hello peopleeeee!!
i mainly read enha fics and marauders era-harry potter fics
i'm 21, indian, entp, and i really want to make some friends on here!!
you can talk to me about books (fiction and non-fiction) and cheesy movies for life!
𓊆박성훈 x fem reader𓊇 hold me, kiss me. whisper sweetly that you love me forever. hold me, kiss me. whisper sweetly that you love me forever. hold me, kiss me. whisper sweetly that you love me forever.
⤫ est 15k ⤫ ― based on the movie: obsession (2026), major spoiler alert: warnings, style, plot. gore, body horror, psychological horror, incel horror, cannibalistic themes, violence, self-harm, coercive control, drugs & alcohol use, smut, technically sex with a demon + TBA
⊹ 𐙚⋆˙˚ hehe... ♡♡ the story isn't completed yet, so in the mean time, feel free to give suggestions of what you would love to see in this story. i'm fine with gore, so go crazy...
Would you make smut about Seonghyeon, Keonho, Martin, and Juhoon once they turn 19?
no im not actively waiting for these boys to be legal. I’m an adult with an apartment and i pay taxes, tuition fees and mf toilet paper so no i don’t plan to write about these teenagers.
𓊆西村 力 x fem reader𓊇 and what will you do? now you're all alone. who's gonna keep you warm out there in the cold? and who's gonna rescue you when you're lost at sea? and who's gonna love you if it isn't me?
⤫ 4763 ⤫ ― stalking, youtube documentary style, obsessive behaviour, intrusion, home breaking, violence, murder + implication, reader has financial issues, feel free to imagine whoever as the stalker, but riki was in my mind!
⊹ 𐙚⋆˙˚ iyk i wrote goshiwon last year and was so in love with the concept of stalking, reader in a financial crisis, stalker's last straw, and youtube documentary style that i just had to rewrite it!
고시원 — a small prison cell
“is it recording? are you recording right now?”
“yeah—right about… now.”
the slightly shaky camera lens unblurred, sharpening and focusing on jiwoo’s bright smile. she stood in a narrow, fluorescent–lit hallway right at the entrance of a building. behind her, through the open broken glass door, the evening sunset painted everything in deep orange and fading purple.
the background was a cramped side street—rundown pork restaurant with flickering neon signs, a 24–hour convenience store glowing white and green, and tangled electrical wires crisscrossing overhead.
jiwoo waved both hands at the camera, her energy high despite the humid summer air.
“hi everyone, welcome back to seoul life! i’m your jiwoo, and today we’re checking out something a lot of you have been curious about—the goshiwon life. we usually check out luxury high-rises and trendy officetels, but not everyone is able to have the privilege. these super cheap, tiny rooms are staple for students and young workers in korea.”
the cameraman, hyunwoo, smiled behind the camera, nodding his head. as the frame widened, a few mice scattered across the alley floor near the overflowing trash bags, searching for food. he scrunched his nose in disgust.
the camera caught the stained walls, the flickering barber neon sign, and the general grime of the backstreet before panning back to jiwoo.
she chuckled awkwardly. “as you can see… while the location is convenient, the environment is, uh, very real.”
“anyway, if you’re a student or you’re just starting to work in the city, you’ll probably know how expensive renting can be. if it has a nice layout but it’s cheap—it’s most likely a scam! even a small studio in seoul can cost a fortune, and for a lot of people, finding a cheap place means making a compromise.”
the camera cuts to a wide shot of an older apartment complex—one they were about to enter. the concrete walls were aged and weathered from seasons, with large patches of paint chipped off. dark streaks of moisture and mold ran down from years of exposure.
rusty balcony railings lined the upper floors, and laundry hung outside several windows, fluttering weakly in the humid. the whole structure was screaming, tired, worn–down.
“we’re in yongsan, right outside one of the older goshiwon buildings. it’s about 7pm now, and this area is pretty typical—close to the subway, lots of cheap eats, but also… very compact.”
before stepping inside the small lobby area, jiwoo glanced around. an elderly man sat just outside of the kitchen area of the restaurant on a plastic chair, fanning himself with a folded newspaper. his shirt was unbuttoned halfway, exposing a large beer belly. a cigarette rested between his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the air.
he stared directly at the camera, hyunwoo, and jiwoo. his expression blank… almost, unpleasant.
his area, perhaps.
jiwoo smiled awkwardly and gave a small, polite nod. continuing,—she lowered her voice. “right… cheap rent comes with trade–offs. safety, maintenance, location… some complexes don’t even have a smart lock or cctv.”
hyunwoo panned the camera toward the entrance. a broken cctv camera hung crookedly from a wired pole, completely lifeless. next to the building sat discarded furnitues—an old, stained mattress leaning against the wall, reeked with piss and a broken chair missing two legs.
they moved further inside the dimly lit hallway. the lights above flickered and buzzed.
“today, we’re lucky enough to get to meet with someone who lives in one of these apartments! she reached out and offered to show what it’s really like living here. let’s meet her!”
the camera followed jiwoo as she walked a little deeper down the hallway. they climbed up three flights of stairs, before stopping in front of a room where the number had been censored with black box.
jiwoo turned to the camera and whispered with a small, excited smile, “we’re here!”
she raised her hand and knocked softly on the door.
there was a short pause, then after a few seconds, the door opened just a few inches, still secured by the metal chain lock. a young woman peeked through the gap.
“hi… seoul life team…?”
“yes! i’m jiwoo, and this is my cameraman, hyunwoo,” jiwoo said warmly. “yn, right—? thank you so much for reaching out and letting us film. we really appreciate it.”
you gave a small smile and finally unlatched the chain. the metal clinked loudly on the quiet floor as you opened the door fully.
“yes! i’m yn. please come in, come in.”
as the camera moved past the doorway, the first thing viewers saw was—
everything. the whole... room.
you're instantly met with the bathroom—barely enough space for one, with a toilet, sink, and shower head and no divider or a heater.
hyunwoo and jiwoo stepped further inside, panning the camera slowly to capture the full layout. just one single, small room that served everything.
your single bed was pushed against the far wall, decorated with a few cute plushies. in front of the bed stood a wooden drawer with a small tv, no bigger than a monitor, on top. next to it, facing the side of the wall was your study table with a chair tucked underneath, some clutter on the surface, and a small stand fan.
above the desk, a shelf packed with notebooks and studying materials. you had a lot of books, stacked everywhere where there was space. on top of the bed headboard, there’s a small window.
there was no couch. no dining table. no kitchen. no other chairs but your study chair. just your essentials, neatly arranged despite the situation you were put in. despite how minimal and super claustrophobic everything was, your room was clean. a sweet, fresh scent lingered in the air thanks to the automatic air freshener dispenser that puffed every few minutes.
the camera zoomed in gently on the way your toes overlapped one another nervously, then slowly tilted upward to your face.
you were smiling, but it was shy and embarrassed, cheeks flushed. you rubbed your arm and looked down for a second.
“i’m so sorry… it’s, um… it’s small,” you said quietly, voice soft with shame. “i tried to organise it as best as i could so it wouldn’t look too bad on camera, but… yeah. this is it.”
jiwoo’s eyes widened and immediately shook her head, waving her hands in front of her. “no no, don’t apologise! this is actually so cute and homey, yn! the plushes and everything—the way you arranged it is so cute.”
you let out a small laugh, still clearly embarrassed. “thank you! i keep telling myself it’s only been for a while. the rent is cheap, and i can walk to my classes. but oh—! please, please have a seat, you guys.”
you quickly moved around the tiny space, pulling out three seating pillows. you placed two in front of the bed for jiwoo and you, then set one near the study chair area for hyunwoo. in the middle of it all, you laid down a desk cushion, just wide enough to hold two teacups.
with three people, there was barely room to breathe.
“there… it’s not much, but it’s better than standing,” you said softly. you looked a little self–conscious about everything, but you tried your best to be a good host.
hyunwoo muttered a soft thank you as he took a seat, setting up his mini tripod to hold the camera.
“thank you, this is perfect,” jiwoo said, getting comfortable on the pillow. she exchanged a quick nod and a smile to hyunwoo. “the place is really neat—and it smells so good too. what’s this scent?”
you smiled shyly, tucking your knees beneath your weight. “it’s just jasmine. there’s a pork restaurant not far from this building, so sometimes the smell comes in really strong if i leave my window open for too long. gotta be careful with that… it sticks.”
jiwoo let out a light laugh. “i can imagine. smells are one of those things you can’t really get rid of fully once it’s stuck to your room.”
she turned to hyunwoo. “woo, are we all set?”
hyunwoo gave a thumbs–up. “rolling.”
the interviewer turned back to you with an encouraging smile. “great! then yn, could you introduce yourself first? just whatever you’re comfortable with. your age, major, how long you’ve been here, anything like that.”
you sat up a little straighter, hands resting on your lap. even though your cheeks were still faintly red with embarrassment, you tried to speak clearly. clearing your throat, you began. “hi, everyone. i’m yn. i’m a student at seoul national university, majoring in social science and humanities, and i’ve been living here for about… a year now?”
your eyes drifted upward at the ceiling as you thought, then gave a small nod.
“yeah, almost a year now. it’s my first time living away from home, so it’s really hard to adjust.”
jiwoo smiled, nodding. “a whole year… that’s impressive. adjusting to being a student and living alone life must’ve been a big change. what was the hardest part at the beginning?”
you pursed your lips, then glanced around your tiny room for a moment.
“honestly, everything was hard,” you admitted, nodding. “i’m really close with my family, so leaving them was the biggest shock. i have one younger brother and sister, and i was the one who takes care of them while our parents handle the restaurant. i’m a little worried if they’re okay…”
you paused, fiddling with your fingers.
“then moving in was also tough. everything i owned barely fit in this room, and i kept bumping into things. the walls are really thin, so you can hear almost everything. i’ve gotten better at ignoring it so now i just try to keep my space clean and organised so it feels more like home. like me.”
the air freshener puffed again.
jiwoo hummed in acknowledgement. “ah, i see… i think i’ve said it so many times but your room is really cute, yn. then… do you mind telling us how—and why—you ended up choosing this place?”
“the biggest reason was the rent,” you answered honestly. to be fair, there really was no reason to live in such a place in the first place. it stinked, dangerous, shady, weird—and when it rained, it leaked.
“as a student, i have to be really particular with money. this place is cheap, and it’s close to the subway line i need for uni. i spend most of my allowance on books and study materials, so i can’t afford anything more expensive right now.”
the camera panned toward your shelf and the stack of books beside your desk.
“and… secretly, i also send some of my scholarship money to my younger siblings. our parents are working hard, but i still want to help them a little.”
both crews’ expressions softened. “oh… that’s really sweet of you, yn. you’re juggling a lot. can we know how much you pay for the rent here?”
you gave a small nod.
"about... 250,000 won? it used to be cheaper, but you know."
"aah, got it... inflations suck." jiwoo leaned forward a bit on the cushion. “then, to balance it out, what would you say is a really good thing and a bad thing about living here?”
you thought for a second, lips pursing, head tilting.
“hmm… a good thing is that when it’s small, it feels… comforting in a way?” you said, glancing around your room. “like, everything is right here in my view. my bed, my books, my desk, my stuff… when i come back after a long day, it’s like this little space of mine is waiting for me.”
hyunwoo smiled, zooming in on the critters and trinkets around your room that perfectly resembled you.
you paused, then smiled again. “but the bad parts… there are quite a few.”
