“C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and raspy. One big hand slides up, cups the back of your ass and pulls— not rough, but firm enough that your knees buckle a little.
You straddle his chest first, heart hammering so loud you’re sure he can feel it through your skin.
His palms are warm— so damn warm and calloused, they drag slowly up the backs of your thighs until his thumbs are brushing the crease where thigh meets ass.
“Higher,” he demands.
You hesitate half a second, mostly because looking down at him like this, makes your brain fuzzy. But then he gives a tiny impatient tug and you scoot up, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his head.
The first brush of his mouth against your inner thigh is teasing. Just lips. No tongue yet, enough to make your hips twitch forward involuntarily.
“Hoon—”
He nips the sensitive skin, hard enough to make you gasp. “You said you wanted to sit on my face, baby. So sit.”
Your face burns. “I— I don’t wanna suffocate you.”
He laughs, that quiet, breathy chuckle that always hits you straight between the legs. His hands clamp down on your hips, yanking you forward until your pussy is hovering right over his mouth. So close you can feel the heat of every exhale against your clit. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. You’re gonna give me what I want.”
And then he pulls.
Hard.
Your knees give out and you drop straight down until your slick folds meet his waiting tongue.
The first real lick is obscene. Flat, slow, dragging from your entrance all the way up to your clit like he’s savoring every inch. You choke on a moan, hands flying to the headboard to keep from collapsing completely.
He groans against you, the sound vibrating right through your core— and that’s it. Any embarrassment you had evaporates. You grind down instinctively, chasing more of that wet heat, more of the way his tongue curls and flicks and presses inside like he’s trying to drink you whole.
“Fuck— just like that,” you whimper, hips rolling in sloppy little circles.
Sunghoon’s grip tightens. Bruising. Possessive. One hand slides up to spread you open wider with his fingers so he can suck your clit into his mouth properly.
You’re riding his face now. No more hovering. Full weight. Smearing yourself across his lips, his chin, the sharp bridge of his perfect nose. Every time you grind forward his tongue spears inside you; lapping messily at your clit like he’s starved.
He’s noisy about it too; wet, filthy sounds that should be embarrassing but only make you wetter. Little hums of approval every time you clench around nothing. Every time your thighs start shaking he doubles down, sucking harder, tongue flicking faster, until you’re practically sobbing.
“Sunghoon— oh god— gonna—”
Doesn’t give you a second to breathe. Just locks both arms around your thighs, pins you down, and eats like a man who’s been denied his favorite meal for too long.
You cum so hard your whole body locks up, back arching, fingers digging into the headboard, thighs clamping around his ears.
He keeps licking through it, slower now, lazy drags that drag the aftershocks out until you’re trembling and oversensitive and whining for him to stop (but also not really wanting him to stop).
When you finally collapse forward, boneless, he gives one last soft, almost sweet lick before letting his head fall back against the pillow.
His face is wrecked. Lips swollen, chin glistening, eyes heavy with satisfaction. He licks his lips slowly, committing the taste to memory.
“Still think you’re gonna suffocate me?” he rasps, breathing ragged.
You can barely speak. “Shut up.”
He grins, that cocky, boyish, devastating grin, and pats your ass twice.
: ¨·.·¨ : ⌕ jake x gn! reader ≧ᗜ≦ [☆] w✿rning desperate jake, reader is LOWKEY evil, sex jokes, cursing, insults, ragebaiting, crazy ass dynamic, hinted innappropriate stuff in last ss ��
───── REPLIES&REBLOGS=LOVE ����
[Ignore timestamps and percentage!!]
(क) toxic dynamics but in a crack way....👀😉😏🤣😂🥺😖 i thot this was fun i haven't seen any crack with a...virulent... realationship ?? Lmao son i was FRYINGGG making this poor jake someone save this poor baby (he's RIGHT where he wants to be ......) man idk peace and lust someone's gonna try sleeping now honk shoo mimimi 🥺🥺🥺😴😴 is it corny or is it me feeling that way oh well to be cringe is to be free <3
contents. Semi public (they’re in his room but the members are outside), praise, degradation (kinda slut shaming ig…?) anal plug, anal, breeding.
a/n. Another word vomit, this isnt proof read 😔
“Come on, don't be like that.” Sunghoon says, pulling you closer to him, his hand holding onto your hip. “You know I can't keep my hands off you.” He plants a kiss on your shoulder, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Baby we can't- the guys are here.” Sunghoon hums against your neck, unbothered, his hand slipping slightly beneath your shirt. “I know… that’s what makes it fun.” His voice drops, teasing — low and warm like honeyed smoke. “Don’t worry… we’ll be quiet. Now be a good girl and let me take care of you.” You almost whine, Sunghoon had coaxed you into wearing the pretty plug before you left for his dorms, promising you none of his bandmates would be there by the time you’d arrive.
Sunghoon chuckles softly at your reaction, and continues to kiss and nip at your neck, his other hand slipping beneath your shirt, gently tracing the soft skin of your abdomen. “You're being awfully compliant…” He murmurs against your skin teasingly. “Do you want me to stop you?” You ask, the bite in your answer evaporating on the tip of your tongue as Sunghoon’s kisses turn sloppy on your skin, sucking and biting down on the soft expense of your neck and shoulder. Sunghoon chuckles and bites down hard on a sensitive spot on your neck, letting the mark redden as he speaks. “No. Not like I’d stop anyway.” He replies in that low, dark tone, continuing to pepper kisses along your throat and jawline. You sign softly against him, back arching to meet his already hard cock. He groans softly, the sound rumbling in the back of his throat as he pulls you tighter against him, his hand gripping your hip almost possessively. “That's it, baby…” He murmurs against your ear, his lips moving back down to your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. “Be a good girl and show me just how much you want me.”
You whine out his name softly, his right hand coming up to your chest to pinch and tug your pebbled nipples. Sunghoon moans softly at the way you say his name, his fingers lightly grazing over your swollen nipple again, making you shiver against him. “Yeah, that's right… say it again…” He husks slowly in your ear, his teeth nipping lightly at your earlobe. His hands trails downwards to push my panties to the side. Sunghoon lets out a string of curses against your neck as he feels how wet you are… and he's barely even touched you yet. “God, you're so perfect…” He murmurs, his voice still low and gravelly, but his words still soft, and full of affection. He sucks in a breath and moves behind you, distancing himself just enough to free his aching cock. His hand – big, the palm of it rough and calloused – grips your ass, spreading you open for him. It dips lower, before he gently pulls on the plug. You mewl against the pillow, muffling your needy moans.
You can almost feel the smirk Sunghoon is currently wearing on his handsome face. His body trembles with the effort of holding back, before he gently pulls out the plug, tossing it somewhere on the bed. “God, I'm going to fucking destroy you.” Sunghoon breathes out, the words full of a mix of reverence and an almost feral possessiveness. He moves to prop himself up on his elbow, opening his nightstand drawer for lube. “Turn onto your tummy for me baby.” You roll onto your stomach as he opens the bottle, squirting some lube onto his hardened length. Sunghoon lets out a low, approving hum as he positions himself behind you, one hand splayed on your lower back, gently pressing you down while the other guides himself at your entrance. “So pretty for me baby..” His voice is strained, almost pained with restraint. He pushes in just slightly — a teasing inch — then pulls back, repeating it like a promise laced with torture. “Tell me if it’s too much…” He murmurs against your ear, pushing the first few inches in. Your reaction is almost immediate, eyes rolling back and whimpers muffled by his pillow. “S-Sunghoon-” He groans at the tightness of your hole and at the sound of your voice, wrecked and muffled in the pillow. “Say it again” He demands, voice raw, thrusting forward just a little deeper, stretching you with agonizing slowness. “Come on pretty.” He pants “Say my name again.” His hand slips under your body, finding your clit with deliberate precision. “Or should I make you scream it instead? Mhm? Let everyone hear how much of a slut you are?” You gasp and let out a particularly loud moan at the sudden stimulation, wet cunt clenching and gushing helplessly around nothing as your other hole desperately tries to accommodate him. “Fuck- shit- baby wait wait wait-”
Sunghoon freezes at the sudden clench, his breath coming out in a ragged hiss — so tight, and you're not even fully taking him. He lets out a low groan. “Shh... I've got you.” He murmurs, voice thick with restraint, pressing soothing circles into your hip with his thumb. “Breathe for me, baby. Just breathe.” He leans down to kiss the curve of your shoulder. His hips roll forward again — gentle this time. “Come on pretty. Let me in.” You moan softly, hole stretching further as you take more of him. He nips gently at your earlobe, his hand on your hip tightening slightly, keeping you still. Sunghoon feels the tremble running through your body. “Can you take it, sweet girl?” You nod, raising yourself on your elbows, sunghoon’s lips tracing a line of kisses along your shoulder, his voice rough, but filled with a dark sweetness. “That's my girl. Always so eager for more.”
His hips roll softly, deeper this time, filling you just enough to leave you gasping around his name. “Sunghoon please” You whine under him. Sunghoon groans, the soft whine going directly to his already aching length. With one smooth, deep thrust, he buries himself completely inside you, his hips snapping forward as your body clenches around him. The friction from the bed on your clit has you mewling into the pillow — a trembling mess of pleasure. He leans down, biting your shoulder gently — not enough to mark in front of his friends — but enough to give you the sweet rush of pain and pleasure. “You’re so damn tight… my good girl.” He rasps between shallow breaths. “Take every inch like you were made for me.” You clench around him, lips parted, mewls and whimper falling from your lips. Sunghoon's hand snakes around your face, to cover your mouth, his teeth grazing your ear as he whispers. “Be a good girl and keep quiet. I don't want them to hear your pretty little sounds.” A string of moans fall from your lips as you nod mindlessly – anything for him to keep going. “Good girl.” Sunghoon breathes, his hand stays over your mouth, his hips moving with slow, deliberate thrusts — deep and controlled, each one drawing out muffled whimpers from you.
His hand slips under you again, finding your clit with that same maddening precision. “Let me feel how much you want this… all for me.” The bed creaks faintly beneath you — too loud in the quiet dorms — but he doesn’t stop. He can’t. You’re too perfect, too tight and it feels too good. “So greedy.” He murmurs. “Clenching around me like you'll never let go…” You sob against his hand, already so close to the edge. Sunghoon grins before you, leaning down to kiss your jaw, his teeth grazing your neck. He can feel it, he knows he's got you on edge. “You’re close pretty?” His lips find your ear, his words a low tease, his touch still too gentle, too calculated, just enough to keep you there for him a little longer. You nod, almost sobbing at the feeling – his length in your whole, his fingers on your clit, your cunt helplessly gushing around nothing.
“Not yet.” He murmurs, feeling your body trembling on the edge. “Hold it for me, just a little bit longer. You can do that for me, can't you?” You nod and he pulls out, removing his hand from your mouth only to slam into your drenched heat. You sob at the unexpected intrusion, back arching, wet cunt clenching around him. Sunghoon curses at the feeling, head thrown back. “That's it… take every inch.” He growls, the sharp thrust pulling a broken moan from your throat — one you bury into the pillow. He leans down, lips brushing your ear again, voice rough with possession “You’re so wet for me… you wanted this all day didn't you? While we were with my friends? While I looked at you across the table?” Another deep slam — your walls flutter around him. “Say it. Tell me you’ve been thinking about this cock all night.” You slowly raise your head from the pillow, whimpering. “I’ve- I’ve been thinking about your cock all day.” You slur, trying so hard not to be too loud, not to alert his bandmates of what you two are up to. “Sunghoon please-” You sob. “My pretty girl… so good... so honest.” He praises, his voice dark velvet against your ear. He picks up pace — still controlled, but harder now, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. His hand stays on your hip, grounding you as the other fists your hair, forcing it down on the mattress. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy gush around me."
You let out a broken whimper of relief and pleasure, shattering around him, moan muffled in the pillow, heat wrapped around him like vice, milking him for all his worth. Sunghoon growls at the feel of you clenching around him — tight, hot, pulsing — and he can’t hold back any longer. His hips stutter forward as he chases his own release, burying himself deep inside you with a low groan. “Good fucking girl…” he breathes against your neck, teeth grazing your shoulder as he spills into you. “Taking me so fucking well…”
"mnh- jungwon.." you whimper, grip on his dark hair tightening as you tug at his strands.
jungwon keeps his head firmly between your legs, hands wrapped around your thighs, spreading you open, eyes shut tight in concentration.
his tongue licks a stripe up from your hole and laps at your clit, over and over and over again, his tongue fucking your taunted entrance occasionally.
he lets outs and small groan every now and then, the vibration going through your bare, sweat slicked body, and right back to your core. you let out a small whimper.
"mm, louder baby. want the others to hear how good i'm making you feel." jungwon mumbles through his efforts to help you reach your climax.
an involuntary moan - louder than expected - slips pasts your lips. the thought of his group members being just a couple rooms away spurred you on for some sick reason.
jungwon smiles against your pussy, face dangerously close to being suffocated between your thighs if it weren't for his hands holding them apart.
"good girl."
jungwon picks up his pace instantly, tongue fucking in and out of you as the pressure built.
you throw your head back, neck exposed and glistening in the dim light of his dorm.
jungwon's eyes flick up, brown orbs glossy with determination. he groans again, this time unreservedly, the heat coursing through his own body, intensifying to the point of it being unignorable.
his hips begin to grind on the mattress, desperately trying to relieve his surging need for you.
you try to lift your hips as you near your orgasm, but jungwon presses his fingertips deeper into the plush skin of your inner thigh, instead pushing his tongue deeper in you, his nose bumping against your slightly swollen clit.
"mmh! fuck- won!"
the knot that he spent the last 30 minutes building finally snapped, the pleasure rushing through you and gushing out onto jungwon's inviting tongue.
he quickly lapped up your sweet juices then buried his face in the mattress.
as you settled down from the aftershocks, you noticed jungwon's now frantic rutting on the bed. he let out barely audible whimpers, hips twitching with the anticipation of release.
you run your hands through his hair softly, a stark contrast to the rough pulling earlier.
"did so good f'me, won.. be a good boy and cum."
your praise did it for him. he finished with a loud groan - which was luckily muffled by the bed sheets. his dick shot out hot ropes of cum inside his pants, dampening his boxers and grey sweats.
"mm.. fuck.." he huffs.
jungwon flips onto his back and you shuffle up to lean on the headboard. he quickly follows suit, sliding in beside you and wrapping an arm around your waist.
"god, you're so beautiful.." his nose nudges the side of your neck and he inhales deeply. "so perfect.. so perfect." he murmurs, sleepiness rasping his voice.
"let's go get cleaned up, baby." he nods but refuses to move off of you.
"in a second, love.."
an: umm hi??? first post kinda nervous 😓😓 idk i was bored and wrote this. accepting reqs!!
you two have been best friends for so long people stopped asking questions.
yang jungwon is safe. yang jungwon is comfortable. jungwon is the type of person to carry your bag with no complaints, who always makes sure he walks beside the road on the sidewalk whenever you two are together. hell this is the guy who lets you steal his hoodies without complaint, even willingly giving you his spare ones when he has the chance, never asking for them back.
which is why it is completely unfair for jungwon to have a back like that.
broad. straight. solid in a way that made him look buff and big, like he could hold up a collapsing building all by himself.
you never meant for it to become a thing.
at first it was accidentalㅡunintentional picture of his back when he was walking in front of you, hoodie stretched just enough across his shoulder.
then another.
then a few more, especially when he wasn’t looking. group pics, trips together, when he sat in front of you at class, late-night convenience store runs.
somehow, you took so many that an album magically appeared in your gallery specifically for it.
you named it something stupid.
backshots.
jungwon found it by accident.
you two were sprawled on the living room floor, the tv emitting a faint sound as the two of you minded your own business. jungwon had your phone in his hands, on a strict mission to find an old video you two filmedㅡthat he wants to watch again for some reason.
until his thumb paused.
“..what’s this album?”
you froze. shit.
“don’t open that.”
that was the worst possible answer ever.
jungwon opened it.
the silence becomes heavier than ever.
photo after photo welcomed himㅡpictures of his back. sitting, standing, walking, laughing with his head back. shoulders wide and unguarded. some blurry, some sharp. some looked intentional.
jungwon raised his brows, clearly amused.
then he slowly looked at you.
“..is this,” he said carefully, “an entire album of my back?”
your ears burned, snatching your phone back. “ok conan, you’ve discovered my secret, haha, great. now drop it.”
you expected him to laugh, but you received nothing.
and that scared you more than anything.
“i asked you a question.”
you glared at his direction, “it’s notㅡwell it’s, ok it isㅡbut it’s not weird!”
“how long?” he asked.
“...a while.”
jungwon leaned back against the couch, legs spreading more than it did earlier. his jaw tightenedㅡnot angry. but something else. something restrained.
“let’s address the elephant in the living room. why do you even have those?”
you stared at him. and the words came out before you can even comprehend.
“i wanna scratch your back.”
he smirked, brows raised.
“you wanna what?”
you groaned, hands finding its way to your hair. “you know! likeㅡlike a cat! it’s not a thing. your back is just… scratchable?”
for a second he just stares at you.
then he laughsㅡsoft, light, amused.
