lys

You shut the book in your hands, gently setting it down in your lap. The words on the weathered pages started to lose their meaning as you finally gave up on reading.

Repetitive melodies and the quiet murmuring of lyrics from the man sitting a few feet away made it nearly impossible to focus.

He had assured you it wouldn’t be too loud in the studio tonight as he practically begged you to come sit with him while he worked on new music.

Michael made a habit of it— asking you to join him for brainstorming sessions. He once teased that you were his greatest muse.

He was extremely private, never directly involving you in his writing or recording process. Most of the time you would simply sit in the room with him while he worked. You’d thumb through a book and let the incomplete tracks and rhythmic tune of his voice act as background music to your reading.

Tonight was no different. He was focused on the notebook in front of him; sticky notes and scribbles littered the pages. The same melody filled the air over and over again as he hummed along with different words, each one acting as a piece to the never ending puzzle of his next album.

The weight of your book sunk into your lap as you let your back rest against the cushion behind you. Your lids felt heavy and your mind was foggy with sleep as you began dozing off.

“Sleepyhead.”

The familiar voice carried to your side of the room, lulling you out of your slumber before you could completely drift off.

You opened your eyes just enough to see Michael turned around in his chair, facing you with a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

“Well forgive me, I didn’t realize you’d be working well into the early morning hours when you invited me to tag along.” Your sarcasm only made his grin widen.

He watched you for a minute, a small giggle fighting its way past his lips.

“C’mere” He motioned you over to him with a slight tilt of his head toward his notebook.

“I need your opinion on something.”

His voice was soft against the quiet of the room, and a smile still stained his lips as he turned back around to face the array of sticky notes plastered on the surface in front of him.

You stretched from the couch, closing the distance between you and Michael in sleepy strides.

You stood next to him, following his gaze to the words written on the notebook below.

He sat in his chair, fingers tracing the lines of lyrics in front of him.

“Which do you like better?”

Without even looking at you, he began playing the unfinished track that you’d been hearing all night.

You listened to his voice as he sang the first string of lyrics written in his notebook, watching as the written words flowed so effortlessly off the paper and into the room to the tune of his voice.

He played it twice, each time singing a different set of lyrics, both similar yet somehow entirely different.

You leaned down, peering at the two different options written on the page, Michael still humming softly next to you.

As you studied them, you felt the warmth of his palm rest at the base of your spine.

Michael was no stranger to physical touch— not with you.

He was obsessed with having his hands on you, even in the most innocent ways.

He was constantly reaching for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his; always wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“I think I like the first one.” Your stare was still fixed on the notebook below, as your body angled further over his.

“It feels right.” Your mind was still sleepy as you gave your final verdict.

The room fell silent for just a few seconds, and you felt his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your lower back— tender and soothing.

“It feels right.” His voice was a delicate chuckle as he repeated your words into the nearly empty room.

“First one it is.” His words still held a subtle giggle.

With one hand on your back, the other reached for a pen as he wrote a few more words in his notebook.

He looked up at you, admiration in his gaze and that same sweet grin on his lips, “Thank you.”

His hushed words were simple, yet laced with an abundance of gratitude and love.

The gentle devotion in his voice and the careful touch of his fingertips along your spine sent you leaning down further as you placed the softest kiss on his cheek.

“Anything for you.” Your response met him with the same adoration.

You lingered like that, staring at one another. Smitten smiles nestled into your cheekbones, faces only inches a part.

“Yeah, you mean that?”

Michael’s tone shifted ever so slightly. There was a certain playfulness in the way he spoke; the question tucked behind a veil of mischief.

You loved this side of him; when his quiet, gentle demeanor was replaced with something more light hearted and whimsical.

You murmured a quiet, “mhmm” nodding your head and leaning in even closer, this time just barely pressing your lips against his.

It was a quick, gentle kiss, but it was enough to cause Michael’s hand that was once at your back to snake around your body, lightly grabbing your waist and pulling you against him.

Your body responded to his touch, sinking down into his lap, your legs straddling his and your hands cupping his jaw.

This time the kiss shared between you was much deeper, and it was impossible to miss the way he smiled ever so slightly against your lips.

His hands gripped your waist pulling you completely against him. Your lips moved in harmony; a whirlwind of hunger and affection as you melted further into his touch.

You began trailing kisses toward his jaw, under his ear, down his neck…

Each touch of your lips on his skin was determined and methodical— your actions ruminating in the passion radiating between you.

Soft hums fell from his lips as his fingertips tightened at your waist, fighting the urge to guide your hips against his.

You continued peppering kisses to his skin

down

down

down—

Your mouth was dangerously close to his collar bone when you felt one of his hands loosen from your hip.

He was reaching behind you, grabbing the pen from beside his notebook and jotting something down on one of the ink filled pages while your lips were busy on his neck.

“michael…” you sighed in defeat as your face fell into his shoulder.

“Hold on, hold on,” his words were a breathless hush as they spilled from his lips.

You buried your head deeper into the crook of his neck, your giggle muffled against his skin.

You sat there for a moment soaking in the warmth of his chest against yours. Letting him scrawl out whatever idea just came to him.

The song came in. The piano sharp. The rhythm unnatural, with the drums leading through. The atmosphere settled in instantly and it was like you were transported into a movie. 

Michael stood there, looking at the camera, in character like he never was before. Once his time hit, his co-star turned around and, afraid of what he had become, he transformed into the monster that the song was about. 

He wasn't that shy kid who lived next door to you. The one who called every night just so he could hear your voice. The one who liked animals and cared about the environment like nobody else. 

He wasn't your cute little Mikey anymore. 

He was him. 

The Michael Jackson. 

He stepped forward, mouth dropping open, his dancers following behind him like parasites. They did the big dance break that everyone on set stopped and watched like they were witnessing the first moon landing. 

Everyone couldn't look away— Or rather, they didn't want to look away. 

"'Cause this is Thriller!" He shouted, snapping his body to the side for emphasis. "Thriller night!" 

Michael was doing things that had never been done before. 

He put his all into it, swiftly hitting his moves and mouthing the lyrics to the song perfectly.

You almost couldn't recognize who he was. 

"Anndddddd cut!"

The cast screamed and jumped, clapping and sending compliments to everyone at how incredible that was. Some of them patted and tugged Michael around, expressing their admiration, all while he did the same. That big goofy smile on his face. Others pumped their fists and hollered like their favorite football team won the Superbowl. 

And finally, Michael was only focused on you. 

Once everyone settled down, going into their well deserved break, he came over to you, sweat beading down his face. He was breathing hard but his smile never wavered. 

"W-What did you think?"

You blinked, looking at him like you'd seen a ghost. 

He'd never seen this type of expression before, and he worried that it meant you didn't like it— or worse, you hated it. 

"You…" you paused, not adding anything after. Frozen in shock. 

"…you?" He repeated, snapping his hands in your face to grab your attention. "Hello? Anybody up there?" 

"You…" you said again, in that same unsettling tone. 

Maybe the video was so bad you couldn't fathom it. 

"Was it that bad? Please tell me that wasn't bad? We can redo it if you think so? I think I missed a few steps—"

"N-No!" You jumped forward, getting off of the chair. You cleared your throat , raising a hand. "N-No— Michael, that was— that was incredible!" You couldn't catch your breath. "The costumes, the theme, the music— a-and the dance? The way you moved your body and slipped into the scene was absolutely amazing!" 

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Sore but easily ignored. "You really think so?"

"I know so!" 

He laughed softly, grateful for your positive words. "I'm glad. Didn't really care about everyone else's opinions, yours was the only one that mattered." 

"Flattery gets you nowhere," you teased. "Once again, I'm terrible at criticizing things—" 

"Yeah, but I want it." 

You both looked at each other, a blanket of warmth covering you both. 

You were surprised when he asked if you could come, another project he was planning and needed a second opinion on. Like always, you didn't think your words mattered, the field of music not your expertise. But he promised donuts— as much as you wanted to eat on set, and you couldn't pass that up. 

Getting on the plane was another thing. The ride was bumpy, the sky in full view, the clouds right there, and it felt incredibly odd to see it so close. It was your first time flying, but to Michael it was another day. Although you were terrified, assuming the worst, Michael told you that as long as he was by your side you could breathe. 

"Take deep breaths," he said in that calming tone. "Follow me. In and out."

And you did.

In the middle of the ride, you were relaxed with your head resting on his shoulder. The fear melting away. 

You weren't sure what to name what you two had. If it was a mutual understanding or two people who happened to fall in place at the right time— but something was there, and you both couldn't hide it. You found something in him that you couldn't quite grasp, like he was meant to be in your life. Finding him felt like destiny, and somewhere along the way, your hands found each other too. 

Late night calls, letters, twister time— it all felt like you both were growing into each other and there was no way to pull you both apart. 

You become familiar with his home and him. All of his hobbies and love for life. All of the things that could make or break him. Although you got a hint of what life was like behind closed doors, you never once talked about it unless he wanted to. 

He liked that about you. 

While others would have dug for the facts and showed the world that he wasn't as perfect as he hoped he would be, you took what you knew and let it simmer into tales that didn't need to be remembered because who were you to tell him how to handle his feelings and life? He was human, just like everybody else. 

Nothing else mattered. 

"Wanna see something?" He asked, a smirk playing along his face. Even while he was breathing hard, he still had energy to get into mischief. You've known him for so long, whenever he asked that, that never meant anything good. 

You looked behind him and around the set, nobody paying attention to you both. "Aren't you supposed to be taking a break? Gathering your strength and waiting for the next scene—"

"This is me taking a break." He gestured with his hands, showing off how he wasn't doing anything but standing really. "Come on, I wanna show you something."

Remembering the script; movie theater, street location, large scary house. You were pretty sure he was going to take you to part of the film you told him explicitly you didn't want to see. 

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," He said, ending it with a wink that looked more like he was blinking with both eyes. 

"Is it the big scary house?"

"What?!" He gasped, holding his chest. "No— why would I take you there? You think because I goof around all the time I would take a young woman to a scary place and put her life on the line? Are you insane—"

The look you gave him made him drop the act instantly. 

"Yes it's the big scary house," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "It'll be quick. Promise. I just want to show you something." 

"No, you're gonna take me inside, run away, and pop out from the dark to scare me." 

"You really think so lowly of me?"

"Yes, actually." 

"Few minutes, that's it. And then you can go back to being boring and eating twenty donuts per second ." 

"Hey!" You smacked his arm, earning a hard whimper to leave his mouth. "You promised me donuts! So I'm going to get donuts!"

"You'll get fat—"

You smacked his arm again, harder this time, and he backed away, holding his arm like you wounded him. "Ouch! Can you stop that!"

"I'm not going," you stated and stood on it. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think they put out fresh ones—"

He grabbed your hand swiftly, your eyes popping open and with surprise strength he ran for it— tugging you behind him without letting go. He laughed through it all, listening to you scold him, screaming and kicking for him to let you go, and that this wasn't funny at all. 

But he didn't care, and despite your protest, you still followed behind him. 

He lead you towards the next scene, a few feet away from the big dance break section. It was darker, the set meant to be spookier than everything else. It reminded you of the Michael Myers house or the Texas Chainsaw house— those types of movies where nothing good happens and it always ends in death. 

He dragged you up the stairs, nodding at a few crew mates who were putting the last finishing touches to the house. Painting some dark scratches and scraps, adding more plants, fixing anything out of place before the Final Cut. 

"Michael! Let go!"

"We're almost there, sit tight and stop complaining." 

He opened the door, pulling you inside into the heart of the house and finally let go. A little too proud of himself, even while you gave him the darkest frown possible. 

"Pretty neat right?" He showed off the set, pointing to everything. "It's an abandoned house anyways but they made it even scarier by adding these cool touches." He walked over to the couch that was covered with a sheet, not ready to be used yet. "Everything is fake but it's pretty cool right?" 

"Yeah… cool," you gulped, looking around the room. It was darker inside, the only true lighting coming from the cracks of the windows. You didn't like how quiet it was, eerily reminding you of the Exorcist, the creaks sounding from under your footsteps. 

"Don't start shaking yet, it gets better—"

"Better?" 

"Duh, there's something upstairs—"

"Michael can we go now?" You didn't want to entertain his theatrics. 

He raised a brow. "But you just got here?"

"I know, I think this is—" you couldn't find the right words that didn't fall into you being a party pooper. "— nice." You guessed that worked. "But you know I don't like any of this—"

"So?" 

He didn't see the issue. 

"So? I'm scared! What if he comes out and tries to kill me !"

"Who's going to come out and kill you?"

"Michael Myers!" 

"Michael Myers?" He snorted. "From that Halloween movie? The one with the mask and the jumpsuit?" He chuckled lowly, "Oh please, he's not real."

You hugged yourself, finding that it was getting cold. "How do you know that?"

He looked at you like you were crazy, a big dopey smile on his face that showed nothing but teeth. "Uhhh," he pointed to himself. "Cause I'm the only Michael here," He laughed, holding in his stomach, now realizing how funny it sounded coming from his mouth. "Get it? Cause we share the same name. Michael Myers, Michael Jackson— we're both Michael." He fell onto the couch, kicking his feet. 

You didn't laugh. 

In fact, you were close to strangling him. 

"You're not funny," you sucked your teeth. 

"Come on, that was a little funny." 

You squeezed yourself tighter, ignoring how childish he was being and walked off. You didn't bother checking if he followed— to be honest you didn't care. You heard him call for you, pleading for you to come back but you didn't stop, continuing around the house. 

You knew it was fake in a way, but horror wasn't your favorite genre. You hated snakes, spiders, long dark hallways that probably held ghosts or far worse. 

You walked into what looked like the kitchen, surveying the details and creative touches that must have taken months to do. 

You didn't hear Michael's excessive laughter anymore. 

You looked back, the lighting too dark to tell if he was walking around. You didn't hear anything but your own footsteps, your breathing slowly turning harsh in the kitchen. 

Quickly, you jotted back to the living room, finding nobody there. The couch still there, the outline of Michael's movements imprinted in the oversized blanket that rested over it, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

You knew this would happen. 

"Okay, you can come out now. I know you're hiding somewhere," you said, looking around the room. "I know your trying to scare me and I don't find it funny. Like, at all." 

Nothing. 

You took a step back, your feet stepping on a creaky floorboard and you felt dread wash over you. 

"Michael?"

It was silent. 

You walked to the front door, reaching to twist for the knob, but a heavy thud stopped you, the sound coming from upstairs. 

You knew better than to investigate , reminding yourself that every character who went towards the noise was never to be seen again. You focused back on the door knob, turning it , but it wouldnt budge.

A cold chill ran down your spine. 

You shook and jerked the knob, chewing your bottom lip in fear. You thought Michael was going to pop out and scare you, not lock you in the house! 

"Hello! Is there a crew member here! The door is locked!" You shouted, rattling the door.

You turned and dashed to the kitchen, the back door your next exit but it was locked too. 

You used your shoulder, the wood hurting you more than breaking through, and you quickly turned to run back to the front door. Hoping that somebody might walk back— 

There was a dark figure standing in the middle of the hallway, stock still, like it was waiting for you to come closer. 

You didn't move. 

You only stared. 

Frankly, you were close to pissing your pants. 

