EN -- ⁷ ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶

17 engene since 2023

[wondash]

I fucking hate those TikTok engenes glorifying Enhypen’s competitive ED and promoting it with a hashtag of #toxicmotivation. Or a video with a text says “Heeseung left effect is real” and it’s just a video showing Jungwon and Riki a clip of them being skinny to the bones as fuck like they’re normalizing the abuse Enhypen is going through and encouraging other engenes to go through the same way just because Heeseung left. I’m sorry BUT WHAT THE FUCK. So unnecessary BY THE WAY. This is like my 4th seeing a toxic motivation of Enhypen after Heeseung’s departure. Not something to really joke about it on the internet. And the fact the rest of Enhypen members are going through extreme food restrictions and competitive ED and yet some of their fans are seeing their body was a motivation of starving/loosing weight. It’s literally so disrespectful towards ENHYPEN. Since when is their suffering and hardship became something to fantasize?

The “Heeseung diet after he left is real” very misleading video btw. There are young engenes around in the internet ESPECIALLY TIKTOK that will obviously be influenced of this mindset because they’re innocent, naive, and young to understand what life waits ahead of them. Just letting you know, saying stuffs like these isn’t going to help whether Heeseung is going to be back or not because we don’t have a clue. And now you’re saying that you’re losing weight because he left the group is so weird to me. Okay so what if he fucking dies in a car crash that does mean you’re going to jump off the rooftop or something? Following a stranger’s footsteps. Someone’s life that doesn’t know you is quite concerning and I hope you seek immediate help for it. Still, this video is promoting bad habits that is UNNECESSARY to post. Optional. Sometimes there are such thoughts that we should keep ourselves and never post it on the internet. This is also a disrespect to Heeseung and to the members themselves because they’re obviously going through competitive ED and they don’t want their fans to be compelled by it. I might be too woke but idc, loosing weight because of your idol’s departure from the group is something…Like we can be sad or even upset about it but dang in a way of extent of trying to actively wither away in life is insane btw.

In other simple words, shit is just adding more salt into the wound. You’re not helping. You’re not healing. You’re fucking destroying yourself like a mentally ill and deranged person and also destroying other people’s lives by this mindset.

And you don’t know ENHYPEN and neither ENHYPEN knows you so literally this whole thing is fucking stupid and seeks help from a mental asylum.

[sikoi]

me looking up the definition of a word i totally know the meaning of i just have to make sure it didn’t change for some reason or i made it up

[arelyvn]

SHARING IS CARING - PSH & SJY

who knew having two guys wanting you could feel so good, especially when its your hot best friend, park sunghoon, and the new australian transfer student, sim jaeyun. why choose one when you could have both?

park sunghoon + sim jaeyun x fem!reader

genre: college/hockey au

content warnings: smut, very suggestive, jealous/possessive themes, mean dom sunghoon, soft dom (almost sub?) jake, threesome, pussy eating, slapping, fingering, squirting, cum eating, it gets messy. dry humping, boob obsessed jake! teasing, sexting, unprotected sex, slight size kink, morally grey characters, y/n loves the attention (she pretends she doesn’t), they bring her freak out but who wouldn’t for jakehoon? featuring: heeseung and jay, this is pretty much porn with a plot btw..

word count: 15k

Every university has its sport, football, baseball, basketball, you name it. Crimson University has them all of course. But where they really specialize in, is Hockey. 

One of the most intense sports played on ice. Especially by your school's team. Aggressive would be an understatement, it's straight up brutal in that rink. 

You used to wonder what it felt like, the adrenaline rush. But watching became more your speed. Which is why you’re standing a few feet away from your university's hockey team, the players standing up, sticks banging against the boards, shouting as Park Sunghoon lands a punch on an opponent from the other team. 

You shouldn’t even be surprised either, considering he's always been terrible at keeping his anger in, and that this sport is the only way he tends to get it out. 

You two have been friends for a while, if 5 years could be considered that. Back when he was bench warming at your high school Hockey teams game as freshmen, you were taking yearbook photos. Funny how it's almost parallel to what's happening at this very moment. 

Except, Park Sunghoon is now one of the best players on the team, Hell— maybe even in the country. And you’re majoring in journalism, getting photos for the weekly newsletter.

You thought that once he reached big league status after you both got accepted into Crimson University, he'd maybe forget about you..?

But that's far from the truth, how could he? You were the one person who actually tried to get to know him in highschool, when he was just some twig to snap on the ice.

Yeah, it was for a yearbook interview you had to do. But you always had good intentions, and he looked like he needed someone to sit with at lunch that day. You've both seen each other at your best and worst, deepest secrets tucked in each other's hearts– and since then you two have been pretty much inseparable. 

Everyone erupts into shouts, pure chaos in the rink, and out. The other teams student section yelling, and yours mirroring that. The hockey stick in Sunghoon's hand is long forgotten as he slams the other guy against the glass barrier, shaking it completely.

Your team's coach is blowing his whistle, yelling, but it's not enough. You watch as the boys on the rink skate over attempting to separate them, Lee Heeseung; Team captain making it there first, attempting to force Sunghoon off of the poor guy. 

Park Jongseong or Jay as the team calls him, takes his other side, yelling at Sunghoon, telling him to stop, and that it's just “going to make shit worse”.

Sunghoon's fist is raised in the air, inches away from the guy in front of him who decided now was the time to make a comment about you. “Hoon— man we need you, don’t fuck it up.” Heeseung says. Placing a hand on his shoulder. 

You watch from a distance as Sunghoon lowers his fist, pushing off the guy and stepping back, picking up his hockey stick to skate back to the other side. 

The coach doesn’t even have to say anything because Sunghoon goes straight into the penalty box. And he knows he’s going to hear that shit later in the locker room.

You glance over at him a few feet away from you, shaking your head as he takes off his helmet, his sweat clad hair sticking to his forehead. He sets it on the ground more aggressively than needed.

The rest of the team skates back over to the bench gates, gathering around the coach, most likely discussing who they are going to sub in for Sunghoon. 

He looks over at you as the boys go back on ice, taking position, you adjust your camera lens, trying to get the best shots you can of your school's Hockey team. You catch him looking from the corner of your eye.

Gesturing to the penalty box he’s sitting in, you mouth the words "That's what you get” before focusing back on your camera, he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. But God knows if anyone else had said that, they’d be in deep shit.

Five minutes later they put him back on the ice, the score now a whopping 5-4, Crimson Ville in the lead of course. One minute left in the third period, there's no doubt they are taking the win. Your eyes drift to the other team and their student section still trying to stay just as hyped as yours even if they know exactly what's going to happen. 

Everyone was on their feet, the players making noise, cheers coming from all around as Heeseung passes the puck to Jay, you watch as a player from the opposite team rams into him, attempting to steer him off track, Jay manages to knock it over to another player, who gets it taken by someone from the opposite team.

Sunghoon comes in full force, nearly knocking him off his feet, shoulder ramming into him as he takes the puck, skating across the ice, inching closer and closer, Sunghoon looks for the familiar 07 jersey, spotting him immediately, Heeseung. He's quick to pass it over to him, Heeseung dodges a player coming at him, getting even closer to the goal

Jay covers him, bumping into a player on Heeseung's ass, the shouts grow louder as he gets closer to the Goal, everything is going how they planned the play, just when the goalie thinks Heeseung is going to hit the puck in, Sunghoon comes in on the other side, giving Heeseung a clear opening to pass it to him. It's a flash of Red, black, and white jerseys as Sunghoon knocks the puck into the goal, the opposite team's goalie caught completely off guard by the switch up.

Everyone abrupts into screams and shouts, cheering on, chanting their names, you watch as the boys from Crimson ville step over the boards, skating over to Sunghoon and Heeseung, slapping them on their helmets encouragingly.

Sunghoon looks at the crowd in the stands, before holding up his hockey stick in dramatic victory, smile bright on his face as the crowd cheers even louder, you capture the moment through your camera lens perfectly. 

With it being the first game of the season, of course there's a celebration, especially since Crimson Ville won.

Sunghoon insisted on you going, the Party being held in his shared place with Jay and Heeseung. You were familiar with the place considering you came often, and also since it was kind of a hot spot for the parties here at Uni ever since Freshman year. 

You try to adjust to the smell of alcohol, sweat, and something else as you enter the house, some loud rap song playing on their obnoxiously big speakers, lights flickering, people shouting, all still buzzing from the win.

The place was packed to the brim, bodies crowded, swaying. You and your friend, who happens to be the coaches daughter, both give each other a look. 

“Im gonna find Yunjin and them, you’re gonna be alright?” She asks, standing on her tip toes to somewhat observe the crowd, you offer a nod and smile as she squeezes through, disappearing in the sea of bodies.

“Y/N!” you’d recognize that voice anywhere, some heads turn as none other than Park Sunghoon approaches you, red solo cup in hand, Jersey rolled up to act as a sleeveless shirt, he throws his arm around your shoulder in the way he normally does. 

People used think you two were dating—They’d look at you and say “Oh y/n, nah she’d never get with a guy like him. She has too much respect for herself to do that.” since he’s sort of developed a reputation for himself, one that includes fucking girls and never anything more.

You tried to tell him it's wrong to do that, but he tends to give excuses like “I never promised them anything.” You roll your eyes as he guides you to the kitchen where you recognize the other players' faces. 

“Aye, look who made it,” Heeseung says, pouring you a drink. “Someone wouldn't stop begging me too.” You eye Sunghoon who raises his hands innocently, not even bothering to hide the grin on his face. You take the drink from Heeseung, sipping a little before nearly gagging. 

“God– what did you put in this, its radioactive” You stick your tongue out in a disgusted manner earning a laugh from him, “Jay mixed a bunch of shit together, apparently its one of his famous mixed drinks” Sunghoon mocks, getting a light shove from Jay who sniffs the drink in his cup “Its not even that bad– fuck, okay never mind.” He sets his cup down earning even more laughs. 

Some more people fill up the kitchen, you prop yourself up on the counter, Sunghoon leans against it beside you. “So, get any good photos of me?” He asks, looking at you. “If you’re talking about the way you clip farmed at the end, then yes.” You stifle a laugh, “You know my best angles baby” He winks, you shove his shoulder, he holds it dramatically faking hurt making you laugh even harder.

You watch as a girl approaches him, no surprise with that. Dress clinging to her body, his gaze immediately drops to her chest before looking at her face. You take that as your sign to hop off the counter, he opens his mouth to call back for you but the girl already takes her chance, and you definitely don't want to know what she has to say. 

You spot your friends on the couch, some clinging to the other players on the team, “-some big shot guy from Australia?” Jay questions, leaning over Heeseung's phone.

“Yeah– my dad said he's like really good, that's why he's transferring here.” Your friend says, repeating the words of the team's coach, You walk over, sitting in the open seat next to her on the couch, Heeseung on the other side. “Who are you guys talking about?” You ask over the loud music, 

“Holy shit– He scored 56 goals last season?” Jay exclaims, scrolling on Heeseung's phone, “Man this guys something serious.” One of the other teammates says.

Heeseung leans forward to look at you, “We're getting a new transfer student, some university in Australia, I've been communicating with him a bit over break. He was supposed to be here for today's game but he couldn't make it– pretty sure he flies in on Sunday.”

Heeseung says casually eyes drifting to Jay who is now going through Heeseung's messages where he was in fact communicating with said transfer student. “Wait, is this why we still haven't accepted any offers for the extra room?” Jay asks curiously

“Yeah, he said he’d pay his side of the rent and everything, plus if he's as chill as he seems, he'll get along just right with us.” Heeseung says before snatching his phone from Jay before he sees something he shouldn't. 

“Whats his name?” You ask, brow raised. “Jake Sim. Coach already has his Jersey ready, hes excited as fuck too.” Your friend chuckles, “Yeah it's all he's been talking about if it's not you, Jay or Sunghoon.” Your friend mumbles to Heeseung who says something low enough that you can't hear it. 

You space out, the name sounds oddly familiar, Jake Sim..

That's when it clicks, you remember reading over the message from the Honors Society, the one where you were chosen to give a tour and help a new student, which is completely normal for those in the Program.

But now you know who that student is, Jake Sim. You don't say anything about it as conversation switches. But you know you’ll definitely look into it later. 

Your eyes follow everyone else's as the team whistles, watching as Sunghoon holds the hand of the same girl from earlier, leading her up the stairs.

He offers them all the finger before disappearing. “He better be done by the time it clears out.” Jay mutters, running a hand through his hair, Heeseung chuckles knowingly.

You tilt your head questioning, “Last time he had some chick in there who couldn't keep her mouth shut for the life of her, screaming and shit–” Jay says, you cut him off “Okay, ew–” You make a disgusted face, earning a laugh from your friends.

“Girl, I don't know how you deal with him.” One of your friends say, legs swung over another players lap, you shrug offering a smile as the topic switches.

Normally you don't really stay to clean up at their place, considering it would quite literally be around 2-3 am by the time everyone clears out.

But you wanted to hear more about this Jake Sim everyone seems so eager about. “What made him want to transfer here?” You ask Heeseung curiously, washing the remains in a few used solo cups down the sink.

He throws some empty cans in a trashbag, not bothering to look at you “It was his best option, apparently he's smart as hell too.” He says casually, moving around the kitchen, putting away any extra alcohol leftover. “Oh..” You look down at your feet before washing out the sink. 

“Alright backyards good, im not going any further because I dont know what im going to step into, especially with the lightweights who throw up everywhere and shit.” Jay says, shutting the glass slide door behind him.

“Did your friends head out y/n?” He asks, looking around. Heeseung's head pops up at that “Yeah, I wasn't going to make them stay to clean up.” You chuckle dryly. 

“Plus, Sunghoon said he’d give me a ride.” You smile at the both of them, they give each other a look, one that you don't see before shutting off the sink and drying your hands off with a paper towel. 

“Alright, but if he doesn’t come down in the next 30 minutes, Jay can take you.” Heeseung says, Jay makes an offended expression “Dude, I need my beauty sleep too–”

All three of your eyes shift to the sound of a door slamming upstairs, the culprit coming into sight right after.

The same girl from earlier that Sunghoon had brought up stomping angrily down the stairs, her steps faltering when she sees the three of you watching her with confused faces. Heeseung shakes his head knowingly before focusing back on cleaning up. 

Her eyes immeditly land on you, “Fuck are you looking at?” She looks you up and down before moving to the front door, you don't say anything as she slams that one behind her as well.

“I don’t even want to know what he did.” Jay says, rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’ll go talk to him.” You brush past both of them, making your way up the stairs. Your hand hovers over the handle, ultimately deciding to knock–just in case.

“Didn’t change my mind.” Sunghoon says, irritation leaking from his tone, your brows furrow before speaking up “Sunghoon, it's me.” He doesn't have to ask who, by now he's recognized the sound of your voice.

He opens the door for you 5 seconds later, you observe his room to see his clothes from earlier now discarded on the floor beside his messy bed. Hockey trophies stacked neatly along his shelf. Your eyes land on him, the grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, the black Calvin Klein branded boxers poking out.

“Put some clothes on.” You move past him, picking up a white tank top hanging on his desk chair and throwing it at his chest. He chuckles before putting it on and shutting the door, laying on his bed causally. 

He leans against his pillows, arms resting behind his head as he watches you. “Come’re” He pats the spot next to him, you slip off your sneakers before sitting down beside him.

“She seemed pretty upset.” You look down at him warily, he tries not to smile at your expression “Don’t worry about it, just lay with me for a little.” He says, wrapping his hand around your waist and pulling you flush against him. 

You relax into his hold, hand resting on his chest “You still need to drive me home.” You mutter, eyes already feeling drowsy as his large hand flattens on your hair. “Says the one falling asleep.” He chuckles when your hand lightly hits him, practically tickling. “Shut up..” You mumble, curling deeper into his arms. 

-

Sunday comes sooner than you expected, you made a note to set your alarm so you could get to the Honors Society building early, collecting the papers you need, including Jake Sim’s printed schedule.

You check your phone, smoothing down the front of your sweater and jeans before walking towards the main lobby. 

“-Oh yeah, it's beautiful here. So much more different than home.” Your eyes find the sound immediately, the thick Australian accent cutting through your senses.

You observe him from behind, his dark washed jeans, to the white shirt with the words "Brisbane Hockey Championship" on the back. The girl, who you recognize as another student in the Honors Society smiling ear to ear while talking to him. 

You walk closer, folder held in your hand. “Jake Sim?” You question, his eyes fall on you, taking you in. And to say this man was handsome was an understatement, he’s straight up gorgeous

“That's me” He smiles boyishly at you, eyes falling to your lips for a split second. Great, a natural flirt too.

“I'm y/n, you’re here for your schedule and tour right?” You ask, tilting your head. “Nice to meet you, y/n” He holds out his hand, you try not to smile at the formal gesture before shaking his, he holds it a second too long before letting go. 

“Ill see you around, yeah?” He turns to the girl sitting down, she nods eagerly earning a chuckle from him before he falls into step beside you.

“So, Australia?” You ask, leading him outside the building, the sun beaming down on the campus. He looks down at you, “Accents that strong huh?” He asks playfully, “It’s not everyday we get a transfer from there.” You smile politely, opening the folder in your hand. 

You hand him his schedule filled with the courses he chose, mirroring his credits from Australia, “You’re lucky, a lot of those are in the same area” You lean over, pointing. He nods, catching the faint smell of your peach scented shampoo. “Guess it's better we’re doing this on a Sunday then” He smiles, walking beside you. 

After finishing the tour early, you and Jake had moved to the Hockey rink, he asked if he could see it since that's where he was going to be playing until he graduated from here.

You were happy to show him, but being you, wanting to fill the silence, accidentally brought up the story about the time you were sitting in this exact spot with your group of friends. It was freshman year before the first game of the season, which also happened to be your birthday.

Sunghoon decided it was the perfect time to surprise you with the rest of the team, unfortunately with a pink birthday stash and tiara, while encouraging everyone in the stands to sing happy birthday to you.

Jake was cheesing ear to ear at the story, you cringing in embarrassment. “Some friends you got yourself” He had said, chuckling. You didn't tell him it was Sunghoon, you don't know why either.

You don't know how long you two have been sitting here, just talking. Jake was the kind of person you could easily get along with, where conversation flowed.

He had nudged your shoulder jokingly calling you “princess” the nickname making a slight blush coat your cheeks, especially said with his accent.

Jake tries to be a respectful guy, he really does. But one thing about him is that he loves women. God– everything about them, so he was excited to come here, not only for hockey but also to see what this university could provide for him, sex wise maybe.

You lean your head back, laughing at something he said, his eyes trail down your neck, to the curve of your breast beneath your sweater before looking at your face again. 

His phone goes off in his pocket, he reads the message across his screen from Heeseung saying that he's free to come by and get settled any time today.

You tilt your head as he stands up, helping you off the stands, you two walk next to each other like it's natural, stepping outside into the warm air. You turn to face him.

“In here is pretty much everything you need to know, if you want to change any of your classes, and I'm sure the Hockey schedule is in there too.” You hand it to him, “I'll see you around, Jake.” You smile, he doesn't think before reaching out for your wrist, you pause, facing him again.

“Do you mind if I get your number?” You raise your brow, “-In case I need help or anything, you seem to know a lot about everything.” He lets go of your hand gently

“Yeah, sure.” You hold out your hand and he swipes through his phone, you put your number in and hand it back to him. “If you need anything just send me a text.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, a part of him wishes he did it for you.

“Thanks for the tour, Princess.” You turn around hiding your face as you walk away from him, he shakes his head smirking before going the other way. 

-

“I mean she practically broke the fucking hinges off the door.” Jay exaggerates, helping Jake bring his bags upstairs to his new room. “Nah, you’re just dramatic as hell.” Sunghoon chuckles, setting one of Jake's bags beside the bed.

Heeseung leans against the door frame with a smile on his face. “How about the girls in Australia?” Heeseung asks curiously. Jake whistles low “Man, they get fucking crazy over there. This one time this chick and her friends keyed my friends car because he broke it off, brand new too.”

Jay hisses at words, “All I have to say is don't mess with those Gold Coast girls.” The guys make their way down to the living room after Jake said he didn't want to “hold them up” 

“Alright rules.” Heeseung says, dragging the other three's attention to him. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “First, try to pick up. Which shouldn't be an issue considering how neatly packed your bags are.”

That earns a chuckle from Jake, “Second, if you’re having a girl over, for the love of God– try not to have her screaming and shit, or eating our food.” He emphasizes the last part, Jay eyes Sunghoon, laughing when he flips him off.

“Third.. Uh– pay rent on time.” Heeseung leans back against the couch proudly. Jake nods after each rule, understanding.

“How about now though? Have you seen anyone who interests you?” Sunghoon asks curiously, observing Jake from the other couch.

“I mean not really–” the image of you flashes in his mind “Actually, the girl who helped me out today with the tour and stuff.” Jake says casually, finger absent mindedly tracing the edge of his phone. “Damn, what's her name?” Jay asks, leaning forward.

“Y/n.” Jake replies, running a hand through his hair. Sunghoon stills at the mention of your name.

Out of all fucking people.

Jake notices the sudden change in the room, “Like y/n l/n?” Jay leans forward just to clarify “Yeah.. you guys know her?” 

“Since first year, Sunghoons known her since high school though.” Heeseung says Jake's eyes drift to Sunghoon whose lips are tightened, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Those two have been inseparable ever since, Sunghoons like some little puppy, following her around and shit–” Jay starts with a smirk on his face “I don't follow her around dickhead.” 

Jake eyes Sunghoon, silently thinking about the relationship you have with him, “Yeah right, she has you on a leash.” Heeseung chuckles, the boys watch as Sunghoon pulls out his phone. “Fine, she can tell you herself.” Sunghoon sends a message to you, watching as the bubbles appear next to your name. 

Sunghoon: Come over

You: Why..

Sunghoon: am I not allowed to hangout with my bestfriend

Sunghoon: we can order in from the korean bbq

You: I'm on the way

Sunghoon holds his phone up, victory gleaming in his eyes, “Great, now tell her to invite her sexy ass friends.” Jay says encouragingly, Sunghoon squints at him “You just did that so she would bring them didn't you.” he asks knowingly.

Jay shrugs, earning a laugh from Heeseung. Sunghoon texts it anyway, you replying with a “Jay asked didn't he.” 

“Im gonna unpack some of my stuff before anyone gets here.” Jake says, standing up, the boys nod before focusing back on each other, Sunghoon's eyes linger a bit longer before looking away.

You arrive 15 minutes later, still wearing the same outfit from earlier, your hair tied in a loose ponytail. Sunghoon stands up walking over to you, “Hey–”

“Wheres Jake? Did he move all his stuff in?” You ask curiously, peaking behind Sunghoon's shoulder. He scrunches his nose at that

“What? You’re not excited to see me?” He asks, finger tucking a loose strand of hair from your ponytail behind your ear. “Should I be?” You observe his eyes for a moment 

“He's upstairs.” Jay says casually, scrolling through his phone. Sunghoon shoots him a glare, watching as you brush past him. 

You see him before he notices you, he's unpacking some clothes out of a box, putting them into his closet. You knock on the door lightly, his face softens when he sees you. “Hey, didn’t know you were so familiar with them.” Jake says, you don't catch the tone beneath it. You lean against his door frame.

“Im surprised they even like spending time with me.” you chuckle lightly, he pauses, setting the hoodie in his hand down facing you.

“Why?” He asks curiously, “You’re fun to be around.” He says casually, his honesty making your heart leap in your chest pathetically.

“I–Thanks” You smile, “You don’t have to stand out there” He says, watching the way you linger by his door. You step in, looking around curiously. 

Your eyes landing on a photo in a black frame sitting on the edge of his desk, you inch closer to it, bending down slightly to get a better look. “Are these your friends from Australia?” You ask,

“Mhm.” He replies, you didn't realise how close he got to you, his arm brushes yours as he picks the frame up, you straighten. “Hm, cute.” You smile down at the photo of him smiling with his friends, his eyes never leave your face as you observe the photo “Yeah–”

“What do you want from the Korean BBQ place?” Sunghoon's sharp voice cuts through the moment, if it even was one.

You back away from Jake like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn't. He doesn't miss that. “Uh–the..”

“I know what you want y/n.” He looks at Jake expectantly, “Im fine with Samgyeopsal” Sunghoon nods before his eyes are back on you

“Come on. We’re picking it up.” He says briefly, you walk closer to the door, turning down the hallway, you give Jake a small wave before following after him.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon asks bluntly, you turn to face him “Who? Jake?”

“Yeah, who else.” His grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I literally haven't known the man for more than 24 hours, he’s nice though, and.. Pretty.”

Sunghoon side eyes you for a moment “Pretty?” he spits out, “Yeah.” You reply, leaning your arm on the center console.

“What about me?” The question catches you off guard, you clear your throat. “I mean you have a reputation for being the campus pretty boy, actually your whole friend group does.” You chuckle, he doesn't say anything so you continue

“Yes you’re pretty Sunghoon.” You say smiling, eyes lingering on his side profile. 

“Whos prettier then?” Sunghoon asks, he can't believe he's actually asking this right now, but he doesn't care. “You’re ridiculous.” You nudge his shoulder playfully

“Hey, I'm just trying to make sure no one replaces me” He shrugs, “You should know better than anyone, that no one could replace you.” You smile at him all too innocently, the way you say it makes him believe it.

He tries to block out the voice in his head that tells him Jake could be the one to shift that, and he can’t let that happen. 

That afternoon was one of those times where you’re happy you didn't plan anything. Your friends mixed with Sunghoon’s all getting along, the discarded Korean BBQ sitting on the table at the center of the living room. 

“—Hell no, Lakeview State is ass. I'm betting on a 6-0 score.” Jay says confidently, “I don’t know man, I've been looking at their stats with coach and they cleared Summit Valley last week.” Heeseung says, rubbing his jaw in thought. 

Sunghoon sits back down beside you on the couch, arm resting casually behind your shoulders, he hands you a can of soda, “Yeah, yeah, no drinking on school nights.” He rolls his eyes, mocking your words, earning a jab to his ribs.

Your eyes drift to Jake who is now talking to a few of your friends, practically surrounding him like a pack of hyenas closing in on their next meal. “He seems to be doing well” You nod over to Jake, Sunghoon’s eyes follow yours, resisting the urge to pull your face towards his, making you look at no one other than him.

“Yeah.” He replies blandly, fingers twisting the strands at the end of your ponytail casually. 

Even when you got home that night, you still tried to make sense of the few minutes spent in Jake's room, then your mind shifted to Sunghoon, the look on his face.

You tell yourself he's just being possessive, which is normal for him since he's always been like that. It's nothing new, right..?

-

“Oh, this is going to be good.” your friend says, watching as the boys from the opposite team stretch on the ice, You look around, shaking your head with a smile at the group of guys behind you, shirtless with the word Crimson painted in red across their chests. 

As the boys from your schools team make their way on the ice to warm up, the student section erupts into cheers, The guys saying things like “Lakeview State is fucking cooked.” and the girls practically drooling as the guys start stretching, specifically when they get into the frog pose. (look it up guys trust)

Your eyes land on the brand new #15 Jersey, Jake. As he braces both hands on the ice and rolls his hips, “God he's so hot..” A girl to the other side of you says, someone you don't recognize too well.

“Girl, if he can do that on ice, imagine what he can do in bed.” Her other friend says, you can't help but blush at the statement.

Jake’s all the university has been buzzing about since the beginning of the week. From his sweet personality, to his thick accent, to his absolutely gorgeous face, everyone is obsessed with him.

Rightfully so, I mean just look at him. You unknowingly lick your lips, watching him. His eyes search the crowd mid stretch until they land on you, he gives you that same boyish smile from the day you met him, and you can't help the heat that rises up your neck.

“Omg he totally looked at me? Did you see that?” You try not to roll your eyes at the voice of the girl beside you, “I heard there's a party at Heeseung and them's place tonight.. And he also doesn't have a girlfriend.” Her friend says, you bite down the inside of your cheek, holding yourself back from saying something—

“Hey, you good?” Your friend asks with a concerned look on her face “What–yeah I'm fine.” You chuckle before focusing back on the ice as the boys get into position. Their attention is drawn away as the first period starts and the crowd begins their “oohs” and “ahs”.

To no surprise, Sunghoon scores the first goal of the night, earning slaps on his helmet from his teammates. You laugh at the way he flexes his arms to the student section.

And they were not exaggerating about Jake's skill in this sport. The way he moves on the ice was similar to Sunghoon, but there was something different about it, almost carefree, but also calculated. Which is why he was the second to score a point. 

“Jay was not joking about them being terrible..” Your friend says with a yikes expression on her face looking at the other team. You watch as the scoreboard number changes to 4-0 as Heeseung scores a point. “Nah, I think Crimson is just too good.” A guy behind you says.

After waiting for them to finish changing and thankfully showering, you and your friends fall into step with the four boys. Sunghoon throws an arm around your shoulder, his other holding his duffel bag.

“How’d I look out there?” He asks, “How about you ask one of your many admirers." You nod over to the group of girls who giggle when he looks their way. “I'm asking you y/n” He says, stopping at the trunk of his car, opening it to throw his bag in. 

“You looked good.” You say casually

“Pretty?” He presses, earning a glare from you.

“You’re so annoying..” He laughs, catching your hand before you walk away. “Are you coming to the party?”

“Yeah actually, Jake–”

“Princess,” Jake calls out, car keys in hand, making his way to you. Sunghoon scoffs,

Princess? Who the fuck is princess?

“Ready?” Jake asks, eyes never leaving yours as you nod. “I’ll see you there m’kay hoon?” You smile, falling into step beside Jake.

Sunghoon stands there in disbelief, partly because you’re not riding with him for the first time in like forever, and he can't help the jealousy that fills his chest knowing you’re going to be in the car alone, with Jake.

The same Jake who can’t keep his eyes off of you, and does anything to get his hands on you. 

You take off your sweater, leaving you in a simple black tank top, completely normal to wear especially on a warm night like this. Jake tries not to make it obvious that he's looking at your newly exposed skin. 

His fist tightens around the steering wheel when you make a movement to fix your hair, causing your breasts to move, Fuck, he really shouldn’t be thinking these things but he cant stop himself.

He imagines what they would look like all marked up in shades of pink and purple from him licking and biting at them. If he wasn't such a gentleman, he’d go ahead and pull your tank top and bra down just to expose them so he could squeeze them while he drives. His half hard cock throbs at the thought. 

“-really good.” you turn to face him, “Huh?” He asks, confused, you chuckle before repeating yourself

“I was saying that you were really good out there, especially for your first game with the team.” You watch his face soften, “Thanks princess, it helps that coach has us working our asses off at practice.” He takes over the wheel with his left hand, placing the other one on the center console.

“I bet, Sunghoon and them always talk about how many repeated reps they have to do.” You let out a small laugh.

He glances over at you when you mention his name, specifically emphasizing him over his other teammates. But he has no right to be jealous, if that's even what he's feeling.. You and Jake are in a good place right now, but it could take one small move to change that, and he’s willing to risk it. 

As soon as you walk in you spot Jay yelling over the music “Alright if any of you fuckers throws up in the backyard I swear everyones out!” The crowd growing inside of the house just murmurs and nods, one of the players from the team yelling “Yeah okay– when are the strippers coming?” Jay flips him off, turning back on the music so he doesn't have to hear the way everyone laughs. 

Jake lets a smile slip, hand splayed on your waist as he approaches the kitchen, you search for Sunghoon only to find him sitting on the couch, some girl you don't recognize on his lap, his finger casually tracing her thigh.

Did he not see you? How come he didn't invite you in? Maybe you really have gotten used to the princess treatment. You swallow before facing Jake again, only to find him talking to a group of girls who conveniently ended up in the kitchen shortly after. 

God you need a drink right now. You look around the counters only to find half empty cans of beer, checking the cardboard box to find none in there as well.

Great, the one time you actually want to drink. Your eyes drift to Sunghoon again, his hand now splayed higher on the girl's thigh, practically brushing along her panties under her dress.

“Princess?” Jake slips a hand around you, splayed on your hip. You hum in response. 

He follows your line of sight, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I finished my room if you want to see?” He says, voice low, lips grazing your earlobe.

A shiver goes down your spine, “Is this your way of getting me in your room Jake Sim?” You smile, turning to look up at him. “Is it working?” He asks through a grin, biting his plump lip. 

“Maybe.” You tilt your head, observing the mischievous glint in his eyes, along with something else you can't quite name.

You disappear into the crowd with him, moving past the stagger of bodies, and up the stairs. 

It smells like him. So much like him, he closes the door behind him, watching you look around. “It's clean.” You note, eyes falling to his made bed, the dark grey sheets and matching pillows.

“Thought it was going to be messy?” he chuckles, watching you look around his space “Have you seen Sunghoons?” you laugh, looking down at his desk, the computer science textbook right in the middle along with a notebook filled with writing. 

“You talk about him a lot y’know.” Jake says quietly, you flip through the pages of his textbook mindlessly, “Hm?”

“Sunghoon.” He mutters, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Jealous?” You ask, closing the distance between the two of you, standing directly between his legs. “Should I be?” He trails both hands up to your hips before pulling you down flush against his lap, facing him. You can’t help the gasp of surprise that leaves your mouth.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself “You smell so good” He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your peach shampoo.

You let your head fall back slightly, exposing more of your neck. Inching one of your hands up, running it through his soft brown hair. His lips ghost across your neck “Mmm..” You press your hips down harder against him, his half hard cock in his sweatpants hitting the seam of your jeans just right. He groans softly into your neck, lips trailing along your jaw. 

You tilt his head up, looking down at his plush pink lips, he wets them subconsciously, you lean down, experimenting, lightly pressing yours against his.

You pull back, wanting to see his reaction. “Don’t stop–” He whispers, desperately chasing your lips again, you moan into his mouth, grinding your hips down. His hands slip lower, cupping your ass through your jeans, holding you down harder, dragging you up and down his clothed cock. 

“Jake..” You whimper out when he bites down on your lip, he smirks at the way you say his name. “Sounds pretty when you say it like that” He brings his hand up, cupping your left breast, squeezing through your tank top and bra “Ah– fuck..” You bury your face onto his shoulder to hide your reactions. “Shy now, hm?” 

He presses his lips against yours again, tongue begging for entry, you grant it—moaning into his mouth, him trying to savor your taste.

He can’t take it anymore, he tries he really does, but his self control can only go so far. He pulls back for a moment, cupping both of your tits in his strong veiny hands before looking up at you.

You nod, not exactly sure why, but whatever it is has to be good. He licks his lips, trying to contain the drool threatening to pool out with how fucking thirsty he is for this. 

He frees your tits from your tank top and bra, biting down on his lip at the sight of how full they are. You would probably feel embarrassed maybe, but with the way he's looking at you right now, you feel adored.

He swipes his thumbs over your nipples, watching the way they pebble beneath the touch. “Cute” He looks up at you before squeezing your breasts together, kneading the soft flesh with his hands, you let out small sounds at the feeling, no one's ever paid this much attention to your chest before. 

He buries his nose in between dragging his tongue along the middle before popping one of your nipples in your mouth, sucking on it softly. He groans at the taste of you on his tongue. Practically drinking in every sound you let out.

He moves his mouth to the other side, flicking your wet nipple with his thumb as he sucks harder, drawing all kinds of reactions from your sensitive body. “F-feels good..” You say through a light moan, one hand laced in his hair, the other holding onto his shoulder.

He hums in response. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I've ever seen princess.” he sucks on the skin just above your nipple, leaving a faint mark. 

You blush at the compliment, heat rising up your already pink cheeks. “Mm, pussies’ probably even prettier huh?” He breathes out, holding your boobs together, your back arches, hips grinding as he shakes his head, tongue flat on your nipples, alternating sucking them every few seconds while his hands squeeze into the warm flesh–

“Y/n?” You freeze, the familiar voice cutting through your senses. Sunghoon. Jake lets out a sound at the interruption as you stand up, fixing your top to how it somewhat was before Jake decided to devoured you.

“Uh– yeah?” You call out, walking over to Jake's door, trying to ignore the wetness pooled in your underwear. Sunghoon swings the door open, eyes falling on Jake who looks composed as ever leaning on his hands on the bed.

Bulge clear in his pants if you squint, which Sunghoon doesn't need to. His eyes fall on you, the flushed expression on your face, the way your bra strap is twisted, his fingers tighten around the door knob when he notices the reddish mark on your exposed cleavage. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know exactly what was going on before he came in.

“Hee wants us to grab some drinks. People are bitching because there's none left.” Sunghoon says, watching the smug smirk on Jake's face. “Us? Can’t you just go?” You ask, grabbing his arm out of instinct.

Jake's eyes follow the contact, his grin faltering a second. “I need you to help me choose the best stuff.” Sunghoon says, finally looking down at your face. You sigh, slipping back on your shoes “We can—talk again later?” You turn, eyes meeting Jakes.

He nods, offering that sweet boyish smile that has everyone on campus wrapped around his finger. “Im a patient man.” He says, you smile back, Sunghoon looks at Jake one more time before shutting the door harshly.

The ride to the nearest gas station is quiet. The only thing filling the empty silence being the faint music playing from his car speakers.

You turn to look at him for probably the 50th time in the last 10 minutes. His sharp features even more defined with the low street lights. “Are you upset?” You finally ask, the words coming out more choked than intended. 

“Do I have a reason to be?” His eyes stay focused on the road when he speaks, “Hoon, answer the question.”

He pulls over, making the car jerk to a stop. “Did you fuck him?” He asks bluntly, his full focus now on you. “W-what–” you’re caught off guard,

“Answer the question y/n.” He says, repeating your words. “Sunghoon-” his eyes drop to the faint red mark on your chest, still fresh from earlier. You don't bother hiding it. “We just..” You breathe out once, “We just kissed.” 

“On your tits?” He eyes the mark again, your face flushes at the accusation, the very true one. “Yes.” You whisper, shame creeping in slightly.

“Did you like it?” He asks, catching you off guard again. “You don’t have to lie to me.” He says, more comforting. 

You nod, unable to form words in this moment. “And did he make you come?” You look up at him, his completely serious face. “No–” He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “The guy gets you alone like that and can’t even bother to–” 

“Well maybe if you didn't interrupt he would have!” you defend yourself and Jake, because you know damn well that man knows how to please a woman.

“Oh, so now I was interrupting you because I wanted to spend time with my friend.” Sunghoon accuses, “Really? You sure this wasn't just to grill me like some– some overprotective boyfriend?” He laughs. He actually fucking laughs in your face. 

“That’s actually hilarious– fuck that might’ve been the funniest shit you’ve said all night” You look at him like hes crazy

“Im not even trying to be funny! God—shut up.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Damn, maybe if he actually made you come you wouldn't be acting so pissy right now.” He glances down at the way your arms push up your chest, the roll of your eyes clearly stating you don't know his true intentions.  

“Bet your pussy’s all wet from earlier too” He smirks, rolling his bottom lip behind his teeth. This time you scoff, disbelieving.

He continues “Poor baby couldn't get her needy pussy rubbed huh?—Don’t think I forgot about that douche from Senior year who couldn't even get you to come with his fingers.” Sunghoon chuckles. 

Your face reddens at the memory, specifically after, when you went to Sunghoon crying because you thought something was wrong with you. You remember him even offering to order some expensive vibrator on amazon just so he could prove to you that you were fine.

“Still use that vibrator I got you for your birthday hm?” It’s stashed away in your bedside drawer, there for when you need some sort of relief. Your silent response is all the answer he needs. “Ah, I see. It wasn't enough was it? Your greedy cunt probably needs some real dick huh, remind me again–when was the last time you got some?” 

“Are you trying to make me more mad than I already am?” He rolls his eyes, “Calm down baby, I'm just teasing you like always– Not my fault you can’t take a joke because your pussy’s throbbing for an orgasm.” He says, flicking your shoulder with his finger. “Come on just admit it–”

“Fine! Yes im obviously fucking upset, yes im still wet, and yes it fucking hurts, and its all because you interupted us.” You say, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Ah, there she is.” He watches you closely, “Always so put together, when I know deep down you’re just as fucked up as me.” His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek as he watches your chest rise and fall. “Bet poor Jakey doesn't even know what he got himself into with you.”

Deep down, Jake knows, likes it even.

“I mean, I’d offer to help but you seem pretty stuck on being pissed at me right now.” He shrugs, resting his arm on the center console. “Some sex toys from amazon isnt–” He levels his gaze on you

“I'm not talking about a sex toy y/n.” You look down at his hand on the center console, the way his long, slender fingers casually rub little circles with his middle and ring finger. Your eyes meet his, trying to process what he’s suggesting. 

“Y’know, since Jake's not here, and I can tell when any woman is desperate to come.” His eyes drop to the way your thighs clench together, the same way they've been doing this whole time he was reading you like a book. 

You bite your lip contemplating in your mind, but from the way your juices pool even more in your underwear, you know your body’s already decided for you. And who are you to say no to your own needs? 

“Fuck–” you let out through a whimper, Sunghoon knows hes already got you. Fuck what all his friends said about you having him wrapped around your finger, funny how he’s about to prove them very wrong. He nods at you to continue, you remind yourself this is your best friend, of course he'd offer to help you, that's what friends do!

You move your hands down, unbuttoning your jeans, wincing at how sensitive your skin is, he watches you closely as you pull your jeans down until they're pooled at your ankles.

“Come on, spread ‘em.” he urges, you shift until you’re leaning against the side of the door, distancing your knees from each other. “Holy fuck–” He lets out a breathless chuckle at your desperate state, eyes locked on the wet spot of your panties. 

He can't help the way his cock jumps in his jeans, seeing his best friend like this, spread open, pussy dripping for any taste of release. He pulls your legs farther apart, watching the way the damp fabric stretches across your soaked lips.

“He’s missin’ out.” Sunghoon says, hooking his finger around your panties and moving them to the side. You whimper at the feeling of the air nipping your skin.

He licks his lips, the faint street lights illuminating the sheen that coats your inner thighs. “Knew it’d be pretty too.” He swipes his thumb over your aching clit, drawing a gasp from you.

“Hoon– don't tease.” your hand grips the passenger seat to keep yourself grounded. “Why, you’re cute when you're all needy.” He starts with slow circles on your clit, rubbing with his thumb, spreading your leaking arousal everywhere.

“It’s like you fucking pissed yourself” He laughs, bringing two long fingers down to tease the entrance of your desperate hole. You blush at the observation, he notices your embarrassment.

“Dont be shy baby.” He coos, teasing your entrance, the pads of his two fingers circling it. You roll your hips slightly, wanting more. He doesn't like that. His other hand comes up, holding your hip, keeping you in place. “Stop being greedy.” He hisses.

“It hurts Hoon– fuck, I cant..” You breathe out as his thumb flicks your clit again. He slips one of his fingers in your hole, only the first knuckle “You’re so damn tight” He groans at the feeling of your slick walls pulsing

“You don't finger yourself or something?” He chuckles, still joking around even when you’re spread for him like this “Mmm– shut up and keep going..” Your eyes flutter shut as he pushes his finger in deeper, your wetness acting as lubricant for his very long digit. 

“Open your eyes.” He watches your face, the way your eyebrows knit together, “Look at how good your pussy takes it” He curls his finger, brushing a sensitive spot inside you that has you bucking your hips, he shifts his other hand to your stomach, holding you down so you can stop moving. 

“Feels good Hoon..” You moan out, taking your hand off the seat to grab your boob through your tank top, touching it the same way Jake did. Sunghoon's mouth falls open ever so slightly at the sight.

He gets you used to the rhythm of his finger, pulling it out completely earning a whine from you. Before you can say anything, he shoves two in, curling just right, You reach your hands out gripping his forearm clawing at the hand that's splayed on your stomach. “Hoon!– yeah, I- fuck!” You cry out, his fingers fucking into you faster, His palm hitting your clit with every brutal drag of his fingers. 

“Sucking my fingers in so good..” He licks his lips, thrusting his fingers into you harder, the familiar feel of a pussy fluttering around his fingers telling him you’re close.

“Hoon– Im..” You let your head fall back against the car door as he works his fingers so fucking fast. Your grip on his arm falters as your orgasm comes crashing on you, your legs trembling, pussy drooling on his fingers.

“Fuck thats hot.” His pace turns slow, just feeling up your walls, “mhmm..” He chuckles at your state, “Hm? What was that?” 

You can't even get a word out with how sensitive you are, not even sure what you’re trying to say. He pulls his fingers out, you whimper at the emptiness, “What?” He moves his hand from your stomach,  fixing your underwear and wiping his wet fingers on his jeans. 

Your eyebrows knit together, still trying to process what just happened. He sighs, acting annoyed even though he's anything but that. “Put your seatbelt on, still need to get the beer.” He says causally like he didn't just finish absolutely obliterating your pussy with his fingers.

You lift your hips, pulling back on your jeans with trembling hands. You fumble over your seatbelt, feeling his eyes on you. 

“God–” He reaches over, doing it for you. You don't know what to do with your hands, settling them in your lap. He looks over at you again, his hand coming up to your face to make you look at him. “You did good baby, okay?” His hand loosely wraps into your hair, he leans down pressing a kiss to your forehead. The action so intimate, you can't help the flutter in your heart..

Sunghoon places the packs of beers on the kitchen counter, “Damn man about time.” Heeseung says, grabbing himself a beer. “Yeah– traffic was really bad.” Sunghoon says, looking down at you with a faint smirk. “Um, yeah everyone was out.” You add, Heeseung just looks at the both of you before shrugging and making his way to the backyard. 

Jake watches the interaction, eyes tracking Sunghoon's hand as he rubs small circles on your hip. He watches Sunghoon lean down to whisper something in your ear before grabbing a beer and following Heeseung out back. 

Jake walks over to you slipping a hand on your lower back casually to grab himself a drink, you look up at him, smiling innocently.

Yeah fucking right. “Wanna head out there? I know they have a pretty intense game of beer pong going on, and I heard you’re quite the expert with your aim.” Jake says, toying with the hem of your tank top. “Please tell me they didn't mention the story from first year..” You groan when he tries to stifle a laugh.

You follow Jake outside, watching as Sunghoon downs a shot, wrapping his arm around some girls waist. You swallow, not realizing how dry your throat got.

You shake your head before facing Jake's gorgeous face and smiling. “I guess I'll show you how it's done.” you say through a giggle that has his sweatpants feeling even more confined. “Alright, princess.”

Sunghoon doesnt bother to hide his open flirting with multiple girls, Jake on the other hand can’t help it, its like they’re fucking drawn to him and his every movement.

Constantly touching his arms, “Oh Jakey! You’re so good at hockey, let me suck your dick please!” Okay, that's not exactly what they say, but you can see it in their eyes.

You try to ignore the feeling in your chest when you see Sunghoon lead a girl inside and up the stairs. Like always, except the feeling of.. Jealousy? Feels even stronger now.

That night even when he fucked her into his matress he couldnt get you out of his head, the way your little pussy was squeezing his fingers tighter than any of the whores around campus. And he actually managed to not say your name while coming! Unlike last time..

-

You’ve been hanging out with Jake one on one for the past two weeks, at least whenever he would send you a “Let me see you” text, or a “Lets study together”, which would ultimately lead to him holding you on his lap after he finished his assignments, trying to distract you from your own work, rocking his hips against yours until you finally gave him the attention he so desperately wanted. 

Jake was a pervert. But that's a part of him no one really sees, unless he wants them to.

So while pretty boy Jake sweet talks his professors, makes everyone laugh in whatever room he steps into, while also perfectly maintaining his social/ academic life, he's sending you pictures..specifically the one you’re looking at right now.

You’ve never been into receiving nudes from anyone, whenever any of your girl friends would show you the new dick pic some random guy sent them you would close your eyes saying something like “I do not want to see that!” Though you understand why it could boost your ego, because a part of you feels..good?

You’re still hovering over the picture he sent 4 minutes ago, grey sweatpants low on his waist, his veiny hand gripping his thick cock, which isn't even fully hard in the photo.

You bite your lip, because why does it feel so good looking at this. You close your legs together, feeling a heat form in your core.

Jake: -Image attachment- 

Jake: He misses you, Princess

You: Giving your dick pronouns lol? 

You: How bad does he miss me though..

The next message is a video, only 15 seconds long, but you've never clicked open so fast. You sit up straight in your bed, turning up your brightness on your phone in your dark room with it being 10:38 at night. 

“Mmm.. fuck–” Jakes voice cuts through your speakers, his dick is fully hard in his sweatpants and hes rubbing it with his hand, a small wet spot forming where his tip is. He gives his dick a squeeze before the video ends. 

Jake: What about you?

You can’t help the nervous excitement surging through you as you lift your baggy sleep shirt slightly, your bare chest exposed to the crisp air of your room.

You squeeze them together with one arm, making sure they look good for the camera before angling your phone and snapping a picture. You honestly don't know if it's good or not since you’ve never really been the type to send pictures of yourself like this. Your finger hovers over the send button before clicking it. 

“Told you.” Jake turns the phone around, facing it towards Sunghoon whose disbelieving look washes off his face. “Fuck–” He says, standing up and taking the phone from Jake, zooming in on your hard nipples. “Her tits are actually perfect.” He says to himself. 

“Something we can agree on.” Jake snatches his phone back. Typing a reply about how perfect you are.

Sunghoon can’t help the need to one up him when he speaks “Too bad it’s not her pussy though. You should’ve seen it the other night— throbbing and shit.” Sunghoon chuckles at the memory, the same one he’s used to jerk off almost every night since.

Jake rolls his eyes, because it should have been his fingers in you that night. 

You didn't have to tell him for him to know what happened. It actually was Sunghoon who said something. Practice had ran late last week, Jake and Sunghon being the last ones there.

And out of all the places, he asks in the fucking communal showers. The only thing filling the room was the sound of the water hitting the tile floor, and the steam surrounding them. 

“So, did you ever get what you wanted?” Sunghoon asks casually, letting the water soak into his hair, Jake looks over at him for a second before continuing to wash his arms “What are you talking about–” Jake starts “Y/n.” 

“What about her.” Jake turns the heat up, the boiling hot water seeping into his skin. “Did you fuck her yet or not?” Sunghoon asks bluntly, expecting an answer.

Jake opens his mouth, then closes it, the words lost. He remembers implying it, but the farthest you let him go was dry humping until you both were nothing but heavy breathing and moaning, you claimed it was because you ‘didn't want any of the guys to walk in’. Or maybe it was one specific guy. 

“Hm. Shame, I can tell she’s been craving some dick lately. Guess my fingers weren't enough.” He shrugs, turning off the water and grabbing his towel to wrap around his waist. 

Jake pauses for a moment, processing. Before shutting off the water and following him out, wrapping his own towel around him. “I knew you did that shit on purpose– Fuck, you probably just wanted her to yourself huh?” Jake says, watching as Sunghoon opens his locker, grabbing his clothes. 

“I think she wants the both of us for herself.” Sunghoon chuckles, peeling off the towel to put on his boxers, not paying any attention to Jake.

“She’s always been a little greedy, plus I know she’s never had any good dick before in her life so it makes sense.” Sunghoon says, putting on the rest of his clothes and running his hand through his wet hair. 

“So what do you want with her then?” Jake asks, “I mean, she's my best friend, I was obviously trying to help her.” Sunghoon mutters. “And you think she really wants both of us?” Jake bites his lip in thought, “I know she wants both of us.” He says before throwing his bag over his shoulder and walking out.

And now he’s here, with Sunghoon, seeing just how far you’ll go.

Sunghoon has to admit hes grown to like Jake more, hes actually chill as fuck. The whole pretty boy thing you said is checking out. “Alright you try then.” Jake mumbles, nodding to Sunghoon's phone in his pocket. 

“Fine.” He says, pulling his phone out, he clicks on your contact typing up a casual way to approach you so that it's not too obvious what him and Jake are doing. 

Hoon: wyd?

“Dude seriously? That's literally code for ‘you're about to receive a dick pic, 3, 2 ,1 go.” Jake eyes his phone. 

“Says the one who sent her one.” Sunghoon mumbles, before reading your reply.

You: in bed. trying and failing to fall asleep lol

Hoon: ik what could help you

You: ??

Hoon: sex ;)

Your hand flies to your mouth, slight disbelief on your face at the message, though a part of you isn't really surprised considering he’s always been suggestive like this

You: that's too bad

Hoon: masturbation works just as good

Hoon: how about that vibrator that I know you still use?

Sunghoon leans back in Jake's chair, tongue poking out his teeth as he waits for your reply. You shift on your bed, glancing at your bedside drawer.

Opening it, you pull out the light pink wand Sunghoon bought you back in Senior year. You still can’t believe he's the one who got you your first sex toy.  

Seven minutes pass, still no reply. “Not so confident now are you–” Jake starts, but immediately shuts up when he hears your breathy little moans come from Sunghoon's phone.

“No fucking way.” Jake moves to the edge of the bed, Sunghoons eyes are locked on the way you press the vibrator to your clit, before tossing it aside and running two small fingers through your slick, holding them up to the camera and parting them just so he can see how wet you are. His half hard cock twitches at the sight.

“Come on! Let me see–” Jake reaches forward to grab the phone. “Dude– hold on!” Sunghoon grimaces, before moving forward, holding it out so they both can watch. The video isn't long, but it’s fucking hot. 

“Fuck, you hear that?” Jake tries to stifle a groan as he rewinds back, The sound of your messy pussy filling the room, Sunghoon palms himself roughly before swiping out of the video.

Hoon: You sound so pretty baby

Hoon: Can I see your face?

You bite down on your lip before fixing your hair in your camera and taking a selfie, “God–look at her.” Sunghoon says, reacting to the photo with a heart.

“Send me all of this right now.” Jake says, reaching to snatch Sunghoons phone in desperation “Send me her titty picture then.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Jake rolls his eyes.

“Im telling her to come over after the game on Friday." He says, laying back down against his pillows.

“Aren’t the guys gonna be here?” Sunghoon stands up, tucking his phone in his pocket. “Nah, Heeseung wanted to go to the club, Jay’s going with him.” Jake's eyes fall to the message from Sunghoon, the video and picture. 

He smirks before looking up again, “Are you gonna watch me jerk off or what?” Jake chuckles, watching as Sunghoon walks out, middle finger held up, knowing damn well he's about to go do the same thing.

-

You’ve always had this need to prove you aren't selfish. Constantly putting other people before yourself, at some point it even became a habit.

Maybe that's why this tension between you, Sunghoon, and Jake feels so good. Maybe that's why you feel like you’re thriving off the attention, How almost desperate they seem for you.

The fun part is that nobody knows either, it's just a shared secret between the three of you. Whatever it is you have going on anyway. 

That’s what you’re thinking about as you watch them on the ice. Adjusting your camera lens to perfectly capture Sunghoon's side profile as he moves.

Maybe this isn't what you should be focusing on right now, since you were technically given specific instructions to get more photos of the other team members.

You move to shift your camera, but Jake comes into the frame, patting Sunghoon on the shoulder. You see him lean in slightly to say something and both of their eyes shift to you, you immediately put the camera down with an embarrassed look on your face.

Sunghoon says something back, making Jake let out a chuckle before skating back into their starting positions. You tilt your head at the interaction, interesting. 

Even with a simple pair of leggings and hoodie you felt slightly exposed, because every time they looked your way, it felt like they could see right through you.

You wait out in the lobby area, going through the pictures you took on your camera–”Y/n?” Heeseung says, Jay a few feet behind him.

“You’re not going out with us tonight?” He questions

“No– I was going to stay in” You shake your head, “Damn, no one wants to Hee.” Jay says, checking his phone.

“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head curiously. “Both Jake and Sunghoon are refusing to go out tonight. Said they were “too tired”.

Jay rolls his eyes. You swallow, clearing your dry throat. “Oh– is Sunghoon in the locker room still?” You look back again, just to see some of the other players walk out. 

“Nah, I think he’s in his car, you want us to walk you out or–” Heeseung starts

“No, its okay” You say a little too quickly “You guys have fun!” Heeseung and Jay look at each other as you walk out. 

There's no way right? Because you could have sworn Jake said he was the only one not going out so why would Sunghoon be– “Y/n.” you recognize that tone from anywhere.

“Hoon– I thought you were going out with Heeseung and them..” You twist the strap of your camera in between your fingers.

He glances down before looking at your face. “Nah.” He simply says, duffel bag resting on his shoulder. You nod, looking around “I was looking for Jake–”

“He rode with me.” Sunghoon watches your face closely for a reaction, something shifts in your eyes.

“Together?” You question, he nods like it's obvious, like it's totally normal for them. Regardless, you fall into step beside him. 

You spot Jake in the passenger seat of Sunghoon's car, he doesn't look up from his phone until the backseat door opens. You move past Sunghoon to get in, but he grabs your waist.

“Not here.” He puts his bag in the seat instead, taking your camera from you and putting it gently beside it. “Where am I supposed to sit then?” he looks down at you, gaze almost—dark, Before opening the passenger side door.

Jake pats his lap twice, signaling exactly what you’re thinking, like you’re some dog to follow orders. 

You glance down at his lap, “Go on, there's no room in the backseat anyway.” Sunghoon says, knowing damn well he could have put the bags in the trunk.

Still, you can’t help the heat that surges through your body as you step up and sit on Jake's lap, or more on his thigh. “Good girl.” Sunghoon says before shutting the door and moving to the driver's seat.

Jake rests his hand greedily on your thigh, squeezing ever so slightly. He tries not to whimper at the way your ass spreads on his leg, he can practically feel the heat radiating off of you. 

Sunghoon starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot, Thank God his windows are tinted.

“So, how does it feel?” Sunghoon asks, you look over at him, swallowing. “How does what feel?” your voice comes out shakier than intended. Jake can’t help the small laugh that escapes his lips. 

“Fucking around with the both of us” Sunghoon says casually, as if he was stating the weather.

You shift on Jake's leg, and he squeezes your thigh harder, hand resting dangerously high. “What–Im not-” 

“Damn you were right.” Jake scoops your hair in his hand, moving it to one side so he can see your face fully. “She really does pretend to be clueless.” 

“Im still a little sad though.” Jake fakes a pout, puppy dog eyes locked on yours, “You sent him your pussy and not me..” He says, looking over at Sunghoon who can’t hide the smirk on his face. “I was–” 

“I don’t want excuses, princess. Plus I got to see it anyway.” You feel your face flush an even deeper shade of pink.

“I bet I could have gotten you wetter though.” Jake whispers in your ear, low and filthy. He lifts his leg slightly, pressing harder between your thighs, your small gasp doesn't go unnoticed by the both of them.

“Dont get all shy now baby, remember you were just coming all over my fingers in this exactly spot.” Sunghoon's eyes leave the rode for a moment, he lifts his hand, brushing it across your bottom lip. 

You open your mouth on instinct, letting him slide his finger inside, he groans when you close your lips, attempting to suck on it. “Fuck..” Jake's hand moves higher, he pulls your legs farther apart, making sure your clothed pussy lays flat on his thigh.

“This how you suck dick, baby?” Sunghoon coos, pulling his thumb out, wiping it across your cheek before focusing on the road again. You should feel pathetic, used– but instead, you feel adored.

Experimentally you move your hips slightly, both Jake and Sunghoons eyes fall to the movement.

“That desperate huh? Gonna grind on his thigh right in front of me?” Sunghoon asks, watching the movement of your body, Jake settles his hands on your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

“You like being watched huh?” Jake nips at your neck with his teeth, you bite your lip at the pinch.

“Do you like being greedy, y/n? Being a selfish little slut.” You whimper at the words coming from his mouth, Jake guides your hips on his thigh, pressing you harder against him.

“Use your words princess.” One of his hands comes up, cupping your breast through your hoodie, you arch against him as one of his large hands guides your hips.

“Y-yes..” you whisper out, barely audible. “Fuck thats hot.” Sunghoon's eyes fall to the way your pussy drags on Jake's thigh, then to the way he squeezes your tit, and your face, those sounds—

“Stop.” Sunghoon demands, Jake brings your hips to a stop, “Since she admitted to being selfish, she can wait to cum.” Sunghoon's hand leaves the center console, giving your thigh a squeeze before delivering a slap to it. You let out a high pitched sound, half pain, half pleasure. 

“Fine, but I'm not gonna stop touching her.” Jake says, pulling your hoodie up until it rests just above your chest, and yanking your uncomfortably tight sports bra down, you gasp when both of his hands cup your breasts, squeezing roughly.

His eyes are fixated on the soft flesh molding however he likes, your eyes are half lidded as Sunghoon drives down the familiar bumpy road near their house.

“Look at how fucking soft they are–” Jake says, looking at Sunghoon, he licks his lips greedily drinking in the sight of you like this, just fucking taking it.

The embarrassment is long gone, the only thing clouding your mind is lust, and want–even if it is selfish of you..

“Whose cock you gonna’ suck first?” Sunghoon asks a little too sweetly, his firm hand groping your ass as you follow Jake to his room.

“Come on– don’t be all shy now like you haven't been using the both of us for weeks just to please that little pussy.” Sunghoon says, landing a sharp smack on your ass just to watch the way it moves from the impact. 

“Nah, I wanna taste her first.” Jake says sitting on the edge of the bed. Sunghoon sits a space away, leaving room for you to be right in the middle.

“Which one do you want, princess?” Jake asks, Australian accent even heavier than before, “I..I don't know” you say, biting your lip, looking at the both of them.

