock out and taking him down your throat while looking up at him with innocent eyes makes you shiver.
Professor Park makes no effort to help you up. He towers over you, his thick eyebrows furrowed in a rare expression of surprise on his usually neutral face. "Are you alright?" he asks.
Your eyes travel from the bulge right in front of you up to his face. You pick up the notebook and look up again from that perfect blowjob angle, whispering softly, "Yes, Professor. I’m just so clumsy sometimes."
For half a second, his gaze drops — taking in your glossy lips so close to his groin, the way your skirt has ridden up, and how your breasts look even more prominent from this angle. He clears his throat and forces his attention back to your face. "Be more careful next time."
You smile sweetly and finally stand up, tugging your skirt down even though it barely covers anything. "Thank you, Professor Park."
Your panties are soaked and your mouth is watering, the image of his bulge so close to your lips still burned into your mind.
He gives you one last lingering look before walking past you. If he had stayed even a second longer, you might have noticed the growing, hardening bulge in his pants.
That afternoon, you write in your diary:
"Holy fuck, I was literally on my knees right in front of him, exactly like I would be if I were sucking his cock. I wanted him to pull it out, grab my hair, and make me take every inch of that heavy length down my throat. I’m so wet just remembering how tall he looked standing over me. Please, Daddy… notice how desperate your good girl is."
────────
As the students begin to leave when the class ends, you deliberately take your time packing your things, hoping for another interaction with Professor Park. It works. He starts walking toward your seat and stops beside it.
"Miss, stay after for a moment," he says.
"Yes, sir," you reply. Your mind immediately wanders — imagining him locking the door, bending you over the desk, his strong arms pinning you down while his cock finally stretches you open as he calls you his "good girl."
Once the last students are gone, you walk up to him on shaky legs, your panties soaked and your nipples hard, clearly visible through the thin fabric of your tank top.
"Yes, Professor?" Your voice is soft and innocent, but your heart is pounding as hard as your clit. Please, touch me. Fuck me right here. I’ve been such a good girl for you, Daddy. The words echo loudly in your head.
His eyes meet yours before slowly drifting down, scanning you from head to toe. "I’ve noticed how much you’ve improved this semester, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to help one of the students who’s struggling. Sharing notes or a few short tutoring sessions would help a lot."
The disappointment hits you like a punch. You’re standing here dressed for him, dripping wet and trembling with need, and he’s asking you for academic favors. No locked door. No biceps wrapped around your throat while he fucks you hard. Just tutoring another student. "Of course, Professor Park. I’d be happy to help."
He gives a small nod. "Thank you. I’ll email you the details. Keep up the excellent work."
You linger for a few more seconds, hoping he’ll say something else, but he simply turns his attention back to the papers on his desk — clearly dismissing you.
While waiting for the email he mentioned, you write in your diary:
"He asked me to stay after class and I swore this was finally going to happen — that he was going to fuck me mercilessly on his desk, choking me between his biceps and calling me his good little girl, his desperate pet. But nothing happened and fuck, it’s driving me insane. I’m dressing like a slut for him and he still stays so cold and professional. Luckily, I don’t give up easily."
────────
You arrive early and take your usual seat in the front row. As soon as the lecture begins, you pull a cherry lollipop from your bag, unwrap it slowly, and bring it to your mouth. At first it looks innocent — but you make sure it’s anything but.
You suck on it gently at first, your tongue swirling around the shiny red head, then take it deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your eyes stay locked on him the entire time — watching the way his muscular arms move as he explains the material, the serious tone of his voice, and the way his thick eyebrows furrow in concentration.
Every time he turns toward your direction, you push the lollipop in and out between your lips in slow, suggestive movements, imagining it’s his cock instead. He pauses mid-sentence for half a second as his gaze fixes on your mouth, then smiles — flashing those sharp canines. Holy fuck. Your pussy throbs at the sight.
Feeling bold, you don’t stop. You lick the lollipop from base to tip with long, wet strokes of your tongue. Every time his eyes meet yours, you suck it deep while keeping eye contact.
When the lecture ends and most students leave, he looks straight at you while you’re still sucking on the lollipop and packing your things. "Miss, a word, please."
You stand up quickly and walk over to him, pulling the lollipop out slowly with a wet pop as you reach his desk. Your lips are glossy and shiny as you smile sweetly. "Yes, Professor?" You slip the lollipop back into your mouth while you wait for him to speak.
This time he doesn’t even try to hide it. His gaze drops to your glistening lips, then to your breasts — your hard nipples clearly visible through the thin tank top, no bra as usual. "Your latest essay was…" His eyes finally return to yours, a small mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Incredible."
"Thank you, Professor," you reply softly, matching his mischievous smile. "I’ve been working really hard to be your best student."
He nods. "Good. Keep it up and you’ll certainly become my favorite."
You give the lollipop one final slow lick while looking him straight in the eyes, then turn to leave, swaying your hips in those tiny shorts. You can feel his gaze burning into you the entire way out.
That night, you write in your diary:
"Fuck, the way he stared at my mouth while I was sucking that lollipop… I bet he was imagining how my lips would look wrapped around his cock. I wanted him to grab my hair and shove himself down my throat right there in front of everyone. Daddy looked so tense today, but he still praised my academic effort again. I feel like I’m getting so close to finally making him snap."
────────
The class starts as usual, with you sitting in the front row, paying close attention to Professor Park’s lecture as he discusses the topics in that controlled, precise tone.
In the middle of the lecture, Ni-ki — the guy you’ve been tutoring — leans over from the seat next to you and whispers in your ear, "Hey, are we meeting again today?"
You smile at him and nod, leaning in closer on purpose because you know Professor Park is watching. "Yeah, already missing me, Nishimura?"
Ni-ki stays close, chatting quietly with you while the class continues. You smile widely and laugh at everything he says — he’s so funny and goofy. "We can review that part after class if you want," you say sweetly, loud enough for Professor Park to hear.
Sunghoon’s reaction is subtle but noticeable. His jaw clenches, one thick eyebrow lifting for half a second as he watches the two of you. He pauses mid-sentence when he catches Ni-ki staring at your breasts, then continues with a noticeably deeper, colder voice. When his eyes meet yours again, there’s something different in them. Jealousy.
"Concentrate, please," he says to the entire class, but his gaze is locked directly on you.
After class, when most students have left, you stay behind, pretending to organize your notes. Professor Park walks over to your seat and stops right beside you, towering over you with his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps strain against the sleeves of his shirt.
"Miss… I appreciate you helping Ni-ki, but I’d prefer if tutoring sessions stayed professional and outside of my lecture time."
You look up at him with feigned innocence, biting your lower lip. "I’m sorry, Professor. I was just trying to help like you asked… I really want to be useful to you."
Those words make his cock twitch inside his pants.
"That’s fine, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your performance," he replies. "You’re one of my best students. I’d hate to see that change." He lingers for a second longer, staring at you, before stepping back.
"One of." That’s not enough. You want to be his favorite. The only one.
That day, you write:
"He was jealous today, it was so obvious. Daddy didn’t like me giving attention to another guy and fuck, that’s so hot — it left me soaked. I wanted him to snap right there, drag me to his office, put me on all fours and fuck me stupid. I need him to claim me, ruin me, remind me who I belong to. Please, Professor Park."
────────
Another class ends. This time, you don’t wait for everyone to leave so you can have a brief moment alone with Professor Park. In a rush to meet your friends at a nearby café, you end up forgetting your notebook on the desk — the one filled with all your filthy thoughts about him.
Professor Park is packing up his things when he notices the forgotten notebook on the seat where you sat during class. He picks it up, planning to return it to you next lecture, but decides to open it first to check for a name — just to make sure it’s yours. His eyes scan the first page, then the next, and the next.
"Today I met Professor Park and my God, he’s so attractive…"
"I want him to bend me over the desk after everyone leaves, lift my skirt, and fuck me hard."
"I want to be Daddy’s favorite. I’d let him fuck my ass if that’s what it takes to be his good girl."
"I wanted him to grab my hair and shove himself down my throat right there in front of everyone."
He freezes, jaw clenched tight, every muscle in his body tense as he keeps reading. Page after page of your explicit fantasies — the way you teased him with the lollipop, dropped to your knees in front of him, wore shorter and shorter skirts with tighter blouses, all of it deliberately done to provoke him.
With every new entry, his cock grows harder, throbbing painfully against the confines of his pants.
You only realize you forgot the notebook when you’re already halfway across campus. Panic floods through you instantly — every filthy thought, every "Daddy," every explicit fantasy is written in there. Your stomach twists at the thought of someone finding it and reading everything. You run back to the lecture hall as fast as you can.
When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar. Peeking inside, you see that Professor Park is still there.
Breathless, you push the door open. His eyes lock onto yours the second you step inside. The air feels thick, heavier than ever. His gaze is different now — darker, more intense, hungry. In that same instant, you know you’re fucked.
"You forgot this," he says in a low, serious voice. A cruel smile plays on his lips as he holds the notebook out toward you, but he doesn’t let go when you try to take it.
"Interesting reading…" He flips through the pages again and reads one of the entries out loud. "Please, Daddy… notice how desperate your good girl is." Then he lets out a low, mocking laugh — clearly amused by how desperate you sounded in those notes.
Your face burns with shame. The words get stuck in your throat. What excuse could you possibly give when everything is written so explicitly? "Professor… I—"
He closes the notebook with a sharp snap and pins you with a piercing stare that makes your entire body shiver. "We’ll discuss this later. In private."
He finally releases the notebook. The moment it’s in your hands, you turn and flee as fast as your trembling legs can carry you.
The rest of the day is pure torture. You can barely sleep that night, your mind racing with every possible consequence — and every possible thing he might do to you.
Later that evening, your phone vibrates with an email from him.
My office. Thursday, 4:30 PM. We need to discuss the contents of your notebook.
— Sunghoon Park.
On Thursday, you spend the entire day getting ready. You wear the tightest tank top you own — thin enough that your hard, needy nipples are clearly visible — paired with the shortest skirt you’ve ever worn, one that barely covers the curve of your ass.
At exactly 4:30 PM, you knock on his office door, your heart pounding so hard you feel dizzy.
"Come in," he says from inside.
You open the door slowly. There he is, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest, jaw clenched, a malicious smile on his lips and a hungry look in his eyes as they rake over your body from head to toe. The cold, professional mask he always wore in class is gone, replaced by something much darker.
"Lock the door and sit down," he orders, leaving no room for argument.
You obey with trembling hands, locking the door before sitting down, pressing your thighs together. You can already feel your panties getting wet. For a few long seconds, he just stares at you, his gaze lingering on your hard nipples straining against the thin fabric.
When his eyes finally meet yours, he speaks. "You wrote about wanting me to bend you over this desk. About my arms suffocating you. About calling me Daddy. About dressing like a desperate little slut just to get my attention."
You feel exposed, vulnerable, and shamefully aroused, your pussy throbbing.
"I didn’t… I mean, I—" The words die in your throat as he steps closer, towering over you.
"Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to stay professional?" he growls. "Watching you in class every day in those tiny skirts and tight tops. Reading how badly you want me to claim you."
Before you can respond, he grabs your waist and lifts you effortlessly onto his desk. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them so he can step between them.
"Professor Park…" you whimper, your voice trembling with need and nervousness.
He kneels in front of you, eyes locked on yours as he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties to the side, exposing your needy, dripping wet pussy. The first touch of his hot tongue against your folds makes you gasp sharply.
"Oh God—" you moan, gripping the edge of the desk.
Sunghoon eats you out like a starving man — with long, slow licks from your entrance to your clit, then sucking hard on the swollen bundle of nerves. Two long fingers slide deep inside you, curling perfectly to stroke that sensitive spot while his tongue works relentlessly.
"Sunghoon, fuck— that feels so good," you whimper, tangling your fingers in his hair. "I’ve waited so long for this…"
He growls against your pussy when he hears you moan his name so casually. The vibration sends shivers through your entire body. His fingers pump faster and deeper as he sucks your clit into his mouth. The pressure builds quickly until you cum hard, thighs trembling around his head, loud moans ripping from your throat as you soak his chin and the desk beneath you.
When he finally stands up, his lips are glistening with your juices. He’s breathing heavily, the massive bulge in his pants straining painfully against the fabric.
"Please, Daddy…" You spread your legs even wider, eyes glassy with tears of frustration and pleasure. "I need your cock. Please, fuck me."
Sunghoon steps forward, pressing his clothed erection firmly against your soaked entrance and rubbing slowly. You moan softly, rolling your hips against him desperately, chasing more friction, but he pulls away again.
"I’m not reckless enough to fuck you in my office," he groans, clearly fighting for control. "No matter how badly I want to bury myself inside this needy little pussy."
You let out a pathetic whine, eyes pleading. He leans in close, gripping your jaw firmly with one hand.
"Tonight. My apartment. 8 PM. If you want me to fuck you properly." He pauses, his voice low and dark. "I’ll send you an email with the address."
