my luv 4 u was bulletproof but u're the one who shot me ✃𓄧

He knows about your shady boss who only recognizes you for your looks rather than intellect, affectionately nicknamed 'Luce' for Lucifer. He knows about your ninth grade class choir performance where your solo ended in the worst voice crack known to man, a chorus of aw's and oof's still keeping you up at night. He even knows about younger you so hellbent on impressing your crush, you picked him up bridal-style like some male peacock because who didn't like a strong lady? Though nothing came of the bravado show except an almost kiss, it still makes your skin crawl when you remember, especially when he shows up on your Instagram, a proposal post with his beloved messing with your time perception. The point of the matter is these are all anecdotes of your life you've chosen to share with Jay, no stone left unturned because your relationship has always been like that: a open book, every life-describing sentence on full display, a testament to the safety you regard each other with.

This, however, is something you have to hide. A token kept all to yourself. 

Jay is no stranger to your sexual preferences, the near-identical crossover of his own making for sex good enough to make you blush. What he doesn't know, however, is what it's taken to build those fantasies. Starting off as a joke between you and your birthday twin, Winter purchase matching heart-shaped gem butt plugs during your early university years. That same year, another one of your friends puts you on a vibrating dildo from an infamous site holding everything you didn't know existed. It's embarrassing how long you spend scrolling through their catalogue later that night, toys and objects all built for the sole purpose of getting off running your mouth dry. Three days later, your vibrating dildo arrives (albeit delivered to your all-boys neighbours, who are none the wiser due to the site's discreet packaging). However, the dildo is not the only thing rattling in your beat-up box, a 10-function rabbit vibrator coming with a tube of water-based lube you found out wouldn't mess with your pH balance. That night, when your university town is nothing but a whisper, you put the toys to the test, your world forever changed. Not only do you soak your cautionary bed-laid towel, but you have quite possibly the best orgasm no Tinder hookup (nor your medieval method of using your fingers) could ever give you. 

It's the start of an unlikely obsession, lulls of your day spent private-browsing The Hot Spot™'s ridiculously cheap deals and raving reviews for graphic products that no longer faze you. Lingerie, toys and the likes, your collection slowly builds over the years, a nightmare to hide when moving back into your family home after university but ultimately something you frequently use once in the comfort of your own place. You subject yourself to purchases on special occasions only, like Black Friday or the promotion Luce gives you for your hardwork. It's the pay-raise affording you the means to move into a nicer apartment with Jay, the upgrades of your life calling for a celebration. Jay takes you to a nice candle-lit dinner, puts you through the mattress then sends you the lease contract the next morning, your only other email notification noting your package is On Its' Way!

It's not like you haven't considered telling Jay. After all, his ego is no where near fragile enough to contest with a battery-powered device. And to some extent, you do tell him. Introduce your select favourites to the bedroom, sheepishness burning your cheeks for all the wrong reasons because Jay is happy to oblige, making you come harder than that one night back at uni. So, really, there's no need for all the secrecy and yet here you are, tucking away your generous collection in another box, full with your plushies. Truly, it's not worth the (literal) back-breaking weight of carrying around but with all the cheap deals through the years and your hereditary hoarding gene (how does one dispose of sex toys anyways?), your stockpile became less of a point to understand, and more so concerning.

Thus, it becomes classified information, cast aside in the busyness of life as you pack your life away to begin a new one. A new office, more visibility at work where senior colleagues see your place isn't earned by Luce's favouring, but your own grit. You have more money to save and spend, adding zeros to the monthly allowance you send your parents while also affording yourself the hobbies and friend-focused events you'd been priced out of. 

Like this one, your annual drive up to the coast with your birthday twin. Salt sea breeze blows a chill through your linen clothing, oyster sizzling atop industry-sized open grills as the luscious green of the restaurant's vineyard stretches on for infinity, dipping into the bright blue of the ocean metres away. The quaint, surfer's haven town holds precious memories of your university years, afternoon unfolding like a poetic return back to a former you; cackling at largely inappropriate comments and drinking more than you should. It's desperately what you need after the exhausting marathon that is moving house, box after box spawning from nowhere, blocking most walkways in your apartment. 

And how could you forget, the source of most, if not all your misery? The fact that you can't find that box.

No matter how much you rummaged through your plushie box, there is no other box to be found, heart running fast enough to power a small country as you attempt your best non-frazzled face as Jay purposely sings off-key to John Mayer, making you two cocktails while shirtless. It's the silliest, most attractive sight you've seen to date, distracting enough to leave your troubles behind as you christen your new bedroom, no time spared as the following day requires an early rise, a long drive ahead of you.

Winter's voice interrupts your searching thoughts, chestnut hair shimmering in the golden hour. "Wooyoung wants to propose." 

Your jaw comes off its hinges, hand smacked down on the table-functioning barrel. "Oh my god! Did he say something or?"

"Nah, I saw him practising getting down on one knee three days ago," she explains, smile creeping onto her tinted lips, cheeks sunkissed. "Thank fuck he didn't get down on both."

"Like someone we know." you simultaneously face-palm, tragically recalling Soobin's spontaneous proposal to another friend, the glee so bright in his eyes, completely oblivious to the internet's commentary tearing him to shreds. Hell, the video even appeared on the seven o'clock news, a hot debate topic eventually calling on him to appear on TV to defend his actions. 

"Anyways," You smooth the crease in your forehead, regrouping with a sip of centuries old wine. It goes down smoother than the first. "That's so sweet. I can't wait to get plastered at your wedding."

"Me too. Let's hope my grandma doesn't wear another catsuit to win my grandpa back,"

"I need to meet your circus of your family." you insist, watching the sun dip past the ocean's horizon, a drop in temperature incoming.

"You've already met my dad - that's enough laughter to last a lifetime," she swirls her wine to waft towards her sniffing nose, a pleased nod following. "Anyways, can you believe I might marry my uni sweetheart? Did you ever think I was that soft?" 

"He is one of the last above bare-minimum men out there," you volley back. "A man that actually does something about the shit stains in his toilet - you had to lock that shit down."

The reference to your unfortunate experience goes over her head, chin in her palm as she gazes lovingly into the vague distance, fairylights to the evening backdrop dotting specks in her eyes. She looks beautiful like this, happy. It's all you can ask for.

"God, remember when I went to visit him at uni? When we'd just bought those birthday buttplugs?"

"You mean when his roommates found yours in the shared bathroom?" you snicker entirely, a half-hearted hand stifling the obnoxious sound.

"I swear, I took it back to the room with me!" Her expression is densely incredulous, so set in her ways despite her forgetful nature. "How it ended back there beats me."

"Maybe the Ghost of Buttplug Past wanted to make their presence known?" you jokingly offer, shrinking into bad posture at her mean scowl. "I'll shut up now."

"Good call," Her brown eyes unscrew, something kinder crossing her face as she takes another sip, nodding over to you. "Anyways, what's your deal? Still have yours?"

Just what you needed: a reminder of the worst.

"I'd use the word have very loosely here," her head tilts, prompting you to continue. "I do, but I can't fucking find it. Anywhere."

"You just moved house, it's probably lumped in with another box somewhere,"

"Yeah, except the box I distinctly remember using as a decoy didn't have it. Not one single toy," Your throat bobs, hard pulse in your dry throat. You disguise the internal freakout with a sip of your drink, a less than convincing smile in its wake. "How fucked do you think I am?"

"Considering you didn't have movers help you, not at all. Jay's probably going through them wondering why you didn't use his card to pay for them," 

Realisation opens your expression, mouth down-turned in acknowledgement "Huh. I'll keep that in mind next purchase."

"Yeah, let's hope there's no mix-up this time round. Wouldn't want another person nearly open your confetti-themed dildo," she snickers, waving over a waiter for another bottle.

"You're just mad it's pretty, and I bought it first." 

"Of course. I can get matching buttplugs with you, but I draw the line at dildos," she concludes, the sizzle of cooking oysters and rich people chatter suddenly gaining decibels. "In any case, your box of goodies will show up — one way or another."

You're trying to increase the chance of your 'goodies' showing up one way, speeding down the highway like you're headed to a fire, only to decelerate to law-abiding speed because your bed's already been made. With Jay having the apartment to himself over the weekend, it's only a matter of time until he's found the box. Initially, the thought clammed up your palms against the steering wheel while Winter dozes off beside you, but the more miles you cross, the more the thought diminishes in size. Maybe it's a good thing he finds it, because you could put a couple toys to good use since some had collected dust due to your unfound fear of judgement. 

It wouldn't save you from embarrassment, though.

Through the journey, all your rumination eats away at your energy, an executive decision made to get some pick-me-ups and touch grass if possible. Past the halfway mark, you pull over into a rest stop, a rare occurrence judging by Winter's blinked confusion. The snack run consists of you trying not to obviously dance to the Fall Out Boy song blaring through the sleek grey rest stop's speakers and giving a dirty glare to the kid reaching for your favourite chocolate bar, last in stock. Fueled by sugar and rolled-down windows, Winter hosts a jam session of all your favourite pre-game songs, yelling the lyrics at the top of your lungs while trying to not swerve off the road. Like many moments over your weekend together, it holds a special place in your heart. 

Later on, you drop Winter off after she apologizes for not accompanying you further, another family emergency her explanation before you peel off, not ready to go home yet. The local gym sees you work off steam, hauling weights and setting new PB's, a wild dash on the treadmill birthing the remark 'what are you training for?' by the ninety year old lady next to you. Anything at this rate is your honest answer. 

To repair the stupid strain your muscles endure, the fast-casual Mexican restaurant down the corner from your apartment witnesses you insist on grilled chicken and reward you with a generous food portion. For once, you eat-in, the dread of seeing all your toys sprawled on the bed with Jay's horrified expression not to your liking. And instead of dinner and Youtube, it's a late-lunch coupled with people watching. Whichever is healthier is still up for debate. 

Eventually, you lug your body back to your sky-scrapping apartment, a place amongst the clouds with no sight of Jay and the box. Weird. No time is left to dwindle on the thought though, at least owing yourself a shower after your self-induced long day. Blistering hot water runs down your back, relieving tensed muscles maintained over the week. You've barely dressed yourself - a sorry excuse of shorts and ratty tank top - before frustration starts to rear its head, your hand flinging your bedroom door open. 

With good timing too because Jay comes through the front door, kicking off his shoes in a hurry when he sees you. He's sunshine personified as all his tender eyes see is you, innate instinct to barrel towards you as you meet him halfway between kitchen and living room. He picks you off the floor, spinning you round and dotting your skin with kisses, your face scrunched up in faux annoyance. 

"Don't leave me again. Having to babysit Ni-ki was everything I didn't bargain for." he mumbles into your skin, placing you back to earth.

Your arms rest around him, wrists crossed over at his nape while a boulder of dread sinks to your feet. "Ni-ki was here?"

"Yeah, I asked him to help out, but he just stuck on his playlist and crip-walked all over the place," he sighs, eyes rolling as his thumb trace patterns against your hip bones. "Remind me to kick him off our Spotify Family Plan."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Noted."

"How was the coast? What mischief did you and Winter get up to?" 

"Beautiful. We drank our weight in wine. Pretty sure she ate shit on the way back to our BnB…then we proceeded to be sick in the same bathroom," you explain, breaking out into a smile. "Like the good old days." 

"Yeah, I heard from the voice notes," he laughs, tearing himself from you to venture into the kitchen, fewer boxes littering the area, like the lounge. He'd worked a lot since you'd left. 

You face-palm, cringing at the memory. "I thought we agreed you'd never listen to my drunk voice notes."

"I'm sorry but when I get six very urgent notifications from you — a man has to worry," he explains, water bottle retrieved from the fridge. "Then again, I didn't mind hearing how much you miss my coc-" 

"Okaaaay, conversation over!" you yell over palms shielding your ears, mirth across Jay's face as he comes from behind the white marble counter towards you, sneaking a kiss on your cheek you try dodge before making some muffled comment about going for a shower. 

When the bedroom door closes behind him, your sharp turn loses its edge on the rug Jay laid in your absence, your combined mismatched furniture amidst few boxes. You'd probably checked them before, but it wouldn't hurt checking again, especially after how normal Jay seemed. He would've brought it up if he'd come across it. As such, you take your chance, throwing on one of Ni-ki's playlists as you rummage once again, jitters jolting your hands every time you hit the bottom of a box — no 'goodies' found.

It's only a matter of time before your confusion/dread sharpens with a tinge of frustration. You'd dedicated a good amount of time searching. Surely, it would've turned up by now. You can't miss a box with a confetti-themed dildo - you just couldn't. So, either you need to get your eyes checked or The Ghost of Buttplug Past is out to get you too because this doesn't make any sense. 

Less than polite words race through your head as you amble towards your shared bedroom, the very dreaded question at your mind's forefront.

Where the hell is that damn—

Right in front of you. All your belongings. The box nowhere to be found, but each and every toy acquired off The Hot Spot™ spread out in their generous amount. There's so many of them, enough for you to reconsider: Hey, maybe I am a goon—

"Quite the collection you've got."

Sheer horror washes over you, moisture drying out your eyes as they stretch in alarm, your figure so overwhelmed it freezes. As if your stillness would save you from whatever doom awaits you. Too many beats pass, no word from Jay, and certainly no word from you. What could you say, realistically? 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

It's a hall of fame cop-out, that much clear in Jay's reaction as he stands beside everything you're not talking about, calm facade breaking. He has the audacity to laugh out loud: doubled over in a hands-on-knees kind of laugh. You're pretty sure you see a tear escape, a misplaced huff of frustration flaring out your nostrils as your body regains some movement, arms crossing over your chest defensively.

Screw him for cornering you, especially looking like that. All slutted out with nothing but sweatpants on, hair barely dried, messy just the way you like it.

"I found it amongst your plushie collection," Jay explains, surprisingly nonchalant, muscles emphasized as his own arms cross over his chest. "Crazy place to stash them."

You cough, looking away. "You didn't have to go through my stuff."

His arms open up in a plea, a grapple at understanding. "I thought I was helping unpack. I didn't think it would upset you," his voice trails, eyes narrowing in appraisal. "Are you…embarrassed?"

You don't reply, an answer in itself. He sees it in your averted gaze, the wobbled pout on your lips. He'd be a madman if he didn't crowd your space, clasping your head like you're something precious.

"Honey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," he starts off, smile holding all kinds of charm. "May I remind you, I was there when we got that sex swing which - by the way, we haven't used," His brow arches. "What's up with that?"

Your eyes roll, listlessly swatting away his hands. "What's up is that you hovered non-verbally around me whilst I contemplated what nasty freak-adjacent words you were calling me," 

"Baby, you let me spit in your mouth. It doesn't get any freakier than that." 

Silence ensues, your eyes looking left then right.

"…You have a point," your shoulder slump, defeated. In a second, you're rearing again, shame a hard emotion to tackle. "Still, this is different. It's…a nasty habit. I mean, I haven't used half of this stuff since we met, so I could've downsized a bit, y'know? Would've saved my back and made me look, uhm less…feral."

Realities belonging to a different universe race through your mind, past moments showing up in times where you could've told Jay and didn't.

"Look," A soft edge cuts through your thoughts, a hot knife into butter as your eyes trail to your boyfriend, comfort in the shape of his lips."The only reason I didn't say anything then was because I was thoroughly confused by the group of teenagers in the store, not because I was calling you freak-adjacent words. I bought the swing, didn't I?"

There were other people in the store? You hadn't noticed, nor remembered. Goes to show how much you'd been in your own head. A moment's silence holds your affirmative nod, rationality skewing your worries so small in the grand scheme of things.

"Lord knows what kind of hell Luce puts you through, not to mention all the other stresses of life. You do what you can to relieve stress, yeah? All in moderation, since I haven't caught you jerking off…yet," 

You punch him for good measure.

He smiles regardless, rubbing his bruised bicep. "My point is, maybe this isn't so terrible. Of course, you can get rid of some toys you don't use anymore but I don't think learning how to pleasure yourself is a bad thing," his lips draw to your ear, the ghost of his breath treading a shudder down your bowed spine. "Just wish you'd told me so I knew what really makes you feel good."

Air disappears out the room in a quick vacuum, skipped beats in the disorganization of your heart's rhythm. Your brain follows the trend, thoughts dashing everywhere, none sticking to the canvas linked to your mouth.

"You already do." is what you manage, eyes carefully examining Jay's wandering hands, nimble fingers playing with your tank top strap.

"We'll come back to that," his low voice asserts, not an inch of space separating you as the outline of his cock buries into the curve of your ass, an automatic push back. "For now, I'm more interested in putting that swing to good use, amongst other things. Why don't you put on that set I've been dying to see, huh?"

He nods to the bed before you can ask, eyes finding the lacey black and blush pink basque crotchless set you'd purchased together, but had been too self-conscious to wear. Nerves ball at the top of your throat, gulped down as Jay bunches your hair to one side, chaste kisses lining your exposed shoulder. Goosebumps make up your skin layer, a trembling breath all that absorbs the silence in the room, save for his teasing kisses. Coldness eats away at your skin the second he leaves, mere steps away yet having all your attention as your mind attempts to catch up to your movements.

Curiosity cast a glance over your shoulder, Jay's defined back to yours, grey sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips as he secures the sleek black swing to your bedroom door. The sight alone is enough to make you come, a pained whimper muffled by pinched lips as you slip on the garment, jittery hands easing over imaginary creases following the black mesh stocking you pull over your knees, garter belt connecting them to your basque. In the disorganization of the shared bedroom, your eyes catch onto a haphazardly placed full-length mirror, eyes brightening at the curves and slopes of yourself moulded perfectly with the beauty of the corset. In stark contrast with the anticipatory insecurity thought to be felt once you slipped this on, all you feel is a bloom in confidence, only egged on by Jay's lack of better words, huffs of disbelief as you meet halfway in the room, his hands outlining your figure.

"How are you so perfect?" he suffocates your face with kisses, giggles your reply. "I'm obsessed with you."

"If I couldn't tell," is your teasing quip, smirk kissed off your face by your beloved. 

"What was that, smartass?" he jokes after rendering your breathless, holding you indecently as heat brews low in your belly, sight gaining a hazy film. 

With arms circled around his nape, your hands slip down to his broad shoulders, thumb ghosting his heart-shaped birthmark. You want to eat it clean off him. 

"Fuck me," you wink, mischief lining your smile. "Need you so bad, Jay."

Your assumption is you've buried him, crushed him under the weight of your raunchy words prying his stunned lips apart as he looks at you, iris dialling several shades darker, switch in demeanour seen in real-time.

"That's not my name."

Oh.

He spies the surprise in your widened eyes, a devilish curve in his lips as he whispers nice and low. "Try again, princess."

All that confidence you had not even a minute ago? Out the window, plummeting to the ground floor because surely he doesn't expect you to say it to his face…right?

Unimpressed is how best you can describe his skeptical face, calling upon a word notching your nails into his shoulders, head turned to save yourself further embarrassment.

"Daddy..." the word nosedives an anchor of lust into your stomach, features pinched together as you give him glossy, begging eyes. "Fuck me — please."

To really bring home your point, you let your nails drag down his skin, knowing how much it turns him on until your hand shadows his, bringing him to where you want him most - dripping, waiting for him.

Nothing else is said, only action taken as Jay captures your lips in a searing kiss, making you feel every shred of want in him as he shuffles you back towards the door, where the swing awaits you. Kissed breathless, your head spins as he helps you into the contraption-like thing, anticipation in its' black straps as he secures you in place.

The swing is…small. Granted you wouldn't be balancing on your ass forever, but the band supporting it isn't the most accommodating and when you settle, your hands can't help with the desperate grips on the straps, grateful the door would support you if things went sideways. Jay's got you—in more ways than one. Nudges you up against the door so not all the tension concentrates in your core, leaving room for the heart-fluttering twist in your stomach as you watch him reach for the ridged finger stimulators, over his index and middle finger. The gulp you do is heard throughout the room.

"Two different textures," Jay muses, lone lip corner lifting. He's so close his presence suffocates you, rich musk scent wafting in a heady embrace. "A bit greedy, no?"

"There was a good deal." 

"Sure there was, pervert," he huffs, stealing the air right out your lungs as he leans closer—if possible—cold silicone of the ribbed stimulator gliding down in between your glossed folds, from the top of your clit down to your twitching entrance. The way your body jerks halfway off the swing amuses Jay, smugness written into his features as he takes the opportunity while you're glaring through your eyebrows to slide one finger in, bobble texture of the stimulator pulling your jaw open.

"This one your favourite?" he taunts, watching you squirm as he curls the finger. "Sure looks like it."

Worlds apart is the difference between your own fingers and his in you, his fingers — longer, thicker —reaching places your poor fingers couldn't, finding the spot that makes you detonate so easily before he hits it again and again, other ribbed finger slipping inside your weeping cunt clinging to him like a vice. The scene unfolding before you sears into the fabric of your memory, body running hotter than lava, left without nothing to do except writhe and whine in the contraption reducing you to Jay's whims, his covered fingers bearing the sole responsibility of the raunchy squelch between your legs. 

"Still with me, princess?" his voice carries false concern, more amused than anything. Who could blame him, of course? You're putty in his hands, hips bucking to grind harder against the silicone grain, hopeless wails and whimpers flowing from you. They quickly filter into Jay's mouth, something so sweet in stark contrast with his fingers pumping into you, against your sweet spot, you barely able to kiss him back. 

He'll be your demise, chuckling into the sad excuse of a kiss, boiling you down to raw need, sucking him in as your lips chase his, lashes fluttering between his. He happily obliges, despite your preoccupied efforts, close to full debilitation as his thumb draws lazy circles on your clit, your approaching orgasm kicked into high gear.

"Aren't you happy I found your toys?" he murmurs, a nibble of your bottom lip between his teeth eliciting a loud moan square in his face, playful yet pained. The large outline in his sweatpants made the latter apparent, your mouth watering at the damp spot staining them shades darker. "Don't have hump yourself silly with the help of these things. Not when I can do it for you."

The mouth on this man. You're almost delirious, mouth hanging open with pants pushing out your laboured chest, the warmth pooling in your tummy enough to exaggerate your squirms, whines dialled up several decibels as slick lines his fingers, dripping onto your newly polished floor.

"Give daddy a kiss." You nearly leap at the opportunity, lips overlapping his in a frenzied, desperate mess, tongue canvasing every inch of his mouth as too much builds in you, seconds away from the end.

"Wait, wait — oh my god, I think I'm gonna," a squeal interrupts you, eyebrows scrunched together as a wild look overtakes the hue in your eyes. "I'm gonna—ah!"

The world comes crashing down in a matter of seconds, body knocking into the hard wall of your orgasm as white streaks by your eyes, mind no longer tethered to your body. In vague consciousness, your cunt clamps down hard on Jay's clothed fingers, ridges of the finger stimulator spraying clear liquid out your cunt, head knocking back onto the door as your hands struggle to hold onto the straps. The puddle beneath you is borderline obscene, juices splattered all over Jay's hand and some on his sweatpants, his gaze transfixed as his slow finger curls help you ride out your orgasm, hips helplessly following the soft circles he draws on your overstimulated clit.

"You made such a mess, baby," the marvel carries over your muffled hearing, hazy film coating your vision being blinked away as you focus on Jay's face, eyes darker than midnight sky. "Must've felt so good. Bet you can give me another one, can't you?"

