#jake smut

[mssishipi]

the fall of a man — sjy

SYNOPSIS: You were taught that virtue was a woman’s greatest strength, that temptation was a test of will, that desire was the serpent’s whisper leading you astray. But when temptation comes in the form of Sim Jaeyun—holy, untouchable, the very image of devotion—your faith begins to waver.

content tags: slow burn, plot with little bit of porn, mutual pining, both of them are religious and virgins, set in catholic university that is lead by nuns, they don't have sex ed!! adam and eve references, religious guilt, reader crushing and thirsting over jake in religious way that's been written for almost 5k words, some of the scenes are heavily inspired by 'guilty as sin' by ts.

warning: heavy sacrilegious content, karina kind of represent the serpent in reader's pov, blasphemy, explicit content (smut): reader masturbate in the chapel, virgins trying to fuck, virginity loss (obv), blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (condom don't exist), jake call out god's name a lot of times. wc: 16.7k

note: my darling, @fangel really inspired me and make me overcome my fear in writing the most unholiest thing in the world, i'm inlove with you, bae and you really changed my world with your fics <3 i wrote this fic for armin arlert way back 2023 but never had the guts to publish it, but hey u give me a reason to continue this fic. and to my readers out there, i hope you enjoy reading this fic, i love writing jake's pov here :)

Ever since you were a child, you followed everything your parents told you. Raised in a devoutly religious household, your days revolved around faith—joining church activities, attending every Sunday mass without fail, even flying to Puerto Rico with your family to take part in Misa de Aguinaldo.

Religion wasn't just a part of your life; it was your life.

You loved God. You loved listening to preachers, absorbing their words like scripture carved into your soul. You loved spreading the message of Jesus Christ, the warmth of faith filling you every time you shared His name.

You prayed constantly—palms pressed together, head bowed, whispering words of gratitude for every blessing, of repentance for every misstep. You prayed for strength, for purity, for the will to resist temptation.

And yet—temptation had a name.

And his name is Sim Jaeyun.

You remember the first time you saw him walking through the gates of the Catholic university you both attended.

Jake Sim was the very embodiment of devotion, of unwavering faith. He carried himself with an air of holiness, always with a rosary wrapped around his fingers or a Bible tucked beneath his arm. He spoke with conviction, every word laced with the kind of certainty only true believers possessed. And yet, to you, he was something else entirely.

The way he moved, the way his voice echoed through the chapel—it was hypnotic. Your prayers would falter on your tongue whenever he stood at the altar, leading hymns with a voice so steady, so sure.

You had watched him, your eyes tracing the curve of his lips as he spoke, the way his lashes fluttered when he blinked. You had memorized the way candlelight danced across his skin, the way the veins in his hands shifted when he clasped them in prayer.

The boy who knelt before the cross with his eyes closed in deep, persistent faithfulness.

The boy who touched the rosary beads with such reverence, his fingers gliding over each one as if they held the weight of his salvation.

But all you could think about was how those same fingers would feel tracing the lines of your body, how they would press into your skin—not in prayer, but in something far more sinful.

How his lips would taste if they weren't murmuring scripture, if instead, they whispered your name in the dark.

How his faith would crumble if he ever looked at you the way you wanted him to.

And as you sat in the pews, hands clasped, head bowed, you prayed—not for strength, not for purity, but for him.

You shouldn't think about him that way. You shouldn't let your mind wander, not here, not in the house of God.

You knew the weight of sin, the warnings etched into you since childhood. Your family had made it clear—masturbation, desire, sex before marriage—each was a path to damnation. To act on them was to betray God.

Do not lay a hand on any boy. Do not think of flesh, of pleasure, of sin. Do not touch your body with thoughts of another.

But if you had never touched him, never let your hands stray to your own skin —if all you had were thoughts, then how could you already feel guilty as sin?

The golden light of the late afternoon filtered through the stained-glass windows of the university chapel, casting soft hues of red, blue, and gold onto the polished wooden pews. The air was still, filled only with the faint scent of old parchment and melting candle wax.

You sat near the front, fingers absentmindedly tracing the spine of your prayer book. The chapel was mostly empty, save for a few students lingering in quiet reflection. And him.

Sim Jaeyun stood near the altar, carefully arranging hymnals. Even in the simplicity of his tasks, there was a quiet devotion to him—an unshaken faith that made it impossible to look away.

You tried to focus on the words of the scripture open in front of you, but your thoughts were restless. It wasn't the first time you had stayed after midday prayers, and it wasn't the first time you had found yourself stealing glances at him.

A quiet sound of footsteps against the marble floor.

"You're here again."

You glanced up to find Jake standing at the edge. You nodded, offering a small smile. "I like the chapel in the afternoon. It's peaceful."

Jake hummed in agreement, sliding into the pew beside you, though he kept a respectful distance. "It's my favorite time, too," he admitted, clasping his hands together. "When the day is slowing down, but the world isn't quite asleep yet."

You studied him for a moment, watching as the sunlight touched his face, illuminating the softness in his features. "What do you pray for?" you asked.

Jake exhaled, his gaze fixed ahead. "For strength," he said. "To always follow the right path."

You nodded slowly, looking down at your hands.

"And you?" he asked.

You hesitated. You knew what you should say. Strength. Wisdom. Purity.

But instead, you murmured, "For understanding."

Jake turned to you, brow slightly furrowed. "Understanding?"

You swallowed. "There are... thoughts I don't always understand." You hesitated, fingers tightening around the pages of your prayer book. "And I ask for guidance. To know what is right."

For a moment, Jake was silent, then he offered a small, knowing smile. "God sees our hearts even when we struggle to see them ourselves." His voice was gentle and reassuring. "Sometimes, we don't need to have all the answers. We just need to trust Him to show us the way."

His words should have comforted you. But as you looked at him—at the boy who made your heart race in ways you couldn't explain—you weren't sure if the path you longed for was the one God had intended for you.

Sim Jaeyun barely even knew you. The two of you only shared a religion class, occasionally finding yourselves in the same prayer group. Your interactions were brief—just passing glances, a quiet exchange of smiles. Sometimes, after kneeling in prayer, he would hand you a sandwich and a bottle of water and you always accepted with a small nod of thanks, though the warmth in your chest lingered long after.

During every community outreach, you would catch glimpses of him—kneeling to pet stray dogs and cats, laughter spilling from his lips as children clung to his arms, their tiny hands gripping at his sleeves. He spoke to the elderly with a patience and gentleness that felt almost sacred, offering up his seat without hesitation, carrying their bags.

He was the kind of person people gravitated toward, the kind of person who made faith feel tangible—something living and breathing, rather than just words in a book.

You wondered if someone like him, someone pure as gold, ever sinned.

Sim Jaeyun was a name whispered often in the girls' residence hall. Every night, as curfew neared, you would hear them murmuring from their bunks.

"He'd make such a good husband." "Imagine him as a father—he'd be perfect." "Any girl would be lucky to have him."

A quiet admiration, soft and innocent. So why was yours so much heavier? So much more?

Why did yours feel like something that sat in your chest, something that pressed against your ribs with every prayer, something that burned?

"Your body is sacred."

The nun's voice rang through the classroom. She moved slowly between the rows of desks, the wooden stick in her hand tapping lightly against her palm with every step.

It was an all-girls class since she was teaching anatomy. But this wasn't just about the body. It was about purity.

She stopped near the front of the room, turning to face the class. Her gaze swept over each of you, as if she could see straight into your thoughts. "God has given you this body," she continued. "A temple. A gift. A vessel meant for holiness, not for sin."

You swallowed, shifting slightly in your seat.

"Temptation is everywhere," she said. "It creeps into your thoughts, into your hands, into the desires you do not speak of. But hear me, girls—"God is watching.""

The stick tapped against her palm again.

"Masturbation," she said, the word itself feeling heavy as it filled the silence, "is a sin against your own flesh. To lay a hand upon yourself in lust is to defile what was meant to be pure."

A hush settled over the room. Some girls looked down at their desks, others sat rigid, eyes wide, hands folded neatly in their laps as if to prove they had never done such a thing—never even thought about it.

You felt a heat crawl up the back of your neck.

"When you indulge in these acts," she continued, voice sharp with a warning, "your body burns—not with passion, not with pleasure, but with sin. A fire that does not cleanse, but corrupts."

She paused, her gaze sweeping the room again,

"And when you engage in sex outside of marriage, when you surrender yourself to the desires of the flesh, that fire does not leave you. It stays. It marks you. And on the day of judgment, when you stand before God, He will see it. He will know."

A shudder ran through you. You clenched your hands together, nails pressing into your palms.

Then, the nun's eyes landed on you.

"You understand, don't you?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question.

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came.

And just for a moment, you thought of him.

Sim Jaeyun.

Of the way his fingers brushed over rosary beads in prayer. Of the way his voice sounded when he spoke of faith, of devotion. Of how those hands, that voice, could ruin you.

And as the nun continued, warning of damnation, of the watchful eyes of God, you couldn't help but wonder.

If God was watching, did He already know what was in your heart? And worse—had He already condemned you for it?

"Yes, I understand," you said, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

Guilt settled deep in your chest. Your palms were damp, fingers twitching slightly as you clasped them together.

You needed to repent.

You needed to pray until the thoughts left you, until the weight of sin lifted from your heart. Until the fire the nun spoke of no longer burned beneath your skin.

"Here, an apple for you."

A small hand reached toward yours, fingers curled around a tiny, imperfect apple. The child's eyes were bright with innocence, his smile wide as he offered it to you.

It was community outreach day in the mountains, where children ran barefoot over the uneven ground, laughter ringing through the crisp afternoon air. The scent of earth and firewood lingered, mingling with the distant voices of volunteers.

You knelt slightly, accepting the apple with a gentle smile. "Thank you," you said, your voice soft.

The boy beamed, pleased by your gratitude before running off to join the others.

You were about to take a bite of the apple when a sudden tap on your shoulder made you pause. Turning, you found your classmate standing behind you, her expression impatient.

"I need you to find Karina," she said, arms crossed. "She's missing again. And we need to leave by three."

You sighed, tucking the apple into your pocket. "Alright, I'll look for her."

With that, you made your way up the stone steps leading further into the hills, where the trees grew denser and the voices of the other volunteers faded into the rustling of leaves. The fresh mountain air brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke.

As you climbed higher, a small tug on your sleeve made you stop.

"Lady, where are you going?"

You looked down to see a little girl standing beside you, her dark eyes round with curiosity. She was sucking her thumb, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt.

Crouching down to her level, you offered a reassuring smile. "I need to find my friend."

The girl tilted her head, studying you with the kind of seriousness only children could manage. Then, after a moment, she leaned in slightly and whispered, "Be careful out there."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She pulled her thumb from her mouth and grinned, baring her tiny teeth. "There's a snake," she hissed, making a slithering motion with her hands. "They bite!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'll be careful."

With a gentle pat on the girl's head, you urged her to go play with the others before continuing your search.

"Karina!" you called, your voice echoing through the trees. The afternoon air was with the scent of damp earth and pine, the only sounds around you the rustling of leaves and the distant chatter of children below.

After what felt like ages of wandering, you sighed, pulling the apple from your pocket. Your thumb brushed against its smooth surface as you took slow steps forward, letting yourself take a small break.

Then, just as you were about to take a bite, something caught your eye.

It was small cabin, worn by time, tucked between the trees. You hadn't noticed it before, hadn't even realized anyone lived this far up the mountain.

Lifting your head, you parted your lips to call for Karina again but you heard a low, quiet, barely audible voice over the wind.

Your breath hitched slightly, and instinctively, you stayed silent.

Tilting your head, you slowly took a bite of the apple, the crunch loud in the stillness. Step by step, you moved around the cabin, careful not to make a sound.

You crept closer, your breath shallow, your fingers curled tightly around the apple. The rough wooden cabin stood against the trees, its single window slightly ajar. Through the gap, the muffled voices inside grew clearer—soft murmurs, hushed laughter.

A breathless moan.

Your body tensed, You hesitated for only a moment before tilting your head, peering through the dust-coated glass.

And that's when you saw the most sinful acts you've ever witness.

Karina was sprawled against the wooden table, her back arching beneath the weight of the farmer pressing into her. Her dress was bunched up around her waist, her bare thighs caging his hips. His hands gripped her skin, fingers digging into the softness of her legs, his mouth trailing down the curve of her neck.

Your stomach twisted, but you couldn't look away.

Karina wasn't resisting. She wasn't recoiling in shame or horror. There was no fear in her expression, no sign of guilt or repentance.

She was pulling him closer.

Her fingers wove into his hair, tugging slightly as her head fell back, exposing more of her throat to his lips. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her mouth parting with quiet, trembling gasps.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

The nun's words echoed in your head, warnings of fire, of suffering, of bodies burning for their sins.

But Karina wasn't burning.

Your breath trembled as you stared, as the world you had known—the one built on prayer, on restraint, on the fear of temptation—began to splinter.

How is she not burning?

The apple slipped from your fingers, tumbling to the ground with a dull thud.

A hiss was heard. The sound was sharp, unnatural, cutting through the silence of the forest. Your body stiffened, a cold shiver crawling up your spine. Slowly, your gaze flickered to the tree beside you.

A snake. Its body coiled around the rough bark, scales glistening in the fading sunlight. It was watching you, its tongue flickering out.

Eve was tempted. Eve took the fruit.

Your stomach twisted violently as you staggered back, tearing your eyes away from both the serpent and the scene inside the cabin.

You ran. Branches scraped against your skin as you pushed through the trees, your feet barely touching the ground. The echoes of Karina's breathless moans clung to you, no matter how fast you tried to outrun them.

You needed to forget. To erase the moment of sin that had burned itself into your mind. To cleanse yourself before the weight of temptation swallowed you whole.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee..."

Your eyes clenched shut as you muttered the prayer, over and over, you repeated the words, as if their rhythm alone could cleanse your mind, could undo what you had seen.

The rosary felt heavy in your hands, the beads pressing into your palm. But no matter how tightly you held it, no matter how desperately you clung to prayer, the memory would not leave you.

"Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus."

You sucked in a sharp breath, your chest tightening.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners—"

Your voice broke. This was your fall.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, then another, until you were gripping the rosary so tightly your knuckles turned white. A quiet sniffle escaped you, but the tears kept coming, blurring the dim candlelight of the chapel.

You could not stop trembling, your stomach tightening, a dull ache spreading between your legs, heat pooling where it should not.

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, but it did nothing to stop the throbbing. You clenched your fists, willing the sensation away, but the images had already taken root.

Karina. The farmer. The way her body had arched into him, how she had clung to him. It should have horrified you. It should have disgusted you.

Instead, a shudder ran through you as your mind betrayed you, as the image shifted, reshaped itself into something far more forbidden.

Not Karina.

You.

And not the farmer.

Jake.

Your breath hitched. The thought was wrong—blasphemous. But it came unbidden, vivid and consuming, slipping into the cracks of your mind like sin itself. You saw him above you, his hands gripping your waist, his lips murmuring something against your skin.

Your rosary slipped from your fingers, the beads scattering against the marble floor.

You gasped softly, snapping your eyes open as if waking from a dream—no, a nightmare.

Your hands flew to your chest, pressing against your heart as if you could smother the racing beat beneath your skin.

No. No, no, no.

Tears welled in your eyes again, this time not just from guilt but from fear—of yourself.

This was your fall.

The serpent had coiled itself around you, whispering its venom into your ears, seeping into your thoughts, your body.

Karina was expelled after the nuns discovered what she had done during the community outreach.

You helped her pack in silence, folding the last of her skirts into a worn-out suitcase.

Your nose was red, your eyes swollen—for many reasons. Of course, you hadn't told anyone what you saw. That was yet another reason you were a sinner. You had kept her secret, watched in silence as she was cast out.

But worse—you couldn't stop thinking about it.

And worst of all, you had lost another prayer partner.

Your voice was quiet when you finally asked, "Do you regret it?"

Karina's hands stilled over the fabric of her blouse. She stared at the ground for a long moment before exhaling slowly. "No."

"They're sending me away," she continued. "Some isolated place, far from men. Away from temptation. They'll make me enter seminary, force me to repent, try to fix me."

She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Fix me. As if I'm broken."

You said nothing, letting her words settle between you.

Karina turned then, her gaze finding yours. "But I don't regret it. No matter what they try to tell me." A small, humorless smile tugged at her lips. "But you wouldn't understand, would you?"

Your fingers curled into the fabric of her dress as you folded it, staring at the delicate lace trim. "There are a lot of things I don't understand," you admitted. Then, meeting her eyes, you added, "But I do not judge. I am here to listen."

Karina studied you, her expression is pained. Then she let out a slow breath, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You know the story of Adam and Eve," she said.

You nodded. "Of course."

"They call it the fall," she murmured, tilting her head slightly. "But have you ever thought that maybe it wasn't a fall at all?"

You frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her fingers intertwined. "Eve took the apple. She chose knowledge, chose to know desire, hunger, craving. And for that, she was cast out." Karina exhaled through her nose, a bitter smile on her lips. "But maybe that was never a punishment. Maybe it was freedom."

She glanced at you then, "Christianity tells us that craving is sinful. That wanting—whether it's knowledge, pleasure, or love—will ruin us." Her voice lowered, "but tell me—why would God give us bodies that feel if He didn't want us to use them?"

Your throat felt dry.

"You've thought about it, haven't you?" Karina questioned. "You've felt it."

Heat crept up your neck, shame curling tight in your stomach.

Karina smiled, but it wasn't mocking. If anything, it was knowing. "It's normal to crave, you know," she said. "To want."

"In the city," Karina continued, "I heard students openly talk about sex. About how it's natural. They even discuss things like hormones, the way the body reacts to desire. When your clitoris—"

"Shhh!" Your eyes widened as you shot a panicked glance toward the door. Your hand moved on instinct, pressing against her lips to silence her.

"Do not use such vulgar words!" you hissed, even hearing such a thing felt wrong, like an invitation for sin to take root inside you.

Karina only laughed, she gently pulled your hand away, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Why? Because the nuns don't want you to know your own body?"

Your cheeks burned, your fingers curling into your lap as you looked away. "Because it's wrong," you muttered. "You speak of things that lead to damnation."

Karina sighed, tilting her head. "Says who? The nuns? The ones who tell us that touching ourselves will set our bodies on fire?" She leaned in slightly, "Tell me, have you ever actually tried it?"

Your breath hitched as you swallowed, your pulse hammering against your skin. "I—I would never—"

Karina smiled knowingly. "Of course you wouldn't. Because you're afraid, aren't you?"

You stiffened. "Afraid of what?"

"That they were lying to you," she said simply.

You stared at her, Karina reached for your hand, her touch gentle as she placed it over your own lap. "If it's really so sinful," she murmured, "if it really makes you burn... then why don't you test it?"

Your breath caught in your throat. Her fingers pressed lightly against yours. "Go on. Just once. Just to see if their words hold any truth."

"If you want to touch yourself," she continued, undeterred by your silence, "put your fingers inside—but don't just push in and out. Curl them inside, find the spot that makes your legs shake."

Your entire body went rigid as Karina leaned closer, her lips curling, almost amused at your reaction. "And your clitoris—"

"Stop," you gasped, eyes widening as you instinctively clamped a hand over her mouth. Your other hand flew to the door, your head snapping toward it, terrified that someone might hear.

She giggled against your palm, her laughter muffled before she gently pulled your hand away. "Why are you so scared?" she teased. "It's just your body. It's natural."

Your cheeks were burning now, hot with embarrassment.

Karina sighed, tilting her head as if she pitied you. "If you ever do find someone," she continued, undeterred, "a boy—"

You swallowed hard.

"Let him play with your nipples." Her voice dipped lower, as if she were sharing a secret meant only for you. "Let him suck them, bite them just a little. It feels so good."

Your thighs clenched involuntarily.

"And a boy," she went on, eyes glinting with mischievous, "his penis—"

"Karina!"

She laughed, completely unashamed of her own words. "What? It's true! If you want to make a boy weak, touch him there. Play with it, stroke it, suck on it—especially the tip."

A choked sound escaped you.

"Giving someone pleasure," she said, watching your reaction, "is just as enjoyable as receiving it. Maybe even more."

Your hands trembled in your lap. You couldn't even look at her now. Your mind felt clouded, a war raging between every lesson the nuns had taught you and the curiosity her words planted deep inside you.

Karina exhaled, shaking her head. "You poor thing," she murmured, you bit your lip hard, trying to drown out the heat rising in your body with pain.

"You should try it, you know," she said after a beat, her voice almost gentle now. "Just once. Just so you know if they were lying to you all along."

Your chest tightened, your heart hammering so loudly you feared it might betray you.

Because the worst part wasn't her words.

It was that you wanted to know if she was right.

So you repented again.

You prayed and prayed for forgiveness, whispering desperate pleas beneath your breath, pressing your forehead against the cold chapel floor. You gripped your rosary so tightly that the beads left indentations in your palm, as if pain itself could cleanse you.

But it was getting harder. Especially now, with Holy Week approaching. Longer prayers, deeper fasting, more time spent in solemn reflection. And yet, the more you immersed yourself in worship, the more temptation gnawed at you.

Especially since Sim Jaeyun was the one leading Passion Week.

You sat among the others, hands folded in your lap, your gaze fixed on the cross, trying not to think about him. Trying not to remember Karina's words.

"If you ever find someone, let him touch you, let him play with you—"

You swallowed hard, clenching your fists against your thighs.

Women and men were not allowed to be seen too close together. A proper distance must always be kept, a respectable space left between bodies. A simple conversation was permitted—but only from afar.

"You do pray very often."

The voice came from behind you. You stiffened, your breath catching in your throat as you turned slightly—only to find him.

Jake stood just a few feet away, hands clasped in front of him. "Is something bothering you?"

You turned back toward the cross, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your fingers curled against your knees, sweat forming at your temples.

"No," you whispered, though the lie burned on your tongue.

Jake was silent for a moment. Then, softly, he said, "You can talk to me, you know. If something is troubling you."

You closed your eyes. How could you tell him?

How could you tell him that the prayers weren't working? That no matter how hard you tried, the thoughts would not leave you? That he was becoming the temptation you could no longer escape?

Your eyes started to water again, he knelt beside you, as his presence settled so dangerously close—closer than what was proper.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your fingers tightening around the rosary.

Jake watched you. From this close, he could see the way the candlelight illuminated your face, casting soft shadows along the delicate curve of your cheekbones. Your skin glowed, almost ethereal, as if touched by something divine.

You looked like a painting—one of the old Renaissance depictions of saints and martyrs.

Beautiful.

His gaze drifted lower, to the way your lips barely moved as you whispered prayers, the words shaky, your hands trembled over the rosary, clutched so tightly.

His eyes fell to your knees. The fabric of your skirt had shifted slightly, revealing the barest hint of bruised skin—evidence of hours spent kneeling.

He had seen piety before. He had witnessed countless prayers, watched the most devout of worshippers bow their heads in absolute faith.

But this—the way you prayed, the way you looked before the altar—felt different. He couldn't imagine what sin someone like you could have possibly committed.

His voice came quietly, "You should rest."

You flinched slightly at the sound of his voice,

"I can't," you murmured.

And then softly, without thinking—he reached out.

His hand hovered over yours for just a breath before settling atop your trembling fingers. Palm to palm, warm and steady, stopping you mid-prayer.

He didn't know what possessed him to touch you. Perhaps it was the way you looked so lost, so utterly consumed by something unseen. Or perhaps it was the fact that no nun was watching, no one to scold him for standing too close, for placing his hand over yours.

His touch was meant to be assuring. Nothing more. Nothing sinful.

But then you stiffened beneath him.

Your breath caught in your throat, your shoulders going rigid, your fingers twitching beneath his. Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs.

You turned your face toward him.

Jake sucked in a quiet breath as his eyes met yours—wide, desperate, a single tear slipping down your cheek.

He had never seen a gaze like that before. Not in church, not in prayer, not in the face of someone seeking salvation.

His fingers flexed slightly against yours, the warmth of your skin radiating beneath his palm. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand, a slow, instinctive movement, like a silent reassurance.

Before he could stop himself, his other hand lifted. Gently, hesitantly, he swiped away the tear that had slipped down your cheek, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.

You gasped softly. It was the smallest sound, but it sent something through him, something that made his fingers linger just a second too long against your face.

Your skin was warm beneath his touch. Soft. Alive.

It took everything in him to pull away.

The moment his fingers left your cheek, a strange kind of loss settled in his chest. He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the fabric of his handkerchief before carefully pulling it out. Silently, he placed it in your trembling hands.

"Whatever you were praying for," he murmured, "I'm sure God will understand."

As if to anchor you back into the faith you were grasping so desperately onto, he smiled.

The kind of smile meant to bring comfort. But to you, it only made it worse.

"I should go," Jake said, you nodded, unable to meet his gaze. He shift beside you, the soft rustling of fabric as he stood. His presence lingered for just a moment longer before the sound of his footsteps echoed against the chapel floor, growing fainter.

And yet, his warmth remained.

Your hands trembled as you lifted the handkerchief to your face, pressing it against your damp cheeks. His scent clung to the fabric—a faint trace of sandalwood and incense, something undeniably him.

You exhaled shakily, squeezing your eyes shut.

God will understand.

A broken sob escaped your lips as you clutched the fabric tighter, your body trembling with something you no longer had the strength to fight. Tears slipped freely down your cheeks, soaking into the handkerchief as you sniffled against it.

Your fingertips skimmed over the waistband of your skirt, then lower, brushing against the thin fabric beneath.

A sharp breath left you when you felt the wetness, sticky and warm, pooling between your thighs, evidence of the thoughts you had failed to purge.

You should stop. You should repent.

And yet, your other hand only tightened around the handkerchief, pressing it closer to your face, inhaling the faint traces of him.

Still kneeling, you stared at the cross before you. Your body trembled, shame curling in your stomach.

You sobbed, your weight tipping forward, forehead pressing against the marble floor. Your free hand clenched at your skirt, your knuckles white with restraint.

Your finger dipped inside, a choked gasp slipping past your lips at the sudden intrusion.

The feeling was new, startling and unfamiliar. You hesitated only for a moment before pressing deeper, your body clenching around the touch, breath hitching as pleasure licked up your spine.

The nuns had warned you—the body will burn.

But as your fingers curled, as something electric shot through your legs, making them tremble, you realized this was not pain nor suffering.

Your mouth parted, a quiet, breathless sound escaping as you rocked into your own touch, your other hand bracing against the marble floor to steady yourself, the overwhelming scent of him filling your senses.

Sim Jaeyun—his hands hovering over yours, the warmth of his palm against your trembling fingers, the way he had wiped away your tear.

Your fingers pressed deeper, and a soft gasp escaped your lips. You imagined it was his touch, his fingers exploring you with hesitant curiosity.

"You do pray very often," his voice echoed in your mind, "Is something bothering you?"

Yes, he was bothering you.

You pictured him above you, his fingers tracing over the same places your own were now.

"Does it burn?" he would ask, voice laced with something both sinful and sacred.

And you would shake your head—because it didn't.

It felt holy.

Your body arched into your own touch, your legs trembling as heat coiled deep inside you, tighter and tighter, threatening to consume you whole. The pressure, the ache, the need—it was overwhelming. It was blasphemous.

Yet, it was the closest you had ever felt to salvation.

A gasp tore from your lips, soft yet sinful in the silence of the chapel. Your fingers pushed deeper, your body rocking to meet them, each movement sending dizzying waves of pleasure through you.

Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead, falling onto the floor. You added another finger, stretching yourself further, testing the limits of your own body. A choked whimper escaped as your walls clenched around the intrusion, your breathing ragged. Your other hand fumbled against the floor, grasping for stability, but there was none—no safety, no sanctuary, no way to stop now.

You think about his hands on your waist, his lips trailing down your neck. Your body tensed, your fingers working faster, chasing the edge of an unknown pleasure that built higher and higher—until it was too much, too much.

With one final, shuddering breath, the world shattered around you. Your body trembled, pleasure crashing over you in violent waves, a silent cry caught in your throat as your mind went blank.

Your body slumped forward, forehead pressing against the cool marble floor, your fingers slipping out as the aftershocks of pleasure left you breathless.

There was only silence. Only your heaving breaths, the scent of candle wax and incense thick in the air, the fading echoes of his name somewhere in the depths of your mind.

Then, guilt settled in, so heavy. You had really fallen.

And yet, as you lay there, pulse still racing, you couldn't bring yourself to repent.

The days blurred into nights, and with each passing moment, you felt yourself slipping further into something you could no longer control.

You couldn't meet your own reflection anymore. The girl in the mirror was not the same—her eyes hollow with guilt, her lips parted in silent prayer that never reached the heavens. You had abandoned the comfort of your rosary, leaving it untouched on your bedside table. Even the scent of candle wax and incense, once a balm to your soul, now felt suffocating.

It was as if a devil had settled inside you, whispering in your ear, feeding your thoughts with things no holy woman should crave. And yet, no matter how fiercely you fought it, you kept returning to your sin.

Each night, beneath the shroud of darkness, your body became a traitor. Your hands moved without permission, exploring places you had been taught were forbidden. Your bedsheets tangled around your legs, damp with sweat, evidence of your transgressions.

And always, always, his name spilled from your lips.

Each time, you found yourself back in the same position—fingers trembling, thighs clenched, gasping into the silence of your room, drowning in him. And it felt too good to stop.

"Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love..."

You whispered it every day in the chapel, hands clutching the rosary so tightly. "According to Your great compassion, blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin..."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, soaking into the fabric of your sleeves as you knelt before the altar. You sobbed, your body wracked with guilt, your lips forming words of repentance.

And yet—when you returned to your bed that night, your body trembling with guilt, your prayers still lingering in the air—

You touched yourself anyway.

"It's impressive how you always pray," Jake said, his voice gentle, filled with quiet admiration. A small smile graced his lips. Another interaction. Another moment that would be burned into your mind, another weight added to the burden of your sin.

"How you always find time to speak with Him," he continued. "I'm sure whatever you're praying for, you'd be heard."

You swallowed hard. Would God listen when your prayers were no longer pure? When you begged not for salvation, but for relief from the temptation standing before you?

You forced a polite nod, quickly wiping at your damp cheeks, hoping he wouldn't notice how red your eyes were. How broken you looked. Your knees ached from kneeling for so long, your fingers sore from gripping the rosary too tightly. If only he knew what your prayers had become—not words of devotion, but desperate pleas for deliverance.

You were about to stand, to create distance, to escape before your body could betray you again. But before you could move, Jake lowered himself to kneel beside you.

The proximity sent a shiver down your spine. His presence was grounding, yet it set something uneasy alight inside you.

"You know," he said, voice soft, "I quite admire you."

Jake smiled, warm and sincere, his eyes searching yours as if he was seeing something sacred in you. "You share a special relationship with God," he continued. "The way you pray, the way you devote yourself—it's beautiful."

"I've seen the way you never miss a prayer," he went on. "The way you kneel here for hours, speaking to Him when no one else is watching. I've seen the tears, the way you hold your rosary."

His gaze flickered down to your hands, still red from gripping the beads too tightly.

"And I think... that kind of devotion is rare."

You swallowed, forcing yourself to look away, because his words—his praise—felt heavier than anything the nuns had ever told you.

Because it was him saying it.

He didn't know that your devotion wasn't pure. That your prayers were not for holiness, but for control. That when you closed your eyes at night, it wasn't scripture that filled your mind, but the memory of his touch.

"God must love you very much," Jake murmured, tilting his head slightly. "To have someone as loyal as you."

You inhaled shakily, without thinking, you shifted back, settling onto the wooden pew. Jake stayed where he was, still kneeling, his gaze fixed on the cross. You swallowed. Your fingers curled around the rosary in your palm

"Can I confess, Jake?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Jake turned his head, he hesitated for a moment before moving to sit beside you, his posture still composed. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice is with quiet curiosity. "I am not a priest—I can't take such confessions."

You exhaled sharply, your grip tightening around the rosary.

"Forgive me, for I have sinned."

Jake stilled beside you his confusion was evident in the way his brows knitted together, in the way his head tilted slightly as if trying to piece together what you meant. "Why?" he asked slowly.

You couldn't look at him. If you did, you feared he would see it. The truth. The war inside you. The way he was the very thing you needed to confess.

Your throat tightened as you muttered the next following words. "Because," you whispered, forcing the words out before you lost the courage to speak them, "I don't think I want to repent."

Jake stiffened beside you. His breath hitched, his entire body going rigid. His fingers curled against his lap, gripping the fabric of his trousers. "H-How can you say that?" His voice was unsteady, a stark contrast to the usual calmness he carried. His soft features, always composed, always gentle, were now pulled into shock and disbelief.

You swallowed, your throat dry, your heart slamming against your ribs as you forced yourself to continue. If you stopped now, if you let fear take hold, you would never be free of this.

"I think of things I shouldn't."Your voice trembled, but your gaze didn't waver this time. "I touched myself."

Jake's body jerked slightly, his lips parted again, but no words came, as if he had been struck speechless, as if the confession had ripped the breath from his lungs. His Adam's apple bobbed with a harsh swallow, the tendons in his neck tightening. His gaze flickered away, darting briefly to the cross above the altar, as if seeking guidance, as if seeking a way out. But there was none. He could not look at you, not when the weight of your confession was still lingering in the air

"You..." he started, but the words failed him. He shook his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. His brows furrowed, "Why are you telling me this?"

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms as you forced yourself to speak—forced yourself to ruin yourself completely. "Because it was you, Jake."

Jake inhale, his eyes widening, but only for a second. Something changed—something deep inside him, something that flickered behind his dark gaze like a dying flame suddenly reignited.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, your skin tingling under the intensity of his stare. But you didn't stop. You couldn't.

"I touch myself with the thought of you."

Jake's fingers dug into his thighs, gripping so tightly. His breathing turned shallow, uneven, his chest rising and falling at a pace that betrayed his struggle. His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips, before snapping back up, but the damage was already done.

He was flustered.

"D-Do not say v-vulgar things," Jake whispered, his hands trembling slightly where they rested against his lap. But it was his eyes that held you captive—wide, burning, conflicted.

Your throat tightened, and before you could stop yourself, tears welled in your eyes again. "I don't think I'm free of guilt if I confess to God."

Jake flinched at your words. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach for you, to stop you, to comfort you—but he didn't. Because he shouldn't.

"I keep praying for forgiveness," you continued, your voice trembling, "but I do not regret what I have done."

Jake inhaled sharply. His gaze flickered to the cross for only a moment—as if searching for guidance—before returning to you. Your lips trembled as you forced out the truth, the final confession that sealed your fall.

"I only feel guilty because thinking of you is a sinful act against my own people."

A tear slipped down your cheek, falling onto your lap, soaking into the fabric of your skirt. You weren't sure what you were asking from him—absolution, understanding, or something far more dangerous.

"God is willing to forgive again and again, right?" you choked out. Jake's breath hitched, and then you asked the only question that truly mattered. "But are you willing to forgive me?"

His throat bobbed with another hard swallow, but he couldn't speak. Because there was no answer to give. Not one that would be right. Not one that would be true. He stood abruptly. The movement was sudden, almost jerky, as if he was running—fleeing.

You watched him, lips quivering, hands still clenched together in your lap.

His palm was sweaty as he brushed it against his robe, his pulse erratic as he stepped out of the chapel, the heavy door closing behind him with a finality that made your chest ache.

You didn't call after him. You didn't move. Because what could you say? He was already gone.

Jake arrived early at the residence hall, his movements stiff, controlled, as if forcing himself into habit, but as soon as the door shut behind him, his composure cracked. His chest rose and fell with deep, unsteady breaths, his hands running through his hair in frustration. The ghost of your voice lingered in his ears, wrapping around his mind like a noose.

"I touch myself with the thought of you."

"I do not regret what I have done."

His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He sank onto the bed, head falling back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut.

"But are you willing to forgive me?"

His breath came out shaky, ragged, as he muttered, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." His voice was strained and the prayer did nothing.

Nothing to rid him of the images flooding his mind, of your tear-streaked face, of the way your voice trembled, of the way you looked at him as if he held the answer to your salvation. He sucked in a sharp breath as his hands gripped the sheets beside him, as the tension in his body coiled so tight it hurt.

And then—he felt the unbearable heat pooling low in his stomach. The painful ache of his cock pressing against the fabric of his pants.

He let out a quiet, desperate whine, the sound muffled against his palm as he ran a hand over his face, as if trying to scrub away the shame, the want, the overwhelming weight of you. Still, the words of his prayer tumbled from his lips, over and over, between broken breaths.

Just like Adam, he had been steadfast. Pure. Untouched by temptation. He had walked the path of righteousness without faltering, without question, his faith as unwavering as the ground beneath his feet. He had known his purpose—to obey, to serve, to resist.

And yet, you— the Eve.

A whisper of temptation. Just as Eve had reached for the fruit, her fingers brushing against the knowledge of sin, you had reached for him—not with hands, but with words.

And now, like Adam, he was failing. He had seen the fruit before him. He had heard the serpent's voice, had felt the first stirrings of doubt deep in his chest, where conviction once lived.

He wanted to reach back.

To taste. To know. To fall.

Because wasn't that what Adam had done? He hadn't been deceived—he had chosen to fall with Eve. He had taken the fruit from her hand, knowing what it would cost.

"Take a bite."

The voice echoed in his mind, low and insistent, curling around his thoughts like a serpent coiled around a branch. Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, but he did not see it.

Instead, he saw you.

He imagined you whispering to him, your lips forming the very words that now tormented him. He imagined your fingers brushing against his wrist, leading him closer to ruin. Just as Eve had turned to Adam with the fruit cradled in her palm, you had turned to him with your confession, tempting him in ways he had never been tempted before.

His cock throbbed painfully beneath the confines of his pants, damp with his own arousal.

"Take a bite," the voice urged again, slithering through the cracks of his crumbling resistance. His hands clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He should continue praying, to fight whatever temptation the devil was filling him.

But instead, he lay there, panting, burning not with the way the nun teaches, his body betraying him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He let himself imagine.

"Heaven and earth are full," the voices soared inside the chapel, the morning light streaming through the stained-glass windows.

"Are full of your glory."

Jake's lips parted, but he did not sing. His gaze was fixed on you. You stood in the choir, your voice blending seamlessly with the others, yet somehow, to him, it was the only one that mattered.

Your long white dress fell in soft folds to your feet, the fabric catching in the gentle morning breeze drifting through the open doors. The wind moved through your hair, shifting it slightly, making it look almost weightless.

You were a vision of purity wrapped in divinity.

"Hosanna, hosanna."

Your eyes are dull and distant, told a different story. You sang the words, but you were not present. There was no joy, no reverence, only an emptiness that should not belong to someone standing before God.

"Hosanna in the highest."

But to him, you were the highest. More than the chapel's towering walls, more than the altar bathed in candlelight, more than the cross above them all. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch, to reach, to worship. But not as a believer should.

"Show me."

The words slipped from Jake's. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening as you stared at him.

The small room at the back of the chapel felt unbearably tight, with the scent of old books and dust, the faint aroma of candle wax lingering in the corners. A candlelight was at the center of the table.

This was a place of study, of quiet contemplation, and A man and a woman should not be alone together. Not when the door was shut.

"Show me." Jake swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Show me how you touch yourself."

"H-Huh?" You stuttered, barely able to form words, your mind struggling to comprehend what he had just said. "Jake, you're so pure... I don't want you to be tainted like me. I already disappoint God—"

"Please, just show me."

His voice was desperate, his restraint fraying at the edges. Jake stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

Your breath hitched as he leaned over the table between you, hands bracing against the worn wood, trapping you between his body and the cold stone wall.

"I have thoughts about you too."

Your eyes snapped up to his, his eyes were glassy, his lips trembling as if the weight of his own confession was too much to bear, unshed tears brimming in his lashes.

"I thought of you that night," he murmured. You sucked in a breath, pressing yourself further into the table.

"I disappointed God too."

"Jake. . . " Your breath hitched at his confession as your eyes is searching on him. "Are you not afraid? Of the fire that will burn you?" you asked.

Jake's breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling as he leaned closer, his hands tightening against the edge of the table. "Does it burn you when you touch yourself?"

"Because when I thought of you," Jake continued, "my body just ached for your embrace."

Your heart pounded so loudly; you almost want to lower your head due to the proximity.

"It's not the fire that burns me."

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenched as his gaze bore into yours, "It's the ache of longing for you."

You had feared he would resist, that he would turn away, condemn you, beg for salvation. But he wasn't begging for salvation. He was begging for you.

"Take a bite," a voice in the back of your mind hissed—low and insidious.

And without another word, without hesitation, you reached for him. Your fingers curled around the nape of his neck, you pulled him in, lips met his.

A low, desperate moan escaped Jake's throat as he crushed you against him, his hands finding your waist, gripping you so tightly. His body pressed into yours, heat radiating through the layers of fabric that still separated you.

His lips moved against yours with a hunger that startled you. The tears that had brimmed in his eyes slipped down his cheeks.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling, needing. The kiss was desperate, both of your teeth are clashing. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. The pressure of his mouth against yours softened after a moment, his lips parting slightly, then his tongue brushed against yours.

A soft gasp left your lips, and Jake seized the moment, his tongue slipping past the seam of your mouth, exploring, tasting. He groaned into you, the sound vibrating against your chest, making something hot coil in your stomach.

Your grip tightening in his hair as the kiss deepened, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, coaxing you into submission.

"If you want to make a boy weak, touch him there. Play with it, stroke it."

Still kissing him, your free hand drifted lower, hesitant, until your fingers pressed over the hardness beneath his pants.

Jake cried out. His entire body jerked, his hips stuttering beneath your touch as he broke the kiss with a sharp gasp.

"Oh my Lord—"

His head fell forward, forehead pressing against your shoulder as his breath came out in ragged, uneven pants. His hands clenched at your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress.

You swallowed, watching in fascination as his body trembled beneath your touch.

Carefully, experimentally, you pressed your palm more firmly against him, stroking him slow through the fabric.

Jake whimpered. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, chasing the pleasure, more relief, yet it was never enough. Your name slipped from his lips in a strangled moan, muffled against your shoulder.

"I want to see you. Please." You whisper, more like a whine as your fingers continued to stroke him through the fabric of his pants.

Jake lifted his head slowly, his breath ragged, his pupils blown wide with something that had nothing to do with faith. Tears streaked his flushed cheeks, his lips parted as they trembled.

His gaze locked onto yours, vulnerable yet so needy.

"W-Will you touch me more?"

His voice cracked at the end, his body shuddering as he fumbled with the buttons of his pants, his fingers shaking too much to work quickly. You watched as he hesitated, his chest rising and falling rapidly, before finally tugging the fabric down past his hips.

Your breath caught in your throat.

A penis. His cock was thick, long, flushed a deep shade of red. Fluid leaked from the swollen tip, dripping down the shaft in slow, glistening trails.

You remembered feeling disgusted way in anatomy class, staring at the stiff, clinical images in textbooks, thinking the male body was strange, almost grotesque.

Now, your mouth watered.

Heat pooled deep in your belly, your pussy clenching together involuntarily. You didn't even realize what you were doing until you were already on your knees.

Jake's breath hitched, his body going rigid. His wide, teary eyes stared down at you.

"W-What a-are you doing?" He exhaled sharply, his voice cracking. You glanced up at him, your hands settling on his thighs.

A whisper from your past came back to you, "Suck on it—especially the tip."

Your lips parted, and you murmured, "I'm going to pray for forgiveness." then you took him into your mouth.

"Ahhh—!"

A choked gasp tore from his lips, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His hands flew to your head, fingers tangling in your hair, but he didn't push. He held on for dear life.

His knees buckled slightly, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps as your warm mouth engulfed him.

You tasted the saltiness of his arousal, the unfamiliar flavor spreading across your tongue, but instead of pulling away, you took more.

"Jesus Christ, this is disgusting," Jake cried, his voice shaking—yet his hands remained buried in your hair, his hips jerking forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

His breath came out in broken gasps as he watched you, watched the way your cheeks hollowed around his cock, the way your lips stretched to accommodate him. His fingers trembled where they tangled in your hair, torn between holding back and pushing in further.

"It feels too good—too good, too good—" he whined, his mouth falling open, eyes glassy.

Your stomach tightened at the sound, heat curling between your thighs at the way he was breaking apart. You wanted more, you needed more.

Your tongue traced along the underside of his shaft, your head bobbing steadily, each movement coaxing more whimpers from his lips. His thighs trembled beneath your hands, his entire body shaking with pleasure so foreign to him that he didn't know what to do with it.

"You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain." The words echoed in the back of your mind, a commandment you had already shattered beyond repair.

But you like hearing him, hearing the way he gasped for God, the way his voice cracked when he moaned between whispered prayers.

Your eyes flickered up, meeting his gaze. Jake whimpered, his breath stuttering as you took him further, pushing yourself until the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. Your gag reflex tightened, but you didn't pull away. You held him there, letting him feel everything.

"A-Ahhh—!"

A loud, uncontrollable moan ripped from his throat as his head fell back, exposing the column of his neck, veins prominent, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gasping breath.

His body tensed, his fingers gripping you too tightly, as if he was seeing God Himself in the pleasure washing over him.

His moans grew louder, needier—his entire existence reduced to you and the sin you were leading him into.

His grip in your hair tightened, his hips stuttering as he fought to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth, from losing himself entirely.

"S-Something's coming—something's coming."

His voice broke, whimpering and breathless. Still bobbing your head, you reached down with one hand, lifting your skirt, fingers sliding beneath the fabric of your underwear. The moment your fingers brushed against your slick folds; a moan vibrated against his shaft.

Jake gasped, his thighs tensing, his entire body shuddering at the sensation.

Your wetness coated your fingers, and with no hesitation, you pushed one inside, curling it the way you always had when you were alone—except now, you weren't alone.

Now, it felt too good to be true. Because Jake was in front of you.

Because Jake was falling with you.

Your own pleasure built with every movement of your fingers, every muffled moan that sent vibrations through him.

His hand slid down, trembling, until it brushed against your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, tears from how deep you had taken him, from how overwhelming it all was.

His touch was tender, contradicting the broken, filthy sounds spilling from his lips.

"You're—" he choked out, his voice wrecked. "You're touching yourself?"