You close your legs tighter together at the way their hungry gaze settles on you. “Mmm..liar.” Sunghoon says, fingers lazily tracing the bottom of your hoodie, he urges it up slightly, a silent question.

You nod and he fully takes it off you, Jake's eyes fall to your confined breasts immediately. “Which one do you want?” Sunghoon asks this time, wrapping your hair into a ponytail around his fist and pulling it back every so slightly, Jake rests his hand on your thigh, his lips grazing the right side of your neck, “Come on..tell us.” He whispers.

Sunghoon traces his sharp tongue along the underside of your jaw, your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of both their mouths on you.

“Both..” you breathe out, Sunghoon smirks against your neck before pulling back. “Knew it.”

Jake presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, laying you on the bed right on his pillows. He leans back for a moment, just to take in the sight of you like this.

Sunghoon watches, palming himself in his sweatpants. Jake looks back once with a devilish smirk on his face before settling between your thighs, wasting no time taking your leggings off.

“Pink—you owe me $20.” Sunghoon says, now fully groping his cock in his sweatpants. You open your mouth to say something–probably tell him off for betting on what kind of underwear you’re wearing, but Jake's mouth latches onto your clothed pussy too fast, licking the soaked through juices. Instead of talking, you let out a moan. 

“Fuck, I knew you’d taste heavenly.” Jake purrs, peeling off your panties like they were never there.

He tosses them at Sunghoon who catches them in his hand, he brings them up to his nose, smelling the center. “Smells it too.” He says, practically burying his nose into the fabric. 

You spread your legs wider as Jake's lips wrap around your clit, sucking the eager bud into his mouth. Your hands grip at the sheets beneath you, eyes rolling back at the sensation you’ve never felt before. “F-feels so good..” You say through a moan, toes curling so hard you swear your foot could cramp. 

“Yeah baby? You like when Jake eats that sweet little cunt?” Sunghoon asks, sitting back down on the bed, this time right beside your head. You nod brainlessly, glassy eyes looking up at him.

Jake slurps at your pussy, tongue flicking over your clit, “I could eat it for hours–” he mumbles into you, you’re hips jerk up at the vibration and Sunghoon laughs at your desperation.

Sunghoon lowers his pants and boxers, his thick, long cock springing out, you swallow at the sight.

He gives it one stroke, two for good measure. “Stick that tongue out f’me.” He says, tip nudging the side of your face. Jake opens his eyes to watch, his tongue still flicking small circles around your clit, the bottom half of his face completely covered in your wetness. 

You stick your tongue out flat for him, Sunghoon tilts your face to the side more, tapping his cock on your tongue, pre-cum coating your taste buds.

“She might be more of a cock slut than I thought–” Sunghoon says, eyes falling to Jake between your thighs, Jake chuckles against you, tongue teasing your entrance, earning an open mouthed moan from you. 

You flick your tongue on the underside of his cock, “Ah– fuck baby” Sunghoon grunts, hips jerking forward. “Her mouth feels so fucking good” He mutters, pushing himself deeper into the warm column of your throat, trying to fit as much as you can, curling your toes even more, hands digging into the sheets further to stifle your gags.

Jake plunges his tongue inside of your pussy at the same time, nose bumping your clit, you moan around Sunghoons dick and his hand slams against the wall, trying to keep himself from completely breaking down from this.

“Come on– put those hands to good use” He reaches down, yanking your hand from the sheets, making you cup his balls in your hand. “Yeah– just like that” He throws his head back, his hips thrusting into your warm mouth.

Jake curls his tongue deeper inside of you, nearly moaning into your heat at the taste of you, the one he's been thinking about—dreaming about since the day you first let him touch you.

Your other hand lifts from the sheets, tangling in his hair as his tongue nudges that sweet spot inside of you, his nose adding pressure to your clit.

“Fuck–I can’t” Sunghoon pulls out of your mouth, and you whine at the loss of his heavy length so close to you. “I can’t come yet–” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before spreading your legs wider.

“She’s close” Jake pants against you, moving over slightly. You attempt to close your legs again, just to keep Jake's head locked between them but Sunghoon grips your thigh– hard.

“I wanna taste.” Sunghoon says with a shit eating grin before settling next to Jake in between your legs. 

You attempt to prop yourself up on your trembling arms just to watch them. “Spread her pussy–” Jake breathes, drool practically leaking from his mouth.

They both use their fingers to spread your folds, entranced with watching the way it desperately pulses with need. “So fuckin’ pretty..” Sunghoon says, pressing a thankful kiss to your inner thigh. 

They both dive in at the same time, tongues swirling around your clit, Your mouth hangs open as you watch, small “ah’ sounds leaving your lips as their tongues bump each other.

Fuck thats hot. “Just–yeah.. Fuck!” Your hips buck as Sunghoon shoves his sharp tongue into your sopping hole, Jake’s tongue joining him, He groans at how small the space is, but he doesn't care, not with the juices flooding out of you, and the sounds escaping your lips.

“Suck her clit” Sunghoon mumbles, Jake fixes his attention back on the sensitive bud, shifting to give himself enough room to do so.

“Jake!- oh my fuck.. Hoon–” you cry out, your legs spasming from the build up, “Im gonna come– shit! i cant–” You're a moaning mess when you reach your high, your arms practically giving out as your arch off the bed.

Sunghoons hand flies up holding your legs open as your juices coat both of their faces, they slurp at your pussy greedily, trying to drink in as much as possible, groaning, mouths bumping each other through your heat. 

Stars– you swear you see stars, your eyes rolling as their tongues slow, “Think she can squirt?” Jake asks, voice low for Sunghoon to hear. 

“Oh, I know she can.” Sunghoon says with a smirk, pulling back. Jake stands up, hands quick to take off his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

Sunghoon settles beside you instead, his hand coming down to run through your pussy, collecting your new juices on his fingers. “Look at that–” He shows Jake, spreading his fingers so he can see the strings of arousal breaking.

“You wanna be a good girl right?” You nod immediately, too fucked out to even respond with words.

Jake chuckles, moving to take off his low hanging sweatpants easily. His hard bulge evidently clear in his boxers, you look down at Sunghoon's leaking cock, still wet from your saliva. He catches your stare “Patience.” 

He doesn't warn you before dipping his long fingers into your hole, but its not the same measured way he had done in the car– it’s fucking brutal.

He doesn't set a pace, ramming his fingers in and out of you, palm slapping your clit hard with every thrust. “We wanna see if this little thing can squirt” Sunghoon says, he presses his fist against your bladder, your hands fly out, holding onto his forearm

“She’s close– I can feel it.” Sunghoon says, looking at Jake for a split second. Jake settles between your thighs again, waiting. 

“S-shit– Hoon! Im gonna pee..I–” Sunghoon curls his fingers harshly before pulling them out, fist still pressing against your lower stomach as the warm liquid comes flying out, Jake opens his mouth, tongue out as you coat his face in your wetness.

Sunghoon slaps his hand down on your pussy “Come on, give him some more baby,” He grunts, slapping his palm down repeatedly, stimulating you until your whole body is shaking.

You look down at Jake between your thighs, your juices splattered everywhere, on his face, neck, the sheets below you.

And he smiles, actually fucking smiles before running a hand down his face. “Knew it.” Sunghoon says, lightly tapping your clit once before retracting his hand. You whimper at the loss and he tsks, 

“I’ll tell you what's gonna happen.” Sunghoon says, standing up. You watch with wide eyes as he lifts his shirt over his head, fully pulling off his pants and boxers, you turn to Jake, eyeing his cock, you don’t even know when he got fully undresses.

But it's big. You knew it was big from those times he’d have you warm him up by sitting on his lap, especially from his pictures and videos. But seeing it like this, flushed, angry, veins mirroring the ones on his hands and forearms, has your pussy begging for more. 

“Jakes is gonna stretch that pretty hole open, but he doesn't get to come in you. Not before me anyway.” Jake rolls his eyes at that, cursing himself for making that another perk from the ‘underwear color’ bet.

“You can handle it, right baby?” Sunghoon coos, brushing your hair out of your face gently “Yes, I can.” Jake taps his dick on your pussy, smearing your juices

“I need to see those tits–” Jake urges, Sunghoons hand reaches behind your back, lifting your body slightly to unclasp your sports bra, he tosses it aside, hands flying down to pinch your nipples.

“Fuck you’re perfect” Jake groans, tip just add your entrance, he grips your hips, sliding in with surprising ease with how wet you are from coming, twice. He grips your hips harder at the warmth– the tightness.

Your mouth falls open at the stretch, you can feel every ridge of his cock, your walls fully enveloping him, sucking him in greedily. 

“She’s so fucking tight” Jake breathes out, eyebrows knitted together as he rolls his hips slowly, deep inside of you.

You moan at how good it feels to be filled like this, Jake watches closely as he pulls out only to thrust back in slowly, Sunghoon pinches your nipples again, enjoying the look on your face.

“F-faster” You moan out, “See, greedy.” Sunghoon says with a smirk on his face.

“You asked for it princess.” Jake's hands dig into your hips deeper, he pulls out before thrusting in, hard. His hand comes up, grabbing one of your tits in his hand as it bounces with each thrust, the wet sounds filling the room.

His hips snapping against yours, he presses down on your stomach and you gasp, Sunghoon smirks at the visual of his cock moving in and out of you, watching as you fall apart

“Oh fuck– fuck-” Jake pulls out quickly, gripping your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. You cry out at the loss– you were so, so close to coming again, this time all over a cock

“Shh, you’ll get what you want baby.” Sunghoon says, this time he settles in between your legs, “Hm.. turn around.”

“Huh?” You ask, looking up cluelessly, making Jake roll his eyes disbelieving. “Turn the fuck around, all fours.” Sunghoon says, You lift yourself up on weak arms, the new position feeling even more vulnerable, he presses down on your lower back, encouraging your arch.

“There we go..so perfect for us.” You can't help but blush at the praise, He lands a sharp smack on your ass, your body jerks as a red spot blooms, he rubs it with his palm gently.

Jake climbs on the bed, settling right in front of your face, he strokes his cock, watching as your eyes meet his, “I'm gonna use this pretty mouth, is that okay princess?”

You nod, sticking your tongue out, nearly screaming as Sunghoon rams into you with a sharp thrust, His long dick hitting deeply. “Oh fuck!” You yell, reaching out to grasp onto something, you claw at Jake's abs and he can't help but laugh. “So damn cute.” 

“Look at this ass–” Sunghoon slaps his palm down hard, just to see the way it reddens. He’s not slow when he fucks into you, hands gripping at your hips, palming your ass as he thrusts into you sharply.

Your mouth hangs open and Jake takes it as a sign, shoving his fat cock into the warmth. He chokes on a moan when your lips suction around him “Fuck you were right–” He pants, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and finding a rhythm of fucking into your mouth. 

Sunghoon feels your pussy clamp tight around him, squeezing him relentlessly. You’re moaning around Jake's dick, sending vibrations straight to his tightening balls.

He knows you're close, he knows Jake is too, and he wants it to happen at the same time. “F-fuck..” Sunghoon groans, hips snapping into yours uncontrollably quick, balls slapping against your pussy with every brutal thrust.

You hold on to Jakes thighs as you feel yourself flutter around him, his fingers dig into the soft skin of your ass

“Im gonna come– princess fuck!” Jake moans out, Sunghoon pulls you against him hard, you’re squeezing around him, eyes rolling back as you come on his cock, your juices coating his dick as he shoots his warm come inside of you, painting your insides.

Jake shoves himself deep in your throat, making you swallow every drop he can give. He wipes the tears that managed to escape your eyes before pulling his cock out, Sunghoon flips you over so you’re facing him. “You did so good, baby” He says, rolling his hips once more before inching his cock out slowly, you both wince at the sensitivity. 

He watches as his come mixed with yours oozes out of your hole, looking over at Jake. “Next time I'm coming inside of her.” Jake says, holding his phone.

You look at the both of them “Next time?” You ask, voice quiet and rough from Jake fucking your throat.

They look at each other, “You thought this was a one time thing Princess?” Jake asks, genuinely confused.

“I wouldn't be able to forget this if I tried.” Sunghoon says, watching as Jake opens the camera app.

He’s quick to snap a photo of you, capturing your face, the drool and cum on your lips, and the way Sunghoons cum leaks out of your perfect pussy. “Hey you’re not–”

"That's just for us, Princess.” Jake says, typing on his phone, making a group chat with him, Sunghoon, and you. 

Sunghoon picks up his shirt from the ground, too lazy to grab a towel, he double checks to make sure Jake got the photo before wiping your pussy gently, you wince at the feeling.

“What should the name be?” Jake turns to Sunghoon, “Let me see—“ you reach up to grab the phone and he gives it to you willingly.

You type out a name for the groupchat and hand it back, they both can't help the smile that coats their faces.

“Sharing is caring.” Sunghoon reads it off, “That's good princess, real good.” Jake smiles leaning down to press a kiss against your lips before laying next to you.

Sunghoon finishes wiping your thighs, settling on the other side of you, fingers twirling your hair like always.

Maybe it's okay to be a little selfish sometimes, especially if this is the outcome.

-

Alright so why arent they both in my bed RN. I also wrote this while ovulating so..

Anyways I hope you guys liked!

taglist 1: @cloud-lyy @simsdoll @woniesss @cherryw0n @kitteaasstuff @winnietheko0 @rayuverse @teenagecheesecakereview @yjwswhilom @v3lv3t-th1rst @angeliykyk @cutiepatootiejungwon @aiikeu @vissnipherwifeey @devilish-meangadh @ellushic @maedearest @a120102 @sunmoonnie @sim-saphire88 @xomartinii @jaehyp @hyuckzcult @starry-eyed-bimbo @ilovesatoruuuuu @byhsng @enhalxvr @easyhyunho @sooooobean @cokewithcameron @heewonfiles @roslayy @annaaaaanguyenn @teezglitter @hhoneyhan @chyssly @cinnamonlovr @endukki @rpwpthv @all4moi @cartiant @ily4hoonity @01209r @manzki @skylarwrite @ykzay @yjwswhilom @saamaoaiwyq @dheimyoung-im24 @pqrkjyx

[arelyvn]

A REAL MAN - SJY ༄.°

Jake Sim, son of one of the most wealthiest CEOs in Australia. Who also happens to be the man your parents set you to marry at 20 years old, and now—five years later, the father of your child. You and Jake have a..rocky relationship to say the least. The real question is, who’s going to be the first to break?

sim jaeyun x fem! reader

content warnings: smut, fluff, slight angst if you squint, arranged marriage, reader and jake have a kid, forced proximity, unprotected sex, pussy eating, breeding, fingering, masturbation (m & f), nipple stimulation, tit obsessed jake (he’s also pussy drunk asf), wet dreams, squirting, teasing, stubborn/avoidant reader, suggestive jokes, jake calls reader “mama”, mentions of alcohol and controlling parents, featuring Sunghoon and Jay. Just know Jake wants it real bad and he’s kind of pathetic.

word count: 21k (I got carried away)

this builds off of my jay fic here: Sweet Desire, but it can be read alone

The day you were informed of the arrangement, your whole world crashed on you. To be fair, you knew it was coming, your parents made sure of it. The constant reminders to not waste time on the boys around you because you were bound to marry one of their choice.

Jake Sim, Son of one of the most wealthiest CEO’s in Australia. Before you married him, you met him briefly when your parents dragged you to Australia to confirm everything. You had no choice of course.

One thing you didn’t miss was how handsome he was. Not to mention that ridiculous accent, if it hadn't been an arrangement you would have definitely gone after him.

He didn’t love you though. Not in the way husbands love their wives. Because this was all for one thing, to join your families. And that's all he saw it as, just another task his parents assigned for him.

After you got married, he didn’t touch you for almost eight months. The only reason he did was because both of your parents, demanding, constantly asking why you haven’t announced your pregnancy to them. 

The night he did touch you that way, he could barely even look at you. If he was being honest, he enjoyed it but he wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.

It felt good. You remember the feeling of him, the sounds, the words he let slip out in the moment, but after that it was meaningless. 

You lived together during the pregnancy, he helped you, he was caring. Caring in a way he hadn’t been before you had his child in you. Over the course of those nine months you grew a special connection together.

Becoming a mother was something you expected, but you had always thought of it to be different, not something arranged, a duty needing to be fulfilled.

Like the movies you would watch, the books you secretly read, maybe even the dreams you had, but then again—do they really always come true?

Then the arguments started, the fighting. He never laid a hand on you, never hurt you, but most of all he never touched you sexually again. Was it because he thought it wouldn't be good? Because you were no longer ‘fit’?

Which was many people's explanation why their husbands wouldn't touch them. But you constantly reminded yourself, he’s hardly your husband, this is simply an arrangement.

Which is exactly why you’re in your car now, with your four year old daughter, driving to Jake Sim’s house to drop her off for the week. 

On paper you two are married, but in reality you moved out when your daughter turned one. You couldn’t handle it anymore, and you figured it would be best if she didn’t grow up in a house full of arguments from the people who were supposed to be her role models.

Jake didn’t seem to mind, his time mostly consisted of working, trying to expand his knowledge on his father’s company which he was going to inherit. 

One thing you did agree on, was that you were able to see other people, date whoever, fuck whoever. Obviously you both had needs, needs that you weren’t willing to fulfill with each other. The only thing was you couldn’t introduce said person to Layla.

“Daddy said he’d buy me the whole barbie section from the store!” Your daughter says, playing with the dolls he apparently just bought her a few weeks ago.

“You already have all of them right sweetheart?” You ask, turning into the gated neighborhood, the houses are pretty spaced apart since they're huge. You don’t understand why he didn’t just move to a smaller place afterwards,  6 bedrooms is extremely unnecessary for one man.

“Not the camping ones” she looks out the window as you pull into his driveway with a smile on her face. You glance down at your outfit, So what if you are wearing something nice, and a little more makeup then normal..nothing wrong with dressing up a little. 

You move to the trunk to get the backpack with everything she needs from your place before getting her from the backseat “You ready Lay?” You ask helping her out, and holding her hand as you walk to his front door, before you're even on the front porch the door opens, you pause, she lets go of your hand to run to him, jumping in his arms. 

He’s wearing some jeans with a casual sweater, his hair styled, but messy at the same time. “Aw, sweet girl, you missed me?” He says hugging her back, holding her in his arms.

He offers a tight lipped smile to you before inviting you in, “I wanna play with the barbie house!” She says, squirming to get out of his arms, he puts her down, watching as she runs off to the living room to play.

You set the backpack down on the kitchen island before looking around, nothing seems different from the last time you were here.

“The drive was okay?” He asks, walking past you into the kitchen, hips brushing yours. You don’t know if it was intentionally, but you do know every nerve in your body felt it. “Yeah, traffic wasn't terrible.” You nod, slightly cringing at the attempt in small talk. 

“Im going to use the bathroom” You say abruptly, “Second door on the right.” He offers, “I know.” He lets his eyes drop to your outfit for a split second before you disappear down the hall.

You walk to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you before bracing your hands on the counter, looking up at your reflection. 

God, you're actually pathetic.

You wait a few minutes before you flush the toilet, you didn't even have to use the bathroom.

Jake moved to the living room, sitting on the couch watching Layla play with her toys with a smile on his face. You don't look at him before crouching down beside her 

“Mommy’s going to leave now okay?” You smile softly, “But I want you and Daddy to both play!” she frowns, looking at Jake than at you, you can't help but share the same frown before leaning in to give her a hug, she wraps her arms around your neck.

Jake watches the interaction, he cant help the slight ting of guilt that hits his chest, he watches you pull back to kiss her forehead before standing up. 

“I'll walk you out” he stands with you, following you to the door, you step out before turning to face him “I won't be able to call her goodnight tomorrow.” You say, watching him lean against the door frame, eye brow raised.

“Why?” he asks the question like it’s his business to know. “I'm just- I’ll be busy.”

“Ah, a date?”

“What- Thats none of your business” You say defensively 

“So a date then.” He sighs, watching the way your face morphs to irritation.

You dodge his question “No ice cream for dinner.” You mutter before turning to walk to your car, he closes the door once you drive off, before putting his attention back on his adorable daughter.

-

“She’s dating now? Damn, about time.” Sunghoon mutters, putting down the weights he was just lifting.

“About time? No, fuck no.” Jake replies back, grabbing heavier weights just to feel something. “Why’re you pressed about it? You’ve fucked plenty of girls since.” Sunghoon says casually.

“Well it’s–different..” 

“Nope, not that different.” 

“You’re not helping.”

“Did you guys not agree to do just that? It’s not like she’s getting married to another guy. She probably just needs to get laid.” Sunghoon offers bluntly, earning a glare from Jake.

Yeah, that was the agreement, but it doesn't help the thoughts going through his mind. Sure he’s had plenty of useless fucks, using his hand gets boring. But he hasn't dated officially, so you going on a date, just makes shit worse.

“When was the last time you actually got pussy then?” Sunghoon asks, finishing his set of bicep curls.

“Shit, like a few weeks back–”

“That’s why you’re so fucking frustrated.” He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

“How’s things going with that Sara girl?” He questions, downing his water

“Who?” Jake asks, genuinely confused

“Sara, the girl you met at the bar?” 

“Oh–I don't know, She’s just kind of..boring.” 

“Wish she was y/n huh?” Sunghoon smirks 

“Bro fuck you, when was the last time you–”

“Last night.” Sunghoon replies immediately, Jake opens his mouth to speak, closes it.

“Okay, what were you saying about the weights?” Jake asks, changing the topic, earning a laugh from Sunghoon.

As soon as Jake gets home, he wakes up Layla, who attempts to sprint down the stairs just to see the guest he brought back.

“Hoon!” Layla practically screams, running up to his best friend to give him a hug, “Hey Lay, Just had to stop by to pick up something” Sunghoon smiles down at her, the cocky bastard exterior gone, making Jake roll his eyes. “The papers are in my study. I'll be right back.” Jake says, walking upstairs.

Sunghoon is his best friend, someone who he can really trust. He’s one of the few people in his life who know about the arrangement between you and him.

He also happens to work at his fathers company, one that Jake will soon inherit. The only steady thing in his life consists of work at this point. 

He can't help the laugh that slips past his lips when he sees Sunghoon sitting on the ground, holding a fairy barbie and talking in a pitch way too high for a 25 year old man.

“No! You were supposed to give up your wings so mermaid Barbie can swim!” Layla says in a sharp tone talking to Sunghoon “Sorry, sorry, take the wings please–” He apologises as if he’s scared of upsetting her-

“Having fun?” Jake smirks walking over to him “So much fun” Sunghoon replies standing up and taking the papers from him.

“Bye Layla, ill see you soon” Sunghoon says, rubbing Layla's head before turning to the door “Gym same time tomorrow?” He adds

Jake nods, walking to the kitchen as the front door shuts.

“Hm I guess ill just eat all this ice cream by myself” Jake says loud enough, less then 10 seconds pass until Layla's running over to the kitchen with a smile on her face.

-

The date was genuinely horrible. Some guy your friend tried setting you up with, all he did was talk about himself the whole time. You slip off your heels before stepping inside your house, who knew listenting to someone brag about themselve could be so fucking exhausting. 

You’re so sexually frustrated it's insane. Since when did finding a quick hookup become so hard? You crawl into your bed not bothering to change out of your dress. 

You lay there for a moment, contemplating, before deciding to reach into your side drawer, pulling out one of the things that has kept you sane this entire time.

You hike up your dress to your hips before brushing your fingers in between your legs, feeling the dampness coat your fingers through the thin fabric of your panties. You push them to the side before clicking the button on your vibrator.

The low buzz filling the silence of the room before you bring it down to your core, your hips instantly jolt at the feeling, you rub small circles on your clit with it, pinching your nipples through your dress before closing your eyes, trying to imagine someone else pleasuring you, bringing you closer instead of yourself..someone like–Jake..

Oh hell no.

You open your eyes, turning off the vibrator before sitting up. “No, no, absolutely not.” Anything but him, anyone but him. It’s like the universe wants you to think about him as his name flashes across your screen.

“Fuck.” You whisper, grabbing the phone, you fix your hair in the reflection looking back at you before clicking accept.

“Hey y/n, Layla wanted me to call you, she said she wouldn't sleep unless you said goodnight–are you good?” He pauses, looking at your flushed face on his phone

“What? Good, yes I'm good- why are you asking that. Just show me Lay.” You feel your heart racing in your chest, why does it feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't.

“Okay.” He simply says before giving Layla the phone

“Daddy said you wouldn't be able to call tonight but I still wanted to see you” Layla pouts, you can't help the warm feeling in your chest at how cute she is “I'm here now sweetheart, I hope you sleep well and have good dreams okay?” You say sweetly, blowing her a small kiss before Jake takes the phone back.

“Goodnight Layla” He says, you don't see his face but you watch the lights turn off and listen to the sound of the door shutting. “Alright bye-”

“How was the date?” He asks, walking to what seems to be his room and sitting on his bed, the camera is now on him, you watch him push his black framed glasses up his nose with his finger, fuck, why are his hands so damn hot.

“What–” 

“That bad huh?” He chuckles, the sound low, in amusement. “It's none of your business.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I think it is my business what my wife does.” That has you fucking shook. “Your wife? Are you serious right now?”

“Very. If the date went well, you wouldn't have answered the phone. Yet here you are.” He can't hide the smirk that coats his face. “You have no room to talk–” You snap back, “You just answered my question for me anyway” He dodges your statement, with a proud look on his face, God–he’s such an ass.

“I’m not talking to you unless it's about Layla. Goodnight.” You say, tone stern before hanging up.

What the hell is wrong with him? You knew he was a cocky asshole the second you met him all those years ago.

But you can't deny, he’s a damn good father.

-

You got the call in the middle of the day while making yourself coffee in your offices lounge.

“Is she hurt?” You ask frantically, packing your bag and letting your boss know you have an emergency.

You don't have to work honestly, you're wealthy enough to spend your days slouching around the house, but you like being on your feet, because sitting down for too long is when the overthinking happens.

“No Mrs. Sim, She’s not hurt, but she did lay hands on another student. Which is completely unacceptable here.” The Director of Layla's pre-school says.

“Did you call her father as well?”, “Yes ma’am, Mr. Sim is on his way right now.” She says cliply. You let out a sigh “I’ll be there right away.” You say before hanging up and getting in your car immediately.

Once you get to the school, you see Jake pacing outside of the Director's office, he’s in a suit, he must have just come from work too. You smooth down your blouse and business pants before walking over to him, the sound of your heels being the only thing in the empty hallway, he stops to look at you, not having time to fully take you in

“Where is she?” You ask, hand gripping your phone hard. “They took her to a different classroom, some bullshit about needing to calm herself down.” He says, pushing his hair back.

“Layla would never do something like this, not just because anyway. There has to be a reason.” You bite your lip in frustration before knocking on the door of the office. “Come in.” you hear the stern voice of the Director say, before looking at Jake who nods. 

You both walk in, taking the seats in front of her desk, “Good evening Mr, and Mrs. Sim, I'm sure you know why I've called you here.” She says, eyes darting between the two of you.

You can't help the way your hand grips your phone tighter at the use of the last name, the one that feels like it doesn't even belong to you. “We also do not tolerate any form of violence here. Since this is the first and hopefully only time, we've given her a warning, due to the..circumstances of the action.” You raise a brow at that 

“What ‘circumstances’?” Jake asks, tone serious. “Well, another student had actually taken her..barbie doll, and–” She clears her throat “Ripped the head off..” She finishes, looking at the both of you and the confused looks on your faces

“So she kicked him.” You see Jake slightly relax in his chair, “So she was just defending herself then.” He offers, “Well, in a sense, but it's still not acceptable, like I said we forbid any violence. So there is another reason I called you both here today.” You raise your brow as she continues talking

“Is there something going on at home?” She asks, looking at you then at him. You scoff at that “No, everything's perfectly fine.” You simply say, you watch the way Jake shifts in his chair, earning a glare from you and a curious look from the director

“And you Mr. Sim?” She says, “Right, Yes everything's fine, nothing more than the perfect family.” He smiles, that performative one you always see in the business photos. “Good to hear. Layla should be waiting outside, Thank you for coming all this way.” You nod, before standing up, Jake follows after you. 

As soon as you see her, you crouch down to her level in the chair “Lay, baby–” You look down at the doll in her hand, ruined.

“Layla-” Jake whispers, sitting down next to her, she looks up at you, tears in her eyes, her face slightly red from crying earlier. You swipe them away with your thumb gently “H-he took it from me..a-and he broke it mommy” She says, voice trembling, you look up at Jake, you see that familiar look of anger flash on his features.

“I k-kicked him..I know I shouldn't have Im s-sorry” She says before breaking into a sob, and hugging you.

You hug her back immediately, hand smoothing down the back of her head before looking at Jake, He doesn't say anything before standing up and storming back into the directors office, shutting the door behind him. You don't stop him either, because you know exactly what he’s going to do.

You pull back to look at her, your heart hurts to see her like this. “Listen, I'm not saying violence is okay, but I'm glad you defended yourself okay?”

You tuck her hair behind her ear “I don’t want you to solve problems with violence, do you understand?” you ask gently, she nods looking down at her barbie ashamed, you press a kiss to her forehead before standing up. 

Jake walks out of the office not even 5 minutes later, "I've got the kids parents contact, he wont mess with her again.” Is all he says before picking up Layla in his arms and walking outside to his car, you follow after him, watching as he buckles her up in the car. He swipes a thumb over her cheek gently before shutting the door and turning to face you. 

“Perfect family huh?” You cross your arms over your chest, watching his face “She bought it.” He simply says. “Yeah, you’re pretty good at lying.”

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means what I said.” You reply back snappy 

“Yeah okay y/n, im not doing this shit” He rubs his nose bridge before looking at you again “Typical of you, being an avoidant asshole.” You don't know where this is coming from, but you can't stop the words from coming out, the pent of frustration boiling in you.

He sighs, looking down at his shoes before back at you, something you can't quite pin flashing in his eyes. “I’ll see you on Friday.” His tone is sharp before turning around and getting in his car.

You don't say anything before walking to yours, the sole of your heels digging into your feet irritating you, but nothing can possibly be more irritating than Jake Sim.

-

Friday comes sooner than expected, Jake messaged you a brief “On the way.” 20 minutes ago.

You opted for some lounge pants and a sweater today. “Mommy!” Layla's bright voice says the second you open the door “Hi angel” You smile when she hugs your leg, before looking at Jake.

He’s wearing a navy suit today, glasses. You try not to think about how good he looks in those glasses.

You look down at the pink backpack on his shoulder “Oh- um, you can come in–” You say, walking back.

The place is perfectly curated to how you want. So much more different than his house, You don't see the deep inhale he takes.

It smells so much like you. “You can just put the bag wherever” You say briefly. “Y/n-”

“Mommy guess what!” Layla drags your attention to her, you tilt your head “Daddy said we're going to Italy with grandma and grandpa!” she says, tugging your pant leg, you don't smile. You look up at a very nervous looking Jake,

“Oh really sweetheart?” You ask, still looking at him. “Yup! Grandma called” She giggles, you lower yourself to the ground to talk to her face to face “Can you go to your room angel? Me and daddy need to have an adult conversation okay?” She nods, completely clueless that she just practically dropped a bomb on you.

When you see she’s down the hall you whip your head to Jake “What the fuck?” You look at him eyes wide

“I know, okay I know.” He buries his face in his hands, “When is this happening.”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks Jake, are you serious? When the hell were you planning on telling me?”

“Come on y/n. You know how they get. They want us all to be one big happy family or something–” He sighs “Who else is going "

"I don't know, it was brief.” You look at him like he has two heads “No. No I cannot do this, I absolutely cannot fucking do this.” You walk to the kitchen, pacing around, he follows

“Like what the fuck was going through your head when you said I would go?” You try not to raise your voice so Layla doesn't hear.

“If I had a choice I would have said no. You know how they are, they expect you to be there.” He says, watching you.

“How long is it?” You ask, trying to remain sane.

“A week.”

“No fucking way, no actual fucking way.” You don't even know what to say. “I cannot be stuck in Italy with you for a week, no way in hell.”

“Geez, didn't know I was that bad.” He says, leaning against the counter, like he belongs in your house. 

It’s true, Jake isn't horrible, he picks up, he doesn't snore, too loud anyway. But that's not why you're stressed about this. It’s because you don't know what could happen.

“There's more..” He says, watching your reactions

“No.” because you know exactly what he’s going to say, you can feel it.

“They dont want us to stay at the estate with them in Milan. Something about us needing ‘couple time’.” You're going to throw up. You're actually going to throw up in front of him.

“I don't need them to butt into our–relationship, it's perfectly fine how it is right now.” He doesn't say anything to that.

“I know y/n. I tried to talk them out of it, but they are dead set on it.” You sit down, you can't be on your feet right now, you inhale and exhale, trying to calm the rapid pace of your heartbeat.

“I’ll probably be taking care of shit for the company anyways, it’s this whole thing with our partners from America–” He sighs, hand running through his hair in irritation.

“Okay. One week, seven days. Not bad, I can do that.” You voice your thoughts out loud unknowingly. You see him check his phone, “I have to go. We can talk about this later.” 

“Thats it? You're just leaving again? Dropping this on me?” You stand up, following him to the front door

“In case you weren't aware, I still have a company to run. Trust me I'm not thrilled about this at all, so don't get it twisted.” He says, looking down at you. 

“Fuck you.” 

He scoffs at you, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” he mutters before walking down to his car. You watch him for a moment before slamming the front door behind you. The pain in your chest doesn't go away, even when you tuck Layla in for bed that night. 

-

“Holy shit–Yeah, you might actually be fried,” Sunghoon says, not bothering to ask before sitting down at his desk across from him. “What does that even–” Jake mutters, running his hand through his hair. Attention that was once on the laptop before him gone. 

“All I'm saying is that this is not good, I mean when was the last time you two were actually together for more than one hour?” He doesn't respond

“Exactly.”

“I still haven't told her about the room situation.” Sunghoon laughs at that.

“So what? You’re just going to sleep in the same bed together” Jake nods, rubbing his eyebrows in thought “You gonna be able to resist then?” 

“What do you mean–”

“You know exactly what I mean. Let's not forget the fact that every woman you’ve been mildly interested in represents her in at least one way.” Sunghoon says, bluntly.

Jake looks down at his computer, not even bothering to argue because it's true. He made sure of it.

“I don't know, okay?” he finally says, that makes Sunghoon do a double take

“Shit. I wasn’t expecting you to admit it.” 

“Its not fair. Nothing about this is fair to her, to me. I just wish they would fucking stay out of it.” He mutters, almost to himself. Thinking back to when he first met you, he couldn't deny the immediate attraction he felt, but it all felt like this was just another thing given by his parents, you were just a task, a duty he had to fulfill. 

“It’s going to be torture. Having to put up that front, that everything is okay. Making it believable to all of them. When this whole situations fucked up.” Jake says, standing up, looking down at the city from his office window.

“I can’t say I understand it man, but if I was you, I'd meet up with her. Tell her how it’s going to go, I mean.. maybe she won't make it a big deal, right?” Sunghoon suggests, shrugging.

Sunghoon also doesn't know you as well as he does.

—“No, I dropped her off an hour ago.” You put your phone on speaker before setting it down on the bathroom counter.

“So you’re home right now?” Jake asks, you roll your eyes.

“Why?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Mhm, I'm working from home.” you say, trying on some designer dress you bought specifically for Italy.

And yes, obviously you would be excited to go, It’s not like you actually have to be with Jake the whole time anyway. You can spend some time by yourself, or with Layla.

You slip off your bra, the braless look is better for this type of dress anyway. “-outside”

“huh?” you ask, completely forgetting you were on the phone. “Im outside” He says like its the most normal thing

“Wait what-” You look at yourself in the mirror and then back at your phone “Im at the door y/n, let me in.”

“Fuck, fuck–shit” you hiss

“What, do you have someone you don't want me seeing?” That pisses you off even more. You storm downstairs, swinging the front door open with an irritated look on your face.

His gaze drops to your feet, the miss matched socks, to the extremely short, almost see through dress, to your face, and then the messy pony tail on your head.

“Playing dress up huh?” He says, walking in. You scoff before shutting the door, watching as he walks into your living room and sits on your couch.

“What are you doing here? I already said Layla was at pre school.” You walk to the living room, standing in front of him “I need to talk to you about Italy.”

“Okay what about it?” you ask, attitude leaking from your tone. “And aren't you supposed to be at work?” You look down at him, his outfit, black dress pants, to the white button up.

“No, meeting got cancelled.” Even if he was the one to cancel it himself. He decided to come straight here after talking to Sunghoon.

“Okay, spit it out then.” You cross your arms over your chest, he lets out a quiet chuckle. God, you need to be put in your place so bad sometimes.

“I tried requesting a separate room, but my parents found out about it.” He says, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar “So what the hell are you trying to say?” 

“You know exactly what I'm saying y/n.” He runs his hand down his face “Look– its one fucking week okay? Just play the part–”

“Of the perfect wife. Right.” You don't even bother sitting next to him. “We don't even have to talk to each other, I mean– when we get there we obviously have to see my mother and father, maybe the partners from America.”

He pulls out his phone “Great.” You watch him scroll through it. “This is a pretty big fucking deal for us y/n. Not everything is about you okay? You knew what you were doing the second you signed that contract five years ago.”

He stands up, gripping his phone tighter than normal in his hand. You open your mouth to speak–close it.

Jake immediately regrets his choice of words, of course you didn't know it would end up like this– separated family, separate houses–

“Y/n–” He drops his head, biting his lip in concentration “Get out Jake.” You watch the way his eyebrows furrow. You two stay there like that for a moment, in a silence, before he turns away from you. You only look at him when he speaks, his voice rough.

“I’ll message you more details later.” He says, shutting the front door behind him. You scoff, sitting down where he just was, trying to keep your cool, even if the very thing you want to do right now is slap his stupidly perfect face. 

-

You refused to take his offer of being driven to the airport, which was probably really stupid considering you were literally going to ride in his private plane, While also staying with him in Italy, while playing the part of his wife.

So obviously you wanted to hang on to your last ounce of dignity, even if paying for parking at the airport was definitely avoidable.

You look for the woman that Jake said to follow once you got to the airport. Spotting her immediately since she stood out, young, pretty.

You recognized her from when you were dragged to past work events, ones that you left 30 minutes into after making your appearance as Jake's “wife”. 

“Mrs. Sim,” She nods at you, offering to take your bags. “Thank you.” You reply shortly, falling into step beside her as she leads you to the plane, the very spacious one to be exact, from the brown leather reclining seats, to the marble accented ceilings.

You spot Layla immediately, she's sitting next to a man you recognize, Park Sunghoon. He's smiling down at something she said, holding one of her barbies in his hand. The woman next to you stares at him for a moment before facing you.

“Mr. Sim is talking to the Pilot, he wanted me to let you know this is your seat as well” She points to the window seat, among the many other ones, ah–so he's assigning shit to you now.

You set your bag down on it before walking over to Layla, “Hi angel” You smile down at her, her eyes lighting up the second she sees you “Mommy!” She yells in a high pitched tone, standing up in the seat and holding her arms out, you take her in your arms, hugging her back. 

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Sim” Sunghoon says with a smirk, the tone he uses for your name hitting a nerve only someone as cocky as him could.

“You as well, Park.” Layla twirls a strand of your hair, before wiggling out of your arms, a sign she wants to be put down.

“Here you go Miss. Layla” Sunghoon hands her the fairy barbie in his hand, eyes looking past you to the woman you were talking to earlier..

You turn around, taking Layla to your seat.

Jake comes through the Pilots cabin shortly after, glancing down at you, his eyes softening when he looks at Layla beside you.

He stops at where Sunghoon and the other woman are sitting across from each other, both with their laptops out.

“You two do realise you don't have to work while we're on the plane. Save it for when we actually get to Milan.” He sighs,

“I just like to stay ahead.” The woman says, “Let's just say I'm feeling motivated.” Sunghoon adds, eyes not living Jake's other employee. “Yeah– okay, just don’t kill eachother.”

He rolls his eyes, walking back over to where you and Layla sit, you give her the tablet you occasionally let her use, along with her pink unicorn headphones, she happily takes it, leaning against your arm.

Your hand mindlessly brushes through her hair as Jake loosens his tie, his blazer discarded already. You look down at your outfit, a pair of nice fitted jeans, silk blouse, before looking back at him.

“Whats up with those two?” You ask, nodding behind you to where Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker sit. “Ever since I hired her, Sunghoon has had this– inferior complex thing going on.” He sighs, leaning against the cushioned plane seat.

“When they work together, they definitely get shit done, but when they argue it's annoying as hell.” Jake says bluntly, glancing down at Layla, whose focus is on her tablet.

“Oh, I see.” You reply quietly, looking out the window as the plane begins rolling for take off. 

-

After an extremely long flight, and parting ways with Jake's coworkers, you finally arrive at his parents' estate in Milan.

“Just play the part” He nods at you, moving to open the car door and get Layla from the backseat. You two don't even have a chance to mentally prepare yourself when you walk in, to see Jake's mother and father both at the door.

Ignoring you and Jake, their focus immediately goes to your daughter “Princess!” His mother says, Layla skips over to her, giving her a hug, “Grandma! Grandpa! I missed you” She says, voice filled with joy, something that both you and Jake can't mirror no matter how hard you try.

His parents finally look at the two of you, “Nice to see you y/n.” His mother says, you smile tightly. “I need to talk to you son, it's about the partners from America.” His father says, giving Jake a pointed look, he fixes his posture, looking at you for a split second before following his father to his study. 

“Mommy, you and Daddy will still come and see me right?” Layla looks up at you, eyes wide and childlike.

“Of course sweetheart, we just have important stuff to take care of” You smile down at her, before looking at Jake's mother for a split second, if you looked a little longer you would see the brief concern across her face.

She has no right to feel concerned for you though, considering she's one of the reasons you're here in the first place. 

Jake shuts the door behind him, following his father to his desk in the center of the room. “My assistant got the dates wrong for when you were supposed to come.” His father says, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“What do you mean she ‘got it wrong’? You couldnt have let me know that before I flew my fucking family out?” Jake says, irritation written all over his face.

“I would have, if I knew. Park Jongseong landed a few hours after you, trust me this isn't ideal for either of us.”

“I need you to go to the Park international office headquarters before you and y/n head where you are staying. He expects you to be there, not for long, just to confirm meetings and etcetera.” His father says, leaning against the desk.

“This is a fucking mess.” Jake groans, running his hand through his hair. “Just get this done, there's going to be issues bigger than this when you actually fully take over the company son, take care of it.”

For some reason, that makes Jake even more upset. Hes fully aware of how this all ends up becoming his responsibility, hell, his whole fucking life has revoled around it, just a bunch of deals, negotiations, arrangements.

“I’ll handle it.” Jake straightens moving to the door, not looking back at his father as he approaches you.

“We need to go.” he looks at you for a brief second before he faces his mother and Layla in her arms. “Bye angel, mommy and daddy will come see you later this week okay?” His voice is gentle when talking to her

“Okay!” She says cheerfully, playing with Jake's mother's expensive diamond necklace, His mother leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Drive safe okay?” His mother says, giving him a look of warning.

“I know.” He sighs, walking towards the door, you give Layla one more kiss on her head before following him. Somehow it feels like all of this is a bad decision. 

“Where are we going.” It's not a question, it's something you're demanding to know as he pulls out of the stone driveway of his parents estate.

You look at him, his tense jaw, to his hands that are gripped on the steering wheel dangerously tight. “The Park International Office.” He replies back, eyes not leaving the road. “Okay, drop me off before then.”

“No.” 

You scoff, looking at him in disbelief “Why the hell not?” you ask, irritation leaking in your tone. The same tone he recognizes so well from when you two actually used to live together, even before you were pregnant with Layla.

“The faster we get this over with, the better.” His voice is stern, unmoving. “Fine. Don't expect me to be all enthusiastic and shit to meet your fancy clients.” You add a mocking flare to the last words, this time he actually looks at you, disbelieving.

“Gosh– I forget how fucking bratty you get.” He says, slight amusement leaking from his voice.

“Can’t forget how much of an asshole you are.” you reply back, rolling your eyes. He pushes his tongue against his cheek, gripping the steering wheel harder. 

As he puts the car into park, taking off his seatbelt, he pulls his black framed glasses from the center console, putting them on. You try not to notice the way they sit perfectly on his nose bridge.

“Just play the part.” He says low, opening the door, walking over to open yours but you already got out the second he did. You smooth down your silk blouse, he reaches to hook his arm around yours but you pull back.

“Y/n.” you let out an annoyed sound before taking his arm, the touch foreign, yet almost comforting in a way you don't want to admit. 

You see Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker once you enter the building, both with irritated looks on their faces as if they were arguing before falling into step beside Jake.

Sunghoon smirks down at you, before looking at Jake with his brow raised in a knowing look. You watch everyone's eyes follow a man, black hair, sharp features, even sharper jawline as he approaches you.

Jakes hand rests low on your waist, you feel the heat radiation off his palm through your shirt.

“Mr, and Mrs. Sim” He nods politely at you, before doing the same to Jake's coworkers out of respect. 

Jake nods back “Mr. Park.” He nods back, you cant help but notice how the man in front of you also looks like he doesn't want to be here.

You stay by Jake's side, even as the man you now recognize as Park Jongseong speaks business, the woman from the plane writing down things on a glass clipboard, while Sunghoon joins the conversation with them.

You sigh, slightly annoyed, your performative exterior crumbling the longer you have to stand by his side. 

What felt like hours, but was most likely only 30 minutes of having to perform as his ‘perfect little wife’ you two finally got to the place you were staying, an extremely nice estate, it was almost like a penthouse, overlooking the water.

You still don't understand why you and Jake couldn't have stayed at his parents estate, but you guess this is what everyone insisted on.

You shove past him to get in the room, ignoring the way he glares daggers at the back of your head, only to pause when you reach the bedroom.

He follows after you, letting one of the room service workers bring in your stuff. You both freeze, staring at the bed.

The rose petals covering the white comforter, you feel your cheeks flush when they land on the condoms, assorted to make some sort of heart on the nightstand, you quickly move, opening the drawer to shove them inside of it only for your whole body to still.

“What the fuck–” Your eyes meet a pair of handcuffs, next to them, a bottle of unopened lube.

You swear your whole body is on fire, “I-Is this some kind of like– sex resort?” You turn to Jake, gaping at him. 

He looks like he's at a loss for words, hand clutched tight around the suitcase handle. You move past him to the room service workers who are bringing in your stuff.

“Hi, sorry, I think we have the wrong room, I'm confused with all the–stuff laying around.” You can't help the slight tremble in your voice, the woman unloads your suitcase off the carrier, before standing straight.

“Ma’am, this was booked specifically with the additions to it.” She says warily.

Jake follows out the bedroom, realisation dawning. Sunghoon.

He should have known better than to have the idiot be the one to book where to stay.

“Shit.” He mutters, before looking at the woman, and the other two who helped bring your stuff up here

“You may leave, Thank you.” He hands her handfull of money, you couldn't see how much, but from the slightly shocked look on her face, you knew it was more than needed. 

The door shutting behind them, leaving you and Jake in a penthouse in Italy, alone.

One that practically screamed sex, you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him that look.

“Sunghoon booked it. I was busy with meetings– Fuck, I knew I shouldnt have let him.” He takes off his glasses rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“God, of course he would do something like this.” You look around, besides the..stuff, it was a really nice place, probably the nicest you could have gotten, but that was expected with how wealthy he was.

You sigh, not looking back before walking towards the bedroom to unpack your things.

His eyes follow you, trailing a path down your body, the way your jeans cling to your hips, swaying in a way that could make any man weak.

Example being the way some of the men in Park Jongseongs office eyed you down. 

You looked around the room- hell, Even the bathroom held the same aura as the bedroom, built for something intimate.

The shower lining the back, completely open, besides the glass in the middle, one shower head on the left, and one on the right, a fair distance away from each other, the dark tile made it feel even more dangerous.

This whole place was just one big temptation, with Jake being the center of it all. 

-

For being in the same penthouse as him, it was surprisingly easy to avoid each other. He mentioned something about Sunghoon, and this and that, in which you were half listening, half trying to ignore the way his short sleeved button up fit him.

There must be something in the air, there's stuff for that right? Perfume that makes you obnoxiously horny. Because that's the only reasonable explanation. 

You finish blow drying your hair, running the detangling oil through it, the one that smells like fruits.

Checking the time, 9:48. Layla is probably already asleep, you open your phone, checking for any notifications, a part of you already knows who you're looking for.

“Im so fucked.” Jake groans, hair messy, glasses forgotten, the first few buttons on his shirt open, his tone chest revealed.

He takes the drink the bartender offered him, her hand grazing his at the exchange, Jake doesn't even notice it. 

Sunghoon raises a brow at his state, looking at the woman behind the counter now serving a group of girls vodka shots.

The music isn't too loud, considering he specifically wanted a bar that wasn't meant for too much partying.

Jake looks around, the couples sitting down, happy, intertwined.

“Like I said, you just need some pussy.” Sunghoon mutters causally, looking as composed as ever.

“Yeah, hers.” Jake mumbles, making Sunghoon laugh, actually fucking laugh in his face. “I take it back, no amount of pussy is gonna save your ass.” 

“Fuck Hoon– they even put flowers on the bed. Don’t even get me started on the handcuffs either.” Jake rubs his temple in irritation.

“Hey, it took some real convincing to get them to go all in with the kinky shit.” Sunghoon raises his hands in defense, like that makes it any better.

“What makes you think I even–”

“Trust me, I know. Real recognizes real.” He says through a smirk. Jake can't help but let out a huffed chuckle, filled with amusement, and also disbelief.

“You know, this is honestly your fault.” Jake levels his gaze, downing the rest of his drink.

“You sure you don’t just need someone to blame for your heart throbbing obsession with your baby mama?” Sunghoon says through that shit eating grin he wears when he knows he's right. I mean hell, he might just be. 

Jake shakes his head, trying to get rid of any irrational thoughts, focusing on the truth, you want nothing to do with him in that way.

You probably hated him, most likely wouldn’t even be talking to him if it werent for Layla.

“Alright prove it then.” Sunghoon says, challenging. Jake raises a brow suspiciously, “That bartender right there in the tiny shorts, she's been eyeing you this whole time. You were too busy sulking about how much you want to fuck y/n to notice.” Sunghoon pauses for a moment, watching as Jake looks at the woman, her eyes locked on his before turning back to him.

“Flirt back, see where that leads you.” Sunghoon finished, downing the rest of his drink.

Jake chuckles, although there's no amusement filled in it, just straight up boredom. “Im not flirting with her, let alone fucking her.” Jake says, voice low.

Sunghoon's eyes light up immediately, victory gleaming in them. “Knew it.” He shakes his head, knowingly.

He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as his screen lights up with a notification. Jake watches as Sunghoon picks up his phone, reading whatever it is, typing, sending, and standing up.

“We’ve been here for less than 24 hours and you already found someone?” Jake asks, a tone of exhaustion.

“You already know it.” Sunghoon offers a playful wink, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Don’t forget about the meeting we have with Park Jongseong either, The Prada ambassadors are also attending.” Jake says sternly, his voice he uses for business coming out.

“Yes, sir.” Sunghoon chuckles, leaning against the stool for a second “You good for tonight though?” he asks, slight concern around the edges.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm headed back soon anyway.” Jake says, giving him a tight smile, Sunghoon watches him for a moment, before parting ways.

Jake stays for about five more minutes before standing up and walking back to the penthouse– to you. 

He's always been good about handling his alcohol, plus he didn't have much to drink anyway. So when you hear the sound of the door being unlocked, shut, and footsteps coming to the bedroom, you attempt to put on the facade of being fast asleep.

He walks in, closing the bedroom door shut behind him, eyes immediately on you, curled into the sheets like it was natural.

He doesn't know what comes over him when he walks over to your side of the bed, wanting to get a closer look at you, because it's been so.. so long since hes seen you like this.

He can't help himself when he brushes a finger over your cheek, it takes everything in you to stop your body from reacting.

“What are you doing to me..” He whispers, low, that you almost couldn't hear it. The slight smell of the crisp fresh air, his signature cologne,  and faint alcohol lingering off of him.

He steps back immediately, touch gone from your skin, like you burned him, or like realisation finally dawned.

You don't open your eyes yet, You listen to the sound of his footsteps, descending away from you, moving to the bathroom. 

You let out a breath, the one you've been holding ever since he opened the bedroom door, your heart beating rapidly, in a way it did when the boy you had a crush on in high school glanced your way. Childish, stupid. 

The shower feels big, empty, even more so as the cold water hits his skin repeatedly, hardly helping with the burning of his body, or the way his dick throbs the second you invade his thoughts without permission, again.

He’s fucking pathetic, you have every right to hate him.

In this moment of him being alone, surrounded by the dark, the dimmed lights illuminating the cold bathroom, all he can think about is how he would do anything to go back in time.

Put his fucked up pride to the side, anything to not be in this situation right now, with this need– not just for anyone, not for some random woman, but for you.

Because it's something about you, not just because of Layla, not because you’re ‘forced’ to be in each other's presence, he can't deny it anymore.

He can’t deny that he’s utterly obsessed with you, and absolutely fucked. Just like Sunghoon said. 

-

Falling asleep last night might have been one of the hardest things, considering you could practically feel the heat radiating off his body the second he slipped in the bed with you.

You stayed turned so you were facing the large balcony slide door, watching the moonlight seep in.

You didn't want it to affect you this much, but somehow it still did. So after finally getting the strength to get up, and get ready for the day, because you might as well attempt to enjoy being here in Italy. 

You see Jake, standing up at the edge of the counter, taking a sip of some expensive coffee.

“Took you long enough.” He tries, and fails to hide the way his eyes roam down your body, the way the floral dress clings to you, it could be considered modest, but the way it hugs your curves, makes him think things he probably shouldn't.

You raise your brow in question, closing the distance to make yourself coffee as well. He places a mug in front of you instead, catching you off guard.

You turn to look at him, eyes scanning his face, the glasses sitting on top of his head to the rather simple outfit he's sporting today.

“Whats with you, do you want something?” You ask skeptically.

Fuck yeah he wants something, preferably you though, sitting on his face perchance?

“Am I not allowed to make coffee for the mother of my child?” He turns fully, using the counter as support to lean against. 

You level your eyes even more, “I was going to head to the estate, see Layla, maybe we can take her out for the day.” He takes another sip of his coffee, brushing past you to place the mug in the sink.

“Together?” You ask suspiciously, confusion settling in your tone. “Yes y/n, together.” He says like it's the most obvious thing. Like you two do this all the time, when in reality you don’t even remember the last time he suggested something like this, if he even did.

“I mean we're both here, she's always going on about how she wants us both.” He offers lightly, watching the way your face softens.

“Okay then, for Layla.” You clarify, taking a sip of the coffee he prepared for you, the rich taste settling just right. 

“We also have dinner in 2 days with Park Jongseong and his girlfriend.” He adds in casually. Washing the mug off in the sink.

Your brain pauses for a moment, processing what just came out of his mouth. “Knew you wanted something.” You chuckle, but it's humorless.

“Its one fucking dinner y/n.” he turns, facing you. “Yeah, and a whole week of being here, stuck with you.”

He opens his mouth to speak, closes it. “We can talk about this later. Right now let's focus on Layla.”

He says it like he's being the bigger person here. As if he's not dropping things on you left and right, and that irritates you even more.

But you don’t fight it, because a part of him is right, you two can stop your bickering for a few hours to spend time with your daughter. 

-

“The purple one?” Layla asks, looking up at you, than at Jake, you glance down at the gelato in front of you, “One lavender please” You smile at the man behind the counter as he scoops it into a cone, “One lavender Gelato for you” He hands it to her, her eyes lighting up as she takes it,

“Anything for the happy couple?” He asks, eyes darting between you and Jake, you don't notice the way he stills beside you. “Can I get the Raspberry please?” The kind man nods, handing you the cone, some of it dripping on your hand due to the warm weather.

“Ill take the salted caramel” He pays for it, walking on the other side of Layla, “Should we sit at the table?” You ask Layla, looking down at her as she tries to keep up with the steps you and Jake take, her pigtails swaying with her, you smile at how happy she is.

“Yes!” Jake helps her up, taking the seat next to her, you settle for the one across from them.

Jake smiles at Layla, as she goes on about something related to her toys, and how ‘Hoon’ needs to come back and play as the fairy doll again, his eyes go to you, the light pink gelato dripping down your hand, the way your tongue darts out to lick it off.

It's like his body reacts before his mind does, he reaches over, swiping his thumb across the bottom of your lip, the gelato that dripped being cleaned up.

You freeze, eyes immediately on him. He retracts his hand immediately, “Sorry– you had something-” He stops talking when the sound of his phone cuts through, picking it up and reading whatever is on his screen.

“Are you done, Lay?” Jake looks down at Layla beside him, she nods, “Let me guess, you have somewhere to be?” You ask unsurprising. 

“Its Park Jongseong and the Prada ambassadors— nevermind” He replies blandly, standing up and helping Layla, you chuckle, but not in amusement, or in surprise, because you knew this was going to happen anyway.

“Come on Lay, you know..” You smile down at her, before looking up at him, a certain glint in your eyes. “Daddy apparently has better things to do.”

You can feel his eyes boring into you, you don't look at him when you stand up and hold her hand. Who cares if it's childish, or bratty, you’re right anyway.

“I love you angel, be good okay?” You press a light kiss to Layla's forehead, Jake gives her a hug, before heading to the front door, you offer a tight smile to his mother before following after him. 

You don't bother looking at him, or trying to talk to him once you're both in the car. You watch as Sunghoon’s name flashes across the screen, a call.

Jake looks at you for a second, before hesitantly pressing accept. “Final fuckingly man, had me thinking you actually got some–” “You’re on speaker Sunghoon.” Jake cuts through his words.

“Oh shit.. Uh– hey y/n” you can practically see the fake concern on his face. Jake sighs, urging him to continue

“Right so, Park Jongseong’s assistant said the Prada ambassadors are already at his office, they're just waiting on us.” Jake bites down on his lip, hard. “Fuck– okay, tell them ill be there shortly.” 

“I got you, don’t get too distracted..” Sunghoon says through a chuckle before hanging up. You feel a slight blush coat your cheeks at that, turning your head more towards the window to avoid Jake's gaze.

Every few minutes, he can't help when his eyes shift to you, the faint sunkissed glow coating your skin, the way your dress clings to your body–

You regret the way you acted earlier, it was a little bratty, and petty..but then again you've always been, at least according to him.

He puts the car into park, unlocking the door, you don't say anything but before you step out, you turn your face towards him.

“About earlier.. It was uncalled for, I understand you’re busy, I shouldn't have said that in front of Layla.” You bite on your lip nervously, a habit he's noticed since the day your parents introduced the two of you. 

He raises a brow, a playful smirk on his face “Are you apologizing?” He asks, eyeing you up and down

“What– I mean.. I-” You stumble over your words, making him let out an amused laugh “It’s fine y/n. I know I'm not the best..” He pauses, looking down for a split second to think of the right word “..arrange..ment.” he cringes at the end,

“I try for Layla, even with the shit from the company piling up.” His hand rests steady on the steering wheel, You watch his face, his eyes, taking in the sincerity.

“You’re a good father, Jake.”

You don't try to put on a forced smile, before stepping out of the car fully, shutting the door behind you, the second you're out of sight he buries his face in his hands, letting out a strangled groan. God– you’re killing him, so fucking slowly. 

-

“Fuck– Ive been wanting to do this for so long” Jake says through a groan, pounding ruthlessly into you. You mutter something back, face buried into the soft pillows beneath you, not even caring about the saliva coming out of your mouth from how hard he’s fucking you. 

“Want me to fill this pretty pussy up again?” he leans down, pulling your hair back to expose your neck, hips slamming into you, making your back arch against his chest. You're a moaning mess under him, his teeth nip below your ear, his free hand holding your hip, grounding you as his thrusts grow sharper—

Jake freezes at the door of the bedroom as soon as he opens it, eyes wide looking at you, the sheets tangled around the ends of your feet, almost your whole body exposed, the oversized T-shirt you're wearing ridden up to reveal a glimpse of your underboob, your light pink sleep shorts practically sticking to your core, a faint outline of your pussy visible even through the clothing layers with how wet you seem to be.

Theres no fucking way– 

A whine escapes your lips, or was it a moan? He can't help but step closer, lingering at the edge of the bed, your body squirms, thighs squeezing together in a poor attempt to satisfy the throbbing heat between your legs.

The smell of you so fucking delicious, clouding his senses. He almost feels sorry for you, gosh you must be desperate if you're having a wet dream in the middle of your shared bed with him. You let out another small noise, or was it a word? 

He brings his finger up, gently swiping away a bead of sweat from above your eyebrow, trailing down your arm, lightly over the curve of your exposed hip, leaning closer to hear you better

“J-Jake..” You whisper, barely audible, he stills, stepping back, running a hand through his hair.

Fuck this is wrong.. This is so, so wrong, He looks down at you again, biting his lip in thought. 

He ultimately grabs the sheet, bringing it up from your feet to cover your body, trying to ignore the heat of your skin.

This cannot be real. He glances down at you one more time before going to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click, leaning against it.

Letting the cool crisp air swallow him, anything to get rid of what he's feeling right now. He looks down, the hard bulge now clearly visible in his pants.

Bringing his hand down to palm himself through them, he hisses at the contact, how sensitive he is right now. 

He wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt, discarding his pants and underwear next, stepping inside of the big shower, cool tile against his feet, he turns on the water, the warmth coating his skin.

The water drips down his body, he lifts a hand to steady himself against the black tile wall, bringing his other down to wrap around his thick cock, practically standing on its own, tip angry and red from how much he's neglected his own pleasure.

Pumping his fist once, a bead of pre cum slips out of the slit, mixing with the warm shower water as it drains beneath his feet.

“Fuck..” He groans, fucking into his fist faster, leaning his head back as the water falls onto his face, his mouth hangs open, he closes his eyes, trying to imagine what you were thinking about, fuck his name sounds so pretty coming from your mouth, especially like that. 

His groans grow more ragged as he strokes himself faster, “y/n..” he bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood as his warm cum spurts out, coating the dark tile wall, dripping down, making a mess on his hand, he looks down, eyebrows furrowed as he attempts to milk every last drop, watching as the water washes it away.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, almost pitying himself and this whole situation. 

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, the bright sun shining in through the sheer curtains illuminating the bedroom.

Even in the shower as the warm water hits your skin, you couldn't shake the dream you had last night, how real it felt, the way he spoke, the way he touched you– the closeness of it all, so vividly in your reach. 

You decided, well actually you were technically forced to use this day for yourself.

He was working. In all honesty, he didn't have to, but being with you again, alone, was killing him. 

You were enjoying yourself, as one would do in Italy of all places, soaking in the warm sun on the balcony, book in hand when you got the text, the one that made your phone vibrate a little too loudly against the glass side table.

Something about it already told you it wasn't going to be good.

Jake: Client dinner tonight with Park Jongseong and his girlfriend. 7:00. Your dress is being dropped off now. I’ll be there at 6:45 to pick you up. Clean up for me, yeah?

You read the message once, twice, practically hearing the smugness in his voice at the last few words.

You type out a reply, delete it. He smirks down at his phone, seeing that you read it was enough. 

Exactly 30 minutes later, the same woman from the airplane stands at the front door of the penthouse, garment bag in hand.

“Thank you.” You give her a soft smile, one that she attempts to mirror back, handing the dress to you. “Mr. Sim informed me you had the jewelry you needed, but if you need me too I can arrange–” 

“It's fine.” You reply back dryly, she pauses for a moment “God, Sorry I'm just stressed” You fold the dress over your arm.

“Thank you, and yes I have everything I need.” You say, breathing out. She offers a tight lipped smile, giving a polite nod before walking back towards the elevator, you shut the door once she's out of sight.

“Oh my gosh–” you gape at the dress, fully taking it out of the garment bag, laying on the bed before you.

The dark red contrasts with the white sheets, the cut a little too deep for something like this. You glance at the time on your phone, 5:26, if you start getting ready now you should be done before he gets here.. You bite your lip, contemplating. No harm in starting early, you have nothing to do in the meantime anyway. 

“Y/n–” Jake's eyes trail down your body, shamelessly, like he has the right– “You look..”

“Dont.” You hold your hand up giving him an almost strict look, while also suddenly feeling conscious of how low cut the dress is, the silk material soft on your skin.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, eyes staying glued to your chest without you knowing before putting the car into drive. 

Park Jongseong, or Jay, as his girlfriend called him came in shortly after you and Jake sat down, the restaurant had a warm glow to it, truly an elegant place.

His girlfriend had the most genuine smile on her face. The dinner was going smoothly, as anything work related with Jake could be until she asked a question that had both you and Jake tensing beside each other

“So, How long have you two been married?” She asks sweetly, genuine curiosity in her eyes, you look at Jake for a split second, missing the way Jay squeezes her thigh, “Um- well we-” Jake interrupts quickly

“We had Layla four years ago, so around that.. Time.” He says, clearing his throat. The conversation quickly switches thanks to Jay.

The ride back was quiet until Jake decided to open his mouth. “Do you think I was too obvious?” He asks, eyes on the thin road before him, you turn your head from the window, looking at him, analysing the nervous way he brings his lip between his teeth, the slight movement of his jaw.

“What? About how we’re not actually the perfect, happy family you seem to paint us as?” You ask, a surprising calmness in your voice.

He shoots you a look, eyes dropping to your lips for a split second, before looking away just as quickly.

You scoff, “Anyone with half a brain could see.” 

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” He pulls the car into park, looking at you, expecting an answer.

“Im not doing this tonight.” You reach to open the car door but he stops your hand, grip tight, not enough to hurt, but enough to assert something deep. 

“No. Tell me what you mean.” You shake off his hand, the heat of it too much on your skin, praying that he didn't notice the way your pulse spiked the second his skin made contact with yours.

You sigh, facing him fully.

“You don't act like my husband Jake. You never have, anyone could see that. Honestly, we're practically strangers at this point, the only thing keeping us together is Layla.”

You pause, trying to point out whatever emotion is flashing behind his eyes before continuing with a sigh, “Our marriage is a mere title, so dont be fucking shocked when it becomes clear as day to everyone else.”

“Y/n—“ he starts but you’re already leaning away. He doesn't stop you when you open the door, shutting it a little too hard behind you as you make your way into the building, the sole of your heels digging into your feet in a way that makes you want to throw them on the ground.

Jake slams his hand down against the steering wheel, running a hand through his hair, he turns off the car, locking it behind him before following you, because no way in hell is he ending the night like that. 

Your heart is racing when you shut the door behind you, all while resisting the urge to sink to the ground.

You take off your heels by the door, immediately removing the unnecessarily heavy jewelry from your neck and ears.

You hold your hand up to your chest, feeling the consistent beating of your heart. The familiar click of the door lets you know Jake just walked in. 

You stand up quickly, moving to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, acting as if it was another barrier between the two of you.

Without a thought you slip off the red silk from your body, letting it fall to the dark tiled ground. Walking into your side of the shower you turn on the water, letting it warm up enough till the steam is visible, you’re in need of anything to drown out how you're feeling right now, you step under it, letting the water fall into your hair, wetting your body, the steam clouds around you, almost creating a blanket in the open coolness of the bathroom.

You thread your fingers through your hair, letting the water seep into every bit of your scalp. The warm, dimmed light of the bathroom reflecting slightly off of the dark glossy tile wall before you. 

Jake tosses his keys on the marbled counter, swinging open the bedroom door, only to find it empty.

The faint sound of water falling onto tile seeping out from under the bathroom door has his attention immediately.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning against his knees.

God, he's going to regret this.

He stands up, taking off his tie with practiced ease, doing the same with his belt, untucking his white button up, and unbuttoning it halfway before opening the door to the bathroom, the fan does nothing to get rid of the steam filling the open space. The large glass wall is fogged up, he can almost see the outline of your silhouette if he squints. 

You don't see him, or hear him, the only sound filling your ears being the water hitting your skin and the tile beneath your feet.

You turn to the side slightly, eyes closed, he traces the curve of your breast, swallowing before unbuttoning the other half of his shirt and discarding the rest of the clothes on the ground beside your dress.

He lets out a breathless chuckle, looking down at his flushed dick practically standing on its own from how fucking hard he is. 

Jake steps in, turning on the shower head a few feet away from you, the new heat bringing a fresh cloud of steam to cover you.

He doesn't look at you as he steps under the water, letting it wet his hair. You watch him, a slightly stunned expression on your face “Jake–” The word comes out breathless, almost pathetic.

He chuckles low. “Y/n.” He glances in your direction, eyes staying on your face.

The awareness kicks in, that you're in the shower alone, with only a few feet of distance between the two of you. 

You can't help your eyes, you really tried, but they trail down his body, his toned form.

Fuck, hes definitely been working out.

Your eyes ultimately land on his cock, watching the way the water drips down his body. The wetness forming between your legs has nothing to do with the shower water falling on your body, and everything to do with him. 

He notices you looking, even with the barrier of steam between the two of you.

He doesn't bother turning off his shower head, closing the space between the two of you. His hand reaches out, not touching yet. Completely lost in the moment.

You let out a noise, it was supposed to be a word, maybe for him to stop?

No, it was definitely for him to keep going. When he speaks it comes out rough, uncontrolled, so  different from how he speaks to everyone else. “Strangers huh?” You don't meet his gaze. 

He brings his hand to your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes, his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, your mouth opening almost on command.

His cock jumps at the sight. The warm water soaks through your hair, the sensation of it forgotten with this new heat before you.

“Do strangers do this?” He brings his hand down, tracing your collar bone with his finger, you shudder at the touch. 

He smirks at the way you're body reacts to his featherlight touches.

You gasp when his finger circles around your nipple smoothly. “Fuck, these tits are perfect” He brings his other hand up, repeating the motion on the other side.

You shudder, letting out a breathless sound, your nipples hardening from his teasing touch. “You’re sensitive huh?” He chuckles down at you, nudging his cock against your stomach.

“Shut up..” You’re cut off when he gives both of your nipples a firm pinch. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?” He asks, voice low, only for you to hear even though you’re alone.

He brings one of his hands lower, just past your belly button, pausing for an answer. You shake your head, closing your eyes. 

“Come on mama, give me words.” He encourages sweetly even as his cock jumps at the sight of you before him like this.

“Not since you.” You whisper so low the sound of the shower water covers it. He shakes his head, inching down lower, cupping your soaking heat in the palm of his hand, you let out a moan, reaching both hands out, grabbing his veiny forearm to steady yourself.

He slowly rocks his palm against you. “Say that again.” He presses harder, reaching around to tilt your head back so he can really see. 

“I said, not since you.” He lets out a sound that you definitely aren't mistaking as a moan.

“Fuck–” He bites back his words, hand still cupping you, your juices leaking past his fingers, blending with the warm water pooling beneath you both.

“So this whole time..” He pauses, removing his hand from your heat, earning a whimper from you, "..you've had nothing but these.”

He lifts your right hand up, brushing over your middle and ring finger, the touch gentle. 

You nod, a slight blush creeping up your face, a part of you would feel a little embarrassed, maybe ashamed if not for the situation right now.

“Show me.” He urges, bring your hand down, he backs you up a few inches until your back is flushed against the cool tile walls, the warm water contrasting,

“You have to do it too then..” You look down at his cock, veins prominent, tip aching. He follows your gaze, smirking.

You two match each other's pace, you spread your legs ever so slightly, the best you can for standing up, rubbing small circles on your sensitive bud, the feeling even more exhilarating with him watching you so intently.

The little ‘ah’ sounds you’re letting out sending pulses straight to his dick. He brings his own hand down, swiping his thumb over the slit of his cock. Mouth hanging open as he wraps his hand around the base.

You feel yourself get even more wet at the sight, the desperate huffs he's letting out, his eyes don't know what to focus on, ultimately landing on your pussy when you push one of your small fingers in, the squelching noise so clear above everything else, he lets out a groan, a bead of pre cum leaking from his tip.

“Let me taste you” He breathes out, hand stopping your wrist. You freeze, looking up at him “Please..I- fuck, I need to.”

He brings your fingers up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick before sucking them clean, the sight alone draws a wrecked sound from you.

“Jake..” You whisper out, dragging your fingers out of his mouth, smearing them on his chin, he looks so pathetic like this.

He reaches beside you, turning down the pressure of the water before lowering himself to the ground, his eyes never leave yours.

He lifts one of your legs, pressing a light kiss on your inner thigh, trailing smaller kisses closer to where you need him most, he rests your leg on his bare shoulder, completely exposing you to him,

“You dont know how fucking bad ive wanted this y/n..” He whispers breath ghosting over your slick folds. “..how much I've craved this, even all those years ago.”

You bump your pussy against his face and he wastes no time licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, you arch against the cool tile wall, pressing yourself even more on his face, his hands travel up your body, cupping your ass in his hands, palming the soft flesh, bringing you impossibly closer.

He's completely lost in you, not letting a single drop of your arousal leak anywhere except in his mouth.

His nose nudges your clit every time he fucks his tounge into your hole, “Yeah.. fuck, f-feels so good..” You bring your hands up, lacing them in his wet hair.

He mumbles something back, the vibration making your hips jerk, he brings one of his hands down from your ass, sneaking it up to replace his tongue with two of his slender fingers, the new feeling so different from your own fingers.

He looks up at you, the way your head is thrown back against the cool wall, mouth hanging open, fuck you’re beautiful like this. 

He latches his lips onto your aching clit, flicking it with his tongue as his fingers work your tight hole.

You tug his hair harder, encouraging him without words, his fingers inside of you curl just right, hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, he sucks even harder on your clit, feeling your walls flutter around his fingers, greedily sucking them in.

A moan, almost a scream escapes from your lips as a fresh round of juices flood out of you, soaking the lower half of his face, he greedily drinks everything you let out, not letting a drop go to waste. 

He lowers your leg back on the ground, pressing a light kiss to your thigh before leaving wet ones up your body, kissing his way along your jaw, your cheeks, your lip–

He pauses when he feels your body tense against his. His lips less than an inch away from yours.

“Whats wrong–” He leans back slightly, eyes darting across your face “I..I cant” He tilts his head, hands still on your waist but a confused look washes over his face

"I'm not going to force you to do anything mama, but why?” He searches your eyes for an answer “Jake– we haven't even kissed since the wedding” 

“Y/n, you just let me eat you out, which to be fair I would do it a thousand times more, but a kiss is too much for you?”

You bring your hands up, burying your face in them “Fuck, I know okay? We were just caught up in the moment–” You don't see it, but he's looking at you with genuine sadness, not because you won't go any further, but because you’re not even comfortable enough to do so,

“Baby-” he starts, bringing his own hand up to pull yours from your face but you stop him, moving around, too ashamed to even look in his eyes.

“We can just forget this happened okay?” His hands fall to his sides, “But-”

“Please, I–I can't go through it again.” Your voice cracks, a pain sharpening in your chest.

He opens his mouth to speak but you turn before he can, grabbing a towel from the nicely folded pile, the water feels cold now, almost limp as he stares at the spot you were just standing in. 

He licks his lips, the faint taste of you still lingering.

He curses himself for acting on instinct, it was too fast and he knew it. But how couldn't he? You’re irresistible, the only constant desire in his life that never fades. So no, he's not just going to ‘forget this’.

He'd be stupid to.

-

You try to ignore Jake's eyes on you throughout the plane ride, focusing on anything except for him, whether it's Layla showing you something on her I pad, or Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker bickering over something useless.

It's best to just pretend like nothing happened, so treating him the exact same as you did before this trip is the best way to do that. 

You grab your bag from the overhead bin, helping Layla put her dolls in her small backpack, moving to get off his plane without a word, when he grabs your wrist.

“Sunghoon.” He says, eyes not leaving yours for a second. Sunghoon closes the distance, “Take Layla to y/ns car.” he nods before picking her up, Jake's other coworker follows after.

You turn fully to look at him, arms crossed over your chest in annoyance. “What?”

“I’m not forgetting what happened.” His eyes drop to your lips, making it known he's looking.

“Well I am.” you try to reply calmly, composed. But there's a slight tremble in your voice, one that he doesn't miss. Something washes over his face.

He straightens his shoulders “Okay.” Is all he says before brushing past you, leaving you in the middle of the wide aisle.

Him with the last word, one that you're trying to make sense of. Because there was so much more hidden underneath it, a part of you doesn't even want to know. 

You see Sunghoon crouching down to Layla's level, saying something that makes her giggle. He stands when he sees you, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“See you later Mrs. Sim.” You roll your eyes, opening the car door to help Layla get inside, closing it.

“Park.” You call out, Sunghoon stops, turning slightly with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Make sure he doesn't do anything reckless.” 

He lets out a low chuckle, looking at the ground before his focus is back on you. “I can try, but I can’t promise anything.” Is all he says before offering his infamous wink, hands tucked nonchalantly in his suit pant pockets, walking away.

-

Everyone has different ways of coping, sulking around could be one.

But that was never something Jake found relieving. So here he is, at some club with none other than Park Sunghoon.

“You’ve got this sexy dad look about you..” Some girl, who he doesn't even remember the name of says, fingers brushing over the collar of his shirt along the thin silver chain that clings to his skin. 

Jake's attention is brought back to her, she's a pretty girl, short black hair, but nothing she's saying is interesting to him.

She presses closer to him, purposely positioning her tits on his arm, teasing. She thinks she's being subtle but it's painfully obvious.

He looks over her shoulder, at the dance floor where Sunghoon has his hands on some blonde girl's waist as they practically dry hump each other.

He chuckles, the girl in front of him beaming proudly, thinking she's the one who made him laugh. 

“Do you wanna maybe..” The girl leans in close, standing on her tip toes to reach his ear, lips grazing “..get out of here?”

He looks down at her, boredom plastered on his face. “No.” Is all he says, the girl raises her brow, offended.

Jake takes another sip of his drink, not even sure what one he's on. She scoffs, stepping back from pressing against him

“What do you mean ‘no’?” She asks accusingly. “No, as in I don't want you.” He states in an obvious tone. 

Sunghoon curses under his breath whispering something into the ear of the woman he's dancing with before walking through the crowd effortlessly to get to him.

“Fucking—” She yells, a little too loudly, to the point where Sunghoon can hear it a few feet away, and heads are turning towards the scene.

Jake rolls his eyes, “Im not interested.” He shrugs, downing the rest of his drink, the girl straightens to say something else, but Sunghoon cuts in between the two.

“Alright, I think it's time for us to go!” He says a bit too energetically, hand resting on Jake's shoulder. The girl rolls her eyes “Your friends an asshole.” She mutters before walking away to go flirt with some other guy, Sunghoon turns, facing Jake completely now. 

“What?” Jake asks, like it's completely normal.

“Dude, you were the one who said you ‘needed some pussy to take your mind off things’ and when a chick practically throws herself at you, literally by the way, you reject it?”

Sunghoon looks Jake up and down like a mad man, "She's not her.” Jake mutters, voice low, as if you could hear him talking right now. 

Sunghoon chuckles, actually fucking chuckles at his state. “Oh I see, let me guess, you did some shit, right? Thought with your dick instead of your head?”

When he doesn't respond, Sunghoon laughs in his face. “I should’ve known, man.” 

“I fucked it up.” Jake groans, running his hand through his tousled hair, down his face, the slight stubble that he let grow a few weeks after the Italy trip scratching his hand roughly.

“You didnt fuck her right?” Sunghoon asks, an unfamiliar seriousness in his voice. “What– thats” “Okay thats answer enough.” 

“Maybe try actually sitting down, having a conversation?” Sunghoon suggests, trying his best with advice.

“She won't even look at me, and besides that she acts the same. But it fucking hurts.” Jake sighs, leaning against the bar counter.

Sunghoon watches him for a few seconds, making a ‘yikes’ face “Damn, you really got it bad huh?”

Jake pulls out his phone from his pocket, fingers finding their way to your contact, he clicks on the messages, the last thing in the chat being a photo of Him, Layla, and you eating Gelato in Italy together.

In the photo, someone might actually think he had the perfect family, beautiful wife, and daughter. If only they knew.

Jake types something, fumbling over the keyboard, Sunghoon looks down at the phone, eyes widening

“Absolutely fucking not.” He snatches the phone from Jake's hand earning a glare “I need to talk to her.” Jake says firmly.

“Not when you’re wasted like this” Sunghoon chuckles, tucking the phone in his own pocket. “Give me the fucking phone Hoon.” 

“No, because you’re literally going to kill me tomorrow for letting you text her.” Sunghoon backs up a step, Jake takes a step forward.

“Or I could now for not letting me text her.” Jake levels his gaze on him, “Alright fine” He says finally, pulling out the phone from his pocket

“Let me do something first though” Jake watches as he types something random on his phone, multiple times before realising “You fucking–” Jake snatches his phone back, 

iPhone Unavailable

Try again in 3 hours

“Whoops” Sunghoon shrugs, before his attention is pulled from the same blonde girl from earlier tapping his shoulder, Jake watches as his flirty persona immediately makes a comeback

“Bathrooms empty if you wanna..” Jake blocks out the rest of the words, signaling the bartender to come over “Do you guys have a phone I could borrow?” He asks, genuine curiosity in his tone, the younger man nods, handing him one from the counter.

Sunghoons eyes turn back to Jake for a split second to see him dialing your number “Fuck– fuck, no.” He snatches the phone from him, cursing before turning to the girl he was just talking to,

“Gimme a few minutes okay baby?” Sunghoon says to the girl, she blushes and nods, his attention goes back to Jake and the phone immediately.

“Hello?” You say confused, sitting up in bed, trying to see if you heard the words right.. Maybe someone accidentally called your number?

Sunghoon curses, glaring at Jake who shrugs with a cocky shit eating grin on his face. “Yeah, hey Y/n.” Sunghoon says, defeat evident in his voice. “Park?” You ask, now fully seated up in your bed.

You turn up the volume, the faint sound of music and chatter in the back, but the sound of him bickering with someone covers most of it, you only catch every other word–”Give me–the phone!” You sigh

“Park what's going on?” You hear him groan on the other end, and persumabley Jake say something along the lines of “Fuck you” 

“Sorry! Wrong number” Is all you hear before the line goes blank, you look down at your phone in confusion. 

“Yeah, we're leaving now.” Sunghoon says, turning to the blonde girl who was definitely about to be his fuck for the night.

She looks up at him, hope gleaming in her eyes, but frowns when he says he has to go. 

“You’re so fucking lucky to have me, I actually just saved your ass.” Sunghoon mutters, “Maybe I should just email her..” Jake contemplates, saying his thoughts out loud, tapping his screen to see there's 2 hours and 48 minutes left on his phone.

“Okay noted, take away the computer too.” Sunghoon shakes his head, chuckling.

-

Holy fuck. Is all you could think of when Jake answers his front door, grey sweatpants, and black fucking compression shirt out of all things on. Hair tousled, slick with sweat.

You should have known coming to drop off Layla in the morning wasn't a good move, especially since Sunghoon's car was also in the driveway. 

He chuckles at your reaction, like he knows something you don't. “Daddy!” Layla says, practically jumping into Jake's arms as if she wasn't falling asleep in the car a few minutes ago.

You tighten your grasp on her light pink backpack, Jake moves for you to step in, “You missed me Princess?” He asks in a gentle tone.

You walk to the open kitchen, but pause when you see Sunghoon, dressed in familiar attire to Jake, pouring what is probably a protein shake into two different cups. 

He doesn't look up to know it's you. “Hoon!” Layla wiggles out of Jake's arms, running over to Sunghoon who just laughs at her, “Mommy, can I have the mermaid doll please!” She asks, looking up at you with those adorable brown eyes, the ones that look just like Jakes.

You can't help the smile that lights up your face before getting them from her bag. She giggles before looking up at Sunghoon who sets down his shake.

“Well Miss. Layla, im ready when you are” He says, taking the doll from her and going to the living room where Jake has her toys set up. 

Jake lets a small laugh slip at the interaction. You bring your attention back to him, his eyes take in your clothes, from the business pants, to the blazer that fits you all too well.

“Okay, um– don't forget she has ballet lessons twice a week.” You bite your lip, trying to conceal how fucking nervous hes making you right now.

I mean, who even looks that good after the gym, gosh you shouldn't be thinking like this right now. Especially with everything–

“Y/n.”

“No.” You feel your heart racing as the word comes out, “I haven't even said–” He starts “Jake.”

“mama, please let me talk to you..” He closes the distance between the two of you, you try not to show a reaction at the name, the one he called you that night, the night you can't seem to forget.

You peak over his shoulder to see Sunghoon sitting on the ground with Layla, playing with the dolls. “Not here, not when she can hear.” You say quietly.

He nods, walking upstairs to his office, catching Sunghoon's eye, who just cocks a brow at him. 

“Okay, what's so important.” You shut the door behind you, watching as he leans over his desk, back to you.

He turns to face you, "I'm sorry for the other night, calling you like that was immature of me and as Layla's father I shouldn't have–” 

“Yeah, I know.” You interrupt, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I'm trying to apologize here y/n.” He sighs frustratingly, as if this is some chore or task he has to do.

“No, you’re trying to make yourself feel better.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, “You would think someone who was going to inherit a billion dollar company in the next year would know better, but no–” 

“Im fucking trying here okay?!” He lowers his voice, trying to avoid getting into an argument loud enough for Layla to hear, even though the room is already noise cancelling.

“Thats the same shit ive heard since I was 13 years old y/n, its fucking drilled in my mind.” He steps closer to you, towering over your frame.

“Everything, planned, laid out, my whole future already decided the second I came out the womb.—So yes, I'm aware of what I inherit, I'm aware of the responsibilities I have.” You open your mouth to speak, but close it when nothing comes out.

He continues, “I know I fucked up–” He pauses, resisting the urge to pull you in, cling to you, because as of right now, even if you hate him you’re still the only thing he sees as an anchor in his life. 

“—And not just the other night. In Italy, I shouldn't have, it was reckless and-”

“Jake.”

“-and stupid, you just- I couldn't resist you”

“Jake!” You cut through his words like a knife. The only sound in the room being your trembling voice, and his unsteady breath.

“Dont do this to me. Not right now.” You clench your fist to steady the way it shakes. “Y/n, please– you wont let me any other time besides when either one of us drops off Lay.”

“Because you’re her father Jake! That's all you are. It might say you’re my husband on paper, but you’re not. We dont owe eachother anything, and you made that very fucking clear 5 years ago.” You watch his eyebrows furrow in the way a lost puppy would, an almost pleading look in his eyes.

You bite your tongue, regretting the way the words came out. It takes everything in you to not crumble to the floor, right here in front of him. 

Something shifts in his eyes, he takes a step back from you, distancing himself as much as he can in the confined space.

He doesn't look at you as he turns his back to you, leaning against his desk.

“You know the way out.” He says over his shoulder, tone cold. “Jake..” you whisper

“You know the way out.” he repeats more firmly. You watch him for a moment, before turning and walking out. 

It takes everything in him to not take back his words, to beg you to come back for him to say sorry a thousand times if he has to.

-

That night, you still couldn't get the interaction out of your head, you don't know how many times you tossed and turned in your empty bed, the silence of the house unbearable.

Even throughout the week, it replayed. The look in his eyes, the shift in his face when he told you to get out. 

You know he works hard, you know he is a good father. And you definitely know what it's like to have your life laid out for you. 

So walking through the front doors of the company building wasn't exactly a part of the plan, but it's like your feet were carrying themselves.

The bright daylight shining through the completely glass walls, the city streets bustling outside as usual.

As you walked to the front desk, heads turned towards you, some whispering, some silently observing. 

“Mrs. Sim?” You hear a familiar voice say, walking towards you, You don't have to look to know who it is.

“Park.” You say, turning to face him, leaning against the front counter. “What a surprise.” He can't hide the smug grin on his face as he approaches you. “Im here to see Jake.”

“Oh, you mean you’re not actually here just to see the office?” His tone is laced with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.

“I was just heading up there, come on.” He chuckles, “But I need to inform Mr.Sim–” The woman at the front desk starts, “Greta, baby, It's the Bosses wife we're talking about here.” You roll your eyes, “Don’t give us a hard time m’kay?” he says sweetly, winking down at her. You watch as she blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

You follow after him, stepping into the elevator. “You’re actually disgusting." You cross your arms over your chest, glancing sideways at him.

“What? It's not my fault they can't resist my charm.” Sunghoon shrugs, adjusting his tie.

The elevator dings, signaling its reached the top floor, you look at him, but your eyes drop to the hint of color below the collar of his white button up.

Your brow raises, squinting to see the slightly red hue of it. “First door past the window.” He nods down the hallway, stepping out of the elevator. 

You watch him for a split second, but he pauses when you call after him “Park.”

He turns to look at you, humming in response “You got a little something.” You say, pointing to his collar, he looks down, and you notice his frame immediately still.

You offer one of those too sweet smiles before making your way down the hall. 

Your hand hovers over the door, before finally knocking. Jake assumes it's one of his assistants so naturally he says a steady “Come in.”, accent sharp and cutting through your train of thought.

You inhale once before opening the door. He doesn't look up until the door clicks shut behind you, and when he does, his face shifts. 

“Y/n– what are you doing here?” He doesn't know why he stands, but he does anyway, hands braced on his desk, you look around his big office, the dark brown leather couch, to the tall bookshelves, and the window with a perfect view of everything 50 stories below.

You try not to stare too much.

“Um- well I just wanted to make sure you knew about Layla's ballet recital in a few weeks, they just sent the email out so.. Yeah.” You cringe slightly at the words, and with how obvious you are. 

He raises a suspicious brow at you, “So you drove here, to the same building you haven't bothered visiting in 5 years, just to tell me something that was sent in my email.”

It's not a question. “Well- I.. you know,” He can't hide the small smirk that plays on his lips

“I–” You pause, trying to regain your composure. “I wanted to..apologize.” You watch his reaction, the curious tilt of his head.

“Apologize?” he rounds his desk, leaning against the front of it, arms still crossed over his chest, assessing you. 

“For the other day.. In your study.” You try not to cringe at the memory, “And for Italy.” Something flashes over his face

“Y/n–” he starts “No. Let me finish.” He shuts his mouth immediately and you continue.

“I said some hurtful things that night, In the..shower.” You avoid his gaze “It was wrong for me to use you like that.” His tongue runs over his lips, remembering the taste of you that night. 

“And then in your study, when you tried apologizing to me– I didn't mean to go off on you like that, and I know you’re trying, I know the pressure you feel, and with everything you said about your life being planned–”

He's watching you closely as you speak, not interrupting. “But God, Its so fucking hard to forget Jake. I try so hard, for Layla—You look at her with so much love. And then you look at me, like I'm a– task.. A chore?”

You question your choice of words. “And it hurts so fucking much.” You breath out, the words rough and vulnerable.

You blink back the tears threatening to pour out, his hands fall to his sides, and it's like his body moves before his mind can process it. 

He closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you towards him , one hand wrapping around your back, the other cradling your head against his chest, resting on the top of your head.

“Jake..” You say through a trembling breath, hands clawed at his chest. “Shh mama, I got you.” he whispers, his thumb rubbing small circles on your back.

He pulls back, "I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to hurt you–I.. Fuck” He runs his hand through his hair, taking a step back to breath.

“You cloud every thought in my mind y/n. Every single day, every single hour, I can't stay mad at you for the life of me. Im—Im really not good at this..” he looks down at you, biting his lip nervously

“I don't think you understand how bad I regret how I treated you, How I made you feel.” He steps closer again, “I was– no I am an asshole. God, you have every right to hate me.” He chuckles but it's humorless

“Jake.. I don't hate you..” He meets your eyes at that, looking at you, really looking at you, the shared vulnerability between you two right now in this moment. 

Your hand moves from your side, hesitating before cupping his face in your hand, he leans into the touch immediately, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

“I can't get you out of my head y/n.” He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to your palm, a small gasp leaving your lips at the intimacy of it.

“Im sorry, I know we have a lot to work on—but please..” He whispers, holding your hand in his, moving it to press a kiss to your wrist, just above your pulse point, feeling how rapidly your heart beats.

His eyes don't leave yours. “I'm sorry..” He whispers again, lower this time, trailing small kissing along your arm, those same words leaving his lips in between.

His other hand slips to your waist again, pulling you closer, He cups your face in his hand, threading his fingers through the back of your hair, shutting his eyes, leaning against your forehead.

“Im so fucking sorry.” he breathes out, ghosting over your lips, you tilt your head up slightly, letting your lips graze over his. “Baby..” 

You close the distance between your mouths, lips pressed firmly against his, he pulls you closer, running his fingers through your hair more deeply, his other hand gripping your waist as if you were the only thing grounding him, your lips move together in a rhythm, his tongue runs along your bottom lip, begging for more access, you grant it and he groans into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing.

His tongue explores your mouth, tasting you. He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, “Please..” He begs, looking between both of your eyes, an almost pathetic look on his face.

You tilt your head “Please forgive me, y/n” He brings his hand down from out of your hair, gently rubbing small circles on your neck, tracing his thumb over your exposed collar bone, the touch electric. “I–” 

A sharp knock on the door has you two pulling away from each other like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't.

“Mr. Sim, I just wanted to inform you we have an online meeting with Park Jongseong in five minutes” A shy voice says from the other side, he watches you, the way you stare at your feet, he tries not to smile at your clear nervousness.

“Have the notes ready, let them know I'm coming.” He says, voice back to that professional tone. 

He leans down one more time, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before opening the door to his office and walking down the hall to the meeting room.

Once the door shuts behind him, you bring your hand to your heart, the rapid beating of it pounding against your palm.

You trace your lips with your fingers, still trying to process what just happened, and what's going to happen..

Jake turns the corner of the hallway, to see Sunghoon, leaning against the wall, his eyes trace over Jake's form.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sunghoon says through a knowing smirk, “Dont.” Jake replies, straightening his tie and walking into the meeting room. Sunghoon raises his hands innocently, following after. 

-

As soon as Jake got out of that meeting the first thing he did was pull out his phone, shutting his office door behind him, but pausing to inhale the faint smell of you, your sweet, sweet perfume and hair wash lingering in the air.

“Jaeyun?” His mother says into the phone curiously, “An important event came up, do you mind watching over Layla tonight?” He asks, knowing exactly what the answer will be, if anything he's surprised she didn't beg him to let Layla come over. His parents even have a room specifically for her on the rare occasion she go to their manor. “Yes!” she says eagerly, Jake chuckles, “Alright, I'll drop her off in a few.” He says briefly before hanging up. 

The feeling of his lips still lingered on yours even hours later. The memory of them causing a warm feeling to pool in your belly.

You tried to distract yourself, you really did. But not even working could make you focus. Slipping on your soft robe, you shuffle around your house, eager to take a bath, maybe that would help ease the consistent throbbing in between your legs. 

You were just about to untie it when a ring on your doorbell took you by surprise, you checked the time on your phone, 8:23.. 

You make your way downstairs, opening the door, freezing. “What are you..” You swallow, “What are you doing here?” a nervous excitement slipping through your tone.

Jake takes a step forward, eyes not leaving yours as he shuts the door behind him. “Where's Layla?”

“With my parents.” he replies, eyes trailing down your frame shamelessly, taking in the way your thin robe does nothing to conceal whats underneath. His tongue darts out for a split second, wetting his lips. 

Your eyes fall to his attire, wearing the same dress pants he had on earlier, blazer gone, white button up rolled up his forearms. He chuckles at the way your eyes drag along his arms, bringing your attention back to his face.

“You still didn't answer me.” He tilts his head, studying you. “What are you doing here?” He takes another step forward, crowding you in the entrance of your home.

“You think after what happened today, I was going to just leave you alone?” His eyes drop to your lips. 

“Well– I mean.. I didn't know you were going to just show up..” His eyes fall to the way you nervously play with the end of your robe.

“Mama, of course I did.” he brings his hand down over yours, stilling it so you could stop fidgeting.

“I wanted to see you.” He says confidently. He sighs, defeated, even though you haven't even said anything back. “wanted to touch you.”

His hand comes up, brushing his thumb softly along your cheek, you lean into it. “I want you–” He pauses, breathes–“I want you so bad.”

His eyes search yours before continuing “So bad that I can't fucking concentrate anymore, I can't think straight—“

“The idea of you not wanting me back–not loving me back, makes me sick.” You both freeze at the words, he opens his mouth to speak, closes it.

“I- fuck..” He pulls his hand away from your face, you stop it, placing yours above his. “I want you too, Jake.. I– I love you.” The second the words leave your mouth, something shifts in his face.

His other hand comes up to the other side of your face, holding you like you’re something precious.

“You don't know how long I've wanted- No, I've needed to hear that.” He tilts his head down, lips ghosting over yours, your lips part instantly

“I love you baby.” He whispers before pressing his lips to yours. 

You immediately melt into the kiss, giving him access to your mouth, his hand cups the back of your neck, holding you closer.

He kicks off his shoes, lips never leaving yours, you wrap your arms around his neck as he guides you backwards, you stumble back slightly, his hand immediately wrapping around your waist, you giggle against his mouth, earning a laugh from him. 

You gasp as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his hands splayed on your ass. He makes his way up the stairs with you, carrying you with ease.

His lips crash against yours again, backing you up against the wall, you roll your hips in his hold, grinding against his hardening bulge in his pants.

“Fuck ma—you’re killing me..” He breathes, biting your bottom lip, a whimper escaping your lips at that.

“If I wasnt such a gentlemen, I’d fuck you right here, on your floor.” The dirty words have you grinding harder against him, he chuckles

“You’d like that huh?” You nod, a little bit too frantically, instead he walks further down the hall, in your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him, laying you down on the bed.

“No, I wanna take my time with you.” He presses a light kiss to your lips, savoring your taste. “Jake–please..” It comes out breathless. 

“Please what?” he teases, hand coming up to wrap around your throat, not to hurt you, more to claim.

He trails it back down, to the loosely tied knot of your robe. “Want you to fuck me..” You plead, squirming.

He smiles at that, pulling the string of your robe, causing it to fall open limply, he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of you, laid out for him like this, like his next fucking meal.

He peels it off your body, tossing it to the ground, leaving you bare. “So needy, hm?” He parts your legs, nearly groaning at the sight and smell of your slick pussy.

You whimper at the cold air nipping your skin. He brings his hand down, cupping your breast in his hand, kneading the soft flesh

“I love these tits so fucking much” He says almost to himself, rolling your nipple between his fingers, his other hand comes up, repeating the motion on your other, making sure no part of your body feels neglected.

He bites his lip at the delicious sounds leaving your lips, the pathetic light moans. 

You expect him to undress next, but instead he kneels down, hitting the soft carpet, right between your spread legs, you prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a single moment of seeing him like this.

His eyes close, like he's already gone, licking a sensitive spot on your inner thigh, sucking on it gently, making sure to leave a mark.

Your mouth hangs open, letting soft moans leave your lips, he can't help the smirk that covers his face at how you’re not being shy with him.

He takes his time, leaving marks on your inner thigh, teasing you even more, while also making you even more wet.

His eyes lock on your glistening cunt, “This all for me?” He chuckles, earning a groan from  you, he blows on your puffy clit, enjoying how your hole clenches around nothing, the way you’re already throbbing.

You whine at his teasing, “Shh mama, wanna make you feel good.” He uses his hands, pushing your thighs farther apart, giving him even more access.

Your eyes roll at the first lick, sensual, gathering your juices on his tongue, his eyes flutter shut at the taste of you, how fucking natural it is.

One second its slow licks, the next he's diving in, devouring you. His nose bumping your clit as his tounge works your hole, he looks up at you, your absolutely fucked out face before focusing back on your pussy. Your juices coating the bottom half of his face.

He brings his attention back to your clit, taking the sensitive bud between his lips and sucking with such precision it has your back arching off the bed, hands flying to his hair.

He groans at the feeling of you tugging on the strands, sending a vibration straight to your core. He flicks his tongue on your clit, rolling the sensitive bud with the wet muscle.

bringing one of his hands down from your leg, watching how your pussy reacts as he rubs small circles on your clit.

You watch as he gathers some spit in his mouth, spitting right on your aching clit.

“So pretty,” He says quietly, mixing the spit with your juices leaking out, He pulls you even closer, hands tightening around your thighs, mouth closing around your pussy, making out with it messily.

“Fuck..Jake–” You cry out, gripping the sheets at your sides, He looks up, watching the way your breasts move with each movement, making his cock throb in his pants even more. 

He gives your hole a teasing lick, before plunging his tounge in, greedily fucking it in and out of you, he feels you clench around him. Burying his nose closer against your clit, applying the right pressure that has your hips bucking as you come on his face, you bite down on your lip, trying to conceal the moans leaving your mouth.

He greedily laps up everything you let out, your slick coats his chin, his mouth, the sheets beneath you, but he loves every second of it. 

Your legs fall spread limply, he stands up, unbuttoning his shirt, and his pants, discarding his clothes like they're useless, which in this case–they are.

His eyes are trained on the reddish purple marks coating your inner thighs. “Jake..” You breathe out, watching the thin silver chain glint under the dim light.

He pauses, looking at you curiously, “You still have it?” you point to your neck, and his fingers touch the chain, “I never took it off baby.”

Your mind goes back to when you gave him that necklace, it was when you were pregnant, and you felt like you had to get him something for helping you out so much, even with the arrangement. He had told you he didn't need anything, but you insisted.

He shifts and your attention is immediately back on the present. 

You watch him slide off his boxers, his cock springing out, hanging heavy, thick, veins prominent, similar to the ones coating his hands and forearms.

You let out a sound as your eyes lock on the bead of pre cum leaking out of his flushed pink tip. He leans down, lifting your hips to move you farther up the bed before climbing on top of you.

He strokes his cock, one, twice, the pre cum leaking down his length, Your hips buck up, chasing any form of friction you can.

“Hm, you’re so cute when you’re all needy.” He chuckles, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip, smearing his precum.

“Jake.” You meant for it to come out more firm, but it comes out with a whimper to it. “You want me to stuff you full mama?” He coons, tone playful.

He slaps his dick down once on your puffy folds, before guiding his tip to your entrance. He barely pushes the head of his cock in before letting out a choked groan, “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts, hands clasping around your hips, anchoring him. 

“Breathe for me yeah?” He looks at your face, eyes leaving the delicious sight of you trying to adjust to his size.

You nod, attempting to ease yourself, he slides in some more, your pussy clamping around him tightly, he hisses at the feeling, so warm and wet.

“Loosen up for me mama..” He breathes out, thumb traveling down to apply pressure to your clit, he pushes in slowly, you moan when he bottoms out, his tip nudging that spongey spot inside you. 

It takes everything in him to not come right now, like some fucking teenager.

“Fuck– you’re squeezing me–” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw, before sliding out halfway, setting a slow pace that has his balls tightening.

His lips hover over yours as you both let out pleasureful sounds, “F-faster jake..” You manage to say,

“Knew you were greedy” He smirks, before you can say anything back he crashes his lips onto yours, rolling his hips, thrusting in and out of you, his balls slapping against you at every thrust, the wet sounds filling the room are filthy. 

Your tounges tangle together as he fucks into you, hitting a spot you could never reach with your own fingers.

His other hand comes up to pinch your nipple, earning a shocked gasp from you, You clench around him, hole fluttering, greedily taking his cock, he presses harder on your clit, pinches your nipple, you thrash against him, moaning into his mouth as you reach your second orgasm of the night.

But he doesn't stop, instead he wraps his hand around you pulling you up so you're sitting on his dick facing him, he cups your ass in his hands, grinding you on him, you're pulsing around him, your nerves on fire with every drag of your clit against him.

You’re both slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, he's lost in the feeling of your pussy dragging on him, “You gonna let me fill you up mama?”

He grips your ass harder, delivering a smack, you let out a high pitched sound at that, “God, you would look so pretty–”

He lays you back down on your back, the vision already clear in his mind, you–belly swollen, carrying another one of his children, breasts full, so sensitive– He'd take such good care of you, giving you everything you deserve and more.

“Can I breed this pretty pussy mama? stuff you full?” He fucks into you deeper, your legs lock around him in response, He lets out a sound almost a whimper, arms wrapping around you in a bear hug as his hips move frantically in and out of you, he can feel the pressure building, and by the way you’re fluttering around him again, he knows you’re close too.

“I love you baby– fuck, I love you so much..” He groans into the crook of your neck, your hands claw at his back, grasping on his hair as he buries himself deep inside you, your pussy clamps tight, eyes rolling back as your juices leak out, his cum shoots into you, the warmness pooling in a way that has your legs shaking, He doesn't pull out all the way, but he fucks into you once more, hard, making sure none of his seed leaves your sweet hole. 

You two stay like that, him inside you, hugging you with so much love it makes your heart flutter.

When he pulls out, he falls to your side, pulling you closely to him. You wrap your leg over his hip, and he nuzzles his face in between your breasts, causing a soft laugh to leave your lips.

“I love that sound,” he murmurs, “Hm?” You ask curiously, He lifts his head looking at you with so much adoration “Your laugh.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck before wrapping his hands around your body, embracing you, savoring this moment, because if he could, he'd stay here forever. 

— Bonus —

Jake is half asleep below you, one hand draped on your belly, your 6 month old baby growing healthily inside of you.

You try not to wince at the fabric of your shirt rubbing against your very sore nipples, but you fail miserably.

“Mmm..” He mumbles, feeling your body tense beside him, he opens his eyes slowly, looking up at you.

Worry flashes across his face at your pained state, he sits up immediately, "What's wrong? Are you okay mama?” His hand cups the side of your face, pressing his wrist to your forehead, checking your temperature

“Tell me what you need? Water?” His eyebrows furrow together, he runs a hand through his hair, his body flexing at the movement, you can't help your eyes from dragging down his frame, his bare chest, and his loose hanging sweatpants with no boxers underneath. 

You tug at your shirt, “They hurt Jake–” You breath out, realisation flashes across his face, his eyes falling to your pebbled nipples poking through your shirt.

“Ah..I see,” He swallows, before moving to lift your shirt over your head, the fabric dragging along your breasts making you wince.

He tosses the shirt on the bed, memorized with how full your breasts are, how hard your nipples get, he cant help himself when his hands come up, weighing them.

“Fuck–you’re so beautiful,” His fingers graze over your nipples, making the already damp spot in your panties grow, You whimper at the touch “So sensitive baby..” He dips his head, tongue grazing lightly over the peak.

You let out a sharp moan at the feeling, the pleasure overtaking you. He watches your face, his tongue flicking over the bud before lifting his fingers, he presses them on your lip, your mouth opening on instinct, you wrap your lips around his fingers, wetting them, he pulls them out, circling your other nipple with them, spreading your saliva on it.

“So warm, and soft..” He massages one with his hand, it helps ease the tension, making your body relax more into his touch, he presses his nose against your breast gently, your warm skin making the bulge in his sweatpants strain even more.

His hand inches down, past your belly, dipping between your spread thighs, His mouth freezes over your nipple at the wetness already soaked through your loose shorts.

“Shit, you’re dripping–” He moves the shorts to the side along with your underwear, dragging two fingers through your wetness, making a soft gasp leave your lips

“M’ gonna make you feel good” He whispers, before both of his fingers slip inside of you, curling immediately.

The sounds coming from between your legs are so lewd, wet squelching every time he takes his fingers out, just to shove them back in, his palm grinding against your swollen clit as he hits that spongey spot deep inside you.

“Jake–ah..” You breath out, hands lifting to grasp his veiny arm, it's all so sudden, the way you clamp down on his fingers, the juices that flood out of your pussy soaking the sheets, He drags his fingers out, rubbing your sensitive clit with the two, spreading your slick all over.

“God– you’re pretty when you come on my fingers like that..” He brings the two digits to his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes not leaving yours, your mouth hangs open as he does so.

He glances down at your lips, plump from the biting you’ve been doing, before closing the distance, letting you taste your musky sweetness on his tongue that he loves so much.

You don't register it, but his hand inches back down your body, rubbing your pussy slowly, before he shoves three digits inside of you, your nails dig into his forearm at the stretch, gasping into his mouth

“Oh my gosh–” You moan out, his fingers repeating the curling motion, “Shh.. let me make you feel good.” He whispers, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you just right, his tongue flicks just under your ear, spiking your sensitivity even more.

A warm gush of liquid coats his hand, your eyes flutter shut as you squirt on his fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you even more.

He curls his fingers deeper, letting as much as he can seep out, the wetness coating your inner thighs gradually. He kisses your lips once more, before pulling his fingers out slowly, admiring the way they shine under the faint morning sunlight. His palm slaps against your sensitive pussy lightly in a teasing manner.

"I'm going to get the bath ready, we still have some time before I take Lay to school.” he kisses your cheek softly, standing up, bulge evidently clear in his sweatpants. “But what about–”

“Mama, I said to let me make you feel good, we can worry about this later, Okay?” He walks around the bed, opening the door to your shared bathroom.

Jake insisted on you relaxing in the bath, while he gently rubbed your skin with your vanilla soap, but you had other plans, sneakily reaching behind you to stroke his aching cock until the only thing he could focus on was how good your hand felt around him while moaning softly into your neck.

After the bath he helped you get dressed, helped you down the stairs, making sure to set up the pillows so you were well supported before waking Layla up.

Once she was all dressed for school, her 2nd week of being a Kindergartner, she came running up to you, careful to not press against your baby bump.

“Mommy!” She smiles, you look at Jake's attempt of pigtails before chuckling, Layla reaches her small hand out, touching your stomach gently, as if she was petting a small puppy.

“You look pretty Lay,” She giggles, Jake walks back over,  bowl of strawberries in hand with nutella drizzled on top, a craving he knows you love.

He presses a light kiss to your forehead before handing Layla her sparkly pink backpack. “Ready princess?” He asks, looking down at Layla, she nods, skipping past him, you and Jake both laugh at her eagerness. 

“Ill be back in a bit” he says, pressing another kiss, this time to your covered baby bump, you can't help the blush that coats your face as he gives you that boyish smile.

Even when they both leave, shutting the door behind him, the warmness stays in your heart, Because this is even better than your dreams. 

-

Yeah so I need Jake asap.

okay hope you guys enjoyed!

peep the Sunghoon plot building.. (hoping to start writing it soon after i finish some of my other wips👀)

taglist: @yufawnz @saeivra @rianzysworld @ilobhee @lessamee @isa942572 @only4mylove @lecfosicentral @vanash @chyssly @luucortis @reneleaily @jazeertt @motherscrustytoenailclippings @easyhyunho @woninlove @starry-eyed-bimbo @kitkat1sstuff @abysofsteel @softblaqn @sweetxpeach1 @enhaholicfan @guliexe @heeheehee-hoe @hearts4julie @tzyusyaoon @dollhoonie @angeliykyk @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @ellieaybby @gownluvr @ellielovesikeu @heeverseblog @3nhyxx @supahintohoon @cloud-lyy @pqrkjyx @v3lv3t-th1rst @fancypeacepersona @ily4hoonity @saamaoaiwyq @angelcakesunoo @hoonki1009 @enhypenglazer1234 @xoxoamadeo @irisvrse @cutehoons02 @maeviees @bbunnii @lawjakesim

[slutbuuni]

this whole situation just made me realize how picky kpop fans truly are. yall want to seem morally better for protesting against heeseung leaving but where were your hindparts when we were supposed to be protesting against them clearly being overworked and mistreated? (which is still happening and I’ve seen not one engene make any move against it)

where was this fight when jay was forced to perform for MONTHS on an injured knee until it got too bad? when riki was talking about barely being able to see his family and joking on the fact that he barely gets rest because of their fuck ass schedule?? (and mind you, riki JUST TURNED TWENTY!! I’m turning twenty in may and let me tell yall, I KNOW he’s going through it because IM going through it and I don’t have to deal with half the shit he gets thrown at him on daily basis.)

these idols are MISERABLE, and they sit in your faces with a fat ass smile, making you feel like everything is okay when they probably cry themselves to sleep at night. you sit on the internet and pretend you care, but you doooooon’t. I cry almost everyday thinking about the fucked ass life they have to live just to fulfill their dreams, when not one western celebrity has it as bad as them, so I know they don’t need the misfortune to get big.

Yall are so worried about bringing heeseung back, not even realizing that it’s doing more harm than good. people are literally ignoring the rest of the members just to protest!! people are considering BOYCOTTING enhypen and heeseung!! that’s not what we need! they need the most support right now, they don’t need you to bring them back together because the company has made it ABUNDANTLY clear they’re not bringing heeseung back.

we need to suck it up and move on atp because it’s getting embarrassing. the best we can do is support heeseung as he continues is solo career, support enhypen as they continue as six, AND PROTEST FOR THEM TO GET A FUCKING BREAK, TO BE ABLE TO SEE THEIR FAMILIES, FOR SOME FORM OF FREEDOM IN THEIR CAREERS.

and another thing: you bitches have a lot of nerve to be online protesting for this shit and not for the millions of colored and queer people being targeted and killed right now. protesting against kpop companies doesn’t make you a good person, it makes you the weakest link. I’ve been doing this shit since my people were being killed (and still are!!) in their own homes, since ICE has been taking my people off the streets and raping or murdering them.

if you can speak out against the kpop industry, you can speak out against every corrupt government, company, etc that’s been killing us and the earth since the dawn of damn time. everyone needs to get real political TODAY.

[sxno0]

DESIRE : UNLEASH - N.RK

Headcannons : Popularboy!Niki x Weirdo!Reader

(this trope is so underrated!) PT2!! (FIRST WRITY THING IVE EVERMADE!!) very rushed sorry, sorry for typos!

Part 1

Part 2

MDNI : Smut, p in v, unprotected sex (NONO!), rough sex, meandom!niki, sub!reader, hair pulling, restraints (tie), choking and gagging, degrading, praise, dacryphillia, BIG DICK NIKI, overstimulation, Niki is KINKY, readers a virgin, squirting, hickey, slapping on face, spanking, reader cries a lot, mating press and doggy, dry humping.

Popularboy!Niki who finally gives into your desires.

It was 3pm, the nurse wasn’t coming back until 5pm since she was looking at the boy Niki beat up, plenty of time to fuck you dumb.

You straddled riki’s waist, one of his hands on your ass and the other on your waist, gripping tight enough to leave marks.

You whined softly, grinding against the clothed buldge thats been pressing on your covered cunt, desperate to feel more,

“N-Niki!” You whined softly

“Shh..” He whispered, “Do you want anyone hearing what a dirty slut you are?”

You shook your head vigorously and felt his nose rub against your neck, his tongue sticking out softly to make a trail of saliva down the side of the neck, making his way to your collarbone, sucking and kissing desperately : a circle coloured faint purple red appearing on it.

He unbuckled his belt,

“Stay still, love.”

Now he has got you in a mating press on the bed in the nurses office, pressing down  as much as he can. He’s been pounding you like this for at least 1 minute now, his thick cock covered with Saliva as lubricant with a hint of blood from popping your cherry.

He starts pounding your pussy faster, sliding right out until the tip is about to come out ; then slamming right back in and grinding against your cervix, triggering you to convulse as if you were having a seizure. He gets faster and faster while saying dirty words to you, 

“Fuck fuck fuck, You’re so good for me aren’t you y/n?”

 Your eyes were rolled back ; which got him slightly annoyed, 

“Look at me you dirty bitch.” 

He slapped your face roughly, a red mark being left behind, imprinting your face with the mark - your tears came out as he started to slap your ass aggressively, his thrusts becoming aggressive too.

Your orgasm hits you hard. Your vision goes white and you stick out your tongue and let tears drift down your cheeks, legs shaking, shivering, whimpering and moaning his name over and over again, ingrained in your brain like a mantra while he continued to pound you harder through it, until he came in you.

He lifted you up, putting u on ur hands and knees and arching your back, one hand blacked in it and the other holding ur neck.

He inserted his already hard cock again with a groan, thrusting rough already. One hand moved to your overstimulated throbbing clit to rub 8’s on it, causing you to squirm.

Your squirming made him take off his tie, tying up your hands together while he choked and gagged u with his fingers,

“F-fuck! S-stop, too..much!” You whimpered loudly.

He grinned like a dumbass and cooed in your ear,” Is poor baby overstimulated to does poor baby want my cum?”

He rolled his eyes when you never answered, ragging your hair back, making you cry more, “Don’t you want my cum?”

You nodded frantically, “Yess..!”

He groaned loudly and emptied his load in you - Your overstimulation was too much and you squirted all over him, he smirked and licked it from your stomach, 

“Enjoyed your first time?” He pulled out and started putting his clothes back on.

“Piss off.”

Tags : @endukki @honybite @wonscrchy @v-irtujake might have typos, not the best either since im new to this stuff

[velvetidyllic]

The Petition l Heeseung l 19.03.2026

This will be the last time I post about heeseung leaving enhypen and the chaos that it caused. To be clear I have not changed my mind, nobody has managed to change my views and I doubt I changed anyone else's view, it's too late for anyone to prove proof. I found out that the petition has reached its goal, two million signatures. It's impressive, I'll give engenes that much. I am unsure on whether it has officially been submitted. But anyway, my post isn't about congratulating anyone, arguing with anyone or anything like that. I just wanted to make something clear with all the engenes who participated in the petition and boycott.

I hope you're right, I genuinely mean that. I hope that all the reasons you had for going ahead with the petition and boycott were true. For your sake it better be true, because if it comes out that heeseung will be returning to the group and going solo, I will hold all two million of you personally responsible for any stress, any anxiety, any overwork that this man goes through. It won't be belift's fault, it will be yours because this was what you wanted, this is what you demanded for. None of you will have the right to complain or whine, or hashtag, or petition, or boycott any faults that may come from heeseung rejoining the group. If there is any doubt, any regret, any "oh maybe this wasn't the right decision", or "maybe this isn't what he wanted", I better not hear a single word out of you. Regardless of how this situation turns out I will lose nothing, either way the idols I care about will succeed. If there is even the tiniest, most minuscule chance of me being right, I will never look at engenes the same.

I hope you get your wish engenes, so don't you dare complain if this wish ends up looking more exhausted everyday. You'll only have yourselves to blame.

[kikidoul-deactivated20260312]

INHERITED TEMPTATION.

You walked away from Riki when desire began to demand more than what your detachment could give. What started as nights without names ended the moment feelings threatened to surface—and you chose distance, safety over fire.

Months later, you fell into something entirely different. Gentle, steady and safe. Your boyfriend loves you with an honesty that felt like redemption, a future untainted by secrets or shame. For the time time, you belived you've escaped from your past.

Until you met his father.

Riki is older now, sharper at the edges, his gaze still carrying the same quiet hunger that once unraveled you. It's up to you to choose between his son or his father, where the most dangerous love is the one that should never be rekindled, and the hardest sin is wanting what was never meant to return.

word count: 23.5k

CONTENT: dark romance+forbidden trope, father! riki, age-gap relationship (reader's 25 and riki's 43), reader and riki are morally gray characters here, reader's engaged to his son, emotional manipulation, cheating, explicit smut, unprotected sex, babytrapping, faint degrading, daddy kink if you squint, recording during sex, blowjob, pussy eating+fingering, blackmail(?), public humiliation and open ending.

NOTE: finally finished this fic and im free. i would like to thank my family and friends for giving me the motivation to finish this fic and also shoutout to my fellow moots for letting me rant and crash out as we sprint together. this is by far the nastiest fic i've written in my life, but uh, i kinda like this. enjoy! don't like? dont read. hate comments will be blocked.

You were living your ideal, dream life to the fullest.

Being engaged to your fiance—Doohwa, who you met at one of your work events, working at a full-time job so you can have enough funds for your upcoming wedding.

The basics had already been planned and discussed. It will be happening five months from now. Five months where you will officially and finally belonged to the man of your dreams.

You remembered telling your family and relatives. All of them had the same reaction—rendered speechless, staring at their screens as you showed off the engagement ring that was proudly wrapped around your ring finger.

Some of your relatives were so overjoyed that they started crying on-call, much to you and Doohwa's embarrassment.

Currently, you were in the living room of your shared apartment with Doohwa. According to him, his father had returned home after spending the past four weeks flying from one country to another and Doohwa wanted to take this chance to introduce you to his father, to build a closer connection and relationship.

You had never met him before back when you were dating. According to your fiance, his father was a busy man—with his career being a freelance architecture.

You don't know much about that specific industry but what you do know was how the man was highly regarded and respected, due to his talents.

You had finished getting dressed and was now waiting for him to come and pick you up after he was done with work.

As time passed, your eyelids gradually felt heavier. Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep on the couch…

EIGHT MONTHS AGO…

You had finished your final examination and as per the standard culture you and your small group of friends shared—it was time to party. After all, you didn't spent the past two to three weeks cramming, inhaling energy drinks and further ruining your already ruined sleep cycle for nothing.

As much as you loved partying like your life depended on it, you wanted to get good grades so you can graduate without regrets.

You were the first to arrive at your usual place—a bar called Hidden Eve that's located on a few streets away from your campus. It's a cozy place with the drinks both being good and are at an affordable prices, especially in today's society.

You stood outside, hugging your thick coat around you, shivering involuntarily when a strong gust of cold, chilling wind blew past you. Winter wasn't even here yet but you were already bundled up like a walking rice-ball.

Thankfully, you didn't have to wait long as your friends had arrived. One of them laughed when they saw how red your nose had became.

"Looks like Rudolph the Reindeer has some competition," she teased, causing the whole group except for you to burst out laughing.

You light-heatedly rolled your eyes, knowing they were merely joking. "Haha. Very funny. Now let's go in and drink before i can't feel my hands and legs anymore."

With that, all of you entered the bar. The small bell hanging on top of the door made a 'ding ding!' sound as it was pushed open.

Warm amber lights glowed from vintage sconces along the brick walls, casting the space in a soft, honeyed haze. Low wooden beams crossed the ceiling, darkened with age while trailing ivy and dried floral curled lazily around iron fixtures.

The bar counter stretched along the left side, polished oak worn smooth by years of elbow and spilled confessions, its shelves covered with glass bottles that shimmered like jewels under the dim lights.

For once, the place was crowded.

Voices overlapped in a constant hum—laughter, murmured conversations and the occasional clink of glasses with customers toasting to something. Every seat seemed to be occupied, bodies packed close together and strangers brushed shoulders without apology.

The air smelled faintly of citrus, alcohol and something smoky beneath it all, grounding and intoxicating.

Jazz music played low and steady from hidden speakers, a slow, sultry rhythm that seeped into your bones rather than demanding for attention. It made the bar feel alive, pulsing, as though it was breathing along with the people inside it.

To you and your friends, this was home.

You followed them as they moved to the counter on the right with ease while chatting and laughing with one another. Thankfully, there were some space enough for the four of you to squeeze in together.