────────
You arrive at his building exactly at 8 PM, wearing the sluttiest outfit you own. Your pussy is already dripping down your thighs by the time you knock on the door.
Sunghoon opens the door dressed differently from usual — a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of his hard cock.
"Come in," He orders and you obey, the door closing behind you with a heavy click.
The second you step inside, his reserved professor mask finally shatters and he snaps.
He grabs you by the waist and slams you against the wall, his grip so strong it will definitely leave bruises. "You have no fucking idea what you’ve done to me," he growls, pressing his erection hard against your stomach. "Reading page after page of you begging to be my little whore. Calling me Daddy while thinking about my cock."
You moan, arching into him desperately. "Please… I need it. I’ve needed your cock for so long."
He spins you around and bends you roughly over the back of the couch. Your tiny skirt rides up, exposing your bare, dripping pussy — you didn’t even bother wearing panties. His large hand comes down hard on your ass, making you cry out.
"Look at this desperate little cunt," he says, stroking the spot he just spanked. "Dripping all over my floor." Two thick fingers slide through your folds and push deep inside you without warning. You scream, pushing back against his hand as he fingers you hard, curling his fingers against that sweet spot while his thumb circles your swollen clit.
"You’re tighter than I imagined," he groans, pumping faster. "All those weeks teasing me in those tiny skirts and tight tops… you’re going to take every inch of Daddy’s cock tonight."
He pulls his fingers out, yanks your top up to free your breasts, and spins you around to face him. Before you can say anything, his mouth crashes against yours in a hungry, demanding, almost desperate kiss — his tongue pushing past your lips to claim you completely.
You melt into him, moaning into his mouth while grinding against his hard cock. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen and you’re panting.
He walks you backward toward the bedroom, still kissing you between steps, until the back of your knees hit the bed. Sunghoon throws you onto your back, pulls off his shirt, and shoves down his sweatpants — finally freeing his cock that springs out, thick and rock hard with pulsing veins along the shaft. Your mouth waters at the sight.
He climbs on top of you, grabs your thighs and spreads them wide. Without any ceremony, he lines up and thrusts deep inside you in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt in your soaked pussy. "Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight."
Then he starts fucking you hard — deep, merciless thrusts that make the bed creak and his heavy balls slap against your ass with every stroke.
You’re completely lost in it, moaning like a whore because he’s so big and the stretch is overwhelming. "Your cock is so big… you’re stretching me so good."
He leans down and kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you. His muscular body pins you to the mattress, his heat and weight dominating you the best way possible.
"You’re mine now," he growls against your lips. "My perfect little pet. This pussy belongs to me now."
Sunghoon presses one hand firmly on your lower belly and starts fucking you with slow but incredibly deep strokes. His cock is so long and buried so deep that you can clearly see the bulge moving under your skin with every thrust.
"I can literally see my cock bulging your tiny stomach. Feel that?" He thrusts harder, pressing down so you can feel the head of his cock pushing against his hand through your body.
You nod, sobbing with pleasure, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, I feel it. You’re ruining my pussy, Daddy. I’m so full."
"My cock is bigger than your little womb can handle… but you’re still taking every inch like a good girl," he groans, almost hypnotized.
"Please, don’t stop," you beg desperately, voice breaking. He fucks you even deeper, one hand still pressing on the bulge in your stomach while the other pins your wrists above your head.
The pressure becomes unbearable until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, screaming as your pussy clenches violently around his cock, squirting while he keeps fucking you through it. The sight and feeling push him over the edge too. He buries himself as deep as your body allows and fills you with thick, hot ropes of cum, groaning loudly as he empties himself inside you.
He slowly pulls out of you, his cock glistening with the mixture of both your cum. You’re panting, legs still trembling from the intense orgasm, when suddenly he flips you onto your stomach without warning. He grabs your hips and pulls your ass up, putting you on all fours.
"Arch your back," he orders. "I want to fuck you like the desperate little pet you are."
You obey immediately, arching your back deeply and presenting your wet, swollen pussy to him. This position leaves you completely at his mercy as his tall, muscular frame towers behind you.
He leans over you, one hand sliding down your spine until he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. With the other hand, he turns your head to the side and kisses you deeply. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch while his thick cock teases between your ass cheeks.
You moan into the kiss, melting under him. "Daddy… fuck me harder," you beg breathlessly against his lips.
He kisses you even more aggressively, biting your lower lip before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "Open your mouth."
You obey without hesitation, sliding your tongue out slightly. Sunghoon leans over you and spits directly into your open mouth — a thick string of saliva landing on your tongue.
You moan pathetically and swallow it all. "Thank you, Daddy…"
"Good girl," he praises with a wide smile, then spits into your mouth again. "Now take my cock."
He pushes you back down onto the mattress, grips your hips with both large hands, and thrusts into you with one brutal stroke. The new angle lets him bury every thick inch even deeper, stretching your tight pussy to its limit.
"Fuck!" you cry out, fingers gripping the sheets. "You’re so deep like this… Oh my God."
Sunghoon starts fucking you hard, his hips slamming against your ass with loud, wet slaps that push your body forward with every thrust. His thick cock rubs against your cervix and every sensitive spot inside you — the obscene sound of your soaked pussy getting fucked filling the room.
He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the mattress while the other spanks your ass hard in time with his thrusts, leaving red marks on your skin. "Take it," he groans. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked like a bitch in heat by your professor."
"Yes, yes, Daddy." you moan loudly, pushing your hips back desperately to meet his rhythm. "Fuck me harder… I love being your little slut."
He leans over you again, chest pressed against your back, and continues pounding into you mercilessly. Every thrust makes your ass ripple and your tits bounce beneath you.
Sunghoon reaches around and grabs one of your breasts roughly, pinching your nipple without slowing his punishing pace — his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every stroke.
"You’re so fucking tight like this," he growls against your ear, biting your shoulder. "This tiny pussy was made for my cock."
You’re sobbing with pleasure, completely lost in how deep and hard his huge cock is fucking you. "I’m gonna cum. Sunghoon, please... can I cum?" you beg, voice breaking.
He slaps your ass hard again, making you squirm under him. "Cum on my cock like a good girl."
You scream into the mattress as your inner walls clench violently around him, the orgasm hitting you violently. He doesn’t slow down — he fucks you straight through it, chasing his own release.
Until he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with another huge load, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum deep inside your pussy in heavy spasms.
You’re still trembling and leaking his cum when he pulls out and suddenly flips you onto your back so he can look at your ruined body and flushed, wrecked expression. "On your knees," he commands, his voice low and rough.
You obey instantly, like you always do. Sunghoon reaches over to the nightstand where he keeps his satin ties and grabs a couple. "Hands behind your back, pet." He ties your wrists securely behind you and then binds your ankles, leaving you completely helpless on the bed.
The silk bites into your skin just tight enough to make you fully at his mercy. When you test the restraints and realize you can’t escape, a needy moan escapes you.
"Look at you…" he says, slowly stroking his cock, which is already rock hard again. "All tied up and dripping for me. Exactly how a desperate little slut should be.:
You whimper, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Daddy, please..."
He lets out a cruel laugh, then grabs you by the hair and drags you off the bed to the large full-length mirror on the bedroom wall. He positions you on your knees right in front of it, facing your own reflection. "Eyes open," he whispers into your ear. "Watch what I do to you."
You stare at the obscene image in the mirror: your wrists and ankles bound, your skirt bunched uselessly around your waist, tits exposed, and your face flushed with lust.
Sunghoon kneels behind you, his muscular body making yours look tiny. He yanks your head back by the hair and thrusts into you with one brutal stroke, burying his cock to the hilt.
He starts fucking you hard, deep and punishing thrusts that jolt your bound body forward. His biceps flex as he grips your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with every stroke. The mirror shows everything — your tits bouncing, your face twisted in pleasure, and his body dominating you from behind.
"Fuck, look how well your tight little pussy takes me," he groans. One hand wraps around your throat while the other arm snakes around your upper body. He pulls you back against his chest, smothering you between those massive biceps while he keeps thrusting. Your vision starts to blur from the overwhelming pleasure as you gasp for air, forced to watch yourself being destroyed in the mirror.
Sunghoon unties your ankles and in one smooth motion stands up, lifting your body like you weigh nothing. He presses you against the mirror, your tits and cheek smashing against the cold glass as he enters you from behind again.
The mirror fogs up with your hot breath while he fucks you relentlessly. "You teased me for weeks," he growls in your ear, one hand still gripping your throat. "Now you get to watch yourself get fucked like the whore you are." His hips slam against your ass with loud, wet smacks, his cock driving incredibly deep in this standing position.
You cum hard, screaming as your pussy squirts around his cock and your legs shake violently, but he doesn’t stop. He pulls out, spins you around, and lifts you onto his cock, impaling you completely again. His strong arms do all the work, bouncing your bound body up and down on his thick shaft.
"Beg for it," he demands.
"Please, Daddy, cum inside me again," you sob desperately. "Fill your good girl up… I need it so bad."
He buries himself to the hilt one final time and floods your pussy with another massive load, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum until it overflows around his cock and drips down your ass.
Still buried deep inside you, he carries you back to the bed and sits you up on the edge of it, standing in front of you. "Open that pretty mouth. Time to clean Daddy’s cock and get your throat fucked."
He doesn’t wait for you to do it. He simply grabs your hair and slaps his cum-covered cock against your tongue a few times before shoving it straight down your throat. You gag hard, your eyes watering instantly as he forces his thick length past your gag reflex.
"That’s it, swallow it all, you filthy little cocksucker," he groans, starting to thrust deep and steady.
You gag and drool uncontrollably, thick strings of saliva running down your chin and dripping onto your tits and thighs. Glk- glk- glk. The obscene sounds fill the room as he fucks your face mercilessly.
You pull against the restraints around your wrists, trying to escape while moaning around his cock. When he pulls out briefly to let you breathe, you gasp desperately. "I’m your dirty little whore, Daddy."
He groans and thrusts back in, fucking your throat harder and faster while holding you in place. Tears stream down your face, but you keep looking up at him submissively. Finally, with a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt and cums straight down your throat. You swallow every drop like the good girl you are, coughing and gasping for air when he finally pulls out.
Sunghoon releases the restraints from your wrists and sits on the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and glistening, slapping against his stomach. He pulls you onto his lap, gripping your hips possessively. "Get on top, baby," he says, his voice low and rough. "I want to watch you ride Daddy’s cock."
Even though you’re trembling and completely wrecked, you obey. You straddle him, align his cock with your soaked entrance, and sink down slowly, moaning loudly as he stretches you open again. "Fuck… Daddy, you’re so deep like this," you moan, bottoming out with a shaky breath.
Sunghoon leans back slightly, supporting himself on his hands, his thick dark eyebrows furrowed as he watches you. One large hand immediately slides up to your breast, squeezing it hard while his thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple. "Ride me. Show me how badly you wanted this."
You start moving, rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock. He slaps your ass hard. SMACK. the sharp sound echoing as your flesh jiggles. "Faster," he demands, slapping the other cheek even harder. "Don’t be shy. Fuck yourself on me like you wrote in that dirty little notebook."
You ride him harder, your tits bouncing wildly in front of his face. He leans forward and catches one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his other hand keeps spanking and groping your ass, occasionally spreading your cheeks so he can feel how tightly you’re stretched around him.
"Oh my God, Sunghoon!" you moan loudly, head falling back. "Your cock feels so good… I love your cock. Please, spank my ass harder!"
His big hand comes down again and again, turning your ass red while his other hand kneads and pinches your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The mix of pain and pleasure makes your pussy clench around him.
"Look at you… bouncing on your professor’s cock like a whore. These pretty tits are mine." He squeezes them together, burying his face between them, biting and sucking marks into your soft skin.
You’re losing control, riding him relentlessly while grinding your clit against his pelvis with every bounce. "I’m gonna cum, please. Can I cum?" you beg.
He slaps your ass one more time, hard enough to make you scream, then grips your hips tightly and starts thrusting up to meet you. "Cum," he growls against your chest. "Cream all over Daddy’s cock."
You scream loudly, your body shaking violently as your pussy clenches and squirts around his thick shaft. Sunghoon doesn’t stop — he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, spanking your ass and playing with your bouncing tits until he groans deeply and buries himself inside you, pumping another thick load into your already overflowing pussy.
Sunghoon gently rubs your wrists and ankles before lifting your trembling body along with his and carrying you in his arms to the bathroom.
Under the hot streams of water, he presses your body against the tiles, pinning you there. "Can you take one more? Just one more for me, hm? I know you can, baby…"
You nod quickly. "I can."
He lifts one of your legs, lines himself up, and slides back into your sore, dripping pussy. The water cascades over both of you as he fucks you deep and steady, one thick arm wrapped loosely around your throat from behind while his other hand gropes your breasts and rubs your clit.
"You’re such a messy little whore, but so good for me," he whispers in your ear, thrusting harder. "Still leaking my cum down your thighs."
"Yes, I’m yours," you whimper, pushing back against him. "Fill me again, please. Breed me. I want to be yours forever, Daddy."
