#evan lee

[evanshyangel]

21+ nsfw audio - MDNI.

riding submissive heeseung until he cums inside you

+ bed squakes

[hazeheart12]

A LITTLE CLOSE THIS TIME [¯◉°] 이희승/EVAN

film features…….bsf!Heeseung & bsf!freader

film contains…….You are doing skin care for your best friend by sitting on his lap as usual, while he is gaming, but accidentally grind on him, ending up with his cock inside you

film caution …….MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Unprotected sex(don’t do it) dry humping, making out/ kissing, grinding, fingering, edging, nipple play, talking abt fem!reader body parts, neck kisses, nipping the neck, spanking, usage of the word ass, clit play?, mentions of nick names like baby and etc, riding, tell me if anything more should be mentioned.

film length………5.2min(5.2k)

film keeper whispers ……….This is my first ever time publishing fic, I’m learning to write since I imagine a lot, I want to get it into words and now I got an idea for this with the help of Pinterest 😪. I tried my best, and slowly I’m gonna start my oneshot, idk how long it’s gonna be 🤷‍♀️. If any mistakes, let me know. Please request if u want anything. I will try my best to write butI’m a slow writer 😢. Would love moots, reblogs and likes ♥️ (part two)

film melody playing……….. into you- ariana grande

˚ ༘ 🎞️ ｡𖦹 ° 🎥 ⁀જ⁀➴ film starting……..

The chaotic bursts of neon light from the monitors washes over the room, casting long, jagged shadows against the walls of Heeseung’s room.

The room smells of expensive cologne, ozone from the humming PC, carrying the faint and sterile scent of rosewater and gentle soap in the air. 

You are seated on Heeseung’s lap, straddling his hips, knees around them, on his chair, facing him in a position that the friction of your thighs against his jogger’s can’t be ignored.

Heeseung is fully concentrating on his game for now. 

His eyes are sharp, darting to every move in the game, playing it very carefully though you are quite a distraction to him. 

The headset he has on is filled with sounds of  explosions and gunshots, and he  pushes one piece of the headset aside so he can hear you.

You hold a small glass jar aloe vera gel, the product cool and smooth between your fingertips.

You’ve been massaging it on his face for the past ten minutes or maybe you just use it as an excuse to stay on his lap longer. 

But then still, you don’t care about the game he was playing, you just wanted to end the ‘washing face with whatever soap is there in the shower’ routine for him, so he can get good and fresh skin.

“Stop moving idiot” you murmur, voice soft but firm and commanding him a little because he keeps on moving.

You can feel the heat radiating from him as you blend the cream on his face in small upwards circles.

His jaw is clenched, trying his best not to feel you and your stupid tactics as a distraction, which you are sitting innocently on his lap like you don't understand what’s wrong in doing this.

“I’m in an important fight, Y/N” he grunts, though there’s no real anger behind his voice.

“If I lose this round, I’m gonna blame you and your so-called skincare routine” he adds, mocking lightly.

“Uhh, my skincare routine is obviously way better than whatever you do in the stupid shower,” you retort, sliding your fingers on his temple now.

“No soap is gonna clean your face like my skincare does, your skin feel shit, and it’s screaming for help, so think of this as an upgrade for your face”

He lets out a laugh, his eyes fixed towards the screen. “Sure,” he says as if it’s nothing, “My skin has a mouth and it’s screaming”. 

You roll your eyes at that, moving a little back so you can look at him even though he doesn’t.

“Just because it doesn’t have a loud, cocky mouth like you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” you shoot back. 

“And for your kind information,” you continue, leaning closer to his face again, to spread the gel on his face, “You’re skin is so dehydrated, maybe it looks fine, but it really isn’t, so be grateful”

“I should be— What? grateful? Why? And what? I have a cocky mouth?” he splutters, turning towards you showing an exaggerated, horrified expression which was totally just acting.

"First place, I don’t even care about my skin, Second, you should be grateful that I’m letting you do this while I’m literally in the middle of a serious fight, Third—”

“Hey, dont move!,” you interrupt, pushing back his face towards the screen.

“I can’t do it properly, if you keep moving” you add and he becomes quiet and goes back to playing his game very seriously.

You slowly get even more closer to his face. 

For real, you’ve done this almost a hundred times before, sitting on his lap touching his face and all stuff, but today something in the air feels different.

For the first time the closeness doesn’t feel normal.

It feels dangerous, surreal and maybe something new.

Every time he breathes near you, every time his chest brushes against yours, you feel your pulse raise. 

You try to ignore it, focusing your attention back to what you are doing, but it only makes it worse, because now, you’re actually looking at him. 

The sharp line of his nose, the long lashes that fall against his skin, the bambi-like looking eyes, and then your gaze drops down— unintentionally. 

You blink, realizing you are staring at him, you shake your head slightly to clear it, pushing those sudden, distracting thoughts away as quickly as they come. 

You don't want to be caught by him, which will only make it more embarrassing.

You quickly turn back to your work— properly this time. 

So, you shift your weight, moving closer to him, trying to adjust the position so reaching the bridge of his nose would be easier.

As you move, your thighs slide against his joggers, hips very slightly against each other, the friction sending a sudden spark through your body, but you push it away. 

It was just a small moment for you, which you just want to ignore, but it sent a shudder through Heeseung’s body which you didn’t know.

“Fuck—” Heeseung groans, throwing his head back against the chair, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down, suddenly gripping your hip with one hand so tightly as you freeze at the pressure.

“Don’t—Don’t fucking do that, I’m trying my best to concentrate, baby” he forces out softly, the words tight as he grits his teeth.

You don’t understand what happened.

One second, you’re applying the gel on his face, moving closer to reach his nose—and the next, he throws his head against the chair and it’s pissing you since you already told him to not move.

“I said to not move, Heeseung!!  And seriously, it’s not my mistake that you can’t concentrate on your game” you say, a hint of irritation slipping through your voice.

You don’t understand what is wrong or what is his problem, even though it was quite obvious you couldn’t figure it out, so you just get back to working on his face. 

You shift your weight again, trying to adjust your position to get a better angle on his face, slightly moving left. 

This movement causes your leggings to unintentionally rub your thigh against his growing hardness.

“Baby, fuck—“ he rasps, as his other hand also leaves keyboard to grab the other side of your hip and holds you so tightly with both of the hands that you were sure it will leave few bruises by tomorrow. 

His head abruptly falls on your shoulder as the room fills with the loud harsh blares from the monitor which indicates he lost the game but you didn’t know it.

“Heeseung what the—” before you could even scold him, you gasp from him pulling you down, pressing you against him in a way that you can feel his big bulge on your core. 

“Heeseung….” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Don’t—fucking don’t,” he starts, speaking as his head is still on your shoulder, you hear it in his voice, how he is trying his all best to control himself. 

“Don’t tell me stop when all I was doing was sitting here….trying my all best to control myself, while here you are sitting on my fucking lap, moving how ever you want……. God! Y/N you’ve been killing me here, I can’t stop anymore—”

He stops talking, lifting his head from your shoulder before capturing your lips in a searing, aching, desperate kiss, hands moving from your hips to your waist, gripping it so tightly it knocks the air out of your lungs.

He kisses you rough, like gentleness isn’t even an option right now, like he’s done holding back, done pretending this doesn’t mean anything as the gel smears on your face from his face.

All the years of your friendship, when he did his best to hold back, but now he’s done.

For a second you forget how to breathe, the intensity, the desperation and the desire from his mouth against yours, knocking the thoughts out of your brain.

You don’t even process the fact that HE, HE, your best friend is kissing you right now. Never in a million years did you think this out of all would happen—a lie you had a lot of sex dreams with him cuz he was too hot, and……..never mind.

You are still trying to process this when the grip on your waist tightens to pull you out of your thoughts.

The jar slips from your hand, shattering into pieces, and gel spreads everywhere on the floor, but you don’t even notice it. 

You melt against him, your hand slowly moving from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers curling tightly in the hair as you pull him closer and kiss him back with the same desire, desperation and intensity.

He lets out a low deep growl, something filled with satisfaction like he knew you would kiss him without holding back.

It vibrates through your whole body, slowly heat starts coiling up in your lower belly more than what you felt a while ago.

You start feeling needy and want him more than you ever did.

But then he pulls back, forehead against yours, his breath hot, and his lips swollen from the hard rough kiss.

“Tell me to stop—” he whispers against your mouth in a low hoarse, octave voice which sends a shiver through your body.

You shake your head instantly before he can even finish.

“No,” you whisper, the word barely leaving your throat. “Don’t. Please don’t ” 

You roll your hips against his voluntarily. 

You need more.

You need the friction to not be a tease and start being the truth. The reality.

“Fuck—“ Heeseung hisses the moment he hears the deny and feels the roll of your hips directly against his bulge.

This time you’ve done it on purpose, you need more and you are clearly showing it.

He roughly grabs your jaw,tilting your head back, and crashing his lips on to yours again.

This time it’s all tongue and teeth, he doesn’t ask for permission, he claims it like it’s his.

You gasp into the kiss, this was more aggressive and desperate han before.

He takes his chance to enter his tongue into your mouth when you gasp.

His tongue plunges into your mouth, taking in your whispers and every inch of your mouth, he doesn’t waste a single single second.

His palm is hot.

He moves his hand from your waist to your hips as they slowly slip under your long hoodie or probably his which you wear all the time.

His hands move on your lower back, pulling you closer that there isn’t a millimetre also left between you both.

He breaks the kiss to move lower, his lips dragging along your jaw, sucking gently, before moving down to the column of your throat.

You tilt your head back without thinking, giving him more, your fingers going to his shoulders to hold tightly as his kisses grow firmer, more lingering.

“Hee….mm….Hee…” your breath stutters, his name coming from your mouth like a chant, unsteady whispers, which you can’t hold back anymore. 

His hand moves down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before delivering a spank.

His palm against your ass made you leave out a loud gasp, your back arching slightly.

He doesn’t pull away, he soothes it down slowly, in a way it makes your toe curl. 

The literal sensation sends sparks right over to your core, making you clench a round nothing.

He starts placing open mouthed kisses near your collarbone and neck, his breath hot and damp, leaving the warmth of his mouth behind.

He moves below your ear, instantly financing your sweet spot and nips your skin lightly.

You let out a sharp cry, breathing unsteadily.

The moment you let it out, he leans in again, nipping it harder than before, sucking a dark, purple mark, visibly claiming you.

He follows down to your collarbone, nipping wherever he finds your sweet spots to let out those sweet little sounds that feel like music to his ears.

You don’t stop, you keep whimpering his name, gasping when his tongue darts out to lick gently after nipping on your sweet spots.

You are drenched. 

Your panties are suffocatingly tight because of the silk clinging to your folds as you leak for him.

You need him.

You need to feel full.

You were sure it is making it hard to even take in air properly just because of his hot kisses on your body.

One of his hands tugs the hem of your hoodie, asking you permission if he was allowed to remove it while he was still busy marking you up.

“Yes! Please—remove it” you please, your voice cracking a little bit.

He doesn’t even take a second to tug it off, the moment you accept it, in one fluid motion he pulls it off you.

For a second he freezes.

You aren’t wearing a bra, the cool air hitting your bare skin, making your nipples harden and maybe you weren’t even sure if it was air or his gaze all over your body making you turn again and again and again…..

You aren’t wearing anything else except the black lace of your panties peeking out of your tiny shorts you wore.

“Fuck baby—” he growls, his eye’s darkening, pupils expanding until his hazel is almost entirely black.

He looks at you like you’re both sin and miracle given to him at once.

“This is what you have been gatekeeping from me, huh?” he asks, his hands moving to cup the underside of your breast, lifting them up slightly, as his thumb slightly grazes over the peck.

 You whimper, throwing your head back at that little touch surge of pleasure shoots to your core.

“This tiny waist,” his hands moving to the mid section, squeezing the softness there, devouring your body with his eyes.

“These wide, beautiful hips,” his finger moving on the waistband, pulling the elastic tight.

He bends a little, pressing a hot, lingering kiss right above the fabric of your panties, his lips grazing the skin of your hip.

The sensation sends a jolt through your body, sending shivers as your legs shake.

“Including the ass you’ve been teasing me with for years,” he said his voice filled with lust and love, and then he looks at you, how you look wrecked just for his touch.

He spanks you again, harder and more firm this time.

You cry out, a sound filled with shock, pleasure and pain, but please wins it all for now.

You thought he would probably soothe it again but no, it was paining harder but he made no movement to touch or soothe it, just casually leans back on to the chair.

He just lets it linger there, making it a reminder for you.

To remind you, who you actually belong to though he hasn’t fucked the shit out you yet.

Now his gaze isn’t on your face, it moves lower.

Your neck. No

Your collarbone. No

Your Shoulders. No

Just shamelessly, directly looking at your breasts with a hungry gaze, something you wanted to see all along.

“And finally……these beautiful, big boobs” he whispers.

He bends down, his lips hovering right over your breast, his hot breath teasing your nipples.

And then he pecks it…..to just tease you more.

The moment his hot breath was on your nipple.

Just his hot breath. 

Hot.

Breath.

You found yourself getting hungrier for him, you didn’t want him to tease you, you needed him, right then and there.

He knew it, he knew how you felt, how you are breathing, how you need him, but won’t give you what you want right now.

“Hee please—” you grind on him again but he holds back your hips making you stop, before you please again or tell him how badly you need him.

Then he starts sucking it, like he can’t hold back anymore, like this was the last thing left on the earth, maybe even like he was thirsty for them.

He wants to tease you, but couldn't hold himself back from you either, that grinding, those pleas from your mouth, made him rethink his decision from teasing you.

You could hear his sucking sounds, wet and vulgar, because of the wetness of his saliva spreading on to your nipples.

Your back arches, your hands instinctively find his hair, gripping it tightly.

He groans at the tight pull of his hair, making him harder underneath.

He sucks on your nipples, tongue circling around the peck, and tugging it slightly before sucking it again, doing the same thing over and over again, while his other hand finds your breast, squeezing, kneading it and rolling your nipple in between his fingers.

You moan, loud, honest, no stopping.

The pleasure was too good.

Your hips start bucking instantly against his bulge again, rolling your hips harder than before, grinding more.

He notices it as he pulls back from sucking with a wet plop.

“Eager now baby?” He teases, his voice dropping low.

You nod, hips moving harder, searching for friction.

For a second he thought to let you do something at least for yourself or not stopping you like he was before but no, straight away his hands move to your hips stopping you right when you thought it was getting better.

Then he bends down and moves to the other breast without a word to you, giving it the same attention as before, while his other hand was on the breast which was wet from his saliva, but still playing with it, satisfying you with his hand.

It was good, undeniably you like you, but the fact that your pussy was throbbing to be filled was not ignorable. 

You didn't want to wait. 

“Hee….please…please..I need you so bad—ahh” you let out a sharp cry as he bites down your nipples, his hands lowering, across your thighs and rids your shorts from your legs without asking you.

“Needy baby?” He asks as he pulls back, like knew nothing.

“Hee—ahhh” you moan when his fingers touch the wetness of your pussy just through the lace black panties.

“So wet for me baby” he coos as he feels the moisture soaking through the lace.

He finally strips them away also, leaving you bare on his lap, pressing against him.

The contact is sharp, as now you are directly pressing against the rough fabric over his bulge.

He finds his way to your clit, pressing on the swollen bud right away, rubbing it in circles with no patience, but with punishing pressure that makes your vision blur.

Your mouth opens, letting out sharp breaths, eyes shut, finally getting whatever you’ve been longing for, you instinctively bite down on your lips as choked sobs and moans come out of your throat.

“No baby, don’t bite your lip, don’t stop, moan for me, darling” he says softly, before pushing 2 fingers into your soaking warmth at once.

You scream from the sudden push, it wasn’t warned, it was too sudden.

He starts pushing deeper into your spongy walls, as your walls clench around his fingers, he groans in your neck, his fingers curling in spots making you moan and vision blur from the pleasure.

“Fuck baby, thats it, take my fingers like a good girl” he finally adds the third finger, stretching you apart as you wail, and then heeseung leans to kiss you again, tongue entering your mouth directly, taking in all your sounds while pumping his fingers in and out, while his thumb presses and circles on your bud.

He moves faster, pulling away from the kiss, gripping your hips tightly while pumping his fingers faster, your hands move to his shoulders tightening as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, while whimpering and gasping, leaving out breathy huffs.

As you feel your orgasm building, tightening low in your belly, just the tension in your thighs becomes unbearable.

“Hee— I’m—” before could even finish your sentence, he pulled out his fingers, just only the pad of his thumb pressing over your swollen clit, trapping the pleasure before it could explode.

Your eyes open wide, blown in shock as a moan of frustration screeches from your throat at the literal loss of his fingers inside.

“Hee, why–” you gasp, hips bucking instinctively towards his hand wanting more.

“Mmm” he just hums, looking down at your pussy while circling your clit, rubbing it in small circles but never quite providing the friction you need to tip over the edge.

“Hee, please!” you whine, trying to grind his hand, but he holds your hip tight enough to not let you move, he is still looking at your pussy, but then finally looks up.

Eyes dark with lust, his smoldering gaze at you making you pause for a second before he says “please, what?” in a low octave, his voice sounding husky.

“I-I need to come,” you wail, grinding on his bulge over his rough fabric making you want more, in fact you’ve never felt this needy.

Him edging you just made it worse, you couldn't take the teasing now, you need him and you won't stop asking for it.

“please hee please I need you, I want you so badly. I can’t take it anymore!!” you beg. 

He chuckles, a dark, hungry sound.

He doesn't put his fingers back in you or do anything you asked for.

Instead, he starts to kiss you, deep, demanding kisses that taste of mint and desperation.

The intensity of the kiss swallows you while leaving you breathless and your hands move to his head, running your hands through his long, lustrous black hair.

His tongue slides against yours, sucking and swirling desperately while sliding down his joggers and boxer to pull his cock out.

He pulls away from the kiss, pulling your head back away from his.

You look down into his hands and the moment you saw it, you were starstuck.

He is big.

Not big like you think, very big in a way you weren't sure if you could even take him.

It was shocking.

You knew this was coming, when you guys crossed your lines today but god he is just so big.

His cock is big, fucking standing straight, curling a little but still so so straight in way you never stood in your whole life, wow, it is hot and swollen, throbbing as the tip is in a beautifully pink color, glistening with precum as he held the shaft in his hand.

You are staring at it shamelessly, because who wouldn't look at something so beautiful and gorgeous. 

“Like what you see baby?” he asks, when he caught you staring at his cock.

You snap out of your thoughts, raising your head up, eyes locking on to his eyes, as your cheeks burn from embarrassment.

“Want it inside you baby?” he questions as he feels your arousal just by looking at you face.

You nod slightly and that's what it takes before he jerks it on your pussy once, slapping his cock against it a few times, spreading his precum all over.

An unfiltered screech comes out of your throat, showing how needy you are when he slaps the tip on your pussy.

You move a little, rubbing it a little on his cock, whimpering a little.

“You want it so bad right? You’ll get it baby” he doesn't wait another second.

 He grips your waist and heaves you upward and then slams you down on to his cock.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders as you scream into the crook of his neck when he buries himself, all the way to the hilt inside you in one fluid, powerful motion.

The fullness is overwhelming, a blunt pressure that hits your cervix and sends ripples of pleasure radiating through your entire lower body. 

The sensation is overwhelming, the feeling of being completely filled, the stretch of your pussy, the sudden, intense heat of him deep within your pussy.

You feel your internal muscles spasm around him, clamping down tight, clenching it so tight which makes Heeseung leave a raw guttural growl out feeling you all around him.

His cock twitches inside you, showing how badly he needed this.

“Baby–fuck, so tight…you feel so good baby” he says, his hands sliding down to your ass gripping. 

You stay still for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the only sound the heavy thrum of the PC fans and your synchronized gasping.

The gaming chair creaks as you begin to move, tentatively at first, lifting your hips a few inches and then sliding back down.

You only lift an inch before slamming back down, the impact making the gaming chair rock precariously. 

The feeling of him filling inside you was so so good, that you didn't care about anyone hearing your moans, as your moans echo all through the room. 

Your grip on his shoulder tightens as the pleasure of him being inside you, stretching you apart with his cock was the best feeling you ever felt.

The squelching and wet sounds of your pussy moving on his cock, taking him all the way down to his shaft, then moving back halfway, and falling back down, with your moans and Heeseung’s groans fill you the room.

The sounds are lewd, obscene or even pornographic, it didn't feel real.

You riding your best friend's cock feels like a dreaming true. 

You slowly find your rhythm, more confident, more desperate.

Your mouth falls agape, moaning loudly every time you ride him, head falls back as the tip hits that spot that makes you see stars, your breasts bounce with every downward thrust, your hardened nipples scrape against his shirt every time.

“Yes, just like that baby” he groans as his head hits the chair, while he grips your ass and starts lifting you higher so he can move deeper. 

You are desperate now, the need for release overriding everything.

The friction against your clit is intense, a searing heat that builds with every slide.

You lean forward, your hair falling over your face, your mouth finding his again.

The kiss is sloppy, desperate, the sound of your tongues clashing mixing with the wet slaps of your bodies. 

Tentatively, Heeseung also starts moving his hips up, thrusting upward slowly, testing the waters to see how it would be.

And fuck it, it was so so so good.

“Ahh” you moan as the tip of his cock hits deeper in your pussy, as your walls clench around him in pleasure.

You scream into his mouth, it is so intense, your pussy takes him all the way on to his shaft.

You keep riding him until you feel that low tingling feeling in your lower stomach.

You are about to come, you needed it any minute now.

You are moving faster, breath uneven, shamelessly moaning so loudly, you are sure your neighbours could hear it but you couldn't care less.

“Ngh heee” you wail, you dont know if its pain or pleasure or all together but it was good and stretching you apart and finally you are about to come.

“Hee–hee i-m im coming!!” you choke out, the orgasm is about to come as he moves his hips faster, thrusting harder.

“Yes baby, yes, come for me, come on my cock baby” he says, holding your hips, gripping it so hard, it could leave red marks on it and speeding up the movements, slamming you down onto his cock, taking control.

“Ahh–mm yess, yess im coming!!” you throw your head back, a loud, uncontrolled cry escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Heeseung doesnt stop, he fucks you through it, chasing his orgasm. 

“Hee—” you scream so loudly, it was too much, you are overstimulating, you coat his cok, milking it all the way.