You weren't listening to what your friends were talking, absentmindedly nodding your head here and there as your eyes aimlessly drifted, scanning the sea of faces around you.

And that's when you saw him.

You knew he's a staff, with how he came out from the back door and was dressed in black from head to toe, the kind of uniform meant to blend in and go unnoticed.

It failed for him.

The fitted black shirt clung lightly to his frame, sleeves rolled just enough to expose his forearms as he adjusted the cuff with practiced ease. A slim apron was tied around his waist, hanging low against dark jeans that perfectly further accentuated his long legs. You swore from a look far, his legs would make up half of his height.

He wore accessories—a simple double pair of rings hanging on his earlobes and his hands were decorated in silver, glowing rings. It glimmered like jewels underneath the dim lights, drawing attention to his long and slender fingers. His midnight-black hair was slightly damp, as if he had just washed it, stray strands falling carelessly over his forehead. He pushed them back once, distracted, before reaching for the towel draped on his shoulder.

You pretended you didn't choked on air when you saw him running his hand through his hair, unable to tear your eyes away from him as you watched. You weren't sure why but there was something mesmerizing about the way he moved—efficient yet unhurried, every motion deliberate.

He slipped behind the counter, exchanging a few words with his co-worker and immediately got to work, hands busy as he prepared glasses and checked bottles, like this was all second nature to him.

He hadn't noticed you yet.

And you decide to change that.

Ignoring your friends, you walked around them and approached him with a sudden burst of confidence. Maybe it was the aftereffects of finishing your examinations. Maybe it was the way he carried himself but whatever it was, you wanted him to notice you.

Every step you took reduced the distance between the two of you and you stood before him, with the high counter being the only thing hindering your way.

Thankfully, he had his back facing you as he was busy preparing drinks for an order. Which gave you a front-row seat of staring (or drooling because you're only human) at his broad back, the way you can see his back muscles moved whenever he shook the mixture in a Boston Shaker, only for it to paint a… different image in your mind.

You rapidly shook your head, getting rid of the indecent thought, clearing your throat to muster the remains of your courage left.

"Excuse me, I would like to order," you called out, ensuring to raise you voice a little to make yourself heard.

Your words were a mix of half-lie and half-truth. After all, it would be foolish of you not to order anything when you're a regular at Hidden Eve. He raised his head and turned, looking at you over your shoulder.

And then, he fully turned to face you and oh god, he looked devastatingly handsome.

He had the kind of face that made people paused without realizing why. Sharp yet youthful. Every featured was carved with an almost predatory elegance. His eyes were the first thing you noticed—dark, intense and puma-like, heavy-lidded with a quiet intensity that felt instinctual rather than learned.

There was something watchful in them, something that made you felt seen even when his expression remained unreadable.

His nose was straight and defined, giving his profile a clean, striking line. His lips—full, thick and plump, rested in a neutral curve that made you wondered how it'll feel when pressed against yours.

It also made you wondered if he was a good kisser or not. His jawline was sharp and unforgiving, the kind that catches the light whenever he tilted his head slightly, shadows tracing along the hollow of his cheekbones.

"What do you want to order?" He asked, setting down the shaker as he gave you his fullest attention, cocking his head to the side. The movement caused his earrings to sway side to side.

Your mind blanked out. Even though you had been here many times, it's like the menu you had long remembered by heart had been erased from your memory. You opened and closed your mouth, resembling a gaping fish out of water.

At this point, you were making a complete fool of yourself by standing there, head empty with not a single thought in it.

"…Can I order you or are you only available for dine-in?"

Fuck.

The words slipped out of your mouth before your mind could processed it. Thankfully, the people around you were either busy getting drunk or chit-chatting with their friends to pay you any mind—something you were immensely grateful for.

You gulped and fidgeted with the hem of your coat, twisting and pinching the fabric between your fingers.

After what felt like eternity, the guy chuckled, lips curved upward. His shoulders shook as he laughed. Even though it was crowded and noisy, your ears could only registered the sound of his amused chuckle—the sound low, deep and husky.

You never felt like this before—the effect a complete handsome stranger had on you, but you weren't complaining one bit.

"You're funny, I'll give you that but no, I'm not. Sorry to disappoint," he answered, looking at you with his head tilted to the side, amused.

"But if you want, I can make a drink for you. Call it a personal recommendation from the best bartender," he continued. "So? What do you say?"

You couldn't trust your voice at that moment, wordlessly nodding your head in a daze. He noticed it. Of course he does but he didn't point out loud. Instead, he hummed and began moving about with experience and confidence, like he knew what he was doing.

You watched as he reached for a glass without hesitation, fingers long and steady as he inspected it under the lights before setting it down. Ice followed—measured and deliberate, the sound sharp and clean against the hum of the bar. He moved like he had done this a thousand times, muscle memory guiding him for every step.

Bottles came next.

He selected them with utmost care, only briefly reading labels before uncapping them, the soft clink lost beneath the music. A pour of something dark and smooth, followed by a lighter spirit that caught the light as it flowed.

He didn't rushed. Didn't overthink. Each motion was precise, practiced and almost intimate—like the drink wasn't just being made, but considered.

Every now and then, his eyes flicked up.

Just for a second but enough to check if you were watching.

And you were.

Right from the very start.

He added a twist of citrus, fingers pressing the peel just enough for the liquids to mist over the rim before dropping it in. The scent reached you first—warm, sharp and addictive. He stirred once and twice, then slid the drink across the counter toward you.

"There. Not on the menu," he said, meeting your gaze again.

The glass was cold beneath your fingers when you took it, condensation already forming. One sip was enough to tell you everything—you didn't know what it was called, but it was smooth, layered and deceptively gentle before the heat bloomed low in your chest.

He watched your reaction closely, eyes narrowing slightly, waiting expectantly. When your expression shifted from surprise to reluctant approval, the right corner of his mouth lifted.

"Told you," he murmured, pleased with your reaction.

"I won't be too confident if I were you. I'll have you know that I'm quite picky with my drinks," you retorted, internally wincing at how weak your words and voice sounded.

"Right," the attractive stranger—bartender, drawled. "I'm sure I can impress you with skills so I am pretty confident."

Huh. Never thought you have a thing for confident men but here you are, attempting to shoot your shot on someone who you just met for the first time.

It also made you wondered why you haven't seen him before in your previous few trips to Hidden Eve, but you simply shrugged it off that he was a newly-joined staff.

You rested your elbows on the bar with your half-drank glass resting before you, flashing him a coy smile. "Well, color me impressed then. Wanna get out of here?"

The stranger blinked.

Once. Twice.

He let out a laugh, the sound light-hearted and kind. It was the kind of tone where you knew this was going—not according to your plan.

"Bold, but no thanks, I'm good. Nice try though," he politely shot down your offer.

You parted your lips, wanting to say something but a large group of people entered the bar. He glanced at you, almost like he was hesitant on whether he should still tend to you or move to help his co-worker in making the large order.

Seeing this, you flashed him with what you hoped was an reassuring smile and waved him off. No words were exchanged.

He nodded, glancing your way one final time before speeding off, easily reaching his co-worker in less than ten large strides and began to help him make the drinks. Now that you were left alone, you decided it was time to regroup with your friends.

It was easy to spot them. They managed to find themselves a table, either half-drunk or completely drunk with no in-between.

"Look who's here to bless us with her presence!" One of your friends shouted at a loud voice, unaware of the startled looks she got from the people around her.

Your face burned as you sat down, placing your drink down on the table. "Shut up, I wasn't gone for that long."

Another one who was sober the entire time, giggled as she playfully nudged her elbow against yours. "Don't think we didn't saw how you were flirting with the bartender back there. He's cute too."

You smiled unknowingly, only to realize it a few seconds later. Your friends wasted no time in teasing you. Some even made the loud and immature kissing sounds, much to your embarrassment.

You flipped them off but despite your reaction, you were already laughing, feeling the waves of their happiness and the current moment you had with them.

"You guys are so annoying," you complained, giggling at how your friend threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in to ruffle your hair.

"We love you too. Now drink! We're not leaving until you're shit-faced!"

~

The second time you met him was at Hidden Eve again, which wasn't a surprise since he is working there. Except you went alone, without your friends. They had decided to go on a shopping trip for the whole day and that was something you couldn't handled.

You didn't have the stamina nor energy to spend your day walking around, browsing at countless shops and feeling your wallet getting lighter and lighter.

Besides, you were on a mission. A mission to get to know the bartender.

After that first encounter with him, you were very determined to have him. No matter what. And if there was anything about you, it was the fact that you can be a persistent person when the situation called for it. Said situation meant now—with you wanting the bartender's number, name and if possible, to sleep with him.

It was close to six-thirty when you entered Hidden Eve and with how they had opened thirty minutes ago, there was only a few people in there, drinking to their heart's content.

You stood near the door, letting your eyes scanned the surroundings while trying to locate a certain someone, unaware that your presence was noticed by one of the bartenders.

"Looking for someone?" An amused voice asked, scaring you.

Your head snapped to your right, startled.

A man stood just a few steps away behind the bar, one elbow leaning against the counter as he wiped down a glass with an unhurried ease, like he has all the time in the world.

He looked relaxed, like someone who had seen all kinds of customers walking through Hidden Eve's doors and could read them within seconds.

His lips curved into an amused smile, eyes flicking from your face to the door and back again, clearly entertained by the way you had been caught red-handed.

"Woah, easy. Didn't mean to scare you," he said lightly.

You swallowed, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag as you tugged it closer, to protect yourself. From what? You weren't sure. "I—"

The word died before it could became anything else.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing and then glanced around the bar once more—empty stools, quiet corners and only a handful of patrons nursing their drinks.

"Let me guess, you're looking for someone," he said, stating it like it was a fact. Like this had happened before.

Heat crept up your neck. You hesitated, debating whether to lie. But your eyes betrayed you, instinctively darting toward the counter, the hallway behind it, anywhere but him.

That was enough for him to know your intention.

He let out a soft laugh. "You've got a terrible poker face."

Your embarrassment must've been obvious because his smile softened, losing its teasing edge. "Don't worry, you're not the first who came back looking for him. Won't be the last either."

Before you could asked what he meant or who exactly he was, he set the glass aside and nodded towards the narrow corridor beside the bar. "If it's him you're looking for, he stepped out a few minutes ago."

Your breath caught. You knew who he was referring to without his name mentioned.

"He does that sometimes before he starts. Smoke break. Clears his head, or so he says," the bartender went on casually, eyeing you with an unreadable look on his face, his doe-like eyes focused on your figure.

You opened your mouth, question after question piling up this time but again, no words came out. The man noticed. Of course he did.

"He won't be long," he added, tone almost reassuring. "Back door's past the storage room. Just follow the hallway and you'll be able to find it."

He gave you one final knowing look before turning back to his work, like the interaction had already ended. Like he had told you something that was probably, against a stranger's violation of privacy.

Left with no choice and no excuse to linger, you took a breath and moved past the bar. Your shoes echoed softly against the floor as you slipped into the narrow corridor.

The warmth and low music of Hidden Eve dulled with every step, replaced by cooler air and the faint, unmistakable scent of cigarettes drifting from somewhere ahead.

Your pulse picked up.

You didn't know why you were nervous. You barely knew him. And yet, here you are, pushing the back door open as your eyes looked around and then, you saw him.

He stood a few steps away, leaning against the wall with one foot propped up behind him, posture loose in a way that suggested this was familiar to him.

A cigarette rested between his fingers, glowing faintly as he took a slow drag, the ember brightening before dimming again. Smoke slipped past his thick lips in a steady exhale, rising and dissolving into the night air.

His other hand held his phone, thumb scrolling absently as if whatever was on the screen couldn't captured his attention. The soft light from it cast subtle shadows across his face, sharpening his features—the sharp and deadly line of his jaw, the slight furrow between his eyebrows and the way his eyelashes lowered as he focused.

Even when he's dressed in black, sleeves deliciously and sinfully rolled up, he looked effortlessly out of place but perfectly at ease, all at once. There was something private about the moment, something you felt like you had stumbled into by accident.

You froze at the doorway, unsure whether to announce your presence or retreat.

As if sensing you, he paused mid-scroll. He lowered his phone slightly, eyes lifting from the screen and landing on you. The surprise was brief, barely there, but you caught it. His gaze lingered—assessing and curious, before the corners of his mouth tugged upward in the faintest hint of a smile.

"You lost?" He asked, voice roughened a little by the cigarette.

The question itself was casual but the way his eyes stayed on you wasn't.

"N-No," you answered, wincing at how you stuttered over that one, singular word.

You fiddled with the hem of your right sleeve as you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

He didn't looked away, eyes locked onto you like a sniper locked onto their target. "You're the girl from before. The one who tried to hit on me," he pointed out.

A part of you wanted to giggle out loud. At the fact that he actually remembered you—a random, nameless strange. Another part of you wanted to crawl into a hole and bury yourself. At how he remembered you as the girl who tried to hit on him. Sure he wasn't wrong but he could have said something else, other than that.

"It'd be great if you could remember me as anything else but that," you replied and your words made him chuckled.

You watched as he took another puff of his cigarette, exhaling it through his parted lips with his head tilted back slightly. And fuck, the sight instantly made your mind drifted—to how good he'd look with you straddling his lap as you ride him. If possible, you want him to blow you the smoke from his mouth, somewhat like a kiss.

He took one, final puff before dropping it onto the dirtied ground, extinguishing it by crushing it with his right shoe. You watched as he dropped his left foot onto the ground, pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and moved to your direction.

You stood there, staring at him with wide eyes until he stopped before you, leaving some distance between the two of you.

"So, you here for a drink or trying to hit on me again?" He casually asked, the calmness and how easily he asked you made you choked on air.

"Don't get too cocky now. Not everything's about you," you weakly retorted but deep down, the both of you knew you were lying.

He didn't believed you. He arched an eyebrow and since when such a simple, meaningless action looked this attractive? He slowly nodded his head, lips pursed in a thin line. Something pink poked out from his lips and your eyes instinctively flicked down before snapping it back up.

However, he had noticed it. Of course he did.

"Sure about that? No one other than Heeseung knows I'm back here. Which meant he was the one who told you where I am," he said.

Heeseung? That must be the other guy's name.

You nervously swallowed. "..What would you do if I say yes?"

"Nothing, it's not like I can kick you out of the bar when you didn't do anything wrong. Besides, you're not the first person who tried to hit on me," he shrugged his shoulders, shifting to the right so he can head for the door, opening it and moved to the side.

"After you. If you want, I can make another drink for you. Except you need to pay this time, can't keep giving drinks away for free," he smirked.

And like the whip fool you are, you obliged and stepped in with him hot on your heels. The bar was still quite empty, considering how it was close to seven, which meant today will be a slow day.

You moved to the bar as he slipped behind the counter, throwing on the apron to tie it around his waist. You sat on the nearest vacant high-stool, placing your bag on your lap as you stared at the menu, pondering over which drink to order.

"What are you planning on getting?" He asked.

You continued to scan the menu, eyes landing on a drink name that piqued your attention. "The Elden's Fall."

He hummed, leaning in slightly to see what you had picked. "Bold choice. Sure you can handle the heat?"

Before you could ask what that meant, he had already looked away and got straight to work.

He moved fast—too fast that it startled you for a moment. A clean glass appeared in his hand out of thin air, like it was summoned by magic. Ice shortly followed, the sharp clink echoing softly beneath the music from the speakers.

He reached for bottles without hesitation, fingers wrapping around them with practiced familiarity, pouring with a precision that spoke of long hours and muscle memory.

You watched, mesmerized by the show he put on.

There was no wasted movement. No second-guessing. He worked like he trusted himself completely, measuring by instinct rather than sight, switching bottles, shaking and straining. Each step flowed seamlessly into the next. The shaker rattled briefly in his hands before he set it down, already reaching for a garnish.

In less than a minute, he slid the glass towards you, the liquid catching the warm bar light. The color was rich in color and deceptively inviting and alluring.

"Here. Elden's Fall," he announced.

You blinked. "That was… fast."

He smirked. "When you've worked here for a while, you can pretty much make anything even with your eyes closed."

You wrapped your fingers around the glass, feeling the chill seeping into your skin. The first sip surprised you—smooth at first, then warming, with a subtle bite that lingered pleasantly on your tongue. Riki watched your reaction closely and like before, waiting with an expectant look on his face.

When you raised your eyebrows slightly, he nodded, satisfied. "Told you."

"Do you do this with every customer you talked to?" You asked as you placed the glass down on the counter with a soft, inaudible 'clink'.

"Do what?" He asked. Whether he was acting innocent or oblivious, you weren't sure.

"Whatever," you gestured to the both of you, "this is."

He chuckled, drying his hands on a nearby towel. "What? Talking to a customer and preparing their drink? It's part of the job."

You rolled your eyes but the way your lips twitched upwards say otherwise. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Do I?" He cocked his head to the side, a faint smile still playing on his lips as he leaned against the counter.

You hummed, unconvinced. "Funny. You didn't look this attentive the first time I saw you."

The bartender was unfazed, arching an eyebrow. "That's because I was busy and it's peak hours."

"And now?"

"Now it's quieter and from the looks of it, the pace won't change until it's closing time," he answered calmly. His gaze dipped to your glass, then rose again, lingering this time. The way he looked at you sent shivers down your spine. You felt seen—a rare feeling.

The air between you shifted. It was subtle, almost imperceptible but you knew something had changed.

You took another sip, buying yourself a few more seconds. "So what, you just choose to spend time talking to me instead of working? Wonder what your boss will say."

"Heeseung doesn't really care as long as I get my job done. Lucky him, I'm fast on my legs and hands," he shrugged off your words with a dismissive flick of his hand.

This time, it was your turn to arch an eyebrow. "Heeseung's your boss? The one who snitched on you?"

He chuckled, nodding. "Yup, that's him. He's like a older brother to me and was nice enough to offer me a job when I needed money. Flexible working hours. Having your friend as your boss, being able to make different drinks and," he paused—deliberate, with a sly smile that made heat pooled in your stomach, "talking to pretty customers like you is a bonus."

You set the glass down again, fingers absently tracing the condensation. "Careful. That almost sounded like flirting."

"Almost? You're the one who came in looking for me. If anyone's flirting, that'd be you," he pointed out.

You opened your mouth to argue, then stopped.

He let out a soft laugh, quieter this time. "Relax," he said, despite how his expression said anything but that. "If I flirted with every customer, I'd never get any work done."

"And yet, here you are. Not working," you countered.

"Break's over," he said, eyes flicking briefly to the bar clock then back to you. "But I don't mind taking my time."

Your pulse betrayed you, quickening at the unspoken implication. He straightened, reaching for another glass as someone down the bar waved him over. Before turning away, he looked over his shoulder and added, "Finish your drink. If you want another… well, you know where to find me."

He walked away, leaving you sitting there on the stool, with your heart racing like you had ran a marathon, flustered and breathless. It was only when you left an hour later did it hit you that you didn't get his name.

Again.

~

The third time you bumped into him was once again, at Hidden Eve. This time however, you weren't alone. Your friends wanted to come along, stating that they wanted to see you fumble for the third time and how they will do anything but to support you.

Which brought you to your current situation—you and your friends managed to find a table for yourselves while looking at the menu, wanting to try something different instead of ordering the usual drinks.

And then, someone approached your table, gaining your attention.

"Looks like you ladies are struggling and thought I could help," a familiar silky smooth male voice spoke up, making himself heard through the music playing from the speakers.

All of you looked up and everyone except you were confused, not knowing who he was.

"Are you Heeseung?" You asked warily and your friends snapped their heads to you at lightning speed that it was a miracle they didn't dislocated their necks.

The man—Heeseung, blinked twice and then recognition appeared on his face. "Oh, it's you. You're the one who came over last week. I remember you."

"You what?"

"So the reason why you abandoned the all girl's day was because you came here? To flirt with your boyfriend?"

"Damn, so how did it go?"

Your friends wasted no time in bombarding you with questions until you weren't given the chance to defend yourself. But then, why do that when they were merely speaking the truth.

Your cheeks and ears turned red as you averted your eyes, unable to look at them. Heeseung, on the other hand, was having the time of his life laughing at your current situation.

"Oh, I'm glad someone find this funny. Are you here to make fun of me or helping us?" You scowled, throwing him a light-hearted glare.

Heeseung raised his hands in mock surrender. "Woah, calm down. Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Let me know if you want something light or heavy then we can start from there."

You and two of your friends went with light, not wanting to get drunk while the rest went with heavy. Heeseung didn't asked for more questions.

Instead, he turned and walked away, heading to the bar like a man on a mission. You and your friends shared a confused look as you watched Heeseung moved like he owns the place.

And he does.

After all, he is the owner.

It took him less than ten minutes to finish making the drinks. He placed them on a round, circular-shaped tray, balanced it with his left palm like an experienced waiter as he approached your table. A charming smile was stretched on his face as he stopped before you and your friends.

"Hello ladies, here are your drinks," he announced, setting all of the glasses down.

Two of them were in a beautiful shade of white and blue. The other three had the same shade of bold and dark red mixed with yellow and orange. The two different colors left trails behind, making the drink looked like it had three different layers. All of you took your very first sips, making the same amazed expressions in unison.

Heeseung smiled, obviously proud and satisfied with your reactions. "What do you think? It's good, right?" He asked, trying to fish for compliments.

Your friends giggled, hooked by both his charms and his notably good features. "Yes, it's better than what we had so far."

"Hey, those drinks were personally selected by me. Please be more mindful of your words or you're hurting my oh so fragile heart," Heeseung protested, resting a hand on his chest with a faux hurt look on his face.

You rolled your eyes, choosing to observe from the sidelines as the bartender talked to your friends while you took a few slow sips here and there. You weren't sure how much time had passed. It could be minutes or hours.

"Hyung, there you are. Stop flirting with the customers and get your ass back to work. We got a huge order to make."

That voice.

Your body stilled. Your fingers tightened its grip around your glass. You didn't had to look up to know who had approached your table. To know who was standing beside Heeseung, talking to him in such a familiar manner—like they had known each other for a while.

However, your body betrayed you, choosing to go against your mind and heart, despite how they were yelling at you to not look his way.

Your eyes drifted up and there he stood. Dressed in the same, standard all black uniform from head to toe with an apron tied around his waist. Nothing about him had changed since you last saw him, which was two weeks later. But god, he always looked good to the point where you found it extremely unfair.

His eyes jumped from one face to another, lingering longer than usual on yours—long enough for you to catch it. But he looked away when you blinked, making you wondered if your eyes were playing tricks on you or you were hallucinating.

"Right, I'll be there," Heeseung answered his co-worker and turned to you and your friends with an apologetic but charming smile, "sorry but seems like work calls. Enjoy the drinks and no, it's not on the house."

Your friends dramatically booed and giving him the thumbs-down gesture as he walked away with his co-worker—the very same bartender who you tried to hit on. Not once but twice.

Your eyes unconsciously followed him, trailing after his tall figure as he moved through the sea of people until he slipped out of your sights, leaving you to sigh under your breath.

There goes my final chance.

Shrugging the thought aside, you decided to focus on enjoying the current moment you have. The moment with your friends while living in temporary happiness.

"That's the spirit! Bottoms up, everyone!" Your friend on your right hollered.

~

This went on for the next two to three hours. As time passed, more and more people entered Hidden Eve until it was packed with people. It was in full swing, with the sound of customers laughing as they chatted among themselves, along with the clinking of glasses as they made a toast to something.

Three of your friends who had chosen the heavy option had long passed out after making a complete fool of themselves—shouting nonsense at the top of their lungs while fighting against your poor, futile attempts of getting them to calm down.

You were the only sober one left as your two other friends—the very same two friends who chose the light options, were lightweights. But thankfully, they were easier to handle and were now passed out by the table.

You had long finished your drink and one glance at your phone told you the time was close to one in the morning. You decided it was time to go home but here comes the most difficult part—waking your drunk friends up while calling a cab for them.

You managed to wake the two of them up and after sobering them up with water, the three of you half-carried and half-dragged your other friends out of the bar.

You barely managed to take more than three steps before you tripped over someone's foot. The floor was about to welcome you with open arms with how close you were about to face-plant into it when a familiar, firm and warm hand grabbed your right shoulder, both stopping and rescuing you in the nick of time.

You glanced over, choking on air when it was none other than the attractive and handsome bartender.

"You good? Looks like you need a little help," he asked, steadying you with both hands. You ignored how you could still felt his warmth emitted from his palms when he withdrew his hands.

"Uh, I think I can manage," you answered, readjusting your friend who had buried her face in the crook of your neck while mumbling something inaudible under her breath.

He hummed, looking over your head, lips quirked upward in an amused smile when he saw the similar states they were in. "Right, I think I should help you before one of your friends dropped someone. Won't want that to happen, do we?"

"I—"

He didn't wait for your response, already moving before you could finished your sentence. You watched as he tended to you. Not your friends but you. He easily threw your friend's right arm around his shoulders with one hand supporting her by the waist—always above the waistline of her jeans, high enough to tell he was a respectful man. Unlike those kinds of men.

When he noticed that you were simply staring at him with a dumbfounded look, he arched an eyebrow. "What? Is there something on my face?" He inquired.

You coughed, averting your eyes to anywhere else but him. "N-Nothing. I'll open the door and call a cab."

You were quick to flee, ears faintly registering his amused chuckle as you opened the door wide enough so him and your other friends were able to half-walk and half-stumble out of the bar.

The moment the door closed, silence engulfed all of you with the music now reduced to a muffled hum in the background. You pulled out your phone and much to your relief, you were able to hail a cab.

"Alright, the driver's coming in seven minutes," you announced to your sober friends, who nodded in acknowledgment as they went to sit on the nearest bench, giving the two of you privacy.

Silence took over the space.

Until he spoke up, breaking it with his low voice.

"Did you gave up?" He asked.

You blinked. "On what?"

He shot you a knowing look, looking downright amused. "You know, I've been waiting for you to shoot your final shot but you didn't. What a shame. Can't believe you left me hanging for the whole day and you're already leaving when it's only one."

You made a noise that strangely sounded like a strangled animal. "I—I didn't want to disturb you, not when you were busy with your job. And besides, it's not like I'm the only one who tried to hit on you."

You couldn't helped yourself with the last sentence and with how petty you sounded. The words slipped out before you could stopped yourself.

It was only when you finished speaking was when the realization and mortification hits you at once without warning. The bartender, however, burst out laughing at the sight of your flustered face.

The sound was warm and unrestrained, spilling out of him in a way that caught you completely off-guard. It wasn't fake—it was real, full-bodied and dangerously charming.

The kind that made your ears flushed red and your heart stuttered at once.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" He teased when he finally calmed down, eyes still crinkled at the corners as he readjusted his grip on your friend who was now using him as a standing lamppost to support herself. "Didn't know you're the jealous type."

"I'm not—" You protested, only for you to stop when you realized what he was doing, with how his grin stretched wider across his face. "I didn't mean it like that."

He hummed, unconvinced but didn't prod further. "Relax. I like it."

What the fuck does that even mean?

The conversation flowed easily after that, like something had finally clicked into place. You talked about nothing and everything—the origin of Hidden Eve, your academic life and your lazy, useless group-mates in your previous group projects and so on.

Talking to him was easy. Like you had nothing to worry about. Like he had somehow eased your burdens without you knowing.

However, you were brought back to reality when a car stopped before you and you recognized the plate number as the cab you had booked.

"Oh, my car's here," you reluctantly said, hesitant.

"Guess it is. C'mon, I'll help you and your friends in getting them in," he said, being the first to open the backdoor as he easily and gently placed your friend in the backseat.

He even helped your other two friends and shortly after, three sleeping girls had fully occupied the backseat. Your two friends took the middle row and you were about to walk around the cab, so you could sit in the passenger seat when the bartender grabbed your wrist in a gentle grip.

Like he was giving you an option to push him away.

"Hey, you don't have to, you know," he murmured, stepping closer while tugging you towards him.

Your breath hitched. "What?"

He leaned in slightly, close enough for you to smell his lingering cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes lingering on his body. "I'm off soon. My place isn't far. We could keep talking… somewhere quieter."

It wasn't a demand or an suggestion.

It was an invitation.

And you would be a fool to turn him down.

~

You didn't get the chance to remove your shoes or take in his apartment, for you were immediately pressed up against the nearest solid surface—the wall on your left. Your startled gasp was swallowed by a intense, dizzying kiss.

You didn't pushed him away, hands reaching out to grip onto the front of his shirt to pull him closer until you're squished chest-to-chest, not wanting to be separated from him.

Your knees buckled when he sensually ran his tongue along the seam of your lips. You obliged, parting your mouth, whining when he gave a light, teasing nip on your bottom lip.

It was hard enough for it to sting but not hard enough for it to bleed. His hands moved like it had a mind of its own, touching and mapping you greedily.

Goosebumps formed on your skin at how cold his hands were—the effects of the current chilling weather.

"Your hands are cold," you murmured against his lips, eyes half-lidded with him looking right at you.

"Really? Didn't noticed. Guess you need to help me warm them up," he drawled and you couldn't hold back the light giggle at his words.

"That was corny," you pointed out.

"Hey, god forbid a guy from trying to be corny," he retorted, faux hurt evident in his voice but you saw the teasing glint in his eyes.

He was about to kiss you again when you slapped your hand over his lips, causing him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"Before we continue, you still haven't told me your name. And I'd like to know the name of the man who I managed to charm, thank you very much," you said.

He stared at you.

Blinked once.

Twice.

"..You can't be serious."

You solemnly nodded. "No, this is a serious matter to me. I treat this very seriously."

The bartender snorted, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "cute" under his breath.

His hand slipped under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. You gulped at how his eyes darkened in unrestrained, pent-up desire and lust. The desire to take you right there and then.

"Listen up, doll. Name's Nishimura Riki. You better remember it because I'll have you screaming it when I'm done with you."

~

Beep beep!

The sound of a car horn going off made you got up from the couch. You looked around, mind still half asleep and that's when it hit you—Doohwa was already waiting outside.

You quickly rushed to freshen up—rinsing your mouth, ensuring your make-up wasn't smudged and your appearance was decent enough to be acceptable.

Satisfied, you grabbed your small bag and left after locking the door behind you.

Doohwa's face lit up at the sight of you as he pushed himself off the car, pulling you into a warm and loving embrace when you got close enough. You laughed, returning the gesture while letting him pressed multiple kisses on your cheek.

"Hi, sweetheart. You ready?" He asked, pulling back so he could see your face.

You nodded, flashing him a smile of your own. "Yup. Ready as I'll ever be. I hope your dad would like me."

Doohwa chuckled as he opened the passenger door for you. "I've told you before, he's a nice and understanding man. Besides, you got nothing to worry about. If he ever says anything weird, just tell me and I'll beat him up for you."

You let out a surprised laugh, watching as he walked round the car and slide into the driver's seat. "What? That's your father, Doohwa. You can't just beat him up."

Your fiance merely shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just doing what anyone would do."

You chose not to say anything else, not wanting to prolong the conversation any further. Doohwa drove off, leaving a trail of smoke and dust behind in his wake.

The drive to your destination took you an hour and a half off as his father stayed in a well-off area and you weren't surprised to find yourself in the city.

After parking the car, the two of you got out. Doohwa lead the way to a house with you lingering behind. You fiddled with the strap of your bag as you stood on the porch while he went to knock on the door twice, firm and resolute.

Knock knock.

Doohwa moved back until he was standing beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder. Your ears registered the sound of a pair of approaching footsteps that gradually grew louder and louder until the door was opened from inside.

Your eyes widened. Breath hitched in your throat. Heart stopped—more like it slammed so hard against your ribcage you thought it might have shattered them.

The man standing in the doorway was not a stranger.

He was taller than you remembered, broader shoulders with the sharp edges of youth smoothed into something colder, more dangerous and more tempting.

Time had carved authority into his features, lines at the corner of his puma-like eyes speaking of years lived without softness. His hair was dyed black, except for a specific part that was in the shade of silver or gray, looking like a streak of moonlight.

He may have changed but you can still recognized him.

Nishimura Riki.

Older. Grown. Devastatingly familiar and still fine as always, aging like fine wine.

For a brief moment, his composure cracked. His eyes—those same eyes that once traced every inch of you, flickered with unmistakable recognition. Shock passed through them so quickly but was immediately buried beneath a mask of control so practiced that it terrified you.

"Doohwa." he greeted his son calmly, voice deeper than before, steadier. "You're early."

His gaze shifted to you.

The air turned suffocating.

You felt Doohwa's shoulder brushed against yours again, unaware of the way your body had gone rigid, unaware that the man in front of him had once known the exact sounds you made when you fell apart, letting him broke you down—part by part. A private and exclusive performance put up for him.

You didn't know how to react, not when Riki's eyes lingered on your parted and lipstick-coated lips a second too long—just long enough for the past to surge violently back to life.

Nothing was said. Nothing had to be.

He moved to the side, allowing the two of you to enter his home.

Riki's apartment opened up into a spacious living area, immediately striking in its quiet luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one side of the room, sheer curtains pulled back to reveal reveal the city stretching out below with glass and steel reflecting everything beneath you. The view alone spoke of money, of success earned and sustained.

Everything inside was deliberate.

Muted tones dominated the space—charcoal, warm beige, deep wood and was balanced by clean, white lines. A low leather sofa was in the middle, placed on top of a textured rug, facing a sleek entertainment unit that was seamlessly built into the wall.

There were no unnecessary decorations and no clutter. Everything placed in their respective positions was done with both purpose and intentions.

Your gaze aimlessly drifted further as you stood there, the hushed conversation between father and son turning into white noise as it blended into the background.

This place didn't belonged to the Riki you met at Hidden Eve. The bartender dressed in all-black and making drinks faster than you could blinked.

No, this apartment belonged to a man who had built a life out of stability and control, a man whose success was etched onto every possible surface.

The current Riki standing a few feet away from you—his broad back and taller figure was different. Seeing both father and son together was when you realized you had been a fool.

How could you not noticed the way they looked similar? Your fiance shares some of his father's features—his unfairly tall height, slightly build figure and the way he carried himself. With nothing but confidence and silent attention.

The kind of attention that drew people in without them knowing. Which was how Riki got you wrapped around his thumb.

But what happened in the past was done. There was nothing you could do to return to it.

"(Name)? You alright?"

You blinked, snapping back to reality when Doohwa called out your name and noticed both men were now looking at you but the way they looked at you was different. One was worried while the other was amused.

Amused like he knew the exact thoughts running through your mind. Like he knew that you were trying to remain calm and not lose your mind.

Like he knew that you felt ashamed of yourself for hooking up with his father back then.

"(Name)? Do you wanna head home instead?" Doohwa asked in a softer tone as he approached you, checking your temperature with one hand pressed against your forehead.

"You don't have a fever, do you?"

You shook your head, forcing yourself to look at him while ignoring Riki's heavy and intense gaze that was boring holes into your head. You flashed your fiance a smile.

To make yourself feel better and definitely not to send a message to Riki, you rested your hand on Doohwa's wrist. From the corner of your eyes, you saw the way Riki's jaw tightened.

Good. Let him see.

"I'm fine, don't worry. I'm just a little tired from the drive," you answered, playing the role of the polite and well-mannered daughter-in-law.

Doohwa nodded, thankfully buying your lie. He then turned to his father with a oblivious smile on his face. "So, do you need help in making dinner?" He asked.

Riki scoffed and rolled his eyes. He pulled the long sleeves of his gray sweatshirt up, revealing his lower arms. You hated how your eyes immediately zoned in on the newly revealed skin, even though you had seen it before. Riki subtly smirked when he caught you staring.

Of course he did.

"No need, just make yourselves at home and it'll be ready soon," he waved off his son's offer and words, pointing to the couch and walked into the kitchen without waiting for his response.

This is going to be a long night…

Riki ended up making seafood pasta for the three of you. At first, you didn't want to eat as you weren't hungry but your stomach chose that moment to betray you by grumbling out loud, much to your embarrassment and horror.

The two men glanced at one another before they burst out laughing, leaving you standing there while trying to resist the urge to jump out of the nearest window. Eventually, the three of you settled down by the dining table and begin eating.

It was quiet for the first fifteen minutes, with none of you uttering a single word and the occasional clink-clanking of your utensils against your plates. You pointedly avoided Riki's gaze, able to feel him staring at you from across the table.

To make matters worse, you were seated directly opposite of him while Doohwa was completely oblivious to the thick and tense silence between the two of you.

That was until, Riki broke the silence by asking a harmless, almost seemingly innocent question.

"So, mind introducing your girlfriend to me?" He asked, eyes flicking to your direction for a quick, fleeting second. It was so fast that you wouldn't have caught it if you weren't already looking at him.

Doohwa paused mid-bite, fork frozen in mid-air. He glanced at you and you nodded, resting your hand above his underneath the table—the very same hands that wore the matching rings. He swallowed his mouthful of food, nearly choking on it and placed the fork down on his plate.

"Uh, actually, she's not my girlfriend," he started off.

You resist the urge to facepalm. Riki, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow and waited for his son to finish speaking. He leaned back in his seat, his long legs stretching out before him.

You flinched when he purposely knocked his feet against yours, causing you to grip onto your dress with your free hand. Riki didn't looked at you, like he knew the effect he had on you, even though some time had passed.

Doohwa raised your intertwined hands, proudly showing off the rings wrapped around your ring fingers. "We're engaged."

Silence.

Riki didn't moved at all, like he had been frozen. He furrowed his eyebrows, not in confusion but in something sharper—calculation. The proud ease he had carried moments ago was gone, now replaced by a carefully curated blank expression that doesn't reached his eyes.

His eyes flicked down to your intertwined hands, zeroing in on the rings that caught the lights.

His jaw tightened. Such a subtle reaction, the kind of reaction that only someone who knew him well or had once known him intimately, would notice. The muscle in his cheek flexed once. Twice, as if he was biting back the words threatening to slip from his tongue.

"Engaged."

He said quietly, testing the word and how it felt on his tongue—like it was foreign to him. He looked up, finally meeting your eyes and there it was.

Recognition.

Not of the situation but the sheer irony of it all. Of the past violently colliding with the present. You saw the way his eyes darkened, the way his breath slowed just a fraction too late. He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time.

Except now, it was layered with years, choices and consequences.

~

The rest of dinner passed in a blink of an eye, with both father and son catching up on what they had missed out. You weren't listening as you stared at a random spot of the table, your empty plate staring back, almost like it was mocking you.

Laughing at how cruel fate was—for you to now be engaged to the son of a man who you used to sleep with. It's a miracle that Doohwa didn't knew about your past, as he didn't asked back when he was dating you.

But now, here you are, sitting there, it made you wondered: should you have told him? If you did, how would he react? Would he call off the engagement immediately? If yes, how were you going to explain to your parents and friends?

You could imagine their reactions—horrified and disgusted if they were to find out. Worst case scenario was how they will refuse to acknowledge your presence and kicked you out, leaving you to fend for yourself.

"…me), hello? Are you still there?"

You snapped out of your trance, raising your head to see that they were looking at you. Your eyes instinctively landed on Riki's face first before you looked away, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with Doohwa.

"Yea?" You asked, grateful that your voice didn't cracked or stuttered.

"I was thinking if you're fine with staying over the night," your fiance. He was quick to slip in another sentence when he saw the mild confusion on your face. "That is, if you don't mind, of course. But if you don't want to, then we can just drive home since it's already getting late."

One look thrown in the clock's direction told you it was close to ten and at this time, the streets were completely empty and dark. Not that great for driving. You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip.

The last thing you wanted was to stay in the same roof as Riki but you didn't want to be that one fiance who tried to stop their partner from spending quality time with their family.

Or single parent, in this case.

Which was why you ended up nodding your head, although reluctantly. "Fine, we can stay over."

You pretended not to notice how Riki's lips curved upward in a faint, knowing smile. Not wanting to be in the same room as him for another second, you quickly stood up from your seat, startling the two of them.

"I—I'll go and wash the dishes," you muttered under your breath, quickly grabbing the plates and fled to the kitchen, like your life depended on it, leaving a confused Doohwa and a quiet Riki behind as you disappeared from their sights.

You silently washed the dishes, scrubbing every inch of the plates with the sponge to buy yourself more time. You were so engrossed in your current task that you didn't registered another presence, who had entered the kitchen without you knowing. Which was why you nearly dropped the plate into the sink when he spoke up.

"You always know how to pick the right ones."

You spun around on your feet, staring at Riki who leaned against the fridge with his arms loosely crossed. He chuckled at your wide eyes and startled reaction, his eyes shamelessly scanned you from head to toe. His gaze was intense enough to make you squirmed on the spot.

"What are you talking about?" You asked.

Pushing himself off the fridge, the older man shortened the distance in no more than six large strides. You leaned back, wanting to stay as far away as possible but it was futile when the cool surface of the counter dug into your skin.

You could feel your dress getting soaked in the water near the sink area, causing you to shiver as the now cold fabric clung onto your skin.

Riki chuckled, bracing his right hand on the edge of the counter while the other confidently rested on your hip—like he knew exactly where to touch you to make you all putty in his grip. He leaned in, not close enough for him to kiss you but close enough to make you ached for it.

"You know what I'm talking about. Could've just said you missed me," he murmured, angling his head to the side so he could whispered into your right ear, his hot breath grazing against your skin with every word he spoke.

"Tell me, does he fuck you better than me, hm? Does he know you like your hair being pulled? Does he know you like being edged until you're a begging mess?"

His sudden crude and filthy words drew an involuntarily whimper from you. Shame hit you like a tidal wave when you realized what just happened.

"Stop," you protested but the way your voice came off weak only made Riki continued, wanting to push you over the edge.

The hand that was braced at your side moved to cup your chin with his thumb resting against your bottom lip. You knew you should pushed him away, that he shouldn't be touching you like this—like he owns you.

But you couldn't. Couldn't moved or do anything. Instead, you let him do as he pleased.

Just like the good old times.

Riki smirked, tilting your chin up. Your breath hitched when he leaned closer. Now, he was close enough for his lips to graze against yours in the lightest kiss. Only either one of you had to lean in and you would be kissing already.

"You say stop but look at you, already letting me do what I want," he purred, voice low and velvety smooth.

His eyes darted down to your parted lips, looking like he was about to cross the final, invisible line.

"(Name)?" Doohwa called out your name.

The sudden appearance of his voice felt like someone had delivered a slap to your face. You jerked your head back, freeing yourself from his grasp and managed to shove Riki away, ignoring how a part of you wanted him to come back, already missing his warmth.

You couldn't find it in yourself to look at him, blindly walking past him as you left the kitchen and headed to the living room—the direction of where Doohwa's voice came from.

"Hey, there you are—woah, are you alright? You looked a little red," he said, only to stop when he saw how your cheeks were slightly red.

"I'm fine, just tired. Why did you called me?" You shook off his concern, relieved that he had saved you without him knowing.

"Ah, right. There's a guest room available for you, so you can take it," he said.

You blinked. "Wait, what about you?"

Doohwa sighed. "I need to head to work. Got a sudden call from my boss and he said he needs me to come in."

"What? But it's already late! And it's a Saturday too," you pointed out.

You didn't want to be left alone with Riki, not after what nearly happened back then.

"I know, but this is the kind of risk I have to take when it comes to being a lawyer. I'm really sorry. I'm not sure how long I'll be away so if I'm not back tomorrow morning, you can ask my dad to drop you off," he apologized, stepping closer to pull you into a soft and loving embrace as he kissed your forehead.

Sighing, you leaned into his chest and returned the gesture. "..Fine, text me when you reach and when you're done. Don't make me worry about you."

"Can't promise that—ow! Did you just flicked my forehead!?"

Rolling your eyes, you shooed him out of the apartment after kissing him on his lips and closed the door. This time, you could sensed his presence without turning around.

"Don't even think about it," you said as you turned around, crossing your arms as you glared and scowled with your entire might at Riki.

"I didn't even say anything," he pointed out, looking offended like you had thought the worst of him.

And you did.

"I don't trust you," you muttered under your breath but he caught it.

"Oh, that's rich coming from someone who ran away the moment it gets too much," he retorted.

His words which contained the harsh, brutal truth made you flinched. It was also the way he said it—with venom seeping into his voice, how his shoulders tensed up and how he narrowed his eyes.

From where you stood, you were gravely reminded of that fateful night. The night when Riki wanted to be something more. Something that involved you having to tie your life with his. Something that required you to commit.

You remembered how you refused, how the two of you ended up arguing and how you stormed out of his house, ignoring how he shouted your name—with both anger and hurt laced in his voice. How Riki had no choice but to watch your retreating figure until you were out of his sight.

After that night, you had cut ties with him—blocking him everywhere and avoided him like the plague. At first, it was hard since you were so used to having him in your life that you felt lonely. But you didn't went on one-night stands. You couldn't focused on anything and it was a sheer miracle that you even graduated in the first place.

And now, here you were—trying to hold your ground as your past had came back to haunt you.

"I told you that I don't do relationships," you croaked out.

Riki barked out a cold, bitter laugh as he approached you, closing the distance with every step he took. "You say that but don't think I didn't seen the way you looked at me," he fired back.

"What are you talking about?" You frowned, confused but you didn't moved, standing where you are as the man gets closer and closer.

"Don't play dumb with me, (Name). I've seen it, every time when you think I'm not looking," he said, voice low and edged with something dangerously close to resentment. "The way your eyes lingered. The way your breath changed when I get too close. You don't get to pretend none of that means anything."

You weakly scoffed, shuffling your feet about on the spot as if that could buy you time. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?"

Riki stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his warmth, his presence pressing into your space the same, effortless way he used to.

"Because this feels a lot like before. Late nights and stolen looks. You acting like it's nothing while I'm the one left wondering where I stand."

"That's not fair," you replied, your voice trembling despite yourself. "I was honest with you from the start. I told you I didn't want more."

"And then you stayed!" Riki snapped, having lost the last few shreds of his patience and self-restraint. You flinched at the sudden loud volume of his voice.

"You kept coming back. You let me touch you like it didn't mean anything. Like I didn't mean anything. Like I was just someone for you to use," he continued, not giving you any room to speak.

The words hung heavy in the air. You couldn't looked him in the eyes any longer, letting your gaze dropped to the floor. "I left because it was getting complicated."

Riki went silent, staring at you with an incredulous look before he chuckled. But the sound contained no emotions. It was simply exhaustion and frustration.

"No. You left because it was getting real," he corrected you, not feeling any form of remorse when you cowered underneath his gaze.

"You disappeared without looking back. No goodbye. No explanation. Just gone. And now you're here, engaged to my son, telling me you don't do relationships like that's able to erase what we had!?"

"I didn't ran away. I chose a different route," you whispered but deep down, the both of you knew that was nothing more than a pathetic excuse.

Riki sharply exhaled, like he had reached the end of his restraint.

"I've had enough," he muttered, more to himself than to you.

Before you could react, he was in front of you, one hand on your waist while the other tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. His face was inches away now, breath warm against your skin, eyes searching yours with something raw and unguarded.

He leaned in and then stopped.

It was like time froze. He stayed there, forehead resting against yours. You knew what he was doing. He was giving you time. Space and a choice. The choice of pushing him away and telling him to stop.

But you didn't.

Your silence was enough to act as a response.

Something dark and resolved flickered across Riki's face before he took the leap of faith, closing the distance.

His lips crashed against yours with force. Not reckless but desperate. Like he had been holding back for years. Like he had been dreaming about this.

Wanting to feel the intoxicating feeling of your soft lips against his. The kiss was deep and consuming, all of his pent-up frustration and unfinished words was poured into the kiss.

You let him tilt your head to the side while deepening the kiss. You had done this before—kissing but this? This was different. Unlike the old times when you kissed just for the sake of it, this felt more real and raw.

You obediently parted your lips, granting him entrance and just like before, Riki ran his tongue along the seam before exploring your warm, wet mouth with one slow and thorough lick.

The sensation was enough to make your head spin and ears burned at how the loud lewd sounds echoed in the living room. Your knees buckled, threatening to give way but Riki was faster.

In one smooth and fluid movement, Riki had blindly maneuvered you to the nearest wall surface that was located behind you. You gasped into his mouth when your back landed against the firm, cool surface of the wall.

With Riki's taller frame completely hovering over you, you had nowhere else to run.

Not that you wanted to run in the first place.

"W-Wait—" You protested but your voice died in your throat when Riki lifted you up, leaving your feet uselessly hanging in the air.

You squeaked; startled and out of pure instinct of the numerous times you had done this, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Riki grinned into the kiss—something you purposely ignored.

You knew he will be smug about it, about how things haven't changed and how you still reacted the same way, back when you were younger.

The way Riki kissed you was completely different from Doohwa. Unlike your fiance who treats you gently, with such care, love and devotion, Riki was the completely opposite. He kissed you like he wanted to claim and devour you, both inside and outside.

Your mind spun, hands now gripping onto the front of his sweatshirt to ground yourself into the current moment.

You flinched when he nipped at your bottom lip, the sharp and stinging sensation making you let out a whimper that was greedily swallowed by Riki. Without you knowing, your hands began moving like it had a mind of its own.

You moved to grab a fistful of his abyssal-like hair, tugging at it which elicited a low groan from him—the sound sending shivers down your spine and heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn't even crossed your legs with how they were wrapped around his waist. After what felt like forever, Riki broke the kiss. He rested his forehead against yours as the both of you spent a few minutes catching your breath.

You couldn't looked away from him and with how close he was, you could see nothing but pure desire and lust behind them.

The sight of it was so overwhelming that you turned your head to the side. But Riki didn't liked that.

"Ah ah, look at me," he murmured, voice low and raspy as he grabbed your chin and turned you back to him.

To Riki, nothing could compared to how you looked before him. Your eyes were wide and dazed. Your lips were swollen and the lipstick you wore was smudged around the corners. He was certain that his lips was probably stained as well, but he didn't cared.

Riki's eyes darkened as a dark and twisted smile stretched across his face, resting his thumb on your bottom lip while he pressed down on it, watching how you obliged him by letting him do as he pleased.

"You have no idea how long I waited for this," he cooed.

He then moved back and placed you back down onto your feet. He steadied you when your body swayed slightly. He raised his hand, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your right ear.

The smile on his face was anything but soft and loving. No, it looked almost dark, twisted and something else. Something that made him seemed like he knew something you don't.

"I'll stop here for now. But next time," he paused briefly, leaning down so he could whisper into your ear, "next time, I won't stop."

Riki didn't wait for your response, turning to walk away while leaving you standing there as reality gradually sink in of what you had just done.

~

Needless to say, you didn't slept well that night. You spent the entire night tossing and turning on the bed in the guestroom. Riki was generous enough to leave a spare set of clothes on the bed when he showed you to the guestroom.

You ignored how the clothes belonged to him and how they completely engulfed you with the black sweatshirt reaching your thighs and how you had to pull the strings of the sweatpants until it's tight enough so it won't dropped.

Every time you closed your eyes, your mind went back to the kiss. To how Riki kissed you effortlessly and to the way he looked at you with that glint in his eyes.

But most importantly, you couldn't stopped thinking about the things he said before he kissed you. How hurt and frustrated he was with you back then.

Somehow and someway, you managed to catch some sleep. When you woke up and checked your phone, it was already close to ten in the morning. You got out, headed to the guest bathroom where there was an extra set of toiletries for you to use.

Once you were done with your morning routine, you left the room and headed to the kitchen, mouth watering at the fragrant smell of bacon, coffee and scrambled eggs.

Riki glanced up at the sound of your approaching footsteps. The way his jaw clenched and how he had to physically hold himself back at how good you looked, dressed in his clothes didn't went unnoticed by you.

"You're awake. I made breakfast. Doohwa told me to drop you off later," he said, gesturing to the table.

You silently nodded as you took your seat and helped yourself to the food. Riki sat opposite of you but unlike you, he didn't eat. Instead, he stared at you. To say it was nerve-wrecking would be an understatement. It felt like you were a prey and he was the predator, watching you while hidden in the shadows before making his move.

And he did.

"So, did you sleep well?" He inquired.

The sudden question made you stilled.

To anyone else, it would had been an innocent and harmless question. But you knew better. You knew the meaning behind it. Riki knew the effect he had on you. He knew you didn't slept at all. He knew you couldn't stopped replaying the kiss in your mind, over and over in an endless cycle.

He knew you were starting to have doubts.

You gripped onto the chopsticks, eyes staring at a random spot of the table. You wanted to lie, to tell him that "yes, I slept well" but this was Riki. Someone who had known you better than you knowing yourself.

Which was why you placed your chopsticks down with a silent 'thud' on your bowl.

"We need to talk," you started, mustering the most serious look on your face, not wanting him to see you lose your composure.

Riki arched an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. He leaned back in his seat and threw an arm onto the back of the chair situated on his right. The way he portrayed himself—laid-back and easy was enough to make your left eyebrow twitched subtly in mild annoyance.

"Oh? What about?" He asked, having the audacity to act like he was innocent. Especially after the bold move he pulled yesterday.

You swallowed down the tempting urge to just yell at him, knowing that will bring you nowhere. "You can't do that again, Riki. It's highly inappropriate and if Doohwa were to know, he—"

"Woah, why are you making it sound like I'm the bad guy here. If I remember correctly, you kissed me back too."

You opened and closed your mouth. Riki smirked, knowing you couldn't say anything. Not when he had you cornered and when he was merely speaking the truth.

You awkwardly cleared your throat, bringing a mixture of bacon strips and scrambled eggs into your mouth as you chewed, anything to buy yourself more time while your mind struggled to find a response.

"Regardless of who kissed who, it's still highly inappropriate, Riki. You need to understand that I'm engaged to Doohwa now," you forced yourself to speak, because you wanted him to understand that you had moved on. That your life no longer revolved around him.

Riki stared at you with an unreadable expression on his face. And then, he rose to his full height and walked round the table, heading to your direction while remaining uneasily calm. You pressed yourself against the chair, gripping onto your utensils for dear life, like it could protect you from him.

The walking definition of sin and temptation.

When he was close enough, Riki placed one hand on the back of your chair while the other smoothly slid under your chin, holding your face on his index finger.

Your body betrayed you. Your breath caught. You found yourself leaning into his touch before your mind could processed it.

"You say all that but the moment I laid my hands on you, you're all quiet," he taunts you, leaning down until the tips of your noses brushed against one another.

"Admit it, you still love me," he demanded in a soft but authoritative tone, enough to make you squeezed and rubbed your legs together.

Both of you didn't do anything at first, merely having a staring competition while daring the other party to make the first move. To let their guard down and give in to the temptation.

Clink clink!

The sound of your metal utensils dropping to the table pierced through the silence. Your hands shot out, grabbing a fistful of Riki's hoodie that had no right in making him looked more attractive than he already was. You caught the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes as you roughly tugged him down to smash your lips against his.

Riki froze for a few seconds but when he realized what was happening, he eagerly reciprocated it and easily took the lead. He moved to stand between your legs while resting his right knee on the empty space on the chair, dangerously closed to your clothed cunt.

You had to tilt your head all the way back and you knew you'll be getting a horrible neck cramp tomorrow. But right now, you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"Is this your way of saying yes?" He chuckled, mumbling the words against your lips, refusing to pull back like the distance could kill him.

"Shut up. You piss me off, you know that?" You snarled, refusing to acknowledge his question and cut off his laughter by kissing him again.

Unlike before, Riki's hands began greedily tracing the outline and silhouette of your body—trying to figure out how much you had changed. He boldly slid his large, warm hands underneath the sweatshirt—his sweatshirt, smirking into the kiss at how you subtly arched into his touch when he slid his hand up your spine, slowly and teasingly.

"You look hot when you're pissed. Maybe I should piss you more often," he joked and before you could retort with something snarky, he pulled back from the kiss, leaving a visible trail of saliva that snapped into half and sank to his knees.

You watched with bated breath, both hands gripping onto the edge of the chair you were seated on. Your breakfast was long forgotten at this point.

Riki tapped on your thigh twice and you obeyed, slightly lifting your hips up, aiding him in the removal of your—well, his, sweatpants. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you didn't worn anything underneath it.

"No panty? Dirty girl. Did you touched yourself last night?" He questioned you, not bothering to remove the sweatpants and letting it pooled around your ankles.

Riki threw your right leg over his shoulder, grabbing onto your thigh to tug you forward. You let out a surprised sound when your body slid down and lurched forward until you were in an awkward position—half-kneeling and half-sitting on the chair.

Heat crept up the back of your neck at how focused Riki was as he stared at your bare, throbbing and aching cunt that fluttered while being on the receiving end of his puma-like gaze. He didn't asked for permission or warned you, diving in like he hasn't eaten for months. His tongue darted out, licking from the opening up to your clit.

To tease you and further pushed you over the edge, he gave a light, fleeting suck that drew a loud and high-pitched broken moan from the depths of your throat.

"F-Fuck, Riki," you moaned, head tilted back until it's bent backwards over the back of the chair as you canted your hips forward, craving for more.

The older man paid you no mind as he alternated between slow, flat stripes and quick, kittenish licks, the rapid change giving you whiplash. You couldn't keep up, mind blanking out with how good he was. Not even Doohwa had gotten this far with you, even though you were already engaged.

Riki glanced up from where he knelt—between your legs, like he was a loyal worshiper. His eyes lingered on your facial expression—how you bit down on your bottom lip, how your eyes were squeezed tight and how you furrowed your eyebrows as you struggled to hold back the noises.

That won't do.

Determined to hear it, he buried his face deeper and with his other hand, he spread you apart with his middle and index fingers. You let out a strangled whine as he pushed his tongue in, moving past your wet, soaking folds.

Heck, you could even felt his nose bumping against the hood of your clit just right.

"Fuck, look at you. Riding my face like that. Has my son not done this before?" He groaned.

If Riki could, he wished to spend an eternity between your legs, having his mouth on your pussy—eating it for breakfast, lunch, tea, dinner and supper. He couldn't get enough of how sweet and addictive you taste.

The indirect mention of Doohwa's name made you let out a weak mewl, mind already too far gone as you continued rocking your hips against the sharp outline of his nose. Broken moans, gasps and chanting of Riki's name fell from your lips like a sacred prayer.

"Riki.. oh god, d-don't stop.. fuck, pleasepleaseplease," you pleaded, voice dripping with such neediness that it made his cock twitched against the loose restraints of his sweatpants.

Riki moaned, the sound muffled and the vibration against your pussy was enough for you to reach your climax. Your legs spasmed out as your entire body trembled from the overwhelming and intense feeling.

You would had kicked him right in the face if he didn't held you down by your waist firmly.

Riki didn't stopped, tongue still lapping away while ensuring not a single drop had gone wasted. Eventually, he pulled away with the bottom half of his face covered in your slick. His plump lips looked even more irresistible than it already was, making you dryly swallowed. Riki didn't broke your eye contact, wiping your slick away with the back of his right hand.

What he did next nearly made you jumped on him, right there and then.

He brought his now soaked hand to his mouth and licked your slick up, like a cat greedily lapping from a plate of milk. You couldn't looked away, like your body had betrayed you as you stared at him, in both disbelief and something else you refused to acknowledge.

Something else that is related to you wanting to kiss the living life out of him, like a vampire. As if knowing what you're thinking, Riki smirked and stood up.

"Thanks for breakfast," he simply said before walking away, leaving you seated on the chair with your sweatpants still around your ankles as you struggled to wrap your mind around the mere fact that you had crossed a line and was now in a very dangerous territory.

What's worse was the fact that you wouldn't mind doing this again.

~

Whatever happened afterwards was a blur to you. You don't remembered finishing the remains of your breakfast, washing the dishes and changing back to the dress you wore yesterday. You don't remembered getting into Riki's car as he drove you back to you and Doohwa's home. You don't remembered him sneakily slipping something—a neatly folded piece of paper into your purse before you noticed it.

At first, things were normal. Both you and Doohwa were focused on your respective work life and the never-ending list of responsibilities that came with it. Doohwa had to spend more time in the office—reason being was his company had shortlisted him for an upcoming promotion. When he told you about it, you were on cloud nine and you went all out.

You made his favorite dishes and even going the going extra mile of pulling out the bottle of red wine that was given to you from your parents as a housewarming gift. The two of you spent the entire night drinking and chatting to your hearts' content.

Things were normal, until they weren't.

"I'll get going now," you announced to your co-worker, who nodded and bid you farewell.

"Bye and have a good weekend!" She said and you smiled, throwing her words back at her as well.

You stepped out of your company, already searching for Doohwa's car when you came to a stop. Your eyes landed on a certain tall figure, who casually leaned against his car with his arms loosely crossed across his chest. There were a few passerby who did a double take when they saw him, no doubt flustered by his looks. Some even giggled and whispered among themselves, wondering whose boyfriend or husband does he belonged to.

They were completely oblivious to the truth.

You swore your face turned as pale as a ghost. As if sensing your presence, he looked up and easily located you from where he stood. Riki arched an eyebrow, watching you. It's obvious he was waiting for your next move, curious to see what you would choose: fight or flight? If this was the old you, you would had immediately turned and bolted.

But now that you had grown up and became a young woman, you chose fight. Holding your head high while ignoring how every step you took only made your heartbeat quickened, you approached him and stopped before him.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, not bothering to sound polite or even greet him. "And more importantly, how do you know where I work?"

Riki was unfazed with your bluntness and merely smirked. "Doohwa called me. Asked if I could give you a ride home. Told me he won't be coming home tonight since he needs to work hard for his promotion."