"Mic—….M-Michael? Is that you?"

He didn't move. 

"Hey… this isn't funny anymore," you said nervously. 

He didn't move, standing in the dark like a ghost. 

"O-Okay, you got me." You didn't like how still he was. "Michael can we go— you're scaring me…" You stepped back, the creak in the floor vibrating against your skin. And you felt a cold hand touch your shoulder, big and large— the type of size that Michael Myers would definitely have and you did the next best thing. 

"Boo—oof!"

You punched him, sending your arms around, your knuckles colliding with his jaw sideways. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and fell straight on his back like a sack of bricks. 

You gasped first, covering your mouth with both hands. You noticed the red jacket, the curly hair, and you felt your heart drop, afraid that you had knocked him out. "M-Michael?!" You quickly got to your knees, helping him turn over to assess the damage. 

He was holding his jaw with one hand while rubbing his back with the other, his costume still good but his back was hurting…And maybe his jaw too. He didn't know a girl could punch that hard. 

"It's like Muhammad Ali possessed you," He groaned, "I think you broke my jaw." He shook his head, "and my back."

"A-Are you sure?" You leaned in closer, cradling his face with your hands. You turned him to face you fully, tilting his head to check the wound. You didn't see any noticeable bruising, so that meant his muscles were sore for sure. 

"Yeah, I won't be able to eat for a while— or sing! I'll probably starve, then that means my career is over—"

"Shut up." You touched his face again but he didn't flinch. "If you can run that mouth of yours, then that means your fine." 

He set his jaw, trying his best not to crack a smile. "You know I can sue you right?" 

"Sue me and I'll tell the whole world that I think Prince is a better singer than you."

The way his face contracted, you would have thought his body had shut down. His mouth dropped open, eyebrows strangled together, he was deeply offended and you know it. 

"Prince? Better singer? That's worse then the broken jaw!" 

"I told you not to scare me," you scolded, brushing your thumbs over his cheek. "Now you're threatening to sue me! I should leave you here to rot!" Before you could get up, irritated all over again, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back down with him. 

"Let go—"

"Hey, come on. I'm sorry," he said, rubbing his fingers over yours, interlocking them last. "You're not really mad at me, are you?"

You weren't, not fully, but seeing how worried he had gotten so quick wasn't something you could pass up so fast. Michael liked pranking people, and sometimes he didn't often see that some of them were truly awful to do. "Yes, I am." You looked away, turning your nose up at him. 

"Please?" he whined, squeezing your hand in his. "Would you look at me?"

A taste of his own medicine should do him good. 

"Pretty please?" 

You were still looking away. "Not until you apologize." 

"I'm sorry," he muttered, but it wasn't good enough. 

He knows it. 

You knew it. 

He didn't like when you didn't give him all of your attention, the perfect advantage you had that he thought he could hide. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated, getting closer— close enough his breath tickled your cheek. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry—"

You looked at him from the corner of your eye. "You mean it?"

"Yes. Yes I mean it. I'm sorry." 

You tilted your head, finally giving him that attention he wanted so badly. "Good. It serves you right." 

"I know… I know." He watched you intently. "I can't bear the thought of you being mad at me for a second. But…We can leave, I think it's almost time anyways." 

"Well, alright." you held his gaze, then quickly looked away. "And I'm um… sorry. I'm sorry for punching you." 

"I deserved it," he chuckled softly. "I don't know how what I'm going to say to Rick if my face swells up later." 

"As long as my name isn't involved…" You were slightly nervous. It wasn't Michael of course, just the life outside of him. First time on set and you punched the rising star in the face— something he set up— and you were scared they'll remove you. "But…what…what would you say? I mean, are they going to kick me out?"

He could see your worriness clear as day. 

He reached for you, his fingers cupping your chin to turn your eyes back to him. "You really think I'll let them kick you out? I'll walk out right behind you."

"Michael, this is your career—"

"A career. Not my life." He held your gaze. "My life is sitting right here, in front of me." He said it like you meant everything in the world to him. "Wherever you go, I go." 

That feeling sat in your stomach, a low simmer of something you couldn't explain, but it felt good. 

Well, I have a suggestion." 

Blinking up at him, you were wildly confused on how you could heal a wound that quick. 

"What suggestion?"

"Maybe you could— well, I don't know…" That iconic smirk came back up.

He never knew when to quit. 

"…kiss it better?"

"Kiss it better?" You snorted, "Ohh, You set this up? didn't you?" You shoved him, but he didn't budge, smiling harder then he ever did. "You did all this cause you wanted to get me all alone for a kiss?" 

"Alone, yes. The kiss? No." 

"I'm not sure if it's the thriller you or the real you that's talking." You couldn't stop the grin from forming on your face. "Which one is it?"

"It's all me, baby," he chuckled. "Doesn't matter what music video or song— they're all me." 

"I guess I can arrange something," you shrugged, trying not to make it obvious that you really do want to kiss him. "As long as you use your manners." 

Something sparked in his face. 

"Please baby, just one little kiss. Rightttt here." He tapped the side of his face that you punched. "Kiss it better for me, would you, doll?"

You couldn't say no to that. 

You moved forward, lips inches away from his cheek. The last second he turned, his lips pressing against yours and it's like the whole world stopped. 

He didn't pull away, you didn't either, and he took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss. Guiding you to follow him. It felt electric, like someone lit a fire inside of him— inside of you both. It felt like you couldn't breathe, but it also felt like he was all of the oxygen in the world. You were so focused on how heated the kiss was, you didn't notice the next second after that you were lying on your back with him dangerously close to laying over you. His hand cradling your head from touching the floor. 

He pulled back , your mouths breaking apart with a loud pop, and you couldn't find the oxygen to breathe again.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he sighed, using his free hand to brush your hair from your face. "Me, you, Bubbles, Louie, and Muscles—"

"We can leave Muscles," you grumbled. 

"Muscles is what's holding us together." He pressed another kiss to your lips. "Just us five. We can make our own memories, and maybe… start a new life together? How does that sound?" 

He was searching for your reaction, hoping you were on the same page as him. He was never good at reading people— he was never good at reading himself— But he liked knowing what people were thinking, whether it was from their face, or the taps of their foot to his song. As far as he knew, he could read a lot from you judging by your facial expressions. 

You were looking at him with the most wondrous eyes. Blinking up at him, fingers fidgeting around his shoulders, the light shining against your face like an angelic glow that he was going to write into a song to hold this memory.

"You…You really mean that?"

He nodded. "I know that." 

You didn't know what to say. 

The front door opened and you both turned towards the new presences. 

It was a crew member, with large headphones perched on their head and a clipboard in hand. He caught sight of you and looked away quickly, the position you both were in probably too suggestive for his taste. "S-Sorry Michael—" he bowed his head. "T-They said they were ready for the next scene. it'll start in five." 

"Sure," Michael responded, getting up. 

He held out his hand for you to take, pulling you up to your feet. He made sure you were steady, both feet planted securely, before patting down any loose ends of your outfit. "Duty calls," he said, frowning a bit. "Don't miss me too much, okay?" 

"You'll be two feet away," you shook your head. 

"That's too far for me, " He whined. "What if someone gets me? Who's going to punch their jaw off for me?" 

"Go," you chastised. "Hurry up before they kick me out for being a distraction." 

"Fine," he said, but he didn't move. "Walk with me then?" 

"You're so annoying." You rolled your eyes, but you took his hand and let him lead you out of the house. 

He spotted you across the vip lounge, leaning against the bar, looking drop dead gorgeous in a vintage backless silk dress that probably cost more than his first endorsement deal and moved through the crowd like a moth drawn to a flame, feeling his heart pounding against his ribs in a way that had nothing to do with cardio.

"Hey," he said, stepping into your space and trying to summon that golden boy charm that usually worked on his fans. He reached out to ghost a hand over your waist, acting as if the last few days hadn't happened. "You look incredible tonight. I missed you."

You didn't flinch but the way you stepped back to adjust your earring was clearly a dismissal. You didn't even spare him a glance.

"Did you?" you asked in a melodic hum. "I hadn't noticed. I assumed you'd finally retired and moved to a remote island without cellular service."

Jake's confident facade vanished in a matter of seconds. He hated secretly loved when you were like this—the cold, maneater persona that reminded him exactly where he stood in your hierarchy.

"Princess, come on," he stepped closer, his voice dropping starting to sound a little desperate. The star center for the NHL's top team was starting to look like a kicked puppy. "Practice was hell, the away game went into triple overtime...I haven't—I’ve barely slept or eaten and I've been dying to talk to you. I'm sorry. I'm real sorry, angel."

You finally turned your gaze to him and raked your eyes over his expensive suit and the frantic look in his eyes with a bored curiosity.

"You're sorry?" You took a slow sip of your martini, letting the silence stretch until Jake looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. "That's sweet, Jake. Really. But you know I don't do busy. I do priority. And clearly, you've forgotten which one I am."

"I haven't forgotten anything. I swear I haven’t," he rasped, his hand finally catching your waist properly, stroking his thumb over the exposed skin of your back in a silent plea. He was so down bad he was practically shaking. "I'll do anything. I'll take you to Monaco tomorrow. I'll let you delete every contact in my phone. Just don't do the ice thing. Please. I cannot breathe when you're like this."

You looked down at his hand on your waist, then back up at his face, enjoying the way he seemed to be losing it in front of all these people. "Monaco is a start. But for tonight? You're going to stand three feet away and watch me talk to every other man in this room. Maybe then you'll remember how to use a phone."

"Angel, don’t do that to me."

"Do you have any idea how many men here are currently waiting for me to look in their direction?" you started. "Men who don't have hectic schedules because they make the time. Men who understand that being in my life is a privilege, not a hobby you pick up when the off season starts."

You started to lay into him in such a clinical way, a verbal evisceration delivered with the calm poise of a woman who knew she held every single card. Jake's eyes darted nervously around the plush lounge while his neck and ears turned an embarrassed red. He was terrified that a teammate or, heaven forbid, a stray paparazzo would see the league's most aggressive enforcer being reduced to a trembling mess by a girl who had barely even raised her voice.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Jake," you commanded in a sharp tone that made his head snap back to you like he was on voice trained. The fear of public embarrassment was gone and he stood there with such a terrifying, puppy like devotion that it was almost sickening. He looked at you with his heart in his eyes, completely mesmerized by the way your lips moved as you tore him apart.

"I just thought—" he started to interject, his voice cracking a little.

"Shut up when I'm speaking. I didn't ask for your thoughts or a play by play of your triple overtime and I certainly don't care about your locker room excuses." You stepped closer to poke a manicured finger into his chest, right over his hammering heart.

"You're a star on the ice, Jake. Everyone wants a piece of you. But in my world? You're just another boy. You thought because I let you touch me, you suddenly earned the right to go silent? You thought you were special enough to make me wait?"

Jake's mouth was dry as he hung onto every single word of his own public execution.

"You're not special," you continued, trailing your eyes all over his face. "You're replaceable. I could walk ten feet to the bar and find three men with more zeros in their bank accounts and better manners than you. If you ever—and I mean ever—leave me on read again, don't bother coming back. Do you understand me?"

Jake swallowed hard, his throat working as he stared at you, completely mesmerized by your cruelty. "I know I was wrong," he whispered. "I promise I’ll make it up to you."

"It'll never happen again. I swear, it won't."

"You're right," you said, checking the diamonds on your wrists. "It won't."

A hopeful smile broke across his face and he stepped further into your space, his heat crowding you. "Come home with me tonight. Please. I'll let you do whatever you want to me. Anything. I don’t wanna go home without you."

You laughed a mocking laugh and leaned in to brush your lips against his ear. "Whatever I want? That's brave, Jake."

"Oh yeah I forgot the he 'S' in Sim actually stands for sub."

Jake's pupils blew out until his eyes were almost entirely black. He didn't even try to defend his dignity—only nodding quickly and intertwining your fingers to lead you out of the party.

"Yes. Yes, it does. I'm all yours. Do whatever you want."

₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓈒⊹

THE HOCKEY HERALD: Seoul Titans Star Jake Sim Seen Leaving Prada After-Party in the Wake of Heiress Y/N L/N—Has the League's Golden Boy Been Tamed by Society's Favorite Maneater?

yes, he enjoyed a good missionary fuck or the occasional cowgirl. it's nice, it's intimate and he loves it. BUT he cannot stop wondering what more there is to try. so one night, when you two were just laying on the couch, your head rested against the crook of his neck, just dozing away he opens up reddit. "baby," he presses a little kiss on your head and you stir, "come look at this." you turn — and are greeted with 50 positions that you HAVE to try with your partner. "what on earth is a maternity- no wait mating press?" you mumble and he shrugs. one google search later, both of your eyes were wide open. "i am....." he starts. "...intruiged." you finish his sentence. you two eye each other, smiled spreading on both of your faces before you jump up and run to the bedroom.

boyfriend!jungwon cannot stop giggling at first when you try new positions.

the first time you tried 69 mans was GIGGLING into your pussy, the position was too silly to him. "won be serious, this was your idea." you mumble, hand squeezing his cock and he moans. " sorry baby, i just keep thinking of the memes." now, you can't have this man thinking about memes when your pretty pussy hovers rights above him so without further thought you just sit down on him — no warning and his face has become your seat. and jungwon enters heaven, his nose on your clit, mouth on your precum drenched cunt and all thoughts of unseriousness GONE! and when your mouth simultaneously is in his dick, moaning around because he's absolutely devouring you and slobbering your juices (it's literally running down his chin YUM) he only gets more eager, licking away at your folds and you meet him with enthusiastic bobs of your head and tongue swirls around his dick <33

another time, the position didn't even have a name, he eventually just got incredibly creative with it. it seemed like it was his mission to bend your body and intertwine himself with you until you couldn't be untangled. your head flat on the bed, body half twisted, you couldn't even decipher where one of his legs is. his hand was, the romantic that he is, entangled with yours and you give it a slight tug. "wonie, baby, i don't know if this is working." you giggle and his head snaps up. "you're not feeling good, baby?" worry coated his voice and you melted. "no, i just can't really feel you IN me babe." his face drops and he immediately detangles himself from you "now we can't have that," he mumbles, "need you fucking filled with me." he's dead serious and it's the most hilarious thing you've seen. "you won't be laughing for long..." he mutters, sly grin on his face. that man will devote his life to get you moaning and begging.

boyfriend!jungwon who keeps a list of things to try and literally whips it out when you're about to get down and dirty lol

"wait, baby" he pants into your ear as he has you pressed against the glass window that over looks the city. exhibitionism was on the list today and he has you high up against the window, technically for the entire city to see. "let me just..." he reaches back, cock still drilling into you as he reaches for his phone. it looks absolutely ridiculous, he's absolutely destroying your insides with his tongue poking out since his face id isn't working. "there." he exclaims with joy, you feel his hand tangling your hair and a tug. the delicious sting of your pulled hair and the feeling of him deep inside you earning eager moans from you. "there we fucking go, princess. don't you just look fucking gorgeous falling apart on me." which brings me to the next point!!