“I-i cant..too much–”

“Yess, you can, you can for me baby” his movements becoming faster, more erratic. He's grunting now, the sounds guttural and raw.

He lifts you slightly and then slams you down, the leather of the chair creaking loudly under the strain.

The sound of your pussy engulfing him is a wet, rhythmic squelch, the air being pushed out of your orifice in small, needy puffs. 

“Im-im coming baby” he moves faster again and again.

“Im gonna fill you up, you’re gonna take me like a good girl and fill you up right?” he says as he looks at you and captures your lips into kiss again.

You feel him tense, his entire body turning to stone beneath you.

With one final, deep thrust that feels like it reaches your very soul, he lets out a loud, guttural roar, his entire body tensing.

He gives one final, massive thrust, burying himself as deep as possible as you feel the hot, pulsing jets of his cum hitting your cervix, filling you up, the liquid warmth spreading through your internals.

“Fuck–take it baby” 

You moan as he fills you up, while he grunts and finally comes undone inside you which felt so so so good.

As the intensity fades, he doesn't move.

He keeps you pressed against him, his heart hammering against your ribs.

You can feel his cock slowly softening inside you, though he remains deep within. A small amount of semen and lubricant leaks from the junction of your bodies, dripping onto the black leather of the chair with a soft patter. 

“That was–soo good” you whisper to him.

He smiles, that goddamn smile that melts you right away, probably even your bones.

He pushes a wet hair stand behind your hair as he finally speaks.

“Very good. Are you happy?” he asks and that genuinely made you feel happy that he was asking your opinion. 

You nod, you look wrecked so did he, both of you breathing heavily, faces flushed.

“Are you ok?” he asks you sweetly after showing his dark side which you loved and so did you like that gentleness in his which made your heart filp and beat faster.

You blush as you nod and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Dont hide baby” he pulls you back cupping your face. 

“Mm” you whine sweetly.

He kisses your forehead gently.

"So," he says, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. "I think I lost that match."

You let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"Worth it?"

"The best loss of my life," he whispers, kissing your temple. 

Heeseug twitches inside you, making you whimper.

“You’re still inside me hee” you say to him as it hurts a little but don't bother but it's still sticky and messy altogether. 

But then he shrugs it off as if it's nothing, you frown and ask him “what?” and try to pull away.

He doesn't let you, he slams you back down as you scream and squeal from shock.

“Hee–” then while you are still inside him, he abruptly stands up, while still holding you tightly around your waist and still inside you.

“Ready for round 2 baby?” he asks as you widen your eyes in shock while his cock gets stiff all the way till his shaft again.

“Hee~” he crashes his lips on to yours slamming you onto the wall and starts moving inside you.

˚ ༘ 🎞️ ｡𖦹 ° 🎥 ⁀જ⁀➴ film ending.......

taglist- @prettygirlthings-world @strawberrywonnie @heeqluv @isagistar @hoonieslove

tqsm for being in my taglist anyone wanna be in perm and it would be good if you like and reblog

[hoonguin]

homesick‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ✿‎ ‎ ⁠. ۫ ·‎ ‎ 이희승

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎written for the heart’s mailroom event ! ༊

✷ lee heeseung is in need of his stupidly hot girlfriend, a.k.a. you. after seven agonizing days of distance, unanswered yearning, and an alarming amount of time spent staring at your photos, he's hanging onto his sanity by a thread. unfortunately for him, you finally come home looking even better than he remembered !

pairings ⸝⸝ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎loser!boyfriend!heeseung ✿ f!rea ‎ ‎ ✉️‎ ‎ ‎ wc ⸝⸝ 7.0k

🗯️ 内容‎ ‎ ‎  ‎ explicit sexual content ♫ 18+ ⸝⸝ intended for mature audiences | minors do not interact ᯓ established relationship, clingy!heeseung, needy!heeseung, mutual pining, masturbation is implied for both parties, dacryphilia, overstimulation, degradation kink, edging, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie !

EL’S ✷ BUBBLE : goodness gracious hi again everybody . . . again i spent like 3-4 days going back and forth with this and brah sorry i just kept laughing my ass off because from start to finish this is literally just smut so eeeerm whatever this is just 7k words of absolute bullshit ! request can be found here, thank u! ( •̀ ω •́ )

The worst part wasn't the distance. It wasn't the timezone difference or the spotty hotel Wi-Fi or the way your voice cracked over FaceTime at 2 AM his time when you thought he was already asleep but he never was. 

The worst part was the photos.

You knew exactly what you were doing. 

You had to. 

There was no universe where you posted that bikini photo, the one where the teal fabric clung to your tits like it was painted on, water droplets rolling down your collarbone, sun making your skin glow like something divine, and didn't know what it would do to him. 

Heeseung had been the first person to like it. Three seconds after it went up. He reshared it to his story with a black heart emoji and nobody understood why. His friends thought it was sweet. His followers assumed it was a casual boyfriend thing. But they didn't know that his hand was already down his sweatpants when he did it, that his cock was achingly hard and leaking against his palm, that the black heart was a coded message: I'm losing my fucking mind.

Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. He counted. He wasn't proud of it.

The first two days were manageable. 

You sent him good morning texts with selfies, soft, sleepy, your hair messy and pillow creases on your cheek, and he could handle that. He'd smile at his phone like an idiot, type something disgusting like "you're so cute," and go about his day. But by day three, the photos started arriving. Not the public ones, those were a different kind of torture that he'd scroll through obsessively, zooming in on the curve of your waist, the glimpse of your thighs, the way your lips wrapped around that cocktail straw. 

No, the private ones were what broke him.

The first was innocent enough. You were changing after the beach, and you sent a mirror selfie from the hotel bathroom — your damp hair, a white shirt that was slightly see-through from the moisture, clinging to the shape of your breasts, nipples pressing faintly against the fabric, and a pair of black panties underneath. That was it. Just that. You added a caption: "oops, forgot u were on read 🫩" and he stopped breathing for a full five seconds.

He screenshotted it. He hated himself for it. He screenshotted it and then he stared at it for twenty minutes, thumb hovering over the call button, cock throbbing in his jeans, and he didn't call because he knew if he heard your voice right then he'd say something pathetic. Something like “please come home” or “I need you so bad it's making me sick” or “I've been hard for three hours and I can't make it stop.”

So he jerked off instead. Right there on the couch, phone in one hand, cock in the other, scrolling through your story, pausing on every frame where your body was visible. 

He came embarrassingly fast, under two minutes, with a broken sound that was half moan, half whine, hips bucking up into his fist, and when it was over he felt worse. Not better. Worse. Because his hand wasn't your hand, wasn't your mouth, wasn't your body, and his own orgasm felt like a consolation prize compared to what he actually wanted.

He cleaned up and stared at the ceiling and missed you so much it felt like a physical wound.

Day four was when you sent the photo. He'd later think of it that way, with reverential dread, the way people talk about natural disasters that ruin their lives.

It was a full body shot. You were wearing his black shorts, the ones that were baggy on you, the ones you'd stolen from his drawer before you left, the ones that had to be pinned at the back with a safety pin because they wouldn't stay up. They were slung low on your hips, and he could see the edge of your panties sticking out from underneath, pale pink, a thin strip of lace, the kind you wore when you wanted to feel pretty and not when you wanted to be practical. 

Above the waistband, your bare stomach, your navel, and then just a bra, black, simple, pushing your breasts up in a way that made his mouth water. And your hand. Your hand was on your breast, fingers splayed, cupping it through the fabric, and you were looking at the camera with this expression that knowing. It was cruel. You knew what this would do to him. You were doing it on purpose.

His favorite. His absolute favorite. He saved it, he screenshotted it, he sent it to his hidden album, and then he put his phone down and pressed his palms against his eyes and breathed through the wave of arousal that hit him so hard it made his vision blur.

you're wearing my shorts 🤨

That's what he texted you. That's all he could manage.

yeahhh 😿 they smell like u & imy already 🙁 i sleep in them every night, you sent back. 

He threw his phone across the couch.

Then he picked it back up, because of course he did.

Day five, you sent nudes. Not even strategically angled ones, real ones, the kind that left nothing to imagination. You were changing, you said, and you just had to show him. Your breasts, bare, your nipples peaked from the air conditioning, one arm stretched out holding the phone, the other covering just enough to be teasing but not enough to hide anything. A second photo: your back, arched, looking over your shoulder, the curve of your ass in those white panties, the dip of your spine, and he could see the strap marks from your bikini, tan lines that made him want to trace them with his tongue.

He sent a voicemail back. He couldn't type. He couldn't form words. So he hit record, and the sound that came out of him was filthy. He was jerking himself off, fast and wet, and he didn't even try to be quiet about it. 

He let you hear everything: the slick sound of his fist, the desperate little "hah, hah" of his breathing, the whine that built in his throat, the way he said your name like a prayer and a curse at the same time. "Fuck, baby, I—I need you so bad, I can't—"and then he came, mid-sentence, with a broken moan that cracked at the end, and the voicemail ended with him panting, shaky, barely audible: "Please come home."

You sent back a voice note of your own. Just your voice, breathy and amused: "Aww. Poor baby." And then, softer, almost tender: "Four more days. You can last four more days, right?"

He couldn't. He really, truly couldn't.

Day six, the sexting happened. It started with a check-in, him asking if you'd eaten, if you were staying hydrated, if you were wearing sunscreen, and somehow, inevitably, it derailed. You told him you'd been thinking about him on the beach. About how the water felt, cold and slippery against your skin, and how you wished it was his hands instead. How you'd touched yourself in the shower that morning and imagined it was him, imagined him pressing you against the tile, imagined his mouth on your neck, his fingers inside you.

He was hard before you finished the second message.

"I want to eat you out so bad," he typed, not even caring how desperate he sounded. "I want to put my mouth on you and not stop until you're crying."

"You want to make me cry?"

"I want to make you feel so good you can't help it. I want to taste you. I want—I want—" He couldn't finish. He was too busy coming again, cock pulsing in his grip, spurting over his knuckles, and he hadn't even been looking at anything. Just the words on his screen. Just the thought of you. He came from reading a text message. 

Heeseung, twenty-five years old, who prided himself on at least a little stamina, came from words on a screen like a fucking teenager, and he groaned through it, jaw clenched, and thought: I am so, so fucked.

Day seven, the last day, he didn't even touch himself. He just lay in bed and stared at your photos and throbbed. His cock was so hard it ached, flushed and angry and leaking, and he didn't wrap his hand around it because he knew it would be over in seconds and he'd feel even emptier afterward. He just let himself suffer. He let the want build until it was a living thing in his chest, a hollow hunger that no amount of his own touch could fill.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you'd be home.

He didn't sleep.

You walked through the door at exactly 4:47 PM, and Heeseung was already standing in the hallway like he'd been waiting there for hours, which he had been, since you'd texted him your flight landed, since you'd texted him you were in the cab, since you'd texted him you were five minutes away. 

He was wearing his grey sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt and his hair was messy and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week, and the look on his face when he saw you—

It was hunger. Pure, unfiltered, desperate hunger.

And you looked so fucking good. That was the thing. You knew you did. You'd changed at the airport, into the tiniest denim shorts you owned, the ones that barely covered the bottom curve of your ass, the ones that rode up when you walked. A white tank top, thin enough that the outline of your bikini top was visible underneath, thin enough that if you took that off there would be nothing between your nipples and the fabric but air. Your skin was tanned and glowing and you smelled like coconut and sunlight and he was on you before you even set your suitcase down.

"I missed you," he breathed against your mouth, and then he was kissing you, hands everywhere, your waist, your hips, sliding down to grip your ass through those ridiculous shorts, and he was already hard. You could feel him against your thigh, thick and hot, and he was pressing into you like he couldn't help it, like his body was moving on autopilot, chasing contact.

"I missed you too, baby," you murmured against his lips, and you felt him shiver at the endearment. Your hands came up to card through his hair, and you tugged, just a gentle pull, just enough to tilt his head back, and his breath caught audibly. A small, broken sound that went straight between your legs.

Heeseung, your boyfriend, your pathetic, beautiful, desperate boy, was already trembling.

"Let me—can I—" He couldn't finish a sentence. His hands were shaking where they gripped your waist. He was looking at you with those big, dark eyes, pupils blown so wide the brown was barely visible, and there was a flush creeping up his neck, staining his cheeks pink. "Please. I need—it's been a week and I can't—"

"Can't what?" you asked, and your voice was low and teasing, a dangerous lilt that made his cock twitch. You knew exactly what he couldn't do. You wanted to hear him say it.

"I can't think about anything except you," he said, and his voice cracked on the word you, cracked like he was about to cry, and god, that did something to you. "I've been—I've been so hard, all week, and my hand isn't enough, and I keep coming but it doesn't help, and I—"

"Shh," you said, and you pressed your thumb to his lower lip, and his mouth fell open instantly, pliant and willing, and his tongue darted out to wet the pad of your thumb and you felt a pulse of heat between your thighs. "I'm here now. I'm going to take care of you, okay?"

He nodded frantically, your thumb still on his lips, and he looked so pretty like this — desperate and flushed and hanging on your every word.

You pulled his hair again, harder this time, and he moaned. Actually moaned, loud and shameless, head tipping back to expose the long line of his throat, and you took the opportunity to bite his neck, not gently, not a love bite, a real bite, teeth sinking into the muscle, and he bucked against you with a sound that was dangerously close to a whimper.

"Bedroom," you said. 

Heeseung was on the bed before you finished the word, sitting on the edge, looking up at you with those wide, eager eyes, and you stood between his spread legs and looked down at him and felt powerful. You felt powerful alright. This boy, this beautiful, needy, pathetic boy, was literally shaking with want for you, and you'd barely touched him.

You reached down and took off your tank top, slow, dragging it up your body, and his eyes tracked the movement like he was hypnotized. Underneath was the bikini top, teal, the same one from the photo, the one he'd jerked off to four times. Your breasts were spilling out of it, the fabric barely containing them, and he made a sound — not a word, just a noise, like all the air had been punched out of him.

"You like this one?" you asked, running a finger along the edge of the fabric, pushing your breast up slightly. "You seemed to. You watched the story it was in about forty times."

"I—" His voice was raw. "I lost count."

"Take off your shirt."

He ripped it off so fast the seams made a sound, and his chest was heaving, skin flushed pink from his collarbones to his stomach, and you could see the tent in his sweatpants, could see the dark spot of precum soaking through the grey fabric. He was leaking. Just from this. Just from you standing in front of him in a bikini top.

"You're already making a mess," you observed, and you reached down and ran a single finger along the length of his cock through his pants, feather-light, and he jerked like he'd been electrocuted. His hips chased your hand the moment you pulled away, thrusting up into empty air, and he let out a whine that was so pitiful, so utterly desperate, that you felt your own arousal pulse, hot and slick, between your legs.

"Please touch me," he begged. "Please, I need—"

"In a minute." You unbuttoned your shorts and shimmied them down your legs, and underneath were the black panties. The ones from the mirror photo. The see-through ones. And he was staring at them like he was having a religious experience, mouth open, breath ragged, and you could see his cock twitch in his pants, could see another pulse of precum darken the fabric.

"Remember these?" You turned around slowly, letting him see the back, the sheer fabric clinging to the curve of your ass, the lace trim riding up just slightly, and you looked over your shoulder at him and bit your lip. "You came so hard to this picture. I heard the voicemail, baby. You sounded so pathetic. So needy. Were you that desperate for me?"

"Yes," he choked out. "Yes, I was—I am—please—"

You turned back around and stepped closer, close enough that if he leaned forward his face would be inches from your body, and you reached behind yourself and unclasped the bikini top. It fell away, and your breasts were bare, nipples hard from the cool air and from the way he was looking at you, like he was starving and you were the first meal he'd seen in a week.

He lunged forward, mouth open, aiming for your breast, and you grabbed his hair and pulled him back.

"Did I say you could touch?"

The sound he made was devastating. A sob, cut off halfway, and his eyes were wet, actually wet, glassy with unshed tears, and his lower lip was trembling, and he looked so wrecked, so utterly desperate, that for a moment you almost caved. Almost. But you wanted to draw this out. You wanted to make it good.

"Tell me what you want," you said.

"I want—I want to taste you." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I want to put my mouth on you. I want—gosh, I want to eat you out so bad, I've been thinking about it all week, thinking about how you'd sound, how you'd feel on my tongue, and I—"

"Then do it."

He didn't need to be told twice. 

His hands grabbed your hips and he pulled you forward and pressed his face between your legs, mouth against your pussy through the sheer fabric of your panties, and you felt the heat of his breath, the desperate slide of his tongue against the wet material. He was moaning into you, actual moans, vibrating against your clit, and the fabric was getting wetter, your wetness, his saliva, the barrier between his tongue and you becoming translucent with moisture.

"Take them off," you said, breathless, and he hooked his fingers in the waistband and dragged them down so fast the lace scratched against your thighs, and then his mouth was on you, bare, and—

Fuck. 

He was good at this. He'd always been good at this, enthusiastic and sloppy and absolutely relentless, but today, after a week of wanting, a week of desperate late-night phone calls and photos and voicemails, he ate you out like he was dying. His tongue was everywhere, broad strokes through your folds, pointed flicks against your clit, and then he sucked your clit into his mouth and you gasped and your hand flew to his hair and pulled and he whimpered against you, the vibration making your knees buckle.

"Shit, baby—"

He looked up at you from between your thighs, lips swollen and glistening, chin wet, eyes glassy and pleading, and he didn't stop, he kept licking, kept sucking, kept making those small, desperate sounds against your body, and you could feel his hips rutting against the edge of the mattress, grinding against nothing, chasing friction because he was so turned on he couldn't help it.

You pushed him back, and he made a sound of protest, raw and bereft, but you were climbing onto the bed, straddling his face, and then you lowered yourself onto his mouth and he grabbed your thighs and held you there and devoured you. 

His tongue was inside you, then on your clit, then inside again, and he was making sounds like he was the one being eaten out, little muffled whimpers and moans, and you were grinding against his face, chasing the pleasure, and you felt it building, that tight coil in your abdomen, and—

"I'm going—fuck, baby, I’m going to come on your face," you told him, and he doubled his efforts, tongue working your clit in fast, tight circles, and you came with a cry, thighs clamping around his head, body arching, and he kept going, kept licking you through it, kept moaning like your orgasm was his own, and when you finally pulled away, shaking, he was gasping for air and his chin was drenched and he was looking up at you with absolute, total devotion.

"Good boy," you murmured, and he shuddered. Actually shuddered, full-body, and you felt his cock jerk where it pressed against your thigh through his sweatpants. "You made me feel so good. You always do."

"Please," he whispered, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Just one, sliding from the corner of his eye, and he didn't seem to notice it. "Please, I need—I need to be inside you, I need—"

"Not yet." You climbed off his face and positioned yourself beside him, and you reached down and palmed his cock through his sweatpants, and he arched off the bed with a strangled cry. The fabric was soaked. Not just damp, soaked, a huge dark patch of precum, and you could feel how hard he was, how thick and hot and desperate, and you squeezed gently and his entire body seized.

"You're so wet," you said, rubbing your palm over the head through the fabric, spreading the moisture, and he was twitching uncontrollably, hips jerking up into your hand. "You've been leaking all day, haven't you? Just thinking about me coming home?"

"All week," he corrected, voice breaking. "All week, I've been—"

"Take this off."

He shoved his sweatpants down, kicked them off, and his cock sprang free, flushed dark, the head an angry red, slick with precum that was dripping down the shaft in a steady stream. He was so hard, veins prominent, twitching in the open air, and you wrapped your hand around the base and his whole body spasmed.

"Ah—fuck, fuck—"

You stroked him once, slow, from base to tip, spreading his precum, and his head fell back against the pillows and his mouth fell open and the sound that came out of him was barely human. You stroked him again, and he was already close, you could tell, his thighs trembling, stomach clenching, and you tightened your grip just slightly and twisted on the upstroke and he screamed.

Not a moan. A scream. Raw and desperate and overwhelmed, and his hips were bucking up into your fist, chasing the sensation, and you could feel him throbbing in your hand, getting close, getting—

You let go.

He sobbed. Actually sobbed, chest heaving, cock bobbing in the air, flushed and leaking and so close to the edge that a single touch would have sent him over, and tears were streaming down his face now, not just one but two wet tracks down his cheeks, and he was looking at you with the most destroyed expression you'd ever seen on another human being.

"Why—" his voice cracked, shattered, "why did you stop—"

"Because I want to do something else first." You shifted, repositioned, and you wrapped your hand around him again and leaned down and took the head of his cock into your mouth.

The sound he made was not a word. It was not a moan. It was something between a gasp and a wail, and his hands flew to your hair, not pushing, just holding, fingers tangling in the strands, and his whole body was trembling like a live wire. 

You swirled your tongue around the tip, tasting him, and then you sank down, taking him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, and he was falling apart above you.

"Oh god, oh god, oh—your mouth, your mouth feels so—I'm going to—I'm going to come, I can't—"

You pulled off with a slick pop and squeezed the base of his cock, hard, and he yelled, and the orgasm that had been building was throttled, stopped just short of the peak, and he was crying openly now, tears running freely, lower lip caught between his teeth, and the sounds coming out of him were sobs and whimpers and fragmented syllables that might have been your name.

"Please let me come," he begged, and his voice was so raw, so ruined, that you felt a rush of wetness between your own thighs. "Please, I can't—it hurts, I need to come so bad, please—"

"I know, baby," you murmured, and you stroked his hair back from his forehead, gentle now, tender, and he leaned into your touch like a touch-starved animal. "I know it hurts. You've been so good for me. So patient and all. Let me make you feel better."

You reached between your legs with your free hand, you were soaking, absolutely drenched, your fingers sliding through your folds with no resistance, and you touched yourself while you stroked him, and the dual sensation made you both groan. You rubbed your clit in slow circles while you jerked him off, and you were so turned on from watching him fall apart, from the power of having this beautiful, desperate boy at your mercy, that you were already close to another orgasm.

"You want to know a secret?" you asked, voice low and sultry, and he blinked up at you through tear-blurred eyes. "I touched myself thinking about you too. On the trip. In the hotel room. I'd look at the photos you sent—your voice notes, those sounds you made—and I'd fuck myself with my fingers and pretend it was you."

He twitched violently in your hand, and a fresh wave of precum spilled over your fingers.

"I'd come so hard, baby," you continued, squeezing him, stroking faster, your other hand working your own clit in matching rhythm. "But it wasn't enough. My fingers aren't your cock. My fingers aren't you. I needed you just as bad as you needed me."

