📍

heeseung

jay

jake

sunghoon

sunoo

jungwon

riki

You laugh breathlessly. “She just fell asleep.”

He leans down, lips brushing your ear.

“Then you better keep your mouth shut.”

Your heart stutters. Your thighs clench.

Heeseung grabs your hips, bends you gently over the kitchen counter, and pulls your sweats down just far enough to expose your soaked panties.

“Oh, you’re ready already?” he says, one brow raised. “Just from me watching you do dishes like a good little wife?”

He strokes one finger up the seam of your pussy, still covered.

You squirm. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Heeseung—”

“No,” he whispers, kissing your spine. “Say it.”

“Please fuck me.”

He slides your panties aside and pushes in slowly—deep—like he’s savoring it.

You gasp, hands braced on the cold counter, the stretch already making your legs shake.

And he starts moving.

Not gentle.

Not rough.

Just… focused.

Possessive.

Like he’s claiming you all over again.

“Look at you,” he groans. “Tight like it’s the first time. Wet like you were made for me. This pussy’s been mine since day one, huh?”

You whimper, trying not to moan too loud.

The baby monitor glows quietly in the corner.

Heeseung sees you glance at it and smirks.

“You scared she’s gonna hear?” he taunts. “Worried our little girl’s gonna wake up and hear mommy getting bred like she asked for it?”

You moan into your arm. Heeseung growls.

“God, you’re so fucking hot when you’re trying to be quiet.”

He grabs your jaw, pulls you up just enough to hiss into your ear:

“You know what gets me off? Seeing you with her. Watching you tuck her in, feed her, kiss her little cheeks like the perfect mother.”

He thrusts harder.

“And knowing that this is what you need when she’s down for a nap. Knowing I fuck you so good, you leak for an hour after.”

You’re shaking. Crying out now.

There’s slick dripping down your thighs, onto the floor. Heeseung grabs your chin, makes you look at your reflection in the microwave.

“Look at yourself,” he growls. “So messy. So fucked out. You want another one? I’ll fill you up right now. Knock you up again while our daughter’s sleeping upstairs.”

You cum so hard your knees give out.

Heeseung holds you up.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Now hold still.”

He fucks you through it. Doesn’t pull out.

And when you feel it—that rush of heat, his cum spilling inside you—you moan like it’s your own orgasm.

Heeseung pants against your neck, then presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“That’s how you start a family vacation.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

The baby’s asleep. The monitor’s on. You’re freshly showered, wearing nothing but a robe, leaning against the headboard with your legs tucked up beneath you.

Jay walks in slowly, towel around his neck, hair damp from his own shower. You smile at him, lazy and soft. He looks at you like he’s been starving.

“You shouldn’t sit like that,” he murmurs, climbing onto the bed.

“Like what?”

He crawls toward you, eyes locked on the part of your robe that’s come slightly undone.

“Like your pussy isn’t the only thing I’ve thought about all day.”

You laugh, but your breath catches when he kisses your thigh. Just above the knee. Then higher. Then higher.

“I’m serious,” he whispers, lips dragging against your skin. “Ever since you got pregnant… ever since you gave birth…”

His hands slide under the robe. Push your thighs apart gently.

“You taste different. Sweeter. Thicker. Like wine.”

You stare down at him, stunned. Flushed. “Jay—”

But he’s already kissing your pussy like it’s communion.

Slow, reverent. Like he’s praying.

He moans into you, loud, unashamed. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. You feel his lips part—his tongue flatten—and then he’s drinking you like he’s been deprived.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away for a second. “You taste like something aged in heaven and bottled for sinners.”

You whimper. Try to close your legs.

He growls. “No. You gave me a child. You really think I’m ever gonna stop tasting you?”

He eats you with slow, devastating focus. Not teasing. Not rushed. Just deep, soft, relentless devotion.

You cum once—twice—he doesn’t stop.

Even when your thighs tremble, even when your hips jerk up, even when your hand grips his hair like a lifeline.

Jay doesn’t stop until you’re crying.

And when he finally comes up, lips shiny, chin wet, eyes dark?

He kisses your stomach.

The stretch marks.

The curve of your softened belly.

The skin he watched stretch around his baby.

“You taste better now,” he murmurs. “Because you’re mine in every way. And I’m never gonna let you forget it.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

He’s been hard all goddamn day.

You’ve been walking around the house in that little tank top, no bra, nipples brushing the fabric every time you breathe. You keep bending over to pick up your son’s toys, bouncing him on your hip like some sweet little housewife. Jake hasn’t had your pussy in a week, and it shows.

Every time you talk to him, his brain short-circuits.

Every time you smile at him, his cock twitches.

Your son Jacob?

Beautiful. Perfect. The light of his life.

Also ruining his sex life.

It’s not your fault. Jake knows that. But he’s still spiraling.