“you’re actually unbelievable.”
“but you know!” you said quickly. “we’ve been best friends for so long, won. best friends are off limits and i understand that. don’t make it weird, okay?”
jungwon scoffed softly.
“you made an album solely for my back,” he said. “and you named it backshots.”
“that doesn’t mean anything!”
he exhales, then turns around.
your breath hitches.
“one,” he gestures, shrugging his shoulders. “through the hoodie, then you drop it.”
your eyes widen. “you’re serious?”
“five seconds,” he mutters. “then we pretend this never happened.”
your hand hovers over his back.
then, slowly and carefully, you drag your nails over the fabric of his hoodie.
jungwon freezes.
you pulled your hand back, cautious. “sorry! i told you this was a bad idea.”
he turns around slowly.
his ears are visibly red.
his expression no longer amused.
“see, this is why that rule exists.”
you swallow. “the best friend rule?”
“yeah,” he nods, agreeing. “because if you scratch my back again thenㅡ”
he stops himself.
and when he steps closer, you felt itㅡthe shift. the air thickening. jungwon stepped closer, close enough for you to tilt your head up so you could see him clearly. close enough to see how broad his shoulders looked from the front too.
“so let me get this straight,” he said quietly. “you’ve been looking at me like that, saving photos of me, noticing thingsㅡand i’m supposed to not notice you noticing?”
your heart slammed against your ribs.
“i told you, we’re best friends,” you whispered.
jungwon’s gaze droppedㅡjust brieflyㅡto where your fingers are slowly fidgeting the fabric of his hoodie.
“and i’m not having it,” he replied.
not touching you.
not crossing the line.
just standing there, impossibly close.
“either we stop lying,” jungwon said, “or you delete the album.”
you pursed your lips, finding the courage to look up at him.
“and if i don’t?”
a slow, dangerous smile adorned his face.
“then stop saying that i’m off-limits,” he murmured. “because you’re the one who crossed the line first.”
silence.
unbroken.
and for the first time, the rule felt less like protection, but rather a countdown.
“you wanna scratch me again? without the hoodie this time?”
synopsis: you never thought you’d find love one day but since you’ve been dating this australian guy, you slowly start to realize that love like this could exist and not only in the movies you’ve used to watch
pairing: non idol jake x female reader
type: fluff and super wholesome
word count: around 3.39K of words
warnings: kisses, mention of nickname (babe, baby, princess, angel), lot of cuteness, a little mention of sex (good piece of “meat”)… I think thats all? lmk if there's more!
author’s note: thank you @kissued and @dollhoonki for letting me write the prompt #3 of your valentine’s day event! loved writing this little imagine and thank you for trusting me with it! 🥹
Your whole dating life had been a complete mess.
Either it was them declining your invitations or you realizing they were being completely cowards during the very first date, nothing was actually coming out of it and honestly, you were starting to feel a bit desperate if you had to be honest.
It was messing with your head to see happy couples holding hands by walking down the street, seeing them kissing and being lovey-dovey right in front of you with all the PDA included, but mostly seeing all the pink and red aisles in the supermarkets filled with chocolates and gifts for couples that you knew you probably wouldn’t even buy soon was making you feel a bit sad to be honest.
Of course, you liked to be single. You liked having your own peace, not being stressed about what to give them for their anniversary but mostly not sharing your king-sized super comfy bed with someone else with you was one of the best pros of being single. You liked that, truly did. At least… that’s what you were saying to your friends when they asked you if you were ready to finally meet someone else.
Filling that void was pretty easy. Who knew romantic books and movies could help you so much? Whenever you had any bad feelings (or just because you wanted to), the TV was on with your favourite movie of all time with chocolates on the side and a big glass of your favourite drink too. Heaven, right? Who wouldn’t like that? It was girls’ night every night with no one to ever disturb your peace.
At least that’s what you would have continued to do if you hadn’t met Jake. Now everything is fully different.
You’ve met him in school. Not because he bumped into you and suddenly all of your papers got mixed together and it was love at first sight like every movie you had watched in your life. You two actually met because of your bad sense of organization: you were late for your class, didn’t think to look at your class numbers, came in, sat next to him and started listening and panicking because you couldn’t understand a single thing. Turns out, you were in the wrong class all this time and that you’ve spent 2h of your life listening to a teacher talking about physics formulas and working with a guy on a project that you couldn’t even understand a single thing about. Before leaving the class to, hopefully, go in the right one this time, the guy next to you gave you his number and the rest is history.
Since October, the month when you both started dating, everything seemed so easier with him in your life. He was a true gentleman, like the ones you’ve seen in your films, always holding the door for you, always making you feel better when things were difficult, always picking you up after your shifts and always making sure your car was never out of gas. Your lunchbox was always filled with some notes of his writing affirmations for you or him saying “I love you”. He never rushed you, always made sure you were safe and comfy and that you were not lacking anything. This man was head over heels for you. Not only that, this man could sing and dance to the point that he could have been a musician in his other life.
His talking about physics was probably one of the sexiest things on Earth. You didn’t understand a single thing, but you could see the glow in his eyes while he was talking about it. He knew you weren’t understanding, but he appreciated you listening to him and nodding even if you were probably not even hearing a single thing.
Not only did he have an amazing personality, but he also had an amazing appearance. This man was so hot. So so hot. He had elegant black hair, pinky pretty lips, a cute little nose and his brown eyes were probably your favourite features of him. He had a killing smile and not only that, an amazing laugh. His laugh and his voice were so soft yet so comforting at the same time.
Today was Valentine’s day and as usual for the last few months, you both decided to do a home date. Both of you guys liked home dates rather than going out (even though you guys still liked to go out from time to time) and for your first Valentine’s day together, you guys decided to cook a meal together, watch a not-so-awful movie and finish it with playing board games. Was it too boring? Probably for some people, but for you and him, it was perfect.
Focused on finishing to clean your apartment, you heard a doorbell ring, meaning someone pressed the button to let you know they arrived, and smiled to yourself.
“Who is it?” you asked into the microphone as if you didn’t know any better.
“Your handsome man, babe” the voice replied.
Giggling to yourself, you let him in and waited for him to come into the building. Watching him from afar with one eye in your mid-open door, you saw him going upstairs. He was serious, had a remarkable outfit (like always) consisting of a white tank top that you liked so much paired with a red and white jacket on top to hide his shoulders. He also paired that with one of your fav pair of jeans he knew you liked: a pastel pink. He also had a yellowish kind of belt which was perfectly paired with the whole outfit. On top of that, he had silver accessories like a bracelet and necklaces to pair and style his whole outfit. His hair was a bit messy, but it was a hot messy hair mess that he knew you liked. He cared a lot about his appearance, but when he knew you liked a style of his or an outfit, he always made sure to put them all together once in a while. He knew you found him hot. He knew he was hot. He liked teasing you just by doing simple things like that because to him, your smile was the highlight of his day, of his week, of his month, maybe even his year. Your smile was his favourite feature of him and you knew it. “Your smile will kill me, one day” he kept saying.
Once he made eye contact with you, a big smile appeared on his smile and you could easily see his eyes smiling too. He had a little blush over his face and due to him not being able to look away, he almost skipped the first step of your doorstep to your apartment door.
“See what you’re doing to me baby? I almost fell for you” he teased you giggled and approached you.
“Thought you already did” you replied.
“Let me be smooth, okay? It doesn’t have to make sense” Jake giggled and kissed you softy.
It was a long, soft kiss and even if your neighbours knew about Jake and the fact that his car was constantly in the parking area, them overhearing you in the echo of your apartment stairs wasn’t something you exactly wanted.
“Hey angel” he said while putting his forehead against yours.
“Hey babe” you replied. “Missed you”
He chuckled. “Missed you more, baby. Can I come in?”
You nodded and let him come in. The fresh scent of the cleaning apartment was so great.
“Smell good.”
“Really?” you asked. “I did some cleaning earlier, that’s probably why”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s you who’s smelling good like that. Wait let me…”
While smelling you, he softly smiled and chuckled. His hand came directly close to his mouth as if he was hiding the fact that he was giggling just because of your smell.
“Ohh you smell so good, my love. Is it a new shampoo?”
You nodded.
“Imma steal this one too” he teased. “Mine doesn’t smell like that at all. You smell like heaven”
You rolled your eyes teasingly while smiling and looked at his hands. His hands were full.
In his left hand, he had your fav flowers from your favourite flower shop, which was very far away from both of your apartments. You had one close to you, but weirdly, they didn’t have your favourite blossoms. Your preferred flower was a specific kind and when you told Jake about it, you thought he wouldn’t even care. You quickly found yourself dumb at the very beginning of your relationship when you first saw him with him holding the bouquet of your favourites. He made the effort to find them even if they were unusual.
In his right hand, he had a little box wrapped in pink glittery paper with, on the top, a big and beautiful red ribbon decorating the package. Not only that, he had a cute little card, that seemed to be home-made, and you swear that your heart did a little jump when you first saw this.
“These are for you, baby” he softly said while giving you your flowers. Noticing the little card coming with the blooms, you softly read it outloud, still smiling to yourself.
“For my precious angel whom I love so much, these flowers are for you. Happy first but certainly not the last Valentine’s day to us.” you read. You couldn’t stop smiling. He was so precious. He is so precious. “Thank you baby, I really appreciate it. They are so beautiful,” you added while going for a hug.
Accepting the hug, Jake put his arms over you and his head against yours and smiled. “Of course. You deserve these. And so much more, actually.” He kissed the top of your head. “I wanted to find the most beautiful flowers for the most beautiful girl and I think I succeeded…”. Seeing you weren’t replying, he chuckled, already knowing your answers. “I’ll let you open the gift after dinner with the card.”
You nodded and let go of the hug. He put the gift on the table and smiled. “So… What are we making tonight?”
You shrugged. “I’m up for everything, but I kind of wanna do something special tonight.”
“Steak?” He asked. “I think you had some frozen, right?”. While nodding, you took it out of the freezer and smiled to yourself. “You and your steak’s love.”
He rolled his eyes teasingly and sat in front of you and the aisle. “Love a good steak. Don’t you love a good piece of meat?” He softly winked.
You laughed and looked at him. “There’s no way you just said that!”
He put his arms in the air and laughed along with you. “What? Am I lying? Steak is great!”
You smirked while laughing and started to preheat the oven to the required temperature. “You wanna help me make home-made potatoes? We could try to do the recipe I sent you two weeks ago.”
He nodded and got up from his chair, washed his hands and started to put on an apron. “Okay, let’s start! What’s the first step?”
You took some potatoes and showed them to Jake. “We gotta wash them first!” He quickly started to wash them but then stopped. “Mind if I put some music on, my love?”. Without replying, you gave him your phone connected to your Bluetooth speaker and let him decide to choose the music that would play in the background.
Quickly, some romantic love songs from the 60-70s years started to play. He was feeling romantic tonight and you knew it.
“There ya go!” Jake said. “They should be ready in 20 minutes”
He quickly closed the oven door and looked at you. “Sooo”
You turned your head like a dog and frowned a bit. “So?”
He looked at the ceiling for a second and smiled. “You wanna open your present?”
“Can you open mine first?” you asked to which he nodded.
After bringing your own gift to him, he smiled “Two?! Baby, what?”
You shrugged while smiling to yourself. “What? Can’t I spoil my boyfriend?” to which he nodded and started reading your letter outloud. “To my man who always been supporting me, understanding me, spoiling me and loving me for the last few months. I love you from the bottom of my heart and I couldn’t be happier to spend Valentine’s Day with you. Thanks for everything and I hope you know I’ll always be there for you no matter what. Happy Valentine my love. Love you to the stars and back”
While putting his hand on his heart with two fingers holding the card, his mouth became a pout. “Aww baby, thank you so much. I appreciate it and you so much. You’re the best, thank you!” He quickly hugged you and kissed you. “Just knowing you is enough, you didn’t have to offer me gifts. Especially two.”
You shrugged again and smiled. “Okay, open your gifts now!”. He quickly started to unwrap and to his biggest surprise, he found two vinyls of his two favourite artists: Justin Bieber and Post Malone. You knew Jake liked these two artists for their incredible music and even if they were a bit pricey for your wallet at the moment, seeing him smile made it worth it. You always liked giving gifts and never really minded about the price, but this time… It made you remember why you bought these and why you decided to go with the deluxe version rather than the original version.
“Baby! Is it really their vinyls?”. His eyes were widden and he couldn’t stop smiling. “They’re the deluxe versions too?! Babe, are you crazy? Omg, what, Is this real?!”
He couldn’t stop smiling. He quickly got up to you and hugged you and kissed you. “Oh baby, I’m so happy, thank you so much. You’re truly the best”. “Thanks baby. I’m glad you like them. I didn’t know which one you liked the most so I decided to go with both just in case.” He nodded. “You’re so crazy, my love. Aaah thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you. Only one would have been enough, but thank you for these two beautiful vinyls. We should do a date where we listen to them together!”
You nodded. They weren’t your favourite artists, but you trusted Jake with his music taste. “Thank you so much, baby.” He kissed you softly. “Now, open mine! But before… Read this out loud”
“Dear Y/N… Wait that sounds wrong.. Dear angel… Thank you for being a part of my life, for being the moon to my sun, for being the rainbow after my rain, for being you and truly you and for always supporting me in everything I do. Thank you for always showing me care, for showing me compassion and patience when I do the weirdest things, but mostly, thank you for showing me love.” You said while almost tearing up. You looked at Jake who looked at you with his head in his hand while smiling. “Keep reading baby”
“You’re probably my second favourite girl in the world (my mom being the first) so don’t tell Layla I said that, okay?” You softly laughed while keeping reading his love letter. “I know we’re still new, but I wanted to give you this little present to show you how much I love and care about you. I’ll never forget the day and how we met and I thank God for your bad sense of organization. Thank you for everything and I hope this Valentine’s Day will be as sweet as you are to me. I love you to the moon and back. Signed Jake”.
After reading that, some tears escaped from your eyes to which you smiled. You loved him and the way he made you feel. Softly wiping your tears with his fingers, he grinned. Even if you were crying, he still found you the most beautiful girl in the whole world.
“Thank you so much baby for this letter. I don’t have any words to express how grateful I am to have met you and to have you in my life”. You guys started kissing, his hands going from your face to your waist, smiling between the kisses and putting his forehead against yours. “I love you sweetheart. Now… Open your gift.”
You quickly untied the red ribbon at the top and started unwrapping the pink glittery wrapping papers. After throwing away the paper on the floor, you found a little turquoise box and already knew what it was.
“Shut up!”
“I wasn’t even talking…” he teased you
“Baby, why did you give me Tiffany & CO? It’s so-”. He quickly interrupted you and smiled. “Eh, I saved some money for that since the latest few months. I wanted to spoil you. Can’t a guy spoil his wonderful girlfriend for Valentine’s day?” You guys kissed again and he softly looked at you. “Open the box, princess.” To which you did and saw the most stunning bracelet you’ve ever seen. It was the same one he was wearing on his right arm. Your heart felt like jumping up and down in your chest and you felt a billion butterflies flying away in your stomach.
“Now, we can be matching!” Jake exclaimed while smiling and laughing. “Wait, let me…”. He quickly tied it up to your arm and showed his matching bracelet with you. “Wow, we look good!”. You nodded and smiled and kissed him again. “You’re the best, thank you for this beautiful bracelet. I kinda feel dumb for offering you only two vinyls now…”
He let go of you and frowned. “Hey no, don’t say that. I loved the gift, baby. Like I said before, knowing you is already enough for me. I don’t need anything else. Don’t put yourself down like that… I appreciate every little thing you do, make and give me”.
Suddenly, Jake took your hand and made you swing He quickly stepped back, arched his back and smile and extended his hand to you. “May I have this dance, my lady?”. “Of course”. You quickly took his hand and grinned. Like if he already knew it by heart, he put one hand in yours and the other around your waist.
“Looking quite beautiful, my lady.” You smirked. “Thanks, my sir. I’ve tried to impress my man tonight.” He softly smiled. “Yeah? Bet this man found himself real’ lucky. You’re quite the charming type.” You nodded. “You can say that I am.” He made you swim and smiled.
“What a lucky guy am I to dance with the most charming girl in this universe.” You kept swooning to the notes of the romantic slow music from the years you weren’t born in, and smiled. “What a lucky woman am I to dance with the most charming man in this universe.” He beamed softly and kept dancing with you around the melody of the song all around in the kitchen.
“You’re a natural baby” he said. “It’s actually my first time dancing like that with someone else…” you replied honestly. He looked at you and made you swim again. “Really? You seem like a pro if I say it so…” Jake loved making you feel butterflies in his stomach and he knew exactly how to do it so. He knew your weak spots and how to talk to you to make you feel a bit shy.
You two kept dancing until the oven times started ringing, which you guys ignored. You guys were too busy to stop. After a little while, Jake quickly turned the oven off and came back to you and kissed your cheek. “Wouldn’t want your apartment to burn…”
And that’s when you felt it. You’ve already felt it, but this night was the night when you fully knew. You’ve been single for the longest time, but with Jake on your side, you knew you were in good hands. You guys both knew you were each other’s soulmates without even having the need to tell the other person about it. To all the romantic movies you’ve watched and cried on, this one was your favourite.