"I needed you more," he gasped, and it was so pathetic, so utterly heartfelt, that you felt your orgasm crash into you without warning, your body seizing, cunt clenching around nothing, and you moaned loud and long, and the sound of your pleasure pushed him right to the edge again and this time you didn't stop.

You felt the moment he broke. 

His cock pulsed once, twice, and then he was coming, thick ropes of cum spurting over your hand, over his stomach, and he was crying out, sounds, raw and broken and overwhelmed, and his whole body was arching off the bed, and the tears were flowing freely now, mixing with the sweat on his face, and you kept stroking him through it, kept your hand moving, and he kept coming, more than you'd ever seen from him, spurt after spurt, and you realized he was still hard. Still hard and still coming and his body didn't know when to stop because it had been wound so tight for so long that the release was overflowing.

"Stop, stop, it's too much—" he sobbed, and you let go, and he lay there, wrecked, chest heaving, cum splattered across his stomach and your hand, tears on his face, and his cock was still hard, still flushed and twitching, and you knew one orgasm wasn't going to be enough. Not after a week. Not after all that buildup.

"That's one," you said, and you brought your cum-covered hand to your lips and licked a stripe up your palm, tasting him, and his eyes went impossibly wide and his spent cock actually jerked back to full attention. "You've got more in you, don't you?"

He nodded, wordless, still crying, and you thought he'd never looked more beautiful.

You stripped off your panties, the last remaining piece of clothing on your body, and you straddled his waist, and you felt his cum between your bodies, slick and warm against your stomach, and you didn't care. You wanted to be messy. You wanted this to be filthy. You wanted him to remember what it felt like when you finally, finally gave him what he'd been begging for.

"I'm going to ride you now," you told him, and you saw the hope bloom in his eyes, the desperate, grateful hope, and you leaned down and kissed him, properly kissed him, tongue in his mouth, tasting yourself on his lips from when he'd gone down on you, and he kissed back frantically, hands coming up to cup your face, and he was making small sounds into your mouth, little whimpers and sighs, and you could feel his cock pressing against your ass, hot and hard and still leaking.

You reached behind you and positioned him at your entrance, and you sank down, just the tip, just the head, and you both groaned. He was big, you'd forgotten, in a week, just how big, how the stretch of him made your walls flutter and clench, and he was so sensitive from his first orgasm that the mere sensation of your heat around the head of his cock had him whimpering, hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise.

"More," he gasped. "Please, more—"

You sank down, slow, torturous, and you watched his face as you did, the way his eyes rolled back, the way his jaw dropped, the way his breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. When you bottomed out, when he was fully inside you, you paused, and you felt him throbbing, felt every twitch and pulse, and you clenched around him deliberately and he sobbed.

"Don't—please—if you do that, fuck—I'll—"

"You'll what? Come again?" You clenched harder, and he cried out, hands scrabbling at your hips. "That's the point, baby. I want you to come inside me. I want to feel it. I've been thinking about this all week—your cock inside me, filling me up, making me yours again."

More tears fell, and you realized he wasn't crying from sadness or from pain. He was crying from feeling. From the overwhelming intensity of finally, finally having you, finally being inside you, after a week of his own inadequate hand and your cruel, beautiful photos. He was crying because it felt too good to process. "I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm—"

You started to move. Slow at first, a grinding roll of your hips that pressed his cock against your front wall, against that spot that made your vision blur, and you braced your hands on his chest and rolled your hips and watched him fall apart beneath you. He was gone. Completely gone. His head was thrown back, throat exposed, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed convulsively, and his hands were on your hips, holding on. Holding on like you were the only solid thing in a world that was spinning too fast.

"Faster," he begged. "Please, faster, harder—"

You obeyed. You lifted your hips and slammed back down, and the sound that rang out was so obscene that he yelled, and you did it again, and again, setting a brutal pace, riding him hard, and the angle was perfect, the pressure on your clit from the base of his dick, the stretch of him inside you, and you were already close again, already feeling that coil tightening.

"Touch me," you commanded, and his hands flew to your breasts, squeezing, thumbs rolling over your nipples, and you moaned and threw your head back and bounced on his cock harder, and he was meeting your thrusts now, hips snapping up to meet you, and the wet slap of your bodies was the filthiest, most beautiful sound in the world.

"You feel so good," he gasped, voice raw and destroyed. "You feel so fucking good, I can't—I'm not going to last—"

"Then don't." You leaned down and bit his earlobe, then whispered against the shell of his ear: "Come inside me. Fill me up. I want to feel it dripping out of me for the rest of the night."

He shattered. His back arched off the bed, his fingers dug bruises into your hips, and he came with a sound that was closer to a scream than a moan, long, drawn-out, broken in the middle by a sob, and you felt it, felt the pulse of his cock inside you, felt the heat of his cum flooding you, and it pushed you over the edge too, your orgasm ripping through you, cunt clenching and fluttering around him, milking every last drop, and you collapsed against his chest and both of you were shaking, trembling, crying — the hell, when had you started crying?

You didn't know, but your bodies were tangled together and it was too much, everything was too much, in the best possible way.

You lay there for a long moment, catching your breath, his cock softening inside you, and you felt the trickle of his cum leaking out around the seal of your bodies, and he was still sniffling, still trembling, and you pressed kisses to his jaw, his cheek, his tear-streaked face, and he turned into your touch like a flower toward the sun.

But this was the thing about Heeseung, you shifted your hips slightly, and you felt it. Still half-hard. Twitching. Recovering. And you knew, with a rush of heat between your legs, that he wasn't done.

Neither were you.

"Baby," you murmured against his ear, and you felt him shiver. "You still want more?"

"I always want more," he whispered, and his voice was wrecked, hoarse from crying and moaning, and the honesty in it made your cunt clench around his half-hard cock and he hissed. "I always want you. It’ll never be enough."

"You’re too greedy, no? How can someone be that greedy," you teased, and you bit your lip and looked down at him through your lashes, and his eyes darkened.

"Only for you."

You lifted your hips and let him slip out. You saw the mess, his cum and yours, smeared across his stomach and yours, and you reached down and ran your fingers through it, and you brought them to his lips, and he opened his mouth without hesitation, sucking your fingers clean, tongue swirling around the digits, and his cock, which had been softening, jerked back to full hardness.

"Dirty boy," you murmured, and he flushed darker, and you saw the conflict on his face, shame and arousal warring behind his eyes, and arousal won, as it always did with him. "You like being dirty for me, don't you?"

"I like being anything for you," he said, and it was the most sincere thing anyone had ever said to you.

You turned around. You positioned yourself on your hands and knees, and you looked over your shoulder at him, and you stuck your tongue out, just a little, just a tease, the way you knew drove him insane, and you wiggled your hips and said: "Then come prove it."

He was behind you in a second. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you open, and you felt his gaze on you, on your pussy, still dripping with his cum, still puffy and flushed from your orgasms, and he groaned, low and hungry, and you felt his cock press against your entrance.

"Wait," you said, and he froze instantly, ever obedient, ever desperate to please. "I want you to eat me out first. Again. I want your tongue inside me again. Then you can fuck me."

He didn't hesitate. His face was between your legs again, tongue sliding through your folds, tasting both of you and he moaned against you like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. His tongue pushed inside you, fucking you with it, and you could feel his cum dripping onto his tongue, and he was swallowing it, swallowing everything, and the obscenity of it had you pushing back against his face, grinding, chasing more.

"Such a good boy," you gasped, and he whimpered into you, and you felt fresh tears, his tears this time, wetting the inside of your thighs as they fell, and the vulnerability of it, the raw submission, had you hurtling toward another orgasm. "My good boy. Only mine. Nobody else gets to see you like this, nobody else gets to have you—"

"Only you," he confirmed against your body, the words muffled by your pussy, vibrating against your clit. "Only you, only you, only—"

You came on his tongue, again, thighs shaking, and he held you up and licked you through it and when you finally pulled away you were boneless and trembling and he was looking at you with those red-rimmed, tear-stained, absolutely wrecked eyes, cock jutting out from his body, hard as steel, and you felt a rush of tenderness so fierce it almost hurt.

"Come here," you said softly, and you turned onto your back and opened your arms, and he crawled up your body and kissed you, and you tasted yourself and him on his tongue, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him into you in one fluid motion.

He sank to the hilt and you both gasped, and this time it was slower, not the frantic, desperate pace of before, but something deeper. He was moving in long, grinding strokes, hitting every sensitive spot inside you, and his forehead was pressed against yours, and you could see his eyes up close, overflowing with feeling, and you cupped his face and brushed the tears away with your thumbs and he turned his head to kiss your palm.

"I love you," he whispered, and his voice broke on love, broke open like he couldn't contain it, and you pulled his hair and he moaned and you bit your lip and he watched your mouth like it was the center of the universe.

"I love you more," you said, and then you tightened your legs around his waist and rolled your hips and he made a sound that was half sob, half moan, and you swallowed it with a kiss.

He fucked you slower but deeper, each thrust deliberate, purposeful, hitting that spot that made your breath catch, and you could feel another orgasm building, your fourth, his third, and this one felt different, bigger, like something immense was gathering at the base of your spine, and you broke the kiss and gasped against his mouth.

"I'm close," you warned, and he nodded, and his pace increased, hips snapping faster, and he was hitting so deep, so perfect, and you were clenching around him, and he was groaning with every thrust, and—

"I'm—I can't—" He was crying again, silent tears streaming, and his face was scrunched up in an expression that was almost pain, almost pleasure, something in between that was too intense to name. "I'm going to—again—"

"Do it," you commanded. "Come with me. Now."

You clenched around him and his mouth fell open in a silent scream, and you felt him pulse inside you, felt the heat of his cum, and that triggered your own orgasm, this one different, deeper, your whole body shaking, cunt clenching rhythmically around him, and you were both crying, both gasping, both clinging to each other like you were the only two people in the world, and he was still thrusting through it, shallow and twitching, and you could feel the overstimulation making him shake, making his breath come in hitches and hiccups, and he collapsed against you, full body weight pressing you into the mattress, and you held him and he sobbed against your neck.

"I'm sorry," he wept, and you could feel his tears hot against your skin. "I can't stop crying, I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," you said, and your own voice was thick, wavering. "Don't you dare apologize. That was—you were perfect. You're always perfect."

He lifted his head and looked at you, face blotchy and wet and so, so beautiful, and you kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and he smiled, and you felt your heart crack open in your chest.

"You're mine," you told him, and it wasn't a question.

"Yours," he agreed, and he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in, and you felt his cock twitch one last time inside you, and you both laughed, the sound of it echoing off the walls of your shared apartment, your home, the place where you belonged, together, tangled up in each other and the mess you'd made.

Later, much later, after showers and water bottles and the kind of gentle, exploratory touching that was less about arousal and more about reassurance, you lay tangled in bed together, your head on his chest, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your shoulder.

"I have a confession," he said quietly.

"More confessions? After all that?"

"I screenshot every photo you sent. Even the ones from your public story. I have a whole album."

You laughed, bright and surprised. "I know. I can see your screenshots."

He groaned, covering his face with his free hand. "Fuck, that's so embarrassing."

"That's so hot," you corrected, and you bit his chest playfully, and he squirmed. "I love that you were that desperate for me. I love that I had you on a chokehold."

"You always have me on a chokehold," he muttered, and there was no heat in it, just fact. Just the simple, unvarnished truth. "You could wear a garbage bag and I'd still be hard for you in three seconds."

"Ew, that's so… disgusting and romantic and I'm going to think about it every time I miss you."

"Don't go anywhere for a while," he said, and his voice was small, and when you looked up at him his eyes were earnest and vulnerable and still slightly red from crying. "Please."

You reached up and stroked his hair, and he melted into the touch, and you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"I'm not going anywhere," you promised. "I just got back to you."

He pulled you closer, tighter, like he could fold you into himself and keep you there permanently, and you let him. You let him cling and you clung back, because the truth, the truth that neither of you said out loud but both of you knew, was that the desperation went both ways. You'd sent those photos on purpose, sure, but not just to tease. You'd sent them because you needed him to want you. You needed to feel wanted from five hundred miles away. You needed proof that the ache was mutual.

And it was. God, it was.

"I'm already hard again," he mumbled against your hair, and you felt the evidence pressing against your thigh, and you laughed again, incredulous, fond, so deeply in love it made your chest hurt.

"What a weirdo," you accused.

"Only for you," he said, and it was the second time he'd said it tonight, and you believed it completely.

You rolled on top of him and pinned his wrists to the pillow and leaned down and whispered against his lips: "Then let's go again."

And his eyes lit up, bright, eager, desperate, yours, and he said:

"Please."

⭐️ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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💿 ࿐ . . i want you around by snoh aalegra

✷ NOTE : thank you all so, so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this little world for a while ♡ all of this is purely a work of fiction & doesn’t reflect reality at all . . likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply cherished and very, very appreciated on here !

[heev4n]

TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!

[ʚɞ] ── TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME!

[ʚɞ] ── rule #1: don't make your professor jealous. [ʚɞ] ── rule #2: tell him what you want. NEVER keep him waiting. [ʚɞ] ── rule #3: you must ALWAYS obey him.

[ʚɞ] ── pairing ʚɞ― englishprof!leeheeseung x fem!reader

[ʚɞ] ── warning ʚɞ― 18+, smut, mdni, possessive!evan, jealous!evan, spanking, sexual content, unprotected p in v, fingering, masturbation, dick sucking, sexual tension, dirty talk, degradation, rough sex, cum eating, creampie!, using a tie as handcuffs!, d kink used!, oral sex!, cockwarming, using a ruler to spank your ass, pussy spanking, obsessive!evan

[ʚɞ] ── word count ʚɞ― 6.7k

[ʚɞ] ── heev4n ʚɞ― hiya angels! wrote a short fic for y'all! I couldn't stop listening to tell me what you want by sasha keable so I decided to make the title! I dedicate this to @vmpiricou ★ love you 🤍

as a professor who seemed to be soft, reassuring and caring. he has never been this aggravated and cold in his life before. 

and everyone in the lecture hall could feel it. seething out of his exterior, yet, his soft spoken voice stayed the same, rich and smooth like a freshly brewed cup of hot coffee. but this time, his tone seemed bitter like the lingering aftertaste. 

the air changed when the powdery sound of chalk dragging along against the chalkboard became aggressive with every word he wrote. it wa echoing through the lecture hall even if the people in the back can hear it 

his gentle bambi eyes turned vixen, scanning the entire hall like he was investigating everyone one by one until he sets his eyes on you: on your phone, giggling on whatever was on the screen. he didn't even need to look around the room to know who you were texting. 

the boy who seemingly held a flirting tone with eyes sparkled with lust. heeseung knew that he was just a guy you were using to make him jealous. but the way you played along looked real. a little too real. he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the chalk in his hand, putting all his anger into it.

he recounts the times where he witnessed the seductive looks, the constant giggling, the lingering touches — the sight before him makes him boil with rage. 

but he always put his professionalism first before breaking his unwavering exterior. so he resumes class like normal. even if he was putting all his rage onto the chalkboard like it personally offended him. 

and you knew that he was seething with rage. you could smell it from a few rows away as he smiled like everything was okay. 

ʚɞ

his breaking point was when you showed up to class in his favourite skirt he always loved seeing you in. it flows softly with every step you took like it was orchestrated with every move you make. and he knows you could feel his gaze on you, the way his fist turns white with rage, suffocating the pencil that he was once playing with, now grasped with pure rage.

his eyes follows your path, eventually settling on the boy who's been hanging around you like a leech ever since last week. for the boy who observed from afar who seemed to have confidence, was now is at a loss of words. heeseung's eyes turned dark as he watches the way the boy's eyes widen at the sight before him, analyzing the way the lustrous gaze turned worse. and here u were, smiling like everything was normal when it was far from it.

your skirt was too short and heeseung can practically see your panties from metres away. lace panties. one thing that he loves seeing you in. 

he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the chalk in his hand, putting all his anger into it. he watches you and the boy sit down beside each other, waiting for when the clock struck the scheduled time.

one thing you knew not to do was to never piss him off.

ʚɞ

now here you were, laid perfectly on his lap with your perfect ass out on display as he spanks your ass with a ruler. 

"mmpfh!" a loud echoing slap booms through the room. you feel a lingering sting on your ass, the sudden contact on your skin made you spiral. you hissed when you felt his hand gently place to where the source of pain was, rubbing soft circles against your pink flushed skin. "are you still counting doll?" his voice was soft yet stern, sending shivers down your spine. "y-yes." you whimpered, the pain was starting to overwhelm your senses. you don't even remember what number you were on due to the overstimulation of him spanking your ass to release his anger. 

he gives you another spank, earning an angelic whimper to escape from your sweet lips and he smirks as he feels you trying to hold yourself together. "what number was that?" you froze, heart dropping in your chest. "i-" your breath hitches, trying to make up an answer but nothing leaves your lips. you immediately hear him kissing his teeth in utter disappointment. "tsk tsk tsk wrong answer." he spanks your ass again. "now we have to restart again sweet girl." 

you yelp, body jerking out of spite. "now what are you sorry for." he smacks again and you whimper. "i'm sorr-" you feel another smack. "what was that? I couldn't hear you baby. speak up." you could feel his amusement and his sly smirk through his tone. "i'm sorry for— mmph! — being a bad girl and —mmfh! — disobeying your orders." he hums, not by satisfaction but the lack of empathy in your words. "is that right…you couldn't wait patiently for me so you decided to start playing around like the dirty little slut you are?" you couldn't answer so instead, you whimpered in response. 

"you loved seeing me jealous. loved watching me go insane while you let him get close to you." he growls, his smacks become more aggressive and frantic. you could feel a pool of wetness dripping along your folds as he spanks your ass once again, leaving you to feel helpless under his control. 

"such a naughty girl……you like pissing me off?" he runs his delicate fingers on the curve of your ass, roaming closer and closer to your wet core. your body jerks at the soft touch of his, tickling over your flushed skin that makes you shiver with excitement. with every stroke, your heart beats faster. you feel your entrance clench at nothing as his fingers were caressing the softness of your skin, leading closer to your sensitive parts. he notices the way your body twitches at the slightest touch that makes him smirk in amusement. he drags his fingers over your wet folds that causes you to jerk violently in his lap.

"oh? you're so soaked baby…all this from just spanking?" he caresses your folds again and as expected, you shiver at the contact. this time, his fingers rubs against your wet folds, stimulating every possible noise he can release from you. "fuck baby, you sound so good…i can't wait to ruin you." your breath shortens at that sentence, only making you wetter than before.

to ruin. to you that meant something that was inescapable, a lesson that you needed to learn. your plan by making your professor jealous worked but at what cost? this was a side of him that you've seen but not to it's full extent. every word felt like a foreshadow of what's coming. and you were scared but also excited.

"are you going to be a good girl for me?" his voice was soft, mixed with possession. "are you going to behave like the obedient slut you are?" he answers like a demand. you couldn't muster up an answer, due to the overwhelming sensation of his fingers massaging every sensitive part of your exposed core. and in a flash, he spanks your ass again, the stinging feeling returning like it was biting you back. "don't make me ask again." he growls, the tone of his turned into a demand, the soft spoken demeanor was no longer. 

"i-i'll behave!" you squeal, feeling his fingers pleasuring your needy core. "good girl. already doing a great job following my instructions." he chuckles out of amusement as he watches you obey so obediently all for him. "tell me, do you deserve my fingers inside of you." he gently draws soft circles on your pussy, your juices coating on his fingers. "y-yes." you let out a breathy moan, sinking your teeth onto the flesh of your bottom lip. 

"you're gonna have to do more than say yes sweetheart. prove to me that you deserve my fingers inside of you." his words sink into your ears like silk, the softness of his tone curls into your ears like a cradle. 

"p-please sir, i need your fingers inside of me. use me like a puppet." you wiggle beneath him, showing how needy you were to be pleased. his lips curve into a slight smile, enjoying the sight of your desperation. he feels the rush of blood aching in your skin. he feels the throb of your aching core, begging him to cure the tortuous feeling pooling deep in your gummy walls. he ponders only for a second, contemplating if you really deserved to be pleased. hearing you whine was music to his ears. 

"tell me you'll be a good girl and maybe i'll give you want." you yelp as the hard wood up against your aching pussy, making your body jerk at the sudden contact. "i'll be a good girl for you s-sir." your voice was soft, almost like a whisper, cracked and squeaky as you try to numb the pain. 

you stir beneath him with a soft breath that escapes your lips, showing how needy you were getting. you feel his fingers glide up your soaked folds, creating a buzz of sensitivity to roam down your spine with every soft, gentle touches that make your body jerk on the spot. you feel a finger pressing into your entrance, making you shudder as he continues to shove deeper into your gummy walls. it pulls a moan out of your mouth as your soft padded walls were automatically clenching onto his finger like you were both connected. "h-hee.." your voice was breathy, cracking as you continue to feel the pressure getting tighter and tighter.

"damnn baby….you're so tight.." he curls his finger, your body shifting in his lap. "you're sucking my finger in so good…think you can take another one?" and without waiting on your answer, you feel him put a second finger in, and a loud squeal escapes from your thorax as your thighs became to tremble as the pressure became too much to handle. 

with two fingers inside of you — you were still tighter than ever. he couldn't exactly flex his fingers in the way he wanted to but every curved movement he makes, it seemed to make a sweet moan leave your lips while your body flinched in response. he digs in deep, pressing into your squishy parts to find the trigger. the button that makes you jolt and fully makes you ruined. 

he begins to move his fingers in a flicking motion as your walls flutter at the same time. your moans become louder as his pace starts to grow frantic. your insides were so warm and toasty, it felt like a hand warmer. "mmph…..fuck.." you bit your lip as you tried to stifle your moans, feeling an overload of pleasure as he moves with in a rapid pace. he doesn't stop. he moves with eagerness but with precision. his pace isn't sloppy but it was fast — in a way that it was controlled. 

the feeling of his fingers were lingering in the deep tunnel of your core, pumping into you deeper and deeper as your body begins to squirm uncontrollably in his lap at the overstimulation. the slick sound of his fingers against your sopping wet cunt was making his urges worst. he feels a tinging sensation flowing through his veins, making his blood rush with adrenaline, and he wanted to the feeling linger so his movements began to strike faster, almost out of instinct. and it only made you wetter and the scene more lewd. 

you were throbbing, flushed and drenched by your juices speaking than words could ever express. a series of broken moans begin to fall out of your mouth, trying to interrupt every sentence you tried to form. you attempt to fight against the stimulation by forming sentences fast but they always end up interrupted by an accidental moan.