It’s 9:46pm.

The baby’s finally asleep.

You’re barely in the bedroom before he’s on you.

He locks the door. Turns around. And says it—

“Get your ass on the bed before I fuck you against the wall like a rabid dog.”

You blink. “Jake—”

“No. I’ve been jerking off to the memory of your pussy for six fucking days. I came in the goddamn laundry room this morning like a pervert. The second that kid shuts his eyes, I’m in you.”

You’re already backing up. Jake follows, jaw tight, cock fully hard in his sweats.

“You’ve been teasing me all fucking day. Walking around with your tits out like you don’t know what you’re doing. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

He drags your shorts down. Sees your panties. Laughs, mean and low.

“Oh, these are getting ruined. Hope you weren’t attached.”

He kisses you. Rough. Possessive.

Then drops to his knees and spits on your pussy through the fabric.

“Been dreaming about this cunt. Swear to god, baby. You’ve got the kind of pussy that ruins people.”

You’re gasping. Squirming. Already dripping through the cotton.

Jake groans. “Fuck, you’re soaked. You miss this mouth too, huh? Miss being licked until you cry? Look at you—messy and shaking, and I haven’t even pulled the panties off yet.”

He pulls them aside, tongue already out, devouring you like he’s starving.

He’s loud. Sloppy. Mouth wet and wide and relentless.

“Fuck, I forgot how good this tastes. Like candy. Like fucking syrup. Wanna drown in it. Wanna tonguefuck you until you start babbling, baby. Give me that shit.”

You cum in his mouth in under two minutes.

He doesn’t stop.

“You think I’m done? Nah. Not even close. I’m not pulling my mouth off this pussy till your legs stop working.”

“Mamaaaa?”

Both of you freeze.

“Mama, snack please?”

Jake lifts his face from between your thighs, chin soaked. He blinks once.

Then stands up.

Calm. Still. Murderous.

“I’m gonna drop him off at my mom’s.”

You’re panting. “Jake—”

“I swear to fucking god, I love him, but if he interrupts me one more time, I’m going to lose it. I’m on the edge, baby. Your pussy’s dripping, my balls hurt, and my mouth tastes like heaven.”

He pulls his hoodie on. Wipes his face with the sleeve. Grabs his keys.

“Get ready. Because when I get back, I’m going to come in you until you’re stuffed so full you forget your own name.”

He leans down, kisses your pussy one more time.

Smirks.

“Try not to cum without me.”

And walks out the door.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

It’s late.

And Sunghoon’s at his limit.

The boys fought all day—chased each other with brooms, cried over identical socks, tried to body slam each other off the fucking couch. He broke up four WWE reenactments, confiscated two folding chairs, and heard the phrase “Spear him!!”more than a Monday Night Raw announcer.

He didn’t even finish his dinner.

Now you’re on your knees, robe slipped off your shoulders, tits swaying as you crawl between his legs with that look in your eye.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t smirk. Doesn’t tease.

He just pulls his cock out—already hard—and groans:

“Open your fucking mouth, baby. Daddy needs to forget he’s a parent for ten fucking minutes.”

You moan like you were born for it, lips parting, tongue flat as he feeds it to you inch by inch.

“Goddamn,” he hisses. “That mouth. You’ve been thinking about this all day too, haven’t you? Walking around like my dumb little housewife—cooking for our kids while this tight little throat’s just sitting here. Untouched.”

You gag. Loud. He grins. Dark. Mean.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking slobber on it. I want your spit dripping down to your tits.”

And then—

SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.

“DAAAAAADDDD!!!!!!!”

Sunghoon freezes mid-thrust.

You look up at him—dazed, cock still in your mouth, tears brimming.

He blinks.

Clenches his jaw.

Looks at the door.

“DAD!! JAEWON WON’T TAP OUT—HE’S NOT EVEN SELLING!!”

“HE HIT ME WITH THE PILLOW TOO SOFT!! THAT’S NOT A REAL FINISHER!!”

Sunghoon exhales like he’s in prison.

Stares at you. Then back at the door.

And then he laughs. Quiet. Deranged.

“Let them fight.”

He grabs your head in both hands, forces your face down until you’re choking on his cock again.

“They wanna pretend they’re in the ring?” he growls. “Fine. They can wrestle to the sound of their mother being face-fucked.”

You whimper, throat bulging.

“Yeah. Gag on it, slut. Show me how much you missed this. Bet your pussy’s soaked already.”

You’re dripping. Pathetically.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move—but Sunghoon doesn’t care.

He keeps fucking into your throat like it owes him something, hips snapping rough, deep, relentless.

“Don’t stop. Don’t even think about stopping. They wanna scream through the door? Let them.”

You moan around him—loud. Shaky.

One of your tits bounces against your stomach with each thrust, and he watches it like he’s hypnotized.