“oh?” jiwoo perked up, lowering the teacup from her lips.
you hesitated for a moment. “the smell is one thing—especially when the restaurant down there is cooking. and the neighbours… the walls are so thin you can hear people do everything.” you shrug, “but what makes it really bad is the lack of safety.”
“like what?”
you shifted on the bed, looking a little more uncomfortable now.
“uh… as you can see, there’s no security guard and police rarely patrol this area. the cctvs don’t work either, so yeah,” you replied, almost indifferent. “the people around here too… mm, it’s kind of just… you look out for yourself here,”
a beat.
hyunwoo looked around only to realise how flimsy the lock on your door was. the chains were barely hanging on. he didn’t record that.
“have you ever had any issues with looking after yourself?”
smiling, you nod with almost no hesitation. “yup. all the time.”
jiwoo frowned. behind the camera, hyunwoo stiffened slightly. there’s a pause long enough for the weight of your words to settle in the small room.
you notice the shift in the atmosphere—the way they are momentarily caught off guard and the way their postures are a little stiffer. you quickly wave your hands, laughing a little—not wanting the awkward moment to stretch too long.
“ah—! i don’t mean anything serious!” you said quickly, expression lighthearted like it was just a normal mention. the contrast between your casual demeanour and the topic makes the air feel heavy. “i mean, you know, things happen—but it’s fine!”
neither of them looked convinced. jiwoo and hyunwoo looked at each other for a split second. then, she turned back to you, trying to match your casual tone even though her eyes showed confusion.
“things… like what?” she asked, tilting her head with a small smile that was barely there.
“hmm,” you hummed, tilting your head slightly. “you know how nothing good in life comes as it is?”
jiwoo and hyunwoo nodded, listening attentively.
you continued with the same light tone. “well, the downside of it is—i think stalking is quite common in the area.”
a heavy silence filled the tiny room.
jiwoo’s smile faltered for a second. she blinked, clearly caught off guard. she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. behind the camera, hyunwoo shifted his weight, grip tightening slightly on the tripod.
you noticed their reactions and instantly tried to ease the tension by chuckling.
“...stalking?”
you nodded again. “mmhm, but it’s not really a big deal now.”
jiwoo felt her lungs heavy in something indescribable. “yn… that sounds really scary. can you tell us what happened? if you have ever experienced anything like that yourself?”
you nodded. “of course. sure… i think it was maybe a month or two after i moved in? one day i came back from class and noticed my door lock was broken, and so was my window lock. but nothing was missing, so i thought maybe it was just old and worn out.”
they nodded, very slightly.
“i changed both locks the next day. but… it happened again. the new lock was tampered with. i told the landlord, but he said nothing was stolen so i shouldn’t worry too much. he told me i was probably paranoid since i’ve never been far from my family.”
“but of course, when you’re all by yourself in the city, it kinda gets to you, you know? the creeps.”
the air in the tiny room felt thicker. jiwoo frowned another worried expression.
“but still, i filed a police report anyway—but just like what my landlord said, since nothing was missing and there were no signs of entry, there was nothing the police could do. and i think i’ve changed the locks like, almost twenty times? to a point where i was spending more on fixing locks and changing keys.” you let out a small laugh.
hyunwoo glanced at your window—the handle missing. your window couldn’t even be shut properly.
“...and then?”
“and then my items finally went missing.”
you rested your chin on your knees, voice calm but distant. “at first i didn’t really notice it. just small things like a hair tie or my comb—stuff i could rebuy. but then, it was my perfume, faculty uniform, notebooks, toothbrush… yeah.”
the room went completely silent.
hyunwoo, who had been silent since the interview began, spoke up for the first time. “toothbrush?”
you nodded, hugging your knees a little tighter. the way you just smiled about it made hyunwoo shiver.
“yeah. one morning i woke up and it was gone. i thought maybe i misplaced it, but i know i didn’t. it really creeped me out but i just bought a new one—then that one disappeared too.” you chucked, cheeks warming like it was an embarrassing occurrence.
“i think that’s when i truly, truly realised—oh, someone’s coming in. someone really came into my room.”
hyunwoo’s lips part slightly, as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates. he figured he’d let you explain first.
but then jiwoo interfered. “that’s violating. why didn’t you move out?”
you stayed quiet for a few seconds, fingers tracing the pad of your knees. the air freshener puffed again, but the sweet scent did nothing to musk the heaviness in the room.
“where else could i find a place this cheap…” you finally muttered, admitting. you gestured vaguely around the cramped space as if it should’ve been obvious. “with my situation, this is pretty much the only option i have now.”
hyunwoo panned the camera to the small monitor, the little wind chime hanging on the window, your study table where certificates were pinned above, and a colourful stickman family of five drawing from your little sister.
everything was in its exact place.
“oh…”
you smiled. “and to be very honest, after almost a year… i don’t think what he’s doing is that bad. he doesn’t do anything, doesn’t take anything important… just the little things.”
jiwoo frowned deeper, but it was hyunwoo who said something about it. “he?”
you blinked, as if only now realising what you’d just said. but instead of correcting yourself, you just nodded. “yeah, the stalker is a he. i knew it when he left his hoodie, cap, and watch when i woke up.”
the interviewer’s expression tightened, her fingers curling slightly against her knees.
“so he comes inside while you were sleeping?”
you nodded, humming. “i guess so. cause sometimes i wake up and there’s breakfast on my study table—and the clothes have been ironed. he does my laundry sometimes too. this building doesn’t have a washing machine or a dryer, so it’s a hassle to carry my basket outside.” you continued.
“he bought flowers and stuff too.”
the way you talk about it—so mundane like it’s a small perk.
“just like that?” jiwoo didn’t even realise she was leaning towards you.
“i mean, i don’t really have a choice?” you chuckled, like it’s silly to think otherwise. “when i went to the police again, they only advised me to put up a camera inside my room but at that moment i was super broke, so there was nothing i could do.” you shrugged, although feeling a bit ashamed of your current life.
“and besids… he’s doing me these favours and it kinda helps me save money too…”
jiwoo’s eyes widened and she almost grabbed your hands to knock some sense into you. that this wasn’t normal, and you were forced to accept it because of the circumstances you were put in.
instead, she kept her voice as steady as possible.
“have you ever seen him?”
you shook your head, pursing your lips. “nope, never. but i was close to it once…”
your fingers drummed on your knees.
“one night i couldn’t sleep and i felt someone get on the bed behind me. it was really scary ‘cause it was the first time i was aware and awake of his presence. he laid down… really close. when i tired to turn around to look, he just…” you paused. “...cupped his hand over my eyes. he whispered ‘go back to sleep’ and stayed there until i eventually did.”
the silence that followed was suffocating.
jiwoo’s face had gone pale. hyunwoo couldn’t stop staring at you.
“what—? and nobody knows.”
“the police does…”
“no, i meant… who else, yn?”
“nobody else.”
she frowned, swallowing the lump in her throat. “yn, look—if you ever need help, we can help you. we can file a report together and maybe even bring this situation to the media—”
“no, no,” you quickly cut her off, pulling your hands back and waving them. “everyone will see. my parents… my siblings might see it. it’ll worry them so much.”
hyunwoo frowned, he shifted closer. “yn, this isn’t okay. just because nothing happened now doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way forever. we can help y—”
you took a small breath, trying to steady yourself.
“thank you but i’m fine, really,” you pursed your lips, tilting your head slightly. “sometimes… when you are put in a situation where there’s not much to be done… you kinda just have to accept and see the brighter side of it, you know?”
you rubbed the back of your neck, voice soft. your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at how pathetic your life was.
“like for me, as long as i’m alive—and my family’s doing well, and the laundry’s warm and fresh, and i have food on my table… i think i’m doing fine. i’ll think about your offer but for now,”
your smile falters just a little—just for a second—but you quickly recover. “i think it’ll be fine.”
the silence stretched just enough before the video faded to black.
——
this was the behind the scenes footage of a video we were supposed to post.
while editing this episode a few weeks after it was recorded, we were informed that yn ln was found dead in her apartment—the same one featured in this video.
according to the police, her body was discovered in the bathroom almost two weeks after the estimated time of death. the scholarship officer had been receiving calls about her absence, and a neighbour had reported an odor coming from her room.
cold folded laundry was placed on her bed, and breakfast was left untouched on her study table. although by then, it had rotted and the stench overpowering the scent of her air freshener.
the case has been classified as murder, with signs of break–in and violation were found. despite her multiple previous police reports detailing repeated break-ins, missing items, and stalking, no arrests have ever been made.
with no working cctv footage and no strong leads, the case remains under investigation for now.
stalking is NOT a joke. if you or someone you know is experiencing similar situations, please seek help and take necessary precautions. no one should have to ‘accept’ living in fear.
act now—speak up before silence becomes your only voice.
to respect and commemorate yn and her family, the original full video will not be posted.
only the clip where she talked about the stalking incidents will be released, in hopes of shedding light on the ignorance and dismissive attitude victims often face from authorities.
seoul life is currently supporting yn’s family restaurant business and her siblings’ education, just as she had been doing.
——
“...thank you so much,” you said politely, bowing slightly as the older handyman finished installing the new lock.
he wiped his hands on his rag and looked at you with a furrowed brow. “...kid, are you okay? this is the fourth time you’ve changed locks this week.”
after the interview and visit from jiwoo and hyunwoo, you’d finally realise just how carefree and light you’d taken the stalking situation to be.
just because nothing happened now doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way forever.
you forced a bright smile, nodding quickly.
“yes, yes, i’m fine! i’m currently looking for other places to rent but i keep losing my keys. sorry for the trouble.”
you quickly slipped inside and closed the door shut before he could say anything else. the sound echoed down the hallway.
the handyman stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door and your chipped room number. he shook his head, slowly, clearly not convinced.
“...do let me know if you need anything else,” he muttered, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him anymore.
——
that same night, it was past 3 in the morning when you heard it.
you were still studying and the rest of the apartment was dark except for the faint glow of the study lamp.
the doorknob started shaking.
at first it was subtle—like a rattle. but it quickly grew stronger, more aggressive when he realised it wasn’t opening. your heart slammed against your ribs.
“oh my gosh…” you whispered, dropping your head low.
you tried to ignore it. told yourself he’ll… he’ll go away.
but the shaking only got worse.
finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.
with shaky legs, you grabbed the pair of scissors from your drawer, and stood by the doorstep, holding them tightly with both hands. your breathing was fast and shallow.
the rattling continued until—crack.
the lock mechanism broke, and the door slowly pushed open.
and for the first time, you saw his face.
the man who had been coming in and out of your room for a whole year.
he stood in the doorway, eyes meeting yours. both of your eyes widened in shock—only yours in pure terror but his…
his expression barely changed. if anything, the corner of his lips twitched upward into something eerily soft.
he looked almost relieved.
“...hey,” he said quietly.
your stalker stepped inside like it was the most natural thing—taking off his shoes and setting them neatly by the entrance.