Before you can slur out a 'What?' Jay is on his knees, peering up at you like you put all the stars in the sky. It's the twinkle in his eyes undoing you all over again, legs thrown over his shoulders with his gaze fluttering back to your cunt, lapping your slick with the flat of his tongue. You suffer through the most violent shudder of your life, loud gasp sucking all the air in the room leaving your throat to feel like sandpaper, cunt stupidly overstimulated. Pain and pleasure do a torturous dance, opposing each other before tension melts and they become one, taut expression morphing to one of relief as Jay eats you out like a five star meal, special devotion dedicated to your throbbing clit, earning him all the shrieks his ego desires. 

"Sweetest fucking cunt in the world," he moans into you, vibrations of his voice a shove to the edge. "It's a fucking privilege to eat you out." 

Cotton mouth gets you, tongue too heavy to speak, only lolled out as you hold on for dear life, something like a scream ripped out your hoarse throat at his tongue treads deep past your twitching entrance. When your eyes can pry apart longer than a fluttered second, your view fills with Jay, lips and cheeks glistening with eyes closed in bliss, a physical manifestation of his words. It's too much too quickly, coil wound too tight, and you shake like a leaf. Crossing your legs round his shoulders with gratification-obsessed hips grinding into his mouth, smothering the man between thighs he'd be happy to die between. The thought sends you overboard, fully submerged in a sea of euphoria as you come into his mouth, every drop swallowed in the slow return to earth your body does as you ride out your second orgasm.

In the early evening hues of night, Jay stands to meet your limp shell, shit-eating grin across his infuriatingly handsome face. Which still shines with your come, cock straining in the comfort of his sweatpants, so close to your core your hips move to meet it with a pained mewl.

It's unfair, unruly and every other un-accompanying word explaining how devastatingly made Jay is for you, going from strength to strength in the demise of what you thought was the pinnacle of your pleasure. He rewrites the story of your body, hot wiring to whims thought to be your own as he kisses you, deep and longing, a moan birthed to the taste of yourself. 

Parting to lean his forehead against yours, you catch his smirk in the scarce lighting, bedroom bare bones as you hear him whisper, "As sexy as you look in this swing, this won't work for the things I wanna do to you," 

He kisses you again, short and sweet. "Let's get you to bed, yeah?" 

All you can manage is humming your affirmations, sitting pretty as Jay helps you out of the swing, slinging you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes before you collapse into the plush of the bed, toys pushed aside for more important matters. Hovering over you, Jay's hungry eyes wonder over your body, palming himself shamelessly before his eyes catch onto something behind you. He retrieves it before you can catch a glimpse.

"Do you trust me?" His voices comes out a careful whisper, the jangle of black fluffed handcuffs moving into view. Adrenaline floods your bloodstream, eyes blinking away your surprise to nod your head yes. "Words, princess."

"I trust you - always." And you mean it, reflected in your closed-mouth smile as your wrists are offered on a silver platter. Mirroring your tenderness, he reinforces the cuffs around your wrists, fluff tickling against the sensitive skin.

You're too busy admiring the colour contrast against your skin, you only feel the press of his lips against your forehead, lips grazing as he mumbles into your skin. "On your stomach, baby."

Bewitched, you follow his instructions to a tee, shifting off the edge of the bed and assisted to a softer landing on your knees. Jay's large hand pushes the slump in your back, ass up with a pillow under your hips, wrists bound in front of you, anticipation the start of your undoing. 

In the surrender of your body, its sensations heighten, hearing gathering the scope of rustling clothing, its descent to the floor with the string of curse words carrying out Jay's mouth. Live wire transmits through your body as Jay's hot tip collects slick from your leaking entrance, the audacity to glide his cock through your slick-covered folds breaking you down bit by bit, body twitching with every drag. Eventually, he swirls his tip around you enough times to wind himself up, his pulsing length finally entering you with a strangled moan and relieved exhale. Your body instantly relaxes, walls instantly moulding to the shape of him, hot and heavy in you. What your body doesn't recognise is a dull vibration dancing against just above your entrance, a furrow in your eyebrows as your head attempts to turn backwards. 

"Did you…?" you're trying to find the words, picture if what you're thinking is actually within realms of possibility. "Are you wearing a cock ring?"

His moan, chopped and surprised, is your reply, his hip accidentally knocking forwards, a harsh clamp down on his length from you at the intrusion. 

"I don't think I can, fuck — last long with this thing on," Jay rushes out, the vibrations rippling through skin by flush proximity, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. "I'm gonna fuck you hard. Is that okay?" Your yes might as well be his sentence's question mark, whining out so quick Jay can't help but give a featherlight chuckle as his hands adjust against your hips, a sturdiness your heart flutters at.

"Of course it's okay, you always take everything I give you," a squelch makes itself known as Jay carefully slides back out, a begging pant echoing out your mouth. It blossoms to a full blown squeal as he pushes back inside, burying himself to the hilt before his hips build a toe-curling rhythm. "Such a needy thing, aren't you? Can never have your fill, huh?"

The questions blend to nonsense soup in the thing between your ears, an explosion of fiery pleasure jolting through your bloodstream as Jay's thrusts turn punishing, the indents of his fingertips hard enough to leave their mark come tomorrow. The room fills with indecency, the hard smack of meeting flesh mixing with the abundant slick oozing out of you, drenching Jay's cock as he fills you more than before, thicker to a dizzying degree. 

"Oh god," you drawl, nails clawing for a shred of sanity. "You're so  — you're so big. I'm full."

"Can't believe how tight you are after I used you like a toy," he grits out, teeth bared as a palm sizzles against your ass, a cry of bliss following. "How dirty are you, really? For me to slip right in?" 

His words twist just right in you, slumped figure jutting back to meet his hips, capturing each and every ridge with the drag of his cock as he pumps into you furiously, the pressured coil within you building in no time at all.

"Who's daddy good girl? Who's my pretty princess?"

"Me, meeeeee!" the words pour out you, high-pitched and absolutely wrecked as you're melting into the springs of the mattress, a drooled puddle on the duvet where your mouth is as you moan with every thrust. Jay does his damnedest to push you over the edge, notching himself hard enough to make you twitch all over, the loud smack of your ass against his hipbones making your walls to milk him dry. "I'm daddy's g-good girl."

"Don't you ever-" he thrusts hard, shoving you up the mattress. "-forget it, okay?"

Your verbal answer comes out in garbled gibberish, the height of your pleasure already surpassed as you let the tears fall, dotting the duvet cover as your lips helplessly part, puffy and pink as your handcuffs provide no escape but into the bottomless pit of ecstasy. 

You're close, and it frustrates you to no end because you could stay like forever. Taking Jay's cock, stretching yourself with his length, drenching him over the filthy words he bruises your ears with. It overwhelms you, spilling over in pleas and blinked away tears, cries of your impending climax coming in with swiftness.

"Pleasepleaseplease! I'm coming, I'm coming!" you cry, throat rasped with claw marks running down the duvet. "Gonna come on Daddy's cock!" 

Everything within you shatters like glass, body giving in as it burns so bright, it turns to ashes, fragmenting to small pieces floating back to earth as your orgasm dwindles. Behind you, there's vague grunts travelling through your muffled hearing, spasming walls overused but still clinging onto Jay as his hips stutter through their erratic speed, an eventful spill into you making you shiver all over, warming from the inside. 

The vibrations die off too, only laboured breaths cycling through the humid air heavily lingering with yours and his scent. Past exhaustion, even blinking your eyes is tiresome, body one with the mattress as Jay's footsteps patter to and from the bed. He's quick to undo your restraints, thumbs easing over glimpses of irritated skin with the kind of concern that makes your heart grow three sizes bigger. He patters back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom, a warm cloth wipes the flooded mess between your legs. Still sensitive, your body recoils in sensitivity before he peppers you in sweet apologies and assurances, the moment a warm glow throughout you as Jay collapses down next to you, pulling your body into his. 

"Was that okay? I wasn't too much?" he murmurs against your forehead, kissing it between words.

"Not at all. I think," your eyes catch onto his, a sudden bout of humility washing over you, your eyes going elsewhere as you burrow into his chest. "That was good."

"You're cute," he muses, the slowing rhythm of his heartbeat filling your eardrums. "To think you're the same person who-"

A loud crash cuts his sentence halfway, exhausted eyes prying open in terror as they dart to the source of commotion: the sex swing, a sad mess of straps on the hardwood floor with a door halfway off its hinges. Despite your rigid bodies, you two share a scandalized look, unsure where to even begin. 

"Think the landlord will be mad at us?" you end up asking.

"Nah," is Jay's steadfast answer, arms bringing you into his embrace. "Nothing a Hot Spot™ deal can't fix."

thank you for reading („• ֊ •„)੭

"You have nothing to worry about, the promotion is yours."

What should be assuring words from your boyfriend, do little in dismissing the ongoing doubt burrowed in your chest. 

Objectively speaking, he's right. You, a corporate slave, who for the most part shuts up and does their work, should be a shoe-in for the latest high-up position in your glassed office. You're friendly enough for colleague early morning smiles, firm enough to stick up for sheepish juniors, who thank you with pastries from your city's finest. You're dilligent and a force to be reckoned with, perfectly capable and deserving of the stepping stone in your endless ambition.

But the promotion isn't just offered to you. Instead it's proposed as 'healthy competition' between you and the worst human alive.

Some self-entitled, rich prick who if he couldn't have any more wrong with him, is a raging misogynist. With a knack for charading and flaunting generational wealth, Hajoon easily bypasses barriers the rest of your colleagues were sanctioned to through hardwork and ungodly overtime hours. Everyone is beneath him, especially you as every win he earns (buys) is directed at you, through piano key veeners and his 'improved' hairline. 

He also loves to ass-kiss, disgused as niceness as he invites your boss to the life he dreams of: exclusive golf tours, high-end dinner reservations ─ all for the sake of discussing 'business.' It's a flimsy excuse, seen when your boss at least has the decency to be embarrased about. Yet, it doesn't stop him for pitting you together in a race that's already set.

"Let's hope Hajoon doesn't take him to the masters," you scroll through your song library, swiping indiscriminately. "There's only so much prestige I can offer."

"Your work speaks for itself, pretty," Jake chances a glance at you, comfort moulded in his lips. "You mopped the floor with him in that last presentation. It's yours," 

"Besides," he starts, country road stretching past the dust-speckled windshield. "If your boss is so horribly mistaken to choose him, I'd personally bake them a shit pie for their troubles."

You smile despite yourself, a snicker from him triggering yours as their shared volume overrides the murmured engine roar. 

"You're right. About the shit-eating too but," you chuckle, phone dropped into your lap to peer through the window, watching the rustic landscape pass you by. "Things have been so hectic and I think I've placed a lot importance on this than what's good for me." 

"It's good to be driven, love. It's one of your many best traits," just briefly, your eyes catch, the tenderness in his enough to turn your head away. "But this is what this weekend is about. A step back to center yourself, because regardless of what happens, you deserve to put yourself first."

He changes gears, movement second-nature beforer his hand overlaps your thigh, broadly splayed over your jeans with rosy-knuckles and firm grip. Stable, like you've always known him to be. 

Your hand folds over his, a squeeze given to extend your gratitude where words fail. But he knows, knows you in all the pieces given through the six months you've known each other. 

He says this trip to the mountains is a celebration of the milestone, but you know better. You're well aware he's seen you at your most exhausted, still showing up for him and others because contrary to cynic's beliefs, your loved ones come first. He's seen the frustation sear the white of your knuckles, jaw clinched at Hajoon's insults, a loser you don't dignify with a response, letting your work speak for itself. And through it all, he shows up for you. Constantly, but especially now. 

The soft smile on your face doesn't waver as the car eats away at miles travelled, nearing halfway through your journey as Jake pulls into a rest-stop. Humble in size, the establishment offers a string of fast-food restaurants, petrol pumps and an old jungle gym with 'Unsafe. Do Not Enter' sign hanging off it. Before you're able to browse the convenience store to line your stomach, peaked neon lights capture your attention.

Tucked away on the outskirts of the property stands a store half the size of all others, a neon sign of the evil eye lending out a helping hand glowing in hues of violet and rouge. The windows line themselves in the same violet colour, drapes as the backdrop for meticulously placed crystals, tarot cards, singing bowls and the like. Your focus then falls to a poster plastered to the front door, adorned in gold stars over the graphic red curtain background.

Readings available. Learn your destiny here!

Something tugs at you, halts you in step to stare the store down, the lull of car passengers' dulling to nothing. You aren't a stranger to the occult, the centre of many readings your university friends' enticed you into, taking frequent trips with them to your town's crystal shop whilst running errands, only to leave with a set of your own. And when things got dark, you carried a blunt rose quartz in your bra in the hopes your dining hall crush would miraculously notice you. He did, but he wasn't your person for a whole host of reasons, reasons you never lowered your standards for ever again. 

In any case, you are receptive. Open to any messages you feel aligned to and with the ticking seconds hinging on suspense, you give in. 

"I'm gonna go check that store out," your thumb hikes over your shoulder, hand shielding the glare of afternoon sun. "I'll be back."

Jake's head lifts from the fuel filler neck, finding the store then your figure. He doesn't say anything, familar with your bedroom's shelf of collected crystals, incense and tarot cards, flashing you a small smile as he replies, "Take your time. I'll get us snacks."

You thank him in a wink, one sent. back to the affect of a spring in your step, wind blowing in your hair as you tug at the end of your sleeves, jitters alive and well.

The door chimes with your entrance, tranquill sounds of running water filling your ears as curiosity soaks up the shop's interior. Glass shelves lined with their bigger crystal collection: pendulums, palm stones and moldavite necklaces barricaded away. In the singular aisle waist-high is a long, dusted table with woven baskets, an assortment of smaller crystals grouped by purposes, labelled as such. Tiny string lights lace racks, an entanglement of feathered-dream catchers and veined greenery. The opposite wall, identical in decor, holds various tarot and oracle decks, all breath-taking alongside scrying tools taken straight from the Gothic age, marvelled at in quiet astonishment.

The high of getting away swindles your intentions of only getting a reading done, the mould of a rose-quartz cat, curled peacefully in sleep is craddled in your hand, never let go until you're at the till, clearing your throat for the clerk.

In their late teens, the midnight-haired clerk manages the entire interaction without a single look your way, sighing heavily when interrupted through her Kerrang! magazine flip-through. When everything's said and done, a similar feeing to pulling teeth gnaws as you ask for where the readings are done.

"Through the beads," she drawls, smacking her cherry bubblegum. She nodes behind her at the open doorway, behind the plexiglass countertop. 

Fortunately, the counterspace doesn't dominate the entire space, leaving leeway for you to amble past. Her figure remains unmoved, only triggered as her chipped nail polished-fingers drag across a picture of Kellin Quinn, a sigh full of dreams echoed.

Nostalgia shapes your expression, hands separating an opening through the assortment of crystals stringed from the doorway's top frame, cuts of aquamarine, angel aura quartz and rhondonite welcoming you into the space. Notes of lavender breeze past as you step further into the sacred four walls, incense wafting in the sunlight peeking through high windows. Lush rugs and blankets fold over a nearby couch and display shelves, occult trinkets sprinkled around in a personal touch immediately relaxing you. What looks like serves as a breakroom, positions itself for readings with a lone table in its middle, short candles lit with decks spread across the constellation tablecloth.

The reader, mid-shuffle, deserts her cards at your presence, piled onto the edge of her table as she stands, tugging her turquoise shawol over her shoulders.

"Good, another traveler ─ welcome, welcome," the lady in her early fourties gestures to the vacant seat opposite her, clearing her table of dust as her infinite rings clinck together. She wears wisdom on her face, the warmth of her smile luring you in as your legs settle despite inital nerves, "Make yourself at home."

Complying, you seat quietly in the space too cosy to be disturbed, briefly scanning the room before her bracelets sound again. 

"What kind of reading you looking for? I've lived long enough to give you options," she beams, rubbing her hands together. "Tarot spreads, astrology-based readings, face readings ─ whatever you're called to."

So, you pick. Called to the option you've never explored. "A face reading, please."

"You strike me more as the tarot type," she smirks, nifty hands shuffling her cat-themed deck like second nature. Which you suppose is embedded in her, her eyes never leaving yours as no card spills from the speedy movement, neatly packed away with a knock to the table. "Am I wrong?'

"Wait, let me guess ─" her eyes brim in elation, only cast aside inbrief ponder before a wrinkled index finger points your way. "Three of cups, that's your favourite card, right?"

The tattoo inked into your back heats at the chilling remark, an abrupt flush crawling up your neck as your figure seizes in fridigness. You're well aware to carry a healthy amount of suspicion going into this. Not giving away what the readers knows what you want to hear but with irrelevant your covered tattoo to the area of the reading, you can't help but blink. Wide-eyed and slowly, attempting a too-late cover-up when all the colour returns to your face.

"No need to be embarrassed. I've developed a talent for these things," she muses, pointed nails drumming into the table. "Certainly wouldn't make a living otherwise."

She chuckles, in a way that's reminscient of quiet Saturday afternoons on your aunty's back garden, swaying wherever the hammock took you as you sketched to the melodies of birds. She'd religiously keep her avain population feed through bulk-buys of the finest bird food, cracking piastachio nuts with her legs crossed as her eyes observed them, seeing the same freedom in their wings as she had, the only difference being when their bellies were full, they flocked away together while she remained alone. It's something you try not show on your face. 

"You have a lot of moles," she observes, her expression void of sentiment. "Very telling for the kind of life you live,"

"It seems a bit lonely, your familal life," she notes, a blink all you muster to her truth. "Things were almost never stable financially, which you took upon yourself to manage along with everything else you did alone,"

A vacant house, parents working to make ends meet with the throat-stifle to make better of your home amounts to this, your youth saving pennies not for Barbie dolls but contributions to a microwave that warmed food twice as long. Summer and part-time jobs spent wistfully looking out windows at people your age, tanned and smiling from their boat days while the only Sun you ever see is on your breaks. A social life forgone with your head buried in books, affording yourself scholarship-funded education that when it comes time to toss your cap, you give your gown and sash to your parents for photos, their teary-eyes coupled with your wobbled smile. 

"You're a smart and capable lady, destined to gain respect and nobility for those who see you for who you are. A lot of satisfaction awaits you," the reader's voice breaches your lazy mirage, watchful eyes grazing over your features. A knit sews her caramel eyebrows loosely, lines of her forehed speaking of the countless times she'd made the expression. "It's long overdue. A life spent living for others. You second guess your displays of affection because you think they don't suffice, but I see you. There's enough care given to loved ones that there's almost never the chance for them to think of paying the favour back,"

Aversion demands your eyes to direct elsewhere in the store ─ her Chinese lucky cat, arm waving to spread wealth and propserity, her snoozing black cat affectionately named Jiji on their back snoring to high heavens ─ anywhere to offload the impending feel of being seen. Plucked back through your onion-layers to the core where you lay.

"Some people depise that of you. Being so permanently in your lane and headstrong," you could roll your eyes, already pinpointing the association to Hajoon. "They may obstruct your path, but there's nothing that can come between destiny," 

Finally, a smile breaks out onto her face, chin in her palm. "There are others who adore you for those same traits and more. Have spent many moons counting their blessings your heart remains set on them."

A memory surfaces. A few, some flashes of late nights holding cherished friend's hands in yours as they recount their gratitude for your presence in their life, teary-eyed because you keep choosing them. Warmth blossoms in your chest, felt in the tips of your fingers interlocked in your lap. A memory lingers longer than the rest, three months exactly into seeing Jake where he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, slopes of his angular face bathed in moonlight while he looks at you like the stars above are in your eyes, saying:

"I want to continue choosing you," he speaks just above a whisper, not bothering with how bare he sounded. "If you'll let me."'

You gulp, hands running against the grain of your jeans. 

"It's not going anywhere soon, the high on your horizon," she relays, drumming gel nails against her clear quartz palm stone. "Blessings will come in, fast and plentiful ─ think Ace of Cups and Eight of Wands,"

"In all aspects of your life," you don't miss the emphasis in her voice. How could you with the wink she does? "This is very inspiring. And a rightful change. I'm happy for you."

And she genuinely means it, smile mirroring that of a long-time friend, melting the ice freezing your rigid shoulders. 

"Thank you. I really appreciate─" 

Your words evaporate with the chimes of crystals together, head turning to see Jake's polite, beaming face. Brightness gleams in his eyes, fondness curving the edge of his smile at you before it falls behind you, teeth bared in a hint of awkwardness.

"Hi, sorry for interrupting. The clerk said I could come in," his eyes track back to yours. "Should I come back later?"

"No, we actually just finished," softness blends in your limbs at his presence, an outstretched hand instantly in his as he squeezes yours before you get the chance. He has the gall to wink your way like you don't have an audience, playfulness rolling your eyes right to your audience. "Thanks again for the reading. It was really insightful."

For the first time since you'd come through those same crystals, the reader lacks words. Her expression washes over in a quiet stint of merriment, lips parting with a gaze very much directed over your shoulder. At Jake who's a good sport about being oogled, closed mouth grin present while his thumb ghosts over your knuckles. The rise of your eyebrow cues her back to reality, a flush engulfing the timid bunch of her cheeks, abruptly standing to gesture your way out despite it being the same one you walked through.

"Yes, yes, of course. Come again if you ever happen upon our town," the words rush out of her a mile a minute, courteous chuckles huffing out yours and Jake's mouths. "I'm sure you've got all you're looking for though."

The rushed comment isn't missed either, lip bitten to only spill in the confinements of the car. The same sentiment's shared by Jake who casts you a quick glance, catching his laughter in a fist.

"I'll just make my payment at the front, if that's okay."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Jake interjects, pushing the bend of his lips down. "I already paid." 

"Jake,"

"Give me an earful in the car," he jokes. "Better head out before it gets dark."

Well into the afternoon with the cabin still miles away, you lapse into agreement, brimming gratitude at the reader before you're following in Jake's footsteps out the doorway.

A call for your name turns your head, quiet enough for Jake's ears not to catch on as the crystal curtains close behind his figure, leaving you in the quiet hum of the reader's room, vibrational music nothing but a faint buzz. 

She scurries over to you with alert eyes, stealing a look through her crystal curtains before her gaze centers back.

"I don't usually feel compelled to say these things. Especially since I can acknowledge such matters have the chance of making patrons…uncomfortable,"

You're bracing yourself to whatever may come from her mouth, something to be taken or pushed aside, curiousity getting the better of you as you lean into her hushed words. 

"He was what I was talking about ─ satisfaction," she stresses, fingers pinched together. "He will make you very happy, as I'm sure you already know,"

"But," her eyes avert again, like you imagine yours did during the reading. She fiddles with the rings on her weathered fingers, metal circled around loose skin in an attempt to self-soothe. "There are other areas he will satisfy you," 

"He─his appetite," she says like she can't believe the words on her tongue. "Knows no end. His greed will take you places your mind cannot begin to conceptualize."

Your stance goes rigid, a silent part of suprise in your lips. 

"I'm sorry, what?" you squint your eyes as if it'll help you hear better. "Are you…are you talking about─"

"Yes," she admits, colour rushing to her cheeks. "There are many things a face can encapsulate; we are mere pages in the book of our past, present and future. Values, destiny and personality ─ we wear our life's story on our face."