“DAAAAAAD!!! CAN YOU COUNT TO THREE?! JAEHYUN’S PINNING ME AND WON’T GET OFF!!”

Sunghoon barks a laugh, head thrown back.

“Yeah, hold on—let me just finish throatfucking my wife so I can come count to three like a fucking WWE ref.”

You gag so hard tears stream down your cheeks.

“That’s it, baby. God, you look so pretty with my cock shoved down your throat. Bet they’ll shut the fuck up if they hear you choking on daddy’s dick.”

You cum untouched.

Right there on your knees, body shaking, soaked down your thighs—just from the way he talks to you. The way you knowhe’s been waiting all fucking day to use you like this.

Sunghoon feels it.

He pulls you off, cock soaked, saliva clinging in strings to your lips. You’re panting, teary-eyed, flushed.

“You done?” he murmurs. “Or you want me to make them wait while I use your pussy next?”

“DAD. I’M GONNA DO A LADDER MATCH OFF THE STAIRS IF YOU DON’T COME OUT.”

Sunghoon sighs.

Looks down at you.

Smiles.

“Five more minutes. Think you can handle it, mommy?”

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

It’s past ten. The house is quiet—finally.

And Sunoo is face down in the mattress, one sock still on, his shirt halfway pulled up his back like he got undressed mid-collapse and gave up.

You close the bedroom door softly. Climb in next to him.

“Long day?”

He groans into the pillow.

“She cried because I gave her the green cup instead of the pink one. Then she screamed when I tried to switch it. She said the bubbles in the bath were ‘too round.’”

You smile, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“And then,” he continues, voice muffled, “she fell asleep on me at six-thirty, woke up ten minutes later, and punched me in the nose. I think she might be feral.”

You laugh softly, kissing his cheek.

He rolls over—barely. One eye open. Face flushed from stress and exhaustion and not getting to touch you for four days straight.

“I need you to ride me,” he whispers.

You blink. “Right now?”

“I literally can’t move.” He stretches his arms out uselessly. “My soul left my body around lunchtime. I need you to do everything. Just use me. Treat me like a toy. I’ll whimper, I swear.”

You bite your lip.

He looks so pretty like this.

Messy. Tired. Desperate.

So you peel off your clothes—slowly, deliberately. He watches through heavy lashes, licking his lips when you tug your panties down.

“Please,” he breathes. “Come sit on it. I’m not even kidding. I think I’ll cry if you don’t.”

You crawl into his lap, straddle him gently, and feel how hard he is already—twitching under the waistband of his boxers. You free him with a soft gasp, stroke him once, twice, then sink down slowly onto his cock.

Sunoo whines.

Like, really whines. Head thrown back, hands twitching against the sheets.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “You’re so wet. Baby, you’re so fucking wet. And warm. You’re gonna kill me.”

You rock your hips slowly, grinding down, pussy clenching around him with each roll. He’s not moving at all—just laying there, fully at your mercy, biting his lip and moaning so sweetly it makes your toes curl.

“You’re such a good boy,” you murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck. “Letting me use you like this.”

He whimpers. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

You ride him slow and deep, your tits brushing his chest, his cock hitting just right with every movement. He’s flushed, wrecked, totally silent except for the filthy little sounds leaving his throat.

And when you clench around him hard, he gasps and cries out:

“I’m gonna cum—oh my god—don’t stop, please, baby, I need it so bad—”

You fuck him through it. Harder. Deeper.

He cums with his mouth open, eyes wide, hips twitching under you like he’s about to pass out.

He goes still. Completely still.

Eyes closed. Breathing shallow.

You brush his hair back.

“Sunoo?”

He hums, dazed. “You broke me.”

You laugh, kiss his forehead.

“Do you want water?”

He shakes his head, voice barely audible.

“I want Mirae to sleep till she’s eighteen. Then she can move out.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

You’ve never hated your own child more than you did tonight.

You love Noa—of course you do—but after ninety minutes of pure hell (a tantrum about socks, three fake pees, one real one, and exactly zero full minutes of sleep), you’re about ready to throw yourself out the window.

Jungwon—freshly showered, soft-eyed, hoodie sleeves pushed up, licking the frosting spoon you didn’t get to finish?

You’re gonna ride his fucking face until he can’t speak.

He walks into the bedroom, hair messy, voice raspy. “She’s finally down. I think.”

You’re already pulling your shirt over your head.

He blinks. “You okay?”

“No,” you snap, kicking your shorts off. “I’ve been thinking about 69ing you for three goddamn days and if I don’t sit on your fucking face right now I will cry.”

His jaw drops. “Wait—like, now?”

You crawl onto the bed. “Yes. Backward. Full weight. No mercy.”

He’s stunned for half a second—then his cock jumps in his sweats.

“Oh my god.”

“Lie down,” you growl.