“i’ve forgotten how to pick locks after a year,” he added with a small, almost apologetic smile.
he reached behind him and tried to close the door, but the lock wouldn’t latch onto the hinge—it just hung awkwardly, not shutting properly.
your hands trembled around the scissors as you backed up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. “who are you…?” your voice cracked. “who are you?”
he tilted his head slightly, looking at you with a soft gaze.
“you know me,” he said gently. “anyway, why’d you decide to change the lock again? it’s such a hassle for both of us.”
your breath hitched, fear and realisation finally hitting you. you couldn’t believe that you were coming in contact with the same man who’d been trespassing and stalking you for a year—and to think you were coming to an acceptance to it was so—
“get out,” you whispered shakily. then louder, “get out!”
“don’t be like that,” he frowned, taking another step closer. you were okay before this, so what changed?
“...it’s because of that fuckass channel, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, sighing. your stalker ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “they’re saying bullshit, baby, i’ll never hurt y—”
terror overtook you.
“get the fuck out!” you screamed. “get out!”
when your stalker only kept closing the distance, you panicked. you scrambled onto the bed behind you, still holding the scissors, and desperately pushed the small window open, trying to climb out.
the winter air hit your face—
but a strong hand suddenly wrapped around your ankle and yanked you back hard.
you almost hit your chin on the window pane.
“ah—!” you gasped as your body slammed against the cheap mattress. he pulled you away from the window, his grip firm enough to hold you down.
“why are you trying to run away from me?” he murmured, one knee pressing onto the mattress as he tried to get on top of you. “i always take care of you, don’t i?”
pure panic surged through you.
survival instinct kicking in, you kicked him hard with your other leg. your foot against his chest, sending him stumbling backward. he crashed into your study table, knocking over the stacks of books and notebooks.
they scattered across the floor.
you scrambled off the bed instantly and bolted for the door, heart pounding in your throat. but before you could reach it—just before your fingertips could touch the knob—, your stalker got up fast. he grabbed your arm, yanked you back violently—
and shoved you into the narrow bathroom. you stumbled and hit the toilet, landing your ass hard on the closed lid as the automatic light flickered on above you.
the cramped bathroom had never felt so fucking small with both of you inside.
can u write something about being a piss dump for ceo jay or sunghoon!! innocent reader who's desperate for cash signs up to be his assistant when in reality she spends most of her time under his table drooling on his cock 🤤🤤
a/n. Uh…. Might expand more of that last part… like… being Jay’s piss faucet 🤤
ceojay! Who's not what you expected when you showed up at his intimidating office after seeing the listing online. He's taller than you expected, more handsome and closer to you in age. Maybe in his late 20s? Early 30s?
ceojay! Who doesn't seem to know what a normal office helper does. You don't help with paperwork, you don't make phone calls, don't read emails. Your only job is to stay under his desk, tight little throat warming up his cock, and pussy ready to welcome warm streams of piss.
ceojay! Who’s definitely as strict as you expected him to be.
"Stay still." Jay rasps from above you, his voice slightly muffled by the desk hiding you from view. Your cheeks are wet with tears, Jay’s cock nestled deep inside your throat, mushroom tip leaking salty precum.
ceojay! Who introduces you to becoming his pretty little piss dump a month after your throat becomes his property. He tells you to get under his desk, face down ass up, and push his thick cock inside.
“There you go…” He drawls, hot stream of piss leaking from his swollen tip, directly into your awaiting cunt. The sensation is foreign, but not unpleasant, your warm cunny slowly expanding to accommodate the warm liquid. You clench weakly around his tip, eager for more of him inside.
ceojay! Who has no regard whatsoever for your pleasure. You’re his property and he'll use your body as he sees fit. It doesn't matter if you've been on the edge for hours or crying for overstimulation, cunt squirting pathetically after so much pleasure. All that matters to him is for you to provide a warm place for his cock, cum and piss.
ceojay! Who starts asking for your help even on your day off. He promises enough money as compensation for over time that you immediately agree, taking yourself to his penthouse like he asked.
ceojay! Who fucks and fills your ass so hard and deep that night that you're still full in the morning. He makes sure he's there to empty you, teasing your gaped asshole with the plug he forced in last night, before slowly pulling out. He marvels in watching the stream of piss escaping your hole, making a mess of his pristine bathroom floor.
ceojay! Who after that night starts developing a taste for making sure you're always full of him. Cum or piss, he doesn't care as long as both your holes are full and plugged.
ceojay! Who likes palming your full bladder when you've been really good. He loves the feeling of your bloated lower belly, something he aches to achieve with his own piss inside you.
“You’re so fucking full…” Jay murmurs, his hand on your bloated belly, caressing the taunt skin. You squirm in his lap, the softest touches making you want to let go right on him. “J-jay please” You whine softly, his hands moving with more pressure now, really testing just how full your bladder is. You can feel him smirk against your neck, his right hand trailing down to your cunt to play with your swollen clit. The action makes you whine, a small trickle of piss leaking from you. Jay hums approvingly, left hand pressing down on your bladder, silently encouraging you to pee yourself. You can only oblige, hot piss already soaking his fingers and seeping into his pants. You quickly make a mess of his laps but if anything, Jay is beyond turned on behind you. His cock is hard as rock, nestled between your ass and the feeling of your warmth on him could make him cum in his pants right here and there.
ceojay! Who always licks his fingers clean of your piss every time he plays with you, always marveling at the sharp, almost sweet taste you seem to have. And every time he does so, he only craves more.
IN WHICH ─── Heeseung teaches you everything that your cheating boyfriend couldn’t. He’s been waiting for the day you would realize that he could do better and much more than his best friend.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : smut (MDNI), porn with a bit of plot
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : switch!heeseung, switch!reader, mention of alcohol, smoking, swearing, cheating, manhandling, heeseung is a gentleman despite his attitude, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, praising, light degradation, oral sex (f. receiving), light edging, orgasm denial, use of nickname : baby, my pretty girl
𝐰𝐜 : 7.9k {7.977}
❕# pheeew I speed run that shii. I goon to the pic on top every night—WHO TFFFFF SAID THAAAT????? Guys I need this man to put me in my place like RIGHT NOW. This song represents him so well. Ugh he’s mister dadaman fr
INSPIRED BY : What You Need - The Weeknd
(+ Slow It Down - Ty Dolla $ign)
What could be worse than going to the restaurant with your boyfriend a week after you found out that he’s been cheating on you? Oh right, you don’t know. Ethan orders for himself without asking what you're having first, catches himself halfway through, and asks you anyway. You already know what you want because you always know what you want here.
His phone sits face up next to his water glass. It lights up twice in the first ten minutes. Both times he glances down, thumb hovering, before setting it back exactly where it was. "Sorry," he says, not looking up from the screen the third time. "Work thing."
You nod like that made sense. You've heard about Heeseung's terrible taste in restaurants, about his coworker’s dog, about traffic on the way here ; three separate stories he's started and abandoned mid-sentence because his attention keeps sliding sideways toward that phone.
"You could put it away," you say, tired enough that it comes out flat.
"I know. I will." He actually doesn't.
The waiter brings your food and Ethan eats fast, he’s already somewhere else in his mind. You ask about his sister's move to Daegu and get half an answer before his phone buzzes again and he actually picks it up this time, thumb moving across the screen, brow furrowed like the message requires real concentration.
You watch him read it. You watch his jaw do a small tightening, and you already know before he opens his mouth. "I have to go in," he says. "They need someone to cover a shift. I'm really sorry, I know we just got here."
Work doesn't call people in at 9:47 at night for office emergencies. You've known things like this for months now, small inconsistencies that don't line up if you actually stack them next to each other, which is why you stopped stacking them.
"Now?" you ask anyway, knowing how it will end up.
"I wouldn't if I didn't have to." He's already reaching for his wallet, already half out of his seat. "I'll make it up to you. Promise."
You tell him it's fine and to go, that you'll finish eating and head home. He kisses the top of your head, distracted, already checking his phone again as he walks toward the door, and you sit there with a plate you've lost interest in and a boyfriend-shaped absence across the table.
Your phone buzzes. Heeseung.
Heeseung [9:54 PM]
you good?
saw ethan's location just switched to "downtown" lol at 9pm
You stare at the message for a second too long before you type back.
Y/N [9:54 PM]
he had a work thing apparently
Heeseung [9:55 PM]
mhm. sure he did
You almost put the phone down.
Y/N [9:55 PM]
please don’t start
Heeseung [9:57 PM]
wasn't gonna say anything. i'm very good at not saying things
Y/N [9:57 PM]
you're the worst at not saying things btw
Heeseung [9:58 PM]
rude.
i've been holding back SO much tonight and this is the thanks i get
You find yourself smiling at your phone, alone at a table for two, food going cold in front of you. Even though you couldn’t care less.
The waiter comes by to clear Ethan's plate and asks if you need anything else, and you're halfway through saying no when your phone buzzes again.
Heeseung [10:05 PM]
where are you?
sending someone to get you before you sit there being sad and pathetic
Y/N [10:05 PM]
wdym I’m not sad and pathetic
Heeseung [10:06 PM]
you're eating alone at a restaurant your boyfriend just ditched. what else could it be?
address please.
You give him the name of the place mostly because arguing about whether you're pathetic or not would take more energy than you have left right now. Fifteen minutes later Heeseung walks in wearing a jacket you’ve seen plenty of times, scanning the room until he finds you, and drops into the seat across from you like he's been there the whole time.
"You didn't have to come, you know." you state.
"I know that very well. I wanted to see you sad and pathetic in person." He picks up the menu even though you're clearly done eating, flips through it without really looking. "Also I was bored."
"Comforting."
"I try." He waves the waiter over before you can stop him, orders a drink for himself, and when the bill comes a few minutes later he reaches over and takes it before you can even move your hand toward it.
"Heeseung."
"Yeah?"
"Give me that."
"No." He's already pulling out his card, not even glancing at the total.
"I can pay for my own food."
"Never said you couldn't." He hands the card to the waiter without looking at you, and something about how easy it is for him : he acts like it costs him nothing and like it’s something he has to do but does it naturally. The inside of your stomach is tingling and obviously not because of the food you had earlier.
"I'm being serious, I don't need you to—"
"I know you don't need me to." He lifts his gaze and looks at you with less joking in it than a second ago. "I want to. Learn how it’s not the same."
"That's not the point."
"What's the point, then?"
You freezes, not an answer or a talk back could reach your mind, and he grins like he's won something.
"Aw, look at that," he says. "I missed that face."
"I fucking hate you."
"You don't. You're just annoyed you can't win an argument about who gets to pay for your dinner, which, by the way, is a very weird thing to be stubborn about."
"It's called having self-respect."
"It's called being difficult for no reason, but sure, we can call it self-respect if that makes you feel better." The card comes back and he signs without checking the receipt, tucks it away, and stands up casually. "Come on. I'm parked badly and I will get towed."
"You fucking asshole."
"You keep saying that like it's news." He holds his hand out, not really an offer so much as an assumption you'll take it, and you do.
He gets in to start the car, and has a cigarette lit before you've even got your seatbelt on. The window cracks an inch, cold air cutting through the smoke smell that's already filling the small space.
"You know those are terrible for you," you say.
"Groundbreaking information. Thank you." He takes a drag, one hand on the wheel, not pulling out of the spot yet.
"I'm dead serious. You should stop."