He pins you harder against the wall until you cum again, moaning his name. With one final deep thrust, he groans and releases inside you once more, making the mixture of cum and water run down your legs.
Sunghoon turns off the water, dries you carefully, and kisses every mark he left on your body. He carries you back to the bed and pulls you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest.
"You were incredible tonight," he murmurs softly, stroking your hair. "Such a good girl for Daddy. You took everything so well."
You nuzzle into him, your voice low and exhausted. "Thank you, Daddy… I loved every second. I’m yours now."
He massages your sore wrists, thighs, and neck with gentle, careful hands, then brings you water and holds the glass while you drink. He cleans between your legs again with a warm cloth, kissing your forehead the whole time.
"Stay here with me," he whispers, wrapping you in those strong arms. "Rest, baby."
You fall asleep feeling safe and warm in his arms, completely owned, satisfied, and already dreaming about the next time.
────────
You wake up slowly, your body sore and marked — your thighs sticky with dried cum, your throat still a little raw. You smile to yourself like a lovestruck idiot, then slip out of bed wearing one of his dress shirts that you stole from the chair in the room.
You walk toward the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee. He’s standing at the counter, so you quietly approach from behind and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back.
"Good morning…" you murmur, kissing his back softly. "Thank you for last night. I can still feel you everywhere."
Sunghoon doesn’t turn around immediately. He stays still for a moment, then lets out a low, cold laugh that makes your stomach twist.
He finally turns, wearing that same reserved, stern expression he used during lectures as he looks at you like you’re something both pathetic and mildly amusing.
"You’re already acting clingy?" he says, his voice low and cruel. "One night of getting your holes ruined and you think you can play housewife?"
Your cheeks burn, but you still try to be sweet, pressing your body against his and rubbing your hard nipples against his chest.
"Sorry… I just feel so close to you right now," you whisper softly, looking up at him with big, adoring eyes. "I love being your good girl."
He reaches out and grabs your chin roughly, forcing your head back with a firm, almost painful grip. "Look at you," he says mockingly. "So desperate and sweet in the morning. You were screaming like a whore last night, begging Daddy to fill your insides with cum… and now you’re cuddling up to me like a lost puppy?"
Before you can respond, he releases your chin and turns back to the counter as if you don’t even deserve his attention. But you keep trying, stepping forward again and wrapping your arms around him from behind. "Please, Sunghoon… I really like you. It’s not just the sex—"
"Enough," he interrupts sharply. He turns again, grabs you by the waist, and easily lifts you onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs. The shirt rides up, exposing your bare, still-swollen pussy. "You’re not going to play sweet and domestic after writing page after page about wanting to be my personal cum dump."
"But… I want to make you happy," you say softly, your voice trembling.
He leans in close, trapping you on the counter. "Then stay quiet and keep that little cunt ready for whenever I want it," he says coldly. "Sweetness doesn’t suit a desperate pet like you. Now spread your legs wider and stop pretending you’re anything more than my dirty little secret."
He delivers a hard, cruel slap directly to your clit, making you gasp. Then he steps back, leaving you sitting there exposed, dripping, and aching on the counter while he casually drinks his coffee.
featured employees: sunghoon x fem!reader | custom order 📋
staff notes: haha me next.. im so serious.. is this thing on? helloooo
“so fucking pretty like this,” sunghoon grunted, his hips slamming into yours.
he had your legs pinned to your chest, hands gripping the back your thighs, using his weight to pin you down as he thrusted into you. you were already leaking from his fifth load of the night. you’d lost count how many times you’ve cum yourself. you two had been going at it for almost two hours, no breaks, because sunghoon wanted to fill you up as much as possible.
his pace sharpened, thrusts becoming hard and deliberate, the wet sounds between you two filling the room. he pulled out until just the tip was in before slamming back into you, the head of his dick hitting against the spot that made your toes curl every time.
“fuck— look baby,” he leaned back. he slid a hand above the visible bulge in your lower stomach. “see how deep i am inside you?”
all you could manage was a shaky nod and a broken moan, too cockdrunk to form words. he’d be lying if he said he felt bad—because he didn’t. he had a plan and was sticking to it.
“gonna make you a mommy,” he muttered, sliding his arms beneath you to grip your ass. he fucked into you harder, forcing himself deeper.
it didn’t take long for him or you to cum again. yours ripped through you like a shock, only longer, more intense.
“there you go,” he groaned, his voice rough as he stretched you out just right. his rhythm slowed, pumping a fresh load of thick white ropes inside you. he kept his grip on you tight, grinding through both of your releases, pushing his seed deeper with short, lazy thrusts.
“all for you, baby. that’s all for you.”
your body trembled beneath him, his cum already leaking out of you, soaking into the sheets. sunghoon didn’t stop there—he couldn’t. he refused to actually. he flipped you onto your stomach, dragged a finger between your sensitive folds, gathering a mix of your own orgasm and his cum.
“you see that, babe? you’re such a messy girl for me,” he said proudly, climbing over you, his knees on either side of your thighs, locking you under him.
he lined his dick up with your soaked entrance, not giving you enough to time brace yourself before pushing himself right in. the pleasure shoots right through you, making your body tremble.
“f-fuck— hoon— please…” you choked out, nails digging into the back of his thigh.
“i know, baby. i know…” he cooed against your ear, lips trialing kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. “you’re doing so good. taking me so well.”
his chest melted into your spine like it belonged there, bodies aligning. his hips rolled slowly, carefully, every push going deeper. the complete opposite from how he was fucking you a minute ago.
“cmon, lemme see that pretty face while i fill you up.” he slid a hand around your neck—not to choke, just enough to tilt your head back and get a good look at you.
your face was flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted, soft whimpers spilling out. your walls fluttered around him as another lazy orgasm passed through you.
“last one, baby— fuck.. i promise,” he strained, his grip tightening slightly as he delivers one final thrust. he slid a hand under your stomach, wanting to feel himself inside you as he pumped you full.
sunghoon pushes forward again, grinding the head of his dick against that sensitive spot once more. he didn’t stop until every drop was buried deep. he stayed there until his own hips gave out.
“so pretty when you’re full.” he breathes, pressing a kiss against your temple before looking down at the mess he made inside of you.
# | store disclaimer: all work is fictional and is not a real depiction of our staff outside the store !
𓊆박성훈 x fem reader𓊇 💌 cheating, doctor sunghoon, nurse yn, risky sex, exhibism, kissing, blowjob, doggy style, reverse cowgirl, creampie, shameless shameless people... not proofread!
𓆩♡𓆪 it's been a hot minute since i wrote cheating and a smut :") so i'm so sorry if this is half-assed/bad <//3 i'm kinda busy lately, so i'm only able to give you short-short reads like this :< if you love it, pls shower it with love!
“oh! sunghoon ah!”
mrs. kim sat up on bed, her face lighting up despite the iv drip attached to her hand. “my son in law finally came to see me. they said you’re so busy you couldn’t even come and see your mother.”
sunghoon smiled politely, closing the door behind him as he approached the bed. “of course not, mom. i’ve just been swamped back to back. what happened this time? the report said you were admitted for high blood pressure again?”
she sighed dramatically, reaching out to hold his hand. “you know how it is… my body gets so stressed these days. the doctor said my heart rate keeps spiking—but it’s only because i worry too much about this family.”
she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, her thumb brushing over his knuckle. “but seeing you now… i already feel much better.”
sunghoon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “are you stressed again? you promised me last time you’d take it easy.” his voice dropped into that gentle, concerned son in law, half doctor tone. “you can’t keep ending here. i’ll have to start making house calls.”
the older woman just laughed softly, her eyes lingering on her daughter’s husband's handsome face. “sure, sure. sooha is so lucky to have such a caring husband like you, sunghoon.”
the doctor just chuckled, before turning slightly to face you standing there by the curtain—tablet in hand, wearing your pretty little pink fitted nurse uniform, hair neatly tied in a bun.
“oh,” he said smoothly, placing his larger hand lightly on your lower back to bring you forward. “this is my nurse, yn. i assigned her to your case so she can keep a close eye on you when i’m not around.”
his palm stayed pressed against your lower back the entire time, fingers subtle stroking the fabric of your uniform in small, slow circles no one else could see. the heat from his hand seeped through the thin material.
mrs. kim smiled at you, tilting her head. “aw, you’re such a young and pretty one. how old are you, dear? you look too fresh to be working here.”
you bowed your head, trying to ignore the way your doctor’s thumb was now slowly tracing your spine. “thank you, ma’am… i’m only in my mid 20’s now.”
“only? so young and already so capable,” she said kindly, though her attention quickly drifted back to sunghoon. “i should’ve told sooha to take nursing too…”
you and sunghoon gave each other a look.
sunghoon just hummed in response, his hand still not moving from your back. in fact, he stepped a little closer to you, his body heat now brushing against your side as he pretended to check the monitor beside the bed.
“right—yn’s very capable, mom,” he murmured, fingers brushing over the tubing. his other fingers pressed a little firmer into your lower back, almost possessively. “very attentive. she’ll take care of you well.”
the way he said the last word made your thighs clench involuntarily.
his mother in law only chuckled, completely unaware of the tension crackling between the two of you. “well, if that’s how it is—then i feel much safer now.”
sunghoon smiled, finally sliding his hand down a few inches before he pulled it away.
“then yn, i’ll leave her to your care,” he turned to you with a soft smile. with his eyes still on you, he hummed. “i’ll come back later at night to check up on you.”
——
later that night, the hospital corridor lights had dimmed to the soft glow. the ward was quiet except for occasional beep of monitors.
you were helping mrs. kim settle into bed for the night—fluffing her pillow, adjusting the bed level, making sure her iv line wasn’t tangled. not the usual nurse duty, but this is the mother in law of of the chairman’s grandson, for gods sakes.
she’d been restless for the past hour.
as you tucked the blanket to her, mrs. kim suddenly groaned in pain, her face twisting. “... my chest feels tight again. it hurts…”
you immediately moved closer, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “it’s okay. take slow breaths for me—i’m right here.”
she let out another soft groan, clutching the blanket. you checked her vitals, then spoke in a calm, soothing voice: “i’ll be in this room the whole night, so don’t worry at all. if the pain gets worse or you need anything, just call my name. i’ll be sitting right there on the couch beside your bed, okay?”
mrs. kim exhaled shakily and gave you a smile. “thank you, hun.”
after giving her some pain relief medication as per the chart and dimming the bedside lamp, you moved to the small couch near the window—you sat down with your laptop, updating notes, doing tasks.
the room fell into a heavy silence, only accompanied by mrs. kim’s occasional soft groans as she fall asleep.
twenty minutes passed.
then the door to the private ward clicked openly.
sunghoon stepped inside, still in his white coat, tie slightly loosened. his eyes scanned the darkened room before they landed on you sitting on the couch. a smirk tugged at his lips when he saw you there—his pretty little nurse sitting there with your legs crossed.
he closed the door behind him with a soft click.
“everything alright?” he asked, voice low so as not to wake his mother in law.
you nodded. “i just gave her some acetaminophen earlier.”
sunghoon walked closer, stopping just inches away from where you’re sitting. his tall frame towered over yours as he glanced at his mother in law sleeping form, then back to you. the dim night light cast shadows across his face.
without a word, he leaned down, placing both hands on the armrests of the couch, caging you in. his face was close to yours, and you could smell his clean cologne mixed with the scent of hospital.
“well… what about you?” he murmured, voice deep.
you tilted your head slightly. “what about me?”
sunghoon’s gaze dropped to your lips for a second before returning to your eyes. his arms flexed slightly as he leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“how are you doing?”
a small, shy smile tugged at your lips as you moved your head to whisper back, “aside form missing you… i’m just really bored, i guess.”
the moment the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in him. a low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest before one of his hands slowly slid up your thigh, fingers slipping under the hem of your pink uniform.
“bored?” he breathed against your ear. “that’s a shame. i’ve been thinking about you all day.”
his fingers continued their slow ascent, teasing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his mother in law slept just a few meters away. his other hand stayed planted on the armrest, keeping you trapped beneath him.
“taking care of my mother in law like i asked…” his lips ghosted along your jaw. you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him in. “maybe i should reward you for being so good.”
his hand moved higher, fingertips brushing close to the edge of your panties just beneath your waistband.
“tell me… how quiet can you be?”
without another word, sunghoon cupped your face with his other hand and kissed you.
it wasn’t gentle.
his lips claimed yours instantly, deep and desperate from the long hours of work—starving for you. you whimpered softly into his mouth as he tilted your head back, kissing you harder, tongue sliding against yours with wet, heated strokes. the quiet sounds of your lips meeting filled the dim room—soft and filthy.