Your hands come up to drag against your cheeks, trying a grasp at comprehension.

"And his is a high sex drive…?" you utter the words slowly, unsure where the heartfelt sentiment's gone.

"He is insatible. Plays his part as doting, sweet boyfriend because those are qualities he truly posses," her throat bobs, eyes cut to the front door in a wild flare. "But he brings other qualities when called to, when the timing is right. Things that will bring forth the kind of chemistry equal to a house on fire." 

Her hands brace against your tensed shoulders, bracelets jangling with the seriousness she laser-beams into your eyes. "Please darling, load up on electrolytes," her blinks come hard and fast, replicated in the rhythm of her breath. "Stretch and just pray you'll make it out alive." 

Ill-manners aren't part of your social palette, real expressions hidden by the jaded niceness society peers at you through. But in the feverish and apparently delirious rant the reader has forced onto your shoulders, they tremble with the building laughter buzzing through your chest, muffled by pressed lips not really doing their part. Evident in the surprise unfolding her scrunched expression, hand coming over your mouth to wish the laughter away as you get out a quick, "Noted. Thank you again." 

It doesn't come from a bad place, but when you're back outside, trekking back to the car some guilt exists with the tremble in your chest, putting a plug in it by drumming a palm to your torso. 

"Everything good?" Jake asks once you're back in the car, strapping himself in. "Reading went okay?"

Where do you even begin? It did go great until he showed up and apparently rocked the reader's world, who then expressed how much he would rock your world. Agreed, Jake does a good job in the bedroom but the concept of him being an insatible beast when called upon? While plausible, the circumstances surrounding its revelation push snickers out your nose.

"Yeah, a lot of fortune's on its way. Finally," you strap yourself in too, cracking your knuckles to mask your giggles. "Lots of uhm, satisfaction too."

It's a loaded end to your answer, one you communicate in a bitten back smile Jake goes on to replicate, letting out the bit of amusement he tucked away back in the store. 

"Happy to hear that, baby," he laughs, fist over his lips, licking them over when his hands extend to the steering wheel. "You deserve good fortune coming your way," 

He kisses your cheek over the console, the press sweet and delicate. A reality where it's bruising and lust-driven flashes briefly. 

Hovering close to you, his voice dips in volume, eyes peered up at yours with a teasing glint. "Could've told you that for free though."

"I thought it was gonna be insighful!" you shove his shoulders, mellow laughter filling the vehicle. "It was but─" 

"Just joking, pretty. I'm sure you got what you needed from the reading," sincerity shines in his eyes, accented by the peppered kisses he does against your cheek, the last one on your temple. "Let's get going, yeah?"

Your agreement blends in with you turning on the car radio, reconnecting to the aux where Geese's '3D Country' thumps through its bass intro, engine roaring to life as you get back on the road, leaving the minute rest-stop and tarot shop in the dust. You're meant to carry what resonates through her reading and that you do, the miserable grey anxiety cloud in your chest clearing knowing your hardwork will be rewarded. Knowing that the love you put into the universe will find itself back to you. Not because in the end, you wished to serve yourself, but because you always hoped the goodness you met others with could pour into others' lives too. 

But something else lingers. The grip she had on your shoulders, the look on her face when Jake joined you two, her remark about electrolytes. Priding yourself on being an open person, you welcome her perception of Jake through an impartial lens ─ there's only so much sex to have since you two started dating, a precaution exercised courtesy of your therapist. Exhausted by empty hookups and abrupt endings lacking promise, she challenged you to find human connection elsewhere. Be as vulnerable as you could because dating was somehow more horrifying than being naked in front of a stranger. At least then, you spoon-fed them bits of yourself ─ all in self-interest ─ and when they ultimately left, because they got what they wanted, they didn't take your heart with them. You'd never given it to them in the first place. Dating, however, if you were after what your heart desired, entailed an honesty you had to sit with. A partner who you could really be yourself with ─ all the neat and messy bits you've perfected hiding behind a pretty bow ─ and through trials and tribulations, tug of wars due to your attachment style, you found your Jake. Someone you could be yourself with, and someone who you know reflects that back to you. No charades, no secrets, just sincerity that's maybe charmed you into rose-tinted lenses. 

Then again, she did say it was a matter of calling it 'upon him.' 

Time would tell, eventually.

That time comes sooner than expected. 

Tucked away in the mountains breathing crisp air, is the luxury cabin Jake so kindly splurged on for your weekend getaway. Upon seeing your scandalised face, the cedar and oak structure built with love and wealth in the addition of a hot tub, he ducks his head, sheepish in his grin as he says, "Guess I caught that deal on a good day." 

Like the gentleman he is, he deals with all your luggage as you climb the steep-rocked driveway, head on a swivel as the mountains stretch on for miles. With spring creeping in, the moutain peaks have lost their snow blanket, sprinkled in scarce flakes that still have your breath visible before you. You inhale, letting the clear air fill your lungs then exhale, the city left behind a distant memory as Jake opens the cabin's front doors.

It's every bit of lush as its' exterior, hanging warm lights and wooden halls seemingly going on forever. It earns Jake a sidelong glance, a guilt-free shrug his answer before he catches you in his arm, pulling you close in a kiss on top of your head. 

"It's ours for the weekend," he whispers, hazelnut and oak notes wafting in his presence. "Let's play house."

So, you do. Once all luggage's been put in the bedroom, suitcase left open for easy access, you tread through the halls with heated floors, into the kitchen where Jake makes a start on the store-bought tortellini. Side by side, you make the sauce, joking bumps of the hip dished between each other as your blended playlist hums in the background, serenading the sweet plate Jake's face lights up at once he's tasted the food. He commends your skills even when you have none, yet you smile. Because there's always a genuineness about him, a happiness built on something stable you allow yourself to fall back into, only proven by your suggestion to crack open a bottle of wine in the hot tub. 

"Is that a new swimsuit?"

Lowering into the buzzing water, you chance a glance at Jake, a blank canvas if not for the evident bob his Adam's apple does, his spread fingers threading through the current.

"A new bikini, yes," you settle opposite him, reaching for and sipping on white wine without a break in eye-contact. "Like it?"

He's the first to break, giving you his sharp side-profile with a smile that's all knowing. The chestnut waves of his hair frame his face perfectly, falling like curtains around his eyes as they gravitate back to yours.

"Yeah, I do. A lot." 

Your time is spent like this, toeing the line of flirtation and dare, enough physical space spared if not for the stifling conversation, nothingness spoken of to the build-up of whatever festers underneath the surface.

The thought had crossed your mind over dinner ─ when Jake's none the wiser, happily humming with pasta sauce dipped into his lip corner ─ the reader's words and her conviction. However cagey you may have been, Jake's always been respectful of your boundaries, never pushing when he knows the walls will fall when ready, a pattern of forthcomingness observed in the little time you've had. Yet, with a work schedule meant to kick your ass and social obligations shifting him to second priority, not much time is spared. Not enough to talk, not enough to explore…whatever things Jake supposedly brings to the table.

With the nagging prickle in mind, the night's event unfold into destiny. When your fingers have pruned, three glasses of wine polished off, you dry off to slip into one of his shirts and a pair of underwear plenty purposeful. An agenda noticed in Jake's expression as he enters back into the bedroom, patting down his face.

He doesn't make any comment, only laughs to himself before he resumes his bedtime ritual, coming back to you eventually as a starfish on the bed, your Kindle long forgotten.

His chin perches onto the arms folded onto your stomach, peering through his brows. "Feel relaxed?" 

Automatically, your fingers find their way into his hair, teasing the soft strands with your fingertips. "Yeah. The wine helped."

He smiles, a brief hide of his face to conceal his mirth. "I don't know how you drink that stuff."

"You had just as much as I did!" 

"I only started to enjoy it like, halfway through the second glass," he concedes, feigned exasperation coming out you in a sigh. "Definitely needed that energy drink as a palette cleanser." 

Ah, yes. The one with electrolytes, one he'd bought for you too. The irony is not lost on you. 

"We'll get more in town tomorrow," your eyes drift to the alarm clock on the bedside table, time incorrect but the late hour evident. "What you got planned?"

He tosses his head to simulate careful pondering, bottom lip jutted under his finger. "Lots of pampering and shopping ─ only the best for my girl,"

The bunch of your cheeks turns your head sideways, body restless beneath his to a point of his body moving off yours. It doesn't take a second of contemplation, positions switching to your thighs straddling his hips, his hand fanned across your lower back as you stare down at him, watching him become more pupils than eyes. 

"Anything else?"

The invitation hangs in the air, gulped down by Jake who scoffs softly, putting a hand behind his head with veins lining his arm. The loss of your gaze when circled back to him makes his lip corner lift, horribly smug. 

"I've got a few ideas," he husks, his hips shifting beneath you, something other than bone brushed against your ass. 

"Budge up," he coaxes, you immediately complying. "More,"

You laugh, hands braced at your sides. "Jake, I'm halfway up your chest. Not sure that's an optimal for kissing."

"Who said anything about kissing?" 

He says it easily, like it doesn't make every fragment of your spine click into place. Besides the brief stiffen of your muscles, your brain starts working again to brace hands against his chest, wandering. 

"You're trouble."

"Yeah? That what you think I am?" his hands, veined and cold relief against your thigh, graze in what's meant to be absent nature. You can't help but suspect purpsefulness on his own end when he kneads the flesh the closer they inch to your ass. "Did she tell you that?"

A missed heartbeat marks the blaring silence permeating his statement, splayed hands hinged on his shoulders wrestling with the material of his shirt as you rack your brain. Thinking if you should mention it. 

"You could be her disciple," the joke doesn't really land like you want it, tasting more bitter on your tongue. "Yes, she did."

His hand cease agaisnt your thighs, kickstarting contemplation of whether you've spoken too much. 

"So that's what that was about," he smirks, hand over his eyes like he's been caught. The stretch of his lips does little to dissipate your 'healthy skepticism.' "It's like the energy shifted when I came in."

"It kind of did," laughter puffs out, a bit breathless on your end. His hands fall back to your hips, feeling yours shift for comfort. "She got a good look at you and I walked out with a 2-for-1 deal,"

His head cocks to the side, curious. "What'd she say?"

Amusement breaks out onto your face, bitten back. 

"She made some hints at you holding yourself ─ poor choices of words," you backpedal, sorting through your vocab of empathy. "She said something along the lines of, if maybe I breached the topic with you, things could be different…"

"In terms of?" he prompts, asking for clarity.

But there's a curve to his lip, a shit-eating grin held back. You're starting to have more faith in all the reader's words.

"Sex," you couldn't say the word any softer, comfortable being sexually open amongst friends but in the quiet of the mountains, with nothing but Jake beneath you, you cower into your skin. "She said you could be different."

"Hungry?"

"Insatible is the word she used, but I'm pretty sure she said hungry too," a form of reluctance pushes air out your chest, hand raised to scratch the flush building on your neck. "I, of course with every reading I get, took that with a pinch of salt because I mean, it all happened so fast and sometimes readings can be influenced by other factors like─"

"She's not wrong."

A pin could drop. It could hit the heated-hardwood floors and sound like a crashing boulder, an avalanche descending from the mountain's peak with no end in sight. 

Perhaps you shouldn't be so taken aback. It's not like Jake knows everything about you six months into knowing you ─ he may know about how you like your eggs cooked and how you failed your driver's test three times before getting your license. He didn't know about the complications weaving your parental relationship and he certainly didn't know you had a spit kink. Could've guessed it, but it was never an admission on your part. Not everyone in your life - even those close to you - needed to know every part of your soul and in a relationship, things would reveal themselves in time. He didn't need to know everything to love bomb or use against you. He would never, but the cynism of your heart is hard to beat. 

You don't speak. Your mouth refuses to croak out, "What do you mean?" 

So, you simply watch him with a smile that's more anticipatory-curiousity with ears waiting on his next words.

"I mean, it's normal to not show all your cards at once, right?" What's meant to be a remark laced with slivered awkwardness, apparent in the gnaw he embeds into his bottom lip, also comes with the permanent fixture of a smirk. He can't hold his enjoyment back, that much is apparent to you.

"I'm sure you haven't told me everything you're into," his fingertip traces against your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "What makes you shake."

His eyes flutter up to yours, the mirth-advantage of the situation gone with the wind whistling past the bedroom french doors. He only has you in his sights, the heat rising from him edging you into dizziness. 

"It never was a matter of secrecy," he makes known, possessive with his grip on your hip. You buck into his touch. "Gauging what you're comfortable with and knowing what you can take has always been a priority to me."

Tingles run like critters all over you, a twitch of the hand given before your grip solidifies against his shoulder, finger slid beneath the collar of his shirt. Your skin sizzles pressed against his. 

"But if you wanna push and try something new, who am I to get in the way?"

There's something undeniably sexy about how he commands the situation, gentle with the patience of a saint, tenderness in his guidance towards what you realise you've been too scared to voice. 

"Do you want to?" he asks, head ducked to meet your hung head. "See how far you can go?"

Apprenhension will always be there, bubbling in the pits of your stomach with the accompanying voice at the back of head posing more questions than answers. But you know, you've known for a long time there wasn't anything scary if Jake was beside you. The sail to your boat, the roots to your tree, your branches free to grow how ever sky high you desired.

You only had one answer, smiles to your faces as your fingers thread together, a squeeze against yours for good measure. 

"Now budge up," his cheeks take on a rosy tint, satisfaction in his grin. "It's time to put my mouth to better use." 

Your body runs like a motorboat's engine, feather-light brushes tickling your chest as your legs operate on auto-pilot, wild eyes peering down on Jake's. Cinnamon brown are their hue, decked in a sweetness sharp enough to gulp down the cotton ball lodged your throat, breath wethered as his hands hover hollowly on your hips, making sure you're in place. 

It's only then, when your clammy hands grapple onto the elegant carve of the wooden headboard, that you remember. 

"My underwear," 

You go to take them off, only for your hand to be eclipsed by Jake's, a hot brand against your skin.

"Don't," he gruffs out, eyes lingering on your core for longer than what's polite, a slow drawl to your eyes, his pupils fully blown. "Keep them on." 

The lacy lilac crotchless thong, 'not' purposely packed for this trip, remains on, pushed further apart with his finger and the bite of your lip, eyes fluttering closed as you wish for yourself not to buckle. Despite his wishes, the idea of perching all your weight on him remains a legalty you'd rather not take chances with, knees embedded into the mattress all the support you give yourself for a polite hover.

His lips press against your inner thigh, possessive and hefty, contact slowly unwinding the tension-hike your shoulders have done to your earlobes, muffled moans in your mouth as he takes his sweet time with niceities. Small and measured kisses against skin you wished he'd gloss over, the press of his lips along your pelvis bone shuddering a broken breath out of you, desperate hands anchoring for the stability you're quickly losing. Cognition starts to haze over the lazy clouds populating your brain, thoughts only sharp enough to register the anticipation racing through you, the high-strung bundle of knots in your stomach dangling above a bottomless pit. 

"Baby," he calls, voice thick and strained. "You're so fucking wet, I don't know what to do with myself."

Your personality is hard-wired enough for a retort. "Eat me out then." 

He huffs, singular and devastating to the strength you've been summoning in the warmth of your bedroom, warm air puffing against your core to make you groan. His own one follows right after as his arms abruptly bring your hips forward, a yelp short-lived as his lips brush against your glistening folds, a whimper verberating through your own lips clamped together for the sake of your dignity. 

"That's the last I hear out of you besides my name." he promises, stern before he dives in. 

He steals your breath with you, air pushed out your weak lungs as he tastes every crevice of you, from your slicked entrance begging for an inch of him to the top of your clit, suckling on the bundle of nerves. Nails are introduced to the headboards' craftmanship, scratched at in long draw marks that should spell out alarm, if not for the sheer bliss conjured between your legs. Jake is purposeful with every thing he does, groaning into you like it pains him for you to taste so sweet, licking up all the facet-run slick pouring from you, further echoed by your thighs until it's all you hear. Your moans and his mouth, working with gradual abandonment, hands pressing into your skin to make you melt.

"Always taste so good for me, pretty," he murmurs against you, a moment not on you a moment wasted. "Can't get enough of how you shake,"

His moan vibrates against your folds, your knee slipping beneath you to lower further onto him, ass grazing the stubble you've been actively avoiding with the cross of your legs, a high keen out your throat as he sucks on your clit. 

"Jake," you whine, your head swarming with enough lust to weighh heavy on your shoulders. "Fuck, don't stop."

"Baby, I'll be here for hours," he resplies back, prying your mouth open with a soundless gasp. "Nothing's getting between me and this pretty pussy right here."

Your body curls in on itself, willing the building pleasure in your stomach to cease, senses running wild to a point where all your mind can pinpoint is the man between your thighs, eating you out like it's his last meal. Esctacy is no stranger to the time spent on your back, Jake plucking all the right chords to have you seeing stars but this feels different. He has his mouth on you like a man long deprived, securing his arms around your thighs with non-existent space, holding you down as if his last tether to Earth. It shatters you from the inside-out, blowing any far-gone perception of pleasure out the window, attaching yourself to here and now as he moans around your clit, sloppy with his tongue drags as you drip down his chin. 

"You dripping all over me, baby," he has the gull to chuckle into you, tracing his tongue around your entrance in the aftermath of the warmth breath blown against you, your sanity dwindling in alarming amounts. "Tell me how good you feel. Tell me who gets you wetter than this."

"So good," you can't help but mewl, one hand slithering down to him, fingers carding through his hair for a tug. "It's only you, only you." 

"Sound so good when you're desperate for me," he sucks hard on your clit just to hear you break, walls squeezed impossibly tight. "Go on, grind on me. Take what you can get." 

It should make you feel small, stringed to his words like a puppet but if they align with your buried wants, who are you to say no? So, you comply, staple both hands against the headboard and grind, tentatively at first when he's allowed your thighs more space. Then, he sets the tone, pushing you a force that has your clit knocking into his nose, lace fabric dragged along to make you putty in his hands.

"There you go," Jake grins against you, a hopleess moan escaping you as he gives you a few more helpful nudges, your voice crying out at more pleasure. "Didn't you say you loved my nose? Put it to good use then."

You could cry, you're willing yourself not to, teeth so far into your bottom lip the marks may never leave. You're melting like ice-cream on the hot plain of Jake's skin, your hips sheepish but gaining momentum, humping yourself against his face as he smothers himself between your thighs. 

Breaths cycle through you, deep and slow then short and fast, voice edged to the end of the Earth where you feel yourself inching dangerously close to, the sole mission of getting yourself off diminshing any decorum you so stupidly clung to. Hips moving back and forth, the structure of estasy so expansive in you, your body feels like it'll collapse with it. 

In the haze of your motions, you chance a look down at Jake, finding his eyes rolling back with the look of eroticism mapped all over his flushed face, eyebrows knitting together as he laps up all the slick you can't seem to stop. The image, forever imprinted in your mind, brings you impossibly close, croaking a tortored whine high up to the sky, hips moving with enough force to make the bed creak while you chase your release. 

"You're close," he pants, sparing himself a breath before tasting you on his tongue. "That's it, baby. Let go for me. Let go for Jake."

A scream unknown to you unleashes, ripped right out your chest and vibrating off the walls soaked in your moans, your body collasping in a series of long, stationary shivers. All your weight is now on Jake as your mouth dries, forehead banged against the headboard. You're too lightheaded to feel its impact, body overtaken by the sensations raving your body from the depths of its core, shaken with no way out but through.

An unknown amount of time passes, the furtherest thing from what's meant to be your mind, rattled beyond rational thought. The only thing grounding you is the the eventual slow of your breath, decelerating to normalcy as you start to feel human again. Jake is…still persistent, gradual this time but making sure he has every drop of you, your taste embedded to his tongue before you summon enough energy to lift your leg over him, body falling limp into a fetal position before you tip over onto your back. 

"Was it good, sweet girl?" Despite your muffled hearing, you can hear the smugness drenched in his tone, a secondary observation of the bed shifting under his moving weight. "Got what you were hoping for?"

To completely rewrite the concept of a good orgasm was not what you were hoping for, but Jake knows that win belongs to him, chuckling to himself in a dark hum licking want up your spine. You think your body is yet to recover, but signs point out an otherwise. 

Breathing is what you dedicate your attentin to, body horribly feverish as your brain attempt to grapple with the overcast of your thoughts, fog dense from that. Somewhere in your daze, your body moves free of your own doing, handled with great care as Jake displays you for his viewing pleasure, an abrupt hold in your plea for oxygen as something hot slides against your cunt.

A feathered hiss shoots through bared teeth, haze blinked back through thick lashes as your view centers back to Jake. His briefs are pulled down enough for him to free his cock, tip large and flushed as it beads precome against your underwear. Yours and his clothing isn't even all the way off, the crop of his t-shirt revealing the definition of his v-line, pelvis marked by veins and a trimmed trail to what he grinds against you, underwear slick-stuck to you as he lets out a starved grunt. 

"Fuck," he falls forward, arms bracketing your body as his eyes flicker down to where you meet, filthy and desperate. "This what you wanted? Me so gone for you, I'll take you anyway I can?" 

"Jake," you moan, shiver wracked up your spine as his tip nudges against your clit, brief friction scrambling words in your brain. "Off. Take them off."

"What's the point when I can get you needy like this?" his chuckle comes out breathy, eyes finding yours. "You're so wrecked. I haven't even put it in yet."

"Put it in then," you strain, frustation bucking your body, a notch to the clit bowing your body off the mattress. "Please,"

"Feels good, hm baby?" His smirk is full of triumph, not an ounce of sympathy for the poor body beneath him, clawing at any inch of him. "You could come from this, I could too. Paint your pretty thong before I fill you up,"

Your walls cave in, clenching around nothing but slick as it pushes back onto Jake's cock that has a better glide, a keen at the height of your throat while arms overlap your eyes, condemned to darkness. 

"Did you just get wetter?" incredulous are how his words come, a harder grind into you coming with the echo of your entrance, undeniably lined in slick. "Pretty, if you wanted me to come in you, all you had to do is ask."

Timidty flames your cheeks, claws of desires scraping at your chest to be released. "I─fuck, I want─"

"Say the word and they're off." are his last words, the decision yours to make. 

One that doesn't take much contemplation. 

"Please," the request comes, sounding just as desperate as your ears hate to hear. "Take them off. Come in me…please."

"I'll do right by you, pretty," he reminds you, fingers already hooked underneath their band. "Won't have to worry your head about anything. Just lay back and look pretty like you always do," 

"And when I'm done with you, you'll have everything you ever wanted." 

He pushes in. Anticipated to a point where your entrance closes in on his tip immediately, a whine let out to push back against the rush at bay before you open up for him again, the glide smooth and uninterrupted as he buries himself to the hilt. Full doesn't begin to scratch the surface of how you feel, lungs pushed up to your struggling throat as your nails sink into the duvet, scratching into fabric as his tip rests against the spongy spot that has you squirming, body shying away from the sensery overload only for a smack to bounce off the cabin walls. 

Your body jolts with it, a dull tingle searing through your clit marked by the palm of his hand, a croak coming out your throat, dying with a whine that shows you for what you are. 

"You liked it," he has to say, more surprised than smug. "You clenched around me─fuck, you're so tight."