He obeys. Flat on his back, head against the pillows, already hard and leaking by the time you swing a leg over his head. You lower your soaking pussy onto his mouth, facing his cock, and his hands clamp onto your ass like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“Use my face,” he pants. “Fucking sit on it. I can take it.”

And you do.

You drop onto his tongue, grind down hard, moaning when he licks a fat stripe up your pussy and starts sucking like it’s his first meal in weeks.

You wrap a hand around his cock. He gasps into you.

“This nasty little wife,” you mutter, already jerking him off, “riding your face like she’s trying to drown you. Think you’ll pass out, baby?”

He moans. Loud. Unfiltered.

His tongue is everywhere—in your pussy, on your clit, dragging through your folds while you bounce gently on his mouth like it’s your fucking throne.

You spit on his cock. Loud. Filthy.

It lands on the head, stringy and warm, and you spread it down the shaft while you twist your wrist and sink your mouth down on him in one smooth, practiced stroke.

Jungwon chokes.

He jerks once under you—then groans into your pussy, hips stuttering like he’s going to cum already.

“You close?” you giggle, pulling off with a messy pop. “Already? Poor thing. You just want to fill my throat while I cum all over your face, huh?”

He moans. Loud.

You lick a stripe up the underside of his cock and say:

“What if I squirt all over you, baby? Would you drown for me?”

He nods into your cunt. You feel it.

So you bounce harder. Fuck his face faster. Slurp his cock between your lips like it’s your favorite flavor and moan around him when his tongue flicks just right—

You cum first.

Hard.

Your thighs squeeze his head like a death grip as you cry out, leaking into his mouth while he keeps licking, tongue working you through it while his hands pull your ass down, grinding you onto him.

You don’t even give him time to recover.

You suck his cock deep—down your throat, swallowing him whole until he cries out into your pussy and cums down your throat so hard you choke.

You swallow.

Keep sucking.

He whimpers.

When you finally lift off his face, he’s wrecked.

Mouth glazed in your slick, lips swollen, chest heaving.

You wipe your chin, swing around, and lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Next time, you better ask for it. I’m not gonna be the only one begging.”

He blinks. Tries to speak.

Fails.

You smirk.

“Sweet dreams, husband.”

He falls asleep with your taste still on his tongue.

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

The house is quiet. Monitor glowing faint on the nightstand. Just the sound of your breathing and the rustle of sheets as you look up.

He’s already shirtless. Grey sweats sitting low, waistband dipping under sharp hips. Hair messy from running his fingers through it, still flushed from cleaning up the kitchen, checking the monitor twice, pretending he wasn’t aching the whole time.

You blink sleepily.

“Come to bed, Riki.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Just walks to the edge of the bed, climbs in behind you, and presses himself against your back—body warm, hard in all the places that count. His hand slides under your shirt and cups your belly. Not your tits. Not between your legs.

Just your belly.

“I miss this,” he murmurs. Quiet. Low. Dangerous.

You pause.

“You miss what?”

He kisses the back of your neck.

“When you were pregnant.”

Your breath catches.

“Riki—”

“You were glowing. Round. Always out of breath. So soft and full and mine.”

You shiver when his hand slides down—slow, reverent—and presses between your legs.

“Your body knew what I wanted before you did,” he whispers. “Now it’s empty. And I want it full again.”

You turn around to face him.

He’s already hard, pressing up against your thigh. His eyes are wild now, lips parted, flushed all the way to his ears.

“You want another baby?” you ask, barely able to breathe.

He nods once.

“I want you pregnant again, baby. I want you leaking, glowing, begging me to slow down because I won’t stop fucking you.”

You moan.

He flips you onto your back without warning, dragging your panties down, pressing his cock against your soaked entrance.

“You’d look so pretty round again. Tired all the time. Needy. Can’t even ride me properly without whining about your hips.”

You gasp as he slides in, slow and deep and possessive.

“Fuck—Riki—”

“Don’t worry,” he grits out. “I’ll fuck it into you slow. Make sure it takes.”

His thrusts are smooth, devastating. One hand gripping your waist, the other sliding under your shirt to palm your tits.

“These got so big when you were carrying,” he whispers, biting his lip. “So heavy. You hated it. I loved it.”

You whine—louder now. He smiles.

“God, you like it too, huh? Getting knocked up? Being so full you can’t think straight?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

“You’re so ready for it,” he moans. “Already dripping. Your pussy’s so greedy, baby. She knows what I want.”

He fucks you harder then. Deeper. His pace messy and obsessive.

When he cums—hot and deep and shaking—he doesn’t move.

Just stays buried inside you, breathing ragged, holding your hips like he can will it into happening.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “Don’t let it go. I wanna see you big again.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him down into another kiss.

He groans.

“I’ll give you as many as you want. Just keep letting me ruin you like this.”