boyfriend!jungwon loves to praise you and goes absolutely feral when you get more vocal at his sweet degration

it started out innocent. he simply wanted to make sure you knew how nice you feel, how much he loves you. but with more filthy positions came more swear words from him, so a "gosh you're so pretty, you feel so good for me" turned into a "you're the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen, sweet pussy made for my cock, look at you swallowing me. you love going dumb on my cock don't you baby?". ughhh and you whine so deliciously, head shyly turning away, which he cannot tolerate, so he grabs your face, more roughly than he anticipated but when he noticed you moaning at the feeling of his fingertips digging into the flesh of your cheek, he discovered something new about you. from that moment on he makes it his mission to make you moan a little louder than last time, adding another finger, stimulating your clit in a different way or licking and sucking away at the sweet spot on your neck :3 he especially loves making you loud in places where you SHOULDN'T be loud, he loves the thrill. getting caught is not something he wants, you're for his eyes only but it's a nice little challenge he likes to give you. because sweet girls who do well get extra sweet treatment ><

boyfriend!jungwon feels like he just committed treason when you end up not liking something new :(

turns out you don't like something and he full on stops "do you want some space?" immediately withdrawing any skin contact, "no, no won i want you, this just wasn't it for me today. maybe some other time?" you pout, guilt eating away at you. "baby, hey," he coos, hands cradling your face. "you never have to feel bad for saying no, i need you to tell me when even the slightest thing doesn't feel right for you, otherwise i don't have fun either. this is a you and me thing." leaning in, he peppers a few kisses across your cheek and nose, making you giggle. "what does my sweet girl want to do, hm? want me to eat you out so you run your pretty little head off?" at that your eyes sparkle and he grins. big hands guide you to lay flat on your back as he positions himself between your knees. soft kisses adore your inner thighs as he makes his way to your dripping hole.

boyfriend!jungwon who then made you sit down and have a chat about a safe word!

whether that is pineapple, the colour system or tapping. he doesn't care WHAT you choose as long AS you choose and use it! and when you used it for the first time he was filled with so much love and pride. you were giving him the blowjob of the century, literally he was grabbing onto the wall, mouth open, eyes screwed shut. he was so lost in the feeling that without thinking, one hand flew down to your hair as he pulled your head closer, his cock impossible deep inside your throat as he snaps his hips toward. you've had him down your throat before (he did lowkey train you) but at some point it's bound to be on much. your moans turn into mumbles as you try to mutter out your discomfort, brain turning into mush at the overstimulation :( weakly, you hit the inside of his thigh a few times, getting his attention. he immediately snaps out of it, releases your hair and slowly pulls out of you to make sure the sudden rush of air doesn't overwhelm you. and yes, he loves to see you pathetic for him, but the sight of you coughing repeatedly makes him so upset. tears fill HIS eyes as he crouches down to your level to scoop you into his arms. "i'm so sorry angel, i should've held back." he mumbles into your hair as he softly strokes it, rocking you back and forth. you manage a hum, throat still to sore to speak and he feels his heart break. he blames himself so much :(( "i'm so proud of you for using our safety methods baby, you did so so well." a thousand kisses adore your forehead. " 's okay wonie" you mumble back, sleepy from the whole experience. "i know you didn't mean to." sweet boy picks you up and carries you to the bed. he watches you drift off to sleep in his arms, checking on the outside for any bruises or scratches. only when he saw tho injuries he allows himself to drift off too, arms tightly wrapped around you and face in your neck, breathing in the smell of you he oh so loves.

boyfriend!jungwon has an obsession with squirting, as soon as he knew it was possible it has become his life mission to find the quickest way to drain all liquid from you.....

the first time it wasn't planned, really it had been quite innocent. after a long day, jungwon just couldn't wait to be inside you and forget about the world for a few hours. everyone had been pissing him off, your pussy the only remedy. one orgasm turned into two and he showed absolutely no signs of stopping. "wonie, 's too much." you lulled out, drunk on the sting of his cock nudging your insides. "i know baby, just one more" he whispered, lips brushing your ears. "i know you can do that for me, hm?" he knew that you'd do anything to make him proud, so you clutched him a little tighter and focused on the hot sensation bubbling up in your abdomen. what you didn't expect, was for him to suddenly press his thumb to your already sensitive clit, rubbing deliberate circles onto the soft bud. your back arched, chest meeting his as your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulder. "ngh—won! wait," you squealed. "fuckkk, baby you clench so fucking nicely around me." he groaned, lips messily meeting yours, eagerly hushing your desperate gasps and whimpers. "something—, something feels different." you gasp and before you knew it the coil in your stomach snapped and warm liquid spilled down both of your thighs. jungwon stopped all his movements, eyes focused on your pulsing pussy as you writhe around the bed. still in a haze, you looked at him with frightened eyes. "i'm so sorry..." you choked out. "don't know what happened i couldn't stop it i swear!" he still didn't say anything and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. that finally made him snap out of his own haze. "holy shit baby, you're the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen." his lips met the soft flesh of you chest as he started peppering kisses up to you neck, nipping at it slightly. "you know what you just did? i read about this." he mumbled and you shook your head. "think you just squirted baby, that's like...the biggest fucking compliment ever." your eyes meet and he almost cooed at your innocent expression, teary eyes making you look like an absolute doll. "baby, nooo, you did well, i'm not mad i'm so sorry!" he added, rolling you over so you were on top of him. "sorry my angel, i just didn't expect you to do that." he whispered, playing with a lock of your hair. "didn't know what was happening," you mumbled into his chest and he felt his heart swell. "must've been so scary for you baby, but you did so so well. you could never do anything to upset me angel, okay?" "mhm" you mumble back sleepily, the weight of your orgasm still tingling on your tired out limbs. little did you know that while you were drifting off to dreamland he was thinking how he can get you to do that again next time. oh you were in for a very fun time.

boyfriend!jungwon really really really likes mutual choking o.o

so this one was initiated by you by pure accident. jungwon had your legs bent to your chest as if they were out of jelly while drilling into your poor pussy at a brutal pace (you love it) and you tried your best to hang on to him — which happened to be his neck. you were mindlessly grabbing around, looking for any stability, and your hands instantly wrapped around his neck. without meaning to you squeezed it and jungwon let out the most delicious moan you've heard in a long time. in your fucked out state you didn't even realise what he responded to and just gave him a puzzled look. he didn't even give you a verbal answer, too shocked at the new sensation he was feeling and just put his hand over yours in his neck — only then did you realise what you did. "you like that?" you moaned out, not even seductive on purpose, but he goes wild. the hand on your hip tightened, his own hips snapping into yours even quicker. what stared out as innocent grabbing on him for stability now turned into his hand also finding your throat to keep you from being bratty. in the end it just turned both of you on even more; your brattiness and his desire to keep you in line. it was one of those moments where jungwon realised just how much you both have grown together and gotten insanely fucking freaky :p

boyfriend!jungwon found out he has an oral fixation at the same time you did you have one too.

he sort of trained it into you, without meaning. in the most innocent ways he told you to lick the batter off his finger, wipes the dripped ice cream from your chin and told you to clean it off — it had all been truly innocent! he loved the feeling of your lips on him, it had a peaceful kind of possession attached to it and an incredibly deep connection of trust!! he found his fingers slip near your lips during cuddle sessions, loving how you teasingly bite or nip at the skin. long fingers loving squished your cheeks, slipping into the warmth of your mouth. for him, he loved having his mouth ON you!! it didn't even have to be a kiss, just simply resting his lips against your skin was enough. he was the one that nibbled and licked away at your skin, loving the way you squeaked at the tickling sensation :,) eventually it would also definitely find its way into your sex life. let it be you choking the life out of him as he had you sucking on his fingers — it drove both of you INSANE! he would be eating you out for hours, juices running down your legs and when you eventually have given him the nth orgasm of the day he dips his fingers into your heat, collecting the wetness and slipping it into his mouth. seeing your hazy eyes sparkle at his gesture he repeats the action but guides your juices on his fingers to your mouth. as you now clean your own slick off his fingers, twirling you tongue around the bud of his fingertips, his lips are on you again. kissing, licking, sucking and nipping away at the soft flesh of your body. it was his way of saying that you, your trust, your love. it calmed both of you such innocent way in the end. yes you both love to get down and dirty, any position at any time but you have established such a beautiful trust between each other :(

ʟɪɴꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: innocent to freaky won has a special place in my heart, pls meet me in my bed !

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @saeivra @shawnyle @kookiesnkim @itsnotawrongnumber @shaiimuraaa @yelihusband @chaebbys @feedrinplz @shawnyle @twerkispeak (comment or send me an ask if you want to be tagged or removed <33)

ʜᴏɴᴏʀᴀʀʏ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: @fawnwonie kisses u until the sun explodes, have some wonie my love :3

Byun Euijoo was the prettiest man in existence. Byun Euijoo was as beautiful as the poets described inanimate objects to be in their frantic rants on aesthetic crumpled paper. Byun Euijoo was your moon, sun, stars, galaxies and everything in between.

Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his and everything was hunky dory in this simple life. 

Anyways let's move on and be on our merry way—

Oh hello there, horniness. Whatever are you doing here? 

Yeah. 

You wanted to ride Byun Euijoo’s cock till the crack of glorious dawn. 

One slight issue, not much of a problem really. How the actual hell were you supposed to ask your sweet tangerine of a boyfriend if you could sit on that beautiful dick that the gods had blessed him with and ride it like a heady stallion? It was in such situations that you realised you should really not let your uterus control your brain. 

It wasn't to say you two hadn't ever had sex with each other. Hell, your current beloved was the man who had taken your virginity, wrapped it up in caramel wrappers and kept it all to himself. As he should, if you were being completely frank. 

You remembered your first time like it was just yesterday. The heavenly feeling of his slender, skilled fingers entering you first, then that damned tongue of his—you were sure it could have brought Arthur and his round table to their knees had they seen how sharp it spit its pretty words, and it could have brought out Guinevere too, what with the pace at which it moved.  

And then he was in you, actually in you, and oh all you could think about was Euijoo, Euijoo, Euijoo. He was the only thing lingering in your mind, the sole thing your mind could even comprehend, as if all coherence was reduced to the tiny space that the letters of his name took up. 

And he was so sweet afterwards too, like the meat of a tangerine—shockingly saccharine, akin to the first time you'd ever tasted chocolate as a child. Euijoo had been the perfect boyfriend, the stuff of movies, the person your friends had alleged didn't exist in real life. 

He had smoothed his hand over your messy hair, cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you came down from the high of your first orgasm. Then he'd picked you right up in his arms, cradling you to his broad chest and had placed you down in a warm bath which you had no idea when he even had the time to run. And he'd even poured in all of your favourite bath salts! How sweet of him.

Byun Euijoo was the perfect boyfriend. 

The only not-too-serious problem was he was so damn gentle with it. It had taken you maybe three days of convincing for him to go even a fraction of a frequency harder. You remembered that night, when your whispered pleas and the press of your hips finally convinced him. In your point of view, it was a goddamn breakthrough.

Even then, your boyfriend was a symphony of care. Every half-harsh thrust, every gasp, was punctuated by a soft question. "Are you okay?” "Does this feel good?" "Tell me if it's too much."

His voice had been a low, tender murmur against your skin, a constant anchor even as pleasure began to build a storm inside you.

And it did feel good. So good that the world narrowed to the points of contact: his lips on your shoulder, his breath in your ear, the deep rhythm he’d finally allowed. It felt like being known, like being cherished and consumed, all at once. 

That night planted a seed, a horny demon seed, and now, it’s grown into a full, blooming want. The memory of that controlled power, that restrained strength, has curdled into a delicious, daring thought: You want to steer the ship.

The idea of riding him felt like claiming a new kind of intimacy, not just receiving his care, but meeting it—surrounding it, controlling the pace, watching his pretty face unravel from above. You wanted to see what happens when you set the rhythm. You wanted to see his hands, usually so gentle, maybe clutch at your thighs. You wanted to hear his questions turn into gasps, his careful words dissolve into your name like a sinful prayer.

Hey it was almost like you were reclaiming all that confidence you’d lost in middle school! Yay, you!

But the dilemma was how would you ask him? How would you translate this hungry (carnivorous), bubbling impulse into words your sweet tangerine would understand?

Maybe you could start with your touch—it never failed to unravel him like a spool of wool.  A slow evening, his head in your lap, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. You could murmur it into the quiet, a half-suggestion wrapped in a kiss: ‘Euijoo… I had a thought. Something I want to try with you.’

Or perhaps you use the memory itself—the way he was grunting about how tight you’d felt when he was buried to the hilt. ‘Remember when you went harder? Felt so good, Ju. Can we try that again tonight?’

You imagined his reaction, a slight pause, the way his beautiful eyes would focus, deep and thoughtful. He might blink, then a soft smile would touch his lips. He’d say ‘are you sure, love?’ and you’d whisper your ‘yes, please’ and then he’d cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

He'd say, ‘Okay,’ in that voice that always felt like a promise. Then he'd lie back and watch you, his gaze full of that same tender awe, but now mixed with a new, surrendering heat. He’d be your anchor again, but this time, you’d be the wave.

So, how would you ask? With words? With touches? With a look? 

“CanIpleaserideyourcock.” 

Or yeah you could just do that. Say your words as fast as you could and make Euijoo look down at you with that expression that you could never read.

The movie was a soft murmur in the background, some romantic comedy neither of you were really watching. His arm was draped around your shoulders, your head tucked perfectly into the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

He’d just brought your hand up, his lips brushing a feather-light kiss over your knuckles, a habit so ingrained it was like a second heartbeat. And that’s when your gaze drifted.

His black compression shirt (why did the handsome bastard have to wear it on the one day you were a raging horny demon) clung to him like a second skin, tracing the plains of his chest, the subtle shift of muscle in his arm. Below, the soft grey sweatpants were a study in casual, devastating temptation, hinting at the line of his thighs, at the relaxed, heavy drape of the fabric between them. A contrast to your own outfit—just his oversized shirt and a pair of panties, feeling both protected and perilously exposed.

Your mind didn't just wander, oh it fucking sprinted, replaying the heat of his skin, the weight of him, the way his control had felt like both a sanctuary and a cage you suddenly wanted to rattle. The thought was a drumbeat, synchronizing with your pulse: ride him, ride him, ride him.

You must have tensed, or let out a tiny, trapped sound, because his fingers stilled on your hand. "Hmm?" he hummed, the vibration gentle against your temple. "What's wrong, love?"

His voice, always so tender, was your undoing. The question, the sweet concern, was the final crack in the dam. He was being so careful and gentle and all you could think of was his cock buried deep as fuck in you. The words, marinated in want and a frantic lack of filter, tumbled out in a single, breathless, jumbled rush.

"CanIpleaserideyourcock."

Silence.

Not the empty silence of the paused movie, but a thick, profound, living silence that swallowed the room whole. The only sound was the frantic thud of your own heart in your ears.

Slowly, so slowly, you felt him shift, his arm slipping from your shoulders. You couldn't bring yourself to look up, your face burning with a heat that could power a small city. You stared rigidly at a loose thread on the knee of his sweatpants.

Then, a finger hooked gently under your chin, tilting your face up.

You were met with the look. His beautiful eyes were wide, pupils dark and blown, but his expression was utterly, mystifyingly unreadable. It wasn't shock, exactly and it wasn't disapproval. 