His teeth bury into his bottom lip, in no way deterred as his hand stables itself on your knee, spreading your legs wider. 

"Look at how much I'm learning about you," his voice carries air backed by a condescending nature, his ego only affirmed as you moan to his building thrusts. "At the end of this, I might know your body better than you do," 

You keen again, sinking deeper into the molasses of pleasure he engulfs you, practiced precision of what you like most as he dedicates every thrust to that one spot, eyebrows scrunched to the building pit of your stomach. 

"Just tell me what you like, pretty," he sings like a siren in your ear, hand cupped over your cheek to graze a thumb over a stray tear, licking his thumbpad clean before his hand falls back to your knee. "And I'll make it worth your while." 

"Fuck me," comes out rough in your pressed voice, hand directing his to your clit. "Harder."

Seemingly impressed, he only grins with a dipped head, his last words being, "Yes, Ma'am."

It's all moans and wet squelches from then onwards, gratitude set aside for no nearby neighbours as Jake puts you through the mattress, hitting the deepest parts of you that have you singing his praisies, the only competiting sounds being the ongoing flood of slick where you meet and the creaks of the bed. The auditory input spins your head around, whines endless out of your mouth as harsh smacks of skin drum against your ears, the bundle of pleasure in your belly constantly hit with the wrath of Jake's pistons. He's taken it upon himself to comb over everything you've loved in bed, sparing every heightened sob and moan special attention as he deals you his hand, rubbing lazy circles on your clit before the smacks come. They build in intensity, low-level hip-buckles extending to full-body convulsions, letting the tears flow as the pain marries so sweet with the low-pain.

"Seems like my pillow princess likes a bit of pain," he observes, devastatingly handsome when he's cocky. He pushes hair out his face as his fingers run over the dulled simmer of your clit, your lips in a pout. "Does its' job considering how much you're clenching around me," 

"What? Can't speak?" he questions, purposely leaning in to get himself deeper, a shift amounting to the wobbly sobs you hum. "Fucked too good? Want me deeper, sweetheart?"

You're mindllessly nodding, moisture grouping your lashes together as you can only accept the fate of going after your orgasm, using all means to bring it into reality. 

"You're cute when you can't speak," he muses, hiking your legs onto his shoulder one after the other. "Gotta keep your mouth filled, know how much you love that."

His degradation does something to your brain chemistry, his cock inching into places you have no words for, slick splashing back onto his cock as he pistons further, lodging himself further into you as he leans forward with his weight. Now reaching parts of you untouched, you're at a loss for your mind and what to do, arms enveloping the muscles of his back as your nails drag against the expanse. 

"Might have a thing for pain too," he chuckles, biting down on his lip, a wild look in his red-rimmed eyes as his world boils to only you. "Love when you mark my back, love. Lets me know how good I've got you,"

Thighs braced against you, he hits deeper than you can keep up with, mouth ajar as it serves as a vessel for missed breaths. Your tongue runs dry, lips smacked in a half-hearted attempt but it doesn't land right. You need more. You know you need more but the mere thought scrunches your face, esctasy blooming behind closed eyes.

"What you need, bunny?" Jake's voice is jaw-droppingly sweet, a kiss pressed above the corner of your lip. "My mouth?"

"Spit," it comes out with a whimper, eyes squinting as you will your wish into existence. "In my mouth. Now."

His thrusts only misses a beat, a shaky breath echoing after your words before he plunges deeper, taking your voice with you. 

"You're dirty, you know that?" he muses, brows knitted like it kills him to experience such gratification. "My come isn't enough for you? Want every bit of me, huh?"

Your brain is elsewhere, a distant theory for whatever's melted between your ears, a nod coming from within you. "Want it, want it bad, Jake." 

"Where's your manners, sweetheart?" he coos, laughing when you're flailing against him, thrashing around like the spoiled princess you are. "You're usually so polite for me. What happened?"

"Jake," your hand finds his jaw, finding the strength to wire him to you. "Spit. Now,"

"No." he laughs. "I'm not doing it until you beg."

An attempt is made to pry his jaw open, but to no avail, his playful headshakes meant to haunt you long after this is over.

Whenever that is.

"Jake, I need it─I," shame floods your being, not stopping the request. "Please. Just once, I only need it once, pretty please?"

His hips topple over their rhythm, stuttered against the flesh of your thighs as restraint crumples his face, a pleading breath sent to the ceiling before he locks eyes with you again. 

"Do you know how pretty you sound begging for me? Shit," he curses, swatting your hand away to mirror the same gesture on yours, jaw dropped with your tongue laid out. "Here you go, since your filth comes with manners," 

The spit lands square on your tongue, a mewl so dirty from you there's no coming back, your walls closing around Jake's cock like a vice as you taste him ─ spearmint with a hint of that energy drink ─ and swallow, humming all the way down. 

"Holy shit," his voice tremours with wonder, swiping the hair out your face so you have a good look at him when he says, "Get on your knees. Right now."

The euphoric mist clouding over from his spit still remains, crumpling your expression with confusion, quickly switching to surprise as Jake hauls himself off you. He pulls you along for the ride as he manhandles you into position, your body now facing the french doors of your bedroom, the wilderness all your hazy eyes see. Horror creeps up on you, your bodies in plain view in the bedroom lowlights, watching your mouth fall ajar as Jake pushes in from behind, your toes curling as he fills you.

He thrusts like he never stopped, the fast tempo making skin slaps ring in your ears, your arms moving in a slow buckle as you struggle to hold yourself upright.

It takes a miracle to movenur your arm behind you, tapping Jake's arm. "Jake,"

Your head motions to the french doors, which leave nothing to the imagination ─ your lewd actions on full display for anyone's viewing pleasure. 

"The curtains," aren't drawn, you want to say, but can't choking on a moan when Jake hits deepest in you. "P-people will see," 

"They've been open this whole time. Let them," he gruffs, firming his grip on your hips. "Don't want them to know how dirty you are? How good you are at taking at cock?"

In the reflection, you lay witness to him lower down to your back, thrusting into you with no end in sight as he whispers in your ear. "It's too late, baby. We both know your dirty secret. Just be good and take it." 

Your arms give in, hopeless against constructs you're trying to hold yourself to when Jake's given nothing but freedom to be you. In all the ways you've shyed away from, collasping under the brute force of everything coming at you ─ the shame, the pleasure, the hopeleness, the satisfaction ─ it all hits you at once, releasing the cry deeply buried of his name as you come. 

All the cells in your body simultaneously shatter and become whole again, drifting into another realm you don't bother acknowledging, centered on the full-blown euphoria blown past your eyes, raving you whole. You cry into your arms, voice having no limits with your nonsensical babble while you try coming down from your orgasm, Jake having enough sympathy to fuck you slow until you're back together again, hunched over in a near hysterical state. 

Since when were things like this? Since when did the man who brought you bliss bring you this close to deconstruction?

It'd have to be an afterthought as Jake's palm soothes down your bent spine, heel pressing in to exaggerate your arch before he kneads the flesh of your ass, getting off on the constant whines at the mere hover of his fingers.

"You with me, baby?" tongue in cheek, he questions, still sliding in and out of it, slick dribbling down to the duvet cover. "You did so good coming for me. Ready for another?"

Your head snaps to his, mildly offended. "Another one?"

He giggles, sporting a boyish grin. "Insatible, right?" your eyes roll on on their own, head burying into your arms. "I'm just owning up to it now," 

"Besides," he starts, his hips jumpstarting to as he makes deliberate knocks into you, deep and forceful, moving you up on the bed. "Weren't you the one begging to be filled?" 

"Let me grant your wish, baby," he coos, addiction laced in his voice, his hand smoothing over the curve of your ass and hip. "Let me fill you."

You agree, because there's no end to your need too.

He gets back to it. Thrusting without abandonment, fingertips indenting into your hips as he fucks the cries out of you, expression so bliss-blown in the reflection, the building pressure in your stomach starting again.

You've got enough energy in you to prop yourself up again, helped by Jake who moments before, held your hands behind your back to pound into you. The stretch pulls your searing cheeks as your teeth bare, plucked apart by your low-hanging jaw. He coos, with all the condescending nature he's masked, making his way into your ear. 

"Pity I can't fill your mouth like this," he muses, his hand over the column of your throat, applying pressure that translates to the squeeze of your walls. "I'm only one man ─ I can't keep all your holes occupied," 

You groan against his hand, high keens your trademark as he plows into you without interruption. Then, you witness brillance spark across his face, the hand he had on your hip vacating to pull you closer, his tip blunting against your sweet spot to the release of your sobs. In the time you arch for a loud-mouthed cry, it's abruptly cut-off by lace material filling your mouth.

Disbelief floods you, your reflection evident as what projects to you is something you couldn't bring yourself to wrap your head around. 

Your excuse of a thong stuffed square in your mouth, all the while Jake pounds into you, the picture of amusement.

"There you go," he smiles like he's struck gold, giving the courtesy of departing from your throat to have two hands on your hips. "All full now." 

Disgrace tries to involve itself in the humid air starting to fog against the doors, no room to go when you're moaning into the material, the taste of him and you on your tongue, twisting your insides in the shape of a tangled web. How you don't buckle escapes you, so fixated on watching Jake behind you, enamoured by the deep bow of your spine that your eyes simply cannot pry. 

Incessant attention eventually pulls him away from his view, making eye-contact with a commitment for not breaking it. His hands anchor down your hips as he drills further into you, pounding with a force engulfing all your sobs and moans into your thong, expression permnanently creased.

"Have no idea how beautiful you look, baby," he groans, met with a whimper. "God, I'm gonna fucking come if you keep─"

You clench around, feeling that familar pressure tick to single digits, holding onto the duvet cover for dear life while you can do is brace for impact.

"I'm close too, pretty," Jake sympathisizes, face expression pulled, eyes never leaving yours. "You gonna come like a good girl? Gonna watch us come?" 

The response is caught in your cotton-mouth, eyes forced shut as your body takes over, deliriously nodding along as you fall back onto folded arms, willing your orgasm to swallow you whole.

"Come on, princess. Eyes on us."

Motivated by nothing but his voice, your head manages the lift to a vision permanely burned into your corneas. Jake pistioning into you, curls messy and untamaed, glowing in soft bedroom light bouncing off the deep arch of your back, senses pushed into overload as the image sends you off the edge.

White streaks across your vision, a lapse in everything known to you as you cry out, loud and long, claws sunk into the duvet for salvation. The dam breaks, the yell for mercy wreched out your throat ending with pressed gasps, mouth run dry as you coat Jake's cock, force splashing back against his abdomen and your thighs, shivering as his voice breaks through the echo chamber. 

"Oh baby, you're made for me," he drawls, on his last legs as his thrusts turn erratic, high on you and your release. "So perfect, I'm gonna give you what you want. I'm gonna─hmph!"

In one last meet, you hinge desperately onto the edge of the bed, hoarse voice on its last legs as you twine into your limbs, feeling the rush of Jake fill you with an inch of your life. Your walls flutter to keep him there as his hips glue to you, figure toppling overs yours as his arms bracket your quivering torso, vision black with eyes closed to focus back on your breath, ragged and spent.

Sweat and sex lingers in the air, a sense you only access when you've gathered a small percentage of working brain cells, blinking back to reality. Your whimper bleeds into the thong as Jake gradually starts to pull out, cunt closing behind him as he leaves, a slow dribble trailed out your entrance, down to the duvet and along your cunt.

After a few moments, your body manages to lift its head, your stuffed mouth and stray hair all you see. Salvaging the last of your dignity, you pull the thong out, drenched in saliva tossed aside to smooth your hair back, slumping back in a dramatic flop.

Chuckles sound behind you, casting your eyes sideways. 

"Come sit, baby," he purrs, a tender smack bruised against your ass. You buck, groaning as your body starts to prop itself up, come trailing steadfast to your entrance. "On my lap."

Your hand hovers it, a illogical attempt to keep him there.

"It's gonna leak." you croak. 

"Better keep you plugged then," you turn your head, your boyfriend leaned back with his palms against the bed, expression offering you some sympathy. "Come here." 

An exhale prompts your steady pace as you inch your way to Jake, shaking your head with an open smile as his half-hard cock glares in between his crossed legs. His lax posture gravitates to you, hands secured around your waist as assistance while you throw your thigh over his, one hand on his shoulder while the other splays over his length, molten stirring in you at his groan. Hovering over his tip beading precome, the come between your legs starts to halo around him, eyes locked where you feed his cock into yourself. 

"Nice and easy, that's it baby," he praises, watching with dark eyes. "There you go."

A wistful sigh breezes past your lips as he fills you again, legs circling his back when he's all in, the stretch knocking on overstimulation's door. It's dampened by your endless need to consume him, obssessed with the fullness of him as you dissolve into a sack of hungry bones, chin hooked over his shoulder, holding him close.

"You're crazy." you murmur.

His chesty chuckle vibrates into you, airy. "Only about you," 

Hands on your back, one moves to soothe across the expanse of your spine, a chaste kiss pressed into your shoulder. "You good? Comfy?"

You try find the words, your nails scraping into his skin. "Feels─hmph,"

"Good?" he supplies, an edge of teasing to his tone. "Feel full?"

"Yeah," you agree anyways, accepting your fate with the burial of your mouth into your arms, ease blown through your nose.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You can grind on me," the comment draws your attention, perking at the slow grind your hips have unknowingly started. "Just want you close. C'mere."

He captures you in a slow, passionate kiss, savoured by the slow motions of your lips gliding without hurry, simply enjoying the press of each other. Skin to skin, your arms looped around his shoulders with his hands braced against your ribcage as you grind. The friction to your clit pours moans into his mouth, his grip going tighter as he kneads into your skin, drunk off every inch of you as you lose yourself in his embrace, rocking to the sounds of you together. 

You stay like this for what bleeds into forever, intimacy and friction simmering from a spark to a raging fire, the pit in your stomach accompained by the helpless pry of your lips, his teeth pulling your bottom lip to make you shudder. 

Your hips build in a volatile nature, grinding with a hitch amplifying the mess between your legs of legs. The fill and presence of Jake radiates esctacy right down to your fingertips, harsh tugs of his hair rewarded with drawn out moans, his lips glossed as his lips follow yours with endless need. 

The burn in your thighs starts to dial back your pace, wounded whimper bypassing your lips. It's solved by an assured circle around your back, Jake's other hand wedging between your plastered bodies to find your clit, circling it in motions bringing you closer. 

"M' gonna come," he whimpers, lips brushing against yours. "Gonna come, baby?"

You yelp against him, the feeling too much. 

"Squeeze good around me and I'll give you another load," he coaxes, ruining you to microscopic pieces. "Come on, sweet girl. Make me proud."

Instead of an earth-shattering crash, comes a flood of relief. Bacing your hands woven into Jake's locks, you expel a pitched keen in your throat, blending into a deep exhale, body slumping with your come down. Still, your body demands to be closer. Closer to him until space ceases to exist, pressing yourself so firmly into Jake's that when your embrace threatens to tip you over, you're secured. Anchored in Jake's arms as he kisses you one last time, tasting the moan of your name on his tongue as he comes, spilling over with excess dipping down onto the soaked duvet, the material tomorrow's damage. 

"You're a bit of an airhead when you're like this," Jake comments later when you blink back the lazy film coating your eyes, your face pulled back to his view. He's enamored with a dazzling smile, thumb running over the moles around your lips. "Have I fucked all the sense out your pretty head?"

"Want a break?" he muses, cooing when you nod into his palm cupping your cheek. "Okay, princess. I'll help you." 

And he does, carrying your singing body back to the plush cloud of the mattress, muscles unwinding into its comfort. Your arm casts over your line of sight, a brief break from stimulation before you're restless enough to peek above the flesh, your boyfriend's sihoulette moving slowly, a lone pillow propped up beneath your feet.

Affection starts in your chest, flourishes in those silent moments where you co-exist in something so simple, your mind spared from all the games and noise coming with life. It prompts the outreach of your hand, the gentle call of his name bringing him to you at lightning speed, lips and bodies together again. 

You don't know how long time ticks on, but you know you spend it with him, every inch of your skin kissed by his lips, filled by him over and over again. Your brain doesn't bother keeping up with how many times you pour over the edge, your only source of attention the man before you, giving himself to you, choosing you each and every time. In the mix, tears spill from your eyes and he kisses them away, easing the heft in your chest before that telltale feeling washes over you, drowning you in endless bliss. 

Birds start to chirp when the dust settles, you starfished on the bed with a rising chest you force cycled-breaths through, exhaustion seeping deep into your bones, synched with the euphorica grin you only manage to pull with the last of your strength.

"Beautiful," you hear him say, distant on the edge of the bed. "You're so beautiful, love."

Then he comes into eyeline, crawling his way to you.

"You looked so fucking good coming all over my cock," he says, hair a mess ─ stuck to his forehead with a chest laboured enough to warrant rest. Yet, he continues, inching himself to straddle your chest with his half-hard cock nestling between your breasts, nudged to shake his body in a tremour. "Want you covered in my come. In you isn't enough."

He's a madman. You're a dating a madman because in what world is the end for him? Time is a mere concept to you, but you're sure you've been at this for hours. He's stretched you every way but loose, pumping an amount of come into you you're not sure birth control can intervene with, moaning his name over and over again. 

And he's hard. Again?

That reader was so fucking right about him. So right it hurts.

"You don't have to do anything," he assures you, cock coated with yours and his come sticking to the valley of your breasts, the snug fit providing him the relief he needs. "Just let me use you."

You're exhausted. Had your fill and then some, so there should be no reason why you're like this, feeling the familar flames of arousal warm you. Nothing but greed is writing the code to your actions as you push your breasts together with your hands, fingers running over your nipples with a pained moan. 

Some sick person you must be, so drunk on lust you're ruled by it, letting gluttony get the best of you as Jake collapses in praises of your name and yesyesyes', cock gliding back and forth, unhurried in a slow tempo where he can savour the feel of your flesh. Eyes weigh heavy but your selfishness keeps them open, watching Jake above you. Like this, the man who pulled everything out of you is drastically different, ruined beyond measure that he can't keep himself together. He's a mess in the best possible way, quivering body bathed in soft orange, wearing sweat on his skin with his brows scrunched. His jaw hangs, gasping for air as the sweetest whines pour out of him, so sensitive but still chasing release, a version of himself you wrestle yourself over.

It doesn't take him long to come, spent in a way he can't make his hips to buck any faster, hands gripping the duvet covers eitherside of you with the last of his strength, moved to tears as his glossy eyes find yours. So wrecked. 

"Let me hear it one more time," he pleads, every bit of desperate you've been. "Pleasepleaseplease, bunny. Fuck, just need to hear you one more time."

"Jake," your voice, the last curtain call. "Come for me."

And he does. Hitting a wall hard and fast, body beautifully wound before he falls apart, head falling back with a cry to the moon as drips of come scatter against your skin, all over your chest and under your chin too. His body falls forward, so fast you're scared he'll forget you're even beneath him, only for his strength to be supported by the headboard, muscles flexing with dark shadows as he whines himself back to equilibrium. Sympathy blankets over you, your hand reassuring against his shaking thigh as your thumb caressses him to tranquility, Jake finding his breath and sense of self again in the early hours of what's been a long night.

With his head hung, he unlatches them to a view of you, exhaustion in your smile but still looking at him with every bit of love your heart's been harbouring for him. The same fondness reflects back in him, a foolish giggle half coming out of him before he moves. 

Clean-up in mind, you anticipate him making his way over to the bathroom as he always does, a warm rag used to clean debris but his methods stray. Only move him inches up your torso until he's afforded enough space, lowering himself so his tongue can trace around your come-covered nipples. You whine, watching silently as he makes slow work of clean up his mess, using the excuse of giving your boobs attention with slow swirls and teasing tugs, your chest eventually covered in his saliva instead.

The last of it smears against his two fingers, fingertips on your lips parted open to taste him, tongue gliding over every crevice to lick him clean.

Only then does he collapse onto you, a huff pushing out of you with the loopy chuckles you exchange.

"I need to tip that reader on our way back," you croak, voice hoarse. 

Jake's head moves with your laughter, lifting to get you in his sights. "Hey, I put in all the work here!"

"I know, I know," you respond, smitten regardless as your fingers weave into his loose curls, calm hums vibrating into your skin. "You signed up for it when you met me though."

"I'm getting the sloppiest road-head on our way back," he mumbles, yawning. "Compensation for a job well done."

"Is that what you wanted? For me to pet you and tell you did good?" It's entirely rhetorical, your question, but the light blooming into Jake's features unearths an amused snicker, enthusiastic nods sent your way. "Okay, okay. You did good, you did well, Jake. My good boy,"

Again, the last part is said as a joke. But it's received as anything but when you feel something twitch amidst the joking scratches you do under his chin, his smile too blissful to be innocent. 

"Jake!" you yell, not believing this man. This myth of a man you've somehow shacked up with. "I don't know if you need a time-out or an exorcism. That's enough! Use your fucking hand."

"Doesn't feel good as you though," he pouts, trying to shuffle his way up too, denied by your outstretched hands. "You know being called that gets an reaction out of me."

You shuffle up for comfort against the pillows, Jake's body following soon after. "I did not know that, actually."

Surprise raises his brows, lip corners downturned before he shrugs, beaming a closed mouth beam at you that's hard to not fawn over. "Well, now you know,"

"More information for next round," he winks, then promptly receives a pillow to the face.

Laughter bleeds into the early hours of morning, your break in the mountains providing every bit of satisfaction, a destiny incapable of change.

thank you for reading! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated.ᐟ ᰔ

to join my taglist, please fill out this form! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

GENERAL/ALL WORKS TAGLIST  ⨾ @ahnoote ノ@angelhyuka ノ @hwrtoni ノ @kookiesnkim ノ@kssniki ノ@user-0703 

Self-sabotage must bloom from within you. 

Sprout and sow its roots into you, slow and steady, unsuspecting with a growing sinisterness blamed on something else ─ discipline scarcity, forgetfulness, an unseriousness you'd made more of a joke than stated, your laugh hollowed in its tail end as the weight of consequences push against your chest, crushing ribs and whistling wheezes. You wouldn't say it's terribly detrimental, some of your greatest life lessons are learned through your least loved trait. Life goes on anyways, whether you're your best friend or worst enemy and in those lulls, Jungwon remains stable. Unwavering. Much like he is now, as you tremble under his weight. 

He's one of your life's nicest surprises ─ unexpected, serious and with a heart like no other. It makes your brain stutter, lashes batted in increments because what warrants this? You're trudging through life, changes here and there made for your betterment but up to no standard of your own. Not that you're undeserving of him, but at least what you'd read in fictional tales and romantic poems, you thought you would've met him at a better place. In a better version of you, the one that doesn't need body doubling to get anything done, the kind of person who doesn't blank when asked about who they are, what they like. They're all too big of questions, ones you have answers for but somehow feel like don't fit into conversation ─ like they belong to a former life of yours, or deserve no platform at all. With time, and in no time at all, Jungwon fills in the blanks. Draw conclusions of you ringing too close to home, a prickle of unnerve at your nape for your fear of perception. Yet, you yearn. Yearn for love and to be seen, even in the dark crevices of yourself and in true Jungwon fashion, he loves you through it all. 