You blinked and then narrowed your eyes at him. "And why should I believe you? How do I know you're not lying?" You asked, eyeing him warily.

Sighing, the man reached into the pocket and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it, opened the Messages app and turned it to show you the messages his son had sent him. You had to squint your eyes to get a clearer look at it.

Doohwa: Hey dad, could you help to pick (Name) up after work? I won't be able to do it since I'll be working overtime… Here's her company address: XXX-XXXXXXXX.

"That piece of shit. He could've at least called me," you muttered under your breath as you moved back when you realized you were standing too close to him.

"He did. But I think your phone died. He tried calling you too but all of it went to voicemails, which was why he came to me instead," Riki answered, tucking his phone aside and pushed himself off the car he was leaning on.

"Get in, we can grab something to eat then I'll drop you off," he said, opening the passenger door for you.

A part of you wanted to walk away, stating that you don't need him to drive you home but another part of you wanted this. You ended up getting in and he closed the door after you. Riki walked round his car and got into the driver's seat. One quick scan of the black, sleek and polished design of the interior of the car told you enough.

"Looks like someone's earning a fortune," you pointed out, unable to hide the sarcasm that managed to seep into your voice.

"Oh, thanks. It's all part of the job," he casually answered and somehow, your left eyebrow twitched with how causal he said it. Like he was better than you.

You swallowed the rising and tempting urge to lose your temper and asked another question. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

You scoffed as you hugged your work bag close to your chest, like it could shield you from him. "Don't tell me you're kidnapping me or something."

Riki glanced at you and something akin to mischief twinkled in his eyes. "Relax. If I do that, we'll be heading to my place in no time."

Your cheeks burned at the implication behind his words, making you tightened your grip around your work bag. "You're disgusting."

"You say that but you literally let me eat you out."

"Riki!"

Out of all places you had in mind, you didn't expect for him to pull up in front of a familiar place. A place where it all began. You got out of the car after Riki parked it, staring at the bar with a bewildered look on your face. Footsteps approached you until he stood beside you, hands shoved into his pockets.

"What do you think? You like my surprise?" He asked, unable to hide the wide grin stretching across his face.

Your eyes darted between the name and his face. You barely managed to conceal the surprise that had already made itself known, awkwardly clearing your throat. "Don't tell me you're feeling nostalgic and decided to bring me here for a memory refresh."

He chuckled; amused and shook his shoulders. "Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows."

You frowned, clearly disliking how he's being vague. "You—"

"Ah ah, stop arguing with me. If you hate it so much, you can walk away right now. I won't stop you," he interrupted, watching you with a knowing glint.

He knew you wouldn't walked away. He knew you would stay with him. He knew you would let him do as he pleased—like what happened before. When you said nothing or didn't walked away, Riki smirked and gestured for you to walk ahead of him. You shot him a glare and if looks could kill, he would have died on the spot as you walked past him, even purposely bumping your shoulder against his, just because you're petty.

Riki said nothing as he followed you, purposely brushing his shoulder against yours. He opened the door for you, allowing you to enter and when you did, you had to pause, stand by the doorway to take in everything.

It was still the same.

There were no major changes done. The lighting, the atmosphere, the furniture and even the interior was exactly the same. You were so caught-up taking in your surroundings that you weren't even aware someone standing behind the counter spotted the two of you.

"Yo, what the—(Name)? Is that you?"

You snapped back to reality when someone called out your name over the music playing from the speakers. Before you knew it, Lee Heeseung had appeared in your sights. One look at him told you that he had aged well, just like the man currently standing beside you. Heeseung pulled you into an embrace without warning. You stilled for a few seconds but returned the hug and patted him on his back.

What you didn't know however, was how Heeseung playfully stuck his tongue out at Riki over your shoulder, causing the younger man to scowl. Heeseung broke the hug and smiled down at you, briefly and respectfully scans you from head to toe.

"Looks like adulthood's been treating you well. You grew up to be a fine woman, with all due respect, of course," he complimented you.

And you laughed for the first time today, waving off his words with a bashful smile on your face. "Stop it. You and your sweet words."

Heeseung chuckled. "What can I say? I'm a natural sweet-talker. You guys can grab yourselves some seats and if Riki wants, he can make the drinks as I'm kinda busy," he continued while pointing at his ex co-worker.

"You sure that's allowed, hyung?" Riki teased.

His ex-boss rolled his eyes. "I'm the owner of this place. What are they gonna do? Fire me? Hah, I'd like to see them try. But seriously, just do it if you want to. I need to go. Maybe we can talk again later."

Heeseung ruffled Riki's hair—much to the younger's annoyance. He gave you a friendly smile before disappearing into the sea of people. Your eyes scanned the place, managing to find an empty table and sped-walked towards it. You were the first to sit down, placing your work bag on your lap as you stared at the menu that was placed on it.

Riki, on the other hand, plopped down in the opposite seat of yours as he observed you with an unreadable look on his face. "You two look awfully cozy back there," he commented.

You didn't glanced up, scanning both the food and drinks sections. "Heeseung? Yeah, we became good friends after he made me and my friends drinks. Too bad they weren't on the house though."

"Yeah, and he's also someone who couldn't keep his hands to himself," he grumbled under his breath.

"Did you say something?" You asked, raising your head.

"Nothing. What are you planning on getting?" Riki immediately changed the subject.

You eyed him for a while but didn't brought it up, choosing to go with the flow instead. "I was thinking of getting the steak and probably something non-alcoholic for the drinks," you answered while pointing at the dish you mentioned.

Riki had to lean forward to get a closer look, his shadow being cast across both the menu and table when he does so. "Non-alcoholic? Didn't take you as the boring type."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You glared at him for the unknown time.

Seeing your reaction, he smirked—knowing he had you right where he wanted you to be. "I'm just saying. Non-alcoholic on a Friday? C'mon, it's a Saturday tomorrow. You need to loosen up a little. Unless you're scared."

The last word nearly made you see red.

"Scared? Oh, I'll show you what scared really looks like," you retorted.

Riki smirked as he stood up. "That's my girl. Be right back. I'll make your order."

Before you could say anything, he headed backdoor to where only staff was granted access, leaving you seated by the table, cheeks flushed at how he had called you his girl.

~

"Wait—!"

You weakly protested but your voice died down in your throat when Riki moved abruptly.

Bam!

The door slammed shut behind you as he used his weight to pin it closed. The sound echoed throughout the quiet and still apartment. His hands grabbed both sides of your head as he maneuvered you backward until your back was against the wall, trapping you there—not hurting or rough but desperate. His breathing was uneven now, chest rising and dropping fast as his forehead briefly dropped to yours, like he was fighting to control himself.

To control himself.

"Don't. Don't say anything," he said in a hoarse voice.

And he kissed you.

It was frantic, nothing like the controlled restraint he had shown before or the way he kissed you back then. This was different. More intense. More needy. More desperate. His mouth moved hungrily against yours, like he wanted to swallow you whole. Like he couldn't bear the thought of watching you letting someone else that's not him talking to you, making you laughed and smiled freely.

Riki's hand slid down to your jaw, thumb pressing there with poorly contained tension as he deepened the kiss, angling your head to the side, like he knew exactly how to steal your breath. Your palms were sweating profusely, mind spinning from the remaining alcohol in your veins and you felt unusually warm.

But, you couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why.

You tried to break the kiss, tried to stop him but Riki was stubborn. He growled, impatient and frustrated when you repeatedly delivered light whacks to his shoulders.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was? Watching you smile at Heeseung like that? How you kept entertaining him?" He murmured against your lips between each kisses, voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine and the all-too familiar sensation of heat pooling in your stomach.

It's like your body only reacted this way when you're with Riki and not Doohwa.

You barely had time to process it before he kissed you again, slower this time but the intensity behind it remained the same, enough for you to openly and wetly pant against his lips. It felt possessive now, more deliberate—like he was reminding the both of you who was here first. Who still remembered.

His other hand rested at your waist, grounding and anchoring you to him, like he was afraid you will disappear the moment he loosened his grip.

"Every time hyung talked to you, you looked at ease. Like it was nothing. And I was right there, pretending it doesn't get under my skin," he continued quietly, jealousy bleeding through despite his best, futile attempts to keep it buried.

He rested his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling as you two breathed in the same space. You couldn't looked away, not when his eyes were dark and searching. Searching for any signs of you not wanting this, before it was too late.

"But it did. It got under my skin," he admitted.

"Ri—!"

You didn't managed to utter out his full name as he kissed you once more—not rushed or frantic, but full of weight and meaning, like a confession he could no longer keep inside. You couldn't keep up with him, not when your legs threatened to give way. You would've toppled to the ground if Riki didn't steadied you in the nick of time.

And then, your vision was tilted to the left.

Riki easily carried you in his arms bridal-style and headed to the bedroom—not the guestroom but to his own bedroom. Instead of placing or throwing you onto his bed, he pinned you against the wall the moment you stepped foot into the room, kissing you until you're breathless and your lips were swollen. You let him removed your clothes—the black blazer you wore to protect yourself from the cold, leaving you in your inner, plain black blouse and loose, black pants.

With lots of self-control behind it, he broke the kiss, chuckling at the disappointed whine you made at the sudden distance. He stopped you when you chased after him, causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him, confused with his intention.

"Get on your knees for me, doll," he demanded, voice firm and authoritative—leaving no room for objections.

Not that you were planning on going against him in the first place.

You compiled, involuntarily shivering at the usage of the pet-name—the very one he used back then. Your clothed knees hit the carpeted floor of his bedroom, sweaty palms resting on your lap as you looked up at him. Riki looked down at you and seeing you like this—willingly on your knees while batting your eyelashes at him, unaware of the effect you have on him.

"Fuck, you look pretty like this," he breathed out, resting his hand on top of your head as he grabbed a fistful of your hair with his fingers.

"Go on, I don't have all day," he drawled, cocking his head to the side as he looked down at you expectantly.

Your eyes darted between his face and the visible bludge in his pants that's right before you. To test the water, you raised your trembling hands. Out of excitement or nervousness, you weren't sure and you pulled the zipper down slowly. The sound of it being tugged down was loud, echoing throughout the four walls of the room, a foreshadowing of what's to come.

Riki didn't moved, watching and letting you pulled his pants and Chrome Hearts boxers until it's low enough, finally freeing his hardened cock proudly standing upright. Riki shivered at the light, fleeting sensation fo the cool wind brushing against his sensitive cock. Precum formed at the tip. You had to pause for a moment, unable to conceal the surprise that appeared in your eyes at how… well, huge he had gotten.

The last time you had sex with him, he wasn't even this big yet. It's times like these where you get reminded that the man standing before you now was longer the same as before.

Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you scooted forward on your knees, so you can get closer without having to strain your neck. Instead of wasting time with foreplay or teasing him, you jumped right in. You swallowed him in one go, your gag reflex being non-existent. You slacked your jaw, pushing forward while ignoring the way your throat convulsed around the thick grith of his cock.

Riki groaned, head falling back to reveal his neck with his veins popping out. "Fuck, your mouth's still so good."

You moaned, the sound muffled and sending vibrations down the length of his cock, drawing a curse from the man above you. You began bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks as you traced the protruding veins along the sides of his cock. You even reached out to caress his heavy balls, grazing your nails against the outline, causing his thighs to twitch at the mere contact.

With borderline shaking hands, Riki managed to pull out his phone from the pockets of his pants. What was supposed to be an easy task of unlocking the device and opening the camera app proved to be a difficult task. Especially with how warm and tight your mouth felt. He couldn't stopped replaying the image of you taking him whole without gagging in his mind, like it was on loop.

"Fuck," he hissed through his gritted teeth and clenched jaw at a particular harsh from you.

You chose that moment to pull away, making an audible "pop" sound and pressed your lips against the mushroomy tip, lips curled up in a smile at how it visibly twitched in your grip.

"What's wrong? Can't unlock your phone?" You cooed, teasing and taunting him. "Need some help?"

Riki paused and looked down at you, phone held in his left hand. The next thing you knew, he roughly tugged you forward by using your hair as the reins, until the tip was pressed against your lips, but you refused to let him in, stubbornly keeping your mouth closed. His eyes hardened at your disobedience.

"You forgot you're not the one in-charge here, doll," he snarled, giving another tug of your hair as your head jerked backward at an awkward angle where you're forced to look at him.

"Open up. Or else," he warned you.

Your mouth instinctively opened and this time, Riki was well-prepared. He held his phone before him, the camera app already opened. He clicked the record button and the timer went off as he filmed him shoving you down on his cock. His sudden action elicited a muffled, choking sound from you. Your eyes widened with tears prickling at the corners, blurring your vision slightly but Riki didn't cared.

He thrusted into your mouth, not giving a damn about your comfort as he used you as a fleshlight while chasing after his pleasure. He didn't cared that you were drooling as well, with it trickling down your widely-stretched mouth. Some even rolled down to his balls. The temperature difference of your warm and thick saliva against his cool and tight balls sent shivers down his spine.

Riki couldn't tear his eyes away from the video as he recorded your fucked-out facial expression—your half-lidded teary eyes, your lips obscenely stretched wide to accommodate the thick grith of his cock in your mouth and how he could even see the outline of himself down your throat at every snap of his hips. You could barely breathed, having to inhale and exhale through your nose.

He didn't warned you as he spilled hot and thick cum down your throat, painting it in the shade of white. You weren't even fazed with the salty taste in your mouth, letting it rest on your tongue, waiting for his permission for you to swallow it. Riki pulled his now limp cock out of your bruised, swollen lips with a loud "pop" sound. He tilted your face up with his thumb on your chin, zooming in with two fingers until it's focused on your mouth.

"Open your mouth. Let me see it," he cooed.

You obeyed him, opening your mouth as wide as you can and then, he shoved two fingers down your throat without hesitation. You audibly gagged on it, your throat tightening around the sudden intrusion. This time, tears rolled down your face as he dipped his fingers into the mini pool of cum resting on your tongue before spreading it over your entire mouth, ensuring every inch was covered in it, like he was spreading butter on bread.

Satisfied, Riki withdrew his saliva-coated fingers but instead of wiping it clean, he returned to his previous position—thumb on your chin. You still had your mouth opened, looking at him with wide and innocent eyes.

Except you were anything but innocent.

You thought he'd asked you to swallow but he moved, bending over at waist level with his phone angled out of the way but he was still recording you. You let him further tilt your chin back and then—

Spat.

Your heart stopped beating. Riki had just spit into your mouth. He knowingly smirked at your reaction—how your brain malfunctioned on the spot. He tapped twice on your bottom lip with his index finger—the very same finger that was in your mouth a few minutes ago.

"Swallow it," he demanded.

And who were you to say no?

You obeyed, making a show of you swallowing everything—his cum and his saliva. When you did, you parted your lips to show your now cleaned mouth and he nodded, satisfied. Riki stopped the recording, pocketing his phone. He pulled you up to your feet to capture your lips in a intense, feverish kiss, not caring that he's able to taste himself on your lips which only further intensified the feeling.

He turned you around and made you moved backward until your knees knocked into the side of the bed. You fell backward onto the clean, neat and tidy sheets with a 'thud' sound. Riki was quick to be on top of you and trailed kisses down your neck, drawing a soft and pleased sigh from you. You tilted your head back, eyes closed in bliss with your chest pressed against his.

"Can I take this off?" He asked, voice unusually soft despite the rough way he manhandled you a few minutes ago.

You blinked but nodded your head. "Y-Yeah, you can."

Your ears turned red at how you stuttered but thankfully, Riki didn't comment on it. He finished unbuttoning the rest of the buttons of your blouse and you lifted yourself up from the sheets, allowing him to slide it off until the fabric is brunched around your elbows.

He quickly made quick work of his clothes, stripping until he's naked. Your eyes flicked down and you saw it—a red kiss mark tattoo on the side of his stomach. Your eyes lingered longer than usual but you forced yourself to look away. However, you knew you were caught red-handed with the knowing smirk Riki sent you.

"Like what you see?" He asked, voice low and deep.

You couldn't helped yourself, pushing yourself up to get a closer look. You reached out but your hands froze mid-air, looking at him, waiting for permission. Riki nodded and you took that as your sign, resting your right palm above the tattoo. You traced the outline of it with your fingers, ears registering the sharp inhale from Riki.

"You… When did you get this?" You murmured, voice soft.

"I got it when we were still…" His voice trailed off but you knew what he wanted to say.

When we were still having that friends-with-benefits relationship.

Riki awkwardly cleared his throat, resting his hand above yours—completely covering your hand from his view.

"What do you think? Do you like it?" He asked. If you were to listen closely, you could detect shyness behind it—like a young boy seeking approval from his mother.

You didn't answered him verbally, choosing to answer with your action instead. You gently pried his hand away from the tattoo, able to feel his confusion but it vanished when you leaned forward, pressing your lips against it, in the exact same position and angle.

The mere contact of your plush but still swollen lips against the kiss mark tattoo made him visibly jolt. Riki's breath hitched in his throat, eyes widening with genuine surprise at your unpredicted and bold action. You let your lips lingered against it for a while before pulling away. Riki snapped back to reality and cupped your face, kissing you with neediness that it made your head spun.

You let him pushed you back until you were laying on the bed. Riki broke the kiss, taking in the sight of you laying beneath him with your hair spread out like a messy halo. Feeling flustered with his gaze, you covered the bottom half of your face with the back of your palm, eyes averted to the side. But Riki clicked his tongue in disapproval. He reached out, grabbed your hand and pinned it on your left, smoothly intertwining your fingers together.

"Don't hide from me. You're beautiful," he reassured you, eyes filled with nothing but utmost sincerity.

You stared at him, taken aback by how honest he was. You didn't know how to respond and merely meekly nodded your head, not trusting in your voice. Riki chuckled, amused with your reaction. He didn't completely removed your blouse, leaving it hanging around your elbows as he made quick work of your pants, now leaving you in your matching set of underwear—a plain, black set of bra and lace panties.

Riki tossed your pants onto the floor, eyes zoned in on the evident wet spot, right over where your pussy was. He rested a finger on the wet spot, moving it upward with his eyes on your face—observing your reaction. He faintly smirked at how you gasped, hips canting forward, craving more of it.

Tugging the soaked and thin fabric aside, he let out a low and impressed whistle at how your pussy was drenched, with visible, thick and sticky strings of your arousal being stretched to the side, along with the movement.

"Look at you, already drippin' for me," he breathed out, amazed with how wet you are as his finger inched closer, now fully touching your bare pussy, savoring the little and soft whimpers spilling from your lips.

"Too bad that useless son of mine doesn't know how sweet you taste."

The moment he finished speaking, Riki dived in. He flattened his tongue as he ran it along your puffy, dripping folds, collecting your slick that couldn't stopped dripping. The sheer contact of his rough tongue against your sensitive pussy drew a loud and shameless moan from you.

Your back arched off the bed, legs now tightly wrapped around his head, locking him in place. You were worried that you were suffocating him but the thought flew out of your mind when he pushed not one, but two fingers in until he was knuckles-deep in.

Riki had to control himself when he felt how tight you were around his fingers, making him wonder: would you be able to take his cock? But as the saying goes, 'if there's a will, there's a way'.

The double penetration of his tongue and fingers made you see stars exploding behind your eyelids. Riki easily located that delicate spot located against your gummy and velvety walls. He expertly curled his fingers in just the right angle, drawing more angelic sounds from your lips.

"Ngh—F-Fuck, Riki, oh god," you moaned, throwing all ounces of shame and self-discipline out of the window at how he pressed his thumb down on the hood of your clit before moving it in a slow, circular motion in clockwise direction.

You weren't even aware that you started fucking yourself back on his fingers as he pumped them in and out at a steady interval. The bedroom was filled with your moans and the lewd sounds of him eating you out like there's no tomorrow. You couldn't registered what you were saying. It could be his name or you blabbering anything that sounded suspiciously like please and more.

Whatever it was, it seemed to have an effect on Riki with how he audibly moaned into your pussy, burying his face deeper like he wants to die between your legs with his tongue tasting your slick, treating it like sweet nectar from a sunflower.

"G-Gonna cum," you panted, warning him while trying to push him away but Riki was persistent. He ignored your weak and feeble attempts to shove him away as he continued to abuse your poor pussy.

All it took was for him to move his fingers in a scissors-like motion, spreading you opened and a slow, teasing flick with the tip of his tongue for you to come undone. Your stomach muscles tightened from the orgasm as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. Riki still didn't moved away, relentlessly eating you through your climax. It was only when you went pliant against the sheets was when he finally let you breathe.

He pushed himself up onto his knees, his pink tongue darting out to lick at the wetness coating his thick and plump lips. "Fuck, have you had sex with Doohwa before?" He asked.

The sudden question right after he gave you the most intense orgasm of your life made you stared at him, like he had spoken in a different language. It took you a few seconds for your mind to catch up and you shook your head, still in a daze.

"No, we didn't. We only kissed and made out, that's all. Never gone further than that," you admitted, oblivious to how your words made something in Riki twitched.

"So, he hasn't touched you here before?" He asked, scooting closer and boldly cupped your bare, overly-sensitive pussy, drawing a soft whine from you at the sudden contact.

Again, you shook your head but he wasn't pleased with the lack of verbal response.

"I needs words, doll. Answer me," he instructed, pushing the tip of his index finger back in, watching as how your head fell backward.

"N-No, he didn't—nonono!" You cried out at how he pulled his finger out, ignoring the way you pathetically clenched down on him, attempting to make him stay.

Riki lets out a dark and low laugh at the crestfallen look on your face and let out a faux coo, even furrowing his eyebrows in faux concern and pity. "Aw, poor baby. Sure you want my fingers?" He asked, chuckling at how you eagerly nodded your head, eyes half-lidded.

"Are you sure? Thought you want my cock instead," he continued.

The way your eyes widened and lit up at his words nearly made him laughed, if it wasn't for the mood of the current situation. Riki moved you upward until your head was resting on a pillow.

He placed another pillow underneath your hips as he situated himself between your spread out legs. He couldn't get enough with how sinful you looked—laying there while looking at him with wide and doe-like eyes, ready to take him.

Ready for you to become his.

Riki forgo the condoms as he didn't have them anymore. Not after he had Doohwa with one of his one-night stands. He reached over the bed, picking up his phone. This time, he was able to easily unlocked it and opened the camera app, pressing the record button.

He tilted the phone down, ensuring to capture the angle of him aligning himself against your weeping entrance but instead of pushing in, he rubbed the tip against your folds, collecting your slick as he coated it over his cock, acting as temporary lube.

"Beg for it, darling. Wanna hear you beg," he said, the recording perfectly capturing everything.

You whined, fingers gripping onto the pillow beneath your head with your nails digging into it. You tried to cant your hips forward, hoping he could just slide in but Riki held you down by your hips, his strength easily overwhelming yours.

"I say beg for it. Show me how much of a desperate woman you are, wanting someone else's cock instead of your fiance," he taunts, his crude words drawing a pitiful and needy whimper from you.

"P-Please, wan' you," you begged, frustrated tears burning in your eyes but Riki didn't gave in.

Not yet. He wants to push you further.

"Try again. You can do better."

You sniffled pathetically. At this point, your mind was no longer intact within your body. Which was why you barely comprehend the words that slipped from your mouth, like it was nothing.

"Please daddy, wan' your cock," you pleaded and fuck, the way you addressed him. That one singular word struck something deep and feral in Riki.

He didn't dropped his phone or stopped the recording. Instead, you felt his hard, thick cock pressed up adjacent in your cervix in a singular shove, his chest heaving up and down erratically as desire gleamed in his dazed eyes.

You felt the air being punched out of your lungs with how deep his cock was. You swore he could hit the entrance to your womb—something you didn't know was possible.

Until now.

"Shit, you're so tight," he cursed, zooming in to capture the lewd moment of your pussy lips stretched obscenely wide around the grith of his cock.

"Ki, move, please" you whispered.

Riki raised an eyebrow. "No, that's not what you called me just now."

You looked at him, mind struggling to process his words and that's when it hit you. Riki hummed at your hesitation.

"Guess you don't want it then," he shrugged his shoulders, pretending he was about to pull out but as he expected, you stopped him.

"No, don't!" You protested.

"Yes? What do you want, doll? Use your words," he coaxed you, ensuring that your face wasn't captured in the recording.

You paused for a few seconds, trying to pluck up the remains of your close to non-existent courage. "Please fuck me… daddy."

Riki audibly groaned at the last word, his cock twitched inside of you. He pulled out until his tip is still inside you and then pushed back in, slamming his hips against yours.

His balls slapped against your ass cheeks with every deep and harsh thrust from him. The older man grit his teeth at how you tightened around him.

He changed the angle slightly, easily finding the same spongy spot and wasted no time in abusing it, the tip of his cock kissing it with every thrust.

The new change of angle drew more high-pitched and breathless moans from you as you lay there, body shuffling up and down.

The bed-frame kept smacking against the wall with a series of loud and heavy thud, thud, thud.

You weren't even sure if Riki's neighbors were around but you hoped they weren't. Not with how loud you were being.

"Takin' me so well. You're made for me, aren't you?" He groaned, tossing his phone aside but he didn't stopped the recording. It landed camera down on the sheets and now, it was merely recording the loud, lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin.

Riki looked down, smirking when he saw a ring of white, thick liquid forming at the base of his cock. He reached out, hand spreading your fat pussy lips apart, watching as you took more of him.

"Ngh, d-daddy—hah, please, moremoremore," you chanted, eyes rolling up to the back of your head.

Riki lets out a breathless chuckle, leaning down so he can whisper into your ear, hand still spreading you apart for him. He didn't slowed down, still maintaining the ruthless pace he set earlier.

"Bet he won't fuck you this good, would he? Maybe I should show him the clips, hm? Show him how much of a slut you are, letting his dad fuck you. Begging for an older man's cock when you're engaged," he downright sneered, his words drawing a needy mewl from you and he continued.

"If you didn't walked away, you would had this a long time ago," he murmured under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself.

Riki's eyes trailed down to your stomach, able to make-out the faint outline of his cock. He watched as the bump moved up and down, along with him.

Seeing your stomach having a bulge because of him made his mind spin. Thoughts start to creep in—how would you looked carrying his child? Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they have your eyes, your smile and your laugh?

Just the thought of you being pregnant with his child is enough to give him a newfound motivation. The motivation to knock you up and doing this behind his beloved son's back only made it even more tempting and sinful.

"You'd like it, don't you? Carrying my kids, pretending you aren't getting fucked by his own father," he taunts, words dripping with nothing but mockery. But to you, it felt good, in a way you couldn't described.

You couldn't speak, not when you felt the all-too familiar sensation of your stomach tightening. Riki knew you were close, with how your breathing grew more ragged and heavier. He buried himself up to the hilt and you tipped over the edge.

Your mouth dropped open, forming a silent 'O' shape as your pussy convulsed around his cock, milking him dry as he followed suit—spilling thick and hot semen, painting your creamy walls white.

Marking you as his.

You laid on the stained sheets, mind too far gone and too exhausted to move your limbs or even raised a single finger. Riki, on the other hand, didn't pulled out. His cock was still inside of you. The only form of warning you got was him flipping you over until you were pathetically on your hands and knees, that were trembling, barely able to contain your weight.

Riki draped himself over you, his chest pressed against your back with his chin resting on your shoulder. His hand trailed down, gently running his hands along your pussy lips, savoring the way you shivered and how you unconsciously leaned into his touch.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet, doll. We need to make up for the lost time," he whispered into your ears and that's when you knew, you were in for a long, long night.

~

You told yourself that would be the final time you do… whatever this is with Riki. But no matter what you were doing—be it working, spending time with Doohwa or planning your wedding ceremony, your mind couldn't stopped thinking about him. Couldn't stopped thinking about the way his hands touched your body, knowing exactly where to touch, to make you crumble before him, reducing you to a flushed and pliant mess.

To make matters worse, Doohwa was constantly away—due to him gradually spending more time in his office while desperately chasing after his promotion. This only gave you the perfect excuse to keep this up. While your fiance was busy working with his life put on the line, you were busy… well, getting the best fucking of your life.

You should feel guilty for doing something as unforgivable as cheating on him. But then again, whenever you looked at Riki or when the two of you are alone in the same room, it was like gravity had pulled you together. Clothes were hurriedly removed, like they were nothing but nuisances and were getting in the way.

You had ran out of fingers and toes to count how many times Riki had you moaning his name. As far as you were aware, he had taken you on every possible flat surface in his apartment—the kitchen counter, the many walls he has, the dining table and the list goes on. Heck, you even found out that you were quite flexible too, with how he had you in a mating press or with your ankles nearly pressed against your ears as you were forced to take his cock, over and over again.

Time slipped past in a blur and before you knew it, the day had officially arrived.

The day of your wedding.

Normally, the bride would be thrilled or over the moon at the thought of finally being wedded to their fiance—who will soon be their husband. However, you were feeling anything but joy. You couldn't hear the compliments thrown your way from your family or friends. You couldn't hear the well wishes that fell from their lips and how some were borderline tearing up.

Currently, you were in the bridal suite after spending the past two to three hours letting the make-up artists and stylists making you as beautiful as possible, until you couldn't recognized the woman in the reflection. You stared at yourself, like you were looking at a complete stranger. The make-up wasn't bad in any way but what they didn't know was the sea of emotions in your heart and mind.

"You look gorgeous."

You instantly snapped your head to the door and there he was, standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his black pants. Just like everyone else, Riki had wore a tailored-made suit but somehow, he was able to pull off the look effortlessly, making him looked like he was a model ready to walk the runway soon.

And of course, he chose today to wear the glasses. A pair of black-rimmed glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. The very same glasses that made you lost your mind when you saw him wore it for the first time, resulting in you eagerly sinking to your knees when he was having an online meeting as you unbuckled his pants and—

"You're not supposed to be here!" You exclaimed, rising from your feet, pulling your long wedding dress up to not trip over it as you approached him.

Riki chuckled, not moving from his spot. "It's fine, I'm not the one you're marrying so the rule doesn't apply to me," he paused briefly, letting his eyes roamed down your figure without any ounce of shame and he stepped forward, causing your breath to hitch.

"And besides, I have a very special surprise for you," he murmured, lowering his head to brush his lips against yours, approval glimmered in his eyes when you didn't pushed him away.

You nervously gulped. "…What kind of surprise is it?"

Riki straightened himself and stepped away. "Now telling you will ruin it. But don't worry, it's not something bad."

He sniggered at your bemused expression and bid you farewell as he left the suite, gently closing the door behind him.

After the guests had taken their seats, the ceremony kicked off. The doors opened, revealing your father, wearing a suit, on the other side of the door. He stared at you in shock before his eyes softened—which only made you felt even worse, like you were about to vomit right there and then. Still, you mustered the best smile you can, slipping your hand around his arm as the two of you—father and daughter, began walking to the room where everyone was waiting.

Everyone with Riki included as well.

Soon, you arrived before a closed pair of doors. You tightened your grip on your father's arm, who rested his hand above yours, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure you. The staff took that as their sign to open the doors and countless eyes instantly snapped to your direction. The guests rose from their seats, clapping and some even started throwing flowers as your father walked you down the aisle.

You looked to the front—seeing Doohwa wearing a suit and from the looks of his face and glossy eyes, he was on the verge of bursting into happy tears. You instinctively looked towards Riki, who stood a few feet away and the sight of his expression—calm and knowing, made you felt unsettled. His words replayed in your mind and you quickly looked away, pretending to not noticed the way he smirked at your reaction.

You reached the end of the aisle and robotically climbed up the small flight of stairs, with the staff helping you by lifting the back of your long dress and veil up. And then, you found yourself standing before Doohwa with the officiant now making his appearance as he stood between the two of you, a smile on his face.

"Today, we are gathered here to…"

You tuned out the rest of the wedding vows. Physically, you were looking at Doohwa while holding his hands but mentally, you were thinking about someone else. Someone who was not him, your future husband. The man who you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. Your eyes flicked down to your stomach, resisting the urge to touch it as you didn't want to draw any attention to it but you knew something had shifted inside you.

Something that was related to you possibly being pregnant with Riki's child.

"..you agreed to take (Name) as your wife?" The officiant asked, directing the question to Doohwa, snapping you back to reality.

"I do," he answered without missing a beat. Without hesitation and you envied him.

"And you, (Name), do you agreed to take Doohwa as your husband?" He asked.

Everyone waited for your response, practically at the edges of their seats.

"I—" You opened your mouth and then, Riki made his move.

The screen on your right, which was playing a simple but romantic backstory of how the two of you met turned into a black screen. The crowd was confused as they murmured among themselves. At first, they assumed it was a techinal difficulty and that's when you saw something that made your heart dropped.

It was an audio.

The sound of skin slapping against skin, moans—your moans and Riki's grunts played from the speakers. Everyone in the room went still, unable to believe what they were hearing. Some of the parents rushed to cover their children's ears, to protect their innocence. Some were downright revolted as they quickly connect the dots, their previous happy expressions was now replaced with disappointment and resentment.

You couldn't find it in yourself to look at Doohwa, not wanting to face him after the secret you had hide with you for so long, was now revealed to the public. The audio went on for a few more seconds before it was cut off.

Silence.

Doohwa turned to you, his hands slipping from yours.

"What…?" His voice cracked but he regained his composure, expression now cold and void of any emotion. "Explain yourself."

You couldn't say a thing. Your vision blurred, the white of the ceremony, the flowers and the guests. Everything melted into indistinct shapes. You were now at the center of attention but for the wrong reasons. The echo of the audio still rang in your ears, like it was mocking you.

"I asked you something! Explain yourself," he demanded, taking a step closer, his shoulders trembling as he seethed with rage.

When you still didn't speak, his disbelief was replaced with something else—anger and just like the crowd, disgust.

"You slept with him. You fucking slept with my father," he spat out, each word sharp enough to draw blood if he were to mold it into a weapon.

Gasps rippled through the room. Whispers turned into murmurs and murmurs turned into silent but hostile judgment.

"You dare to stand in front of me, promising me forever and letting me put a ring on you, knowing you're with him," he continued, voice cracking the more he spoke and you were tempted to say something, anything.

But, what could you possibly say when all he said was the truth?

This time, tears freely rolled down your cheeks, not caring that your make-up was smudged. And until now, you didn't know what you could say to defend yourself.

"How could you!? How could you cheat on me? How could you do this?" He was shouting at the top of his lungs now.

And his outburst was a signal to the crowd, allowing them to freely voiced their uncensored thoughts.

"Shameless."

"How vile."

"She trapped him."

"No morals at all."

Each word struck you harder than anything else.

Your chest felt tight, breath shallow. You could feel the walls gradually closing in as the weight of every stare and every words bore down on you, until your legs were trembling below your dress. Someone laughed—short and derisive. Someone else cursed under their breath. Someone pulled out their phone, no doubt recording the whole thing.

You couldn't breathe.

"I—I didn't—" Your voice broke. "It wasn't—"

But no one wanted to hear it. Not when you had been painted as the villain.

You turned and ran. Your heels echoed sharply against the marbled floor as you fled down the aisle that was meant for vows, past the flowers, past the life you were supposed to have. Insults followed you like a swarm of angered bees—spatting words at you, anger, betrayal and disgust. The doors burst opened as you shoved through them, cold air hitting your face as you stumbled out, lungs burning as you gasped for breath.

And then—

"Did you like my surprise?"

You stilled, knowing who it was without turning around. But still, you slowly turned around, like how a ghost would be in a horror movie. Riki stood a few feet away from you—as cool and collected as always but this time, there was something dark and twisted in both his eyes and expression. Like he had planned this. Like he knew this will happened.

"You… You ruined my life," you accused while pointing at him.

The man merely blinked. "Don't put all of the blame on me, doll. You agreed to it. You were the one who willingly came to me too, so you don't get to act innocent."

You flinched, physically recoiling like a hostile cat. "I—"

Riki barked out a cold, humorless laugh as he closed the remaining distance, invading your invisible and personal line. He cupped your face, tilting your head back, forcing you to meet his eyes. "How about this: you come with me and we move to another country?"

"What?"

He let out a condescending sigh, like he was talking to a child. "Since you're no longer wanted here, you should come with me. We can move to Australia. I have a job offer there where I'm needed to work on a long-term project. Come with me and I can take care of the both of you."

Your breath hitched at the word 'both'. "How did you—"

"Did you think I'm someone who does things without planning them?" He cuts you off, getting the front-row seat of watching as realization hits you.

Your eyes widened, lips parting as you stared at him in horror and disbelief. "You… You planned all of this from the start? You made me carry your child and now you want to kidnap me? Taking me away from the people I love?"

Riki had the audacity to roll his eyes. "People you love? Oh please, they don't even loved you anymore. Not after what they just heard."

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, teeth grinding down on one another so hard that you would have shattered a tooth. "…What do you want from me?"

"Simple. I want you to come with me. And once you do, you won't regret it," he said, resting one hand on your waist.

You swallowed hard.

Your eyes flicked past him—to the now closed doors that you were facing thirty minutes ago, before your life flipped upside down. The whispers hasn't stopped. You could still feel them crawling under your skin, rewriting you into something ugly and unforgivable.

"I can't. There's nothing left for me if I go with you," you whispered but you didn't freed yourself from his grasp.

He leaned in, close enough for him to whisper into your ear. "There's nothing left for you if you don't come with me."

The last thread snapped. You thought of Doohwa's eyes when he looked at you a few moments ago. Of the ring that now felt heavier than before. Of how the word love had been stripped of meaning in front of everyone you knew.

And most importantly, the public humiliation you just suffered.

You laughed, hollow and broken. "You sure I won't regret it?" You asked, despite knowing his answer doesn't matter, not when he had you in the palm of his hands.

Riki didn't hesitate, just like Doohwa. "I swear."

You nodded.

The moment you did, his grip tightened. It wasn't painful but it was full of certainty. Possessive. Like he knew all along that you will say yes. He guided you away from the room, hand still holding your waist as he dragged you to the backdoor, where his car was intentionally parked there.

You didn't looked behind you.

As you disappeared into the car with him, the door closed with a final and resolute thud, only one thought quietly echoed in your mind:

You didn't know whether you had saved yourself or you had willingly stepped into something far worse.

taglist: @lolliloopsy, @v4mpriki, @yvampyr, @heesmiles, @gyuzies, @sweethoons, @hoonsocks, @nishimurmur, @rikisoup, @blindingvenomss, @miauumin, @fancypeacepersona, @si3rren, @yenienha, @ouldiplomatpapershark, @wondash, @iveivory, @gigitastic, @nishimurarizzler, @everythingjp, @hoonkitti, @rikisoup, @dollhoonki, @heesmiles, @hoonsocks, @redtearsblog, @si3rren.

[heeyunlv]

Crying, throwing up, screaming. I am absolutely devastated. Bro heeseung being one of my bias and now he’s leaving the group ? There is NO enhypen without heeseung. I just can’t process this like WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE LEFT THE GROUP gtfoo…

[caramiuu]

FUCK U MEAN HEESEUNG IS LEAVING WHAT THE HELL

[02shuuu]

no cause this genuinely makes no sense. they had so many group activities planned, merch that was planned had to be recalled and rescheduled because of this, heeseung literally said he wants to be with enhypen forever YESTERDAY. the announcement coming out of nowhere on a random tuesday at 4pm. smth is not right about this

[jensetolies]

OMG I am sure you are getting a lot of these asks but what does enhypen feel about heeseung leaving enhypen? Is it something they expected and something they are sad about?

ENHYPEN — how do the members feel about heeseung leaving reading!

JAY

He seems shocked but i feel like something has been building up for some time behind the scenes, like maybe heeseung has been getting tired of it all so jay is seeing this as a sort of relie? this seems a little strange, but he does seem to feel a little relieved it’s like "you’ve been wanting this for so long you finally have it go now". He has a heavy feeling regarding in the group dynamic because it has clearly shifted. But again with jay it feels like he's watching heeseung complete something that he's been thinking about doing it it a little bitter.

This whole situation clearly disrupted what he imagined & planned for the groups future, so while he knew heeseung would have maybe cracked at some point he probably didn't expect it to be now, also jay feels like he has no control over the situation which ia stressing him out. It seems like he's trying to understand the logic behind what the hell is happening & he's questioning stuff in his head. I feel like he's already trying to accept things & move forward but it's clear that he's unsettled by it all.

He does feel conflicted & all but he's also ultimately understanding. Heeseung leaving has definitely broken his balance though and he’s not particularly happy about that, he's used to the group so him leaving is disrupting a lot for him not just professionally but also personally. He might have initially felt frustrated by it because he really does think about the group and it's long term plans & stability. He doesn’t fully agree with the decision, he might respect that heeseung has his own direction & all but it's not easy.

It seems like emotionally he's already feeling the absence pretty :(. He recognizes how much responsibility & influence heeseung has had within the group professionally but also as the eldest member for the rest. I feel like jays reaction is him immediately trying to step up more himself to stabilize things for the other members

JAKE

Well jake is much more emotional. To jake it's like a chapter of his life that was most definitely supposed to last longer just suddenly stopped, which has given him this sort of ache? His energy is disappointed, he's also confused about the direction that the group is heading to now because whatever he was imaging in his mind was just wiped out like that immediately. He seems to be struggling with his feelings because him leaving unexpectedly has put jake in his head immediately, like he's already thinking about how it could have been different, he's spending a lot of time in his head :(.

Though while yes he's sad & confused he's showing me this emotional strength like he's trying to convince himself that this change isn't all that bad cause it'll help him grow & all so he's trying to adapt to the situation & trying to support the other members.

Jake as a person takes his relationships with the other members as something important so heeseung just suddenly leaving makes him feel like he lost something, like what about what they've gone through together? He's having a hard time understanding why this had to happen now, literally at what he thinks is their peak, he's also trying to analyze heeseung ls behavior before this to understand what the hell was going through his head to do this he’s not happy about his decision 

SUNGHOON

Well for him i will say it's pretty layerd / complicated emotionally. I feel like on the surface he's trying to look calm & composed but inside he's also handling a lot of thoughts & thinking & feelings. To sunghoon it's that heeseung leaving is going to change so much stuff in his life both in the professional aspect, group dynamics but even for sunghoon personally because heeseung has always been someone he relied on & trusted deeply, I'm not saying they won't be friends anymore and he can't seek heeseung out but it's clear that it's going to be different from now on they’re not going to have that relationship they had while he was still in the group. I’m sorry that’s gone. 

He's also pretty confused,uncertain about what caused this situation, clearly heeseung hasn't gone into the details behind why he left with his fellow members personally. Anyways sunghoon is trying to handle this situation as quietly as possible.

I do feel like he's somewhat supportive towards heeseung & his decision to leave mostly because of how mature he is. He's not happy about it matter of fact he seems highly disappointed but he's trying to hold back. I don't understand why but i feel like sunghoon is already subconsciously thinking that their relationship is over if he's truly gone for good :((((

He seems really sad actually but he's being very private & quiet about it all, he sees heeseung as someone really meaningful to the group & now they lost him so it's causing him some grief. He is questioning heeseung & what he did especially the time in which he took this decision because it's like why couldn't you wait a little longer?

SUNOO

Definitely the most sensitive one regarding this whole situation. He seems really confused about it all & he also seems completely blindsided by this situation like I'm not saying he figured it out today because I'm sure the conversation regarding heeseung was held before but even then he didn't understand where & why he came up with that decision. He thinks something happened behind the scenes that he's not aware of & is trying to get what he didn't understand.

This situation is really worrying him about the stability of the group but honestly he seems mostly worried over the possibility that this situation is going to throw out all the effort everyone invested into the group & their careers over time. He seems to be reminiscing & being nostalgic of past times too

He's trying to be logical about it all but damn it's hard. He again seems pretty focused on the groups future like what does the group needs moving forward, he really wants well for everyone & the groups future despite this being a really difficult time. This change though has affected him deeply because he really values the bonds within the group so this news is lowkey making him feel slightly overwhelmed?

He is trying to understand heeseungs perspective & is also trying to accept that stuff changes over time and they can't be enhypen forever, one day they won't be enhypen and heeseung ia simply the first one to make the first big decision

JUNGWON

Jungwons feelings are honestly the most complicated to get into, i feel like it's especially hard because he's the leader and he's handling all the responsibilities & questions from the higher ups, the staff, the members & the fans. He feels this pressure to hold the group together while also dealing with everyone else and on top of all that handling his own feelings & his disappointment.

He seems slightly overwhelmed too with how much change heeseung leaving is going to bring not just for the groups career but also for jungwon & the members personally and their relationship with heeseung. He's trying to help everyone adjust which is all just unfortunately making the situation even more heavy for him.He's very determined to focus on rebuilding the groups stability & trying to guide everyone through all this This whole thing is clearly hurting him though, he just feels like this is all so unfair & he's trying to be as motivated & optimistic for the groups future & all

Losing heeseung feels like something extremely heavy for him because he contributed so much that he's mourning everything he's now lost. He's also just really worried about the groups future direction

jungwon understands why he left & he understands the difficulties he's gone through, that they've all gone through actually, but he does for a second at times feel this slight bitterness not in how dare you ruin it for us but it's more emotional like you're causing us a lot of pain & grief

NI-KI

He seems really frustrated actually & he's also pretty distant emotionally too if that makes sense. I feel like he might struggle with change especially when it's as big as this, it's also completely out his control which is making him feel worse it's like why can't he just grab heeseung and bring him the fuck back like what were you thinking of by doing this. A lot of tension for ni-ki y'all.

He's really worried about the group in the professional career aspect & all, but he's also worrying about the dynamics within the group because having heeseung just leave them like that is very painful almost? Anyways listen ni-ki is the youngest member too so you have to understand how much more this situation is affecting him compared to the other members like it’s very difficult for him to be as mature as they are about this situation because this whole thing is making him reconsider the stability & safety of the environment around him ( aka the group,the company, the whole kpop career he's in) .

He's not being loud about it, like he's trying to processes things privately and all but it's very hard for him because he grew up with heeseung & this very specific group dynamic that they’ve got so for heeseung to leave it’s making him realize that he’s growing up, that stuff isn’t always going to be the same. It’s just really difficult for

While yes he's frustrated over this whole thing and how destabilizing it is, he isn't trying to rip heeseung apart i actually doubt he's talking much with hin if at all not in a i hate you i never wanna talk to you way but more like in a let me think clearly about this way

I do think he realizes that this situation was almost natural for the evolution of their careers in the industry because ni-ki himself doesn't want to be in enhypen till he dies or anything although he still feels like to end your journey here is to soon

[hadesss8]

Sending hugs to all my engenes over here... the news arent easy to handle..

[lassiie]

Saint’s Dream - Sex!addict!Jake x ChurchGirl!Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Mention of religion and sins, our boy discover he's an obsessed sadist, reader with inferiority complex and anxiety/Panic attacks, coercion smh, fingering, dry humping/grinding, cum play, Two-faced Jake Sweet → Menace, Obsessed Jake/reader, sub/dom dynamics, soft dom, degradation+praise, kink mention of paraphilia, Overstimulation (r), Slight mind-breaking (r),public, edjing, Dubcon? (mostly in Jake’s head), messy heads, tits lover, marking, breedingkink m, morally gray jake, blasphemous language

WC: 13k~ (didn't really proof read I was sleepy and ovulating on top...enjoy)

You hate Jake Sim. Oh god how you hate this man.

Obviously you do. Because if you didn’t, then every humiliating, small, invisible thing you feel around him would just be…

You.

It’s a thing as old as the day both of you met. This strange inferiority thing you have, that made his kind gestures poison. Cause he’s just so… Jake coded. “Need a hand?” this. “Let me do it for you.” that, always said with that hand-over-heart sincerity. Like some benevolent little saint sent down to rescue the less fortunate. Which, apparently, is you.

And you…

You never refused. or gave him attitude. Cause refusing a guy like Jake would require admitting you resented him. That something about you was wrong.

That you can’t stand the way he outshines you without even trying. That you feel defective standing next to him.

After all, saints are meant to be loved. And Jake was loved by everyone. Everyone, except maybe by you. And eve’ this is not his fault.

It’s yours.

Because that poor Jake was charming in that infuriatingly unconscious way. Soft smiles, careful manners, a body sculpted like God spent extra time on him. Handsome, but acting like he has no idea. Perfect, but almost apologetic for it. Like: Sorry I’m everything you’re not.

He says your name when people praise his grades. Bumps his shoulder against yours when he takes first place and you settle for second. As always.

He leans in too close and murmurs, “Next time, for sure,” with those earnest, pity-puppy eyes, while you fell the anxiety eat you alive.

Even his family, is so aggressively perfect it almost feels satirical.

Rich, but the kind that doesn’t flaunt it because they don’t have to. The kind that somehow raises children with “healthy expectations” instead of generational trauma. No dramatic pressure to be extraordinary. No threats of disappointment. Just effortless excellence, passed down like heirloom silver.

Of course he’d turn out like this.

Perfect.

A saint.

A saint who’s soccer team captain. Your science club president. First seat in violin after school, always a damn chair ahead. Debate club’s crowned prince. The only person you can’t out-argue no matter how long you stay up preparing weeks before. First on the merit board like it’s a birthright to be above yours.

Choir member. Church darling. While you’re just… there. Another girl in a modest skirt trying not to sing off-key.

Even most cited youth volunteer. Which is impressive. Truly. Especially considering you were the president for the past two years.

Two years…

And still it’s his name the pastors say during sermons. “Well, look at Jake,” they’ll say, smiling at him in the third pew. “That’s the kind of young man you should all aspire to be, bla, bla, bla…”

And everyone nods.

You nod too.

Because what else are you supposed to do?

It’s not his fault he excels at everything you bleed for. It’s not his fault people light up when he walks in. It’s not his fault that when you stand next to him, you feel like a smudge on a polished surface.

But it’s easier to think it just is. And in some kind of outragious way it is, because Jake doesn’t even try. That’s the worst part.

He just exists. And somehow, that’s enough to eclipse you.

Because Jake is just everywhere your eyes linger. Everywhere, that’s the problem.

Everywhere you try to excel, every space you polish yourself into something worthy of praise, he appears with effortless and radiant victory, just to cut the grass you were saving for yourself. That brief, intoxicating thrill of being seen, favored, recognize? He reaps it first. Always… first.

You wanted to be him somehow. You mean like him. Perfectly perfect. Still being around him too long made you feel sick—like you were about to throw up and spiral straight into a panic attack.

You were just too much obsessed by him to realize your own outstanding value and charms.

For you, if Jake is virtue, then you are an inventory of sins. If he is modesty, you are secret pride. If he look content, you are greedy.

And if he is purity, sealed neatly behind that chastity ring gleaming on his finger and cross on his neck, then you are pure lust on any kind of attention you could get.

The kind that makes you reckless especially.

The kind that pushes you toward the forgettable fuckable boys at debate regionals. That you let stand a little too close, just to prove you can be wanted too.

The kind that makes you accept wandering hands because it feels good. Because being desired, even just cheaply … Is still being desired?

Sunghoon, for example.

The priest’s youngest assistant. The youth center instructor. Technically too old to look at you the way he does.

But he does. Just now, from the side of the nave, while Father prepares his sermon, his gaze drags over you like he’s already decided he’ll need help moving furniture later at youth session, as always.

You readjust the thin strap of your summer dress, whipping sweat from your neck, boxed into the corner of a wooden pew near the aisle, in that too hot, too old damn of a church in that too small of a town.

The priest clears his throat. Then, almost ceremonially says:

“Anyone under seventeen is dismissed.”

Wood creaks. Shoes scrape. A ripple of confused laughter moves through the congregation as teenagers are herded out, faces pink from heat, whispers louder and louder.

The doors close. The lock sounds heavier than it should. The priest lifts his head.

“Tonight,” he says, “we will speak of the subject of sexuality.”

Your fingers freeze mid-twist in the hem of your dress. Mindlessly exposing your knees.

Half the room low gasps. Someone snorts. Others laugh a bit too loudly, people your age crane their necks, searching for accomplice in embarrassment. Even you turn your head, looking for your friends to share an amused, disbelieving smile with.

And all of you are suddenly curious and aware, and maybe a little dumb.

After it’s the kind of subject we only speak about once a year.

That’s when you see , him. Jake. From the corner of your eye.

Jake’s sited two rows back across the aisle, just behind your friends and their families. Spine straight. Hands clenched on his thighs. Face calm, reverent, unreadable. The saint at rest.

Except—

He look a bit more tired than usual. His eyes dip, just for a second—

To your knees.

To the wrinkled fabric you’ve been worrying on. Then his gaze snaps up, colliding with yours. you don’t even stand it a second and just directly turn back around, that “sorry for existing typa behavior” that you hate about yourself.

It couldn’t have been more than two seconds. Two awkward, desert-dry seconds.

When you risk a quick glance, His attention is back to the priest like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t been looking at you at all. Like you imagined it.

Jake? No way. He doesn’t look at you like that. He actually doesn’t look at anyone like that.

Suddenly you feel wrong. Like maybe your dress is stained and no one told you. Maybe there’s something on your face. Maybe your knees look awkward. Too bare. Too obvious. Too much.

You resist the urge to check. To wipe at your mouth. To smooth your dress again. To twist around and confirm whether Jake’s still looking — or if he ever was.

Good girl. Be still. Be quiet. You don’t turn around. You don’t look for Jake. At Jake. You don’t ask yourself why your pulse hasn’t settled.

Because the priest has begun.

“Desire,” he says, as you take your deepest breath, “is not a sin in itself. It is a trial.” His voice is calm and practiced. “The body,” he continues, “is a battlefield. What you do with it determines whether you rule it or whether it rules you.”

You swallow, lowering your eyes fading in your cogitations.

“There is submission,” he says, “and there is domination. Both exist in God’s design. The danger lies in confusing control with righteousness.”

Your thighs press together before you realize you’ve moved, wrinkling the white fabric of your dress some more.

“Purity,” the priest continue, “is not ignorance. It is discipline.”

You listen.

But do you really? Yeah, god made everyone imperfect, yeah there’s a plan. yeah, the doctrine. Original sin and all that. Maybe yours is that ugly, gnawing need to be wanted. To be looked at and not overlooked. To be desired down to the bone.

And somewhere between the pulpit and the pew—wedged awkwardly between your faith and that gnawing little knot of guilt in your chest—you start to wonder if you’re really the only one here fighting off thoughts that have absolutely no business being inside a church.

Surely not. Statistically, that would be ridiculous. But—-your eyes scan discretly around you—if there are secret perverts sitting politely between the hymnals and the folded hands, and somehow it isn’t you… then who, exactly, is it?

You caught the priest assistant, Sunghoon lingering a look on you at that right fucking moment, as you regain consciousness and stop bit your lower lip. He’s giving you that one look that tells : you’re doing a remarkably poor job of pretending purity princess.

You’re asking for it, huh, he’s probably thinking.

You try to get it together, while your thoughts misbehave. Spectacularly sharing them thru eyes contact with that Sunghoon guy.

Maybe you’re ovulating. That has to be it. Because why else would your mind go there—imagining him in those same church clothes he’s wearing now, backing you into the confessional, crowding that small space until there’s nowhere left for you to escape. Just to force his hand under your already humid and smiring with anticipation panties, like he has some right to check. To make sure you’re still what you’re supposed to be. Still a good girl. Still unprepared, unready, unstretched.

Just to leave you, legs parted, wanting more, with your juice drying on his finger for his own fun.

you can almost feel those cold, veiny hands on you—enough to make your back oh so lightly arch before you can stop yourself.

Reality comes crashing back the moment your parents stand up. The sudden rustling of people around you breaking your… very unchurchlike train of thought.

Incredible. Truly. Your brain picks church—of all places—for that.Fucking get a grip.

Most of it, you missed. You rise in a too quick move, smoothing your dress with hands that are too sweaty, slipping into the current of families clustering together, voices overlapping in familiarity.

You’re fine with this part. This is not the reason you take three type of diferent pills to calm your anxiety. You greet people automatically. Smile where expected. Nod at the right moments. Ask polite questions you don’t really care about.Your normal social self.

It’s only when you notice who your parents are greeting now that something in you tightens.

Jake’s parents.

Of course…

Your mother hugs his with the kind of warmth she reserved for people she’s already decided are good and above, and his father easily laughs with yours.

And you? You angle your body away on instinct, already planning your escape to the youth group, when your mother’s voice cuts in.

“Don’t just hover,” she says. “Say hi, love.”

“Ms Sim, Mr Sim” you reply smoothly bowing your head, with that shy smile, greeting and chatting as you try hard not to look at Jake, “…I’ll go catch up with friends, have safe trip home.” You bow, almost excusing yourself.

but your mom raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve been ‘catching up’ for weeks. Stay here. It’s impolite.”

Before you can try countering, Jake’s mother steps closer as elegant and unhurried as always, smiling like she knows exactly how things are supposed to go.

“Jake,” she says gently, resting a hand between his shoulder blades. “Why don’t you to go join the group too. Walk her over, okay?” It’s perfect. Kindness, handled exactly how you wished you mom would have.

His mother gives you the“good girl eye” the one in between “if I had a daughter like you…” and “my poor child…” you’re used of reiveving from her since childhood.

Jake turns to you. You meet his eyes too late, then look away too quickly.

There it is. This, is the part you’re bad at. Not people. Not conversation. Just him. Just Jake freaking Sim.

Because around Jake, you’ve always felt this… The gap. Since middle school. Since spelling bees and gold stars and teachers comparing you with soft smiles.

Your effort, his ease, you studying until 2 a.m, and him just existing.

“Sure,” he says, like there was never another option.

Shit, shit, shit. You start feelling it… The anxiety.

Jake falls into step beside you down the aisle, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, shoulders close enough to look friendly, far enough to stay saintly, just socially acceptable. An d you only want one thing : get away. Just to calm that thing that is going on in your stomach.

You don’t realise, but Jake can feel your tension radiating like heat. Your shoulders rigid, your eyes everywhere except on his face, and your stomach probably hollowing out with that familiar unconfortable churn you get whenever he’s near.

He’s memorized it by now: the way you try to straighten your spine, pretend you’re fine, pretend he doesn’t make you want to puke from nerves and something else.

God, it’s pathetic.

And it’s perfect.

You, are so perfect.

He sees everything you try to hide, enjoy every little bit. The awkward fidget, the way your eyes dart anywhere. Every stutter, every forced smile, he catalogs it all.

Fuck, Jake wants to do you so bad it hurts; wants to shove you against the nearest pew, yank that dress up, and fuck until you’re crying his name instead of choking on it.

Keep it together, Jake. Golden boy. Church darling. You can’t let the mask crack.

“You alright?” he asks, voice light—like he’s just the nice guy checking in, as if he wasn’t getting off on your every reaction.

“Hm?” You blink up at him, wide-eyed, caught off guard.

It’s brilliant, that deer-in-headlights thing you do, it just, never gets old.

His gaze drops. Lower. To those fingers you’ve been white-knuckling since the sermon started. “You’ve been clenching your hands all night.”

Your eyes snap down. Fingers guilty half-second too late. And your anxiety rize. Jake can practically see it takes form…

Good.

“I… didn’t realize,” you mumble, voice barely there, with that akward smile.

“I know...” Jake is mesmerized, he watches your breath hitch. You’ve been doing this all service, twisting those fingers like they’re your only anchor. And yeah, he’s been watching. Longer than tonight actually. Longer than you’ll ever guess. “I mean,… I thought maybe you weren’t feeling well,” he continues, “You looked tense.”

A small, strangled laugh escapes you—like you’re one wrong breath from vomiting. Fuck. That sound shoots straight to his cock. He wants to push harder, make it a bit worse, make you dizzy with it maybe. But he need to control himself, If you ever realise, if you ever guess that he’s getting off on your disconfort it’s the end.

“No, I—it’s just a bad habit.” Your hands flap uselessly. Awkward smile plastered on. Stop, he imagines you screaming internally. He almost smirks.

He hums instead. “You should stop.” Another beat. Thin and charged. “I mean…” his eyes drop to your dress. “Look here.”

Jake brushes the threadbare spot you’ve been torturing. Two fingers. That’s all. No grab, no force, just the lightest graze, and your reaction is immediate.

He watches it ripple: pressure sinks through fabric, heat blooms, shiver rockets up your thigh. Goosebumps explode across your legs. Breath snags hard. Thighs twitch in the slightliest way together, desperatly, before you clamp them still.

Fuck. He wants to spread those thighs so bad right now, make you twitch for hours—-Stop! Keep it together, Jake. Control it.

He should stop, he need to. But teasing you is so addicting. “Look,” he murmurs, with that softer smile tilting, almost fond. “its thinner here… than here.”

His veiny hands doesn’t retreat. His fingers slide, slow, deliberate, along the curve of your thigh. Fabric bunches between histhumb and forefinger. His knuckles drag bare skin for three perfect, torturous second. Warm and rougher than you expected from him.

You hadn’t noticed the wear. But he did. On every spot of every cloth you were around him.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Right…” You say taking a step back.

hm? Are you trying to get away? Maybe he did go a bit far, he think. but…

“You’ll stop?” Jake say gently enough to make you doupt if it is a question or a soft command.

And you nod, more like a reflexive. But to him it’s like you’re being obedience, a pathetic state of you that make his dick twitch. You, doing everything he order you to.

He doesn’t move. Tempted to try a bit more.

“Don’t just nod.” It’s almsot imperseptible but his voice drops lower.

“Say yes.”

Your mouth goes dry—he sees the swallow stick. Another traitor nod slips out that make him wanna grab on your jaw, but the word scrapes free finally.