"I should do a lot of things." He glances at you sideways, smoke curling out the window. "You should stop pretending you don't know your boyfriend's cheating on you. We're both just walking around not doing things we should, I guess."
The car goes quiet except for the engine idling. You look straight ahead at the brick wall of the restaurant, at nothing. "I don't know what you're talking about," you say in a breathy tone.
"Sure you don't." He's not looking at you now either, tapping ash out the window, voice even, done pretending along with you. "His location switches off every other night. He checks his phone at dinner like it's gonna bite him if he doesn't. Tonight he left you at a restaurant for a 'work thing' that doesn't exist, and you didn't even ask him to explain it properly. You just let him go."
"That's not—" You stop and start again. "It's complicated."
"It's really not." He finally pulls out of the spot, one hand on the wheel, cigarette still between two fingers. "You don't want to deal with it. Which, fine, your business. But don't sit there and tell me you don't know, because I’m aware for the phone thing tonight too, and you didn't look surprised. You looked like someone who's done the math already."
There isn't a version of an answer that isn't just agreeing with him. So silence is the best option you could have at this moment.
"I'm not trying to make it worse, okay?" he says, softer, some of the edge gone out of his voice. "I just don't really feel like watching you sit through dinners like that and pretend it's normal."
"Why do you even care?"
He takes another drag and lets it out slow.
"Good question," he says finally without elaborating further, yet you don’t want to know more of it, because you're not sure you want to hear the answer any more than he seems to want to give it.
He drives you around the city for a while then turns left instead of right at the light that would've led back toward your apartment. The road opens up eventually, streetlights getting sparser, and then there's the smell of salt before you see the water. He parks in a mostly empty lot facing the beach, cuts the engine, and the quiet that follows feels different from the quiet in the restaurant parking lot. It’s less loaded.
"Why are we here?" you ask.
"I needed air that doesn't smell like your ex's cologne." He's already pulling his jacket off, tossing it into the back seat. Underneath he's just in a black tank top, and it's warm enough out that it makes sense, summer nights here never really cooling off the way you'd expect. "Also I like it here. Don't make it a big deal."
"He's not my ex."
"Give it time." He says it lightly, already opening his door, not wanting to hear you argue back. "Come."
You get out as sitting in the car alone would feel worse than following him. The sand is cool yet the air isn't, and he walks ahead of you toward the water without checking if you're behind him, hands in his pockets and shoulders loose.
"You could've warned me we were going to the beach," you say, catching up. "I'm in the wrong shoes for this."
"You're in shoes. That's more preparation than I did."
"You're wearing actual sneakers."
"Correct. Preparation." He glances back at you, the corner of his mouth pulling up. "Take them off if you're gonna complain the whole time."
"I'm not complaining, it was just a statement."
"Same thing, coming from you."
You shove his shoulder, and he barely moves as he laughs, low and light, as your annoyance is the most entertaining thing that's happened to him all week. The water's dark ahead of you, waves you can hear more than see, you can feel the knot in your belly loosening up.
"So this is the fresh air you talked about," you say, kicking your heels off like he told you to, sand cold between your toes. "Very noble of you, considering your lungs are probably black at this point."
"They're totally fine."
"You just smoked an entire cigarette in a closed car ten minutes ago."
"The window was cracked."
"Barely an inch."
He stops walking. He turns to look at you, and there's a specific kind of offense on his face, you can see that’s it’s fake. "Okay, you don't get to smoke-shame me and then act like you weren't the one who wanted to eat a hundred tons of sugar last week."
"That has nothing to do with your lungs."
"It's about hypocrisy, Y/N." He's already crossing his arms, which should've been your first warning. "You wanna talk about people ruining their bodies, we can talk about those candies."
"That's not remotely the same thing, and you know it."
"I don't know anything. I'm just a guy with fucked up lungs, apparently, standing here, getting attacked—"
"I didn't attack you, I made a freaking statement—"
"—run," he says, it's not really a warning and it's already happening, he's moving toward you before the word's even fully out. You don't think and you just run, already laughing three steps away, sand slowing you down and you probably look embarrassing and isn't because he's not much faster, both of you stumbling across the beach. He's close behind you, close enough that you can hear him laughing too, breathless, yet you don't look back and just keep going toward nothing in particular, the water loud beside you and your own heartbeat louder, making you forget why you were sad in the first place.
"Slow down!" you yell back at him, though you're the one speeding up. "Your lungs can't take this!"
"They're taking it fine, actually—" He's gaining on you, voice rougher now from the running, the laughing, both. "Better than yours, probably, all that complaining you do about stairs—"
"I don't even complain about stairs—"
"You complained about stairs yesterday. To my face."
"That building has no elevator, that's a legitimate—" You don't get to finish, because his hand catches your arm, hard enough to throw your balance off, and you're laughing too much to fight it anyway.
"Got you—"
"You didn't—"
He did. Your feet tangle in the sand and his do too trying to compensate, and there's a second where it could've gone fine, where you both could've just stopped, but now you're both going down, and he twists at the last second so he hits the sand first and you land half on top of him, knocking whatever air he had left in those apparently terrible lungs straight out of him.
"Okay," he wheezes, staring up at the sky, chest moving fast under you. "Okay, that one's on me."
You're still laughing, you can't stop, face pressed near his shoulder, sand in your hair, in your clothes, everywhere. "You caught me on purpose."
"I caught you very badly on purpose."
"Your lungs are so fucked."
"Please stop talking about my lungs." He's laughing too, you can feel it more than hear it, his chest shaking under where you're braced against him, and neither of you moves to get up right away, and it takes a second before either of you remembers there's a reason you're supposed to pull away from this.
"Great," you say, still not moving off him. "Now I'm covered in sand. This was a bad idea."
"It was my favorite plan I've had all week."
"You've had bad judgment all week, then." You finally push yourself up, brushing sand off your arms, off your legs, a losing battle. He sits up slower, still catching his breath, watching you try to fix your hair with zero success.
"I'm also thirsty," you add.
"There's water in the car."
"Warm water in a car that smells like cigarettes doesn't count."
He stands, holds a hand out to pull you up, and doesn't let go right away once you're on your feet. He looks at you for a second, he seems like he's deciding something. "Come to mine. Shower, water, whatever you need. It’s better than dropping you off covered in sand at eleven at night."
"Heeseung, I don't need—"
"You keep saying that word like it changes anything about what I'm gonna do anyway." He's already walking back toward the car, keys spinning once around his finger. "Come on."
His apartment turns out to be nothing like you expected, which annoys you a little, because you'd built some idea of his place in your head ; messy, small ; and instead the elevator opens straight into something enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the city, furniture that looks like it costs a hundred racks, which does.
"This is insane," you say, standing in the doorway, still not fully inside. "You live here? Alone?"
"Don't sound so betrayed about it."
"I pictured you in, like, a studio apartment with a mattress on the floor."
"Wow. Thank you for that image of me." He drops his keys on the counter, shrugging like the apartment doesn't warrant comment. "Bathroom's down the hall, second door. There's towels in there. I'll find you something to change into that isn't full of sand."
You still haven't moved from the doorway, taking in the size of it, the quietness of a place too clean to belong to someone who bickers the way he does. "How do you even afford this?"
"Very boring answer. Ask me another time." He's already disappearing down the hall, calling back over his shoulder. "Towels. Bathroom. Go before you track sand into my very expensive rug."
You linger by the counter instead of heading for the bathroom yet, arms crossed, sand still clinging to your ankles. "Okay, but—when am I getting home tonight? I have work in the morning."
He reappears from the hallway with a folded shirt and shorts in hand, tossing them onto the couch for you. "Never. You live here now. I've decided."
"Heeseung."
"It's already, what, eleven thirty? You're covered in sand, your options are a shower here or a shower at home in forty-five minutes of traffic smelling like a beach." He shrugs, entirely too pleased with his own logic. "I'll drive you back whenever. Or you sleep on the world's most comfortable couch and I take you home before work. Very generous offer, considering my lungs are apparently on their way out."
"That's not what I asked."
"Yeah, and I answered better questions in my life." He nods toward the hallway, unbothered. "Go shower. I'm not driving anywhere until you stop smelling like low tide."
You get out of the shower first, dressed in the shirt and shorts he left you, both too big, sleeves falling past your hands. When you find him in the kitchen he's just in sweatpants, no shirt, hair still wet, and you stop in the doorway far too long before catching yourself.
"What?" he says, not even looking up from the glass of water he's pouring.
"Nothing. Put a shirt on, it's weird."
"It's my apartment, and it's hot. I'm not putting a shirt on for you." He slides the glass across the counter toward you, finally glancing over, and whatever's on your face makes something shift in his. "Are you flustered right now?"
"No."
"You're a little flustered."
"I'm annoyed." You grab the glass just to have something to do with your hands, and drink half of it too fast. "Some warning would've been nice."
"A warning for what, my own kitchen?"
"For the— " you point directly at him, at the general fact of him, "—situation."
"There's no situation. This is just what I look like." A shit eating grin appears on his face, fully enjoying this, leaning against the counter. "You can look away if it's that distressing."
"I'm not even looking."
"You're looking right now."
"I'm looking at you to argue with you, and you look so dumb right now."
"Sure it is." He pushes off the counter, grabs a pack of cigarettes off the counter, and heads for the balcony door without the will to talk back. You follow, mostly out of spite, and the air outside is warm, the city spread out below, making the apartment's size make a little more sense. He lights up, leaning on the railing, and you stand a few feet away, arms crossed against a chill that isn't really there.
The smoke drifts toward you on the next breath of wind and you cough slightly, covering the lower half of you face with your hand.
His eyes stay on the city while a silent chuckle almost escapes him. He shifts slowly, moving to stand on your left instead, angling himself so the smoke pulls away from you and out over the railing. A quietness installs itself between you.
He flicks ash over the railing, and glances at you. "You want a drink or something? I've got wine, I think there's soju somewhere too."
"Wine would be good."
He disappears inside for a minute, comes back with two glasses and the bottle tucked under his arm, he sets everything down on the small table between the balcony chairs. You sit, and he drops into the chair across from you, pouring without measuring, more in yours than his.
"How did we even meet?" you say, mostly to fill the silence, turning the glass by its stem. "Like, before Ethan and I were even together. I feel like I always just knew you as his friend."
"You did. That's exactly what happened." He takes a sip to give himself time to recoil on the memory. "We met at that party his roommate threw, where it had the terrible speaker system. You spilled something on my shoes and apologized for like ten minutes straight."
"I did not apologize for ten minutes."
"You did. I still remember the shoes, they were new."
"You're exaggerating."
"I'm really not, I still have them." He leans back, glass balanced on his knee. "Then Ethan started talking about you nonstop for like a month before he actually got the balls to ask you out. It was unbearable. I heard about your laugh before I heard you laugh."
You laugh a little despite yourself. "That's embarrassing," you say.
"For him, mostly. I didn't say anything." He swirls the wine, not quite looking at you now. "You were different back then. I mean—Not different-different. I just think that you were, like, less careful about everything."
"Careful how?"
"You used to argue with me for fun. Now half the time you're arguing with me because you're arguing with something else and I'm just the nearest target." He says in a chuckle. "I liked the fun version better. Not that this version's bad, though."
You take your time before replying. Your fingers slowly roll the glass between your palms as you watch the wine reflect the light, letting the silence fill the space while you think.