“i missed you too,” your doctor whispered between kisses, voice rough. “fuck, i miss you every day, baby.”
sunghoon kissed you again, slower this time, pouring every unspoken feeling into it. his other hand slid into your hair, loosening your neat bun until strands fell around your face. you clutched the front of his white coat, pulling him closer, hearts bearing wildly against each other.
while his tongue tangled with yours, sunghoon’s slender fingers moved down to the front of your pink nurse uniform. one by one, he popped the buttons open, knuckles brushing over the swell of your breasts as the fabric parted. he groaned quietly into your mouth when he saw your lazy bra underneath.
“so fucking pretty…” he breathed, kissing you deeper as he tugged the uniform open wider, exposing your chest and stomach to the aircond. his palm slid inside, cupping your breast over the lace, thumb stroking your nipple until it hardened under his touch.
you moaned softly against his lips—and he swallowed the sound, kissing you like he wished to devour you whole.
“you have no idea how crazy you make me,” sunghoon kissed the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, down your neck while his hands roamed freely over your bare skin. another button came undone—until your uniform was completely open down the front, hanging off your shoulders.
sunghoon pulled back to look at you—flushed, lips swollen, uniform undone, chest rising and falling. his gaze was full of love and lust.
“god, you’re mine,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you again, pecking all over your cheek and jaw—eliciting a soft giggle out of you. “mine, aren’t you?” he hummed, lips brushing your ear as he kissed you there too. “say it, baby.”
“i’m yours,” you breathed, tipping your head back. “only yours, hoonie.”
even with his wife’s mother sleeping just a few feet away, there was no guilt in his eyes—only that shameless hunger he always had for you. you two had long stopped pretending this was just an affair—not when it felt real. too real.
sunghoon kissed you once more on the lips then stood up, straight in front of the couch. the bulge in his slacks was obvious, straining against the fabric. without saying a word, sunghoon looked down at you with dark, expectant eyes and slowly unbuckled his belt.
the quiet clink of metal made your tummy flutter.
you didn’t need instructions. you pulled his zipper down and freed his hard cock—it sprang out heavy and thick, the tip already glistening with precum.
“fuck… look at it—” he murmured, one hand gently cradling the back of your head. “look how hard i am for you.”
you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the head before wrapping your lips around him, taking him into your warm, wet mouth. sunghoon let out a quiet, shaky breath, jaw clenching as you started sucking him slowly.
“that’s it, shit… just like that,” he whispered, stroking your hair. his other hand rested on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin tenderly. you hummed around his cock, the vibration making his hips twitch. he kept his eyes on you the entire time—watching your pretty lips stretch around him, lashes fluttering, eyes twitching as you tried taking him as deep as you could.
your uniform still wide open and exposing your tits as you move your head.
sunghoon gently began rocking his hips, fucking your mouth with slow, deep thrusts, whispering soft praises the whole time.
“my girl. shit—your mouth feels s’good.”
he groaned quietly, fingering tightening in your hair as you took him even deeper, eyes watering but never breaking eye contact. it’s always hard to give sunghoon a blowjob—not with his size, and now with how hard it is to fit him in your mouth fully.
his hips twitched as he fought the urge to thrust deeper down and fuck your throat. your warm mouth worked him so perfectly.
“baby—fuck, wait,” he brathed, gently pulling you off his cock with a wet pop. a string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his throbbing tip. your eyebrows pinched in confusion, looking up at him. sunghoon breathed in hard, tugging down on his lip. “not yet. i don’t wanna cum in your mouth tonight.”
he helped you up and kissed you filthily, tasting himself on your tongue as he walked you backward. in one motion, sunghoon turned you around and bent you over the armrest of the couch.
sunghoon pushed your chest down against the couch cushion, arching your back nicely so your ass was up and presented to him. he stood behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other slowly pushed your pants and panties down your thighs.
the position was nasty—risky as hell. mrs. kim was sleeping just a few metres away, and if she woke up even a little, she’d have a clear, first hand view of her son in law fucking his nurse from behind like this.
holy fuck—that’s hot.
sunghoon wrapped his hand around the base, rubbing his thick cockhead between your wet folds, coating himself in your slick. they kissed like lovers too—a string of juice connected from the lips to the tip.
“‘m so wet for you, hoonie,” you moaned, pussy twitching in neediness. sunghoon chuckled, leaning over your back and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. “really?” he hummed in satisfactory, nudging his cockhead to your entrance.
“my pretty little nurse is this soaked just from sucking me off?”
he kept rubbing the head in slow, filthy circles, pressing it against your hole only to pull back again, making you whimper in frustration. you pushed your ass back against him.
“please…” you whispered, voice shaking. “i need you inside me already.”
sunghoon kissed the back of your neck, licking a stripe of it. “my mother in law’s sleeping just right there, baby,” he whispered against your neck, clearly enjoying how shameless you both were. “you really do love this cock more than anything, don’t you?”
you groaned softly, hips twitching. “s—stop teasing… i love you more, hoonie.”
with a soft grunt from him at that confession, he finally pushed the head in—stretching you open before pulling out again, repeating the motion until your thighs trembled, and until your pussy was ready to take him whole.
“fuck, you’re so cute when you’re this needy,” he whispered, burying himself deep inside you, stretching your walls around his thick length. you both moaned quietly—yours muffled into the couch cushion, his against the back of your neck.
“so big, you’re s’big,” you whimpered, fingers clutching the fabric. sunghoon groaned, pressing his lips against your skin. “no, baby—you’re just too tight… pussy made for me.”
your doctor started fucking you with deep, steady strokes, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, the wet sounds of your bodies connecting obscenely loud in the quiet hospital room.
your tits were pressed against the couch as he railed you from behind. sunghoon leaned over you, one hand gripping your hip while the other reached around to rub your clit in tight circles.
“you’re fucking dripping, baby,” he breathed hotly against your ear, hips snapping harder. “i can hear how sloppy your pussy is for me.”
you could only moan in response, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts, just as horny and addicted as he was to you. every deep stroke hit that perfect spot inside, making your eyes roll back.
sunghoon bit down on your shoulder, leaving love and teeth marks as he picked up the pace, fucking you a little harder.
“i love you so much,” he rasped, pounding his confession into you. “i don’t give a fuck about anything else, right now.”
your pussy convulsed around his cock, wrapping around him like a vice. sunghoon straightened up slightly, gripping both your hips now as he started giving you nastier strokes—pulling you back onto his cock with every thrusts and watching the way your ass rippled against his pelvis.
you’re trying so hard to stay quiet, but it felt too good. “hoonie,, fuck—” you moaned breathily. “you’re so deep… i can feel you so deep inside me.”
“yeah?” he groaned, pounding into your harder until he swore the couch was going to move. “you like that, baby?”
before you could answer, mrs. kim let out a low groan in her sleep, shifting slightly under the blanket. you both froze for a second, hearts pounding. sunghoon didn’t pull out. instead, he stayed buried balls–deep inside you, slowly grinding his cock against your walls.
when his mother in law settled again, you whimpered desperately.
“hoonie, i’m so wet it’s dripping down,” you whispered, hips trembling. “i get so horny when you’re around.”
sunghoon cursed under his breath at your filthy words. he suddenly pulled out, making you whine at the emptiness—only to turn you around. he sat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, back against his chest.
your eyes widened—legs spread wide over his thighs as he lined himself up and sank you back down onto his cock. the new position made him feel even bigger.
he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other groped your tits, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he started fucking up into you.
“fuck, i love these tits s’much,” he groaned, lips attacking your neck. he kissed you sloppily, tongue sliding into your mouth as he bounced you on his cock. “i get so pissed off when i think of you doing checkups on men,”
—which was the reason why you became his nurse.
you moaned into the kiss, grinding down on him. your hand held his arm around your waist, the other snaked up to cup his head. “hoonie, ngh—s—she’s going to wake up any time now,” you panted between kisses.
sunghoon shook his head. “it’s fine, she won’t.” he reassured so confidently, one hand massaging and pinching your nipples while the other slid between your legs to rub your clit.
the overstimulation was sending you up to the clouds—sunghoon kept hitting your cervix, his textured cock dragging against your velvety walls. “fuck, right there,” your head fall back against his shoulder. “i—i’m going to cum, hngh—babe”
“do it—cum on my cock,” he rasped against your ear, thrusting up harder. “let me feel this pussy squeeze me.”
“i love you—shit, i love you,” you whimpered, toes curling inwards.
sunghoon groaned deeply, fucking you deep and fast till your tits bounced in his hand.
“i’m close,” he panted, forehead against your shoulder. “‘m gonna cum inside you, baby. want me to fill this pretty pussy up?”
“yes—yesyesyesyes, please,” you whimpered, holding the back of your knees to steady yourself. “cum inside me, hoonie. want it so bad—want you s’bad.”
sunghoon squeezed your cheeks to make you face him—kissing you hard, tongues messily sliding together as his thrusts turned short, desperate, and deep. his other hand kept rubbing your clit, tugging the little pea.
mrs. kim groaned softly again in her sleep, but neither of you stopped. sunghoon just fucked you harder, the wet slapping sounds getting louder.
“fuck—i’m cumming,” he graoned against your mouth. “take it all, baby. take my cum—”
with a deep, shaky thrust, sunghoon buried himself as deep as possible and came hard. thick, warm ropes of cum spilled inside you, pulse after pulse, filling you up completely. he kept grinding, pushing his load deeper while kissing you through his orgasm, moaning into each others’ mouths.
you whimpered at the feeling of being so full, clenching around him as you came right after, pussy milking every last drop.
the doctor stayed inside you even after he finished, breathing heavily as he pressed soft kisses to the side of your cheek.
“i love you,” he hummed, nuzzling into the warmth of your neck. his cum slowly leaking out around his cock.
——
“alright—! you’re all good, mrs. kim!” you smiled, handing the papers to her. “blood pressure is stable, vitals are normal. you can go home today.”
sunghoon smiled as well, standing next to you. “no more being stressed over small things, yeah, mom?”
mrs. kim sighed in relief, but then her face scrunched up slightly.
“thank you, hun… but ugh… i think i had such a strange nightmare last night,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. “is this hospital haunted or something, sunghoon? i kept hearing weird sounds… it felt so real. did you hear it, yn?”
the two of you froze.
a brief, knowing look passed between you two. the corner of sunghoon’s lips twitched upward into the tiniest smirk before he quickly hid it with the back of his hand.
you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.
“n—no? not at all… there were no such sounds, mrs. kim…” you replied, shaking your head.
sunghoon cleared his throat. “...ah, hospitals can be noisy at night. don’t worry about it, mom. get plenty of rest at home—i’ll come visit soon.”
she nodded obliviously, smiling.
“about time, hm? sooha’s always complaining how lonely she is,” she shook her head, teasing. then, mrs. kim turned to you, extending her arm to rub your forearm. “thank you for taking care of me. i’ll invite you to dinner, sometime soon.”
you nodded, blood creeping up your cheeks. you held her hand fondly, shaking it.
!! synopsis: you don't need help. ever. then you fail a class and get stuck with jake sim the campus fuckboy, and your new tutor. he's cocky. he's in your space. and you're about to learn that fuckboy's tutor best.
!! warnings: smut (mdni), dom jake, sub/bratty reader, oral, fingering, pet names, dirty talk, spanking, piv, unprotected sex (dont!), praising, semi public
!! wc: 9.5k
!! a/n: pics of jake always awake something in me, sry this took forever i debated hard on the flow of this story so sorry if it feels rushed, ENJOY!
The red F on your midterm was actually offensive.
Not because you'd worked hard. You hadn't. You'd skimmed the readings, showed up to class hungover twice, and submitted a study guide you'd filled out while watching a movie. The F was fair, the problem was it bruised your ego.
Professor Lee didn't even wait for the rest of the class to leave. She caught you at the door, hand on your arm, voice low enough that only you could hear.
"A word." You followed her to her desk, she held up your exam."38 percent." she said.
"I know, I'll study harder."
"You've been skating by on charm and curve points, and now the curve can't save you." She slid a piece of paper across the desk. "Peer tutoring. Mandatory. Twice a week until your average is above a C."
You picked up the paper. One name written in blue ink.
Jake Sim.
"Jake Sim?" you said.
"He's the best tutor I have. Top of the class last semester. Top of the class now.
You knew Jake Sim. Well, you didn't know him. You knew of him. Everyone did. The guy who showed up to every party with a new girl and left with whoever he wanted. The guy who never raised his voice but always got the last word. The guy who'd held a door open for you once and looked at you like he was already bored.
"He's a fuckboy," you said not thinking she heard.
Professor Lee didn't blink. "He's also the only reason six people are passing this class right now. You start Monday. His schedule is at the bottom."
You walked out of that office with your 38 percent and a new low.
Karina and Giselle were waiting for you outside, perched on a bench, phones in hand, looking like they'd been there for hours.
"Your face says disaster," Karina said.
"I have a tutor."
"Okay?"
"Jake Sim."
Giselle's head snapped up. "Jake Sim?"
"Unfortunately."
Karina burst out laughing. "The Jake Sim?"
"Yes."
"The one who went through three sororities in one semester?"
"Yes."
"The one who corrected Sunghoon's drink order at a party and then made out with his date an hour later?"