"y-you'r-re goi—!" your chest heaves up and down rapidly as you part your lips to create anything that sounded audible. 

"hm? what's that? you're going to have to speak properly princess." he smirks. he fucking smirks. the sight was amusing and the sounds that were escaping felt like music to ears. he feels himself getting more and more aroused with every thrust his fingers make. he was getting hungrier and hungrier for more and his desires kept pulsing out of his skin like they were begging to be let out. to have control over his body. 

you were still struggling to speak, gasping for air that was enough to support you from losing your own breath. you tried to calm your chest from breathing heavily but your body was speaking with a mind of its own, expressing how close you were, approaching to your limit. 

your walls began to clench tighter around his fingers and he notices. "are you getting close?" his soft spoken voice talking through the erotic sounds of your pussy gushing. you nod your head as you feel your stomach twist and everything started to feel more sensitive than before. "are you going to cum princess..?" his fingers don't stop. they break through every barrier of walls sucking his finger in, making him work twice as hard to reach the sensitive parts.

you nod your head violently as your muscles begin to feel taut, your toes curling in your shoes, you swore you were going to create a hole in them. his fingers keep moving, maintaining the pace as you were about to chase your high. his pace was getting faster and faster and the knot in your stomach begins to fold and tighter and tighter as the sensation was building up and getting ready to release—

until. 

"i don't think you deserve to cum princess…you still haven't convinced me you're sorry." your body was trembling, thighs twitching aggressively as you feel him slow down. you whine beneath him, letting out a small cry of pleasure as you shake your hips for more. "ah ah ah behave." he could sense your pouty lips and desperation from the way you continued squirm and brings your hips up to push his fingers even deeper. he gives a few more soft thrusts before it slides out of your pussy, your cunt clenching around nothing now that all you felt was a aftershock of your soon to be orgasm as it lingers. 

his fingers were doused in your juices, the toasty feeling disappearing as the cold air engulfs the warmth. he brings his fingers up to his mouth, giving a small kitten lick that made his stomach churn in excitement. you tasted so sweet, sweeter than anything he's had this past week. the taste has him licking his lips, trying to savour the flavour before it disappeared. he continue to lick every drop he collected, pulling away with a soft pop before he dives back in to get every crevice. 

your body turned limped, your thighs were calming down but the tremors were still presence. they were twitching slightly as your muscles finally relaxed, riding out the remaining stimulation. 

there is a heavy silence between the both of you. all you could hear was the small pops that would occasionally break the barrier. you didn't utter a word but responded with soft breaths. you heard a loud, exaggerated pop before you hear him speak. 

"get up." he leans back against his chair giving you space to leverage yourself. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. you part your lips but you stopped yourself before you could say anything, not wanting to pry further. you rise from his lap, almost falling over as you settled your weight on your feet, your thighs beginning to tremble aggressively. you eased off, now standing in front of him, leaving space between the both of you. the room was silent, surging with tension and his bambi eyes scanned your entire frame like he was envisioning all the possible ways he could punish you. but he really wanted you to feel torn — aching — dazed. 

"strip for me." you freeze. 

"w-wha-"

"you heard me, strip. now." he interrupts and you look at his eyes only to immediately do as you're told. 

and just as you were about to take a step. "you stay there." you watch him unbuckle his pants. the buckle of his pants loosens, the metal creating a sharp sound that made you tremble in anticipation. you feel a stream of goosebumps prickle on your skin with every slight move he makes. the sight before you made you feel small and helpless, the way he held eye contact with your figure with eyes laced with desire, the most inhumane fantasies that swells in his brain. his gaze drifted like he was painting you with his mark, claiming your body without touching. he can feel his urges pressuring him to ruin you and be fucked like the slut you are, but he knew in order for you to learn your lesson, he has take things slow and if it meant edging you till you cried then so be it. 

his hands move without a second thought, slow and precise as he tugs his pants down, revealing a large font that reads "PLAYBOY" with a little bunny placed right beside the large letters along the waistband of his jet black boxers. 

you could see a hardened bulge poking through the fabric like it was begging to escape. you gulp in suspense when he slowly peels off every layer of fabric one by one, agonizingly slow. you stood there, fully exposed as he continued to stare like he was burning holes into your body. you fidget with your fingers, trying to stimulate the rising heat flowing through your skin but as much as you tried to cool yourself down, you felt weak under his lustful gaze. 

he slowly tugs down his boxers, every shift of movement making you shiver with anticipation as his dick twitches with eagerness with the sight of your body enticing him to leave you wanting more. he's seen you naked multiple times before but this exact moment felt different. maybe it's the way you were submitting yourself to him all too submissively like you truly knew where you stood or — it was the fact that he knew that no matter what you did to provoke him — he was always going to win. 

he continues to pull them down, low enough that his cock springs out. the tip leaking with precum, flushed and swollen. you watch his hand wrap around the base, gently stroking as his hand becomes coated with his own juice, softly moaning as he bites his lower lip trying to catch every moan that was threatening to escape. as much as he tried to hold up the strict facade, he was truly desperate to be inside you but he wouldn't fold so easily. 

you feel your stomach flutter as your eyes widen at how flushed his dick looked. you gulped at how big he was. it's been a little while since you've both done anything risky because of busy schedules, overload of assignments and grading, there wasn't a moment where you both could relax. 

especially heeseung. with the semester almost coming to a close, he's been getting endless emails, printing out exams, attending meetings, grading the last remaining assignments while also trying to balance his personal life and you. 

the week has left him stressful to the point where he neglects you sometimes. it's not on purpose but the exhaustion has taken a toll on his body. occasionally, he finds himself spacing out with his eyes feeling heavy, before he catches his consciousness. 

he promises that he always will give you is undivided attention but trying to tackle with tight schedule made him forget the promises he made. 

and you being petty and needy, his ignorance made you feel more clingy and horny. you've already finished all your exams so the entire cohort gets to start their summer break while the professors have to put the grades in at the expected deadline. 

but that little stunt you pulled had only made the situation worse. yet, you got what you wanted at the end of the day either if you've won or thought you did. 

"see this? this could have been inside of you but you decided to behave like a brat." his hands glide up and down his shaft as his eyes were fixed on your own, scanning your perfect features. he finds you chewing on your lip, a little habit you make whenever you're nervous or aroused. he catches your chest stammer, fluttering as he stared at you with hungry eyes, watching your eyelids look towards the ground. "i'm sorry.." your voice, quiet as a whisper. 

"you want this? you want daddy's cock?" you slowly look up to see him stroking faster as he softly moans. "yes.." you softly whisper. you couldn't look him directly in the eye as his gaze was too dangerous, one look and you already felt embarrassed. the petty, confident behaviour soon leaves your body as you accidentally look into his covetous eyes, a pretty sight that makes you daydream but one that is beholding and fearful. 

"my eyes are up here sweetheart." his voice was demanding but not enough to startle you but to tell you how much he controlled the room. "you want to make daddy feel good?" the serious tone that he held disappeared, replacing with one that felt smooth like silk on stone. you nod as you stood there with quivering feet and a desperate ache that needed to be filled. "use your words baby doll. tell me what you want. " 

"i want you to put me in place daddy. use me like your personal fuck toy." his eyes darken while his dick twitches in his hand, urging to feel your touch. you watch his hand slow down, pre-cum glistening over his hands.

"good girl..now come here and get on your knees." you slowly walk towards him, lowering yourself as you look up at him with the position of you in between legs as he leans back in his chair. "suck it and don't try to use any teeth. if i feel you use your teeth. we're ending it here, do you understand?" your eyes widen as his words hiss in your ears. "y-yes daddy." you whimper. 

"good girl, now go on, suck my cock." he leans back against his chair and you stare. the tip of his cock was flushed and full of pre-cum, it was a sight you truly haven't seen in a long time. there was an unbearable silence that filled the room as you wrapped your hands around his cock, you gently stroked the base of his dick, feeling it pulse in your hand. he gasps softly, softly moaning as he tried to calm himself down. he feels shivers go down his spine as your soft hand gliding the structure smoothly.

you gave him a few more strokes until you wrapped your mouth around his swollen tip. he tips his head back, silently cursing at how warm your mouth was. it was so cozy and inviting that his pulse was starting to quicken as you slowly tried to fit him in entirely in your mouth. your eyes start to water the deeper you pushed, tears were glossing over your vision as his size was breaking through every barrier. you stopped halfway, the pressure beginning to clench as you feel your breath starting become unstable. "f-fuck!" he groans, his lips slightly parting to let out small gasps. 

you began to rock your head back and forth, slowly and carefully. the stretch of his dick was hitting the back of the throat, making the tears stream down your face. "your mouth feels so good baby." he looks down at his lap, watching your head flick up and down as he sees your salvia coating every inch, getting wetter and messier. he pants, every motion began to feel tighter and tighter in his stomach. he needed a release. he can feel that you were resisting, to play it safe. but he needed to ruin your mouth. 

he grabs a fist of your hair, pushing your head all the way down. he groans lowly, hissing as his entire length was fully in your mouth now. your eyes widen with shock, with the pressure becoming overstimulating. your hands clenched into fists as you feel your breath shouting for a release. to regain stability. you could hear him curse under his breath like he was praising the softness of your mouth, like he still wasn't used to the feeling. 

his hips jerk up, feeling the tip punch the back of your throat and you moan at the feeling. his hands was keeping your head still as he thrusts his dick in a rhythmic pattern. with every thrust swallowing your breath, wrecking your mouth as you clenched your eyes shut, as he does anything but slow down. the sensation was overbearing your thoughts like it was invading something it shouldn't. "h-holy fuck.." the words leaves his lips like he saw something that broke through his exterior, the sight was bringing him closer to his own limit. he curses at himself for almost reaching his limit sooner than he anticipated, but the pleasure was too addicting for his own good. 

your salvia begins to drip down, thick and slow like honey. his pace becomes more sloppy but still hungry for more. at this point, you felt like you were going to faint with the pace he was going at. it was brutal with the slam of his hips punching deeper and deeper into your throat like it was digging for answers that you couldn't explain. but with every thrust he was jabbing, it felt like your mouth was starting to relearn the shape of his cock that has been untouched for what seemed like ages. and his desires were responding with the answers you were looking for. he was just as desperate as you. to feel full. loved. to fill the hole that was emptied out. 

"i'm getting close baby….i'm gonna cum in your mouth.." his hips stammer, ragged breaths leaving his lips as his cock continues to disappear with every roll of his hips. your moans were broken with every thrust hitting the back of your throat, treating your uvula like a punching bag. "fuckfuckfuck." he quickens his pace at the last second as you squeal at the brutal stimulation, ending off with a thrust that shoots a thick substance into your throat. your cheeks begin to puff as his cream fills every surface of your mouth. 

he slowly pulls his dick outta your mouth, a string of saliva creating a stringy web to form as his dick oozes with leftover cum as it releases from your mouth. your lips were drenched with your own drool and his milky cream smeared all over your plump lips. 

"fuck…" he breathes, taking a deep inhale as his heart was pulsing violently in his chest. "open your mouth for me." you open your mouth, his white substance coating every surface, some threatening to trickle down the corners of your mouth, but he catches it with a soft drag of his finger, placing it back into where it belonged. "so pretty……swallow for me." it trickles down your throat, lingering in your mouth like it wanted you to savour the taste of his own arousal. 

he hums in satisfaction as he catches your throat, watching a lump stream down. "open your mouth." and when you do, he finds not a single drop wasted. he smiles, his eyes softening as he scans your pretty face, he tucks a hair behind your ear, your stomach fluttering at the feeling. "you're so beautiful." you look up at his framed eyes, watching how his eyes sparkle, his pretty gaze never cease to amaze you. it was so innocent like a dream that felt too good. felt too real. it made you forget that there was a dark part of him that was hidden under that gaze. a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

"but i'm not done with you yet baby. you still have to satisfy me." his eyes dart to your lips and then your eyes and you saw something tick in them. like in a flip of a switch, you felt your stomach tighten, not from fear but from excitement. "bend over on the table." he commands, feeling your skin twitch. 

you settled yourself on the table, popping your ass out on display. you could see his shadow engulfing your figure, his warm hands on your hips, adjusting to align himself with your entrance. you hear ruffles of fabric as his shadow moves, he removes his jacket, tossing it to the side while letting it rot on the floor like it had no purpose. you felt his hands drag along your skin, delicately as they roam on your stomach, inching their way towards your breasts as you feel a soft pair of lips pressing against your cold flawless skin, feather light to the touch, leaving a trail of lingering heat as you feel them drag higher and higher along the center of your back. you feel a shiver running through your body with his hot breath ghosting over your skin until he reached your nape, kissing along the structure of your shoulders with his hand kneading your breasts with every kiss. 

you could feel his erection poking at your entrance, making your body jerk as it makes you shift whenever he moves. his lips disconnect from your skin and his hands settle on your hips, pulling you back a bit so he could adjust himself, his cock drags along your soaked folds, flooding your core with his slick. you let out a soft gasp at the swollen hard-on creating friction against you that added onto the heat you were already felt from his own touch. 

"you're so wet angel….all nice and prepped just for me. are you ready to take my cock?" he coos, lining himself at your entrance. your slick coating the tip as it brushes ever so softly like it was prepping itself before it disappeared inside of you. you nod your head as your breath begins to falter, waiting for him to ease himself. 

then you feel him pushing deeper, feeling the warmth of your walls soothing around him. he groans lowly as his nails were digging into the soft fat of your skin as the tightness began to overwhelm his senses. "f-fuck you're so tight….s-shit." he hisses through his teeth, his framed eyes watching every move as clear as day; watching his dick being swallowed by your hole. 

he watches your thighs clenching instinctively as your knees were starting to give out as he pushed deeper until his entire length was inside of you. you let out a squeal as you feel your stomach being stuffed full. the way he was entering you with such ease, you swore you were going to cum. 

your pussy clenched down aggressively as your body was trying to slowly adjust to his overwhelming length. your knees were bucking together as you try to stabilize your trembling legs. you can feel his hips slightly bucking forward as your gummy walls were massaging him and his hands were making imprints on your hips, painting them white from the pressure.he throws his head back, exposing his neck as his adam's apple was forming a noticeable lump as his moans were spilling out with ragged curses. 

"how can you still be so tight.." he lets out a small puff, pulling out of you before slamming back in. you whimper as the slow action felt too much. it was too teasing. it was winding your thoughts as he was setting a pace that made you feel all the staggering shocks as your body was shaking at his size. "you feel so good…" the slow drive of your cock was kissing your cervix, receiving a whimper to escape from your throat. "d-daddy…hnngh…" you backed your ass into him, a desperate whine flees from your mouth as your head was turned to look at him with desperate eyes and pouty eyes. "be patient doll…daddy wants to take his time." he reaches his hand out to remove strands of air out of your face as his other hand kept you locked in place. you wanted to him the cure ache in your stomach, pleasure the parts that needed a little attention. 

he felt a bit bad for teasing you, seeing you desperate and wrecked from just his touch alone. your gummy walls were warming his cock like freshly washed blanket that came out of the dryer, it's warming essence still lingering. "fuck it, you feel too good." his grip became bruising and the slow pace became aggressive. the soft glides became a brutal pounding as the slaps of skin were booming through the office. you let out broken moans and ragged curses as you felt your cervix getting punched by his ruthless thrusts. 

he grunts, your walls were sucking him in as he kept up a rhythmic pace. the way you clench around him was making enter into a daze. it was making his brain all fuzzy as you got tighter and tighter to the point where you squeezing every drop out of him like you were begging for his milk to paint your insides. "f-fuck daddy..hhngh.." you whine as your body rocks back and forth on his dick while your vision was turning all sparkly and hazy. "you're doing so good baby." he says in between thrusts, his breaths turning into pants. 

he snakes one of his hands around your neck, pulling you up near his lips. you feel his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear. "who do you belong to?" he growls into your ears, his grip becoming firmer. "i belong to you." you whisper, letting out short pants as his cock was still driving into you. "i don't ever want to see you close with him again. understand?" his tone was dark, full of control. you didn't answer right away and the grip became possessive. "understand?" he repeats. 

"y-yes s-sir." you softly whisper. 

"good." and with swift moments, he pushes your head down with some force, your head facing against the wooden surface, the cold panels sticking onto your skin from your arousal. his hand remained around your neck while the other was angling you. you felt full, stuffed and overwhelmed. he was fucking you so good that you didn't realize that his grip became looser and his pace became agonizingly gentle. he pulls out of you and you whine at the absence of his dick, clenching around nothing as your body ached for his touch. 

he shoves all the stationary and his graded papers on the floor, objects clashing together as they rested on the floor. "get on the table." you plopped on the table, now facing him as he shifted in between your legs, already fiddling with his tie. "lie down." your back makes contact with the cold exterior, the icy cold feeling causing your body jerk due to the difference of temperatures. 

you watched as he rolled up his sleeves before loosening his tie, his skilled, slender fingers unfastening the knots while you stared at his soft hands with admiration while also picturing naughty scenarios. as he undoes, he ties them around your wrists, creating a small knot that was tight enough to restrain any movement but not too much to hurt you. "is it too tight or is it okay." his sweet bambi eyes look at yours with a concern. "it's perfect." you smile as he does the same. 

he grabs your legs that were dangling along the edge of the table and places them on his shoulders. he drifts his hands along the side of your legs, settling them on your hips, tugging you closer before you felt his dick hovering over your clit. he grabs the base and slowly pushes himself inside once again, your slimy walls inviting him with ease. you both gasp as the pressure began to build up, heeseung tilts his head back as your back arched with your hands tied above your hand. 

he began to move, the overwhelming feeling biting back. he hisses, eyes fluttering as his glasses were drifted away from his vision. the tightness was something he never got used to, and maybe it was because he forgot the feeling of ecstasy. what it felt like to be released. and once he felt the pleasure, it was something he couldn't let go. 

the rush of his thrusts were penetrating you that shook your nerves, thumping against your skin as you took him all in. his rhythm was timed and calculated, the type to really delve deep into the spots that were un-cared for. and he groans loud, filthy, his grip creating indents in your skin from his nails, creating crescents onto your soft, smooth complexion. your voice box was crying for help as nothing but broken moans and uneven breaths were slipping passed your lips. the pressure was intense but it was building up inside of you that was sweet and addicting like it was hooking you against him. to stay inside of him to feel the eternal bliss your body craved. "mmph — h-hee!" your teeth instinctively caught your bottom lip as you tried to mute the moans that threaten to escape. 

he was laser-focused on your pussy, angling you so he can nudge his cock to bruise your cervix, to find the trigger that makes you tick and fall into a deep trance. pleading him for more as you both slip into a daze of irresistible pleasure. "fuck you feel so fucking good — you're mine baby…" he thrusts again and again and again, his rhythm keeping up as you clenched even harder. "mine to breed, mine to fuck." his voice turned into a growl, a threat of possessiveness seething through his words. his jealously started to enrage him as he thought about the boy who looked at you in a way that screamed a desire that was tugging at your strings to just feel a touch or a taste of your attention. the thought of someone looking at you just makes his blood boil with rage. so his pace became rougher with every slam of his hips, making you cry out. "tell me baby doll….you're not gonna let him use this pussy are you?" his sweet angelic face turned all pouty with his bambi eyes hypnotizing you with every ounce of control he had over you. "n-no daddy." you shake your head as you continued to take his brutal jabs. 

"good girl…..i'm getting close baby…." he asks as the pleasure made him overly sensitive. you sweet, sultry voice was dripping with a control that was slipping from his grasp. he began sounding desperate and whiny for a release. the sinful sounds of skin against skin was mixing with your moans as he was beginning to chase the high he was longingly craving for. his head was tilted back, his glasses settling on the bridge of his nose that was on the verge of falling, the ways his pace began to speed up when the approach was coiling in his stomach. 

you could feel your body buzzing with electricity as a tingling feeling was twisting in your stomach. your walls began to clench tighter out of instinct as the approach driving you closer to the edge. the pleasure was clouding your thoughts as you can feel your stomach tighten up. 

"fuck daddy i'm gonna cum!" you moaned, your back arching and your muscles tightening under your skin. your body was trembling violently, thighs twitching as you feel your release spilled out, coating his dick with your warm fluid. 

"fuckfuckfuck!" heeseung spilled your insides with his cream, his voice desperate, wrecked and out of breath. his body was trembling as the release took almost everything out of him. he catches his breath, trying to calm down the adrenaline pulsing in his chest. his grip on your hips loosened, an imprint of his own grip marked on your skin, slowly fading away as your skin regained its natural colour. he pulled out of you slowly, both of your releases spilling down your folds. your legs dangle on the edge of the table as he gently places them down. 

your face was flushed and your body was convulsing from the aftershocks of your orgasm. you lay there, cheat heaving, skin sticky and utterly wrecked by the man who was utterly obsessed with you. 

heev4n! ── omg I'm finally done....heheh hope y'all enjoy this one!

[herslhs]

imagining heeseung eating me out like this

[simjakedly]

the summer i got horny - s.jy

main masterlist

summary. nerdy sim jaeyun is sweating buckets when the baddie he's been crushing on sits in his lap on a two-hour road trip.

pairing. nerdy!jake x baddie!female reader

genre(s). oneshot, smut, big porn with a small plot

warnings. MDNI, jake is a professional yearner, jake is very shy and repressed (and a bit insecure), masturbation, pervert!jake, unprotected sex (pls don’t), subby switch!jake, top or bottom he's always a sub, reader is a bit mean, jake cries a lot and begs a lot, slight sunsunki if you squint, handjob, blowjob, nose-riding, jake eats her out as well, reverse cowgirl, cowgirl, missionary, BRO WHY IS IT NEVER-ENDING, but like it's messy, EDGING EDGING EDGINGGGG, reader calls him jaeyun, reader is jealous and possessive, implied aftercare, enhypen ensemble, hmm please let me know if i missed anything! not beta read we die like injang

word count. 14,807 words

note. oh boy! this used to be a veeeery old, 8k-word draft, my take on nerdy jake that i decided to polish and give life to. it is also a gift for my bestie and fellow jake's wife: dr. @twocupsofsuga 🫶🏼 congratulations on passing medschool! you're so smart mhm here's my lap dance for you 😏

Women make Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Especially someone as bold and confident like you.