Finally… You had met your soulmate who made you feel like you were in the romantic movies you’ve watched and that made life quite… let’s say… like the movies.
author’s note: I love Jake to the bottom of my heart and I couldn’t think of a better member to fit this prompt for this Valentine’s Day event!! I truly hope you guys liked this imagine and please lmk your thoughts about it :)
if you’re reading this: know that it’s okay to be alone on Valentine’s Day. We will all find our soulmates one day and I promise you the wait will be worth it. 💗 Happy Valentine’s day everyone! May your Valentine’s Day be as sweet as you guys are <3
Click here to read my masterlist! Click here to see the Valentine’s Day event :) Don’t forget to check out all the posts of this event!!
you were convinced you were going to die from the moment you had gotten kidnapped just outside campus, and brought to a rural village in southern spain by a group of possessed cultists. hope dissipated as the days passed —until he found you.
with newfound purpose thanks to jake's rescue, hand in hand, you made it through endless fights and sleepless nights, but one last challenge was to be faced before accomplishing the mission fully.
𑣲 agent!jake x president's daughter!kidnapped!reader ; action/fluff
inspired by resident evil 4 events
a/n: first imagine here!! this came to me in a dream, so who am i to refuse to write jake as leon kennedy...
"better move. island's gonna blow," jake warned, taking your hand and running off.
"it's gonna what?!"
"yeah."
you had barely even registered the death of your main nemesis, who still writhed on the floor, before he pulled you into an open elevator, and as it lowered into the ground, the ride gave you no time to take in your surroundings either. however, you had heard the explosions, some nearby and some further away from your location, as they blew up every corner of the island, erasing any evidence of the parasite that once lived there.
the elevator was unsteady, shaky, a mirror of your heart rate. adrenaline had become your lifeline these past days, pushing you to keep going, to escape.
it was a short ride down, but jake held your hand through it, like he had done through everything since he had rescued you from that small room.
the soft brush of his half-gloved thumb on the back of your hand, despite being a small gesture, managed to make you forget about your surroundings, even if just for a second. however you figured it was more about the effect he had on you, rather than the gesture itself.
you told yourself it was normal; this was his job, and he saved you from certain death. it's only natural you develop some sort of attachment to his presence —he was your only chance at escaping, wasn't he?— still, you felt something brew deeper. maybe it was that soft tone of his that calmed your senses even in extreme situation, his sturdy build and impressive skills that always made you feel safe, the little acts he offered to keep you as comfortable as you could in that moment, or the look in his eyes.
whenever jake looked at you he lost that stern, professional gaze he otherwise held 24/7: his brows relaxed, his eyes were focused as ever but his gaze held warmth, and sometimes he even let the corners of his lips curve up, understandably a rare sight in this situation.
soon the elevator came to a halt, and in a fleeting moment, jake's hand squeezed your own before dropping it.
"let's get out of here, okay?" he encouraged you in his usual gentle tone, voice echoing on the rocky walls underground.
"yeah," you replied, voice barely above a breath.
a small grin adorned his face before he resumed his professional stance, carefully preparing his rifle and stepping in front of you, ready to blow off some heads.
his steps were calculated as ever, and as you followed him through the abandoned cave you tried your best to match his pace. soon, the walking turned into jogging, after checking the area and deeming it safe enough; after all, the sooner you were out, the better.
through sharp turns and even sharper stalactites, the dock got closer and closer. from there, you'd use a boat and speed away from this island. not the safest plan, but unfortunately the only chance you had to successfully flee. at least, until the ground beneath your feet started shaking uncontrollably.
you both made an abrupt stop as the rocks cracked and separated right before your eyes. some smaller fragments were already sinking into the watercourse below and swept away by the raging current.
jake's professional instincts kicked in without wasting any time. he jumped on the other side, already reaching out his hand to you so you could follow him.
"come on," jake beckoned quietly, but you were already wrapping your hand around his and jumping across the fallen rocks.
a satisfied smile made its way onto his face, seeing how quickly you had reacted and trusted him. he would be lying if he said he hadn't felt this sense of pride many times throughout the mission, but he'd never admit it to you, and especially not in the middle of this. every second mattered, and you had to use your time wisely.
quickly, you resumed your path, only to be met face to face with a corrupted villager. jake was fast to hold his defensive stance and pushed him to the ground, but as you two looked around you noticed...
"they're not attacking, what's going on?" you questioned, hot on jake's trail as you jogged around the pile of now-innocuous cultists.
"they're nothing now that their master's gone," he briefly explained, referring to his fight earlier, "it's over for them."
a bit reassured to hear one obstacle was out of the way, your step gained a faint pep.
dodging more bodies, you two ran down the flights of stairs that led you to your much awaited escape, and you could swear tears stung your eyes when the boat came into sight.
the realization hit you: just a bit more, and you'd be out. just a bit more, and you'd leave this hellish place behind.
once again, jake moved forward first, stepping onto the boat and extending his arm to help you so you could do the same.
"hold on tight," he commanded as he sat at the helm, the engine roaring alive in a matter of milliseconds.
the sudden speed pulled a surprised squeak out of you, and you promptly wrapped your arms tighter around his torso in fear.
as you rode through tunnels you couldn't help but look around, taking in the falling stalagmites, the narrow passageways, the angry flames, and feel scared, possibly more than ever before during this entire journey.
every second you rode this boat, your chances of dying decreased and increased together: you were always a moment closer to the exit, but a moment closer to getting crushed by a boulder falling from the cave ceiling.
quivering, you hid your face in jake's back. you felt his muscles tense as he steered the boat, the steadiness of his figure but the crazy rate of his heartbeat.
"don't let go."
his sudden words made you raise your head, and you saw it: the light at the end of the tunnel.
but, you barely had time to register it as suddenly, you were flying.
everything moved in slow motion as you two hit the ramp, the boat shooting high up into the sky. you now both lost contact with the watercraft, bodies moving through the air, entangled. jake's arms wrapped around you as soon as he lost the steering wheel, shielding your figure from the impact as you fell into the sea.
your weights sank deep into water, cold and blue hues surrounding you. a feeling of sluggishness took over your senses, as saltwater filled your ears and lungs. slowly, your grip on his shirt began to falter, consciousness leaving you bit by bit.
jake, despite having his eyes shut, didn't fail to notice your loss of senses in barely a matter of milliseconds. his professional side resurged again as he gathered all the strength he had left to bring you both to the surface. so he kept a sturdy arm around your waist, and the other waved through water.
when you emerged, you had only a minimal idea of what was going on around you, or inside you. you hardly felt anything as you fought to stay awake, head lolling away from jake's figure as it was impossible for you to hold your own.
his hand moved to cradle your nape, keeping it safe against his body. looking down at you, an ache rang inside his chest at seeing you so vulnerable, so weak. however, it only gave him more strength to get back on the boat and safely wait for rescue.
he didn't swim for long, the boat having fallen just a few meters further from you. as he succedeed in rolling you both onto the watercraft, he didn't stop holding you even for a second.
so you laid in each other's arms, wet and panting, as you slowly regained consciousness. water dripped from your clothes, pooling on the steel floor of the boat, but he didn't care. his embrace remained unfaltering, your solace.
you reopened your eyes, blinking away your drowsy sight, and the first thing you caught was jake's gaze. on automatic, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, hands flying to cradle your cheeks.
he reveled in the sight of your now-awake face: your eyes, shiny and attentive, your hair stuck against your wet cheeks, and those pink lips that he caught himself staring at way too often.
his fingers brushed softly on your skin, promptly making it burn under his touch. your eyes shied away from his, overwhelmed by the contact, at which jake subtly chuckled. instead, your gaze moved to the sky.
it was painted with stunning shades of orange and pink, fading into blue. its reflection moved with the waves, peaks glistening with the last sunshine of the day. behind jake's body, what remained of the island turned into a breathtaking display of fireworks: rocks flew from the explosions, shooting through the fire and landing into the sea, raising a shower of saltwater.
it fascinated you how something so terrible could turn in an unrepeatable sight. and truthfully, it felt even satisfying to see the source of your dread blow up to pieces.
you carefully sat up, hugging your knees and enjoying the scene before you.
"beautiful, isn't it, jake?" you softly whispered, like raising your voice would break the moment.
"yeah." his tone was even lower, and he most definitely wasn't looking at the scenery.
he propped himself on his elbows, eyes still trained on your side profile, illuminated by the sunset. he knew he was staring, but simultaneously he knew he couldn't look away. and when you turned to him, you caught his gaze once again.
you giggled, facing away from his stare. "stop staring." you playfully swatted his arm.
"can't help it," he admitted without much thought. if he took two more seconds to reply, he would've probably kept up the professional facade, but his mouth moved before his brain.
your cheeks were set ablaze by his statement, and your eyes popped wide open. you were definitely not expecting this, or anything of the kind from the renowed 'cool and collected' agent sim. another bashful laugh left your mouth, unbelieving.
jake sat up, his side adjacent to yours. you were right —he thought, looking at the explosions. they were beautiful, definitely better than any horror you faced there. he reflected on your journey, from beginning to end.
he remembered when he found you in that dim lit room, trembling in fear in the corner, the realization hit him hard. you, his mission, were right in front of his very eyes. he felt a sense of responsibility, not from professionalism, but pure human sentiment.
he felt great pride in himself when he finally got you to trust him, but even greater pride in your achievements. hell— you managed to survive alone in a foreign village where everyone was on your tail, that alone was something he admired greatly. an average twenty year old should never have to go through this, but not only you had to experience it, you survived it, with great skills and logic.
he remembered every time you pushed him to slow down, too. how, after a specially intense battle, you'd care for him. he was supposed to be the one rescuing you, yet there you were, looking out for him.
however, his train of thoughts soon got distracted again as he felt the weight of your head leaning gently on his shoulder. he mimicked your gesture, pressing his cheek against the top of your hair.
clouding his mind, there were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do. but maybe, it was best to just stay like this for a while.
ʚɞ summary - married young, fucked rarely, and bored out of your mind. your rich old husband’s too busy counting money (and taking naps) to notice the hot pool boy flirting with you in broad daylight. jake sim was hired to skim leaves, not bend you over by the edge of the pool and make you forget your vows.
ʚɞ tags - 18+ MDNI, f!reader, subby!jake, cheating/infidelity, pool sex, penetrative sex (p in v) unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), pwp, down bad!jake very slight angst at the end
ʚɞ w.c - 5.8k
The California sun was a white-hot coin in the sky, bleaching the stone of the terrace and turning the turquoise pool water into a shimmering, liquid mirror. You lay back on the thickly padded lounger, the novel in your hand unread for the last twenty minutes. The pages were just a prop, something to hide behind. Your husband was holding court by the outdoor bar, his loud, gravelly laugh punctuating the humid air as he regaled his two much younger business associates with a story you’d heard three times before. His hand, liver-spotted and heavy with a gold ring, rested possessively on your thigh for a moment before he’d gotten up to refill his drink. The touch had been damp, proprietary, and utterly devoid of any spark. It was a claim, not a caress by any means.
Three minutes last night, you thought, the memory a dull throb of resentment. Three minutes of his labored breathing, the smell of expensive scotch and old-man cologne, his complete disinterest in anything you might be feeling. Then the clumsy, wet finish, a pat on your hip, and he’d rolled over to snore. You were twenty-four. Your life was this glorified cage, paid for by the quiet humiliation of being his very young, very temporary wife. The university debts were gone, but a new kind of debt was accruing in your soul, day by lonely day.
A soft, rhythmic swish-swish-swish pulled you from the bleak thought. You looked over the top of your sunglasses.
He was there. Jake.
Sim Jaeyun. The pool boy. Your husband had hired the landscaping service he worked for two months ago, and Jake had been assigned to the weekly pool maintenance. He was gliding a long-handled net through the water, his back to you. His shoulders were broad, tapering to a narrow waist where his white t-shirt was tucked into simple black swim trunks. The muscles in his tanned arms corded and relaxed with each smooth motion. He was your age, maybe a year or two older. The sheer, vibrant aliveness of him was a shock to your system every time.
The first time you saw him, you thought he was a mirage. You were sitting on the patio with the heavy platinum band on your finger feeling more like a shackle than a symbol. You’d heard the gate buzzer, the distant murmur of your husband talking to the new service manager, but you’d tuned it out. His voice was a sound you’d learned to dissolve into the background hum of the air conditioning.
Then he walked into view.
He wasn’t a mirage. He was solid, real, moving with an easy, athletic grace that made your breath catch. Khaki shorts, a simple white polo shirt stretched taut across broad shoulders, dark hair tousled and damp at the temples from the heat. He was pushing a maintenance cart, but he looked like he belonged on a surfboard or a volleyball court. Young. Your age, maybe a year or two older.
Your husband’s voice cut through the haze. “Ah, there she is. My little wife. Come here, darling.”
You forced your limbs to move, sliding off the chair and padding over on bare feet. You felt exposed in your kimono wrap dress. Your husband was in his usual uniform: a cream linen suit that did nothing to hide the paunch beneath, a cigar clamped between thick fingers. He slid a meaty, possessive arm around your waist, his fingers digging in just a little too hard.
“This is the new pool boy,” he said, not looking at the young man. “Jake Sim. He’ll be handling the pool, the gardens, general upkeep. Jake, this is my wife. You address her properly, understand? None of that casual nonsense.”
The young man—Jake—lifted his gaze. His eyes were a warm, intelligent brown, and they didn’t dart away. They met yours, held for a beat that felt infinitely longer than it was. A small, respectful smile touched his lips. “Of course, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
Ma’am. The word shouldn’t have felt like a spark against your skin, but it did. It was deference, but there was something in his tone, in the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes, that stripped the word of its stuffiness. It felt… intimate.
“Likewise,” you managed, your voice softer than you intended.
Your husband gave a satisfied grunt, already turning away, his attention snagged by his buzzing phone. “I’ll be in my study. Don’t disturb me. And you,” he said, jabbing his cigar in Jake’s general direction, “the filter in the east fountain is making a godawful noise. Fix it.”
“Right away, sir.”
You were left standing there, the ghost of your husband’s grip still bruising your side, the sun suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter. Jake didn’t move immediately. His eyes swept over you again, not leering, not like your husband’s clients or your husband himself. It was an assessment, quiet and thorough.
“Can I get you anything, ma’am?” he asked, his voice dropping just a fraction. “A fresh towel? Another drink? You look… warm.”
You were. A flush was creeping up your neck, unrelated to the sun. “I’m fine,” you said, a little too quickly. “Thank you.”
He nodded, that small smile lingering. “The offer stands. Anytime.” Then he turned, his focus shifting to the cart, the professional mask sliding back into place. But the air between you felt charged, thick with something unspoken.
That was how it began. A slow, torturous, delicious unraveling.
He’d come three times a week. You made a point of being at the pool. The suits became slightly less modest—a deeper plunge here, a higher cut on the leg there. You’d swim laps, acutely aware of his eyes following your progress through the water. You’d sunbathe on your stomach, unfastening the back of your bikini top just enough that the straps fell loosely to the sides. It was a subtle tease, a silent question of sorts.
And he’d answer. With words.
“Catching some sun, miss? Careful, you’re getting a little pink on your shoulders.” He’d say it as he tested the pH levels, not looking directly at you, but his tone was intimate, knowing.
“Long swim today. You’ve got a strong stroke.”
“Your husband away again?” he’d ask, and when you’d nod, he’d just make a soft, sympathetic sound in his throat. "Big house to be in all alone."
The conversations grew longer. You’d bring him an iced tea, pretending it was just being hospitable. He’d accept with a grateful smile that reached his crinkling eyes, and he’d tell you about his life. His move from Brisbane, his dreams, his love for his dog, Layla. He asked about you, really asked. What did you study? (Literature.) What did you dream of doing? (You couldn’t answer that one.) What music did you like? He listened, his full attention on you, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t since before the debt, before the waitressing job, before the old man’s flattery had turned into a marriage contract.
Now, as if sensing your gaze, he turned. His face broke into a smile that was warm and open, tinged with a shyness that made your stomach flip.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” he called, his voice carrying easily over the gentle lap of water. “Pool’s all clean.”
You managed a small smile back, self-consciously adjusting the strap of your one-piece. It was modest, expensive, chosen by your husband. “Thank you, Jake. You do a good job.”
“Just part of the service, Miss,” he said, dipping the net again. He always called you ‘ma’am’ or ‘miss’. You’d protested weakly the first time, gesturing to the wedding band on your finger. “Please, it’s just Y/N.”
He’d just smiled wider, his eyes crinkling. “I know, Miss. Doesn’t mean I can’t be polite.” There was a teasing lilt to it, to the acknowledgment of the absurdity of your title in this context.
Today, the game continued. He finished skimming and moved to check the chemical levels, his movements efficient and graceful. You watched him, the novel forgotten. Your husband’s laugh boomed again.
“Darling, more ice!” he barked, not even looking at you.
You sighed internally, starting to rise. But Jake was already moving. “I’ve got it, sir,” he said smoothly, walking to the ice bucket beside the bar. He refilled your husband’s glass with a polite nod. Your husband barely acknowledged him, already turning back to his conversation.