"I didn't notice it happening," you say finally.
"Fair enough. That's usually how it goes."
He gives you time. He sits beside you in comfortable silence, his glass resting against his knee while the distant sounds of the city soften the moment.
"You know he doesn't deserve the amount of patience you're giving him, right?" he says eventually, not looking at you when he says it, trying to make it easier for both of you. "Whatever he's doing, wherever he's going at nine at night—you're sitting there making excuses for him. I watched you do it tonight."
"It's not that simple."
"It’s obviously not simple, we both know that. I'm saying you deserve someone who doesn't make you rehearse excuses for him in your head before he's even said anything." He looks over at you, his gaze serious. "You're smart. You're funny, when you're not exhausted, which lately is rare. You shouldn't be spending this much of yourself on someone who’s always checking his phone at a dinner with you."
"You don't know everything that's going on, so stop—"
"I don't need to know everything. I already know enough." He sets his glass down, leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees. "I'm not trying to convince you to do anything, okay? I just don't think you hear it enough, so I'm saying it. You deserve better than what he's giving you. That's it."
You look down at your glass instead of at him, throat tight from what you’ve been holding since you found out.
"Like it matters to you, anyway." you mumble quietly.
He lets the silence settle between you once more. Taking a deep breath, he seems to consider his next words carefully, revealing nothing before he's ready.
"It does," he declares finally. "I'm not gonna make it more complicated than that tonight."
You let the subject rest, and he doesn't volunteer anything more. Together, you sit quietly, listening to the muted sounds of the city while the wine slowly warms in your hands. Somehow, the silence says more than words you could find.
After some time, you both decided to watch a movie to ease everything out. Now, you’re curled up on the couch, the bottle of wine you two polished off leaving a soft warmth in your veins. The TV flickers with some late-night drama that you couldn't force yourself to be invested in even if you wanted to. Your head feels pleasantly light, and whatever usually fuels your arguments has faded, leaving behind nothing more than lazy teasing.
A new scene unfolds on screen : dark lighting, tangled sheets, the actors lost in a heated and sensual moment. The woman arches under her partner’s touch as his hands glide slowly over her body ; caressing, teasing, worshipping. The sounds are low and breathy, filling the room.
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and the wine makes you bold. You glance at Heeseung beside you. "I…I’ve never done that with Ethan," you murmur, voice coming out as a whisper. "Not like that, at least."
Heeseung’s head snaps toward you, eyes wide with real shock. "Wait—what? Never? Not even close?"
You shake your head, biting your lip as embarrassment and frustration mix with the alcohol. "No. It’s always been…rushed. He never wanted to explore things or try new things. Like he doesn’t have the patience for it." Your gaze lingers on the screen for another second before returning to him. "Do you…know how to do that? Like, really touch someone like that?"
Heeseung keeps his eyes on you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. Something unspoken passes between you. "Y/N…" he starts, voice low and careful, a flicker of heat in his eyes.
You shift slightly, scooting an inch closer on the couch. "Show me? I want to know everything. Touch me the way he’s touching her. Please?"
He swallows, and finally slowly nods, setting his empty glass aside. "Alright. But tell me when it's too much, okay?" His voice has dropped, rougher now. He reaches out, starting gentle. His fingers brush along your arm, tracing slow lines from your wrist up to your shoulder. "Like this," he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. "Pay attention to how your skin feels under my hand." His palm flattens against your collarbone, sliding down your side in one smooth caress, mapping the curve of your waist through your shirt.
You shiver, the wine amplifying every touch. Emboldened, you lean into him, and he scoots closer too, until your thighs press together. His other hand joins in, fingertips grazing your neck, then trailing down your chest with feather-light pressure.
"Tell me what feels good," he instructs softly, his hand venturing lower, stroking along your hip and the top of your thigh. "Here?" He squeezes gently, then lets his palm glide back up, bolder now.
The space between you disappears as you both shift nearer, bodies turning toward each other. Your hand finds his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat, and slide up to his neck. His breath grows heavier. His fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, caressing bare skin ; warm, exploratory, following the line of your ribs.
You look up at him, lips parted. He meets your gaze for half a second before closing the distance. Tongues meet, slow and deep at first, turning more insistent as your fingers thread into his hair. He pulls you closer, one hand firm on your lower back while the other continues its caress, sliding higher under your shirt.
His kisses grow fiercer, nipping at your lower lip before soothing it, bodies pressing together on the couch as the moment spirals deeper.
You automatically swing your leg over, straddling Heeseung’s lap as the kiss deepens. Your knees sink into the couch on either side of him, bodies aligning perfectly. He groans softly into your mouth, his hands finding your waist instantly, gripping you to steady the sudden movement. "Y/N…" he breathes against your lips, pulling you closer.
His fingers dig in a little too hard at first ; eager, hungry from the built-up tension ; and you yelp sharply against his mouth, a quick flash of pain cutting through the haze of wine and heat. He pulls back immediately, eyes wide with concern, his grip loosening right away. "Shit—sorry," he murmurs. One hand gently rubs the spot on your waist where he’d gripped too tightly. "Didn’t mean to. You okay?"
You nod quickly, still breathing hard, the sting already fading into the warmth. "Yeah…I’m fine. Don’t stop."
Relief flashes across his face, quickly renewed by that same heated look. He leans in again, capturing your lips in another urgent kiss. his time, there's a new caution in the way he touches you. His hands glide slowly along your sides, lingering as though giving you every chance to pull away before one drifts lower. He cups your ass firmly, squeezing with just the right pressure ; possessive, appreciative ; as he pulls you tighter against him.
You moan softly into the kiss, rolling your hips instinctively. His tongue slides against yours, deeper and more demanding now, while his fingers knead your ass, encouraging the movement. The kiss turns messy, breathless, both of you lost in the heat as his other hand stays anchored at your waist, guiding you closer. The undeniable spark between you push everything else away.
You’re both breathing heavily when Heeseung pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and gentle against your ear. "Come off my lap for a second, baby," he murmurs, hands sliding soothingly along your thighs. "Turn around for me."
You nod, a little dazed from the wine and the intensity, and shift off him. He helps guide you, turning you so your back is to his chest. He settles back against the couch, spreading his legs and pulling you between them until you’re nestled against him, your back flush to his front. His arms wrap around you from behind, one hand resting on your stomach while the other strokes your thigh.
"Spread your legs for me," he says softly, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "As far as you can. Let me see you."
You obey, parting your thighs wider, heat flooding your face as the position leaves you open and exposed. Heeseung hums approvingly, his fingers teasing lightly along the inside of your thigh, drawing slow circles that inch higher but never quite touch where you’re starting to ache.
"My pretty girl," he whispers, the praise making you shiver. His hand keeps stroking closer and closer until you’re squirming. "Has he ever fingered you?" he asks almost hesitantly, he already suspects the answer.
You shake your head, voice small. "No…He never did. He only ever made me suck his dick and...he was so rushed to put it in."
Heeseung exhales sharply, a mix of disbelief and irritation flashing through him. "Fuck…alright. I’ve got you."
He’s careful ; painfully so. His fingers slide under your clothes, gently parting you before one fingertip circles your entrance, gathering wetness. "Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.
Slowly, he eases one finger inside you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. He moves gently, curling carefully, his other arm holding you against his chest. "Breathe, Y/N. I’ll make it good for you."
He adds a second finger only when you start rocking back against his hand, still cautious, focusing entirely on your reactions as he begins to pump them in a sluggish rhythm. His thumb finds your clit, teasing light circles while he fingers you with patient strokes.
You gasp sharply as Heeseung’s fingers suddenly hit harder, the angle shifting and sending a jolt of pain through you. Your body tenses, a small cry escaping your lips.
He freezes instantly, eyes widening in panic. "Shit—sorry, sorry," he blurts, quickly easing his fingers out of you. "I didn’t mean to—fuck, are you okay? I’m so sorry, Y/N." He repeats the apology under his breath, one hand gently rubbing your thigh while the other hovers uncertainly, clearly rattled.
You catch your breath, the sting fading fast in the haze of alcohol. A smirk slowly tugs at your lips as you look back at him over your shoulder. "Are you really sorry?"
"Yes," he says immediately, voice earnest. "Of course I am."
You turn around fully to face him, still sitting between his legs. "Then get on your knees in front of me."
He blinks, then lets out a short disbelieving scoff, assuming you’re joking. "What? Right now?"
Your expression stays serious, eyes locked on his. "I said get on your knees."
The smirk on his face fades when he realizes you mean it. After a beat of hesitation, he slides off the couch and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, looking up at you with surprise and growing desire.
"Come closer," you order softly.
He shifts forward on his knees until he’s right between your spread legs, hands resting tentatively on your thighs as he waits for your next instruction, breath a little uneven.
You lean back slightly, looking down at him. "Lick it."
Heeseung’s eyes darken instantly. Without another word, he leans in, pressing his mouth to you. His tongue drags slowly through your folds at first ; warm and soaked ; before he settles into long hungry strokes, focusing on your clit with just the right pressure. His hands grip your thighs to hold you open as he licks you with focused intent, the earlier apology shifted by eager obedience.
You let the pleasure build for a few moments, your hand threading into his hair as his tongue works you over with growing confidence. But then you tug gently, pulling him back.
"Stop." you say, voice breathy yet firm.
Heeseung pulls away immediately, lips glistening, looking up at you with hooded eyes and a hint of confusion. His chest rises and falls quickly.
You smirk down at him, still holding his hair. "You’re not going to continue until you say sorry…while you’re eating me out."
He blinks once, processing the command, then an almost amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "You’re serious?"
You raise an eyebrow, waiting.
He leans back in without further protest. His tongue returns to you before he murmurs the words right against your core, the vibrations sending sparks through you. "I’m sorry," he breathes, licking a long stripe up your folds. "Sorry for being too rough…" Another slow swirl around your clit. "I won’t hurt you again."
He keeps going, alternating between soft apologies and dedicated licks, his voice low and muffled as he eats you out. "Sorry, baby…fuck, you taste so good." His hands grip your thighs a little tighter as he buries his tongue deeper, still repeating quiet "sorry"s between every lick and suck, the blend of submission and hunger making the moment even more intense.
You lean back further, letting him worship you like that ; his apologies vibrating against you with every stroke of his tongue.
You slide your fingers deeper into his hair, gripping it firmly as you pull him closer against you. Heeseung’s eyes flutter half-closed ; sleepy and hazy with lust ; his ears flushed a pretty shade of pink from the heat and the wine. The sight makes something wicked twist in your lower belly.
"Well, would you look at yourself," you tease, voice breathy but filled with amusement. "On your knees, ears all pink, eyes looking half-asleep like a fucking loser."
He pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny and swollen, a lazy smirk spreading across his face despite the grip you have on his hair. His sleepy eyes narrow playfully. "Loser?" he scoffs, breath hot against your skin. "Says the one who’s been missing out for months and is now dripping all over my face. If I’m such a loser, why are you pulling my hair like you never want me to stop?"
You tug his hair a little harder in response, and he lets out a low, amused chuckle, vibrating right where you need it.
"Keep talking shit and I might actually stop," you warn, though your hips roll forward, chasing his mouth.