“Y—yes.”

Fuck, Jake fucking loves it. His smile blooms full. The polite one everyone love, yeah. But in this case, he’s just satisfied. Pupils flaring wide for half a heartbeat.

His hand twitches toward your head, like he wants to pat you, like a good pet, but suddenly he snaps out of his little ego trip and reroutes it to your shoulder, remembering he’s not supposed to be this blatant… but oh how he wants it.

Fuck it. It’s not the agreement that gets him half hard. Not even close. It’s the surrender in your personality. The way you surrender without a word, without a fight. How can you be this submisive, angel ? The way you don’t fight back. The way those doe eyes almost beg him to leave you alone… somehow that makes him go harder. Makes him need it.

At first, he didn’t get it. Why this pulls him in so much. Why the simple fact that you’re uncomfortable makes his brain—and apparently his dick—start running the show.

You too don’t get it yet.

Key word : yet.

To say all of this started with pity-hatred would be putting it mildly.

It was the first time in his entire fucking life Jake’s ever felt something so disgustingly potent crawl inside his chest. He still remembers the exact second you got him hopelessly addicted to the sick thrill of having power over you.

Two years ago, at the regional spelling bee auditorium, behind the scenes while everyone was rehearsing—the perfect little prodigy with your too-neat hair and modest knee-length skirt who was supposed to be untouchable— was in some other school senior's arms, pressed against a dark corner backstage’s curtain. His mouth on the side of your neck, leaving wet marks.

His hand shoved so far up under your skirt Jake could see the skin of your inner thigh flexing. And you moaned, a shy whimpering that punched straight through Jake’s balls, as your hips rocked forward shamelessly chasing for more.

That was that. The day Jake realized hate and want could live in the same heartbeat and feel exactly the same.

His first public hard-on. Right there sitting on folding chairs in front of hundreds, cock throbbing painfully against the zipper of his khakis while he watched you sitting down silently next to him. You, the only girl he’d ever really wanted, who got finger-fucked like she was starving for it minutes ago, and then spelling: Floccinaucinihilipilification.

You were his first real crush. His stupid, innocent puppy love.

His first heartbreak.

And—most importantly—his first real taste of rage.

How could you fucking dare give those sounds toa stranger. For days he observed you, just to realise his pure crush on you turned you into an angel you actually weren’t. 

Those moans looped in his skull for weeks. The way your cheeks flushed such a violent pink. The glassy, faraway look in your eyes right before you came. The shuddering, thighs trembling, the tiny, broken cry slipping out as you soaked that bastard’s hand.

Jake came so hard that night he saw stars. Ropes of thick cum painting his stomach while his brain short-circuited, replaying nothing but your wrecked face over and over.

First time he’d ever jerked off thinking about someone specific.

First time he experienced the pleasure of rolling over and fucking a pillow thinking of a girl inner thighs while begging for repentance.

And first time he understood what it meant to want to own someone.

From that day forward it stopped being about trophies, debate medals, perfect report cards, or the endless parade of “suitable” playdates his mom tried to arrange. None of it hit the same as the urge to touch you.

Nothing got him stupidly, painfully hard like the fantasy of finally cornering you—maybe in the back stacks of the library where you always fall asleep with your cheek smushed against an open textbook, or in an empty chem lab after hours.

He daydreamed to wash your mouth out with his tongue until you tasted like him. Wanted to bruise the skin that should’ve always belonged to him.

Wanted to be the first—and only—one to rip new sounds and reactions out of that pretty face. He wished to experiment his new obsessions on you.

And suddenly he realised that every time he smiled that gentle, angelic, good-boy smile while quietly dismantling your confidence, your eyes would go glassy, stomach visibly clenching like you were trying not to cry right there.

And fuck, that made him leak in his briefs.

It was weird. And it was scary. The thought of being purposely bad to someone was against everything he believed in.

Still, no award ceremony, no valedictorian speech, no other girl ever gave him that same feral rush. Nothing got him harder, faster, than watching you shrink under his saintly cruelty.

It’s your fault. He persuaded himself. You, turned him into a sinner.

By the time you reach the youth group, voices overlap and the moment dissolves. You both join your friends suddenly aware of your own body in a way that feels like a low vibration under your ribs.

The group is seated in a loose circle, attention focused on Brother hoon, who sits on a low chair at the end of the circle, hands folded, expression impassive.

“As Father mentioned tonight,” he says, “desire is not something to fear. Strong feelings do not make us bad people.” He smiles softly. “They make us human. What matters is how love and understanding the path of god guides them.”

He looks around the circle.

“Does anyone have a passage they think speaks to that?”

Silence.

People avoid eye contact. Someone shifts. But Jake raises his hand without hesitation.

“John 3:16,” he says evenly. “It reminds us that love is intentional. Chosen. Sacrificial. And that sacrifices vanish a lot of sins.”

Nods ripple through the group. You hesitate, then speak before you can stop yourself.

“First Peter,” you say quietly. “4:9.” You swallow, then continue. “It says that above all, we should have fervent love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins.”

Brother Sunghoon's smile deepens.

“That’s very good,” he says looking at you, “both of you.” You lower your gaze, warmth creeping into your face. Heat floods your cheeks. Oh, how pathetic it feels to crave that tiny scrap of recognition, like a dog waiting for a pat on the head. But from him? It's everything. You drop your gaze to your lap, fingers twisting the hem of your dress, a stupid smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Across the circle, Jake watches. He sees it all: the way your eyes light up for Sunghoon, the flush that creeps up your neck, the shy curve of your mouth.

Head over heels, aren't you? For that guy?.

Jake's jaw tightens. Your lips... His nails dig into his palms without him realising until he feels the warm trickle of skin tiring. Your lips, could smile at him instead. Why couldn’t they he’s always so good to you. So gentlmen. You could at least thank him for always having you in his mind. those same soft lips of yours you btting nervously could be parted around his cock as a thank you, no? You could look at him with those same shy eyes, through those long lashes, begging for that guidance he will surely give you better than anyone else. He’d be so good to you if you letted him. He clenches harder.

You have no idea the storm you're stirring in him, do you? All innocent and fluttering for the wrong man. Fuck he’s doing it again…

Jake reajust himself in the chair, hopping no one noticed, and study keep going until brother Sunghoon claps his hands once, gentle but decisive.

“Let’s do this, for this week exercise” he says. “I want you to pair up with someone,” he gesture, encouraging. “talk together about a desire, something, anything. that is stuck within you and let the other one show acceptance and understanding. It’s about recognizing when it isn’t ours to indulge, and how understanding it helps us accept it, then guide it. Not repress it as a danger. But how to dominate it.”

Murmurs spread. People already turn toward safe friends, prepping harmless confessions: I procrastinate so much…, I love junk food, I desire to skip Bible study sometimes, oops, haha. You do too, wayving at your friend, already scripting something bland and forgivable in your head. Something oh so harmless, that anyone could say “it‘s okay! How about journaling about it?” to.

Then Brother Sunghoon adds, almost offhand adds“Let’s keep it simple… I’ll pair you.” He starts calling names. Your heart drops with each one. Until he reaches you.

“You… With… Jake.” He smiles.

NO.

No,no,no,no.

Your breath catches, sharp and shallow. The room tilts a little. Why you? What could you possibly tell him? Something safe, or... God, what if anything slips out? He’s that good at talking people thru… Your hands tremble, chest tightening like a shrinked shirt. Air feels thin. It’s is a trap, isn't it? Another way for him to see how beneath him you are—frumpy little you, with your buttoned-up blouses and anxious fidgeting, spilling your soul to perfect Jake. Why does it have to be him? Your pulse hammers in your ears, vision blurring at the edges. Breathe. Just breathe. But your lungs won't cooperate, and the panic coils tighter.

He flashes that pure, trustworthy smile everyone melts for, raises his hand in a small, casual hi~ wave. Your friends shoot you those smug, giddy looks—“You’re so lucky!”—like this is some divine rom-com moment.

For one wild second you consider faking illness. Clutching your stomach, bolting for the bathroom, anything. God must be punishing you. This is divine retribution dressed in flannel and soft brown eyes. Or maybe Jake engineered it, whispered to Sunghoon, pulled strings. No, that's paranoid. But the thought makes your stomach churn harder.

“Keep in mind,” Sunghoon adds brightly, “accept with open arms. Show your partner grace. Try to find healthy paths forward together.”

Open arms…

Everyone stands.

You hesitate half a beat too long—long enough that Jake notices—then force your legs to move. Chin up. Shoulders squared. You flash him the smile you’ve practiced in mirrors a hundred times: sweet and polite, that you think look effortless. No one would ever guess how much it costs you, how your heart's racing like it's trying to escape your chest.

You meet him halfway across the room.

“So,” he says quietly, leaning in just enough that his voice stays private, “where do you wanna do this?”His tone is light. Curious. As if the answer doesn’t matter at all. and some jaleous girls side eyes you.

But, the answer genuinely doesn’t matter,.

No it actually does.

It matters so much your throat is closing around it. You need open space. People. Fresh air. A clear line of sight to the bathroom so you can bolt when the panic claws up your esophagus and you have to puke your shame into a toilet stall. Anywhere but—

“I think…” You chew the inside of your lower lip raw, teeth catching skin. Your hand drifts up, nails slidding between your teeth before you even register the motion. Bite. Release. Bite again. You scan the room like there’s an escape hatch nobody told you about. “Anywhere. Anywhere’s fine…”

Jake watches the whole pathetic performance. A second too long. His eyes darken, pupils swallowing the soft brown until they look almost black. He’s already picturing it: those same nervous teeth replaced with something thicker, your lips stretched and glistening, shy eyes flicking up at him while you choke on praise and drool. Fuck. He’ll break that nail-biting habit one day. Replace it with better habits. On your knees. Swollen mouth. Full of him.

“Study room, downstairs then.”

No.

No!!

The word screams in your head but your mouth stays shut. Those coffin-sized side rooms. No windows. No air that isn’t recycled through his lungs first. No witnesses. Bathroom a whole hallway away. You’ll suffocate. You’ll die in there. You’ll—

You nod too fast. Legs move on autopilot. You trail half a step behind him like a scolded puppy…

Inside, the room is smaller than you remembered. Sterile. Dim. One lamp throwing long shadows. Just a table against a the wall. Two chairs. Jake fucking Sim.

And your heart hurts. You want to go home…

Jake let's you go in first and the room is small you can just smell the clean cotton of his shirt and the faint cedar of whatever cologne he wears. He pulls out your chair, oh so gnetlemenly, and you drop into it so fast the legs scrape. You curl your hands into fists so he won’t see the trembling.

When Jake joins and sit… he’s too damn close. His knees bracket yours, because there isn’t anywhere else to be. You decide to make an exercice out of trying to keep yours sealed tight long enough not to touch his.

You fold your hands on the hem of your dress and suddenly flash back to when Jake told you to stop hits.

You stop.

He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing. And you stastically are. Because it’s hard to calm your heart by pointing at five things in a room where the. things you see are a lamp and Jake. The silence settles, not really awkward. but as present as a third person you almost count.

Your eyes locks on the door handle behind him. He locked it. Of course he locked it. Why did he locked it? And why is there no window in the room. why is there no ventilation too? No other sounds than your breathing slowly catching.

Your vision blur in the corners.

Shit, shit, shit.

Jake tilts his head, gets closer, concern creasing his brow in that perfect, practiced way. “Hey… you okay? You look…” He pauses, voice dropping softer. “You look a bit stressed.”

Liar. He’s not concerned. He’s enjoying every seconds. You can’t feel it too much in your own head, to see the way his gaze drags over your flushed cheeks, your bitten lip, the slow frantic rise and fall of your chest. Your panic is turning him on and he hates himself for it and he loves it more.

“I—I’m fine,” you whisper. Your tongue feels thick. “Just… It’s hot. In here.”

fuck it’s almost summer, and the church can’t have a window or some kind of fan in a corner.

“You sure?” He leans forward. Elbows on the table. Closer. “Your hands are shaking. You’re pale.” His fake worry drips from every syllable like honey. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You want to scream leave me alone. Instead your mouth opens and closes like a dying fish. His finger shyly catch on chin to makes you look at him. And nausea surges, hot climbing your throat. The room spins. You lurch to your feet.

Bad idea, angel.

Your legs give out like wet paper. You don’t even stumble gracefully, you literally crumple forward, knees hitting the floor hard between Jake’s spread thighs, nails scraping at the wood between his leags. The impact jars up your spine, but the real pain is the way your chest locks tighter, air refusing to come in more than frantic little sips.

He freezes for half a heartbeat. Eyes wide. Then something darker flickers across his face.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Hey—hey, I-I think you’re having a panic attack.”

He should call for Sunghoon. He knows he should. Yell. Open the door. Get the saintly brother in here to lay hands and pray he can calm your allergy to him.

But he doesn’t move.

Instead his hands shoot out.One clamping around your jaw, firm enough to tilt your face up to his, the other slids to cradle the back of your neck just like he’s been rehearsing in his dreams for months.

“Easy,” he murmurs, thumb stroking once along the edge of your lower lip—almost tender. “Breathe for me, okay? You’re safe. Just breathe.”

You try. God, you try. But your lungs are made of stone. Your vision swims. Tears already sting the corners of your eyes because everything feels too loud, too close, too him.

Jake’s jaw ticks. His voice drops lower. “Come here.”

He hauls you up, not roughly, but with purpose, straight into his lap so you’re straddling him face-to-face. Your knees bracket his hips on the narrow chair; your dress bunches high on your thighs. His hands stay where they are: one still gripping your jaw, the other curled possessively around the back of your neck, keeping you from looking away.

You’re close enough to see the flecks of brown in his dark irises, the tiny scar on his upper lip, the way his pupils have blown wide. Close enough to feel every ragged exhale fan across your mouth.

“Still not breathing right,” Jake says, voice low, almost disappointed. His thumb strokes once along the seam of your lips, “open your mouth, angel.”

Your lips and eyes tremble, stay sealed. Terror and humiliation glue them shut.

He exhales sharply through his nose. Then two thick fingers push past your teeth without preamble. They hook over your tongue and press, stretching the soft inner skin of your cheeks until they pull tight, until your jaw screams from the angle. You gag hard, helpless, the sound is wet and obscene in the room you’re ashamed.

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips twitching once beneath you. His cock is already straining against his jeans, pressing insistently against your core through thin fabric. “Breathe, thru your mouth. In through your nose… out slow. Come on.”

You try—God, you try—but every inhale shoves his fingers deeper, every failed exhale drags more saliva spilling over his knuckles, dripping down your chin and his hand. Your tears stream freely now and a choked, broken whimper vibrates around the intrusion.

He groans low in his throat, head dropping back a bit to enjoy the show.

“You’re fucking killing me like this.”

His free hand slides down—under the hem of your dress and you jolt when it goes past the lace edge of your panties, until his palm flattens over your lower belly. Big. His hand is big. Spanning so much skin you feel tiny, fragile and kind of owned. He presses firm rhythmics. Up on the inhale, down on the exhale. Forcing your diaphragm to obey.

“Like that,” he whispers, breath mingling with yours. “Good girl. Follow my hand. In… out…”

The pressure make your insides wierd, his fingers stretching your mouth, petting your tongue like something precious turn your brain mushy. His palm grinds slightly more possessive, close enough to the fabric of your panties that your clit drags on the friction you can’t ignore. His head tips; his lips brush your temple once barely there.

“If you need to puke,” he rasps, voice cracking with restraint, “tell me, I don’t give a fuck.”

The words hit meaner than he usually speaks. He’s diferent more dominating. A soft, shattered sound tears from your throat: half sob, half plea. Drool glistens on his fingers, strings of it connecting to your swollen lips when he finally, agonizingly, slowly, withdraws them.

Three minutes. Maybe four. Your breathing stuttered, catched, steadied and now ragged gasps smooth into something almost even.

His hand stays splayed on your belly. You feels your hands again finally, resting on your thighs, when you look at them you catch on the buldge of is cock throbing beneath you with every shaky inhale you take. But you don’t look away, and not at him.

And jake doesn’t speak for a long beat.

Then, barely audible he says: “Better?”

Your tongue still tastes like the salt of his skin. You can’t answer too everwelmed, and suddenly fresh tears slip down your cheeks.

His thumb strokes once over your lower stomach, just gentle now.

“Shhh, Good girl,” he breathes. And the praise sinks into you like a cold patch on your fever, even as you tremble in his arms, with nowhere left to hide, “There you go,” he murmurs, voice all honeyed, post-crisis soft. “You’re okay, angel. Just breathe. It’s alright. Everything’s alright.”

Jake speak in the same tone people use on scared puppies or crying kids. Like he handed you a participation trophy for almost blacking out in his lap.

You’re calm(ish). Breathing steady. Heart still hammering, sure, but no longer trying to punch through your ribs.

Jake, though?

Jake is not calm.

The thick, insistent ridge of him presses up against your core through his jeans and your bunched skirt. Hard enough that every tiny shift of your hips drags a low hiss from between his teeth. You feel it twitch when you swallow. Feel it throb when your breath hitches. He’s leaking through the fabric—you’re almost sure of it—and the realization makes fresh heat flood your face.

You can’t look at him.

Not for the next two minutes that stretch into a miserable eternity.

So you do the only thing your body knows how to do when cornered: you tuck your face into the warm crook of his neck. Hide there. His skin smells like cedar and clean sweat and something faintly metallic—like he’s been biting the inside of his cheek too. Your nose presses against his pulse. It’s racing faster than yours.

His hand slides up. Fingers card gently through your hair—slow, soothing strokes from crown to nape. Petting you like you’re fragile porcelain.

His other hand drops and settles high on your bare thigh, thumb resting just under the hem of your panties. Not moving. Just… there. Claiming space. Testing how long you’ll let it stay

How the fuck are you this cute? Jake thinks, jaw tight. Hiding in his neck like a scared little cat. All flushed and messy and still trying to be good.

But the next thought comes faster and uglier:

How do he turns this into you coming completely undone under me?

He turns it over in his head like a Rubik’s cube he already knows the solution to. Every angle. Every justification.

You’re already so wet. Jake can feels it. you’re shaking because you wants it too, you’re just too shy to admit it. I could fix that. He thinks. I could make you need me so bad you’d forgets how to breathe without my permission. Make you crawl. Make you beg. Make you thank him for every things.

This is toxic as hell.

But what if it’s good for both of you?

What if Jake could give you exactly what you’r too scared to ask for, and once he’d you experience it, maybe these sick thoughts will finally shut the fuck up? Like finally playing that one game you’ve been obsessing over for years, beating it in one all-nighter, and then never touching it again because… meh. Done. Satisfied.

Yeah… He’s bad at lying to himself…

“You feel better?” he asks quietly, lips brushing your temple.

You nod against his neck. Tiny. Barely there.

He exhales like he’s been holding the breath for centuries.

“You know…” His voice drops lower, almost confessional. “I get like that too. Around you.”

You freeze.

“Not… not exactly like that,” he adds quickly. “But I feel… off. Not myself. Wired. Like my skin’s too tight.”

Silence. But you can hear his heartbeat so distinctly.

You shift barely an inch, and realize too late how it looks: the straps of your dress fallen off your shoulders, hair a wrecked halo, cheeks stained and humid. You look fucked already and he hasn’t even kissed you nor touched you.

Jake’s bangs are messy now, falling into his eyes. He looks… different. Maybe hungrier. Less like the golden youth-group Jake and more like some guy who’s been starved and have his. first meal in front him.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Jake half-smiles anf it’s devastating. You never saw him like that.

The thoughts flood back so fast he almost groans out loud.

He never really watched porn. Didn’t need to. But his brain’s been running a private channel starring you for months. You biting your lip when you’re nervous? Jake wants those lips on his cock instead. You tugging your hair when you’re frustrated? Jake want his fist wrapped in it while he fucks you till you cry. You fidgeting with your skirt hem? Jake wants to flip it up, spread you open, pull out dripping and smear the mess across your panties until you’re glazed and whimpering his name.

Jake’s fingertips graze a stray strand from your cheek. Your breath stutters. He smirks every time your eyes dart away.

“You’re uncomfortable around me, hm?”

You shake your head so violently your hair whips his chin.

He chuckles softly and dark. “It’s okay.” His humb traces your cheekbone now, slowly, deliberatly, cataloging every twitch. “I don’t mind. Actually… I kinda like it.”

His eyes follow his own touch like he’s hypnotized.

“You hate me?”

Another violent head shake.

“I won’t believe you if you don’t speak, angel.”

“I…” Your tongue darts over dry, bruised lips. You swollow dry.“I don’t hate you…” The whisper is so quiet it barely exists.

But it’s enough.

He readjusts under you. A deliberate grind that makes you gasp. and he smiles, soft and so fucking fond it hurts.

“You know…” His thumb drags over your bottom lip, pressing just enough to part it. “I tried everything to not think of this. Doubled prayer time, knelt till my knees bruised. Ran till I puked. Anything to exhaust my body, starve my mind. But the harder I tried to kill it… the clearer the pictures of you got. You. Just you. Every fucking time.”

“…What?” you whisper.

“I’m doing the exercise right now,” he says, voice cracking just a little. is head drops to your neck this time. He inhales deep your perfume, your fear-sweat, your arousal. “Fuck, it’s weird saying it out loud.”

Your heart skips a beat painfully.

“It’s just… I keep fantasizing. Obsessing. You’re the only one I think about when I—” He cuts himself off, lips brushing your skin. “I don’t know what to do. What should I do, hm? Tell me.”

Brother Sunghoon’s voice echoes in your skull like divine intervention gone wrong: Accept with open arms. he said Show your partner grace. he said. Try to find healthy paths forward together. He said.

Your hands fly to his shoulders gripping like he’s rock on your chest.

“You… what kind of thoughts?”

He fights the grin. Loses. It spreads slow and victorious across his face.

Got you.

He leans in until his mouth ghosts your ear.

“When you bite your lip? I want to replace your teeth with mine. Want to suck that plump little mouth till it’s swollen and you’re whimpering into my tongue.”

Your thighs clench involuntarily.

“When you chew your nails? I want them scratching down my back while I’m buried so deep you forget your own name.” You swallow. “Want to see those same fingers wrapped around my cock, slick and trembling, guiding every inch down your throat till you gag and swallow every drop I pump into you.”

His hand slides higher on your thigh—fingertips grazing the damp edge of your panties. Fuck what a pool.

“When you tug your hair? I want my fist in it. Pulling just hard enough to make your eyes water while I fuck your mouth slow. Pull out to wipe the mess across your lips like the lips balm you always put on and ends up licking. I want to make you taste how wrecked you make me.”

Jake’s touching you everywhere he shouldn’t under your dress. Grazing his way up your hips, teasing the small of your back, mapping out every spot he’s dreamed about ruining.

“Ahhh, sorry… it’s probably just wierd,” he lies smoothly, voice shy and coaxing. “I think it’s like, hormones and curiosity. Once I… do it. Once I get it out of my system, it’ll stop. I’ll be normal again.”

So that what it is. That’s what Sim Jaeyun had in his head all allong. “You’ll accept this part me, hm?”

“Hm?”

He’s eyes are doing this puppy thing “…That’s what the exercise is for, right?”

Fuck… The exercice…

Your panties are soaked. You can feel it all hot and sticky, more than the fabric can hold. Your clit throbed in time with his words and he just don’t shutted up. You’re dizzy again, but for a different reason.

Maybe you’re trying to help. Maybe you’re just that far gone. Maybe you just want that buldge that much… And it’s okay.

Cause love and acceptance erase a lot of sins, no?

“You… want to try?” you whisper.

Jake thrives. His eyes darken and travel everyplace he want to touch, mark and own. “Will you let me?”

For a second you almost see that shadow behind the soft dark of his eyes, the part you never saw before, and think not anyone ever saw.

You’re too wet, too shaky and too lost in the heat radiating between you, to be able to think twice so—-

You nod.

“Say it.” His eyes beg, lips tasting your with a graze.

“Ok…Yes.”

He exhales like the war is finally over and he’s the only soldier left standing. “Good,” he breathes, thumb dragging slow across your bottom lip one last time, bitting his, like he’s sealing a contract.

And just like that, his daydream becomes reality.

Jake’s eyes go black, his pupils swallowing everything soft and church-boy-ish about him. They rake down your body like he’s already mapping every place he wants to bruise, bite, own. His hands flex and fingers twitching with the too many impulses that come at him in once: rip that dress? pin your wrists? spread you wide? make you cry his name? God itself shouldn’t witness the thoughts he’s having right now.

He’s still trying to convince himself that, this, is just hormones. Just a phase. Just the exercise.

But the lie is thinning fast as his dick take control over his brain.

“It’s your fault… I wasn’t like that before you,” he mutters, voice low and cracked. “You sat there with your smile, biting your lip, tugging your hair, fidgeting like a nervous little thing—and it’s like you’re begging me—to… Take control. You think that’s fair?”

You blink up at him, chest heaving. “Wh… why am I the problem? It’s your—”

He cuts you off by hauling you up effortlessly, spinning you until your ass hits the edge of the table. He lifts you like you weigh nothing, lays you flat on the cold wood. and yanks one of your legs high, hooking it over his shoulder.

He bites down on the inside of your calve and you iss, teeth sinking just enough to make pain bloom brightly and hot.

You yelp, and the sound bounces off the walls. He smirks against your skin, tongue flicking over the fresh mark. “Why so uncomfortable around me, hm? Allergic?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Shaking your head. Too shy. Too overwhelmed. Too wet. He lets your leg fall. Steps in closer, with one leg on the table, and leans down for your mouth.

You panic, your hands fly up, palms flat against his mouth, pushing him back an inch.

“What?” His voice drops dangerously soft against your palm.

You shake your head again. No. Not that. Not yet maybe.

“You said I could try anything,” he reminds you, eyes narrowing like a sad puppy.

“Not… not that.”

He looks unhappy. Jake jaw ticks, then his hand shoots to your jaw firmly, tilting your head to the side.His lips find the nape of your neck instead and sucks hard. He marks you, and you feel the bruise blooming already.

“I’ll make you beg for a kiss,” he mutters, more to himself than you. “I’ll make you crawl for it.”

His fingers hook the thin straps of your summer dress and with one smooth tug the fabric slides down your arms, pools at your waist, then drops to the floor entirely. You’re left in nothing but damp cotton white panties and your red Converse and white socks, shivering.

His palms cover your breasts too hard at first. You wince, brows pinching. He watches your face like it’s scripture. Adjusts. Squeezes again. Just a bit softer. Then harder. Jake is testing and learning every twitch, every hitch in your breath.

You finally open your eyes and meet his.

To realise he’s gone. Gone gone.

Not Jake anymore. Something trance-like. Pupils blown. Breathing shallow. Mouth parted like he’s receiving a vision.

“Jake…?”

“Let me see,” he rasps. “All the kinds of faces you can make.”

He drops his mouth on your nipple with his dark eyes on you. ANd feel his thick lips, fangs grazing. Tongue swirling slow, then flicking sharp. He captures everything: the way your fingers dig into his shoulders to push him away, the helpless rock of your hips against his bulge, the little space between your parted lips where silent cries keep slipping out.

He’s addicted.

He tries for your mouth again. And you block him. Again. He growls like an unhappy dog in his throat. Grabs your hips and jsut forces them down hard against his cock to make grind you along the length until you yelp and yelp and yelp again.

His thumb traces your lips. Slips inside. Hooks your cheek. Fuck, he loves this view: your brows bending in that perfect needy arch, eyes watering, lashes clumping. His favorite expression. The cry-baby you.

“God bless you for being such a perfect little cry baby,” he mutters. “He made you for me. Look at you. You’re built to fall apart under my hands, hm?”

Your brain short-circuits. What the hell is he saying? This isn’t Jake. This is—

Three fingers shove past your lips. Stretch your mouth wide. He hyperfixates—watching the way your tongue flattens, the drool that pools, the way your throat works around the intrusion.

“I always see it,” he says, voice wrecked. “You biting your crayons, your nails, your lips... Every little anxious quirk. Makes me want to replace them all. Want to fuck your mouth until you’re choking on me instead of anything else .”

You hear his zipper.

He’s stroking himself now, slowly, his head bumping against the drenched cotton between your thighs. Soft whimpers escape you both.

He stops everything. Focuses on the wet patch. The sticky mess you’ve made.

“Fuck… how can you be this wet?”

His thumbs presses and stroke everywhere you wet yourself, traces the shadow of your entrance through the fabric, firmly, slowy. And you slap a hand over your mouth, eyes darting to the door.

“Jake—someone could—”

He doesn’t hear you. He’s too far gone.

He keeps smearing your slickness, adding his own leaking precum until the white cotton is translucent, clinging, buried between your folds.

Both your breaths come faster, heavier.

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He notches the head against your clit with forces pressure. You jolt—whole body arching.

You stare at him, and a sudden realization hits: he’s touching a pussy for the first time. No?

He’s acting like he want to force it inside, but he doesn’t even know where and what it really looks like up close. He’s on instinct, hunger mode. It’s thrilling. And it’s terrifying. He won’t listen. Won’t stop. So your trembling hand slides down. Brushes him. He’s veiny, swollen. So hard it hurts to touch.

He snarls. Grabs your wrist. Forces your fingers around his shaft. Makes you strock it.

“Fuck—”

You line him up—head nudging your entrance, with only the soaked fabric between.

He thrusts so shallow and desperate. The head pushes in stretching the cotton, stretching you. You arch violently. His breathing is obscene, so freaking loud and ragged.

“I’ll fuck you… fuck, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

He slams a palm on the table beside your head.

“Fuck—we can’t—” he say, but doesn’t stop. His thrusts turn erratic. Wet sounds fill the room rhythmic. Every shallow push forces the fabric deeper, almost tearing, almost letting him in.

“I want inside—fuck—I want to fuck you so bad.”

“I want to go so deep you scream.”

“I want to feel your clench around me.”

You’re close—too close—from the friction, from his wrecked expression, from the way he’s losing every shred of control. You grab his wrist, with your still trapped between his hand and his cock’s hand, and guide his fingers.

He follows. And memories flash him: the day he caught you getting fingered in secret. The way your hips bucked. The sounds.

He laughs dizzy, “I forgot… you’re a little slut, right?”

Two fingers shove inside you. No preamble. He just fuck your inside roughly. He curls. Scissors. Pumps. No pattern. Just chasing every reaction. Every flutter. Every jolt.

“How can a dick even fit in here, hm?” he mutters, completely out of his mind. “Fuck—”

Your orgasm builds terrifyingly fast. You try to fight it. Try to stay quiet. But the more you clench, the harder it hits. Your legs snap shut around his hand.

He watches from above, literally transfixed, as your body contracts, back bowing, thighs trembling.

Right when you’re about to tip over—

He pulls out. Completely.

You jolt. Thrash. Palm slams the table. Other hand clamps over your mouth. Legs convulse, and you see white for a second. The denial is stronger than any full orgasm you’ve ever had. And Jake drinks in every second—your arched back, your shaking thighs, the way you’re offering yourself without words.

Your back…

He grabs your leg. Flips you onto your stomach, the cold table shocks your nipples.

“Wait—”

He yanks your panties up so hard you’re forced onto tiptoes.

His cock slides between your fabric and ass. Its hot, thick, fucking the crease hard. Jake’s palm clamps the back of your neck and it cuts oxygen just enough to make your brain fuzzy, make everything narrow to the drag of him against you.

He grinds. Strokes your clit with the soaked cotton pulling. Faster. Faster. Meaner.

You both break at the same time. He groans and bites on the arm that hold you down, as hot and thick ropes of cum paint your back. Your legs buckle a bit a,d your orgasm crashes as silently as possible, shattering, legs trembling so hard you almost collapse.

Both of you are shaking. Breathing like you’ve run marathons.

It’s over.

But he grabs your arm. Pulls you down. You fall to your knees. “Let me see your face.” He brushes sweat-damp hair back. You look exactly like his dream: wrecked. Lips swollen. Eyes glassy.

He towers over you. Cock still half-hard and leaking. You lean forward. Press your lips to the head, with your tongue flat against the thick vein underneath.

“Ahh—-” he snaps. One hand fist your hair. Thrusts shallow, fucking the last of his cum into your mouth, to gradually fuck the back of your throat.

You gag. Tears spill. And he loses it completely, watching the tears track down your cheeks, feeling your throat work around him.

“Fuck… that’s it. Take it all.”

ANd you take it all. Every shallow thrust into your mouth, every pulse against your tongue, every drop he spills down your throat, he watches like it's the holy prouf that he’s in fact one of god’s favorite. Your eyes water and tears track hot down your cheeks. You gag softly once, twice, but you don't pull away.

Jake groans low, wrecked, fingers tightening in your hair. "I love you," he rasps, voice cracking on the words like they've been clawing at his throat for months. "Fuck—I love you so much it hurts. I want you bad. So fucking bad."

He releases with one last shudder, flooding your mouth. You cough, choke a little, saliva and cum dripping from the corner of your lips as you gasp for air. Before you can even wipe your chin, he yanks your head back by the hair, sharp enough to make you gasp, and tries to crashes his mouth to yours—-

Then his phone buzzes—sharp, insistent, vibrating against the table like a slap back to reality. He. literally freezes. His lips one millimeter away.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He wanted this to never end. He pulls back slowly, breathing ragged, passing a frustrated hand in his hair and answers the call with shaking fingers.

You sink back onto your knees, dazed, chest heaving, trying to piece yourself together while the world rushes back in too loud, and too fast. You can't hear Jake’s conversation: just muffled voices, his low "yeah, Mom," "okay, got it." His free hand reaches for yours, squeezing once, grounding.

He mouths at you silently, puppy eyes soft again: You okay? With his phone still hooked between ear and shoulder, he reaches out, rearranges your tangled hair with careful fingers, wipes the tear tracks and spit from your cheeks with his thumb and sleeve. Jake helps you too, tug your dress back up over your shoulders like nothing happened.

The call ends, and you don’t even realise it. There’s only that strange feeling of calm in you, like the anxiety is gone. And maybe too much of Jake’s presence. There’s nothing. You just don’t think anymore. And it feels somhow so pleasing.

"Hey." Jake’s hand slides to the back of your neck, with a gentle pressure turning your face to his. "My mom called. Your parents got an emergency thing from work. We're taking you home."

"Hm?"

He studies your expression, you’re in the stars right now, and oh how he wish he could keep you there. A soft, fond smile tugs at his mouth. His eyes drop to your lips. He bites his own. Leans in. But you suddnely flinch, almost dodge again.

But he goes for your cheek instead. With a soft, chaste kiss. Just a brush of lips.

"It's okay," he murmurs against your skin. "I won't do anything you don't want me to." He shrugs off his jacket, drapes it over your shoulders. Leans close again, breath warm against your ear. "Sorry… for your back."

And the rest of that. damn night is blurs. Like a lucid dream.

You vagly get the church bathroom mirror, your lips swollen, neck marked you hidded under his jacket, the sticky mess on your lower back cooling under. If this wasn't church, if it wasn’t jake… And you, anyone with eyes would know exactly what happened.

The ride home… you don't remember words. Just the echo of Jake's mom asking if you have a fever, calling you "angel" in that sweet-mom voice while your thighs stick together and your pulse won't settle.

One solid fact was that he slipped a Snickers bar into your pocket—his pocket, technically his yeah, since you forgot to give his jacket back when you bolted from the car and ran hometo shower.

It's still on your nightstand weeks later. Melting slowly in its wrapper. Proof the fever dream was real. That the reasons your wetting your panties since, is Jake. Jake and the way used you.

And if you thought that one night would kill the anxious buzz you get whenever Jake's within five meters… Wrong.

Now it's worse. One look from him across the youth group room and you're rushing to the bathroom to wipe the insane rush of wetness between your thighs. And the slapping the idea of literally eating your nails in front of him with the expectation that he ends up fucking you hard some place.

Jake's side isn't better.

That night he slept better than he ever had. First weeks of summer felt golden. He thought he had you and basta. But you went from anxious-around-him to full avoidance. If it weren't for church services, the country club brunches, the upcoming youth group trip—he wouldn't even catch your shadow.

The dreams came roaring back. but Stronger. More vivid. More real.

He needs to see you. Hold you. Now.

The country club brunch is packed, linen tablecloths, clinking silverware, parents laughing too loud. And jake half-hard, eyes in void thinking of fucking you doggy style and bend you until you scream for him to stop. You see him first. He catch you second trying to regain consciousness with his meter long eyespack. You’re across the lawn, through the crowd, eyes locked. Neither of you looks away. But in Jake head it might as well be an halucination.

His mom calls yours over and he snap. You’re here, like really here. More plates are insisted upon. "We need another setting—Jake, scoot over, sweetheart."

Your heart slams so hard you taste copper. By some divine cruelty (or blessing), you're seated right next to him at a table too small for five. Everyone chats: weather, golf scores, your perfect tenis perfs, college plans for both of you.

And—-

Jake's hand slides under the table. Under your tennis skirt. You freeze mid-sentence. His palm is bigger than you remember, rougher, hoter from whatever secret workouts he does to punish himself.

He squeezes your thigh hard. And you know what it is. A punishment. You try to keep your face neutral. Smile at someone's joke. His hand creeps higher. You yank his wrist away and bolt upright.

"Sorry—restroom."

You walk—fast—to the farthest one possible. When a hand catches your wrist near the doors. He drags you into some ladies' room stall. Locks it.

"Jake—what are you—"

"Why are you avoiding me?"

You're stunned silent.

Why? WHY?!

"You're even avoiding me now…" He crowds you against the wall. The stall is spacious and tiny at the same time. His body heat is everywhere. "I accepted you. You accepted me. For who we are. So why avoid each other?"

"What… what are you talking about?"

He bends. Mouth at your ear. "That you're a needy little slut…" Voice calm, natural, like he's reading the weather. "And I have weird… fucked-up desires about you."

You meet his eyes. And the scariest part is that he's not even trying to hide it. Just says it like fact.

"Are you… Jake…"

His head drops to your shoulder, kissing your neck. a hand slides to your hip. "I'm hard."

Your brain short-circuits.

"I still dream about you. It didn't go away. I fuck my hand remembering your throat squeezing me. Your insides clenching. I even got hard in the last days of school just because you finally stopped biting your nails."

You're breathing too loud and he straightens and locks eyes. His thumb grazes your lips. "Have you let someone else touch you?"

Head shake.

"Sunghoon?"

Shake.

"Any of the guys at the club?"

Shake.

His smile blooms slowly, victorious. "I knew it. So we're good to each other?"

"Hm?"

"I've been thinking about it, angel. About God's plan. Maybe we're meant for each other. Don't you think?"

You bat your lashes in pure incomprehension. He slides a hand around your neck, gently but possessive.

"I like to bully you…" He says as his thumb strokes your pulse. "And you love it when I use you. Right?"

He looks at you like a kid begging for the one toy he can't live without. And now the toy… Is you.

You've circled it in your head too. Mostly terrified he'd tell his friends, or confess it to father or any brother from the church. But once the panic faded with rationality… you realized… That, maybe, you never hated him.

You just wanted to be special. To someone. To him. The person everyone loves, and you couldn’t reach. To have something only you get from Jake. His dark dreams. His secret desires. Let that be yours. Only yours. The saint's secret dreams.

You nod.

He smirks. "Say it."

"…Yes."

His expression lights up brighter than when he won valedictorian last spring.

"You'll be mine?"

You shy half-nod. Eyes on his. "…hm."

"Good girl. My angel." He attacks, soft kisses everywhere except your mouth. Jaw. Cheek. Temple. Collarbone. Throat. Shoulder. Each one reverent. Worshipful. You melt. Your legs get weaker and weaker, but Jake wedges a thigh between yours to hold you up. He stops at your lips, with his thumb traces them.

"Why won't you let me kiss you?"

You whisper: "I… wanted to give my first kiss to my boyfriend."

He clicks with starry eyes, searching. "You've never been kissed?"

Another head shake. His pupils blow dark. Saint Jake is gone.

"Let me kiss you then."

"Why would I?"

"Let's date." He almost order you simply and logical. "How can I let someone else have you if you're mine? Let's tell our parents later. Let's tell everyone—so no one tries anything. wierd with you."

Very rich coming from him.

"I'll take such good care of you." He kiss your jaw. "I'll let you have anything you want." Kiss your neck. "I'll reward you when you're good. I'll help you with… everything…"

Anything? Really anything?

"Would you…” you hesitate, “Would you withdraw from head of youth group? Give my name?"

Jake smirks. "If you're mine… anything."

He closes the toilet lid and sits. Drags you forward slowly by the wirst. "Then… will you let me kiss you?"

You half-nod, but then whisper: "…Okay."

You lean in for a peck, but he pulls back.

"I want to see you on your knees. Come here… and beg me for a kiss."

Your heart jackhammers. But the idea… You don't hate it. So you execute. You sink on your knees on cold tile, yyes up at him. And just like that he exhales hard. Head falls back against the wall for a second.

"God… your eyes from this angle." His hand runs through your hair until his fingers find the rubber band and he slides it off. Jake twists it around his own wrist like a trophy. "I love how wrecked you look already."

You beg him for the first time, shy and softly trembling. "Please… kiss me."

He don’t even makes you wait of act up, Jake just pulls you up. And gives you your first kiss. His. No one else's. He's hungry. Hungrier. His lips bite yours, all gentle then sharp. His tongue sucks yours into his mouth like he's starving. It’s wet, and you try to move and wipe your mouth, with one hand Jake cups your jaw. The other fists your hair.

You pull back gasping.

"Jake—our families. They're waiting. They'll question—"

He scoffs with a smirk, eyes completely blown.

"No one would ever believe what's happening right now. Because it's me. And it's you."

He doubles down. Grabs the unspent hem of your skirt—the one you didn't realize you'd stopped fidgeting with, and stuffs it into your mouth.

"They could never imagine you're about to show me how wet you are by sliding these panties down and spreading your legs for me, right angel?" "Or that you're gonna fuck yourself on my hand after."

an electric shock runs through your whole body. "And after I taste you… I'll keep your panties. So when I miss my angel, I can remind myself until I catch you again. Hm?"

He sits back. Stroking himself slow. Pulling your hair just enough to keep your eyes on his.

No one would ever guess.

He's right. The end ~

Afterstory :

Just note that these two Never go all the way until their wedding night lmao. They got very creative but never really do it! (And yes five years into marriage, during one very drunk games night with the boys, Jake get cocky, lost a bet, and “lent” his wife to Jay for like… 15 minutes. He watched. He hated it. Never happened again. Lesson learned: some fantasies look better in his head than in real life. And keeps her all to himself like the possessive prayer-boy he still is. 😏

Anyway thanks for riding this rollercoaster with me at first the plot was reader turns 18 and can suddenly hear people desires (any cherrymagic lover in the room???) but then one day she try to wake up sweet pure ikeu and discover he's obssesed by her and somehow it turned into this shit tada. Sleep tight, dream dirty love y'all and can't wait to hear you hehehehehe 💕 I'm tired... Lassiie...

MASTERLSIT

I summon the holy TG : Thk u so so much to my girlypop @jayjw16enxp@nithxhoon, @ikeuatic @puphees @raven-unkind @hoondrop @heekolazz @thesundys @w2hoonki @jaerisdiction @keuri @v-irtujake @moasshi @wonnies-girl @seungiesdoll @jakeintoit @s4eungie @scarett-lover23 @loveminlive @isagistar @aarriiaa1

@eemchaee @gunilsguns @ashayein @1-800-peakyblinders @choeryyxyz @simj4ke @heavenlyjake @heeevangelizesmevangelizesme @heeseung64 @sotyphoonyouth @mheretoreadff @heejunluvr @choeryyxyz @hoonprksung @schniti-is-in-the-house @ii2sanrio @woniedoyouloveme @saeris-world @gonorrheaisme @soobiverse @ikeubae @wonarchy @04angelbaby

@nanaalaia @hyucjj @taesnumber1 @xxueisa @chibi-rach @shawnyle @littllex @ssinjake @endukki @yvampyr @xoenhalover @lynnlynnuuashh @jaeyunsmochi @drkbl00d

[wunation]

THE DOLLHOUSE: la apertura - one

“YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR THIS EXPERIMENT BECAUSE YOU ARE VISUALLY PERFECT. WE ARE TESTING LOVE AND THE CIRCUMSTANCES IT TAKES TO CREATE IT. YOU ARE NOW A DOLL. MORE WILL ENTER THE DOLLHOUSE, BUT YOU MUST BE BETTER THAN THE OTHERS. EVERY MONTH, A FEMALE DOLL WILL BE PLACED IN THE DOLLHOUSE. SHE WILL BE YOUR TICKET OUT. THIS IS A COMPETITION AND ONLY THE WINNER MAY LEAVE. IF SHE DOES NOT FALL IN LOVE WITHIN A MONTH'S TIME, SHE WILL DIE AND WE WILL BEGIN WITH A MORE PROMISING FEMALE DOLL.”

wc: 3079

angst, eventual smut, love interest undecided

prologue

day 01.5

"it is currently december 31, nine pm. as you can see on the monitor to the left, my trainee scientists have already acquired yet another female to cycle into the dollhouse. jung miyeon was unfortunately disposed of this morning, as her time within the dollhouse did nothing to further our cause," began donghyun banks. a sigh escaped his thin pink lips as a gaunt hand brushed the white hair from his forehead. it took every fiber of his being to remain formal in such an agitated state; he was beyond furious that fourteen women had been placed in that mansion and not a single one appealed to any of the ten males that took permanent residency there. he couldn't see why things had failed to unfold as he would've liked. "lest i must remind every watcher in attendance—both physically and digitally—that this is our fifteenth and last month keeping project D-7 active. on january 31, only the member successful in capturing this woman's heart will be released into the world. everyone that remains will be terminated."

he was too deep in his own in denial to say it aloud, but everyone was aware that unless the project was finally a success, the watchers were going to pull their funding, thus calling for the immediate disposal of everyone inhabiting the dollhouse. making their deaths his decision was the only way he found he could keep his dignity intact. little things of such nature tended to eat away at him until the madness becomes a thick fog and he's unable to see two inches ahead.

"i don't think you used that word right—lest," o'day adachi spoke from behind his computer. his thick brunette curls fell onto his forehead in frizzy ringlets, adding a gentle contrast to his honey skin. with each passing day, he was growing more agitated by the late hours that yielded absolutely nothing. his superior had a habit of pushing him past his limits without so much as a thank you in return, which had caused the younger man to stop holding his tongue as tightly as he once had. he shrugged his broad shoulders. "you would've sounded just as smart if you'd said "in case" instead."

banks felt his left eye twitch involuntarily. he turned to address the scientist, and took in a deep breath. mindful of the camera, he chirped, "o'day! why don't you explain to everyone what you've been engineering recently? i'm quite pleased with the work you've done."

obliging his request, o'day turned his monitor around. on his screen was a dream-like image of a young woman sitting in the middle of a wheat field. she was the perfect depiction of peace. her torso swayed in time with the wind pushing her hair back, her eyes were closed as her fingers grazed the golden wheat. it appeared as though a milky filter was placed atop the video; it looked as though it were hiding behind a panel of glass on a rainy winter morning.

"maria and i noticed that the last few girls got off to a terrible start in the dollhouse because of the nightmares they had to endure, so i got busy working on a dream manipulator. that, right there, is what's going through (y/n)'s head right now. i haven't quite figured out how to do complex dreams and i've found through the testing period that it left riki very impressionable, but those are really the only two issues i'm having with the program," he responded proudly. he wasn't an overly prideful person, though it felt nice to get recognition for his inventions every now and again. it was a rare event, which he intended to savor as long as he could. "it's pretty sick, isn't it? if i have to be here, the least i can do is make sure the dolls sleep well at night."

to his right, maria estrada began to snicker. you didn't need a close look to see banks' tan skin turn a deep red shade. he despised that tiny implication that working under him was a difficult job to have. it was small, but it was enough to leave him wondering why he had decided to stream his documentary live. there have been so many moments he's longed to edit out throughout the many months D-7 has been active... too many to count. he opened his mouth to give a heated response, only to be interrupted by the blonde woman.

"oh, her eyes are opening!"

-

as the wheat field began to fizzle into a dark nothingness, you struggled to regain consciousness. when you were finally able to pry your gunk-filled eyes open, your vision was incredibly blurry. you could hardly make out the baby pink of the walls around you. you longed to feel around for clues regarding your location and found yourself without the strength. with no such luck, all you were left with was a monitor tightly locked around your ankle and your fingertips grazing the smooth skin of your arm. slowly, you began to regain feeling in the rest of your hands.

as you fought to remember how you reached this unfamiliar destination, panic began to settle in. the harder you thought, the more frightened you became. you were able to recall being approached by a man in red as you were leaving the library one tuesday morning, though that was where your memories began to jumble together until you couldn't tell one thing from another. you were unsure how much time had passed between then and now. for a moment, it felt as though your legs were made of jelly. there was nothing keeping you bound in place, and yet you still couldn't bring yourself to move. it was difficult to focus on one thing for more than a few moments, no matter how hard you tried to piece together where you were. you noticed that you'd been dressed in a knee-length lime green dress, which were accompanied by a pair of hot pink pumps. your arms were crossed across your chest, like someone had prepared you for your casket.

"(y/n), you may rise," you heard a voice echo from overhead. you winced at the sound, slowly sitting up on the bed. you looked all around the room for its owner, but nothing caught your attention. "the monitor around your ankle is to ensure that you follow our directions very carefully. there is a little map located on the nightstand to your left; use it to make your way to the backyard. failure to do so will result in termination. welcome to the dollhouse, we hope you enjoy your stay."

following the eerie voice came a shock. it began at your ankle and made its way up the rest of your body, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat within the seconds it took to do so. as a tear ran down your cheek, you reached over and wrapped your fingers around the paper in question. the map itself was very simple and easy to follow, as though it were written for a child to comprehend. there was a large x in one room, which was labeled "(y/n)."

it felt like you were switched to autopilot. the second you'd given the map a look, you found yourself swinging your feet over the edge of the bed. your heels hit the floor and all you were able to think about was the route which would take you to your destination. everything around you scrambled together, leaving you but the click clack of your foot steps to remind you that you were still conscious. in a moment of clarity, you wondered if this was what sleep walking felt like.

take a left, then go straight. next is the stairs, and then...

and then you stood atop soft green grass. there was so much happening all at once, you were unsure of what to focus on. in order to keep yourself from becoming overwhelmed, you simply stood still and allowed your vision to even out. as the blurry figures surrounding you materialized into seven unique men, you listened to the classical music floating through the air. it reminded you of home—the sweet sound of the piano. for a moment, it took you back to the first time your tiny fingers touched those delicate keys at the age of six.

you wished to shout, but all you could muster was a small, broken voice. "what the fuck is this?"

looking around the group of men, you noticed a brunette crying. tears flowed freely down his tanned cheeks in steady streams; yang jungwon kept shooting him sympathetic glances, yet he made no attempt to wipe them away. instead, he sniffled and did his best to put on a smile for you. jake sim's mind kept wandering back to the fourteen women who came before you—the fourteen who had to die because he and his brothers were unable to please the watchers. he looked at you and he saw them. in that moment, it felt as though the tears would never stop.

diagonally to your left, a tall man with dirty blonde hair and deep skin spoke in a harsh tone. "you guys are stressing her out! i've got it this time."

you didn't know what he meant by that, but everyone else seemed to. within seconds, the group had dwindled down to a mere two—you and the grumpy giant. for a fleeting second, you thought you might be in danger. he was intimidating by nature, given that he towered over you and appeared to have a habit of glaring at his friends. they must've been his problem, for the moment they were out of sight, he visibly calmed down. he raked a large hand through his messy hair before taking another moment to smooth down the front of his suit.

when he finally directed his attention toward you, he sighed. "what's your name?"

"(y/n)," you responded cautiously. you were still upset and trying to decide whether or not he served as a threat to you. he sounded nothing like the man from your room, though you would never be aware if they worked together. that man had spoken as though he were multiple people.

we hope you enjoy your stay.

"hi, (y/n), i'm seonwoo. you can't say that here."

"what, fuck?" you snapped in a low voice. trying to contain the sarcastic laughter that had begun to bubble up in your stomach, you looked at him with narrowed eyes. "after everything that's happened to me, the least you owe me is my freedom of speech."

"it's not about me, it's about them—the watchers. i know you're angry and you have every right to be, but everyone at this party is in the same boat you are. you're not you when they put you in this house; you can't be. i'm not smart, so the truth might sound fake deep or something coming from me, but the watchers get off on pulling our strings. i'm probably going to get in trouble for saying this, but they'd control your period cycle if they could. we're nothing but dolls to them, (y/n). we're part of their little game and refusing to play puts your life in danger. that blonde over there, riki, tried to escape once and he wasn't seen for twenty two days. he gave up around eight and went to bed that night, but jay said he wasn't in their room the next morning. we knew he couldn't have gotten out; he just isn't clever enough. seunghoon, maybe. riki? not a chance.

days went by and we thought he was dead, you know? no one really expected him to wander up from the basement all groggy and half alive, covered in those nasty electrical burns. none of us are really close, but i don't know... we mourned him because that could've so easily been us. we have all the time in the world to endure their punishments, but your days here are limited, even if you get lucky. please do us all a favor and don't be stupid."

not knowing who was who made seonwoo's story difficult to follow, and yet the genuine despair in his voice made you more inclined to believe him. you sneakily looked over his shoulder in search of yuta, who he had pointed toward a few moments ago. a drink in hand, the blonde had his eyes trained on the two of you, as did the raven haired male to his right. after further inspection of nishimura riki, you were able to pinpoint the faint burn scars that radiated from the tips of his fingers and made their way toward his second knuckles.

it took everything you had not to break down. you contemplated running back to your room, but you feared being put into a drug induced coma as a result of leaving the party.

"i just want to go home," you admitted weakly. you lifted your shaky left hand to fiddle with the cleanly bangles on the opposite wrist.

"all you have to do is pretend to be happy, princess. be the perfect little barbie they want you to be and your chances skyrocket," seonwoo joked dryly. "happy new year, by the way."

come ten minutes till midnight, you'd met nearly everyone. it was an odd feeling—forcing yourself to put on a pair of rose-colored glasses and smile through the morose feeing that latched onto your heart. with each passing second, you felt yourself retreating further and further into your shell. each meeting had been nearly the same. sometimes, men such as jake and seunghoon would be truthful about their kidnappings and draw you out, but then you'd hear another compliment about how pretty your eyes are and feel yourself crawl a little further back inside.

"i heard there's going to be fireworks soon," a calming voice spoke behind you. it wasn't as delicate as seonwoo's or as chirpy as jake's, but rather deep and smooth, like black coffee. you noticed a slight lisp peeking through the rest of his diction, but you didn't mind. it was nice to see something imperfect in a place engineered to be pristine. within moments you were able to conclude that this was lee heeseung, the last man on your list of people to greet. "jungwon thinks the watchers are going to go all out to celebrate your arrival."

"oh yeah? and why is that?" you asked. you tried to sound as happy and cheerful for heeseung as you had for everyone else, though you just couldn't keep up the act any longer. your shoulders fell as a deep breath left your lips. you thought back to the many years your mother had scolded you for such bad posture and a thought that would've once made you laugh was suddenly ruined forever. you'd never think back on it and laugh the same way, and that scared you. in a place like this, what would keep you from drowning if not your pleasant memories? "what's the point of celebrating something like this?"

"honestly? i don't know. they treat it like it's some special occasion when new girls come. you look like you'd rather be anywhere else, just like everyone else."

standing beside you now, he offered you a lopsided smile.

"you think? i feel like a deflated balloon, so please tell me that i can go inside soon." you worked your palms up and down the base of your arms, trying to warm yourself up enough to fight off the pesky goosebumps that had taken root nearly an hour and a half ago. in the warmth of your bed, you'd be able to cry as much as you like without being chastised by anyone. in the comfort of your bedroom, you'd be free to have a meltdown without worrying about being a barbie.

"you can go in after the fireworks if you want, i guess. no one was really forcing you to stay, but it's good that you got to know everyone. it's nice to remember that we're all human," he responded.

he understood that deflated feeling better than anyone else. there were so many days he contemplated just giving up, contemplated disregarding the watchers' wishes and accepting his inevitable death. he'd been trapped in the dollhouse for so long, he'd forgone all hope of leaving. he looked at you and knew that you were to die if none of them could manipulate you into a loving relationship, and he had no clue which of the two he found scarier.

after few minutes of silence, you felt heeseung drape his jacket over your shoulders. the velvety fabric nearly swallowed you whole, but it was too welcoming for you to oppose. you looked up with a grateful smile and quickly pushed your arms through the large holes. it felt like you were five again and playing dress up in your father's old suits, though you couldn't complain. as you parted your pink painted lips to thank him, someone else had beat you to it.

without warning, riki slinked am arm around your waist. close to your ear, he said, "i'm sure she appreciates the gesture, seung. she looks so cute in your jacket, doesn't she?"

heeseung rolled his chocolate eyes at the younger man and chuckled softly. "leave her alone, man."

at first, you had tried to stay tuned in to the pair's ongoing bickering, though it became impossible once the sky began to light up with the vibrant blues and greens of the fireworks. they continued to shout at one another over the constant pops and bangs, while your eyes remained trained on the sky.

you imagined most people would interpret the fireworks as a sign of good fortune, but for you, that wasn't the case. everything in the dollhouse was so fake. from the statues in the garden to the expensive suit each man wore and even apple trees outlining the yard, nothing seemed genuine. these people—these watchers—they used money to compensate for their criminal acts. they had put you in a fancy dress with the hopes that it would make you forget about your kidnapping and slip into the life of luxury they provided. they were grooming you and being unsure why they were doing so was absolutely terrifying.

taglist: @cherryw0n @bisexaeriup @simsdoll @yatta-exe @vamp1rhee0801 @rinkouzme @firstclassjaylee

[wooverses]

GHOST — PARK SUNGHOON

idol! sunghoon x olympic figure skater! reader

IN WHICH sunghoon is named a torchbearer for the 2026 winter olympics and his eyes lead towards one of the USA figure skaters.

prev | masterlist | next

mentions; the usa figure skaters, cha jun-hwan (korean figure skater), megan (katseye), and enhypen members.

warnings; profanity, sunghoon being delulu, probably figure skating inaccuracies.

notes; chapter 2! i forgot to add this but this is my first time doing an smau and this will, most likely, be a shorter au! but if anyone has any questions or suggestions or even wants to talk about this au pls do!

taglist (cmnt to be added!); @gothhyucks @wobblymug @with-luv-jen @k-4ttiee @losraire

[swiftjay23]

RENT-FREE! -> enhypen hyung line's favourite roommate!

rent-free /rɛnt-fri/ (verb) The act of turning “you don’t have to pay rent” into “you have to pay with your dignity, your gag reflex, and every drop of self-respect you had left when you moved in.” RULES ON THE FRIDGE: -Panties banned after 8 p.m. -Movie nights on someone’s lap. -Counter sex while dinner cooks. -Daily spankings, gropes, throat-fucks, and creampies like it’s rent payment. INSPIRED BY 'YOUR TURN' STARRING @mssishipi!

pairing: roommates!hyungline x reader !

warnings: poly relationship strong language possessiveness jealousy alcohol mild power imbalance crashing dates fights slight drama between the guys porn with plot

warnings (smut): read if you're okay with filthy shit (mama them men are assholes) free use spit roasting gangbang creampie breeding kink cumplay degradation size kink squirting overstimulation edging spit play choking unprotected sex double penetration anal sex aftercare cumplay titjob titplay blowjob handjob cunnilingus oral (both f and m rec) mean doms choking manhandling rough sex recording overstimulation aftercare heavy

playlist: High for This by The Weeknd [] Friends by Chase Atlantic [] Oxytocin by Billie Eilish [] Swim by Chase Atlantic []

likes and reblogs for a cookie!

☆ WORD COUNT: 24.9K!

(Masterlist)

THE FLYER WAS TAPED CROOKED TO THE COMMUNITY BOARD in the lobby of your old building, curling at one corner like it had tried to escape and given up halfway through. The corkboard itself was a graveyard of desperation, lost cats with blurry photos, guitar lessons from a man named Reginald who swore he toured “almost professionally,” a babysitting offer written in glitter pen. But this one, this violently neon pink rectangle, felt different.

Black Sharpie, pressed hard enough to dent the cardstock.

ROOM FOR RENT — ONE FEMALE ROOMMATE WANTED

- 5-bedroom apartment downtown. Utilities split 5 ways. No pets, no drama, no bullshit. - Must be clean, chill, and okay with guys. Serious inquiries only. - Four guys already here, all employed, clean(ish), no drama. Serious inquiries only. - Text 82-10-XXXX-XXXX. First come, first served. 

Don't waste our time.

No photos. No bullet points about ‘respectful boundaries’ or ‘shared Netflix password.’ Just that blunt, cocky little block of text, like they knew exactly what kind of person would bite anyway. The rent figure was unreal, half what you'd been paying for your shoebox studio that smelled faintly of regret and yesterday's takeout. You stared at it for a full minute, thumb hovering over your phone screen, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it does when you're about to make a decision that's either genius or catastrophic.  

And then there was the line written in red pen, scrawled untidily, looking like a disastrous attempt at cursive.

“She better be hot lol”

Crossed out once, aggressively. Then underlined twice, like whoever wrote it had second thoughts about the shame and decided to recommit. You stared at that part the longest.