There's something about the soft lilt of your voice that makes him feel ashamed to even speak in your presence. There's something about your enticing eyes that makes him stutter and stumble with his own words, his grammar-police persona flying out the window. There's something about the sure sway of your hips that makes him want to avert his gaze and look more all the same time; like something sinful he shouldn't want but crave for anyway.

You're the kind of woman that makes Sim Jaeyun nervous.

Park Jongseong's cousin from the States that always comes to visit for summer, with that bold show of your body that'll usually often get frowned upon in his neighbourhood, that honey tint of your skin that's far from the local society's beauty standard. You're upfront and so unapologetically you, something he admires and makes him overly conscious if his hair looks nice or not.

It's another summer and you're here again. You're always a welcome addition to their annual trip to Jay's beach house, a road trip that's usually joined by the other five plus you and him. But this year, Nishimura Riki had a last minute decision to cancel his flight to Japan and opted to spend the summer with them instead of with his family.

Which leaves all of you with no space for one person inside Jay's SUV.

"I call dibs on the rear seats," Heeseung says before anyone gets the chance to and disappears into the car. Riki opens his mouth, about to follow the eldest of the group, when Jungwon shoots him a sharp look and blocks his way with his hand.

"No, Riki. You're not getting a seat."

Riki's face morphs into horror. "What?! Am I excluded from this trip?"

"You cancelled your flight this morning. You were never included in the trip."

Seeing the look of hurt on his face, Sunoo actually takes pity on Riki. Peering inside, the blonde mumbles with a pout when he sees a small ice box sitting beside Heeseung. "Surely we can squeeze him into the rear seat, right…?"

"All of his six-feet-one ass? I'd like to see you try, Sunoo hyung." Jungwon shakes his head. He leans on the passenger door, already the assigned co-pilot of the car, in charge of Spotify playlist and Waze and moral support to his Jay hyung. "Either one of you sits in another's lap, or we can Uber Riki to the beach house."

Hearing that, Riki immediately throws his hands. "It's a two-hour drive, hyung, I might just be paying for the Uber's car loan! It's gonna be so expensive!"

"If you can afford cancelling your flight with no refunds, then I think you can afford an Uber to Sokcho."

Riki whips his head to his Sunoo and Jake hyung, jutting out his lips in a pout that's borderline pitiful. Jake mirrors his expression, not really having the power to go against Jungwon's verdict—as if anybody could. Jake pities him, really, but it's Yang Jungwon. There's a whole menace behind those cute dimples and boba eyes.

Beside him, Sunghoon lets out a long sigh. "Then one of us will have to sit in another's lap."

It's an option that has everybody darting their eyes around, afraid that any eye contact with Jungwon will make them become the sacrificial thighs for the two-hour road trip. They're all men packed with mass and muscles, a result of a gym routine that unexpectedly becomes a problem today. Each of them at least weighs one hundred-forty pounds. Jake's sure that if he was chosen, he'd lose his legs by the time they exit Seoul.

Just in time, a loud thud is heard from the car boot. You and Jay walk into the scene, just having finished loading all of their stuff into the car. Jake adjusts his glasses instinctively, unknowingly fixing his appearence when his eyes land on you.

You've abandoned your cardigan, now only wearing a yellow camisole top that only reaches your belly button and a pair of jeans shorts that ends at the bottom swell of your ass. Your outfit choice hides nothing about your figure—your perfect body that admittedly has always been on his mind.

Jake gulps and lets his eyes trail down to your legs. You're seriously one of the most beautiful and hottest girls he's ever seen, and unfortunately, he has a severe problem of having a crush on baddies who are completely out of his nerdy league. You're definitely one of them.

When he looks up, Jake almost faints when your gaze catches his eyes with an unreadable expression. He quickly averts his eyes, adjusting the thick black rims of his glasses that didn't need adjusting.

Did you notice him staring?

"Car seat problem?" Jay asks when he senses the tension among the boys, already foreseeing this issue the moment Riki told him that he was joining their road trip over the phone this morning. They hesitantly nod.

"So what's the solution?"

"Riki takes an Uber to Sokcho—"

"Which will cost him his tuition fees," Jay comments, ever the hyperbole-user.

"—Or someone has to sit in another's lap."

Judging from the expression on Jay's face, he, too, doesn't think it's a comfortable position to be sitting in on a two-hour road trip.

But apparently, someone thinks otherwise.

"Oh, then let's do that!" You pipe in, flashing them with your charming smile. "I don't mind doing it!"

There's an elephant silence that follows your statement. Upon seeing their gaped expression, your smile slowly dies down, unsure if you had said the right thing.

"…Or not."

"Or yes!" Riki interrupts, relief flooding his senses. His eyes lit up as he looks around at each one of his friends. "Guys, she's offered to sit in anyone's lap. We can do that, right?"

Jungwon narrows his eyes. "It's a two-hour drive."

Riki blinks nervously. "But noona wants it."

"Then let Y/N noona sit in your lap."

Now, there's a rosy blush blooming across Riki's cheeks. Jake frowns. Lucky bastard. "I-I mean—"

"Not him," you cut in, a small smile playing on your lips. Jake can feel the exact moment everyone holds their breath, as if the air pauses on its own accord and waits for the rest of your sentence. Either they're anticipating or dreading to be your exclusive seat in the car—he's not sure. He's certain that he's the former, but he's also certain you'd pick someone more your type—Sunghoon or Riki, who are loyal gym buddies that possess strong thighs for you to sit on—or even Heeseung who's abandoned his nap and is eavesdropping the conversation now.

He doesn't know why, but surely someone hot like you would pick someone just as hot, right? And hot in Sim Jaeyun's definition is someone who matches your confidence (not him), someone who has a good body and is not shy to show them (Jake thinks his body is nice, but he's also always wearing long-sleeves), or just anyone but him.

Jay pinches the bridge of his nose. "Then who?"

When your eyes meet Jake's, the brown-haired boy almost loses his breath.

A smile curves up your lips. Jake thinks he's hallucinating because there's no way you are smirking at him.

"With Jaeyun."

There's a ripple of gasps, disbelief and shock mixing with a hint of betrayal (no doubt from Riki). Jay's brow disappears behind his hair.

"Seriously, Y/N? You don't have to—Riki's rich enough to pay for the Uber."

Riki's protest is muffled when Jungwon pulls him into a chokehold and slaps a hand over his mouth. Jake wants to pity him, really, but this time he thinks he's the one who needs help because what do you mean? There's no way—

"I'm serious. Jaeyun-ah."

—Oh my fucking God. Jaeyun. Jaeyun. Who's Jaeyun? Who the fuck is Jaeyun?

Jake has a trouble hearing you over the loud roar of his blood, heart threatening to jump out of his throat. But he manages a small, airy, 'Hm?' when all eyes are on him.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes never letting go of his, holding him hostage in your gaze alone. This, paired with the way you call his government name—a name you prefer over Jake because 'it's cuter' (according to you, not him) when he first introduced himself to you four years ago, and Jake had let you because he could never say no to you—are the most perfect, never-before-seen formula to unravel the physics genius Sim Jaeyun.

Yeah. Jake is a goner. And will soon have a boner if no one stops you from picking him as today's sacrificial thighs.

"Can I sit with you, Jaeyunnie?"

Someone please say no. Someone please stop you. Someone please tell this Jaeyun to say no because—because why him? Is this some kind of a cliché ploy that popular girls do to play with men's feelings, especially a physics nerd like him? Because if it is, Jake hates to admit that he'd be a willing participant (even if it'd break his heart a little).

"Yes, sure," he squeaks, finally recognising that Jaeyun is his name. He's still trying to process that you chose him—not Sunghoon with his ridiculous broad shoulders, or Riki with his ridiculous long legs, or Heeseung with his ridiculous charm—but him, who's sweating buckets and dampening his armpits underneath his long-sleeved T-shirt. His glasses almost glide down his nose from how sticky it is.

"It's settled, then!" Sunoo claps once, already red and irritated from having to stand under the unforgiving sun for longer than necessary. "Jake hyung and Y/N will sit together. So I will be sitting with—"

"Me!"

"Me!"

Sunoo ignores Sunghoon and Riki, and walks straight to the rear seats. "With Heeseung hyung!"

Soon, there's shuffling and then everyone's already inside the car. Riki sits in the middle with a pout, a penalty for causing the minor disruption and losing rock-paper-scissors to Sunghoon and Jake. Sunghoon is happily humming to a song from the 80s, occassionally turning around to tease Sunoo who's been trying to join Heeseung in his mandatory road-trip nap. Jay and Jungwon have settled into their designated seats as the drivers of the day, already talking about the route they're taking and traffic condition. While Jake—well, he's preparing himself for the inevitable.

You're still standing by the door, overseeing the situation at hand, and Jake tries to ignore the way his cheeks burn under your weighted gaze.

"Can I sit now?" You softly ask. Jake hesitates a moment before nodding his head frantically.

"Y-Yes."

You, on the other hand, do not hesitate at all. Jake instinctively spreads his legs when you climb into the car, already aiming his lap as your throne for the next 120-minute of the ride. His senses heighten, overly aware of his friends' eyes watching his every move, and the soft scent of peach from your body wash that invades his nose when your weight finally settles on him.

In a split second, Jake goes from never daring to touch you to having you resting your ass comfortably on his clothed dick, thanks to a certain Japanese who's now queueing songs like he didn't just commit a fatal crime against his Aussie hyung.

His slightly longer thighs bracket your exposed ones in a hesitant cage, every point of your skin meeting his seems to burn through the fabric of his jeans. Your hair and neck are one breath away from his nose now, where he's inhaling lungfuls of peaches and creams and your vanilla-ish perfume, and Jake chooses to blink at the ceiling to avoid looking over your shoulders and possibly flashing himself with the swell of your chest under that thin camisole top. The already-cramped space feels even smaller, and Jake doesn't think he can breathe properly.

While at it, Jake hopes his prayers could break through the car roof and reach the heavens.

God, please have mercy on me and let my other head not have a brain of its own.

God answers him shortly in the form of you shifting around.

"You comfortable?" You ask innocently, adjusting yourself on his lap. Jake nearly inhales his tongue, feeling blood rush to his ears and south. A strangled noise escapes his throat instead.

"Mhm."

From the front, he can hear a snort coming from none other than Jay. "You sound constipated, dude."

'Try having a pretty girl sit on your dick then!', is what Jake wishes he could say to his friend, but he knows that this is more of a him-problem. Someone like Jay won't get flustered in this kind of situation—at least not as bad as he is, who doesn't even fucking know where to put his hands, hovering in the air like he's about to conduct a choral speaking.

So, Jake resorts to conveying his rage through the rearview mirror instead, hoping that his glare and frown are enough to make Jay feel bad. (They don't, Jay finds him cute instead).

Jungwon comes to save the day as he turns to the backseat. "Do you have everything with you?" All of them except Jake hum. He thinks he doesn't have his sanity anymore, but of course the younger boy pretends to ignore him.

Jungwon eyes each one of his friends, his gaze stopping longer at the sight of Jake gripping the leather seat, the white of his knuckles almost matching his face, and you smiling innocently at him. Jungwon badly wants to laugh.

Jake widens his eyes at Jungwon. Help me!

The younger boy gives him an indecipherable look before turning to face the front. "Alright. We're not turning back for you even if you forgot your PlayStation."

Jake wants to say that they might want to leave a certain Sim Jaeyun to save him from this misery, but all words are gone from his mind when the car starts forward with a sharp jolt. Your back meets his chest in a soft thud, punching air out of his lungs. Your ass pushes deeper into his lap and Jake nearly pierces the leather with his nails from how desperately hard he's gripping it.

"Oops, sorry!" Jay chimes from the driver seat, sounding far from sorry.

You straighten up and turn around, looking more sorry than your cousin. "You okay? Sorry about that, Jaeyunnie."

Oh, fuck. Please don't use that voice on him when he's one bump away from kissing your lips. You're so close it feels like you're breathing in the same air he exhales, so close he can see the faint, tiny freckles dusting your cheeks and the bridge of your nose.

"Yeah," he manages, voice hoarse like he's just swallowed a bucket of sand. "I'm okay."

There's a halt in your movement, like you're actually seeing him through the calm façade he's exuding. His breath catches when your eyes drop to his lips briefly, the bitten-red skin tingles under your heated gaze.

Then, after a moment, you smile at him so easily; as if the tension never existed, as if the pull was only one-sided.

"If you say so."

When he's met with your shiny hair again, Jake lets out a breath he unknowlingly held. Your voice fills up the space softly as you begin talking to Jungwon and Jay, all cheery and unrestrained while he's exerting mental training equivalent to physical labour of a building constructor to stop his dick from hardening every time you move.

He hears a snicker from his left and immediately meets with Riki's mischievous eyes. The younger boy mouths something that has Jake closing his eyes and leaning on the headrest in defeat.

'Don't get horny now, Jake hyung.'

Jake is worried that if it's not now, it'll be the next time Jay hits a bump.

Instead of a road bump, Jake's personal enemy turns out to be you.

Ten minutes in, everything is still going fine. Jake is still breathing, alive, and hasn't popped a boner that could traumatise you and get him banned from the car permanently. You also seem okay, still engrossed in a conversation with the cat-duo driving the car, talking about college and your winter trip to Japan.

For a moment, Jake selfishly thinks if his lap was that…sitable, seeing as you haven't shown any signs of discomfort yet. Or, to be fair, it has been barely ten minutes since they're en route, and though those minutes are enough to pull the others into a car nap, ten minutes feel like one round of orbit around the Sun when he has you sitting on his lap.

Jake can feel himself melt into the seat. Maybe this isn't so bad at all. Maybe he can make it to Sokcho without having to cut his dick off before anyone could see his hard-on. He just has to sit really quietly and will his mind to avoid teetering dangerous territory.

Yeap. Everything is fine.

Not until you decide to put your hands on his thighs.

Jake almost jolts at the contact, flexing his thighs instinctively when you place your perfectly manicured fingers on the surface of his jeans. It's a brief touch, one that can pass as accidental, but the lingering heat it leaves behind feels almost physical.

His eyes dart to the back of your head, trembling with nerves nearly frayed at the edges, gauging your reaction, and bites the bottom of his lips when you resume your conversation as if nothing happened. Or nothing really happened to you.

It's just a touch, for God's sake. Calm your dick down.

If a simple touch from you could unravel him this fast, what about other things? What if you hug him, or-or if you hold his hand, or—wait, is he wishing for other things to happen between you and him? (He does, but he knows that it won't happen.)

Jake gulps harshly and decides to enjoy the scenery instead. He stares hard out the window, so intense like he's memorising every species of the trees they pass by, mind lost in a whirlwind of horny thoughts clashing with rationality, when you do something again.

This time, it isn't an innocent touch on his thigh. It's an innocent move to hear Jungwon better. You lean forward, pushing your ass deeper into his lap simultaneously, offering your ear to Jungwon who seems to be sharing a secret about Jay. Jake's breath hitches and his hands almost come up to hold your waist, the friction sending heat through his body.

Fuck. He peels his eyes away from the window forcefully and follows down the dip of your spine to where your ass meets his crotch. Your position highlights the narrow of your waist and the width of your hips, all sinful curves that have him swallowing harder, something inside his pants threatening to stir alive. Jake closes his eyes.

Think of Jesus, Jake. Think of Layla. He absentmindedly fixes his glasses. Think of quantum physics. Think of—

"—Oh!" You squirm excitedly, round butt wiggling slightly against his cock. "Yes, I met her before!"

Jake hisses before he can stop himself, the sound serving like a knife cutting the conversation. You and Jungwon instantly turn to look at him, the latter wearing a mischievous expression when he sees the heat painting Jake's face red.

"Are you okay?" You prompt in concern, noticing how stiffly Jake is nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah. Good. I'm horgoony."

Freudian slip is gonna be the death of him.

Jay and Jungwon burst out laughing, catching the slip as fast as any dirty-minded man would. Jake's face turns a darker shade of red, avoiding your eyes whose brows now pinching in confusion.

"Horgoony?" You echo, pretty confident you have never heard of that strange word spoken before. Jake immediately shakes his head, panic creeping into his chest when Jungwon shows a sign of opening his mouth.

No! Do not let that orange cat speak! Jungwon only cares about his downfall!

"I feel horribly good! Yeah," Jake stammers, to hell with any logical reasoning. "Like, I feel good because we're on a road trip. But also kind of horrible because I get motion sickness sometimes."

Now that the string of the sentences has flowed out of his mouth, Jake thinks he is kind of making sense. Satisfaction blooms in his chest when you nod in understanding, because two conflicting emotions—feeling good and horrible—can exist simultaneously, right? Like the way he wants to push you from his lap and hide in the deepest part of the Sokcho forest forever but also craves to just grab your hips and pull you close and have his way with you—wait stop.

What a horrible, horny, nothing-good man you are, Sim Jaeyun.

"That does sound horrible." Jake snaps out of his thoughts when he registers your voice, nodding fervently to amplify the faux pity that he's just orchestrated.

You give him a sorry look, the one where it pulls the corners of your mouth down into a frown. Jake sighs in relief. You bought it. Thank God for his smart brain.

"Yeah. I think I'm just gonna take a nap," he adds, voice turning softer when you still look at him in concern. He feels a strange need to overexplain.

"Motion sickness happens because your eyes see one thing while your inner ears and muscles feel another. If I take a nap, it'll eliminate the visual stimuli that causes the conflict…" Jake trails off, catching himself before he could go on and on and on on why humans experience motion sickness, and possibly bore you to death. He shakes his head imperceptibly. "So—yeah. I should take a nap."

To his surprise, you only give him a warm smile. "I never knew that, Jaeyun. Then what's the correlation between motion sickness and playing your phone in a moving vehicle?"

Jake blinks behind his glasses, genuinely taken aback that you're actually listening instead of zoning out halfway through his rambling.

"Oh. Um." He clears his throat. "It's kind of the same concept. Your eyes are focused on something stationary—your phone—but your body still feels the movement of the car."

You hum softly, leaning back against him slightly, prompting him to continue. Jake immediately forgets how lungs work.

"S-So your brain gets confused because the signals don't match," he continues weakly. "Your eyes tell your brain you're sitting still, but your inner ears are like, 'No, we're moving.' It's like mixed signals, and our body doesn't like mixed signals."

His ears are warming up from how true the words are to the situation he's having with you.

"And right now you're seeing my stationary body while the car's moving," you continue with a subtle tilt of your mouth, "so you're nauseous and all dizzy now, right?"

Jake almost chokes to death. Did you know about his little problem? He blinks at you rapidly, hand itching to touch his glasses in a fit of nerves.

Oh my God. He's going to die. He's going to die and Jungwon will write 'Sim Jaeyun was a smart friend, died a horny man with a dick that never went down, a standing ovation to his contribution to Seoul National University' as his headstone epitaph. You know about it so Jake is going to die!

He stumbles with his own words. "I-I mean—It's actually—"

You give him a cheeky smile. "I'm just joking with you, Jaeyun. You're probably sick because you're having me on your lap like this."

You start digging into your front pocket, frowning when it's empty. Jake holds his breath when your hands move to your back pocket, looking for whatever it is that gets you so determined and his dick so excited whenever your finger brushes against his crotch. Jake is almost blue from not breathing.

He thinks this time he's really going to die.

"Found it!"

You offer your palm to him, where two mint candies sit idly on the soft surface. Jake's chest slowly feels lighter as air rushes in, no longer collapsing under the pressure of your searching hand accidentally brushing against him moments ago. He clears his throat.

You beam at him. "These will soothe your sickness, Jaeyunnie. Please take them."

Jake studies your face.

Do you know what you're doing to him? Was everything done on purpose, or are you really oblivious to everything?

He swallows and forces a nod, taking the candies from your palm, feeling a spark of electricity in his system when his fingers brush your skin.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You turn your back on him, resuming your conversation with Jungwon and Jay. All sweet and cotton candy, unaware of the turmoil he's going through. Jake stares at the candies in his hand, a mocking sign to his misery, and heaves out a quiet sigh. He glances at his wristwatch.

It feels like two world wars had happened but it's only been twenty minutes into the drive. An hour and forty minutes of horny torture remains for Sim Jaeyun to endure, and he's not sure if he's going to survive.

He slowly closes his eyes. Maybe sleep can help with horniness, too.

It does, but only for a moment, because Jake could swear he just blinked when you tap his shoulder a few times.

Jake blinks, half-groggy and half-alert. Did he have a wet dream of you and get hard in his unconsciousness? Is that why you woke him up?

But he's met with your apologetic face instead. "I'm sorry for waking you up," you whisper, trying not to wake other boys who are fast asleep. "But my back's sore. Can I lean on you for a moment?"

In a flash, all incoherent thoughts fly out the window. Guilt starts lodging in his chest as he realises—glancing at his watch—that you've been sitting straight for one hour. Before he knows it, Jake is already nodding at you, adjusting his seat to accommodate the new position.

"Y-Yes, you can."

God, he's such a loser. The word 'no' seems to disappear from his dictionary whenever you're around.

You reward him with an appreciative smile and waste no time to turn around and lean back softly on him. The moment your back touches his chest, Jake can feel his system kick start, a chemical reaction that he can never understand no matter how hard he studies Biology.

You physically relax into his chest. "This is so much better," you sigh, a dreamy smile on your face, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Then you tilt your head upwards to glance at him. "Is this okay for you?"

Jake hopes you can't feel how fast his heart is beating through the fabric of his shirt. The brown-haired boy nods wordlessly. "More than okay."

For a moment, you just stare at him, brilliant eyes holding his in a soft gaze. It's a silent minute full of everything unspoken, rendering him speechless and even more restless because no matter how smart he is, he could never decipher the meaning behind this look you're giving him. There's something you hide that he feels like he should know, like an open secret waiting for the right time for him to catch.

This time, Jake is even sure that you can hear his heartbeat.

Then, as if that moment never happened, you close your eyes and get comfortable.

"We should sleep, Jaeyun. Don't want you to get carsick again."

You nuzzle closer and Jake holds his breath, feeling the silky strands of your hair brushing against his jaw. His hands hover, not knowing where to land, though the pinch of your waist is where he wants to hold the most. Eventually, Jake settles on his thighs, watching the difference between his veiny hands and the smooth span of your thighs.

Is he still sleeping? Is he dreaming or are you really sleeping on his chest?

It seems that sitting in his lap really tired you out, because you're fast asleep in less than five minutes. The guilt in his chest amplifies at the sight of your closed eyes, breathing evening out as sleep overtakes your being. Jake bites his lips.