-

“Stop eye fucking me,” he said without looking up, voice lazy but teasing.

You were sitting cross legged on his desk chair, wearing one of his oversized tees and nothing else, your hair still damp from the shower you’d taken together an hour ago. “Who says I’m looking at you?” you shot back, but your eyes were glued to the sharp cut of his collarbone, the way his abs flexed when he shifted. He was too pretty, and he knew it. That was the problem with Ni-ki. He was all confidence and no brakes, a walking disaster you couldn’t stop crashing into.

He tossed his phone aside and sat up, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Come here,” he said, more command than request. His voice had that edge, the one that made your stomach flip and your thighs clench. You didn’t move, just raised an eyebrow, playing hard to get even though you both knew how this would end.

“Don’t make me beg,” he added, grin widening. “Or do. I’m good at it.”

You snorted, sliding off the chair and sauntering over, exaggerating the sway of your hips just to mess with him. When you reached the bed, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you down, making you straddle his lap. His hands were on your ass immediately, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, lips brushing your jaw before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt but enough to leave a mark.

“Says the guy who’s already hard,” you retorted, grinding against him just to prove your point. He groaned, head tipping back and you felt the bulge in his shorts press against you, hot and insistent. Ni-ki wasn’t shy about what he wanted and right now, he wanted you. Messy, loud and all his.

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” he breathed, hands sliding under the shirt to grip your bare skin. His fingers were long, calloused from dance practice and they dug into your hips like he was claiming you. You kissed him then, all teeth and tongue, no softness, just the raw need to taste him. He tasted like the cola he’d been drinking earlier, sweet and sharp, and you sucked on his bottom lip until he hissed.

Clothes came off fast. His shorts, your shirt, a clumsy tangle of limbs and curses as you both laughed at how desperate you were. Ni-ki’s body was a fucking masterpiece, all lean muscle and golden skin and you couldn’t stop touching him, dragging your nails down his chest just to hear him swear. “Shit, you’re feral,” he laughed, but his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

He pushed you onto your back, the mattress creaking under your weight and spread your thighs with his knees. “Look at you,” he said, voice low, almost mocking. “So fucking wet already.” His fingers slid between your legs, teasing your entrance and you arched into him, shameless. He didn’t bother with slow, he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them just right and you moaned loud enough that the neighbors probably heard.

“Ni-ki, fuck,” you gasped, grabbing his wrist, not to stop him but to make him go harder. He grinned, all arrogance and pumped his fingers faster, his thumb circling your clit until your vision blurred. You were soaked, the slick sounds of his fingers moving inside you obscene, filling the room alongside your panting.

“Gonna make you scream,” he promised, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, his tongue curling around them like he was putting on a show. You cursed him out, half laughing, half begging, and he just winked, reaching for the condom on his nightstand. He tore the packet open with his teeth and you watched, mesmerized, as he rolled it on, his cock hard and flushed, the tip already leaking.

He didn’t give you time to brace yourself, just lined up and thrust in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch. You both groaned, the stretch burning in the best way and he dropped his forehead to yours, muttering something you didn’t catch. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he said, voice strained and you clenched around him just to make him falter.

He started moving, deep and hard, the bedframe slamming against the wall with every thrust. You were loud. Too loud. moaning his name, clawing at his back, leaving red marks he’d probably flex about later. The room smelled like sex and sweat, the air thick with it and you loved how gross it was, how real. Ni-ki’s hair stuck to his forehead, his lips parted as he panted and you pulled him down to kiss him, sloppy and wet, spit smearing between you.

“Fuck the condom,” he said suddenly, voice rough and before you could process it, he pulled out, yanked the latex off and tossed it across the room. You stared at him, shocked but too turned on to care and he just grinned, all teeth and no shame. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you said, but you didn’t stop him when he pushed back in, bare this time and oh god, the difference was unreal. He felt hotter, harder and you could feel every vein, every pulse of him inside you. You both swore, loud and unfiltered and he picked up the pace, fucking you like he was trying to ruin you.

It was disgusting, the way your bodies slapped together, the wet squelch of your arousal mixing with his precum, the way you were both so slick and careless. You came first, the orgasm hitting you like a freight train, your whole body shaking as you screamed his name. Ni-ki didn’t stop, just fucked you through it, chasing his own high and when he came, he didn’t pull out didn’t even try. You felt it, warm and thick, spilling inside you, and he groaned like he’d just won the lottery.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting, sticky with sweat and cum and god knows what else. The room was a wreck, the sheets soaked and you could feel his release leaking out of you, pooling on the mattress. Neither of you cared. Ni-ki lifted his head, smirking like the cocky bastard he was and said, “Round two?”