Jake’s eyes met yours as he passed your lounger on his way back to his equipment. He paused, just for a heartbeat. “Can I get you anything, Miss? Something cold? You look… warm.”
You were warm. A heat that had nothing to do with the sun. It pooled low in your belly. You were playing with fire, and you craved the burn. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Your voice was softer than you intended.
He nodded, his gaze dipping for a fraction of a second to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Okay. Just—let me know if you do.”
He went back to work, and you let out a breath. This was the pattern. The fleeting glances. The overly polite titles that felt like endearments. The electric charge in the inches of space between you when he had to walk past. It was the only thing that made the endless, lonely days in the mansion bearable.
Later, as the afternoon began to wane and your husband announced he and his guests were moving inside to the study for cigars, you saw your chance. Jake was coiling a hose by the pool shed. You stood, stretching languidly, and walked to the pool’s edge. You dipped a toe in, then your foot, watching the water ripple.
“Jake?” you called.
He looked up instantly. “Yes, ma’am?”
You turned, leaning back slightly on your hands, arching your spine just a little. A pose you’d never dare in front of your husband. “Is the temperature set correctly? It feels a bit… chilly to me.”
He approached, stopping a respectful few feet away. His eyes were on your face, but you saw the quick, involuntary drop to your body, the way his throat worked as he swallowed. “The thermostat says 82, ma’am. Ideal for swimming.”
“Hmm.” You trailed your other foot in the water, making small circles. “Maybe I should test it properly. But I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”
His smile returned, a little less shy now, a little more knowing. “You’re never in the way, Miss.” He took a half-step closer. The air between you seemed to thicken, to hum. You could smell the clean scent of chlorine on his skin, mixed with something else. “In fact,” he continued, his voice dropping so only you could hear, “It doesn’t feel right without you in it.”
Your heart hammered against your ribs. God. He was flirting with you, openly, right here in the open. And you were letting him. Encouraging him. The danger of it made you want to clench your thighs together.
From the open French doors of the study, your husband’s indistinct voice rumbled. He was there. Right there.
You looked at Jake, holding his gaze. Slowly, deliberately, you pulled your feet from the water and stood, smoothing your one-piece over your hips. A drop of water trailed down your calf. “Maybe another time,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “When it’s,” you cleared your throat. “quieter.”
His eyes darkened. “I look forward to it, Miss.”
You walked back to the lounger, feeling his gaze on your back like a physical touch, warm and possessive in a way your husband’s never was. You didn’t look back.
A business trip came suddenly, as they always did. A call from Tokyo, a booming voice detailing delays, a week at least. You stood in the echoing foyer, the phone pressed to your ear, murmuring acquiescences. “Yes, of course. Don’t worry about me. Safe travels.” When you hung up, the silence of the massive house settled around you, oppressive and heavy.
And then it lifted.
A wild, illicit freedom surged through you. A whole week. Alone.
You didn’t call Jake. You didn’t need to. His schedule was etched in your mind. Wednesday afternoon pool maintenance.
Wednesday dawned bright and clear. You spent the morning in a state of restless anticipation. You bypassed the one-pieces and opened a drawer you rarely touched. Inside was a black bikini you’d bought on a rare solo shopping trip, a tiny, sinful thing of lace and string. You put it on, scrutinizing your reflection.
The afternoon sun was at its peak when you heard the gate buzzer, then the soft rumble of the service cart on the driveway. You waited, letting him start his work. Then, fifteen minutes later, you walked out onto the terrace. He was testing the water with a digital meter, his back to you. He hadn’t heard you approach over the gentle hum of the pool filter.
You lay on the lounger silently, picking up a book.
Soon enough, a shadow fell across the page, blocking the glare. You didn’t need to look up. You knew the shape of it, the way it moved.
“Afternoon, Miss.”
Jake.
You kept your eyes on the book, a weak attempt at nonchalance. “I’ve told you, Jake. It’s Y/N.”
His laugh was low, easy. “Can’t ignore your husband’s orders.”
You finally glanced up, the sun haloing his figure. He was shirtless, as he often was while working, a sheen of sweat and pool water glistening on the defined planes of his chest and stomach. His swim trunks hung low on his hips. He held the long-handled net, idly skimming invisible debris from the water’s surface. His gaze, however, was fixed on you. It wasn’t Harold’s lecherous, entitled stare. It was appreciative, warm, and held a challenge that made your stomach tighten.r
“It’s a classic,” you defended weakly, closing the book.
“Uh-huh.” He leaned on the net pole, his biceps flexing. “Water’s perfect today. Crystal. You should come in and, uh. Cool off.” His eyes drifted over your body.
“I’m comfortable here,” you said, your voice a touch breathier than you intended.
“Suit yourself, Miss.” He winked, that infuriating, charming wink, and turned back to his work. He began brushing the tiles at the pool’s edge, his back to you. The muscles in his shoulders and back shifted with each movement, a hypnotic dance. You watched, your mouth going dry.
He’s the pool boy. You’re the lonely wife. This is a cliché. A dangerous, stupid cliché.
But Harold was in Tokyo. The house was empty. And for the first time in the two years since you’d traded your university debt for a platinum wedding band and a gilded cage, the danger sounded like freedom.
You sat up slowly. The lounge chair creaked. Jake didn’t turn around, but you saw the rhythm of his brushing stall for just a second. You stood, walked to the pool’s edge, and dipped a toe in. The water was, as he said, perfect.
“Changed your mind?” he asked, still not looking.
You hummed. “The water still feels a bit cold to me. You know, from the other day?”
He took a step forward. Then another. He stopped a foot away, lifting head at last, close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes, the faint sheen of sweat on his temple. “Let me check it for you,” he murmured.
He didn’t reach for the meter. Instead, he knelt down, right there on the hot stone. He wasn't in his work trunks now; he wore simple, dark blue swim shorts. He dipped his hand into the water, but his eyes never left yours. Then, moving with a deliberate, torturous slowness, he brought his wet fingers up… and touched them to your ankle.
The contact was electric. A jolt shot up your leg. You gasped, a tiny, sharp sound.
His wet fingers trailed up your calf, leaving a cool, shimmering path on your sun-warmed skin. “Does that feel cold, ma’am?” he asked.
You shook your head, unable to speak. Your breath hitched as his hand slid higher, over your knee, along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He was so close now, his face level with your hips.
“Jake…” you whispered, a warning and a plea all in one.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, his fingers pausing just an inch from the edge of your bikini bottoms. His eyes were blazing up at you, full of want, but also a desperate, submissive need for permission. “Tell me, please. Just say the word, Y/N, and I’ll walk away and never bother you again.”
“Don’t stop,” you breathed. “Please.”
A groan ripped from his throat, a sound of pure relief and desire. His hands, now both of them, came up to grasp your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you forward, just to the very edge of the pool. “Sit,” he urged, his voice rough. “Right here, for me.”
You obeyed, lowering yourself until you were sitting on the rough stone coping, your legs dangling in the water. He was standing in the pool, the water lapping at his waist. He moved between your spread knees, his hands sliding from your hips to your outer thighs, his touch firm, worshipful.
“You have no idea,” Jake whispered, his voice thick with desperation, his forehead pressing against the soft, sweat-damp skin of your stomach like he was anchoring himself to you. He nuzzled into the lace of your bikini top, inhaling deeply, his hot breath seeping through the thin fabric to tease your hardening nipples. “No idea how long I’ve fucking dreamed of this. Of you, Y/N.” he whined. “Every night, every goddamn second—fuck—jerked off thinking about you.” His lips dragged a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your navel, tongue flicking out to taste the salty sheen of sweat mixed with the humid air clinging to your skin. You whimpered, a sharp, needy sound that made his cock twitch painfully in his swim trunks, but he ignored it—his focus was you, only you, always you.
He looked up, his eyes glazed. “Can I taste you?” he asked, breath hot on your skin. “Please? I need to—needed to since the first time I saw you looking so lonely out here.”
You nodded, frantic.
He didn’t need more encouragement. His hands hooked into the sides of your bikini bottoms, fingers brushing the slick, swollen folds of your pussy as he yanked the wet fabric down your thighs in one swift, urgent pull. He tossed it aside carelessly, the humid afternoon breeze whispering over your exposed cunt, making your clit throb and your inner lips glisten with fresh arousal. You felt utterly bare, vulnerable, your pussy lips puffy and parted slightly from the heat, a trickle of your juices already leaking down.
Jake groaned low in his throat as he shoved your thighs wider apart with his strong but yielding hands. He held you open like an offering, his thumbs pressing into the tender flesh of your inner thighs, spreading your cunt lips apart to expose every filthy inch: the slick pink entrance clenching hungrily, your swollen clit peeking out like a pearl, begging for his attention. His gaze locked on it, devouring the sight, his breath coming in ragged pants. “Fuck, Y/N, look at you. So beautiful.”
Without another word, he dove in, his mouth crashing against your pussy like a man possessed. The first touch was a long, flat drag of his tongue from your asshole up through your slit, lapping up the musky tang of your arousal in one greedy swipe that made your toes curl into the earth and your hips buck wildly. “Hngh—Jake!” you cried, the bolt of pleasure scorching through your core, making your clit pulse under the wet heat of his assault.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured right against your dripping folds, his lips brushing your sensitive skin, sending vibrations humming straight to your nerves. “I’ll take such good care of this pretty pussy.” And then he feasted, no hesitation, no mercy for himself—he was devoted, tongue plunging and swirling with expert precision that shattered any memory of half-assed licks from past lovers.
He started filthy and slow, his broad tongue flattening against your entrance to scoop up your juices, slurping them noisily into his mouth. The wet, obscene sounds echoed in the humid air—schlick, schlick—as he lapped at your cunt, dragging up to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing the hood before flicking directly over the throbbing nub. Your back arched off the ground, fingers flying to his damp hair, yanking hard on the soft, dark strands to grind his face deeper into your pussy. “Ngh—Jake—don’t stop—”
“I got you, baby,” he mumbled, voice muffled against your slick flesh, the words vibrating through your clit and making fresh cream gush onto his chin. He sucked your juices down greedily. “You taste so fucking good.” He shifted lower for a moment, his nose bumping your clit as his tongue speared into your hole, fucking in and out with shallow, desperate thrusts, curling up to stroke your inner walls and lap at the g-spot that made your thighs quake around his head.
But he couldn’t stay away from your clit for long. Jake pulled back just enough to spread your lips wider with his fingers, exposing the swollen button fully, then dove back in, circling it tight and fast with the flat of his tongue, alternating with sharp, precise flicks that had you seeing stars. Then he sealed his lips around it, sucking hard, the pull sending electric jolts straight to your core, your pussy fluttering and leaking more slick down his throat. “Hn—oh, my—Jake—” You were babbling incoherently, head thrown back against the grass, the humid sun beating down on your skin as sweat trickled between your tits.
He didn’t let up, his free hand sliding up to pinch and roll one of your nipples through the bikini lace, twisting just hard enough to blend pain with pleasure, while his mouth worked relentlessly. “That’s it, Y/N, let me hear how I make you feel,” he panted, and when he felt you tighten, “Can you come for me? Please?”
His words were your undoing, the desperation in his tone pushing you higher, your hips rocking shamelessly against his face, smearing your arousal across his cheeks and nose. You lost all rhythm, grinding your cunt on his eager mouth, chasing the building pressure as his tongue fucked into you deeper, then flattened to lap broad strokes over your clit, sucking and nibbling with teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. The coil in your belly wound impossibly tight, your walls clenching around nothing.
“I’m—I’m gonna—Jake, fuck, I’m coming—!”
He redoubled his efforts, obsessed with chasing your orgasm, his tongue plunging into your spasming hole in quick, frantic fucks while his lips latched onto your clit, sucking with vacuum-like pressure, humming vibrations right through it. The orgasm hit, your pussy convulsing wildly, gushing hot cum straight onto his tongue. You screamed, thighs clamping around his head, fingers pulling his hair until it hurt, riding the waves as he lapped every drop, refusing to pull away. Even through the aftershocks, he softened his touch, tongue gently stroking your oversensitive folds, cleaning your creamy mess with devoted laps, drawing out every shudder until your body went limp, slumping forward over him.
Slowly, he pulled back. His lips and chin were glistening. He looked up at you, his eyes hazy with satisfaction and unabashed adoration. He kissed your inner thigh, so tenderly it made your heart ache. “So perfect,” he whispered. “Thank you.” You could have laughed out of incredulity. He was thanking you.
You looked down at him, at this beautiful boy who had just given you more pleasure in five minutes than your husband had in a year of marriage. A fierce, possessive warmth bloomed in your chest.
“Stay in the pool,” you said, your voice husky.
His eyebrows lifted. “Ma’am?”
“C’mon, Jake,” you said, pushing yourself off the edge. You landed in the warm water with a soft splash, facing him. The water came up to your chest. “Did you think I was done with you?”
A slow smile spread across his face. He obeyed, slipping fully into the water, moving to stand before you. You closed the distance, your body aligning with his in the buoyant water. You could feel the hard, thick length of him pressed against your stomach through his swim shorts.
You reached between you, your fingers finding the waistband of his shorts. You hooked your fingers in and pushed them down. He helped, kicking them away. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed and impressively large, bobbing in the water between you.
You wrapped your hand around him, and he hissed, his head falling back. “Fuck—your hand—”
You stroked him once, twice. “You wanted to fuck me, Jake?” you whispered in his ear, your other hand trailing down his sculpted back. “Is that what all those looks were about?”
“Yes,” he groaned, his hips pushing minutely into your fist. “God, yes. I want to fuck you so bad. I want to be inside you, Y/N. Please.”
“Then do it,” you said, releasing him and wrapping your legs around his waist in the water. The buoyancy made you weightless, made you feel like you were floating, untethered from everything but him. “Right here. Right now.”
He needed no further instruction. His hands gripped your ass, holding you steady, and with a desperate, searching motion, he guided himself to your entrance. The broad head of his cock nudged against you, slick from your arousal and the water. He looked into your eyes, seeking one final confirmation.
You nodded, biting your lip.
He pushed inside.
It was a slow, inexorable, breathtaking stretch. The water provided a strange, frictionless glide, making every millimeter of his penetration acutely, intensely felt. You were so sensitive from your orgasm, every inch of his invasion was magnified. You felt full, so full, in a way you never had before.
“Oh—hn—Y/N—” he choked out, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he buried himself to the hilt. He was shaking. “You feel—you’re so tight—shit, so hot…” His hips gave a slow, grinding roll, stirring his thick length inside your sensitive walls. One hand stayed firm on your ass, fingers kneading the flesh to keep you anchored, while the other cupped your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek. “You're so perfect.”
You laughed, breathless, and he smiled faintly, that gleam in his gaze as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips, tasting of your own release from earlier. But his hips snapped forward again, resuming the rhythm, cock plunging in and out with wet, forceful strokes that made the water churn around you. “That's it,” he whispered against your mouth, praise dripping from his words like honey mixed with filth. “So wet for me,” he murmured, sucking hickeys into the side of your neck. You would need to cover them up with concealer when your husband came back, but in this moment, nothing mattered.
Then he mouthed over your tits, latching onto one and sucking the nipple deep into the heat of his mouth while his tongue flicked relentlessly, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks straight to your clit. He fucked you harder now, the head of his cock battering your cervix with each upward thrust, your legs locked around his waist pulling him impossibly deeper. His free hand roamed down, fingers finding your clit swollen and slick, rubbing firm circles that had your pussy clenching around him anew, sucking his veined shaft as it stretched you wide.
“Does it feel good for you?” he checked in softly between sucks, pulling off your tit with a pop, saliva stringing from his lips to the reddened peak. His eyes searched yours, ensuring you were with him, before diving back in, nipping the other nipple while his cock hammered faster, balls slapping against your ass underwater. “You're doing so fucking good,” he praised. “Could worship this pussy forever.”
The words fueled the fire, your body responding with a fresh gush of arousal coating his pistoning length, the friction building that coil tight once more. He held you effortlessly, muscles flexing under your grip as he railed you, mouth alternating between your tits—sucking, licking, biting—leaving them marked and throbbing, while his fingers pinched your clit, rolling it until you arched against him, chasing the edge again. His praises came in husky bursts, reassuring and adoring, all while his cock ravaged your hole without mercy.
His mouth moved from your throat to the sensitive shell of your ear. “You feel so good, Y/N,” he panted, the words hot and ragged against your damp skin. “So fucking tight, milking me—I can’t—I’m—I’m not gonna last.” The water’s buoyancy was a blessing and a curse—it allowed him to pound into you with impossible force, your body weightless and pliant, while the liquid resistance made every drag of his shaft against your swollen inner walls an exquisite, detailed torture.
You clung to his shoulders, your fingernails digging half-moons into his tanned skin. You could feel the fine tremors running through his muscles, the strain of his restraint. He was holding back, waiting for you, and the sheer, submissive devotion of it made your pussy clench around him in a vicious, possessive squeeze.
“Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you gasped, biting his earlobe. “I want to feel it. I want to feel you come inside me, Jake.”