"Karina." you screamed.
"I'm just saying!" She was grinning now. "Damn. Not Jake."
"I know."
"But also..." Giselle tilted her head. "Damn. Jake is kinda hot."
"I don't care if he's hot. He's a walking red flag with good bone structure."
"And he's your tutor." Karina wiped a tear from her eye. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"I'm going to fail."
You sat down between them and put your head in your hands. "He's going to be insufferable. You know he's going to be insufferable. He's going to sit there with that stupid smirk and explain basic statistics like I'm a child and I'm going to have to pretend I don't want to throw my textbook at his head."
"Or," Giselle said, "you could just let him be hot and enjoy the view."
"I'm not going to enjoy anything."
"You've never even talked to him."
"I don't need to talk to him to know I hate him."
Karina patted your back. "That's the spirit."
Jake was mid-bite into his sandwich when Sunghoon kicked his foot under the table.
"You got assigned a tutoring student?"
Jake chewed. Swallowed. "Yeah."
"Who?"
"Does it matter?"
Jay leaned forward. "It matters cause we are nosy."
Heeseung was already scrolling through his phone. "Professor Lee's class? She sent out the list this morning."
Jake took another bite. He'd seen the name. He'd read it twice. He'd spent maybe longer than necessary staring at it.
He knew who you were. Everyone did. The girl who walked into parties like she owned them. The girl who never asked for help. The girl who'd looked at him just once across a crowded room, and then looked away like he wasn't worth a second glance.
"You're being weird," Jungwon said from the end of the table.
"I'm not being weird."
"You're not talking. That's weird for you."
Jake set his sandwich down. "It's Y/N."
Silence.
Then Sunghoon choked on his drink.
"The one who told Professor Kim to his face that his lecture was boring?"
"That's her."
Jay whistled. "She needs a tutor? I thought she had everything figured out."
"Apparently not."
Jungwon shrugged. "She's going to hate it."
"She's going to hate me."
"Probably."
Jake thought about that. Thought about your face the one time you'd looked at him. You hadn't smiled. Hadn't blushed. Hadn't done any of the things girls usually did when they looked at him.
You'd just looked. And then you'd walked away.
"I don't know," Heeseung said slowly. "She's hot. Like, really hot. Independent. People come to her for help. This might be interesting."
"Interesting how?" Jake asked.
"I don't know. Just... interesting. She's not going to fall all over you like everyone else does."
Jake picked up his sandwich. "I'm not trying to make her fall all over me."
"Sure you're not."
"I'm just tutoring her. That's it."
Sunghoon snorted. "Famous last words."
Jake didn't respond. But he couldn't stop thinking about your name on that paper.
Y/N.
He wondered if you'd text him first or if he'd have to reach out.
He wondered if you'd show up on Monday with that same look on your face like you had nothing to prove to anyone.
He wondered what it would take to make you look at him twice.
Three days before your first session, Karina dragged you to a party.
"I need to get out," she said.
"You need to get out. I need to study."
"No babes you need to drink."
The party was at some guy's house you didn't catch the name to and you didn't care. The music was too loud, the cups were sticky, and within twenty minutes, you'd lost Karina to the dance floor and Giselle to a guy who looked like he played club sports.
You were on your third drink when you saw him.
Jake.
He was on a couch in the corner, and there was a girl in his lap.
Not sitting next to him. Not leaning against him. Fully in his lap, her legs draped over his thigh, her lips hovering near his ear. His hand was on her waist. He wasn't kissing her but it was clearly heading there.
You recognized the girl. Wonyoung. She was in your psych class. She'd spent the entire semester batting her eyelashes at every guy within a ten foot radius.
Of course it was Wonyoung.
You looked away. Drank. Looked back.
His hand had moved lower.
"Ew," you said to no one.
Karina appeared at your elbow. "What?"
"Jake Sim. With the one and only."
Karina followed your gaze. "Oh. Yeah. That's Wonyoung. She's been trying to get his attention for weeks."
"He's letting her."
"That's what he does." Karina shrugged. "He's always like that. A different girl every week. Sometimes every night. It's his whole thing."
"His whole thing is gross."
"His whole thing is effective. Look at her. She's practically melting."
You took another drink. "I have to let him teach me statistics."
"Poor you."
"I'm serious. How am I supposed to sit across from someone who acts like that?"
"You could try not staring at him."
"Shut up."
Karina grabbed your hand. "Come on. You're too sober. We're dancing."
She pulled you onto the floor. The music shifted something with a bass you could feel in your chest. You let yourself move. Let yourself forget about the F and the tutoring and the way Jake's hand had looked on Wonyoung's waist.
A guy found you. Tall. Dark hair. Cute in a forgettable way. He smiled at you and you smiled back because why not, and then his hands were on your hips and you were dancing with him.
It was fine. It was nothing.
But across the room, someone was watching.
"She's here," Sunghoon said.
Jake didn't have to ask who. He'd seen you the second you walked in. The way the room shifted when you entered. The way people looked at you like you were the main character and they were just extras.
"Yeah," Jake said. "I saw her."
Wonyoung was still in his lap. He'd forgotten she was there until she shifted and pressed closer. He should focus on her. She was pretty. She was interested. She was easy.
But his eyes kept finding you.
You were dancing with some guy now. Some random guy who'd probably never talked to you before tonight. His hands were on your hips. You were laughing at something he said.
"Why is she dancing with him?" Jake asked.
Sunghoon looked. "Because she's at a party? Because he asked? Why do you care?"
"I don't."
"You're staring."
"I'm observing."
"Heeseung called it." Jay appeared on Jake's other side. "He said you'd be interested."
"I'm not interested."
"You've looked at her twelve times in the last ten minutes."
Jake pulled his eyes away. Wonyoung was looking at him expectantly. He'd missed something she'd said.
"Sorry," he said. "What?"
"I asked if you wanted to go somewhere quieter."
The implication was clear. A month ago, he would have said yes. A week ago, he would have said yes. But tonight, for some reason, the word stuck in his throat.
"I have an early class," he said.
Wonyoung's face flickered. "Oh."
She didn't look convinced, but she got off his lap. Walked away without looking back.
Sunghoon raised his eyebrows. "You just let her go."
"She's not going anywhere."
"She's going to find someone else."
"Good for her."
Jake stood up. He needed water. Or air. Or something that wasn't watching you dance with someone else.
He pushed through the crowd toward the back of the house. The hallway was quieter. The bathroom door was cracked open, light spilling out.
He was about to walk past when you stepped out.
You nearly collided with his chest.
"Oh-" You looked up. Your eyes were glassy. You were tipsy. Maybe more than tipsy. "You."
"Me."
"I was just thinking about you."
"Good things?"
"I was thinking about how much I don't want to see you on Monday."
Jake leaned against the wall. Arms crossed. Calm. "That's funny. I was thinking about how much I'm looking forward to it."
"You're lying."
"I don't lie."
"Everyone lies."
"Not me." He tilted his head. "You're drunk."
"I'm tipsy. There's a difference."
"You're going to be hungover on Monday."
"I'm going to be fine on Monday."
"We'll see."
You stepped closer. Pointed a finger at his chest. "You're my teacher now. That's so weird."
"I'm your tutor. Not your teacher."
"Same thing."
"Different thing."
"You're correcting me already?" Your eyes narrowed. "We haven't even started."
"I'm just preparing you."
"For what?"
"For me."
You stared at him. He stared back.
"I hate you," you said.
Jake smiled. Slow. "Monday. Library. Third floor. Seven o'clock. Don't be late."
"I'm never late."
"You were late to Professor Kim's lecture three times last semester."
Your mouth opened. Closed. "How do you know that?"
"I pay attention."
You blinked at him. Then you shook your head and pushed past him, stumbling slightly on your way back to the party.
Jake watched you go.
He was definitely looking forward to Monday.
You showed up at 6:58 because you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of being late.
The library was mostly empty on a Monday night. Third floor was silent except for the hum of the vending machine and the squeak of your shoes on the floor.
Jake was already there. Of course he was.
He was sitting at a table near the window, laptop open, textbook out, pens lined up perfectly. He looked up when you approached.
"You're early," he said.
"I'm on time."
He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit down."
You sat. Dropped your bag on the floor. Crossed your arms.
"So." He closed his laptop. "Show me your exam."
"No."
"I can help you by explaining why you failed."
Your jaw tightened. "I didn't fail. I got a 38. That's not technically failing. That's... adjacent to failing."
"38 is failing."
"It's a soft fail."
"There's no such thing."
"There is if I say there is."
Jake leaned back in his chair. Studied you. "You're going to be difficult, aren't you?"
"I'm not difficult. I'm particular."
"Same thing, different font."
You almost smiled. Almost. "Fine." You pulled the exam out of your bag and slid it across the table. "There. Happy?"
He picked it up. Read it. Didn't react. "Okay," he said. "Here's the problem. You don't know how to study."
"I know how to study."
"You know how to memorize things the night before and hope for the best. That's not studying."
"It's worked so far."
"Has it?" He held up the exam. "Because this looks like your luck ran out."
You opened your mouth. Closed it.
"Here's how this is going to work," he said. "You're going to stop pretending you're too good for this. I'm going to stop pretending you're not smart. And we're both going to get through this without killing each other."
"That last part isn't guaranteed."
He almost smiled. "Deal."
He stood up. Walked to the whiteboard the library kept in the corner. Picked up a marker.
"Come here."
You didn't move.
"I'm not going to bite." He looked over his shoulder. "Unless you want me to."
"Enough with the games Sim."
"Then come here so I can actually teach you something."
You stood up. Walked to the whiteboard. Stood as far away from him as possible while still being able to see.
He drew a curve. Labeled it. Started explaining. And he was good at it.
Not condescending. Not slow. Just clear. He asked questions and waited for answers. He didn't fill the silence when you were thinking. He let you struggle until you got it.
A hour in, you understood p-values.
"This shouldn't make sense."
"But it does."
He capped the marker. "Same time Wednesday."
"Yeah."
"Try not to be so angry next time."
"I'm not angry. You grabbed your bag. Walked toward the stairs.
"Hey," he called. You turned.
Jake was leaning against the whiteboard, arms crossed. "You're not stupid. You just don't like being bad at things. There's a difference."
"That's like the second time you've said that."
"Because you keep needing to hear it."
You left. But you thought about it the whole walk home.
The sessions blurred together. Two weeks. Four sessions. Then six.
You stopped fighting it somewhere around session three. Not because you'd given up but because you'd started to actually get it. The material made sense when Jake explained it. He had a way of breaking things down that didn't make you feel like an idiot.
He was still cocky. Still insufferable. Still looked at you like he knew something you didn't.
But you weren't snapping at him anymore. You were learning.
"You're different," Karina said one day at lunch.
"I'm not different."
"You smiled at your phone. Three times. In a row."
"I was looking at memes."
"You were texting Jake."
"I was texting Jake about homework." You threw a fry at her.
Giselle watched the exchange with amusement. "She's not wrong. You've been in a good mood lately."
"I'm in a normal mood."
"You failed a midterm and you're being tutored by a fuckboy. You should be miserable."
"Maybe I've accepted my fate."
You were mid-bite into your sandwich when a shadow fell over the table.
"Hey."
You looked up. Jake was standing there. Holding your jacket.
The jacket you'd left at his apartment two days ago after a session that ran late. The jacket you'd completely forgotten about until this exact moment.
"You left this," he said. "You keep leaving things at my place."
"I don't do it on purpose."
"Sure you don't."
He set the jacket on the table. His fingers brushed yours. Too long to be accidental.
Everyone was watching. Not just Karina and Giselle, who had both gone completely still. But the tables around you. The people walking past. The girl at the fountain who'd been trying to get Jake's attention for weeks.
Wonyoung. She was standing near your table, coffee in hand, eyes locked on you. On the jacket. On the way Jake was looking at you.
"Thanks," you said, pulling the jacket toward you.
"See you Thursday," Jake said. He walked away.
The second he was out of earshot, Karina slammed her hands on the table and screamed.
"What the fuck was that!?"
"Nothing."
"That was not nothing. That was something. He brought you your jacket. He remembered your jacket. He came to find you to give you your jacket."
"He's polite."
"He's not polite. He's a fuckboy. Fuckboys don't return jackets. They keep them as trophies."
Giselle was staring at you. "You've been to his apartment."
"For tutoring."
"You're lying."
"I'm not"
"Y/N." Karina grabbed your wrist. "Look at me. Are you sleeping with him?"
"No!"
"Are you going to sleep with him?"
"I don't- I haven't- I don't know."
Karina and Giselle exchanged a look.
"Oh my God," Giselle whispered. "She likes him."
"I don't like him."
"You like him."
"I tolerate him."
Across the courtyard, Wonyoung was still watching.
She found you after class two days later.
You were walking across campus, earbuds in, not paying attention, when a hand grabbed your arm.
You spun around. Wonyoung.
"What the hell?" you said, pulling your arm back.
"Sorry." She didn't look sorry. "I need to talk to you."