It was a deep, intense focus, as if he was translating a complex and fascinating new language—the language of your blunt, desperate hunger. His lips were slightly parted, and a soft, curious smile played on them. He just looked at you, he looked at you for so long that you thought you might dissolve into the couch cushions.

Finally, his thumb stroked over the apple of your burning cheek. His voice, when it came, was low, a little rough, and laced with that same unreadable awe.

“What was that, my love?

The sound of his voice, so gentle, sent a fresh wave of fire over your skin. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone completely dry. You managed a tiny, shaky breath.

Euijoo didn’t rush you. His thumb continued its slow, maddening stroke on your cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. It was like he was waiting for a precious secret, giving you all the time in the world to form the words properly, even though you’d already thrown them at him in a chaotic heap.

Gathering every ounce of courage left in your trembling body, you forced your lips to move. This time, you tried to pace it, to give each word its own weight, though they still came out as a hushed, pleading whisper.

“I said…..can I… please…..ride your cock?”

There it was, out in the open like a wild cat. Just a full, coherent sentence hanging in the air between you. You cringed as you said each word.

The look on his face shifted, softening at the edges, that curious smile blooming into something warmer. He leaned in, until his forehead was almost touching yours, his breath a warm caress against your lips.

“Love….” He murmured, the words vibrating with a low, appreciative hum. “You do realise what you’re asking?” 

You merely hummed, suddenly having lost the microns of confidence you’d had five minutes ago. God he looked so beautiful, there wasn't any word in the lexicons of all the languages you knew to properly describe him. Those eyes, those lips, that skin—what sort of Homer or Sappho were you to depict him in a way that did justice?

“Baby.” Your boyfriend pulled back just enough to see your whole face, his eyes tracing your features as if memorizing this moment, “Tell me properly.”

His words were a tantalizing invitation, a request to step into your own desire, fully and without shame. You took a shaky breath, the air feeling thin and electric.

“Well, you know how we’ve been having sex lately…”“Uh huhh…”

“And you know how we usually only fuck….normally.” Well that was certainly one way to describe it.

“And you know how I really, really love you.”

“I really, really love you too, angel.” God he was so fucking sweet, even while you were being the most awkward deer in headlights.

“Do you not like it, angel?” Euijoo said, his expression a beautiful conflict of awe and concern, “Do you not feel good?

The concern in his voice, so genuine and immediate, shattered the last of your awkwardness. It was so him—to hear your clumsy phrasing and instantly worry he hadn’t been enough.

“No! God no, Euijoo, that’s not it at all,” you rushed out, your hands coming up to frame his face, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. It’s just….”

“Just what, my love?” Euijoo asked and you took another breath. You could do this; for him, you could find the words.

“Well, I love how you take care of me. You make me feel so good, always.” You bit your lip, searching for the right way to explain the hunger that felt both foreign and fundamental, “I just want to try something new, you know? I want to make you feel good. Your voice gained a sliver of strength, fueled by the honesty in his eyes. “Please, Ju?”

You watched his beautiful face process them, his eyes darkening, his lips parting slightly on a soft, indrawn breath. The awe was still there, but his concern had been utterly transformed into a kind of captivated shock.

“Oh….” he breathed, the single syllable loaded with a universe of understanding. His hands, which had been resting lightly on your waist, tightened their grip almost imperceptibly. 

“I mean you don’t have to if you’re not comfortable.” You laughed awkwardly, averting your eyes away from his gaze, “I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea I just—”

Euijoo closed the small distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was devastatingly soft—a promise, a taste, a silent conversation. When he broke away, his lips lingered a hair’s breadth from yours.

“It’s not stupid.” Your beloved murmured, the words a warm sigh against your mouth. His hands slid from your face to your shoulders, a gentle weight, “I just don't want you getting hurt, my love.”

Now let us pause for a second, dearest reader. 

Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his. 

And my, was he a liar, liar, liar. 

Pretty liar, though.

Euijoo had the face and demeanour of a complete angel. His friends and family knew him to be nothing more than the sweet, kind boy with infinite patience. The epitome of a soft spring, as his girlfriend had dubbed him. 

But oh god if only you knew about him when the lights went off. Oh if only you knew about all the times he’d wrapped your panties around his dick and imagined it was your warm heat wrapped around him instead. Of course, he’d never force any of his fantasies onto you. He’d never want you to get hurt because of you, his pretty baby to cherish.

Euijoo had thought it had been enough—the first time you two had made love to each other. The dulcet tone of your soft mewls and moans had him going so fucking crazy. The way you’d whined his name when he entered you, he could feel himself grow even harder in you, which he didn't even know was possible. The way you looked up at him with cartoonishly dazed eyes, at the verge of going cross eyed, even though he’d been so goddamn gentle, the combination of it all had been busting maybe fifteen more times.

And the day you’d asked him to go harder? Oh that had been Armageddon. 

And now here you were, all pretty and soft and doe-eyed. And oh you were even climbing onto his lap now. How amazing for his poor dick.

Shifting forward on the couch, you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle of them through the thin shirt. Ignoring his gentle hold, you swung one leg, then the other, over his lap, settling yourself firmly astride his thighs. The new position, the feel of him solid beneath you, the way his breath hitched—it was intoxicating. You looked down at him, at his parted lips and wide, surprised eyes.

“It’ll be good.” You said, your own voice gaining a sure note you didn’t know you possessed. “It will be good because it’s you and it’s me, and we both love each other very much and I really, really, need you right now.”

It would be the last day on earth for Euijoo’s mental stability.

You saw the moment he surrendered. The concern in his eyes was eclipsed by a dawning, deep-seated heat. A slow, breathless chuckle escaped him, a sound of pure wonder and capitulation. His hands, which had been resting on your shoulders, slid down your back, coming to rest on your hips. 

“Okay,” he breathed, the word a sacred pact. His head fell back against the couch cushions, his gaze locking with yours, full of that tender awe and now, a complete, open surrender, “Okay, my sweet girl.”

A slow, breathtaking smile spread across his face. It wasn’t his usual gentle smile. This was something new—something edged with a thrilling, surrendered heat. He leaned in, until his nose brushed yours.

“But,” He whispered, his voice a low vibration that went straight to your core, “you have to promise that you won't force yourself for my sake, hmm?”

“I won’t.” You said, jokingly holding up your pinky, “I promise.”

Euijoo took it anyway, intertwining it in his, and bringing your hands up to his lips again to kiss your knuckles. What a gentleman. 

The heat of his body seeped through his pants, and you could already feel the growing hardness of his cock pressing against your core as you settled. Euijoo exhaled sharply, hands now coming to rest on your waist, gripping just firm enough.

“Well, if you’re sure, angel.” His reluctance melted under your gaze, that secret excitement bubbling beneath his sweet boy facade. He pulled you closer, lips crashing into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

Your mouths moved together, tongues sliding and teasing, the kiss turning messy and heated. You rocked your hips experimentally, grinding down against the bulge in his sweatpants, the friction sending sparks through you. A soft moan escaped you into his mouth, and Euijoo groaned in response, his fingers digging into your sides as he kissed you harder.

You picked up a rhythm, rolling your hips forward and back, pressing your clothed heat against his cock with each pass. The barrier between you only heightened the tease, the pressure building deliciously without any real relief. His hands slid up your back, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his tongue danced into your mouth in time with your movements.

Euijoo's breaths came in pants, his secret thrill making his grip possessive. He loved this—your eagerness, the way your body moved for him, so desperate. And he revelled in the fact that it was because of him. He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against yours. 

“Mmmh…..” Euijoo groaned softly against your lips, voice rougher now, his control slipping just a fraction, “So pretty, my love.”

He bucked up subtly, meeting your grinds, the outline of his cock rubbing right against your clit through your panties. You whimpered, nipping at his lower lip, your hands clutching his shoulders as you humped him faster, chasing that building ache.

“Let’s go somewhere else, hmm?”

Before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off the couch. You clung to him, legs wrapping around his hips as he carried you toward the bedroom, your heart racing with anticipation.

He carried you as if you weighed nothing, your bodies pressed together in a seamless, heated line. The journey to the bedroom felt both eternal and instantaneous, a blur of hallway shadows and the soft, grounding sound of Euijoo’s breathing against your neck. 

When he reached the bed, your beloved lowered you with a reverence that stole your breath, following you down so his body covered yours, caging you in warmth and strength.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you beneath him—hair fanned out, lips kiss-swollen, chest rising and falling with the same ragged rhythm as his own. His thumb traced your lower lip.

“You’re sure, angel?” Euijoo murmured, with a kiss to your cheek that made you smile, “Like, one hundred sure?” 

You shifted atop the bed, heart thumping as you moved to straddle Euijoo's hips once more, the mattress dipping under your combined weight. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, but he kept his hands at his sides, palms flat against the sheets, giving you the space to lead. You could feel the hard heat of him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, a direct line to your own aching core. 

You smiled up at him, “Yes, Ju, I’m sure.”

“Alright then.” He said, pressing a final kiss to the tip of your nose, before rolling to the side, lying back against the pillows, his gaze fixed on you with raw anticipation. The trust in his expression was absolute; he was handing you the reins, fully surrendering himself to your desire.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you gripped the hem of your shirt—borrowed from him—and pulled it up over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Cool air kissed your bare skin, you felt exposed, vulnerable, but the way his breath hitched made heat pool in your core. 

Next, you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your thighs and off, kicking them aside. Now fully naked, you sat there for a beat, feeling his hardness twitch against your bare pussy through his sweatpants. Euijoo's jaw clenched, his chest rising faster. 

“God, angel, you're so fucking beautiful like this…..” he murmured, voice low and rough, but he didn't move, honoring your turn to take charge.

Emboldened by his words, you reached for the edge of his shirt, tugging it upward. He lifted his arms to help, peeling it off and tossing it away, revealing the lean muscles of his torso. 

Your hands moved to his sweatpants, fingers dipping under the elastic to grasp the base of his cock briefly before you pushed the fabric down. He lifted his hips, letting you slide them off along with his boxers, his thick cock coming free, hard and veined, the tip red hot. The first touch of bare skin to skin was electric, a sharp, shared gasp filling the room. 

You paused, staring at it, the sheer size making your throat dry. As it always did when you had sex with him. Yeah you were (sort of) used to the size by now, but oh the feeling of him splitting you open like a walnut? You could never get used to it, even if you got married and had twins with him. But that’s a fantasy for another day.

Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly from base to tip, feeling him throb under your touch. The skin was hot, velvet over steel, and you marveled at how your fingers barely met around his girth. 

“Shit…” A low groan escaped Euijoo's lips, his head falling back against the pillows. “Nghh—keep doing that, my love…good girl.”

Internally, his mind raced—your sudden boldness, the way you handled him so tentatively yet purposefully, it ignited that side of him no one would ever see, making his cock ache even more. He wanted to flip you over, pin you down, and drive his cock into you, but he held back, savoring your initiative like ice cream on a summer Sunday afternoon.

You stroked him a few more times, thumb swirling over the head to spread the precum, before positioning yourself. Lifting your hips, you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance, the blunt head nudging against your slick folds. 

Well here went all your sanity down a hole.

You remembered the first time you thought ‘oh I’m kinda in love with this guy’. It was a Saturday morning, and as all Saturdays are—romantically lethargic—you’d gotten up at 11 am, to the smell of toast and the outline in the bed where your lover should have been.

You’d found him in the kitchen, a kiss the cook apron wrapped round his waist (you happily obliged the instruction later), the tip of his tongue stuck out and his brows furrowed in concentration as he peeled a pomegranate for you.

His fingers, oh those slender fingers that always knew juuust where to touch and fiddle to have you squirting around them. They were dyed faintly red now, presumably from a few accidental squeezes of the seeds.

Euijoo didn’t even notice you saunter up to the counter, merely picking up another pomegranate and splitting it open and ohhhh

Oh he was splitting you so fucking open.

What the fuck were you even thinking about right now? What was there even left to think about as you sliiidd down on his length, evoking emotions in your head that you were sure only the heavens themselves could explain properly. 

A gasp tore from your throat, turning into a moan as the burn hit—he was so much thicker than you'd remembered from the times when your back would be comfy against the mattress and your body shadowed by his broader frame, filling you in a way that made your walls clench instinctively.

“Oh—nghhh Euijoo!” You whimpered, pausing with just the head inside, your body trembling. How the fuck was he this big?

Euijoo chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate, though his eyes burned with restrained hunger. His hands stayed down, fingers curling into the sheets.

“Easy, my love. You’re doing so well.” He said soothingly, “Breathe, baby—just try again hm?” His voice was soft and encouraging, but inside? Inside he was on fucking fire, the sight of you struggling to fit him was driving him wild, like a wolf to some stray deer in the forest.

You nodded, biting your lip, and tried again, lowering yourself further. The stretch intensified, his cock pushing past the initial resistance, and tears pricked at your eyes. He felt huge, splitting you open, and you'd only had him in one position before, where he controlled the depth. Now, it was all you, and the fullness made you cry out, a sob mixing with your moan as you hovered at just a couple inches in.

“Hah—c-can’t!” You whined, tears spilling over, your hands pressing against his chest for balance, “Too big Ju, I can’t—hmmm….”

Euijoo's chuckle deepened, still gentle, but his cock pulsed inside you, betraying his arousal. He would have been a liar if he said this wasn't the prettiest you’d ever looked, tears like the finishing touches of paint on the masterpiece of your cheeks. 

“Shh my love.” Euijoo consoled you, “My brave girl, so perfect for me. Keep going angel, you can do it.”  He didn't touch you, letting you fight through it, though every fiber of him screamed to thrust up and bury himself deep as deep could be humanly defined. 

Wiping at your tears, you took a shaky breath and sank lower, inch by glorious and oh fucking hell did you mean glorious inch, until you had him halfway in. Your pussy fluttered around him, stretched to its limit, and you panted heavily, sweat beading on your skin. 

“Euijoooo…” You pouted down at him, “Help me—hahhh—feel so full…..” You sounded so pathetic, so needy, so damn ready to give up every last bit of your sanity just to make it fit.

It was borderline insane how much you had his composure unravelling so beautifully. Just one word out from the pretty little mouth of yours in that pretty little tone and Euijoo was a gone man. Please, you’d said, his pretty angel asking him so politely. Now who was he to refuse? 

“Oh?” Euijoo said softly, tilting his head, “I thought you wanted to do it on your own, angel.”

“Can’t…” You whined in anguish, “Can’t do it Ju….need your help, please?” 

“Mmhh,” He hummed, pretending to think, “You sure you don’t wanna try on your own, my love?”

You shook your head frantically. He moved a little as he chuckled and you were like a volcano just ready to erupt. His voice was so soft in your ears, his tone so concerned for you and oh your boyfriend was so pretty and his dick was so good, and you were quite honestly about to die. 

“Please, Ju?” You moaned, rocking slightly to ease the pressure, but it only made you feel him more, “Please—just need it in….I promise I’ll do everything—-ah hahhhh—everything else…”

That was his breaking point. ‘Everything else’, oh weren’t you just fucking sugary sweet? Euijoo's hands shot to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a firm grip.