A groan tore from his chest, vibrating through your own. His hips stuttered, his rhythm breaking into a series of short, brutal thrusts. “Fuck—yes, ma’am—anything, anything for you—” His hand slid from your back, fingers threading through your wet hair to cradle your head as he kissed you, messy and desperate, his tongue thrusting in time with his cock. You sucked his tongue into your mouth, swallowing his moans.
His other hand found your ass again, fingers splaying to grip one cheek possessively, kneading the flesh as he drove into you. “Gonna come,” he warned, his voice a broken whisper against your mouth. “I’m—gonna—gonna pump you so full, Y/N, mark you up from the inside, please, please let me—”
“Yes,” you moaned, the word swallowed by his kiss. “Do it, do it—.”
That was all the permission he needed. His body went rigid, a strangled cry ripped from his throat, and then he was pulsing, hot jets of cum flooding your core, each throb of his cock a profound, intimate claim. You felt the warmth of it even through the cool water, a shocking intimacy that made your own climax wash over you a second later. It crashed into you, a wave of pure, white-hot pleasure that clenched your entire body, your cunt spasming around his still-spurting length. You sobbed into his mouth, the sound muffled, your body convulsing in his arms as the aftershocks rolled through you, leaving you boneless and shuddering.
For a long moment, you simply floated, entangled, breathing in the humid, chlorine-scented air. His forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in hot, shaky puffs. His cock, still semi-hard and nestled deep inside you, gave a final, twitching throb, and a fresh trickle of his release seeped out, mingling with the pool water. The feeling was filthy and decadent.
Then, he pulled out, the loss of him making you feel achingly empty. He kept his arms around you, holding you close, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Wow,” he breathed out.
“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw.
You stayed like that for another minute, floating in the warm, quiet twilight. Then, reality, cold and sharp, began to seep back in. The sun was nearly gone. The automatic pool lights flickered on, casting an eerie blue glow across the water. You had no idea how much time had passed.
“We should…” you began, not wanting to finish the sentence.
Jake nodded, understanding dimming his eyes. “Yeah.” He swam to the edge, hoisting himself out with easy strength, then turned and offered you his hand. You took it, letting him pull you from the water. You stood on the wet stone, dripping, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. He grabbed two thick, fluffy towels from the stack by the lounger and wrapped one around your shoulders, his touch lingering. He used the other to roughly dry his own hair and torso.
You both dressed in a hurried, silent dance. You pulled on a silky robe over your damp bikini; he tugged his white t-shirt over his head, the fabric clinging to his still-damp skin. He stepped into his khaki shorts but left them unfastened, his eyes never leaving you.
“Do you—”
That was when you heard it.
The distinct, heavy purr of a luxury car engine. The crunch of gravel on the long driveway. Not the service gate. The main gate.
Your blood turned to ice.
No. No, no, no. A week. He said a week.
The engine cut off. A car door slammed. Then another. Voices. Your husband’s loud, grating laugh. Another man’s voice, younger, chuckling.
He’s back. He’s back early. And he’s not alone.
Panic, cold and sharp, sliced through the post-coital haze. You looked down at yourself. Your robe was loose, your hair a wild, damp tangle. Your skin was flushed, your lips swollen from kissing. And between your legs… you were sore, wet, full of him. You could still smell Jake on your skin, taste him in your mouth.
You scrambled. You tied your robe tightly, ran your fingers through your hair, and wiped your mouth. You grabbed your book and towel and practically ran for the French doors leading into the living room. You had to get upstairs, to a shower, to erase every trace.
You slipped inside just as the front door opened. You heard the heavy tread of your husband’s loafers on the marble foyer floor.
“Darling!” his voice boomed, echoing through the cavernous house. “We’re home! The closer wrapped early. Got a hell of a deal. Come pour us a drink!”
You froze in the shadowed hallway, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. You could hear the other man—one of the associates from earlier—murmuring something.
You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force your face into a placid, wifely mask. You could still feel the ghost of Jake’s lips between your thighs, the throb of your well-used pussy.
guess who refuses to stay gone? siren news incoming:
after thinking about everything that happened last week and sitting with it properly, siren aka si3rren has decided that leaving something she loves just because some people couldn’t handle their own emotions is actually ridiculous. so she’s coming back to enhablr.
it won’t be instant — give it a few weeks, maybe a month — but she will be back. it’s happening. inevitable. and when she returns, it’ll be in a better state.
now for the ‘how did we get here’ segment:
siren's thought process -
i’m coming back because this is literally where my heart is. i told people irl what happened — some were disappointed at how fast i dropped everything, some said it was okay because i needed to heal but that i shouldn’t stop writing. and then my dad texted me in the morning: “all well beta, continue your writing, nothing should stop you, that’s where your heart is.” so yeah, fuck that, i’m not letting random hate or jealousy be the reason i quit. i’m not coming back today or tomorrow, but i am coming back. PERIOD.
also, she’s already working on a new fic (something she was writing even before the hate train crashed through everything, actually). and she can’t wait to share it when the time is right.
as for a spoiler? i’m only allowed to say this:
maybe it’s inspired by hannibal.
maybe the title is she is my caller.
maybe it’s about her beloved.
that’s all you’re getting for now.
In case you want to read her fics in the meantime, her wattpad (si3rren) is still up.
content warnings: MDNI, smut, power imbalance (idol x fan), dubious consent/coercive dynamics, slight alcohol consumption, breath play/choking, rough sex, overstimulation, breast play, oral (m and f receive), slight degradation if you squint, possessive behavior, public interaction leading to private sexual encounter, emotional distress/panic spirals/anxiety, slight dacryphilia, explicit language, physical restraint/pinning, unprotected sex, pull out.
words: 9.9k
AN: based on this ask. Keep in mind that it’s my first time doing an ask (which I was so grateful for btw!) so I hope it lives up to everyone’s expectations! Yes, I absolutely did get carried away, but somehow the story just wrote itself, what could I do…
*everything is fictional, just for some distracting fun*
Reposts are super appreciated 🤍
---------
Your ribs press slightly against the barrier, people pushing in from behind you as Hongioong appears on the screen. The camera follows him backstage and you feel yourself swoon a little: that cocky smile of his with the walk of a man who knows no fear, the energy he radiates - it's intoxicating.
This is your second show for the tour. Yesterday, you had stood directly in front of the stage, but you kept noticing Hongjoong going to the left side, so today, you decided to try going there too.
And it worked.
For the last hour and a half, he has been coming to this side of the stage, giving you and the people around you all kinds of interactions. You couldn't be happier that your bias is so close. More than that, it feels like he keeps singing to you, winking and pointing in your direction. Obviously, you're not delusional enough to think it means anything, but it doesn't make the feeling any less incredible.
You even made a fist to ask him to play rock paper scissors with you, out of sheer curiosity, and you about died inside when he played with you. His eyes were locked on yours the whole time, and your face burned at his intimidating presence.
Your eyes are now glued to the screen as the camera follows him up the stairs to the stage. When he appears, your heart falters a little at the sight, the lights making millions of sparkles burst on his custom made jacket.
The crowd erupts in screams and cheers when he starts yet another brand new intro to his song, as he does every night. There's something about his creative genius that gets you going every single time - if only you could have a peek inside that brain of his...
Suddenly, he makes his way down the stairs to the little corridor between the crowd and the stage, and when his foot meets the ground, he turns his head to meet your eyes instantly.
A drop of sweat runs down your back at his disarming gaze, and you can feel every fan in your vicinity staring at you. You don't know if you should look away or hold his stare, but your body takes the decision away from you - you can’t look away. Not when he prances towards you, not when he sings to you, not even when he comes face to face with you.
It feels like a dream.
His orange hair seems somewhat brighter despite the lack of light down here, the shimmers around his eyes put you in a trance, and his perfume - god his perfume - it makes your head spin.
He's right there. And no, you're not dreaming. Your bias, the man you compare every guy you meet to, is standing less than two feet away from you. The one you put on a pedestal for his kindness, his generosity, his cleverness and wit, and let's face it, his stunning visuals.
His eyebrow cocks as the chorus approaches and your breath catches in your throat. You've seen videos of this happening, him passing the mic to an ATINY and having her sing along, but not in a million years did you ever think this would happen to you. You're tragically unprepared, but he doesn’t give you a choice.
It’s like it all happens in slow motion - him singing the words N-O-1 before angling the mic towards you. His demeanour is almost lazy, his free hand holding on to the barrier as he leans his weight against it.
You don't think, you just act.
The lyric comes out of you in an instant. It's not perfect or steady, your nerves manifesting in a shaky breath, but you'll be damned if you don't take this opportunity.
He smiles at you, a kind, warm smile with a slight under layer of smugness and you bite your lip, trying not to scream. He catches the tiny movement with a flicker of his eyes, and withdraws his hand from the barrier - not without brushing his fingers over your waist. Could it be accidental? Most likely. But it doesn't stop your entire body from lighting up.
He turns away, continuing his way around the stage, and you could swear he winks at you as his head whips, but so much just happened in such a short amount of time that you're dizzy, and everything feels blurry.
A girl behind you pats your shoulder.
“Girl, you good?”
The sound suddenly comes back fully and you start breathing again. You look at her and smile weakly, nodding your head yes, unable to produce words.
Your friend couldn't make it today, and you were debating whether to come on your own or not, but you’re so glad you pushed through the nerves and decided to enjoy it anyways. She is absolutely going to regret not having been here for this.
You watch as he continues to walk around the corridor, and you notice, despite trying to stay grounded, that he doesn’t pass the mic to anyone else. It’s so hard not to come to any conclusions, but you also know this is his job - you’re not the first fan he gave the mic to, and you certainly won’t be the last.
You focus on your breathing for a second, trying to calm your racing heart, before you dial back into the performance. You’re here to watch them after all.
Hongjoong is behind the DJ booth again, jumping around and you let yourself enjoy it.
Shutter flashin’ on me
The strobe lights are blinding, making you feel lost in the sea of fans, and you let yourself get carried with their voices.
Fit so clean I’m blessing lenses like a Sunday service
Your eyes are glued to him as his hips move in a hypnotising rhythm. All of a sudden he’s staring at you again.
She screamin' out my name
I got the girls feeling holy
You wish you were making this up in your head. Either you’ve gone crazy, or this is the most fan service that ever fan serviced. This man just winked at you whilst singing this. Is he implying you would scream out his name? That he would make you feel holy?
You shake your head.
This has gone too far. It almost feels like you’re falling into a spiral of delusions and you need to claw your way out now, or you might get stuck in it.
————
The rest of the concert goes off without a hitch, lest for a few pointing glances from a certain orange haired man, and you’re not sure if you should ignore them, or if you’re overthinking it and would come off as rude.
As incredible as this experience was, when the venue lights come back on, you breathe a sigh of relief. The fans emptying around you are giving you some physical and mental room to breathe, and you welcome it. Your friend is definitely never going to believe this.
You grab all your things, packing a handful of confetti in your bag and start making your way out when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around to see security standing there, intimidating.
“Miss, were you standing over there?” He asks as he points to where you just were moments ago.
You nod, swallowing thickly with nerves. “Yeah I was, why? Is it the confetti? ‘Cause I saw everyone doing this, I thought it was allowed…”
“I’m not here about the confetti, you can take as much as you want.” He motions towards the side of the stage. “Could you follow me? This will just take a minute.”
Confusion and intrigue battle inside your mind for a moment, the latter winning the fight.
You follow the broad shouldered man to a small curtain under the stage, where a woman awaits. She smiles at you before handing you a piece of paper.
“He wanted you to have this.” She says, disappearing as soon as you grab the small white rectangle.
You unfold it slowly with trembling hands.
I trusted you with my mic, trust me with one night.
And below, a phone number.
Your eyes dart back to where the woman was but she’s already long gone, and when you look to your side, so is the man who brought you here.
“Is this a joke?” You throw out, your voice much quieter than you wish it was, but with no one to answer you, you decide to give the number a try.
Your fingers shake as you dial the number. It rings a couple of times before the line crackles.
“Hello?”
A beat, and then, “Hello, I’m glad to see you took my number.”
“Is this actually Kim Hongjoong? Is someone pranking me?”
“Meet me at the Hilton by the venue at 11.30pm. Room 613. And please, don’t bother changing into anything else.”
“What? What do you m-“ Your question gets cut off by the beep of the call being ended.
You blink at nothing, as if seeing better could help you make sense of this conversation.
It sure sounded like his voice, but there is no way an idol would actually call you, let alone invite you to his room. No, this is definitely a prank.
But then again, why would security go through all this trouble? Is it something they do every show to entertain themselves in some sadistic way, or were they just following instructions?
You look at the time.
10.47pm
Forty-three minutes until the mentioned meeting time.
Out of curiosity, you check the nearest Hilton location, finding out that it’s only a fifteen minute walk.
The venue is almost empty now, and you have no choice but to leave. As you approach the doors, you stare at the map in front of you. You can either turn right and go to the bus stop, or turn left and find out if this is real or some cruel joke - but neither option seems to be the right one. You look up and see a bar across the street, deciding to settle there for the time being.
————
11.12pm
You haven’t stopped checking the time since you sat down, sighing after every sip of your beer, unsure what to do.
On one hand, you could just go home and pretend this was just a fever dream. On the other hand… on the other hand, you could potentially have the most incredible experience of your life - if only you trusted in fate a little. You take the last swig of your drink, clanking it down on the table. Gathering your belongings, you step outside and look at your options one last time.
If I didn’t want to go, why would I still be thinking about it?
That one thought is what settles it for you - your body pulls you to your right, the neon sign of the Hilton guiding your way as you feel a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach.
————
When you reach the hotel entrance, it feels like the glowing sign is looking down at you, mocking you for believing Hongjoong actually wants you to meet him in his hotel room. You're frozen in place, unable to step foot inside, when your phone rings.
No caller ID
You hesitate but answer after a few rings.
"I can see you at the entrance, why aren't you coming in? It's cold."
You look around, checking for any sign of someone following you, but there is nothing, just the light traffic of hotel occupants coming and going.
"I'm in my room, you won't see me from down there."
Your head automatically tilts upwards, looking for someone in a window, but it's impossible to tell which one is his.
"Just come up before you turn into an icicle."
The call cuts before you can say anything.
Screw it. Maybe it's the beer talking, or maybe it's the exhaustion from having been on your feet all day, but you haven't come this far just to turn around.
You walk into the hotel, your first thought being to go to reception but you abstain - asking where an idol's room is won't exactly look great. Instead, you go to the nearest elevator and punch in the dial for the 6th floor. Logically, that's where he'll be.
The more floors you go past, the faster your heart beats. This is absolutely insane. The craziest, most unhinged thing you've ever done, but you're too close to finding out what's going on to turn back now.
The doors open with a ding and you jump at the sound. Stepping outside, slowly, you scan the doors for where to go.
607, 609, 611
There it is. Room 613.
You bring your fist up to knock when the door opens, and there he is.
In front of your eyes. Kim Hongjoong. You search his face for surprise at you being here, but there is none. Instead, he's smiling at you.
"I'm glad you made it."
No words come to you. It's like you're a toddler who has yet to produce her first words. You should really say something, a greeting, or maybe even smile, not look at him like a fish.
Nothing.
He chuckles and opens the door wider for you.
"Come in!"
The ice around your body slowly thaws and you find the ability to move your legs, one step at a time, until you're standing in the middle of his room, the door locking behind you.
You absolutely did not think this through. Your brain only took you as far as figuring out if this was real or a prank, it never actually put you through the scenarios of what to do should this actually be happening.
"Do you need anything? Have you eaten since the show?" He's already by the room phone, dialling reception.
You shake your head lightly. Now that he mentions it, you haven't really eaten all day.
"No."
He smiles. "She speaks! Alright, I'll order you some… fries? Burger? Salad? What do you want?" Your stomach rumbles as he lists the foods. "Salad’s fine.”
He raises an eyebrow at you when someone answers on the other line. "Hi, yes, I'd like to have some salad, fries and a burger brought up to room 613 please.” He looks at you from the corner of his eyes. “Throw in a brownie too." He turns to you. "You can eat whatever you want."
When he hangs up, he looks at you, scanning you, and you suddenly feel not just out of place, but tiny, insignificant. You're in the presence of this man who has thousands at his feet and has dominated industries, and you can't help but wonder why he asked you to come.
"You should sit down." He says, pulling a chair out for you.
You oblige, mindlessly, as if he was in control of your actions.
"What's your name?"
"Y/n." You whisper, realising that he has no idea who you are.
He smiles, a genuine, happy smile. "I'm Hongjoong, nice to meet you."
He extends his hand and you stare at it for a moment before grabbing it. The contact of his skin sends a current of electricity coursing through your veins and you tense.
"I know." You say, a little snarky. "I kind of just went to your concert." He bursts out in a laugh that surprises you, but it pulls a shy smile out of you.
"I suppose that's fair." He waits for a moment. "I'm sorry for all the theatrics, I feel like I made this whole thing more cryptic than it needed to be."
"Just a tad." You say, scratching your neck. "I didn't know if it was real or a prank. I'm still not sure…” You chuckle.