Doesn't mind the clutter when things get bad, when your joke's fall flat or the glossiness of your eyes coming with an impending burst of your chest. Unconditional is the love he holds for you, a something that cannot be revoked or misplaced by over-thought actions or a lack of words. Pressure conjures in his palm, soft yet heavy against your hand's back, a wobbled corner of your lips lifted given before another hand swallows the back of your head, your face burying into his chest. A metallic taste decorates your palate, teeth sunk into your bottom lip in a mask of your wails, a poor attempt if anything before the dam breaks. 

You could say you find yourself in a similar situation now. That same too-big feeling in your chest, lungs burning with the breath you forget to take with a vision becoming blurry. It's overwhelm ─ less horrific, with the beginnings of pleasure as you let out a winced whimper, lips clamped into a pale after. 

"Look at how good you're doing," Jungwon coos, love in his eyes while they hang low, glued to where you connect. "How perfect you are taking me." 

Sheets ruffle, a muffled moan at your throat's back before you pant in desperation, a simmered sting in your eyes and between your legs as Jungwon feeds inches of himself into you. Knuckles burn white, your dropped chin futile in your chanced look down below, unsure how much more length you can take before you're split open.

The inches grind to a halt, a burial to your hilt that has your teeth baring, a keen chocked back whilst your body burns furnace levels hot. Your ears ring like church bells, eyes blinked purposely to clear your vision's haze as your body adjusts to his size, clenching and squirming to his detriment. 

He's gracious about it ─ as he is everything ─ not fucking into you like some rapid beast kept away in his chest. The lid of cement contains it, some cracks and frays but nothing sizable enough to hurt you. 

Not in any way you wouldn't like, of course. 

All glossy eyed with a pant that doesn't cease, your voice finds its sound, vocalise your affirmations accompanied by a nod and with a short pause, a double check for your welfare, Jungwon moves. 

He groans, you whimper. Your toes curl with all the lust pooled in your stomach pushed to clog your throat, a feeling of fullness your body doesn't recognise but clings to, even in a dull seethe of pain, reaches out for hints of ecstasy. The more he moves ─ draws his hips back, slick echoing off four walls and announced when he plunges back in ─ the more it's accessible. The more you live for it, back of your head rolling against a pillow's plush as a galaxy dances across your eyes, your moans louder than your ears' rushed blood. 

"Aren't you lucky that I'm the one to ruin you and no one else?" Jungwon offers, tone bathed in that lick of condescend you clench at. The grin's shit-eating on his face as he feels the inevitable squeeze, a harder jut of his hips a crack in his composure. He collects, then carries on. 

"I took my sweet time with you too, made you come thrice on my fingers before you felt brave enough." 

Shadowed in the lowlights of your bedroom, his body magnetizes closer to yours, fingers undoing your duvet grip and weaving his with yours. All with hips at an impossible angle, one that feels like more inches you've had to accommodate for, friction burn on your heels as they glide hot against the duvet, body too small for his dispensed pleasure. 

"Tell me," the whisper dances in your ears, bottom lip grazed against the flesh with a slight labour to his breath. It's the single most erotic thing you've ever heard. "Is it worth it, princess? Feeling me in all the way in your stomach?" 

"Y─" you choke on enthusiasm, the tears in your eyes pushed past their waterline and down your warm cheeks, lips squeaking out the obvious. "Yes." 

"Aren't you sweet?" you hear his smile before seeing it, his face hauntingly beautiful as his pelvis hits the back of your thighs again and again. It spins your head dizzy. "Even sweeter when you're crying for me,"

A kiss bestows the skin of your cheek, a stripe against its warmth as he licks your tear away. All before his fingers squeeze against yours in a sequence of three ─ I. Love. You.

A sob hurtles out your throat, contained in the cross of moans pouring out in generosity, the piston of his hips, feel of his skin and cycle of his breaths making a mess of your body and mind. 

"It's okay, baby," his fingers untwine, the hover of his chest not as imminent while his body heat vacates, your legs handled and propped to the stretch of his shoulders. "You know nothing but pleasure with me." 

And you do. Even with its beginnings of pain, all nothing but a vague memory as he folds you, your thigh's flesh braced to your chest as his bodyweight bares into into their back. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you become untamed, voice's volume foreign to your ears as he chases you off a cliff, his thrusts pushing your head off the pillow and into your headboard. It smacks, your bed creaks, crying with the overwhelm you feel, body with no choice but to suffer the consequences of your actions. Your insistence that you can take it. To your credit, you do, but to an undoing of yourself you cannot overwrite. Ruined by him for anyone else and you wouldn't have it any other way, your tears kissed away before Jungwon's lips find yours, a kiss of death as your orgasm explodes through the cells of your body. 

What crosses your mind once the fog clears, when your body's back on Earth and you're more human is that you wish you watched. Saw the tip of him signal beneath your lower stomach's skin, the rosy flush fill the shell of his ears, the growing desperation Jungwon really can't hold back with you before he ruts into you. Letting go, giving you his everything. 

You wish you could've seen it all. 

Lucky for you, your boyfriend is nothing but willing. A cautious look given before his eyes widen at your legs linking around him, crossing at the small of his back. He laughs then, breathy and low-toned, licking arousal up your spine before he goes again, the feeling of fullness less thought of as self-sabotage and more like love.

thank you for reading! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated.ᐟ ᰔ

to join my taglist, please fill out this form! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

GENERAL/ALL WORKS TAGLIST  ⨾ @ahnoote ノ@angelhyuka ノ @hwrtoni ノ @kookiesnkim ノ@kssniki ノ@user-0703

Self-sabotage must bloom from within you. 

Sprout and sow its roots into you, slow and steady, unsuspecting with a growing sinisterness blamed on something else ─ discipline scarcity, forgetfulness, an unseriousness you'd made more of a joke than stated, your laugh hollowed in its tail end as the weight of consequences push against your chest, crushing ribs and whistling wheezes. You wouldn't say it's terribly detrimental, some of your greatest life lessons are learned through your least loved trait. Life goes on anyways, whether you're your best friend or worst enemy and in those lulls, Jungwon remains stable. Unwavering. Much like he is now, as you tremble under his weight. 

He's one of your life's nicest surprises ─ unexpected, serious and with a heart like no other. It makes your brain stutter, lashes batted in increments because what warrants this? You're trudging through life, changes here and there made for your betterment but up to no standard of your own. Not that you're undeserving of him, but at least what you'd read in fictional tales and romantic poems, you thought you would've met him at a better place. In a better version of you, the one that doesn't need body doubling to get anything done, the kind of person who doesn't blank when asked about who they are, what they like. They're all too big of questions, ones you have answers for but somehow feel like don't fit into conversation ─ like they belong to a former life of yours, or don't deserve the platform at all. With time, and in no time at all, Jungwon fills in the blanks. Draw conclusions of you ringing too close to home, a prickle of unnerve at your nape for your fear of perception. Yet, you yearn. Yearn for love and to be seen, even in the dark crevices of yourself and in true Jungwon fashion, he loves you through it all. 

Doesn't mind the clutter when things get bad, when your joke's fall flat or the glossiness of your eyes coming with an impending burst of your chest. Unconditional is the love he holds for you, a something that cannot be revoked or misplaced by over-thought actions or a lack of words. Pressure conjures in his palm, soft yet heavy against your hand's back, a wobbled corner of your lips lifted given before another hand swallows the back of your head, your face burying into his chest. A metallic taste decorates your palate, teeth sunk into your bottom lip in a mask of your wails, a poor attempt if anything before the dam breaks. 

You could say you find yourself in a similar situation now. That same too-big feeling in your chest, lungs burning with the breath you forget to take with a vision becoming blurry. It's overwhelm ─ less horrific, with the beginnings of pleasure as you let out a winced whimper, lips clamped into a pale after. 

"Look at how good you're doing," Jungwon coos, love in his eyes while they hang low, glued to where you connect. "How perfect you are taking me." 

Sheets ruffle, a muffled moan at your throat's back before you pant in desperation, a simmered sting in your eyes and between your legs as Jungwon feeds inches of himself into you. Knuckles burn white, your dropped chin futile in your chanced look down below, unsure how much more length you can take before you're split open.

The inches grind to a halt, a burial to your hilt that has your teeth baring, a keen chocked back whilst your body burns furnace levels hot. Your ears ring like church bells, eyes blinked purposely to clear your vision's haze as your body adjusts to his size, clenching and squirming to his detriment. 

He's gracious about it ─ as he is everything ─ not fucking into you like some rapid beast kept away in his chest. The lid of cement contains it, some cracks and frays but nothing sizable enough to hurt you. 

Not in any way you wouldn't like, of course. 

All glossy eyed with a pant that doesn't cease, your voice finds its sound, vocalise your affirmations accompanied by a nod and with a short pause, a double check for your welfare, Jungwon moves. 

He groans, you whimper. Your toes curl with all the lust pooled in your stomach pushed to clog your throat, a feeling of fullness your body doesn't recognise but clings to, even in a dull seethe of pain, reaches out for hints of ecstasy. The more he moves ─ draws his hips back, slick echoing off four walls and announced when he plunges back in ─ the more it's accessible. The more you live for it, back of your head rolling against a pillow's plush as a galaxy dances across your eyes, your moans louder than your ears' rushed blood. 

"Aren't you lucky that I'm the one to ruin you and no one else?" Jungwon offers, tone bathed in that lick of condescend you clench at. The grin's shit-eating on his face as he feels the inevitable squeeze, a harder jut of his hips a crack in his composure. He collects, then carries on. 

"I took my sweet time with you too, made you come thrice on my fingers before you felt brave enough." 

Shadowed in the lowlights of your bedroom, his body magnetizes closer to yours, fingers undoing your duvet grip and weaving his with yours. All with hips at an impossible angle, one that feels like more inches you've had to accommodate for, friction burn on your heels as they glide hot against the duvet, body too small for his dispensed pleasure. 

"Tell me," the whisper dances in your ears, bottom lip grazed against the flesh with a slight labour to his breath. It's the single most erotic thing you've ever heard. "Is it worth it, princess? Feeling me in all the way in your stomach?" 

"Y─" you choke on enthusiasm, the tears in your eyes pushed past their waterline and down your warm cheeks, lips squeaking out the obvious. "Yes." 

"Aren't you sweet?" you hear his smile before seeing it, his face hauntingly beautiful as his pelvis hits the back of your thighs again and again. It spins your head dizzy. "Even sweeter when you're crying for me,"

A kiss bestows the skin of your cheek, a stripe against its warmth as he licks your tear away. All before his fingers squeeze against yours in a sequence of three ─ I. Love. You.

A sob hurtles out your throat, contained in the cross of moans pouring out in generosity, the piston of his hips, feel of his skin and cycle of his breaths making a mess of your body and mind. 

"It's okay, baby," his fingers untwine, the hover of his chest not as imminent while his body heat vacates, your legs handled and propped to the stretch of his shoulders. "You know nothing but pleasure with me." 

And you do. Even with its beginnings of pain, all nothing but a vague memory as he folds you, your thigh's flesh braced to your chest as his bodyweight bares into into their back. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you become untamed, voice's volume foreign to your ears as he chases you off a cliff, his thrusts pushing your head off the pillow and into your headboard. It smacks, your bed creaks, crying with the overwhelm you feel, body with no choice but to suffer the consequences of your actions. Your insistence that you can take it. To your credit, you do, but to an undoing of yourself you cannot overwrite. Ruined by him for anyone else and you wouldn't have it any other way, your tears kissed away before Jungwon's lips find yours, a kiss of death as your orgasm explodes through the cells of your body. 

What crosses your mind once the fog clears, when your body's back on Earth and you're more human is that you wish you watched. Saw the tip of him signal beneath your lower stomach's skin, the rosy flush fill the shell of his ears, the growing desperation Jungwon really can't hold back with you before he ruts into you. Letting go, giving you his everything. 

You wish you could've seen it all. 

Lucky for you, your boyfriend is nothing but willing. A cautious look given before his eyes widen at your legs linking around him, crossing at the small of his back. He laughs then, breathy and low-toned, licking arousal up your spine before he goes again, the feeling of fullness less thought of as self-sabotage and more like love.

thank you for reading! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated.ᐟ ᰔ

to join my taglist, please fill out this form! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

GENERAL/ALL WORKS TAGLIST  ⨾ @ahnoote ノ@angelhyuka ノ @hwrtoni ノ @kookiesnkim ノ@kssniki ノ@user-0703

You knew this would happen. You knew it would, yet you let the chaos unfold. Engage in the slow-moving crash you had no brakes for, and you're entirely to blame. 

A weekend away, surrounded by a mix of yours and Riki's friends, shedding everyday melancholy and retreating to a rented mansion built by the hands of luxury, high ceilings and polished floors, severely out your price range but better as a pooled splurge. After all, it's been so long since you've all been together ─ meat and vegetables on the grill, wine bottles littering the dining table on the balcony you sit on, laughing with no troubles. It's everything your heart's longed for, adoring eyes given to everyone around you despite the antics of your boyfriend, his cheeks flushed with the throaty hiccup of his laughter, using any chance he gets to annoy you. 

You reprimanded him, of course. But it's water off his back, cooed over by your friends who say you'll bicker all the same into old age together. Timidity flames beneath your cheeks, not helped by the warmth of alcohol coursing through your body, making you antsy, itch out your skin as your foot taps to the speaker's music. You could do with some water, jugs of it cleared at the table. Perhaps a salty snack too, excusing yourself from the table with a hand on your friend's shoulder before your chair drags, your figure stumbling to its stand. 

"Sure you'll manage?" Riki teases, forehead creased with the mirth rife in his smirk. "Bit unstable there." 

"I'm just fine," you firm, the joking drop of his jaw earning him a stuck-out tongue, childish on your behalf but you're too tipsy to care. Those around you laughing along as you amble back into the house, pushing back sliding doors and peeking through drawn curtains, pattering into the kitchen with all its lights on. 

You're only alone with your thoughts for so long before the door slides open, music filtering through. It's a song queued by Riki, no doubt in your mind as the heavy bass thumps, raunchy lyrics meant for Tiktok thirst traps and edits blaring. Your eyes roll, bending over to look in the low cupboards for your beloved snack amongst cabinet groceries. Something salty, something to bite into. 

And of course, who is your boyfriend if not a menace?

He's come up behind you, dancing his way to his destination during the inattention you paid him, pausing in the cast of your shadow. The sliding doors are closed, curtains drawn, but you can still hear some semblance of the ongoing song, lyrics murmured about making someone come and Riki just─

His large hands fall to your hips, fake banging you as he raps along, laughing because he's sick and twisted. Laughing at the shock jolting you in his hold, how your body stumbles a touch forwards because he's not all that stable either and accidentally bumps into you, hands grappling the countertop so it doesn't barrel into your forehead.

"Riki." Your voice carries a warning, not the least bit amused. 

"Whaaat?" he drags the vowel, continuing to fake bang you from behind. Still laughing. "No one's around."

"That's besides the─" he bumps into you again, sending you into a brace. Your throat bobs, eyebrows drawn. "─the point." 

Your curt tone is nothing but a source of amusement to him, his chuckle light and taunting as his hands firm on the curve of your waist, bumping into you again.

"You're just embarrassed because you love it," he reasons, doomed with that stupid chuckle of this. "Can't get angry at me when you're worse on wine."

True. An unnecessary truth. Because with wine-blurred googles on, your brain makes the trek to its memory, flashes of moments when the same taste lingered on your tongue, your tear eyes and desperate pleas taking up the majority as you'd been folded every way you begged for. 

God.

"Hm? Did I make you remember something?" Riki's on a mission to annoy you, his hips ceasing but presence there ─ hovering for you like bait. A dangled carrot your hips have no shame in chasing, hinged backwards as the flesh of your ass falls back on his bulge, indulging. "You're cute when you're like this…"

His words pause, ears peaking in anticipation as your eyes flutter closed, grip adjusting against the countertop's edge as your bottom lip folds in a mess of teeth. Molten lava swirls in the pits of your stomach at the clothed press, gashing away at the little self-restraint you wish you had. 

"Cockdrunk."

The word hits you like a tonne of bricks, back an inch straightened as shame makes itself known, in the dirty mix of your belly even so while your eyes blink fiercely, head turning to the sliding doors just metres away. 

"Riki."

"Say the word and I'll pull your panties aside," he's doing it again. Fake banging you, which should irritate you, your body jutting forwards with the real force he puts into his motions, except─ "Ease the ache you're trying to hide,"

"Bet you're wet too," he notes, your head needing not to turn to know the shit-eating grin marking his face, one hand deserting your hips as it slithers undettered beneath the frill of your skirt to where he gets his answer. "Shit,"

"Please,"

Something's wrong with you. Something must be wrong with you, the wine doing all the talking because you're yielding. Relenting to something only the dark corners of your mind can conjure, hips seeking his as you sink into the feel of him, half hard with fingertips ghosting over your panty-clad cunt.

"Fuck you?" he has the audacity in questioning. "Oh, you'll have to ask me nicely. None of this rubbing shit against me," 

He stalls your hips mid-hinge, a frustrated whine an auto-response as your head starts to spin, swimming in an abyss of nothing but filth. 

"Riki," you hate how brittle your voice sounds, so desperate to be pleased. "Come on, please? I can't─I need it."

"Need what?" his favourite pastime is taunting you, ever so evident as his fingertip dips into the hollow of your entrance, closing around the vacant spot he's quick to desert. "At this point, fake banging you might just get you off. I know you're all teary eyed too ─ poor baby." 

"Let's check," his hand comes to your jaw, the hand where you wanted him most leaving and craning your neck to put your face in view, a sad and frustrated gloss sparkling your eyes. "Crying from two places, you poor thing,"

If he has pity for you, it's without substance, his hand back under your skirt as your expression sours, head hung as you catch a glimpse of his ghosting hand. "You know you've soaked through these already, right?" 

"Were you sat there with all our friends, crossing your legs, reprimanding me because you were so pent up?" he questions, reading you like an open book. His finger trails down the spine of your book as his middle finger pushes in your entrance again, teasing you to no end. "I wouldn't be surprised if you leaked onto your seat." 

"Put it in," is your sharp remark, wavering under the buckle of need rushing through. "This isn't funny."

"It is a little. Watching you squirm," you hear his smirk, another bump against you done as a prompt. "Say please."

"Please."

It comes out quick. Unhurried, breaking the half-hearted facade you'd constructed for yourself, his finger pushed deep enough for a soft squelch to sound, licked off his fingers in a smack that scatters goosebumps across your heating skin. "Fuck,"

"Bend over." 

You're already bent, on show for anyone who could stumble upon the sight, but you know Riki. Knows how he likes you, how you'll comply to his wishes to a tea as the arch in your back deepens, its bow rewarded by his satisfactory chest-born hum. He doesn't pull your panties to the side, a knack for putting you beneath him as he tugs them down to bunch around your knees coming together, relinquishing the pressure-built over his teasing, worsened by the sound of ruffling clothes, the clink of his undoing belt swarming your head with deep lust.

With your skirt bunched up, he lifts the material higher, your entire ass on show to bring out a sheepish yelp, chilled air meeting hair-standing skin as his buckle and unzipped trousers graze the back of your thighs. His tip slides from beneath, catching onto your entrance to paint it in the precome it beads with, sliding further up to knock against your clit, Riki getting his kick out of watching you squirm once again. 

"I'm putting it in," he warns like he needs to, smirk hanging on the end of his words. "Any last words?"

"Stop messing arou─" 

Syllables are left to die on your tongue, falling into the back of your throat as it clogs with a shaken inhale. It's immense ─ the feeling your body's hotwired for, the stretch of him pushing through to walls that can't help give him a warm welcome, folding and moulding to ridges and veins as he does a torturously slow slide into you. Your jaw pops with its unhinge, too lost for words and thankful your arms are already placed on the countertop, elbows digging with your sinking weight as nails pierce into your palm, fist coming together with a white-knuckle hue. 

He doesn't stop until he's at the hilt, so snug where he resides, at least allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Above you, you hear him stifle a moan, a racked whimper gritted out in a broken groan, only amplifying the dangerous swirl in your stomach. Your walls flutter at the sound, an invitation to proceed that he takes, momentarily stopped because he knows he's abrasive like this ─ too much to handle, but you love it anyways, skin sweat-veiled and humming for what awaits as Riki drags himself back by inches, pulling out until only his tip's left in you. 

Your skirt's bunched up even more, your whole lower back on show. A hand once used to line himself into you comes to the plush of your ass, kneading the flesh to spread you further, Riki sinking in soon after with a groan only described as animalistic. 

"You have no idea how good you look right now," he grits out, voice gravel in your ears as he starts off with slow strokes, accustoming you to the stretch of his cock, feeding off the prolonged squelches that come with it. "Is this all for me, baby?"

You're a slave to your own pleasure, soft gasp rasped in your throat having gone dry, saliva gulped down in a mewl as he fills you over and over again, not in the way that scratches your desperate itch but enough to melt you into putty.

"God, you sound so needy," he moans, rings welding into your skin with the heft of his grip, hips picking up speed to your detriment. "Gripping me so tight. God, I just have my hands full with you, don't I?" 

"Riki," you whine helplessly, left with nothing but the echo of your smacked skin together in the lulls of your voice. 

"I never get tired of watching my cock go in and out of you," he voices, memorised. Eyes trained on where you meet, your own hips falling back to his pelvis, too eager for decorum. "Baby, I'm not going anywhere. Give me a little breathing room," 

"Is it because you can't wait or," he chuckles, leaning over to hover his lips over your ear. "Am I too big for you?" 

His chuckle haunts you, warm wind blown past your flushed ears as he purposely knocks harder into you, impaling wails out of you as you simply take what he gives ─ bent over a sparkling kitchen counter, panties of shame hung at your knees while your tongue's lolled out like you're in heat.

If anyone could see you right now…the shame would ruin you. 

"Ah, ah ─ needy, needy thing," Riki makes a mockery of your moans, something that ticks in your brain, walls doing a vice grip on his cock. "Taking all of me because you're too cockdrunk to think otherwise. Feels good, princess?"

"So good, oh my─" the words are sloshed in your mouth, weighted down by your tongue that feels too big for its container, eyes glazed over and unfocused. "Don't stop. Please?"

"I won't, princess," he has the heart to confirm, too far gone in his own lust as he pistons into you, just as needy. "Even if someone comes in, I'll keep going. Give you what you really want." 

The moment is marked by something you'd rather forget, of course brought to light by your dearest boyfriend. 

"Did you just clench?" he huffs, incredulous."Oh baby, you tell on yourself so bad. It's cute." 

His chest falls over your back again in what's meant to be an embrace, quickly souring as his wrapped arms stumble upon something. An open secret he voices regardless. 

"Oh?" his arms unwind, one hand on your hip and the other splayed over your lower stomach, the faint outline of his cock pressing against his palm. "I can feel myself here. Is that why you're so incoherent?"

"Because you're stuffed full?"

Nails scrape into the marble countertops, hard enough to break off with how delirious you feel, your brain a hot pile of melting mush between your ears as you get drunk off Riki's words, panting as if already exhausted. 

A firm palm presses into the small of your back, your arch emphasized with the cold graze of his chunky bracelets, whimper clawed back as your hand slaps against your mouth, the angle he's moulded you into hitting deepest. Moisture threatens to clump your lashes together, lust conjuring a storm in the stomach he's actively trying to rearrange, hands bruising against skin as smacked skin sounds, urgent and echoed by the slick between your legs.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, limbs dreadfully unstable. 