"About?"
"Jake."
You sighed. "I don't have time for this."
"It'll take two minutes."
You looked at her. She was smaller than you remembered. Prettier, too, in a polished, intentional way. Her nails were done. Her hair was curled. She looked like she'd stepped out of a magazine.
"Fine," you said. "Talk."
"What's going on with you and Jake?"
"Nothing."
"He brought you your jacket."
"He's my tutor. He was being nice."
Wonyoung's eyes narrowed. "Jake isn't nice."
"Then why do you want him so badly?"
The question caught her off guard. Her composure cracked, just slightly.
"I've been trying to get his attention for months," she said. "Months. And he's never looked at me the way he looks at you."
You didn't know what to say to that.
"I'm not trying to be mean," Wonyoung continued. "I just want to know. Are you together? Is that a thing?"
"We're not together."
"But you want to be."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
She stepped back. Crossed her arms. "Fine. Whatever. Just... don't waste him. If you're not serious about him, let him go."
"I don't think Jake Sim is the kind of guy you need to protect."
"Maybe not." Wonyoung turned to walk away. Then stopped. "But you're not the only one who sees something in him."
She left.
You stood there for a long moment.
Then you pulled out your phone.
You: Some girl just cornered me about you.
Jake: Which one?
You: Wonyoung.
Jake: Ah.
You: That's all you have to say?
Jake: She's harmless.
You: She wants you.
Jake: A lot of people want me.
You: Cocky.
Jake: Honest.
You: Same thing.
Jake: Different font.
You almost smiled.
Jake: See you Thursday.
You: See you Thursday.
You brought it up during your next session.
Not on purpose. It just slipped out.
"So Wonyoung," you said, not looking up from your notebook.
Jake didn't look up either. "What about her?"
"You two have history?"
"Define history."
"I saw her at that party cuddled up with you."
He paused. Then set his pen down. "That was before we started tutoring."
"So?"
"So, nothing. She was there. I was there. It didn't mean anything."
"It looked like it meant something."
Jake leaned back in his chair. Studied you. "Are you jealous?"
"I'm not jealous."
"Your face is red." Jake smiled. Slow. "You're jealous."
"I'm not jealous. I'm... curious."
"About my romantic history?"
"About whether you're going to keep doing that while you're supposed to be tutoring me."
"Would it bother you if I did?"
You looked at him. Really looked."Yes," you said.
The word hung in the air.
Jake didn't smile. Didn't tease. He just looked at you, and something shifted in his expression. Something softer.
"Good," he said.
"Good?"
"Good that it would bother you." He picked up his pen. "It would bother me too. If it were the other way around."
You didn't know what to say to that. So you looked back down at your notebook and pretended to study.
But you could feel him watching you. And for the first time, you didn't hate it.
It happened after a late session.
You'd been studying for three hours. Your brain was fried. Your eyes were tired. And Jake had been looking at you all night like you were something he wanted to eat.
"You're staring," you said.
"I'm thinking."
"About what?"
"About how you bite your lip when you're concentrating."
Your pen stopped moving.
"Don't," you said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because we're supposed to be studying."
"We've been studying for three hours. Take a break."
"I don't need a break."
"You do." He stood up. Walked around the table. Leaned against it, right next to your chair. "You've been tensing your shoulders for the last hour. You haven't blinked in thirty seconds. You need a break."
"I need to pass this class."
"You will. But tonight you need to relax."
You looked up at him. He was close. Too close.
"And how do you suggest I do that?"
Jake's hand came up to your face. Slow. Deliberate. His thumb brushed your lower lip. "Let me," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I want to."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you need."
You should have said no. You should have packed your bag and walked out and gone home and thought about this in the morning. Instead, you kissed him.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't tentative. It was hungry and frustrated and tasted like every argument you'd been having for weeks. His hands were in your hair. Your hands were on his chest. He pulled you up from the chair and pressed you against the table.
"There she is," he murmured against your mouth.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
You kissed him harder.
He laughed. Then his hands were under your shirt and your hands were in his hair and you had never wanted anyone the way you wanted him right now.
"Bedroom," he said.
"Yeah."
He took your hand.
His bedroom was dark. The sheets were rumpled. It smelled like him, clean, with something underneath that you couldn't name. He pushed the door closed and turned to look at you.
"Last chance," he said.
"For what?"
"To change your mind."
"I'm not going to change my mind."
He kissed you again. Slower this time. His hands slid under your shirt, palms flat against your ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of your bra. You gasped against his mouth.
"Tell me what you want," he said.
"I want you to stop talking."
"That's not how this works." He pulled back. Looked at you. His eyes were dark. Serious. "I need to hear you say it."
"Say what?"
"Say you want this. Say you want me. Not because you're stressed. Not because of the tutoring. Because you've been thinking about this as much as I have."
Your heart was pounding.
"How do you know I've been thinking about it?"
"Because you're here. Because you kissed me first. Because you're looking at me right now like you want to climb inside my skin." He tilted his head. "Am I wrong?"
You grabbed his shirt and pulled him close.
"I want you," you said against his mouth. "I've wanted you since the party. Since the first session. Since you said good girl like it meant something."
"It meant something."
"Then show me."
He took his time. Unhurried. Every touch deliberate. Every kiss slower than the last. You tried to rush him. You grabbed at his belt, tugged at his shirt, tried to flip him over. He caught your wrists. Held them above your head.
"Not yet," he said. Voice low. Firm.
"Jake-"
"I've been waiting for this." His lips brushed your ear. "I'm not going to rush. You're not going to rush. You're going to take what I give you. Understood?"
You glared at him. "You're not the boss of me."
"Tonight I am."
"That's cute."
He squeezed your wrists. Not hard. Just enough. "You want to test me? Go ahead. But you're not going to win."
"You're insufferable."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
He smiled. Then he released your wrists and his mouth was on your neck, your collarbone, lower. He kissed down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. He took his time there too, mouthing at the sensitive skin, breathing hot against you.
"You're so tense," he murmured.
"I'm not tense."
"You're shaking."
"I'm cold."
"You're not cold."
He looked up at you. Held your gaze. Then he lowered his mouth where you wanted him most.
You gasped. Your hands flew to his hair.
"That's it," he said against you. "Hold on."
He worked you slowly, deliberately, watching your face the whole time. Every time you got close, he pulled back. Every time you whined, he smiled.
"Please," you finally said.
"Please what?"
"Please don't stop."
"Good girl."
He didn't stop.
His mouth was everywhere tongue flat against you, then pointed, then circling exactly where you needed him most. He groaned against your skin like he was the one getting pleased, like tasting you was his reward, not yours. His hands pinned your hips down when you tried to squirm away, holding you open for him, taking his time. He wasn't in a rush. He wanted to watch you fall apart.
When you came, you came hard, back arching off the bed, his name falling out of your mouth like a prayer. He didn't let you recover. He kissed up your body, slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world.
You reached for him, pulled him up, tried to flip him onto his back.
He didn't move.
"Not yet," he said.
"Jake-"
"You think we're done?" He pressed his forehead to yours. His breath was hot. His voice was low. "We're just getting started."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
He smiled. Slow. Dangerous.
"Pop quiz."
You blinked. "What?"
He pulled back. Sat up on his knees. Looked down at you spread out beneath him flushed, wet, still shaking from your orgasm.
"You've been learning a lot in our sessions," he said. "But I want to make sure you're paying attention."
"To statistics?"
"To me."
He reached for his belt. Unbuckled it slowly. Pulled it free from the loops.
"This is a different kind of lesson," he said. "But the rules are the same. I ask a question. You answer. If you get it right, you get rewarded."
"And if I get it wrong?"
He folded the belt in half. Tapped it against his palm.
"You get punished."
You moaned, your stomach flipped. Heat pooled low in your belly.
"What kind of questions?"
"We'll start easy." He leaned down, kissed your neck, bit softly at your collarbone. "What's the formula for a confidence interval?"
"You're joking."
"I never joke about education."
You stared at him. He stared back. His eyes were dark. Serious. Waiting.
"Sample mean," you said slowly, "plus or minus the critical value times the standard error."
"Good job."
He kissed you. Deep. Rewarding. His hand slid between your legs, fingers finding you already wet, already ready.
"That's one," he said against your mouth. "Want another?"
"Yes."
"Then pay attention."
He flipped you onto your stomach. Pulled your hips up. The belt was still in his hand.
"What's a Type I error?" he asked.
"False positive," you said quickly. "Rejecting a true null hypothesis."
"Good."
He pushed into you from behind. No warning. No slow build. Just full, deep, stretching you open. You cried out, fingers gripping the sheets.
"Jake- fuck"
"That's one point." He pulled out almost all the way. Held there. "What's a Type II error?"
You couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and you could feel yourself clenching around nothing.
"Jake, please-"
"Wrong answer."
The belt came down on your ass. Not hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to sting. You gasped.
"Type II error," he said calmly. "False negative. Failing to reject a false null hypothesis." He pushed back in, slow, torturous. "Try again."
"Type II-" You couldn't focus. He was moving now, shallow thrusts, not enough. "Type II is false negative-"
"Full sentence."
"Type II error is failing to reject- fuck- failing to reject a false null hypothesis."
"Good fucking girl."
He snapped his hips forward. Hard. Deep. You moaned into the pillow.
"You want another question?"
"Yes Jakey please"
"What's the difference between a one-tailed and a two-tailed test?"
You knew this. But he was fucking you now, really fucking you, and every thrust pushed the answer further out of your brain.
"A one-tailed-" He hit a spot that made your vision white out. "A one-tailed tests in one direction- two-tailed tests both-"
"Both what?"
"Both directions-"
"And when do you use each?"
"I don't- fuck, Jake- I can't-"
The belt came down again. Harder this time.
"Incorrect," he said. His voice was colder now. Disappointed. "You're not even trying."
"I am trying-"
"You're distracted." He pulled out. Flipped you onto your back. Stared down at you. "You're so fucked out you can't even answer basic questions."
Your face burned. From the sex. From the shame. From the way he was looking at you.
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
"Sorry isn't good enough."
He grabbed your chin. Forced you to look at him.
"You wanted this. You wanted me. Now you're going to take what I give you and you're going to earn it."
"Yes Jake"
"Shut up."
He pushed back inside you. Harder than before. Faster. His hand closed around your throat not squeezing, just holding, just reminding you who was in charge.
"I've been patient," he said, fucking you with each word. "I've been nice. I've let you be bratty and difficult and act like you're too good for this. But right now? Right now you're just a girl on her back, taking my cock because she can't handle a few simple questions."
Your eyes watered. From the sting. From the heat. From the way his words were making you feel things you didn't want to name.
"Say it," he said.
"Say what-"
"Say you're mine. Right now. In this bed. You're fucking mine."
"Mmm I'm yours-"
"Louder."
"I'm yours Jake, all yours."
He kissed you. Bruising. Claiming. His hand moved from your throat to your hair, pulling, tilting your head back.
"One more question," he said. "Get it right and I'll let you cum."
"Okay-"
"What's the probability that I'm going to stop until you've cum at least three more times?"
You blinked at him.
"That's not a real question-"
"Wrong answer."
He pulled out. Flipped you over again. Pulled your hips up and drove back in, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.
You came without warning. Without permission. Your body just broke, clenching around him, sobbing into the pillow.
He didn't stop.
"That's one," he said. "Two more to go."
"Jake- I can't-"
"You can. And you fucking will slut."
He fucked you through it. Through the oversensitivity, through the tears, through the way your arms gave out and your face pressed into the mattress.
When you came again, it was on his command. His voice in your ear. And your body obeyed.
"You're learning," he said.
He pulled out. Rolled you onto your back one last time. Stared down at you all wrecked, crying, completely undone.
"One more," he said.
"Fuck I can't-"
"You can."
He pushed back inside you. Slow this time. Gentle. His thumb found your clit and circled softly, coaxing, not demanding.
"Look at me," he said.
You looked at him.
His face was different now. Softer. His eyes were dark but not cold. He pulled you on top of him while watching you like you were something precious.
"Cum for me," he said quietly. "One more time. Nice and slow."
You came apart rolling your hips, letting it wash over you. He followed right after, buried deep, forehead pressed to yours.
Neither of you moved.
His hand came up to your face. Wiped your tears.
"You did good," he said.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No," you agreed. "I don't."
He pulled out. Pulled you against his chest. Wrapped his arms around you.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asked.
"For tutoring?"
"For whatever you want."
You laughed. It came out weak.
"Yeah," you said. "Same time tomorrow."
After that first night, something shifted.
Not dramatically. Not with words or labels or awkward conversations. It just happened. Slowly. Naturally.
Tutoring sessions still happened. Twice a week, sometimes three times. Jake still explained statistics with that infuriating calm, and you still rolled your eyes and snapped at him when he got too cocky. But now, when the session ended, you didn't leave right away.
The first time you stayed, it was because you were tired. Really tired. You'd been up late studying for a different exam, and when Jake finished explaining p-values for the third time, you put your head down on the table and didn't pick it back up.