For the first time since you arrived, you take a quick scan of the room. You've seen their hotel rooms on lives, but being in it feels different. It feels... mundane. Banal. Just another hotel room, much like the ones you've stayed in before - although perhaps bigger. His things are packed neatly in a little corner, his DJ pad sitting on the nightstand, as if he had been practicing until your arrival.
He tracks your eyes to the small machine.
"You want me to show you?"
He's already up and walking to pick it up, making you notice his outfit, which you hadn't paid any mind to when you got here.
He's wearing a loose white t-shirt, his tattoo peaking through the sleeve, and a pair of grey sweats. His makeup is gone and his hair looks freshly washed.
You look down at yourself and can't help but feel a little gross. You've been sweating, standing, amongst thousands of people, and you look completely out of place. Instinctively, your arms cross over your chest, too aware of how revealing your top is - the halter neck corset not doing much to hide certain parts of you.
When he turns around, DJ pad in hand, he notices your posture has changed, and it feels like all of a sudden the air changes too.
He burrows his eyes into yours.
"You don't need to do that. You look nice. Actually, you look beautiful." His voice is soft but commanding.
You want to uncross your arms, but the blush is creeping to the surface of your skin now, and you feel even more aware of the situation. He takes a slow step towards you.
"Why do you think I told you not to change?"
You open your mouth to respond but a knock on the door interrupts you before you can.
Room service might have just saved you from getting yourself into a situation you shouldn't be in with how this was going.
You look towards the door and notice Hongjoong only has it open enough to take the tray from the hotel worker, not enough to let them see you in here. It makes you realise that no one knows where you are, and it brings both a slight fear and an intriguing flash of excitement through you.
The smell of the food hits your nose as soon as the door is closed and your stomach protests at the lack of attention you've given it today.
"Food's here!" He puts the tray down on the table and sits down in front of you, but you don't move. "I was serious earlier. Have what you want. As much or as little as you want."
You look at the array of delicious looking plates before you, your mouth salivating, but you can't quite bring yourself to touch any of it.
"That's so much... I can't."
"Yes, you can. I ordered it for you."
"But.." You're not sure how to phrase it. "You paid for it..."
He scoffs. "So? You think this is what's gonna ruin me? Y/n, eat." He's serious now, and you don't want to make him mad or seem disrespectful, so you tentatively grab a french fry.
When it hits your tongue, the salt makes you instantly close your eyes and hum in contentment.
He observes you, the small sound you just made going straight to his head. He was right to make you come here - there was no other way he could get you out of his system.
When you reopen your eyes, you catch him staring at you, unabashedly, and you fold into yourself a little, embarrassed.
"Sorry..."
"For what? I'm glad you're enjoying the food."
His smile is sincere, but the intensity of his gaze is unsettling. Still, you continue to pick at the fries, taking a bite of the burger here and there. It may not be the most ladylike thing, but your care slowly goes out the window the more you eat.
He watches you for what feels like hours before speaking.
"Is there anything you wanna know?"
The question takes you by surprise and you stop mid chew. Yes, there are so many things you're burning to find out, but you have no idea where to begin.
"Are you not tired?"
He chuckles at your question, probably expecting something completely different. "Aren't you?"
"A little.” You shrug. “The food is helping though."
"I'm the same. I usually go to bed much later anyways, so this is nothing a little food can't fix." He says as he pops a fry in his mouth.
You smile at him, a genuine smile for the first time since you’ve arrived. It makes you feel a little better that he’s eating too and is so relaxed about all of this. You gain a bit of confidence to ask another question.
“What’s it like performing the same songs over and over again, do you ever get bored?”
He grins at your interest in his job. “It depends. It’s repetitive, but I love performing, and every performance is different. The crowds, the venues, the purpose, the energy. It gives the song a new feel every time. So for the most part, I’d say… no.”
You’re completely entranced by his words, drinking in every single thing he says. Your questions keep flowing as you get more comfortable - about his job, his career, his life. You can’t stop finding new questions to ask him, although you’re careful not to tread on ones that would seem too personal. After all, you have to remind yourself you’re in the presence of an idol, and although he invited you here, he still probably doesn’t want to divulge every aspect of his life to you.
He keeps answering everything without hesitating, but one thing is burning at the tip of your tongue.
“I have another question, but… I’m not sure I should.”
Curiosity sparks inside him and he stands straighter, expectant.
You clear your throat. “Do you, umm… do you do this often?”
He knows what you mean but he wants you to say it out loud. “Do what?”
Your cheeks heat up. “Invite women… fans…up. Here. To your room.”
“No.”
The one word answer is simple and clear, and it makes the air feel like it suddenly weighs a half ton more. Your breathing grows a little quicker at the revelation. This somehow feels like an incredible amount of pressure, but would it have made you feel better if he said yes?
“Oh…” The word comes out breathless, almost inaudible.
His eyes drop to your outfit and you feel like shrinking into your seat, but his presence pins you into place.
“I saw you yesterday, you know? You were wearing your hair up, and your top was like our cowboy outfit from last tour.”
The revelation knocks the air out of you. How is it possible that he noticed you when you were multiple rows away from barricade?
“Actually, I had to avoid the front as much as possible. You distracted me, and I almost missed my cue during Lemon Drop. That’s the first time it’s happened. I was pretty flustered after that. Took me a few minutes to lock back in, but I could feel you staring at me the whole time.”
“I had no idea, sorry…”
He laughs a little. “What are you apologising for? You weren’t doing anything wrong.”
“Still, I… I don’t know. I didn’t mean to distract you.”
He nods. “I know. It just happened. And I thought I’d be fine today, honestly. Actually, I was relieved when I didn’t see you at first. But then, when I spotted you on my right, it felt like a sign. That’s where I’d been coming yesterday - but you obviously knew that. That’s why you came, isn’t it.”
His last sentence isn’t a question - it’s a statement. If he told you he could read minds you wouldn’t be surprised.
Of course you knew, and of course you weren’t gonna miss that chance.
You hadn’t realised until now, but he’s been inching closer and closer to you, leaning on the edge of his chair.
Your brain manages to form the words you’ve been itching to ask. “Why me?”
He leans back a little, rubbing a hand over his face. “Honestly? I have no idea. I wish I had a clear answer, but I don’t. There’s a lot of beautiful fans every night, and without sounding mean, there’s nothing inherently different about you.” He pauses for a second, leaning his elbows on his knees. You can almost feel his breath fanning your face. “Except that I couldn’t get you out of my head. I needed to be close to you. Talk to you. Hear your voice. Get to know you. Get you out of my system by any means necessary.”
His proximity and his words make your head spin. “The beer was a bad idea.” You mutter as you feel your face flush, your breathing growing erratic.
He stands up suddenly, grabbing a glass of water and handing it to you.
“Hydrate.”
You take it with shaky hands and drink slowly, focusing on calming yourself, instead of his overbearing presence next to you, worry written in the furrow of his brow.
He watches you closely, checking any sign that you aren’t well, his gaze automatically dropping to your chest. His angle gives him the perfect view of it rising and falling, reminding him just why he had to get you up here.
Feeling the cold water flowing down your throat helps calm you a little, and you put the glass down. He's still staring at you, observing you.
You look up at him from under your lashes and his stomach flips at the sight, when he sees a drop of water glide past your lip. Without thinking, he wipes it with his thumb, cupping your face in his warm hand, and you freeze.
He doesn't pull away. He wants to see if you will - if you'll hesitate or feel discomfort. Instead, your fingertips find his wrist, laying on it, as if trying to see if he's real. His perfume hits your nose and your eyelids flutter as the scent flows through you.
You feel the blood coursing through his veins, his slightly elevated pulse, and somehow, that grounds you - you realise you're not the only one affected by this situation.
Slowly, he kneels down, eye level with you. You can't look away. It feels like he's gravity pulling you into him.
Your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips, so perfect and pink, and without realising it, you're inching closer to him. He can feel your breath on his face and his heartbeat stutters, jaw ticking from the effort of restraining himself.
When you realise what you're doing, you pull back sharply, looking down, ashamed at your lack of control.
He hates that. He hates that you won't come closer, hates that you won't let yourself do what he knows you want to do.
He can't take the distance anymore, and, using the hand that's cradling your face, pulls you into him.
The moment your lips touch it feels like time stops, your brain short-circuits. It takes you a few seconds to understand what's happening, but when you do, your body melts into his without question, your fingers weaving through his hair.
The feeling is so foreign. This isn’t your first kiss, but it might as well be. Every nerve is firing signals into your brain, not knowing what to focus on.
Your back arches to try and get closer to him, your breath mingling with his, your hands tugging at his roots to try and keep you steady.
Hongjoong isn’t much more controlled, the hand that was on your face is holding on to you like he’s scared you’ll disappear, whilst his other is lingering on the small of your back, trying to pull you even closer to him.
The feeling of his fingers on your bare skin sends a shiver through you, a tiny whimper coming out of you that travels straight to the pit of his stomach.
Despite having snacked on fries, you notice his breath smells of peppermint, whilst his skin seems to cast the woody smell of his perfume with every beat of his heart.
He hums quietly into you, and your fingers tighten around his hair and the collar of his shirt, whatever’s in reach. The gesture makes him growl, and his brows draw together as your presence consumes him.
You pull back a little, trying to catch your breath, and he leans his forehead against yours.
The distance helps your brain clear up, the situation becoming unmistakable with every passing heartbeat. When you look at him again, it's like it finally clicks in your head.
You throw yourself back in your seat, hands clasped against your mouth, eyes wide. A thousand thoughts race through your head.
This is wrong.
You stand up, overwhelmed, and start pacing around the room.
“What the fuck did I just do?”
“I shouldn’t have done this!”
“No no no no no…”
“I’ve just fucked my life up forever.”
Everything comes out of your mouth at once as you burn circles on the carpet, gnawing at your thumb. Your eyes are welling up at the importance and gravity of the situation.
He stands up slowly, chest heaving, eyes unable to detach from your curves, his brain stuck on the taste of your lips.
"Y/n?" he calls softly, but you don't hear him amongst the turmoil in your brain.
"Oh god and his reputation."
“People will know!”
"He's an idol y/n, what were you thinking?!"
He approaches you tentatively. "Y/n!"
But you still can't hear him, too lost to let the outside world in. You're spiralling - hard.
Suddenly you're whipped around, his hand firmly holding your elbow, facing him. His palm scorches your skin as every nerve ending reacts to his proximity.
"Just shut up and kiss me." He exhales, breathless, pleading eyes piercing into yours.
His mouth crashes into you again before your brain can register anything.
The kiss is more desperate this time, his need mirrored in the ache building in your chest. Your knees buck slightly at the overwhelming nature of the situation, but his hand quickly grabs your waist, pulling you further into him.
He's not letting you go anytime soon.
Your breathing grows heavier as his hand weaves itself in your hair and he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Every move he does puts you deeper in the trance of his touch.
His tongue swipes across your bottom lip in a silent request to be let in. You hesitate - a beat too long. He tugs at your hair, making you moan, and takes that opportunity to slide into your mouth, exploring it lazily, tasting you.
The rational part of you wants to stop him - this is wrong on so many levels. But that part is losing control with every kiss, relinquishing it over to him, barely putting up a fight.
Without you realising it, he’s walked back into the bed, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the mattress.
He lifts you up a little as he sits you both down, letting you straddle him on both sides. The position is incredibly intimate, sitting on top of him exactly where you can feel what he’s thinking and feeling - and right now, the evidence is… big. You can feel him growing under you second by second.
Both of your hands are holding his face now, like you can’t believe he’s real - which you still can’t -, your hair falling around your faces, as if caging you in from the outside world. His hand on your waist moves up your back, slowly, exploring every inch of exposed skin. Your back arches in the wake of his touch, and you can’t help the string of moans and whimpers flowing out of you.
He loves it - can’t help the way his mouth curves at every tiny, breathy sound you make.
The kisses become sloppier as time passes, desperation and need clawing at both your insides.
When he reaches the top of your back, his hands start exploring your arms, slowly, like he’s memorising every inch of you, and it leaves goosebumps across your skin.
His lips leave yours to trail down to your jaw. You welcome the break, but it’s short lived as he starts nibbling at your pulse, addicted to how frantic it is under his touch. He moves down to your collarbone as his hands trail back up to your shoulders, and you moan.
“Please just let me touch you sweetheart.” He whimpers between wet kisses. He’s desperate, on edge. “Please…”
You nod your head weakly, a barely perceptible “yes” passing your lips.
Tentatively, his hands move down to your breasts, still covered by your corset, squeezing them.
“Fuck” he groans against your skin, trailing his lips back up your neck.
Your breath catches in your throat at the feel of his hands on you, and you throw your head back, bracing your hands on his knees. He wasn’t expecting this, his legs jerking at your touch.
When he jerks, his hips push into your core a little. Not much, but just enough to feel it through your jeans, and you choke.
The feel of his painfully hard cock against you - and the sounds you make - makes him want more. He rolls his hips into you again, and the way you’re feeling him on you everywhere makes you breathe a high pitched cry.
He needs to hear you do that again, rolling his hips just a fraction, over, and over, chasing your sounds more than his own pleasure.
His self control is slipping. Fast.
His fingers find the knot holding your corset together at the front and he starts undoing it, loosening the ribbons inch by inch. The more you feel your skin breathe, the more flushed and out of breath you get. You don’t know how much he can see, and part of you doesn’t want to find out, but you don’t want to stop him either.
Not anymore.
Not when the slightest graze of his skin against yours sends electricity shooting through you. Not when he adorns your neck with another gentle yet needy kiss. Not when you feel him pressing into your cunt like that, the wet patch growing in your underwear.
And even if you told him to stop, he doesn’t know that he could.
He’s been fantasising about this since he first saw you yesterday - the way your sweat glistened as it fell down your cleavage, the way your tits would feel in his hands, how sweet they’d taste in his mouth, even how your body would react when he’d brush his thumbs over your nipples.
He jerked himself off so hard last night, thinking about it all, he almost blacked out.
Finally, he’s loosened the corset enough to pry it open, revealing your already hard peaks. He grunts at the sight, certain he could burst right now.
As he lowers his head slowly, you can feel his hot, humid breath on your skin, clinging to the film of sweat covering you from the anticipation. Your eyes are still closed, your head thrown back - you have no idea what he’s doing, and that excites you so much.
You forget to breathe when his lips wrap around one of your nipples. His teeth graze against it and you whimper his name.
His head is spinning, as if you were his poison and he was tapping straight in the vein.
“Say my name sweetheart, I love hearing you whimper it” he’s almost growling the words out, primal instincts taking over.
You finally look back down at him. Your brain can’t quite comprehend what it’s seeing, but there’s no pretending this isn’t happening anymore. With the way he’s drinking you in, that line is so far behind you it’s invisible - you left it as soon as you entered the room.
He sucks your other peak, a little harder this time, and you wince, gripping his hair as a reflex.
“Stop squirming.” He grunts.
And with that, he grabs your waist and neck and flips you down onto the bed, pinning you down with his legs so you stop wriggling at his touch.
The sudden shift in attitude and position knocks the wind out of you as you land on the mattress - his move wasn’t harsh, his hand on your neck softening the blow, but it takes you completely by surprise.
He’s now towering over you - imposing.
He’s weaved his legs over yours in a way that has you completely pinned, his hands firmly on the mattress beside your head. He looks down at you, orange strands framing his face as he hovers over you, a chain appearing from under his shirt. It dangles between the two of you like a silent promise, one you reach out to grab with no hesitation, pulling him to you.
He smirks.
He knows you’ve completely released your inhibitions - you’re not fighting it anymore, you’ve accepted it. Accepted the fact that this was somehow inevitable, that there was no other possible way to break the tension between the two of you than with this.
His hand brushes over your partially exposed tits, making you shiver, and trails down towards the waistband of your jeans. Your muscles contract at his touch and you bite your lip in anticipation.
He doesn’t stop there though. His hand continues lower, until it reaches that point between your legs.
You whimper. You’ve definitely started soaking through the fabric with how much he rubbed against you earlier, and he can feel it.
“Fuck y/n, you’re so wet already…”
He rubs a little, fascinated by your body’s natural response to him.
“Need… ah…” you stutter.
“I know.”
Simple. Factual. Effortlessly confident.
Still looking into your eyes, he unbuttons your jeans with one hand, sliding the zipper down so agonisingly slow.
You pull on his chain a little harder, signaling him that you need him to be quicker, but he ignores you. He wants to savour this.
When he peels away your jeans, he notices your red lace panties.
“Planning ahead, were we?” He drawls, eyebrow raised.
“A girl’s go-otta hope.”
He chuckles, low. “I’m glad.”
Getting rid of your jeans leaves you with nothing but your underwear and the corset, now hanging on by a literal thread. It’s exhilarating and unfair.
“Your turn.”
You pull at his collar before he knows what’s happening. He finishes it off, pulling it over his head and discarding it somewhere off the bed.
Your eyes are glued to him as you rub your hands over his soft skin. His abs are peaking through his flat stomach, slight definition appearing over each muscle you touch.
He lets you explore, watching your every move as your fingers make their way to his surprisingly toned chest.
“‘s that what you were hoping for?”
You bite your lip, throat dry. “Better.”