“babe… don’t move,” he murmurs against your neck, voice low and a little husky, lips brushing your skin with every word. “i missed you so fucking much today. even when you were right here i couldn’t stop thinking about touching you.”

you turn around in his arms and he kisses you right away—slow at first, soft lips moving against yours, but it deepens fast. his tongue slips in, tasting you like he’s starving, one hand sliding up under your shirt to feel your bare skin.

“mmh… you’re so warm,” he whispers between kisses, breathing heavier already. his other hand squeezes your ass gently, pulling you closer so you can feel his cock getting hard against your thigh through his sweats. “feel that? that’s what you do to me… just being you.”

he walks you backwards to the bed without breaking the kiss, laying you down so carefully like you’re the most precious thing. jake climbs over you, settling between your legs, his body warm and solid.

“i love you,” he says softly, eyes all dark and shiny with that lovesick look as he tugs your shirt off. his hands cup your tits right away, thumbs rubbing slow circles over your nipples until they’re stiff and sensitive. “these are so pretty… so soft.” he leans down and sucks one into his mouth, tongue swirling warm and wet, making you arch up with a little whimper.

“jake…” you breathe, and he groans at the sound of his name, switching to the other nipple, sucking harder while his hand slips down between your legs. he rubs you over your panties first, feeling how wet you already are.

“fuck, baby, you’re soaked for me already? good girl…” he pulls your panties down slow, eyes locked on your pretty pussy like he can’t look away. “look at you… so pink and perfect. all mine.”

he doesn’t tease for long—dives in with that eager mouth, licking a long stripe up your folds, tongue flat and warm. “tastes so fucking good,” he mumbles against you, voice muffled and needy. he sucks gently on your clit, two fingers sliding into your tight heat, curling just right while he keeps licking.

“that’s it… make those pretty sounds for me. i love hearing you.” you moan louder, fingers threading through his fluffy hair, and he whimpers into your pussy, hips grinding against the bed because he’s so turned on just from eating you out.

“jake— oh god, right there,” you gasp, and he doubles down, fingers pumping faster, tongue flicking quick and perfect on your clit. “cum for me, baby, please? wanna feel you on my tongue.”

you do—thighs shaking around his head, crying out his name all soft and breathy as it hits you hard. he keeps licking you through it, gentle and loving, until you’re all twitchy and sensitive.

he kisses his way back up your body, lips shiny with your wetness, and kisses you deep so you can taste yourself. “see how sweet you are?” he whispers, grinding his hard cock against your thigh. “need to be inside you so bad… can i, baby? please?” his voice is all desperate and slurred, eyes pleading.

“yes, jake… want you,” you say, and he smiles all lovesick, pushing his sweats down. his cock springs out—thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. he rubs the head up and down your slick folds, teasing your clit a little before pressing in slow.

“fuck… so tight,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours as he sinks deeper, stretching you open inch by inch until he’s buried all the way. “you feel amazing… i love you so much.”

he starts moving—deep, steady thrusts, hips rolling against yours in that clingy way, like he needs every part of you touching. “look at me, baby,” he pants, one hand laced with yours, the other cupping your cheek.

“i love fucking you like this… love being so close.” his thrusts get a little faster, skin slapping softly, your tits bouncing with every push. “you’re squeezing me so good… gonna make me cum already if you keep that up.”

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans loud, burying his face in your neck. “yes— just like that. i’m so in love with you… can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop wanting you.”

his hand slips between you to rub your clit in little circles, voice breaking as he gets closer. “cum with me, pretty girl… please, i need to feel you.”

you cum hard around him, moaning his name all sweet and shaky, and he follows right after—hips stuttering, cock pulsing as he fills you up with warm spurts, groaning into your skin. “fuck, baby… i love you, i love you—” he keeps whispering it like a prayer, still rocking gently through the aftershocks.

after, he doesn’t pull out. just collapses on top of you carefully, arms wrapped tight, cock still buried deep while he peppers your face with soft kisses. “my girl… my everything,” he mumbles, voice sleepy and content, nuzzling into your neck.

“don’t wanna move… stay like this forever with me?”

You were still trying to figure out how you ended up in this situation as you position yourself on the bed. Sunghoon's hands are firm on your hips, positioning you exactly how he wants you : on all fours, ass presented to him. Jake sits awkwardly at the head of the bed, his back against the headboard, looking like he's not quite sure how he ended up in this situation too.

"Relax," Sunghoon mutters behind you, his voice low as he runs a hand down your spine. "He's not going to break."

You glance back at him over your shoulder before turning your attention to Jake, who's already hard despite his nervousness. His glasses are slightly fogged, and his hands rest uncertainly on his thighs.

"Hey," you say softly, leaning forward to take Jake into your mouth. He gasps, his hips lifting instinctively as your lips wrap around him.

Sunghoon enters you from behind in one smooth motion, making you moan around Jake's length. "That's it," Sunghoon murmurs, setting a steady rhythm. "Take both of us at once."