He's so shameless, napping to avoid getting turned on instead of caring for your being. He’s so horrible, worrying more about his hard-on than the fact that you’ve been uncomfortable for an hour. Jake wants to cry so bad.

Jake spends the rest of the ride watching you sleep. He fixes your hair when it falls over your face, tucking it behind your ear carefully, and then smiles to himself when he sees your pout. He blocks the sunlight with his hand when it's glaring on your skin through the window, not minding letting his hand redden from the harsh light. He instinctively holds your waist at a sharp turn, firm and secure, though he lets go just as fast as if it burns, afraid that it's not a touch you'd receive had you been conscious.

Other than the carnal desire he has suppressed for you, this road trip also makes him realise the depth of the feelings he actually harbours for you. He's so doomed. He's so doomed because in what universe would a hot, sweet, popular California girl like yourself, return back the feelings of a bland, studious, quiet Korean-Aussie boy like him?

In fictions. In another lifetime. But not in Sim Jaeyun's current universe right now.

However, the Sim Jaeyun in this universe also will never know peace.

Because just as he's getting comfortable with the you-watching routine that he just recently discovered, the road has another plan for him when Jay finally, and actually, hits a bump this time.

The first bump is a mild surprise. Jake gathers it's a small bump, one that Jay overlooks while getting excited over Bon Jovi playing on the rodeo. But the aftermath brings you settling deeper into him, pressing on him in a way that has his breath hitching. Jake holds your waist on instinct.

"Oh my God, I didn't see that," Jay mutters from the front.

Jake tries to steady his breath. That's…a shock. One that shatters the soft atmosphere he created while watching you, now replaced with the same tension he's been fighting the last hour.

Jake lets go of your waist when he assumes that it's just a one-time thing. But then the bump happens again, and instead of a solid, big one—it's shaky, like they're sliding through endless, tiny jagged rocks.

"Damn bro, this road needs fixing," Jay makes another commentary. He glances at the rearview mirror. "You good, Jake?"

Jake doesn't know what to answer. "I think I am," he mumbles, voice clipped.

Is it good that you're practically bouncing in his lap, adding more pressure with almost no interval for him to recover mentally? He thinks not. But Jay doesn't have to know that.

"We're almost there," Jungwon chimes in, navigating the map. There's a shakiness in his voice that comes from the vibration caused by the bumps. "Fifteen minutes at most. We found a shorter route just now and traffic was smooth."

Fifteen minutes.

Jake thinks he might actually die in fifteen minutes.

Another bump sends your body rocking against him softly, your sleeping face scrunching for a brief second before relaxing. His grip tightens.

Fuck.

If Jay doesn't stop the car and fix this damn road himself then he's definitely going to pop a boner soon.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut when another bump rattles through the car, and then again, and again, and again until Jake can barely separate one sensation from another anymore. Until he doesn't know where he starts and where you end anymore. You shift unconsciously, settling heavier against his chest before Jay hits another bump.

This time, Jake makes a mistake of looking down at you.

He didn't notice it before, too lost in his sappy, romantic feelings for you. But right now, it's actually so damn obvious that the angle from where he sits taller than you and you lean against him, he can easily see your cleavage past the neckline of your camisole.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The road doesn't stop shaking beneath the tires, and so does his pulse as he watches your breasts bounce with every bump that comes their way. Jake averts his eyes, so stiff and so strained, but can't help letting his gaze drift back to watch the soft mounds shake.

This is bad. This is very, very bad, and Jake is nothing but a bad fucking pervert.

A particularly rough patch of road sends the entire car jolting. Your body bounces against him harder this time, more pressure and more friction that Jake almost whimpers. He tips his head back, gulping harshly as the line of his long neck glistens with a sheen of sweat.

Inside his jeans, he can feel his cock kick.

Oh, fuck—he's definitely hard now.

Oh my fucking God.

"This is the last one, promise!"

Jake doesn't even register Jay's words, or the way your head hits his jaw from impact, because his internal system is flooded with horny-filled panic. He can feel it: his dick twitching and getting semi-hard from the continuous stimulation from your bouncing. He doesn't even realise that he's now clawing at his own thighs, seeking strength that could neutralise his blooming lust, or that you are finally awake.

"Are we almost there?" You ask groggily, blissfully unaware of the raging boner forming under your ass. You sit up when the coastal view greets your blurry vision, mouth gaping in awe.

"Oh, wow!" You gasp, always excited to visit Sokcho no matter how many times you've been there. "It's beautiful as always!"

The road is smooth now, but Jake's final torture arrives in the form of you bouncing, excitedly and consciously, in his lap. You wiggle in enthusiasm, urging Jungwon to pass your phone that's been charging at the front to take some pictures and send it to the family groupchat.

"Jungwon, Jaeyun, look at those seagulls!"

Jake is seeing no seagulls. He's only seeing white hot, painful pleasure as you move in his lap, his brain dissolving into useless static. His fingers twitch, itching to grab your waist and force you to stay still, but you're so excited that he almost didn't have the heart to do it.

"Did you see that?" You lean to the window, and then shift happily when you spot kites in the sky. "We should do that too! Hey, Jay, do you think you can—"

Jake finally has had enough.

The restraint that he's been holding onto finally breaks like a taut wire getting cut. His hands snap to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, hips almost bucking up from the delicious friction alone. His lips drop to the shell of your ears, hot, ragged breath brushing the sensitive skin as his voice lowers an octave.

"Y/N," Jake licks his dry lips, the tip of his tongue peeking through. He watches with dark eyes as the hair on your neck stands straight under his unforgiving proximity.

"Stop fucking moving."

And that's the moment you feel it.

A bulge, hard and rigid and big, poking your ass from where you rest in his lap.

Oh my fucking God.

Sim Jaeyun is hard.

You freeze, breath hitching.

Neither of you dare to move. Not even your excitement of being back to your uncle's beach house, or Jay's questioning look from where you cut your sentence, can bring you to move. No.

You couldn't, not when Jake's hard dick is nudging at you right now, so tangible and unmistakably his.

The brown-haired boy is still panting in your ear, shooting tingles through your system. His grip on your waist is almost bruising, like he's trying very, very hard to hold back from overstepping lines that shouldn't be overstepped.

You hadn't meant for this to happen. Sure, Jake is fun to tease. That boy is all broken words and nervous glances whenever you're in his proximity, and it can't be helped when he blushes prettily too.

You just can't stop yourself from seeking his attention in your own way, because aside from being a pretty boy, Jake is also such a sweetheart and so, so smart. And in an age where intellligence is a scarcity, you absolutely adore smart guys.

Especially the one who isn't condescending and is actually eager to help people like him.

So, really—you hadn't meant for this to happen. Offering to become the one without a seat is a decision you made when you consider yourself to be lighter than most of the guys, but offering to sit in Jake's lap is definitely a decision born from personal bias. You kind of knew what it would cause—seeing how stiff and awkward Jake had been—but you let it go halfway through when the soreness in your back outweighs your desire to tease.

Which has now brought you to this situation.

The car's still moving like nothing happened, and the boys are slowly stirring to life one by one. Everything is normal, except for the nails digging into your waist and the deep timbre in your ear.

You swallow harshly, not daring to move. Jake is so close, so close that you can feel every movement of his chest. You sit still in his hold, trying not to wince from how hard he's gripping your hips, and how hot you find the situation is.

His dick, despite no movement is being made, only hardens further. Jake gasps almost imperceptibly, almost matching the way your breath leaves your mouth when you notice, again, just how big he is.

Fuck. Fuck, that's so hot. Sim Jaeyun is so hot and you can feel yourself slowly getting turned on.

Without any warning, as if driven by an invisible force that urges to look at him, you finally turn around.

And Jake looks absolutely wrecked.

Beads of sweat dot on his forehead, the furrow of his eyebrows showing restraint and constraint. His lips are red from how hard he's biting them, and his previously clean, smooth glasses are now fogged up and hazy. His eyes, glazed over with tamed lust, lock into yours, half-lidded and dark.

A breath catches in your throat.

This is not the Jaeyun you know.

Or, more accurately, this is not the Jaeyun he usually shows.

This is another side of him, like seeing Jake wearing short-sleeves and showing his arms for the first time. Gone are his round, puppy eyes, now replaced with this narrowed, slit gaze that makes you shiver under his heated stare. He used to be so nervous around you, and you can feel that he's nervous now, too, but his pent-up sexual frustration seems to outweigh any rational daily-Jake thoughts.

This is still Sim Jaeyun. Just a different, never-before-seen side of Sim Jaeyun.

"Are we finally there?" Riki, the last one to awaken, stretches beside the two of you. You don't even notice that the car has pulled up into the driveway of Jay's ridiculously huge beach house from how piercing Jake's gaze is holding your eyes captive now.

Jake bites his lips, the fog in his head slowly clearing up now that the car has stopped. As if snapping out of a daze, he quickly maneuvers you into Riki's lap instead, showcasing his strength that he often hides. The latter yelps at the sudden weight and grabs your waist on instinct, before Jake darts out of the car without looking back.

"Sim Jaeyun! Bring your own fucking luggage!" Jay shouts from the car boot, but the brown-haired boy has already disappeared behind the door.

You sit, stunned in silence, still frozen and unable to speak. Not until Riki nudges at you, Heeseung and Sunoo impatiently asking the both of you to move so that they can get out.

"Are you okay, noona? Is hyung okay?"

You nod. You give the youngest a strained smile as you slowly move out of his lap and out of the car, careful not to start another war of hormones.

"We're okay."

The lie tastes bitter on your tongue.

Jake is avoiding you.

It's a foreseeable aftermath. It's inevitable. But it pains you regardless.

It gets to the point where he straight up refuses sitting next to you at dinner, which raises some eyebrows and teasing from the boys. But you know better.

He is deliberately avoiding you.

It frustrates you, really. Because every summer, it is your thing with Jake to sit in silence in the morning and read at the porch, enjoying the sunrise over wordless, comfortable silence. But now he purposely sleeps in, waking up later than usual, leaving you alone in the cold of dawn, your paperback copy of The Inheritance Games left untouched on your thighs.

At movie nights, he'll be the last one to join, just to see where you sit first to avoid being near you. He'll become extra quiet when you speak, acting like the floor is more interesting than your face, not even sparing you a glance.

And your patience is wearing thin. Almost thinner than the bikini you're wearing right now.

Fine. He can ignore you all he wants, act like he didn't just pop a boner after letting you sit in his lap. He can pretend like you never affected him, pretend like nothing happened, but one thing you know is that Jake could never betray his attraction for you.

So, be fucking it. You don't care if it's petty to pick the skimpiest bikini you own today, the one in hot pink that always contours the line of your cleavage, perfectly bunching up your tits and making them look rounder. The one that you know will drive Jake crazy from how bouncy your ass looks, basically confirmed when his eyes can't seem to stop trailing after you even after you dive into the pool.

You come to the surface with a gaping mouth, letting the water slide down the lines on your body, and make no show of hiding yourself from looking straight at Jake.

That coward has the nerves to look away after staring at you like a touch-deprived teenager.

"Is Sim Jaeyun single?"

The reason why you always agree to join the all-boys road trip is because it's not exactly all-boys. There are girls who live nearby. Girls you're acquainted with from how often you follow your cousin to his beach house every summer. Spoiled rich girls whose parents come from the same tax bracket as your and Jay's family.

And one of those girls is shamelessly checking Jake out now, hungry eyes drinking in the way his wet, long-sleeved shirt sticks to his torso, outlining the faint lines of his abdomen that he never shows. She's sitting on the edge of the pool, feet-dipping while you take a break from your swim.

You narrow your eyes, an ugly spark of jealousy blooming in your chest. You don't like the implication of the question, and you absolutely hate the way she's looking at him now.

"Don't even think about it."

Your neighbour only shrugs and continues her eye-fucking. "He's so my type. So nerdy, so smart. I wonder how he'll look like without the glasses?"

You will poke her eyes before she gets the chance to. "Use your own imagination," you hiss, almost bitter when you realise that you also have barely seen him without his glasses.

Jake has sensitive eyes that react badly to contact lenses, which explains his preference for thick glasses than going out without them. Even now, when everyone is fooling around Jay's enormous pool, his thick, black-rimmed glasses perch on the bridge of his tall nose—the nose you hope you can put into good use one day.

The girl only hums, half-listening to you. She sighs dreamily. "I can't believe that I have his number."

At this point, the jealousy has turned so ugly you're actually seeing green. Or red. Or whatever that Cortis song sounds like. "You have his number?"

She finally pays attention to you. "Yeap! I asked him yesterday. I don't know what I should say to start the conversation though," she pouts, glancing back at Jake who's now sitting on the side with Sunghoon, sipping on coconut water. "Should I ask him if I can join dinner at your house tonight?"

Jake gave his number to her?

You grit your teeth. The hurt has materialised into a knife, twisting in your chest in a sharp pain disguised in jealousy. So, while Jake's been avoiding you like a fucking plague, he's been spending his time giving away his number to any curious girl? He's been talking with other girls while leaving you with radio silence, one that you didn't deserve because it was him who popped that boner?!

You are the one who's supposed to ignore him—not the other way around!

What a fucking loser.

You can't stop the bitterness from leaking through your voice when you finally speak.

"It's me and Jay that you should ask—not Sim Jaeyun. And no, you cannot join dinner at my house tonight."

You leave her dumbfounded by the pool, seething in anger that the water on your skin could steam from the heat alone. You march to the slide doors, giving Jake and Sunghoon the nastiest side-eye you could ever give when the latter calls out to you, and slam the door behind.

Whatever. Or not whatever. Sim Jaeyun is a fucking pervert and a jerk and a coward, and stupidly hot while being so oblivious to how hot he actually is. Whatever! You don't care.

You don't care that he barely speaks a word to you. You don't care that he leaves any room you walk into. You don't care that he's flirting with other girls and giving away his number willingly when you had his on default for being Jay's younger cousin, and from Jay himself at that.

The corner of your eyes burn.

You wish you didn't care.

You're ignoring Jake.

Jake knows this the moment you no longer come to the porch to read. Instead, every morning is now spent in the garden with Jungwon, tending to Jay's mom's flowers. After, you'll brew some hibiscus tea that you pluck from the garden and share it with Sunoo and Riki.

And when he walks into the kitchen to get some food, you no longer meet his eyes, or save that apple that he knows you know he likes to eat for breakfast. You let Heeseung eat all of them! It's so—so unfair, because he likes apples and you know it!

It sends Jake to the end of a cliff. Why are you suddenly being like this?

His sanity is stretching thin as he tries to work his brain. Why the sudden change? Is it because of his silence? But he's just embarrassed to face you! Or—did you find out about it?

Genuine horror floods his mind when he thinks, oh no, you must've realised how disgusting he truly is. How dirty-minded and perverted he is, that every day he has to take cold showers three times a day whenever he catches a glimpse of you.

You in your sleepwear. You in your casual shirt. You in shorts.

You in bikini.

Jake has fallen out of any point of salvation, because God, could any man get this horny just from a mere look? In the back of his mind, he knows it's the image of you sitting in his lap that ignited the beginning of his undoing, but the continuous hard-on he gets whenever he's around you is definitely, entirely on him.

And Jake, oh so sweet Jake, doesn't dare touch himself to the thought of you. No. He'd rather leave his balls blue, take cold showers every morning, every evening, and every night, and let his dick go from standing tall like a national anthem was being played to becoming flaccid under the cold water without any action. He doesn't even have the guts to touch his own fucking dick, the guilt blocking him from doing anything to relieve himself.

So—did you find out about it? Because if you did, then Jake could understand the cold shoulders you're giving him.

But Jake is a mere man—maybe a bit perverted, and a bit too horny despite his image, so he couldn't stop himself from getting hard the moment he sees you walking into the living room in nothing but an oversized white tee that falls off your shoulder. He grabs the nearest cushion and places it on top of his crotch, blood already rushing south when he sees the strap of your black bra.

This is why he has to go to church sometimes; to balance everything out. Because Einstein never talked about the solution or formula to cure men's (Jake's) sexual desires that seem endless. And sexual desires that come from seeing a strap of a bra alone.

Whatever it is, Jake's soul has almost left his body, already tuning out of his surroundings. He doesn't even realise that Jay and Riki are wrestling for the TV remote, and accidentally sending said remote flying onto the floor just a few feet away from him.

He only comes to when you stand in front of him, back facing him, and bend over to pick up the remote.

You. Bend. Over. In. Front. Of. Him.

In a second, Jake has a full view of your ass. The shirt rides up slightly, revealing white shorts that stretches across the round flesh as you bend over to reach the remote and Jake feels like he's brought back to the car when he was fighting demons as you unintentionally ground his crotch with every movement.

His grip on the cushion tightens, head dizzy from the way you practically shove your butt in his face.

Jake releases a shaky exhale.

He can see the outline of your panties and wonders if it matches your black bra.

And he can see the outline of his doomed future if he stays in the living room any longer.

"Whose turn is it to pick the movie?" You casually ask, now straightening up as if you just didn't flash Jake with your perky ass.

"Jake hyung," Jungwon replies from the center of the long couch, carding his hand through Sunoo's silky hair, the blonde who's now laying down his head on his lap. "It's his turn."

Your face remains expressionless as you turn to the glasses boy. But instead of taking the remote from your hand, Jake stands up, avoiding eye contact and clutching the cushion tight over his crotch.

"I-I suddenly feel sick! Gonna skip tonight's movie, bye!"

Then he flees the living room, leaving behind six confused men and one very angry, very upset girl.

Jake thinks he deserves a medal for surviving the living room.

Or perhaps an exorcism.

The moment his bedroom door clicks shut behind him, Jake drops the cushion onto the floor and drags both hands down his face with a groan. His glasses nearly fall off his nose in the process.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

He paces once across the room, then twice.

Outside, he can still hear the muffled sounds of the movie downstairs—Riki yelling dramatically at a character, Sunoo complaining about spoilers, Jay laughing too loudly. Normal sounds. Normal people.

Meanwhile Jake feels like he's one accidental glimpse of your shoulder away from committing a crime.

His eyes squeeze shut.

That white shirt.

The black bra strap.

The way you bent over in front of him so casually, completely unaware that Jake nearly ascended right there on Jay's living room couch.

"Fuck," he whispers weakly to himself.

Jake drops onto the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees.

Maybe he should take another cold shower. That would make four today.

"I should sleep," he mutters to himself, breath shaky. "S-Sleep can help with motion sickness and horniness."

With a newfound resolution, he turns off the lamp and settles under the blanket. His movement is stiff and awkward, overly aware of the tent straining his shorts. Once he pulls the blanket over his chest, Jake closes his eyes, forcing sleep into his system.

Only, the image of you swimming in your hot pink bikini flashes behind his eyelids.

"No, stop. Not that," he whispers, brows scrunching in protest. He shakes his head, as if physically removing the image away, and tries again.

This time, the image of you in his lap comes back, stripped down to heated skin and soft breaths, your body moving against his in ways that make his stomach twist.

His eyes fly open. The image is so clear and vivid, thanks to his photographic memory and insane imagination—the very thing that's been saving him in the academic department now serving as the tool that brings him to his downfall.

His cock twitches involuntarily.

"N-No," he pants, chest moving rapidly. He grips the edge of the blanket, knuckles turning white. "I—Stop—"

Then he remembers just now: you bent over, giving him a delicious access to his ass-shaped sufferings, and Jake almost whimpers from the flashback alone.

The room rises in temperature, the air conditioner doing nothing to tone down the feverish lust spreading through his body. Jake finally relents and discards the blanket, glasses all fogged up as he stares at the bulge under his shorts.

"I'm sorry," he whimpers, slipping off his shorts and boxers until they bunch up around his knees. "I'm so fucking sorry."

His cock springs free, standing tall in the dimness of his room. The tip glistens, already drooling with precum that shows no sign of stopping. With shaky hands, hesitance still edging around his lust, Jake finaly touches himself.

He has to bite down hard on his lips to muffle the sound threatening to escape. His hand stutters, the feeling of finally rubbing some relief after days of holding back comes crashing down on him. His head spins from how heavy his cock is in his hold, veins protuding like they're going to combust.

He slowly starts moving his hand, lathering up precum to ease the glide. His head tips back, a strangled sound catches behind his throat.

"Oh, God," his head spins, sparks of lust bursting at the tip of his fingers. "Oh, fuck—"

Through his hazy gaze of the blurry lenses, Jake tightens his grip slightly. A moan escapes his lips at the force, his cock only getting heavier in his hand. He plays with the mushroom tip of his dick, thumbing the slit and hissing when it sends pleasure up his spine.

"Ngh—" his eyes squeeze shut, brain putting up pieces of his memory of you. His body jerks when the rough pad of his thumb touches the underside of his cock, and as if on cue, the image of your jiggly breasts inside the car flashes behind his closed eyes.

"Fuck—Y/N," Jake sobs, picking up his pace. His wrist turns and flicks, biceps flexing hard at the speed he's going. Guilt starts accumulating inside his chest the more he thinks of you, of your voice, of your gaze, of your scent—but guilt isn't enough to stop Jake from chasing his own release.

"'So sorry," he chokes, letting go of his bottom lip, bitten-red and swollen. He imagines it was your hand instead of his, smaller and softer, with those manicured nails that he loves so much. How tiny your hand would look around his hard dick, trying to grip his length in its fully erect state.

Jake isn't inexpereinced. He's had his own fair share of sexcapades with a few people, and he's always been told that he's bigger than average. The big dick that he hides under his pants, further concealed by his nervous persona that only certain girls find cute.

But seeing his state right now, Jake thinks he's the furthest thing from cute.

He's pathetic.

Pathetic and gross and disgusting, feeling bad for jerking off to the thoughts of you but still unable to retract his hand and stop. The sound of his cries that he fails to hide fills up the space, and for the first time in days he's very glad that he won paper-rock-scissors during room assignment.

"Oh, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," he chants, mouth gaping open when he can feel himself close. His wrist is already tired and numb from the relentless pace he's set, the slick sound of his sinful act matching the roar of his blood rushing in his ears.

"Please, please, 'm gonna cum," he sobs, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. His hips lift off the mattress. "Please—"

"Do not fucking cum, Sim Jaeyun."

Jake's entire body locks up.

His wrist stills immediately, pleasure crashing into horror so fast it makes his stomach twist. For a second, he genuinely thinks his heart stops beating.

The room goes dead silent except for his ragged breathing.