You hummed around him, confirming, not slowing down, your fingers working deeper inside yourself as his body tensed above you.

Jake whimpered, his head falling forward, his lips barely parted as he stared. His stomach coiled tighter and tighter, his body trembling as his hips stuttered, chasing the feeling, unable to hold back.

"You look so beautiful," he sobbed, his voice raw and shaking. "So divine."

His gaze never left you, drinking in the sight of you—on your knees before him, lips wrapped around his length, taking him so deep without breaking eye contact.

A choked moan tore from his throat at the way you looked up at him, at the sheer devotion in your eyes. It was as if you had been sculpted by God Himself, crafted not from dust but from light, from holiness.

Jake had always admired you.

The way you prayed every afternoon in the chapel, hands clasped. How your lips moved so softly in whispered hymns, the way your voice blended into the choir like something celestial.

How you knelt before the altar, head bowed, untouched by the world around you, your beauty standing apart from anything he had ever known.

Now, you were kneeling for him, your mouth worshipped something else entirely.

His hips jerked forward, unrestrained, a sob catching in his throat.

"Oh—oh, my God—"

His entire body shook, the pleasure nearly blinding. A choked sob left his lips as his release spilled into your mouth, hot and thick, coating your tongue. His hips jerked involuntarily, pressing deeper until your nose met his abdomen, forcing you to take every last drop.

You moaned at the sensation, fingers working faster inside yourself, chasing the same pleasure that had just undone him. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, salty, forbidden—yet you swallowed it all, not letting a single drop go to waste.

Above you, Jake shuddered violently, his hands tangling in your hair as if clinging to you for stability.

His head tipped back; his lips parted in a silent cry as he came down from his high. His fingers trembled against your scalp, stroking gently.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered, his eyes clenched shut, his chest rising. He held you there, cradling your head against his abdomen, his body still twitching from the aftershocks.

You tapped his thigh twice, a silent signal. Jake inhaled sharply, His grip loosened instantly, and with shaky hands, he let go of you, his cock slipping from your mouth.

A thin string of saliva connected you, stretching between your lips and the flushed tip of him before breaking. Your tongue remained out, your breath ragged, your lips swollen and slick with the remnants of his release.

"You... you swallowed my seed," Jake whispered, you stared up at him through lidded eyes, your breath shaky, your body still moving, fingers still working inside yourself.

His gaze flickered downward, following the slow, desperate motion of your hand beneath your lifted skirt. His cock twitched, still sensitive, yet already stirring again at the sight of you.

"It... it should be in your uterus," he muttered, his brows drawing together. "Not your mouth."

A slow smile curled at your lips, heat simmering beneath your skin as you reached for his hand, guiding it to your cheek.

"Then pump me with your seed, Jake," you whispered.

A sharp inhale left his lips, his fingers tightening at your sides before he pulled you to your feet.

His mouth was on yours again, his hands trailing down your back, finding the zipper of your dress. He tugged it down slowly, the fabric loosened, slipping over your shoulders, pooling at your feet.

Jake pulled away, his lips parting as he took you in—your bare form. His throat bobbed, fingers trembling slightly as they traced over your waist.

He bent down, lips finding the curve of your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

Your gaze lifted past him, to the walls of the room—where portraits of nuns, saints, and martyrs hung in quiet judgement. Their solemn eyes bore into you, unblinking, unwavering. Your chest tightened, guilt creeping in but you didn't want to stop.

Instead, you let your eyes fall shut, choosing to surrender—to savor the moment.

"Teach me how to please you," Jake murmured against your skin, his hands encircling your waist, holding you close.

You inhaled sharply, your fingers threading through his hair before drifting down to cup his face. Your foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.

Jake's eyes fluttered shut as he sighed against your palm, his lips brushing against the center of it before pressing a tender kiss there. His own hands lifted, fingers tracing the shape of yours.

You pulled away slowly, you reached behind you, unclasping your bralette. The straps slipped from your shoulders, the fabric falling away, leaving your bare skin exposed to the afternoon light. Your underwear followed, sliding down your legs until you stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but temptation itself.

Jake's breath caught, his entire body rigid as he took in the sight of you—completely bare, completely his to look upon, to touch.

His lips parted, his gaze roamed over you, over the soft curve of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the smooth expanse of your thighs. He had seen statues of angels, paintings of the Virgin Mary draped in flowing white, but no work of art, no scripture, no vision of heaven itself had ever looked as divine as you did now.

You turned, settling yourself onto the wooden table behind you, your legs parting slowly, revealing yourself to him without hesitation.

A shaky exhale left your lips as your fingers trailed down your own skin, tracing along your inner thigh before sliding to your labia. You arched your back slightly, sighing as you spread yourself wider, holding his gaze.

"Come here, J-Jake," you moaned, your breath hitching as you pushed a single finger inside yourself. Jake swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he reached for the buttons of his shirt. One by one, he undid them. He let the fabric slide from his shoulders, pooling onto the floor before taking slow steps toward you.

As he neared, his breath hitched, his gaze lowering to where your fingers disappeared inside your slick folds. His pupils dilated, "It's so wet," he whispered.

Before you could respond, his hand moved. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, still slick from your arousal, and gently pulled your hand away.

Jake's gaze flickered to your glistening fingers, then he brought your hand to his lips.

You gasped, your walls clenching involuntarily as his tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time. His lashes fluttered shut, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he took more of you onto his tongue, savoring the taste.

When Jake opened his eyes again, they were darker.

"I want more." A sudden moan tore from your throat at his words, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. You reached for his wrist, guiding his hand between your legs, breath hitching the moment his fingers brushed against your slick folds.

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers trembling as they hesitated at your entrance, slowly he pushed a single finger inside you.

A gasp escaped you as he entered. His jaw clenched at the sensation, his breath uneven as he felt you—felt the way your walls clenched around him, soft and wet and so impossibly tight.

His free hand gripped your thigh for support, his own body shuddering. Then he curled his finger.

"Oh God!" A sharp cry left your lips, your back arching at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Jake choked on a moan, watching you intently, his eyes locked onto every flicker of expression on your face.

He did it again, this time slower, pressing deeper, and your fingers dug into his shoulders.  His breathing grew heavier, his forehead nearly pressing against yours as he whispered, "Can I touch your breasts?"

Your head fell back, your lips parting on a silent gasp. You nodded frantically, eyes shut, too overwhelmed to speak properly. But a pleading "please" slipped from your lips.

That was all the permission he needed. Jake's other hand rose cautiously, fingers ghosting over the curve of your breast before cupping it fully, squeezing experimentally. His breath hitched at the feeling—warm, soft, the peak pebbling under his touch.

You moaned at the contact, pressing into his palm, "You like that?" he asked.

You nodded quickly, tilting your chin up to kiss him again, swallowing his breath. Your body was burning in a way that the nuns never depicted, your core aching with want, and you didn't care how shameless you sounded when you pleaded, "Please, touch me more."

Jake swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his fingers kneaded your breast, his other hand still buried deep inside you, working slow, torturous circles that made you gasp.

"Lean down and suck my breast," you whispered against his lips. "I heard it feels good."

Jake pulled back slightly, blinking down at you, his cheeks flushed. "Like a baby?" he asked, almost innocently, though the way his hips pressed forward, grinding his aching cock against your thigh, told another story entirely.

You let out a breathy laugh, though it was cut short when he twisted his fingers inside you, making your back arch.

"No," you whimpered. "Like a man who wants me."

Jake groaned, before lowering his head, his lips parting as he took your nipple into his mouth. The moment his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud; a cry left you.

He started gently at first, his lips soft and warm against your breast, still testing, still learning how to touch you. But as your back arched, as your fingers tangled into his hair and held him there, he grew bolder.

His lips sealing around your nipple, his tongue swirling. Then his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, just enough to send a delicious shudder down your spine.

"Jake—" you gasped, thighs clenching around his waist, trapping him against you.

He moaned against your skin, his free hand massaged your other breast, fingers rolling the hardened peak between them, mimicking the movements of his tongue.

"Add another finger inside me—please, please," you begged, voice breaking, hands clutching at his shoulders, urging him deeper.

Jake's forehead pressing against your chest bracing himself as he obeyed. His second finger slipped inside, stretching you further, filling you in a way that made your toes curl. Your walls clenched around him, tight, warm, so wet, and Jake whimpered, his hips bucking against your thigh at the feeling of you around his fingers.

"I want you inside me," you whispered into his ear, tears slipped down your cheeks. Jake let out a shuddering breath, his body stiffening at your words. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "They said it will hurt," Jake whispered, his fingers, still buried deep inside you, twitched. His free hand came up to your cheek, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb, his touch so tender it made your chest ache.

He swallowed hard. "I don't want to hurt you."

You leaned into his touch, your lips brushing against his wrist as you whispered, "I want to feel all of you, Jake. Even if it hurts, I want you."

Jake's breath hitched, his forehead pressing against yours. With trembling hands, he withdrew his fingers from your heat, watching the way your body shuddered, the way your thighs quivered as he left you empty. He brought his fingers to his lips without thinking, tasting you again, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a quiet, needy moan.

Jake let out a shaky exhale, gripping himself at the base. His other hand rested on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Are you sure?" he asked.

You nodded, spreading your legs further, offering yourself to him completely. "Please, Jake."

With a shaky breath, Jake lined himself up with your entrance, his tip pressing against your heat. His hands trembled as he gripped your thighs, steadying himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly, carefully, began to push inside.

A gasp tore from your lips the moment he breached you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to his shoulders, molding yourself against him as your body adjusted to the slow intrusion of his thick cock.

The stretch was overwhelming. Tears welled in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks as your walls struggled to accommodate him. Looking down, you saw—he had barely entered you. Only the tip, and yet, it already felt so much.

Jake let out a strangled moan, his breath stuttering as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

"S-Slow," you whimpered, your body trembling beneath him. Jake nodded rapidly, biting his lip so hard. His entire body was tense, his self-control hanging by a thread as he forced himself to move at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"You’re so—" He choked on his words, a desperate whimper escaping him. "So tight—God—"

His hips twitched involuntarily, and you gasped, your nails raking down his back at the sudden jolt of sensation. Jake's breath hitched at the sharp sting of your nails, his cock throbbing as he pushed in another inch.

A broken sob escaped you.

"I-It’s too much—" you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust, trying to take all of him.

"Shh, I know, I know—" he whispered, kissing your tear-streaked cheek, peppering soft kisses along your jaw, trying to ease the overwhelming stretch. His hands slid down to your thighs, holding you open, rubbing gentle circles into your skin as he murmured against your lips, "do you want me to pull out?"

You shake your head, Jake exhaled sharply, his breath warm against your skin, his hands steadying you before he pressed forward again, stretching you further. Until you felt his abdomen on your navel. Every movement forcing your walls to open for him, to take him in ways you hadn’t known were possible.

A hiss escaped you, your back arching off the wooden table at the overwhelming sensation of being completely full. "Y-You're inside me," you gasped, as your gaze dropped between your bodies.

Jake groaned softly, his hands gripping your waist, his cock throbbing inside you as he fought to remain still, to give you time to adjust. "Yeah," he murmured, "I'm inside you."

Your breath was ragged, your fingers shaking as they slid up to his face, tracing the curve of his jaw. "I'm not burning," you whispered, half in disbelief. "I'm not burning."

The nuns had lied. The warnings, the fear, the fire they swore would consume you if you ever gave in to desire—it was nowhere to be found. There was only warmth. Only Jake.

Jake swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto yours. He reached for your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"You're not burning," you whispered. Jake brows furrowing, a gasp tore from your lips as he pulled out slightly before thrusting forward again, sinking into you. His mouth fell open, his head tilting back as he felt you, felt the way your walls clung to him, squeezing him.

His lips parted, but the only sounds that came were broken, incoherent prayers.

"Oh, God—" he choked out. His hands shook as they traced over your body, touching you, his fingers skimming your sides, your stomach, your breasts. You cried out as the pain shifted, morphing into pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," Jake sobbed, he thrust back inside you, deeper than before, his arms tightening around you. His chin rested atop your head, his lips brushing against your hair as he inhaled, breathing you in, letting your scent consume him as much as your body did.

"You're—you're everything," he whispered shakily, his hips rolling into you. "Made perfect, sculpted by God’s own hands," he moaned against your skin. "How could something so sinful feel so good?"

You whimpered beneath him, clinging to his shoulders. 

"I could do this every day," he moaned. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering open, finding his face above you. He pulled back slightly, just enough to cup your face in his trembling hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His forehead pressed against yours.

"I would do this every day," he corrected himself, groaned as he thrust deeper, his hips stuttering slightly at the way your walls clenched around him. "Worship you like this. Love you like this."

Your moans grew louder, your nails pressing deeper into his skin, leaving marks along his back as if claiming him in return.

Jake groaned, his lips parting, his body trembling from the way you felt. "Would you let me?" His eyes searched yours. "Would you let me taint you? Every day?"

His hands roamed your body, gripping your waist, then sliding lower to cup the back of your thighs, pulling you closer. His movements slowed, dragging out every sensation, every inch of him inside you.

Your back arched, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist, locking him in place, your breath coming in soft, desperate gasps as the pleasure built inside you. 

"Yes, yes!" you cried out. "Taint me, fill me with your seed—I don’t care anymore!"

A ragged moan tore from his throat as he thrust harder. "You're all I've ever wanted." His pace turned desperate, frantic. His hands shook as he rocked into you. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your moans as he drove deeper, his body pressing you down into the wooden table. The room was filled with the sinful sounds of skin meeting skin, of breathless gasps and muffled cries.

"I’ll give you everything," Jake panted, his forehead pressing against yours, sweat dripping from his temple. "I’ll fill you up, I’ll make you mine—"

His thrusts grew erratic, his hips snapping forward, chasing release, chasing you.

Your walls clenched tighter, pulsing around him, and he whimpered, his body tensing, his breath stuttering as the pleasure coiled unbearably tight inside him.

"Jake, Jake," you whimpered, your hands drifted lower, fingers grazing over the stretch where your bodies met. You could feel him inside you, thick, pulsing, dragging against your walls with each deep, sliding thrust. 

Your fingers dipped lower, pressing against your clit. A sharp gasp escaped you. The moment your fingers touched the sensitive bundle of nerves, a bolt of another intense pleasure shot through you. 

Jake groaned at the movement, his grip tightening, his lips parting as he watched you touch yourself.

"It feels too good—too good," you sobbed, rolling slow, shaky circles against your clit, heightening the pleasure building inside you. Your walls spasmed around him, gripping him tighter, making his hips stutter.

"Oh my Lord," Jake moaned, his head dropping against your shoulder, his body shaking with the effort to keep himself together. "This—this feels too good. I am willing to sin every day to get a taste of you."

"I would trade heaven just to stay inside you forever—"

His teeth grazed your jaw, his fingers locking around your wrists, guiding your movements against your clit, urging you faster, desperate to bring you with him.

"Please—please, come for me," he begged, and with one last deep thrust, as your fingers circled your clit faster, as his cock hit the perfect spot inside you.

The pleasure snapped through you, your entire body seizing as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him as your climax washed through every inch of your being.

Jake choked on a moan, his body jerking as he buried himself deep, hips stuttering, his breath breaking into ragged gasps. His hands trembled as they gripped your hips, holding you still as his release spilled inside you, hot and thick, filling you completely.

His lips found yours again as he emptied himself into you, his body still shaking from the intensity of it all.

You gasped into his mouth, still riding the aftershocks, feeling the warmth of him inside you. Neither of you moved for a long moment, too overwhelmed, too wrecked to do anything but exist in the sinful haze of what had just happened.

Jake’s hands slowly slid up your back, his fingers tracing over your spine made your chest tighten. Finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze soft but dazed, as if he still couldn’t quite believe what he had done—what you had done together.

 "Are you okay?"

Your heart ached at the tenderness in his voice, at the way he searched your face for any sign of regret. But there was none. You reached up, brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering against his cheek.

"I'm full of you," you murmured, "I can feel you inside me."

Jake groaned, his hands tightening on your hips, his entire body tensing as he let out a shaky breath. Yet, even as exhaustion threatened to pull him under, his cock twitched inside you—still buried to the hilt, still too sensitive, yet already stirring again at your words

"Don't say that," he whispered, but his hands betrayed him.

They slid upward, over your waist, tracing the curve of your ribs before finding your breasts again, cupping them, thumbs circling your pebbled peaks. His fingers kneaded softly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his palms. 

Your back arched, your head tipping back, letting your hair cascade over the edge of the table. Your lips parted in a breathless moan, the aftershocks of pleasure still tingling in your veins, yet now, a new wave of desire was coiling inside you again. 

You were undone beneath him, your body glistening with sweat, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes still dazed, darkened with lust. And yet, you looked untouched. 

His grip on your breasts tightened slightly, his hips pressing forward just enough to remind you that he was still inside you.

"You make me forget who I am," he murmured, his breath shaky against your throat. "What I'm supposed to be."

His lips found the pulse at your neck, trailing down again at every inch of your skin. 

Neither of you noticed the way the candlelight flickered. Because you had both awakened the Tree of Knowledge.

And neither of you would ever return to Eden.

Jake had always been a man of God.

From the moment he could speak, he was taught that he was formed from the dust of the earth, molded by divine hands, a creation of purpose. His parents instilled in him the belief that he was meant to walk the righteous path, to live a life devoted to prayer, to obedience, to purity.

He appreciated every intricate work of the Creator—the way the sun spilled golden light over the stained-glass windows of the churches, the way the choir’s voices soared in perfect harmony, the way scripture spoke of faith and the reward of salvation. He saw God in everything, and in return, he gave himself to Him, dedicating his days to scripture, to service, to resisting the sins that so easily ensnared others.

Where others strayed, he remained steadfast. Where others indulged in temptation, he turned away.

He had watched boys his age succumbs to their own desires— lusting over naked bodies, wandering hands beneath heavy blankets. He had seen the way girls blushed at their names being called by the wrong kind of voice, the way they giggled behind cupped hands, oblivious to how close they danced to damnation.

But not him.

Jake had spent his youth guarding his body, his mind, his soul. He never allowed himself to waver, never let his thoughts wander to things he had been told were unholy. And if—if—his body ever betrayed him in the quiet of night, if his skin burned with an unfamiliar ache, if his mind was tempted by images that had no place in his heart, he would fall to his knees in prayer.

He would beg for forgiveness, whispering fervent apologies, asking for the strength to resist, the grace to overcome.

And for years, he believed he was strong enough.

He believed his faith was unshakable, that no force on earth could tempt him away from his devotion. He had spent his life resisting, rejecting, turning away from desire as though it were a serpent poised to strike.

During one of his evening services at the university chapel, he saw you. At first, it was nothing. A passing glance. A new face among many, just another student filling the pews, singing hymns.

But then, he saw you again.

And again.

You stood among the choir, always placed near the back, always just slightly out of reach—like something meant to be admired from afar, never touched. Your voice wove seamlessly into the others, rising with the organ, filling the chapel, but it wasn't just your voice.

It was the way you bowed your head in prayer, hands folded so delicately. It was the way you knelt before the altar, the way your fingers curled around your rosary.

And every time he saw you, every time your lashes fluttered closed, every time your lips parted to whisper scripture. He would whisper to himself, Song of Solomon 4:7.

"You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you."

Because when he looked at you, he saw something more than human.

He saw a reflection of God’s love, a testament to His creativity—flawless, untouched, pure in ways he never realized he could ache for.

He told himself it was admiration. That his heart only quickened because he saw God in you. That the warmth spreading through his chest whenever you smiled at the nuns, whenever your fingers brushed against the pages of your worn bible, was nothing but spiritual devotion.

But the more he saw you, the harder it became to believe the lie. Because you were forbidden. So untouchable it hurt.

And by the time he had a taste of your poison, by the time your lips had met his, by the time he had felt the warmth of your body pressed against him, wrapped around him. He couldn’t stop craving.

"Jake—" you whined, your voice hushed, breathless, your hands pressed against the cool tiles of the wall for balance. Your body rocked with each deep thrust, your skirt bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled aside in rushed desperation.

Here he was, buried deep inside you in the thin, suffocating space of the girls’ restroom, his hands gripping your hips, guiding you as you bounced against him. He had barely gotten them down before he was inside you. 

Jake let out a shaky breath, his forehead falling against the back of your shoulder, his hips snapping forward, a choked moan escaping his lips as your walls squeezed around him.

"D-Do you love my c-cock inside you?"  He stammered. His hands slid from your hips, traveling up, slipping beneath your uniform blouse to cup your breasts, kneading them, his thumbs rolling over your sensitive peaks as he thrust deeper.

"Answer me," he pleaded, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

A sharp gasp left your lips, your head tilting back against his shoulder as your walls clenched even tighter. "Y-Yes," you whispered, your fingers curling against the cold tile, your knees going weak.

"Say it."

"I love it, Jake," you sobbed, barely holding yourself up as he drove into you faster. "I love your cock inside me—I love it so much—"

Jake whimpered, his grip on you tightening, his entire body shuddering against yours as he lost himself again.

Nothing in this world felt holier than you. Every secret rendezvous was another prayer whispered in the dark, another moment stolen between fleeting glances and hurried footsteps, another sin sealed between trembling lips.

It was your skin against his, pressed against the cold walls of empty classrooms, hidden beneath the dim glow of flickering candlelight in the chapel, tangled in sheets that smelled of guilt and devotion.

It was your kiss—sweet and sinful, your lips brushing against his top lip before capturing him fully, pulling him under, making him forget the weight of his conscience.

It was the way your fingers found his face, tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, down to the sharp line of his jaw.

"Jake," you would whisper, your touch like a baptism, washing away the person he once was and leaving behind someone entirely yours.

Your hands never hesitated when they roamed his body, memorizing the contours of his muscles, the dip of his collarbone, the ridges of his spine. Your body molded to his, fitting perfectly, as if you had been crafted just for him.

And God, how could something that felt this right be wrong? How could he look at you and believe this was damnation?

You were not a temptation.

You were his salvation, And if this was sin—if loving you, wanting you, needing you—meant turning away from heaven, then so be it.

Because Jake had already made his choice and he would choose you every time.

"They say if you have sexual preferences, it's called a kink," Jake mused, his arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders as he stared out at the lake, watching the water ripple under the soft afternoon light.

It was a rare that the both of you escape—just the two of you, away from the suffocating walls of the university.  Here, it was quiet. Peaceful.

You hummed in amusement, leaning back against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "Hmm, I think I have a nose kink."

Jake chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "A nose kink?"

You grinned, turning to look up at him, mischief dancing in your eyes. "I love your nose," you said simply, reaching up to tap the tip of it gently with your finger. "I love how it bumps against my clit."

A giggle slipped from your lips as Jake let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, his ears tinged slightly pink.

"You're unbelievable," he murmured, pressing his chin lightly against your shoulder, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his fondness.

You shifted, wrapping your arms around his, your fingers playing with the fabric of his sleeves. "What about you? Do you have a kink?"

Jake pretended to think, his lips pursing before he finally admitted, "I love your tongue."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh?"

His smile widened, his fingers trailing lazily along your arms. "I love how soft it is when you kiss me," he said, voice dropping slightly. "I love the way it feels against my skin, how warm it is when you—"

He stopped himself, biting his lip, his cheeks darkening as he let out a flustered chuckle. "You know."

You turned fully in his embrace, resting your chin against his chest as you beamed up at him. "Say it."

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes, but there was nothing but adoration in them as he dipped his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "I love how your tongue feels when you're tasting me."

Your giggles turned into full laughter, your arms tightening around him, and he let out a breathy laugh of his own, shaking his head in defeat.

The wind rustled through the trees, the lake shimmering under the sunlight.

"Do you think God still loves us?" you asked, Jake's fingers threaded through your hair, slow and gentle, playing with your scalp as he stared out at the lake, watching the way the sunlight danced over the rippling water.

"Yes," he said, without hesitation.

You blinked, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. "How can you be so sure?"

Jake exhaled softly, his lips curling into a small, thoughtful smile. "Because love doesn’t disappear just because we fall." His gaze met yours. "God loved David even after his sins. He loved Peter even after he denied Him three times. Love isn’t something that fades because of our mistakes. It’s unconditional."

Your chest tightened at his words, at the quiet conviction in his voice.

"Then why do I still feel guilty?" you whispered, pressing your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Jake sighed, his chin resting lightly atop your head. "Because we've been taught to fear Him more than we've been taught to trust His love."

Silence stretched, only the soft rustling of trees and the distant laughter from the festival carrying through the breeze. After a moment, Jake spoke again, "but when I’m with you…" he paused, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your arm, "I feel closer to God than I ever have before."

You pulled back slightly, eyes searching his, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest. "How?"

He smiled, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead again before whispering,

"Because you are the most beautiful thing He’s ever created."

Your breath hitched, your hands tightening around his shirt as warmth bloomed in your chest.

Jake tilted his head, his lips hovering just above yours. "And if loving you is a sin…" he murmured, a teasing smile playing on his lips, "then I guess I’ll just have to keep repenting."

His hands wandered lower, tracing slow, idle patterns along your upper thigh. You shivered slightly at his touch, but it wasn’t just the sensation that made your breath hitch—it was the way his finger moved deliberately, forming letters, one by one, spelling out a single word:

"Mine."

Your lips parted, your heart stuttering in your chest as your gaze flickered up to meet his.

Jake only smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting, "I will leave the university," he said suddenly. 

Jake exhaled slowly, "I’ve realized a lot of things, and one of them is…" He hesitated, searching your face, then sighed. "I don’t think I was ever meant to be the man they wanted me to be."

Your throat tightened. "Jake—"

"Everything is okay," he reassured you, his voice firm, calming. "I don’t regret any of it. Not the prayers, not the faith—but I also don’t regret you. And if the only way to keep you is to walk away from what was never truly mine, then I’ll do it."

Your eyes glistened with unshed tears, your fingers curling around his wrists. "You would do that?"

"I would do anything for you," he muttered, "I was never meant to be a saint, and I don’t think I want to be anymore." His fingers tightened around yours, grounding himself in the warmth of your touch, in the certainty of this moment. "I just want to be yours." 

A breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding.  You swallowed, your lips parting before you whispered, "Ruth 1:16-17."

Jake tilted his head slightly, his brows raising in curiosity. You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay."

His gaze softened, warm and full of love, as if in that moment, there was nothing else in the world but you and him. Jake swallowed, his fingers tightening around yours as he whispered back, "Song of Solomon 3:4."

Your breath hitched. A sharp sting burned behind your eyes as you realized what he was saying, as the words sank into your skin, into your soul. Tears welled up, spilling onto your cheeks as he brought a trembling hand to cup your face, his thumb wiping them away.

"I have found the one whom my soul loves."

A quiet sob escaped you as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle into the deepest parts of you.

That was the day you faced the judgment of others.

Whispers followed you down the chapel halls, sharp as knives, spoken behind cupped hands and lowered eyes. You were no longer the devout girl they had known, no longer the image of purity they had placed on a pedestal.

You were cast out, stripped of the life you had once known, condemned for surrendering to the desires they warned you against. For falling, like Eve, for stepping into temptation and taking the bite that could never be undone.

But none of it mattered. Because just as Adam had followed Eve into exile, Jake followed you. It had always been him and you. It would always be him and you.

You would always choose him—religiously, faithfully.

You clutched Jake’s hand, sweat beading on your forehead, your body trembling as pain surged through you. Your body trembling with exhaustion. The midwife kneeled before you, her voice firm yet reassuring, guiding you through labored breaths as she prepared to deliver your third child.

Jake pressed a kiss to your damp temple, whispering words of encouragement, of love, his grip unwavering as he held onto you, just as he always had.

He wiped away the tears spilling from your eyes, just as he had that day by the lake, when he promised you that everything would be okay.

And as you cried out, as life pushed forward, as your body bore the proof of your love.

"You’re so strong," he murmured. "Just a little more, my love. I’m right here."

Another sharp cry left your lips, your back arching as the final push sent waves of relief crashing over you.

A baby’s cry filled the room.

A sharp, piercing sound, followed by the relieved murmurs of the midwife as she carefully wrapped the tiny, wriggling form in soft cloth. Your head fell back against the pillow, your chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. Jake’s hand trembled as he reached for you, his lips pressing against your knuckles, his gratitude unspoken but infinite.

Tiny footsteps thundered against the wooden floor.

"Mama!"

The door burst open, and two small figures ran inside, their eager little hands gripping the edges of your bedsheet.

Cain and Abel—your firstborns.

Their wide eyes shimmered with excitement; their faces flushed from running. Cain, the elder, clung to Jake’s arm, while Abel climbed onto the edge of the bed, trying to peer over your shoulder.

"Did it hurt, Mama? Are you okay?" Cain asked, his brows furrowed in concern, his little hands gripping onto Jake’s sleeve.

"It’s okay, my love," you soothed, your voice weak but filled with warmth as you reached for them. "I am okay."

Jake’s breath hitched as the midwife gently placed the newborn into his waiting arms. A soft gasp left his lips as he cradled the tiny child against his chest, his eyes glistening with tears. His fingers traced the delicate curve of the baby’s cheek, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Seth."

At the sound of his father’s voice, the newborn let out a small, sleepy whimper, tiny fists curling against Jake’s chest. Cain and Abel watched in awe; their excitement momentarily silenced as they stared at their new baby brother.

"Seth," Abel repeated softly, as if testing the name on his tongue.

"He’s so small," Cain murmured, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

Jake let out a choked laugh, pressing a kiss to Seth’s forehead before carefully settling beside you on the bed. His arm curled around your shoulders, pulling you close, his free hand still cradling your newest son. And as your children gathered around you, their voices filled with wonder.

As Jake’s lips found your forehead once more, you exhaled, a breathless, relieved sigh. You thought of Eden. Of Adam, formed from dust. Of Eve, crafted from his rib, made for him, meant to be his. The two of them had once lived untouched, unburdened, perfect in their innocence.

But love—true love—was never meant to exist without choice.

And so, they had fallen. Not out of defiance. Not out of sin. But out of love—a love so deep, so human, it had rewritten the course of existence itself.

Your body spent, your children nestled close, your husband’s arms wrapped around you as he held his world in his hands. Your tired eyes fluttered shut, as Jake pressed another soft kiss against your skin, your newborn stirred gently in his father’s arms.

Falling had never been a punishment. Because It is a gift.

perm taglist: @won4me @ikaw-at-ikaw, @kristynaaah, @fancypeacepersona @tunafishyfishylike @vvenusoncasual, @cutehoons02,

[berries-n-blues]

Deliciously filthy👁️👄👁️

GOLDEN BOY!

golden boy hard dom!Jake x masturbation addict f!reader

ENHA HARD HOURSSSSSSSSSSS 18+ MDNI: masturbation so much of it, really not suitable for work, weed smoking, temp play, filming, ass play, vibrator. this is the filthiest shit i have ever written in my life type shit. but also fluffy so its fine. plot? what plot

your mornings follow a strict routine: wake up. Ignore your alarm. Spread your legs and ruin yourself to the thought of Jake Sim. he doesn’t know you exist. star student, always on time. you stumble into class late, wrecked, barely holding it together. you get paired up for a project. when he figures out why you’re always late? you’re fucked.  literally.

You woke up soaked. Literally, fucking soaked, the sheets beneath you damp with sweat and slick from how hard you’d been grinding against them in your sleep. It was always like this—an unbearable need that gripped you before you were even fully conscious. And you knew exactly who caused it.

Jake Sim.

The moment your hazy mind conjured up his name, your pussy gave a hard throb, as if your body was starved for him. It didn’t matter that you’d never even held a real conversation. All that mattered was that he existed—perfect, unattainable—and you were so pathetically desperate for him that you’d turned it into a daily routine.

With a shaky sigh, you slid your hand under the thin waistband of your panties, fingers pressing into the sticky mess already pooling there. You hissed out a curse at how sensitive you were, thighs twitching as your digits smeared your own arousal around your clit.

“Fuck,” you whispered, voice breaking, as your eyes fluttered shut and your mind fed you the same filthy fantasies it always did. In them, Jake was every bit the cocky bastard you imagined him to be—towering over you, smirking with that lazy confidence, telling you to spread your legs wider so he could see just how ruined you were for him.

You could practically hear his voice:

“That’s it, baby. Show me how wet you are.”

A guttural moan fell from your lips. Your fingers trembled as you sank them deeper, sliding between your folds until you were massaging the swollen, throbbing knot of nerves that made your back arch off the mattress. Every movement sent sparks racing up your spine, and you chased the friction like a fucking addict—because that’s exactly what you were: addicted to the thought of him.

Your other hand fumbled for your phone, nearly dropping it on your face in your clumsy rush. The screen glowed to life, and you immediately opened that private folder. The nerve-wracking thrill of seeing your own explicit videos made your pulse throb.

Your finger hovered over the most recent one for half a second, heart hammering. Then you pressed play.

Instantly, the room filled with the ragged sounds of your recorded moans. On the screen, you were splayed out, hips rolling in a shameless rhythm as you fucked your own fingers like your life depended on it. The memory of that moment made your cheeks burn, but it also made you fucking wetter.

“Jake… please… fuck—” your recorded voice whimpered, your cheeks flushed and your tits bouncing with each thrust of your own hand.

The real you let out a choked noise, clit pulsing under your insistent fingertips. You drove them harder against your flesh, trying to match the frantic pace you’d seen in the video. A filthy squelch echoed in the room, your soaked folds giving you away, and you bit your lip to stifle a cry.

God, you were so damn desperate. It made you feel dirty as hell—and yet, you couldn’t stop. In your mind, you pictured Jake looming over you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He’d probably sneer down at you, that smug grin twisting his gorgeous mouth, telling you how pathetic you looked, cumming all over your own damn fingers just for him.

“Such a fucking slut,” you imagined him saying, and your body convulsed.

You rammed your fingers harder against your slick heat, each drag of your knuckles sending you spiraling higher. Your recorded moans continued to play on loop, mixing with your real ones until you couldn’t tell which was which. Every muscle in your body tensed, bracing for the orgasm that was cresting in your gut like a tidal wave.

“Jake,” you whimpered. It was a half-sob, half-prayer. “Jake, oh God—”

And then it hit.

Your orgasm slammed into you, white-hot and wrenching. Your hips jerked off the bed, your thighs squeezing around your hand so tightly you could barely move. A harsh, broken sound tore from your throat as your body locked up, wave after wave of bliss rippling through your core. You ground your fingers against your clit one last time, milking every second of the high until you thought you’d black out.

Finally, you collapsed, trembling, onto the mattress, breath sawing in and out of your lungs. Your vision blurred with unshed tears from the sheer intensity. Slowly, the quivering in your limbs began to subside, and you eased your damp fingers from between your legs, wincing at how oversensitive you already were.

For a moment, all you could do was lie there, the sticky remains of your orgasm coating your inner thighs, your mind still buzzing with echoes of Jake’s name. You felt disgusting, you felt euphoric—you felt alive in a way that made you crave more.

But reality crashed down the second you glanced at the time on your phone. Fifteen minutes until class started.

“Shit,” you whispered, bolting upright so fast your head spun. Your legs wobbled when you tried to stand, a dull ache centered between your legs reminding you of just how hard you’d gone. You grabbed the first hoodie you saw, yanked it over your head, and fished around for a pair of rumpled jeans from the floor. There was no time to shower, no time to even catch your breath.

As you dashed out of your room, the remnants of your orgasm still clung to your thighs, a humiliating reminder of why you were late in the first place. You couldn’t help but picture what Jake would say if he ever found out the real reason you stumbled through that lecture hall door every day, hair a mess and cheeks still flushed from your obscene morning routine.

He’d probably smirk, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

The thought made your cheeks flare with shameful heat as you tore across campus, trying not to trip over your own feet. You’d never let him find out—you were certain it would kill you. Yet, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wondered what it would be like if he did know. If he whispered filthy praise in your ear about how you were always late because you were too busy drenching your sheets for him.

Your core clenched at the mental image, and you forced yourself to shove it down. There was no time for daydreams—you were late enough as it was, and your professor was already on the verge of losing his patience with you.

Still, no matter how many times you told yourself you couldn’t keep doing this, you knew you would.

Tomorrow morning, you’d wake up soaked again, thighs trembling, and you’d inevitably plunge your fingers back into that slick warmth while moaning Jake’s name. The filthy cycle would continue, and you wouldn’t be able to stop it, because nothing else felt as good as imagining him breaking you into a moaning, dripping mess.

As you reached the lecture hall, panting and disheveled, you couldn’t help but wonder: what if—just what if—Jake Sim ever saw exactly how bad you had it for him?

But that was a thought for another day, another dirty, mind-shattering morning.

Because you both knew: this wouldn’t be the last time you came undone at the mention of his name.

-

You were already a mess when you stumbled through the lecture hall doors, breath ragged and heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat. You were late. Again. The professor’s disapproving glare followed you as you practically crashed into your usual seat in the back row, muttering a hastily whispered apology under your breath.

God, you probably looked like you’d rolled straight out of bed—which, let’s be honest, you basically had. Not that you’d been sleeping. No, you’d spent your precious morning minutes rubbing out a frantic orgasm, fueled by thoughts of Jake Sim and all the ways he could ruin you if he ever laid a hand on your needy, desperate body.

Your clit still throbbed with the memory.

You tried to steady your breathing, force your mind to focus on the lecture happening around you. But your professor’s words were just a dull roar in your ears. You caught phrases like “group project” and “semester-long assignment,” but your brain refused to process them, still half-fogged from the wave of pleasure you’d torn out of yourself not fifteen minutes ago.

Then the professor called your name.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze just in time to see that he was pairing you off with someone. The rest of the class fell silent, heads turning toward you as you awkwardly cleared your throat, cheeks warming under the sudden attention.

“Jake Sim,” the professor said, scanning the attendance sheet. “You and Jake will be partners for the entire project.”

Your entire body stiffened.

Jake Sim.

Jake fucking Sim.

Your clit gave a punishing pulse at the mere mention of his name, so strong it sent a hot jolt of need straight through your core. You barely managed to swallow a gasp, thighs clenching under the desk as if that might calm the ache.

Across the room, Jake lifted his head. He had been taking notes, or maybe doodling—hell if you knew. He looked up when he heard his name, and his eyes flicked briefly over to you. He didn’t seem particularly surprised or amused. He just…nodded. Like it was no big deal.

Meanwhile, you sat there, completely frozen, trying not to let your face betray the fact that your cunt was literally fluttering at the prospect of spending hours—hours—with him on this project. Your mind spun with a million frantic thoughts: how were you supposed to look him in the eye when you had fingered yourself that same morning while moaning his name?

You almost wanted to run.

But there was nowhere to go, and the professor’s gaze was still locked on you, waiting for some sign of acknowledgment. So you forced a nod, swallowing hard, your pulse thundering in your ears.

When class finally ended, you practically bolted up from your seat, gathering your things in a clumsy rush. All you could think about was escaping before you did something mortifying—like spontaneously combusting from the intensity of the situation.

But you weren’t fast enough.

Jake Sim stood waiting for you in the aisle. You noticed, with a sinking sensation in your stomach, that he was even taller up close, shoulders broad under that signature hoodie, a slight quirk to his full lips as he watched you fluster about.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low but clear in the post-lecture murmur. “Guess we’re partners, huh?”

Your heart just about crawled up your throat and died there. You couldn’t form coherent words. Instead, you let out some pathetic sound halfway between a squeak and a cough.

Jake’s brows rose a fraction, and that quirk at the corner of his lips deepened. “You okay?”

No. Absolutely not. Your palms were sweating, your cheeks were on fire, and your core was still buzzing with the aftereffects of your morning orgasm. Knowing he was so close—close enough to smell the faint hint of laundry detergent clinging to his hoodie—nearly made your knees buckle.

“Uh, yeah,” you managed, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Just—tired.”

“Tired,” he echoed, giving you an appraising once-over. “Rough morning?”

You swallowed, a traitorous flush creeping up your neck. He had no idea just how rough.

“Something like that,” you muttered, pretending to rummage in your backpack to avoid meeting his gaze.

Jake shrugged. “Well, we should probably figure out a time to meet up for the project. Professor wants a proposal next week.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, so…normal. Meanwhile, your head was spinning because you were about to be in a room alone with him, studying economics, while your body screamed for him to fuck you senseless.

“Uh, yeah,” you repeated, feeling like a malfunctioning robot. “We…should definitely do that.”

God, you wanted to slap yourself. Could you be any more awkward?

Jake tilted his head, brown eyes flicking over you again, a subtle curiosity in his gaze. “How about tomorrow? Afternoon?”

Tomorrow. That meant you had less than twenty-four hours to get your shit together—to not end up a quivering puddle of arousal at his feet. Less than a day to build up some sort of immunity to his existence.

But you nodded anyway, because what else could you do? “Sure. Works for me.”

He gave a little smile, just a quick curve of his mouth, but it was enough to make your stomach tighten painfully. “Cool. I’ll, uh—text you, I guess?”

“Yeah. Text. Right.”

Your tongue felt leaden and stupid, and your heart hammered wildly against your ribcage. You wondered if he could hear it—wondered if he’d notice the pulse beating in your throat or sense the way your entire body vibrated with the memory of your morning orgasm.

But Jake just nodded again, hands sliding into the pockets of his hoodie. “See you tomorrow, then.”

He turned and left, effortlessly blending into the crowd of students filtering out the door. You stood there like an idiot, your mind replaying the conversation, analyzing every second for hints of pity or amusement on his part.

He didn’t seem weirded out. Didn’t seem suspicious of why you were so…flustered. He’d probably forget about you the moment he headed to his next class.

Meanwhile, you?

You tried to breathe, leaning heavily against one of the desks as you clutched your notes to your chest. Your thighs pressed together, a pitiful attempt to quell the ache that refused to leave you alone. It was as if your body recognized him on some primal level and refused to let go of the fact that he was standing right in front of you.

He had no idea how badly you wanted him—no clue you literally jacked off to his name almost every morning, that you were always late because you were too busy chasing orgasm after orgasm in a delirious haze of lust.

Well, now you’d have to fake it—pretend that you were normal, that you weren’t some perverted mess drooling over him in secret. You just hoped you could keep it together, especially once you were locked in a study room together, going over spreadsheets and supply-demand curves while your body screamed for something entirely different.

And worst of all, you had the sinking feeling that tomorrow’s routine wouldn’t be any different. You’d probably still wake up, still stroke your throbbing clit to the thought of Jake’s voice, Jake’s hands, Jake’s cock…

But maybe, just maybe, you’d manage not to be late this time.

Fat chance.

-

Studying with Jake Sim was a fucking nightmare—in the filthiest, most torturous way possible.

He had this infuriating habit of showing up in the laziest outfits imaginable, usually some combination of sweatpants and a hoodie. You might’ve thought the casual attire would make him look approachable or less intimidating, but it only did the opposite. He wore those gray sweats like a second skin, settling into his chair with an ease that bordered on sinful. His legs spread obscenely wide, claiming space that shouldn’t be his to claim.

The hoodie was somehow worse. It clung to his broad shoulders, emphasizing the sharp line of his collarbones and the solid build of his chest. And since he always—always—rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, you were treated to the tantalizing sight of his forearms: faint veins tracing a path over lightly tanned skin, muscles shifting whenever he flexed his fingers or picked up a pen.

It drove you insane.

Every time he tilted his head in thought, his hair would slip across his forehead, drawing attention to the dark, intense eyes beneath. Sometimes he licked his lips—absently, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it—and every time it happened, a low, pulsing heat rippled through your stomach.

But the worst part? Jake had a thing for tits.

You first noticed it in the little stuff: the way his gaze drifted south whenever you leaned over your notes, the split-second hesitation in his voice if your shirt happened to be cut too low. His eyes would flick to your chest, then dart away so quickly you’d think you’d imagined it—except the slight tension in his jaw proved otherwise.

He tried to hide it. Tried to keep himself polite and focused on the assignment, but the more you studied together, the more obvious it became. He had to physically force himself not to stare, clenching his jaw or gripping his pen with a little too much force whenever your shirt shifted in just the right way.

Eventually, you decided to test him.

One night, you showed up at his place wearing a tight little tank top—no bra underneath, of course. The fabric hugged your curves, thin enough that your nipples peaked through whenever the room got too cold. You pretended to be completely oblivious, scrolling through your laptop as though there wasn’t a very obvious reason Jake’s gaze kept snagging on your chest.

His reaction was immediate. The second you walked in, his eyes darkened, pupils dilating as they betrayed his interest. He coughed, cleared his throat, and busied himself with the project notes, but he couldn’t hide the subtle tremor in his voice when he asked, “So, um, ready to start?”

You dragged a chair up to the small desk, taking care to sit opposite him so he’d have an unobstructed view. For a while, you both pretended to work—typing away, sorting through textbooks, exchanging random facts about supply and demand. But every time you spoke, his attention drifted down, no matter how hard he tried to stay focused on your face.

Your heart pounded every time you caught him looking. Desire coiled low in your belly, and your nipples tightened beneath the thin fabric, practically begging for him to notice. Your entire body thrummed with this heady mixture of confidence and need, and you couldn’t help but push it further.

“Ugh, it’s so hot in here,” you sighed dramatically, arching your back to stretch. The movement sent your breasts straining against the tank top, and you saw Jake’s jaw clench, the tendons in his neck standing out as he forced himself not to stare directly at you.

He tried to keep his cool, but his next words came out more clipped than usual. “I can open the window.”

You shrugged, letting the straps of the tank top slide a fraction of an inch down your shoulder. “Nah,” you said, voice laced with feigned innocence. “Don’t worry about it.”

The tension in the air was palpable, an almost electric charge crackling between you. Your thighs pressed together beneath the desk, desperate for some kind of friction. You could practically feel his gaze lingering on your chest when you looked away, fueling that simmering warmth between your legs.

Finally, Jake snapped.

“You do that shit on purpose, don’t you?” he muttered, voice pitched low and tight enough to send shivers skittering down your spine.

You fought the smirk threatening to curve your lips. Your stomach flipped with excitement and arousal. “Do what?” you asked, feigning obliviousness, even though your heart was about to hammer out of your chest.

He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking to the tank top that was barely containing your chest. “You know what,” he ground out, then made a visible effort to calm himself, dragging his gaze to your face.