"You're holding back," he grunts behind you, his tone a lick of sinister work. Amused, always so fucking amused. "Keeping all your pretty moans to yourself. You know I'll fuck them out of you, right?"

"Let all our friends hear how good you're at taking cock," he insists, making a point of bringing your hips harder into his, smacked skin deafening in your ringing ears. "That what you want? Them knowing how dirty you are?"

It's too much and not enough. You always get like this, so docile, so lost in your desires and the sensations of it all that the brink of release is nothing but a short distance away, fogged over by your clouded thoughts but undeniably there. The pleasured stretch of his cock bullying into you, his hand accented with cold rings firmed against your lower stomach, the ecstasy pumping rife through your blood, rendering you the mess you're quickly crumbling to.

"W-wait, I'm gonna─"

"Don't tell me you're coming," A huffed chuckle sounds behind you, the hand he has on your shoulder pushing your hair off it, down to your back with his fingers left on your accelerated pulse. "Wine makes you so easy, baby. Haven't even touched your clit."

It detaches. His hand on a mission under your body, meant to destroy you from within. "Lemme─"

"Where'd they go?" 

A pin drops. Silence, and painstaking horror. Enough fear to drain the rushing blood in you, body a mannequin as you're frozen in place.

The glass doors leading to the kitchen push further, wind blowing in, meat still sizzling on the grill as the voice speaks again.

"She went to grab some snacks but," Sunoo seemingly deflates, a presumably pout on his lips as hands smack down at his sides. "Riki just left."

"He's probably terrorising her," Jake reasons, laughing as he does. They're venturing further into the kitchen, right where you once were. "He loves to get under her skin."

Hidden behind a nearby wall, your head burrows into the hard surface, tears smudging into the clean paint coat as your body curls into itself, an attempt to make yourself as small and unseen as possible.

Riki had manhandled you, circled arms around your middle, plucking you off your useless feet only meant to dangle as he'd retreated behind the wall. His cock was in you the entire time, burrowed too deep to leave, and with each knock into your sweet spot, paralysed by incoming company and his steps, you'd been a goner. 

An absolute goner. 

"He's right," a dark whisper crawls in your ear, lips brushed against the shell of your ear. You shiver violently. "Little does he know…"

"Should we save her?" Sunoo asks, still loitering in the kitchen, cupboards creaking as they open. 

"Nah, let them be," Jake thankfully responds, a cabinet door shutting in his wake. "They'll come back soon enough. I need another drink,"

"I'll get one, I guess…"

"Sure you can handle another?" Jake teases, mirth rife in his teased words. "You said you get 'weird' when you're drunk,"

"Shut up! That was one time!" Sunoo yells, voice carrying as they venture back outside, sliding doors closing with a resounding click. 

The house is eerily quiet, murmurs of outside noise blocked off, making inside noise all the more stark. Your shaken pants, the ruffle of grated clothing, Riki's cock doing a slow plunge back into your slick-lined walls, only removed to his tip and pushed back in to hear you squeal. 

"This excites you?" he teases, voice a dark husk only submerging you further. "Almost getting caught? You're clenching around me so hard,"

He's close again, not deterred by the bow of your back as his chest presses into you, teeth grazed over in a bite he sinks into at the bottom of your earlobe, a pained whimper dragging your nails into drywall. 

"Or is it because you want me to breed you?" he asks, a rhetorical question nonetheless. Because you both know the answer, how ever much you wish to deny it. "It's okay, I know how you like your hole stuffed." 

A dial's turned, to the max where there's no return, shameless in the thrusts you're nearly punished by, Riki fully knocking you into the wall you're sobbing into, your lips pleading for mercy to wash over you. 

"I'll give you a nice load, send you back out with these stupid soaked panties on," he grunts, the palm of his hand on the back of your head, pushing you into the wall for leverage as he bruises you from within. "Good luck not messing the place. I'm backed up," 

You break. Shatter in premeditated pieces because your fuzzy mind can't handle anything, delicate to the touch as miraged images infiltrate. The indecency of his words, the shame coming with them ─ questioning looks, raised eyebrows, thoughts kept to your friends when they've discovered how unkept you are ─ the feeling. The unadulterated pleasure taking over your entire being, submerged in everything Riki gives you to where, you have no choice but to shake. 

"Ah, there you go. There's my baby," he coos, the howl of laughter following after his condescending words. "Just watch you shake. You're so close, aren't you?" 

You nod into drywall, tears staining your flamed cheeks.

"Poor thing, it's okay. You should come," he encourages, taking false pity that only unravels you more. His bracelets jangle, fevered fingertips having collected slick and rubbing against your clit, the pull and push of his cock ontop of the sensation too much to bare. "Come and I'll give you all mine. Come on, pretty girl. Let Riki know how good you feel," 

You detonate. Timer on its last digits, pushed over by words you'll think of long afterwards, back of your hand inched up the wall for your lips to magnetise to, a loud shriek in no way muffled before teeth hinge into skin, eyes squeezed shut with cascading tears as you orgasm. You're not yourself, hollowed out and entirely separate from the body existing in a parallel universe, soul free-floating out its case as it lays witness to the convulsions you're condemned to, a prisoner to your release as it racks through you with devastating destruction. 

Falling apart right before him, Riki groans. Hungry and needy, his teeth bury into the flesh of your quivering shoulder as his hips pistons a few more times, half-hearted strokes with his last strain used to knock right up into you, your body forced to the tips of your toes in a high squeal. Hot come coats your walls, like he'd cornered you for wanting and the warmth blends with the hot mess you feel, a malleable puddle slumping against the wall Riki pins you against, arms bracketing your head. 

Time passes on, the gathering outside still ongoing with hearty laughs and thumping music, and you're here. The laboured cycle of your breath, the sweat lining your skin cooling as you regain a normal pace of breath, fingertips digging into the wall for stability meanwhile your body's already pinned, Riki a hot brand on your back as his tongue darts out, licking a stripe of salt off the column of your neck, to which he groans. 

"We're fucking on the bed next," he mumbles into your skin, smile pressed into it as your head swivels, eyes wide in alarm. "Didn't get to see your pretty face enough when you came." 

Fuck wine. You're burning every vineyard and dispensary to the ground.

After you've had your fill. 

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If there's one thing you've always been, it's lucky.

Life for you comes set on easy mode, everything your heart desires coming to you in abundance. Good grades, great friends, luxury, high self-esteem and all the guys you could ever want. Versatile taste with looks that could kill have guys flocking to you in droves, on their knees with the promise of everything you already have. When you were younger, you indulged: tried out what the world had to offer but when men tripped over themselves to be with you, being paraded around as their arm candy began to wear off. You'd become a prop in someone's life, a background character in your own and it just wouldn't do. Your resort becomes restriction, not falling into the arms of the best-looking suitor, someone you thought looked best alongside you to fit everyone's image and became selfish because if men were, why couldn't you be?

Have your cake and eat it too. Some may say it's backwards, but it's none of their business what you do in your spare time. Your life is your life only and what better way to relieve the stress of endless assignment deadlines then a game of cat and mouse? Purposeful in your selection, your needs are met in the careful curation of your suitors' desires, done only to satisfy your own but never extended to entertain the prospect of a relationship. Because if there's anywhere the mere idea of a relationship is repulsive, it's the lawless bubble of uni.

The pattern unfolds as follows: feed your ego, get whatever else you need and dip because who are you, if not, a little evil?

It's a tactic that's served you well, sparing you from the tears you refuse wasting on men. It even serves you now, a means to end in the form of your latest target.

Sim Jaeyun comes into your life a part of a module project, a paired assignment that at least places you with the smartest person in class. Drafting up research is something well within your capabilities, except the program you're tasked with using is your worst enemy. An unnecessarily complicated software that with the workshops you missed first year too hungover to show, an attempt at catching up is futile. Even more so now when Jake allocates himself the task, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses with a giddy smile before he jots it down in a planner scribbled with Physics meets and 'Coding for fun!' as his hobby time. 

Nerdy isn't your usual type, but he's handsome to a fault. Soft slopes resembling a prince, especially when his eyes glitter. The itch manifests, his eagerness to make this as least stressful for you cementing him in your clutches. It warps the niceness of your brain, tactics of manipulation utilized as you play into cluelessness. Bend over for your dropped pen, somehow unaware a sliver of your panties peeks through all too short skirt. Lean impossibly close when he's inputting your study's results, hands resting on his arm, giving a good squeeze and glowing smile as you marvel at his work. You are impressed, but not enough to be fawning to such an extent. After he gulps down his lodge of nerves, offering to teach you in a shaky voice, you can't help but smile, sharp at its edges but a smile nevertheless, using the excuse to breach into more personal space until there's none left.

"You feel so good."

Fogged windows are your tell, alerting curious eyes of the nefarious activities occurring in Jake's beat up car. It's an upgrade from the grim state of low-lives you've regretfully slept with, but fucking in the same car your mother drives isn't ideal. It's the result of your pent-up self from the night before, texts sent to Jake going unread. Of course you have options, but Jake currently remains the only source of play you torment, a raspberry blown when you're forced to take matters into your own hands. You'd awoken to a flood of texts, rambled apologies and the promise to make things right. Always on your terms, because a life beyond that didn't exist for you. Therefore, you find yourself here, striking out with unavailable dorm rooms with a settlement of this ─ the backseat of his car. 

The car rocks with every bounce, the squelch between your legs amplified off the motor vehicle walls. Pants shake out your parted lips, Jake's lips bitten and quivering as he watches his cock disappear into you, velvety walls wrapping around him, coaxing him into sweet release. 

"Squeezing me so tight, I can't─" his whimpers pour, head thrown back before his throat bobs with a dire exhale. A trail of sweat trails down the column of his neck, tempting you. You're feral enough to hook your nails into the skin of his nape, licking the salt clean off his skin.

He's docile like this, drunk on you, deciding between which view is better: your cunt dragging up and down his flushed cock or your face, thinly veiled in sweat with a part of your lips that's too erotic for words. It tortures him, the pain and the pleasure, evidently heard in the chesty groan he gives, lips forming into a pout as his eyes grow vacant, drifting off far away into his own fantasies. Your ego doesn't need further boosting, but the flattery is nice ─ having someone so gone for you, they'll fawn over your smallest details. Hope to capture any piece of you they can and in the swampy muddle of Jake's thoughts, his intentions shine through. His lips purse, face drawing to yours in a kiss you see coming and don't reciprocate. The best he's given is the splay of your hand as you push him back, forehead against your palm, his head knocked back to the exposure of his neck. He's so sensitive there, one of the things you care to remember for him, your chuckle marrying into his skin as the sink of your teeth preludes the graze of your tongue.

Jake may as well fall apart then and there, the shake of his body speaking to his torment as his hips lift to meet yours, the smack of skin cursing your eardrums as his tip notches into your sweet spot, your claws sinking deeper. Your eyes close, moan softened by the clamp of your lips, pleasure bloomed in your stomach coming into fruition.

Amusement finds itself tickling your chest, cocky grin cracked as Jake continues to shake, all your doing. Your hand migrates to cup his cheek, other hand bound to the car's headrest as your weight's supported by Jake's hands beneath, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass.

"Am I making you weak?" You don't bother hiding your chuckle, thumb brushing its way over to rest on his lips, his glossy eyes on yours. "You're cute,"

"Better when your mouth's busy."

The prompt parts his lips for your thumb, pillow lips engulfing the finger with a peer up at you best describes as true surrender. Unabashed and hopelessly wrapped around your finger.

Couldn't be you. 

Through the accumulated condensation, the mostly desolate parking lot incurs another vehicle, the rumble rocking beneath its wheels as loud music blares from its speakers. Your rhythm suffers, a minute buckle Jake catches you in, an exhale expelled from you as Jake shows his desperation, fingertips digging further as his hips buck up in haste, whines caught between your thumb then released. He thinks you're just as lost in this, body falling over his so his chin's tucked into the crook of your neck, his pants painting your feverish skin. However, you've just leaned forwards to get a better look, a peak of clear rear windshield confirming what you'd suspected all along. 

Heeseung's here.

In all the bids of attention men seek from you, his separates itself from others. Primarily because he doesn't even try, never spares the time nor a second glance. He simply exists outside your social circle, feeding into the emo, loner stereotype you thought people outgrew gossiping over at uni. Alias, he remains a permanent fixture in your mind, visiting you deep into the night when you're restless and reminiscing about how he strums his guitar and what other things he could do with his fingers. Calm and collected, he wears cool on his face, branding himself in beat up Doc Martens and Nu Metal rock band t-shirt, a genre you share a commonality in. It's the very same genre he blasts, Fred Durst's rant of breaking stuff cut off when Heeseung kills the car's engine. 

Your body reacts immediately, breath caught as you watch him haul out the flung open door, immediately lighting a cigarette he smokes against the side of his car. 

"God, you're soaked. I'm gonna come," Jake cries, reminding you of his presence. You cast him an ounce of curiosity, line of sight all pleading eyes and flushed cheeks. "Can I? Can I come inside? I don't wanna─"

His rambles get cut off when you've directed your gaze back at Heeseung, watching the cloud of smoke puff out his lips. At this point, he's nothing more than a blurred figure, the heat of working bodies shrouding the car in meant-to-be mystery. The charade only holds up for so long before someone notices, the someone being Heeseung as his head of pink hair tilts, gaze directed over at Jake's car. 

"Come in me," you mewl, coil tightened in your belly as your watchful eyes observe Heeseung creep towards the car. "I need it."

It couldn't be more obvious what occurs in the car's interior, your hips moving with intention as your eyes never leave Heeseung, the image of him pounding into you speed-running you to the cliff's edge. Moisture collects along your waterline, broken moan muffled into your circled arms as your walls clench in a suffocating squeeze, obscene squelches not doing enough to hide the rumble of Heeseung's approaching footsteps. They're only brought to a stall when Jake notches one last time into you, stars crossing your vision as you cry out with your release, Heeseung's name on the edge of your tongue. 

He never attends parties. 

Every club night, house party and in between has gathered fleeting moments where your eyes looked for him, Heeseung's presence never to be found. Perhaps he didn't care for the drunk crowd, better preferring the quiet of his room as Deftones lull in the background, immersing himself in whatever artistic hobby your mind could concoct. Fantasy fills the gaps left in the lack of interactions, your mind only left to wonder what kind of man he is behind the whispers of gossips, a torn artist with the sweetest voice, an iron-clad expression worn for the public with an immediate melt in the presence of loved ones. It's the exact scene that plays out before you as Heeseung's smokey eyeshadowed eyes cut across the room, landing on the figure that approaches him. Beomgyu, one of the more sociable emos who most likely extended the invitation to Heeseung, the bunch of his cheeks and the kindness of his eyes pouring as he gratefully accepts the drink handed to him. 

Your mind is everywhere all at once, diving across realms of possibilities, trying to explain his presence, how to approach him and whether your outfit is approach-worthy. It's attracted a lot of attention, hungry gazes cast your way, but in the same breath as your own satisfaction, you wonder: would he like my outfit? Would he give me the time of day? How do you not seem like a poser when you actually have the same─

"What's got your attention?" Jungwon's voice pierces through, your mirage broken. "Oh, your chemical romance is here." 

Eyes rolling to your best friend, your elbow nudges into his ribcage, a snickered yelp his response. "Can you not?"

"What? It's a good one, isn't it?" he beams a proud grin, shrouded in the darkness permeating the open-plan kitchen. A rainbow LED disco ball provides some glimmer of vision, the moonlight a supporting act as it streams through the kitchen's large windows, chatter and loud music dominating the space.

It's funny how in the chaos of it all, your mind narrows down to a single presence. Tucked away in the corner of the living room, on a leather couch as Heeseung chats with Beomgyu. He chips at his black nail polish, face brightening as Beomgyu relays a story full of animation, his friend catching the bug as his back lifts off the couch, an index finger pointed as he laughs. You don't hear it over the music, but you can only imagine what it sounds like.

Saying it leaves you floored is an understatement.

"You're gonna catch flies," Jungwon's hand lifts your jaw back into place, swatted away with a scowl sent his way. "Now you care when I'm handsy."

You grin as you straighten out your skirt, shimmying down the curves of your hips. "Wouldn't want you scaring away prospects," 

"Speaking in plurals when there is none," he gives a chuckle, head tipped to drink while his eyes remain on you. "You gonna approach him or am I taking you home tonight?"

Your head lifts, another roll of the eyes given in the face of his smugness. "You wish."

Then your gaze averts, because it's an inevitable in such circumstances. It happens by pure coincidence, the lock of your eyes, but it sends your chest into a violent ricochet. Seated right beside a lava lamp, Heeseung's side profile bathes in hues of sunset orange and resonate violet, his features soft and pretty, a stark contrast from the glimmer of piercings littering his face. What you'd assume is a gaze cast to Beomgyu is dismantled, his friend's figure vacant from the weathered leather couch, affording Heeseung the real estate to spread his legs, the tartan skirt over his jeans draping over his knees. As such, he looks to you, his chin slightly lifted in a leer of unspoken words. The lyrics of the thumping music boil into a babbled blur, softening to highlight the hard thump of your heart, beating at worrying speeds. It seeks to break free from the bruises of your chest, your hand white knuckling your drink yet still maintaining eye contact. 

The one thing you prided yourself on maintaining - initiating - turns on its head when roles are reversed, cotton ball caught in the lodge of your throat as Heeseung regards you. From head to toe, he gives you three quarters of his face with no known expression before his eyes settle back on your eyes again, taking their sweet time at the length of your skirt beforehand. His tongue then darts out, smoothed over the plump of his lip, a slick glide teasing the snake bites accented near the corners of his mouth. It's then you wonder like many times what they'd feel like against your tongue, run over in a wretched drag as you cup his chin in your hand, succumbing to your own rules, diving in for a kiss you can't resist because in the end, you'd deem it worth it. Worth the attachment and mess that always comes as a consequence.

The syrup of your stare clears in the middle, haloed in slow dribble as you witness the uptake of his mouth. On one-side, missable to the naked eye, but never yours. 

A sign, one you take and run with despite the rabbit in your chest, shoulders back as your legs take you towards him, the makeshift dancefloor clearing as the only way ahead leads to him. In the rash of your decision, your brain doesn't afford itself the luxury of anticipating what your first words may be to Heeseung, nor does it concern itself with anything else besides keeping your eyes on him, his stretch of satisfaction spreading as you stand over him, cracking a smile of your own. 

"This seat taken?" 

In the swarm of sloshed alcohol drinks and whispered proposals to head upstairs, Heeseung smiles at you, warm and inviting, ringed hand patting the open space the universe saves for you. And like every other good fortune tossed your way, you settle, no known nerves perceived except the slight tremour of your hand, engaging in your favourite pass-times. 

Volleyed flirting. 

"My taste's a bit all over the place, but divorced dad is where most my favourites skew," you joke later on, introductions and nervous chatter out the way.

You're more confident now, yourself with a straightened back and head tilted, smiling the same way you do when you've locked eyes with prey. However, what remains different in the game you've played with Jake is the absence of darted eyes, Heeseung headstrong as he observes you with the quiet confidence guys fawning over you rarely possess, babbling themselves into a hole you don't ruin your nails digging them out of. He's slouched a bit, legs still spread, extended knee a hairlength away from yours. He isn't the unreadable force you'd fuelled your fantasies with anymore, a sense of normalcy to him and yet, your heart's still set on him, the slim pickings of his personality given to you only heightening your attraction.

"Like Alice In Chains?"

"Yeah, Deftones, Queens of the Stone Age, Type O Negative, Stone Temple Pilots," you list, his impressed nods encouraging the flattery in your grin. "There was one house party where Unglued came on and I'd had some to drink,"

Your giggle interrupts you, attention lapsing momentarily at the buzz in your lap, your screen lighting up with texts. 

You wouldn't answer, not with the current matter at hand. 

"The kitchen counter and I made great friends that night. A video's probably saved in my friend's chat somewhere."

Heeseung gives a laugh, shielded by his fist, his bracelets jangling at the action. It's sincere, his shoulders lifted, almost pulled into himself as his eyes crinkle, their shine evident. You have to look away to calm the thunder in your chest.

"I would've paid good money to have seen it," he says, means it too in the soft expression he provides, your eyebrow raised in question. He doesn't bother with words, instead settling for a nod that feels a step closer to your end goal. "Maybe I need to get out more. Not just for concerts."

You point to the t-shirt he wears, a black concert t-shirt of a band you have a soft spot for. "You went to their concert?"

Heeseung peers down, chuckling to himself. "Of course! I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't see Cherub Rock live."

"It's so good live, right?" your exclaim comes with the drop of your hands, phone bouncing in your lap. It buzzes again and you toss it a glance of annoyance. "Crazy to think we went to the same concert."

"I know," he confirms, finger parting the coral fringe crowding his forehead. He shakes its part, eyes on you again. "Limp Bizkit's meant to be touring soon if you're interested?"

Hook, line and sinker. 

It's words you've imagined far too many times, playfulness in you enough to toy with the proposition. Reality differs from the imaginary, however, what's meant to be an obvious yes differing in a real-life reply.

"I'd go, but I've got an assignment to hand in," the one you're sure Jake texted you about earlier. Not that you cared to read his messages. All night, the texts you'd received come from him alone, a bid for your attention, especially since the last time you talked. Your usual afternoon work session ended in a confession of sorts, no explicit mention of his feelings, because he's too shy to say otherwise, but he'd proposed seeing each other like it was something you'd be interested in ─ it wasn't.

So, you let him down easy, hand coming to give him headpats like a wounded dog as you relayed some bullshit excuse, giving him the kiss of death on his forehead before departing. You should've ended things there, expressed no interest in pursuing something you didn't envision with him but the looming project deadline proposed awkwardness you'd rather avoid navigating. It's your mess, created by your greedy hands, so you dealt with how you knew best ─ stringing him along, appeasing him because even if the title of your boyfriend could never be his, he was eager enough to serve you every other way.

Your sigh comes out wistful, eyes directed to the man in front of you. The same pair that have been on you ever since your eyes locked. Goosebumps litter your skin. "Exams too. So, I'm a bit stressed at the minute."

Bait.

That's what it is. An opportunity for Heeseung to take your advances packaged in a pretty bow, eyelashes batted with your legs crossed enough to hitch your skirt higher, unexplored skin on show.

His eyes don't miss it, lingering there delicately before they flicker up to yours, a shade darker. 

"That's a real shame. Would've been good to go together," his face starts to brim a closed-mouth smile, lopsided with all kinds of mischief. "Then again, if you're with me, you'll get rid of a lot of that stress,"

Chipped nail polish comes into view, a lone fingertip tapped against your knee in the thumps of ongoing music before he draws patterns, watching with a smile as goosebumps follow in his wake. His head lifts after he's derived enough satisfaction, the rise and fall of your chest seen in the cocky expression he displays. 

"I'm good at relieving stress." 

Which is how you find yourselves searching for the next deserted bedroom, your back meeting the plush mattress with your legs thrown over Heeseung's shoulders, fingers weaved into dyed hair as you sing his praises. 

"You're so wet for me, pretty," he moans around your clit, body squirming in its aftermath. "Needed me that bad, huh?" 