Through fogged-up lenses and teary eyes, Jake stares at you standing by the door, unable to process the fact that you're actually here.

That you heard him.

That you saw him.

Oh my fucking God.

His hand jerks away from himself like he’s been burned, chest heaving violently as he scrambles to sit up straighter. The blanket tangles around his legs from how abruptly he moves.

"I—"

Nothing comes out.

Jake has never felt this level of humiliation before.

Not when he failed his chemistry olympiad in tenth grade. Not when he tripped in front of his entire lecture hall. Not even when Jungwon found his hidden Pokémon card collection at nineteen.

This is worse. So much worse.

Because it's you.

You, standing there in that oversized white shirt slipping off your shoulder again, eyes dark and unreadable as you look at him sprawled across the bed like something shameful.

Jake feels sick. His face burns so hot he thinks he might actually pass out.

"S-Sorry," he chokes out instinctively, because apologising is the only thing his brain knows how to do right now. "I didn't—I wasn't—I—"

His voice cracks miserably.

Jake is going to cry.

What should he even say in this situation? Sorry that you caught him jerking off to you? Sorry that he's such a nerd, such a loser that the only time he could talk smoothly with you was when he was defining what motion sickness was, but never had the courage to tell you how much he likes you and how much you affect me? Sorry that he's such a pervert that he thinks of you in positions way too inappropriate to be just friends?

The weight of his arousal sits heavy against his thigh, a testament to a newfound, lifelong embarrassment that he'll carry to his grave.

Jake squirms under your heated gaze, and quickly covers his crotch with his blanket when you slip into his bedroom wordlessly. The door clicks shut, the sound amplified by the heavy silence hanging in the air. His body tenses up.

Oh my God—he messed up, didn't he? Jake hangs his head low in shame, tears gathering along his lashlines.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to…"

His vision turns blurry. Fuck, you must hate him now.

"I-It's wrong—I know that—I'm sorry—ah!"

Jake looks up in surprise when your bold hand cups his erection. There's angry lines in your forehead, a sneer on your mouth, but the nasty look you're giving him does nothing to soothe down his arousal.

If anything, twisted as it is—it turns him on even more.

"Couldn't even look me in the eye downstairs," you begin, "but you here you are, jerking off to me like I wouldn't find out?"

The venom in your voice hurts him. You're being mean with your words, and it hurts his feelings but Jake couldn't care less. His mind is a messy jumbles of guilt and pleasure and shame, so all he does is cry and shake his head.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N—"

"Are you really sorry?" you tighten your grip on his cock, one knee dipping into the mattress. "Your dick doesn't seem sorry though."

Jake wants to cry—oh, he's already crying. His hand curls into the sheets beneath him, unable to form coherent words when you start rocking the heel of your palm on his hard-on. The friction from the blanket and the pressure from your hand only spark electric pleasure through his system.

Within seconds, Jake is all hard again—even harder than before.

"Tell me, Jaeyunnie. Did all of this happen because I sat in your lap?"

Jake whimpers pathetically. You knew. Of course you knew. You're not only hot and pretty and kind, you're also smart like him, so in tune with your surroundings. You're a little mean right now, but it's okay because Jake believes that he deserves this after avoiding you without any explanation.

"Answer me, Sim Jaeyun."

"Yes," he croaks, shame burning his face red. His eyes screw shut. The admission sets his being on fire, skin flushed from embarrassment. "O-Oh, God, y-yes."

He cracks one eye open when you don't reply. Instead, he's met with your fiery gaze. The edges have softened with lust, like you're also affected by this, but you're good at keeping your control.

Unlike him, who's unraveling like a loose thread under your touch alone.

Jake almost whines when you retract your hand, but the sound is muffled with a gasp when you yank the blanket open. He instinctively closes his crotch area with his hands, but you're fast to slap his wrists away.

"I'm so pissed off, Jaeyun," you mutter, swinging your leg over his thighs so now you're straddling him. You fix him with your sharp eyes, hand finding his dick again.

"You've been acting like we're strangers and it hurts me so bad."

Jake's mouth hangs open as you gather his precum and start working your wrist around his cock. His brain barely registers your words, too lost in a cloud of lust, but when he finally processes it, he desperately shakes his head.

He wants to apologise again and again and again, because he is truly sorry—he didn't know how affected you were. How could he not, when you're always described as everything out of his league, but he's always described as everything that doesn't fit your type?

"I'm sorry, I was just—fuck—just ashamed—" he gasps, hips bucking into your touch. "Didn't mean to—t-to hurt y—ngh, Y/N, faster please."

You coo at him, feigning sympathy as you set a ruthless pace on his cock. Jake is big—something that isn't a surprise anymore since that day you sat in his lap—but the sheer size of him is enough to make your mouth water and your panties damp.

Damn these nerdy boys. Acting all shy and innocent when they have this monstrousity hiding behind those ugly glasses.

"Faster? You wanna cum, Jaeyunnie?" you tilt your head. Jake nods frantically. "I don't think you deserve it, though. Why not ask from those girls you gave your number to?"

Something sharp twists in his stomach. Jake's eyes fly open, almost cowering when you give him a distasteful look. He grabs your arms desperately and shakes his head.

"N-No! She asked me first—" you put more pressure and Jake damn near loses his mind. "—said she needs—help—w-with Physi—cs—"

You roll your eyes. It's that easy to fool him? Can't he see the way those girls fuck him with their eyes? Without waiting for his sentence to finish, you sink down and take him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck!" Jake screams, accidentally thrusting up his hips. He bites his lips, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose as you take him deeper, tracing the line of his veins with your sinful tongue. "Oh, Y/N—please."

You hum around his length, tongue swirling as you hollow your cheeks to deepen the suction. Jake nearly busts from that alone, mind melting into a puddle of your name, the wet heat of your mouth serving as a better pleasure than his own hand.

You start bobbing your head up and down, marveling in the way the weight of his dick sits on your tongue. He's so big that you're so close to choking, but you don't care. You need to remind Jake how stupid he's been acting and how stupid he is if he thinks that you were not just as attracted toward him.

Jake sobs into his hands, hips jerking with every touch of his tip hitting the back of your throat. His head is getting dizzier, he can feel the coil in his stomach getting tighter and he knows that anytime soon, he will come undone on your skillful tongue.

But just as he's about to reach that high, you let go of him with a pop.

"No!" Jake whines, tears sliding down his cheeks. You're so mean. "P-Please let me cum."

"Not yet, nerdy boy." You mutter, red lips slick with saliva and precum. Jake can only sob, dick throbbing in need and desperation.

This is the punishment he deserves for being a jerk. He knows that, but he can't seem to stop crying. God, he's so pathetic.

Then he feels movement on his thighs. He blinks through the foggy lenses and lets out a breathless moan when you lift up your shirt and shorts and discard them away, leaving you in nothing but a pair of bra and panties. His mouth starts salivating at the display of your beautiful body, and Jake swears he almost cums when he sees that you're indeed wearing black panties.

Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Just as he imagined—God, you're so perfect he wants to kiss you.

But instead of a kiss, you push his at his chest instead. "Lie down."

And like the obedient puppy that he is, Jake follows your word, carefully descending his back onto the mattress. He's still sniffling from the previous denial, but now it's mixed with anticipation of what's to come when you hover above him.

You trace a gentle finger along the tall bridge of his nose, a barely-there touch that makes him shiver. With a slow tap on the tip of his nose, you finally speak.

"Did anyone ever ride your nose, Jaeyunnie?"

H-His nose?

Girls always compliment his nose, but he's never given it many thoughts as to why they did that. "N-No. Never."

There's a wicked smile on your face as you stand on your knees. Jake watches with a mouth gaping open as you make a show of shimmying down your panties, painfully and traitorously slowly that he almost rips it with his hand.

"Ah, what a shame," you sigh dreamily. "Guess I have to be the first one then."

Once your panties are out of the picture, Jake is instanly hit with a wave of your arousal. Your pussy glistens under the moonlight, soaked with slick and dripping with need. Jake inhales shakily, stopping himself from darting out his tongue to get a taste.

Fuck. He's sure he has actually died in the car and this is heaven because not even in his wildest dream did he get to have you like this.

Too lost in his reverie, Jake belatedly notices that you have removed his glasses. Despite your mean words and your mean actions, the caresses of your thumb on his cheeks are so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"You're so handsome, Jaeyun," you murmur. "But I bet you'll look better buried between my thighs."

You give him no time to recover from your crude words when you slowly move to straddle his head. Then, with a hand in his hair, you descend, letting the tip of his nose nudge at your clit.

And oh my fucking God—you smell so divine.

"Ah, Jaeyunnie," you moan, rocking your hips slowly to test the waters. "Your nose feels so good."

You sound even more divine. Jake's eyes roll to the back, savouring the way your sinful moans fall on his ears as you use his nose to get off. The bridge of his nose slides through your folds—wet and sticky and so sweet that he can't get enough of it.

Jake wraps his arms around your thighs to give you support, and another moan escapes your lips upon seeing his veiny arms around your supple skin. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, groaning despite your cunt suffocating him, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure to your system.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—"

He can't breathe, and he can't hear properly from how hard you're clamping his head with your legs, but he can't deny that this is the best way to die. Being suffocated by your leaking pussy sounds like a dream death compared to dying in Jay's old SUV.

You keep your rhythm, rocking your hips back and forth, grinding your clit on his nose and dragging your folds on the tall bridge until the sharp tip of his nose catches at your hole. The grip you have in his hair hurts his scalp, but everything is worth the pain when Jake can watch you fall apart on his face, his own cock pulsing with a trembling need to cum.

"Ah—ah—Jaeyun oppa—"

Fuck. Fuck that sacred nickname.

The dynamics between you two often makes Jake forget the fact that he is indeed older than you. Coming from the States, it's uncommon for you to address people with such honorifics.

But right now, using that very honorific against him ignites something inside him; a carnal desire that's been thrumming low in his guts, waiting to be unleashed.

This time, Jake barely stops himself from stealing a taste. He darts out his tongue, prodding your hole with the tip, and hums in satisfaction when your stance falters slightly.

"Don't," you hiss, but there's no heat in it. Jake takes it as a sign to continue, licking more into your weeping cunt until your pace turns sloppy.

He doesn't care. You're probably gonna be so mad at him and punish him more, but whatever it is you have prepared can wait. Right now, Jake is having the best pussy of his life—barely breathing but still eating so, so fucking well.

"Jaeyun—stop—"

"No," Jake protests when you try to get up, pulling you down until the full weight of your body rests on his face.

Oh God, choking on pussy has never felt so good.

"Sim Jaeyun!" You squirm, feeling the stirring inside your belly getting wilder. Despite your weak attempts, your hips keeps grinding on his nose, showing no signs of stopping. You throw your head back.

You knew his nose would be the best thing to ride on, but hearing the slurps of your slick and his saliva—the sinful noises of him feasting on your cunt—makes you almost regret not letting him eat you out first.

"Ngh—Jaeyun—I'm close—"

Jake pulls your hips harder, letting you grind your clit on the tip of his nose as his tongue pushes into your hole mercilessly. You let out a high-pitched scream, muscles pulling tight at his ministrations. The double stimulations are fast pushing you over the edge.

Soon, white hot pleasure crashes into you, your vision turning black momentarily. It's so blurry and messy that you haven't realised that you've been screaming his name raw, hips unrelenting to chase the high. Jake swallows every drop of your sweet nectar, moaning into your spasming hole as he licks it clean.

Fuck. He's already desperate to have another round.

When you come down from your orgasm, hair matted to your forehead, you look down at him furiously.

"Let me go! I told you not to do it!" You attempt to sit up, but Jake doesn't let go, shaking his head with a pout. His nose and chin are drenched with your release, it's so sinful and filthy and you can't lie that you like seeing him so wrecked and fucked over like this.

"Can I have more? Please," he begs, kissing your inner thigh unhurriedly. He's already so addicted to the taste of you, Jake thinks he's gonna die if he doesn't have another fill. "I'll be so good to you, Y/N. Wanna eat you out so bad."

You grit your teeth, pushing away the temptation to save your pride. "No. Get up, Jaeyun."

But Jake is stubborn. He's so desperate to have more of you that he doesn't mind if he's leaving his own cock neglected and balls blue. "Please, I need it bad," he nudges at your pussy with his finger, pupils blown wide at the strings of sticky cum decorating your folds. "Fuck, please, Y/N, I want to eat you out."

"I said get up, Jaeyun."

"Y/N—"

"Jake."

The sharpness in your voice cuts through the haze instantly.

Jake stills immediately.

The desperation in his eyes flickers into something softer, more uncertain, like a scolded puppy finally realising he’s crossed a line. His grip on your thighs loosens at once, chest rising and falling hard beneath you.

The sound of his English name on your tongue feels foreign and almost painful, because it lacks the usual warmth and intimacy that your 'Jaeyun' usually holds. Yet, something inside him pulses harder, liking the change more than he'd like to admit.

“S-Sorry,” he whispers automatically, voice rough. “I just…”

He doesn’t even know how to explain it. How could he? That hearing you moan his name made him lose every coherent thought in his brain? That he’s spent days trying to stay away from you only to end up here, beneath you, completely ruined anyway?

You study him for a long moment before finally shifting off his face.

“Sit up.”

Jake obeys instantly.

The movement is clumsy and needy. His hair is a mess, lips swollen, face still flushed from lack of oxygen and desire. Without his glasses, his eyes look unbearably open like this—too honest, too vulnerable.

You cup his jaw gently, the touch losing its cruelty. Jake melts into it.

"There he is," you murmur softly, fixing his bangs that are obscuring his eyesight.

Jake can feel his heart stutter traitorously. This version of you—tender and sweet—a glimpse of the usual-you, is always more dangerous than any teasing.

Wordlessly, you tug at his shirt, and Jake obediently holds up his arms to let you peel away the fabric. Your eyes flick downward, amusement tugging at your lips.

"You know," you start, fingers trailing slowly down his sculpted chest, "for someone who acted terrified of touching me in the car…"

He groans softly, already embarrassed.

"…You were pretty damn desperate down there, Jaeyun."

His face burns hotter. Fine, he's just a touch-starved man, desperate for you in every way possible. But how could he not? Have you even looked at yourself?

"I-I can't help it…" His eyes drop to your lips. "You tasted so good."

A breathy chuckle escapes you, quiet and fond. But to Jake's ears, he's already hearing the wedding bells chime.

And suddenly the humiliation twisting in his chest eases into something warmer when you climb into his lap again, turning slowly until your back presses against his chest.

The exact same position. That fucking position in the car that has his mind on an endless frenzy that he thinks he was genuinely getting crazy.

Jake goes completely still beneath you.

“Oh,” you whisper, settling against him deliberately. “Now you’re quiet again?”

His hands hover uncertainly near your hips, like he still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch you.

“You’re mean,” he mumbles weakly against your shoulder. You laugh, one hand patting his hair as the other one aligning his neglected cock on your entrance.

"But I know you like it, Jaeyunnie."

At the same time you presses on the nickname, you sink onto his cock slowly, letting the bulbous head of his length spear you open.

The both of you moan simultaneously. Jake's hands find puchase on your waist, trying his best to stop from manhandling you to just fucking bounce on his dick and letting you adjust. You, on the other hand, let the stretch burn, your walls spasming to accommodate his length.

"S-So big," you stutter, taking him inch by inch. Jake drops his head on your shoulder, his own breathing ragged. "So—full—"

When he finally fits inside you to the brim, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. He fills you up so good that you can feel every vein against your walls, every pulse kissing your insides. It's a dizzying experience that prompts you to start moving your hips.

Jake’s fingers dig into your waist, trembling.

Not because he wants to stop you.

Because he’s trying so hard not to lose himself completely.

The position alone is enough to send him spiraling—your back against his chest, your body in his lap exactly like the car ride, except now there’s no seatbelt digging into his side, no boys teasing from the front seat, no restraint left between the two of you.

Just you and him.

And the devastating realisation that you wanted him too.

Jake lets out a broken sound against your shoulder when you move again, his forehead falling against your skin. His entire body feels feverish, overwhelmed by too much sensation and too many emotions crashing into him at once.

"Wasn't this what got you so hard, Jaeyunnie?" You pant between breathless moans. "Me in your lap, bouncing on your cock like this?"

"Ngh—" A strangled noise escapes his throat. Jake watches with bated breath as your hands find the clasp of your bra and finally let the two soft mounds free. Now, he badly wants you to turn around, eager to relive the scene of your bouncy breasts in Jay's car.

"Did you not—ah—crave this?"

You arch your back, pleasure tingling every nerves as his cock drags against your walls. Jake feels his dick throb inside your hole, the same position that ruined him now had him completely at your mercy.

"S-So tight," he whimpers, mouth falling open at the way you clench around his cock and roll your hips. "S-So fucking tight, Y/N, fuck."

Jake clings onto you desperately, bucking his hips to chase your movement. But you hold down a firm hand on his thigh, completely in charge.

"Don't," you warn, grinding down on him in a way that makes your ass ripple. "Or I'll get up and leave."

Jake freezes instantly.

The warning slices straight through him, sharp and effective. His hands tighten on your waist, but he forces his hips back against the mattress despite every instinct screaming at him to chase you harder.

“O-Okay,” he breathes quickly. “Okay. Sorry.”

God, he sounds wrecked.

You can feel the way his thighs tremble beneath yours, the strain in his breathing every time you move your hips slowly against him. Jake drops his forehead between your shoulder blades with a weak groan, like simply holding himself back is physically painful.

"I'm still mad at you," you murmur. You roll your hips again, faster this time, and Jake nearly whimpers into your shoulder. His jaw clenches so hard he might pop a vessel.

"Are you sure you're not the one—" you moan, your thighs burning from how fast you're exerting yourself. The wet sound of skin hitting skin starts getting louder the harder you slam down your hips. "The one who's being—mean?"

Jake sobs into your skin, half-regretting, half-dizzy. The tight heat of your cunt pulses and flutters around his dick and he genuinely feels horrible for only thinking using his other head now.

Even so, he still manages to apologise again. "I'm s-sorry—"

You clench around him on purpose. Jake digs his nails deeper. "Fuck—"

"Stop fucking apologising," you seethe, voice trembling as you feel your release getting near. "Delete her number or I'll sit in Sunghoon's lap when we get back to Seoul."

There's no bite in your threat. It's just a spur-of-the-moment kind of things, one that you say just to rile him up.

But Jake takes your words like a verdict. He snakes an arm around your waist, lips worshipping your skin in desperate, wet kisses.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, darling," he begs, tears clinging to his lashes. He bites his lips in an attempt to stop himself from moaning because he's so, so close. "I will block her. Fuck—I will delete her number. P-Please don't sit with S-Sunghoon—"

His speech is interrupted by a high-pitched whine. Jake hasn't come all night, he's nothing more than a thread waiting to snap. The moment you bounce harder and faster, the supple skin of your butt jiggling wilder, Jake can feel that he's about to come.

"Y/N—ah—p-puh—lease—" he whimpers, voice scratching at his throat. "'M close, 'm g-gonna cum—"

But he should've known that you're so, so mean.

The moment you lift off his cock, Jake genuinely sobs out loud, thrashing under you.

"No! No, please—" he chokes, hiding his crying face behind his hands, too shattered when his orgasm being denied again. "Please, no—I wanna cum, please."

You turn around and the sight of him—red-faced, wet cheeks, lips trembling—it softens your heart. You quickly pull his wrists and rest his hands on your hips, your own cupping his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, baby," you shush him, blowing kisses to the tip of his nose as you take him again. Jake whimpers quietly. "I'm so sorry—I'll let you cum this time, hm?"

Jake weakly nods, then lets out a soft moan at the familiar feeling of your walls enveloping him. You move again, already sore, but you no longer have it in you to torture your poor, poor Jaeyun. This time, you immediately begin with a fast pace, giving him a show of your tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Ah—fuck—Jaeyunnie—" you bite your lips, expression so erotic that it has the brown-haired boy drooling. "Glasses—like you better with glasses."

Jake is too dazed to register your words, so you pick the glasses on your own and put them on him. And there he is—your sweet, sweet boy, your Jaeyunnie that you adore so much, your Jaeyun that thinks it's bad for wanting you this much.

"S-So—handsome, Jaeyunnie," you roll your hips, chest arching into his face. "My nerdy boy, you're mine, hm?"

Jake physically cannot take it anymore. The sight of you on top of him, bouncing on his cock like your life depends on it, putting on his glasses and calling him yours—it's too much for Sim Jaeyun who's never been given this kind of attention and affection.

Especially from you.

His lips move, but you can barely hear him.

"Hm? What did you say?"

"I said I'm sorry, Y/N," his nails dig into your waist. "I'm so fucking sorry, please don't be mad at me."

Your brows furrow in confusion, but before you know it, Jake is already flipping you around, changing your position in one swift movement. You have half a second to gain your breath before the boy hovering over you pulls you closer by your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders.

"I'm s-sorry," Jake stutters, slipping his dick back into your cunt and starts thrusting fast. "I-I can't hold it anymore."

Despite the showcase of his strength, Jake looks absolutely ruined. There's a flicker of guilt in his eyes, but from the pace he's railing you, you know that his lust ovverrides whatever little guilt he has.

Soon enough, the air smells so thickly of sex. The sound of his balls slapping your ass, accompanied by your high-pitched moans and his groans are the only one filling up the space, to the point that you're sure one of the boys must've heard you.

It's so hot and filthy that Jake's glasses are all fogged up again. His grip on your waist is now leaving bruises, but you don't care because all you can think of is Jake, Jake's big cock, Jake's stupid glasses and just Jake, Jake, Jake.

"F-f-f-fuck," he exhales shakily, splitting you open with his cock. "I-I'm so—close—"

You thrash around, fisting the sheets until it tears from the force of your nails. "Jaeyun—" you gasp when he keeps abusing that spot that has you seeing stars. "Oh, fuck—Jaeyun—harder—"

Jake leans forward, straining his arms on either side of your head. His glasses slide down his slick nose slightly when he bends down to capture your lips in his thick ones. You both moan into the kiss, finally getting the taste of each other, tongues already clashing for more.

Jake licks into your mouth, hips never faltering, and sucks on your bottom lip. You whimper, the sensation becoming too much until you're just breathing against his lips, all heat and teeth and saliva. Jake groans.

"I-I'm gonna—cum—" he gasps against your mouth, face scrunching in pleasure when you clench around him. "O-Oh my fucking God, Y/N, fuck—please let me cum inside."