It took everything in you not to let out a triumphant laugh. You could see the frustration warring with desire in his dark eyes, saw the way his fingers curled into fists as if he had to physically restrain himself. There was a fine tremor in his forearms—those fucking forearms—that made your insides clench with a perverse satisfaction.

Your own arousal pulsed, nipples practically aching as they brushed against the fabric. There was this suffocating urge to crawl into his lap, to press your tits against his chest and see just how fast you could break that composure. But you held back. Because that wasn’t the plan. Not yet.

“I’m just trying to study,” you said, tone as sweet as sugar, batting your eyelashes in an overdone performance of innocence.

Jake’s stare hardened, and for a moment, you thought he might say something brash—something that would make the air sizzle. But he merely set his jaw, took a long, measured breath, and turned back to the notes.

“Right. Study,” he mumbled, jaw working like he was trying to chew through nails.

You bit your lip to smother a grin, your pulse still thrumming in your ears from the pure, uncut tension between you. Your nipples were so stiff they practically throbbed; you had to shift in your seat to accommodate the constant, nagging ache in your core.

Nothing else happened that night—no heated kisses, no tangled limbs—but it didn’t need to. The filth was already there, simmering beneath every glance, every roll of his shoulders, every suppressed flick of his gaze toward your tits. You could sense the unspoken hunger radiating off him like heat waves, matching the relentless heartbeat pounding in your own chest.

And that was more than enough to leave you soaking by the time you finally left.

-

You woke up with a pounding need at the base of your spine. It was deeper than usual, an ache that gnawed at you relentlessly, demanding satisfaction. The worst part? You already knew exactly who you were going to picture to take the edge off:

Jake Sim.

Every nerve in your body thrummed with anticipation, remembering the way he’d looked at you during your last study session—eyes flickering from your face down to your chest, jaw clenched like he was fighting some internal battle. You’d left his dorm with slick thighs and your mind racing, your entire body aflame.

Today, you wanted to push your usual routine even further. Your fingers alone wouldn’t cut it. With your teeth worrying your bottom lip, you slipped out of bed and rummaged through your nightstand until your hand closed around the small, discreet vibrator you’d impulsively bought a few weeks ago. It was sleek, silicone-coated, made for exactly the kind of play you were craving.

You bit back a trembling sigh and grabbed your phone, propping it against a pillow at the foot of your bed. The little red light began to blink, capturing you in all your messy, unmade-bed glory—hair tangled, cheeks still carrying the warmth of sleep, and a fiercely determined look in your eyes.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whispered, half to yourself, half to the imaginary version of Jake you conjured whenever you got off.

But you didn’t hesitate. You shed your oversized T-shirt, tossing it aside to expose bare skin. Your nipples peaked in the cool air, and you ran a hand over one breast, giving it a light squeeze before trailing your palm down over your stomach. You settled into the pillows, propping your hips up slightly so the camera had a perfect view.

“Jake,” you murmured, letting your thighs fall apart, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your free hand teased your clit, already slick with arousal, while the other clutched the vibrator. The buzzing anticipation in your veins intensified as you clicked it on, feeling the soft hum rattle against your palm.

Normally, you’d sink it straight into your cunt, but today, you were craving something more depraved. Your breath hitched at the thought of that taboo stretch you barely ever indulged—your ass. The mere idea of Jake guiding it inside you, watching you squirm as you took it deeper, was enough to send a fresh gush of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, heart hammering as you angled the toy behind you. “Jake, I want you…want you here.”

Carefully, you smeared your own wetness over the silicone, letting your middle finger gather some of the slick so it’d slide in smoothly. A gasp broke from your throat the moment you pressed the vibrator’s tip to that tight ring of muscle—just the tiniest bit of pressure made your nerves light up like a live wire.

You couldn’t help the shameless moan that echoed off your bedroom walls. Even though it was just the tip, the sensation had you delirious. You spread your cheeks with one hand, guiding the buzzing silicone in a fraction of an inch, your body tensing and then relaxing around it. A ragged whine tore from your lips.

You could almost feel Jake’s hands there, big and warm, whispering filth in your ear:

“Relax. You can take it. Just like that—fuck, look at you…”

Your other hand found your clit, rubbing messy circles that turned your moans into broken sobs of pleasure. Each slow push of the vibrator inched deeper, stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll back.

“Nngh—Jake, please,” you babbled, voice shaking as you tried to push it just a bit further. “Wish it was your cock…wish you’d pin me down and shove it all the way in…”

You couldn’t hold back. The pressure and vibration melded into something explosive, your clit throbbing under your frantic fingertips. Every muscle in your body coiled tighter, lungs seizing as you hovered on the precipice. The camera recorded it all—the sweat beading at your temples, the flushed curve of your cheeks, the wet, filthy sounds filling the room.

Then it hit. Your orgasm came crashing down, ripping a strangled scream from your throat. Your legs shook, your ass clamping around the toy, your cunt pulsing in sympathy. You writhed against the sheets, half-blinded by the force of it, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming relief.

It felt like forever before you could breathe again, the buzz in your nerves slowly receding. You eased the vibrator out, wincing at the hyper-sensitivity, then stopped the recording with a trembling hand. On the screen, the thumbnail showed a glimpse of you with your mouth open in a silent cry, body arched off the bed, pure rapture etched on your face.

Fuck. If Jake ever saw that…

But there wasn’t time for guilt or second thoughts. A glance at the clock made your heart plummet—it was late, and you had to scramble to get to class before your professor threatened to fail you for tardiness. Again.

You only managed a quick wipe-down, barely rinsing the toy and tossing it in a drawer, before you yanked on clothes and sprinted out the door, phone still warm in your pocket from the video you’d just recorded.

The lecture hall was already half-full when you snuck in. You found your seat, cheeks still hot from both the run across campus and the memory of the vibrator filling your ass less than an hour ago. You avoided Jake’s eyes completely, which was easy because he was focused on the front of the class—though you could still feel the tension that seemed to magnetize you whenever he was close.

Throughout the lesson, your mind wandered, replaying the moment of penetration, the hum of the toy, the fantasy of Jake’s hands gripping your hips. You clenched your thighs under the desk, wishing you could burn the images out of your head.

Little did you know, in just a few hours, your world would implode in the filthiest way imaginable.

That evening, you met Jake for a study session in his dorm. The room was small but cozy, a lived-in space with a single bed in the corner, textbooks piled on the floor. He greeted you at the door, wearing a fitted T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders in a way that made your pulse flutter.

“Hey,” he said, stepping aside so you could walk in. “Let’s try to knock out the rest of the research tonight.”

You nodded stiffly, mouth dry. You were always too aware of him—his scent, the way the muscle in his jaw worked when he concentrated, the slight furrow of his brows. It didn’t help that you’d spent your morning taking a vibrator in your ass, moaning his name like you were possessed.

You settled at the small desk with your laptop, while Jake sat on the bed flipping through a shared Google Doc on his phone. The tension was thick enough to taste. Sometimes you swore you caught him watching you from the corner of his eye, but every time you glanced over, he was scrolling or typing, expression neutral.

After about twenty minutes, the soda you’d chugged on your way over came back to haunt you. You needed the bathroom—badly.

“I’ll be right back,” you muttered, closing your laptop’s lid but not fully locking it. Nerves and bladder pressure made you forget the simplest precaution: you’d left a minimized window open from transferring your new “vibrator video” into your private folder.

Jake just nodded. “Sure. Down the hall, last door on the left.”

You slipped out of the dorm, heart still fluttering, mind on autopilot. The hallway was dimly lit, and you disappeared into the bathroom, exhaling a relieved sigh once the door clicked shut.

Alone in the room, Jake glanced at your laptop, noticing the faint glow beneath the lid. Curiosity—mixed with something deeper—bubbled in his chest. He’d been suspecting something was up with you, ever since you arrived late looking thoroughly wrecked every morning. The tension you carried around him was obvious, and he’d caught glimpses of…subtle clues.

With a swift move, he lifted the laptop’s lid. The screen flickered back to life, revealing a folder half-tucked behind your research notes. A folder labeled something simple, but ominous: “Private.”

He should’ve stopped. Should’ve told himself it was none of his business. But a stubborn, electric thrill spurred him to open it. A series of video files stared back at him, each with a plain name—things like “Vid001,” “Vid002.” And the most recent one? Time-stamped that morning.

His heart thudded. He clicked on it.

What loaded made his blood run hot.

You. Naked. Bent back on your bed with a vibrator in your ass, face scrunched up in a mix of pain and pleasure as you eased it deeper. The audio kicked in, and Jake’s eyes went wide when he heard your moans:

“Jake…God, I want you so deep in me…wanna be stretched by your cock…”

His pulse roared in his ears. The image on the screen was so explicit it felt like a punch to the gut. You whimpered, back arched, your hand working your clit with desperate speed, all while the vibrator buzzed between your spread cheeks. And the filthy things you were saying—how you wanted him to shove it all the way in, how you wished it was his cock instead of cold silicone.

Jake’s cock twitched in his pants, heat pooling low in his gut. He watched, transfixed, as your face contorted in a mind-blowing orgasm, your body jerking, thighs trembling. You were screaming his name through it all.

A low, shaky exhalation left his lips. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure, he’d suspected you had some kind of thing for him, but this? This was on another level. You were a wrecked, filthy, ass-play-obsessed mess, and all of it was for him.

He paused the video at the peak of your orgasm, hand nearly trembling with adrenaline. Blood pounded in his ears, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Part of him wanted to keep watching, to see every second of your depravity, but he had to be quick. You’d be back any minute.

With an almost reverent care, he closed out of the folder and gently lowered the laptop’s lid. Then he dragged in a ragged breath, trying to get his heart rate under control.

His mind raced. You were a shy presence at times, stumbling over words, blushing whenever he looked at you too long. Yet behind closed doors, you were filming yourself stretching your ass with a vibrator, moaning his name like he was the only person in the world.

Jake could barely contain the predatory thrill that coursed through him. He tried to shove the arousal down, adjusting his position on the bed so he didn’t look painfully hard if you walked in that second. But there was no ignoring the fact that everything had changed.

You had no idea what you’d just handed him, and Jake was more than ready to see how you’d squirm now that he had proof of just how desperately you wanted him.

-

You barely made it through class without combusting.

Your skin felt too hot, every nerve in your body on edge, a lingering burn still coiled between your thighs from the morning’s routine. As if that wasn’t bad enough, every time Jake so much as shifted in his seat, your body reacted—trained by weeks, months, of late mornings spent getting yourself off to the very thought of him.

And then, class ended.

The moment you stepped into the hall, still shaken, still barely holding it together, Jake was waiting for you.

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking infuriatingly calm while you felt like you were on the verge of collapsing. His dark eyes flicked over you, a slow drag, lingering just long enough to make your stomach tighten. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was studying you, examining you, as if piecing together a puzzle that had finally clicked into place.

A slow curl of heat unfurled in your belly. Something about the way he held your gaze, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, made you feel exposed. Laid bare.

Something was wrong.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, breath uneven as you tried to keep your face neutral. “What?” you asked, attempting to sound indifferent, but your voice betrayed you, cracking slightly on the single word.

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch, dragging his tongue over his lower lip in thought. His fingers twitched against his arms where they were crossed over his chest, and his gaze dipped lower—not just over your body, but like he was seeing straight through you.

Your stomach clenched. He knew something.

“Didn’t sleep well?” he finally asked, voice deceptively casual.

Your heart lurched. He was playing with you.

You forced yourself to scoff. “What are you talking about?”

Jake hummed, tilting his head slightly, and your stomach sank at the knowing glint in his eyes. You felt yourself locking up, body screaming at you to flee, but it was too late.

“I wonder…” he mused, tapping his fingers against his arm. “Is that why you’re always late?”

The world tilted beneath you.

Your throat closed, fingers twitching at your sides, because he didn’t say it like an accusation—he said it like a revelation.

Jake took a step closer, and you swore your knees almost buckled.

“You’re always late,” he murmured, voice smooth as sin, laced with amusement. He tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “Always looking like you’ve just been fucked.”

Your breath hitched. Your pulse roared in your ears.

“What—” Your voice barely worked, caught between panic and something even deeper—something raw, electric, dangerous.

Jake’s lips curved, dark amusement flashing across his face. “You get off before class, don’t you?”

Your entire body went up in flames. Your thighs clenched so tightly that you swore he could see it, see the way his words wrecked you from the inside out.

Jake didn’t wait for you to answer. He already knew. He had proof.

The realization crashed into you like a truck. The video.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your laptop. The folder. The fucking recording from that morning.

The vibrator. The way you moaned his name. The way you begged for it to be him.

Jake had seen it.

Oh my god.

He had fucking seen it.

A low chuckle vibrated from deep in his chest, his lips twitching upward at the sheer horror that must have been written all over your face. His eyes darkened, filling with something lethal, something triumphant.

And then came the final blow—the words that shattered you, sent that familiar ache between your legs into something unbearable.

“You could’ve just asked me to help, baby.”

Your stomach dropped. Your knees almost buckled.

You were done for.

The world tilted on its axis. Everything else around you—the bustling students, the muffled sounds of conversations, the faint scraping of chairs against tile—blurred into meaningless background noise. All that existed was him. His smirk. His words. The absolute certainty in his voice that left no room for denial.

Your mouth opened, some kind of weak protest forming on your tongue, but Jake moved closer, shutting you down before you even had a chance to breathe. His presence was overwhelming, his body heat radiating off him like a furnace, his scent—clean, musky, laced with something so distinctly him—filling your senses, making your knees weak.

“You get off before class,” he repeated, softer this time, almost teasing, like he was savoring the confession he had yet to hear from your own lips. His voice dropped lower, becoming something dark, possessive. “And you think about me when you do it, don’t you?”

Your lungs seized. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

Jake tilted his head, studying you, watching the way your fingers twitched at your sides, the way your lips parted in a silent gasp, the way your thighs pressed together instinctively—as if that would do anything to stop the inevitable, the brutal ache between your legs that he had just made ten times worse.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” His voice was smooth, dripping with mocking confidence, because he knew you couldn’t.

Your brain scrambled for an escape. For an excuse. For anything that might get you out of this, because if you admitted it—if you said it out loud—there would be no turning back. You’d be his. Completely. Utterly.

Jake was too close now, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear, his tone taunting. “What is it, baby?” His fingers ghosted along your wrist, not quite touching but close enough to drive you insane. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you too busy thinking about the way you spread your legs for me every morning?”

Your breath left you in a shattered gasp.

You shouldn’t have reacted. You knew better. But your body betrayed you—your thighs clenched harder, your nipples tightened under the thin fabric of your shirt, your entire core clenched around nothing, desperate for the friction you had been denying yourself all class.

Jake saw it. He saw everything.

He chuckled, voice dark and satisfied. “Oh, you really are a filthy little thing, aren’t you?”

Your body burned.

Jake smirked. His fingers—strong, veined, perfect—finally reached you, just the barest brush of his knuckle against the inside of your wrist, but it sent a violent shudder through you.

And now, he fucking knew it.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said smoothly, turning away like he hadn’t just left you a trembling, soaking mess in the middle of the hallway.

-

You spent the entire day in a state of absolute wreckage.

After Jake’s confrontation in the hallway, after his words had wrapped around you like a noose, you had barely functioned. Your thoughts were a mess, your body useless, stuck in a constant loop of shame, arousal, and anticipation. He had seen it. He had seen you—spread out, stuffed full, moaning his name like a desperate, filthy thing. And now, tonight, you had to face him again.

Your stomach flipped violently as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, gripping the sink, forcing yourself to take slow, measured breaths.

You had to get it together. You had to act like you weren’t already falling apart before you even stepped into his dorm.

But the problem was—you were. You so were.

The moment you let your mind wander, it all came rushing back. Jake’s voice, low and taunting. His gaze, dark and knowing. The way his fingers had hovered so close to your skin, how he had whispered filth into your ear like he already owned you.

And now, tonight, he would.

Your breath shuddered. Your thighs clenched.

You couldn’t go to him like this, already weak and needy. You needed to take the edge off, just enough to think clearly, just enough to face him without completely unraveling the second he looked at you.

Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts before you could think twice.

You sighed, the relief instant as your fingers slid through the ridiculous mess between your legs. You were soaked, soaked, had been all day. It was humiliating, how little it took. The heat, the tension, the memory of him catching you—it had left you dripping, thighs sticky and aching since the moment he walked away from you in that hallway.

But tonight, you needed more than your fingers.

Your eyes flicked to the cool bathroom sink, and your breath hitched.

You turned around, hands bracing against the counter, angling yourself just right before slipping your fingers behind you, dragging them through your folds from the back, teasing your entrance in a way that made your legs tremble.

A gasp ripped from your throat as you pressed two fingers inside, stretching yourself open while your hips rocked forward, grinding your clit against the cold, smooth porcelain. The sensation was overwhelming—the deep, slow stretch inside you paired with the delicious friction against your swollen, aching clit.

“F-Fuck,” you whimpered, forehead pressing against the mirror as you humped the sink, fingering yourself deeper, imagining it was Jake standing behind you, one big hand on your hip, the other sliding down between your legs to keep you in place while he filled you up.

Your breath came ragged, hips stuttering, thighs quivering as you rode the edge, grinding your clit down harder, fucking your fingers deeper, thinking about how Jake would hold you still, how he’d groan against your ear, whispering, “You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

Your stomach tightened, the orgasm coiling, building, about to—

And then your phone buzzed.

You froze.

Your heart stopped. Your stomach plummeted. Your fingers stilled immediately, guilt crashing over you in suffocating waves.

You scrambled for your phone, unlocking it with shaking hands.

Jake: Don’t. Touch. Yourself.

Your blood ran cold.

You swallowed, staring at the text, heart pounding as another one came through.

Jake: You’ll do that when you’re here.

Your breath left you in a shaky exhale, thighs clenching involuntarily at the absolute authority in his words. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could only sit there, fingers still buried inside yourself, aching, trembling, waiting.

Then—

Jake: And when you get here? You’re going to show me just how much you need it.

Your entire body shuddered.

Your clit pulsed beneath your untouched folds, but you didn’t dare move. Not now. Not when you were seconds away from finishing, and Jake had just ripped that privilege away from you.

Another text buzzed onto the screen.

Jake: If you’re even a second late, I’ll make you wait even longer.

You swallowed a whimper. You had to go. Now.

Your legs felt like they barely worked as you stumbled up from the sink, heart hammering, stomach twisting into knots of frustration, anticipation, arousal so thick you could choke on it.

You had no idea how you were going to survive this night.

-

You hesitated outside Jake’s door, hands clammy, thighs pressed together so tightly it almost hurt.

Your body wasn’t over it.

Not even close.

The bathroom incident had left you on the brink, your body still buzzing, still needy, still aching for something you weren’t allowed to have until you stepped inside. You could still feel it—the cool sink against your clit, the way your own fingers had stretched you open from behind, the way Jake’s texts had snapped you back to reality at the worst possible moment.

And now you were here.

You wiped your palms on your thighs, forced yourself to breathe, forced yourself to knock even though every part of you screamed run.

The door opened almost immediately.

Jake stood there, leaning against the frame, one hand braced above his head, the other resting casually in the pocket of his sweatpants. His eyes raked over you, scanning your body like he already knew what kind of state you were in.

Like he could smell it on you.

You swallowed hard, barely holding back a whimper.

“Come in.”

His voice was smooth, deep, dripping with something dangerous. He stepped aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze past him. The second you moved, his hand brushed against your lower back—a simple touch, barely even there, but it felt like a brand.

Your breath hitched.

The door clicked shut behind you.

You were alone with him now.

The air felt thick, suffocating, charged. You could hear your own pulse pounding in your ears, the faint sound of your breath coming in quick, uneven puffs. Your nerves were a mess, anticipation tangling with embarrassment because—

You knew why you were here.

And so did Jake.

You took a shaky step forward, barely processing the way Jake moved behind you. Slow. Calculated.

“So,” he murmured, the heat of his breath suddenly right at your ear. “Are you gonna tell me how close you were?”

Your entire body seized up.

He wasn’t touching you—not yet—but his presence alone was suffocating, pressing against you like a heavy weight.

You licked your lips, swallowed hard. “W-what?”

Jake chuckled.

“Don’t play dumb, baby.” His fingers ghosted over your hip, just enough to make you tremble. “I told you not to touch yourself. And yet…”

You sucked in a breath as his other hand trailed up, dragging two fingers over your exposed throat, pressing just lightly enough that your head tipped back on instinct.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Your thighs clenched.

His touch was barely there but it was too much. Too much, because you were already soaked, already aching, already at the point where you’d do anything—

But he wasn’t giving it to you.

Not yet.

Instead, he pressed his fingers just a little more firmly against your throat, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to look at him. His dark eyes held yours, and the corner of his mouth curled.

“Be honest with me.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your thighs.

Jake’s fingers brushed down your throat, slow, teasing, until they rested just beneath your collarbone. His thumb dragged lower, just barely dipping beneath the neckline of your shirt.

You could barely breathe.

You shouldn’t have been this turned on just from a few words. Just from the way his thumb traced your skin, from the way he was looking at you like he already owned you.

But then he leaned in, so fucking close, lips just barely brushing against your ear as he whispered—

“How close were you when I told you to stop?”

A whimper escaped you before you could stop it.

Jake groaned, low and satisfied. His fingers tightened, just enough to make your breath catch, just enough to make your body scream for more.

“I bet you were close.” His breath was hot, his tone mocking. “I bet you were right there, fingers dripping, about to make a mess of yourself.”

You bit your lip hard enough to sting, trying to stop the truth from slipping out.

Because if he knew the full truth—if he knew what you’d actually been doing—

Grinding against the bathroom sink, rubbing your clit against the cool porcelain like some desperate, shameless thing—

You’d die on the spot.

Jake must have sensed it. Felt it. Because his fingers curled against your chin, tilting your face up. His eyes searched yours, his smirk deepening, his voice dropping even lower.

“What else?”

Your pulse skipped. “W-what?”

His lips nearly brushed yours. “You were doing more than just touching yourself, weren’t you?”

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Your silence was a dead giveaway.

Jake chuckled, dark and knowing. His grip on your chin tightened. “Tell me.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I—I…” The words got stuck in your throat.

His smirk widened. “You’re gonna say it out loud, baby. Or I’ll make you.”

Your breath shook, your entire body on the verge of collapse. You wanted to fight it, wanted to pretend you still had some dignity left, but Jake’s gaze was relentless.

And he wouldn’t let you go until you gave him what he wanted.

A deep, humiliating heat spread over your body as you finally whispered, “I—I was…grinding against the sink.”

Jake inhaled sharply, his entire body going still.

His grip on your chin tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—just processed what you’d just admitted.

Then, slowly, so deliberately that it made your stomach flip, he let out a low, dark chuckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his free hand flexing at his side. “That’s what you were doing?”

You nodded weakly, shame pooling in your stomach.

Jake exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching, and suddenly, his hand slid from your chin to your throat, holding you there—not squeezing, just keeping you still.

“You’re a filthy little thing, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Jake smirked, something dangerous flashing in his gaze, something calculated.

“You’re gonna show me,” he murmured. “Later.”

Your breath hitched.

“And I’m gonna take a video.”

Your knees nearly gave out.

Jake sat back on his bed, legs spread wide, leaning against the headboard with an ease that only made the situation worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it. His hoodie was gone, discarded somewhere in the room, leaving nothing but smooth, bare skin, the sharp lines of his collarbones, the toned muscles of his chest, and the faintest trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.

But what really ruined you was the bulge straining against the soft fabric of his grey sweats.

It was… big. Heavy. Obscene. The kind of size that made your stomach clench with something dangerously close to desperation. He wasn’t even touching himself, wasn’t even adjusting—just sitting there, watching you like he had all the time in the world.

And then he did something that made your breath stutter.

He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone, unlocking it with a single flick before tilting his head at you, smirk lazy, expectant.

“I’m filming this,” he murmured, voice dripping with authority. “Start stripping.”

Your stomach flipped.

Your body burned.

You should have hesitated—should have felt embarrassed, should have tried to argue—but the only thing you felt was a deep, thrilling pulse between your legs.

You didn’t even question it.

Your hands moved before your brain caught up, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt, peeling it up slowly, dragging it over your stomach, higher, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing him. The air felt thick, charged, electric as you bared more skin, the camera recording every second.

Jake hummed approvingly. “Good girl. Keep going.”

The shirt hit the floor. You reached for your shorts next, hooking your thumbs into the waistband, dragging them down inch by inch, knowing exactly how much of a show you were giving him.

By the time you stood before him, stripped down to nothing but your soaked panties, Jake’s smirk had sharpened into something dangerous.

“Lose those too,” he ordered, tilting the phone slightly to capture your every movement.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t stop.

You slid your hands down, curling your fingers beneath the waistband, peeling them down agonizingly slow, letting the fabric drag over your thighs before stepping out of them completely.

Now you were bare.

Jake exhaled through his nose, pleased. His free hand dragged over his own thigh, fingers flexing, his grip tightening the moment you stepped forward, fully exposed, completely his.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Let me see what you do when you think about me.”

You obeyed instantly, trailing your fingers over your stomach, your thighs, your hips—everywhere but where you needed it most. Your breath came in slow, teasing gasps as you let your fingers finally slip lower, grazing your clit, a sharp whimper escaping as you made contact with the aching heat between your legs.

Jake groaned, the sound low, filthy.

“Louder.”

You whimpered, fingers pressing deeper, moving slower, dragging the pleasure out just to tease him, just to see how long he’d let you keep control.

“Louder,” he said again, voice darker this time. “I want to hear every filthy little sound you make.”

Something inside you snapped.

You moaned. Loudly.

Then again. And again.

It was like you couldn’t stop. The moment the first shameless, desperate noise slipped past your lips, your mouth wouldn’t close, your voice wouldn’t stop spilling every thought you had.

“Jake—fuck—I think about you all the time—”

Your fingers slid deeper, your hips rocking into the pressure.

“I think about your hands, how big they are, how rough they’d feel on me—”

Jake let out a low, ragged groan, his fingers twitching against the bed.

“I think about your mouth, how you’d ruin me with it, how you’d hold me still and make me take it—”

Your breath hitched as you spread your legs wider, rubbing yourself faster, your mind a mess of filth.

“I think about your cock,” you gasped, your fingers slick, sliding in and out shamelessly. “How big it is, how you’d stretch me open, how you’d fill me so fucking deep—”

Jake exhaled sharply, his jaw locked, his knuckles turning white against his thigh.

Then, in an instant, he moved.

You barely had time to react before his hand wrapped around your throat, gripping firm, dominant, unrelenting as he dragged you forward. Your breath caught, a choked gasp escaping as he pulled you right into his lap, forcing you to straddle him, the heat of his body pressing against you.

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.

“Stop pretending,” he growled, his breath hot against your lips, his other hand pushing between your thighs, feeling how soaked you were. “You want to act like a shy little thing? Like you’re so innocent?”

His fingers dragged through your slick, making you tremble, making you whimper as your hands gripped his shoulders for support.

“Enough of that.” His thumb pressed against your throat, tilting your head back, his gaze dark, dangerous. “Start acting like the filthy little slut you actually are.”

Something in you broke open.

You whimpered, thighs clenching, your fingers digging into his skin as your hips rolled forward, grinding against his sweatpants, against the huge, heavy bulge pressing against you.

Jake groaned, his grip on your throat flexing, his lips twitching into something darkly amused as you completely fell apart for him.

“There she is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted.”

Your mouth ran wild, the words spilling before you could stop them—

“I want you to ruin me, Jake—”

You rocked against him, panting, desperate, his hand tight in your hair now, keeping you in place, making you take it.

“Want you to spread me open—make me take every inch of you—”

Jake groaned, low and wrecked, his hands gripping your hips, holding you against him as you rubbed yourself raw against his cock, soaking his sweatpants with how desperate you were.

You did exactly that.

You pulled your fingers out, spreading your slick between them, before shifting positions—

Turning around.

Bending over.

Spreading yourself open for him.

A sharp, gritted curse came from behind you.

Jake’s fingers flexed against his thigh, his entire body going rigid as he took in the sight before him—your ass up, your fingers teasing at your entrance, the shameless, dripping mess you were making of yourself.

He let out a slow, heavy breath, one that sounded so ragged, so fucking strained, that you almost moaned just from hearing it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, voice low, wrecked.

And that was the moment you knew.

Jake was going to destroy you.

Jake let the silence stretch, let the weight of his gaze sink into you, let you feel just how much he was holding back—barely.

You were still bent over in front of him, still spreading yourself wide, still waiting, dripping, panting, desperate, while he sat back and took his time.

His voice, low, rough, taunting:

“You think this is how I’d fuck you?”

Your stomach plummeted.

Jake exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his jaw before shaking his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

“That’s cute, baby,” he murmured, shifting forward until you could feel his heat against you, his presence looming over your back, his breath hitting your spine.

But then—

He grabbed your hips, both hands firm, controlling, and yanked you back against him. Your breath hitched, a choked gasp slipping from your lips at the sudden contact—your bare, slick heat pressing against the thick, hard outline of his cock.

Jake groaned, low, deep, wrecked, his fingers tightening, his chest heaving as he held you there, perfectly still, completely at his mercy.

“First mistake,” he muttered, voice rough against your ear. “You wouldn’t be in charge of how fast or slow I fuck you. That’s my job.”

A shudder ran through you, your hands clenching against the sheets as Jake’s grip ground you against him, making you feel every inch of his cock through his sweatpants.

“Second mistake?” he continued, dragging his fingers over the curve of your ass, featherlight, teasing. “You think I’d let you touch yourself first?”

Your breath caught as his hand moved lower, closer, his touch just barely skimming over your soaked entrance, not enough, not even close, just a tease.

His fingers—elegant, veined, strong—dragged through your slick, gathering it, smearing it over you, spreading you open, making you tremble.

“I’d have you like this first,” Jake murmured, voice silk and gravel, his breath hitting the nape of your neck as his fingers teased, circled, prodded, but never gave you what you needed. “Dripping. Begging.”

His fingers brushed over your tight, untouched entrance, slicking it up with your own mess, and you whimpered, hips jolting forward on instinct, trying to escape the sensation—

But Jake just chuckled.

“Oh?” His tone was mocking, amused. “That got your attention?”

Your whole body seized, heat flaming through your spine, burning at your core, because—

He was still teasing your ass.

Just barely, just the pad of his fingertip, smearing your slick in slow, lazy circles, pressing, nudging, teasing, but not pushing inside.

And he wasn’t letting you run from it.

His free hand pressed into your lower back, keeping you right where he wanted you, keeping you spread, exposed, open.

“You think about this too?” he murmured, voice dark, edged with pure sin. “You think about my fingers stretching you out?”

Your throat closed, your body burning, your breath hitching in a desperate, humiliated whimper, because—

Yes.

Yes, you did.

Jake chuckled, pleased, tilting his head as if piecing it all together.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his fingertip pressing just a little more insistently, not pushing in yet, just teasing, just threatening to. “You should’ve seen yourself.”

Your pulse pounded.

“I bet you don’t even know how messy you looked,” he continued, mocking, condescending. “Whimpering, drooling all over your pillow, fucking yourself open for me.”

Your entire body jerked, because you knew exactly what video he was talking about.

Jake just laughed under his breath, slow, deliberate, dragging it out.

“I don’t even think you knew what you were saying, baby,” he murmured, voice almost affectionate, like he was reminiscing. “Kept whining about how you wished it was my cock stretching you open, stuffing you full.”

A wrecked, desperate moan tore from your throat before you could stop it.

Jake groaned, low, pleased.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

His finger pressed harder, circling, coaxing, never giving you enough—just teasing, just pushing your body past what it thought it could take.

His other hand moved.

His fingers found your clit, pinching, rolling, flicking over the swollen bud with zero mercy.

You gasped, your legs nearly giving out, your moan high, broken, utterly wrecked.

Jake groaned at the sound, his own restraint hanging by a thread, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Stick your tongue out,” he ordered, voice deep, commanding.

You barely had time to process the words before your mouth obeyed, tongue slipping out, slick and needy, desperate for whatever he’d give you.

Jake exhaled through his nose, satisfied.

He shoved his fingers inside your mouth.

You whined, head tilting back as he pressed deeper, letting you taste the salt of his skin, letting you soak them, letting you understand exactly what he was about to do.

“Suck,” he murmured, and you did, your lips wrapping around his fingers, your tongue laving over them, your moans vibrating through your chest.

Jake cursed under his breath, his cock twitching hard beneath his sweatpants, his control hanging on by a fucking thread.

He pulled his fingers out, slick, wet, dripping with your spit.

And then he shoved that same finger inside you.

Your whole body jerked, your breath stuttering, your mind blanking completely as the wet stretch burned, as your body took him, clenched around him, pulled him deeper.

Jake groaned, his free hand slamming onto your lower back, keeping you still, forcing you to take it.

“God,” he muttered, voice strained. “Look at you.”

His finger slid deeper, fucking into you, spreading you open, filling you slowly, deliberately, ruining you.

“You were made for this, weren’t you?” he murmured. “Made to be filled.”

Your moans shattered, your legs trembling, your hands gripping the sheets, your whole body unraveling under him.

Jake just smirked, watching you come apart.

“That’s okay, baby,” he murmured, his lips curling against your ear. “I’m gonna make sure you take it better than that next time.”

Your stomach dropped.

Next time.

Jake just smirked.

“Oh,” he murmured, voice lethal. “And don’t forget—I’m filming the next one.”

Jake had had enough.

Enough of teasing, enough of waiting, enough of holding back while you squirmed, while you whimpered, while you dripped all over yourself without him even needing to try.

Now he was going to ruin you.

His fingers slid out of you slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch of the slick drag, letting your body clench around nothing, aching, desperate for more.

You whined, shifting, pushing back instinctively, chasing friction, but Jake’s hands were already on you, pushing you down, flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

Before you could even catch your breath, he was on you.

His grip locked onto your thighs, spreading you wide, forcing your legs apart so you had no choice but to bare yourself to him completely.

Your pulse roared in your ears.

Jake exhaled slowly, his eyes dark, hungry, his gaze locked onto the messy, dripping heat between your legs.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself, his fingers flexing against your thighs, holding you open like you belonged to him.

Your stomach flipped. Your breath hitched. Your body throbbed.

“Be a good girl and show me how bad you want it.”

Your brain blanked.

You knew what he meant. Knew he was testing you. Knew he wanted to see if you were still pretending, still holding back, still playing shy when you were already dripping for him.

He would stop.

He would kick you out.

His voice was low, slow, unforgiving when he spoke again. “If you don’t act like the whore I know you are, I’m gonna stop. And I’m gonna make you leave.”

Your breath shattered.

The weight of his words hit you like a slap to the face.

No more hesitation. No more nerves. No more pretending.

Your whole body flushed hot, heat spreading from your cheeks down to your core as you swallowed your pride, swallowed your shame, and did exactly what he asked.

You let your thighs fall even wider, your hands sliding down your stomach, past your hips, until your fingers spread yourself open for him, letting him see everything.

Jake’s breath left him in a ragged curse.

“That’s it,” he muttered, almost to himself. “There she is.”

His mouth latched onto you immediately, tongue dragging through your folds, hot and wet and messy, licking up every bit of slick that had spilled from you since he started his torment.

You screamed.

Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling, gripping, holding on for dear life as Jake ate you alive.

He groaned against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your core, making your hips buck, making you writhe beneath him.

But Jake was ready for it.

His arms hooked under your thighs, locking them over his shoulders, his hands gripping your hips tight, pinning you down as he worked you over with his tongue, messy and relentless, like he was trying to drown in you.

“Oh my fucking—Jake—”

You gasped, sobbed, choked on your own moans, because he wasn’t just licking you,

He was devouring you.

Sucking, flicking, rolling his tongue over your clit, dipping lower to fuck you with it, groaning into you every time your walls fluttered around the slick muscle.

Your body twitched, overwhelmed, shaking under the pressure of his grip, the raw, unrelenting pace of his tongue.

He was merciless.

No teasing. No holding back.

Just Jake, consuming you, controlling you, wrecking you.

Your thighs tensed, your stomach tightened, your breath coming in short, sharp, desperate gasps, and Jake fucking felt it.

He knew you were close.

So he got mean.

He pulled away just enough to whisper against your swollen, drenched folds—

“Make a mess of my face, baby.”

Your stomach dropped.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it hard.

Everything snapped.

Your whole body bowed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your vision blurring, blanking, as pleasure slammed into you, violent and unforgiving.

You came hard, your body convulsing, your legs trying to snap shut around his head, but Jake just held you there, kept you wide open, kept his tongue right where you needed it, licking you through it, dragging it out until you were a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him.

When it finally became too much, when your whimpers turned into soft, wrecked sobs, Jake eased up, pressing slow, teasing kisses against your oversensitive clit before finally pulling away.

Your chest heaved, your skin flushed, your whole body buzzing, as you blinked up at the ceiling, completely wrecked, ruined, destroyed.

Jake sat back, grinning, his lips and chin shiny, slick, messy with you.

His voice was smug, satisfied, when he finally spoke.

“That’s my girl.”

You were still panting, still trembling, your body wrecked from the brutal pace of his tongue. But Jake wasn’t done with you yet.

Not even close.

Before you could recover, before you could even think, his hands were on you again, flipping you onto your stomach with zero effort, pressing his weight down against you, his body hot, heavy, overwhelming.

You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt it,

The thick, hot length of his cock pressing between your thighs, dragging through your slick, coating himself in the mess he’d made of you.

Your whole body shuddered.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, voice dark, dangerous. “You ready for me, baby?”

You barely managed to nod, your hips tilting up, your back arching, offering yourself up to him in the filthiest display of submission.

Jake groaned, his breath shuddering against your shoulder.

“Yeah, you are,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’ve been ready for me since day one.”

Your breath hitched when he pulled back, when you felt him shift, when you felt him line himself up,

You felt it.

The thick, heavy weight of his cock sliding between your folds, dragging over your clit, teasing your entrance, spreading you open inch by inch, but not pushing in yet.

You whimpered, a wrecked, frustrated sound, trying to push back, trying to take him, but Jake’s hands were on your hips immediately, holding you still.

“Not yet,” he murmured, voice taunting, smug. “You feel that?”

Your whole body tightened as he dragged himself over your entrance again, so close but still not giving it to you.

“Feel how big I am?”

You nodded furiously, eyes blown wide, unfocused, needy, trying to breathe through the overwhelming feeling of his cock stretching you open already before he was even inside.

Jake chuckled, one hand leaving your hip, gripping the thick base of himself, dragging the fat, swollen head against your entrance over and over, smearing your slick across his length.

“Bet you thought about it, huh?” he murmured, his free hand sliding up your back, pressing between your shoulder blades, forcing you further into the mattress. “Bet you imagined how deep I’d be.”

A wrecked, whiny little moan tumbled from your lips.

Yeah. You had.

And now you could feel it.

Jake was thick. Heavy. Long enough that you knew he was going to ruin you completely.

The head of his cock was flushed a deep, angry red, already slick with precum and the mess you’d made of yourself. A thick vein ran down the underside, pulsing against your entrance as he dragged himself over your folds again and again, teasing, taunting, letting you feel every single inch of what was about to wreck you.

Your thighs shook, your hands fisting the sheets, your whole body fighting to stay still.

Jake smirked.

“Want it that bad?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, pressing back against him, desperate to be filled.

Jake groaned, low, dark, lethal.

He spat directly onto your asshole.

Your whole body jerked violently, your breath choking out of you, a sharp, desperate gasp breaking from your throat at the filthy, messy sound of it.

Jake chuckled darkly, rubbing the wetness into you with his thumb, spreading it over your tight entrance, teasing, circling, smearing it with your own slick.

“Thought about this too, huh?” he murmured, pressing just the tip of his thumb against it, making your thighs tremble, making your stomach flip, making you whine.

But he didn’t push in.

No—he dragged his spit-slicked thumb down, tracing it between your folds, pressing it against your clit in a slow, taunting rub just as he finally—

Pushed inside.

Your mouth fell open in a wrecked, silent scream, your entire body going taut, because Jake didn’t ease in.

He split you open.

A long, low groan rumbled in his chest, his fingers tightening on your hips, his breath shaking as he forced you to take every inch.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his voice strained, wrecked, strained as he buried himself to the hilt. “So fucking tight.”

Your fingernails dug into the sheets, your legs shaking, your breath completely gone, because the stretch was unbearable, overwhelming, perfect.

Jake didn’t move right away.

He let you feel it.

Feel how deep he was, how full he made you, how there was no more space inside you for anything else but him.

He pulled back, 

And slammed back in.

Your whole body jolted forward, a sharp, shocked moan spilling from your lips as Jake set a brutal, punishing pace immediately.

“You’re gonna take it like a good little slut, yeah?” he growled, his voice low, rough, filthy. “Gonna take it just like you do in those videos?”

You sobbed, whimpered, nodded frantically, barely able to form words, barely able to breathe.

Jake groaned, watching you fall apart, watching you drool all over his cock, watching your mouth fall open in perfect, wordless pleasure.

He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear, his pace never faltering, pounding into you so deep you saw stars.

“Push back on it,” he ordered.

You barely even registered the command—just obeyed immediately, rocking back against him, meeting every thrust, taking him like you were made for it.

Jake growled, his grip tightening, watching the way his cock slid in and out of you, watching the way you took every inch, watching the way you spread yourself open for him completely.

“Good girl,” he gritted out, sweat dripping from his temples, his breath ragged. “That’s it, baby. Show me what a good little whore you are.”

His fingers slid back down, toying with your clit, rubbing it in tight, filthy circles, his thrusts getting harder, deeper, meaner.

Your vision blurred.

Your body shook violently.

“Jake—fuck—I can’t—”

He chuckled darkly, leaning over you again, his lips brushing your ear as he ruined you completely.

“Yes, you can.”

“Be a good girl and come all over my cock.”

Your whole world shattered.

The air in the room was thick, heavy with the scent of sex and sweat and everything filthy you’d just done.

Your body was still shaking, your limbs still boneless, every nerve still buzzing from the way Jake had just completely, utterly wrecked you.

His hands were on you again.

Gentle.

You barely registered the shift at first—too dazed, too exhausted, too blissed out to notice the way Jake’s grip had softened, the way his rough, dominant touch had turned into something careful, careful, careful.

You blinked, still coming down, still floating, as Jake slowly eased himself out of you, hushing you immediately when you whimpered at the loss.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a stark contrast to the filthy, merciless way he’d been talking to you minutes ago.

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

Because Jake sounded different.

You barely had time to process it before he moved, scooping you up effortlessly, pulling you into his lap like you were the most precious fucking thing in the world.

Your stomach flipped.

“Jake—”

“Shh.”

His lips brushed your forehead.

Your heart skipped. Your breath caught.

Because Jake had kissed you.

For the first time. But not on your lips.

Not yet.

His hands rubbed slow, soothing circles over your back, his voice a quiet murmur against your skin. “Are you okay?”

You blinked at him, completely thrown. Because what the fuck?

Where was the cocky, filthy-mouthed Jake who had just spent the past hour ruining your entire existence?

Where was the smug, insufferable bastard who had made you beg for it, who had spat on your ass, who had laughed while you drooled all over his cock?

Because the guy holding you now? Was someone else entirely. His hands were warm, steady, grounding. His gaze was soft, searching, real.

Your lips parted, still stunned, but before you could say anything, Jake let out a quiet, almost nervous chuckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face before looking back at you. “I should’ve kissed you first.”

Your breath hitched.

Jake exhaled, shaking his head. “Before all of that.” His fingers traced light, delicate patterns up and down your spine. “Didn’t want the first time I kissed you to be during sex.”

Something in your chest ached. You didn’t know what to say.

Because this wasn’t what you expected.

Jake had spent weeks taunting you, teasing you, pushing you past your limits— Now he was holding you like he never wanted to let go. You swallowed, watching him carefully, studying him, trying to understand.

“Why?” you whispered.

Jake’s lips curled into a small, almost sheepish smirk.

His fingers found your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Because I wanted it to mean something.”

Your entire body stilled. Your pulse roared in your ears.

Jake held your gaze, serious now, voice soft but firm.

“I don’t share,” he murmured.

Your stomach plummeted.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Jake tilted his head, his fingers sliding up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, so gentle, so intimate, so fucking real.

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he continued, his voice low, steady, certain. “I don’t want you fucking anyone else.”

Your breath shuddered. Jake’s eyes flickered down to your lips, slowly He finally kissed you.

Slow. Deep. Consuming.

And just like that, you knew you were done for.

-

Jake’s words from that first night still haunted you.

“You’re gonna show me later.”

You were.

The bathroom lights were dim, the mirror already fogging up from the heat of the room, but none of that mattered. Not when Jake was standing behind you, one hand gripping your hip, the other holding his phone, recording every filthy, desperate second.

Your palms were pressed against the edge of the sink, your body bent forward, the cold porcelain digging into your clit as you grinded against it, mimicking exactly what he had caught you doing before.

Only this time, Jake was fucking you through it.

His cock dragged in and out of you, slow at first, deep and deliberate, splitting you open, making you feel every thick, devastating inch as you rocked your hips forward, rubbing yourself against the sink just like you had before he ever touched you.

Now, Jake was watching.

Now, Jake was inside you.

His breath was hot against your neck, his free hand trailing up your spine, fingers pressing between your shoulder blades, pushing you further down against the sink, making you spread your legs wider, making you take more of him, making you completely his.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice wrecked, low, approving, his free hand digging into your hip, holding you exactly where he wanted you. “Just like that. Just like you did for me before I ever fucking touched you.”

Your moans were high, gasping, desperate, bouncing off the tile walls, growing louder and louder as Jake’s thrusts grew faster, sharper, filthier.

“Look at yourself,” he growled, angling the phone so you could see the reflection—see the way your face was contorted with pleasure, see the way your tits bounced with every thrust, see the way his cock disappeared inside you, stretching you wide, filling you completely.

You locked eyes with him through the mirror, and something snapped.

A slow, wicked smirk curled on your lips, and suddenly, the whimpering mess you had been was gone.

You arched your back further, pushing your ass back against him, grinding onto his cock, fucking yourself onto him even harder, your mouth spilling filth without hesitation.