You have no idea. The thought comes to you, but quickly disappears in the fog of your brain, muddled beyond recognition in the puddle between your ears. 

"Poor pussy's just crying for me," he goes on, fingers replacing his mouth as they curl right at the angle bowing your back off the mattress. You face him with a mouth agape and screwed face, stars dancing in your vision's peripheral. "Hate to think what you would've done without me,"

A grin cracks, shit-eating and full of the confidence you give him. "Probably fucked yourself silly on your fingers wishing they were mine. Isn't that right, plaything?"

The cry you let out is released in pure ecstasy, thighs clamping together with the impossible squeeze of your walls, wound so incredibly tight you're gasping for air. 

"Close already?" his eyebrow cocks, finger incessant on bringing you there. "Didn't take you as the easy type..."

It's everything you're not, but deep down inside, you know. The ring of truth in his words, that you'd bend over backwards to experience this night again and again, fuck yourself to the very same images and the shame only brings your orgasm closer, so close you could─

"What the fuck?"

The lustful film takes its time clearing your sight, but when your head swivels to the open door of the bedroom, it disappears immediately. Along with your soul as Jake's figure lingers at the doorway, his glasses skew at the sight before him.

Not optimal, you'd imagine. 

He at least has the presence of mind to close the door. However, him stepping into the bedroom with an unreadable expression has you worried, body rushing to sit up as your legs close. 

Heeseung seems to have other ideas, hand lightly sandwiched between your knees with a flick to keep them apart. In an unbelievable change of circumstances, you'd rather keep them closed.

"What is this?" his eyes bounce between you and Heeseung, the obvious unfolding before him. His vision cuts to you, shock keeping his lips apart. "Are you serious?"

His arms fling upwards, fingers carding through his mess of curls as he spins hopelessly, grappling for reason. Heeseung casts you a sidelong glance, then the mess Jake's unravelling into. 

"You know her?" Heeseung asks, fingers retracting as he stands to his feet. 

Spun back Heeseung's way, Jake only directs his attention to him, wild eyes blinking fiercely as he stresses. "She's the girl I was talking about."

The girl..they were talking about?

They talk? 

A lot, it seems, as Heeseung turns to you with a look of horror. 

A boulder sinks to the pits of your stomach. 

"That's crazy because I was just─"

"I know what you were doing," Jake cuts him off, eyes swiftly on you. "To think I came here to…" 

The words burn in the fire of his building frustration, his groan dulling the distant sounds of the party as his hand swipes across the bottom of his face, jaw tight with tension.

You've never seen him this way, so pissed the shine in his eyes burns to ashes. Expression clouded with features so rigid they stir a mess of emotions in you. 

"Did you know?" he looks at you, appalled. "Did you know we were friends? Childhood friends, mind you. Was I just some plaything whilst you were busy with other guys? Were you screwing me around?"

"Jake," your head jerks back, stunned by his audacity. "We aren't dating," 

You continue despite the eerie silence. "I know we've…done stuff, but it was never, we were never…"

Dating. 

You might as well have sucked all the life out of the room, every figure unmoving as the party goes on, drunk students blissfully unaware of a different mess occurring metres away. 

"I asked you to be exclusive," he states, plain and simple. "I asked for his advice because I was so fucking scared but asked you anyways. Only for you say you weren't sure, that you'd think about it and give me any answer after our submission,"

His index finger gestures vaguely between you and Heeseung. "This your idea of thinking?" 

Perhaps your luck has ran out, exhausted by the good graces that kept coming your way for reasons of which always seemed unfair. That much is clear in the rolling horror film staring you as its main lead.

"Jake," Heeseung speaks for the first time, your lifted head spying the hands he braces against his friend's shoulders. "Let's relax, okay? We can solve this."

Jake does a wild blink at him, ignoring you. "What do you mean solve this? You think I can just say keep fucking her bro, I don't even care?" 

An amused huff gets out Heeseung's nose, laughter reeled back by the clamp of his lips. "No, that's not what I had in mind."

"What is?"

Heeseung's head turns to yours, then slowly Jake's. He's still mad, more wrecked than harbouring animosity. And Heeseung, he's unreadable as ever. Except when your pupils bounce between them, body curling into itself with a tremble, you sense it before you see it. 

The sharp edges of his smirk, the very same one you'd worn when Jake was putty in your hands. 

Shit. 

Misfortune looks a bit different this time round. 

In the four walls of some unfortunate's bedroom, you'd clutched the front of your top, deadset on the assumption that your luck had run out, that karma had finally coming knocking on your door. In the cat and mouse game you'd played with unlucky kills, you'd sold them a dream ─ shapeshifting into the affection they desperately wanted, sweet enough to get what you want and for them to never entertain anything else because they couldn't stand risk of losing you. And when a new, shiny toy came along or their feelings reached boiling point, the kiss of death awaited them, sugar-coated ending words all you could give before it was onto the next one. 

There's some questionable morality in it, sure, but no one comes out of this life unscathed. Preachers of holier than thou most yield the bloodiest hands of all and frankly, you screwing over men isn't a crime regarded with the utmost of significance. However, you do have a conscience and in the howls of night, it kept you awake deliberating if your own selfish needs preceded Jake's feelings because if you're honest with yourself, he didn't deserve this. He'd giggle light as air coming across the campus' roaming cat, specifically carrying treats in case he encountered the furry animal, enthusiastically nod along with the prettiest of smiles in the mass of bored lecture hall-bound students making lecturer feel worth while and he treated you well. Made sure you never touched a door and pulled out all your chairs, taught you the missing links of the software you didn't dare mastering and met everything you ever said with eagerness, even the most mundane of details no one else cared for.

If this was an AITA re-telling, screen split displaying someone's mindless Minecraft sprint, the comment section would be aflame with sympathizers. Coddling Jake and calling you the very blatant asshole you are.

Perhaps this is what assholes get, striped of their dignity, all your clothes in a sorry pile on the carpeted floor as Heeseung and Jake remain covered, nothing but sin and vengeance in their eyes. They've only lowered their trousers enough to reveal their cocks, painfully hard in your presence but never giving in to what you push your hips for, because really, you on all fours is nothing but gratification for them, you a mere means to an end. 

Funny how things change. 

"Should've known you were like this when we fucked in my car," Jake gruffs, a sigh produced as his flushed tip paints your lips in precome. As a reflex, your eyes flicker to his, tongue running over the trail in a motion that makes him groan, his cock wasting no time feeding into your mouth. "So dirty." 

Like he's one to talk. Because when Heeseung's suggestion is set in motion, he's all over you, the same song and dance, contrasted by the grain of possession and bottled resentment. His kisses are searing, prying the hunger out of you and when Heeseung sandwiches himself in the mix, hands fondling your nearly exposed chest, a firm grip holds your jaw in place, eyes blinking in a haze. Your vision catches up soon enough, watching as the knit between Jake's brows cements itself in the harsh spit he drops into your mouth, enough force to jerk your head back. Heeseung's finger flicks over your perked nipple, intensifying the moan echoed in the back of your throat. Jake witnesses it all, the twist of pleasure your features mould into and smiles briefly, wicked nonetheless before he proceeds to where you are now.

Behind you, Heeseung pulls out completely, a mewl around Jake's cock he croaks a rasped moan at. The same is mirrored by you as Heeseung traces your soaking entrance, marking it in a mixture of precome and your slick before he slides in again, your walls conforming to his generous size. 

"That was you?" Heeseung asks, an incredulous laugh mixed in with the smack of your ass. "Fucking in a car? How desperate are you?" 

An imprint sizzles against the flesh of your ass, muffled around the gag of your throat. "Must be plenty if you're moaning for cock like that."

If not for your busy mouth, you'd collapse under the weight of Heeseung's words, so deliriously wound by lust you can't see straight, muscles burning in your arms. The only thing you can muster is a poor gag, saliva dribbling down your chin as you peer upwards. Jake's still mad, his chest laboured with a rigid set to his once soft features, staring you down with an emotion only making your stomach churn. 

"Think I prefer her when her mouth filled. What you think, Jake?" 

He talks about you like you're not in the room, tears rippling down your cheek from their tight squeeze. In an instant, they flutter open, blinking rapidly from the force of Heeseung's thrust feeding Jake further into your mouth. 

"Yeah," he agrees, voice grounded in gravel as he gives you his dark eyes. "You'd think she'd respect herself enough to not let us do this." 

Brought to your knees, the degrading words do something funny to your brain, rewrite its chemistry and fire neurons long left dormant in the play you've busied yourself with Jake. You being the one in control, calling all the shots, only to meet your makers. 

"Poor girl's leaking over everywhere," Heeseung chastises, grip bruising on your hips as he fucks you within an inch of your life, desperate gasps for air coming out in gurgles around Jake's length, prioritising his release fast approaching. "Your greed knows no end, huh? That's why you've done all this. Couldn't be satisfied with one cock, had to choke on two,"

Molten lava's poured down your back, arching it in a deep bow only allowing Heeseung to reach deeper, the deepest part of you bruised with punishment, the kind that curls your toes and rolls your eyes back in ecstasy. The twist in your lower bell is weaved so violently, as tight as you feel and the release you're nearing feels too explosive for words, a hopeless claw hinging and falling off the material of Jake's trousers. 

Something like please is mumbled around Jake's length, tears clumping your lashes together as your only salvation is Jake, his figure haloed in the wrath of Heeseung's pistons, so persistent on ruining you from the inside out. 

"Jake," your neck cranes, a dire inhale taken as your lips detach from his cock, string of saliva connecting you to his tip. "Please, I can't─I'm gonna,"

The end of your sentence frays into a rasped moan, a particular thrust dealt to you rendering you a sack of bones, nearly melting into the pathetic puddle you currently identify with. Jake saves you the embarrassment, jaw in his hand as he props you up, your arms shaking with the rest of your body, taking on more bliss than it can handle. 

"Thought you wanted this, to have your cake and eat it too, no?" he relents, your jaw forgotten in the pursuit of his own orgasm, red-knuckled fisting his cock out the reach of your mouth. "You should be thanking us for going easy on you, you should thank me. Say it."

Timidity chooses now to intervene, the scorch of your cheeks incomparable with the palm smacked against your clit, a buck of your body curving it into half a circle as Heeseung laughs behind you, resuming his steady pace. 

"I'd listen to him if I were you," Heeseung suggests, words breathy as he nears his own orgasm, chasing it with the bounce of your ass. "Would improve your chances of coming." 

A slave to your own pleasure, your fingers curl in the duvet covers of another, line of sight finding Jake's. His lips are caught between his teeth, muffling the same broken moans you've become well acquainted with, the image furthering the twist in your belly as your eyes pinch together, letting shame swallow you whole. 

"Thank─"

The gesture dies there, intercepted by the long drawn out moan Jake emits, enveloping the hot room as he orgasms, your face his canvas as spurts of come catch onto your features. Your eyes close on instinct, come landing over the makeup you'd spent the better part of getting ready perfecting, now covered in Jake's act of a get-back, stooping you to the level you'd always regarded him with. It should flare some annoyance, some shred of offence, but in the clench of your walls, memorising every ridge and vein of Heeseung's cock still hitting all the spots that make you weak, you can only let out a gasp, disbelief huffing out your chest in a hollow laugh. Like the delirious chuckle you give, your tongue lolls out over your lips to lick remnants of come within reach. 

"Shit, I'm gonna come," Heeseung rasps behind you, grip firming on your hips as all your ears pick up on is the smack of skin, your breaths ragged as your arms crumble to the bed, giving in. Perched on the fold of your arms, your forehead braces, lungs expanding for oxygen you're pressed for, the fire alight in your body all consuming.

"I'll give you a present for your troubles. That's what girls like you like, right? Being filled with come?"

Rhetorical questions never yield answers and if you had one working brain cell, perhaps you could've conjured up a snarky reply, left the room with some semblance of dignity but again ─ if you're ruled by anything, it's your own selfish greed.

So, your legs flail in aimless kicks and circles, dulled ache in your jaw from its permanent extension as desperation flies out your mouth. 

"Pleasepleaseplease, please come in me," you wail, release close enough to taste. "You're gonna make me─!"

Your pathetic rambles are cut off by your own scream, unleashed from the depths of you where Heeseung notches himself one last time before he comes, satisfying your bottomless hunger as he paints your walls in white. Your orgasm rocks you beyond comprehension, body lapsing into convulsions, your figure slumping into the plush of the mattress when Heeseung pulls out, the remainder of his come painted across the expanse of your ass. 

You're left to shiver and shake, left to wallow in the consequences of your actions as your pressed chest attempts to sustain the aftermath of your body, eventually regaining it enough to lose its laboured rhythm. When you come to, your head lifts to survey your surroundings, finding Jake still there. Perched in front of you, having watched every moment of your undoing. 

You must still have some come smeared on you, deducted from the glide of his fingers gathering a sample from your cheek, offered centimetres from your lips. A pout is all it'd take for Jake to relent last, except this isn't like before. The tide's changed and as much as you feign some decency, it's of your volition when your lips pry again, digesting the come sample off Jake's fingers, tongue swirling along his fingers to not leave a drop behind. 

"You're fucked," Jake says, stating the obvious. There should be malice in his words, but you can't find any, none detected in the softened hue of his eyes, peripheral spying his fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop. "But you're ours now,"

He gets up to leave, a form of panic flaring in your chest at his departure and what ours mean. True to himself and you, he doesn't leave without the press of his lips to your forehead, a stray hair tucked behind your ear before he utters his last words. 

"See you tomorrow." 

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Downtown is abuzz, springtime bringing out lifeforms in their fullest, humans on a leisurely stroll and vampires in their element, nightfall cast to upheave the sluggishness of day, canines bared and timeless beauty arresting. On the way to your destination, a concrete jungle of scaffolding and pets on leashes, you stop at an intersection. Cars zoom, traffic lights ticking down until they turn green again. The road, a blur of cars would usually have your attention, if not for the huge billboard plastered above the pizzeria and jazz bar just ahead. 

Pearl Bite: A bloodless white, a perfect smile. 

Your own faux canines show, tongue run beneath their point as your eyes dazzle at the advert. Specifically, the creator and model for Pearl Bite ─ your one and only boyfriend. 

College sweethearts, Sunghoon describes your romance as a sneaky attack on your behalf, nothing but his passion on his mind, only to be derailed. The brilliance of your smile, the heartiness of your laugh, your endless glow he couldn't shy away from. The next century is meant to build upon his newly-found interest in dentistry, open his own practice with amassed generational wealth and give back to his community. His initial plan only accounts for vampires, at the mercy of many cycled conversations of blood-stained fangs and how there's no vampire-equivalent for teeth-whitening. Then he meets you, unknowingly opens himself up more to the human experience, recognizes how they can differ vastly from his own, yet share so many similarities. 

You're the most selfless person he knows, a long-line of people served before you're last in line. Amongst the juggle of others' needs and aspirations, yours kind of included somewhere, he learns you're a product of everything you've ever loved and suffered from too. In the months passing too quick for his liking - still toeing the line of friendship(ish) - you bare yourself to him in the late night diner you work at. 

The one he walks you home from, drinks the shitty coffee because you've brewed it. The things vampires do for love.

In a dim corner booth, your chin perches on your folded arms, fingers drumming against a table you're yet to clean and are honestly too tired to at this point. It's been non-stop shifts packed into a never-ending semester, and whilst your job's meant to supplement your means of living, it also serves another purpose. 

"I owe my mom everything," you start, the bat of your lashes turning Sunghoon into a statue, knowing what's to come yet unsure. Uncertain how to proceed. "No matter how little we had to our name, she always made sure I was taken care of. That if one of us was happy, it was always me,"

Your nose twitches, eyes glossy with a sigh coming from trembling lips. A vague crack sounds in his chest. 

He wishes his hand had the kind of warmth you'd lean into. 

"Losing her best friend, and in a way, losing me ─ has brought her to her knees," your fingers drum, pupils shaking as you will your tears to only exist before your waterline. "I'm doing as much as I can, but there's only so much to do from across the country. I can't check in on her and the house between lectures, I can't pay for anything medical other than some lousy insurance, I can't transfer that weight to myself,"

"Because at least then, it wouldn't be her burden to bear." 

The welled emotions in your chest demand you to straighten, more space for lungs to expand and when stray tears fall, you can only exhale, elbows propped to the table to wipe them away. Your hand falls to the surface in perfect timing, searing skin meeting a cool, steady palm. You're just as still as him, the thump of your heart felt in Sunghoon's fingertips, all the way through to his ears ringing with its race. Only empathy occupies him, remnants of a life before immortality tethering you two together by more than held hands, the quiet compassion he delivers sticking with you forever. 

Time has since passed, that corner booth a bittersweet memory. In spite of long-carried pain, you and your mom see brighter days ─ graduation, your first adult job, the return of her smile. Depression has a way of mystifying the future ahead of you, the present clouded in miserable, inescapable grey clouds. To push on takes all the more effort, so things start to give ─ sleep, appetite and the wither of everything else. While she's managed to pick herself up by the aid of you and others, your mom still holds a keepsake she'd rather do without. A dimmed smile you're doing your best to help restore. But in a household where annual doctor's trips are rare, the luxury doesn't come easy. And by the time you're examining what other expenses to cut back on, Sunghoon pitches his latest project. 

Pearl Bite, for humans and vampires alike. 

Endless trials, modifications, moulds that have bitten the dust and brave participants that bring his dream into fruition. Only now, his dream accounts for not only you, but your mother. Additional modules and clinicals to fit in the study of human teeth, revitalizing the last part of a past your mother is moving forward from. And when everything's said and done, your mother instinctively cowers from the mirror before she weeps, holding onto Sunghoon with a life force as gratitude soaks into his white coat. In the corner, his eyes find you, the water-lined tears in your eyes like then, now reflecting the kind of appreciation and love he knows is priceless. 

Pearl Bite takes off, his humble practice fighting to accommodate for the onslaught of patients he tries helping. People come from far and wide, all with a story that picks at their nails and prompts reluctance when it comes time for Sunghoon's inspection. Overbites, plaque, shaven-down fangs, blood stains ─ the list goes on. However, their reluctance is all but forgotten once he commits himself to their well-being, a sigh of relief filling his mask before he hands over what feels like a magic mirror, sorrow turning into happiness. One practice isn't enough, not for endless clients, or aspiring dentists with the same aspirations. Multiple dot themselves across the country, his time split between sights he flies to (your stomach still drops whenever both your feet leave the ground). He has a line of products, an alternative solution for those he cannot meet and to no surprise, it takes off. You climb your own career ladder, finding something just as meaningful and building your life together with the man who saved yours and your mother's smile. 

His practice bustles as it always does, a mixture of clients flipping through magazines or sharing stories in the waiting room. To his assistance, you wave, your presence always welcome when your schedules align. In the hall leading to his office, your head nods at more waiting patients, smile brimmed in manner with a glance at the clock. 

It's feeding time. 

A flutter in your chest disturbs the peace you've maintained for the day's majority, current sparked as your palm meets the door handle of his office, shallowly pulled to the side only to let yourself in. No one occupies the dental unit, spotlight tucked away with the space sterilised and clean, its sleek hues of white, grey and muted baby blue burrowing comfort in your chest. Attempts to slow the rabbit Sunghoon hears, a heartbeat so attuned to he forgoes his inventory count and goes to filter back into the main room, surprise alight in his eyes as he's urged back. 

"I didn't know you were coming," his voice carries the sentiment, the half-hearted draw of his inventory's door schemed behind you. 

Innocence brims in your smile nonetheless, arms strung around him as his hands fall to your waist, steady and firm. 

"You forgot your dinner."

"Dinner?" a lone eyebrow raises, the slope of his nose in full view as his head turns to the mini fridge metres away. "I should have enough blood bags for─" 

Your nails rake through his nape hairs once and for all, stepping back before you haul yourself on the counter space he'd been working so diligently on, showcasing the dinner he's seemingly left behind.

You. 

No one would bat an eyelash at the length of your skirt, a conservative length if not for an extra long stride ─ the cross of your legs ─ where skin reveals itself, blemishing with incessant teeth marks, beard burn and a mouth pulling into a disbelieving smile as you reveal yourself to him, making sure to crane your neck enough to hint at the location of his last feed. 

"So," mischief lives in the lines of your smirk, your own canines peeking through in an ask. "Will you finish what you started?" 

With centuries spent living amongst vampires and humans, you'd think Sunghoon would have some know-how. Predict the patterns humans have made of themselves, ingrained in wired DNA passed down from generation to generation. Yet, you always seem to surprise him. Bring the disbelieving and amused laughter out his huffing chest, his proximity drawn closer as his hands staple on either side of your thighs, skirt material bunched in your lap, goosebump-riddled from the arctic temperature of his office. 

His eyes burn with a dial of lust, iris colouring into a wine hue before his pupils swallows the field whole, gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. 

"This is risky," he notes, nosing along your jaw. The instinct to give your neck away wears him down more than you'll know. "Anyone could come in and see us. Hear us," 

He deserts the raised skin trail he's created from slight grazes alone, satisfaction on his lips as he creates space to marvel at the mess you're boiling down to. 

"But that's what gets you off, right?" his fangs show, his grin too amused and cocky to shield them, his head tilted to only emphasis his point. "Just can't keep your pretty moans to yourself." 

Air fills your lungs through a nasal inhale, chest slumping with a gulp audible to your own ears. You'd waltzed in here first, you can't lose control just yet. 

You bring yourself closer to the counter's edge, skirt riding up further to expose hints of lace, knowing it'll do nothing but torment him. Taunt him as his canine and lower teeth toy with an inner piece of his check, restraint tested.

"Come on, you haven't fed in days," he's standing straighter, hands off the counter. He's close enough though, the perfect distance for your leg to hook at his lower back and draw him in, your hand waiting before his length eventually throbs in your palm, your grin a work of sin as you peer up at him with dark magic eyes. "I know you're hungry." 

Control is commanded, and to some extent, Sunghoon submits. Lets you carry out your charade, allows the concept of power to exist in your frame of mind. However, deep down, you both know. Undeterred, Sunghoon lets you palm his growing erection, smirking like it doesn't turn him on. Like he doesn't give your hand one grind, starved for friction. 

His hand raises to outline the shell of your ear with his fingertip, pleased with the shiver erupting down your spine. 

"Funny how blood and sex are so intertwined," he leads, voice husky as his eyes fall to yours again, standing their ground. "For you, especially."

It's meant to be a call out. In some measure, you suffer from its consequences, prickly skin and heated cheeks. However, you've been with Sunghoon long enough to quit playing shy. You plan to spend eternity with him too, it's only natural you reward him with your honesty.

"It's another layer of intimacy," the sweetness of your words juxtapose your actions, palm firm against his shaft as your thumb glides over his tip in sweet, torturous motions, smile stretching at the waver of his breath. You cock your head, a call for attention. "Wouldn't you agree?"

He's close like this now, shuffled to you in a tighter circle of your hooked legs, the column of his throat licked. The grain of stubble against your tongue hums your pleasure into his skin, his own mirrored sound coming when your teeth nibble on the teased skin.

"Hmph," he groans, losing focus. Losing to you. "I do, but my mind can't help but wonder," 

Further words peaks your interest, Sunghoon's hand settling across your neck, face further away as he handles you for his viewing pleasure. His other set of knuckles push his glasses up his nose bridge, chin lifted as he looks at you through low eyes, the quiet but hard thump of your pulse meeting the pad of his thumb.