He drops his lips to yours again, kissing you feverishly as his hand lightly rubs against the wet spot between your legs. You whimper in his mouth, rolling your hips to get more friction.
You don’t have to tell him twice.
His hand slides into your underwear, coming skin to skin with your clit and you gasp. He starts rubbing a little harder, pulling away from your lips to see the way your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open.
His own mouth mimics you, completely possessed by you and your body, as he watches your every reaction.
Your chest starts to flush from the sensation and his eyes jump down to watch, fascinated. He drops his head lower, kissing your tits again, and you weave your fingers through his hair to keep him there.
The tugging on his roots sends jolts of pleasure straight to his cock and he slips a finger inside your dripping cunt. Your back arches instantly, offering him an even better angle to relish in your tits, and he couldn’t be happier.
“You’re gonna kill me before I can fuck you y/n…” he mutters into you as he slides his finger in and out, getting off on the sloppy sounds of your arousal.
You grab his chin, tilting it up so his eyes meet yours.
“Not y-yet. Wann’ taste you.”
You can see the way his eyes grow darker as another wave of lust hits him.
He sits up on his knees, pulling you by the wrists.
“I’m all yours sweetheart.”
With that, he leans against the headboard, arms behind his head, so incredibly cocky you want to kiss him.
You go to take off his joggers but he stops you.
“Take that off first.” He says, nodding to your corset. You look down, blushing a little when you see how messy it all looks - half removed threads, and tits completely out.
You stare into his eyes as you continue untying it, slowly, painfully. Normally, you’d just open the zipper in the back and slip it off, but what’s the fun in that when you can do this instead and watch how his jaw ticks from how fucking good you look right now.
When you’ve finally freed yourself from it, tossing it somewhere far from your perfect bubble, you look at him with overly pleading eyes.
“Now can I?”
He bites his lip and nods, a little desperation peaking through.
Your fingertips slip under his waistband but you hesitate for a fraction of a second. This is huge. Like, you’re about to see him fully naked. Your stomach jumps and you smile, licking your lips.
Finally finding the courage to do it, you shimmy his joggers down, carefully, only to find out he’s not wearing any boxers, his cock jumping up as soon as you free it.
You look at him, mouth a little agape, and he snickers.
“You weren’t the only one with your hopes up.”
You weren’t ready for this. Sure, every fan likes to imagine their idol is well equipped, but you didn’t think he’d be this… packed.
You don’t move for a second, taking it all in, wondering how you’re gonna fit him in your salivating mouth. The length isn’t so much the problem, it’s the girth. How in the world will your mouth be wide enough?
“You wanted it sweetheart, now go for it.”
A tiny spark of defiance ignites inside of you.
You brace yourself as you lower your face, not breaking eye contact, and making sure your ass wiggles a little as you adjust your position. He gave you a show tonight, it’s time you return the favour.
You place your hand around the base of his shaft and he twitches. Tentatively, you start sliding it up and down, getting a feel for him and he grunts, keeping his eyes locked onto you.
Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you flatten your tongue to glide up the underside of his length. You never thought you’d say this about anyone, but gosh he tastes so good.
He tenses again and a bead of precum surfaces at his tip, which you lap up excitedly, before finally taking him in. You choke a little at first, but you quickly relax, taking as much enjoyment in this as possible.
You continue bobbing up and down as he watches you, mesmerised.
One of his hands unfolds from behind his head and comes behind yours, guiding you.
“Yeah, just like that.” He pants.
You’re welling up now from the depth his hand is making you take him, but feeling how taut his body is and hearing his tiny noises as he holds himself back makes your confidence and pleasure grow.
You come up for air for a moment, and when you look at him, the sight of your swollen, glossing lips and the single tear streak running down your cheek makes his heart skip a beat, though he tries his best to ignore it.
“C’me here.”
He pulls you to his chest, smashing his lips onto yours. You find it so hot that he doesn’t care about tasting himself on your mouth. You pull away almost instantly, desperate to feel and taste his skin as you trace his neck and torso with your lips and tongue.
Boldness has taken over you, and you welcome the sudden shift in power. His chest is rising and falling quickly now, helpless. You bite him a little on the shoulder, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make him jolt.
“You can’t do that sweetheart…”
You pout a little and he caresses your spine, soothing you.
“I know I’m sorry.”
As an apology, you linger on the spot, kissing it softly, before resuming your path down his chest and stomach. When you get low enough, you grab his cock once more, resuming your previous work, but he unexpectedly flips you over.
You stare at him in shock as he removes the hair from your face and kisses you.
“I told you I didn’t wanna come before fucking you.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat flooding your core and your cunt. You bite your lip hard as he pulls down your panties, removing the final concrete barrier between the two of you.
He kneels down between your legs and buries his face in without hesitation, very differently to how you went about things just minutes ago, and you know well and truly that your moment of dominance is over. Because with the way he’s eating you out right now, you’d stop breathing if he just asked you to.
His tongue laps up your juices, not letting a single drop go, his nose rubbing against your clit with every move.
“Hongjoong, yes, right - ah, right there.” You whimper.
You know he loves hearing you say his name, and it undoes that last bit of restraint as he stands up from the bed and starts rummaging through his bag.
“What are you doing?” You pant, empty from his loss.
“Condom.” He says as he rummages frantically through the contents. “Fuck!” He mutters under his breath.
You sit up. “Pull out.” He looks at you, unsure. “I’m on the pill. I promise.”
You’re desperate now. He can’t leave you high and dry like that.
After a second to consider his options, he crawls back on the bed and grabs your face.
“Fuck it.” He mumbles.
Relief flows through you as his fingers find your cunt again, diving knuckle deep to make sure you’re ready - as if you could be anything but after everything.
When you finally are, he pushes your back down, lifting your hips to place a pillow under you.
“Relax for me sweetheart.”
Your heart is racing as he lines himself up, and when he pushes in, despite being slow and careful, you can’t help your breathing from stopping. The stretch burns, but it burns oh so good.
He places a kiss on your cleavage as he continues pushing in, the act proving challenging for him too. “Breathe, y/n, breathe.”
Just as before, your body obeys him without thinking and your lungs start working again as you gasp for air, just as he finally bottoms out.
“You’re so fucking tight…”
“You’re to-o big.” You whimper, making him chuckle.
Fuck he can’t get enough of you, which is the complete opposite of what he wanted this night to be, but he can’t stop. You feel too good - your smell, your taste, your sounds, your body, your skin, everything. He can’t get enough.
He starts thrusting into you without warning and you shriek.
You don’t know how, but he’s already hitting that perfect spot inside of you from the first go. Your eyes roll back and your jaw slacks as he continues pounding.
He stares at you - no, more like admires you, and with every thrust, he tries to take you farther.
His cock isn’t enough. Seeing your tits bounce like that makes him hungrier still, and he starts nipping at them again with his teeth, whilst one of his hands finds your throat. A chill runs down his back at the change of pitch in your voice from the sudden drop in oxygen, but the smile on your face tells him you’re just as into it as he is.
“You’re slutty aren’t you sweetheart?”
You nod a little, not even sure what you’re nodding to, just automatically responding to him.
“How’s that feel then?” He asks as his other hand finds the space between your two bodies and starts abusing your bundle of nerves once again.
You gasp.
How can he be everywhere all at once? Your brain doesn’t know what to focus on, each thrust knocking the wind out of you whilst his teeth remind you who’s inflicting this on you.
“Hongjoong - can’t, stop, please.” You cry out on the verge of breaking.
He would, he really would, if he wasn’t hearing your every moan and feeling every squeeze of your cunt around him.
“Yes you can sweetheart. C’me on. Take it for me. Just a lil’ more.” He whispers as he increases the friction on your clit, tightening around your throat a little.
You try so hard to do what he says because your body only responds to him now. Your shrieks and whimpers are growing increasingly louder the more he consumes you, but you don’t say anything, just biting your lip and fisting the sheets.
“That’s it, such a good girl f’r me. Look how well you take my cock.” He groans.
It’s all becoming too much.
With one hand on your throat, the other rubbing your clit with painful speed, his mouth sucking and biting your tits, his cock buried so deep inside you from the pillow under your hips, and his intoxicating praises, you start screaming.
His hand flies to your mouth.
“You gotta keep quiet.” A grunt. “Seonghwa and Yunho ‘re next door - don’t want ‘em disturbing us.” He smirks. “Wouldn’t want anyone ‘n live hearing you, would you sweetheart?”
This is the final straw for you. The pleasure is immense but the pressure of keeping quiet when he’s filling you up like that makes you cry. Hot tears stream down your face as you whimper strangled cries with every thrust.
For some weird reason, seeing you cry makes him want you more. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he does want to see how much more your body can take, captivated by every response you give.
His pace increases, the slapping of skin on skin filling the room. You’re trying to keep quiet, but you wonder if the others can just hear the movements as the bed starts rattling against the wall.
You feel the pillow under your head become more humid as your tears make a growing pool. It’s so confusing that you’re reacting this way when you’ve never felt more pleasure.
He grunts more and more against your skin from the effort of his rhythm, biting you a little harder than before - you squeal. He wasn’t even trying to, but he’s now branded your skin with an array of bite marks and fast evolving hickeys. You find the irony of not being able to do the same unfair.
He’s getting close to release, but he’s not ready to stop.
He kisses your lips sloppily, brain foggy as he tries to hold himself. His moans are getting more intense and it’s driving you insane how good he sounds.
“Turn around.”
His order is followed by him pulling out of you momentarily, flipping you on your stomach, adjusting the pillow under your hips, and plunging straight back into you.
You start screaming again, but this time he can just push your head into the soaked pillow. You don’t even fight him. You can’t. He’s hitting that spongy spot inside of you even harder than before and you’re starting to see stars, fingers and toes beginning to tingle as you go numb from pleasure.
His other hand comes under you to continue playing with your tits, his obsession nowhere near satiated. He kisses and bites your shoulders and back as he goes, the pounding becoming too much to handle even for him.
“‘re you gonn’ cum sweetheart? Can you do that f’r me?” He moans against your neck.
You barely have the energy to do it but you whimper a “yes” in the pillow.
“Say my name - y-yes who.”
“Yes Hong - fuck, ngh - Hongjoong.”
“Then cum.”
As if his request gave you permission, you explode around him, the wave of your orgasm consuming you entirely. He tries his best to muffle your screams in the pillow, but it can only do so much when you have no strength left in you to keep quiet.
The way your walls squeeze around him tips him over the edge too and he pulls out quickly, just in time to spurt out on your back, the hot liquid painting your skin with white. He can’t help himself either, his moans and whimpers mingling with yours.
It takes him a few seconds to register the situation again, the high lingering in his body.
When he comes down from it, he stands up from the bed slowly, heading to the bathroom. He comes back with a towel and some water, cleaning your back gently, the complete opposite to the unrelenting man who just wrecked you.
“Have some water.” He says, rubbing your back.
You don’t move though. You can’t. Not yet. The feeling is slowly coming back to your limbs and your heart is fighting to slow down.
“Y/n?” You can hear the worry in his voice at your lack of response. “Hey, are you okay?” He’s shaking your shoulder a little.
“Mmh.” You mumble into the pillow, the only thing you can say.
He breathes a sigh of relief. “God, don’t do this to me, I thought you’d passed out.”
“S’rry.” You babble.
Aware you’re not fully back to yourself, he helps you turn onto your back, sitting you up against the headboard.
He puts his joggers back on and lays a blanket on you as you start to shiver, before coming back with the brownie you never ate. You take it gratefully, splitting it in two and handing him the other half.
“I think I’m exhausted.” You chuckle lightly.
He laughs. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You look at him sheepishly. “It is. A big one.”
He moves a strand of hair stuck to your forehead from sweat, and you take a moment to just look at each other. It’s such a bizarre situation to be in, but the nerves you had earlier are gone. This was by far the singular best experience of your life.
“Don’t worry.” You say. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He blushes and your heart jumps a little at the sight. “Sorry about that…”
“It’s okay, you didn’t force me to do this, I knew what it meant.”
“Well,” he hesitates, “for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you came. Literally and metaphorically.”
You chuckle as your cheeks heat up.
“Maybe it was a horrible idea in the long run,” he continues, “because I don’t know how I’ll be able to get you out of my head now.”
“I thought that was the whole point…”
A part of you wishes he’d say he wants you to stay, that he wants more, but you know that can’t happen.
“It was. The irony, huh?”
He gets up. “You’re gonna be okay if I leave you for a second?” He says, pointing to the bathroom.
You nod. “Of course, do what you have to do.”
As soon as the door shuts, you sigh.
Unknowingly, a small tear rolls down your cheek, the weight of the night finally dawning on you. You’ve never felt more connected to anyone in your life, and the knowledge that it has to end makes your chest pang. Knowing you’ll have to watch him from afar from now on, after what just happened, breaks your heart - but you know that’s how it has to be.
You rummage around the room, finding your scattered clothes, covering yourself back up. Moving is painful, your body protesting, but you push through. You’re hesitating on whether to leave without saying goodbye or not, when he comes out, sooner than you expected.
“What are you doing?” He quizzes as he catches you in the middle of zipping up your jeans.
“Going home?” Your answer is more of a question, like you’re asking him for permission.
“No you’re not.” He says sternly as he pulls out his phone. “It’s past 3am, you’ve had a drink, it’s cold, you’re not exactly dressed safely for public transports, and most importantly you’re exhausted. You said so yourself.”
“But-“
“This isn’t up for debate y/n. You’re staying here tonight.” His tone softens. “You don’t need to worry - I’ll call you a taxi in the morning, on me. And feel free to stay here as long as you’d like, I’ll pay for an extra night if you need, and anything you order will go on my card. Just… please, don’t leave.”
His pleading eyes win you over, and you try not to focus on how your stomach flips at how caring he is.
“Okay but… I don’t have anything…” you say, pointing to your outfit. “Also I have no makeup remover, o-or even a toothbrush!”
He walks towards his suitcase, pulling out a t-shirt and shorts.
“I think this should be comfortable enough to sleep in.” He says as he hands them to you. “As for the toothbrush and makeup remover, sweetheart, I’m an idol. I probably have more skincare than you.” He smirks. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it.”
—————-
It’s been two weeks, almost to the day, since your wild night with the captain of ATEEZ, and you think about it - about him - every day. You’ve not been able to look at footage of the new shows despite wanting to so badly, because the first time you saw him pass the mic in the crowd, you felt like crying, and you couldn’t explain why to anyone.
You never expected to feel such a pull to him after just one night, but he’s really made his mark on you - you still have the slight remnants of one or two deep hickeys to prove it.
To make matters worse, you still have his number.
You check it, multiple times a day, fingers hovering over the keys. Ultimately, you always end up locking your phone and throwing it away from you, sighing into your hands. You know you can’t, despite how much you want to.
Plus, he’s probably deleted your number by now.
As for him, the shows haven’t felt the same. Every night he checks the crowd, hoping he can spot you, miraculously, but you’re not there. He knows it’s not fair to expect you to come, especially when nothing was implied about following up the night. It’s not realistic, he knows that. His life is too busy, there’s no way it could work.
Still.
He opens his phone, the short conversation staring back at him.
He’s hesitated a few times already, knowing how horrible this idea is. It’s like two forces are pulling at him: his head - the rational part of him who knows this is wrong and would never work -, and his heart - the part of him that’s desperate to see you, just one more time.
You’re brushing your teeth, ignoring the notifications from your friends about tonight’s show highlights, when your phone lights up again. You look at it, sighing at the social media notifications of the concert.
In his room, Hongjoong’s heart sinks as the conversation now reads:
!⃝ Hey
Not delivered
---------
Like what you read and want your own story? Check out my pinned post for a link to my commissions form!
I haven’t been in enhablr for a past few weeks, and now that I’m back. I feel like the whole community is not safe for anyone anymore, especially sweet and kind writers like si3rren, she was one of my fav writers, and I regret not getting to know her better, but I know one thing for sure, she was a sweetheart, she made everyone comfortable and her writings were amazing. I don’t how someone can be so jealous, and start accusing her of smth she never did. Fuck the confession blog and fuck the accuser. She deleted her blog, that shows how much it hurt her. Enhablr is NOT a safe place anymore.
This has made me hesitant to start writing again. And that’s sad, and what’s even more sadder is that talented writers are leaving. I hope whoever is behind all this suffers.
⠀ ㅤsummary ⋮ㅤㅤ in whichㅤ jake's college crush turns into something more.
⠀ ㅤwarnings ⋮ㅤㅤ smut⠀ fluffㅤ the word alcohol is said onceㅤ not proof read.
FALL
it's the third time this week. it's only wednesday. your attempts to focus on the endless rambling of your chemistry professor are all futile, you're too busy trying to ignore someone's burning gaze into your back.
jake is the campus heartthrob, the guy none of your friends can shut up about, and the guy who sits two rows behind you in chemistry. you shift uncomfortably, glancing back subtly.
subtly my ass.
jake catches your eyes then hurriedly turns back to the professor, clearing his throat.
it didn't help that the only class you had with jake was the only class you didn't have any friends in.
you scrunch your eyebrows before sighing and checking your watch. 12:58. only two minutes until lunch, you told yourself.
the professor's incessant speech finally came to a halt. you had never bolted so fast out of class.
jake blinked, quickly packing his stuff and catching up with your quick pace.