Jake's hands find your hair, his touch gentle compared to Sunghoon's firm grip on your hips. "Is this okay?" he asks, his voice strained.

You hum in response, swirling your tongue around Jake's tip as Sunghoon continues to thrust into you. The contrast between them is dizzying.

"Look at her," Sunghoon says, his voice rough with pleasure. "Taking me so well while she's got your cock in her mouth. Does that feel good, Jake?"

Jake can only manage a choked sound in response, his hips beginning to move in shallow thrusts. Sunghoon chuckles, reaching around to rub your clit in tight circles.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs, his pace quickening. "Being used by both of us."

You nod slightly, unable to speak with Jake filling your mouth. Sunghoon's thrusts become harder, deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside.

"I'm getting close," Jake pants, his grip tightening in your hair. "Y/N, I—"

Sunghoon's fingers work faster on your clit. "Come for us first," he demands. "Let go."

The dual sensations overwhelm you, and you cry out around Jake's length as your orgasm crashes through you. Jake follows with a guttural moan, spilling into your mouth as you swallow every drop.

Sunghoon isn't far behind, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning as he fills you.

For a moment, the three of you stay connected, catching your breath in the aftermath. Then Sunghoon slowly pulls out, collapsing beside you on the bed as Jake helps you sit up.

"Next time," Sunghoon says, his voice still husky, "I want to watch while you ride him."

Jake flushes, but there's a hint of confidence in his eyes as he looks between you and Sunghoon. "Maybe I'll even last longer."

the front door swung open just as you placed your phone down, the familiar thud of sunghoon’s shoes filled the entryway.

“hoonie!” you called, wiping your hands on the towel. you heard your two-year-old son wobbling and giggling in his socks—came toddling around the corner from the playroom, arms raised high. 

sunghoon’s tired laugh drifted in from the hallway as he placed his bag down by the console table. “hyunwoo!” he scooped his son up with one arm, the other already loosening his tie. hyunwoo giggled childishly and planted a kiss on his daddy’s cheek, wrapping his tiny arms around sunghoon’s neck.

sunghoon padded into the kitchen where his wife was cooking—simmering the beef broth. 

“you’re early today,” you hummed, teasing, glancing over your shoulder. sunghoon nodded, smoothly wrapping his free arm around your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest. his other hand still rested under hyunwoo’s legs, the little boy tucked comfortably in his grasp, head resting on his father’s shoulder. 

“yeah—missed my wifey so much,” he murmured against your temple, voice low and tired. he leaned in to press a soft kiss against your cheek, deep and loving. you smiled and giggled when your husband nuzzled into your neck, leaning into him. “i missed you too, hoonie.” 

your heart softened, fingers pausing over the ladle. 

“dinner’s almost ready,” you smiled, humming. “i made your favourite~” 

“gosh, you’re just so perfect.” 

he lingered like that for a moment as you turned off the kitchen heat, steam rising from the pot. hyunwoo babbling softly against his daddy’s shoulder.

dinner was as usual.

hyunwoo sat in his booster seat, swinging his little feet while you spoon-fed him small pieces of beef and softened carrots. sunghoon sat across from you, sleeves rolled up, occasionally having to wipe his little boy’s mouth. 

the tv behind played quietly in the background—a news segment neither of you were really listening to.

the beef broth was rich, the meat was tender—filling the house with warmth, and sunghoon hummed his approval after the spoonful, the corners of his mouth curling softly.

“good as always, hun,” he murmured, nudging your foot playfully beneath the table.

you smiled shyly, heart swelling in that familiar way when the three of you were together like this every dinner. you set your chopsticks down gently, wiping hyunwoo’s chin with a napkin before speaking…

“baby?” you said lightly, glancing up at sunghoon as he sipped his water.

he hummed, glancing at you. 

“about your busan trip tomorrow…” you muttered, nipping your tongue out to wet your lips. sunghoon hummed again in acknowledgement, placing the cup down with a soft thud. you smiled, reaching over to hold his hand over the table. “i was thinking… maybe hyunwoo and i could tag along? or maybe after you go, i’ll drive down to see my parents? it’s been a while. they’re missing him.”

for a second, nothing.

sunghoon’s thumb brushed over your knuckles once—absent, mechanical—before he gently slid his hand out from yours. he leaned back in his chair, exhaling softly, his gaze lowered to the table. 

“what?”

you blinked, smile faltering. “it’s just for a day,” you tried, softer this time, almost pleading. “i’ll drive carefully. i’ll text you when we get there and when we leave. you know the route’s safe. i’ve done it before, you have me on airtag.”

sunghoon’s jaw tightened, though his expression stayed gentle.

“with hyunwoo in the car?” he asked, tilting his head. “on your own?”

the words made you hesitate, feeling yourself smaller in your seat. you didn’t reply.