Your current apartment smelled like damp carpet and stale air no matter how many candles you burned. The windows rattled every time the train passed. Your landlord had the audacity to send out a mass email about a “maintenance fee adjustment” that was definitely just code for I bought a new car and you’re helping pay for it.

Rent had started to feel like a chokehold. And this, four guys, one girl, big downtown apartment, utilities split five ways, was a stupidly good number. Too good. Which should have been your first red flag. 

Your reflection in the lobby mirror looked tired. A little reckless. The kind of girl who was one bad decision away from either ruining her life or improving it dramatically. You took a picture of the flyer. You hesitated.

You zoomed in on the red scribble. You told yourself you were an adult. That you could handle four random men in a shared space. That this was just housing, not a horror movie opening scene.  Then you texted the number before your common sense could wrestle your thumbs away.

You: Hi, saw the flyer for the roommate spot. Still available? Interested if the details match up. What's the move-in date?

The three dots appeared almost instantly. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. Your stomach did that awful, fluttery dip it does before you step into something you can’t undo.

Unknown: yeah it's open. u got a name sweetheart?

Sweetheart. You actually rolled your eyes. You told yourself you rolled your eyes. But something warm slid low in your stomach anyway. Casual ownership. Teasing. A test.

You: Y/N. And yeah, I do. When can I come see it?

The typing bubbles came back. Stayed. Disappeared. Came back again. Then your phone vibrated with a voice note instead of text. You stared at it for a full second.

Who the fuck sends voice notes to strangers?

You slipped in one earbud like you were about to overhear something you weren’t meant to. You hit play. Chaos. Not the polite kind. Not the muffled, distant kind. The kind that sounds like bodies moving and furniture scraping and too many voices in one space.

“—told you the flyer was too obvious, dumbass—”

“Shut the fuck up, she texted, didn’t she?”

“Bet she’s mid. Fifty says she’s mid.”

“Fifty says she’s a freak who’ll cry after one night.”

Explosive laughter. Low and rough and layered. Someone swore. There was a thud like someone got shoved into a couch. Another voice yelling, “Give me the phone—”

Your pulse was in your throat. It felt intrusive. Intimate. Like you were already inside their space, hearing something raw and unfiltered. Then the chaos snapped. Cut clean. A different presence took over. Closer to the mic. Lower.

“...Y/N, right?” Your name sounded slower in his mouth. Like he’d rolled it around once before saying it.

“This is Heeseung.”

The way he said it wasn’t introduction. It was declaration. The background noise dimmed, not because the room got quieter, but because he stepped away from it. You could picture it without trying: him turning his back to the others, leaning against something, one hand braced on a counter, phone lifted close enough that his breath ghosted the mic.

The kind of voice that didn’t rush. The kind that didn’t need to. “Place is still open. Come by tomorrow. 7 p.m. sharp. We’ll be here.”

We’ll be here. Not I’ll be here. A collective. A warning. There was a beat of silence. Not awkward. Deliberate. “Bring your shit if you like what you see. We don’t do second viewings.”

And then it ended. No goodbye. No emoji. No softening. Just the click of the recording stopping, leaving his voice hanging in your ear like smoke in a closed room. You sat on your sagging futon with the cheap springs poking through the cushion and replayed it. Twice.

The arguing in the background. The laughter. The careless comments. The way he had cut through all of it like a knife sliding into silk. You told yourself they sounded like idiots. You told yourself this was exactly the kind of environment you’d sworn you’d never put yourself in. But your thighs pressed together anyway, tension curling low and restless, not quite fear and not quite excitement.

You imagined the apartment. Exposed brick. Too much space. Music playing too loud. A kitchen that actually had room to breathe in. Four men who moved through it like they owned it. And one empty room.

Waiting. You should have blocked the number. Should have deleted the thread. Should have found a nice, quiet girls-only share in the suburbs where the biggest drama would be someone stealing your almond milk. Instead, you typed back.

You: 7 p.m. tomorrow. Address?

The reply came faster this time.

Heeseung: [pinned location]Don’t be late, sweetheart. We hate waiting.

You read that last line more than once. We hate waiting. It sounded less like a preference and more like a rule. You packed that night with a strange kind of calm. One duffel bag. Just enough clothes to rotate for a few days. Toiletries. Charger. The essentials. You folded each item slowly, like you were preparing for something bigger than just a new address.

Your studio looked even smaller with your things missing. The walls felt closer. The air heavier. You stood in the middle of it and imagined tomorrow. The elevator ride up. The door opening. Four sets of eyes. The apartment smelling like expensive cologne and something darker. Smoke, maybe. Leather. Ego.

You imagined him. Them. All four of them. Either unfairly good-looking men who were complete assholes, or unimpressive men who were still complete assholes. The asshole part was a constant. The hotness was the only variable.

Not that it mattered. Of course it didn’t.

You didn’t know his face, but you knew the voice. Low. Steady. Amused. The kind of voice that didn’t rush for anyone.

You imagined the smirk you’d heard through the speaker, lazy, confident, practiced. Probably rich, too. Not new-money loud, but old-money careless. Daddy’s money had a look. It looked like never checking price tags.

You zipped the duffel closed. This was reckless. Stupid, even. The kind of decision that looked sensible only from far away, like a bruise that passed for lavender in low light. Rent had been pressing in for months, a dull gray weight at the base of your skull, constant as weather. You told yourself that was all this was. Survival. Logistics. Math.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. There was something about his voice. Not the depth of it, not even the amusement. It was the contrast, the velvet laid carefully over something serrated. Chaos humming behind glass. Control presented like a gift.

It had sounded dark blue through the speaker. Not navy. Not midnight. Something electric and expensive. The kind of blue that didn’t apologize for swallowing light. You should have been afraid of it.

Maybe you were. But the risk didn’t feel like falling. Falling was abrupt. Colorless. Final. This felt different. It felt like stepping across the gold line in a painting, the one the artist never meant anyone to cross. Like touching wet paint just to see if it would stain. Like walking into a story that had already decided what to do with you.

7 p.m. Sharp. You arrive at 6:58 p.m.

Not because you’re punctual by nature, but because something about Don’t be late. We hate waiting. lodged under your skin and stayed there all day.

The building is taller than you expected. Glass-fronted. Industrial. The kind of place that tries to look effortless and ends up looking expensive instead. The lobby smells faintly of artificially scented cleaner, probably lemon, and polished concrete. Exposed brick climbs one wall in a deliberate, curated way that says urban charm instead of structural compromise.

You stand in front of the elevator with your duffel bag hooked over one shoulder and a medium-sized suitcase at your side. You told yourself you’d bring only what you needed for a week.

You lied.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft metallic sigh. You step inside. Your reflection in the mirrored walls looks smaller than you feel. Lip gloss reapplied in the car. Hair brushed back into place. A quiet, deliberate choice in your outfit, effortless enough to pretend you didn’t try, fitted enough to know you did.

The numbers climb. Your pulse climbs with them. You tell yourself this is housing. Just housing. Four men sharing rent in a five-bedroom apartment isn’t unheard of. This isn’t a cult. This isn’t a frat house. This isn’t—

The elevator dings. The doors part. And the first thing you hear is laughter. It spills into the hallway like it lives there. Low, overlapping, careless. The door to their unit is already open. You don’t knock. You step inside.

The apartment is bigger than the pictures could’ve shown. High ceilings with steel beams running across them. Floor-to-ceiling windows pouring in late afternoon light that turns everything gold. A massive sectional couch in charcoal gray dominates the living space. There’s a long dining table made of reclaimed wood, scuffed in places that look intentional.

Music hums low from somewhere, bass-heavy, lazy. And then, you see them. All four of them. Shirtless. You stop walking. They’re scattered across the living area in a way that suggests they were doing something physical, lifting, maybe, but not something that required shirts. One is crouched by a stack of flattened cardboard boxes. Another leans against the kitchen island with a bottle of water tipped to his lips. Someone else stands near the couch, forearms flexed as he adjusts the hem of his joggers.

They notice you at the same time. Conversation dies. It’s not dramatic. Not loud. It just… stops. Four pairs of eyes land on you. And stay there. You feel it before you process it. The weight of being looked at. Not glanced. Not politely assessed. Looked at. Slowly. Thoroughly. Like you’re an answer to a question they’ve already been debating.

The one by the kitchen island lowers his bottle first. He’s tall. Lean muscle, not bulky. Collarbone sharp under the light. Damp hair pushed back from his forehead like he’s just showered or run a hand through it too many times. His gaze drags over you without apology. From your shoes. Up your legs.

To your waist. Your chest. Your mouth. Your eyes. He doesn’t look away when you meet his stare. That has to be Heeseung. The voice fits.

“Y/N.”

It isn’t a question. Your name sounds different in the open air of the apartment. Deeper. Warmer. More tangible. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out steady, which surprises you.

He pushes off the island and walks toward you. The other three follow slower, not crowding but not retreating either. You become aware of everything at once. The quiet click of your suitcase wheels settling. The way your fingers tighten around the strap of your duffel. The faint sheen of sweat along their collarbones.

They must’ve been moving furniture. Or maybe they just wanted an excuse to be shirtless when you arrived. The thought hits you uninvited. And then,  you realize you’re staring, too. One of them, broader shoulders, dark hair falling into his eyes, lets out a low whistle.

“Not mid,” he mutters.

The guy beside him elbows his ribs. A cocky grin already spreading over his lips nonetheless before he disrupts it by caging his lower lip between his teeth. “Shut up.” Heat crawls up your neck.

Heeseung stops about three feet in front of you. Close enough that you can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. Close enough to smell something clean and subtle, soap, maybe, or skin warmed by movement. He tilts his head slightly.

“You’re on time.”

“I said I would be.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. Behind him, one of the others steps forward and grabs your suitcase handle before you can protest. “We’ll take that.”

It’s said casually, but there’s something about the way he says we again that makes your stomach dip. The fourth one finally speaks. “You bring everything?”

“Just enough to survive a week,” you reply.

He laughs. “Smart.” They move around you with unsettling ease. Not touching you. Not yet. But close enough that the air shifts when they pass. You step fully into the apartment as your suitcase is rolled toward the hallway. The door shuts behind you with a quiet click that feels louder than it should. You turn slowly, taking in the space.

The kitchen is massive, marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, open shelving that somehow looks organized despite the presence of four men. There are plants near the windows. A guitar propped casually against the wall.

This isn’t a mess. It isn’t chaotic. It’s lived-in. Comfortable. Dangerously comfortable. “Room’s down the hall,” Heeseung says. “Last one on the right.”

You nod, but you don’t move yet. Because they’re still looking at you. Not in a way that feels crude. But undeniably… interested. Assessing. One of them, taller than the rest, sharper features, leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. His eyes crinkle,  “So,” he says slowly. “You cool living with guys?” The question isn’t innocent. You lift your chin slightly.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

His gaze flickers, approval, maybe. The broad-shouldered one smirks.

“You get easily offended?”

“No.”

“You snore?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Got a boyfriend?”

The question lands differently. You glance at Heeseung. He hasn’t spoken. He’s watching you. Waiting. You meet his eyes and answer evenly, “No.”

The silence that follows is subtle, but it shifts something. Like a door quietly unlocking. Heeseung gestures down the hall. “Come see your room.”

You follow. The hallway is lined with closed doors. Music grows fainter as you move away from the main space. Your suitcase wheels roll softly against polished concrete. He opens the last door and steps aside to let you in first. The room is bigger than you expected.

Large window. Soft gray walls. A queen-sized bed frame already assembled. A desk near the corner. Closet doors sliding open to reveal empty hangers. It doesn’t feel like someone just left it. It feels like it was waiting.

You step inside. He follows. The others hover at the doorway, leaning casually against the frame like they’re watching a show. “Well?” one of them asks. You set your duffel down on the bed.

“It’s… really nice.” Heeseung walks to the window and pulls the curtain slightly, letting more light in.

“Told you. No bullshit.” He turns to face you fully. There’s something different now that you’re in a smaller space. More contained. More charged. You can feel the other three just outside the room. Listening. You cross your arms loosely.

“What’s the actual catch?”

One of the guys snorts from the hallway. Heeseung’s lips twitch. “No catch.”

“Four guys, one girl, cheap rent, no second viewings. There’s always a catch.”

He steps closer. Not enough to trap you. Just enough to make you aware of proximity. “We don’t like flakes,” he says quietly. “We don’t like drama. We don’t like people who pretend they’re chill and then aren’t.”

“And if I’m not?”

“Then you won’t last.”

The words aren’t cruel. They’re factual. You swallow. “Is that a threat?”

His gaze drops briefly to your mouth. Then back up. “It’s information.”

The other three laugh softly behind him. “You scared?” someone calls.

You step closer instead of back. “No.” And that’s the truth. You’re not scared. You’re wired. There’s a difference. He studies you for a long second. Then nods once.

“Good.” He steps back, creating space again. “You can move in tonight if you want.” Your heartbeat stutters.

“That was the deal.” One of them pushes off the doorframe. “Guess we’ve got a new roommate.” The broad-shouldered one grins. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

They disperse slightly after that. Not fully. But enough to let you breathe. You kneel on the bed to unzip your duffel, aware of eyes tracking the movement. A shirt comes out. Toiletry bag. A pair of heels you probably won’t need but packed anyway.

From the hallway, a voice says quietly, “She’s staying.”

“Obviously,” another replies.

You pretend not to hear. But your skin hums. Because beneath the jokes. Beneath the cocky questions. There’s something else. A tension that hasn’t snapped yet. An understanding that this isn’t just about splitting rent. You don’t know the rules. You don’t know the lines. But you feel them. Drawn. Invisible. Waiting. You stand and smooth your hands down your sides.

“I’ll bring the rest tomorrow.” Heeseung leans against the wall now, arms crossed. “Take your time.”

Your gaze locks again. The eye contact lingers too long to be accidental. Too steady to be polite. It’s not crude. It’s not rushed. It’s slow. Deliberate. Like he’s memorizing you.

And maybe, you’re memorizing him, too.

Friday night settles in outside the window, the sky deepening from gold to blue. You came here for cheap rent. For square footage. For practical reasons. But as the music in the living room turns louder and someone calls your name like you’ve always belonged here, you realize something quietly, dangerously simple. This wasn’t just a listing.

It was an invitation. And you accepted it. The kitchen island becomes your first battlefield.

Someone, Jay, you learn later, has already spread out a chaotic spread of takeout: greasy fried chicken in red-and-white buckets, japchae tangled in sesame oil, bulging containers of tteokbokki still steaming, a few lonely mandu that look like they've been fought over. Plastic forks and chopsticks clatter. No plates. No pretense of civility.

You slide onto one of the high stools, thighs sticking slightly to the leather from the heat still clinging to your skin after the move. Your thin white tank clings in all the wrong-right places, damp from nerves and the apartment's lazy, cold thermostat. No bra underneath because you'd changed into "comfy" clothes after unpacking the bare minimum. Big mistake.

Or the best one you've made all week. They circle like sharks who've already scented blood. Heeseung claims the stool right beside you without asking. His bare knee knocks yours under the island the second you settle. He doesn't move it. Neither do you. Jay drops onto the one across from you, broad shoulders taking up too much real estate. He leans forward on his elbows, forearms corded, watching you like you're the next thing on the menu.

Jake sprawls next to him, legs spread wide under the counter, one foot hooking casually around your ankle like it's always belonged there. He grins, pretty, boyish, filthy.

Sunghoon perches at the end like a king on his throne, long legs stretched out, one hand already tearing into a chicken wing. He licks sauce off his thumb slowly, eyes never leaving the front of your tank.

"Alright," Heeseung says, voice low and amused as he pops open a beer and slides one toward you without asking if you drink. "Introductions, since you're staying."

He drags a knuckle down your bare arm, slow, deliberate, like he's testing how soft you are. Goosebumps erupt instantly. "I'm Heeseung." His fingers linger at your wrist, thumb pressing your pulse point. "You already knew that." You nod, throat dry. Take a sip of the beer. It's cold. Sharp. Does nothing to cool the heat pooling between your legs.

Jay jerks his chin up. "Park Jongseong. Jay." He reaches across the island, grabs a piece of tteokbokki with his fingers, holds it out to you. "Open." You hesitate half a second. He raises one brow. "Don't make me feed you like a baby, sweetheart."

Your lips part. He pushes the sticky rice cake inside, thumb brushing your bottom lip as he pulls back. Sauce smears. He doesn't wipe it off. Just watches it glisten there.

"Jake Sim," the one with the foot around your ankle says. He leans in, elbow on the counter, chin in hand. His gaze drops blatantly to your chest. Your nipples have pebbled hard against the thin cotton, traitorous little peaks begging for attention. He bites his lip, lets out a soft, appreciative hum. "Fuck, you're not wearing a bra. Bold move, roomie."

Heat floods your face. Also lower. Sunghoon doesn't bother with words at first. He just stares, cold, assessing, predatory. Then he speaks, voice velvet and mean.

"Park Sunghoon." He drags a fry through sauce, offers it to you the same way Jay did. When you lean forward to take it, he pulls it back at the last second, makes you chase. You feel ridiculous. Wet. "Good girl." The praise lands like a slap. Your thighs clench.

Heeseung chuckles low beside you. His hand finds your knee under the island, big, warm, possessive. Slides up your inner thigh slow enough that you could stop him. You don't. His fingers stop just shy of where your shorts end, thumb stroking the crease where thigh meets hip. Back and forth. Lazy. Teasing the edge of your underwear.

"So," Jay says around a mouthful of chicken, eyes locked on the outline of your nipples like they're speaking to him personally. "What's your deal, Y/N? You always this easy to read?"

Jake snorts. Leans closer. "Bet she's already soaked just from us looking."

"Shut up," you mutter, but it comes out breathy. Weak.

Heeseung's thumb presses harder. "She is," he says quietly, like it's a fact he's confirming for the group. His other hand reaches up, casual, like he's reaching for more food, and brushes the side of your breast through the tank. The pad of his thumb grazes your nipple. Circles once. 

You gasp. Small. Involuntary. Sunghoon smirks. "Told you. Instant slut for attention." Jay exchanges a look with Jake, dirty, conspiratorial. They both laugh under their breath.

"Pass her the spicy one," Jake says. "See if she cries."

Heeseung finally pulls his hand from between your legs, only to slide it around your waist instead. Tugs you closer until your side is flush against his bare chest. Skin on skin. Heat on heat. "Eat," he murmurs against your ear. Breath hot. "You're gonna need the energy."

You pick up a piece of chicken with shaking fingers. They watch every bite like it's porn. Sunghoon leans forward. "Question." You meet his eyes. Dark. Unblinking.

"You gonna pretend you're not dripping for us all night, or can we skip the bullshit and get to the part where you spread on the counter?"

Your chopsticks freeze halfway to your mouth. Jake groans softly. "Hyung—"

"What?" Sunghoon shrugs. "We're all thinking it. She's sitting here with her tits out, clit probably throbbing, acting like she didn't come here to get fucked stupid by four guys who don't even know her last name."

Heeseung's hand slides higher again, this time under your tank. Palm flat against your bare stomach. Fingers splay wide. Claiming territory. Jay licks sauce off his lips. Slow. "Rent-free, remember? That pussy's been ours since you texted back."

Jake's foot slides higher up your calf. "Bet she clenches just hearing that." You do. They know. Heeseung's thumb finds your nipple again, pinches lightly through the fabric. Rolls it.

"Finish eating," he says, voice deceptively gentle. "Then we're gonna show you how we collect rent around here."

The words are disgusting. The way your body responds is worse. You swallow hard. Sauce still sticky on your lip. They wait. Patient. Filthy. Certain. Because they already know, you're not leaving this island until every inch of you is marked.

And the food? It's barely started getting cold. The takeout disappears faster than it should, mostly because your mouth is never empty for long.

Jay keeps tearing off pieces of chicken, dipping them in sauce, holding them to your lips like it's his personal mission to keep you full. His fingers linger every time, brushing your tongue, smearing gloss and grease across your chin until you're sticky and flushed. "Good girl," he murmurs once, low enough that only you hear it, but loud enough that the others smirk.

Heeseung never stops touching. His hand starts at your knee again, then climbs, slow, shameless, until it's high on your inner thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles over the damp cotton of your shorts. When you shift, trying to close your legs, he just spreads them wider with his knee. Casual. Like adjusting furniture. His other hand stays under your tank, palm flat against your stomach, fingers occasionally drifting up to pluck at your nipples like he's testing how hard they can get before you whimper.

They do get hard. Painfully so. The thin fabric does nothing to hide it.

Sunghoon leans back, legs spread, one hand lazily palming himself through his sweats while he watches. "Bet she's clenching every time Jay feeds her," he says, voice dripping. "Like a little hungry bird. Open wide, princess, here comes the next load."

Jake laughs, soft and filthy, leaning so close his breath fans your ear. "You're so fucking cute when you're pretending not to like it, baby. Look at you, your body is begging, thighs shaking. You gonna come just from us looking at you like the slut you are?" He drags his tongue along the shell of your ear. "Say 'please' and maybe we'll let you grind on the stool till you soak it."

You don't say please.

You just swallow another bite Jay pushes past your lips, choke a little when Heeseung's fingers slip under the leg of your shorts and graze the edge of your folds, wet, swollen, traitorous. They all hear the tiny, broken sound you make.

Sunghoon groans. "Fuck. That's the sound I wanna hear when she's choking on my dick later."

Dinner ends like that, messy, humiliating, electric.

When the last container is shoved aside, you mumble something about needing to unpack. Your voice is wrecked. Legs unsteady as you slide off the stool.

Heeseung's hand finally leaves your body, but not before he gives your ass a firm, possessive squeeze. "Go on, sweetheart. Get settled."

Their laughter follows you down the hallway, low, overlapping, knowing. "She's dripping down her thighs, I can smell it from here."

"Bet she locks the door and fingers herself thinking about us."

"Door stays unlocked from now on. House rule."

You shut yourself in the bedroom anyway. Heart hammering. Cheeks burning. Cunt throbbing so hard it hurts. You tell yourself you're just going to unpack. You don't.

The apartment feels smaller now, the air thicker, like the walls themselves are breathing. You’re still sprawled on the edge of the mattress, knees wide, thin cotton shorts shoved down just far enough that the waistband bites into the tops of your thighs. Your tank top has ridden up under your breasts, nipples stiff and visible through the damp fabric. Two fingers are buried inside you, knuckle-deep, curling, pumping, while your thumb mashes frantic, messy circles over your swollen clit. Every stroke pulls a slick, obscene sound from between your legs. You can’t stop. You don’t want to stop.

The apartment is quiet for maybe ten minutes. Then you hear it. From the living room, muffled at first, then unmistakable. Low grunts. Wet, rhythmic sounds. Skin on skin. "New roommate's pussy looked so fucking tight," Jake's voice, breathy. "Bet she'd cry if I went in raw."

Jay, rougher: "I'd make her ride me reverse so I could watch that ass bounce while Heeseung fucks her throat."

Sunghoon, colder, meaner: "I'm breaking that little cunt open first. Gonna make her squirt all over the couch before the night's over."

Heeseung's voice cuts through, low, controlled, dangerous. "We're breaking her in slow. Let her think she has control for a day or two. Then we take turns stretching her till she forgets her own name."

More groans. Faster strokes. Someone swears. Someone moans your name, your actual fucking name, like it's already theirs. Your cunt clenches hard around your fingers at the memory. A fresh gush of wetness coats your palm. You’re dripping onto the sheet now, dark spot spreading beneath your ass. You try to muffle the next whimper by biting the inside of your cheek, but it still leaks out, high and broken.

You come hard. Silent at first, then a choked whimper slips out when your fingers push inside, chasing the aftershocks. Your thighs shake. The bed creaks. The apartment has been dead silent for thirty seconds.

Then, floorboards creak. Not fast. Not rushed. Slow. Measured. One deliberate step after another. Your heart slams against your ribs so violently you’re sure they can hear it through the thin walls. You freeze, fingers still stuffed inside you, walls fluttering helplessly around them. You don’t dare pull them out. Don’t dare move. Every nerve feels peeled open, raw, screaming.

The footsteps stop right outside your door. You hold your breath. The knob turns. No knock. No warning. The door swings inward on silent hinges. Heeseung fills the frame.

No shirt. Sweatpants slung obscenely low, the thick ridge of his cock still half-hard and outlined against the gray cotton like it’s trying to tear through. A faint sheen of sweat glistens along his collarbones, down the cut of his abs. His hair is wrecked, fingers-raked, damp at the temples. His eyes are black, pupils blown, and the corner of his mouth curls in something that isn’t quite a smile. It’s possession wearing amusement like a mask.

He doesn’t step inside. Not yet. He just leans one bare shoulder against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, and lets his gaze drag over you, slow, deliberate, filthy. From the way your thighs tremble, to the hand still buried in your shorts, to the wet spot darkening the sheet, to your bitten-raw lip and glassy eyes.

“Caught you,” he murmurs. Voice so low it vibrates in your chest. Your fingers twitch involuntarily inside yourself. A tiny, helpless pump. You can’t help it. His voice alone is enough to make your cunt spasm. He notices. Of course he notices. His head tilts. “You didn’t even lock the door, baby.”

The endearment lands like a slap and a caress at once. Your mouth opens, maybe to deny, maybe to beg, maybe just to breathe, but nothing comes out except a shaky exhale.

He takes one step forward. The floor creaks under his weight. Another step. Your pulse is in your throat, your clit, your fingertips. You’re so wet it’s obscene, every tiny shift of your hips makes a slick sound you’re sure he can hear.

He stops at the foot of the bed. Close enough that you can smell him, clean sweat, faint cologne, the dark musk of arousal still clinging to his skin from whatever they were doing out there.

“Look at you,” he says softly. Almost tender. “Legs spread like you were waiting for an audience. Fingers stuffed in that greedy little hole while you listened to us talk about ruining you.” His eyes flick to where your hand disappears into your shorts. “Did you come thinking about Sunghoon splitting you open? Or Jay making you bounce on his cock while I fucked your throat raw?”

You make a sound, half sob, half moan. Your hips jerk up without permission, chasing your own fingers. Heeseung’s gaze darkens. “Don’t stop.”

Your breath hitches. “Keep fucking yourself,” he orders, voice dropping into something darker, quieter, more dangerous. “Let me watch how desperate you got listening to us plan all the ways we’re gonna break you.”

Your fingers move before your brain catches up, slow at first, then faster, wetter, louder. The heel of your palm grinds against your clit with every thrust. Your other hand claws at the sheet. Your thighs shake so hard the bed frame rattles. Heeseung doesn’t touch you. He just watches.

Eyes heavy-lidded. Breathing slow and controlled while yours comes in ragged little pants. The outline of his cock has thickened again, straining harder against the sweats. A dark spot blooms at the tip. "You were moaning our names," he says, tilting his head. "Heard you clear as day."

You open your mouth. Nothing comes out. He walks closer. Stops at the edge of the bed. Looks down at you, spread, flushed, fingers still glistening.

"First rule of the house," he says, voice velvet and final. He reaches down, grips your chin, tilts your face up so you have to meet his eyes. "If we hear you moaning our names, if you touch that pretty pussy thinking about us, you don't get to come alone anymore."

His thumb drags across your bottom lip, collecting the spit and gloss there. "You finish with one of us inside you. Or on you. Or watching. Your choice."

He leans in until his mouth is a breath from yours. "But tonight?" He smirks, slow, filthy, victorious. "Tonight you go to sleep wet and aching. No more touching. That's rule two."

He straightens. Steps back. "Get some rest, sweetheart."

He turns for the door. Pauses. Looks over his shoulder. "And tomorrow?" His smile is all teeth. "Rent's due."

The door clicks shut behind him. You lie back on the bed, heart slamming, thighs slick, body screaming. You don't touch yourself again. Not because you don't want to. But because you know, he's right outside. And they're all waiting for the next time you break.

Your gasp rips through the dim bedroom like a blade, but it’s not fear that claws up your throat, it’s the raw, electric shock of Jake’s iron grip clamping around your upper arm, yanking you upright so violently the mattress squeaks in protest. Your eyes fly open to the sight of his wicked grin, teeth flashing white in the pale morning light filtering through half-drawn blinds. The sheets are torn away in one savage sweep, cool air slamming against your overheated skin like a slap. Your thin tank top is already bunched uselessly under your tits, the fabric twisted tight around your ribs, while your tiny sleep shorts have ridden so high they barely cover the swell of your ass cheeks, the crotch seam digging intently into your folds.

“Morning, roomie,” Jake purrs, voice dripping with mock sweetness and pure venom. He drags you out of bed like a ragdoll, your bare feet scrambling for purchase on the icy concrete floor, toes curling against the chill. His free hand instantly mauls your left tit, thick fingers sinking deep into the soft, heavy flesh, squeezing so hard your nipple hardens between his knuckles like a ripe berry. His thumb flicks it once, twice, three times, fast and brutal, like he’s punishing a disobedient little button. Pain blooms hot and sharp, shooting straight to your clit, and you hiss through clenched teeth, back arching involuntarily, pushing your chest further into his greedy palm.

He laughs, low, filthy, delighted, and crashes his mouth against your cheek in a wet, sloppy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. The flat of his tongue drags slow and deliberate across your flushed skin, leaving a thick trail of spit that cools instantly. He pulls back with a loud smack, lips shiny, eyes glittering with mischief.

“Breakfast’s waiting, princess. And you’re the main fucking course.”

He hauls you down the hallway, your legs stumbling, tits bouncing freely under the ruined tank, shorts still tangled around one thigh. The living room hits you like a fever dream: thick with the scent of fresh-brewed coffee, printer ink, and the unmistakable musk of four horny men who’ve already been stroking themselves thinking about this exact moment. Jay’s lounging like a king on the massive sectional sofa, legs spread wide in nothing but gray sweats that do nothing to hide the monstrous bulge tenting the fabric, one arm slung lazily over the backrest, the other lazily palming his cock through the material. He doesn’t even stand. Just crooks two fingers at you, slow and commanding, a lazy smirk playing on his full lips.

Jake shoves you forward hard. You stumble straight into Jay’s waiting hands, rough, calloused palms gripping your hips like vices, and he yanks you down onto his lap in one fluid, possessive motion. Your bare ass cheeks land flush against the scorching heat of his massive morning wood, the thick ridge of it nestling perfectly between your cheeks through the thin sweats. He groans deep in his chest and rocks up once, grinding his fat cock against you so you feel every throbbing inch, every vein, the blunt head nudging right against your folds like a promise.

“Sit pretty for me, slut,” Jay growls hot against the shell of your ear, breath smelling like mint and sin. One thick arm snakes around your waist, locking you down like a seatbelt made of steel. His other hand shoves up under your tank top, claiming your right tit fully, squeezing, kneading, rolling the nipple between rough fingers until it’s swollen and aching. You squirm helplessly, already leaking slick down your thighs, but he just chuckles darkly and pinches harder. “That’s it. Feel how hard you make me first thing in the goddamn morning?”

Heeseung leans against the kitchen island like a statue carved from ice and hunger, arms crossed over his broad chest, black tank stretched tight across his muscles, sweatpants slung low enough to show the deep V of his hips. His dark eyes drink you in with that calm, terrifying amusement, lips curled in the barest smirk. Sunghoon’s perched on the arm of the couch like a predator in repose, long legs dangling, one hand already shoved inside his boxers, slowly fisting his long, pretty cock, tip flushed angry red, leaking precum in shiny beads that he smears down the shaft with lazy twists.

A single crisp sheet of paper is taped to the stainless-steel fridge, bold black Arial bullet points screaming authority.

Roommate Rules.

Jake claps once, sharp and theatrical, the sound cracking through the room like a whip. “New roommate orientation, baby! Time to learn the house rules. Stand up, oh wait.” He grins viciously as Jay’s arm tightens, keeping you impaled on his lap, grinding slow circles so the ridge of his cock drags deliciously against your dripping cunt. “Never mind. Stay right there.”

Jay doesn’t let you move an inch. Jake rips the paper free and slaps it into your trembling hands. “Read it. Out. Loud. Every word.”

Heeseung’s voice cuts through like velvet over steel. “And don’t you dare stop.”

Your fingers shake so badly the paper rattles. Jay’s free hand dives straight down, past the waistband of your shorts, two thick fingers spearing into your soaked cunt without mercy, no teasing, no warmup. They curl viciously against your G-spot instantly, pumping in and out with wet, filthy squelching sounds that echo obscenely. Your walls clamp down greedily, sucking him deeper, and you choke on the first syllable.

“R-Rule… one…” Your voice cracks into a broken moan as Jay adds a third finger on the next thrust, stretching you wide, scissoring brutally. “N-No panties… in the apartment… after 8 p.m. Fuck—ahh!”

Sunghoon hums low, shoving his boxers down to his thighs, his long cock springing free, veiny, curved slightly, glistening as he strokes faster, thumb swiping over the leaking slit. “Louder, whore. Let us hear how wet that rule makes you.”

Jake drops to his knees between your spread thighs like he’s worshipping at an altar. He rips your shorts down your legs in one violent yank, tossing them across the room, leaving you completely bare from the waist down on Jay’s lap, pussy lips puffy and shining, clit throbbing visibly. He spreads your thighs wider with both hands, thumbs digging into soft flesh, and leans in. His tongue, hot, flat, and obscene, drags from your dripping hole all the way up to your swollen clit in one long, sloppy stripe. He sucks your clit into his mouth like it’s candy, tongue flicking rapid-fire while Jay’s fingers keep moving.

“Rule two,” you sob, hips jerking wildly, trying to ride both sensations at once. “You… sit on someone’s lap… during movie nights, oh god, Jake, please—ahh!”

Jake pulls back just enough to spit a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit, watching it drip down to mix with your juices coating Jay’s knuckles. “Good fucking girl. Keep reading while I eat this sloppy cunt like breakfast.”

Your voice is pure wreckage now, high, breathy, broken. “Rule three… Whoever cooks… the others get to fuck you… on the counter… while dinner’s in the oven, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Jay slams his fingers deeper, adding a fourth, stretching you to the burning limit. Your pussy gushes around him, slick squirting out in messy pulses that soak his sweats and the couch beneath you. The wet sounds are pornographic, schlick-schlick-schlick, loud enough to drown out your whimpers.

Heeseung is stroking himself now, thick, heavy, perfectly shaped, veins pulsing as he strokes slow and controlled, eyes locked on your face like he’s memorizing every twitch of humiliation and pleasure. “Almost there, sweetheart. Finish it. Then we give you the welcome gift you’ve been dripping for since you moved in.”

Jake stands, shoving his shorts down. His cock slaps heavy against his abs, thick, girthy, the head red and angry, already drooling precum in long strings. He strokes himself right in front of your face, the wet sound of his fist mixing with Jay’s fingers destroying your cunt. The tip keeps brushing your cheek, smearing precum across your skin like war paint.

You force the last words out between guttural moans, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaking your face. “First… official use… read the rules out loud… while being used—nnngh! And… and it ends with all four… cumming on your face… and tits… as welcome gift, please, I can’t—!”

Silence crashes down for half a second, only the obscene sounds of fingers plunging into soaked pussy and four men stroking their cocks. Then Jay rips his fingers out with a wet pop. You whine pathetically at the sudden emptiness, pussy clenching around nothing, a gush of your own slick dripping down your thighs onto the carpet.

Heeseung steps forward first, voice calm as death. “On your knees, cumdump.” Jay lifts you like you weigh nothing, strong arms tossing you onto the floor between them. The rough carpet bites into your knees as you kneel, back straight, tits heaving, cunt visibly throbbing and empty. They circle you like wolves, four towering, muscular bodies, cocks hard and leaking, surrounding you in a filthy halo of dominance.

Heeseung speaks, low and final. “Welcome to the house, sweetheart. Open that pretty mouth and take what you earned.” They don’t ask permission. They just ruin you.

Jake goes first, groaning loud and theatrical, fist flying as thick, ropey jets of cum erupt across your face. One stripe lands right across your open mouth, coating your tongue in salty heat. Another paints your left cheek, dripping down to your jaw. A third splatters across your forehead, sliding into your hair. He milks every drop, slapping his spent cock against your lips. “Swallow what you can, baby. The rest stays.”

Sunghoon’s next, quiet, intense, eyes dark as midnight. He aims low, long powerful spurts painting your tits in pearly white. Thick globs land on your left nipple, sliding down the curve of your breast like icing. Another heavy rope coats the valley between them, dripping down your stomach. He keeps stroking through it, smearing the head of his cock through the mess on your skin, marking you deeper.

Jay growls your name like a curse, “Fuck, look at you”—and unloads across the right side of your face. Hot cum hits your cheekbone, your eyelid, your lips, mixing with Jake’s in sticky rivers that drip off your chin onto your cum-glazed tits. One stray shot lands directly on your tongue and you moan, swallowing reflexively.

Heeseung saves the best for last. He steps closest, tipping your chin up with two fingers so your teary eyes lock onto his. “Eyes on me while I paint my new toy.” His strokes stay slow, deliberate, until the first powerful pulse shoots straight across your lips, forcing you to taste him, thick, bitter-sweet, coating your tongue. The next stripes your chest, adding fresh layers over Sunghoon’s mess, dripping off your nipples in heavy rivulets. He keeps coming, pulse after pulse, until your entire face and tits are a glistening, ruined masterpiece of four loads, cum sliding down your body in obscene trails, pooling in the hollow of your throat and between your thighs.

When they finally step back, you’re a trembling, kneeling wreck, face and chest absolutely drenched, lips parted, tongue still out like a good little cumslut, thighs shaking, pussy clenching and dripping onto the carpet in desperate need.

Heeseung crouches, thumb scooping a thick glob of mixed cum from your bottom lip. He pushes it deep into your mouth. “Suck. Clean every drop like the rules say.” You do, hollowing your cheeks, sucking his thumb clean with a wet pop, eyes fluttering as the salty, musky taste of all four of them floods your senses. He smiles, slow, dark, satisfied. “Rules are rules, baby.”

Jake laughs, tucking his cock away with a satisfied sigh. “Shower’s down the hall, princess. But we won’t mind if you don’t shower today. Or ever again.”

Jay leans down, pressing an almost tender kiss to the top of your cum-matted hair. “Welcome home, roomie.”

Sunghoon just stares, licking his lips as you instinctively drag your tongue across them, chasing every stray drop. “Rent’s cheap as fuck now, huh? But you are gonna pay every single day.”

You can’t speak, voice wrecked, body owned. But your cunt is already fluttering, aching, dripping for the next rule they’ll break you with. And they know it. They always will.

The rest of the day unravels like a slow, deliberate fever dream, every ordinary second laced with the kind of casual, relentless violation that makes your pulse thunder and your cunt throb like a second heartbeat. You try so fucking hard to pretend it’s just another lazy Saturday. That the thick, salty ghosts of their cum aren’t still drying in flaky trails across your tits and cheeks no matter how hard you scrubbed in the shower. That the taste of all four of them, bitter, musky, addictively filthy, doesn’t coat the back of your throat every single time you swallow.  

The shower is a war zone. Scalding water pounds against skin still blooming with faint red handprints and fingertip bruises, steam thick enough to choke on. You soap yourself raw, trying to erase the evidence, but every glide of your own hands over your sore nipples, your swollen clit, your tender skin just reminds you how easily they marked you. When you finally step out, the oversized black tee you pull on clings to your still-damp skin like a surrender flag, hem barely skimming the bottom curve of your ass, nipples already stiff and obvious against the thin cotton, pussy lips puffy and exposed every time you move. No bra. No panties. It’s not even close to 8 p.m., but the rule is already branded into your brain like a collar. You tell yourself it’s just comfort. Practicality. Not the first step in learning to live with your holes on permanent display.

They let you cling to that lie for exactly twenty-three minutes.

You’re in the kitchen, stretching up on tiptoes to grab a glass from the top shelf, the tee riding all the way up to expose the full, bare globes of your ass and the slick shine already coating your inner thighs, when the first crack lands.

Jake’s palm connects with your right cheek like a gunshot, sharp, loud, viciously playful. The sound ricochets off the marble counters. Your whole body jolts forward, glass clattering against the shelf, and a hot bloom of pain explodes across your skin. Before you can even gasp, he’s right there, chest pressed to your back, hips grinding his half-hard cock against the cleft of your ass through his sweats.

“Careful, princess,” he drawls, voice syrupy and mean. Both hands shove up under the tee from behind, claiming your tits like they were built for his palms, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh until it bulges between his fingers, thumbs and forefingers rolling your nipples in tight, cruel pinches that send lightning straight to your clit. “Wouldn’t want you breaking shit on your first full day. Or maybe we should make you clean it up on your knees.”

You white-knuckle the counter, breath sawing out of you, thighs pressing together uselessly as fresh slick drips down your legs.

Heeseung strolls past like he’s fetching orange juice, not even sparing you a glance, until his arm snaps out mid-stride and his open palm cracks across your left cheek so hard the sting blooms white-hot and immediate. Your knees buckle. He keeps walking, cool as ever, but you catch the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jay’s waiting when you bend over to grab a yogurt from the bottom drawer of the fridge. The oversized tee flips up completely, baring your dripping cunt and the pink handprints already decorating your ass. His bare foot hooks your ankle, yanking your legs apart with zero warning. Then his hand comes down, once, twice, three brutal, stinging slaps in rapid succession, each one harder than the last, the wet smack of skin on wet skin echoing obscenely. Your pussy clenches visibly with every impact, a humiliating string of slick stretching from your hole to the floor.

“Good reach, roomie,” he mutters, already back to scrolling his phone like he didn’t just turn your ass into a throbbing, cherry-red masterpiece. “Keep bending over like that and I might have to test how deep that pretty throat is before dinner.”

Sunghoon doesn’t bother with words. He simply appears behind you while you’re loading the dishwasher, hips slamming forward to pin you bent over the open rack, his massive erection grinding slow and filthy between your spread cheeks. One arm bands around your waist, the other shoves under the tee to grope your tits with lazy, proprietary thoroughness, palms rolling the soft mounds like ripe fruit, fingers tugging and twisting your nipples until they’re swollen, aching peaks. He pinches so hard you cry out, then releases you with a low whistle, walking away like he just checked the mail.

It never stops.

Every single movement is an invitation they cash immediately. Reaching for the remote? Jake’s fingers plunge between your thighs from behind, two thick digits sliding through your soaked folds just long enough to coat themselves before he pulls away, sucking them clean with a wink. Bending to pick up a dropped spoon? Jay’s palm cracks down again, then stays, middle finger dipping into your cunt, pumping once, twice, curling against your G-spot until your knees shake, then withdrawing with a wet pop and a casual “oops.” Stretching up to dust the top shelf? Heeseung’s mouth finds the back of your neck, teeth grazing, one hand sliding between your legs to flick your clit in rapid, teasing circles until you’re whimpering, then he’s gone, leaving you edged and gasping.

By late afternoon you’re a walking wreck, skin flushed scarlet, ass a lattice of overlapping handprints burning with every step, nipples raw and hypersensitive against the cotton, cunt so swollen and empty it aches like a bruise. Your thighs are shiny with constant slick. Your brain is fogged with need. You’re trying, failing, to fold laundry on the living room couch when Jake decides he’s done playing.

He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t warn. He simply drops to his knees in front of you like a man starved for weeks, hooks your trembling legs over his broad shoulders, and buries his face in your dripping pussy with a guttural groan that vibrates straight through your clit.

No warmup. No mercy.

His tongue is everywhere at once, broad, flat, filthy laps from your clenching hole all the way up to your throbbing clit, then sucking the swollen bud between his lips like he’s trying to pull your soul out through it. He alternates, hard, punishing suction that makes your back bow off the cushions, then soft, fluttering licks that leave you sobbing. Two thick fingers spear into you without resistance, curling viciously against that spongy spot inside while his tongue flicks your clit in rapid, relentless strokes. The wet sounds are deafening, your slick gushing around his knuckles, dripping down his chin, soaking the couch beneath you.

You grab fistfuls of his hair, half trying to rip him off, half grinding your cunt against his face desperate for release. “J-Jake, fuck—too much—ahh!”

He growls into your pussy, the vibration making your vision spark white. Three fingers now, stretching you wide, pumping brutally, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit while his tongue spears inside you, fucking you in shallow, messy thrusts. Your thighs clamp around his head like a vice. Your back arches so hard you nearly levitate. The orgasm rips through you like lightning, violent, shattering, squirting messily all over his face as you scream, walls convulsing, vision whiting out completely.

He doesn’t stop. He rides you through it, through the aftershocks, through the oversensitive whimpers and the frantic pushing at his head, tongue and fingers relentless until you’re a sobbing, twitching wreck, another smaller orgasm crashing over you before the first even fades.

Only then does he pull back, face glistening, lips swollen, chin dripping with your cum like he just won a war. He climbs up your body slow, caging you against the cushions with his powerful frame, cock heavy and leaking against your thigh through his sweats. Then he kisses you. Not the brutal, claiming way you expect after he just devoured your cunt like a starving animal.

Sweet. Devastatingly soft. His mouth moves against yours like a promise, gentle, coaxing, tongue sliding in lazy, velvet strokes that taste like your own slick and his spit. One hand cups your cheek with shocking tenderness, thumb stroking your jawbone like you’re fragile, precious. The other rests low on your belly, warm, possessive, fingers splayed like he’s claiming the space where his cock will eventually live.

It breaks something in you. Filthy-sweet. Disorienting. Dangerous. When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, breath mingling, eyes half-lidded and shining. “Good girl,” he whispers, so soft it feels like a secret. “Tasted so fucking sweet. Could eat this pussy for every meal.”

Then he’s gone, standing, wiping his shiny face with the back of his hand, flashing that boyish, wicked grin like he didn’t just ruin you twice in five minutes. You lie there panting, legs still hooked open and shaking, lips tingling, cunt still fluttering and leaking onto the ruined couch. The others don’t even pretend to look away anymore.

Heeseung glances over from the armchair, dark eyes gleaming, one brow raised in quiet approval. Jay keeps scrolling, but his free hand is palming the massive bulge in his sweats. Sunghoon licks his lips slowly, deliberately, like he’s already tasting his turn. You yank the tee down over your trembling thighs with shaking hands, trying to catch your breath, trying to remember how to be a person.

The clock on the wall glows 7:42 p.m. Eighteen minutes until the first rule locks in for the night. And every single one of them is watching the seconds tick down with hungry, patient eyes.

The day was “normal.”

But normal in this house means your body is their favorite toy, teased, slapped, groped, eaten, and edged until you’re dripping and desperate. The night hasn’t even started.

The apartment is shrouded in that heavy, post-midnight hush, only the low, constant hum of the AC and the faint, faraway pulse of city traffic bleeding through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The clock on the wall glows 12:34 a.m. Your panties have been gone for hours, the rule now a permanent, throbbing law between your legs. Every step you take reminds you: bare, slick, exposed, owned.

You’re trying to ghost down the hallway like a shadow, bare feet silent on the cool hardwood, oversized tee clutched in one fist to keep the hem from riding up, when Heeseung materializes out of nowhere. His long fingers wrap around your wrist like a steel cuff, firm but not cruel, and he yanks you sideways without a single word. The door to his room swings open, swallows you both, and clicks shut with the finality of a prison gate. The lock engages with a soft, damning thunk.

The second the bolt slides home, the mask drops. Heeseung spins you around and slams you back against the door so hard the wood rattles in its frame. His mouth crashes into yours, teeth clashing, tongues battling, no sweetness, just raw, starving hunger. One big hand fists your hair, yanking your head back so he can devour your throat, sucking bruises into the skin while the other shoves up under your tee and finds your already dripping cunt.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growls against your pulse point, two thick fingers spearing straight into you without warning. “Been walking around all night with this greedy little hole empty? Bad girl.”

You moan brokenly, hips jerking into his hand. He adds a third finger instantly, stretching you wide, scissoring brutally while his thumb grinds hard circles on your swollen clit. Your knees buckle; he doesn’t let you fall. Just pins you to the door with his body and finger-fucks you so viciously the sound echoes louder than your gasps.

He rips the tee over your head in one motion, leaving you completely naked. Then he’s spinning you again, bending you over the edge of his massive bed, face pressed into the black silk sheets that smell like him, dark, expensive, masculine. He kicks your legs wider, slaps your ass once, twice, hard enough to make the flesh jiggle and bloom pink.

“Look at this pretty cunt clenching for me,” he snarls, lining up the fat, leaking head of his cock and slamming in to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The stretch burns so good you scream into the mattress. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, just grips your hips hard enough to bruise and starts pounding.

Skin slaps skin like thunder. His heavy balls smack your clit with every savage thrust. The bed creaks violently under the assault. He fucks you like he’s trying to split you in half—deep, punishing strokes that drag against every sensitive ridge inside you, the thick head battering your cervix on every inward slam.

“Take it,” he grunts, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back, the other reaching around to slap your clit in time with his thrusts. “This is what you signed up for, roomie. This cunt belongs to the house now, belongs to me tonight.”

You’re sobbing, drooling onto the sheets, pussy gushing around his cock so loudly it’s embarrassing. He reaches down and spreads your ass cheeks wider, watching his thick shaft disappear into your stretched hole, the creamy ring of your arousal coating every inch.

“Fuck, look at that. Greedy little slut sucking me in.”

He pulls out suddenly, flips you onto your back, and hooks your legs over his shoulders. The new angle lets him drive even deeper. His hips snap forward like a machine, relentless, punishing, perfect. Your tits bounce wildly with every thrust. He leans down and sucks one swollen nipple into his mouth, biting hard enough to make you wail, then soothes it with his tongue before moving to the other.

You come first, hard, screaming, walls clamping down on him like a vice, squirting messily around his cock as your whole body seizes. He doesn’t slow. Just fucks you straight through it, growling praises and filth into your ear.

“That’s it, milk my cock, baby. Give me another. Come on this dick again like the house whore you are.”

You do, second orgasm ripping through you even harder, vision whiting out, nails raking bloody lines down his back. Heeseung follows with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and flooding you with thick, hot ropes of cum, pulse after pulse until it’s leaking out around his cock, dripping down your ass and soaking the sheets.

He stays buried inside you for a long moment, both of you heaving, sweat-slick bodies glued together. Then he pulls out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum pours from your ruined hole in a creamy waterfall.

But the brutality ends there.

Heeseung rolls off you with surprising grace, chest still rising and falling hard. He sits up, runs a hand through his wrecked hair, then stands, completely naked, still half-hard and shining with your combined mess. You lie there boneless, thighs trembling, cum leaking steadily onto the bed, mind completely blank.

He disappears into the attached bathroom. You hear the faucet run, the soft clink of glass. When he returns, he’s carrying a warm, damp cloth and a small bottle of something. You flinch when he kneels between your spread thighs again, instinct, not fear, but he just shushes you softly.

“Easy, baby.”

The cloth is blissfully warm. He starts at your inner thighs, wiping away the sticky trails of cum with slow, careful strokes. Then higher, between your folds, dabbing gently at your swollen, puffy entrance. You hiss when the fabric brushes your oversensitive clit; he pauses instantly, waiting until you relax before continuing. He cleans every inch of you with the patience of a man who’s done this before, thorough, reverent, almost worshipful. When he’s satisfied, he sets the cloth aside and pours a small amount of cool, soothing lotion onto his fingers, massaging it gently into the red handprints on your hips, your ass, the bite marks on your breasts.

You can only stare at him, wide-eyed, lips parted, heart hammering in a way that has nothing to do with the orgasms.

Heeseung meets your gaze, those dark eyes steady, unreadable for a heartbeat, then the corner of his mouth lifts in something softer than a smirk. “I may be an asshole, baby,” he says, voice low and gravel-rough from how loud he’d moaned your name, “but I know how to treat what’s mine right after I break it.”

He finishes with the lotion, then grabs a clean, fluffy towel from the dresser and drapes it gently over your hips like a blanket. Pulls the black silk sheet up to your waist, tucking it around you with careful hands. Finally, he leans down, brushes sweat-damp strands of hair off your forehead with his knuckles, light, almost sweet, and presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “You’re gonna need every ounce of strength for what the rest of them have planned tomorrow.”

He doesn’t stay. Just stands, flicks off the bedside lamp with a soft click, and pads out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough that a thin, golden line of hallway light spills across the floor like an invitation… or a warning.

You lie there in the dark, body aching in the most delicious, ruined way, pussy still fluttering with aftershocks, skin tingling from his gentle hands, mind spinning in dizzy circles.

Because he is an asshole. A cruel, rule-making, cum-painting, pussy-destroying asshole. But tonight, for the first time since you moved in, you’re terrifyingly certain that’s not all he is. And that single, dangerous crack in the armor?

It scares you more than every filthy rule they’ve written on that fridge. Because if Heeseung can fuck you like a toy and then care for you like something precious…

What the hell are the other three capable of? You get your answer somewhere around an hour after Heeseung leaves.

The apartment has gone quiet, city lights bleeding through the blinds in faint orange stripes, the distant hum of traffic like white noise. You’re half-asleep in your own bed again, body still humming from earlier, skin too sensitive, mind too full of everything that’s happened since you walked through the front door. The sheets feel cool against the faint bruises blooming on your hips.

You don’t hear the door open. Just feel the mattress dip behind you, slow, careful, like whoever it is doesn’t want to startle you awake. Then warmth. Jay’s chest presses to your back, not crowding, not possessive in the usual way. Just… there. Solid. His arm slides around your waist from behind, palm flattening low on your stomach. Fingers splay wide, covering as much skin as they can without gripping.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just breathes, slow, even, against the nape of your neck. His nose brushes the baby hairs there once, twice. Then his thumb starts moving.

Slow circles. Lazy, deliberate swirls over the soft skin just below your navel. The kind of touch that feels like he’s tracing something fragile. Like you’re made of blown glass, or spun sugar, or something that might crack if he presses too hard.

It’s nothing like the way they’ve touched you all day. No slaps. No gropes. No mocking whispers or filthy promises. Just this. Quiet. Steady. Almost reverent. You tense for half a second, waiting for the punchline, the shift into something meaner.

It doesn’t come. Instead, his lips find the curve where your shoulder meets your neck. Not a kiss. Just a resting place. Warm breath fanning over your skin in time with the slow rub of his thumb. “You okay?” he murmurs eventually. Voice low, rough from sleep and whatever else he’s been doing in the dark. Not demanding an answer. Just… checking.

You don’t know what to say. Your throat feels tight. You nod once, small, barely there. His hand keeps moving. Same rhythm. Same gentleness. Circles widening a little, then tightening again, like he’s memorizing the shape of you under his palm.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says against your skin. “Any of it. Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever.”

The words hang there, simple, quiet, sincere in a way that doesn’t match the asshole roommates who printed rules on the fridge and came on your face like it was a housewarming tradition. You swallow. “I’m… okay,” you whisper. It’s the truth, mostly. The rest is too tangled to name.

He hums once, soft, approving. His arm tightens just enough to pull you closer, back flush to his chest. No grind. No wandering hands. Just holding. The circles don’t stop. Slow. Soothing. Like he’s trying to rub the tension out of you molecule by molecule. You feel your breathing start to match his, deeper, slower. The ache between your legs dulls to a low throb instead of a sharp pulse. Your eyelids grow heavy again. Jay doesn’t move to leave.

Doesn’t push for more. Just stays. Palm warm on your waist. Thumb still drawing those endless, careful circles. Like you’re something worth being gentle with. Even here. Even now. You fall asleep to the rhythm of it, his heartbeat steady against your spine, his breath even against your neck, the soft scrape of calluses on your skin.

And for the first time since you moved in, the apartment doesn’t feel quite so dangerous.

Sunlight slices through the half-open blinds in thin, golden bars across your bare back. You wake slowly, first to the sensation of heat, then weight, then the unmistakable press of something thick and heavy sliding past your lips before your eyes are even open.

Heeseung. He’s already there, kneeling at the edge of the mattress, one hand braced on the headboard, the other cradling the back of your skull with surprising care. His cock is hard, morning wood, thick and flushed, veins prominent under the skin, and he’s feeding it to you slowly, not thrusting, just… settling. Like he’s been waiting for you to wake up around him.

Your lashes flutter. A soft, sleepy sound escapes your throat, half protest, half surrender, as your mouth stretches to accommodate him. He doesn’t push deeper than you can take. Just holds still once the head bumps the back of your tongue, letting you adjust.

“Shh,” he murmurs above you, thumb stroking the hinge of your jaw. “Morning, baby.”

His voice is gravel-rough from sleep, softer than it has any right to be. You blink up at him through damp lashes. He’s shirtless, hair a wreck, eyes dark but not cruel. There’s something almost apologetic in the way he looks down at you, like he knows exactly how many times he’s already used this mouth, this body, in the last forty-eight hours and still can’t stop.

You don’t pull away. Instead, you flatten your tongue along the underside, hollow your cheeks just enough to make him hiss quietly. His hips twitch once, small, involuntary, then still again.

“Good girl,” he breathes. Not mocking. Quiet. Almost reverent.

That’s when you feel the mattress dip on either side. Jake slides in behind you first, warm chest pressing to your back, knees nudging yours apart. His cock, already leaking, slides between your thighs, not inside yet, just rocking slow and lazy along your folds. He kisses the nape of your neck, open-mouthed and gentle, like he’s tasting sleep-warmed skin instead of claiming territory.

“Morning, princess,” he whispers against your ear. One hand slips under you, cupping your breast, not squeezing, just holding. Palm warm. Fingers splayed. Thumb brushing the nipple in slow, soothing circles.

Sunghoon appears on your other side, long limbs unfolding gracefully. He doesn’t speak at first. Just watches your face while Heeseung rocks shallowly into your mouth. Then he leans in, presses a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. The gesture is so unexpectedly tender your breath hitches around Heeseung’s length.

Sunghoon’s hand finds your hip. Strokes down the curve of your waist, then back up. Like he’s memorizing every dip and swell. Like he’s sorry for every bruise he’s left there. Jay’s the last to join.

He’s fully dressed, gray sweats, black tee, hair still damp from a shower, sitting in the armchair across from the bed with a steaming mug of black coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. Vertical hold. Red recording dot blinking steadily.

He doesn’t say anything filthy. Doesn’t bark orders. Just watches. Sips. The corner of his mouth lifts when your eyes meet his over Heeseung’s shoulder. Not a smirk. Something quieter. Almost fond. “Pretty,” he mouths. No sound. Just the shape of the word.

Heeseung starts moving then, slow, shallow rolls of his hips. Never deep enough to choke you. Just enough to fill your mouth, to let you taste the salt and musk of him. Your hands come up instinctively, fingers curling around the base he can’t fit, stroking what your lips can’t reach.

Jake shifts behind you. Lines himself up. Presses in, slow. So slow. The stretch is lazy, unhurried, like he has all morning to sink into you. When he bottoms out, he stays there. Doesn’t thrust. Just grinds in tiny, rolling circles, letting you feel every inch pressed against that spot inside that makes your toes curl.

Sunghoon’s hand slides between you and the mattress. Finds your clit. Circles it with the same gentle pressure Jake’s using on your nipple. No frantic rubbing. No pinching. Just soft, steady friction that builds slow and syrupy.

You moan around Heeseung, muffled, needy. The vibration makes him groan low in his throat.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “That’s it.”

They move like they’ve rehearsed it. Like they’ve agreed, silently, somewhere in the dark hours after Jay held you last night, that today they won’t break you. Not more than they already have.

Jake rocks into you in time with Heeseung’s shallow thrusts. Sunghoon’s fingers never falter, patient, coaxing. Your body starts to tremble, not from overstimulation, but from the slow, relentless climb they’re building together.

Jay’s phone stays steady. He tilts it slightly, capturing the way your back arches, the way Jake’s hand splays protectively over your stomach, the way Sunghoon’s lips brush your shoulder every few seconds like he can’t help himself.

Heeseung’s breathing grows ragged first. “Gonna come,” he warns, voice strained, almost pleading. “Where do you want it, baby?” You can’t answer with words. Just tighten your lips around him, suck harder, look up at him with wide, glassy eyes.

He swears under his breath. Pulls out at the last second, strokes himself twice, and spills across your tongue in thick, warm pulses. You swallow what you can; the rest drips from the corner of your mouth. Heeseung catches it with his thumb, pushes it back between your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispers again. This time his voice cracks. Jake’s rhythm falters behind you. His forehead drops to your shoulder. “Fuck—can I—inside?”

You nod frantically, around Heeseung’s softening cock still resting on your tongue.

He groans, long, low, broken, and buries himself deep. Comes with a shudder that rocks through both of you. Hot. Thick. Filling you until it leaks out around him, down your thighs. He doesn’t pull out right away. Just stays seated, grinding lazily through the aftershocks, letting you clench around him like he’s trying to keep every drop where it belongs.

Sunghoon’s fingers speed up just enough, still gentle, still careful, and you come like a wave breaking slow. No scream. No violent shaking. Just a long, trembling release that leaves you boneless, whimpering softly into Heeseung’s thigh.

They don’t rush to move.

Jake stays inside you, softening but not leaving. Sunghoon keeps petting your clit through the aftershocks, light, soothing touches now. Heeseung strokes your hair back from your face, tucking strands behind your ear.

Jay finally lowers the phone. Stops recording. Sets the mug on the side table. Walks over. He kneels on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed, and cups your cheek. Thumb swipes away the last trace of Heeseung from your lip.

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You nod. Eyes heavy. Body humming. He leans down. Kisses your forehead, soft. Lingering. Then he looks at the others. “Group chat,” he says simply. “She’s gonna want to see it later.”