Heeseung’s smirk only widens, pink ears burning brighter. "Yeah? Then I guess this loser better shut up and keep saying sorry…" He dives back in with renewed energy, tongue pressing flat and slow, murmuring one last muffled "Sorry, baby" against you before focusing entirely on making your teasing backfire.
You feel it building fast ; the tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core while his tongue works you relentlessly. His sleepy eyes stay locked on yours whenever he pulls back for air, pink ears still burning, that smug little smirk never fully leaving his face even while he’s buried between your thighs.
Your grip in his hair tightens, hips rolling against his mouth as your breathing turns ragged. "Heeseung—fuck, I’m—"
Right as the orgasm crests, right as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls back completely. His mouth leaves you with one last slow, teasing lick before he sits back on his heels, lips glistening, looking far too pleased with himself.
You let out a frustrated whine, thighs trembling. "What the hell—"
He chuckles lowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are sleepy-lidded, but sparkling with mischief. "Not yet," he murmurs, voice rough. One finger lazily traces up your inner thigh, barely brushing where you need him. "You were talking so much shit earlier about me being a loser…thought you could handle a little teasing."
You glare down at him, still panting, the denied orgasm leaving you aching and frustrated. He leans in again, pressing the softest, almost innocent kiss right above your clit, then another on your thigh ; carefully avoiding where you’re throbbing.
"What is it?" he teases, voice low and amused. "All worked up and squirming. Were you really about to cum that fast on my tongue? Cute."
He blows a gentle stream of cool air against your wet folds, making you jolt, then gives you one torturously light lick before pulling away again.
"Beg a little nicer and maybe I’ll let you finish," he says with a smirk, pink ears still flushed as he watches your reaction, clearly enjoying edging you way too much.
Your hand tightens in his hair again, torn between wanting to pull him back in and wanting to throttle him for stopping.
You’re still catching your breath on the couch, legs shaky from the cruel edge, when Heeseung rises from his knees. He climbs over you, hovering above your body with his hands braced on either side of your head. His face is flushed, those sleepy eyes dark with want as he looks down at you.
You bite your lip, heart racing. Slowly, you lift one leg and slide your foot up between his thighs, pressing the sole against the obviously hard bulge straining through his sweatpants. You rub it teasingly with your toes, pressing on it with gentle pressure, feeling him twitch under your foot.
His breath hitches sharply, hips jerking forward into your touch. "Y/N," he warns, voice low and strained.
You look up at him with soft, fakely innocent eyes, a sweet little smile playing on your lips even as your foot continues its lazy; pressing, rubbing, tracing the outline of his cock through the soft fabric.
"What?" you murmur softly, batting your lashes. “You edged me…seems only fair I play with you a little."
He lets out a shaky laugh, forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder for a moment. His arms tremble slightly as he holds himself up, clearly fighting the urge to grind harder against your foot.
"Fuck, you’re evil," he breathes, with only affection and raw desire. His eyes flutter half-closed again as you keep rubbing him so gently, the contrast between your soft gaze and the teasing pressure of your foot making him groan quietly above you.
The air between you crackles, thick with tension as he hovers there, letting you toy with him.
You’re still looking up at him with those soft eyes when he suddenly pulls back. He stands just long enough to shove his sweatpants and boxers down in one motion, kicking them aside. His cock springs free, hard and flushed. Before you can fully process, he’s back on the couch, gently turning you around again so your back is pressed to his chest ; just like earlier.
You blink in confusion, still wobbly. "Heeseung, what are you—?"
While staying silent, he wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against him. With his free hand, he guides his cock, rubbing the thick head slowly up and down your soaked core. The pressure is heavy and hot as he glides it between your folds, coating himself in your wetness, letting you feel every inch of his length sliding against your sensitive skin.
"Just feel it," he murmurs against your ear. "Gotta get you used to me first."
The grind makes you whimper, your body tensing as the blunt head nudges at your entrance. Then he pushes in ; slow and gentle. The stretch is intense. You yell out at the burn, your hands flying back to grip his thighs.
Heeseung stops instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I know, baby, I know," he whispers soothingly, voice dull and tender. "You’re doing so good." One of his hands slides down to caress your lower stomach in comforting circles, trying to ease the discomfort. "I’ve got you, Y/N. I’m right here."
He stays still inside you, whispering sweet nothings against your skin while his fingers keep gently rubbing your stomach. Gradually, the pain starts to melt into a deep ache. When your breathing evens out a little, he begins to move. His thrusts are slothful at first but quickly turn sloppy, messy and uncoordinated from the alcohol and the overwhelming heat of the moment. Wet sounds fill the room as he rocks into you from behind, one arm banded around your waist while the other continues caressing your lower belly.
"Fuck…sorry, it’s—shit, you feel too good," he groans, the pace erratic and desperate, hips snapping up into you with needy and imperfect strokes.
His thrusts are getting sloppier, hips stuttering as the dizziness makes his pace messy and desperate. Next, on one particularly eager push, his cock slips out completely with a wet pop, loud enough to be heard in the entire living room.
You squirm hard in his lap, a needy whimper escaping you at the sudden empty feeling. Your body instinctively rocks back, searching for him again.
Heeseung lets out a breathy chuckle against your neck. "Easy, baby…"
He grips the base of his cock and gives it a couple of lazy slaps against your soaked cunt; wet smacks making you jolt and moan. The head nudges your clit with each tap, fooling you until you’re trembling.
And without warning, he lines himself up and pushes back in with one thrust, burying himself deep into you cunt. You gasp at the sudden fullness, your back arching against his chest as he groans deeply.
"Shit…that sound," he mutters, voice rough. His arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place while his other hand returns to caress your lower stomach. He starts moving again, still sloppy and uncoordinated, but deeper now ; each thrust punctuated by the wet sounds of skin meeting skin.
He kisses along your shoulder, whispering hotly, "You’re so fucking wet…hear how you take me?"
His hips snap up messily, cock sliding in and out as he keeps you pressed tight against him, lost in the pleasure of it all. You’re lost in the flow of his cock sliding in and out of you, the filthy sounds of your pussy filling the room with every sloppy thrust, when your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. The screen lights up with Ethan’s name.
You notice that it doesn't stop Heeseung from doing his work. If anything, his hips snap up harder, driving deeper as he reaches over and grabs your phone. You try to protest through a moan, but he answers the call and puts it on speaker, setting it down nearby.
"Hey, man," he says casually, voice only slightly strained as he keeps fucking you tirelessly from behind. The squelching sounds are loud and clear.
Ethan’s voice comes through, sounding worried. "Heeseung? Where’s Y/N? She’s not home yet and she’s not answering her phone. Is she with you?"
"Yeah, she’s right here," Heeseung replies, one hand gripping your hip tighter as he thrusts up into you again, making you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. "She’s a little busy though."
You squirm in his lap, embarrassed heat flooding your face even as pleasure keeps building. Heeseung leans closer to your ear and whispers, "Let him hear how wet you are," before picking up the pace.
The obscene, slick sounds of his cock plunging into your soaked pussy echo clearly through the speaker.
Ethan pauses. "What the fuck is that sound? Is she okay?"
Heeseung lets out a low chuckle, still thrusting deeper. "She’s more than okay. I’m fucking her right now, bro. That’s the sound of her pussy taking my cock."
You moan despite yourself as he hits a particularly good spot, unable to stay quiet.
"Can you hear that?" Heeseung asks tauntingly, angling his hips so the wet noises get even louder. "Hear how soaked she is? Those are her moans too. She’s been missing this for a long time."
Ethan’s voice cracks with shock and anger. "What the hell, Heeseung?! Y/N—!"
Before Ethan can finish, Heeseung cuts him off, still buried deep inside you, voice low and possessive as he speaks directly into the phone :
"You might be what she wants…but I’m clearly what she needs."
He hangs up quickly, tossing the phone aside. His arms wrap around you tighter as he resumes fucking you with intensity, mouth pressed to your neck.
"Focus on me, baby," he murmurs hotly. "Just feel how full you are."
The sounds continue as he drives into you, the interruption only making him more eager. You barely have time to process the call ending before your phone starts buzzing repeatedly on the table. Message after message from Ethan lights up the screen ; vibrating angrily one after another.
Heeseung glances at it but doesn’t stop. His hips keep rolling up into you in that same relentless pounding, cock stretching you open with every wet thrust.
"Damn…he’s blowing up your phone," he mutters with a dark chuckle. One arm stays banded around your waist, holding you firmly in place on his lap while his other hand reaches down to rub slow circles over your clit.
He keeps fucking you through the mess. Your phone vibrates again and again ; texts popping up rapidly.
You moan helplessly, eyes fluttering as pleasure overrides everything else. "Heeseung…he’s—"
"I don't fucking care," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. "Let him text. You’re mine right now."
He angles his hips and thrusts up hard, making you cry out as the head of his cock hits that perfect spot over and over. The phone keeps buzzing but Heeseung only fucks you harder, the sounds of your bodies utterly drowning out the vibrations.
His hand on your lower stomach presses down gently, making you feel every inch of him sliding in and out. "Hear how loud your pussy is for me?" he groans, voice rough. "Keep taking it, baby. Just like that."
You’re a mess ; moaning, squirming, gripping his thighs as he continues pounding into you from behind, unbothered by the nonstop stream of notifications. The phone eventually goes silent for a few seconds only to start vibrating again. Both of you wouldn't care less. Heeseung’s only focus is the way your walls clench around him as he fucks you through it all.
So that's what you've been missing out all this time.
summary: ever the attentive boyfriend, remus asks about your day, but can't help regretting his decision when he realises how bad he needs you. like now. unfortunately though, lily seems to have caught onto the conversation, and now he has to wait.
wc: 1.2k+
cw: suggestive content
Remus knows it’s fully his fault for bringing the topic up, but now that you’re immersed in conversation with Lily, he hopes he hadn’t. All he wanted was to get some attention from you, and he thought he would get extra love points from you by asking about your day, but somehow it’s completely pulled you away from him. He’s sat next to you on your bed in your dorm, a hand heavy on your thigh with Lily and James on her bed. Sirius sits at your desk, latching on to the social energy in the room, but in desperate need of finishing his potions essay due tomorrow.
Meanwhile, you’re ranting to Lily about a single annoying interaction you’ve had in the bathroom with a ravenclaw in your transfiguration class. Remus had meant it to be a ‘How was your day baby?’ and a ‘Oh it was good honey, some ravenclaw was really weird to me in the bathroom, but I missed you’, and then you’d give him all the attention he ever desired. On a regular day, he’d be more than happy to listen to every single detail, every analysis of behaviour you have to offer, and then comfort you with loving words and long hugs, but today he just wants to be the centre of your attention.
Your boyfriend squeezes your thigh, and whilst it’s a movement you don’t notice, James does, his eyes catching onto it. He looks at his friend, but tries not to fixate on him to gravitate everyone’s attention to it. It does allow him to notice more things though, like the way Remus pushes himself up higher so he can kiss your cheek, his eyes focused on your lips as you speak. His free arm wraps around your waist so he can have as much contact to you as possible, and James immediately catches the way Remus’s eyes blink shut when you bring a hand up to play with your boyfriend’s hair.