"If it's the euphoric high you're starved for," Sunghoon's thumb moves over the tender skin, thump gaining traction as you attempt withstanding his complete read of you. "Or maybe it's the slight pain," 

Through the time you've known Sunghoon, you've only ever known him to be humble. No matter what feat he reaches, trait or skill he posses and displays, he'll pretend as if it's not his own. Won't gloat, won't brag ─ except for times like these. 

When he's got you right where he wants, his fangs pinpoint on your skin between the fan of his thumb, your heartbeat the equivalent of being chased. 

You hear his smirk first before you see it, space created again as his eyes cannot be without your sight for too long. 

"Which one is it?"

The hand that'd been palming him arrests the counter's edge, knuckles burning white in an act of self-restraint. Control you're being frayed to abandon, a harsh run of your tongue on the back of your teeth as your other leg hooks behind him, nowhere to hide as your hip roll to meet his, a grind you see chipping away at him.

Pressure adds to the grasp on your neck ─ a test to you too. 

"Wouldn't you like to know." 

Again, that almost incredulous yet amused chuckle meets your ears, this time more mocking as Sunghoon's tongue pokes his inner cheek, his eyes bleeding over with an intensity you've only been anticipating.

"I'll find out either way," one corner of his lip lifts, small but all-knowing. "Spread your legs." 

The last thing you'll do is indulge him, even if your body aches for him in the worst way ─ bone deep, lust sinking in your body like an anchor. You're already pressed against him, the friction of few layers a blessing in disguise for someone as insatiable as you are. This, you can do with. The same can't be said for Sunghoon, who in the questioning look he gives you, your smile extends ─ a slice of heaven and a lot of hell. 

"What's with the attitude?" he chuckles, one last squeeze against the sides of your neck to make you squeak. The departures paves the way for his impatience, enough strength to pry your crossed ankles apart. "Didn't you want this all along? Treated the way you are in my office because you couldn't wait?"

You can't compete against an immortal, his strength bending your body to his will, thighs braced against the arctic counter top. Spread to his liking. 

"Ah, that's why," it's the second time in such little time you've heard him smirk, a more evil moon crescent shape to his eyes as he marvels between your legs. Specifically, the wetness that's soaked through the flimsy fabric. "It's okay, I want you just as much." 

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead, because your ego has its' moments, bruising like a peach. You could huff, turn away from the supposed affection he gives you, but he's quicker. A peck to the tip of your nose and happiness in the light chuckle he does afterwards. 

Then, when you're looking at him again, albeit reluctantly, he smiles regardless. Cups your cheeks, holding you as if porcelain and kisses you. Soft and pillowy, lingering to savour the simple press of flesh, a slow and sweet swirl back into desire. Melting in his cold grasp, you move in patterns known to each other, the audacity to start pulling away breathing a snicker between your lips, his smile against your lips after he's chased them, your own introduced moments later. 

He picks you apart in the most delicate way, undoing you with adoring kisses and assured hands, consuming you with every breath he steals, hands of desperation hinging themselves against his arms. Sunghoon kisses you as if it's your last, with deeper meaning coming from the lifetimes he's lived, your bottom lip between his teeth as he tugs gently. 

A move applicable to everyone. Doing its worst to you. 

While other teeth tease, his fangs threaten, a harsher skim against the flesh your breath hitches at, a swipe of his tongue meant to soothe, only to fuel the fire burning in you. 

While his hands no longer cradle your face, he kisses you without fault. Pouring affection into the tender overlap of lips, the only thing you manage to do is lift your hips as his hands tug your panties down your legs, tucked away in his back pocket as a souvenir. If you weren't so dazed, you'd make fun of him, like when you'd felt his cock kick when you'd started kissing, the venture of your tongue making him sigh a stuttered breath. 

Smacked lips and laboured breaths no longer only occupy the office/closet space, abundance of slick lapped up on the span of two fingers, the most piled on Sunghoon's fingertips as they tease your entrance, thumb doing slow circles against your clit. 

Fingers carding through his hair, your breath stutters in his mouth. Whines and huffed whimpers bleed into his kiss-stained lips as his fingers push in with no resistance, welcomed as your walls conform to their shape. He stretches you with the scissors of his fingers, the stretch simmering with a touch of discomfort, grinding down to blooming pleasure as you yield, his fingers 'curl pushed into the spot making you see stars. 

"Think I'll give your thighs a break," Sunghoon whispers, your tongue dipped into the curve of his lips. "All those hickeys and beard burn can't be good for you ─ too much friction," 

"N-not enough," you wail, running feverishly hot and without any care, bucking your hips helplessly. "Want ─ more." 

"I've made you such a greedy thing, haven't I?" he murmurs, humming at all the sounds you reward him with ─ vulnerable moans, sloppy kisses you try giving but it's no use. You're gone, in too deep to realise the moment you'd walked into his office, your fate had been sealed. 

Other points deserve attention, is Sunghoon's thought process as he leaves your lips with one last slow kiss, saliva strung between your quivering lips before he peppers his way down your chin, up the curve of your jaw and stops right below your earlobe. You know where he'll go next and it sends a buzz through your every cell, makes you tremble and shake. And before your brain can catch up to the signs, Sunghoon knows too.

Hears the chaos of your heart, the disarray of your pulse and plays along.

"Haven't even got to your neck and you're leaking all over my fingers," he muses, a peck smacked onto the dipped skin before his teeth catch onto the fleshy part, a fang punctured close to where your lone piercing is. An automatic response is relayed by your body. "Squeezing them for all their worth, huh?"

Lolled to the side, a partial part in purpose but the other because your head's swarmed in haziness, twice its weight from Sunghoon consuming you, his non-beating heart having the decency to not prolong your long-awaited ask. He descends, inches but makes his way with the tread of his teeth down your neck column. 

"What happened to that little attitude of yours, sweet girl?" he asks, the squelch and twitch of your body unearthing a rarity in condescending nature. "Did I fingerfuck it out of you, hm? You wanna be my good girl now?"

You nod hard enough to feel the jumble of your brain, cut up into pieces and free-floating in your zero-gravity headspace. 

"You know nods won't do," he's there. The exact spot he feeds from, and it's maddening. The release of adrenaline, the rabbit chase your heart does, nails scraping into marble. 

He noses along the mark, a momentary pause noting how gone he is for you too, intoxicated at the mere scent of your blood before everything crumbles, his willpower the only thing standing as he pries away, looking you in your eyes as he says, 

"Let me hear you say it, princess." 

"I'll─I'll be good," the words slosh in your mouth, lips pressed to muffle your desperate squeaks. "I just─just let me come please?" 

"I'm no animal," dark laughter licks up your spine, stuck in its slouch as Sunghoon's rhythm picks up, fingertips knocking deepest in you, your jaw pried open in silent surprise. "I couldn't deprive you if I tried." 

"Come on, sweet girl," he comes closer, fresh linen scent engulfing you as a kiss lays upon your temple. "The quicker you let go, the faster you get my cock." 

The quicker he'll feed. 

The mere thought is almost like magic, contracting your walls in an impossible squeeze as the coil in your stomach sizzles at the tips of your toes, shooting up to burst through every avenue ─ every pore ─ of your body. Detonating right in the palm of his hand, he kisses your wails away until they subside, fingers working you until you're twitchy and overly sensitive, glossy eyed yet itching to unbutton his slacks. 

"Impatience will get you hurt," is his later comment, letting you mess with the buckle of his belt, metallic clashes resonating through the room. Dripping more slick onto his office counter. "So rushed when you'll struggle taking me."

The last notch of his zipper sounds louder than the rest, your head snapped in his direction. "Now, that you can't mock me for," 

Your eyes drop down to the heavy bulge imprinting through his briefs and slacks, hoping his eyes follow along. 

"I take your literal monster cock like a champ, thank you." 

"Give or take." 

You kiss your teeth, knowing better but still cursing at him in your head.

"Whatever," your eyes roll, pushing enough of his waistband down to get your hand around his cock. Barely, but it's not of the essence. What is is the need his tip heats with, generous precome beaded in his slit your thumbs runs over. A hiss releases in spite of his efforts, met with the cockiness of your grin. "You're the one who needs me here," 

"Blood bags only taste so good," you drawl, pulling him out to get a better handle of his length. Head ducked to dribble spit on his skin as makeshift lube, enveloped by your palm in a mixture with precome as your hand comes up and twists up his veined shaft. Now it's his turn for braced hands on the counter's edge, his grip strong enough to snap the marble in two. The thought ignites lightning in your stomach. 

Your mouth gets the chance for payback ─ hovering over the shell of his pointed one, a lapsed breath released in the anticipation of your words. The slow, tight jerk of your hand. "And none can get you off, so…" 

A huff of defeat ─ still humoured ─ sounds past your shoulder, Sunghoon's back muscles flexing through the white coat ruffling as he pushes off the table, hair slicked back back as his fingers run through dark strands, his pale features accented with a pretty rosy tint. 

Lips swollen with kisses. Skin glittering in the low light.

"You're annoying," his hands swats away yours, his focal point you as your figure reflects in the honey sweet hue of his eyes. "I love you." 

"Love you t─ah!"

Sunghoon had knocked your knees further apart, lined himself with your entrance and now, starts to slide his length in. Ever since your last orgasm, you'd hinged on his counter for the moment his cock would stretch you out, but even if your eyes blindly followed his shifts, you'd got lost in his confession. The sheer honesty and sincerity brimming in his eyes as he said so, his last words to you before you reconnect again as one. 

A frantic hand jumps to secure yourself on one plane of his shoulder, a sharp inhale sucking in all frigid air of his office into your shaken lungs, the bitten back moan he lets slip flooding the glide of his length, inches sparingly used. Yet the thought of being split open remains alive and well. 

"You're good, you can take it." 

It's one of his sentences that doesn't reek of condescension, the kind of sugary encouragement you can't help but want to do your best for, relying on your practiced methods of breathing and trying to relax. Except to accommodate to his size, you're gripping and adjusting, depleting his ability to be gentle with you. In the adjustments you make, one sentence lurks in the misty halls of his mind as he only gives as much as you can take, a hand and grazed-thumb on your hip to ground you. 

"What I'd do to stuff your hole full of me right now…"

Luckily, he doesn't have to do anything. Living up to your words, the inches continue to disappear, the sorest sight for his centuries-vision filled eyes, shoulders coming down in relief with a mouth ajar. Your hand's over the lower half of your stomach, not exposed by your shirt, but Sunghoon knows. 

You feel him there. 

"Remind me," he huffs, stalling for your adjustment, the stretch as delicious as it is a dance around torture. "You take what like a champ?"

Sunghoon gets a kick out of it, this you already know. Somehow, it still makes your jaw tick, the weight cramped in you, making friends with your lower stomach is colossal, enough for an eye twitch and a sharp head turn in his direction.

"Your cock," every word spoken has a letter with a centre part, the disapproving head shake you do continued as your hips shift, leaking tip grinding up into the spongy spot you keen at. "Now move, before I fuck you." 

Sunghoon's sorely mistaken. Painfully hard, yet he still continues ─ cat and mouse game too good to give up. 

"All bark, no bite," he muses, eyes in false moon crescent, hips pulling back to offload the fill of your entrance. "Leave that to the real vampire, huh?" 

Of course he'd leave you with that. Provide you some relief before he eases back into you again, grin shit-eating but eyes attentive, making sure this is pleasurable for you, to which it becomes. Accommodation is never easy, no matter how frequently you fuck, but he makes every grit of your teeth worth it. Falls into slow deep breaths you unknowingly follow and unwind with, moves his cock in and out at any pace you're comfortable with kisses you through it all, praises seared into the skin his lips meet.

A tempo builds, meek whimpers whispered into the hollow of his neck now barely contained moans. Your arms form a loose circle around his shoulders, the groans and whines he saves for your ears swirling a sickening pit of lust in your stomach.

"If only─hmph," you struggle, nails pressing into the fabric of his coat. "You put your mouth to better, fuck ─ use."

Past your ear, his laugh is bright. "You're bewitched,"

The smack of his pelvis against the back of your thighs teases your own teeth into his shoulder, whimpers releasing instead. 

"Are my fangs all I'm good for?"

Turns out, you have your own timing. Comedic timing, it seems, because when you pry from him, mourning the loss of his cool skin, your eyes peer down between your legs. At the cock he uses with you as priority, a simmered sensation you unwind to, wetness drenching his length as the faint bulge of his tip makes itself known. 

"You're good for other things too."

"Unbelievable," you hear your partner laugh, light and breathy because he's so fine-tuned to the human experience, large hands setting themselves up firm against your hips. "Now, if you will, let me do for what I'm good for."

Like you've always known him to be, he prides himself on his craft, making good of his word as he starts pistoning into you, the grind of his pelvis notching against your clit to make you squeal, his shoulders fastened to as the back of your thighs echo with your indecency. You're choking on moans, trying to keep noise to a minimal, but how can you when your vampire boyfriend knows you best? Knows what angle generates current in your body, what pace has you doubling over, holding him because the building pleasure is too immense for how contained your body feels? Knows when to flip the switch with you, the grounding presence you need or the kind that presses you into the ground. 

"My perfect girl," he murmurs, a soothing hand cascading down the back of your head. "I'll never get over how good you feel." 

He isn't the former for long, sheep's skin shed when your eyes start glossing over, legs hooked round his waist with your toes curled, tears of ecstasy saturating his coat's shoulder. How can he when you're basically offering yourself to him, enough distance created for your hands to support you from behind, neck craned for his taking. 

"Is this what you're into?" he asks, the outline of his body unfair under layers of clothing as his cock stuffs you full. "Do you fantasize about being feed on because you feed off the pleasure and pain?" 

You could consider his question, answer truthfully wherever it lies. However, you're a bit preoccupied. The one or two things he's good for working against you, reducing you to a worthless pile of mush, the same matter made of your brain, melted and spilling out your ears, hearing stifled. 

"Answer me." 

Your throat works, suddenly so dry with a swallow for saliva to quench some thirst, vision fuzzy as you fight off the impending doom. 

Not now, not yet. 

"Yes," you respond. "I'm into it because─" 

He notches himself with a particular force, one you do a withered whimper at, pupils shaking as they blow over your iris' ring. 

"Because it's with you," your hand's on his jaw, holding him firm as you add on. "I have a you fetish." 

"Fuck," there's a hitch in Sunghoon's thrusts, a slight hiccup when he disintegrates at your words, head hung only to come back up with the brightest smile on his face. The one you could spend eternity looking at. "You're such a tease." 

"A pretty, sloppy, needy─" emphasis in his stupidly seductive tone matches with the brute of his thrusts, concentrated and attuned to what'll make you break. "─tease." 

Against your forehead, his own falls, a kiss shared as his low body temperature attempts to dial back yours, the coil in your stomach too hot for you to function.

"Good thing you're close because I am too," he nods, one last kiss before he asks. "Do I have the honours?"

It's one of the easiest yes' you'll utter. 

"Always." 

What you could compare the initial seconds of Sunghoon feeding from you to is a piercing. The clamminess of your palms, an escalated heart rate even if you'd mentally prepared for the moment and eyes incapable of focusing. To gain it back, your only function boils down to managing your breaths as anticipation itches beneath your skin.

Then, it happens. 

A momentary flicker of pain, sharpened enamel piercing through skin and sinking, nestling where no vitals are endangered. It's minor, so minor it's forgotten the second after it's felt, the burst of euphoria incomprehensible. Words fail to explain the phenomenon, amounting to a standard you're on a constant chase for, bewitched as Sunghoon so lovingly puts it, him just the same ─ if not worse off ─ as he shamelessly moans at the taste, the vague waft of blood's metallic scent replaced with the blanket of his linen scent. 

Blood and sex are so intertwined, mentioned previously by Sunghoon. And while he'd said this in response to you, the words ring truest for him, a broken moan vibrating into your skin as his hips start rutting, erratic as he surges towards his orgasm. His priority forever and always, he wedges his hand between your bodies, your clit played with to bring you to a similar pace, something like come coating your walls as you squeeze his cock one last time, a cry from your lips before you come undone. 

Eventually, he relents, having had his fill with a pry he holds your body up for, still dazed from the aphrodisiac-like remedy in his venom to seal your skin together. When the world stops moving in separate circles, you catch sight of his fangs, coated in the rich crimson of your blood, only having the energy for a lazy smile before he sorts you two out. An eventual knock echoes at his door, Sunghoon spitting the last of Pearl Bite toothpaste out his mouth, fangs like brand new as you two feign normalcy. 

Like he hadn't fed from you, or how his vampire-equivalent to come isn't leaking between your crossed thighs. 

Just another day at Sunghoon's practice. 

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Self-sabotage must bloom from within you. 

Sprout and sow its roots into you, slow and steady, unsuspecting with a growing sinisterness blamed on something else ─ discipline scarcity, forgetfulness, an unseriousness you'd made more of a joke than stated, your laugh hollowed in its tail end as the weight of consequences push against your chest, crushing ribs and whistling wheezes. You wouldn't say it's terribly detrimental, some of your greatest life lessons are learned through your least loved trait. Life goes on anyways, whether you're your best friend or worst enemy and in those lulls, Jungwon remains stable. Unwavering. Much like he is now, as you tremble under his weight. 

He's one of your life's nicest surprises ─ unexpected, serious and with a heart like no other. It makes your brain stutter, lashes batted in increments because what warrants this? You're trudging through life, changes here and there made for your betterment but up to no standard of your own. Not that you're undeserving of him, but at least what you'd read in fictional tales and romantic poems, you thought you would've met him at a better place. In a better version of you, the one that doesn't need body doubling to get anything done, the kind of person who doesn't blank when asked about who they are, what they like. They're all too big of questions, ones you have answers for but somehow feel like don't fit into conversation ─ like they belong to a former life of yours, or deserve no platform at all. With time, and in no time at all, Jungwon fills in the blanks. Draw conclusions of you ringing too close to home, a prickle of unnerve at your nape for your fear of perception. Yet, you yearn. Yearn for love and to be seen, even in the dark crevices of yourself and in true Jungwon fashion, he loves you through it all. 

Doesn't mind the clutter when things get bad, when your joke's fall flat or the glossiness of your eyes coming with an impending burst of your chest. Unconditional is the love he holds for you, a something that cannot be revoked or misplaced by over-thought actions or a lack of words. Pressure conjures in his palm, soft yet heavy against your hand's back, a wobbled corner of your lips lifted given before another hand swallows the back of your head, your face burying into his chest. A metallic taste decorates your palate, teeth sunk into your bottom lip in a mask of your wails, a poor attempt if anything before the dam breaks. 

You could say you find yourself in a similar situation now. That same too-big feeling in your chest, lungs burning with the breath you forget to take with a vision becoming blurry. It's overwhelm ─ less horrific, with the beginnings of pleasure as you let out a winced whimper, lips clamped into a pale after. 

"Look at how good you're doing," Jungwon coos, love in his eyes while they hang low, glued to where you connect. "How perfect you are taking me." 

Sheets ruffle, a muffled moan at your throat's back before you pant in desperation, a simmered sting in your eyes and between your legs as Jungwon feeds inches of himself into you. Knuckles burn white, your dropped chin futile in your chanced look down below, unsure how much more length you can take before you're split open.

The inches grind to a halt, a burial to your hilt that has your teeth baring, a keen chocked back whilst your body burns furnace levels hot. Your ears ring like church bells, eyes blinked purposely to clear your vision's haze as your body adjusts to his size, clenching and squirming to his detriment. 

He's gracious about it ─ as he is everything ─ not fucking into you like some rapid beast kept away in his chest. The lid of cement contains it, some cracks and frays but nothing sizable enough to hurt you. 

Not in any way you wouldn't like, of course. 

All glossy eyed with a pant that doesn't cease, your voice finds its sound, vocalise your affirmations accompanied by a nod and with a short pause, a double check for your welfare, Jungwon moves. 

He groans, you whimper. Your toes curl with all the lust pooled in your stomach pushed to clog your throat, a feeling of fullness your body doesn't recognise but clings to, even in a dull seethe of pain, reaches out for hints of ecstasy. The more he moves ─ draws his hips back, slick echoing off four walls and announced when he plunges back in ─ the more it's accessible. The more you live for it, back of your head rolling against a pillow's plush as a galaxy dances across your eyes, your moans louder than your ears' rushed blood. 

"Aren't you lucky that I'm the one to ruin you and no one else?" Jungwon offers, tone bathed in that lick of condescend you clench at. The grin's shit-eating on his face as he feels the inevitable squeeze, a harder jut of his hips a crack in his composure. He collects, then carries on. 

"I took my sweet time with you too, made you come thrice on my fingers before you felt brave enough." 

Shadowed in the lowlights of your bedroom, his body magnetizes closer to yours, fingers undoing your duvet grip and weaving his with yours. All with hips at an impossible angle, one that feels like more inches you've had to accommodate for, friction burn on your heels as they glide hot against the duvet, body too small for his dispensed pleasure. 

"Tell me," the whisper dances in your ears, bottom lip grazed against the flesh with a slight labour to his breath. It's the single most erotic thing you've ever heard. "Is it worth it, princess? Feeling me in all the way in your stomach?" 

"Y─" you choke on enthusiasm, the tears in your eyes pushed past their waterline and down your warm cheeks, lips squeaking out the obvious. "Yes." 

"Aren't you sweet?" you hear his smile before seeing it, his face hauntingly beautiful as his pelvis hits the back of your thighs again and again. It spins your head dizzy. "Even sweeter when you're crying for me,"

A kiss bestows the skin of your cheek, a stripe against its warmth as he licks your tear away. All before his fingers squeeze against yours in a sequence of three ─ I. Love. You.

A sob hurtles out your throat, contained in the cross of moans pouring out in generosity, the piston of his hips, feel of his skin and cycle of his breaths making a mess of your body and mind. 

"It's okay, baby," his fingers untwine, the hover of his chest not as imminent while his body heat vacates, your legs handled and propped to the stretch of his shoulders. "You know nothing but pleasure with me." 

And you do. Even with its beginnings of pain, all nothing but a vague memory as he folds you, your thigh's flesh braced to your chest as his bodyweight bares into into their back. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you become untamed, voice's volume foreign to your ears as he chases you off a cliff, his thrusts pushing your head off the pillow and into your headboard. It smacks, your bed creaks, crying with the overwhelm you feel, body with no choice but to suffer the consequences of your actions. Your insistence that you can take it. To your credit, you do, but to an undoing of yourself you cannot overwrite. Ruined by him for anyone else and you wouldn't have it any other way, your tears kissed away before Jungwon's lips find yours, a kiss of death as your orgasm explodes through the cells of your body. 

What crosses your mind once the fog clears, when your body's back on Earth and you're more human is that you wish you watched. Saw the tip of him signal beneath your lower stomach's skin, the rosy flush fill the shell of his ears, the growing desperation Jungwon really can't hold back with you before he ruts into you. Letting go, giving you his everything. 

You wish you could've seen it all. 

Lucky for you, your boyfriend is nothing but willing. A cautious look given before his eyes widen at your legs linking around him, crossing at the small of his back. He laughs then, breathy and low-toned, licking arousal up your spine before he goes again, the feeling of fullness less thought of as self-sabotage and more like love.

thank you for reading! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

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