“Alright, my love.” Euijoo chuckled low, as if he was amused by the gravity of the situation, “Let’s settle you in, hmm?” 

In one swift motion, he yanked you down fully, his cock slamming home where it always belonged, bottoming out inside your tight heat.

The sudden fullness overwhelmed you—every thick inch sheathed to the hilt, pressing against your goddamn cervix—and your body shattered. 

A sharp cry escaped as your orgasm crashed over you, pussy clenching rhythmically around him, waves of pleasure ripping through your core. You came hard just from being filled completely, juices soaking his base as you shuddered atop him.

“Already, my love?” Euijoo held you firmly through it all, those beautiful seconds in utmost heaven. He groaned as he felt you clamp down, holding you seated on his cock, feeling your walls milk him. His eyes darkened with possession, he was so thrilled at how easily you'd knotted out for him.

Your body trembled in the aftershocks of that first orgasm, pussy still spasming around Euijoo's cock as he held you impaled on him, his grip on your hips unyielding but gentle. The fullness was intoxicating, every ridge and vein of him pressed deep inside, making your walls flutter with residual pleasure. You caught your breath, tears drying on your cheeks, and met his gaze—those dark eyes smoldering with a mix of tenderness and raw hunger.

“Good girl.” Euijoo whispered, his thumbs stroking circles over your hipbones, “You took me so well, angel. Now go on—make yourself feel good.” 

His voice was soft, coaxing, but the way his dick twitched inside you betrayed how desperately he craved this, reveling in your submission to the act.

You nodded, a shy smile breaking through as you braced your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart under your palms. Lifting your hips experimentally, you rose until just the tip remained inside, then sank back down slowly, an obnoxiously loud moan spilling from your lips at the draaaag of his thickness through your sensitive folds. It wasn't as overwhelming now—the stretch familiarizing itself—but the friction sent sparks up your spine.

It was different from anything before. This was your rhythm, your pace. And you had no idea what to do with this new found power. Maybe get drunk off of it? 

“Oh….Ju….” You breathed, starting a tentative rhythm, rising and falling with shallow bounces. 

Your thighs burned already from the effort, but the pleasure built quickly, your clit grinding against his pubic bone with each descent. You picked up speed, hips rolling in a circle at the bottom, chasing that building heat like a fairy starved of magic dust.

His head tipped back against the pillows, tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief. His breaths became ragged prayers, your name mixed with broken curses and pleas. 

"So good…..fuck, just like that…..my love, my perfect girl..."

Watching him come apart was the most potent aphrodisiac. His usual gentle control was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate vulnerability. You leaned forward, and the change in angle drew a sharp cry from him, his eyes flying open to lock with yours. In their dark depths, you saw it all: awe, adoration, and a surrender so complete it stole your breath.

Euijoo groaned low in his throat, head tipping back as he watched you through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck, yes—ohh nghh—fuck angel, you’re so—ohhh—so fucking perfect.”

He kept his hands light on your hips, guiding without forcing, letting you set the pace. Internally, his blood roared; your boldness, the way your soft moans and whines of his name came, the slick sounds of your pussy swallowing him—it was driving him fucking insane. Euijoo was aching to wreck you.

“Does it feel good?” You asked, voice breathy, leaning forward slightly to kiss his jaw. “Am I……am I doing it right?” You rode him harder, breaths coming in pants, the room filling with the wet slap of skin and your shared moans.

“More than right, my love.” Euijoo rasped, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple, “Keep going angel, don’t stop.”

His praise spurred you on, and you ground down deeper, faster, wilder, the coil in your belly tightening again. But your legs quivered, muscles fatiguing from the unpracticed motion. You hadn't anticipated how tired you’d get after just a few minutes. How the hell did he do this every other day for you?

After a few more determined thrusts, exhaustion hit like a wave. Your rhythm faltered, hips stuttering as you slumped forward, forehead pressing against his chest, gasping for air.

“Ju…I can’t—too much…” You whimpered, still clenching around him, but your body refused to lift anymore. The fullness kept you on edge, pleasure teetering but not quite tipping over.

“Aww my poor baby—tired alright?” Euijoo's chuckle was dark, affectionate, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. “You’ve been so good for me, my love.” He kissed the top of your head, but his hips shifted beneath you, a subtle flex of his abs. “Just hold on tight for me, yeah?”

Before you could respond, he planted his feet on the mattress and thrust up sharply, his cock driving deep into your core. 

The sudden jolt made you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, bucking up into you with controlled power. Each upward snap, snap, snap, filled you completely, his tip battering that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyes.

“Fuck—take it for me, my love.” Euijoo’s voice dropped to that arousing timbre he rarely let slip, hands clamping on your ass like magnets to iron to spread you wider for his thrusts. “Hmm—feel that baby? Does that feel good?” 

You could only moan incoherently, body rocking with his movements, pussy stretched and pounded relentlessly. Forget stars, you could see the andromeda galaxy behind your eyelids as they snapped shut to focus on this delicious, delicious experience.

“Euijoo—oh god, yes! Harder, please!” The words tumbled out, desperate, as he railed into you, the bed creaking under the force. 

His control was slipping, unleashed in the way he angled his hips to grind against your clit with every plunge, sweat dripping down his temple.

"Look at you," he whispered, "Look at what you do to me, you beautiful girl."

His hips began to meet yours in a stuttering rhythm. The force of his thrusts, combined with your grinding pace, pushed you both swiftly toward the edge. The world narrowed to the shared gasps for air and the blinding point of friction where your bodies joined.

You could feel your climax building like a tidal wave, the pleasure threatening to consume you whole as a lover consumes the seeds of a pomegranate. Euijoo's thrusts grew more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by your moans and Euijoo's grunts of exertion.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Euijoo moaned, his hips snapping in a particularly hard thrust. “Hmm my pretty angel—gonna make you cum aaall over my cock. You want that? Say it.”

"Euijoo!"  You cried out, your back arching. “Yes—please, Ju, make me cum!” You begged, tears of overstimulation pricking your eyes again, the pleasure coiling unbearably tight.

"Cum for me, my love," Euijoo commanded, his voice rough with his own impending release. "Good girl ohhhh fuckkk—thaaat’s it, my love.”

His words pushed you over, and your orgasm shattered, juices soaking the sheets beneath. Your pussy clamped down on Euijoo's cock, milking him for all he was worth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Euijoo groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. "Yes baby, nghhh…..."

He came with a broken shout, his body arching off the bed as he spilled deep inside you. The feeling of him pulsing within you, so utterly lost to pleasure, triggered your second climax. You wailed his name, body seizing in ecstasy, riding the waves as kept fucking you through it, prolonging the bliss until you were a trembling, boneless mess slumped against him once more.

For long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing slowly returning to normal. Euijoo’s strong arms, still trembling with the aftershocks of his own release, wrapped around you completely. He gathered you against him, turning you gently onto your side so he could press your back flush against his chest. Every inch of his skin was warm and damp, a perfect mirror to your own.

Euijoo nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his breath a soft, calming tide against your sensitive skin. His lips found your temple, pressing a kiss there that was so tender it made your heart ache. Then another on your cheekbone, another just below your ear—a soft, worshipful trail.

“Shhh, my love,” he whispered, his voice a raw, husky rasp that vibrated through you. One hand splayed possessively over your stomach, holding you close, while the other came up to gently brush the sweat-damp hair from your forehead. “My perfect, perfect angel. You were so good. So brave for me.”

He pressed another lingering kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, carefully, he shifted. His softening cock slipped from your body with a soft, intimate sound, making you both shudder with a final, gentle aftershock. He didn’t let go for a second. He simply adjusted his hold, rolling you both just enough so you were nestled side-by-side on the messy sheets, facing each other.

His eyes, dark and soft and full of a love so profound it stole your breath, searched yours. His thumb traced the apple of your cheek, wiping away a stray tear of overwhelm.

“Rest now, my love.” Your beloved breathed, “I love you so so much, yeah?” Euijoo leaned in to capture your lips in a chaste kiss—soft and endlessly sweet. 

Byun Euijoo was the love of your life.

Byun Euijoo was yours and you were his and everything was hunky dory in this crazy life. 

And all that was left was to giddy up!

fin. 

A/N: if it wasn't obvious enough, hi i am in love with this man. the day a euijoo giddy up edit comes on my fyp is the day my grave shall be filled. Remember when i said Killshot Baby was my favourite child amongst my fics? Yeah i think giddy up has taken her spot now!

divider by @bonnieknowsbest

&team taglist: @eu1joo @kwnnies @nichozzystuffs @blueuijoo @pglpblm @ikigaijo @leehancore @dearvampyr @riri4andy @tokunodoll @sunsoomi @makizdoll + Shoot me an ask or comment to be added!

So now, Jungwon is alone in a sea of legacy kids and meatheads, feeling the heaviness of the fraternity's history pressing down on him from the dark wood paneling of the walls.

At the front of the hall, the requirement officer stepped onto a raised platform. He was a senior with a cold smirk that suggested he enjoyed this part of the job a little too much, he definitely enjoyed the way the room went dead silent as he leaned into the microphone.

"Congratulations on making it this far, pledges," he began, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "But before you get your pins, there is one final requirement. A test of charm, stealth and most importantly, this is a test of audacity."

"By midnight, every one of you must retrieve a pair of panties from a girl currently residing in a sorority house. And because some of you cum socks tried to raid a laundry hamper last year, there's a new rule—you must return with the girl in person. If she isn't here with you by the time the clock strikes twelve, do not bother coming back at all."

A collective groan rippled through the hall but Jungwon didn't move. While the other guys started panicking and checking their contact lists, a spark of memory ignited in his mind.

He didn't have many connections on campus yet but he remembered a girl he'd bumped into during a motivational seminar during orientation week. He'd thought you were cute, smart too but in the chaos of that first week, he'd forgotten to get your name or your number. He only knew two things—you were a freshman just like him and you were rushing a sorority on campus.

He checked his watch, it was already 10:50 PM. He had less than two hours to find a girl whose name he didn't know and convince you to participate in a ridiculous fraternity hazing ritual.

Jungwon couldn't stop the rush of pure disbelief he felt thinking of how ridiculous this was, he had expected something difficult, perhaps even something a little humiliating but this was a proper fucking nightmare. He didn't just want to finish this for himself anymore, he also wanted to get through it just so he could hold it over Jake's head for the rest of the semester.

The cool night air hit Jungwon's face as he shoved past the heavy oak doors, his mind already racing through the grid of the greek row. His anger toward Jake hadn't fully dissipated but it was being rapidly replaced by a singular focus.

He knew the top tier houses were clustered on the north side of the row. If you had succeeded in your rush and looking the way you did, he had no doubt yeah no doubt you had, you'd be in one of those three houses.

He reached the steps of the first house, the music from an indoor social thumping through the brick walls. He took a breath, smoothed down his shirt and prepared to start the search. He didn't just need those panties, he also really needed the chance to finally finish the conversation he'd started three weeks ago.

Jungwon didn't waste any time, he was swinging open random doors, bracing himself for screams or a face full of pepper spray but instead he was met with a bizarre sense of normalcy. The girls inside the house weren't even flinching, they were mostly lounging on beds or scrolling on their phones, looking at the sudden influx of frantic freshmen with a mixture of boredom and amusement. He figured there had to be some long standing or unspoken agreement between their houses, from a tradition passed down through years of greek life that made this ridiculous raid an expected annual event.

The house was quickly becoming a circus, with guys everywhere, some attempting smooth pick up lines that fell flat, while others were literally on their knees, begging for a scrap of fabric like their lives depended on it.

Jungwon shook his head, trying not to laugh as he watched a fellow pledge nearly burst into tears over a refusal. He turned to scan the main dining area and that's when the world seemed to sharpen.

Because there you were, sitting at the long oak dining table, tucked into a conversation with another girl. You were leaning back, laughing at the absolute absurdity of the boys swarming the room. The moment your eyes drifted toward him, the laughter stayed on your lips but your expression shifted into a look of genuine recognition.

"Oh," you say, your voice cutting through the chaos of the room as you tilted your head. "Orientation boy?"

Jungwon't heart did a strange skip, he'd spent a month kicking himself for not getting your name or number after that seminar and now, standing in the middle of a panty raid, he felt like he'd finally caught the break he'd been looking for.

"I'm surprised you remember, it's Jungwon, by the way," he said, closing the distance between you, his confidence returning tenfold. He leaned against the table, ignoring the other pledges scrambling around.

"Y/n."

"I've spent the last three weeks trying to remember your name and here you are, laughing at me while I'm in the middle of a crisis."

You let out a soft laugh, resting your chin on your hand as you look him up and down. "I didn't even know you were the fraternity type," you tease. "I figured you were more into...I don't know, overachieving? Since you attended that seminar willingly."

Jungwon scoffs, a hand going to the back of his neck as he shifts his weight. "I'm really not but my friend spent a solid month dragging me into this and swearing it was the only way to survive freshman year, just to bail on me tonight. Now I'm the one standing in a sorority house with a deadline."

"That's tough," you say with a playful look in your eyes. "But hey, if you need a pair of panties that bad...you can have mine. Consider it a favor for a familiar face."

Jungwon's eyes widen, his breath going uneven for a second. A rush of excitement hits him, thinking of how this would probably be the easiest win of the night but then he pauses. He looks at you and the reality of the request settles in. Taking something so intimate from a girl he actually kind of likes, especially under the watchful eyes of fifty other guys, suddenly feels uncomfortable.

"I—uh...I should probably say no," he mutters, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. "I mean, thank you but it feels weird. Like I'm just taking advantage of the fact that we met once."

"Don't be so tense, Jungwon," you say, standing up from the table. You check the time on your phone to see that it's only eleven. You have an hour before he needs to be back in his house.

"Tell you what. We can head up to my room and hang out for a bit. We'll catch up and talk about how much orientation sucked ass and then you can take them when it's time to head back. It'll be less weird if we aren't standing in the middle of a circus, right?"

Jungwon looks around at the chaos, at the begging, the shouting, the sheer desperation of the other guys and then back at you.

The choice is pretty easy.

"Yeah," he says, a small smile finally breaking through his frustration. "That sounds a lot better than standing here."

Jungwon follows you up the stairs, the noise of the chaotic raid downstairs fading into a dull hum as you reach the quiet corridor of the freshman wing. When you push open your door and step inside, the room is dimly lit, smelling faintly of cinnamon and your expensive perfume.

The moment the door clicks shut behind, he's completely stunned that you turn and immediately press your lips to his. It's not even a tentative brush, you press your lips to his in a confident kiss that catches him entirely off guard. Jungwon's eyes widen in shock and his brain panics causing him to instinctively stumble backward. He isn't looking where he's going and so his head connects with the solid wood of the door with a dull echoing thud.

"Ow—!" he winces, reaching up to clutch the back of his head.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" You pull away instantly, your hands hovering near him, unsure whether to touch him or keep your distance. "Are you okay? I—I'm so embarrassed. I thought...I completely misread the signals, didn't I? I am so so so sorry, Jungwon."

He groans softly, rubbing the sore spot but he manages to give you a pained laugh. "It's okay, really. My head is just...a bit harder than I thought. You don't have to apologize."