“You see that, baby?” Your voice was thick with sin, sultry and commanding. “See how good your cock looks inside me? Stretching me open like I was fucking made for it?”

Jake groaned, dark and wrecked, his grip tightening on your hips.

“Oh, you like that?” you cooed, deliberately clenching around him, making him hiss through his teeth. “Like watching me fuck myself on you?”

He gritted his teeth. “Jesus Christ.”

“Thought about this for so long,” you purred, rolling your hips. “Thought about you taking me like this—filming me—showing me what a good little slut I am for you.”

Jake cursed under his breath, his thrusts growing harder, faster, deeper, his control shattering as he pounded into you, forcing you against the sink, making you feel every fucking inch.

“You wanna keep talking, baby?” he gritted out, his hand snaking up to grip your throat, making you hold his gaze in the mirror. “Or do you wanna fucking come?”

Your moan broke, your whole body trembling, your legs shaking violently.

“I—I want both,” you gasped, a shameless, breathless mess. “Wanna come all over your cock while you fucking record it. Wanna make the dirtiest fucking video for you—so you can watch me fall apart over and over—”

Jake groaned, his restraint snapping completely.

His hand slid between your thighs, rubbing you mercilessly, his cock slamming into you faster, harder, filthier, and before you could even process it—

You were screaming, your orgasm ripping through you violently, your whole body convulsing, shaking, breaking apart.

Jake got every second on video.

-

Jake liked to smoke weed after long days.

He liked to do it while wrecking you.

The air was thick with smoke, the room hot, hazy, suffocating in the most intoxicating way. You were sprawled out on his bed, your thighs spread wide, your wrists pinned beside your head as Jake’s tongue dragged lazy, filthy circles over your clit, lapping at you with zero urgency, completely unbothered by how fucking desperate you were getting.

In his free hand? A joint.

Burning slow. The smoke curling through the air, weaving between your tangled bodies, seeping into your skin, into your mind, into your bones.

Every nerve in your body was on fire. Every slow, teasing flick of his tongue felt magnified, every inhale he took deepening the fog that was swallowing you whole.

You moaned, squirming, your fingers digging into the sheets as your hips lifted, chasing his mouth, trying to get more, but Jake just chuckled darkly, pinning you down, refusing to let you take control.

He lifted his head slightly, blowing a long, slow stream of thick, warm smoke over your drenched, swollen clit.

Your body jerked violently, a sharp cry breaking from your throat, the sensation too much, too overwhelming, too fucking filthy.

“Fuck—Jake—”

He groaned, lazy, satisfied, licking his lips before dragging his tongue through your folds again, so slow, so teasing, so fucking unbearable.

“Sensitive, baby?” His voice was thick, taunting, dripping with amusement. He took another deep inhale from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs, letting his fingers slide through your wetness, teasing, circling, rubbing—but never giving you enough.

He exhaled another thick, slow drag of smoke, letting it roll over your heat, watching as the wisps curled around your trembling thighs, your stomach, your completely wrecked, ruined body.

A wrecked, filthy moan spilled from your lips.

Jake smirked against your inner thigh, watching you twitch, tremble, shake, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly, watching the way your fingers clawed at the sheets, desperate for more.

“You like that, baby?” he murmured, his fingers sliding deeper, pressing inside you so fucking slow, dragging against your walls, curling just right.

You whimpered, back arching off the mattress. “Yes—fuck, yes—”

Jake hummed approvingly, the sound low and sinful, his lips dragging over your inner thigh, nipping at the soft flesh, teasing, taunting.

He did something unholy.

He brought the joint down,

And pressed the burning tip directly to your clit.

It didn’t hurt—it was barely a graze, the heat of the ember just close enough to send a violent shockwave of pleasure-pain through your entire fucking body.

You screamed, your legs snapping closed around his head, but Jake just growled, gripping your thighs and spreading them wide again, forcing you open for him.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, bringing the joint back to his lips for another slow, deep pull. “Keep those legs open, baby.”

Your chest heaved, your mind spinning, every part of you hypersensitive, overstimulated, teetering on the fucking edge.

Jake watched you, eyes blown, hungry, dark, as he reached between your thighs again, his fingers finding your swollen, overstimulated clit, rubbing messy, lazy circles, smearing your slick, keeping you right there, right on the brink.

He exhaled another cloud of smoke, letting it roll directly over your heat.

Your moan broke, a sharp, wrecked sob, your body tensing, shaking, fighting the unbearable pressure building inside you.

“Oh, baby,” Jake mocked, his voice thick with sin, his fingers never stopping, never slowing. “You’re gonna fucking come just from this, aren’t you?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering, writhing, your whole body fighting to hold itself together.

Jake’s lips twitched, his cock straining against his sweats, his own control slipping as he dragged the joint over your soaked folds, rubbing the tip against your clit, watching you jerk, watching your legs tremble, watching you fall apart for him.

You said it.

Your voice was high, wrecked, desperate.

“Please, Daddy.”

Jake froze.

He let out a deep, low groan, something dark flashing in his eyes. His grip on your thighs tightened, his body tensed, his restraint snapping completely.

His voice was rough, strained, wrecked beyond recognition.

“Say that shit again.”

You whimpered, grinding against nothing, teetering right on the edge of something violent.

“Please, Daddy,” you repeated, voice syrupy sweet, dripping with sin. “My pussy wants a hit too it needs it. Need you to make me come so fucking hard I forget my own name—”

Jake growled, his entire body shuddering, his control obliterated.

He took another slow inhale,

He pressed the joint back to your clit, the heat searing, shocking, sending a violent shudder through your entire body.

Your legs spasmed, your stomach tensed, and suddenly you were gushing, soaking his face, his chest, the sheets beneath you, every single muscle in your body seizing as you squirted all over him.

Jake groaned loudly, his hand gripping your thigh bruisingly tight, his tongue lapping up the mess you made, drinking you down, humming against your dripping folds like he’d just found his new favorite way to get high.

Jake took the joint, still damp from where he’d pressed it against your soaked heat, brought it back to his lips, and took one final, slow hit.

His exhale was slow, deep, pure sin as he looked down at you, wrecked, spent, twitching beneath him.

He leaned in, grabbed your jaw, and kissed you.

Filthy. Deep. Destroying.

Smoke still lingered on his tongue, on his breath, invading your lungs, intoxicating you more than any drug ever could.

His teeth tugged at your lower lip, his hand gripping the back of your neck, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

And as he pulled away, leaving you breathless, ruined, completely fucking gone, he grinned against your lips, voice nothing but a low, wrecked murmur.

“Bet you taste even better than the high, baby.”

-

The bathroom was already steaming, condensation rolling down the glass shower door, the air thick with humidity—and the sounds of Jake fucking you senseless.

Your body was pressed against the glass, the cool surface a stark contrast to your feverish, flushed skin, your nipples dragging against it with every brutal thrust, leaving streaks of your desperation across the fogged-up surface.

Jake’s hands were everywhere—one gripping your hip tight enough to bruise, the other wrapped around your throat, holding you in place, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

Fucking lethal.

“You wanted this, huh?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear, his cock slamming into you from behind, deep, ruthless, unforgiving. “Wanted Daddy to take you like this?”

You whimpered, your forehead pressing into the glass, your nails scraping uselessly against it, because you had no control over anything anymore.

Jake wasn’t just fucking you. He was owning you.

His hand on your throat tightened, forcing you to lift your head, making you stare at your own fucked-out reflection in the glass.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone condescending, filthy, dripping with amusement. “You see yourself, baby?”

Your mouth hung open, your lips puffy, swollen, wrecked, your body shaking with every deep thrust, your nipples dragging against the slick surface of the glass, leaving desperate little streaks with every movement.

Jake chuckled darkly. “So fucking dumb for me, huh?”

You tried to speak—tried to say something, anything—but all that came out was a wrecked, helpless little sob.

Jake groaned, his free hand sliding down, gripping your jaw, forcing your head back, forcing you to keep looking.

“You wanted to fuck me in the shower?” he mocked, his hips snapping forward, burying himself so deep you saw fucking stars. “Now you can barely even stand.”

Your whole body convulsed, your walls clenching tightly around him, and Jake felt it.

Felt how fucking wrecked you were.

Felt how close you were.

And he wasn’t having it.

Not yet.

His thrusts suddenly slowed, the brutal, relentless pace shifting into deep, slow, torturous rolls of his hips, dragging his cock out of you so slowly, before slamming back inside.

You sobbed, the glass fogging up from your panting, helpless gasps.

“Oh, you don’t like that, baby?” he taunted, his grip on your jaw tightening, his thumb pushing into your mouth, forcing it open. “Thought you wanted Daddy to fuck you. What happened, huh?”

You whimpered around his thumb, your tongue lapping at the rough pad, sucking instinctively, needing something to hold onto before you fucking lost your mind.

Jake groaned, his pace picking up again, faster, harsher, filthier, his cock hitting deep, devastating spots inside you that made your legs buckle beneath you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, high, gasping little cries that bounced off the tile walls, mixing with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the shower running, the heavy panting of both of you completely fucking falling apart.

Jake leaned in, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, his hand on your jaw sliding down, wrapping fully around your throat.

“You’re gonna take everything I give you,” he murmured, low, dark, dangerous.

You nodded frantically, whimpering, your hands bracing against the glass, leaving messy little fingerprints in the condensation.

Jake groaned, watching you lose yourself, watching the way your body responded to him, the way you trembled, the way you fucking fell apart for him.

“Go ahead, baby,” he murmured, his thrusts turning erratic, ruthless, brutal, perfect. “Come for me.”

Your whole body snapped.

A shattered, broken moan spilled from your lips as your orgasm slammed into you, your walls clenching, pulsing, milking him, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.

Jake cursed, his grip tightening, his own breath shattering against your ear as he thrust into you a few more times, then he buried himself deep, groaning through gritted teeth, coming inside you, his body tensing, shaking, completely fucking wrecked.

The only sound left in the room was your panting breaths, the steady patter of the shower, the faint creak of the glass as your bodies pressed against it, spent, ruined, completely fucking gone.

Jake’s hands slid to your hips, his grip softening, pulling you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you as his forehead pressed against the back of your neck.

A quiet, breathless chuckle escaped him. “Damn, baby.”

You laughed, weak, fucked-out, completely ruined.

“Next time,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You’re riding me.”

-

Jake had never been gentle.

Not really. Not when it came to you.

Because you pulled something reckless, desperate, uncontrollable out of him.

Tonight was different.

The candles flickered softly, the scent of warm vanilla filling the air, mixing with the faint traces of Jake’s cologne on his sheets. The playlist he made for you played quietly in the background, soft, slow, achingly sweet.

Jake was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

His hands were slow, careful, reverent as he traced your body, fingertips ghosting over your bare skin, leaving shivers in their wake.

He hovered over you, his gaze heavy, intense, the way he always looked at you when he was about to ruin you.

Tonight, he was going to love you.

“Happy one month, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours, soft, teasing, unbearably tender.

Your stomach flipped, your chest aching, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him down, needing more.

Jake chuckled against your mouth, letting you kiss him, letting you taste the slow, burning affection behind every drag of his lips.

“You always so needy for me, huh?” he teased, grinning against your mouth, teasing but soft, always so soft.

You pouted, fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, slower.

Jake groaned, his body pressing into yours, his warmth wrapping around you, completely engulfing you.

And when he finally—finally—pushed inside you, it was the slowest thing you’d ever felt.

A sharp gasp slipped from your lips, your head falling back as Jake’s body sank into yours, inch by inch, stretching you, filling you completely.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath uneven, wrecked, completely lost in you.

You clenched around him, your thighs tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper, needing more,

But Jake just smirked, shaking his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your jaw.

“Not rushing tonight, baby,” he murmured, voice low, gentle, soothing, but firm. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Your chest ached, your breath shaking, your fingers sliding down his back, gripping onto him, holding him close.

Jake moved slowly, agonizingly so, rolling his hips into yours in long, deep strokes, his body pressed flush against you, his lips tracing every inch of your skin.

It was everything.

The way he whispered against your lips, soft, teasing, murmuring about how perfect you felt, how much he loved being inside you.

The way he kissed you between every word, slow, messy, deep, like he needed you to feel every bit of how much he wanted you, adored you, fucking loved you.

The way his hands caressed your body, memorizing every inch of you, fingertips dragging over your waist, your ribs, your thighs, like he needed to burn you into his skin.

It was soft.

It was overwhelming.

It was Jake, giving you every single piece of himself.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick, wrecked, raw, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw, before finding your lips again.

And when he finally—finally—pushed you over the edge, it was like drowning.

Your orgasm hit slow, deep, all-consuming, your whole body melting into his, your fingers gripping his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.

Jake followed right after, burying himself deep, shuddering, groaning into your mouth, completely fucking lost in you.

When you were spent, ruined, completely wrapped up in him, he didn’t move.

Didn’t pull away. Didn’t let you go.

Instead, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, soft, tender, adoring.

He kissed you.

Slow. Lingering. Perfect.

“I Love you,” he murmured, lips still pressed against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped.

Your breath hitched.

When you whispered it back, Jake smiled against your mouth.

-

Jake had been staring at you for a full ten minutes.

Not subtly. Not in passing. Full-on, pouty-lipped, arms-crossed, lovesick puppy-dog-eyes staring.

You had noticed, of course—you always noticed when Jake was desperate for attention—but you had been trying to see how long he would hold out before cracking. You scrolled through your phone lazily, sipping from your water bottle, pretending to be completely oblivious to the fact that your boyfriend was sulking next to you like you had just broken his heart.

A deep, dramatic sigh.

You smirked, tilting your head just slightly to catch him in your peripheral. Sure enough, he was still pouting, still glaring at you like you had done something terrible.

You raised a brow. “What?”

Jake let out another, even heavier sigh, rolling onto his side to face you, his arms curling around your waist, pulling you against him like you were his last source of oxygen.

“You haven’t kissed me yet,” he muttered, muffled against your shirt.

You blinked. “What?”

Jake lifted his head, his expression pure devastation.

“You haven’t kissed me,” he repeated, dead serious.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in your throat. “Jake—”

“Jakey,” he corrected, pointing to his cheek expectantly.

You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with amusement, but leaned in anyway, pressing a soft, slow peck to his cheek.

Jake let out the happiest sigh, his lips curling into the softest, sweetest little smile, eyes fluttering shut like he had just been granted salvation.

“Mmm,” he hummed, squeezing you tighter. “Better.”

You shook your head, laughing softly, trailing your fingers through his hair, but before you could pull away, he was tilting his chin up, tapping his other cheek.

“Missed a spot.”

You rolled your eyes, but indulged him, pressing another gentle kiss to his other cheek.

Jake sighed even deeper, his hands tightening around your waist, his grin growing even wider.

“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck, breathing you in.

You bit your lip, heart melting at how soft, sweet, and completely in love he was. Jake had his moods—he could be cocky, insatiable, dominant, but this? This was your favorite.

He nuzzled against you, sighing softly. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our wedding.”

Your breath hitched. “Oh?”

Jake just nodded, his smile so content, so blissful.

“Yeah. I’ve got it all planned out,” he mused, tilting his chin up expectantly again.

You smirked. “What?”

Jake pointed to his lips.

You giggled, leaning down, kissing him slow, savoring the soft little hum he let out, the way his fingers curled tighter into your sides.

When you pulled away, he was grinning like an idiot.

“Okay, so,” he started, eyes glimmering. “It’s gotta be on a beach. You in some flowy-ass dress, looking like a literal angel.”

You smiled at the thought, pressing another kiss to his temple.

Jake sighed, eyes slipping shut for a moment, his body completely relaxed, completely wrapped up in the idea.

“And our honeymoon?” he continued, his voice getting even softer, even dreamier. “Bora Bora. Or the Maldives. Somewhere I can keep you in bed for a whole week.”

You gasped, swatting his chest playfully. “Jake—”

“Jakey,” he corrected again, glaring immediately.

You sighed dramatically, leaning down and pressing a peck to his nose.

Jake sighed, so blissed out he could barely speak for a second.

“God, I love you,” he murmured, pressing tiny kisses to your collarbone, your shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

You smiled against his skin, your lips still ghosting over his temple. “Love you too.”

Jake hummed, shifting so he could press his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“You know,” he started, his voice lower, softer, full of something even deeper. “I was thinking three kids. Two boys, one girl.”

You smiled. “Oh yeah?”

“Or,” he continued, grinning, “what if we get twins? Like, one of each?”

You kissed his cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jake huffed, tugging you closer, burying himself into your warmth. “Not ridiculous. Just in love.”

He closed his eyes, sighing. “You’re gonna stay home, right? Take care of the house, the kids, let me take care of you?”

Your chest tightened. “You’d be okay with that?”

He snorted, pulling back to look at you like you had lost your mind. “Baby, I’d love that. I’d spoil you rotten.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Think about it,” he murmured, his voice turning lower, teasing. “You, waiting for me when I come home, wearing one of my shirts, telling me how much you missed me.”

You felt hot all over.

He smirked. “God, you’d be the best little housewife.”

You pressed your face into his chest, flustered, overwhelmed, completely wrapped around his finger.

Jake just laughed, holding you so tight, so safe, so his.

“And the house?” he murmured, squeezing your waist. “We need something big, but cozy. A huge kitchen—‘cause I know you love to cook. A fireplace, maybe? A backyard for the kids. A big-ass bed so I can keep you all to myself.”

You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. “Jake, stop.”

Jake grinned. “Jakey,” he corrected one last time, tapping his lips.

You rolled your eyes but leaned down anyway, kissing him slow, soft, deep.

He sighed into it, his fingers curling into your hair, holding you there, kissing you like he had all the time in the world.

And when you pulled away, breathless, hearts pounding, he whispered against your lips, “You’re gonna marry me.”

Your chest ached.

You couldn’t wait to. “Yeah, Jakey. I’m gonna marry you.”

-

The morning had started innocent enough.

At least, as innocent as waking up naked and tangled with Jake Sim could be.

You were supposed to get up early. You were supposed to go to class on time for once. But then Jake shifted, his warm, bare skin pressing into yours, his breath heavy against your ear, his hand already sliding between your thighs before you were even fully awake.

“Morning, baby,” he murmured, raspy, teasing, completely unbothered by the fact that you were already running late.

You lost all track of time.

Jake didn’t need to touch you to ruin you.

Sometimes, all it took was his voice.

“You’re not gonna make it to class, are you?” he mused, low and smug, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shuddered, squeezing your eyes shut as you pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to just his words.

Jake chuckled, shifting so he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you like he was already planning how much worse he was going to make it. Slow, teasing, torturously confident.

“You always do this,” he murmured, tracing lazy patterns along your stomach. “Pretend you’re gonna leave. Act like you’re strong enough to walk away from me.”

You swallowed hard, gripping the sheets, your chest rising and falling too quickly.

Jake smirked. He noticed.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was taunting, almost sympathetic. “Already shaking and I haven’t even touched you yet?”

You exhaled sharply, squeezing your legs tighter together.

Jake tsked. “Oh, sweetheart.”

His hand ghosted down, his fingers dragging over your hip, down the outside of your thigh, barely there, completely teasing.

“You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, biting your lip, refusing to answer.

He hummed, shaking his head. “So easy for me.”

You turned your head, hiding your face against the pillow, but Jake wasn’t having that.

“Look at me,” he murmured, low and firm, the kind of tone that made your stomach flip.

You hesitated, but turned back, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, heavy, filled with pure amusement.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, running a finger down your cheek, his voice turning softer, but still full of that unbearable smugness.

You swallowed, trying to keep your breathing even, but Jake could see right through you.

“You don’t wanna go to class,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your jaw, so soft, so slow. “You wanna stay right here, let me ruin you all over again.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets.

“Say it,” he coaxed, his hand sliding lower, his mouth hovering just above yours. “Tell me you’d rather be late.”

Your lips parted, your breath shaky.

Jake smirked, running his nose along your cheek, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“You wanna be good for me, don’t you, baby?”

You whimpered, your resolve crumbling.

And that’s all it took.

Jake chuckled, shifting over you fully, pressing you back into the mattress.

“That’s my girl.”

-

By the time you both finally dragged yourselves out of bed, you were already doomed.

Jake smirked as you struggled to stand on shaky legs, his grip on your waist firm as he steadied you, smug as ever.

“Careful, baby,” he murmured, biting his lip as he took in the mess he had made of you.

You shoved him, grumbling under your breath as you pulled on your sweater, knowing full well that no amount of adjusting was going to hide the way you looked thoroughly ruined.

Jake didn’t even try.

He pulled on the first hoodie he could find, rubbing a hand through his already-mussed-up hair, his lips still swollen from kissing you senseless.

By the time you actually left, you were beyond late.

Your professor narrowed his eyes immediately.

Jake grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders like it was no big deal, guiding you to your seats with zero shame, zero regret.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” your professor said dryly, crossing his arms, glancing between the two of you.

You swallowed hard. “Uh, yeah, sorry,”

Your professor raised a brow. “You both look… disheveled.”

You felt your entire body heat up, shifting in your seat as Jake just smirked.

“Must’ve been the wind,” Jake said smoothly, kicking his feet up under the desk, looking completely unbothered.

Your professor wasn’t convinced.

He squinted, glancing at you, then at Jake, then back at you.

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly. “The wind.”

Jake grinned wider.

Your professor exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

You nearly collapsed in relief, but Jake?

Jake was having way too much fun.

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, his voice low, teasing, smug.

“Baby, I think we’re getting too obvious.”

You resisted the urge to kick him under the desk.

From then on, every time you and Jake showed up late to class, looking like an absolute mess— Your professor just sighed, shook his head, and looked the other way.

fin.

-

TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @seonhoon @naurwayyyyy @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @annybah @zzhengyu @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex

[starrihan]

Jake Hard Thought!

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

I found this video in my camera roll so enjoy this thought I brewed while watching it!

༄ ༄ ༄

He’s been lapping at your cunt for hours now, hair tousled from your constant pulling on it and glasses foggy and crooked, a result of his own need to eat you out.

“J-Jake… I don’t t-think I can t-take it anymore!”

Legs closing in on his head as he brings you to your seventh orgasm in a row, his jaw tireless as he continues to make out with your pussy.

“One more baby… just give me one… more…”

His hand rests on your lower half to stop you from pulling away from him. You couldn’t tell if he was really strong or if you were really weak and tired from the constant orgasms. He’s quick yet gentle, the perfect mix between teasing and straight pleasure. Your body tries to arch, now eighth orgasm crashing through your body. You’re not sure how much you have left in you at this point, cunt aching, both for more and out of overstimulation. He lifts his head up slowly from between your legs, mouth and chin glistening with your juices, a lazy smile plastered on his face.

“You can do one more, right?”

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

[theyluvjake]

୨ৎ enha hyung-line nsfw links

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

cw: p0rn links | reblog if you enjoyed <333

18+ NO MINORS.

hee making you show him how bad you wanted his cock before he fucks you <3

you love to reward jay after a long hard day at work :(

sunghoon when hes mean to you, but u love it.. being fucked dumb and slapped around

jay loves to breed you <33

you and hee waking everyone else in the dorm up because he couldn't wait and you can never be quiet

jake was supposed to be your late night physics tutor...

heeseung.

hoonie when he comes home after he found out you touched yourself without his permission while he was gone..

hoon loves to take his time teasing his sensitive baby..

perv!jake when he finally decides to show you what its like to feel good

hee loves fucking you in missionary so he can see your tits bounce while he fucks you

[riqomi]

late night convenience ˖ 심재윤

제이크 ˖ 𝑓em!r .. g. fluff. smut. university!au ──── BOOKSHELF (6335) tw: unprotected sex (don’t be silly! wrap your willy), oral m. receiving, reader is kinda bold? kinda rushed.. mentions of drinking! let me know if i missed anything

classes had come to a close, a relief tinged with the knowledge of your upcoming shift at 7-11 that loomed on the horizon. as you walked back to the dorm, the weight of an evening spent at the register settled on your shoulders. it wasn’t the work itself that made you feel so exhausted, but rather the way that time seemed to stretch infinitely, like taffy, when the store was hushed and devoid of customers. after a quick shower to rinse away the day, you slipped into your uniform, the fabric soft and familiar as it clung to your skin. you grabbed your things and headed out, the sky a breathtaking palette of purples and fiery oranges, the sun dipping gracefully behind the campus buildings and casting long, dramatic shadows on the ground. you couldn’t help but pause, wishing you could capture the moment in a jar, something much too lovely to be happening on a day like this.

the shift began as it always did: quiet and predictable, the comforting rustle of snack bags and the soft clinks of bottles the only sounds to break the silence. the bell above the door chimed gently as it swung open, slicing through the stillness, and you glanced up to see jake walk in, a customer whose increasing frequency at the store hadn’t gone unnoticed by you. a cute guy with laid-back charm, he carried an air of ease, like he had nowhere else more important to be, and his warm, inviting smile settled directly on you, a message seemingly meant for your eyes alone.

"hey," he greeted, casually strolling to the counter with his usual bottle of lemonade in hand. "busy day?" he leaned forward slightly, a gesture that felt intimate, like he was letting you in on a secret.

you shrugged, trying to mask the flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. "you know how it is," you replied, striving to sound nonchalant, as though this kind of attention was nothing new and didn’t set your heart racing in the least.

jake chuckled softly

, the sound warm and genuine, tinged with a touch of affection. he leaned in a little closer, and you could catch a faint whiff of his earthy cologne, something sandalwood and clean. his presence was comforting and engaging, a bubble of connection in the sparse quiet of the store. "well, thanks for keeping this place running," he said, his eyes meeting yours and holding them a moment longer than seemed possible. those extra seconds stretched out, each one making the moment feel more significant than the last and causing your heart to skip an undeniable beat. "i’d be lost without my daily fix," he added, a teasing glint in his eyes that made your cheeks flush with unexpected warmth.

you managed a half-smile, determined to play it cool, even though your mind was already spinning a million miles a minute with implications and possibilities. you watched as jake made his way to the door, his movements leisurely, as if reluctant to leave the glowing sweetness of your banter. he paused there for a moment, turning back for a quick wave that left a trail of hope in its wake. you wondered, with cautious curiosity, if he might really be into you.

as if on cue, the door swung open again, the bell chiming to announce the arrival of a new customer, dragging your thoughts back to reality.

an older man in a worn flannel jacket stepped inside, his eyes scanning the shelves with intent. you nodded at him, trying to shake off the distraction of jake’s lingering presence in the air. the man moved with a practiced efficiency, scooping up instant noodles and a six-pack of beer before making his way to the counter.

"cold out there," he muttered as you rang up his items, his voice gravelly like tires on gravel.

you nodded, offering the kind of polite smile that came with muscle memory after so many shifts. "getting there," you replied, feeling the brief exchange settle around you like an old quilt—familiar and slightly frayed.

the steady tick of the clock was a constant reminder of the time passing, as the hands slowly moved across the face, each minute feeling like an hour. the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a pale glow on the rows of products lining the shelves. the students who trickled in were a blur of backpack straps and heavy jackets, their conversations bursts of energy that faded quickly past the door.

the evening wore on, and you found yourself watching the clock with mounting anticipation, counting down the minutes until your shift ended. the thought of jake lingered like a pleasant itch in the back of your mind, his smile playing on loop whenever you had a moment to yourself.

it was nearing midnight when the door swung open again, and this time, you were surprised to see it was jake once more. he stepped inside, shaking off the chill and running a hand through his hair as he made a beeline for the counter.

"forgot something?" you teased, trying to keep your voice steady despite the pulse of excitement quickening beneath your skin.

"yeah," he said, his grin widening as he came closer. "thought i'd grab something sweet." there was a playful lilt in his voice, an unspoken suggestion that made your cheeks warm again.

your heart leaped stupidly at the

simple contact, the innocuous touch of his fingers as they brushed yours when he placed the chocolate bar on the counter. you tried to keep your cool, but your eyes betrayed you, flicking up to meet his gaze for a fleeting second before darting away again.

jake seemed content to let the moment linger, his smile softening into something almost gentle. "you know," he started, his voice low and relaxed, "i think this is the most we've talked since i started coming here."

you nodded, tearing the wrapper open as you rang him up. "yeah, it's been a while."

he leaned against the counter, his elbow resting casually beside the register.

"what do you do when you're not here, holed up in this neon-lit sanctuary?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.

you hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden shift from casual banter to actual personal interest. "well, i'm a student at the university, studying psychology," you admitted, finding yourself returning his smile as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "i'm aiming to be a therapist one day."

jake's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "wow, that's... impressive.

a therapist, huh? that explains why you’re so good at reading people,” jake remarked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. you felt a warmth spread through you at the compliment, despite the fact that it was probably just a line he used on everyone.

“thanks,” you said, trying to downplay it. “it’s just a good skill to have in customer service.”

jake chuckled, nodding in agreement. “true. so, which is it? do you enjoy the psychology side, or are you more into the therapy part?”

you leaned against the counter, mirroring his relaxed posture. “both, actually.

i love understanding how people think and what makes us tick. and then, helping them work through their stuff? that’s just the icing on the cake,” you explained, feeling a genuine passion rise within you as you spoke about your future career.

jake nodded slowly, his eyes reflecting a newfound respect. "that's amazing. you must have some interesting stories to tell."

you laughed softly, shrugging. "everyone has their share of stories, don't they? but tell me, what about you? you're a student, too, right? what’s your major?"

jake flashed you a grin, his eyes sparkling.

"yeah, i’m in the business school. everybody says i’m a born salesman, so i figured, why not make a career out of it?" he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "plus, my dad’s a big shot in the corporate world, so there’s some pressure to follow in his footsteps."

you raised an eyebrow, impressed. "wow, that’s big. any particular industry you’re interested in?"

he shrugged. "not really. i’m more into the thrill of the chase, you know? closing a deal, striking a bargain. i guess that’s why i enjoy coming here, too.

it's a chance to practice, in a way," jake admitted, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his self-awareness. "so, you see me as a potential client? interesting approach to relationship building."

jake’s grin widened, and he feigned a look of hurt. "hey, i never said anything about relationships. i’m just a student of human nature, like you."

you smirked, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. "yeah, right. you're just here for the free therapy sessions."

jake laughed, the sound warm and inviting.

"guilty as charged." he paused, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read your thoughts. "but hey, if you ever need someone to talk to, i'm here, too. not just for the snacks."

you felt a heating sensation creep up your cheeks, despite your best efforts to keep your cool. it was the first time he'd made a move beyond casual conversation, and it sent a flurry of butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"well, i'll keep that in mind," you said, trying to match his playful tone. "you know, i could use a break soon.

maybe grab a coffee or something," you found yourself saying, the words tumbling out before you could properly consider them. jake's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and he nodded enthusiastically.

"i'll take you up on that," he said, his voice laced with a subtle excitement that echoed your own. "there's a cozy little place down the street. they make the best lattes in town."

as you locked up the store, the night air was crisp, carrying a hint of the coming winter. jake offered his arm, and you slipped yours through it, the gesture feeling both natural and thrilling.

as you walked down the street, the cool air nipped at your nose, but the warmth of jake’s side made it bearable. the coffee shop was a cozy hole-in-the-wall, tucked away in a quiet corner of the block, just a short stroll from the 7-11. the glow from the warm lights spilled out onto the sidewalk, casting a welcoming halo.

jake pushed open the door, and a bell chimed softly, announcing your arrival. the aroma of fresh coffee and sweet pastries enveloped you, a comforting hug after a long shift.

as you walked down the street, the cool air nipped at your nose, but the warmth of jake’s side made it bearable. the coffee shop was a cozy hole-in-the-wall, tucked away in a quiet corner of the block, just a short stroll from the 7-11. the glow from the warm lights spilled out onto the sidewalk, casting a welcoming halo.

jake pushed open the door, and a bell chimed softly, announcing your arrival. the aroma of fresh coffee and sweet pastries enveloped you, a comforting hug after a long shift.

 you stepped inside, jake following close behind, his body brushing against yours as you squeezed past the tight space. a blush crept up your cheeks, but jake didn’t seem to notice, his attention drawn to the barista instead.

the place was small, with only a handful of tables, each one filled with students huddled together over laptops and cups of coffee. jake glanced around, searching for a spot, and then spotted a small table in the corner that had just been vacated. he gestured for you to take a seat as he went to the counter to order.

as you sat down, you couldn’t help but steal glances at jake, watching as he chatted with the barista. they seemed friendly, almost familiar, and you wondered how often jake came to this place, or if this was just another stop on his route of regular hangouts.

he returned with two steaming cups of coffee, the scent of hazelnut wafting up to greet you.

you sipped your coffee, savoring the smooth flavor. jake sat across from you, his knees brushing yours under the table, his eyes locked on yours.

“so,” he said, a lopsided grin curving his lips. “what do you like to do for fun?”

you shrugged, taking another sip of your coffee. “i don’t really have much time for hobbies, what with work and school, but i enjoy reading in my free time.”

jake’s grin widened. “oh, nice! what kind of books do you like?”

you blinked, caught off guard. no one had ever asked you that before. “well, mostly fiction. i like getting lost in a good story, and i enjoy learning new things, too.”

he leaned forward, his elbows on the table, and his gaze locked intently on yours. “cool. maybe i can give you some recommendations sometime.”

the moment stretched out, and you felt a flutter in your chest. this was the first time you’d really talked to jake outside of the store, and there was an undeniable chemistry between you.

you finished your drinks, lingering over the last drops of coffee, reluctant to leave the warm comfort of the cafe. jake seemed to understand, and he didn’t rush to end the night.

as you left the cafe, he turned to you, his eyes sparkling in the streetlight.

“want to grab a drink sometime? maybe we could even play some darts?” he suggested, his voice light and inviting.

you nodded, feeling a little like you were walking on air. “sounds like fun. i’d like that.”

he grinned, his fingers brushing yours as he handed you his phone. “give me your number.”

you did, your heart skipping a beat as you heard him dial your number, and then his phone ringing, confirming it was saved correctly.

“thanks for the coffee,” he said, his gaze holding yours as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek. “i’ll see you around.”

with that, he turned and walked off into the night, leaving you to wonder if you’d just imagined the entire thing. but then your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out to see a text from an unknown number.

hey. just making sure i had the right number, jake texted, a smiley face following his words.

you smiled, feeling a lightness in your chest.

yeah. got it right on the first try :)) you replied.

his response was immediate, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was waiting by his phone.

hey, so that drink and darts thing. would you be free this week? 

your pulse quickened at the thought of seeing jake again, so soon.

yeah, what day did you have in mind? you replied, trying to keep it casual.

how about friday? we could grab drinks at that dive bar down the street and then head to the game room for some friendly competition

you hesitated, knowing that you had a shift on saturday and usually preferred to keep fridays free to unwind.

i work on saturday, so i probably should head back early. but i can meet you there around 7? you texted.

there was a short pause before his response came through.

yeah, that works for me. see you at 7

you slipped your phone back into your pocket and headed home, your mind buzzing with thoughts of jake.

you wondered what his room would look like, if he’d have anything hanging on the walls, or just piles of books and clothes everywhere.

when friday finally rolled around, you found yourself practically bouncing with excitement. you’d thought of jake all week, your mind replaying their last encounter over and over again, as you imagined the two of you laughing and having a good time.

you got ready quickly, slipping on a pair of tight jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. you pulled your hair back in a simple ponytail and applied some lip gloss, and that was it.

jake was waiting for you by the door when you arrived, his face breaking into a smile as he spotted you. he had on a plain black shirt and jeans, his hair mussed in a way that was both effortlessly cool and ridiculously sexy.

“hey,” he greeted you, his voice warm and welcoming. he held the door open and let you enter before him.

the bar was already bustling with people, the air thick with the smell of beer. jake found a table for you near the window, and you took a seat as he headed to the bar.

he returned with two beers and handed one to you. “so, what’s new with you?” he asked.

you shrugged, taking a sip. “nothing much. just trying to survive the semester.”

he laughed. “yeah, i know the feeling.” he glanced at you, his eyes warm and inviting. “i was thinking, maybe we could make a bet on the game tonight?”

you raised an eyebrow. “a bet? what kind of bet?”

he shrugged. “whatever you want. if you win, you pick it. and if i win, i get to pick.”

you hesitated for a second, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. but something in his eyes made you trust him.

“okay,” you agreed. “let’s make a bet. if i win, i pick, and if you win, you do.”

he grinned and held out his hand. “alright, then. let’s shake on it.”

you clasped his hand, feeling a jolt of electricity run through you as their palms touched.

“let’s do this,” he said, his voice husky and low.

you followed him to the game room, your heart beating fast as you entered the dimly lit space. there was only one other pair in there, and they glanced up briefly before returning their attention to the board.

jake paid for your game and handed you three darts each. you set your beer down on the narrow ledge and took aim.

the game was intense, both of you competing for every point. you could feel jake’s eyes on you with every throw, and you knew he was doing the same, trying to intimidate you into messing up.

but you refused to let him get in your head. you focused on your breathing, imagining the dart flying true and hitting the target dead center.

in the end, it was neck and neck, and you were up last. you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the final throw.

your first dart hit the double 20, earning a small cheer from jake. your second hit the single 18, and your third landed on the triple 19.

you turned around to see jake staring at the board, a slow smile spreading across his face. “well done,” he said. “you won.”

you grinned, feeling a thrill of excitement. “thanks. i guess i get to pick the prize now.”

he nodded. “you do.”

you took a sip of your beer, feeling more relaxed now that the game was over. “hm. let me think on it for a second,” you teased, tapping your lip thoughtfully.

jake rolled his eyes, laughing. “hey, be nice. i’m trying to be gracious in defeat here.”

you snorted, nearly choking on your drink. “sure you are.”

he shot you a mock-glare, and you laughed. “okay, okay. so, what’s my prize?”

you paused for a moment before answering. “i want to see where you live.”

his eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly recovered, a sly grin spreading across his lips. “oh? that’s what you want?”

you nodded. “yeah. i’m curious, so show me.”

he reached out and took your hand, tugging you towards the door. “alright. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

you followed him out of the bar and down the street to his apartment building. it wasn’t far, just a few blocks away, and you walked in comfortable silence, his fingers intertwined with yours.

he led you upstairs to the third floor and unlocked his door with a flourish. you stepped inside, your eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light.

the first thing you noticed was how neat everything was. there were no dirty dishes piled in the sink, no clothes strewn across the floor, and no dust bunnies hiding under the furniture.

you walked through the living room into the kitchen, where there was a small table set up with two chairs. jake gestured to one of them. “have a seat,” he said.

you obeyed, taking a seat and looking around. there was a bookshelf against one wall, filled with textbooks and a few novels. you scanned the titles, noting how many of them were from psychology and business classes.

you stood up and walked over to the bookshelf. “mind if i take a look?”

he shook his head. “not at all.”

you scanned the shelves again, running your fingers over the spines. jake watched you from behind, his eyes never leaving yours.

“i had no idea you were such a big reader,” you remarked, turning to face him.

he shrugged. “i like learning new things.”

you nodded. “me, too.” you picked out a book on social psychology and flipped through the pages. there were notes in the margins and sections highlighted, and you couldn’t resist asking. “did you like this one?”

“yeah, it was interesting,” jake said. “i enjoyed it a lot.”

you kept flipping, finding a section on attachment styles and intimacy. “oh, here’s something about relationships,” you said. “maybe you can give me a rundown.”

jake walked over to where you stood and peered over your shoulder. his body was warm against yours, and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. you shivered despite yourself, the hairs standing up on end.

“looks interesting,” he murmured, his hand brushing yours as he reached for the book.

 you let him take it, and then stepped back, giving him some space.

he flipped through the pages, stopping at the section on intimate relationships. “so, it says here that intimacy is a balance of independence and closeness.” he read through the passage again, his brow furrowed in concentration. “yeah, that makes sense. too much independence and it gets cold. too much closeness and it gets stifling.”

you nodded, intrigued despite yourself. “yeah, exactly.”

he turned to look at you. “want to find out what your attachment style is?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

you hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should be sharing something so personal with him. but then you looked into his eyes and saw the genuine interest there, and you decided to take a chance.

“sure,” you agreed.

he closed the book and set it on the counter. “come here,” he said.

you drifted over to him, each step charged with anticipation as your skin brushed softly against his. he reached out with deliberate tenderness, drawing you into a warm, enveloping embrace, his arms cocooning you as his lips descended slowly onto yours. the kiss blossomed into a languid, deep exploration—his tongue gliding slowly against yours like a whispered secret. a muffled moan escaped your lips, echoing softly against his as you felt his smile deepen with delight.

breaking away for a brief, suspended moment, his breathing came in ragged gasps. “i knew it,” he murmured, his voice low and knowing. dazed, you blinked in wonder. “knew what?” you asked, your tone a mixture of curiosity and lingering enchantment. his eyes danced with quiet amusement as he offered an explanation that mingled intimacy with insight. “that you have an anxious-preoccupied attachment style,” he divulged softly, as if sharing a delicate truth. 

raising an eyebrow in both surprise and self-conscious amusement, you let your cheeks tingle with a blush. “is that a bad thing?” you inquired, your voice gentle yet edged with uncertainty. he shook his head, his smile softening into reassurance. “not at all. it means you feel deeply and passionately, even if you sometimes need extra comfort.” a small shrug and a sheepish smile later, you accepted his words, feeling an unexpected connection.

cradling your face tenderly in his hands, his gaze was earnest and compassionate. “hey. i’m here, alright? don’t worry,” he assured, his voice a soothing balm that sent a warm glow spreading through your chest. you melted into his embrace, letting the safety of his arms calm all lingering doubts.

after a pause heavy with unspoken promises, he leaned in again and asked, “do you want to know my attachment style?” your curiosity sparkled in your eyes as you nodded. with a grin that radiated confidence, he said, “i’m secure. i cherish my independence but i love the closeness we share.” you smiled back, the connection between you deepening palpably as his grin widened further. leaning close once more, he whispered against your lips, “let me show you,” before planting another deep, exploratory kiss upon you.

this kiss was a slow, sumptuous symphony: his tongue danced with yours, gracefully exploring every nuance of your mouth in a sensual ballet. the air between you pulsed with undeniable chemistry and tension as he gently guided you toward the bedroom, nudging the door open with a soft push of his foot. once inside, he closed the door with a soft click that resonated like a prelude to intimacy.

with an air of casual abandon, he removed your shirt, letting it tumble aside as if it were an unnecessary layer of inhibition. in turn, he shed his own top, the fabric falling softly to the floor. the room filled with the heady musk of his cologne—a scent that mingled with the subtle perfume of desire, each heartbeat echoing in the aromatic haze. your eyes were irresistibly drawn to his chiseled abs, each defined curve and contour reminiscent of a well-mapped terrain carved by passion. your fingertips trailed along his skin, feeling the velvety warmth that invited exploration.

“glad you like what you see,” he teased, a playful glimmer in his eyes as they crinkled at the corners. a rush of arousal set your pulse racing like a wild creature unleashed. “oh, shut up,” you whispered huskily, your voice thick with desire. his low, throaty laugh vibrated through your entire being before he effortlessly pulled you down onto the bed. he rolled you gently, positioning himself above you, his presence commanding yet tender.

his mouth returned to yours, soft and insistent, as he trailed tender kisses along your face and neck. you tangled your fingers through his hair, drawing him even closer as his hips moved in a slow, mesmerizing rhythm against yours. “i want you,” he breathed, each word carried on the slow grind of passion. a deep moan escaped you as anticipation mingled with desire, your body responding to his every subtle cue. “then take me,” you whispered back, your voice a fragile echo against your pounding heart.

a shudder of pleasure ran through him before he smoothly rolled off the bed. rising with an effortless fluidity, he shed his pants and boxers in one smooth motion, revealing a thick, pulsating cock that seemed almost alive with desire. every inch of him was charged with raw magnetism—its tip glistening with a bead of precum that shone like a small beacon of longing. you stared in awe, your mouth watering at the display of virility; it was long, thick, and radiated an undeniable presence that filled the room with heated energy. the overwhelming surge of desire nearly swallowed you whole.

“come here,” you murmured, your voice a near-whisper of longing. moving back to the bed, he settled beside you with a confident, yet tender air. you reached out eagerly, enveloping his hardness with your hand. it was smooth and warm under your touch, every caress drawing a gasp from him as your fingers applied a slow, deliberate stroke. “fuck. that feels so good,” he breathed out, his eyes closing as ecstatic pleasure washed over him.

a smile played upon your lips as you ran your thumb gently along the tip, eliciting a shudder from him. bending forward, you allowed your mouth to wrap around him, taking him in with a fervor that mirrored his own. his moans grew deeper, his hair becoming a playground for your fingers as you took him deeper in a slow, rhythmic dance of pleasure. he guided your movements, his fingers tightening in your hair as he lost himself in the intoxicating sensation of your devoted ministrations. every movement was deliberate, every caress an illustration of mutual desire, until you took him right to the back of your throat. with a controlled swallow, you drew him even closer, and as he shuddered in response, you pulled back just enough for him to revel in the sight of you.

his dark, smoldering eyes met yours as he growled, “take off your pants,” his voice a husky command thick with need. yielding to his desire, you shed your jeans with a graceful shimmy, casting them aside as the room’s light softened into a sultry shadow. now bare and unguarded, your vulnerability only heightened your allure, your exposed skin a canvas for his longing.

he reached out, his hand warm around your wrist as he pulled you nearer for another fierce, passionate kiss. his lips collided with yours in a desperate melding, a fiery exploration that seemed to devour every lingering hesitation. his tongue danced once more against yours in a slow, sensual ballet, reigniting the tension between you both. the kiss deepened, the rhythm guided by mutual hunger until, with a gentle but insistent motion, he backed you onto the bed and pressed you against the soft mattress.

his embrace enveloped you as his body claimed the space above you, and his mouth resumed its tender exploration, trailing heated kisses along your face and neck. each touch, each soft chained movement of his hips, amplified your desire. “i want you,” he murmured again, his words punctuating the soft moans that filled the charged air. “then take me,” you whispered back, barely audible over the racing of your heart.

the passion surged anew as he shifted, his body quivering with anticipation. rising with fluid grace, he repeated the ritual of shedding his clothes, revealing that same thick, throbbing member—an embodiment of raw desire punctuated by its glistening tip. the sight of him stoked the flames of your longing until a familiar, overwhelming craving began to consume you.