Lily leans back onto her hands as she begins forming a response for you, but before she can utter any words out, Remus has grabbed your face in one hand, and is moving to towards him so he can kiss you, asking in a mumble “Are we done now?” Remus’s movements have everyone in the room frozen, apart from Sirius, who continues scribbling away at your desk. Lily’s eyes widen in surprise, and she glances towards her own boyfriend, who immediately catches her eye with an amused smile, trying not to laugh at Remus’s clear desire for you. And as for you, you can’t help but giggle at Remus once you come out of your stunned shock.
“I wasn’t, but I can be if that’s what you want.” Remus’s cheeks tint with a light pink colour, but he masks his humiliation by hugging you tightly and rolling onto his hide, dragging you down onto the mattress with him. “It’s not fair!” Remus whines, and Lily slaps a hand over her mouth as she breaks down into a fit of laughter. Her giggles brings a giant grin onto James’s face and soon enough he’s joining in on her chuckles, which causes Remus to try hiding his face in the fabric of your shirt. “Baby, it’s okay.” You coo, fully knowing that you’ve experienced the same type of desperation he’s going through now.
“Full moon was four days ago and we haven’t had time alone since.”
James runs a hand over his face so he doesn’t laugh at his friend’s predicament, and you shoot a glance at your friends with a adoring pout before patting Remus’s shoulder and beginning to stand up off the bed. “Okay, I think we need to go.” You announce to the room, and Remus is instantly on his feet, hands grasping at your waist as he pushes you out of your dorm. You haven’t even made it out the door before he’s pressing kisses to your neck, and you gasp out your boyfriend’s name as he lays the affection thick onto you. You manage to pull the dorm’s door shut, but it’s as though Remus has forgotten that it leads to a hallway, because he presses you up against the thick wood and forces his lips onto yours.
“Rem.” You gasp between kisses, but Remus slides his tongue into your mouth, muffling your next words into pleasured moans. Grabbing your boyfriend by the shoulders, you yank him off you and offer him a scolding expression. It’s difficult to stay mad though, because his lips are so full and red from the kiss, shiny with your saliva as he stares at you with pure want, his eyes so obedient yet pleading for rebellion.
Two girls walk down the hallway, and both you and Remus smile casually at them, still holding each other in your arms. When they pass you, you glance at Remus once more, pointedly saying “Let’s just get to your dorm and then you can have my undivided attention.”
Remus grabs your hand, dragging you down the hallway and across the common room so you can climb the stairs to the male dormitories. Once in the dark hallway leading up to his dorm, Remus hooks his arm around your waist again, waisting no time to get you in his room, which he quickly locks before getting you on his bed. He climbs onto you with a focus on your neck, which he instantly attacks with lips and teeth and saliva. You shift onto the bed to get cozy against your boyfriend’s pillows, all pliant as he begins yanking your trousers down. You let him without making any teasing comments, because again, it’s been four days with the full moon, and usually he would have you on your back within forty-eight hours depending on how quickly he heals.
He leaves kisses down your body, undressing you as he goes, and just as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, a loud knock comes on the door. Remus pauses, then shakes his head with a sense of finality, dragging the flimsy fabric down your legs. You giggle at his movements, spreading your legs for Remus, who moans to himself without doing anything, but a loud call comes through the door, Sirius yelling “Don’t start fucking yet! I left my muggle studies textbook!”
Remus huffs, mumbling something incoherently as you slowly close your legs again, telling him “Go give Sirius his textbook, baby.” Remus groans, tossing his head back in protest, but he still climbs over to Sirius’s messy bed, sifting through the textbooks before heading over to the door. He only opens it a crack, keeping his body in the opening of the door so you stay hidden from sight, and finally hands Sirius his book. “The room is ours for the foreseeable future. You can sleep in her bed if need be.” He warns as he begins closing the door, and you push yourself up onto your elbows, a slight look of panic making its way onto your features as you ask “How long are you planning on fucking me for?”
“Until I get my load of you. Or rather, until you get your loads from me.”
The Crows' First and Last Lines in the Six of Crows Duology
Kaz's first: "Yes and no. It's always good to have a country in debt to you. Makes for friendlier negotiations." (Six of Crows, page 16)
Kaz's last: "That's the laugh." (Crooked Kingdom, page 463)
Inej's first: "This is a mistake. Geels is up to something." (Six of Crows, page 18)
Inej's last: "This was the first cut, Rollins, if you ever think about coming back to Ketterdam, we'll meet again so I can make the second." (Crooked Kingdom, page 468)
Jesper's first: "Three ships! The Shu sent them. They were just sitting in First Harbor, canons out, red flags flying, stuffed to the sails with gold." (Six of Crows, page 16)
Jesper's last: "Not one for goodbyes, is he?" (Crooked Kingdom, page 451)
Wylan's first: "He's not better. He's reckless." (Six of Crows, page 117)
Wylan's last: "How about I push you in the canal and we see if you know how to swim?" (Crooked Kingdom, page 450)
Nina's first: "Go, be at peace." (Six of Crows, page 75)
Nina's last: "Still as the grave." (Crooked Kingdom, 451)
i have missed inej ghafa’s inner monologue so much, and i hadn’t even realized. “there are days when i’m happy and days when i think happiness is a toy we play with as children but don’t know what to do with when we’re grown” IS THE BOOK QUOTE OF THE YEAR IDC
IN WHICH... Jake walks into his apartment to find you—half-naked—dancing in his living room. When he learns that his roommate left you there and never even touched you, he can’t wait to clean up his mess.
WC: 3.7k
Content/Warnings: MDNI, Strangers to Lovers, Porn With Minimal Plot, Nicotine Use, Smut, Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Edging, Dry-Humping, Riding Jake, Sub Jake (wants reader to use his body)
NOW PLAYING... "Steal The Show" - Lauv
Ari's Note: So this was purely inspired by my complete obsession with Lauv's "Steal The Show" from Elemental (which I actually first heard on Jake's live), and this idea came to me while I was listening. So this is dedicated to all my fellow Lauv listeners <3 Also, this Jake pic?? Like hello?? 😳🫠
The first thing Jake heard walking into his apartment was music.
He set his bag down with a thud, his back aching from carrying it all day. He was exhausted. Running from class to work and back to class again, spending every spare moment studying for his midterm an hour ago that he’d probably bombed.
All he wanted to do was shower and sleep, but the music blasting from the living room seemed to have other ideas. He cursed. God, was he sick of his roommate. Link seemed never to get tired of driving Jake mad. Playing the TV until 3 am, making food in the middle of the night, and having his girlfriend, Lizzie, over so much she practically lived there. He thought about moving out at least three times a day, but the rent was too good, and money was too tight.
He walked slowly to the living room, preparing a speech on decent manners and respect for the people you live with, but when he turned the corner, he froze.
Because there, dancing in the middle of his living room, your eyes closed as you moved with the music, was a girl he’d never seen before.
It wasn’t Lizzie; it wasn’t one of his friends who used his couch to get high; it was a stranger. And not just that, you were practically naked.
He spotted a pile of clothes on the floor, leaving you in nothing but a bra and underwear, dancing to the music like it was your entire world. You flipped your hair and swung your hips, spinning and smiling like you were joy itself. Jake watched in muted shock, the music slowly registering as a song from that new Disney movie about the elements he used to help him get to sleep once.
He looked down and saw a dark blue vape on the coffee table, only just registering how the room smelled a little like blueberries.
Jake opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You looked so happy, so full of life, the complete opposite of how he felt. It was oddly freeing, and just slightly, he felt some of the tension slip from his shoulders.
He watched you until the song ended, his eyes tracing the curve of your hips and the bounce of your breasts as you moved. You hadn’t noticed—too lost in your own world—or maybe the slight haze of smoke in the room as you giggled and tangled your hands in your hair.
But then it stopped, and Jake blinked. He opened his mouth just as you turned around.
“Oh, my god.” You jumped back, hands immediately moving up to cover yourself.
“S-sorry,” Jake stuttered, “I didn’t mean to-” He looked away and reminded himself that this was a stranger in his apartment. He looked back up, trying his best to keep his eyes from wandering. “Um, who are you?”
“Uh, y/n? Link let me in.”
Jake cocked his head. “Ok…where is he?”
She shrugged, sitting on the couch and picking up the blue vape to take another hit, all of her previous shyness gone. “He said he had to run some errands and to make myself at home.”
He realized that she had no idea Link was probably with Lizzie right now, fucking her while she sat alone getting buzzed in his apartment.
How much of an idiot could that guy be?
Jake sighed, turning off the TV as a new song started playing on the speakers. He ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Link…he has a girlfriend, and I doubt he’s coming back tonight.”
You stared at him for a second before a high-pitched laugh stumbled from your lips. You tucked your knees to your chest, and Jake couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your exposed thigh.
“That sounds like my luck, always picking the wrong guy.” You studied the vape between your fingers, a dazed expression on your face. You held it out to him. “Want a hit?”
Jake’s eyes darted between you and the vape, knowing he should say no, that he should go shower as he planned and go to bed. But another part of his brain, the one that kept staring at the way your boobs spilled out of your bra, urged his feet forward. And before he could process it, he was sitting down next to you, taking the vape from your fingers and bringing it up to his mouth.
The hit was long and satisfying, blooming into his lungs with a subtle warmth. He coughed slightly as he pulled it from his lips, which made you smirk. “Been a while?” You asked.
“Long day.” He said. Jake put it back on the table, leaning back into the couch with a sigh.
He felt your eyes on him, and he turned his head, noticing now how pretty your eyes were. “How’d you meet Link?”
You tilted your head against the couch cushion, your body still turned towards him. “In the library. He sat at my table while I was studying.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said that I looked like I was stressed and could use a night to relax.”
“So you followed him here?”
“I know, I have zero survival instincts.”
Jake snorted, “Did you guys…?”
You laughed, burying your head in the cushions. “We made out a bit, I sucked his dick, and he left.” You moved your head so that only one eye and part of your mouth were visible. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?”
Jake laughed too. “No, he is, believe me, that guy is a total train wreck. If I had a penny for every time he made me roll my eyes, I’d be rich.”
“That bad?”
“Oh yeah, he makes me miss the dorms.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, so really bad. And here I was falling for it.”
Jake shrugged. “Looks like you were having plenty of fun without him. Never thought I’d see someone dance like that to a song from a kids' movie.”
You shoved his leg with your foot. He tried not to think about the way your thighs rubbed together.
“It’s a good song; you can’t blame me.”
He put his hands up, feeling the buzz setting in, his head fuzzy and loose. “Hey, I’m not. I enjoyed the show.” He winked.
You smiled and looked down, picking at the skin around your nail.
Jake glanced over you again, the words slipping from his lips before he could stop them: “Did he really not do anything?”
You looked up, letting out a short laugh. “I took these clothes off myself; he barely touched me.”
Jake felt a twinge of annoyance in his gut. How could Link leave a girl like you sitting around? If you’re going to be a cheating asshole, at least do it right. He slowly reached out his hand and gently brushed his knuckles down your knee.
“Do you want to be touched?”
The air in the room shifted as you both realized where you were sitting.
You visibly tensed, your eyes searching his. Jake chewed on his lip, studying your expression that started as hesitation and slowly morphed into interest.
“Maybe.”
He smirked. “Maybe?” He moved a bit closer, opening his palm to move down your thigh, your skin prickling under him. “I’m going to need you to be a bit clearer.”