Jake chuckles, soft, breathless, against your neck. “She’s gonna come again just watching.” Sunghoon finally pulls his hand away. Presses one last kiss to your shoulder blade. Heeseung helps ease you onto your side, careful, like you might shatter. Jake slips out slowly, both of you hissing at the loss. Cum leaks immediately, thick, white, obscene. Jay grabs a clean towel from the nightstand, wipes between your thighs with the same gentle care Heeseung used last night.

No one speaks for a minute. Just breathing. Skin cooling. Hearts slowing. Then Heeseung breaks the quiet. “We were… a lot,” he says. Voice rough. Eyes on yours. “Yesterday. The day before. If it’s too much—”

You shake your head before he can finish. Reach up. Curl your fingers around his wrist. “I’m here,” you whisper. “I’m staying.” Something flickers across his face, relief, maybe. Guilt, definitely.

Jay’s hand finds yours. Squeezes once. Jake presses his lips to the back of your neck, soft, apologetic. Sunghoon just watches you. Then leans in. Kisses the corner of your mouth. Slow. Sweet. “Breakfast,” Jay says eventually. “In bed. No rules for the next hour.”

You laugh, small, wrecked, real. They move like they’ve been given permission to be soft. And for the first time since you moved in, you let yourself believe they might actually mean it. The rest of the day unfolds like something borrowed from another life.

No one touches you. Not in the hungry, claiming way you’ve come to expect. No wandering hands under your shirt while you’re making toast. No casual spanks when you bend to pick up a stray sock. No one pins you against the counter or drags you onto a lap. The rules, those printed, obscene bullet points on the fridge, might as well be written in invisible ink for how irrelevant they feel in the soft, lazy hours that follow breakfast.

They just… stay.

All four of them orbit you without crowding. The living room becomes this strange, sunlit island: blankets dragged from bedrooms, pillows piled into a makeshift nest on the sectional, takeout containers from last night still scattered like evidence of a truce. Someone puts on music, low-fi beats, nothing aggressive, just enough rhythm to fill the quiet without demanding attention. Jake sprawls across the floor with his head in your lap, scrolling memes on his phone and reading the funniest ones out loud in increasingly ridiculous voices until you snort-laugh and accidentally knee him in the ribs.

“Ow, princess, you trying to murder me?” he whines, but he’s grinning, grabbing your hand to press a dramatic kiss to your knuckles before going right back to his phone.

Jay sits cross-legged at the other end of the couch, one of your feet in his lap. He massages your ankle absentmindedly while he argues with Heeseung about whether the new season of some crime drama is trash or genius. Every time you shift, he squeezes your calf once, gentle, grounding, like a silent check-in.

Heeseung’s on the armchair opposite, legs kicked up on the coffee table, nursing the same lukewarm coffee from this morning. He catches your eye every so often and just… holds it. No smirk. No heat. Just a small, almost shy tilt of his mouth, like he’s still surprised you’re still here.

Sunghoon is the quietest. He’s tucked into the corner of the sectional, long legs stretched out, one arm slung over the backrest behind you. He doesn’t say much, just watches. Watches you laugh at Jake’s dumb jokes. Watches the way your shoulders slowly unclench. Watches the way the afternoon light turns your skin gold.

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Every time someone shifts closer, every time a hand brushes your arm or knee, your body tenses on instinct, bracing for the grab, the grope, the inevitable slide into filth. But it never comes.

Instead: Jake starts a pillow fight that lasts exactly thirty five seconds before Jay declares himself referee and tackles Jake into the cushions. Heeseung orders fried chicken and insists on feeding you the first piece, holding it to your lips like Jay used to, but this time there’s no sauce-smeared thumb, no dirty promise in his eyes. Just a soft “Open up, baby,” and when you do, he smiles like you’ve given him something precious.

Sunghoon eventually migrates closer. Not crowding. Just enough that his thigh presses warm against yours. You glance at him, skeptical, guarded, still half-expecting the mask to slip. He notices. Of course he does. His hand lifts, slow, telegraphing every movement so you can pull away if you want. You don’t.

Fingers gentle, he reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingers there, knuckles grazing the shell lightly, before he lets his palm cup the side of your face for half a heartbeat. You freeze. He smiles. Not the cold, cutting one he usually wears. Something smaller. Softer. Almost sad.

“You are our friend, sweetheart,” he says quietly. His voice is low enough that the others have to strain to hear, but they do. The room quiets around the words like they’re something fragile. You blink. Throat tight. Sunghoon’s thumb brushes your cheekbone once, barely there.

“We fucked this up from the start,” he continues, softer still. “We saw you walk through that door looking like you were ready to bolt at the first wrong move… and we made sure every move was wrong. On purpose.” His gaze drops to where his hand still rests against your skin. “Thought it’d be easier if you hated us. If you left on your own. If we never had to admit we wanted you to stay for more than just—”

He stops. Swallows. “—for more than just the easy parts.” The confession hangs there, heavy and unpolished. Jake’s head is still in your lap; he’s gone unnaturally still, staring up at the ceiling like he’s afraid to interrupt. Jay’s thumb has paused on your ankle.

Heeseung sets his coffee down. Slowly. You look around at them, all four, and for the first time you see it: the guilt. Not performative. Not a tactic. Real. Raw. Sitting under their skin like a bruise they’ve been ignoring. Sunghoon’s hand finally drops from your face, but he doesn’t move away.

“We’re not asking for forgiveness,” he says. “We don’t deserve it. Not yet. But we’re not gonna keep treating you like—” He exhales through his nose. “—like you’re disposable. Not anymore.” Silence stretches. Then Jake, sweet, chaotic Jake, breaks it by pressing the softest kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“Friends can still cuddle, right?” he mumbles against your skin. “Because I’m not moving. My head’s too comfy.” A tiny, surprised laugh bubbles out of you. Jay squeezes your calf once. “We’ve got time,” he says simply. “No rush. No rules today.”

Heeseung leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Tell us what you want,” he says. “Right now. Anything. We’ll listen.” You look at them, really look. The assholes who printed rules on the fridge. The ones who marked you, used you, laughed while they did it. The ones who just spent an entire day proving they know how to be gentle when they choose to be. You swallow.

“I want…” Your voice is small at first. Then steadier. “I want to believe you.” Sunghoon’s eyes soften. “Then we’ll keep showing you,” he says. “Until you do.”

Jake nuzzles closer into your lap like a cat claiming territory. Jay resumes the slow massage on your ankle. Heeseung picks up the remote, queues up some mindless comedy you’ve all seen a hundred times.

And Sunghoon, quiet, beautiful, regretful Sunghoon, leans in just enough to rest his forehead against your temple. “Friends,” he whispers again. Like a promise.

Like a beginning. The afternoon bleeds into evening. No one fucks you. No one even tries. They just stay. Laughing. Joking. Touching you like you matter. And for the first time since you moved in, you let yourself lean into it.

Just a little. Just enough to see what happens when the rules stop mattering and the people start to.

The apartment feels different when the others are gone, quieter, yes, but not the hollow kind of quiet that echoes off the walls. It’s softer, warmer, like the whole space exhales once Heeseung, Jay, and Sunghoon finally slip out the door with their jackets half-zipped and promises of “real food” still lingering in the air. Twenty minutes ago they each pressed a kiss to your forehead, Heeseung’s lingering the longest, his thumb sweeping slow circles over your cheekbone as if he still couldn’t quite believe you were letting all four of them stay, Jay’s quick and teasing with a wink, Sunghoon’s almost shy, lips brushing your skin like a secret. They told Jake to behave, and the second the door clicked shut behind them, Jake’s grin turned wicked, golden-retriever energy dialed up to eleven, like the instruction itself was foreplay.

He’s been orbiting you ever since, turning half-hearted chores into an excuse to stay glued to your side. You’re folding laundry on the couch, and he keeps “helping” by snatching shirts out of your hands just to hold them up like trophies before tossing them back in a messy pile. In the kitchen he hip-checks you every time you reach for a dish towel, laughing low and bright when you swat at his chest. The late-afternoon sun pours through the big windows in thick golden slabs, catching on the fine hairs of his arms, turning his skin warm and honeyed. You’re both a little sweaty from moving around, the faint scent of his cologne, something clean, mixing with the laundry detergent and the leftover smell of last night’s fried chicken still clinging to the air. 

“You’re terrible at this,” you say, watching him wrestle a fitted sheet into something that vaguely resembles a rectangle. The elastic corners keep snapping back at him like they have a personal grudge.

Jake flashes that devastating, all-teeth smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m excellent at distractions. Watch this, baby.”

Before you can protest, he shakes the sheet out with dramatic flair, like a matador taunting a bull, then whips it over both your heads in one smooth motion. The world narrows instantly to white cotton filtered sunlight, the fabric draping around you like a private tent. You’re both laughing before you can stop it, deep, helpless belly laughs that make your ribs ache and your eyes water. The sheet muffles everything, turning the sound intimate and close. Jake’s body is right there, heat radiating off him, chest brushing yours with every breathless chuckle. He tugs you deeper under the fabric, arms wrapping loosely around your waist, and suddenly the playful game shifts. His nose nudges yours. You feel the brush of his lashes against your cheek. The laughter fades into something heavier, warmer, the air between you thickening like honey.

“See?” he murmurs, voice low and rougher now. “Masterclass in procrastination.”

You roll your eyes, but your hands are already sliding up his chest, fingers curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You don’t push him away. You pull him closer.

The sheet eventually slips to the floor in a crumpled heap, forgotten. You move down the hallway together, the basket of clean clothes balanced on your hip, Jake trailing so close his fingers keep ghosting the small of your back. You bend over to grab a stray sock that’s escaped onto the floor, nothing exaggerated, just a natural lean, your thin cotton shorts riding up just enough to expose the curve where thigh meets hip. Behind you, Jake sucks in a sharp, punched-out breath, like the sight physically winds him.

You freeze.

His hand settles on your hip, palm broad and hot, fingers spreading wide over the soft flesh through the fabric. Not a slap, not a grope. Just… claiming. Resting there with deliberate weight, thumb stroking a slow, lazy circle that makes your skin prickle. You feel every callus on his fingertips, the faint tremble in his touch like he’s fighting the urge to squeeze harder. Heat blooms low in your belly, liquid and slow.

You straighten up slowly, deliberately, and his hand stays glued to you, sliding with the motion so it ends up cupping the full cheek. He turns you around with the gentlest pressure on your hip, like you’re made of glass he’s terrified of cracking. Your back meets the cool wall of the hallway with a soft thud. Jake crowds in immediately, but not aggressively, his body cages you without trapping, one forearm braced beside your head, the other hand still kneading your ass with slow, possessive squeezes that make your breath hitch.

His eyes have gone dark, almost black, pupils blown wide. Not the usual playful hunger. Something deeper. Hungrier. Worshipful.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice gravel-rough. “You good? Still with me?” You nod, small and shaky, because the air has turned thick, syrupy, every inhale dragging like molasses. Your nipples are already tight against your shirt, and you know he can see it. He leans in like he’s giving you every chance to stop him. The first kiss is feather-light, barely a brush of lips, testing, asking. You answer by tilting your head, parting your mouth just enough, tongue flicking out to taste him. That’s all the permission he needs.

Jake kisses you like he’s been starving for it since the day you moved in, like every shared glance and late-night movie marathon has been foreplay leading to this exact second. Slow. So fucking slow. His lips are plush and warm, sliding against yours with wet, deliberate pressure. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, tongue tracing the seam until you open wider, then he licks inside, deep, lazy strokes that map every inch of you like he’s memorizing the taste. You moan softly into his mouth and he answers with a low, guttural groan that vibrates straight down to your clit. His hand on your ass tightens, pulling you flush against him so you can feel exactly how hard he already is, thick, heavy ridge straining against his sweatpants, pressing right against your lower belly.

One of his hands cradles your jaw, thumb stroking your cheekbone while the other slides up under your shirt, palm flat and scorching against the bare skin of your stomach. He doesn’t rush. His fingers splay wide, stroking up your ribs, tracing the underside of your breasts with reverent touches. When his thumb finally brushes over your nipple, already pebbled and aching, he circles it slowly, pinching just hard enough to make you gasp and arch into him. He swallows the sound, kissing you deeper, tongue fucking into your mouth in filthy, rhythmic strokes that mimic exactly what you wish his cock was doing somewhere else.

You’re grinding on his thigh now, small, helpless rolls of your hips that drag your soaked pussy along the hard muscle. The thin fabric of your shorts is useless; you can feel how wet you’ve gotten, the slickness coating your inner thighs, probably leaving a damp spot on his sweats. Jake breaks the kiss only to drag his open mouth down your jaw, sucking wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. He bites down gently, then soothes it with his tongue, leaving faint red marks that bloom under his lips. You tilt your head back against the wall, exposing more of your throat, and he takes full advantage, licking a hot stripe down to your collarbone, sucking hard enough that you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow, little purple galaxies only the four of them will see.

“Fuck, you taste so fucking good,” he groans against your skin, voice wrecked. “Sweet. Like you’ve been waiting for me to do this all day.”

His hand leaves your breast only to slide down, cupping your pussy through your shorts. He doesn’t push inside, just rubs the heel of his palm in slow, firm circles right over your clit, feeling how soaked the fabric is. You whimper, hips jerking, and he chuckles darkly into your neck.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby? You’re dripping for me already.”

You can’t answer with words, just a broken moan as two of his fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, tracing your slick folds without pushing in, spreading your wetness up to your clit and rubbing tight, teasing circles. Your hands are frantic now, one fisted in his hair, the other palming the thick length of his cock through his sweats, squeezing and stroking him until he’s panting against your mouth, hips twitching like he’s fighting not to rut into your hand.

You kiss for what feels like hours, messy, spit-slick, tongues tangled and sliding. Your lips are swollen and tingling, jaw aching in the best way. He keeps breaking away only to come right back, sucking on your tongue, biting your bottom lip, whispering filthy little praises between kisses.

“So fucking pretty when you’re desperate like this… making those sweet little sounds for me… gonna ruin me, baby, you know that?”

Your legs are trembling. He notices, always notices, and presses his thigh harder between yours, letting you ride it properly now, the friction perfect and relentless. His fingers keep working your clit in lazy strokes, dipping just inside your entrance to gather more slick before sliding back up, never giving you enough to come, just keeping you right on the edge, trembling and whimpering into his mouth.

When he finally pulls back, forehead resting against yours, both of you are breathing like you’ve run miles, chests heaving, lips shiny and red, his hair a complete mess from your fingers. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing visibly against your palm.

“Shit,” he laughs, breathless and shaky. “I didn’t mean to… fuck, I just—”

You cut him off with another kiss, slow, deep, pouring everything you’re feeling into it. When you pull away, you whisper against his swollen lips, “I know. I wanted it too.”

He smiles, that crooked, boyish, heart-stopping smile, and kisses the tip of your nose, then your forehead, then pulls you tight into his chest. His arms wrap around you completely, one hand still cupping your ass possessively, the other stroking soothing circles up and down your spine. You can feel his heart hammering against yours, his cock still hard and insistent between you, but he doesn’t push. Doesn’t grind. Just holds you there in the hallway, the distant hum of the fridge and the faint city traffic the only sounds left.

You stay like that for a long, indulgent stretch of minutes, bodies pressed together, breaths syncing, the ache between your legs still pulsing but somehow perfectly satisfied by the simple fact of being wrapped up in him. His lips brush your temple.

“Friends can make out, right?” he murmurs, echoing the joke from earlier, voice warm with affection and something deeper.

You laugh softly against his chest, the sound muffled and content. “Yeah, Jake. Friends can definitely make out.”

And for now, for this golden, sun-drenched afternoon, that’s more than enough. The others will be back soon, but right now the apartment is yours and his, and he just keeps holding you like he never wants to let go.

The hallway still smells faintly of Jake’s cologne, clean and warm skin, and the soft, powdery scent of laundry detergent clinging to the crumpled clothes you never quite finished putting away. His lips are swollen and glossy from the long, lazy make-out against the wall, cheeks flushed a deep pink, pupils blown so wide the pretty hazel is almost gone. He’s breathing hard through his nose, forehead pressed to yours like he needs the contact to stay grounded, hands still shoved up under your shirt, palms hot and broad against the small of your back, thumbs tracing slow, idle arcs that make your spine tingle.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked and soft all at once, raw like he’s been shouting your name for hours even though he hasn’t. “I need you on me, princess. Need to feel that pretty pussy sliding down my cock right fucking now.”

The words drop straight into your belly, heavy and molten. You swallow hard, thighs pressing together on instinct, and he feels the tiny clench, grins against the side of your neck, boyish and filthy at the same time.

He doesn’t beg. Doesn’t grab. Just brushes his mouth over the shell of your ear, hot breath ghosting, voice a low rasp that curls straight between your legs.

“Ride me. Please. On the couch. Slow. Let me feel every inch of you taking me like you own it.”

Your cunt throbs at the plea. You nod before you even realize you’re doing it.

Jake laces his fingers through yours, gentle, almost sweet, and leads you back down the hall like you’re going for a Sunday stroll, not about to fuck him stupid in the middle of the living room. The late-afternoon light has shifted, pouring across the big sectional in thick, golden rivers; the cushions are still dented from earlier folding sessions, the air warm and lazy. He drops onto the couch first, sprawling wide, legs splayed, grey sweats already tented, the thick outline of his cock straining against the fabric like it’s trying to escape.

He then hooks his fingers against the edge of your shorts and drags them down, along with your panties. His eyes darken as he gulps and looks up at you.

He pats his thigh once, slow, inviting, eyes locked on yours with that crooked, heart-melting grin.

You don’t hesitate. You climb on, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of his hips, and the first slow grind of your bare, soaked cunt against the hard, hot length of him through the thin material rips a twin hiss from both your throats. You’re dripping, have been since he pinned you to the hallway wall, and the fabric is already darkening under you, slick. Jake’s hands settle on your hips, not guiding yet, just holding, thumbs stroking the skin right above the waistband of your shorts like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

You start slow. Torturously slow. Tiny, rolling rocks of your hips that drag your swollen clit along the rigid ridge of his cock again and again. The friction is perfect, wet, hot, teasing. Every pass makes the fabric cling tighter, the head of his dick bumping right where you need it. Jake’s head falls back against the couch, throat working on a low, broken groan, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Goddamn, baby… look at you. Already so fucking wet you’re soaking through my sweats. That little pussy weeping for me.”

You giggle, breathless, giddy, almost embarrassed at how turned on you are, and lean down to kiss him. Soft at first, just lips brushing, then deeper: tongues sliding lazy and messy, tasting the faint salt of his skin and the sweetness of the iced americano he had earlier. His hands slide back under your shirt, palms scalding against your ribs, thumbs circling the undersides of your breasts in slow, reverent strokes until your nipples are tight, aching peaks. He pinches them gently, rolls them between thumb and forefinger, and you arch into his touch with a whimper that makes him smile against your mouth.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he mumbles between kisses, voice thick. “So perfect. Been dreaming about this tight little cunt wrapped around me since the second you walked through that door and smiled at all of us like we hung the moon. Gonna let me feel it now, princess? Gonna sit on my cock and ride me nice and slow?”

You lift just enough to shove his sweats down his thighs. His cock springs free, thick, flushed dark, veins standing out, the tip already glistening with a fat bead of pre-cum that streaks down the shaft when you wrap your fingers around him. One slow, firm stroke from base to head has him groaning, hips twitching up into your fist. You line him up, notch the blunt head against your dripping entrance, and sink down.

The first inch is heaven.

You both moan, long, filthy sounds, as he stretches you open, thick and hot and perfect, splitting you so deliciously slow you feel every ridge, every vein. Your mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut. He bottoms out with your ass flush to his thighs, balls pressed tight against you, and the fullness is so overwhelming your walls flutter around him like you’re already close.

“Fuuuuck,” Jake breathes, hands flexing hard on your hips, fingers digging in just enough to bruise. “That’s it. Take every fucking inch, princess. Look at you, swallowing me like you were made for it. So goddamn tight and wet and perfect.”

You start riding him properly, long, deliberate lifts and sinks, rolling your hips on every downstroke so your clit grinds against his pelvis. The sounds of your cunt taking him echo in the quiet apartment: slick, filthy squelches every time you drop down, his cock glistening with your arousal when you rise. Jake’s eyes are glued to where you’re joined, watching himself disappear inside you over and over with something like awe.

“Listen to that,” he groans, voice cracking. “That sloppy little sound every time you take me. You’re dripping down my balls, baby, making such a pretty mess all over me. Gonna stain the couch and I don’t even care.”

You bury your face in his neck for a second, flushed and turned on beyond words, then bite down on the skin there, light, teasing. He jolts, cock twitching hard inside you, and groans louder.

“Fuck, do that again. Mark me up, princess. Want the others to see who got to have you first.”

You do, sucking a faint pink bloom into his throat while you ride him harder, faster, breasts bouncing under your thin shirt. His mouth finds your nipple through the fabric, sucking hard, teeth grazing, soaking the cotton until it’s transparent and clinging. You cry out, high and needy, hips snapping down faster now, chasing the heat coiling tighter and tighter in your belly.

Jake’s losing it beautifully, head thrown back, throat exposed, hands gripping your ass and spreading you wider so he can watch every inch of his cock sliding in and out of your greedy cunt.

“Shit, ride it harder, baby. Fuck yourself on me. Use my cock like the greedy little slut you are. Come all over it, wanna feel this pussy milk me dry.”

The filthy words spoken in that sweet, reverent tone send you spiraling. You slam down harder, clit grinding relentlessly, thighs burning. He slides one hand between you, thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, firm circles.

“Come on, princess. Give it to me. Soak my cock. Make it messy. Wanna feel you gush.”

You shatter with a broken cry, head thrown back, back arching, clamping down around him in hard, pulsing waves. Your vision whites out. Thighs shake violently. You gush around him, slick flooding out around his base, soaking his balls and the couch beneath you. Jake swears, low and guttural, hips stuttering up once, twice, burying himself to the hilt as he comes, thick, hot ropes of cum painting your walls, filling you so full it leaks out immediately around his throbbing length.

He holds you flush against him through every aftershock, arms banded tight around your waist, forehead pressed to your collarbone, breathing ragged and shaky. You stay like that, sweaty, trembling, his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum slowly trickling out, while he kisses your shoulder, your neck, the corner of your mouth with soft, lazy presses.

“Best fucking ride of my life,” he mumbles, voice hoarse and sated, nuzzling into your hair.

You laugh, soft, spent, glowing, and nuzzle back. “Friends can do that too, right?”

He chuckles, kissing your temple. “Friends can do whatever the fuck they want.” You’re still seated on him, his cock twitching occasionally inside your cum-filled pussy, when the front door clicks open.

Neither of you moves fast enough. Sunghoon steps in first, grocery bags dangling from one hand, keys in the other, the faint scent of fresh produce and restaurant takeout wafting in with him. He freezes mid-step. Eyes lock on the scene: you straddling Jake on the couch, shirt rucked up to your collarbones, thighs spread obscenely wide, Jake’s cock still half-hard and buried inside you, thick white cum already leaking in slow, creamy rivulets down his balls and onto the cushion.

The bags hit the floor with a heavy, forgotten thud. A carton of eggs probably cracks, but no one cares. Sunghoon’s jaw tightens so hard you hear the sharp click of his teeth. His eyes, usually cool and calm, go black, dangerous, glittering with something possessive and furious.

“What. The. Fuck.”

His voice is ice wrapped in velvet. Low. Deadly calm. Jake startles, arms tightening around you protectively, but he doesn’t dare pull out. Doesn’t even try to cover you.

“Hyung—wait, it’s not—”

Sunghoon crosses the room in three long strides, towering over both of you. He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t shove Jake. Just reaches down, grips your chin between thumb and forefinger, firm, not bruising, and tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb drags slow and deliberate across your bottom lip, then presses inside. You suck instinctively, tongue swirling around the digit, tasting the faint salt of his skin.

His eyes flick to Jake, cold as winter.

“Get out from under her. Now.”

Jake hesitates half a second. Sunghoon’s voice drops even lower, lethal.

“I said now.”

Jake lifts you carefully with a wet, filthy sound that makes Sunghoon’s nostrils flare. The moment he slips free, a thick gush of his cum pours out of you, sliding down your inner thighs in white trails. Jake stays seated on the couch, chest heaving as he watches warily.

Sunghoon never looks away from you. He steps closer, one hand sliding to the nape of your neck, thumb pressing right over your racing pulse, while the other grips your hip hard enough to anchor you. “You let him fuck you the second we walked out the door?” he murmurs, voice velvet and venom, lips brushing your ear. “Spread this pretty pussy for whoever was home first? Without waiting for me? Without even texting?”

You shake your head, small, instinctive, breath caught in your throat. “No?”

He leans in closer, breath hot against your skin. “Then why the fuck are you stuffed so full of him, hmm?”

Two of his long fingers dip between your thighs without warning, sliding deep into your cum-slick cunt with a wet squelch. You gasp, knees buckling. He curls them slowly, deliberately, scissoring, feeling the warm, sticky mess Jake left behind, pushing it deeper before dragging it out again. When he pulls his fingers free they’re coated thick and white. He holds them up between you, shiny, dripping, then brings them to your mouth.

“Clean.”

You open obediently. Suck his fingers clean, tongue swirling, tasting yourself and Jake and the faint metallic tang of Sunghoon’s skin, moaning around them while he watches with dark, unblinking eyes.

“Good girl,” he praises, voice low and rough. Then, suddenly, he yanks you forward by the neck and kisses you, hard, possessive, teeth clashing, tongue fucking into your mouth like he’s erasing every trace of Jake’s kisses. When he pulls back his lips are wet, eyes blazing with jealousy and hunger.

“Bedroom. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for you to walk. Just scoops you up like you weigh nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck, cum still dripping down your thighs and onto his shirt. Jake scrambles up and follows, sweats tugged up haphazardly.

Sunghoon kicks the bedroom door shut behind the three of you with a bang that rattles the frame. He drops you onto the bed, gentle enough not to hurt, rough enough that you bounce, thighs splaying open automatically. He looms over you, tall and broad and radiating controlled fury.

“Strip. Everything off. Let me see exactly what he got to play with while I was gone.”

You obey instantly, tugging your shirt over your head, shoving your shorts down, kicking them aside until you’re completely bare, pussy puffy and glistening.

His gaze rakes over every inch of you, slow, possessive, furious, hungry. He licks his lips. “You’re mine tonight, princess. All fucking mine. And you’re going to feel exactly who this cunt belongs to until you can’t remember anyone else’s name.”

He glances at Jake, standing frozen by the door, eyes wide and cock twitching in his sweats.

“You can watch,” Sunghoon says coldly, voice like a blade. “But you don’t touch. Not until I say so. You sit there and watch me take back what’s mine.”

Jake swallows hard. Nods once. Sinks into the chair in the corner, hand already palming himself through his sweats like he can’t help it.

Sunghoon turns back to you. Grabs your thighs in both hands and spreads them wide, wide enough that your folds spread, dripping. He lowers his head slowly, eyes locked on yours the entire time.

The first long, vicious swipe of his tongue through your folds is punishing, hot, wet, claiming, licking every drop of Jake’s cum straight out of you like he’s erasing the evidence. You arch off the bed with a sharp cry, hands flying to his hair. Sunghoon doesn’t stop. He eats you like a man starved, tongue fucking deep inside your cum-filled hole, sucking noisily, swallowing every filthy mix of you and Jake with low, possessive growls that vibrate straight to your clit. He sucks your swollen folds into his mouth, tongue flicking mercilessly over your clit, then dives back in to lap at the creamy mess still oozing out of you.

You’re moaning, loud, broken, shameless, hips grinding against his face while he devours you, chin and lips shiny with cum and your fresh slick. He pulls back just long enough to growl against your thigh,

“Gonna lick every last drop of him out of this pussy until it only tastes like me. And then I’m going to fuck you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow when the others take their turns.”

His mouth seals back over your clit, sucking hard, two fingers plunging deep, and the jealousy is only just beginning.

The bedroom is thick with the sounds of Sunghoon’s mouth devouring you, long, filthy drags of his tongue through your cum-slick folds, sucking Jake’s release out of your fluttering hole like he’s personally insulted by every drop. He’s relentless, humming low against your clit, two fingers curled deep inside you, scissoring and stroking that spongy spot that makes your thighs quake around his ears. Your back is arched off the bed, hands fisted in his dark hair, moans spilling out broken and shameless as another orgasm teeters right on the edge.

Then the door bangs open.

Heeseung fills the frame like a storm cloud, broad shoulders tight, jaw locked, one hand fisted in the back of Jake’s t-shirt. Jake looks wrecked already: lips kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed crimson, cock still half-hard and shiny with your slick, the cocky little grin from earlier completely wiped away. Heeseung doesn’t even glance at you at first. His voice is low, calm, the kind of calm that makes the air feel heavier.

“Living room. Now.”

Jake opens his mouth, probably to whine, to joke, to try and charm his way out of it, but Heeseung’s grip tightens, fabric stretching across Jake’s shoulders. Jake stumbles forward instead, casting one last wide-eyed look at you before they disappear down the hall. The living-room door shuts with a soft, deliberate click that somehow feels louder than a slam.

You’re left panting, chest heaving, Sunghoon’s tongue still lazily circling your clit like the interruption was nothing more than background noise. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your dripping pussy, then pulls back slowly, lips glossy, chin glistening with a messy mix of you and Jake. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, slow and deliberate, eyes dark and glittering with dark amusement as he rises to his knees between your spread thighs.

“Looks like someone earned himself a timeout,” he murmurs, voice velvet-rough, thumb brushing a lazy stripe up your inner thigh to collect the fresh slick still leaking out of you. His gaze flicks toward the hallway, then back to your flushed, trembling body. “Guess that leaves the three of us to remind you exactly how this works, princess.”

Jay appears in the doorway a heartbeat later, arms crossed over his chest, shoulder propped against the frame, eyes raking over you with that cool, assessing hunger that always makes your stomach flip. He takes his time stepping inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet snick, the lock clicking into place like a promise.

You try to push yourself up on your elbows, instinct, nerves, the sudden awareness of how exposed and messy you are, but Sunghoon’s large hand plants flat on your sternum and pushes you right back down into the mattress. Firm. Unyielding. Possessive.

“Stay right there,” he says softly, almost sweet, but the edge underneath it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Jay stops at the foot of the bed, looking down at the obscene picture you make: completely naked, skin flushed pink, thighs shiny with slick and cum, nipples tight and begging, pussy puffy and still leaking. He reaches out, fingers threading through the hair at your scalp, tightening until your breath hitches. He yanks your head back just enough to expose the long line of your throat, thumb stroking once over your racing pulse.

“You let him fuck you raw the second we left,” Jay says, voice low and dangerously even. “Without asking. Without waiting. Without even a text to let us know our pretty little slut was getting her cunt filled.”

His free hand slides down your body, possessive, claiming, cupping your soaked pussy like it belongs to him. Two thick fingers push inside without warning, rough and deep, curling hard against that spot that makes white sparks burst behind your eyes. You cry out, hips jerking, walls fluttering greedily around the intrusion.

Sunghoon watches with a mean little smile, one hand lazily stroking his own thick cock. “This pussy,” Jay continues, voice dropping to a growl as he pumps his fingers faster, “is ours. All of ours. You don’t get to decide who fills it first when we’re not here. Understand?”

You nod frantically, tears of overwhelming pleasure already pricking your eyes. “Y-yes—fuck—yes, it’s yours—”

Sunghoon’s hand replaces Jay’s on your throat, long fingers wrapping around the column, squeezing just enough to make the edges of your vision sparkle and your cunt gush around Jay’s fingers. Not cutting off air. Just reminding you who’s in control.

“Good girl,” Sunghoon breathes against your ear, leaning down to bite your earlobe. “Now prove it.”

They move like they’ve choreographed this a hundred times in their heads.

Jay flips you onto your stomach in one smooth motion, face pressed into the sheets that already smell like sex, ass up high, back arched deep. He keeps one hand fisted tight in your hair, yanking your head back until your spine bends in that perfect, aching curve. Sunghoon shoves your thighs wider apart, knees sinking into the mattress as he kneels behind you. His cock is flushed dark, angry, veins throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip as he lines up and slams in, deep, brutal, one single punishing thrust that punches the air straight out of your lungs.

You scream into the sheets, the stretch burning so good it borders on too much. Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to adjust. He sets a ruthless pace immediately, hips snapping forward, balls slapping wetly against your clit with every brutal drive, the wet squelch of your cum-filled pussy echoing obscenely. Jay releases your hair only to wrap his hand around your throat from the front instead, squeezing in perfect time with Sunghoon’s thrusts, thumb pressing under your jaw so you feel every heartbeat.

“Take it,” Jay growls, voice rough with arousal. “Every fucking inch. You wanted cock so bad you couldn’t even wait for all of us? Then you’re gonna take everything we give you, princess. Gonna let us ruin this greedy little hole until you remember who it belongs to.”

Sunghoon leans over your back, chest slick with sweat against your spine, one hand fisting your hair now while the other reaches around to slap your clit, sharp, stinging little taps that make you clench and sob. Jay’s free hand comes down hard on your ass, once, twice, three times, each smack leaving a bright red handprint that blooms hot across your skin.

“Whose pussy is this?” Jay demands, voice low and filthy.

“Yours—” you sob, voice cracking. “Yours—fuck—yours—Sunghoon—Jay—please—”

Sunghoon yanks your head back harder, lips brushing your ear as he pounds into you. “Say it louder. Let the whole fucking apartment hear who owns this cunt.”

The rhythmic slap of skin on skin, your choked moans, Sunghoon’s low possessive growls—“This tight little pussy is fucking mine”—carry clearly down the hallway.

In the living room, Heeseung has Jake pinned against the wall by the collar, fist raised, knuckles white with restraint. The first muffled scream from the bedroom makes them both freeze. Then another, higher, broken, needy. The unmistakable wet slap of Sunghoon’s hips. Jay’s dark chuckle. Your desperate, gagged whimpers around whatever they’re doing to your mouth now.

Heeseung’s fist slowly lowers. Jake’s eyes go wide, cock twitching visibly in his sweats.

Heeseung turns toward the bedroom door, expression unreadable but eyes burning.

Then they’re both moving, fast. 

They burst through the door just as Sunghoon buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan. You’re a complete wreck: face down, ass up, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth, tears streaking your cheeks, ass glowing red from Jay’s handprints, cunt stretched obscenely around Sunghoon’s thick cock, creamy cum from Jake and your own slick coating your thighs.

Heeseung stops at the foot of the bed, takes one long, possessive look at the scene, then climbs on without a word. 

“Move,” he tells Sunghoon, voice low and lethal.

Sunghoon slows just enough to pull out with a wet, filthy pop, thick strings of cum and slick connecting his cock to your gaping hole. Heeseung grabs your hips, flips you onto your back like you weigh nothing, and hooks your legs over his arms, folding you in half until your knees are by your ears. He lines up and slams in, harder, deeper, angrier than Sunghoon, bottoming out in one brutal thrust that makes you scream his name.

Jay pulls back from where he’d been feeding you his cock, letting you gasp for air, then moves behind you. Sunghoon shifts to your side, hand wrapping around your throat again, thumb stroking your pulse almost tenderly now.

Jay presses the blunt head of his cock against your ass, already slick from the mess dripping down, and pushes in slow, relentless, the burn intense and overwhelming as he stretches you open around him. Heeseung stays buried to the hilt in your pussy, holding perfectly still while Jay sinks deeper, until both of them are fully seated inside you, rubbing against each other through the thin wall, filling you so completely you can feel them in your throat.

You’re sobbing, overwhelmed, stretched to your limit, pleasure so sharp it hurts, in the best possible way.

“Breathe, baby,” Sunghoon murmurs, voice softer now, fingers loosening just enough on your throat. “You’re taking us so fucking well. Such a good girl for us.”

They start moving, slow at first, testing, letting you adjust to the impossible fullness. Then harder. Deeper. Alternating thrusts, Heeseung driving in while Jay pulls out, Jay slamming home while Heeseung retreats, until the rhythm syncs and they’re both fucking into you at the same time, stretching you open on two thick cocks with every synchronized thrust.

Jake stands frozen by the door, cock rock-hard again, hand wrapped tight around it, stroking himself slow and desperate, eyes wide and glassy with guilt and raw arousal. Sunghoon notices. His voice cuts through the wet sounds of flesh. “Watch, Jake. You started this. Now you get to watch how we remind her exactly who she belongs to.”

Jay’s fingers find your swollen, oversensitive clit, rubbing fast, rough circles that make your vision spark white.

“Come,” he orders, voice rough. “Come on both our cocks. Milk us. Show us who this perfect body belongs to.”

You shatter harder than you ever have, screaming, back bowing, spasming violently around both cocks, gushing slick down Heeseung’s shaft as your orgasm rips through you in endless waves. Heeseung comes first with a deep, broken growl of your name, flooding your pussy with hot, thick pulses. Jay follows seconds later, burying himself deep in your ass and filling you with rope after rope until it leaks out around his base. Sunghoon strokes himself twice, fast and rough, then spills across your stomach and tits in long, creamy stripes, marking you visibly.

They don’t pull out right away.

Just stay buried deep inside you, panting, sweating, chests heaving, holding you between them like something precious and thoroughly, beautifully ruined.

Heeseung leans down first, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to your tear-streaked cheek. “Mine,” he whispers against your skin.

Jay echoes it against your shoulder, lips brushing the fresh bite mark Sunghoon left earlier. “Mine.”

Sunghoon’s fingers loosen completely on your throat, turning into gentle strokes along your jaw. “Mine too, princess. Always.”

You’re trembling, wrecked, full to overflowing, claimed in every possible way. And Jake, still standing by the door, cock leaking in his fist, eyes shiny with regret and desperate need, looks like he’s never wanted forgiveness more in his life.

The entire room smells like sex and sweat and something deeper, something dangerously close to devotion. None of them move to let you go. Not yet.

The room is thick with the aftermath, sweat, sex, the faint metallic tang of overstimulation hanging in the air like smoke. Your body feels liquid and heavy, every muscle spent, every inch of skin marked in some way: fingerprints blooming on your hips, faint red lines from Sunghoon’s grip on your throat, the slow leak of them all still inside you, warm and obscene between your thighs.

No one moves right away.

Heeseung is the first to shift. He eases out of you carefully, slow, deliberate, hissing softly at the drag. Jay follows, pulling out with the same measured gentleness, both of them watching your face for any flicker of pain. Sunghoon’s hand leaves your throat last, fingers trailing down your sternum in a soothing path before he sits back on his heels.

You’re trembling, small, involuntary shivers that ripple through you like aftershocks. Jay notices first. He reaches over the side of the bed, grabs the soft throw blanket that’s been kicked to the floor sometime in the last hour. Drapes it over your lower half, tucking it around your waist like he’s wrapping something fragile.

“Easy,” he murmurs. Voice low, rough from use. “We’ve got you.”

Heeseung slides off the bed, still naked, still glistening, and disappears into the en-suite bathroom. Water runs. A minute later he returns with two warm, damp cloths. One for your face, one for between your legs.

He kneels beside you. Presses the cloth to your cheek first, gentle swipes over tear tracks, then your swollen lips. You lean into it without thinking. Heeseung’s free hand cups the back of your head, thumb stroking the base of your skull in slow circles.

Sunghoon moves to your other side. Takes the second cloth from Heeseung when he’s done with your face. Parts your thighs carefully, murmurs a soft “shh” when you flinch at the cool air, and cleans you with careful strokes. Between your folds, down your thighs, over the sticky mess on your stomach and chest. He’s thorough. Patient. Every pass of the cloth feels like an apology he doesn’t know how to say out loud.

Jake is still hovering near the door, shirtless now, sweats low on his hips, looking like he’s not sure he’s allowed to come closer. Heeseung glances at him once. Sharp. Then softer.

“Water,” Heeseung says. Not an order. Just a word. Jake nods, quick, grateful, and bolts. Heeseung turns back to you.

“Can you sit up a little?” You nod, weak, but willing. Jay helps, arm around your shoulders, easing you against the headboard. Pillows get rearranged behind your back until you’re propped comfortably. The blanket stays tucked around your waist; someone (Sunghoon) pulls the sheet up to cover your chest without smothering you.

Jake returns with a tall glass of water and, somehow, a small tray he must have grabbed from the kitchen. On it: a bowl of cut fruit (strawberries, mango, grapes, someone’s idea of “recovery food”), a few pieces of the chocolate they keep stashed in the fridge, a packet of electrolyte powder already stirred into a second glass.

He sets it on the nightstand. Doesn’t try to climb on the bed yet. Just stands there, hands in his pockets, looking at you like you might vanish if he blinks.

Jay picks up a strawberry first. Holds it to your lips.

“Open.”

You do. The fruit is cold, sweet, bursting on your tongue. Jay feeds you slowly, another strawberry, then a piece of mango. His fingers brush your bottom lip each time, wiping away juice with his thumb.

Sunghoon takes over with the chocolate. Breaks off a small square, places it on your tongue. Watches you melt it slowly, eyes dark but soft.

“You did so good,” he says quietly. Almost to himself. “Took everything we gave you.”

Heeseung handles the water, holds the glass to your lips, tips it carefully so you can sip without spilling. When you’ve had enough, he sets it aside and wipes your mouth with the edge of the sheet.

Jake finally moves closer, slow, like he’s approaching something skittish. He perches on the very edge of the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Voice small. “For earlier. For not waiting. For—” Heeseung cuts him off with a look. Not angry. Tired.

“Later,” Heeseung says. “She needs rest now.” Jake nods. Swallows hard. Jay reaches over, squeezes Jake’s shoulder once, firm, forgiving, then turns back to you.

“More?” he asks, nodding at the tray.

You shake your head. Full. Heavy-lidded. The ache between your legs has dulled to a low, satisfied throb; your limbs feel like warm honey.

Sunghoon takes the tray away. Sets it on the dresser.

Heeseung pulls the covers up higher, tucking them around your shoulders, smoothing the fabric over your chest. Jay adjusts the pillows again so you’re lying flat but elevated just enough. They surround you, four bodies, four sources of warmth, without crowding.

Heeseung lies on your left. Arm draped loosely over your waist. Not possessive. Protective. Jay on your right. Hand resting on your hip under the blanket. Thumb stroking idle arcs. Sunghoon stretches out at the foot of the bed, long legs hanging off the edge, head pillowed on your thigh like it’s the most natural place in the world.

Jake curls up against your legs, face tucked into the crook of your knee, one arm thrown over your shins like he’s anchoring himself there. No one speaks for a long minute. Just breathing. Slow. In sync.

Heeseung’s fingers find yours under the blanket. Laces them together. Squeezes once. “Sleep,” he murmurs against your temple. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Jay presses a kiss to your shoulder, soft, lingering. Sunghoon’s hand strokes down your calf, slow, soothing.

Jake mumbles something sleepy against your skin, too quiet to catch, but it feels like “thank you.” Your eyes flutter closed. The room smells like them, all of them, mixed with clean sheets and the faint sweetness of fruit. Just warm bodies. Gentle hands. Quiet promises. And the steady rhythm of four heartbeats lulling you under.

The idea starts innocently enough.

It’s been three days since the jealousy the three had that they claimed was just ‘heat of the moment’ but you knew better, and the apartment has settled into something dangerously close to domestic. Mornings are soft now, coffee passed hand-to-hand, lazy kisses traded over toast, rules quietly ignored unless someone’s feeling particularly mean. The fridge note is still taped up, but no one’s enforced them. It’s almost… normal.

Almost. Jay is the one who brings it up first. You’re sprawled across his lap on the sectional Sunday afternoon, legs tangled with Sunghoon’s, Jake’s head pillowed on your stomach while Heeseung scrolls through takeout apps from the armchair. Jay’s fingers are tracing idle patterns on your bare thigh, higher than friendly,lower than any action, when he says it.

“I want to take you out.”

The room stills. You lift your head from Jake’s hair. “Like… a date?” Jay’s mouth quirks. “Yeah. A date. Just you and me. Dinner. Somewhere nice. No roommates crashing.”

Sunghoon snorts without looking up from his phone. “Good luck with that.”

Heeseung glances over the top of his screen. “You’re asking permission?”

Jay shrugs. “I’m telling you. Friday night. She’s mine for the evening.”

Jake sits up slowly, blinking sleep from his eyes. “Wait—solo? Like, no sharing?”

Jay’s hand tightens on your thigh. “No sharing. One night. My rules.”

You feel the shift immediately, the air thickening with something possessive and unspoken. Heeseung’s jaw ticks once. Sunghoon finally looks up, eyes narrowing. Jake just pouts. But no one argues. Friday comes fast.

Jay picks the restaurant himself, small, upscale Italian place downtown. Dim lighting, velvet booths, candles that cost more than your old rent. He texts you the address at 6:45 p.m. sharp.

Jay: Wear something pretty baby ;) preferably no panties sweetheart

You roll your eyes at the winky face and the last obligation, but you obey anyway.

The dress is black, silk, short enough to make you nervous when you sit. Heels that click satisfyingly on the pavement. Hair down, lips red. When Jay arrives to pick you up, he stops dead in the doorway.

“Fuck,” he breathes. Steps close. Cups your face with both hands and kisses you slow, deep, claiming, tasting like mint and want. “You’re killing me.”

The drive is quiet. His hand rests high on your thigh the whole way, thumb stroking the inside seam, never quite reaching where you’re already wet. He doesn’t speak. Just smiles every time you squirm.

The restaurant is perfect.

A corner booth. Wine list thicker than a novel. Jay orders for both of you, pasta, seared scallops, tiramisu for later. His knee presses against yours under the table. His fingers brush yours when he passes the bread. It feels… romantic. Normal. Like you’re a real couple on a real date.

You’re laughing at some stupid story he’s telling about Sunghoon trying to cook once when the first text comes through.

Jake: picture of him pouting on the couch  

Jake: miss u already princess 😩

You snort. Show Jay. He rolls his eyes. “Ignore them.”

Another buzz.

Sunghoon: timestamped selfie, him shirtless in the kitchen, knife in hand, looking bored  

Sunghoon: hurry up. food’s getting cold here

Jay exhales through his nose. “They’re children.” Heeseung’s text is last.

Heeseung: Enjoy your date. We’ll behave.  

Heeseung: …mostly.

Your not sure what that means, you’re not sure if you want to find out. You laugh, soft, nervous, and slip your phone face-down. Jay reaches across the table. Takes your hand. Laces your fingers. “I meant it,” he says quietly. “Tonight’s just us. No crashing. No rules. Just you and me.”

You believe him. For about seven more minutes. The scallops arrive. Perfectly seared. You’re mid-bite when the restaurant door opens. And four familiar silhouettes step inside. Jake first, grinning like he invented mischief. Sunghoon behind him, hands in pockets, expression unreadable. Heeseung last, calm, collected, scanning the room until his eyes land on you.

Jay’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth.

“Motherfuckers,” he mutters.

They don’t hesitate. Jake slides into the booth beside you first, arm slung casually over the backrest, fingers immediately finding the nape of your neck. “Hey, princess. Fancy seeing you here.”

Sunghoon takes the seat next to Jay, long legs stretching out, forcing Jay to shift. “Nice place. Bit pretentious, though.”

Heeseung pulls up a chair from a nearby table, unapologetic, sits at the end like he owns the booth. “We were in the neighborhood.”

Jay’s jaw is so tight you’re worried it’ll crack.

“You said you would behave.”

Heeseung shrugs. “We are. We’re not fucking her on the table. Yet.”

Your face burns. Jake laughs, bright, delighted, leans in and kisses your cheek. Loud. Wet. “You look so pretty. Red lipstick’s a nice touch.”

Sunghoon reaches across Jay to steal a scallop off your plate. “He’s right. You do look fuckable.” Jay slams his fork down.

“That’s enough.” The table goes quiet.

Jay’s voice is low. Dangerous. “I said one night. Just me and her. You had your turns. Back off.”

Heeseung leans forward. Elbows on the table. “We’re not here to take her. We’re here to watch you try to have her all to yourself.” His gaze flicks to you, dark, heated. “And see how long it takes before she’s begging for the rest of us.”

Jake’s fingers tighten on your neck. “C’mon, hyung. Don’t be dramatic. We can share the appetizer.”

Sunghoon smirks. “Or the main course.”

You’re throbbing under the table. The silk dress feels too tight. The wine too warm in your veins. Jay looks at you, really looks. “Are you okay with this?”

You swallow. Meet his eyes. Then glance at the others. Then back to him. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “But… maybe we skip dessert here.”

Jay exhales, half-laugh, half-snarl. “Bathroom,” he says. “Now.” He stands. Pulls you up with him. The others don’t move. They just exchange knowing glances. Jake just grins. “We’ll keep watch.”

Jay drags you through the restaurant, hand firm on your lower back, past the bar, down the narrow hallway, into the single-stall bathroom at the end.

He locks the door. Spins you around. Pushes you forward until your palms slap the sink. The mirror is huge. You watch your own reflection, lips parted, chest heaving, dress already rucked up to your hips.

Jay’s behind you, fly open, cock hard and leaking. He doesn’t speak. Just yanks your dress higher, notches himself at your entrance, and thrusts in, hard. Deep. One brutal stroke that makes you cry out.

“Quiet,” he growls against your ear. Hand clamps over your mouth. “They can hear.” He fucks you like he’s proving a point. Fast. Rough. Hips snapping. The sink rattles. Your tits bounce with every thrust. His other hand fists your hair, yanks your head back so you’re watching yourself in the mirror.

“Look at you,” he pants. “Taking it so good. Even when they crash. Even when I try to keep you to myself.”

You moan into his palm, muffled, desperate.

He reaches around. Finds your clit. Pinches. Rolls. Hard.

“Come,” he orders. “Come on my cock before they barge in.”

You do, fast, violent, clenching around him so hard he swears. He follows seconds later, burying deep, spilling hot inside you with a choked groan.

He doesn’t pull out right away. Just holds you there, chest to your back,breathing ragged. Then he kisses your shoulder. Soft. Apologetic. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help it.” You laugh, shaky, wrecked.

He pulls out slowly. Fixes your dress. Wipes between your thighs with paper towels from the dispenser. When you open the door, Jake’s leaning against the opposite wall. Arms crossed. Smirking. “Took you long enough.”

Jay glares. Jake pushes off the wall. Steps close. Kisses you, quick, filthy, tasting Jay on your tongue. “My turn to watch the door,” he says. “Go wait in the car. Round two’s on us.”

Jay takes your hand. Leads you out, past the hostess who definitely knows what just happened, into the cool night air.

The car is parked in the back lot, tinted windows, engine already running. Sunghoon’s in the driver’s seat. Heeseung in the passenger. Both turn when you climb in the back. Sunghoon’s eyes drop to the wet spot on your dress. Smiles, slow, predatory.

“Missed the show?” Heeseung reaches back. Pulls you onto his lap. “Plenty of time for round two,” he murmurs against your neck. Jay slides in beside you. Jake climbs in last, locks the doors. The engine starts. And the night? The night is far from over.

The black SUV idles in the shadowed back lot behind the restaurant, engine a low, steady rumble beneath the distant pulse of music leaking from the outdoor speakers. Tinted windows seal the interior into a private world, leather seats already radiating warmth, the air heavy with Jay’s cologne, the sharp bite of expensive whiskey on their breath, and the unmistakable, intimate musk of sex that still clings to your skin.

You’re straddling Heeseung in the center of the back seat, silk dress shoved up around your waist, thighs spread wide over his hips. His dark jeans are damp where your leaking cunt has pressed against him. Heeseung doesn’t flinch. His hands are beneath the fabric, broad palms cupping your bare ass, fingers spreading you open with deliberate care, holding you exposed and vulnerable in the dim glow filtering through the windows.

Jay sits to your left, shirt untucked, collarbones still flushed, lips swollen and red from the way he’d fucked you against the marble sink in the bathroom minutes earlier. Sunghoon occupies the right side, long legs stretched out, one hand already working the thick outline of his cock through tailored slacks, eyes fixed on the sight between your thighs. Jake has twisted around in the front passenger seat, forearm braced on the headrest, gaze dark and unblinking.

For several long seconds, no one speaks.

Only the rhythm of heavy breathing, the soft creak of leather as bodies shift, the faint metallic tick of the cooling engine. Then Heeseung’s voice, low, gravel-rough, breaks the silence against the shell of your ear.

“You’re still dripping him,” he murmurs, one hand sliding from your ass to slip between your legs from behind. Two fingers push into the slick, swollen heat of your cunt, gathering Jay’s release and pressing it back inside with slow, unhurried strokes. The wet sound is obscene in the confined space. “Can feel it leaking out. Can’t let that go to waste.”

Your body reacts before your mind can catch up, inner walls fluttering, a soft, helpless whimper slipping past your lips as your hips twitch forward. Jay’s hand joins Heeseung’s without hesitation. Four fingers now, stretching you wider, scooping the thick cum deeper, curling against the front wall until your breath hitches sharply.

“He’s right,” Jay says, voice quiet but edged with something darker, more possessive. “We should keep you full. All night. Every time one of us finishes, the next one pushes it right back in.”

Sunghoon leans in closer, breath ghosting hot along the side of your neck. His voice is velvet and steel. “Full until it takes. Until you’re so thoroughly bred there’s no question who put it there.”

The words hit like a physical blow, low in your belly, sharp and electric. Your cunt clenches hard around their fingers, a fresh gush of slick coating their knuckles.

Jake’s eyes widen in the front seat. “Fuck—did you just—”

“I said,” Sunghoon repeats, slower, darker, each syllable deliberate, “full until it takes. Until this perfect little cunt is swollen and leaking and carrying exactly what we give it.”

Heeseung’s free hand slides up to cradle the front of your throat, not squeezing, simply holding, thumb resting over your racing pulse. “You like that thought, don’t you?” he asks softly, lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear. “All four of us pumping you full, one right after the other. No pulling out. No wasting a single drop. Just letting it stay deep until your body has no choice but to keep it.”

You nod, frantic, tears already gathering at the corners of your eyes because the fantasy is suddenly too vivid, too real, too close to everything your body has been silently begging for.

Jay’s fingers crook harder, pressing ruthlessly against that spot that makes your vision blur. “Use your words.” 

“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “Want you to, to breed me. Fill me until I can’t take any more. Until it’s all inside me. Please—”

A chorus of low, guttural groans fills the car. Heeseung lifts you just high enough to shove his jeans and briefs down his thighs. His cock springs free, thick, flushed dark, already leaking at the tip. He doesn’t tease. He simply guides you down onto him in one long, controlled descent, stretching you open around his length until your ass meets his hips and he’s buried to the hilt.

You cry out, head falling back against his shoulder, nails digging into his forearms.

“That’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Take every inch. Take every fucking drop I’m about to give you.” He begins to move, deep, rolling thrusts that grind the head of his cock against your cervix with punishing precision. Jay’s hand stays between your legs, fingers circling your clit in tight, relentless loops while Heeseung fucks up into you with measured force.

Sunghoon has already freed himself completely, long, elegant fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking slowly, eyes never leaving the place where Heeseung disappears inside you over and over. “My turn comes next,” he says, voice low and certain. “I’m going to add to it. Make sure nothing escapes.”

Jake’s hand is inside his own pants now, stroking himself in perfect time with Heeseung’s rhythm, breath coming in short, ragged pants. “Look at her,” he mutters, almost reverent. “So fucking desperate to be filled. Greedy little thing.”

Heeseung’s pace builds, hips snapping up harder, faster, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the car. “I’m going to come inside you,” he warns, voice strained. “Going to flood this tight cunt until it’s overflowing. You ready for it?”

“Yes—please—Heeseung—”

He buries himself as deep as possible and comes with a long, broken groan, hot, thick pulses painting your walls, filling you so completely you feel the pressure build behind your navel. Even as you clench down hard, trying to keep it all in, the excess begins to leak out around his base, coating his balls and dripping onto the leather.

He doesn’t pull out. He simply holds you there, still hard, still buried deep, while Jay shifts.

Jay moves to kneel on the seat beside you, one knee braced against the cushion. He nudges Heeseung’s softening length aside just enough to press his own cock against your already-stretched entrance. The stretch is immediate, two thick cocks forcing their way inside the same slick channel, rubbing against each other through the thin barrier of your walls. You scream, muffled against Heeseung’s shoulder, body shaking violently.

Jay fucks into you with short, brutal thrusts, the friction almost unbearable. “This pussy is going to take all of us tonight,” he growls, voice rough with possession. “Going to be so full of cum you’ll feel it moving inside you every time you breathe.”

Sunghoon reaches over, fingers finding your clit again, pinching, rolling, tugging, pushing you higher and higher while Jay pounds relentlessly.

The orgasm crashes through you without warning, sharp, blinding, walls spasming so violently around both cocks that Jay swears under his breath. His hips stutter, then slam forward one last time as he comes, hot spurts mixing with Heeseung’s release until you’re overflowing, thick rivulets running down your thighs and soaking the seat beneath you.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to recover.

He yanks you off both of them, strong hands manhandling you onto all fours across the wide back seat, ass presented high, face pressed into Heeseung’s lap. He lines up and drives in with one punishing thrust, burying himself to the hilt in a single motion that forces the air from your lungs.

“This cunt is getting bred tonight,” he snarls, voice low and dangerous. “I’m going to pump you so full you’ll be leaking for days. Every step you take tomorrow, you’ll feel us still inside you.”

He fucks like it’s a claiming, like he needs to imprint himself deeper than the others. One hand fists your hair, yanking your head back until your spine arches sharply. The car rocks with the force of his thrusts.

Jake climbs over the center console into the back, kneeling in front of your face. He guides his cock to your lips. You open for him immediately, taking him deep, sucking with sloppy, desperate hunger while Sunghoon rails you from behind.

Sunghoon comes with a guttural sound, hips locked flush against your ass, flooding you with another hot load until it spills out around his base and runs in sticky trails down your inner thighs.

Jake pulls free from your mouth, strokes himself twice, and spills across your lower back in thick, warm ropes, marking your skin. They rotate again, Heeseung sliding back in, then Jay, then Sunghoon, each one adding more, fucking it deeper, pushing it against your cervix with every thrust until you’re trembling, sobbing, body overwhelmed and exquisitely full.

When the final round ends, Sunghoon pulling out with a wet, filthy sound, a fresh gush of cum following, your legs give out completely. You collapse forward onto Heeseung’s chest, shaking, panting, utterly spent.

Jay reaches into the center console and withdraws a small black velvet pouch. Inside are three plugs, smooth black silicone, flared bases, graduated sizes. Heeseung selects the largest, coats it generously in the creamy mess still leaking from you, then presses the blunt tip against your swollen entrance.

“Gonna keep every drop where it belongs,” he murmurs, voice soft now, almost reverent. He works the plug in slowly, watching your face the entire time, until it pops past the rim and settles deep, the weight immediate and grounding.

Jay takes the smaller one, slicks it with the same care, and presses it gently but firmly into your ass. The dual fullness is overwhelming, possessive, complete.

Sunghoon cleans between your thighs with a packet of wipes from the glovebox, slow, careful strokes that feel almost tender after everything. Then he helps you sit up, smoothing your dress back down over your hips, fingers combing gently through your tangled hair. The car falls quiet again. They surround you, Heeseung’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, Jay’s hand resting warm and steady on your thigh, Sunghoon’s fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm, Jake leaning over the seat to press close from the front. After a long stretch of silence, Jake speaks, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it. “We don’t want anyone else,” he says simply. “Not ever. Not like this.”

Jay nods once. “You’re not just something we fuck. You’re ours. Completely. For everything.”

Sunghoon’s fingertips brush the line of your jaw, tilting your face toward him. “We thought we could keep it light. Keep some distance. Pretend it didn’t matter.” He exhales, the sound almost pained. “We were wrong.”

Heeseung’s hold tightens, lips brushing your temple. “No one else touches you. No one else fills you. No one else gets to love you the way we do.” The word, love,lands soft and heavy, undeniable. You turn your face into the warm curve of Heeseung’s neck, feel the first tear slip free, not from pain, not from overwhelm, but from the sudden, terrifying certainty that this is exactly where you want to be.

“I don’t want anyone else either,” you whisper against his skin. They exhale as one, like they’ve been waiting weeks to hear it. Jake leans farther over the seat, presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “Good.” Jay draws you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin.

Sunghoon drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, still warm from his body, carrying his scent. Heeseung climbs over the console, settling in the driver’s seat, he glances up at you through the rear view mirror, starts the engine, and pulls out of the lot with careful precision. The drive home is quiet. The plugs shift inside you with every turn, constant, heavy reminders. Their hands stay on you, gentle now, grounding.

When you reach the apartment they carry you inside, Heeseung’s arms strong and sure, straight to the largest bed. They undress you slowly, silk peeled away, heels slipped off, every movement careful and deliberate. They clean you again, warm washcloths, soft touches that linger.

Then they slide into bed around you, skin on skin, bodies fitting together like they were made for it. Heeseung at your front, chest pressed to yours, one leg thrown possessively over your hip. Jay at your back, arm wrapped securely around your waist, lips brushing your shoulder. Sunghoon curled lower, head resting on your thigh, long fingers tracing soothing circles. Jake pressed to your side, fingers laced tightly with yours.

No words. Just the slow, even rhythm of their breathing syncing with yours. Until the plugs feel less like possession and more like quiet promise. Until sleep finally claims you, safe, full, irrevocably claimed. Your dreams aren’t about running. They’re about staying.

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