“come here,” you breathed once more. he returned to your side, settling beside you with an air of confident intimacy. you reached out instinctively, capturing him in your hand with a warmth and smoothness that sent shivers of pleasure through him. your slow, deliberate strokes elicited a gasp of satisfaction from him. “fuck. that feels incredible,” he murmured, eyes closing in raptured delight. you smiled in response, your thumb caressing his sensitive tip as his hips jerked in ecstatic motion. leaning forward, you let your mouth envelop him again in a fervent, rhythmic dance, his moans intensifying as your devoted attention drew him deeper into waves of pleasure. your movements were guided by instinct, drawing him right to the depths of your desire. as he shuddered in ecstatic release, you pulled back slightly, allowing that shining beacon of desire to glimpse the light.

meeting his dark, desirous gaze, he growled softly, “take off your pants,” his voice a husky plea that resonated with the raw urgency of the moment. with graceful surrender, you slipped out of your jeans, casting them aside into the shadows as anticipation thickened the air. naked and completely exposed, every inch of your skin pulsed with desire and vulnerability—a perfect invitation. 

he reached for your wrist once more, drawing you in with a possessive strength as his lips claimed yours in a desperate, burning kiss. his tongue reached out in a slow, deliberate dance, each touch fanning the flames of longing. the soft pressure of his cock against your thigh served as a constant, insistent reminder of the passion simmering between you. in that fervid embrace, cloaked by the darkness of the room and the intensity of shared desire, every brush, every kiss, every sigh wove an intricate tapestry of intimacy where nothing existed but the two of you, lost in the profound language of passion. 

his hands moved with a tender ferocity, charting paths of pleasure along your waist and hips. all hesitations melted away in the white-hot blaze of longing. he positioned himself above you, his cock brushing teasingly against your bare skin, each contact an electric promise.

“now,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that echoed through you. your breath caught as he pushed into you with a measured, deliberate motion, filling you completely. a moan escaped your lips—a sound of pure surrender—as he began his slow, steady rhythm. you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer still, each thrust a testament to the heat building between you.

the bed creaked beneath the weight of your passion, a symphony of desperate desires finding their crescendo. his pace quickened, urgency mounting as he drove deeper and faster with every movement. each thrust brought with it a spark that spread wildfires through your body until you were burning up in an inferno of ecstasy.

his name tumbled from your lips, a breathless chant as he pushed you both toward the edge. that final thrust—a perfect mix of force and tenderness—sent you spiraling into a release so intense it dissolved you. 

“fuck,” he gasped, shuddering violently as he came. his body arched, and the last of his control slipped away with a groan that seemed to reverberate through the very air around you. the warmth of his release spilled inside you, sending aftershocks rippling through your limbs.

the heat of the moment lingered like an electric charge, crackling in the silent aftermath. he collapsed beside you, chest heaving, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he pulled you against him. you nestled into the crook of his arm, feeling utterly weightless and completely consumed by an all-encompassing warmth.

your heartbeats gradually slowed from their frantic rhythm, syncing in a harmonious thrum that filled the quiet room. he

brushed the hair from your face, his eyes still dark with the afterglow of desire. “you’re amazing,” he murmured, and the sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a gentle caress.

a smile curved on your lips as you nuzzled closer, feeling his skin—a mix of soft and firm—against yours. the room was thick with the familiar scent of spent passion and sweat, a perfume that made you feel raw and alive.

“we’re amazing,” you replied softly, a playful tease brightening your words. your fingers traced lazy patterns against his chest, reveling in the simple connection of touch. you let out a small, contented sigh as you felt him hardening again against your leg, the insatiable need between you both beginning its pleasant burn once more.

with a fluid motion, he rolled you onto your back again, his mouth finding yours in another deep, claiming kiss that reignited all your senses. his body pressed down on you,

heavy with the full weight of his desire, and you arched up to meet him in an instinctive, heated response. every inch of you reached for him, needing him closer, deeper, as his hips settled against yours in a perfect fit.

the urgency of the second wave pulsed through you both, immediate and insistent. this time it was frantic and raw—a desperate need that had no patience for tenderness or restraint. his rhythm was fierce and demanding from the start, as though he intended to consume you entirely.

your moans intermingled breathlessly with his, filling the air in a wild chorus of primal longing. each thrust sent sparks through you until the sensation grew so intense it bordered on unbearable pleasure. your nails dug into his back, urging him on as you raced together toward a shared oblivion.

barely audible above your cries, he whispered your name—an invocation that undid you completely. with one final surge, he plunged into you and everything exploded into white-hot

heat. the world vanished, leaving only the two of you, suspended in an endless instant of ecstasy.

he spilled into you with a shuddering moan that merged with your own, and you felt each pulse as it echoed through you in waves, binding you together in its molten wake. you clung to him, breathless and shaking, as reality gradually returned, every nerve still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

his weight settled against you, grounding you as you both floated back to earth. you breathed him in—sweat and desire mingling into something beautifully intoxicating—and a deep sense of satisfaction unfurled within you.

“wow,” he gasped finally, his voice thick with wonderment and exhaustion. he shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around you as his body relaxed into a warm sprawl beside yours. you melted into the embrace, feeling utterly spent yet perfectly content, his heart still pounding a chaotic rhythm against your side.

you laughed softly, a sound of pure, unguarded joy. “i hope your neighbors like symphonies,” you quipped, breathless and teasing as your fingers resumed their gentle exploration of his skin. 

he chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated pleasingly through you. “they’ll be jealous,” he replied, leaning in to kiss the curve of your neck with surprising tenderness.

you basked in the moment, the world outside fading into insignificance against the magnetism of his presence. exhaustion and exhilaration mingled within you, leaving you pleasantly lightheaded and blissfully sated.

“stay,” he murmured into your ear, an invitation laden with more than just the promise of another night together. the word hung in the air—a fragile thing that threatened to dissipate if you moved too quickly.

you hesitated for just a heartbeat before nodding against him, feeling his hold tighten slightly as though he feared you might slip away. “i’ll stay,” you said softly.

omd, this is the longest fic i've ever written. not the best work of mine it was lil rushed lawl. but hope u guys liked it either way!! please like and reblog <33 tags: @juicygirl4life

[alltheusernamesweretakenwtf]

Oh fuck...

college tutor jake drabble 👅👅 (as a struggling college student i need to be railed by him so bad)

AFTER CLASS! 심재윤

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ NSFW + MDNI! sim jaeyun x fem!reader ⸝⸝⸝ college au, nerd!jake, popular!reader, switch!jake, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, failed pull out, mentions contraception and birth control, creampies, dirty talk, slight breeding kink

[notes༚] this is bad. but i am practicing with writing off the cuff pwp again after not writing it for a while so my skills are rusty lol. not proofread, let me know of any mistakes!

There was no way this could actually be happening. Jake had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or somehow he had slipped into a coma— something, anything that would explain how you were on top of him, but your warm, sweaty skin feels awfully real under his greedy, groping hands.

he can’t stop himself from feeling you up, gabbing and squeezing fat handfuls of your ass as it shakes in his face; he’s been fantasizing about fucking you since he first laid eyes on you, two long years of yearning and being convinced that he would never get to. you were popular, a cheerleader, the life of the party… and he was just some nerd in a few of your classes. You never even looked his way.

Or so he thought.

Not only did you look at him, you approached him, and asked him to tutor you in your shared mathematics class— he was over the moon.

And now you were naked in his lap, textbooks and papers tossed carelessly onto his bedroom floor, sliding your dripping wet cunt up and down the shaft of his fat, throbbing cock. your hand looks so tiny wrapped around him, pretty nails looking so lewd covered in his precum.

“Do you want me to put it in, Jakey?” you look over your shoulder to coo at him sweetly, melodic voice like honeyed venom.

“O-oh, fuck.” Jake whimpers, his thick framed glasses fogging up from how hard he was panting. “Please! Oh my God, please, please—“

You giggle, delighting in how you’ve already fucked him stupid before you’ve even slid it in. “Alright, but you have to promise not to cum inside of me, alright? I’m not on the pill.”

The thought makes his head swirl. That pretty little pussy you keep flashing in his face is better than any porn he’s ever seen, and to see it creamy and leaking his cum? “O-okay…” he agrees unsteadily, not in the slightest bit confident in his pull out skills.

tortorously slowly do you align his tip to your entrance, blunt bulbous cockhead stretching your pussy lips wide apart to dip into your fluttering hole—

And stop. You shoot him an evil little smile, your eyes dark and daring, and you keep your hips completely still.

Jake just can’t take it anymore. He grabs your hips and tugs you backward, roughly sitting you on his cock in one fluid motion. your pussy’s so wet he slides in without resistance, impaling you impossibly deep. He swore he could feel himself knocking against your belly button.

The shriek you let out is ungodly, a beautiful broken cry that makes Jake's cock twitch. The sensation has you clenching down around him, whimpering as you try to adjust to his size.

“s-so fucking big!” you keen, your eyes rolling back in your head and your mouth dropping open into a perfect ‘o’, “s-so— ah!— it’s so deep, Jakey!”

“Shhh.” Jake soothes you, surprisingly strong arms holding you tight and beginning to bounce you up and down on his cock. His hips thrust up to meet you halfway every time, the force sending shockwaves of red hot pleasure through the both of you. Your pussy makes a filthy wet squelching sound every time your hips meet, drenching his lap in your juices. “Shhh, just take it.”

He pounds you relentlessly, his quick, rough pace never stuttering or slowing down. Your pussy feels like heaven, wet gummy walls squeezing around his throbbing cock and sucking him in deeper and deeper, like it was feeling greedy and begging for more.

“F-feels so f-fuckin’ good,” he whimpers, broad chest shaking with his unsteady breath, “I-I— ah, ah, ah! Fffuckk!”

You squeeze around him purposefully, peeking over your shoulder to watch his face as he loses himself in pleasure. His foggy glasses had slid down to the very tip of his broad nose, threatening to fall off.

When his eyes refocus, they meet yours, and the crooked, devious grin that stretches across his face makes your stomach flip.

Without warning his arm shoots up and grabs you by the back of the neck, shoving your face into the mattress. You’re bent completely over on all fours, spread open and immobilized while he jackhammers up into you. “L-love this pussy~” he moans, his words quickly losing meaning with his brains leaking out of his ears.

Your noises are muffled by the blankets, but Jake’s pretty sure they weren’t words anyway— just broken moans and mindless babbling. Your cunt pulsates around him, slick walls molding to every vein and curve, the pleasure of his cockhead bumping against your cervix pulling pathetic little whimpers from his plump lips that grow louder and louder as his ecstasy builds. He’s never felt pleasure quite like this before, so delicious and intense that it was bordering on overstimulating— his orgasm barrels towards him at an alarming speed, a familiar heat coiling deep in his belly far too soon for his liking.

“i-i’m— ngh! Fuck, i’m gonna—“

His climax hits him before he can even the sentence, only able to pull out halfway before ultimately spilling all of his seed inside your pussy. He watches, transfixed, as it begins to leak from your abused little hole, but he can feel your angry glare on him.

“Sorry...” he says, not sounding sorry at all.

“You’re buying me the warning after pill.” You reply grumpily.

[glitterjay]

SYNOPSIS: jake's mind and imagination make him think of a new approach to have sex. after all, experimenting is fun.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: had this idea while i was... yk... and then i couldn't stop thinking about it so here you go! extra point to whoever remembers this old blog 🤧

WARNINGS: use of a vibrator, insertion, unprotected sex, getting caught masturbating (fem), top!jake, pet names, mention of period, minors dni

you were having the time of your life. jake had gone out with his friends, and you took this as an opportunity to play with yourself and give your pussy a little treat.

you were ovulating, which was a sign of your period nearing, and this made your hormones go absolutely crazy. luckly enough, you had a vibrator that jake had gifted you a while back when he went to a family vacation.

he said it was to help you feel less lonely, but you were not allowed to feel better than how he makes you feel with his cock.

you werent sure at what time jake would be back, and you didnt care if you were being honest. the pleasure from that tiny toy was enough to have you seeing stars and arching your back. your eyes were rolled all the way to the back of your head, so you weren't aware of jake standing by the door with his mouth wide open.

the little light on his head dinged when he saw you were using the vibrator he had gifted you, and he made his presence known by clearing his throat.

"shit, jake! you scared the crap out of me."

"looked like you were having a good time, but i didn't like how i wasn't the one making you moan like that."

"well, move it then."

jake lost no time and got rid of the sweat he had changed into when he walked into the house, and jumped in bed with you.

"i have an idea," he said. this made you excited, as jake always had crazy ideas and experiments when it came to being in bed.

"sit on top of me, but dont move, mkay?"

you nodded and followed his instructions, making yourself comfortable on top of his crotch. he introduced his dick in you, but neither of you moved per his request.

"that a girl," he praised. jake grabbed the vibrator you had left behind next to him, and turend it on to the highest setting.

"what are you doing?" you asked. "you'll see," he replied.

he placed the vibrato on the base of his cock, and groaned when he felt the sensation run across his entire shaft. you, on the other hand, clenched around him because you were also able to hear the vibrations.

"see, princess? now we have a way to feel good when neither of us feels like doing too much.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[enjakey]

Beneath the Blue

Pairing: marine engineer!Jake x marine biologist!Fem!Reader

Hey guys, I realise this fic is like really long (24k). I’m so sorry but it’s just something I’ve been holding out on. Life’s been stressful and writing was the only thing that kept me afloat and I kinda belted this out during my sleepless nights. This is definitly not proof read.

So I guess I wanted to give you guys like a guide on how to read the fic. Each section or chapter is marked by bolded words in the beginning of a paragraph (you’ll understand when you read it). If you’re only here for the cutesy stuff, you can go ahead and skip to the fourth chapter but you’ll loose all context of the story and how everyone is related to each other. The first two chapters is just a lot of world and character building. The third chapter is where things actually start.

If you’re interested in marine biology and sea creatures, this is a perfect read. I talk a lot about sharks and whales and sea creatures. There’s a lot of insight on what marine biologists do in general. There’s suggestive stuff in the end of the seventh chapter and smut in the tenth chapter if you want to skip to that. Jay, Heeseung and Jay are a huge part of the fic (but not the plot?). There is mentions of PTSD and a storm.

I want to mention that this story is not just about Jake and Y/N’s romance but about a group of people’s love for the ocean. The other characters are important for me too and the world I’ve built is dear to me. Hope you guys enjoy! I Put a lot of time effort into this! Please like and reblog and comment.

Summary: taken under the wing of the great marine biologist Henry Sim, Y/N finds herself getting close to him and his family. She’s friends with his first son, Jason, but is apprehensive of his second son, Jake. Jake, who is notorious for his bad behaviour and disappointing decisions, finds himself being drawn to Y/N and her undeniable love towards the ocean. When the two are put together in a group of researchers for an expedition for three months on the ocean, she doesn’t expect herself to fall for him- let alone, fight storms for him.

Y/N was one of those unfortunate kids who had to be in a hospital during her birthday. She was eleven at the time, the age where she was learning to read and write on her own and didn't fuss with her mother to help her bathe or dress up. She considered it her golden age where she was just starting to learn about her interests by surfing the internet through her father's phone and transitioning from cartoon shows to movies. At school, she would talk about action films, starring Tom Cruise or Angelica Jolie, rather than the deemed childish Disney movies where the Jonas Brothers were thrown into a music camp or in which a girl hides her identity by switching wigs.

An unwanted growth, widely mistaken as a malignant tumour by many doctors, was manifesting on the bone just above her eyebrow and she had reached the age where surgeons could successfully remove it without life-threatening complications. Y/N was initially scared, refusing to get out of bed in the morning and crying while she was taken to the Operating Room. In that moment of panic and fear, she didn't feel like the brave and mature girl she thought herself to be but somewhat similar to the girls on the playground who still talked about Barbie dolls and played around with make-up sets as though they could ravishingly decorate their faces with cheap lip gloss and colourless eyeshadow.

When she woke up from an anaesthetic daze, she took a moment of silence to compare herself with the other children in her class. If any kid was in her situation, being taken into surgery by a group of a dozen strangers who were only trusted because of a piece of paper- their certificate- that was meant to credit their skill, they would flail the way she had. The girls she avoided, the mean and blonde-haired ones who snickered at anyone who didn't wear skirts and pink bows in their hair and bragged about their powerful daddy's luxurious car, would probably react the way she did, perhaps even a little more dramatically. The boys she arbitrated, the cocky and lanky ones that talk about Fortnight and whatever online games they played, would probably wail like babies. But Y/N was different, whatever that meant for a girl her age, withholding herself from succumbing to middle school's criteria for popularity and burrowing herself into a circle of comfort. She was the girl that wore glasses and carried around a thick book about animals to read during lunch and she was the girl that only had one friend because they were both weird and quiet. She was the girl that cried before the surgery because she didn't trust the surgeons and not because she was convinced her parents were selling her to an organ-harvesting cult.

While she assumed most children her age would be amused by artistic renditions of unicorns and rainbows painted on the wall, she found them rather tacky. Their eyes were too shiny and their smiles were too wide and the only thing she found realistic were the tiny chips of paint in the bright colours. There was a painting of Jake the Dog from Adventure Times sitting right above her hospital bed, staring down at her with lifeless and beady eyes while she tried sleeping during the night because the hospital wanted to keep her for observation for a day or two after the surgery, increasing the service bill at the same time. Then, there was the poorly mimicked roar of a lion stained to the wall on the right side of her bed, making her wonder if these paintings were done by previously admitted children. To the wall on the right side of her bed, right below the window, was the painting of a grinning shark and a randomly doodled jellyfish.

"That looks like the Black Sea Nettle," she pointed at the jellyfish with her nimble finger.

It was early in the morning and her mother had willed her awake from her slumber so one of the doctors could check on her vitals and change her bandaid. Y/N chewed on a green apple slice her mother handed her because she refused to eat the red apples, and patiently waited until the doctor, or Doctor Karev, as he called himself, could finish writing on a piece of paper they called a chart and changing the cotton wedged between her eyebrow and white gauze. She glanced at the painting from the corner of her eye, finding it eerily similar to a picture she saw in the book her father gifted her on her ninth birthday- The Encyclopedia of Animals.

"And that looks like a Bull Shark," she said and shifted her finger slightly so it was pointed at the cartoonish shark with a bulging stomach.

"Oh, yeah?" Doctor Karev scoffed and grinned similarly to the painted shark. His gaze didn't lift from the writing pad he held towards his face, a pen scribbling information that probably wasn't important. Her mother stood beside her, a proud smile on her face as she brushed Y/N's hair with her palm. "What can you tell me about it?"

"I know that their bite is much stronger than the Great White," she offered, shrugging and looking at her lap.

"Really?" Doctor Karev almost sounded sceptical. "Where'd you learn that?"

"A book," Y/N mumbled and pursed her lips.

Doctor Karev bent his knees enough to reach her level, tilting his head affectionately to grasp her attention. His pen was now hanging in his pocket, his writing pad pressed between his hand and thigh. "You're a smart girl, aren't you?" He praised her, impressed by her skill of comprehension. "You wanna become a marine biologist?"

"Marine biologist?"

The pair of words put together were foreign to Y/N but somehow, they sounded like they were meant to be beside each other, creating the word for the profession she had been dreaming of since she saw the picture of starfish lounging on a sea bed. Her eyes were filled with somewhat of a fascination, a sparkle reflected by what she considered a discovery and fate of luck and her smile grew ten folds, stretching her cheeks until the corners of her lips reached her ears. She looked like she was watching the stars while she looked at him, blinking and burning from a close distance as she marvelled at the masses.

"Yeah," Doctor Karev enthused. "You know, study the ocean and sea creatures and all that jazz."

"I'm gonna become a marine biologist!" She nodded, giggling like a baby that had been handed a lollipop bigger than its face. Except Y/N's lollipop was a profession, a dream to chase until it was fulfilled. Her mother laughed with her, shaking her head at her antics. "Mom, I wanna be a marine biologist!"

Doctor Karev chuckled and stood straight, making his way to the door of her hospital room and looking over his shoulder to steal one last glance at the girl he might have just paved a future for. "By the way," he said. "Happy birthday kid."

It was a crystal blue sight Jake could never get used to, and it was the fact that his family owned it that he could never wrap his head around. The aquariums ranged from floor-to-ceiling tanks holding hundreds of litres of water and aquatic species to small fish bowls holding the tiniest, most common breeds of fish. Any type of fish he could think of- sharks, whales, stingrays, eels, jellyfish and cephalopods- it was probably all there, confined between glass walls, concrete and artificially plated corals. And it could all be placed in the palm of his hand, the happiness of customers and livelihood of every creature in the building he stood in, under his control.

In all of Jake's life, he had only ever seen his father angry four times- three of those incidents pertaining to tragedies faced in The Marine Foundation of Korea, his most prized possession.

The first was when he was forced to step into court for the first time in his life. During the first week that it opened, a kid tripped and fell into an eel tank and was almost choked by a Black Spotted Eel. The kid was lucky they weren't electric but Henry Sim was still faced with a million-dollar lawsuit which they won after giving security camera footage that showed the boy clearly wandering off into prohibited territory and climbing ladders into the opening of the tanks. It wouldn't be the first lawsuit they faced as a similar one followed two years later when a little girl started crying because her necklace fell into the dolphin pool and one of them devoured it.

Two years later, one of three Whale Sharks had passed away in front of a live audience causing the building to rumble as the carcass made contact with the forged ocean bed and children to wail in confusion as one of their favourite shark buddies was sinking to the floor. Hundreds of people took videos and the news went viral online, causing critics to criticise the maintenance and care for the captive creatures. As this information circled to tourists, they didn't have customers and a proper flow of income for the following six months until they announced the new exhibit for the endangered Vaquita Dolphin. Jake remembered the terrible nights of those six months when his father would come home drunk or would shatter glasses onto the walls. He wondered how his mother coped with him. He wondered how he and his brother didn't perceive him as a monster yet.

A year later, The Marine Foundation of Korea would face another tragedy. One of the shark tanks exploded in the middle of the night, causing Hammerheads and Tiger Sharks to swim through the halls of the first floor in shallow waters. Guards were panicking and emergency services took hours to reach the aquarium before they could assess and plan a rescue. The aquarium was shut down for two months and they spent time reinstating the shattered shark tank and brewing up safety measures for when similar situations would occur again. That night, they lost two Hammerhead Sharks and one Tiger Shark and had to pay thousands of dollars as compensation. Though his father didn't violently drink, he had become dangerously silent in those two months, scaring the living daylights out of his wife and children.

Henry Sim, the founder of The Marine Foundation of Korea and the most remarkable marine biologist known to all generations, had faced lawsuits that almost made him go bankrupt and was hated by the internet for months until he publicly apologised yet he would say his biggest disappointment wouldn't lie in the way his aquarium was run. Rather, he would say his biggest disappointment lay in his son, Jake Sim, who refused to take in his footsteps and fulfil his dreams of creating an empire of nepotism to take over the world of marine biology someday.

"You never listen to me," Henry seethed with a balled fist resting on his ebony table. His voice was entirely stark for the disappointment he felt towards his son.

If Jake concentrated enough, he could hear the movement of each aquatic species in the tanks he was surrounded by. The bubbly and almost ear-blocking white noise engulfed him sometimes and he would be transported to an unnamed beach where the sand was white and the waters were so clear, he could see the corals growing underneath. He liked to imagine himself floating in the waters in shorts and an oversized white t-shirt, eyes closed as the sun beat down on his porcelain skin. That was all the ocean was to him; someplace to enjoy and someplace to destress. But to his father, it was a career he made billions in and it was a career he wanted both his sons to endeavour in.

"I've been telling you since I was a kid, appa," Jake sighed, standing on the other side of the ebony table. "I want to study engineering. Marine biology, researching new species, the ocean… All of that has always been a hobby for me. Besides, you have Jason to take over your legacy anyway. I don't get why you're so hung up on me studying it, too."

In the corner of his father's office stood a small, well-kept fish tank with a lone seahorse in it. It was the Knysna Seahorse, to be exact, the rarest seahorse in the world which Jason, his brother, gifted their father as a gift. He had paid quite an amount of money to get a hold of it and the reason for the gift? It was because he had finally graduated with a marine biology degree a few months ago and Jake was to finally attend the same university.

But he didn't want to and his entire family was very well aware of the fact.

"Don't you understand what I want for you two, though?" Henry slammed his fist against the table but Jake offered no reaction. "Don't you see the future I see for you two? Brothers taking over marine biology's legacy? It’s not too late for you to change your major."

"No," Jake stomped a foot to the ground, eyes squinting to slits. "That's your dream. Not mine. I get that you and your brother never got along and that you want your sons to get along and run a business. But I don't want that. Jason and I are fine as it is and you coming in between my dreams is just gonna drive me away from you further."

"Jake-"

"If eomma were here, she would understand," Jake took long strides towards the door, a hand digging into the pocket of his slacks as the other twisted the doorknob. "I just wish you'd understand," and his voice muffled under the slam of the door, leaving Henry dumbfounded in his seat, mouth agape and glasses sliding off his nose.

With his son leaving so disrespectfully, using his wife's death as emotional manipulation, he wanted to shun Jake right then and there. He wanted no relation to him whatsoever but he knew it was his anger speaking. And he knew that if he hastily cut him off his earnings and stopped paying for his education, he would regret it and Jason would condemn him as a worse father than he already was.

So, Henry let him walk away and he went back to work, fixing his glasses and clearing his throat as if nothing happened. Jake was still young, he'd tell himself. If he wanted to follow his dreams, he should let him. Henry was selfish, he accepted it and his ego clashed with his conscience but he brushed it off and walked out of his office with more errands to complete. The moment he entered the hall with tanks of jellyfish surrounding him, the sounds of their bodies pushing through water syncing with his racing, angry heart, his assistant joined his side with a clipboard and pen, her heels overpowering the serenity of his silence.

“What’s next on today’s itinerary?” Henry asked with his hands clasped behind his back, strides becoming slower with every step.

“You need to meet with the university students today, sir,” Hae, his assistant, stated as though she expected him to remember the important occasion.

“Don’t speak to me in that tone,” he grumbled. “Of course I remember.”

“I’m assuming the talk with your son went badly?”

“I don’t know what to do with him, Hae.”

With this sigh echoing the moment, the pair made their way through the shark exhibit that costed him millions of dollars to fix all those years ago and sauntered past the stingray tanks, wondering how he was going to be an inspiration to a group of marine biology students while he felt like a failure of a father. He wondered what else he had to contribute to the field of marine biology when he had prioritised it for his entire life. It was the reason why his son hated him and it was the reason why he lost his wife- it was his lack of presence and immense ignorance that put him in a place where he truly had nothing else to lose. He had the money, the cars, the friends to brag with and an eldest son who was succeeding in life without his help- but then there was his youngest, defying him in all manners and reminding him of the mistakes that haunted his life.

However, a beacon of hope, a ray of sanguine had entered his life that day and he wouldn’t realise it until he was laying on his deathbed. In the group of future marine biologists he met that day was Y/N, standing amongst the crowd meekly with a notebook and a pen to jot down everything that she thought would help her education and career. She was the one answering questions in a whisper when no one else knew the answer, her hand barely raised in the air. When Henry saw her, her hair tied in a ponytail and clothes put together in a hurry that made her look pathetic, he could only smile. Because as he looked at her, he saw himself- the version of him that was left in the gates of his college, the version of him that had to be left back in order to become the tycoon that he was now.

So before the group of university students left, he found himself asking Y/N for a conversation and pulled her towards the gift shop while the rest of her classmates waited at the gate, murmuring and whispering about what they could be talking about. Henry placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and smiled at her the way a mentor would smile at his mentee. He had a proud smile on his face as he said, “I think you’d make an amazing marine biologist one day.”

“What?” Y/N, the poor girl, having been put down by her classmates her whole life, was gaping at his statement. Her eyes reflect a sense of hope and surprise under the golden lights of the gift shop.

“Yes,” Henry nodded enthusiastically. “I would like it if you worked with me, I could easily offer you a job,” he said. He shuffled his hand around in the pocket of his blazer and pulled out his business card and handed it to her, certain that it would come in handy for her future. “When you’re ready for a job or an internship- anything, just call me and I’ll help you out.”

Henry walked away from her, leaving his future student dumbfounded. Her eyes fixated on the business card in her hands, her thumbs and forefingers outlining the corners of the rectangle. It was a navy blue colour, his name, number and The Marine Foundation of Korea carved in golden ink. It looked like her ticket to a new life, the life she had chased since she was a little kid carrying around an encyclopaedia of animals. It was the golden ticket in her Charlie and The Chocolate Factory.

It was a good analogy in her head. Henry Sim, the man with greying hair and diminishing eyesight, was Willy Wonka and she was Charlie, the lost boy that simply wanted a taste of something better, something great. So when it was time for her to get an internship, Henry had taken her under his wing.

“You must be Y/N.”

When Y/N started off as an intern, she started questioning whether she had made the right choice. Some of her friends were off travelling the seven seas to research unknown species of the depths and others were working in labs established on beach sides. They were living in tropical islands like the Caribbean or Hawaii and their instagrams were filled with them in diving gear and sea creatures in their natural habitats. Y/N had always dreamt of a life as such, to swim with sharks and study their behaviours or to explore the depths of the ocean floor within the safety of a yellow submarine. She imagined she would travel the world by the time she graduated college and she imagined spending most of her days on a boat, whale watching or spotting dolphins.

There was that one semester in college where she got an experience as close to what she imagined. She, along with a few other promising students, were selected to spend a semester on sea where they spent learning how to dive and sail ships. It was a memorable four months, really, to spend it with a group of people she later called friends and bonding with people on sea over half cooked fish. In that time, though the most astonishing creature they spotted was a Red Octopus, she assumed she was being trained for the future she had always dreamed of, only to end up within the confines of an aquarium- Asia’s largest aquarium, granted. Her job description as an intern included watching other employees take care of the confined species or listening to Henry, the founder, teach her more about the marine species while she took notes. There were the occasional times she was asked to write a research paper, which she did with Jason but she would much rather prefer doing the same in a lab on the beach or on a boat sailing across the Pacific Ocean.

During this time, she pondered if she should have just followed her father’s footsteps in becoming an astronomer. She would look back at her childhood when her father would teach her about constellations and planets while she looked through the giant telescope that was perched on their roof and she would wonder if such a job would make her happier. She recalled the stories her mother would tell her as a Greek historian and wondered if she should have majored in History instead. She even wondered if she should have followed her friends into their jobs instead of taking the internship in the first place. Her uncertainties came to a halt a year ago, though, when Henry promoted her as manager.

In the five years that Y/N started working in The Marine Foundation of Korea, she learnt the names and voices of everyone working there. As the manager, it wasn’t only her job but also her duty to do so, to know who she was working with and grow a personal relationship with the people around her. She knew that one of the janitor’s kid had a heart condition and she would visit him in the hospital once in a while. She knew that one of the divers working for the aquarium was in a long term relationship and was planning on proposing to his girlfriend soon- she could recognise his voice even while he struggled to speak underwater. She also knew that her boss and legal guardian, Henry Sim, had ambitions he could never fulfil because of his youngest son.

One could call her the all-knowing within the walls of the aquarium. Not only was she intelligent, she was the keeper of all the employees’ worries and burdens.

In those five years that she spent reaching her level of success, to be able to buy her own apartment in an expensive neighbourhood and to be able to afford to buy a new phone without double-checking her bank account, she had learned a lot of tricks to perfect the skills of managing the establishment that she ran when the owner wasn’t present. A once shy and timid girl became the hard-headed, thick skinned superior that demanded precision in completed work and pristine publications of whatever research papers they release. But when she wasn’t acting that way, she was calm and walked down the crystalline hallways of Korea’s beloved and prestigious aquarium with a welcoming smile.

Of all the people she knew that worked amongst the aquarium, of the few people she found herself acquainted with, the voice that was breathing into her ear from behind her did not belong to anyone she was familiar with. She could feel his chest ghosting against her back, his smirk louder than his voice could ever be. His hair brushed against her cheek and Y/N found herself spinning around with a scowl on her face.

“Jake,” she stated with discern, her obvious distaste towards him sitting heavily on her brows. His smirk only grew wider, his hand clasping behind his back as he leaned closer to her than before.

In the years that she’d known Henry and Jason Sim, she had grown rather close to them. They accepted her into their family by some sort and she was invited to every dinner they hosted in one of those fancy Chinese or Sushi restaurants- whether she attended or not was up to her. If she did attend though, she would be introduced to guests like she was Henry’s own daughter and Jason had always treated her like a sister by the way he kept her company throughout her years as an intern. Her parents, too, had grown quite fond of the father and son.

Jason and Y/N’s friendship, Henry always used to say, was unexpected. He expected them to work together and get along with each other for the sake of their jobs and business, but he was never expecting the siblingly bond they had created. Oftentimes, the pair would find themselves going out for lunch together during breaks or driving to the beach just for the sake of having some entertainment. They would regularly find themselves at each other's houses in the middle of the night with beers and soju in hopes of having movie marathons. Somewhere in that friendship, Y/N learnt a lot about the missing Sim brother.

He was studying Engineering somewhere in Australia, she learned, and he had only visited his family only a couple of times in all his years of education. There was the one time he flew back to Seoul to spend the New Year with Henry and Jason where she heard he got embarrassingly drunk and broke a glass table. Then there was the other time he visited for Christmas but disappeared within an hour without a word. Speaking of Jake meant hearing stories as such, where he was disrespectful, unexpectable and had no sense of respect. She heard that he once cussed at a shareholder because he was being too nosey.

Y/N had only ever met Jake once. Well, they didn’t exactly meet, she had just seen him passing by in a crowd. It was at another one of Henry’s lavish dinner parties where round tables were cloaked with gold cloth and napkins folded into cranes. Golden chandeliers lit above groups of conversations and amongst one of those stood Jake with overly styled hair and a suit too expensive to be bought with his own money. He was talking to some investors- or business men, she didn’t know- with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a wine glass he languidly sipped on. She was told by Jason that it was one of those rare times Jake didn’t make a scene during a party but she also heard he took a random girl to a hotel room for a one-night-stand, never to call her again.

“You say my name with such loathing,” Jake pointed out, his eyes narrowing as his teeth peeked behind his smirk. “I’d get if my dad and brother talked to me that way, but what did I ever do to you?”

Y/N took a step back, crossing her arms across her chest and tapping her heel lightly against the carpeted floor. She looked at him vexed, her mouth pursing into disinterest. Jake stood back straight, moving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tilting his head in curiosity. If Y/N didn’t know any better, she would call him a pervert and get him thrown out of the premises by one of the guards just because she wanted to.

“I’ve heard enough stories to make a judgement,” she stated firmly.

“Is that any way to talk to your boss’ son?” He taunted.

“I frankly don’t think he’d care.”

Jake chuckled, lowering his gaze to his feet and shaking his head. His smile was bright, the crystalline waters that surrounded them reflecting on his face. A HammerHead shark from the tank behind him swam across him, followed by a Sting Ray and those animals held more of her attention than he did. “Sorry we got off on the wrong foot, Y/N,” he said and sauntered away from her, assuming he was making his way towards his father’s office. Her eyes followed him but she looked away when he glanced at her from over his shoulder. Clearing her throat, she found herself walking towards another floor of the aquarium.

Jason was right, she thought, his accent really is annoying.

Instead of the tunnel she was observing before, she was now in a fairly confined room with rectangular fish tanks one over the other, covering the span of all four walls, apart from the door. In the tanks were miniscule jellyfish that were soon to be moved to one of the larger tanks for the public to gush at. Of all the places in the aquarium, this room was probably the one she visited the most. Not because it was her favourite or anything but rather because these creatures needed most inspection. If the temperature was changed even a little bit or if the water was getting too dirty, there was a chance that a whole batch of these jellyfish would simply disintegrate.

It had happened once before, not under her watch but some other intern, who failed to notice the decrease in temperature in the room. It was a waste of a lot of Henry's money and it was also one of his favourite species that had met their demise. Because of the intern’s mistake, he yelled at him in front of the majority of the other staff and fired him. Since then, Y/N had always been cautious around her work. Perhaps it was why he was always so fond of her- she never knew why.

“Y/N?”

She flinched when she heard Jason’s voice, his head peeking into the room from the small crack of the door.

“What is it with you and your brother scaring me today?” She breathed, her hand placed over her chest.

“You met him?”

“Yeah he was walking down the tunnel, made nice.”

“He annoyed you, didn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“His first impressions are always bad.”

Jason was leading her out of the room, bringing her to the ground floor where she saw tourists and customers flocking towards the ticket booth. If there was one thing about Henry she never understood, it was the fact that he refused to digitalise the ticketing system. In fact, he refused to digitalise many things in the aquarium. He had the physical copy of every research paper published by the The Marine Foundation of Korea and his logs were still done by hand. Technology hates me and I hate technology, he would always say and this mostly stemmed from the incident where he accidentally deleted all his pictures from Google Photos.

“Isn’t an excuse to breathe down my neck,” she argued as he led her to his office.

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” she pressed. “He talked to me like he’d heard of me.”

“Obviously he’s heard of you.”

“No, I mean,” she paused, looking to her side to make eye contact with him. She wasn’t sure how to explain it, so she stuttered and used animated hand gestures to make her point. “Like he knows me.”

“Yeah, well, dad and I talk about you to him all the time.”

“What the hell?”

“In like, a business way,” Jason defended. “He asks how work goes and you sometimes come up in the conversation.”

“And what do you tell him?”

“That you’re good at your job?” He raised his brow, a confused smile meeting her look of disbelief. “Don’t take it the wrong way, he’s honestly probably just jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Dad trusts you more than him, you know?”

Before Y/N had the chance to respond with a confused remark, perhaps even a puzzled expression, Jason was pushing open the door to Henry’s office and they were met with the sight of Henry sitting on his desk and Jake standing beside him with a grin, leaning towards whatever he was being shown on the monitor screen. Jason and Y/N settled in the chairs on the other side of the desk, the former confidently crossing one ankle over the other knee and the former confused as to why she was there in the first place. Jason had to tug her sleeve to keep her from squirming and looking around confused. There was a moment of silence that passed, Y/N’s gaze zipping between Henry and the tanks his office was surrounded by. Henry murmured to Jake while pointing at his monitor, analysing something Y/N and Jason weren’t aware of. Jake nodded along, pinching at his bottom lip in thought.

“Y/N?” Henry called. She answered with a curious hum, her brows raising. “You’re free next week? Thursday?”

“Yes, why?”

“Well, you know,” Henry brought his attention away from the monitor and towards her, pushing his glasses farther up his nose with his pinky. “I told you about it. An old friend of mine is opening a restaurant with a huge tank. He wants us there on opening night.”

“Oh, right. I remember,” she nodded.

“What, Mr. Bahng didn’t invite me?” Jake stood back straight with his arms crossed, his grin refusing to leave his expression. He looked between his father and brother, only glancing at Y/N once before continuing to tease them.

They, of course, did not find him amusing. “All of us, Jake,” Jason replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, and it’s going to be a rather quiet gathering,” Henry continued. “So I expect you to be on your best behaviour.”

“When have I ever let you down, father?” Jake chuckled; Henry rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Y/N,” Henry looks at her with tired eyes. “He’s got all sorts of fish in his tank, he’s even got a Whale Shark in there-”

“Woah, what?”

“Yeah, I know, it cost a fortune but anyways,” Henry waved off. “He wants to know fun facts- his words, not mine- about all the species he’d got in there so could you be a dear and…?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Y/N grinned and patted Henry's hand that rested on his desk. “Anything but having to socialise with strangers.”

“Can I join her?” Jason chimed, pointing his thumb towards her.

In that moment, Henry glanced between his son and favourite-slash-best employee and they resembled children asking whether they could take a break from studying to watch cartoons. His eyes twitched, thinking that he didn’t want to deal with annoyance other than his younger son. “No,” Henry said. “You’re socialising with strangers. So are you, Jake.”

Jake, who was about to open his mouth to protest with a finger raised in the air, gulped and dropped his hands down to his sides and nodded with pursed lips.

The opening night to Mr. Bahng’s restaurant was a spectacle. What was planned as an intimate gathering turned into a media spectacle. Paparazzi flocked the entrance of the restaurant and bodyguards had to hold back the public as the handsome sons of Henry Sim, the founder of The Marine Foundation of Korea, walked the red carpet. Minor celebrities, a few actors and foreign entertainers attended the evening- some spotted the Jenner Sisters and others hollered at Jason Momoa and Leo DiCaprio. DiCaprio was an old friend of Henry’s- they met through ocean conservation funds and over the years, he had earned a permanent place on Henry’s invite list and vice-versa. Y/N had the pleasure of meeting him once, barely for a few minutes, for a hand shake and to be introduced as the aquarium’s manager and top researcher.

Y/N walked the red carpet with her arm looped with Jason’s, her free hand holding the hem of her sparkly dress in order not to trip in the ruckus. Her hand would occasionally come up to shield her eyes from the camera flashes and Jason had to repeatedly catch her frame because she was tripping on her heels. They were both dreading to see how the paparazzi pictures would turn out the next morning. Jake, on the other hand, walked confidently with a hand in his pocket and the other waving and blowing kisses at everyone. Photographers and netizens were gawking at the Australian engineer graduate, asking for pictures and photographs but ultimately being turned down. He was famously known on the internet for his looks, Prince Charming-like looks and mannerisms. His personality? It was a mystery to all those on the internet, further feeding into delusions of young fan-girls. It was only Jason and Henry that filmed for interviews for the world of marine-biology, often showing up on the news to promote The Marine Foundation of Korea or to talk about their next big break-through in marine sciences.

Henry and Mr. Bahng were the last to walk the carpet- they were the highlight of the event, after all. When they finally entered the restaurant, the glass doors were shut and bolted behind them, bodyguards taking their place in front of the premises like they were protecting The Sphinx. What was inside the restaurant might as well be as valuable as The Sphinx- there were barely any lights to illuminate the subtle interiors of the restaurant. Circular tables spanned the floor, glass windows towering the walls for the public to see inside if it weren’t for the black curtains. Everything else was painted black, too- the walls, the tables, the black marbled floors. The tank however… The tank glowed blue, just like the tanks in the aquarium. It spanned the entirety of one of the four walls in the restaurant. Schools of fish swam by, accompanied by Stingrays, Hammerhead and Leopard sharks. A lone Mola Mola swam by, its eye holding a vacant stare as it scanned the spans of the restaurant on the other side of the glass.

The showstopper, however, would only make its presence when Y/N finally made her way towards the exhibit. Her heels clicked against the black marble, one hand holding the hem of her dress and the other clutching her purse. The loose strands that fell from her hair up-do fanned her shoulders and just as her bangs bristled her eyes, the Whale Shark swam past the tank. It glided effortlessly across the water, its massive and speckled body moving with a hypnotic grace, throwing Y/N into a trance. She stood in awe, eyes scanning for when she could see it again, acting like she didn’t see Whale Sharks everyday in the aquarium. It was the ambiance of the restaurant that made the tank more mesmerising, if she had to be honest. She’d never seen anything like it.

Jake didn’t get a chance to admire the premises yet, sucked into meeting the guests and investors with his father and brother. When he found a chance to slip away, he made his way to the bar and ordered himself a double shot of whiskey. He promised himself that it would be his first and last drink, remembering his promise of behaving for the night. The last time his father brought him to a public gathering, which was almost two years ago, he almost set the venue on fire and broke a glass table. Scowling at the memories he dug up, he took a seat on a black stool at the bar, wandering his eyes around the guests and seeing men and women of power mingle in unexpected cliques. Finally, his gaze landed on the tank, the main attraction of the night, its hue misting the ambience and painting his skin in a sparkling blue. He admired it, watching the Whale Shark languidly make its way back and forth across the tank, sucker fish clinging onto its skin and a lone Leatherback Turtle following it.

Eventually, his eyes dragged towards the far corner of the restaurant where he found the back of Y/N’s silhouette. She, too, was admiring the tank. Gripping his glass of whiskey, he made his way towards her, a sly smile gracing his lips and the whites of his eyes twinkling brighter with the blue hue. As he walked closer, he could make out the familiar color of her dress that he spent the whole limo-ride staring at. It was a sparkly blue and silver dress, thin straps that barely held the dress up her bust. Her hair was put up in a messy bun, two hair pins with silver sea turtles holding it in place. Her earrings matched her hair pins and her heels matched the silver of her dress. The blue hue colored her skin and he swore he was looking at a still-life painting.

“Where’d you get the dress from?”

Y/N looked over her shoulder to catch Jake’s smirk that she learned to despise through Jason’s anecdotes. The smirk that led to his many one-night-stands, his smirk that led to all the decisions that made his father angry at him, the smirk that led to disasters was the same smirk that was walking towards her. Her serenity pulled into annoyance and Jake could see it in her eyes, her brows wrinkling and her lips sneered.

“Hey, I’m just playing nice,” he offered, trying his best to shrug and surrender his motivations. He took another sip of his whiskey, keeping his gaze fixed on her expression.

Y/N turned her body to face him and now, his eyes were wandering down her frame, staring at all the curves of her body that her dress showed off, just as he did in the limo. “It’s an old dress, I wear it a lot,” she admitted. Then, she knocked a nod towards the glass in his hand. “Let me guess, fifth drink of the night?”

“Come on, the night just started,” he rolled his eyes, the gnarly smirk refusing to leave his expression. “It’s my only drink of the night. Promised dad I’d behave, remember?”

“Right,” she swallowed. The hand that was holding the hem of her dress moved to clutch her purse, both her hands pressing into stomach. A water came around with a tray of appetizers, ironic that it was all seafood. Jake finished his drink and handed the empty glass to the waiter, taking two pieces of appetizers- one for him and one for Y/N.

Silence engulfed them as they stood side by side, both now facing the tank and staring at the creatures and coral spanning across her, the only sound being the loud swishes of the water and their chewing. Y/N was not staring to admire anymore; she was staring to distract herself from the awkward presence, to pass time in any way that she could.

“Aren’t you supposed to be socialising?” Y/N asked, hoping he’d realise and leave.