His hands find your waist again, thrusting harder than before. His head drops to your shoulder as he begs, again and again.

"P-Please let me cum inside, please," he whimpers, voice needy and whiny. "Please—I'm gonna—I wanna—"

"Just cum," you moan when his teeth scrape against your skin. "Jae—Jaeyunnie—"

Jake groans. With last few, deliberate thrusts, he finally cums—a full-body orgasm that has him shuddering, his cock spurting out rope after thick rope of his release, painting your walls white.

You follow him just a second after, vision blurring for a moment as your second orgasm rips through your body. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream, eyes rolling back from how delicious your climax is.

Jake takes a long moment breathing into your ear, grinding his hips slowly before he's finally pulling out. He hisses as he drags out his cock, careful not to overstimulate you, and watches in awe as white fluid flowing out of your pulsing cunt.

"Oh my fucking God."

You breathe out a laugh, sounding breathless and disbelieving. Seeing Jake sitting still by your legs, you open your arms toward him.

"C'mere, Jaeyunnie. Let's cuddle for a moment before washing up—I'm too sore to walk."

Jake perks up at that. Gone is the hungry, lust-driven boy a few moments ago, now replaced with the shy, kicked puppy holding his tail between his legs.

"Cuddle?" he echoes, unsure. "Are you not mad at me?"

"I could never be mad at you for too long," you reply, giving him a reassuring smile.

It gives Jake a flicker of hope. He scoots closer, still cautious and observing, like approaching a scared animal.

"But I avoided you…"

You drop your arms and pretend to think, making a show of tapping your chin with a finger.

"You're right. You were mean for that. Why don't you carry me to the bathroom and clean me up so we can cuddle afterwards?"

Hearing that, Jake finally relaxes, his tight muscles loosening. With an eager smile, he scoops an arm under your knees and your back, and then lifts you up easily as if you weigh nothing.

"Your wish is my command, my princess."

The next morning, you receive knowing looks from the boys. There are lingering stares on your neck from where Jake was mauling your skin last night, but you have no problem showing them off.

Jake, on the other hand, is on the edge of another breakdown.

"So, Jake," Jay starts, already planning a mischievous teasing inside his head. "How did it feel like to get railed—"

"I did not get railed!" he squeaks, ears blushing red. "I-I was the one who railed her! Right, Y/N?"

There's a laugh bubbling inside your chest as you watch Jake squirm under the relentless teasing of his friends. It felt good to be the one in charge, but after that display of strength and the way he manhandled you last night?

You don't mind having him on top of you.

But the both of you know who's truly in charge.

And if you choose to sit in his lap again, this time grinding and shifting on purpose that he gets hard until the car reaches Seoul, nobody has to know that.

Well, maybe Riki knows. But who cares.

wow okay

permanent taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll @in-somnias-world @rikismists @loviseamms @ikeupop @k3nza @heezeunx @ot7archives @petulapetula

dividers from: @/diviniyae

[alleiraa]

Biggest Fan - l.hs

Pairings: Brother's Best Friend!Heeseung x Fem!Reader

IN WHICH you start an OnlyFans to pay for your parents' damaged car after an accident that was most definitely your fault. Little do you know that your biggest fan is none other than your childhood crush and your older brother's best friend: Lee Heeseung.

WC: 4.1k

Content/Warnings: MDNI, Brother's Best Friend, Childhood Friends, Reader is Jay's Little Sister, Reader is Spoiled, Sprinkle of Fluff, Cursing, Mentions of Drug Use, Smut, Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Aftercare, Bathroom/Counter Sex (trying very hard to be quiet).

A/N: In honor of our Heeseung's (second) debut ❤️

You tilted your head back on the bed, moaning as you ran your fingers through your folds, wet sounds filling your room.

The red recording light of your laptop blinked in front of you, pointing directly at the spot where your fingers dipped into your entrance and cutting off above your bare chest. You never showed your face.

The friction sent jolts of pleasure down your back, the tight coil of heat between your legs growing with every second. 

Your free hand gripped the sheets, fingers turning white as you felt your climax approaching. You put your thumb on your clit, rubbing fast and hard circles as your orgasm crashed over you, drawing a silent gasp from your lips as your mouth dropped open. 

You arched on the bed, your breasts bouncing as you collapsed onto the mattress with a spent thud. Your breaths were ragged as you panted, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before sitting up and ending the recording. You dragged it to your drafts folder before closing your laptop and heading for the shower.

After half an hour of edging yourself on camera, you were always a sticky mess. But it was all worth it for the money. Three weeks on OnlyFans, and you were already halfway to the 1k you owed your parents for fucking up your dad's car. You had insisted that a cat ran in the road, and you just had to swerve, but your older brother Jay smelled the weed on your breath before you’d even finished your carefully constructed cover story. He’d sold you out without a second thought, almost as angry as your parents at your recklessness.

They said you were an embarrassment, a damper on the Park name. But you knew from the tinge of fear in your mother's eyes that they were mostly just scared. Scared that they could have lost you.

You swore that you’d never do it again, but it wasn’t enough. So your dad decided the best way to learn would be to take it out of your bank account. The only problem? You were hopelessly broke.

As much as you were embarrassed to admit it, you had always relied on your parents' money. While your friends all held part-time jobs in high school, you would go to the mall, dragging Jay around to buy the newest designer purse or jar of face cream you didn’t need.

And now you were months away from going to college, and after the car situation, your parents made it painfully clear they were done spoiling you. 

So you tried. You tried looking for a job, handing in your meagre resume at fast food places and clothing stores. But no one ever called you back, and you were starting to think you’d be living at home for the rest of your life.

But then, one night, at 12:23 AM, you were staring at your phone, scrolling through Instagram comments, when you saw them: a strand of those sex bots begging for followers.

A light bulb went off in your head like a spotlight, and you looked down at yourself in your oversized shirt and underwear. Why work when your best source of income was right in front of you? Your body.

By 1:00 AM, you had made an OnlyFans account, and by 2:00 AM, you had posted your first video, your skin hot and flushed after touching yourself. You watched as subscribers and tips flooded in, and by the end of the week, you had $200 in your bank account.

It shocked you how easy it was. Play with your tits, do a bit of moaning, and bam, money. 

Men were so easy.

But after a few days, you noticed that one particular account kept popping up in your feed. It always left the biggest tips and was one of the first viewers to pop up on every video. The username was simple, designed like it was meant to blend into the background: zedlover01

You didn’t think much of it; it made sense that people would have favorite creators as they do on any social media site. But you couldn’t help but be curious. Who was he? A 40-year-old man in his mom’s basement? A run-of-the-mill pervert? Or maybe he was like you, a college kid looking for a bit of a thrill.

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, brainstorming ideas to spice up your content, when the front door opened.

Jay’s voice filtered into the room, accompanied by the voices of his annoyingly attractive college friends, Jungwon and Heeseung. 

You’d always crushed on them in that quiet, thrilling way, blushing if they met your eyes too long, stomach fluttering if they said your name a certain way. It helped that they were sweet, especially Heeseung. He’d always ask if you wanted to join whatever game they were playing on the TV, if you wanted a ride somewhere, or if you wanted him to make you an extra ramen packet. Every time, his warm eyes would brush over you like gentle lapping waves on a beach, making your legs feel weak under you.

You wondered how they’d react if they knew what you did in your room every night.

“Hey y/n!” Jungwon said, plopping onto the other couch next to Jay. “How’s the job search?”

You pursed your lips, keeping your expression neutral. Of course, Jay had told them. The day Jay kept a secret from Jungwon would be the day you won the lottery.

“Ok, I’m still looking.”

Heeseung sat on the couch next to you, keeping one cushion spaced between you. “My brother works at the dollar store by the mall. I could ask him to recommend you.” 

His gentle voice swept over you, making you feel strangely relaxed. You smiled politely. “Thanks, Heeseung, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jay snorted from across the room. “y/n wouldn’t be caught dead in a dollar store. Her tastes are way too expensive.”

You glared at him. “That’s not true! Dollar stores are…nice.”

“Have you even been in one before?” Jay asked, his eyebrows raised.

You looked down at your lap. “No…”

Jay smiled. “I rest my case.”

Heeseung chuckled. “It’s ok, y/n, no pressure at all, just thought I’d ask.”

“No, no, I really appreciate it; I’m just…keeping my options open.”

For just a second, something on Heeseung’s face shifted. His eyes narrowed, an almost imperceptible flicker of knowing behind his pupils, as if—just briefly—he could see right through your lie. But then it was gone, and his easy smile returned. “Of course, I understand.”

Pretty soon, the boys had shifted to playing games. Jay pulled up Mario Golf, fitting, since the other unspoken part of your punishment was going to the course with Jay a few times a week. Your parents called it ‘sibling bonding time,’ clearly meant as a way to tame your delinquent brain, as they hoped to have your brother's sense of responsibility rub off on you. (although they didn’t say that last part out loud).

Like always, Heeseung offered you a controller, but you declined, not wanting to embarrass yourself any more times than you could control in front of him. When you played with Jay, you always ended up hitting the ball into the bunker.

The three of them took turns swinging with their Joy-Cons, the room filling with a mix of curses and celebrations as the balls either completely missed the hole or flew straight towards it. 

Heeseung was surprisingly good, and every time he stepped up to swing, your eyes traveled from the flex of his bicep up to the focused intensity in his eyes, his hair falling softly over his forehead.

He’d swing and get his ball right next to the hole, causing Jay to groan and Jungwon’s eyes to widen. Then he’d turn around, a laugh stumbling from his lips as he met your eyes. You would nod at him with an equally giddy smile, finding its way onto your face, and for just a second, you swore his gaze dropped down to your lips.

It was so brief you thought you’d imagined it, but the damage was done, and a swell of heat traveled up your neck as he sat back down next to you, the single cushion between you suddenly feeling way too small.

As you watched Jay and Jungwon take their turns, you realized you were hyperaware of Heeseung’s movements. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing over every time he ran his fingers through his hair or bounced his leg, making the couch tremble under you. You just kept wondering how soft his hair was, or how much you wanted to bounce on his lap…

You inhaled sharply, wiping the image from your mind. This was not the time to be having fantasies about your brother’s best friend. 

But Heeseung noticed. 

His Bambi eyes flicked over your face, watching the way you pursed your lips and shifted in your seat. Even though you felt his gaze like a brand on the side of your face, you didn’t look at him, instead forcing yourself to watch the screen, letting Luigi’s disappointed face distract you from the needy pressure between your legs.

Then, Heeseung stood up for his last turn. He got into position, chest turned towards you, and face tilted towards the screen as he readied his shot. While the others held their breath as they looked at the screen, your gaze lingered on the slight parting of his lips, wondering how they’d taste.

Jay’s voice cut through the room. “Let’s go, zedlover01.”

You watched Heeseung’s entire body go still.

It took a few seconds for the familiarity of the name to click, but when it did, you momentarily stopped breathing.

Slowly, you raised your eyes to Heeseung’s. He had been staring at you, clearly assessing your reaction, but the second he saw the cold shock of realization on your face, he tore his eyes away like your gaze burned him. 

The action alone ruled out any coincidence. 

He glanced at Jay. “Don’t call me that.” 

Jay cocked his head, clearly confused. “But it’s your name; you use it on every game we play.”

“Is Heeseung Hyung embarrassed?” Jungwon said teasingly, noticing the line of red creeping up Heeseung’s neck.

He ducked his head, jaw tight as he looked at the screen. “Just…let me focus.”

The boys went quiet, shooting each other bewildered glances. 

You were staring at your lap, a roar of emotions running through your head that you weren’t sure how to acknowledge. Heeseung—your brother’s best friend, the boy you’d been crushing on for half of your life—had been watching you fall apart in front of a camera for weeks. And not just watching, but paying, obsessing, treating your videos like the newest episodes of his favorite show.

He’d seen you naked, he’d heard your moans, and he’d liked it. 

If Jay ever found out, he’d murder both of you. Heeseung out of anger, and you out of disappointment.

But what Jay thought was the least of your concerns. Because now Heeseung was sitting back down on the couch after he botched his shot, his cheeks the same shade as his pink hair as he scraped his palms up his thighs. 

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, the space between you so thick with tension you thought you could cut it with one of Jay’s specialty knives. You had to escape; you had to get away from him. Just to get one second to catch your breath and process everything away from your brother's watchful gaze. 

So while Jungwon was taking his shot, you moved. You slipped off the couch and headed straight for the bathroom, feeling Heeseung’s eyes on you the entire time. Your surroundings were a blur as you moved through the house, and the second your feet hit smooth tile, you shut the door behind you, leaning your back against it and breathing deeply. 

The sounds of your panting echoed through the large bathroom, the quiet helping to calm the rapid beating in your chest. You closed your eyes, imagining Heeseung’s gentle smile curved into a silent gasp as he watched you touch yourself. You imagined him sitting with his back propped against his headboard, fingers running over his shaft as he listened to you—the girl he’d practically grown up with—fuck herself on her bed. And here he was, talking to you like nothing had changed, even though everything had. 

You cursed as you realized that just thinking about it made you wet.

A familiar, needy heat gathered between your legs, making your finger tremble as you thought about relieving yourself. You couldn’t deny that Heeseung’s face had popped into your mind a few times as you filmed—nothing detailed—just glimpses. Flashes of his hand or his warm smile, sinking into a smirk as he ran his hand up your thigh. 

You forced yourself to your feet, trying to ignore the aching pressure as you splashed some water on your face.

That’s when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

“Hello?” You said.

A soft voice sounded from the other side. “It’s me.” He paused, then added like an afterthought. “Heeseung.”

You sighed. Of course, it was him. You wanted to tell him to go away. To go back to his friends and pretend none of this ever happened. But the way his voice made your panties dampen said otherwise. You dried your face, and before you could stop yourself, you were reaching for the door.

The second you turned the lock, he was slipping inside, closing it behind him with a firm click, his back leaning against the polished wood as he stared at you.

You felt like you were looking at a different person. Gone was the polite smile and the caring eyes, replaced by a firm stare and barely contained desperation. 

“y/n, listen, I found your account by accident, and I didn’t even know it was you until a few days later…” He trailed off, eyes drifting to your lips like they were hypnotizing him. “Then I just couldn’t stop.”

Your breath caught, the ache between your legs pulsing like a reminder.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to, but I didn’t really know how without freaking you out.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

“You aren’t?”

You snorted. “Well…maybe a little. I’m just surprised.”

He sucked in his bottom lip, looking at you shyly. “In a good way?”

The words made your stomach flip. You bit back a smile. “How’d you know it was me?”

Heeseung stepped towards you, fingers twitching at his sides as if he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure he should. He smiled softly. “The Weeknd poster above your bed. The bottom half was showing in one of your videos, and I recognized it instantly.”

Your eyes narrowed, but a smile tugged at your lips. “How do you know I have that poster? Are you sneaking around my room?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Jay went in to grab your hairdryer or something one time, and I might have taken a peek.”

You gasped, putting your hand on his chest and shoving him slightly. “You creep.” But there was no venom in your voice, and you didn’t pull back your hand.

Heeseung looked down at it, his eyes darkening slightly. 

You felt his heartbeat against your palm and could swear it was speeding up with every second. 

His hand drifted up and rested over yours, holding it against his chest. He looked at you, his eyes searching. “When I realized it was you, something…changed.”

You bit your lip, the air in the bathroom humming with the tension. “How so?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the sounds you made in those videos, and wanted nothing more than to be the one causing them.”

You exhaled slowly, unknowingly moving closer to him.

He continued. “When I heard about the accident, I told myself I was giving you money to help you out, but I never skipped a single upload.” Heeseung’s other hand cupped your face, tilting your chin up so you were meeting his eyes. “It’s like you unlocked a part of myself I didn’t know was there, and now that it’s awake…I don’t know if I can ignore it.”

He was so close that your breaths mingled in the air, intertwining like twin flames. The pressure in your core was so intense that you could feel your inhibitions slipping away, fading until the only thought in your head was Heeseung’s lips.

“What if I don’t want you to ignore it?”

Heeseung made a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan, his eyes glassy and dark. “Don’t say what you don’t mean y/n.”

“Heeseung, just kiss me.”

His lips crashed onto yours before you could blink, and just like that, everything vanished. You didn’t think about Jay and Jungwon being in the other room, or what it meant to kiss your brother’s best friend; there was only Heeseung: his mouth, his hands. They roamed over you like they’d been reaching for you as long as they could move, your skin tingling wherever he touched. 

Your lips moved together in a desperate clashing of teeth and tongue, and when his hand found your waist and a soft moan escaped your lips, he swallowed it, enveloping your mouth under his with claiming intensity. 

He moved you until your back hit the sink, and braced himself against the counter with one hand while the other moved up to tangle in your hair. Heeseung kissed you like he was sick, and your lips were the antidote, smiling as you moaned into his mouth. 

He pulled back to bury his head in your neck. “Your sounds are so beautiful, baby. I never want them to stop.”

“Heeseung!” You gasped. The coil of heat between your legs was twisted so tight you wanted to cry. It wasn’t a question anymore. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Heeseung, please, need you inside me.”

You felt him still against your neck, and he leaned back to press his forehead against yours, eyes glazed as he panted. “Are you sure? Once I start, I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.”

You nodded, channeling every bit of need into your voice you could muster. “I’m sure, Hee, it hurts so bad.”

He smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Ok, baby, I’ll help you; don’t worry.” He tugged at the zipper on his jeans, groaning as his erection sprang free, a drop of pre-cum already gathering at the tip.

Your eyes widened at his size, and just the image of him filling you up made you whimper. 

Heeseung’s hands found your waistband, pulling down your shorts and panties in one fluid motion. He cursed when he saw your glistening lips, already soaking wet and aching for him. 

“How long have you been like this?” He breathed.

“All day. The second you walked in the door, I was wet for you.”

“Fuck.” He hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you onto the counter, your bare ass hitting the cold surface, sending a shock up your spine. He gripped your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. “As much as I love hearing you, you need to be quiet ok? If your brother hears us, we’re dead.”

You ran your hands up his chest, the pressure so dizzying you could barely hear him. But somehow, you choked out a yes, and finally, torturously, he aligned himself with your entrance.

When he pushed into you, you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from moaning. You buried your face in his neck, taking in air in shallow gasps as you fought to stay quiet. The way he filled you was agonizingly good, eons better than using your own fingers on camera. You had no words to describe it, nothing to say except his name as you murmured it into his ear over and over again: “Heeseung, Heeseung, Heeseung…”

When he finally bottomed out, he stopped and sighed, breathing in time with you as he brushed sweaty strands of hair out of your face. “Still ok?”

“Yes.” You breathed, “more than ok.” You tangled one of your hands in his pink hair, pulling him into a messy kiss as your hips trembled under his grasp.

He groaned, melting into your touch, and as his tongue slipped into your mouth, he moved. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t testing; it was brutal. 

Heeseung pulled out almost fully before slamming back into you. You couldn’t stop a choked sob from ripping out of your throat, but he was ready. He put his hand behind your neck and kissed you hard, creating a sealed chamber with your mouths that muffled every sound. He moved against you mercilessly, the friction of his shaft scraping against your walls so overwhelming you thought you were going to pass out.

You clutched at his shoulders, feeling the lean muscle flex under your fingers as you searched for something to ground you. He moaned as your thumb drifted over his nape, sending a fresh wave of pleasure down your back.

Somehow, you were being quiet, with your muffled moans mostly drowned out by the slapping of skin and the squelch of your juices around his cock. 

But you weren’t done, the coil in your core still being twisted to its limit. You hooked your legs around his back and pulled him closer, causing both of you to groan into each other's mouths as the angle deepened. 

You could feel Heeseung’s thrusts getting shaky, his breathing more ragged, and you knew he was close. You began to grind against him in tune with his thrusts, your bodies rocking against each other in a filthy image.

Heeseung’s groans turned into desperate whimpers as you rocked against him, and you disconnected your lips as his thrusts became a rapid chase, both of you breathing hard as you held on to each other.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He said, his eyes wide and wrecked. “Like you were made for me.”

You were too far gone for words and were halfway through saying his name when your orgasm swept over you. It was like the breaking of a dam, a rush of wetness dripping between your legs as your walls clamped down with a sudden snap.

Heeseung buried his face in your neck to muffle his moan as he came apart after you, his back spasming as you milked him dry. You held onto him through it, kissing his sweaty neck as your bodies trembled and twitched together, still connected as a sticky mess tumbled down between you.

His hands braced the counter around you as his breathing slowed, and for a few seconds, you stayed there, existing in the moment when you’d crossed the line and become as close as your bodies allowed. 

Then Heeseung pulled out of you, exhaling sharply as he left the warmth of your walls. Without a word, he grabbed some toilet paper and started cleaning you, his soft hands brushing down your thighs as he sopped up every drop of his cum. 

When he was done, he stepped between your still-open legs and kissed you. This time, the kiss was gentle and sweet, full of possibilities and an uncertain future. You felt a stirring in your gut, but it wasn’t arousal; it was excitement. Anticipation for a relationship you had yet to consider, and a life that now felt more livable with Heeseung in it. 

Suddenly, nothing felt impossible.

He smiled as he pulled back, eyes tracing your face like he was trying to memorize it. “Would it be bad if I said I’m glad you messed up your parents' car?”

You laughed. “Maybe a little?”

He kissed your nose. “Even if it led me to you?”

“I’ve always been here, Hee.”

“But you weren’t mine.”

You smiled, studying the face of the boy who’d always been familiar but now felt like home. “Is that dollar store job still on the table?”

He tilted his head, a strand of hair falling over his eye. “You actually want it?”

“Well, I can’t really keep doing OnlyFans…”

Heeseung leaned into your arms, burying his head in your chest and wrapping his arms around your lower back. You could feel his grin against your shirt. “I’ll call my brother tomorrow.”

You giggled and stroked his hair, letting the moment sink over you like the heat of the sun on a chilly day. 

There was only one problem: How the hell were you going to tell Jay?

Taglist: @kristynaaah

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[missyangkim]

CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE ONE OF DADA HEE IM MOURNING FOR HIM😩😩😩

HEREE IK U LIKE THEM SUBBY

-HEESEUNG AUDIO

warning!nsfw

MDNI!!! please stay innocent.

overstimulating subby heeseung after he begged you to not have sex.

missyangkim’s note- oh he the fire fr. i acc hate when ppl call him evan LIKE NO IT’S HEESEUNG #BRINGMEOURDADABACK ALSO TY FOR 1.2K FOLLOWERS