You sink onto the edge of your bed, twirling your fingers into the loose thread of your skirt and looking everywhere but at him. The confidence you had downstairs has evaporated and now you feel extremely vulnerable.

"I'm just...this is really my first time away from home," you admit quietly. You tell him about your strict parents and the years of living under their thumb, where every move was monitored by even your overprotective older brother. "I guess I just thought college was supposed to be like the movies—all about hooking up and being bold. I thought that's what people did here. I didn't mean to make it weird."

Jungwon slowly lowers his hand from his head, his expression softening as he looks at you. The mission for the fraternity feels so silly now. He sees the girl from the seminar again—the one who was just trying to figure out where she fit in.

"Hey," he says gently, stepping away from the door to stand in front of you. "You don't have to put on an act for me. I'm just a guy who got ditched by his best friend and is currently failing a hazing ritual. I think we're both just trying to figure this out."

Jungwon watches the way you're tucked into yourself on the bed and all the frustration from the night, including the anger at Jake and the pressure of the frat completely drains away. He takes a step closer before sitting right next to you, his shadow falling across your lap, and reaches out to gently tilt your chin up so you have to look at him.

"You don't have to follow some movie script," he says with a voice that sounds way steadier than he feels. "And you didn't read the signals wrong. I just wasn't expecting you to be that brave."

He leans in, pausing just inches from your lips to give you every chance to pull away. "Slowly this time," he whispers, a playful smirk on his mouth.

You let out a breathless giggle that vanishes the moment his lips touch yours. This kiss is so sweet, soft enough to make your head spin and you don't want it to end. But as his hands find the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the sweetness quickly catches fire. He darts his tongue out and the kiss turns hot and a little rough.

He moves on had to your waist and you take that as your cue to immediately straddle his lap. Jungwon's breath hitches as he feels the weight of you, your heat radiating through his clothes. He's confident, sure but he was a high schooler only three months ago and he's never had a girl this gorgeous so eager and needy in his lap.

"W—Wait—we should...we should probably slow down," he mutters against your mouth, even though his hands are grabbing at your thighs and ass, his heart is even hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"Please?" you whisper in a shaky plea as you lean down to trail kisses along his jawline. "You're so hot, Jungwon. Please just touch me."

The sound of his name on your lips, followed by a beg like that, snaps the last of his composure. He does what he thinks is ideal, sliding one hand up to cup your breast through the fabric of your baby tee. He's so careful, almost doting but the sensation makes you gasp and you don't let him stay that careful for long.

You reach down, grabbing his other hand and guiding it firmly beneath your skirt to the waistband of your panties. Jungwon's eyes widen in shock but there's a jolt of pure electricity surging through him as he feels dips his fingers past the waistband and feels how slick and wet you already are.

Damn, he thinks, his head falling back as a low groan escapes his throat. You're a horny little thing, aren't you?

He stops overthinking, if this is how you want to spend your first real night of freedom, he's more than willing to be the one to show you exactly what you've been missing. Jungwon finds your flow quickly, his fingers sliding against your damp pussy with a confidence that rivals his own racing heart. He lets out a surprised huff of air against your skin. "You're so wet," he murmurs. "I haven't even really started yet."

He shifts his focus to your neck, his lips and teeth grazing the sensitive skin there while his thumb finds your clit and he begins to rub in steady, firm up and down strokes that make your breath turn into shrieking whines.

The sound of your own voice in the quiet room makes you feel like such a bad girl. You can almost feel the weight of your parents' expectations, their certain disappointment if they could see you now—straddling a boy you barely know in a dimly lit sorority room. But the guilt only seems to highlight the pleasure, making every touch feel forbidden and electric.

"Poor thing," Jungwon whispers against your ear, his voice laced with a sudden and somewhat protective heat. "You've been wound so tight, haven't you? Just waiting for someone to let you loose."

You're already shaking, your thighs trembling against his hips as you involuntarily start to hump his hand, like you can't help yourself. The need is overwhelming, like a physical ache that demands to be satisfied. You're so eager and desperate that you end up overpowering him, your weight shifting until you push him back against the pillows and he lets out a choked groan as he hits the mattress but he doesn't stop his hands.

You're basically riding his fingers now, moving with frenzied jolts that make him see stars. He watches you from below, your hair messy and your eyes blown wide with lust and he can't help but imagine what it would feel like to have you riding his dick with that same horny intensity.

"You're incredible," he gasps, his fingers working faster as he tries to keep up with you, his thumb is still rubbing your clit while another finger is prodding at your hole cause he's unsure whether you're a virgin or not. "Mmm. Just like that—Fuck—You're so pretty."

All it really take his him pinching your nipple a little and you let out a scream muffled against the back of your hand, your body shaking as the sweet friction of his fingers finally sends you over the edge. "Jun—Oh shit! I thi...I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

You look so beautiful thanking him for making you cum that he can't help but smile, he can't help but think of the other things he can get you to thank him for as you collapse against chest, trembling and babbling incoherent sentence while the aftershocks of the orgasm wave through you.

He pulls out his damp fingers from your panties, ready to ask you to put your number in his phone but your gaze is locked on the rigid line straining against the denim of his jeans. You do not hesitate, reaching out to grasp him through the fabric, your fingers curling around the length of his hard cock.

"Wait—wait," Jungwon breathes, his voice cracking as he catches your wrist. He is a man of discipline, yes and despite his raw confidence, a streak of genuine protective instinct flares up. "We really…I don’t think we should go that far tonight. I...I don't want to seem like I'm just using you for a requirement."

But you aren't listening to his logic. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck, your tongue darting out to lick the pulse point that is hammering wildly. You move to his ear, nipping the lobe before whispering another plea that makes his knees go weak.

Jungwon squeezes his eyes shut, his head falling back against the bed. He is just a man, after all and the combination of your wet pussy, your perfume and the way you are practically begging for him is an impossible force to fight. His grip on your wrists loosens, his hands falling to his sides in a silent surrender.

"You're going to be trouble for me, aren’t you?" He asks in a groan but before he can even process the shift in his own resolve, your hands are at his waist. With a clumsy certainty, you pry his belt loose, followed immediately by the pop of his jean button.

You make quick work of the zipper and Jungwon lets out a jagged breath, even helping you by lifting his hips as well as you, so you can drag his jeans down as much as it can go in this position. He is officially past the point of no return and the fraternity feels like a lifetime away compared to the urgency of your touch.

Jungwon's large hands make their way to your hips, the heat of his palms searing through your skin. "Do you even know what you're doing right now?" he asks you.

When you shake your head and give him an honest "No." He suddenly shifts you with a powerful movement, manhandling you until you are positioned perfectly above him. You are sitting directly over the hard length of his cock but there is still a frustrating barrier, your now damp panties and the cotton of his briefs are the only things keeping skin from skin.

The sensation is agonizingly hot and he can feel the moisture from the orgasm he just gave you soaking through your underwear, rubbing against him with every tiny, involuntary shiver you make. He is already pushed to his limit and it doesn't help that you can't sit still.

He isn't surprised when you begin to move on your own, rolling your hips in a feverish attempt to dry hump him through the layers. He grunts and grips your waist tighter until his knuckles start turning white.

"Shit. You're going to make me lose it," he says while trying to match your erratic pace.

"I can't believe it feels this good," you whine, your voice breaking as you roll your hips against him. You lean down, letting your hair brush against his face as you whisper into his ear, "I just...I can't wait to finally have sex. I've waited so long."

Jungwon's heart hammers a disastrous rhythm, he has never felt this desired before and when he looks up at your face, a possessive thought fills his mind—he wants to be the one.

"You really want this, don't you?" he rasps, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs then your asscheeks, squeezing firmly to guide your movements. "Move for me. Faster, just like that."

You don't need to be told twice, you’re already moving like a bunny in heat, your damp panties making your clit catch on the ridge of his cock head through his briefs. The sensation is overwhelming and when Jungwon feels the usual tightening in his lower stomach, he almost can’t believe it.

No way, he thinks, trying his best to hold back from how badly he wants to moan out and whine just like you’re doing. What the fuck? Am I really going to cum from just a little dry humping?

"Shit...fuck," he groans again, the curses tumbling from his lips as he loses the battle for composure. He reaches up, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you down into a messy kiss.

"I bet your pussy is so tight," he says against your lips, his hips bucking upward instinctively to meet your rhythm. "Don't stop. God, don't stop moving."

He is completely at your mercy, his fingers digging into your skin but the way you are humping him is stripping away every ounce of his self control is driving him mad. Every time you slide forward, the dampness of your underwear catches against him and sends another jolt of pleasure straight to his core.

"My pussy is tight, I can—I can barely get one finger inside." You whine and that does it, your words couples with the drag of your wet lace against his cock is the final straw. Jungwon's eyes fly shut and his spine arches off the mattress as he lets out whine after whine. He is cursing under his breath, his hands clutching your hips so hard his fingerprints will surely linger, as he cums right there in his underwear. In the dim light of your room, he looks so pretty and flushed—his hair messy and his chest panting cause he’s trying to find his breath again.

You watch him with wide, curious eyes, finding the sight of him so pretty in his undone state. "Is that what happens?" you ask softly, tilting your head.

Before he can even formulate a coherent sentence to give you, you reach over to your nightstand and pull out a box of baby wipes, offering them to him with a shy smile. He looks at the box, then back at you, a half delirious laugh escaping his throat. "You're really something, aren't you?" he rasps, taking a wipe to attempt a quick, awkward cleanup.

Despite the pleasure being over, he notices you haven't made a single move to get off him. You are still straddling his lap, your weight warm and grounding against his thighs. He stops mid wipe to look up at you with a gaze that has softened significantly. He doesn't say it out loud but as he feels your arms wrap loosely around his neck, he finds himself hoping that you are the clingy type.

He holds you for a short second, letting his heart hammer against your own. He pulls back just enough to look into your hazy eyes, his mouth opening to ask for a real date, when his eyes snag on the digital glow of your bedside clock.

11:55 PM.

"Shit!" he hisses, the adrenaline of the mission slamming back into him. "We have five minutes!"

The romantic bubble bursts, replaced by a messy, laughing scramble. You do not hesitate to slide your panties down your legs, they’re completely soaked and heavy from your cum but you shove them into his hand anyway and he doesn't even look at them before stuffing the damp fabric into his pocket as you both bolt out of the room.

The run across the row is a blur of cold night air and your hysterical laughter. You are sprinting in your shoes while Jungwon grips your hand like a lifeline. You burst through the heavy oak doors of the grand hall just as the clock begins its first chime of midnight.

Jungwon is bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air but a victorious smile is etched on his face. He is the last pledge to arrive but he made it. He has the proof in his pocket along with the girl of his dreams by his side and he is so ready to look Jake in the eye and gloat in his face.

The requirement officer from earlier walks down from the stairs, his eyes scanning the room at the less than thirty pledges that managed to make it back with the mission complete but when his eyes land on pair of you. He looks at Jungwon, then his gaze shifts to you and his entire face goes from smug to thunderous in a split second.

"Jungwon," he says in a voice so angry Jungwon has to wonder where he fucked up. "Is that my fucking sister?"

Jungwon's smile disappears, his hand still intertwined with yours. He looks at the officer, then slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes wide with a horrifying realization.

You offer a weak, not so apologetic wince. "Oops."

nene’s note ── had no real plans on posting this and that’s why there’s no banner, call it ‘enhablr fatigue’ the way i’m so tired of what this place has become. but to those sticking around and rocking with us, thank you and i hope you enjoy this short story 💋 as you know i love feedback.

taglist i ── @fancypeacepersona @usuallyunlikelyfox @starry-eyed-bimbo @strayy-kidz @mheretoreadff @bloomiize @xoenhalover @mamuljji @gabrielinhaa @ieatwon @rialikesbts @lunacrtk @dulcetnostalgia @lovel1z @kristynaaah @c1eod1n3 @kiikiisblog @pqrkjyx @tojiworshipper @loverseon @yazmike @ravenslocked @enhxlvr @mangoescrazy @hees-h0e @stayalittlelonger143 @hazevelyn @sour-chaos @skzenhalove @mochi-mika @simjakersss1009 @isagistar @baedreamverse @jvngw0nlvr @deobitifull @prettygirlthings-world @ravenslocked @ricecakeslove @lenolalalie

© nephynes 2025

buckle up, babies. this is gonna get INTENSE.

— JUNGWON

Is it just me who’s utterly obsessed with the little “slit” in the middle of his tongue?

GIVER.

Lately, I’ve been watching fancams or even behind the scenes footage of Jungwon and constantly think: dude. Keep your tongue INSIDE your mouth. Which somehow leads me to the following conclusion: this boy has an oral fixation and he’s so cocky about it. Like, that’s muscle memory at this point.

Jungwon is a pussy eater. And when I say eater, I mean he is DEVOURING you and that’s not to get you off but himself. Oh, he’s so fucking annoying! Keep those legs closed, baby, because his head will pop up unannounced between them and it will be the end of you because best believe: he is keeping tracks on how many times he’s made you cum with that beautiful muscle inside his mouth. And he intends to always add one more each time he finds himself nose deep in your cunt. It’s a little competition for him. Fun. It’s all just fun for him and you’re absolutely ruined for the rest of the day. You think he stops once your legs are shaking and you’re shamelessly releasing all those juices right into his mouth?

He’s pulling you back twice as hard, flipping his tongue against your swollen and overstimulated clit while you try to push him away, but you don’t stand a chance. He’s been working out, you know? (Pls get the reference).

I could write a whole story about this (I actually already did), but facesitting? I mean, naturally, you’re embarrassed about it at first. This idea of putting your entire weight onto Jungwon, grinding yourself against his stuck out tongue, like, that’s just nasty isn’t it? Don’t worry. Those thoughts will be out of the window once you see those beautiful eyes looking up at you from below, staring into your soul with pure pleasure. He NEEDS you right there. Using him like a fucking sex toy. He might be a dom, but nothing gets him off more than this. You can literally see his cock twitching from your position. And best believe he’d rather pass out from suffocation than having you leave your place.

— HEESEUNG

RECEIVER.

What’s a better stress reliever for hardworking Heeseung than a messy blowjob inbetween schedules? He likes the convenience of it and the way your lips look so pretty, plump and glossed around his hard cock.

I think out of all the others he’s leaning most towards having a thing for public sex. I do think all of them prefer the comfort of their own homes, but Heeseung likes to take risks, as long it’s still not too public, you get me?

Like, backstage in a dressing room he knows nobody is gonna walk in while that tiny, tiny chance that someone still does, still exists. He knew once he’s fucking into you, he won’t be able to stop himself, but nothing speaks against a quick blowjob and you’re more than willing to give that to him. It’s like a drug, his personal drug; the way you wrap her arms around his tip as soon as you freed it from his pants (by just pulling them down until he ha practically jumped out against your cheek.)

And five minutes later he has his hands in your hair, bonus points if you’re wearing it in a high ponytail that he can just grab and guide. Not rough but still teasing, it hurts a little but it makes the entire scene just hotter and hotter.

Oh, an he always cums inside, making sure you won’t let a single drop of his precious seed go to waste. Fuck, he’s NASTY with it, who am I kidding. He’s even wiping the corner of your mouth that’s dripping his cum.