Your eyes fell to his lips, and he watched with bated breath as you parted your knees slightly at his touch. Jake searched your eyes for confirmation, making small circles on your thigh.
He watched your pupils dilate and your skin shiver. The hint of smoke in the room hung around your face, making the tension feel thicker—heavier.
You nodded, your words slightly breathless, “Yes.”
He moved, gripping your thighs and pulling them hard so you were dragged onto your back. He ran his hand up your stomach, smirking as you shivered under him. He leaned down and kissed the skin below your bra.
You sighed, and he smiled, realizing how long you must have been waiting to be touched that night. He hooked his hand behind your back and unclipped your bra, pulling it off you in one motion. Jake groaned when he took in your bare chest, immediately sinking to take one of your nipples in his mouth.
His tongue played with the raised bud, the sensation combined with his hair tickling your skin, making you moan. You slipped your hand into his hair, holding him down.
Jake made a sound, his tongue becoming more active as he felt your fingers pull at his hair. His hand moved down to your hip, his thumb playing with the hem of your underwear as he pulled away from your breast with a wet pop.
He looked at you, the nicotine making the image of you spread out under him painfully euphoric as his erection pressed against his pants. “Link doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He leaned down and captured your lips with his, moving his mouth until you opened for him, giving him the space to slip his tongue past your teeth. He swirled his tongue around yours, groaning when you pulled him closer. “Don’t worry,” he pulled back, “I’ll make you feel good.”
You nodded quickly, your body humming with excitement. “What’s your name again?”
He smiled, “Jake.”
You threaded your fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth back on yours. “Jake,” you moaned into his mouth. You grabbed at the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin pressed against yours.
He pulled back just long enough to pull the fabric over his head, revealing a lean expanse of muscle and smooth pale skin. You barely had time to enjoy the view before he was back on you, kissing you like a starved animal.
“Fuck I needed this,” he groaned. He traced his hand down your stomach in reverence, his hungry eyes scraping down your body. “You’re so pretty. Should dance for me all the time”
You smiled, his words sending a shock of pleasure straight towards your core. “I’ll consider it.”
He smirked and buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin with persistent swipes of his tongue. “I’ll play whatever song you want.”
You moaned as his teeth grazed your nape and you felt your walls clench around nothing. You gripped at his back, feeling his shoulders flex around your touch. You dug your nails in slightly and smiled when he whimpered into your neck, his arm braced around your head, buckling. His chest fell until he was pressed fully against your tits, your hard peaks buried against the warmth of his body.
“Jake!” You gasped, your forehead pressed against his as you tried to catch your breath. You couldn’t stop staring at his lips. They were swollen and glistening with your shared saliva, slightly parted as air slipped through in short gasps. You thought you could kiss them all day, and the heavy fog in your brain was doing nothing to dissuade you.
You kissed him again. “I want to ride you, want to feel you cum inside me.”
Jake made a sound—something between a growl and a whine—and gripped your waist, his fingers firm and protective. He searched your face, his eyes dripping with desire. But even still, you could pick out a single kernel of restraint.
“Are you sure? You don’t even know me-”
“Jake.” You said, holding his face as you stared at him. “I don’t give a shit right now. After waiting hours for your jerk roommate, I think I deserve a reward.”
Jake smirked, and with a surprising show of strength, hooked his hands under your ass and lifted you off the couch and onto his lap.
You yelped in surprise, gripping onto his shoulders as your whole world blurred.
He smiled, his hands holding your hips firmly against him. You could feel his erection pressed against your core, the fabric of his pants already damp with arousal. He hadn’t removed your panties, and the thin layer of fabric between your aching bodies was torturous.
You ground against him softly, and both of you moaned together. His hands gripped your ass cheeks and spread them wider, making your core sit more firmly on his length. Jake moved your hips so your folds brushed over him in another torturous stripe, making you both gasp.
You fumbled at the button on his pants, but he shoved your hands away, instead holding your wrists and guiding them around his neck. “Not yet. I wanna feel you…slowly.”
“Jake,” you whined, “I’ve waited so long.”
He kissed you softly. “I know, baby, but it will be worth it, I promise. Link is gonna regret leaving you alone for the rest of his life.”
You smiled against his lips.
Then he moved.
His hips ground against yours in a steady rhythm, making your clothed core rub against his pants with devastating friction. You buried your hands in his hair, tugging softly as broken moans slipped from your lips. Jake’s breathing became ragged as he moved, and he nuzzled his nose into your neck and up your cheek until his lips were on you, swallowing your sounds in a hungry kiss.
You moved against each other until you were so wet your underwear was practically soaked through, and you could hear the squelch of your pussy with every move of your hips. The sound only fueled the hunger between you, and you sped up, moaning every time his tip caught on your clit.
Jake watched you with wide eyes, his head whipping up and down between your colliding bodies and the way your tits bounced as you ground with increased passion. He leaned forward and took one of your hard nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the bud with surprising control. You ran your hands down his back that was already wet with sweat, and you felt his groan vibrate from his throat and through your chest.
“Jake, I’m close.” You breathed.
He immediately pulled away, and you almost came at the sight of him. His hair was a complete mess from your fingers, big and fluffy and falling in sweaty clumps over his forehead. His lips were somehow puffier than before, pink as sour candy—and when his tongue flicked out over them—you couldn’t help but sigh. But his eyes were what almost destroyed you. They were wide and dazed, unfocused on everything except you, and when they met yours, there was only pure need.
“You ready to ride me, baby?" His hands went to the button of his jeans, and he loosened it before looking back at you for confirmation.
You responded by slipping off his lap, giving him enough room to pull his pants and boxers down. His hard length sprang free, and you cursed at the sight of it. It was long and thick, dripping and angry at the tip from the intense foreplay. You forced your mouth closed when you realized you were basically drooling.
Jake leaned back on the couch and beckoned to you, eyes darting between your face and his dick.
You bit your lip and pulled off your soaked panties before slowly climbing back over him, gasping as his tip brushed your folds. His hands settled back over your hips, providing a steady anchor.
“Go slow,” He said.
You grabbed his shoulders and gently moved so his tip brushed a stripe through your swollen pussy lips, covering him in your wetness.
Jake inhaled sharply and tilted his head back, his jaw clenched.
“You like that?” You did it again.
“Yes!” He gasped. He tilted his head so it was sandwiched between your breasts. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.”
“I thought you were the one supposed to make me feel good, yet here we are.” You teased, sinking so his tip barely slotted into your entrance.
He groaned into your chest, his hot breath fanning over your tits. His grip on your hips only tightened, his fingers almost painful. You looked down and saw the veins on his forearms protruding prominently, strained as he resisted spearing you with his cock.
“You said to go slow; I’m just following your orders, Jake.”
“Good girl,” he gasped. He kissed the space between your breasts. “So perfect for me.” He lowered your hips, drawing a loud moan from your lips as the stretch deepened. Jake thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and he realized he’d do anything to hear it again.
He tilted up his mouth and pulled your head down, taking your mouth in a searing kiss. The way he sucked on your tongue and bit at your lip distracted you completely from your teasing advances, and before you could stop yourself, your body was melting into him, and you felt yourself sink onto his cock in one overwhelming motion.
You gasped against Jake’s lips, the intensity of the stretch making your vision momentarily go white. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and the sound he made was broken and barely human. Jake breathed against your mouth in short whimpers, and you could feel his hips trembling under you, desperate to listen to human instinct and move.
“You ok?” He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort.
You smiled weakly, taking in the warm pressure of him filling you. “Perfect.”
He smiled back and kissed you softly. “Ride me y/n. Want you to use my body like you deserve."
You didn’t respond; you just moved.
You started with gentle grinds, closing your eyes as you felt the ridges of his dick brush against your smooth walls with agonizing friction. You kept your foreheads together, exchanging hot breaths as you slowly learned each other’s bodies. One of Jake’s hands remained a stabilizer on your hips while the other cupped the back of your neck, holding you close. You opened your eyes, watching as his face contorted in pleasure with every thrust of your hips. When the shock of the stretch faded, and only the deep pressure in your core remained, you started to move faster, breathy moans escaping your throat with every snap.
Jake stared down at the place where his cock disappeared into your entrance, eyes wide because he could hardly believe this was happening. An hour ago he’d been moments away from showering and collapsing onto his cramped twin bed, and now he was getting fucked by his roommate’s discarded side-chick.
And he was loving it.
He leaned back onto the couch, giving you space to grind on him fully, gripping your ass and moaning as he felt his climax building.
Jake’s broken sounds spurred you on until you were bouncing on his cock in a debilitating rhythm, moving deep so his tip pounded against your cervix, sending shockwaves of pleasure down your back.
“Jake,” you moaned. “You feel so good.”
His voice was high-pitched and strained as he responded. “You're doing great, baby; you look so beautiful like this. Could watch you bounce on my dick forever.”
You grabbed his hair and pulled him into a messy kiss, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your squelching juices and the clashing of teeth and tongues.
Jake started bucking against you, moving in time with your rhythm as he chased the swell of pleasure racing through his entire body.
The two of you desperately fucked each other until you were nothing but sweaty, moaning messes slicked in saliva and arousal, bodies moving in a tangle of roaming hands and clenched thighs.
It was hot, it was filthy, and both of you were too far gone to process what it must have looked like from the outside.
Jake might have heard the front door of the apartment open—two slurring voices drifting down the hall—if he hadn’t finished at that exact moment.
His orgasm swept over him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath out of him as his mouth dropped open in a broken gasp and he arched against the couch.
The second his warm seed spilled inside you, you felt your walls clench as an explosion of pleasure erupted through your body. Your pussy milked him dry, spasming in concentrated bursts until you knew you were full of him. You gripped Jake’s neck, resting your head on his shoulder as you slowed your grinds and the aftershocks faded into a satisfying hum in your muscles.
Jake slung one arm over your back, tracing soft, soothing circles on the hot skin as his heart rate slowed.
“What the fuck?”
A girl's voice cut through the space like a knife, and both of your eyes shot open. Link and Lizzy stood in the doorway of the living room, staring at the two of you tangled together on the couch, your bodies dripping with sweat and cum.
“Jake…what the hell, man? I thought we agreed on no sex in the common space?” Link said, his expression shocked but also slightly smug.
You were frozen on Jake’s lap, his cock still inside you. You covered up your chest as best you could, and Jake pulled you close so he was shielding you with his chest. “I- uh- thought you’d be gone for the night.”
He shrugged, “plans changed, but it’s ok man, I’m glad you got some.” He winked, and when Link’s eyes looked you up and down, you wanted to vomit.
Jake frowned. “Whatever, man, we’ll clean up; just get out of here.”
He put his hands up. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Don’t have too much fun!” He grabbed his girlfriend's hand and disappeared down the hall.
The second Jake heard his door close, he turned to you, cupping your face in his hand. “Are you ok?”
You nodded and sighed. “Yeah, I can’t believe I thought he was charming at one point.”
Jake laughed softly. “It’s ok, there was a brief period of about five minutes I thought he was a decent guy too.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, he started blasting music at full volume in this very room.” He searched your eyes. “But after today, maybe I don’t mind that as much anymore.”
You smiled. “Did I steal the show?”
Jake leaned forward and kissed you slowly. “Completely.”