"You can't sleep here," he said.
"I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes."
"You're snoring."
"I don't snore."
"You're snoring right now."
You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. He was smiling with a shine to his eyes.
"Come on," he said. "The couch is more comfortable."
That was the first night you fell asleep on his couch. He threw a blanket over you and sat on the floor next to you, grading papers by the light of his laptop. When you woke up at 2 AM, he was asleep sitting up, head tilted back, mouth slightly open.
You should have gone home.
You didn't.
You pulled him down onto the couch next to you, and he wrapped an arm around you without waking up, and you fell back asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
After that, it became a thing.
Some nights you slept together the real kind, the messy kind, the kind that left you breathless and sore and smiling into the dark. Other nights you just watched movies. He liked action. You liked horror. You compromised on thrillers and spent most of the time arguing about the plot.
He made you popcorn on the stove, not the microwave, because he was "not a savage." You made fun of him for it. Then you ate three servings.
You never talked about what you were.
Not once.
You were tutoring. You were sleeping together. You were cuddling on his couch at 1 AM, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, your head on his chest.
But you weren't together.
Or maybe you were. Neither of you said it.
Karina asked. Of course she did.
"So," she said one day at lunch, "are you guys like... together together?"
"I don't know."
"How do you not know?"
"Because we haven't talked about it."
"You've slept together multiple times."
"I'm aware."
"You cuddle?"
"...Yes."
"You text him good morning?"
"That's private."
"That's a yes." Karina leaned back. "You're together. You just haven't admitted it yet."
"We're not not together."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means I don't know what it means."
Giselle snorted. "That's the most non answer I've ever heard."
But they weren't wrong. Something had changed. You felt it every time Jake looked at you. Every time his hand found yours under the table. Every time he said good night like he meant stay.
You just didn't know how to name it.
Neither did he.
Jake's friends noticed before he did.
Or maybe they noticed first. He'd been different lately. Softer. He laughed more. He checked his phone more. He left parties early without explanation.
"You're whipped," Sunghoon said.
"I'm not whipped."
"You left Jay's party at 10 PM because she texted you."
"I was tired."
"You've never been tired at parties."
Jake didn't have an answer for that.
They were at their usual table on campus, halfway through lunch. Jay was picking at his food. Heeseung was scrolling on his phone.
"So," Jay said, "are you going to ask her out or what?"
"We're already... doing things."
"Doing things isn't dating."
"We watch movies."
"That's not dating either."
"We sleep together."
Jay raised his eyebrows. "Okay, that's closer. But still not dating."
Jake ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what we are."
"Then ask her."
"It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
Because he was scared. Because he'd never done this before. Because every time he looked at you, he felt something he couldn't name, and naming it made it real, and real meant he could lose it.
"Because," he said.
"Great reason."
Heeseung looked up from his phone. "You like her."
"I know I like her."
"Then do something about it."
Jake was quiet for a moment. Then he stood up.
"Where are you going?" Sunghoon asked.
"To find her. She has class in twenty minutes. I'm going to walk with her."
Jay cheered. "That's adorable."
"Shut up."
"You're blushing."
"I'm not blushing."
Jake flipped him off and walked away.
Behind him, he heard Sunghoon say, "Told you. Whipped."
He didn't turn around.
You were sitting on a bench near the science building, Karina on one side and Giselle on the other, when the topic of Jake came up.
It always came up lately.
"So," Karina said, kicking your foot, "have you guys talked about it yet?"
"Talked about what?"
"About what you are."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't know what to say."
Giselle leaned in. "You could start with 'I like you.'"
"I don't even know if he wants that."
Karina stared at you. "Are you serious?"
"What?"
"He cuddles you. He makes you popcorn. He walked you home in the rain last week. He looks at you like you hung the moon."
"He looks at everyone like that."
"He absolutely does not. I've seen him look at other girls. He looks at them like he's deciding what to order for dinner. He looks at you like he's already eaten and he's still hungry."
Giselle nodded. "She's right. He's down bad."
"He's not down bad."
"He texted you good morning every day for two weeks."
You laughed. "You guys are insane."
"We're realistic. You're the one who's in denial."
"Fine. Maybe I like him."
"Maybe?"
"Okay. I like him."
"And?" Karina prompted.
"And... I don't know what to do about it."
"You could start by not hiding it."
"I'm not hiding it."
"You literally just whispered 'I like him' like it was a secret."
"It's not a secret."
"Then say it louder."
"I like him," you said, normal volume.
"Louder."
"I like him!"
"And?"
"I like Jake Sim!."
"And?"
"And I want him to be my boyfriend!."
The words echoed across the courtyard.
You froze.
Because standing ten feet away, right at the edge of the path, was Jake.
He had his hands in his pockets. His head was tilted. And he was smiling.
"Is that so?" he asked.
Your face went red. Karina and Giselle dissolved into giggles behind you.
"Jake-" you started.
"I like you too, by the way." He walked closer. Stopped in front of you. "And I want to be your boyfriend."
"You heard that?"
"Everyone heard that."
You looked around. A few people were staring. Someone was openly filming.
"Oh my God."
"Yeah." Jake was still smiling. "So. Boyfriend?"
"Shut up."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's a shut up."
"I'll take that as a yes."
He leaned down and kissed you. Right there. In front of everyone. Karina whooped. Giselle clapped.
When he pulled back, your face was somehow even redder.
"I hate you," you said.
"No, you don't."
"You're right," you agreed.
"Good. Now walk me to class."
"You walk me to class."
He laughed. Took your hand. Pulled you up from the bench.
"See you later," he said to Karina and Giselle.
You didn't look back. Jake's hand was warm in yours.
"So," he said. "Boyfriend."
"Don't push it."
"Too late. I'm pushing it."
"You're insufferable."
"Your insufferable boyfriend."
You stopped walking. Looked at him.
"My boyfriend," you said.
"Yeah."
"Like, officially?"
"Like officially."
You kissed him again. Quick. Soft.
"Wow that was easy hmm okay," you said.
"Okay?"
"Okay, boyfriend."
He grinned.
"Now walk me to class," you said.
"Yes, ma'am."
He didn't let go of your hand the whole way.
You were exhausted.
Not because you hadn't slept. You had. But you'd slept with Jake, which meant you'd stayed up late talking, then not talking, then talking again. By the time you actually fell asleep, it was almost 3 AM.
Now you were in Professor Lee's lecture, and your eyelids were winning the war.
You rested your head on your hand. Blinked. Blinked again.
Your eyes closed.
"You're falling asleep," a voice whispered.
Jake. He was sitting next to you. He'd started sitting next to you in every class you shared, which was three. He said it was "strategic." You said it was "clingy."
"I'm not falling asleep," you murmured. "I'm resting my eyes."Your head slipped off your hand. You caught yourself just before it hit the desk.
Jake laughed quietly.
"Go away," you mumbled.
"No."
"Then let me sleep."
"You can't sleep in class."
"Watch me."
You put your head down on the desk. Your eyes closed. The professor's voice faded into background noise.
You were almost there. Almost asleep.
Then you felt it.
Jake's hand on your thigh.
You didn't move. Didn't react. Maybe he was just...
His hand slid higher. Your eyes opened.
"Jake," you whispered.
"Shh."
"What are you doing?"
"Keeping you awake."
"This isn't keeping me awake."
His fingers found the button of your jeans. Your breath caught.
"Stop," you whispered.
"Do you want me to stop?"
You didn't answer. He took that as a no.
Jake's fingers worked the button of your jeans open. Slow. Deliberate. Like he had all the time in the world.
You should have stopped him.
You were in class. In the third row. Professor Lee was ten feet away, droning on about statistical significance. There were people on either side of you. People behind you. People who could look up at any moment and see exactly what was happening.
You should have stopped him.
You didn't.
His hand slipped inside your jeans. Past the waistband of your underwear. His fingers were warm, fingertips rough against your skin, and he moved with the confidence of someone who already knew exactly where to touch.
"You're wet," he murmured, so quiet only you could hear.
"Jake."
"You've been thinking about this?"
"No."
"Liar."
His finger circled your clit. Once. Twice. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound.
"Look at me," he said.
You turned your head. His eyes were dark. Focused. That stupid smirk was gone, replaced by something hungrier.
"Don't make a sound," he said.
"I won't."
He slid a finger inside you.
Your hand flew to your mouth. You pressed your knuckles against your lips, breathing hard through your nose. The professor kept talking. No one looked back. No one knew.
Except Jake.
He added a second finger. Curled them. Hit a spot that made your vision blur.
"Jake," you breathed.
"Shh."
"Someone's going to see."
"Then you'd better be quiet love."
He pumped his fingers slowly, deliberately, watching your face the whole time. His thumb pressed against your clit with every thrust. You were gripping the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles were white.
"So tight," he murmured. "You're going to cum already?"
"No."
"You're close. I can feel it."
"You can't-"
"I can feel everything." He leaned closer. His lips brushed your ear. "I can feel how much you want this. How much you want me. You're dripping down my fingers princess."
Your face burned. Your body burned. Everything burned.
"Please," you whispered.
"Please what?"
"Please don't stop."
He didn't.
His fingers moved faster. Harder. His thumb pressed down. You were shaking, legs trembling under the desk, teeth sinking into your knuckle to muffle the sounds.
"That's it," he whispered. "Cum for me. Right here. In class. With everyone watching."
It ripped through you, sudden and violent, your back arching, your eyes squeezing shut. You bit down so hard on your hand you left marks. Jake's fingers kept moving, working you through it, prolonging it until you were nothing but static.
When you finally opened your eyes, he was smiling.
"I hate you."
"You just came on my fingers in the middle of class."You're going to thank me later."
He pulled his hand out of your jeans. Slowly. Deliberately. And then still watching you he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.
One by one.
His eyes never left yours. You forgot how to breathe.
"Jake," you said. Your voice came out strangled.
"Yeah?"
"We need to leave."
"Class isn't over."
"I don't care."
"You don't?"
"No."
You stood up. Grabbed your bag. Your legs were still shaking. Jake watched you with that infuriating calm, like he knew exactly what was coming next.
"Y/N," he said.
"Get up Jake."
"Where are we going?"
"Bathroom. Janitor's closet. Your car. I don't care. Get up."
He stood. Sling his bag over his shoulder. His hand found the small of your back as you walked toward the door. Professor Lee didn't even look up.
The second you were in the hallway, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the stairwell.
"Impatient," he said.
"Shut up."
"You dragged me out of class."
"Shut up."
"You must really want-"
You pushed him against the wall of the stairwell and kissed him. Hard. His hands went to your waist. Yours went to his belt.
"Someone could come in," he said against your mouth.
"Then you'd better be quiet."
He laughed. "Learning from me?"
"You started it in class."
"I was keeping you awake."
"You think you're funny," you said while dropping to your knees.
Jake's breath hitched.
"Oh," he said.
"Yeah. Oh."
Your hands found his belt. Unbuckled it. Pulled it open. His jeans came next, then his boxers, and he was already hard, already leaking, already looking down at you like he couldn't believe this was happening.
"You've been thinking about this," you said.
"Every day."
"Every session?"
"Every single one."
You wrapped your hand around him. Stroked once. Twice. He groaned, head falling back against the wall.
"Shh," you said. "Be quiet."
"You be quiet."
"I'm not the one who's going to make noise."
"You're about to be."
You leaned forward. Took him in your mouth.
His hand flew to your hair. Not pushing. Just holding. Just feeling.
You started slow. Teasing. Tongue flat against the underside, then pointed, then circling the tip. He tasted like salt and soap and something else you couldn't name.
"Jesus," he breathed.
You pulled off. Looked up at him.
"If I can be quiet during class," you said, "you can be quiet in a stairwell."
"That's different-"
His grip tightened in your hair. "You're evil," he said.
"You like it."
"I hate it."
"No, you don't."
You took him again. Deeper this time. He groaned, low and rough, and you felt it in your chest.
You set a rhythm. Slow. Deliberate. Every time he got close to the edge, you pulled back. Let him cool down. Started again.
He was a mess in your hands. Leaning against the wall, head back, jaw slack, breathing in short, sharp gasps.
"You're killing me," he whispered.
You took him deeper. Swallowed around him. His hips jerked.
"Fuck-"
A door opened above you.
Footsteps. Echoing down the stairs.
Someone was coming.
Jake's eyes flew open. He reached for your shoulders, tried to pull you off.
"Stop," he whispered. "Someone's-"
You didn't stop.
"Y/N-"
You looked up at him. Didn't let go. Didn't slow down.
His face was going through all kinds of emotions. Fear and pleasure and something darker, something hungrier. He was frozen, torn between pushing you away and holding you there.
The footsteps got closer.
Jake clamped a hand over his own mouth.
You smiled around him.
The footsteps passed. A door opened. Closed.
Silence.
Jake pulled you off by your hair. Not hard. Just enough.
"You didn't stop," he said.
"And?"
His eyes were black. His chest was heaving.
"You're going to regret that," he said.