… just to lick it off himself.

— JAY

Fair balance.

Oh, he’s romantic with it, not gonna lie. While for Jungwon, Jake and Riki, oral sex as itself is a way to spend a whole day, or night, or both, I think for Jay it serves more of a “foreplay”-purpose. Or afterplay, if that’s even a word (I def made that up, didn’t I?). Like, he enjoys it, but more so because he knows it’s driving you crazy.

Also, it’s not that he’s not good! There’s just other things he’s better at. The guy is a guitarist and he plays you like one too. He’s someone that, while he’s sucking and licking at your click, he pumps his fingers inside of your oozing hole, knowing exactly how to curl up his fingers in order to penetrate your g-spot. Jay treats this like a science. He also knows all the specific names, yeah, he KNOWS what he’s doing and it’s so insanely attractive.

“You can do one more, darling”, he coos into your ear as the room fills with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping into you. Then he dives right back in, kissing at your inner thighs as he inhales your sweet, intoxicating scent.

And even though you whimper back how you literally can’t, he shakes his head and he looks weirdly gentle. As if he had studied your body and just knows you’re not THAT done yet.

For himself, he does enjoy the way your soft, warm tongue runs along his length. He lets himself fall deep into that feeling, but nothing beats being inside of you.

— JAKE

hold me back.

GIVER. GIVER. GIVER. GIVER.

oh he’s a dangerous one. Sound the alarms, guys. Call an ambulance because you’ll certainly end up severely dehydrated from gushing your juices right into his beautiful face all night and day.

Jake does not stop.

He’s much like Jungwon in a way, but for him it’s not about being cocky as fuck, he’s just truly loving how much he’s pleasuring you. Hearing your moans and squeals is like music to his ears and even though his jaw already hurts from how much he’s been sucking, leaping, tugging and sucking on your clit and folds, he does not stop until he’s made you cum at least, like, 3 times or something. (I’m the number 1 sub!jake defender guys.).

He’s def the type of bf that likes to lay between your legs, cheek resting on your thighs as you’re both just scrolling away on your phones and then suddenly, you feel him tugging at your pants, pulling them down just so much that he could press kisses to your hips. That’s how it usually starts. And it ends with your legs wrapped around his head, pulling him closer to your core as he fucks his tongue in and out of you.

And let me tell you: he’s got a fucking talented tongue but the difference between pussyeater!Jungwon and pussyeater!Jake is very clearly in the way Jungwon is super precise with his tongue: kitten licks, twirling around your clit as if he’s dancing after he’s found THE spot. And Jake is just MESSY. His tongue is everywhere all at once: lapping at your clit, then he’s suddenly tipping inside your entrance, then again he’s suddenly all over your folds. He would also 100% spit on it even though you’re already wet as fuck. Well, it’s more like a drool because he’s just that hungry.

Bonus: cause I love him with his glasses on: Jake getting your pretty juices all over his glasses.

Bonus Bonus (im def gonna write a one shot about this): “Ok, Y/n. If you win this Mario kart game, I will grant you a wish. If I win, you let me spend the entire night between your legs. Pretty please?”.

GOODNIGHT.

— SUNGHOON

RECEIVER.

Don’t hate me for this, but I think Sunghoon isn’t that big on oral. I think there are other parts of your body he’s more obsessed with, like your ass and your tits. He’s definitely sucking on your tits every chance he gets, especially when he’s fucking you.

It’s the hottest and most convenient way to hide his own moans.

I do think he enjoys a lazy blowjob though. Him laying on his bed, you between his legs as you play with his cock. Slow strokes at first, then you begin twirling your tongue around his reddened tip. It’s all still slow, almost cozy. A simple Tuesday afternoon activity, almost. But while I think your blowjobs usually start like this, I just know Sunghoon looses his patience FAST.

He’s definitely buckling up his hips just a few strokes later as she lets out the dom in him. He holds your pretty face steadily, pressing your head down gently as he fucks up into your mouth and he can’t help but enjoy the way you’re slightly tearing up.

“Sorry, Y/n. I couldn’t help myself when you looked so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”.

What gets him really off is when he gets to finish on your stuck out tongue and opened mouth.

— SUNOO

BOTH.

Did somebody say 69? I don’t know why but in my head, Sunoo is quite experimenting when it comes to sex. He’s also the one who definitely suggested it and how can you say no to that sunshine smile of his? He definitely uses his hands to grab at your ass and pull your folds apart to dive right into your throbbing cunt. He’s a bit hesitant at first, but once he tastes that sweet nectar of yours, he’s done for. His tiny moans vibrate against your clit while yours hit the tip of his cock. And his tip is very, very sensitive. And when you dip your tongue into the little slit? Oh, you’d have him shaking. But the more you do, the more you kiss and lick and suck on his cock, the more he mirrors you and truly eats you out. He’s also a head-shaker if you know what I mean.

Oh, oh! Another Sunoo-position is definitely him being on his knees in front of you rather than the other way around. The way he sits there prettily, hugging your legs, your thighs as he licks a long stripe between your folds, all the way up to your clit. Your hand finds its way into his hair and you press him closer to your core. He looks so happy there it almost makes you laugh.

— RIKI

RECEIVER.

Oral fixation 2.0 but entirely different to Jungwon. I already explained that in my Enha Kink post, but there’s literally no greater view for him than seeing you on your knees in front of him.

This guy is genuinely convinced that his dick belongs into your mouth and nowhere else and he would get off on it so much more once he realises you’re enjoying it even more than he is. Gagging and drooling all over his cock, sloppy sounds filling his bedroom. Or bathroom. Or kitchen. Or living room. He could literally take you anywhere. I’m taking back what I said about Heeseung being the one who enjoys “explicit pda” the most, it’s actually Riki. Like, this is a hot take but I feel like he would not be turned off by people knowing or even watching. 👀.

He’s also so fucking cocky about it. You tell him you’re hungry? He’s gonna say something corny like: “You know what you can have for starters”, and he’d be totally serious about it too. And it would usually result in you on your knees on the kitchen floor. And let me tell you: the fact that you’re just as freaked out as he is makes him love you even more.

Like you guys have no idea how clearly I can picture Riki with this. Like I’m talking an extend of, you’re in the Enhypen dorm and someone like Jake passes him on the way to his room and he feels something kind of off about their maknae, like the way he’s “chuckling” awkwardly after he’d asked him about his day.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, all good Hyung. Just a cramp.”

Little does Jake know, you’re behind that kitchen counter in front of Riki, bopping your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out of your mouth. You finally got him back, all the times he’s been making you feel flustered in front of everyone.

—

I feel like I totally went crazy on this one…

I hope you liked it though!

What do you think?

What should I do next?

Naturally, this means you're taking care of it yourself more often than not, and you're not exactly quiet and careful about it either. The thing is that apartment walls are thin, and your toys are really loud, so pairing that with you having to share the flat with Jake… there's only so much you can do about it.

That's what you tell him over lunch the first, second and third time it happens. You're not really sorry about it, but you do apologize because it's nice to have good manners, especially with the one person you share a space with. By the sixth time, Jake starts to catch up.

"Really stressful week," you offer, coming out of the bathroom with your hands still wet from washing them, and a glow seeping through your skin a simple shit couldn't be the cause of.

Jake's hands twitch on the Switch controller, looking ridiculously bigger in comparison to the red plastic piece. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind, and for a moment he might even look annoyed, but the obvious tent in his gray sweats tells you otherwise. A very eye catching tent. "Figured as much."

"Getting sassy!" You skirt around the dining table on the side of the room, picking up a green apple from the fruit basket, then throw your entire body weight on the small couch, right next to poor horny Jakey.

"And you're getting louder." He glances at you from the corner of his eye, trying his best to keep his gaze steady on your face and not let it wander down to the outline of your nipples peeking through the thin shirt you're wearing—which is his, by the way. Where did you even get that?—or even worse, the skin of your thighs, bare because of the distracting lack of fabric on your panties. "I'd say you're faking it, but you get even louder when Hoon is over, so maybe you're just easy to please like that." He says it with a hint of bitterness in his voice, and the three empty beers on the wooded parquet tell you all there is to know.

Jake gets easy to annoy a few drinks down, add that to the list.

You stop mid apple bite for a second, then resume loudly chewing. Your gaze is fixed on him with that 'everything is amusing' aura around you he dreads and envies both.

"Wash your fruits first." Jake says, a grimace on his face, and you've lost count of how many times you've heard this from him in the six months you've lived together.

"Prove it." It's muffled by your chewing, but Jake hears you loud and clear.

Still, he looks at you like you've grown horns. "Huh?"

"I'm easy to please? Prove it. Do it for me. Let's see where you fall on scale from can't-give-head-Huening Kai to Sunghoon. My toys sit comfortably at a 7."

It's tempting him, you see it in the sparkle of his eyes and the nervous bobble of his throat. He's a starving lion and you're dangling fresh meat right in his face, but then he shakes his head and goes back to his senses, so maybe he's more like a dumb fish that can't see the bait in the first place.

"I'm good," Jake manages, and it comes out so strained, it sounds like it hurts.

Too bad, but life goes on.

You give a shoulder shake then get up from the couch, and as if Jake's life is not hard enough, his shirt just so happens to perfectly rest on your lower back, half of your ass hanging out for him to ogle at as you sway your hips on your way back to your room. "Hoon's on his way, wear headphones or something."

Of course.

You round the corner and disappear into the hallway, leaving Jake and his raging boner alone. He groans, deep and guttural, head thrown back onto the couch and a headache building between his eyebrows, one of his hands carelessly falling to squeeze his cock through the sweatpants. It's been six months of uninterrupted torture, with nothing to do about it without embarassing himself. He doesn't even know where he'd start with finally putting his hands on you. Honestly, he'd probably cum in his pants the second you flashed him a titty.

Then you peek your head again, knowing smirk and teasing tone, and Jake knows he's done for. "Or you can join us, and fight it out with him. He hates when I wear your clothes when he's over. I'm not gonna be on my period until next week, so do something about it because I know you want to."

Naturally, this means you're taking care of it yourself more often than not, and you're not exactly quiet and careful about it either. The thing is that apartment walls are thin, and your toys are really loud, so pairing that with you having to share the flat with Jake… there's only so much you can do about it.

That's what you tell him over lunch the first, second and third time it happens. You're not really sorry about it, but you do apologize because it's nice to have good manners, especially with the one person you share a space with. By the sixth time, Jake starts to catch up.

"Really stressful week," you offer, coming out of the bathroom with your hands still wet from washing them, and a glow seeping through your skin a simple shit couldn't be the cause of.

Jake's hands twitch on the Switch controller, looking ridiculously bigger in comparison to the red plastic piece. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind, and for a moment he might even look annoyed, but the obvious tent in his gray sweats tells you otherwise. A very eye catching tent. "Figured as much."

"Getting sassy!" You skirt around the dining table on the side of the room, picking up a green apple from the fruit basket, then throw your entire body weight on the small couch, right next to poor horny Jakey.

"And you're getting louder." He glances at you from the corner of his eye, trying his best to keep his gaze steady on your face and not let it wander down to the outline of your nipples peeking through the thin shirt you're wearing—which is his, by the way. Where did you even get that?—or even worse, the skin of your thighs, bare because of the distracting lack of fabric on your panties. "I'd say you're faking it, but you get even louder when Hoon is over, so maybe you're just easy to please like that." He says it with a hint of bitterness in his voice, and the three empty beers on the wooded parquet tell you all there is to know.

Jake gets easy to annoy a few drinks down, add that to the list.

You stop mid apple bite for a second, then resume loudly chewing. Your gaze is fixed on him with that 'everything is amusing' aura around you he dreads and envies both.

"Wash your fruits first." Jake says, a grimace on his face, and you've lost count of how many times you've heard this from him in the six months you've lived together.

"Prove it." It's muffled by your chewing, but Jake hears you loud and clear.

Still, he looks at you like you've grown horns. "Huh?"

"I'm easy to please? Prove it. Do it for me. Let's see where you fall on scale from can't-give-head-Huening Kai to Sunghoon. My toys sit comfortably at a 7."

It's tempting him, you see it in the sparkle of his eyes and the nervous bobble of his throat. He's a starving lion and you're dangling fresh meat right in his face, but then he shakes his head and goes back to his senses, so maybe he's more like a dumb fish that can't see the bait in the first place.

"I'm good," Jake manages, and it comes out so strained, it sounds like it hurts.

Too bad, but life goes on.

You give a shoulder shake then get up from the couch, and as if Jake's life is not hard enough, his shirt just so happens to perfectly rest on your lower back, half of your ass hanging out for him to ogle at as you sway your hips on your way back to your room. "Hoon's on his way, wear headphones or something."

Of course.

You round the corner and disappear into the hallway, leaving Jake and his raging boner alone. He groans, deep and guttural, head thrown back onto the couch and a headache building between his eyebrows, one of his hands carelessly falling to squeeze his cock through the sweatpants. It's been six months of uninterrupted torture, with nothing to do about it without embarassing himself. He doesn't even know where he'd start with finally putting his hands on you. Honestly, he'd probably cum in his pants the second you flashed him a titty.

Then you peek your head again, knowing smirk and teasing tone, and Jake knows he's done for. "Or you can join us, and fight it out with him. He hates when I wear your clothes when he's over. I'm not gonna be on my period until next week, so do something about it because I know you want to."

— Já já vou te mostrar o que tem de enorme aqui te esperando. — Assim que chega próximo a você, ele abaixa suas perninhas sem nenhum cuidado e sobe sobre seu corpinho. Se acomoda ali entre suas pernas como consegue e agarra sua cintura num abraço, descansando a cabeça em suas costas. 

Riki fica alguns minutos ali, olhos fechados, cantarolando as próximas músicas que tocam. Mas sua risadinha chama a atenção dele, claro, você ainda estava no celular. 

— Pô, vai me deixar pra escanteio mesmo? — Ele resmunga, você não precisava ver para saber o biquinho que obviamente se formava nos lábios de Hirota. 

— Que carência... Já não ficou grudado em mim o dia inteiro? — Diz simplista, é claro que ama quando ele está um verdadeiro chicletinho assim com você, mas não daria o braço a torcer quando implicar com ele é mais divertido.

— Engraçado, não te vi reclamando assim antes. — Ele desvencilha uma das mãos pesadas de sua cintura e a desce devagarinho, num carinho até sua bunda. Sobe sua camiseta só um pouquinho mais para conseguir vislumbrar melhor a peça rendada que pouco a cobria. Você ri baixinho para si mesma quando ouve o "nossa..." prolongado que ele solta.

Riki desce beijinhos preguiçosos desde a sua cinturinha, onde estava descansando, até a carne rechonchuda da sua bunda. Ele enche a palma com gosto e aperta deliberadamente, você sente a boquinha dele deixar rastros molhadinhos por onde passa. A mão sorrateira engancha os dedos no tecido da calcinha, prontinho para passar pro ladinho e dar atenção ali também.

— Toda marrentinha hoje, né? Tá extrapolando já. — Comenta quando finalmente arreda a peça rendadinha para o lado. Desliza os mesmos beijinhos até sua intimidade, os polegares de ambas as mãos, que ainda agarram sua bunda, afastam suas dobras meladinhas, expondo sua bucetinha a também receber os selares. — Vou ter que te meter pica até ficar mansinha, hm? — Ele põe a língua para fora e a passa numa longa lambida por toda a extensão de sua vulva. 