“I’d rather stare at this than socialise,” Jake said, both his hands digging into his trousers.

He wasn’t sure what stories his father and Jason fed Y/N about him for her to hold onto her negative impression of her. She probably thought he hated his family’s line of work, to read about water and the ocean beds and fish all day. In reality, he loved marine biology, he truly did. But he wasn’t going to apologize for not seeing it as his career. Jake still went to the aquarium of every city he would visit, spent time reading the articles and journals his father published and watched marine documentaries in his free time. He even had a small fish tank in his apartment back in Australia- he had two Firefish Goby and two Cardinalfish. He loved marine biology so much, he specialised in marine engineering. He wasn’t sure if Y/N knew that.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jake turned to her. She raised her brows in curiosity, coaxing him to continue. “Why this?”

“What?”

“I mean, why this?” He pointed at the fish tank just as the Whale Shark swam past them again. “Fish tanks, standing in one place, staring, the aquarium. Why, when you could have gone to bigger research centers like in Hawaii, or something?”

Jake almost regretted asking the question when he saw the expression on Y/N’s face turn solemn. She brought her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing as though she was chewing her brain to find him the answer to his question. Not so she could give it to him but because she wanted to give it to herself. Why? She asked herself that, too.

“I don’t know, Jake,” she sighed. “It seemed right at the time and… I guess, I just didn’t know? Who would pass up an opportunity to work with Henry Sim, you know? He chose me. And I’m not saying I regret it, I’ve found family in him and Jason but I ask myself why, too. I miss being out on the waters.”

Ignoring all that she said about his father and brother, knowing it would trigger him, he smirked at her again. He knew how she felt, it was the same thing Jason used to tell him a few years ago. As mesmerising as aquariums were, being out in the sea and seeing marine creatures in the wilderness is like cutting to a surgery intern. Jake had only gone on an ocean expedition once his whole life. His father took him during high school while he was applying for universities in hopes of changing his mind about his major. Jake remembered loving it, being enamored and lost in what the ocean had to offer, to witness its mystery with his own eyes. But unfortunately for his father, it still wasn’t enough to replace his love for engineering.

“I get it,” he assured her. “Don’t worry though. It won’t be this way for long.”

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, to make him elaborate, they heard Henry hollering their names from across the restaurant. He was waving their hand at them, Jason standing beside him sulking in boredom. Jake and Y/N speed-walked towards him, joining him at the table along with a scholar of jellyfish biology.

“Bahng is going to give his speech soon. Sit,” Henry told the pair.

Mr.Bahng’s speech went on for longer than most would like. He stood in the middle of the room with a drink raised in the air, thanking his family, friends and colleagues for making his dreams come true. His daughter stood beside him, trying to calm his influenced-state but it had all only turned into a comical predicament. Y/N caught Jake eyeing the daughter, knowing she must have been one of his old conquests. Most women she knew of her age who ran in the same circles were all probably one of Jake’s old conquests. She wasn’t going to shame these women, she understood the appeal- the wide smile, the sparkling eyes, the smooth hair and dashing facial features. However, she wouldn’t miss a chance to shame Jake, especially around Jason.

Sick and bored of it all, Jason signaled to Jake to grab a drink with him at the bar. As the pair stood up, leaving Y/N alone with Henry and the jellyfish scholar, Henry questioned the pair.

“No more drinks for Jake,” he warned.

“One more can’t hurt. I’m fine,” Jake defended himself, only to be met by an eye roll and a wave of his hand, telling them to go away and come back soon.

The brothers ordered whiskey for themselves. They’ve been told all the men in their family were whiskey enthusiasts. So is their father- apart from the phase he had when he was an angry drunkard, hammered with cheap beer and vodka most of the nights. Now that it had subsided, he was back to whiskey and that too, only rarely.

“Have you not told Y/N yet?” Jake asked his brother as they settled down onto the tall stools. By then, Mr. Bahng’s speech had ended and the room erupted in small talk again. Y/N’s ears were probably being ripped off by the jellyfish scholar but knowing her, she was definitely enjoying the conversation.

“Told her what?” Jason looked at him with utter confusion.

“The research team? Summer expedition?” Jake tried jogging his memory.

“Oh, right!” Jason nodded, sipping on his drink and hissing when an ice cube touched his teeth- it was a pet peeve he’s had since he was young, but he loved the taste of cold beverages. “We wanted to surprise her. Dad knows how much she’s been waiting for this so we’re gonna tell her on a better day.”

“Oh, God. I was on the verge of telling her,” Jake frowned.

“But she doesn’t suspect anything, right?”

“Nope, not a thing.”

“Crisis averted, then!” Jason assured him. “Dad and I are still figuring out how to tell her. Got any ideas?”

“She hates me, I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear any good news from me,” Jake chuckled.

“Y/N doesn’t hate you,” Jason Looked at him baffled and confused, mouth pulled upwards in surprise.

Jake scoffed. “Yes,” he said. “She does. And it’s because of the crap you and dad feed her.”

“Jake, she doesn’t hate you. I know when Y/N hates someone and she doesn’t hate you,” Jason chuckled. “She’s just a bit apprehensive of you and I don’t blame her. You’re a character-”

“Thanks, man-”

“And she takes time with certain people. To be fair, people like you aren’t her scene.”

“I’m not her scene? The fuck does that mean?” Jake laughed, finishing the last of his drink.

“Jake, you’re the drink and let’s party kinda person. She’s not. She likes peace and quiet and books and fancy sofas to sit on. She’s just quiet, dude. Give her time.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Jake rolled his eyes.

Just then, Y/N found her way to Jason’s side, the click of her heels stopping at the stool beside him. She had an annoyed expression on her face, her eyes tired and almost lifeless. “Your dad’s calling. We’re going home,” she deadpanned and turned to walk away, the hem of her dress in one hand as her hips swayed with more vigour. She was sleepy and tired and if the limo didn’t drop her off at home, she was going to crash in Jason’s bed.

Sunlight danced across the crests, water stretching endlessly into a mosaic of light and motion. Gentle swells rolled beneath the research vessel while occasional whitecaps broke against the hull of the boat. Y/N lay stretched on the warmed deck, salty breeze tickling her stomach and bringing frizzy curls to her hair. Clad in a striped bikini, she left little to the imagination. It was an early morning for her, seagulls mulling over the Indian Ocean and skies still painted with a pink hue. Everyone on the team was still asleep and she took the opportunity to seize the morning.

The first person to wake up was Sunghoon, one of Jake’s friends, who happened to be an oceanographer and drone operator. He studied ocean currents and temperature changes and learned how to pilot drones in order to collect data on plankton blooms. Without him, the entire whale research expedition would be impossible. Sunghoon greeted Y/N with a drowsy smile, clad in only a pair of shorts himself, taking in the morning sunlight.

Following him was Jay, one of Jason’s friends, who was a cetologist and acoustic analyst. He was rubbing a towel against his wet hair, waving at Y/N who started to put on her shirt out of a slight insecurity that crept onto her cheeks. Behind him, Jason and Heeseung joined with plates of toasted bread and a carton of orange juice. Jason threw a piece of bread towards Y/N and she swiftly caught it, thanking him for breakfast.

Heeseung was known as a young prodigy in the field, perfecting his skills in steering and working as the boat captain and field technician. Jake, too, came aboard as a field technician- a marine engineer himself. In fact, If it weren’t for Jake, Henry Sim would probably have never agreed to this whale research expedition in the first place. Jake wanted to test out new equipment that was hitting the market and who better to test the equipment than The Marine Foundation of Korea? It took a lot of convincing and buttering up his father to convince, yet here he was, heading an entire project by himself with some of his closest friends. If Y/N had squinted hard enough at the predicament, this was basically a vacation for a bunch of fish nerds.

She sat on the deck with her legs brought to her chest, chewing on the soggy piece of bread and watching as Jake finally made his way towards the group of boys with a bowl of scrambled eggs in his hand. Vaguely, she could hear Sunghoon say, “your father must finally be proud of you,” and Jason circling back with a sarcastic comment. It made the group rumble with laughter and Y/N felt herself cracking a smile too.

It was probably around three months ago when Jason and Henry broke the news to her. She was coming back from having a measly lunch at a convenience store nearby and had entered Henry’s office to collect a few files. When she opened the door, Jason and Henry had been waiting for her with a cake in their hands and beaming smiles on their faces. “If you’d walked in any later, I would have started eating this thing without you,” Jason chuckled at her, pulling out a plastic knife from his pocket.

Y/N looked at the pair with confusion, eyes darting between the greeting brows of Henry and the grinning mouth of Jason. Then, her eyes fell towards the chocolate cheesecake they were holding, the word “Congratulations!” pipped on with melted chocolate. She recognised this cake. It was the same one they’d buy for every one of her birthdays she spent with them over the past five years. However, the absence of “Happy Birthday!” threw her off- also, the fact that it wasn’t her birthday.

“What is this for?” She asked, feeling as though this was almost a mistake. This cake was expensive and she almost felt guilty. “Guys, nothing’s happened,” she widened her eyes, shook her head and waved her hands in front of her to demonstrate no.

“What do you mean, Kkomaya?” Henry chuckled. “You’re gonna be part of a research team. That’s a huge thing to celebrate.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

Jason handed her a piece of folded paper that was tucked away in his blazer. It read the details of a whale research expedition that would take place during the summer and span into autumn season. Y/N could barely skim through the details when her eyes landed on the plethora of signatures that filled the end of the paper. She recognised Henry, Jake and Jason’s signatures and some of a few government officials that signed off on the research expedition and agreed to fund for it. Right beside Jake’s signature was an empty dotted line, waiting for Y/N’s signature.

“You’re joking,” she gasped.

“Sign it so we can cut this cake and celebrate, Y/N. My hand’s getting sore,” Jason chuckled again.

“Oh, right. Sorry!”

What followed next was a string of excited screams, giggles and jumping around until Y/N finally signed the paper and threw herself into Henry and Jason to hug. Then, they cut the cake and each enjoyed a piece, the rest to be distributed amongst the employees of the aquarium in light of good news. A few moments later, Jake entered the room, coyly making his way towards Y/N to give her a handshake. Since the night of Mr. Bahng’s restaurant opening, the pair had developed a healthy rapport. He would visit the aquarium sometimes, bumping into Y/N in the process and making polite conversation. He made efforts to be a little more respectful towards her, packing away his cocky personality only in front of her. She once asked him why he was spending so much time in Korea, leaving his job in Australia and he responded aloofly. She got her answer now.

Now, it was the end of May and Y/N was on a research vessel with an unfamiliar group. Though she spent a week getting to know them before leaving for the expedition, seeing them interact on the deck, throwing around jokes like they’d known each other their whole lives… she wasn’t sure how to act that way. She felt like the odd one out, the loose end. Jake and Sunghoon were childhood friends; Jason and Jay were college friends and Heeseung was Mr. Bahng’s oldest son so Jake and Jason had known of him since they were kids. She’s met him a handful of times before, including the night of Mr. Bahng’s restaurant opening. But she didn’t know him like everyone else did.

“Y/N!” Jason waved for her to come over and she did, lifting herself off the lounging chair and walking towards them. It was their third day together on this vessel and she still wasn’t sure how to approach anyone when they were grouped together. She hated saying it, but she relied on Jason to include her when it came to the socialising side of her work. The practicality, however? She was splendid.

“Today’s the day we need to actually start working,” Heeseung said to her as she approached them. Jason made space between himself and Heeseung so she could stand in the circle with them. “It’s mostly Jay and Sunghoon that’s gotta do the work today, figuring out the equipment and all. Jake and I will help. You and Jason stay in stand by, for now. You can go on dives, get your practice on. Just be careful, make sure one of us is scouting…”

And Heeseung rambled on, eventually moving on to telling Jay and Sunghoon what their itinerary consisted of. Y/N’s eyes wandered off to the ocean, water spanning for miles on end, no land near site. They were in the middle of nowhere- well, not literally. They knew their coordinates. But if their equipment were to damage or if one fell overboard, they were as good as dead. It’s moments and opportunities like these marine biologists spend their lives working towards- what Y/N spent her days waiting for.

“So, that’s final?” Sunghoon started. “Jay and I will get the hydrophones, then?”

“Yep,” Heeseung clasped his hands together and everyone started dispersing, mumbling words of encouragement and affirmations, pumping their fists in the air or clapping to get their spirits up.

Before everyone had the chance to disappear and get their gear prepared, Jason stopped everyone and said, “should we make, like, a group chant sort of thing?”

“Yeah, that’s not happening, mate,” Jake pursed his lips and patted his brother on his chest. Y/N chuckled and the rest of them laughed while walking away to continue their work.

It took Jay and Sunghoon a total of four hours to deploy the five units of hydrophones, both floating and anchored. While diving, they would constantly resurface for air and call for Jake, yelling, “What kind of new technology is this, you twat, I prefer the old ones!” Their anger bubbled, frustrated at the fact that a two hour process was taking them double the time only because of the unfamiliarity. After their fourth complaint, Jake ended up diving with them to help.

Heeseung stayed with Jason and Y/N to help test and calibrate the hydrophones. While they sent test signals, Y/N cursed under her breath, too, telling Jason, “we could have just used the old equipment. This new shit Jake brought us is not user friendly.”

“People thought that about the iPhone but they love it now, don’t they?” Jason offered, hoping to reduce Y/N’s distaste. She could only respond by rolling her eyes.

By the time they were done, the sun had started setting and the divers barely ate food. The trio that stayed on the vessel cooked a heavy dinner with whatever ingredients they had, feeding the divers the second they freshened up. The group assembled on the deck, the same place they were huddling in the morning, with blankets wrapped around their shoulders to shield from the chilly breeze.

“Where’s Jason?” Jake looked around.

“He’s finishing with the final sample recordings. He’ll be up in a bit,” Y/N assured.

Jason came back with six chairs, one for everyone to sit on as they debriefed for the night. Warm water was passed around as conversation fluidly changed from work to personal history. The stars were shining unfamiliarly, a sight Y/N couldn’t get in the city anymore. She was reminded of her father who used to point to the constellations and tell her their names. As a kid, she knew most of them by heart. Now, she was unable to recognise most of the constellations, only being able to pick out a few.

“Add in a bonfire and the night would be perfect,” Jay sighed, shivering as he hugged his blanket tighter.

“Oh, we used to go camping a lot in college,” Jason mused. “Those were the times, man. Young and alive.”

“I’d say you’re living it up right now as well, bro,” Heeseung laughed, referring to their boat that was in the middle of the ocean, whale watching and diving as a part of their job description and getting paid above average.

“True,” Jason scratched the nape of his neck in embarrassment. Jake further made fun of Jason and Sunghoon joined in, throwing pieces of crumpled paper from their notebooks at him.

“Look at the stars, guys,” Heeseung directed everyone’s gaze towards the sky. “You don't have nights like these in the city anymore.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Y/N nodded. “Gotta take it all in before we leave.”

“We’ve got three months for that, don’t worry,” Sunghoon assured.

“Hey, Y/N, wasn’t your dad an astronomer?” Jason clocked his head. “He used to teach you when you were a kid, where each constellation was?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“You told me, like, a really long time ago.”

“Your dad did physics in college? That’s so cool,” Jake pipped, sitting at the edge of his chair and directing his excited smile at her. He’s always had a habit of becoming excited at the mention of physics and math- the entire reason he went into engineering.

“Do you still remember some of the constellations?” When Heeseung asked, Y/N nodded. “Do tell us,” he encouraged.

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, she looked up and squinted her eyes to see if anything looked familiar. “Do you guys see the diamond shape?” She heard everyone confirm with a hum. “That’s The Corvus or The Crow. Dad used to say that the crow was a messenger from the sea.”

”Wah,” she heard Jason and Jay exclaiming as she continued searching.

“Do you see a teapot, perchance? Right there,” Y/N attempted to show them its correct location by pointing and once again, she was met with a group of hums. “That’s The Sagittarius. It contains the center of the Milky Way.”

”Wait, I’ve heard about this,” Jake snapped his fingers, trying to jog his memory. “Didn’t sailors use it to locate the galactic core or something?”

”You’re right, I’m surprised you knew that,” Y/N smirked and tried finding another constellation.

In the background, Sunghoon pondered aloud on what it would be like if he could name a constellation after himself and it brought the group into a laughing fit. Jake, though he laughed with them, kept his gaze on Y/N, admiring the way her nose tilted upwards and gaze reflected the starry sky. Jake, who once picked up a book on astronomy out of sheer curiosity and gave up on reading it due to its lack of logic and mechanics, found himself leering as she explained the stars to everyone.

“Do you guys see the red star? That’s Antares, the heart of The Scorpion,” she explained.

”Wow,” Sunghoon started and snapped towards Jake as though he had a revelation. “Wait, isn’t that your constellation? You’re a Scorpio, right?”

”Yeah, how’d you know?”

”I’ve known you your whole life, asshole. Don’t tell me you don’t know my zodiac.”

”I do, I do!”

”What is it?”

”Sagittarius! I thought about it when Y/N pointed it out, I swear!”

Then started the narration of Jake and Sunghoon becoming friends. Jake’s mother, Vivian, moved into the street that Sunghoon’s parents, Daniel and Emily Park, lived in. Both couples were newly weds, just getting back from their honeymoon. Vivian had already been pregnant with Jason at the time and because her and Emily grew close, she was there the day Jason was born. When their husbands were off to work, Emily would often spend her time with Vivian, taking care of her and Jason. Around a year later, Vivian fell pregnant again and Emily announced her pregnancy exactly a month later.

The two mothers spent all their time together thereafter, going to the hospital for check ups together and supporting each other through pregnancy yoga exercises. With each other's support, they didn’t worry about their husbands working overtime. They even hired a nanny together, shifting between houses to help with household work and with Jason, who was still too young to understand his surroundings at the time.

Jake and Sunghoon were born a month apart, Jake being the older one. Emily was in the hospital while Vivian gave birth and vice versa. Henry and Daniel were in wonder of their friendship- it was like it was out of the movies, utopian for the society they lived in today. It was a good thing the two families found each other in this dog-eat-dog world.

Jake and Sunghoon went to the same schools, same clubs and festered the same hobbies so they could do everything together. Their mothers used to joke that they’d end up falling for the same girl one day. “And what would you do if that ever happened?” Emily used to ask Sunghoon and he would respond with, “boy code- I’ll stay away from her if he likes her and I know he’d do the same for me.” In fact, he did and when a similar situation arose in middle school, neither of them got the girl because they valued their friendship more.

Around the time Jake and Sunghoon were old enough to perceive and build on their imaginations, they started pulling pranks on Jason. It was the nasty ones- like, putting saran wrap on the toilet seat or sticking gnarly notes on his bag before he left for school. Once, they rolled a skateboard into him while he was walking into his bedroom and he fell face first into the floor, breaking his nose and costing his parents an emergency trip to the hospital. Jason and Jake didn’t speak for a full month after that incident.

When Jake and Sunghoon turned sixteen, the Park family started talking about relocating to China. Daniel had better job prospects and he was convinced that his children, Sunghoon and Yeji who were four years apart, would receive better education. “And international exposure is always good for a child,” he’d tell Emily. Sunghoon would argue that he wouldn’t leave the country until college and Yeji would cry about not wanting to leave her friends.

It was around this time that Henry opened The Marine Foundation of Korea and started earning more. Their family moved to a more expensive neighbourhood but that didn’t stop Jake and Sunghoon from spending most of their time together. In fact, when Henry had gone on his drinking spree due to the lawsuits and backlash, Jake would run off to Sunghoon’s house, leaving his poor mother and brother to deal with his scary father. When it came time to decide upon college and careers, Sunghoon sat through arguments with Henry to allow Jake to pursue his passions in engineering.

When Jake and Sunghoon started senior year in high school, Vivian was diagnosed with uterine cancer- stage four. That year was filled with tragedy and character change from Henry. Though they spent a fortune on hospital bills, Vivian’s health rapidly declined. The two families started accepting the fate that was to come and Vivian came to an honorable death. What made the children’s period of grief insufferable was that the tabloids had picked up the event and started bombarding the Sim family with unrelated questions. It made Jake want to run away.

Around that time, Sunghoon’s family did end up relocating to Taiwan where Sunghoon pursued marine biology (being truly inspired by Henry’s work) and Yeji continued her high school education. Jake flew off to Australia to pursue engineering, despite his father’s wishes, and estranged himself from his family. For over a year, Henry and Jason only got updates about Jake from Sunghoon. Eventually, though, the three made peace.

It had been almost a decade since Vivian passed away and over three years since Jake and Sunghoon completed post graduation from living across the world from each other, yet their friendship still ran strong. They called and texted each other religiously, making sure their friendship lived on through whatever they were doing in life. Being on this research expedition was like a dream for the pair- everything had somehow worked out perfectly.

“Do you miss your mom?” Heeseung found himself asking the Sim brothers.

“Yeah, of course,” Jake shrugged and slumped further into his chair. Sunghoon reached over to comfortingly pat his knee and he cracked him a smile.

“I miss her all the time,” Jason said. “I’d like to think she’s in a better place.”

A long time ago, when Jason first told Y/N about how his mother passed away, she noticed that there was never an air of solemness or pity when he spoke about her. It was tragic and unfortunate, but Jason never let that reflect in himself. He always spoke about his mother with confidence or a smile on his face, celebrating her existence as a smart woman and amazing mother. He never let anyone show him pity about the fact that he lost his mother too young. He simply chose to idolise her, keep her alive through his happiness and through his achievements. She realised, after narrating basically his whole childhood, that Jake was the same. When he spoke about his mother, he didn’t let his voice cloud with pity and he described her with love and adoration.

“Isn’t it lucky that you ended up doing marine engineering?” Sunghoon said to Jake.

“I love engineering but I do love the ocean, too. Shit’s in my blood- dad shat on me for no reason,” Jake rolled his eyes and Jason threw back a piece of crumpled paper at him. Annoyed, Jake bounced his leg up and down. “You know what we forgot to mention?”

“What?” Sunghoon asked.

“Do you remember when Yeji had the biggest crush on Jason?”

With that, Sunghoon let out the biggest groan and threw his head back, hiding his face under his hands. Jason leaped at the memory while Heeseung, Jay and Y/N begged Sunghoon to show them a picture of his sister. Jake started scrolling through his phone to see if he could find any.

“What do you say, Jason?” Jake wiggled his eyebrows at his brother.

“Dude, grow up,” Jason rolled his eyes. “She was a kid.”

“Not anymore! Isn’t she, like, working right now, Sunghoon?” Jake teased.

“I’ll actually kill you,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

“I think they’d make a great couple, though!”

“Dear lord, not this again,” Jason groaned. “The four of us talk all the time, we literally have a group chat. Stop making it weird.”

From what Y/N could gather, this seemed like a conversation the three had frequently. Jake would mention the pairing of Jason and Yeji and Jason and Sunghoon would get riled up and throw a fit. Jake would then continue to list down the reasons as to why should start dating for the millionth time and the other two would turn him down for the millionth time. After seeing a picture of Yeji, she understood why Jake said they would make a great pair.

The first time Y/N saw Jason and Jake side by side, she told them that they looked nothing alike. And they truly didn’t- everyone would always be surprised when they told them they were siblings, only one year apart. Jake had stronger features, a sharper nose, defined jawline, almond eyes, thick lips and curtain-like hair. Jason, however, had lighter features with a button nose, round eyes, fluffy hair and puppy-like lips. They were both handsome, there was nothing to deny, just in polar different ways.

“I think this is a sign for us to sleep guys, It’s gonna be early morning for all of us from here on,” Jason announced and was the first to get up.

Everyone followed him to the sleeping pods, six beds fitted to the walls like bunk beds. If they stared hard enough, the room almost looked like a jail-cell but none of them really took it to heart. They wouldn’t be spending much time there anyway. Y/N slept in the bed above Jason’s and Jake slept opposite to her. That night, she found herself drifting off to sleep while desperately trying to focus on his features, the softness of his expression as he slept.

“This is our first drone test,” Heeseung announced and Sunghoon planted himself beside him with the drone and controller in hand. It had almost been a week since they deployed the hydrophones and it took them a week to perfect how to use them. Improvements were going slower than expected but a majority of the reason for this expedition was to test the new equipment so they learned to not complain as much. Finally, they decided to move on to the next piece of equipment, the drone, that Sunghoon was going to manoeuvre.

“Are we ready?” Sunghoon called. Everyone answered with a hum, dressed in scuba gear in case they needed to dive at the spotting of any whale, they told themselves. In the few days that they were at sea, they found it concerning that they spotted everything but a whale. “Alright, let’s go, then!”

Everyone watched with curiosity, intent and awe as the drone lifted higher into the sky, becoming a speckle of dust to their eyes as Sunghoon controlled it with grace. Jason monitored its camera through his laptop, paying close attention to anything that it could capture. They all stood around watching the screen for around ten minutes, Sunghoon still standing at the edge of the doc as he controlled the drone.

When the fifteenth minute came around, everyone started to lose hope, dispersing to do their respective work with grumbles and sighs. The twentieth minute came around and Jake asked Sunghoon if the new version of the drone was better than the hydrophones. He confirmed with a nod, his lips slightly parted as he concentrated his fingers on the controller and his eyes towards the sky where he could still see the drone. Bored, Jason and Y/N started playing thumb wars and Heeseung and Jay started discussing what the next day’s itinerary would be- Sunghoon let out a gasp.

“Guys, look!”

Everyone ran towards the laptop screen and vaguely, they could see the outline of a large fish, slowly gliding through the ocean currents, around twenty feet away from them. It wasn’t blue- a deep brown and grey, rather. It could have easily been a Bryde’s Whale. At this realisation, everyone elated and Jason ran to check if the hydrophones were picking up any sounds or echoes.

“I’ve got nothing,” Jason shook his head.

”What do you mean? Let me check,” Jay took over and after a few seconds of listening, he too concluded the same thing. “Are you sure the hydrophones aren’t glitching again?” He asked Jake.

“No, I’m sure,” Jake assured.

”Guys, it’s not too far from us. You can go check it out,” Sunghoon hollered to everyone, noticing that the silhouette was moving closer and closer towards the vessel.

Within the next ten minutes, Jay, Jason, Jake and Y/N were diving headfirst into the water. The rush of the ocean engulfed Y/N, the cold making her realise that this was her first time diving in the ocean since her semester on sea during college. The past few years, she’d kept in touch by diving in swimming pools and facilities but this… the real thing was always better.

Bubbles streamed past their bodies as they tried cutting through the water, their goggles making everything hazy as they got used to the pressure. At a distance, they could see the silhouette of what they hoped to be a Bryde’s Whale. Sunghoon and Heeseung kept an eye on them through the video the drone was transmissioning.

For a breathless moment, a moment where they all hoped that it was a whale they were finally seeing, they truly believed that they were in luck. However, as they swam closer to the giant body, theyr recognised its gaping mouth, unhurried movements and pointy fins as something else. For a moment, another breathless moment, they were disappointed, weight filling their chest in a way the ocean’s pressure couldn’t crush them. But seconds later, they decided to enjoy their discovery- Y/N, especially. It was fleeting, barely a few seconds, but it felt like something unspoken passed between them in that shared moment.

“Guys, it’s a Basking Shark,” Y/N said. “Heeseung? Sunghoon? Can you hear me?”

“It’s a Basking Shark, alright,” Jay said, his voice crackling through the earphones before Y/N could receive his words.

“You know the rules, guys. No touching, only looking,” Jason reminded them.

The group of four stopped swimming, floating in the blue abyss and watching the Basking Shark’s movements. It opened its mouth to inhale water- its way of catching food. It stayed open that way, allowing them to get a full view of its insides. White and dark stripes disappearing into its stomach. Slowly, slowly, second by second, the shark swam their direction, as calm as the wind and ocean before a storm. The divers moved to stand out of its way as it swam past them.

“How many feet do you think it is?” Jake asked.

“This is a big one,” Jay said. “I think 30, maybe 33 feet.”

Y/N knew the answer to this question. Normally, she would be the first person leap at answering. But she was too enamoured by the creature as it swam between them, momentarily making her lose sight of Jay and Jason who were on the other side. She could still see the bubbles floating upwards from their breathing. In a moment of poor judgement, she let her fingers raise to inch closer to the fit on the shark, eyes sparkling with eagerness and anticipation. What would it feel like? What would she feel?

As her fingers reached out, inches away from the shark’s rough skin, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist. Startled, she swung her head around to find Jake’s eyes staring daggers at her. Through his mask, she saw him shaking his head. They hovered that way, his hand on her wrist, eyes moving away from each other and towards the shark, watching it drift away from them and the vessel.

The group made their way back to surface, hearts beating with exhilaration. Sunghoon and Heeseung stretched out their arms to help everyone up, fighting the heaviness of the water. “That was amazing,” Jay enthralled as he ripped his mask off.

The other three settled on the deck, backs slumping onto the railings of the vessel as they heaved to catch their breaths. Their masks were thrown beside them and their wetsuits slipped down their torsos. Jake ran his hands through his hair, trying to restyle its shape; Jason forced himself to stand up so he could make his way to the shower; Y/N sat there, unmoving, staring at her bare hands like she’d just woken up from an unbelievable dream. Then, she lifted her head to look at her surroundings, meeting her gaze with Jake as her head turned. He cracked a smile at her and she turned away, embarrassed.

Nine days. It had been nine days since the Basking Shark incident and they were nowhere close to seeing a whale- Blue Whale, Humpback Whale, Sperm Whale… nothing. There was a moment where Jay was convinced he’d picked up the sounds of whales singing but the noise ended up being interference from debris. However, it wasn’t to say that nothing good came out of the past empty days.

The equipment they were testing had come around wonderfully. Everyone, with due time and patience from Jake, started learning how to use the technology and were on their way to perfecting the techniques. One day, a curious Green Sea Turtle surfaced next to the vessel and stared at them for a full minute before diving away. While hauling one of their retrieval baskets, they realised they'd caught an Isopod and it made Heeseung recoil in horror due to its eerie similarity to cockroaches- that day, they found out Heeseung had a huge phobia of insects. Y/N caught a glimpse of a pod of flying fish through her binoculars. Jake caught a glimpse of a Thresher Shark while everyone else was in the lab and he had headed up for some fresh air.

Sunghoon seemed to be some sort of octopus whisperer. A few days ago, he’d spotted a tiny translucent octopus stuck to the side of the vessel and he stretched himself to reach it. It was small enough to fit on his pinky and wrap its tentacles to cover his fingerprint. It was almost transparent, apart from specks of pigment that floated in its body like dust. Its body pulsed softly in his hand, delicate tentacles fanning out onto his palm to test the surface. Then, he slowly lowered it back to the water. On one of their dives, Sunghoon spotted a Blanket Octopus, a rare sighting that would get the media riled up when the footage was released, and he swam after it until he was too far from the vessel.

That morning, Jay woke up to the sight of a pod of dolphins swimming past the vessel, jumping into the air to create dark outlines onto the orange and pink sky. The rhythmic splash of their bodies against the water seemed to stir the rest of the crew from their sluggish morning routines. One by one, they emerged onto the deck—first Jason, then Heeseung and Sunghoon, followed by Y/N and Jake. The usual grumbles of early wake-ups were quickly replaced by soft gasps and murmured excitement as they took in the sight before them.

“That’s what I call a wake-up call,” Y/N gasped.

“Maybe that’s a sign of luck, guys,” Jay offered. “We should do something tonight.”

“Like what?” Sunghoon asks.

Jay perked up. “Like a night dive?”

Sunghoon, who had been taking a sip of water, nearly choked. “Diving?” He coughed. “At night?”

“Why not? We’ve been out here for weeks, and we haven’t done one yet,” Jay reasoned. “The bioluminescence, the different marine life—it’d be an entirely new experience.”

Jason nodded in agreement. “Plus, it’ll be a good change of pace. We’ve been so focused on the whales that we haven’t really taken in everything else around us.”

Heeseung, ever the cautious one, sighed. “You do realize diving at night is way riskier, right? Low visibility, stronger currents—”

“We’ll take precautions,” Jay cut in. “We’ve got the lights, safety lines, and we won’t go too far from the vessel. It’s a controlled dive, not some reckless plunge.”

A moment of silence passed as Heeseung weighed the risks, scanning the eager faces around him. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and shook his head. “Fine. But if anything even remotely goes wrong, we call it and get out. No heroics.”

A round of nods and murmured agreements followed.

“Then it’s settled,” Jay grinned. “Tonight, we dive.”

Excitement buzzed like static as the sun dipped below the horizon. The group prepared for their night dive with thick dive suits and dive computers strapped to their wrists. Jason, ever meticulous, went through each regulator one by one, testing for air flow. "If your regulator sputters, switch to your alternate immediately and signal me," he reminded the group.

Sunghoon handed out waterproof dive torches while Jay and Heeseung secured backup glow sticks to their vests, just in case their primary lights failed. “If it gets too dark, stick close and don’t panic,” Jay advised. “This is a controlled dive, no one goes deeper than 30 meters. Stay within sight of your buddy at all times. If anyone gets separated, stop where you are, shine your light upwards, and wait for us to find you. Do not ascend alone unless it’s an emergency.”

Jay paired with Jason, Sunghoon paired with Heeseung and, like fate had it, Y/N paired with Jake.

Slowly, they approached the edge of the deck, staring down at the ink-black water, the reflection of the stars rippled into infinite nothingness and for a moment, just for a moment, they felt themselves regretting their decision, letting fear conquer their senses. Sunghoon looked at Heeseung, panic and fear glistening against his eyes. Jake, catching his expression from the other end, assured him with a thumb raised in the air and adjusted his mask.

“We got this, guys,” Jake announced, trying to lift everyone’s spirits. “It’s gonna be an experience of a lifetime.”

As the words left his lips, Y/N’s gaze lifted to meet his through the hazy plastic of her mask, her lashes fluttering as hesitation creased her brow. Even through the dim glow of their dive lights, she could see the warmth in his eyes, the way his expression softened—like he was seeing only her in the vastness of the ocean. Then, as if drawn by an unspoken pull, his fingers brushed against her wrist before slipping lower, finding her hand with effortless ease. Slowly, deliberately, he wove his fingers through hers, his grip gentle yet certain. Her breath hitched as she glanced down at their hands—at the way they fit, tethered in the silent depths—before letting her gaze drift back up to him. He wasn’t looking away. He held her there, in the weightless moment suspended between them.

“Just stick with me, yeah?” He whispered to her. “I promise it’ll be the best time of your life.”

“Alright, everyone,” Jay hollered. “Everyone dive in three… two… one.”

What followed were a sequence of splashes and bubbles rising to the surface of the water due to the impact. The first thing they saw was blackness, their eyes still adjusting to the minimal light of their flashlights. As they splashed around, disturbing the calmness of the water, they saw specks of blue- little emeralds glistening at their friction.

“It’s plankton,” Y/N squealed. “It’s bioluminescence!”

“Can’t get better than this, huh?” Jake squeezed her hand, tuning out the excitement everyone else was emulating.

“This is unreal,” Heeseung moved his hand to trigger another spark of bioluminescence, mesmerized by the living light show.

As they descended further, with patience and caution, they saw the silver body of a Barracuda flash by. Startled, Y/N moved closer to Jake, wrapping her wrist around his bicep. Jason, Jay, Heeseung and Sunghoon had moved deeper and the pair followed, eyes spotting clusters of coral reefs with their blooming polyps. From the reef emerged a biofluorescent Hawksbill Sea Turtle, snapping its mouth open and closed in hopes of finding prey. It moved languidly through the water, ignorant of the divers coming closer to it.

“Didn’t think we’d see this today,” Jason said. “Biofluorescence is common in corals and sharks but it’s only been seen in turtles around 2015. Take it in, everyone.”

As everyone tried keeping their eyes on the turtle, already on the verge of leaving their sight, Jay signals everyone to look towards a rocky outcrop. A flash of pale white flickering into deep brown and they hover in place, watching as a cuttlefish pulsated with shifting hues, blending seamlessly into the seafloor before striking at an unsuspecting shrimp. Just a few feet away, a small octopus stretched its arms along the coral, its skin rippling from sand-colored to a deep maroon as it crept toward its prey.

Y/N, captivated, gestured excitedly at the display, her bubbles rising in bursts. Jake caught her expression and grinned behind his mask, watching as she pressed closer to the scene, eyes wide with childlike wonder. Sunghoon, playing the photographer, raised the underwater camera to capture the display of nature’s most skilled shapeshifters. When the creatures finally retreated into the shadows, the group exchanged excited looks before continuing their dive.

As they moved deeper, the ocean’s silence felt heavier, interrupted only by the sound of their own breathing. It felt like they were in a sharksploitation film, the Jaws background music being the only thing missing. As though Y/N’s thoughts were being read, Jason, who had been slightly ahead, froze and pointed his light downward in a startled haze.

Whatever it was that caught Jason’s attention, it was huge and left a trail of bioluminescence in its wake. They could feel it looming just beyond the reach of their lights. A ripple of tension passed between the group as an immense shadow suspended in the water. No one moved- they were sure not one of them was breathing.

Jay’s fingers curled around his dive knife out of instinct, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Heeseung, usually calm, hovered frozen in place, his eyes darting between the dark shape and Sunghoon, who was holding onto his camera for dear life. Jake exhaled slowly, bubbles escaping in a steady stream as he tried to make sense of what they were seeing, Y/N clinging to his arm to comfort herself. Steadily, Jason tightened his grip on his flashlight and angled the beam forward. The light cut through the darkness, catching the edge of something vast and smooth. The shape shifted, its outline rippling like a ghost emerging from the abyss.

It was a Manta Ray.

At the realisation, their muscles loosened and Jay kept his dive knife away. They watched it swarm past them, its wings stretching impossibly wide. Just like a ghost, it glided through the water like it owned the place, its pale underbelly flashing in the light. It moved like a specter, unbothered by their presence, its cephalic fins unfurling like delicate ribbons as it turned. With the added effects of the blue bioluminescence, it felt like they were watching a dream. Y/N say them all the time in the aquarium but to see them alive, gliding in their natural habitat, was a different kind of sight.

“How big do you think that is?” Jay murmured.

“Five meters?” Y/N answered. “Easily six… she’s huge.”

Jake felt Y/N’s grip on his arm loosen and like instinct, he turned towards her in. He was met with the sight of her in awe, watching the Manta Ray disappear into the void. As they hovered in awe, Heeseung was the first to react. He gestured frantically, his flashlight beam cutting through the water and landing on something just below them. His wide eyes and rapid pointing sent a jolt of confusion through the group. Jay followed the direction of Heeseung’s light, angling his own beam downward.

A Vampire Squid.

It wasn’t supposed to be here. These creatures lived far deeper, in oxygen-minimum zones, not a mere 20 meters below the surface. Yet there it was, its deep crimson body illuminated in their lights, its webbed arms curling inward as it drifted.

Jason exhaled a string of bubbles, exchanging a stunned glance with Jay. Y/N's mind raced—was it sick? Disoriented? Had something forced it to the surface?

Before they could react, the squid suddenly pulsed its body, releasing a shimmering cloud of bioluminescent mucus—a defense mechanism against predators. Tiny blue specks scattered around it like an underwater firework before the creature vanished into the blackness.

The team remained frozen, the eerie afterglow of the squid's defense lingering in the water.

“What the hell was that doing up here?” Jason finally asked through their comms. No one had an answer.

“I’m not getting a good feeling from this,” Heeseung announced. “We’ve seen plenty. I think it’s time to go.”

With steady nods and eager movements, they swam back toward the vessel, an unspoken unease settled between them. A buzz of confusion filled their dialogue when they broke the water and fatigue settled into their bodies. Some looked back at the Manta Ray and awed, others still concerned about why they saw a Vampire Squid so far up the surface, questioning if they should be worried. Jason theorised that it was probably nearing its life-cycle; from what he could see in the passing moments, it looked quite old.

In practiced silence, they stripped off their gear. Masks clattered onto the deck. Wetsuits peeled away with sluggish motions. Someone yawned. One by one, they disappeared below deck—some for a quick shower, others just to sit and breathe.

Y/N, clad in her bikini and a flimsy shirt, found herself sitting on the edge of the deck, her bare feet skimming the water. Each ripple sent a flicker of blue light swirling around her toes—the bioluminescence responding to her every movement. She could hear the guys deep in a conversation on the other side of the deck, discussing the next morning’s regime. She didn't listen in. She just watched the reflection of the stars, absentmindedly swirling her foot through the water, watching the glow chase her movements.

Then, footsteps. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. The air around them shifted as Jake settled beside her, resting his forearms on his knees. For a moment, neither of them spoke, just watching the light dance beneath them. She could see him pouting from the corner of her eyes, a habit she noticed in him before they even started the research expedition.

“Dinner?” She asked, not breaking her gaze away from whatever was in front of her.

He turned to look at her, damp hair falling in front of his forehead. “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded.

“Hey, I have a question,” Y/N found herself chuckling before she could ask him. Slowly, she turned to look at her, shifting her position so that she could lean back on the palms of her hands. “Heeseung doesn’t know you hooked up with his little sister, does he?”

At the question, Jake found himself cackling, too. “What?” He laughed. “No way,” he shook his head. “I think he’d murder me.”

“Yeah, he definitely would,” Y/N agreed. Then, she let a moment of silence pass between them, mustering up the courage to ask him her next question. “What is it about hookups with you, anyway? Just… why so many?”

“Is that who you think of me as?” Jake’s chuckle never left, his eyes widening as he continued. “We just came back from that… interesting dive and you wanna talk about this?”

“It was a bit scary,” she admitted. “I loved it, but I don’t wanna think about it until tomorrow.”

“Fair, fair. Alright, I’ll indulge you,” Jake bit his lip- another one of his many habits- and allowed his gaze to meet hers.

In that moment, in a fleeting split second, the wall that Jake built to keep caution around her had crumbled. All these months, Jake spent trying to be respectful around her, walking on eggshells to try and gain her respect. And somewhere along the way, she started looking at him like he was his own person- not the annoying little brother Jason complained about and not the disappointing son Henry seethed about. She could see the effort he put in, not only for his work or his family, but also for her. She wasn’t sure why. She almost missed his cocky demeanour.

“I don’t know why you’re so against it-”

“I’m not against it,” Y/N defended. “I’m just not that kind of person.”

“Right,” he breathed. “But I guess… well, I suppose I should begin from where it all started,” at that, Y/N chuckled and nodded to coax him to continue. “So, it was the second semester at college and as usual, I was at some house party. By this time, I’d lost my virginity in high school and everything, right? But I hadn’t really slept with anyone in college. So that night, I met this girl- really pretty, really flirty-”

“And you slept together.”

“And we slept together,” he said. “And me, being the fool I was,” Y/N continued laughing, finding his narrative style quite comical. “Thought that maybe she wanted me to call her the next morning. But apparently she didn’t want that. And nineteen year old Jake was heart broken-”

“And he started going to the gym, came out a cocky ass and started sleeping with everyone because some random girl broke his heart-”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t make fun of me,” Jake nudged her side, leading her to continue laughing. Her eyes struggled to stay open and her smile refused to die. Jake bathed in her joy. “And to be fair, I started going to the gym in high school,” he pointed a finger at her.

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” she grinned and rolled her eyes.

“But, yeah, anyways,” he continued. “I was hurt by it, obviously. And then I told my friends about it and they were all assholes, by the way. Not the kind you want to have long term relationships with. But, yeah, I told them and they kinda brainwashed me into thinking that I got lucky that this was a no strings attached thing. And to be honest, a few days later, I kinda liked the whole idea, too, I guess? And the party I went to after that- hooked up with another girl. And I guess, the cycle just continued.”

Y/N blinked at him for a second, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth. “No one gets hurt?”

“No one gets hurt,” he assured with a shake of his head.

“How would you know, though?” She asked. “The girl in the context- what if-”

“You just kind of know,” he breathed. “You always kinda know. It’s like a sixth sense… only hook up with people you’re sure who want the same things as you. But don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t ever want to settle down. I mean- I’m pushing thirty. It’s just that… I don’t think I’ve found anyone yet.”

Y/N hummed. “The sex is that good?”

Jake’s grin returned, this time a little mischievous, dangerous. His eyes had a sparkle in them, his pointy teeth peeking behind his smile. “Y/N, the sex…” he rumbled, voice low and breath fanning against her ear. He leaned closer to her. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

Y/N gulped.

Assuming his previous position, his grin still plastered on him, he looked her up and down, taking in the tips of her toes that were still touching the water and running his gaze back to her eyes. Perhaps he was being delusional, clouded by the conversation they were having, but he was sure he saw the spark in her- the spark that manifested through her hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. He could see her squeeze her legs together, nails digging into her palms as she chewed her bottom lip. Her gaze stayed on his hands- his hands that were pulsating with his veins, fingers long enough to wrap her around him.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never-”

“No, I have- Jake, I’m pushing thirty, too,” she rolled her eyes, shaking herself out of her daze. A cool wind breezed past them and she could feel her nippled perking through her shirt- she was sure Jake had noticed. “Dated this guy a couple years ago. I met him as a customer in the aquarium, actually. We dated for, like, a year. The sex was good. Jason hated him, though. Said he acted like a frat boy and looking back, I guess he kinda did.”

Watching her shrug and look away, he licked his lips. His breath was near her neck now, his presence ghosting against hers. “Y/N, you deserve better than good sex- whatever that was.”

“And you’re some expert on sex?” She teased.

They didn’t know when the air between them had changed.

Maybe it had started in that moment- when the world was nothing but rolling waves and flickering bioluminescence. Maybe it had started long before that, slipping in between stolen glances across the vessel, lingering eye contact that lasted just a second too long, and quiet moments between chaos that neither of them dared to name.

They’d be lying if they said there was absolutely no tension building between them over the past few weeks. It had been there, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting.

It was in the way he always seemed to be nearby—not in an obvious way, but in a way that made it impossible for Y/N to ignore. If she was adjusting equipment, Jake was there, his arm brushing against hers as he reached for something. If she was rinsing off after a dive, he’d pass by, running a towel through his hair, his skin damp and glistening with seawater. It was the way she felt his presence before she even saw him.

It was the way their bodies gravitated toward each other—shoulders bumping when they worked side by side, fingers grazing when they passed tools back and forth. The way she’d instinctively reached for him during dives, her hand wrapping around his forearm in the darkness, trusting his steadiness as they maneuvered through the water. It was the way he never pulled away.

Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered on her lips when she spoke, or the way she caught herself staring at his hands—the way they moved, the way they curled into fists when he was frustrated, the way they rested so naturally on his neck when he was deep in thought.

It was everything.

Slowly, silently, inevitably, it had been building up to this moment.

Jake found himself hoisting himself back on his feet, rubbing his hands against his thighs to brush off any dust. “I’m gonna try sleeping,” he said, ignoring the laughter that the rest of the boys started filling in the air. Yet, he didn’t move, eyes fixated on her and the way she seemed to curl further into herself. He waited for her to say something- anything that gave him a hint on what was to come next.

“Okay,” she said, finding herself getting back on her feet as well. “I’m gonna sleep, too.”

“Okay.”

The pair stared at each other for a brief second, his eyes darting between her features and hers fixated on his eyes. The air between them was charged with something neither of them dared to put into words. It was a quiet understanding, an unspoken decision made in the space of a breath. Then, with a nod, Jake led her back to the sleeping pods. They moved quickly, their strides quick and deliberate, as if slowing down would give them time to second-guess. Jake barely spared a glance at the others—Heeseung and Sunghoon talking near the railings, Jason and Jay checking something on the equipment—he breezed past them like they didn’t exist.

By the time they reached the sleeping pods, her heart was hammering against her ribs. She watched as Jake stripped off his shirt, catching her widened eyes of shock and explaining to her that he always slept this way. And she watched as he climbed onto his bed, running his hands through his hair and clenching his jaw from what she assumed was frustration. Then finally, finally, after pretending like they weren’t there for a purpose, he looked at her. He looked at her with conviction, slender eyes coaxing her and lips begging for her.

“Y/N…” his exhale spelt out her name.

His rand reached out for her to hold and she looked at his palm- his empty hand that was waiting to be filled with hers, his empty fingers waiting to wrap around her. So, she complied and took his hand, climbing into his bed and adjusting her straddle on his lap. There was silence, mostly just their heavy breaths filling the air, wondering if this was the moment they’d been waiting for- if this is what Jake was hoping for.

She felt his hands creep up her thighs, slowly and surely attaching themselves to her hips, dipping under her shirt to find her waist. His fingers danced on her skin, almost like he was playing a piano, waiting for her to do something other than to hold onto the hem of her shirt.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

He could feel her pulsating through her bikini and his dick twitched in his shorts. He gulped as he watched her hands move towards his chest, the cold of her fingertips sending a jolt down his spine. He let her stay that way, her hands exploring the crevices of his chest. Lifting his head that was resting on the wall, he found his neck moving towards her, and she did the same. Their heads tilted, lips parted and eyes hooded- they knew what was to come. They couldn’t wait for it to come.

“I promise you won’t get hurt,” he whispered, just as his lips brushed against hers, their noses touching. His hands moved higher up her torso, touching her ribs just as she let out a ragged breath-

And just as fast as their moment came, it left when they jolted away from each other. They heard footsteps and grumbled murmurs of the rest of the group mumbling it was a good day and goodnight to each other. Panicked, they scrambled off of each other and Y/N was rushing out of his pod and back into her own- anything to make the predicament seem normal, unusual. Before Jay had burst the door open and everyone piled in, Y/N’s head was already on her pillow, pretending to be asleep.

She could hear Jake greeting everyone and wishing everyone a goodnight- she paid no mind. That night, she couldn't sleep.

The group of six had spent almost two months out on the ocean, in the middle of nowhere, on a metal vessel that they’d been calling home, and they’d still hadn’t spotted a whale. However, they felt no sense of discouragement, focusing on testing the new equipment and going on more dives and collecting more samples for research. They collected samples of plankton blooms, recorded the eerie songs of distant marine life, and encountered creatures they never expected—an elusive blanket octopus, a deep-sea jelly drifting near the surface, even a rare oarfish shimmering like a silver ribbon in the depths. The once-crisp excitement of the expedition had softened into something quieter—a steady rhythm of work, patience, and anticipation.

That day was like no other. The air felt no different and the ocean, as usual, stretched infinitely around them. The sky was a perfect, cloudless blue. Jason was at the research station, analyzing the latest data from their dives, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scrolled through results. Sunghoon and Heeseung were near the stern, arguing about whether or not a gull that had landed on their railing was the same one they’d seen three days ago. Annie sat cross-legged on the deck, flipping through her notebook, jotting down observations while absentmindedly twirling a loose thread on her sleeve. Jake was beside her, leaning back on his elbows, quietly watching the sun reflect off the water.

The late afternoon had been slow, peaceful, the kind of moment where time stretched lazily—until Jay stiffened, his head snapping toward the hydrophone. His heart kicked against his ribs as the sound hummed through his headphones, low and distant but unmistakable. Impatient, he holler for Jason who came running to him, questioning what was so important.

“Do you hear that?” He sucked in a breath as he handed the headphones to Jason.

Jason, eyes widened with hope and shock, nodded. “No way,” he breathed. “No way!” He yelled which caught the attention of the rest of the group.

“What is it?” Y/N craned her head to examine the ruckus, watching as everyone had gathered around the deck. Jay came over with binoculars, waving it around in the air. Somehow, without needing any explanation, everyone understood what the excitement was about. It was happening. It was finally happening.

Keeping her notebook aside, she made her way towards the rest of the group, leaning against the railing in anticipation.

“I think they’re a few kilometers away, we should be able to see them soon,” Jay concentrated on his sight through the binoculars, face squirming with concentration.

Everyone simply watched the horizon, waiting for a disturbance to break the surface of the ocean. For a few moments, they saw nothing and Y/N went back and forth from listening to the sound on the headphones, a melody so ancient and otherworldly that it sent shivers down her spine, and looking back at the horizon. She was on the brink of losing hope, watching as Jake and Sunghoon broke apart from the group with their heads hung low, looking at everyone like they were fools for thinking they were lucky until-

It finally happened.

Gasps of awe filled the air as the others scrambled to grab their binoculars and cameras. Sunghoon nearly tripped over a crate in his rush, and even Jake—usually calm and composed—had an unrestrained grin on his face as he followed Y/N to the railing.

A towering column of mist rose into the air, catching the evening light like a shimmering ghost. The sound of the exhale followed a second later, a forceful blast from beneath the waves. The water churned violently as the massive shape surged upward. For a split second, the ocean seemed to hold its breath—then, a whale erupted from the surface. A colossal Humpback Whale launched skyward, water cascading off its slick skin in torrents. The sheer size of it was staggering. Its massive pectoral fins spread wide, and for a breathtaking moment, it seemed suspended in midair—a creature far too large to belong anywhere but the sea, defying gravity itself.

Everyone froze. No one breathed.

Then, in a heartbeat, everyone burst into a rumble of excitement as the whale slammed back into the water, sending an explosion of white foam and waves rippling toward the vessel. The force of it sent their stomachs lurching, but no one cared. Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes blown wide.

“Oh, my God,”she said, unable to get her feet to move as Jay had scrambled back to the computer to see what the hydrophones had managed to record. “It’s singing!” Heeseung had screamed repeatedly as Jay fought to not let excitement shake his posture.

Sunghoon bolted for the camera rig, yanking the telephoto lens into place. “Holy shit, that was a full breach! I need a better angle—someone hold this steady!” Heeseung grabbed the tripod as Sunghoon adjusted the settings.

Jason scrambled toward the data log, frantically typing timestamps and environmental conditions into the system. “We need to record the water temp, salinity, GPS coordinates—someone grab the readings!”

As the crew erupted into action around them—rushing for cameras, hydrophones, and data logs—Jake didn’t move. He barely even breathed.

He was watching her.

Y/N stood frozen at the rail, her hands gripping the metal so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Her eyes, wide and shining under the soft glow of the afternoon sun, stayed locked on the spot where the whale had breached. She looked completely lost in the moment—like the world had narrowed to just her and the ocean. The excitement, the rush, the frantic calls of the others—it all faded into white noise for Jake. He saw her throat move as she swallowed hard, lips slightly parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. She didn’t even reach for the binoculars or her notebook. She just stood there and let everything happen.

Jake had seen her fall in love with the ocean over and over again these past few weeks. On the night dive, when she saw bioluminescent creatures flicker to life for the first time. In the quiet hours before dawn, when she let her fingers trail through glowing waters. Each moment had stripped away something guarded in her—had pulled her deeper into the thing she loved most.

And now, as she stood there, wholly consumed by the sight before her, Jake felt something in his chest tighten. She was beautiful like this—untethered, weightless, alive. In a moment of fleeting adoration, Jake wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his chest without hesitation, mouth still agape, eyes still locked on the sea. Jake felt her exhale, felt the way her body melted into his. Slowly, confidently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered, his eyes closing like he wanted to keep this moment exactly as it was. The weight of unacknowledged moments, flickering electricity had shifted into something else over the past few weeks- something, softer, lighter, deeper.

Y/N had stopped second-guessing the way she naturally gravitated toward him, the way her body angled toward him whenever they stood together, the way she reached for him without thinking. And Jake? Jake had stopped holding back.

He still teased her, still challenged her, still made her roll her eyes—but now, his affection was deliberate. When she handed him something, his fingers would brush hers and linger. When she got caught up in her work, he’d bring her water without a word. When she sat alone at night, tracing patterns in the bioluminescence, he’d sit beside her in silence, just to exist in the same space.

Finally, Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her expression open in a way it hadn’t been before. No teasing smirk, no quick remark—just something warmer, something unspoken but completely understood.

Jake’s lips quirked into a quiet smile. “A lot of firsts for you these days.”

Y/N exhaled a small laugh, nodding.

“Think we should get to work now,” he offered and she meekly nodded.

Jake let her go and moved with quick precision, checked the equipment on deck, making sure the hydrophone was secured and that no water had splashed onto their more sensitive instruments. “Sunghoon, tell me you got that on camera,” he muttered.

“Barely!” Sunghoon yelled.

Y/N stayed close to the railings, keeping her eye out on the huge mass of shadow moving past the surface of the waters, just in case a whale surfaced again.

After spending days with whale songs filling the air, making their mornings, Sunghoon sent out his drone again and detected an entangled whale. After debating whether they were allowed to intervene, something about rules and regulations, they agreed to help the creature. Fear that it would die without sooner intervention and the excitement of being inches away from a whale, possibly being able to touch it, the group devised a plan of action.

Heeseung and Sunghoon stayed on the vessel as look-out through binoculars as the rest manoeuvred a small boat towards the hurting whale. It was only a few feet meters away from them but reaching it through the rough waters seemed like a task, all of a sudden. The waters were usually never this rough- first time in all the weeks they’d been on the ocean.

The water was colder than expected as Jake, Jay and Y/N descended, the massive form of the whale looming beneath them. Up close, the entanglement was worse than they’d thought—thick netting dug deep into the whale’s pectoral fin, restricting its movement. Y/N and Jay worked swiftly, slicing through the strands while Jake positioned himself to keep them steady. The whale remained eerily still, its eye just barely visible through the shifting blue.

Then, without warning, it thrashed, perhaps because of the sudden attention it was getting from foreign presence or perhaps from the pain of entanglement. The sudden burst of movement sent a powerful current surging around them. Y/N was thrown backward, Jay barely managing to steady himself. Jake instinctively reached for her, pulling her close before she could drift further. For a tense moment, they remained suspended in the water, waiting to see if the whale would calm. Slowly, its movements settled, and they resumed cutting. One final slice, and the last of the netting unraveled, drifting away into the depths. The whale hovered for a moment before, with a flick of its tail, it surged forward- free at last- and the three watched as it swam away from them.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Y/N said. “I can’t believe I just did that- we just did that.”

Upon arriving back on the vessel, the team moved on autopilot—securing equipment, hauling themselves aboard, and stripping off their dive gear. A string of celebratory huzzas were passed around as Y/N slumped against a chair. The air was thick with exhilaration and exhaustion, breaths still uneven from the dive. Sunghoon handed Y/N a towel as she squeezed the seawater from her hair, her mind still in the depths, replaying the whale’s final surge to freedom.

Jason was already hunched over the laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as he analyzed the recordings. "The change in vocalizations—it's real," he muttered, half to himself, half to Jay, who leaned over his shoulder. Jay's grin was unstoppable. "We’re really hearing this in real-time. That’s insane."

The others busied themselves cleaning up, but the adrenaline was still too fresh to settle. Heeseung cracked open a bottle of water, while Sunghoon replayed drone footage on his tablet, scrutinizing every frame. "We actually did it," he murmured, half in disbelief.

Y/N, however, found herself drifting away from the commotion. She was exhausted and desperately needed rest for her eyes. Her arms went slump and legs felt heavy and when Jake spotted her heaving breath, he made his way towards her, offering himself as a pillow. The pair slumped on each other, Jake running a hand up and down her arm as she drowned out the commotion around her.

“Just a few minutes,” she mumbled and nuzzled deeper into his chest, hugging his torso. Jake chuckled.

Their peace didn’t last long, though. Jake felt it before he saw it, the subtle shift in the air, the way the horizon darkened like spilled ink bleeding into the sky. A low rumble rolled across the sky, so distant at first that no one paid it much mind. But then came the wind—sharp, biting, and sudden. The gentle lull of the ocean turned erratic, the once-glassy surface growing restless beneath them.

A storm was coming. Fast.

“Storm’s rolling in,” Heeseung called from the helm, voice edged with urgency. “We need to secure everything—now.”

Y/N’s eyes shot open as her mind registered what was going on and everyone started moving in sync, doing what their training had taught them to do. Like it came out of nowhere, sheets of rain lashed against the deck, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. The ocean had turned violent, monstrous waves slamming into the vessel with enough force to send them stumbling. Sunghoon and Jay held onto the railings, Jake and Y/N barely finding a way to make it to safety as Heeseung and Jason controlled the steering. They could see them, their faces contorting with strain as they helped each other manoeuvred the wheel.

A rogue wave—towering, relentless—rose like a wall before crashing down onto the deck. The impact sent equipment flying, knocking everyone off balance. A sickening crack sounded through the storm, followed by a sharp, agonized cry.

“Jay!”

As Sunghoon hollered, he ran towards Jay on the unsteady vessel, fully equipped with the knowledge that they could be thrown overboard by the waves and the wind any second. Jay was crumbling against the rain, body twisted in pain as he held onto his forearm. “I think I broke it,” he repeated over and over again as Sunghoon carried him towards Jake and Y/N.

Jake and Sunghoon exchanged a look that Y/N couldn't decipher, a sort of language the two friends had accumulated through their years of friendship. When the vessel rocked again, Sunghoon grabbed Y/N’s arm and tried his best to get them inside- to safety, hopefully. Jake dashed the opposite direction, towards the wheelhouse.

“Where is he going?” Y/N yelled over the winds and the thunder that started to crack, crouching out of instinct though she knew it wouldn’t be much protection. Another wave crashed against the vessel, water flooding the deck. The rain fell harder above them, leaving them no mercy. They were being tossed around like a

“Distress signal,” Sunghoon shouted back, holding Jay in place amongst the imbalance.

The storm swallowed the horizon whole, a monstrous force of wind and water that turned the sky into an endless void of grey. The waves surged like biblical monsters, heaving and crashing against the vessel with relentless fury, each impact rattling through steel and bone alike. The world had shrunk to chaos—water seeping into every crevice, bodies thrown against railings, desperate hands gripping whatever they could to keep from being flung into the abyss.

“Sunghoon, we’re not gonna make it,” Y/N could feel her tears, tears of fear and defeat, mixing with the rain, eyes squinting as she searched for him amongst the fog.

“No, Y/N,” Sunghoon yelled. “We’re gonna make it.”

Somewhere, through the deafening roar of the storm, a voice crackled through the radio—a lifeline lost in static—before the darkness was split apart by a piercing beam of light.

The helicopter had arrived.

The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a stark contrast to the wild, untamed darkness of the storm they had just survived. The six of them sat scattered around the hospital room, their bodies aching, their minds still reeling from the chaos that had led them here. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, but beneath it lingered the salt of the ocean, a reminder that no matter how far they were from that vessel, the sea was still etched into their skin.

Jay sat in the center of it all, his arm immobilized in a sling, bruises painting his skin in deep purples and sickly yellows. He looked exhausted, but there was a ghost of his usual grin on his face as he tried to downplay the pain. “I guess this means I get out of heavy lifting for a while,” he joked, but no one laughed.

Because they all remembered.

They remembered the way the waves had swallowed the vessel, tossing them like rag dolls. The helplessness of gripping onto whatever they could, praying they wouldn’t be swept away. The panic when Jay had been thrown across the deck, a sickening crack cutting through the chaos. The way he had screamed. The frantic, trembling hands trying to keep pressure on his injury, the desperate voices yelling into the radio for help, the sheer terror that, for a moment, they might not all make it out.

Sunghoon sat at the edge of his hospital bed, staring at the floor with his elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked so tightly his knuckles were white. Jason and Heeseung murmured in hushed tones with a doctor at the doorway, nodding stiffly at whatever instructions were being given.

And then there was Y/N.

She sat beside Jake, her head resting against his shoulder, eyes open but unfocused. Her hands were clasped together in her lap, like she was grounding herself, trying to convince herself that they were safe now. That it was over.

Jake hadn’t let go of her since they had been pulled out of the storm. His grip on her hand was firm, like if he let go, she might disappear. The adrenaline had long worn off, leaving behind only exhaustion and the silent, heavy weight of everything they had endured.

For the first time in months, there was no vessel beneath them, no swaying of the ocean, no distant songs of whales humming through the water. Just the quiet hum of the hospital and the echo of a storm that still raged inside them. For the first time, Y/N wondered, had they all gone crazy without knowing it? She’d seen documentaries about this- how people stranded in a single environment could descend into a state of psychosis. Did that happen to them, sickness right under their noses?

When the doctor made her way towards the group, everyone lifted their heads and sat straight, reacting as though a professor had just walked into the classroom. Dr Ryu looked at them sternly, an absence of sympathy and solemness in her demeanour. Perhaps that is exactly what they needed. “You guys got lucky,” she said. “It could have been worse.”

Everyone responded with a sequence of nods, Jay wincing as he moved the wrong muscle. Jason shifted to his side, resting his hand on his back as support and comfort.

“Physically, you all should be fine. A quick recovery- Jay included,” Dr Ryu continued. “However, I highly recommend visiting a therapist. By the looks of it, this wasn’t something easy that you all had to go through and you now show increased vulnerability to PTSD or any related disorders. Please do take my advice seriously.”

Again, she was met with a sequence of nods and mumbles, assuring her that they would do their best in taking care of themselves and each other.

“We will keep Jay in for the night for observation,” Dr Ryu said. “Any of you can stay with him. The rest of you- go home. Go home to your families and just be in a more familiar space. Try to sleep- staying awake all night and mulling over it will not help. Your bodies are exhausted. Give it a rest and come back tomorrow.”

As she walked away from the group, a moment of silence fell over them as they went over what the doctor had said. PTSD? Who knew this was the turn their lives would take? To be fair, she only advised a therapist- there was no guarantee for anything at the moment.

“I’ll stay,” Jason said. The decision was made without much debate. Friends since a trip went wrong during university, it made sense that he stayed back. While working on a coastal biodiversity project, their boat engine failed during a data collection run, leaving them stranded at sea for hours. They were rescued by helicopters that day, too and looking back, their situation now looked eerily similar- just without the injury and the trauma.

Jason had already straightened in his seat, his expression leaving no room for argument. Jay rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. “You guys should go get some actual sleep. My apartment’s closer to the hospital anyway- you should spend the night there, give each other company.”

No one had the energy to argue.

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m gonna pass out the second I hit a bed.”

“Same,” Heeseung muttered, already gathering what little belongings they had brought with them.

Y/N glanced at Jake, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. He still hadn’t let go of her hand, his thumb absentmindedly running over her knuckles. His eyes flickered toward Jason, something unreadable crossing his expression.

Jason caught it. “Don’t even think about staying, Jake,” he said, voice softer now but still firm. “You look worse than Jay.”

Jake huffed a quiet laugh, but Y/N felt the tension in his grip. He didn’t want to leave. None of them really did, but Jason was right- they needed rest, and Jay was in good hands.

Y/N squeezed his hand, a silent reassurance, before standing up. “We’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

Jason gave a small nod. “I’ll text you if anything happens.”

With that, they filed out of the room, exhaustion making their movements sluggish. The police drove them to Jason’s apartment and the second they opened the doors, Heeseung and Sunghoon occupied the guest bedroom and Jake dragged himself into Jason’s bedroom. Y/N found herself frozen in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. She felt like a fool for feeling the way she did, for being naive enough to think that she could get past this like it was a bad birthday party.

Upon entering the room Jake was in, she found him sitting cross legged on the bed, back hunched over as he toyed with something on his phone. When he felt her presence, he kept his phone away and shifted his gaze to her. He patted the empty space beside him, coaxing her to sit with him and she did. She let her head hit the pillow and Jake leaned against the headboard, eyes falling on the ceiling. It was weird not catching sight of a night sky filled with stars- almost unfamiliar.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispered, almost as if saying it quieter would make their predicament lighter.

“I know,” she responded. “It doesn’t feel real,” she rested her hand against his shoulder, softly rubbing his back in hopes of comforting him. He leaned his cheek against her hand, raising his own to hold hers and closing his eyes to find solace in the moment.

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” he mumbled.

“Everything is alright,” she tried. “We’re all here, alive and safe. Jay is fine.”

“Jay is fine,” he repeated.

“And we are fine.”

“You almost died.”

Y/N leaned up and rested against the headboard with him, deliberately keeping her face close to his, breaths syncing. Jake’s eyes stayed close, his cheek still on her hand. “But I didn’t,” she said, with conviction.

“You were slipping away.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond. The weight of it sat between them, heavy and unspoken. She knew that feeling. The terror of helplessness. The way it lingered in your bones, no matter how many times you tell yourself you survived.

She shifted, sliding closer, until their knees brushed. “But I’m here,” she murmured.

Jake lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm, and something inside her stirred. “I need to feel it,” he said, almost to himself. “That you’re here. That this is real.”

His hands found her waist, tentative and fragile at first like that night in the sleeping pods, testing the waters, walking on eggshells. When she moved closer to him, finding herself straddling his waist again, Jake found no motive to stop. He leaned upwards to find her lips, mouths colliding without hesitation- there was no adultery, no ploy of teasing or hurting, no uncertainty. They were two people, finding an anchor within each other, desperately holding on.

When he finally kissed her, Y/N wondered why it took so long for them to be in this position in the first place. And he kissed her with caution, slow movements memorising her crevices and making sure she remembered him. As their mouths opened and closed in sync, his hands roamed underneath her shirt, tracing her skin and counting her ribs before lifting her shirt over her head. In that moment, while he held her, she didn’t feel lusted over or sexualised- she felt as though she was being protected, cherished… loved.

“Y/N… I don’t just want you,” he breathed against her, lips moving down her throat and hands roaming her legs. “I need you.”

Slowly, wrapping his arms around her back, he flipped her over so she lay on the bed and he hovered over her. For a brief moment, he stopped to look at her face- her eyes that were filled with curiosity and anticipation, lips parted in waiting for him, hair strewn across the pillow. Then he kissed her again, one hand roaming towards her nippled and the other swiftly unzipping her jeans. In this moment, though he usually wouldn’t prefer to, Jake wasted no time- he didn’t want to tease her or waste his time with foreplay. He just wanted to feel her, know that she was living in his arms, breathing and letting her heart beat against him.

His hand shifted to move her jeans off her legs and Y/N shimmied out of them, chuckling in the process. “This isn’t that attractive,” she murmured.

“Shut up,” he said with a grin and kissed her again.

He let his fingers hook under her underwear and touch her clit. Y/N moaned into his and he moaned back, feeling the wetness of her folds and letting her back arch into him. Her hips grinded against his hand and he complied by exploring her folds, slowly and desperately getting her to whine and moan more under him.

“Heeseung and Sunghoon are sleeping,” Jake mumbled against her skin, lips exploring the nape of her neck and moving to the curve of your breasts. “You’ve gotta try to be quiet, yeah?”

“Okay,” she heaved and Jake could feel her nod, her chin touching his hair.

He slipped a finger into her hole and she squirmed, biting her lip to adjust to the length. Her hands flew towards his hair, tugging and pulling at the silky tufts. He moved his finger in and out, languidly and deliberately, eyeing your reactions and expressions as he did so. His thumb flew to her clip, rubbing steady circles only for more wetness to ooze out of her.

“Higher, Jake,” he heard her moan and he increased his pace. The sound of squelching filled the room, mixed with their moans. He kissed her again, his other hand continuing to toy with her nipples while he fingered her- now, fast and dirty, aiming towards a goal. He could feel her clenching on his fingers, clamping down everytime he pulled out too much, whimpering every time he curled at the right spot.

Jake moved so he could kneel between her legs, his fingers now moving slower as he brought his face closer to her heat. She could feel his breath on her, only making her ache for him more. She whined for him to hurry up and was only shut up when she felt his mouth on her. He sucked on her clit as his finger picked up pacing, adding a second one as her breath got heavier. He could see her chest heaving, her hands flying upwards to grip the headboard.

When her knees started closing instinctively, his shoulders kept them apart, one hand gripping her hip so tight she was sure she’d have bruises the next morning. And he kept going, sucking and flicking at her clit with his tongue, fingers moving in and out of her so fast that she’d forgotten how she ended up here in the first place.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. “So close.”

And just as she felt her high crashing down on her, he’d withdrawn himself completely and she let out a gasp. Her brows furrowed, she tilted her head to find Jake stripping his own clothes and she stared at the way his chest glistened under the moonlight, his dick springing out of his boxers as he moved to hover over her again. His hair fell onto his forehead and her hands moved to tuck it under his ear. She placed an innocent peck on nose, cheeks, forehead and chin before moving to his lips again, waiting for him to do something before getting annoyed at her lack of orgasm.

“Brace yourself, alright?” He whispered into her mouth and she felt his tip aligning to her entrance. He looked at her before going any further, waiting for a confirmation. When she nodded, he pushed himself into her and the pair moaned in unison.

“Is this the great sex you were referring to?”

“You can’t deny it.”

As he thrusted into her, sharp and with purpose, she regretted wanting to tease him or get a laugh out of him. She let out a gasp, followed by an incoherent string of moans as he thrusted in and out of her, his hand caressing the back of her head and her nails scratching his back. She wrapped her legs around his waist, a desperate way to feel him deeper inside her. He buried himself in the nape of her neck, peppering kisses behind her ear while she did the same to his shoulder.

“Faster,” she moaned and he complied, forgetting the slow and romantic pace he wanted to go with and pounding into her faster, harder- anything and everything to get her to cum with him. He let a hand slip in between their bodies, fingers finding her clit and rubbing briskly and whispering sweet lulls into her ears.

“You gotta cum with me, yeah?” He said and she could only nod, throat too preoccupied with the moans she couldn’t hold back.

She felt the knot in her stomach building again, back arching further and pussy clenching harder onto is dick- he could feel it too, that she was close. She threw her head back, waiting for the moment to fall upon her, waiting for him to say something. He only went faster, letting the hinges of the bed creek.

“Y/N?” She responded with a frustrated hum. “Cum with me- cum for me.”

And she did, letting her orgasm spill over her body and she could feel him inside her, filling her up to the brim. Jake moaned, feeling her body shudder at the way he fucked her, her eyes meeting his with desperation and ache.

“Jake…” she whined as he placed her body comfortably on the mattress again, falling on the empty space beside her and wrapping his arms around her torso. “So good,” she breathed, unable to unclutter her thoughts.

“I know that was supposed to be depression sex, but wow,” he said into her neck.

Y/N raised a lazy hand to hit him on the head. “Stop being funny,” she groaned and he laughed.

Jake, Y/N, Jason, Heeseung, Jay and Sunghoon stood in a line in front of Henry Sim. Over the past few weeks, they’d met with him a plethora of times- just to talk, not even about technical things, just talk. It was his way of looking out for them, taking care of them in whatever way he could. He offered to buy them meals, pay their therapy and hospital bills and even offered them a stipend if they needed it- all out of guilt and desperation to help them heal better, not knowing what else to do.

He was never critical, even praising their work to a large extent. And in all honesty, he was proud- it was great work. “This information that you all have gathered is valuable, I hope you know that,” he said to them, holding their report in hand.

“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.

“It still feels unreal. Like we’re supposed to wake up tomorrow and check the equipment again,” Sunghoon said.

Jay chuckled, adjusting the sling on his arm. "Speak for yourself. I’d rather not get thrown around another boat for a while."

Heeseung smirked. "You’re just mad the whale was stronger than you."

Sunghoon, who had been absentmindedly fidgeting with the strap of his camera bag, let out a small laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The energy in the room had shifted, nostalgia seeping in through the cracks.

Henry exhaled through his nose. "The ocean doesn’t let anyone walk away the same. You six will carry this experience with you—whether you realize it now or not."

Jake, who had been quiet until then, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze, and for a moment, the past months condensed into something unspoken but understood. The storm. The breach. The long nights and quiet moments. The feeling of something beginning even as something else ended.

Noticing their interaction, Henry cleared his throat. “The least I was expecting was the pairing of these two,” he pointed between Jake and Y/N. The rest of the group cackled.

“They thought they were being so slick,” Heeseung laughed. “We noticed everything.”

Rolling their eyes, Jake and Y/N continued to grin at everyone's smiling faces. The aquarium lights flickered slightly as a school of fish glided past the large tank beside them. It was a strange, almost poetic parallel—them, sitting still in this room, while life outside moved on without waiting.

Jason grimaced at the idea of his brother and best friend dating. Attempting to change the conversation, he cleared his throat. “So what now?”

The question hung heavy in the air as the group of six looked at each other. They knew what was to come- a set of interviews, press releases of what they experienced and perhaps even a short YouTube documentary. But what was to happen to their lives? What were they to expect?

No one wanted to answer that question. All they knew was that outside, the ocean awaited their return.

[neohazed]

Pussy Power (M)— Patreon Exclusive

pairing. heeseung x female reader x jake

wc. 4.8k

warnings. ABO, supernatural unrealistic smut, profanity, filth, dubcon, m/m/f, magical sex toy, pervert classmates heeseung/jake, heat inducing pill, masturbation, chikan, double penetration(kind of), public sex, unprotected sex, knotting, etc

preview-

“What is it?”

“A pocket pussy, obviously, you idiot.”

“I know that!” Jake grumbles, punching Heeseung’s shoulder. “But why the fuck was it so expensive? $700?! For a fucking fleshlight?? God, paying that is half of the allowance my parents give me for the month.”

Heeseung laughs, waving the sex toy in his face. “Listen, this isn’t your average run-of-the-mill rubber pussy. I got this one from this new occult shop downtown. Really had to haggle to get it down to that price too.”

“Occult? Like fucking demons?”

“No dude, witches and warlocks.” Heeseung informs him, placing the toy back inside of the velvet bag that came with it. “You remember when that girl, Sakura, graduated last year? 

“Wasn’t she on the gymnastics team? What about her.”

“Yeah, her. Well, she’s a witch.”

“Like Harry Potter?”

“Like Hocus Pocus.” Heeseung rolls his eyes, shrugging. “Anyway, that’s not the point. We kept in touch because she really wanted to get knotted and I told her I’d be down. I went out with her last week and you know, we fucked. Then she told me about these magical sex toys she’s been working on..”

Read Only On Patreon—>

[shy9-29]

Waiting For You ✶ [s.jy]

“I loved you in silence, while you kept running back to her.”

SOMAR𝒊O ─── A heartbroken friend silently suffers as the one they love keeps returning to the person who hurts him. 엔하이픈 제이크 𝐱 𝑓. reader ✉️ wc. 3.7k ✶ careful ! skinship, kissing, nicknames, jakes lwk an ass, cheating, heart break, not proof read 🔖 genre. romance, drama, angst, friendship, tragedy, unrequited love, emotional fiction

📕 a/n — omg I’m back after 500 years and yes I’m still writing lost in Seoul and I WILL FINISH IT I PROMISE.

Jake and you had been best friends for seven years, ever since that random high school orientation day where you two bumped into each other, both lost in a crowd of strangers. Since then, you’d seen the best and worst of each other—been there through every heartbreak, every triumph, every awkward phase. You were the kind of friends who knew exactly what the other was thinking, even when no words were spoken. He made you laugh when you wanted to cry, and you were the anchor he could always rely on when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

When Jake started dating Yunjin, you had seen the change in him. He was happier, more radiant. Yunjin seemed to be the perfect fit for him—smart, beautiful, and funny, with a sense of adventure that matched his own. Watching them together, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy—not because you wanted Jake for yourself, but because you could see how much he was in love with her. It made you wonder if you’d ever find that kind of connection.

But now, as you sat in your car on a quiet Wednesday night, your phone buzzing in your hand, you realized that your best friend had just been torn apart.

—

“Hey, you busy?” His voice came through the phone, sounding strained, like he’d been holding something in for a while. “Can you come over? I—I really need to talk.”

You didn’t even hesitate. You knew that tone in his voice. Something was wrong. You threw the car into gear, speeding toward his apartment.

When you arrived, the place was quiet, too quiet. The lights were dimmed, the kind of atmosphere that felt almost too heavy for a normal night. You opened the door slowly and called out for him, your voice echoing against the walls.

“Jake?”

He was sitting on the couch, looking smaller than usual, as if all the energy had been drained from him. His hair was a mess, and his usually sharp eyes were red and hollow, rimmed with exhaustion and something deeper. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Jake, what happened?” you asked, stepping into the room.

He didn’t answer right away, staring at his hands, then glancing up at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time in a while. His expression was empty, a ghost of the confident guy you had known for so long.

“Yunjin… she cheated on me,” he said quietly, his voice breaking on the last word.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, your body freezing. Yunjin, his girlfriend of more than a year? The girl who was always smiling at him, the one who made him so happy? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

“Wait, what? How do you know?” You stumbled over your words, trying to make sense of the situation.

“I—I saw the messages. She was texting some guy, saying things… things that she shouldn’t be saying to anyone but me. I confronted her, and she didn’t even try to deny it. She told me it just happened, like it was no big deal. Like I meant nothing.”

The way he said it broke something inside of you. It wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt him. It was the way she had dismissed everything, made him feel like he wasn’t worth the effort. You wanted to say something—anything—to comfort him, but you couldn’t find the right words. How do you comfort someone who’s been told they’re not enough?

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you whispered, sitting beside him on the couch. “That’s… that’s awful.”

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” he admitted, his voice hollow. “I thought we had something real. I thought she was the one.”

You wanted to say that she wasn’t the one—that someone who would betray him like that didn’t deserve him. But you kept quiet, letting him speak, because deep down, you knew it wouldn’t matter. He had already made up his mind. He was in love with her. No matter how much it hurt, he would never stop caring.

“I just feel… empty,” he said after a long pause. “Like everything I thought was real doesn’t matter anymore.”

You wanted to pull him closer, to take all that pain away, but you knew you couldn’t. You had never seen Jake this broken, and the thought of him like this, unable to fix himself, made your heart ache.

“Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I always will be.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes full of emotion. He didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel something shift in the air between you. It was subtle, like a crack in the foundation of everything you’d known.

—

The days that followed were a blur. Jake spent most of his time holed up in his apartment, brooding and distant. You would text him, check in, but every conversation felt like pulling teeth. He wasn’t the same person anymore. He was angry, hurt, and confused, and he was taking it out on everyone, including you.

But then, after a few days, he started calling more. The first time, you answered quickly, hopeful that maybe he was starting to move forward.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he said, his voice a little steadier than before. “I don’t think I can let her go. I keep thinking that if I give it one more shot, maybe… maybe things will be different.”

Your heart sank, and something inside you recoiled. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him that he was better off without her. That he was worth more than this constant cycle of heartbreak. But you couldn’t. He was your best friend, and you couldn’t stand to see him hurting, even if it meant he had to go back to her.

“You don’t have to do this, Jake,” you said quietly. “You deserve someone who loves you for you. Not someone who treats you like… like this.”

He was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke again, there was a quiet, resigned tone in his voice.

“I know, y/n. I know. But I don’t know how to stop. I can’t just forget her. I don’t think I can move on.”

You didn’t have the strength to argue with him anymore. You could hear the pain in his words, and you knew he wasn’t ready to hear what you had to say. Maybe, deep down, you knew that nothing would stop him from going back to Yunjin. Not yet. Not when his heart was still clinging to the idea of her.

A week later, you received a text from him: I’m going back to her. I need closure. I need to know if this is the end or if I can fix this.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to beg him not to go. But instead, you just typed out a quick response: If that’s what you think you need… I’m here when you’re ready.

And so, he went back to her.

It felt like an eternity before Jake reached out again. You hadn’t heard from him in days, and you were starting to worry. You knew he had tried to mend things with Yunjin, but something inside you kept telling you it was a mistake. That he was only setting himself up for more heartbreak.

Then, one night, you got another message from him.

“She did it again,” the text read. “She cheated on me. She left me for good this time.”

You felt your heart break for him. You wanted to reach out, to pull him into your arms, to tell him that you had been there all along. But instead, you just stared at the screen, tears filling your eyes. He had tried so hard to make it work, but in the end, he was left with nothing but more pain.

When you saw him the next day, he was a shell of the person you once knew. His eyes were empty, his posture slumped. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, like he hadn’t eaten. You wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but the words got stuck in your throat.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you whispered, your voice shaky as you wrapped your arms around him. He didn’t pull away. He just let you hold him, his body stiff and fragile against yours.

“I just… I don’t know what to do anymore,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. “I thought… I thought she was the one. But now, I don’t even know who I am without her.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely. This wasn’t fair. He deserved so much more than this endless cycle of heartbreak.

“You don’t need her, Jake,” you said softly. “You never needed her to be whole. You’re enough on your own.”

But even as the words left your mouth, you knew it wasn’t true. You knew that Jake wasn’t ready to hear that. Not yet. Not when his heart was still so tangled up in Yunjin.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, y/n,” he whispered. “I feel so lost.”

You held him tighter, but a part of you knew that no matter how tight you held on, it wasn’t going to be enough. Jake was always going to be searching for something that wasn’t there. He was always going to be looking for closure, for answers that would never come.

And you? You were always going to be the one standing in the background, waiting for him to see you. Waiting for him to realize that you were there, always there, even when he was too broken to see it.

But for now, all you could do was hold him, knowing that the person he needed most was never going to be the one he chose.

You loved him. But he would never love you the way you needed. And that was the hardest truth of all.

oh wow I never cried that bad while writing something! 200 notes for pt 2 | masterlist

[mssishipi]

can't believe this went 600 plus notes, it was supposed to be just short hard hours lol, thank you!!!

devil in disguise - sjy

anon asked: infidelity with jake would go crazy bro like he’d be saying “you’re so disgusting” and it’s true it disgusts him how his bestfriend’s pussy milks his cock

warning: cheating, jake is an asshole, explicit content (smut): unprotected sex, degradation. MDNI.

It was almost laughable—how you always clung to Jake's side, no matter what he did, no matter how much trouble he got himself into. It was as if loyalty blinded you, shielding you from the truth everyone else could see so clearly.

You were an angel, the one his parents adored, the soft-hearted girl who couldn't even bring herself to harm a fly.

Polite, gentle, the kind of person who would apologize even when someone else stepped on your foot.

It was hilarious how you always had an excuse for him, always a justification on the tip of your tongue every time he do something.

Like that time when he got into a fight because of some fraternity nonsense. His parents had been furious.

And yet, there you were, standing in front of them, your eyes wide, your voice trembling with conviction.

"Jake defended me!"

Except that was a lie.

Jake hadn't been defending you. He don't care. The guy had simply pissed him off. He always did. It had nothing to do with you, but you refused to see that. Maybe it was easier that way—to pretend Jake had some noble reason, that his fists weren't just another weapon he wielded whenever he felt like it.

It was almost amusing—the way you always listened to him, how you followed him around ever since the two of you were kids.

You were the kind of best friend who never strayed too far, always orbiting around him, always there. He wasn't sure if he should find it endearing or just plain irritating. Maybe a bit of both.

He could do the most questionable things, and without fail, you'd always have his back.

"Thank you, Jaeyun-ah! You know I don't like Jungwon—he's always ranked first. He deserves to be caught cheating."

You grinned at him, clutching your notebook to your chest as if he had done you some great favor. But Jake hadn't done it for you. He hadn't even thought of you when he slipped that answer key into Jungwon's bag. He was just bored, looking for something to break the monotony. Watching the teachers drag Jungwon to the disciplinary office had simply been an added bonus.

"It's okay, Jaeyun-ah! What you're feeling is valid. I'm sure Yuta deserved that punch—he's a creep."

You had been so quick to reassure him. But Yuta wasn't a creep. Jake had made that up on a whim, an excuse to put the guy in his place, to see him crumble. Because he was bored.

It was almost amusing—how you, of all people, always knew the difference between right and wrong. You were kind, the type to preach fairness, to stand up for what was just.

And yet, when it came to him, all of that fell apart. You always had an excuse, always a justification ready on your lips, as if his actions existed outside the rules that applied to everyone else.

Sim Jaeyun had you wrapped around his finger so effortlessly, it was pathetic.

And honestly, it was disgusting.

"Jaeyun-ah!" you squealed, your voice breaking into a moan as your fingers dug into his back, clinging to him. Your breath hitching as he hit that spot over and over again.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex. His phone buzzed relentlessly on the bedside table, the screen flashing with his girlfriend's name. Over and over, the call came, the shrill ring cutting through the muffled sound of skin slapping against skin. But neither of you moved. Neither of you cared.

It was disgusting—how easily you spread your legs for him, how willingly you became his escape whenever she couldn't satisfy him. You never hesitated, never even flinched when he came to you, already knowing what he wanted.

He still loved his girlfriend. With everything he had. But she could never give him the kind of mind-numbing, toe-curling release that you did.

"It's in a man's nature, Jaeyun-ah," you had whispered to him once, your fingers lazily tracing patterns over his bare chest, your body still warm from the aftermath of what you had just done. Your voice always had been soft and sweet. "Men have needs. It's only natural to seek satisfaction elsewhere when she can't give you what you want."

Jake remembered those words vividly, the way you had said them with such certainty, as if you truly believed them. As if your presence in his bed, tangled in his sheets, was anything but a betrayal.

"Maybe it's even her fault," you had added, tilting your head to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "She should know better. She should do better. If she really loved you, wouldn't she try harder to make you happy?"

Your justifications were always so effortless, so convincing. You never made him feel guilty, never accused him of being selfish or cruel. Instead, you framed it like you were the only one who truly understood him, the only one who could give him what he needed without judgment.

It was painfully obvious that you were in love with him.

And it disgusted him.

Every longing glance, every adoring smile, every saccharine word that spilled from your lips—it all made his skin crawl.

Yet, despite the repulsion twisting in his gut, he kept coming back. Again and again. Because at the end of the day, you were the only one who truly understood him. The only one who never judged, never asked for more than he was willing to give.

"I said don't give me marks!" Jake growled as he grabbed your wrists, prying your hands off his back where your nails had been sinking into his skin.

Without giving you a chance to react, he shoved you down, caging you beneath him. His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders, trapping your limbs against your sides as his weight pressed into you. His knees planted firmly on either side of your thighs, bracing himself as he drove deeper, making you take every inch of him.

The bed creaked beneath you, the room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, your ragged breaths mixing with his.

And despite the way he loathed the way you looked at him, despite how much your affection disgusted him—he still couldn't stop.

"You love fucking like this?" Jake growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he drove into you with unrelenting force.

"Yes! Fuck, I love your cock inside me, Jaeyun-ah! Fuck me harder!" you sobbed, your voice breaking with each thrust. Your mind was drowning in the pleasure he ruthlessly forced upon you.

Jake exhaled sharply, his breath ragged as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His arms tightened around you, locking you in place beneath him. He didn't give you a second to breathe, because your body was nothing more than a means to chase his own satisfaction.

Jake groaned as he felt you clench around him, your walls tightening, desperately trying to keep him buried deep. The way your body surrendered so easily, so pathetically. It was hilarious, how little self-control you had when it came to him.

"You fucking disgust me," he sneered. His thrusts never slowed as he tilted his head slightly, watching the way your face twisted in pleasure, eyes glazed over, lips parted as broken moans spilled from your throat.

"Getting off on your best friend’s cock? That’s just pathetic."

You shook your head wildly, fingers clawing at his back, legs trembling around his waist. "I don’t care!" you gasped, "just want you, Jaeyun-ah! Just want your cock—please!"

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, "Of course, you don’t," he muttered. His teeth grazed your shoulder before he bit down, hard, marking you. Your body jerked beneath him, a sharp whimper escaping your lips as he tightened his grip on your waist, pressing you impossibly closer, molding you against him like you were made to take him.

Your tongue traced the ridges of his collarbone, wet and hot, leaving a trail of saliva as if you wanted to claim him just as much. Jake hissed, his muscles tensing beneath your touch, his pace turning brutal. His name tore from your lips in screams, your body writhing, thrashing, but his arms locked around you, keeping you exactly where he wanted.

And then, without warning, your orgasm crashed over you—sudden, violent, leaving you gasping, eyes rolling back as your body went rigid beneath him. No slow build-up, no warning. Just raw, overwhelming pleasure that left you completely undone.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed through you, leaving your body trembling beneath him, Jake didn’t slow. If anything, he fucked you through it, dragging out every last bit of your high until you were left whimpering, overstimulated, body twitching against his pace.

"Look at you," he scoffed as he watched your fucked-out expression. "Completely ruined over your best friend’s cock. What would your parents think if they saw you like this?"

Your lips parted, but only breathless moans escaped.

Jake chuckled darkly, his pace faltering just long enough for him to grab your chin, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. "And what about my girlfriend?"  he mused, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. "She has no idea you’re spreading your legs for me every time she turns her back. That you’re nothing but a cheap fuck whenever she can’t satisfy me."

For a split second, he saw that pathetic flicker of sadness in your gaze. But Jake didn’t care.

Because he knew you. Knew the way you worked. No matter how much he degraded you, no matter how cruel his words got, you would always come crawling back. Always.

Because that’s who you were.