"No, I'm not."
He grabbed you by the jaw and pressed you against the wall, back to concrete, his body flush against your chest.
"You think you're in control," he said into your ear.
"I know I am."
"You're not."
His hand fisted in your hair. Tilted your head back.
"Open," he said.
You opened your mouth.
He pushed inside. Not gentle. Not slow. Rough and deep and exactly what you'd been waiting for.
"You wanted to play," he said, thrusting into your mouth. "Now you're going to finish what you started."
His hand held you in place. His hips snapped forward. He fucked your mouth like he'd been holding back the whole time and he had finally snapped.
You gagged. Tears pricked your eyes. You didn't pull away.
"That's it," he groaned. "That's my girl."
He was messy. Sloppy. Spit dripped down your chin. He didn't care. Neither did you.
"I'm close," he said. "You're going to take all of it like a champ right?"
You looked up at him. Nodded as best you could.
He came with a choked sound, buried deep in your throat, and you swallowed everything. Didn't miss a drop.
He pulled out. Stepped back to admire you.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Looked up at him.
He was wrecked. Hair a mess. Chest still heaving. Looking at you like you'd just ruined him for anyone else.
"Good girl," he said, voice hoarse.
You stood up. Fixed your clothes. Fixed his.
"We're going to be late for class," you said.
"I don't care."
"You should care. You're a tutor."
"I'm your tutor." He kissed you. Soft this time. Almost sweet. He took your hand. Led you back toward the door.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asked.
"Same stairwell?"
"Same stairwell."
You laughed. Pushed the door open.
The hallway was empty.
No one knew what had just happened.
That was the best part, it was yours and Jakes dirty secret.
Parties weren't your thing anymore. Or maybe they were, but you'd rather be on Jake's couch, wrapped in his hoodie, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin while some terrible action movie played in the background.
But Jake had asked.
"Come with me," he'd said, tugging on the sleeve of his black button down. The one that made your brain short-circuit.
"Why?"
"Because I want to show you off."
"You want to show me off?"
"Yeah." He said it like it was obvious. "You're hot. I'm hot. We're hot together. People should know."
So now you were here.
The music was loud enough to feel in your teeth, and the lights were low enough that you could pretend no one was staring.
But they were staring.
Because you walked in with Jake's hand on your lower back, his fingers pressed into the curve of your waist, and everyone noticed.
That's Jake's girl.
Damn, they look good together.
You danced with Jake. You drank something sweet that he handed you. You met his friends properly met them, not just the passing introductions from before.
"I'm going to grab a drink. You want one?"
"Yeah. Same thing."
"Be right back."
He disappeared into the crowd.
That's when she found you.
"You think you're so special."
You turned. Wonyoung.
She was standing a few feet away, drink in hand, eyes sharp. She looked good she always looked good but there was something brittle about her tonight. Something desperate.
"Wonyoung," you said.
"Don't say my name like you know me."
"I don't know you. That's the point."
She stepped closer. "You think you've won."
"I'm not playing a game."
She stepped closer. Close enough that you could smell her perfume. "He's going to get bored of you," she said. "He gets bored of everyone. You're not special. You're just the one who said no first. That's all this is. A challenge. Once he wins, he'll move on."
"You already tried that line."
"Because it's true."
"It's not."
"How do you know?"
You tilted your head. "Because I'm here. And you're not."
Her face twisted. "You're such a bitch."
"And you're obsessed with my boyfriend. Which one's worse?"
"You're not even-"
"I'm not even what? His girlfriend?" You smiled. "I am. He asked. I said yes. Sorry you had to find out like this."
Wonyoung's face went red. Then white. Then red again.
"You're lying." She looked like she wanted to throw her drink in your face. You almost wished she would. At least then you'd have an excuse.
But before she could move, a hand landed on your waist. Jake.
"I leave for five minutes," he said, voice calm, "and you're already causing trouble."
"I'm not causing anything. She started it."
Jake looked at Wonyoung. His expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes went cold.
"Wonyoung," he said. "We've talked about this."
"Have we?" She laughed. "You've been ignoring me for weeks. You don't return my texts. You don't even look at me anymore."
"Because I have nothing to say to you."
"You had plenty to say before."
"That was before." He stepped closer to you. His hand stayed on your waist. "Before her."
Wonyoung's eyes flicked to you. Filled with something ugly.
"I'm going to say this once," Jake said. "Stay away from her. Stay away from me. If I hear about you coming near her again, talking to her, texting her, even looking at her I'm going to make sure everyone knows exactly what you've been doing."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
Wonyoung stared at him. Then at you. Then back at him.
"I loved you," she whispered.
"No." Jake shook his head. "You wanted to win me. There's a difference."
She didn't respond instead she turned and walked away.
Jake's hand was still on your waist. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, she's not worth my energy."
He watched your face for a long moment. Looking for cracks. Finding none. You let the silence stretch. Let your heartbeat slow. Then you looked up at him.
"I've been meaning to tell you something."
"I got a 95 on the test."
Jake blinked. "What?"
"The exam. The one you've been tutoring me for. 95 percent."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Show me."
You pulled out your phone. Opened the grade portal. Turned the screen toward him.
95. Right there. Jake stared at it. Then at you. Then back at the screen.
"You did that," he said.
"We did that."
"No." He shook his head. "You did that. I just explained things. You did the work."
"Jake-"
"95 percent." He was smiling now. The one that made your chest ache. "That's my girl."
Your face went warm. "Don't."
"My girl with the 95."
"Jake."
"My girl who's going to pass the class with flying colors because she's smarter than she gives herself credit for."
"Okay, okayyyy"
"My girl."
He kissed you.
Not hard. Not desperate. Soft. Slow. Like he was memorizing the shape of your mouth. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
"I'm proud of you," he said. "Like, really proud."
"I know."
"Like, I'm going to tell everyone how proud I am."
"Please don't."
"Too late. I'm already texting Sunghoon."
"Jake!"
He was already typing. Grinning. You laughed. Hit his chest. He caught your hand and held it.
"Same time tomorrow?"
You looked at him. The cocky tutor who'd gotten under your skin. The guy who remembered your coffee order and mopped on Mondays and looked at you like you were the only person in the room.
𓊆西村力 x fem reader𓊇 💌 scent kink, panty sniffing, riki jerks off to your scent and panties and bra, sunshine gf x grumpy bf troupe kinda, he's NASTY and disgusting
𓆩♡𓆪 i cannot resist it U guys. nishimura riki i fucking love u. ure so fun to write with and your girlfriend will always be the contrast of u. if u <3 it pls give it lots of love and feedbacks!!
“sooo… how do i look?”
your boyfriend was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, wearing nothing but black sweatpants and a sleeveless white tee. his phone slipped from his hand the second he looked up. his eyes dragged slowly down your body, then back up.
“whoa… hot stuff,” he breathed, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “you’re looking way too good. c’mere,”
you walked closer until you were standing between his knees. riki leaned back slightly on his hands, tilting his head as he took you in again.
“turn for me.”
you gave him a slow swirl. the second your back was to him, you heard him curse under his breath.
“fuck. again. slower.”
you obeyed, turning even slower this time. when you faced him again, riki’s hands were already reaching out. he grabbed the side of your skirt and tugged you forward sharply, making you stumble into him with a small gasp and a giggle.
“damn,” he murmured, voice lower now. his gave went straight to your waist, nose brushing the fabric of your top before he inhaled deeply. “god… what is that perfume? you smell insane.”
you giggled, hands coming up to brush his blonde locks. “it’s very good girl, baby. you bought it for me, remember?”
riki let out a low groan, like the name itself turned him on.
yeah… you’re a very good girl. his very good girl.
he tugged you forward, bringing you down to sit on his lap with your back pressed against his chest. the moment you were settled between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“yeah… fuck, i chose too well, didn’t i?” he whispered right against your ear.
you let out a bright, giggly laugh as his nose immediately buried into the side of your neck, inhaling deeply. the warm scent of your perfume (that he bought)—sweet, flirty, a little sinful for his sanity—drove him crazy.
he dragged his nose slowly along your skin, breathing you in.
“mmmhm,” he hummed, the sound vibrating against you. his hands started roaming—one sliding up your thigh under the hem of your skirt, the other resting possessively on your tummy, fingers stroking that sliver of bare skin.
you squirmed and chuckled, that contrasting sunshine energy bubbling through you. “ki, that tickles—”
but he only smiled against your neck and pressed a slow, open–mouthed kiss right under your ear. then another. and another. above the marks he left just a few days ago. his lips trailed lower, sucking softly on your pulse point while his hand squeezed your thigh.
“you smell so fucking addictive,” he muttered between kisses. he turned his head and kissed your other cheek, then nibbled softly on your earlobe, making you squeal with laughter.
“ki!” you whined, tilting your head away instinctively out of tickledness, but he just followed, chasing your skin.
“can’t help it. my girl smells too sweet.” his hands kept moving—one slipping under your top to caress your waist, the other stroking up and down your thigh like he was feeling you up.
riki kissed along the curve of your neck, then moved up to your jaw, cheek, and back down again, leaving wet little marks everywhere. everytime you giggled and tried to wriggle away, he only tightened his arms around you and pulled you closer.
“you’re really gonna walk out smelling like this?” he mumbled between kisses, voice muffled against your skin. “gonna make other people lose their minds too?”
he sucked a little harder on one spot, trying to leave a more obvious boyfriend territory mark before you left later—if he even allowed you still. when you shivered, he smiled against your neck.
“‘m gonna be late, kiiii,” you whined playfully, body leaning slightly forward.
riki hooked one arm around your waist and pulled you right back against his chest, nose burying deeper into the crook of your neck as he inhaled again. his free hand slid up your thigh under your skirt, hiking the denim up while he pressed more kisses along the side of your throat.
“mmm… i don’t think i wanna let you go today,” he murmured, voice teasy against your ear. he gently nippled at your lobe before kissing the sensitive spot right underneath. “you look way too pretty—just stay with me?”
he hugged you tighter, lips never leaving your neck.
you let out a soft “nooo,” dragging the word in that sweet, whiny way that always, always made his heart doing somersaults.
your boyfriend laughed, the sound low vibrated against your lips. he gave up (for now) but he still kept his arms wrapped tightly around you, refusing to loosen his hold.
“fine, fine,” he chuckled, sucking the spot beneath your ear. “you can go… but, wait.”
he reached over to the bedside and grabbed his own bottle of perfume and with a playful grin, he held it up in front of you.
“let me spray you with mine real quick.”
you giggled and tilted your head up against his shoulder so he could spray a light mist along the side of your neck and collarbone—and riki, being riki, sprayed a mist between your cleavage too.
that pervert.
he leaned in instantly, nose brushing your freshly scented soft skin.
“mm… yeah, that’s better.” he hummed happily, clearly satisfied. “now you smell like me too.”
——
fap. fap. fap. fap. fap.
“shit…” he groaned, eyes rolling back. his fist started moving fast, slick and desperate from the precum already dripping down his length. he buried his nose deeper into the crotch of your panties, breathing you in while your bra rested against his cheek and mouth.
he could smell your everywhere.
“fuck, you smell so good,” he moaned into the lace, voice muffled. his tongue darted out, licking the fabric where your pussy had been just this morning. the taste made his cock throb violently in his fist.
riki stroked harder, hips bucking up into his hand, messy and frantic. the wet clicky sounds filled the room as he pressed your panties tighter against his face, inhaling over and over like he was trying to consume you.
he was completely lost in it…
these were the panties you’d worn all night long—slept in, curled up beside him. the ones that had been pressed against your pussy for hours while you were soft and warm. this was your most natural scent—sweet, intimate, you. the best fucking perfume in the world.
“so warm… fuck, you wore this all night, baby,” he groaned to himself, voice wrecked. “little pussy was rubbing against them for hours… so fucking good.”
he took another long, greedy inhale, nose buried deep in the crotch. his fist moved faster along his big, curvy cock, slick and noisy and annoying.
fap. fap. fap. fap. fap.
then, he grabbed your bra and wrapped the lace strap around his throbbing cock, right under the head, and squeezed. the feeling of your bra tightening around his length made him moan aloud.
“shit—fuck—”
he started stroking again, using the bra strap like a cock ring, the lace rubbing against his sensitive skin with every frantic pump. riki started sucking on your panties—smashed against his face, breathing you in.
he thrust up into his fist, hips stuttering, eyes rolling back as he moaned into the soaked lace.
“gonna cum so fucking hard… because of you—fuck, baby—”
his strokes turned brutal, the wet clicky sounds getting louder and messier as precum dripped all over your strap. sucking on the fabric of your panties and inhaling deep—riki cums.
thick ropes of semen shot across his abs and chest, some of it landing on the cups of your bra. his whole body jerked hard with every pulse, hips still weakly fucking his fist while he kept your panties pressed to his nose, riding out the high on nothing but your scent.
even after he finished, he stayed like that for a long minute—chest heaving, your used panties still covering half of his face, your bra strap loosely around his throbbing cock.