O celular já estava abandonado sobre a cama há muito tempo, o carinho das mãos bobas e da boca espertinha de Hirota haviam te fisgado. Porra, ele sabia bem como mexer com você. Desgraçado.

A língua quentinha te inebriava, você mordia os próprios lábios na intenção de reprimir os gemidinhos dengosos que já queriam sair, tudo para não dar a ele o gostinho de já te ter na palma da mão. 

— 'Cê fala muito, Hirota. — Vira o torso o suficiente para avistar a imagem do seu namorado se lambuzando com gosto em sua buceta. Sua mão alcança as madeixas loirinhas e úmidas, você se empina o suficiente para fazer a boca dele colar de verdade em sua intimidade. Ele solta um suspiro pesado com seu ato, imerge a língua em sua entradinha finalmente. Fecha os olhinhos  aproveitando, o nariz masculino roçando seu buraquinho traseiro. — Tão burrinho por uma buceta que chega a ser fofo. — Provoca com um risinho ardiloso. 

Riki então sai do estado hipnótico em que se encontrava, ri desacreditado rente à sua carne babadinha, deixa a posição com um último beijinho em seu clitóris. Ele se levanta sem pressa e para ao lado da cama, bem à sua frente. A toalha acinturada agora frouxa demais, a qualquer momento podendo cair ao chão de surpresa.

Você muda de posição também, sentando-se sobre o colchão. Sequer se preocupa em arrumar a calcinha que o mesmo deixou toda torta, os pezinhos balançam para fora da cama, arqueia levemente o corpo, apoiando o peso nas mãos jogadas para trás. Ambos se entreolham.

— Essa boquinha respondona aí tá precisando ficar ocupadinha pra parar de falar tanta merda. — Hirota se aproxima até estar entre suas pernas, solta a ponta da toalha que estava presa e a deixa cair aos pés. Estaria mentindo se dissesse que sua boca não se encheu de água com a cena... o corpo do seu namorado era escultural. O pau dele sobressalta rijo quando a toalha despenca, a cabecinha brilhante da própria lubrificação parecia prestes a explodir, o comprimento grosso e veiudo, com essas mesmas veias se estendendo até o abdômen e as bolas parecendo tão pesadas.

— Se tava carente de uma mamada era só pedir... Não precisava de todo esse teu showzinho aí. — Se inclina um pouco para frente, sobe o olhar para o rosto de Riki enquanto fala. Leva a mãozinha a segurar na base do pau, o sente latejar sob seu toque. Põe a língua para fora e lambe aquela gotinha que vazava na ponta, rodeando o músculo úmido devagarinho por toda a glande.

Riki fecha os olhinhos com força, esbraveja um "puta merda...", tentando não vacilar, já que sabe o sorrisinho que você esbanja por vê-lo tão fraquinho só de ter sua boquinha torturando ele. Numa tentativa de sair por cima da situação, Hirota agarra seus cabelos e impulsiona o quadril para frente com certa brutalidade, o suficiente pro pau chegar à sua garganta e te fazer engasgar.

Ele pende a cabeça para trás com um grunhido mais do que satisfeito, mantendo seu rostinho ali preso, com seu narizinho roçando a base do pau. Quando você consegue se livrar do aperto dele, está tossindo e sem fôlego, toda babada. 

Riki ri da situação, estende a mão no intuito de acariciar seu queixo, mas você desvia. "Moleque idiota" 

— Pô, vacilei, nada a ver... desculpa, princesa. — Diz, o falso arrependimento acompanhado de um risinho estúpido. Riki não aceita sua negativa ao carinho dele, se curva o suficiente para agarrar seu rostinho com as duas mãos e beijar sua boca.

Você tenta escapar do ato de desculpa de Hirota, agora rindo involuntariamente do quão persistente ele pode ser. As mãos grandes abandonam as laterais do seu rosto e agora tentam segurar as suas, que estão lutando para o afastar. Quando as alcança, ele deita seu corpo de volta na cama, dessa vez de costas para baixo, prende seus braços acima da cabeça. 

— Garoto besta, tá com fogo no cu hoje, é? — Riki se debruça em você, a piroca dura roçando sua coxa. Ele ainda te mantém presa, dá beijinhos no seu rostinho e os desce pro pescoço. 

— Por que tá toda vestida ainda...? — Ele passa a segurar seus pulsos com uma única mão enquanto a outra desce para apalpar seus peitos por cima do tecido da camiseta. — Prefiro quando 'cê tá peladinha. — Liberta seus braços finalmente, logo pegando na barra da camiseta e a puxando pra cima. 

Adora a forma como seu namorado admira seu corpo nu, ele sempre parece se desligar do que acontece ao redor dele para dedicar atenção só a você. Assim que ele joga aquela peça em qualquer canto do quarto, vai direto mimar seus peitinhos. Os apertando com tamanha vontade que até te tira um miadinho. Gruda a boca em um, brincando com a língua no biquinho sensível, o chupando feito fosse tirar leite, enquanto o outro recebe beliscões dos dedos cruéis de Riki.

Sua mão emaranha nos cabelos dele outra vez, você suspira o nome dele ao passo que esfrega as coxas uma na outra, na intenção de reprimir o que sentia entre as pernas. 

Hirota nota, óbvio. Ele abandona a palma do seu seio e, com um gesto hábil, te liberta da calcinha. Os dedos logo após traçando cegamente o caminho até sua bucetinha carente, se enfiando entre as dobrinhas, lambuzando-se no seu melzinho transparente e provocando o grelinho. 

— Porra, princesa... monta no meu pau, vai... 'Cê tá sendo tão malvada comigo, tô merecendo um agradinho... — Penetra um dedo na sua entradinha, só pra atiçar. Desampara seu peito babadinho e captura sua boca com selinhos desleixados.

— Tsc, tão irritante quando fica se fazendo de vítima, a burrinha inocente. — Você zomba de Riki, mas não nega o pedido.

Empurra ele o suficiente para que saia de cima de você e caia de costas sobre a cama. Ele nem tenta esconder o sorrisão que agora enfeita os lábios, apenas ajeita o braço atrás da cabeça e relaxa as pernas. Antes de subir em cima de Hirota, você leva a boquinha até o pau do loiro, olha nos olhos dele enquanto põe a língua para fora e deixa escorrer um fio translúcido de saliva. Ele morde os lábios com aquele maldito sorrisinho lindo.

Você não demora a se sentar sobre as coxas do mesmo, segura o cacete duro com uma mão, espalhando pela cabecinha sua saliva depositada ali, sentindo as fisgadas que o membro carente dá. As músicas ainda ecoam baixinhas por todo o quarto, "Potential" , de Bobi Andonov, é a trilha sonora da vez quando você encaixa a cabecinha romba do seu namorado na sua bucetinha e desliza para dentro. 

Tão molhada, tão escorregadia, fecha os olhinhos numa carranca dengosa quando sente a rola do namoradinho te deixando estufadinha. O abdômen de Riki contraí assim que sente seu quentinho interior cobrir toda a pica dele. Os olhos curiosos dele indo direto para a imagem da buceta arreganhadinha até o final da base do pau, ele joga a cabeça pra trás, deixa o primeiro gemido manhosinho sair. 

— Falei. 'Cê é todo burrinho por buceta, amor... Essa tua marra aí não me engana. — Sussurra toda gostosa pra ele, que parece até hipnotizado.

Apoia as mãos no peitoral largo do namorado, levanta o quadril o suficiente para a pontinha do pau quase sair, para então descer de uma vez, enterrando tudo de novo com um baque da pele com pele. 

O som molhadinho de "plap" ecoa toda vez que sua buceta ensopada engole a haste veiuda até o talo. Você começa a quicar num ritmo mais constante, as mãos de Hirota, cravadas na carne da sua bunda, te ajudam nos movimentos que faz, indo para frente e para trás, se arrastando na rola dele. De cima, você vê como sua aberturazinha se estica para aceitar a grossura e o comprimento dele, como aquele pau sumia dentro de você e reaparecia todo brilhoso com seu melzinho. Te deixando toda molinha.

— Hngnn... porra... Olha só essa buceta boazinha pegando meu pau todinho... 'Cê só fica tranquilinha assim, né? Levando rola. — Ele agarra sua cintura, firma as mãos ali e começa a impulsionar o quadril para cima. Os movimentos longos de antes agora são quicadas curtas e rápidas, seu grelinho roçando tão gostosinho, sua bunda batendo contra as coxas de Riki e as bolas pesadas dele se chocando contra você. Geme tão dengosinha, os peitos pulando na cara de Hirota. — Tá com a boquinha bem caladinha agora.

O ritmo é frenético, ambos os corpos suados, seus olhinhos revirando. Riki leva uma mão da sua cintura até o clitóris, começa a castigar seu botãozinho com o polegar, fazendo movimentos rápidos enquanto ainda soca o cacete em você. Seus gemidos estão agudos, o rostinho numa expressão chorosa.

— Vai, putinha safada... goza, vai. — Praticamente rosna. A pressão é demais. O pau dele te estufando até o fundo e o dedo malvado castigando seu grelinho, você não aguenta. 

Seu corpo trava. Você solta um gritinho estridente e sente seu suco jorrar, cobrindo todo o pau dele, o abdômen, coxas e até mesmo a cama, enquanto sua buceta dá espasmos violentos, apertando a pica do Hirota como se quisesse arrancar a alma dele ali mesmo. Assim que Riki sente o aperto e o calorzinho do seu gozo, o rosto dele já se transforma. A marra cai por terra. Ele começa a arfar pesado, os gemidinhos mais manhosos, o quadril dando solavancos involuntários.

— Caralho... eu vou... Mmnh-nn sai, sai de cima! — Ele sibila, a voz embargada, tentando te empurrar pelos quadris porque sabe que, se continuar, vai descarregar tudo em dois segundos.

Mas é claro que você não iria facilitar pro lado dele. Você trava os braços no peito de Riki, usando seu peso para mantê-lo firme na cama, começa a quicar com gosto novamente, embora esteja tão sensibilizada. São cavalgadas rápidas e brutais, usando e abusando de toda aquela lubrificação sem dó.

— Não é teu pau que me faz ficar mansinha, amor? Então deixa esse caralho aqui, enterradinho em mim. — Provoca, a voz falhando, mas o sorriso presunçoso bem estampado no rosto. Você acelera ainda mais, rebolando em círculos enquanto soca o pau dele até onde consegue. Riki solta um gemido rouquinho, as mãos dele largam sua cintura e vão direto para os lençóis, agarrando o tecido com força enquanto o corpo dele se arqueia todo.

— Ugh, não... p-puta que pariu... — Ele choraminga, o som saindo totalmente manhoso e desarmado, os olhos revirando enquanto você moía o pau dele sem piedade. As veias do pescoço saltadas e o rosto todo vermelho. Você sente o pau dele latejar de um jeito absurdo lá dentro, parecendo que vai explodir a qualquer segundo.

O Hirota dá um último solavanco desesperado para cima, tirando a bunda da cama, enquanto despeja jatos e mais jatos de um leite grossinho e quente bem no fundo do seu útero. Transborda, escorrendo por suas coxas e se misturando com o seu próprio suco. Ele solta um gemido longo, choroso, um "ahhh-hnn..." manhoso que ecoa pelo quarto antes de desabar de volta, totalmente detonado, com os olhinhos fechados e a boca aberta buscando ar.

Você continua ali montada por mais alguns segundos, sentindo o pau dele se acalmar dentro de você, curtindo a visão daquele corpo perfeito, imóvel e suado enquanto ele não está no estado de te provocar por isso. 

— Uau, então bucetada é mesmo o remédio pra deixar marrento calminho! — Você ri, saindo de cima dele com um som úmido de sucção que faz Riki dar um último espasmo.

— Vai se foder... — Hirota cobre os olhos com o braço, soltando uma risada fraca e sem fôlego. — Porra, tu é um perigo, garota. Minhas pernas tão parecendo gelatina. — Deixa um beijinho na boca dele, ainda rindo. 

Você se levanta da cama sem pressa, sua pele brilha de suor, caminhando em direção ao banheiro com aquele rebolado que você sabe que ele é caidinho. Para em frente à porta, a luz do banheiro batendo nas suas curvas. Você olha por cima do ombro, vê ele ainda jogado, tentando recuperar a dignidade.

— A gente precisa de um banho... Você vem ou vou ter que ir aí buscar a princesa? — Hirota solta um palavrão baixinho, o sorriso bobo e burrinho aparecendo outra vez. Ele não pensa duas vezes, mesmo cambaleando, se levanta da cama e vai atrás de você como um cachorrinho. 

— No chuveiro não tem onde você se segurar, viu, marrentinha? — Ele passa por você, dando um tapa firme e sonoro na sua bunda antes de entrar no banheiro primeiro. "Ridículo". 

Gostou? Dá uma forcinha aí! Uma curtida, um reblog ou um comentário são mais do que suficientes para eu saber que você se agradou com meu conteúdo :)

Nishimura relaxa a postura, ajeita o braço atrás da cabeça e assiste, com um sorriso cafajeste nos lábios, você quicando gostosinha no colo dele. A mão livre guia suas sentadas, forçando sua buceta lotadinha a descer até o fim, sentindo o cacete te preenchendo todinha, pra então subir de novo.

Poderia gemer como uma cachorrinha desesperada se não tivesse com a boca ocupada demais levando o pau de Hirota até a garganta.

Porra, ele tá vidrado na cena: sua cabeça num vai e vem guiado pela mão dele, os barulhinhos da sucção se misturando aos das suas cavalgadas, sua boquinha fazendo uma bagunça por tudo, a babinha melando seu queixo quando você tenta fazer contato visual com ele. Seus gemidos reprimidos ressoam sobre a pica dele, e ele precisa se segurar para não encher sua boca de porra.

— Bucetinha boa do caralho, pegando meu pau inteirinho. — Nishimura geme rouco, o semblante franzido, mordendo a boquinha carnuda, as mãos pesadas indo até sua cintura e ajudando você a acelerar as quicadas. — Vou te deixar cheinha, lotadinha de porra... Você quer, hm? Quer que o Riki te deixe estufadinha, princesa? — Fala carregado de tesão, leva uma mão até seu grelinho e ali te estimula, ri sórdido quando sente suas perninhas tremendo e suas sentadas vacilando.

— Quero ver engolir tudinho que eu te der, cada gotinha. — Hirota desce uma das mãos até seu rostinho, acariciando o volume que o pau dele está criando em sua bochecha. O quadril do rapaz não para. — Caralho, continua me olhando com essa cara de putinha manhosa, e eu vou ter que lambuzar seu rostinho lindo também. Quer sentir leitinho do Riki melando você, é? — Dois tapinhas são desferidos em sua bochecha assim que você acena com a cabeça pra ele.

Hirota e Nishimura se entreolham brevemente, uma levantada de sobrancelhas e sorrisinhos cúmplices dizem mais do que palavras. Você acabou de se tornar a favorita dos Riki.

(Lia, this is for u, again)