Jake pulled out abruptly, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness. His hands were rough, impatient, as he flipped you over, manhandling you into the position he wanted. You barely had a moment to react before he shoved your face down against the mattress, pressing hard against the back of your neck, keeping you in place.

"Stay still," he muttered, his other hand gripping your hip, lifting your ass high in the air.

You barely had time to process the shift before the sharp buzz of his phone filled the room again, the sound coming from the bedside table. His jaw ticked in irritation, but he didn’t reach for it. Instead, he lined himself up with your entrance, cursing under his breath.

Then, without warning, he thrust back inside.

Another scream tore from your lips, your fingers scrambling against the sheets, trying to ground yourself as the force of his movements sent shocks of pleasure and pain coursing through you. Your walls fluttered around him instinctively, struggling to adjust to the new angle, but he didn’t slow down.

"Tighten up," Jake growled. "Feels like I’m just fucking my fist."

You clenched around him immediately, an attempt to please him, but the effort only made your body tremble harder. Your vision blurred as fresh tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks, soaking into the sheets beneath you.

Jake noticed. His fingers tangled into your hair, yanking your head up, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were glassy, lips trembling, breath coming in short, shaky gasps.

"Aww," Jake cooed mockingly, tilting his head as his grip on your hair tightened. His fingers twisted cruelly in the strands, yanking your head back until your neck arched, forcing your tear-streaked face into view. "Is my sweet angel hurt?"

You sniffled, trying to steady your breath, but the way he kept thrusting into you made it impossible to think, let alone speak. Your fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles turning white as your body rocked in time with his brutal pace.

And then you smiled—soft, sweet, broken. The kind of expression you knew would make something dark flicker in his eyes.

"I don't care, Jaeyun-ah," you whispered, your gaze met his, unwavering despite the tears threatening to spill. "That's my purpose, right?"

His reaction was instant. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and without hesitation, he shoved you back down, pressing your face into the mattress. The force knocked the air from your lungs, but you still moaned.

Jake cursed under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening as his thrusts turned erratic. You could feel it—the way his cock twitched inside you, the way his breath grew uneven, muscles tensing. He was close.

"Fuck, I trained my angel so well," he grunted, punctuating his words with a harsh slap to your ass. The impact stung, a sharp burst of pain that made you whimper. His moans were growing louder, more desperate, the telltale signs of his impending climax.

"That's right, Jake!" you cried out, voice breaking. "Make yourself cum in me—your fucking boring girlfriend could never!"

The second those words left your lips, his hand shot forward, slapping over your mouth and muffling your moans.

"Shut the fuck up," Jake growled. His other hand dug into your hip, his grip so tight you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. "You don’t get to talk about her. Don’t fucking ruin my orgasm by running that filthy mouth of yours."

A sharp, burning twist coiled in your chest at his words. But at the same time, the thick drag of his cock against your cervix make your walls clamped down around him, squeezing so tight it forced a strangled moan from his throat.

"Fuck—" Jake groaned, his head falling forward against your back, breath ragged, body tensed as his thrusts turned erratic. His fingers dug into your hips, keeping you locked in place as he chased his release. "I'm gonna cum, angel."

A strangled sound tore from his throat, his grip bruising as he drove himself deep one last time. And then, with a low, guttural moan, he spilled inside you.

The heat of it, the way he pulsed and twitched against your walls, sent you spiraling instantly. Your orgasm hit violent, all-consuming, crashing through you with no mercy. Euphoria flooded every nerve, burning through your veins, leaving you boneless beneath him.

You gasped, lips parted in a silent cry, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure wracked through you. It felt endless, like falling through space with no ground to catch you, no way to stop.

Jake groaned again, feeling the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him, milking every last drop from his spent cock. He twitched, giving a few more lazy thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into you, pushing past the oversensitivity that made your thighs shake and your breath stutter.

Slowly, his pace lost momentum, his thrusts turning shallow, sluggish, until finally, he stilled. His weight pressed against you as he exhaled heavily, letting the last remnants of pleasure fade into exhaustion.

The room was filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the sweat cooling on your flushed skin, the lingering heat of what you’d just done.

And then, as the high began to ebb, as the last shocks of pleasure melted into nothingness, the emptiness settled in.

A hollow ache replaced the euphoria, leaving you nothing more than a trembling, used mess sprawled out beneath him.

Jake let out a slow, heavy breath as he ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, his body still humming with the remnants of release. The warmth of you still clung to his skin, but he didn’t spare you a glance as he pulled out, leaving a mess between your trembling thighs.

Grabbing his phone from your bedside table, he stared at the screen, scrolled through the flood of missed calls and unread messages. The screen illuminated his face, jaw tightening slightly before he sighed, thumbs moving quickly to type a response.

Your gaze followed him, watching as he moved around the room without hesitation. He didn’t look at you—not even once—as he grabbed his discarded clothes from the floor, slipping his jeans back on, adjusting his belt with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

The scent of sex still clung to his skin, and he knew it. Without pause, he reached for the bottle of cologne he always carried, spritzing it over himself, masking the evidence of what had just happened between you.

You were still sprawled out on the bed, your chest pressed against the damp sheets, your body aching, marked, used. 

"I gotta get home before she starts getting suspicious," Jake muttered, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

But before leaving, he paused at the door, casting a dark stare over his shoulder. His expression hardened, his voice colder.

"Shut your mouth. You already know that, don’t you?"

You swallowed thickly, throat tightening as you forced a small, obedient "Yes."

For a moment, there was nothing. Just silence stretching between the two of you, thick and suffocating. Then, as if flipping a switch, Jake’s entire demeanor shifted. A slow, sickeningly sweet smile spread across his lips as he turned back toward you.

Walking over, he crouched slightly to meet your tired gaze, brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. The gesture was soft—mockingly so.

"See you next time, angel. Don’t do something stupid, hmm?" His voice was gentle, almost affectionate, like he actually cared.

And like the fool you were, you smiled at him, nodding eagerly despite the rawness in your throat, despite the soreness in your body.

Jake exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head as he watched you. "My good girl."

Leaning in once more, he pecked your lips, his touch featherlight, almost tender. But beneath it, there was nothing. No warmth, no real emotion. Just obligation.

It was a role he played, a meaningless act that kept you tethered to him. And seeing you smile so sweetly, so utterly oblivious—it made his stomach twist with something akin to revulsion.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Jake let out a slow, irritated breath, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off something unpleasant.

Without sparing a second thought, he pulled out his phone, thumbs scrolling through his girlfriend’s messages.

You had always stood by Sim Jaeyun’s side—through every mistake, every decision, every selfish impulse. You defended him when no one else would, gave him everything without hesitation. It didn’t matter what he did; you always understood, always forgave, always stayed.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging so deep into the fabric they nearly tore through it. Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.

You stared at the door he had just walked out of, the one he never even bothered to look back at.

You let a quiet breathy laugh—before it bubbled up into hysterical and unhinged. Tears streamed freely down your face.

"His angel, my ass."

The words dripped from your tongue. a wicked little smile curling on your lips.

You had always been there for him. Always the loyal one. Always the perfect, obedient little toy he could use and toss aside when it was convenient. You had let him take and take and take.

Your gaze flickered to the ceiling, to the tiny red light blinking faintly in the dark.

You were his angel, after all. His good girl. So predictable, so harmless.

How cute.

You tilted your head as your nails dragged lazily across your own thigh, smearing the mess he left behind.

You almost felt bad for him. 

Because, Sim Jaeyun did not, in fact, train his angel well.

[cherryw0n]

NOCTURNA — enhypen

chase atlantic inspired series

each of the seven parts is based on a chase atlantic song that provides the feeling throughout the whole story, taking you on an emotional journey and showing the real raw side of each character's struggles.

CAREFUL, this series contains some sensitive and serious topics. Read at your own risk!

CONTAINS: profanity, drug abuse, drug addiction, mental health problems, family problems, toxic relationships, organized crime, infidelity, smoking, violence, alcohol consumption, explicit sex description

MDNI!

Lee Heeseung — The Walls

pairing: dabbler!heeseung x addict!reader (afab)

synopsis: the world of intoxication and ecstasy was something you never thought could be so enchanting, so tempting. until you went spiraling into it, unable to suppress the inner cravings and strong thirst for something so forbidden but so euphoric.

"Everybody's leaning on the walls,

I don't think they're ready for the fall

Had a little, now she wanting more

Told her that I gotta make some calls"

read here

Park Jay — Moonlight

pairing: downbad!jay x grumpy!reader (afab)

synopsis: having a pain in the ass at your heels all the time was not on your bucket-list for this semester. but still he was chasing you, not giving up even if you said it to his face, every time.

"Busy on the weekend

Caught up in your own small world

Well, I might wanna see it then

Call it hesitation, girl"

read here

Sim Jake — DEVILISH

pairing: toxic!jake x toxic!reader (afab)

synopsis: the relationships was falling apart, no thing could salvage the damage it faced, not when you keep drifting from him every chance you get and he is always up for the payback.

"Devilish, fucking with my guys, yuh

I make sacrifices you make lies up

Heaven lost an angel when I signed up

I might fuck your friend, I made my mind up"

read here

Park Sunghoon — OHMAMI

pairing: druglordsson!sunghoon x frutera!reader (afab)

synopsis: fast and luxurious lifestyle wasn't anything spectacular to sunghoon, and it can't be when he grew up bathing in it's glory. who knew that just by stopping at the random frutería in puerto vallarta would be the moment he spotted his next target, you.

"Ooh, Mami, I got blue molly

I throw Louis V, Supreme on top of Murakami

Bitch, I'm fuckin' styling, yeah

I might say I love her, but I'm lying, yeah-ah-ah"

read here

Kim Sunoo — Tidal Wave

pairing: boyfriendsfriend!sunoo x friendsgirlfriend!reader (afab)

synopsis: he shouldn't be doing this. you shouldn't be doing this. you both can't be doing this, but the tension and connection was something you didn't feel with anyone before, not even with your own boyfriend — but his friend was there to make up for it.

"Throw another stone at a glass house

He might kick my ass if he finds out

I don't wanna share, it's a damn shame

I'll still play it fair, won't drop no names"

read here

Yang Jungwon — Right Here

pairing: desperate!jungwon x done!reader (afab)

synopsis: you were done. done with this empty game of leading on. he was like that, everyone told you that but you didn't listen, only ended up being hurt and feeling like the only right thing you could do was finally walk away, and you did just that. but he was not done yet.

"It's happening again

Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends,

I'm right here"

read here

Nishimura Riki — Numb To The Feeling

pairing: addict!riki x goodgirl!reader (afab)

synopsis: who knew that the accidental encounter in a campus library would be such a turning point in your life. was is destiny? or something else?

"I need you to show me love

'Cause I'm getting numb to the feeling, yeah

I need you to ride me harder when we fuck

'Cause I'm getting numb to the feeling, whoa"

read here

COMING SOON...

! this is all work of fiction. in no way this is a representation of enhypen members nor do I believe this is how they behave in real life or condone these actions!

©cherryw0n

[enhaflixer]

ENHA HARD HOURS: reaction to you tying them up. bf!enhypen x f!reader cw (18+ MDNI) : bondage, nippleplay, overstim, degradation, facesitting, cockslapping, humiliation, crying big fat tears, swearing so explicit no words for my ovulation demon fic obvs

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

Heeseung thought this would be easy.

When you straddled his hips and secured the restraints around his wrists, he just grinned, stretching his arms like he was comfortable, like this was just a fun little game that he was going to win.

“Damn, baby,” he chuckled, smirking up at you. “You really wanna keep me in place that bad?”

But now?

Now, Heeseung isn’t smirking anymore.

He’s panting, his chest heaving, his wrists straining against the restraints because he desperately, desperately needs to touch you. But he can’t. He’s completely at your mercy, and fuck, it is killing him.

His cock is already so hard it hurts, flushed deep red, thick and leaking, the veins along the shaft standing out with every desperate pulse. It’s long, perfectly curved, the kind of dick that feels dangerous—one that stretches you so deep it makes your legs shake every time.

It’s twitching in anticipation, the swollen tip glistening, because you’re kneeling between his legs, your hands wrapped around the base, and Heeseung is fucking dying.

“F-fuck, baby,” he breathes, his voice wrecked, his head pressing back against the pillows. “Please—”

You hum, tilting your head as you drag your thumb over his slit, spreading the wetness, watching the way his thighs clench in response.

“You’re already shaking,” you murmur, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his tip.

Heeseung lets out a helpless little whimper, his lip trembling, his eyes fluttering closed as he tugs at the restraints again.

“I—fuck, I can’t,” he gasps. “Let me touch you—please, baby, please—”

You just grin, your breath hot against his aching cock, before you finally wrap your lips around him—slow, wet, torturously soft.

He whines.

Like, full-body tremble, desperate, broken fucking whines.

“Ohhh, f-fuck, baby—”* His voice shakes, his head lolling to the side, his mouth falling open, his brows furrowing tight in pleasure.

You take him deeper, your tongue dragging along the underside, your throat tight around him, and Heeseung lets out a wrecked sob, his hips jerking up involuntarily.

“Shit—s-shit, I—” His fingers curl tight in the restraints, his muscles locking up, his face a perfect mix of agony and bliss as he tries so fucking hard not to come already.

His Adam’s apple bobs, his jaw clenching, his eyelashes fluttering as he struggles to keep his eyes on you, watching the way your lips stretch around his cock, the way your tongue flicks so perfectly over his slit.

“Oh my f-fucking god,” he gasps, his whole body jerking, his thighs trembling hard.

You pull off with a slow, wet pop, licking the tip, smirking as his hips twitch beneath you.

“You look so good like this, baby,” you murmur, letting your tongue drag over the thick vein along his shaft, savoring the way his abs clench tight in response.

Heeseung lets out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping at nothing, his head tilting back sharply.

“Y-you’re—”* he chokes out, voice so wrecked it barely sounds like him anymore. “You’re so fucking evil—”

You just laugh softly, before taking him all the way down, your throat swallowing around him, sucking deep and slow.

It fucking breaks him.

“Ohhh—fuck, f-fuck, baby, I—” His voice cracks, his entire body locking up, his muscles going rigid as he yanks at the restraints, so fucking desperate to grab you, to pull your hair, to hold onto something—but he can’t.

All he can do is take it.

“Fucking hell, I—oh my god—” Heeseung’s brows furrow so tight, his jaw slack, his thighs trembling violently as he fights it—as he fights losing himself completely.

But when you swallow around him again, moaning softly, Heeseung lets out a shattered sob, his head thrown back, his throat exposed, his hips jerking helplessly.

“I’m—I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, baby, I—”

You suck him down one more time, hard and deep, and Heeseung breaks completely, his whole body arching off the bed, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as he comes so hard he nearly blacks out.

You swallow everything, sucking gently, working him through it, feeling the way his thighs shake violently, the way his body shudders beneath you, completely fucking wrecked.

When you finally pull back, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his oversensitive tip, Heeseung lets out a weak, breathless laugh, his chest still rising and falling heavily.

You smirk, trailing your fingers up his stomach, watching the way his abs clench in overstimulation.

“Still think this was gonna be easy?” you tease, voice all sweetness and innocence.

Heeseung just lets out a shaky exhale, his arms going completely limp in the restraints, his face still blissed-out and wrecked.

Then, finally, his head lolls to the side, and he lets out a low, exhausted groan.

“Never fucking again,” he mutters, his voice hoarse as hell. “Never—fucking—again—am I letting you tie me up.”

You just grin, untying his wrists, pressing a soft, mocking kiss to his forehead.

“Sure, baby.”

But you both know he’s lying.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

Jay has always been a giver.

It’s just the way he is

Right now, he’s tied up beneath you, completely helpless, his wrists bound tightly to the headboard, his broad chest rising and falling in shaky, uneven breaths, his jaw clenched so fucking tight he looks like he might actually lose his mind.

You’re riding him slow, rolling your hips in deep, dragging circles, feeling every inch of him stretch you perfectly, every little vein and ridge pressing inside you just right—but you never let him have more.

You keep it lazy, keep it slow, torturing him with every single movement.

“You look so fucking good like this, baby,” you murmur, leaning down, letting your lips brush over his ear, your breath hot against his feverish skin.

Jay lets out a wrecked, shuddering exhale, his fingers flexing uselessly against the restraints, his muscles tensing so hard you can feel them rippling beneath you.

“Can’t even touch me,” you continue, mocking, grinding down just a little harder, feeling the way his cock twitches inside you at the words.

His throat bobs, his lips parting, his eyes completely blown out, a desperate, frantic glaze taking over his normally confident expression.

“F-fuck,” he chokes out, his head tilting back, his biceps straining against the silk ties, yanking just enough to test them—but not enough to break free.

Because Jay is too good, too willing to give you whatever you want.

You just want to ruin him.

“You’re always so in control, aren’t you, baby?” you purr, dragging your nails down his chest, watching the way his abs clench and flex under your touch.

“Always making sure I feel good first?” Your nails scratch lightly over his nipples, and his breath stutters, his thighs twitching beneath you.

“Always such a good husband for me.”

Jay lets out a wrecked, filthy groan, his head tilting to the side, his jaw going slack, his lips parting on a helpless, choked-out moan as he bucks up instinctively—but you press your hand against his stomach, forcing him still.

He whimpers.

Actually, fucking whimpers.

Fuck, you love it.

“Look at you, baby,” you whisper, mocking. “All tied up and still trying to take care of me.”

Jay gasps, his body shuddering beneath you, his cock pulsing so hard inside you that you can feel him losing control.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you?” you murmur, letting your tongue flick out against his earlobe, biting down softly, dragging your nails down his arms where he’s straining against the ties.

“Wanna hold my hips, wanna flip me over and fuck me into the mattress, right?”

Jay groans—loud, deep, so wrecked it makes your whole body tighten around him.

“Fuck—fuck, baby, I—” His voice catches, his chest heaving, his hands clenching into fists as he struggles, trembles, tries so hard to hold himself together.

“Can’t, baby—”* he gasps, eyes squeezing shut, his head tilting back sharply. “Can’t—can’t take it—”

You grin, shifting forward, grinding down deeper, your lips brushing over his panting mouth, just barely not kissing him.

“You don’t get to take anything,” you whisper, cruel and sweet all at once, dragging your tongue along the seam of his lips before pulling away.

“You get what I give you.”

Jay sobs..

His whole body tenses violently, his breath coming in sharp, broken gasps, his thighs trembling uncontrollably beneath you.

“Please,” he gasps, his voice wrecked and desperate, his hips jerking up helplessly, his abs clenching. “Please, baby—let me—fuck, I need—please—”

You finally, finally, give him what he wants.

You start bouncing on his cock, fast, relentless, taking him deep and rough, making his headboard slam into the wall, and Jay fucking screams, his voice breaking, his eyes rolling back so hard all you see is white.

“F-fuck—fuck, I—I’m—” His entire body tenses, his muscles locking up, his jaw going slack, his fingers clawing at the restraints as he loses himself completely, coming so hard inside you it makes his thighs shake violently beneath you.

His whole body trembles, his lips parting around silent, choked-out moans, and you ride him through it, slowing down, grinding deep as he whimpers softly, his breath coming in sharp, erratic gasps.

When he finally comes back down, he just lays there, completely limp, his skin flushed deep red, his body still twitching from aftershocks, his head lolling to the side.

You reach up, untying the restraints, letting his arms fall to the bed, completely useless and weak, and he just groans, his lips parted, his entire body wrecked beyond belief.

After a long, breathless pause, he turns his head slightly, staring at you, eyes still glassy and dazed.

Then, finally, he lets out a weak, hoarse laugh, voice so fucked-out and exhausted it’s almost adorable.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his sweaty, overheated chest, tracing a finger down his still-trembling stomach.

“Still think you’re the one who’s always in control, baby?”

Jay just lets out a shaky exhale, tilting his head back against the pillows, a lazy, satisfied smirk forming on his lips.“I think,” he breathes, grinning, “I just fell even more in love with you.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

Jake is so fucking frustrated he’s actually about to start kicking and screaming like a toddler.

He thought this was going to be fun—that you’d tie him up, tease him a little, then let him have you.

Oh, how wrong he was.

He’s tied to the bed, his wrists secured tightly, his body slick with sweat, his abs tensing uncontrollably, and you’re just hovering over him, your wetness dragging against the head of his cock, so fucking close but not giving him anything.

Jake is losing his fucking mind.

“Baby—baby, I swear to fucking God—” His voice is wrecked, raspy, and thick with frustration, his arms pulling against the restraints, his fingers flexing like he’s actually about to rip them apart.

You just smirk, dragging your nails down his trembling stomach, feeling the way his muscles clench violently.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you whisper, tilting your head, mocking him. “You look so… tense.”

Jake lets out a high, desperate groan, his thighs twitching, his cock throbbing angrily, a sharp pulse running through him every time you roll your hips just enough to tease.

“You fucking—”* he gasps, his eyes wild and unfocused, his lips swollen from biting them so hard, his hips jerking up just for you to press him back down.

“I swear to fucking GOD,” he growls, thrashing against the restraints, his head pressing into the pillow, his voice shaking. “If you don’t sit the fuck down on my cock right now—baby, I will scream so fucking loud the neighbors will call the fucking cops—”

Your eyes widen, caught between shock and amusement, and before he can say another word, you slap a hand over his mouth, muffling his wrecked little gasps, and shove two fingers past his lips.

Jake chokes on a whimper, his whole body arching violently, his tongue immediately latching onto your fingers, sucking so hungrily, so filthy, his cheeks hollowing out as he moans around them.

“That’s better,” you murmur, watching the way his eyes flutter, the way his breath stutters, the way his hips keep twitching desperately beneath you, like he physically can’t control himself anymore.

His fingers curl into fists, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven breaths, his thighs trembling uncontrollably as he moans around your fingers, his whole body writhing beneath you.

“Such a fucking brat,” you purr, dragging your free hand down his throat, wrapping your fingers around it just enough to make him shudder.

“Always so fucking mouthy, always acting up—”* you press your fingers down slightly on his tongue, feeling the way it writhes against you, hot and slick, the way his lips tremble around them.

“Now look at you,” you mock, grinding down just a little, just enough to let the head of his cock push inside you, squeezing tight around the tip—but not letting him have more.

Jake screams into your hand, his back arching off the bed, his fingers flexing violently in the restraints, his whole body on the verge of breaking.

“F-fuck—fuck, I—please—”* his voice is a mess, muffled and wrecked, his hips jerking up wildly, but you slap his thigh hard, making him yelp into your palm.

“No, baby,” you breathe, smirking, pressing your wet fingers deeper into his mouth, feeling his tongue swirl desperately around them.

“You don’t get to act like a little fucking menace and still get what you want.”

Jake whines, actually whines, high and desperate, his eyes rolling back slightly, his breath coming in shaky, choked-out sobs.

“Y-you’re—oh, fuck—you’re so fucking mean,” he gasps, his words slurred around your fingers, drool slipping down the corner of his mouth, his whole body trembling like he’s on the verge of breaking completely.

You grin, finally pulling your fingers from his mouth, dragging them down his heaving chest, feeling the way his skin burns beneath your touch.

“Oh, baby,” you whisper, your lips ghosting over his ear, your voice sickly sweet and cruel.

“You haven’t even seen mean yet.”

Then, without warning, you slam yourself down onto him, taking him all the way in one deep, brutal motion.

Jake screams.

Not moans. Not groans.

A full, raw, broken scream, his head snapping back, his eyes rolling back so violently you almost think he passed out, his fingers pulling against the restraints like he’s trying to rip himself free.

“F-fuck—fuck, f-fuck, I—”* his voice cracks, his hips jolting up wildly, his whole body tensing violently beneath you, like he’s teetering on the edge of cumming already.

You don’t let him.

You slow down, grinding instead of bouncing, rolling your hips in deep, torturous circles, feeling the way his cock twitches inside you, the way his thighs jerk helplessly, the way his breath comes out in weak, shaky gasps.

“You feel so fucking good like this, baby,” you whisper, dragging your nails down his chest, watching the way his stomach jumps under your touch, the way his lips tremble helplessly.

“Completely helpless, completely mine.”

Jake sobs, full-body shaking, his wrists pulling so hard at the restraints that the headboard is knocking against the wall, his hips stuttering violently.

“B-baby, please—fuck, I—”* he gasps, choking on his own moans, his voice so hoarse, so destroyed. “I c-can’t—please, please—”

You grin, dragging your tongue up his throat, biting down hard on his racing pulse, making his whole body jolt violently beneath you.

“Aww, baby,” you mock, grinding down even harder, feeling the way he chokes on a wrecked little cry, his whole body convulsing.

“Are you gonna cry for me?”

Jake screams, his thighs clenching beneath you, his cock pulsing so violently inside you that you know he’s seconds from breaking completely.

“I—I’m gonna—f-fuck, fuck, I—baby, baby, please, let me—”

You slam your hips down one last time, and Jake breaks completely, thrashing beneath you, his breath coming in desperate, choked-out sobs, his whole body tensing so hard it shakes the bed.

And when he finally goes limp, completely wrecked, his chest heaving, his throat raw, his body still twitching from the aftershocks, you grin, running a lazy hand over his sweat-slick stomach.

“See, baby?” you hum sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his panting mouth.

“That’s what you get for being a fucking brat.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

Sunghoon didn’t take you seriously at all.

When you told him about your friend tying up her boyfriend and ruining him, he just blinked at you, his expression bored, unimpressed.

“Okay?” he had said, scrolling through his phone.

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s it? No reaction?”

“What do you want me to say?” He finally looked at you, tilting his head lazily. “I mean, it’s not that crazy. You tie the guy up, tease him a little, make him beg, then fuck him. Right?”

You licked your lips, leaning in. “You think you could handle it?”

Sunghoon snorted, smirking as he leaned back against the couch. “Baby, please. I could handle you with my hands tied behind my back.”

Your smile turned dangerous.

“Then let’s find out.”

But in reality, Sunghoon is fucked.

His wrists are tied above his head, stretched tight, his chest slick with sweat, his abs flexing uncontrollably as you ride him with no mercy, bouncing on his cock, taking him deep, rough, and fast.

He literally hasn’t said a word in ten minutes.

At first, he grunted, let out those deep, guttural groans, his thighs tensing, his body shaking beneath you as he tried so hard to hold on.

His jaw is slack, his lips parted, his eyes completely unfocused, so fucking gone that he can barely even breathe properly.

“Too much, baby?” you mock, dragging your nails down his sweaty chest, watching his muscles twitch violentlybeneath your touch.

Sunghoon just nods frantically, his breath catching, his fingers curling uselessly against the restraints as his hips twitch up, completely involuntary, completely desperate.

“But you’re taking it so well,” you purr, grinding down deep, rolling your hips slow and heavy, making him feel every inch of you.

Sunghoon lets out a choked, breathless groan, his thighs trembling violently, his whole body locking up beneath you.

“G-gonna—f-fuck—”* His voice finally breaks, and then—

He comes so fucking hard that his whole body tenses violently, his head snapping back against the pillow, his chest heaving as his cock pulses inside you, filling you so deep you swear you feel it everywhere.

But you don’t stop.

Not even when his thighs twitch, not even when his stomach spasms, not even when his breath stutters violently, too overstimulated, too much, too good.

You just slow down, rolling your hips deep, teasing, milking him through it, your nails dragging over his flushed skin, your lips tracing down his chest—

You pull off him completely.

Sunghoon lets out a sharp, broken breath, his whole body trembling, but before he can even process what’s happening, your hand wraps around his cock, slick and so fucking sensitive, and you start stroking him all over again.

His head snaps up instantly, his eyes wild and unfocused, his lips parting on a silent, breathless moan as his body jolts violently beneath you.

“W-wait—fuck, baby—”* His voice catches, but you ignore him, leaning down, letting your lips brush over his flushed skin, your tongue flicking over his already-sensitive nipple.

You bite down.

Hard.

Sunghoon shouts—the first full sentence he’s spoken all night—

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!—”*

You just grin, suck harder, dragging your nails down his quivering stomach, feeling the way his cock twitches uncontrollably in your grip, his whole body rocking with overstimulation.

“Oh, baby,” you mock, licking the bruise forming on his swollen, overstimulated nipple, squeezing his cock just right, watching his abs flex violently.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

Sunghoon lets out a wrecked, helpless moan, his breath coming in frantic gasps, his head thrashing to the side, but you just lick a slow, teasing stripe up his throat, biting another dark hickey into the soft skin just below his jaw.

“Everyone’s gonna see that one, baby,” you whisper, grinning against his feverish skin.

Sunghoon just shudders violently, his eyes fluttering shut, his jaw going slack as his cock pulses in your grip, his breath coming out in sharp, erratic gasps.

“Ohhh, f-fuck—fuck, I—”* His whole body locks up, his fingers weakly twitching, his thighs spasming— he comes again, his hips jerking helplessly, his chest rising sharply, his lips trembling from how hard he’s shaking beneath you.

But you don’t stop.

Not until he’s come four whole times, his breath ragged and uneven, his body twitching violently, his lips parted in silent, choked-out sobs, his wrists weakly flexing against the restraints.

When you finally, finally untie him, letting his arms drop, he just lays there, completely limp, his chest heaving, his eyes unfocused.

After a long, shaky exhale, he blinks up at you, his face completely wrecked.

Then, finally, he lets out a hoarse, breathless laugh, his voice weak and ruined.

“You milked me dry like a fucking cow.”*

You just grin, pressing a soft, tender kiss to his damp forehead, brushing his hair out of his face.

“You were perfect, baby,” you whisper sweetly, kissing him like he’s the most magnificent, precious thing in the world.

Sunghoon lets out a tired, shaky exhale, his body still trembling beneath you, his eyes fluttering shut.

“There’s something fucking wrong with you,” he mutters.

You just laugh, kissing his jawline, his nose, his flushed cheeks.

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

Sunoo was always dramatic, but this?

This was a new level.

“You want to tie me up?” He gasped, clutching his chest, staring at you like you’d just suggested burning his wardrobe. “Baby, are you planning on murdering me?”

You rolled your eyes, straddling his lap and pinching his cheek, making him pout even harder.

“No, baby,” you murmured, running your fingers down his jaw, tilting his chin up. “I just wanna see you squirm.”

Sunoo huffed, looking anywhere but at you, but you caught the way his throat bobbed, the way his fingers twitched slightly against your thighs.

“I don’t squirm,” he said stubbornly.

You smirked, leaning in, whispering against his lips—

“We’ll see about that.”

An hour later, Sunoo is tied up and completely fucked out, his wrists bound tightly to the headboard, his chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow breaths, his pretty lips swollen from all the pouting and whining he’s been doing.

But the best part?

He still hasn’t cum.

You’ve been playing with him for what feels like forever, keeping him on edge, bringing him right to the brink of release, then pulling away at the last second—again and again and again..

His cheeks are flushed deep pink, his eyelashes damp with unshed tears, his thighs trembling as he tugs uselessly at the restraints.

“B-baby, please—” His voice is soft, desperate, breathless, his lips trembling as he squirms beneath you.

You grin, dragging your nails down his stomach, watching the way his body jolts violently at the sensation.

“Please what?” you murmur, your fingers hovering over his leaking cock, but not touching him at all.

Sunoo whimpers, his hips twitching helplessly, his fingers clenching into fists.

“I—”* he gasps, his head tilting back, his pretty throat exposed and begging for attention, his chest rising sharply.

You take advantage of it, leaning down, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the delicate skin just below his collarboe, sucking until you know it’ll leave a mark.

Sunoo gasps sharply, his whole body tensing beneath you, his breath stuttering as a wrecked little whimper slips past his lips.

“You’re so mean,” he pouts, his voice cracking on the last word, his wrists twisting against the ties like he wants to throw a tantrum.

You just smile, letting your lips trail down his collarbone, over his flushed chest, lower and lower.

“Oh—fuck—” His voice breaks completely, his eyes squeezing shut, his thighs snapping together in frustration.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur, kissing your way down his chest, your hand finally, finally wrapping around his aching cock. “You’re shaking.”

Sunoo lets out the most desperate little noise, his breath catching, his whole body going taut beneath you.

“B-baby—”* he gasps, his voice so high and sweet and helpless it makes you clench around nothing.

“Shhh,” you coo, stroking him slow, torturous, teasing, feeling the way his cock twitches uncontrollably in your grip. “Be my good boy and take it.”

Sunoo whimpers, his fingers flexing uselessly, his breath coming in short, frantic little gasps.

“I—I c-can’t—”

“Yes, you can, baby,” you whisper, dragging your thumb over the swollen, sensitive tip, watching as his stomach tenses sharply, his breath stuttering in his throat.

Sunoo shakes his head frantically, his lips trembling, his eyes squeezed shut so tight that tears slip down his cheeks.

“B-baby, please—p-please, I—I need to—”

You lean in, lips brushing against his ear, your voice soft, teasing, dripping in affection—

“Then cum for me, baby.”

Sunoo lets out a sharp, shattered little cry, his entire body seizing up, his thighs clenching, his fingers curling into fists, his mouth falling open in a breathless, high-pitched moan as he finally, finally spills over your hand.

His chest heaves, his wrists straining weakly against the restraints, his whole body convulsing violently as he rides it out, his breath coming in ragged, uneven sobs.

When it’s over, when he finally collapses against the sheets, completely limp and wrecked, you untie his wrists, massaging the delicate skin where the fabric had been.

Sunoo’s eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy, his lips still parted, his breath still unsteady.

“You,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, “are actually evil.”

You just laugh softly, pressing kisses to his damp forehead, his flushed cheeks, his trembling lips.

“But you were so good for me, baby,” you murmur, cupping his face, kissing him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

Sunoo huffs, rolling his eyes dramatically, but his arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his voice weak and breathless. “Now shut up and hold me.”

You just smile, curling up against him, feeling his breath slow, his body relax beneath you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

Jungwon was always so composed.

Always the one in charge, always the one controlling the pace, making you beg, making you squirm, dragging things out just to hear you cry for him.

“You get so cute when you’re desperate,” he had said once, watching you fall apart, mocking you while he kept you on edge for what felt like hours.

“I wonder how long I can make you last before you break.”

That night, you had cried for him.

Tonight, he’s going to cry for you.

You’re going to tear him apart, ruin him so completely that he’ll never, ever try to put you through that again.

By the time you’re finished with him, he won’t just be begging for release—he’ll be begging for mercy.

Looking back it almost makes you laugh because Jungwon is so far gone that it’s almost pathetic.

His wrists are bound tight to the headboard, his fingers curling helplessly, his thighs trembling violently, his cock twitching, untouched, leaking all over himself.

The worst of all?

He hasn’t cum once.

You’ve edged him so many times that his body doesn’t even know how to handle it anymore, his breath coming in frantic, choked-off sobs, his cheeks slick with real, wet, desperate tears.

“P-please—please, f-fuck, I can’t—” His voice is so hoarse, so completely broken, his breath ragged and uneven, his body twitching, shaking, begging for anything.

You just smirk.

“Aww, poor baby,” you mock, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at you, watching the way his lips tremble.

“You always act so tough.”

You drag your nails down his chest, watching the way his muscles tense, his abs flexing, his stomach spasming involuntarily.

“And now look at you.”

You slap his cock lightly, watching as his hips jolt up violently, his breath catching in a sharp, helpless moan.

“F-fuck—ohh, f-fuck, please, please, baby, I—I n-need—”

You slap him again.

Right on his leaking, swollen tip, precum splattering onto his stomach, his whole body jolting from the impact.

Jungwon screams, his thighs shaking uncontrollably, his wrists yanking at the restraints, but you just laugh softly.

“Oh, you need something?” you taunt, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at you, watching the way his swollen lips quiver.

“What do you need, slut?”

Jungwon sobs again, completely humiliated, his body betraying him.

“P-please—please, let me cum—please, I c-can’t, I c-can’t—”

You tilt your head, fake pouting.

“Oh, baby,” you whisper, voice sickly sweet, cruel, condescending. “You can’t?”

Then, you grab a fistful of his damp hair, yanking his head back, making his throat expose itself to you, his breath stuttering, a choked-off moan spilling past his lips.

“That’s funny, baby,” you whisper, dragging your tongue up his throat, feeling his pulse hammer violently against your lips.

“Because I remember you making me fucking beg. I remember you edging me until I was crying, just like this.”

Jungwon lets out a sharp, desperate sob, his thighs clenching, his hips twitching, completely lost in it.

“I—I’m s-sorry—please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be so f-fucking good, I s-swear—”

You grin, gripping his chin harder, tilting his head up, forcing him to stare at you.

“You’re already my good little fucktoy, baby.”

You slap his cock again, harder this time, watching as his body twitches violently, his mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“My pathetic little bitch.”

Jungwon whimpers, actual sobs wracking through his chest, his tears slipping down his temples, pooling on the pillow beneath him.

“You gonna cry harder for me, baby?”

He nods frantically, completely lost, completely gone.

“P-please—please—please—”

“Then cum, you fucking whore.”

The second you wrap your lips around his cock, sucking him deep and tight, Jungwon fucking loses it.

His entire body seizes up, his legs shaking so hard the whole bed moves, his wrists pulling at the restraints so violently that the headboard slams against the wall, his mouth falling open in a broken, wrecked scream.

He fucking breaks.

Jungwon cums so violently his entire body shudders, his stomach spasming, his throat bobbing as sobs rip through him, his voice so destroyed he can’t even form words anymore.

You swallow every drop, humming around him, your tongue dragging along his overly sensitive tip, watching the way his body jerks violently with overstimulation.

But you don’t stop.

You stroke him through it, slow and tight, dragging every last drop from him, his cock pulsing, twitching, his whimpers turning into helpless, wrecked cries.

“T-too much—f-fuck, b-baby—”* His voice is so weak, so ruined, so utterly fucking destroyed that he can barely even breathe.

But you keep going.

You suck harder, dragging your nails down his trembling thighs, taking him all the way back into your mouth, and he shrieks, his whole body flinching violently, his breath catching in sharp little gasps.

“Oh, f-fuck—oh, f-fuck—oh my god—please—please—”

He’s struggling now, actively fighting against the restraints, his body jerking uncontrollably, trying to pull away, trying to escape—

But you don’t let him.

“Awww, baby,” you coo, mocking, your mouth still wrapped tight around his cock. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked being in control?”

Jungwon sobs, thrashing beneath you, actually trying to get away, but he can’t.

“N-no more—please—please, baby, I-I can’t—”

And then he cums again.

So hard that his whole body convulses, his legs shaking, his chest rising sharply, his voice breaking completely, his sobs turning into nothing but gasps for air.

This time, his body just stops working.

Even as you slow your strokes, even as you lick the last of him away, even as you finally pull off of him, Jungwon is completely still.

His head lolls to the side, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths, his body weak, trembling, completely destroyed.

He passes out.

You carefully untie his wrists, massaging his twitching arms, pressing soft kisses to his damp forehead.

Just as you start to move away his arms shoot out, wrapping around you like a fucking koala, pulling you into his chest so tight you can barely move.

“Shut the fuck up,” he mumbles, his voice wrecked, hoarse, completely fucking gone.

You grin.

“Sure, Won”

“You’re a fucking demon.”

You laugh softly, curling into him.

“I know, baby.”

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

“Come on, Niki,” you pouted, straddling his lap, holding the silk ties up with big, pleading eyes. “Just once. For me?”

Niki just raised an eyebrow, giving you that infuriatingly smug grin, stretching his long limbs behind his head like he wasn’t even taking you seriously.

“I don’t see the point,” he mused. “I’m already stronger than you. If I wanted to get out, I’d just… get out.”

You groaned, throwing yourself onto his chest dramatically. “It’s not about that! It’s about the experience, the control, the trust, the—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” he mocked, rolling his eyes. “Fine. I’ll let you tie me up. If it’ll make you happy, baby.”

You perked up instantly, grinning as you grabbed his wrists.

“Finally!”

Now?

Now, you’re two seconds from losing your damn mind.

Because Niki is absolutely ruining this.

Every time you tie him up, every time you think you’ve got him right where you want him—

He fucking escapes.

Like it’s nothing.

Like you’re not even trying.

The first time, you had him tied up nicely, wrists secured, headboard shaking, your lips trailing down his throat—and the next thing you knew, he was flipping you onto your back, his arms suddenly completely free as he grinned down at you.

“What the—NIKI!” you yelped, smacking his arm. “How did you—”

“Baby, come on,” he laughed, scooping you up effortlessly, pinning you beneath him like the whole tying-up thing never happened. “I’m literally taller than you. Did you really think I’d stay tied up?”

You pouted angrily, wiggling under him. “THAT’S NOT THE POINT!”

Take Two: Riding Him?

“Just stay tied up,” you whined, adjusting the silk restraints around his wrists again, glaring at him. “And don’t you dare break free this time, or so help me—”

Niki snorted, smirking up at you as you sank down onto him, taking him deep, your hands braced against his chest.

“Mmm, I’ll try, baby,” he murmured, watching you grind down, slow and deep, his lips parting on a low groan.

For once, it seemed like he was actually taking it seriously.

You relaxed, rolling your hips, settling into the moment—

Until—

SNAP.

You felt it before you even saw it.

The ties? Gone.

His hands? Completely free.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even do it on purpose—he just shifted slightly, and the fabric came undone like it was fucking Velcro.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” you screamed, shoving his chest in frustration, but the bastard just laughed, gripping your hips, rolling you deeper onto him.

“You really thought that would hold me?” he mocked, tilting his head, grinning like the little shit he was.

“I SPENT FIFTEEN MINUTES TYING YOU UP!”

“And I appreciate the effort, baby,” he cooed, flipping you onto your back effortlessly, pinning you beneath him again.

“But let’s be real… you can’t actually keep me down.”

Final Attempt: Face-Sitting

At this point, you were ready to lose it.

“Okay,” you said, shaking out your hands like an athlete preparing for battle, retying his wrists so tight that there was NO WAY he was getting out.

“This time, you’re staying put.”

Niki grinned up at you, that cocky glint in his eyes. “Sure, baby.”

You scowled, climbing up, hovering over his face, settling your weight down as you finally—finally—had your moment of victory.

Or so you thought.

Because the second you lowered yourself onto him, the second his mouth made contact, his arms shot out, grabbing your thighs, yanking you down so hard you almost fell forward.

“NIKI! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE TIED UP—”

He didn’t even let you finish.

Didn’t let you breathe.

Didn’t even let you process the betrayal.

Because in the next second, he was devouring you like a man starved, his grip on your thighs bruising, pulling you down so tight against his face that you had no choice but to take it.

Your body jerked violently, your fingers gripping the headboard for dear life, your breath knocked right out of youas his tongue moved so filthy, so deep, so desperate that your brain literally stopped functioning.

“N-Niki—oh my god—”

Then you heard it.

He was laughing.

Actually laughing against you, like this was the funniest fucking thing in the world, like he had just won some kind of twisted competition you didn’t even sign up for.

That’s when you snapped.

“GET YOUR FACE OUT OF THERE, YOU MENACE!” you shrieked, trying to pry his head away, trying to push yourself up, but it was fucking useless.

He had you locked down tight, had you right where he wanted you, and there was no escape.

“Nope,” he mumbled into you, smug as ever, lips dragging slow and torturous, his tongue curling in a way that made you tremble uncontrollably.

“I think I like it better this way.”

You don’t know how long he kept you there.

It felt like forever.

Your thighs were shaking violently, your body weak and useless, your mind nothing but static as you finally collapsed against the headboard, trying to catch your breath.

Niki had the fucking audacity to grin up at you, wiping his mouth like he’d just finished a damn meal, looking completely unbothered.

“So,” he mused, tilting his head innocently. “How’d that tying-up thing work out for you?”

You glared, your body still trembling, still trying to recover.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You wanted to smack him, you really did.

But you had no strength left.

So you just flopped onto the bed dramatically, groaning into the pillow, accepting your fate.

“I give up,” you muttered.

“Oh, baby,” he purred, grinning as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you like he hadn’t just betrayed you on every level possible.

“You gave up the second you tried to tie me up.”

-

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[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[theyluvjake]

im always down for munch jake thoughts 🤤🙏

- 🧸 <3

the fact this took me so long to answer bc i just couldn't formulate all my thoughts abt this... i am sorry.

but argue w the wall jake is THEE pussy muncher of all enha. like honestly i feel like he would rather eat pussy then actually fuck😭 like he lowkey has an oral fixation bc he loves to have his mouth all over you, tits included..

but above all he just wants to have his face buried between your thighs 24/7... imagine needy golden retriever bf jake who constantly is just whining in your ear like "pleaseeee, i just need a little taste.." and you can never deny him because hes so cute. of course its never a little taste because after the first sip of you hes drunk on it, arms locking around your legs holding them open so he can just devour you for hours on end.

sometimes you would be scared he was going to pass out from the lack of oxygen... bc he would not even want to come up to breathe. ughhsshsh fuck sorry jake just loves to eat pussy, his tongue is always out, i call that muscle memory!

[starryjake]

jake who always moans so fucking loud and normally you love it. just not when you’re at your fucking parents house.

you didn’t want to spend the night. it was only supposed to be a dinner, but the weather had other plans, leaving you snowed in with your parents and your boyfriend for the night.

“oh fuck, oh fuck,” jake chanted as you slowly ground yourself back and forth on his cock.

“shhh,” you scolded harshly, slapping a hand over his mouth. “you’re so fucking loud.”

“can’t help it,” he answered, his voice coming out muffled against the palm of your hand.

“try,” you spat, raising yourself up before lowering yourself back down the length of his dick, earning a guttural groan from him. “i said try or i’m not letting you cum at all.”

“mmmm,” he hummed, looking up at you with almost teary eyes. “i’m sorry. please let me cum. fuck, it feels so fucking good.”

“keep your mouth fucking shut, jake,” you demanded.

he gulped, trying his best to shut himself up, but it was an impossible task. you were in top of him, riding his cock in nothing but his oversized t-shirt. jake was in absolute heaven, yet you expected him to be quiet.

however, you were mean. you meant it when you said you wouldn’t let cum if he made another peep, and you held true to that.

jake couldn’t last five more minutes without moaning again, so you climbed off his cock and sat down on his face instead. the one way to make him shut up was with your pussy in his mouth.

the only problem was that your boyfriend was so sensitive that he came anyway…untouched.