"wait-!" he calls out, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
you walk faster but freeze when you feel a hand on your shoulder. you turn around to a smirking jake, panting lightly and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.
"yn, right?"
this was the first time since he's made an effort to interact with you, at least since his constant staring started a couple weeks ago.
you've bumped into him a couple times before. he'd usually be with his clique; sunghoon, jay, and heeseung. popular delinquents who do nothing but smoke, fuck, and day drink. god knows the only way they're still in this school is by the will of their disgustingly rich parents.
you snap back into the present.
"um, yeah." you reply dryly.
jake laughs and looks down at his shoes. "you have a partner to do the chem work with?"
you shift your weight to your other leg and cross your arms.
"no."
"cool. i'll come over at 7. text me your address." he tugs you forward with one hand and uncaps a pen with the other. he scribbles his number on your arm. "don't forget."
he walks away, quietly cheesing to himself. did he actually just do that?
you watch his retreating figure, dumbfounded. what. the. fuck? talk about cliche.
back at your apartment, you sit on the kitchen stool while your roommates, yunjin and hanni, are busy trying to make instant ramen look gourmet and singing off-key in the kitchen in front of you.
you had written down jake's number on a piece of paper earlier. now your fingers hover over the keyboard.
"hey jake! it's yn!" too enthusiastic. delete.
"yooo" are you a fuckboy? delete.
after the longest 10 minutes of your life, you settle on a simple "hey."
you set your phone down with a huff and tap your fingers impatiently on the counter.
why does this affect you so much? god..
a high-pitched beep sounds from your phone. your body stiffens. was he waiting for your text? you check the time. 6:33. you huff again, but this time, your roommates notice.
"yn? you sound like you're begging for attention." hanni teases.
your eyes flick up, suddenly aware of their presence. "huh? nothing. just.. my lab partner says he's coming over at 7. for some work."
"ooh, is he cute?" yunjin asks with a curious grin. "our yn is finally getting some action."
your nose bunches up. "ew, shut up! it's not like that."
the pair try to pry some more information about the mystery lab partner, but you tune them out and check the text.
"yn?" it reads. you react with a thumbs up.
another message.
"jake is requesting your location."
you type out your address and send.
"omw."
at exactly 7:04, there's a knock at the door. you open it and before you stands jake. black sweatpants, black shirt, and phone in hand. he looked.. different. his hair was fluffier, messier than usual, and he wasn't wearing glasses.
"uh, hey." you step aside. "come in."
he walks in, taking in the nature of your apartment. kitchen bare (save a few takeout bags), couch worn and sagging, and a full shoe rack that makes it obvious you don't live alone.
"nice apartment." he notes.
you give a hum of acknowledgement. "thanks." you nod towards your room. "we can work there."
he takes a couple long strides as he follows you into your room. as you go to shut the door, hanni and yunjin are staring at you, jaws slack.
"jake?!" they mouth. you swat your hand at them and the door clicks shut.
you take a seat on the edge of your bed and jake settles into your desk chair, turning around to face you.
his voice cuts into the awkward silence.
"sooo, should we start?"
"right."
jake stayed for a little over an hour. the two of you made pretty good headway on the assignment, even with his frequent stares.
he left that night with the promise of coming back the next, for the assignment of course. you weren't done yet.
jake kept his promise, returning the next day, earlier than the day prior. 6:55.
this time, the air felt lighter. more jokes were exchanged and less work was done.
the third day was a friday, your 4th and final chem lesson of the week. jake didn't take his usual seat, he took the one right next to you, on the left.
that was the first time you couldn't pay attention in chemistry. jake distracted you with small talk and constantly pestered you with stupid questions he obviously knew the answer to.
jake was focused on another kind of chemistry.
"so.. same time today? we just have a page left."
you considered saying no. tried convincing yourself to not get involved with jake sim. but you were in too deep. way deeper than you should be with a friend you made three days ago.
"yeah, sure." you said despite yourself.
WINTER
november flew by fast and before you knew it, the crisp autumn air became chilly and frosty in preparation for the winter, the memory of those three october evenings still fresh in your mind.
it's not like you haven't had any memorable days since, you've way too many. you suddenly found jake beside you every chance he got.
"can i see your notes?" as he leans over your shoulder, breath ghosting your neck.
"want me to walk you to class?" even though his next class was on the other side of campus.
you couldn't help but find it endearing. he cared a lot for a friend.
yunjin and hanni have gotten used to jake coming over, staying for dinner and hearing you two talk for hours.
"cmon, you're always eating takeout. let's have a real meal." jake coaxes one day after a study session at the library.
you open your phone. 8:45. "jake, it's already getting late." a smile grows on your face regardless. you were fully prepared to accept his offer but wanted him to work for it a bit.
"we'll be fast. 20 minutes. i know a place."
you stare at him sternly. "it's not a date."
jake scoffs but bites the inside of his cheek. "a date? how dare you even suggest it's anything remotely close." he gives a little tug to your jacket sleeve.
"let's go."
he ends up taking you to a small cafe. tucked into a small corner and practically empty. you sit across from each other, legs knocking awkwardly.
after a beat of silence, conversation flows naturally like it has been recently, like you're old friends.
your food just got served and jake's fork is already sneaking its way onto your plate.
"jake!" you laugh and push his hand away.
he still manages to grab a piece and stuffs it in his mouth, chewing with a triumphant grin.
your hand lingers on his wrist for a few more seconds before you quickly pull away. you look up only to find him staring already. his eyes held something unreadable, the same look he would give you when you got too close or told him a stupid childhood story.
you finished your meals with only a couple sentences exchanged after that.
"..food's good."
"mhm." he replies, mouth full.
jake walked you back home that night. 9:55. it offended him that you thought he'd make you go alone.
you walked side by side, cold air biting at your cheeks. your jacket sleeves kept rubbing against each other. at one point, your pinkies hooked together. jake pulled away, fast enough that you'd barely registered the contact. he shoved his hand into his pocket and suddenly found the streetlamps extremely fascinating.
five minutes and two knocks later, hanni opened your apartment door. her gaze shifted from you to jake, who stood behind you like a protective shadow.
you waved and whispered a quiet "g'night, jake" before stepping into the warm embrace of your home. safe to say his brain short-circuited.
he smiles in response before sighing once you closed the door. he runs a hand over his face, silently cursing the faint throb growing in his jeans.
another 15 minutes and jake is back on campus. well, the dorms. he braced himself before opening the door, praying he doesn't see one of his dormmates in a compromising position with a girl. wouldn't be the first time.
thankfully, he was met with sunghoon and heeseung scrolling mindlessly on their phones, some forgotten movie playing on the tv.
the door shuts with a soft click. the flat smelled like sweat, cologne, and an underlying scent of alcohol.
jay seemed to be the only (somewhat) productive one. jake heard him playing his guitar through the closed door of his room.
"he's practicing a song for his girl." sunghoon says, eyes still glued to the small screen. "said she's into talented guys or something." heeseung snorts.
jake laughs briefly then makes a beeline for the shower. the tension in his body eases immediately once the warm water makes contact with his skin.
he looks down at his semi hard cock. god. she was just a friend. that's what he'd been telling himself these last two months. nothing more.
clearly, his body betrayed him.
jake was a man of little self restraint, he couldn't help it. his right hand grasped the base of his cock firmly, precum already starting to dribble from the tip.
he groaned at the contact and began pumping himself slowly. the pace quickly grew, eyes shut and brows knit in concentration. all he saw behind his eyelids was you, on your knees. he pretended it was you pleasuring him and not his own palm.
"fuck, yn.." he moaned, sound drowned in the loud rush of water from the shower head.
jake fucked his fist helplessly, so eager to cum, when hot, white spurts shot from his bright red tip. he stroked himself slowly, riding off of every last wave of pleasure he could.
he cleaned up and left the bathroom with a little guilt weighing on his shoulders. jake didn't want to be like his friends, lustful and uncommitted. he was completely devoted to you. he didn't want anyone else.
winter break came and went, and not a single day went by where jake didn't text you. his infatuation bloomed into something deeper, especially in your absence.
once you'd returned from visiting your parents, jake was unashamed when it came to telling you how much he missed you.
"it was only a couple weeks."
"felt longer." he'd shrug.
then you fell right back into your old rhythm.
the tension between the two of you felt thicker. neither of you denied it nor said it out loud, but jake said a lot with his body language.
constant touching.
he'd started testing boundaries. hand holding, friendly hugs, and finding any excuse possible to be near you.
slowly, your defenses dropped. you stopped pushing his hand away, stopped trying to put space between you and completely fell into it.
sleepovers became habit. jake never complained about sleeping on the couch in the corner of your room, as long he was with you.
"he's into you." yunjin blurts out one day, right after jake leaves after spending yet another night.
your head snaps to her. "no he doesn't! he's just.. a friend." you mutter unconvincingly.
"uh huh. keep telling yourself that." she walks away with a knowing smile.
part of you knew she was right.
SPRING
you don't know it happened. it just did.
you had woken up to the sound of the running shower, the couch jake occupied the night before empty.
stepping out of your room, the house seemed quiet. you notice a little note on the fridge.
"me n hanni went to the library. be back in a few hours!
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀-yunjin"
oh.
you return to your room just in time to hear the shower turn off. a few minutes later and jake emerges from the bathroom, still tugging his slightly wet shirt down and hair damp.
"morning." he flops down on the bed next to you.
"hey." a pause. "yunjin and hanni are out."
the information hangs in the air for a second, like he's processing it, then he nods.
you quickly escape the awkward silence by opening your phone and scrolling. jake clears his throat and shuffles closer to watch with you, his head almost leaning on top of yours.
you laugh at a video and turn to show him, only to find him way too close already.
both your breaths hitch. he gulps.
two seconds pass. neither moves.
"fuck it."
jake closes the distance and your lips meet.
it started off slow, experimental, but it turns heated fast once you reciprocate.
you hitch a leg over his thighs and plant your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. his own hands finds purchase on your waist, pulling you closer until you were flush against each other.
the both of you soon realized making out wasn't enough. clothes flew fast, littering the floor.
jake carefully laid you against the mattress as he kneeled in front of your spread legs.
"fuck.. so beautiful.."
he gripped the base of his thick shaft and used the tip to gather the slick shining from your entrance.
he placed one lingering kiss on your forehead before lining himself up.
"shh, gonna make you feel good, mkay?" he coaxes and you nod.
he teases himself, pushing the head in and giving a couple shallow thrusts before bottoming out completely.
you both gasp at the new sensation. he stretched you so perfectly, painful but so delicious.
"jake.." you pant.
"i know, just-" you clench around him. "fuck-! you can't.. don't do that."
he tried to take it slow, he really did, but you made it so easy to give in. he started moving, setting a slow but deep pace.
his hips rolled against yours, driving himself far into your aching cunt. you swallow him greedily and let out the sweetest moans.
sweat beads on jake's forehead. "shit, baby. you close?" voice rough and restrained.
you nod frantically, fingers pulling at the sheets as you feel the pressure tipping.
he speeds up, hands secure on your hips. "ahh- fuck, me too..!"
the knot in your belly snaps and you cum with a long moan. "mmh!"
jake pulls out with a soft pop, desperately stroking his cock. he groans - no, borderline moans - as he finally releases his seed all over your stomach. he pumps his length a few more times, milking himself dry.
he looks down at the mess you both made and can't help but laugh. he collapses next to you and nuzzles into your side.
"what's funny?" you ask once you've come down from your high.
"nothin' cutie. you're just.."
you look at him. "i'm what?"
he tucks a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear. "you're pretty."
you hum, eyes shutting as the exhaustion takes over you. he gives your cheek a final peck.
"don't worry, the day can wait.." he whispers.
this "fling" turned out to be one of many. often multiple times a week, jake would come over, fuck you stupid, then just.. leave.
he still walked you to class, took you to cafes and study non-dates. it all felt weirdly platonic. you weren't sure if you wanted it to stay that way.
the thought was gnawing at jake, too. it ate him alive every time he saw your body knowing you weren't his. he was going to ask you. soon.
jake had slept over again. the bathroom door was cracked open, smoke creeping out. you caught a glimpse of jake brushing his teeth in the mirror, shirtless.
you crawl out of bed and find him there.
"hi." you smile, coming up behind him to wrap your arms around his toned torso. you peeked your head over his shoulder to catch his eyes in the mirror.
his hand stopped moving. his toothbrush stuck out of his mouth and the bubbly toothpaste lined his lips.
he blinked once, expression blank like some confused puppy.
"be my girlfriend." he says through a mouthful of toothpaste, barely comprehending the weight of his statement.
your eyebrows shoot up. "what?"
"be my girlfriend." he repeats more confidently. "be mine. i've never wanted anyone as much as i want you. be mine yn. please." he pleads.
your heart skips a beat, hands loosening around his waist.
"um.. jake, i-"
"don't." he turns to face you. "you know you want it too." a stupid grin painting his foamy lips.
you can't stop the wide smile you give him. he looked so jake. not the jake everyone on campus knew, the jake that only you knew.
the one who's accent makes you laugh, the one who can't not hold a conversation, the one who fucked you so raw and good..
that was the jake that was only yours.
you swallow down all your nerves. it's an easy choice: risk losing a close friend, or become more than just close friends. an easy choice that was decided with a quiet:
"okay."
jake froze. "okay? i mean- yeah, yeah. cool. well, it's just like-"
you cut him off with a soft kiss, toothpaste and all. you pull away slowly.
"i like you, jake. like, a lot."
pause.
"oh- yeah! i- i like you too." he says sheepishly.
i laugh and kiss him again, arms locking behind his neck.
finally.
SUMMER
your thighs, exposed by your jean shorts, stuck to the chair. the air had grown thick and sticky, and it was not working in your favor.
3:58.
two minutes left in your last class of junior year and all you could think about was summer with your boyfriend.
jake promised you the greatest, most strees free months of your life, and you believed him. 100%.
you found him exiting the class chatting with heeseung. his eyes found yours immediately and bolted, not even bothering to wave goodbye to his friend.
heeseung rolled his eyes and went to catch up with jay and sunghoon.
you meet jake halfway, his figure engulfed yours in the comforting warmth you've grown accustomed to.
"bae, i swear, i'm gonna take you to the beach every week. we're gonna watch the sunrise- or sunset. whatever you want-" he slings an arm over your shoulder as he continues ranting and leading you away from campus.
he sighs and kisses your cheek dramatically.
"it'll be the summer of your life, baby."
an: holyyy writing long form fanfic is NOT for the weak omg anywho this is my first time writing like this feedback is appreciatedddd accepting reqs!
none of you know who i am. which is why i am posting this. siren left. siren left and some people arent talking about this. some people did not speak about this. some people did not defend her. some people did not stand up for her. “taken out of proportion” and it is her getting doxxed and getting rape and death threats. she poured her heart out. was there for other people (people she didnt even know), was vulnerable, had a comforting blog (a fuck ton of people agree). she did not deserve any of this. if you were friends with her and did not speak up you should actually be ashamed of yourself. jealousy is real. and it eats. bye. oh and before you start making assumptions and accusations (bc ya’ll love to do that) i am not siren. i will be deleting this app. so you can argue with a wall. xx
ps- look. no one’s saying you’re obligated to speak up. no one’s asking for a dramatic post or performative support. but if you’ve actually talked to her — if you’ve spent time getting to know her, if you’ve had real conversations with her, interacted with her, called her a friend — then yeah. you should’ve said something. she was doxxed. she got rape threats. death threats. she was dragged and accused over and over again for something she didn’t even do. and the silence from people she trusted? that’s what cut the deepest. and sure, if you didn’t know the full story, or you weren’t active, or you’re just on the outside — fine. no one’s blaming you. but if you knew her, and you knew what she went through, and you still stayed quiet? why? why pretend it wasn’t that serious? why talk around it instead of saying her name?
none of you know who i am. which is why i am posting this. siren left. siren left and some people arent talking about this. some people did not speak about this. some people did not defend her. some people did not stand up for her. “taken out of proportion” and it is her getting doxxed and getting rape and death threats. she poured her heart out. was there for other people (people she didnt even know), was vulnerable, had a comforting blog (a fuck ton of people agree). she did not deserve any of this. if you were friends with her and did not speak up you should actually be ashamed of yourself. jealousy is real. and it eats. bye. oh and before you start making assumptions and accusations (bc ya’ll love to do that) i am not siren. i will be deleting this app. so you can argue with a wall. xx
ps- look. no one’s saying you’re obligated to speak up. no one’s asking for a dramatic post or performative support. but if you’ve actually talked to her — if you’ve spent time getting to know her, if you’ve had real conversations with her, interacted with her, called her a friend — then yeah. you should’ve said something. she was doxxed. she got rape threats. death threats. she was dragged and accused over and over again for something she didn’t even do. and the silence from people she trusted? that’s what cut the deepest. and sure, if you didn’t know the full story, or you weren’t active, or you’re just on the outside — fine. no one’s blaming you. but if you knew her, and you knew what she went through, and you still stayed quiet? why? why pretend it wasn’t that serious? why talk around it instead of saying her name?