“baby,” he sighed after a while, standing slowly and collecting the empty dishes, “think about what you’re saying.” next to you, hyunwoo babbled something incoherent, clapping his hands.

you were quick to rise on your feet, stepping around the table to follow sunghoon to the sink. the words tangled in your throat, but you forced them out before you lost your chance. “okay. i just thought i’d ask,” you said, quieter now as you trailed behind your husband, holding the hem of his shirt.

sunghoon paused, his back to you as he rinsed the bowls. his shoulders rose and fell with a slow, deep breath. then, he placed the plates gently on the drying rack, wiped his hands on the dish towel, before finally turned to face you.

“love,” he stepped forward, brushing a strand of your hair with his slightly damp fingers. “i’m just worried about you and hyunwoo’s safety. the highway’s dangerous—you know that. do you wanna leave me alone in this world?” his voice cracked like it hurts him too.

you quickly shook your head, leaning into sunghoon’s hand on your cheek. “of course not…”

sunghoon nodded satisfactorily, smiling. his thumb brushed the apple of your cheek. “hyunwoo can always facetime them. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

yn: not this week mom :(  yn: not safe to drive hyunwoo just by myself. mom: oh… mom: i understand, sweetie.

——

the last time you saw your parents—was probably last year during hyunwoo’s first birthday. you remembered how your dad lifted hyunwoo up with trembling hands, how your mom fussed over the cake she baked, how their laughter filled their tiny living room that it felt like you were seventeen again.

since then, it has been quiet.

christmas, chuseok, seollal—you spent them all at sunghoon’s parents’ house instead. closer, easier, less tiring, safer for both hyunwoo and you. 

that’s what sunghoon said and since that was true—not having to drive up to five hours without the traffic jam just to get to your parents house—you didn’t argue. the city where sunghoon’s parents lived also didn’t have hills and open lakes that could be dangerous for hyunwool—who’s still learning how to run without falling, still curious enough to chase birds and squirrels. sunghoon was just being careful. anything could happen.

but each time you think about visiting your parents… 

something happened.

once, you woke up to find the car tire flat. sunghoon crouched by the driveway, wiping his sweat from his brow as he replaced it himself. “don’t worry about the trip, love. just rest today. tell your parents, they’ll understand.”

another time, you couldn’t find the house keys and sunghoon was on a work trip. you couldn’t even leave the house. you searched for hours, tearing apart bags after bags, pockets after pockets—only to find them days later in the laundry basket. “you’ve been so forgetful lately,” sunghoon teased gently, kissing your temple. “i think you need to slow down.”

and then there’s the unavoidable—weather.

sunghoon was the one who offered to visit your parents. “should we take a drive this weekend? mom’s probably missing you.” he said, brushing hyunwoo’s hair back. your heart would lift, light and hopeful, and you’d start to pack hyunwoo’s bags with snacks and toys.

but then saturday rolled around—and the sky darkened and heavy with clouds. a storm warning would flash across your phone screen. 

sunghoon would sigh, setting his mug down with a soft clink. “looks bad out there… dangerous to drive through the hills. let’s wait for next week, love.”

how could you argue with that?

next week never came.

——

sunghoon never really had any personal problems with your parents. 

they were fine. polite enough. a little too nosy, maybe. a little too involved. 

but fine—nonetheless. nothing too bad.

the problem was you. 

the problem was the way your face lit up whenever their names popped up on your phone. the stars and galaxies in your eyes when they called. the way your voice softened when you talked about your childhood, your home.

home. 

as if sunghoon, hyunwoo, this expensive condo, this city, wasn’t your home now.

sunghoon wouldn’t call it jealousy. he knows the relationship and love that he has with you is entirely different from what you have with your parents. something deeper. more consuming. what you have with your parents is simple. they raised you. protected you.

but with sunghoon? he chose you. and you chose him. 

that was different. that meant something greater.

and then, like clockwork, he’d check the weather days beforehand before initiating to go to your parents house because he believed that stupid forecast app more than trusting the idea of letting you out of his sight.

because as long as you stayed here, in this house, in his arms—he could breathe easy. you didn’t need anyone else. 

just him. and hyunwoo.

that’s enough.

it has to be. 

——

it had been weeks of soft excuses and cancelled plans. each time your parents called, their voices got smaller. always asking for your availability. always asking to see hyunwoo over facetime and saying how they want to pinch his chubby cheeks. always telling you to visit them—they haven’t seen their pretty little daughter’s face for so long.

they joked they might forget how you look like. 

“just for the weekend,” your mom pleaded over the phone. you could almost hear the desperation dripping like honey from her voice. “we’ll come over if you can’t make it. your dad’s fine to drive, we promise!” 

the way she said it—like she missed her daughter so much it was hurting her physically—that made something snap in your chest.

so that night, once again, when sunghoon sat beside you on the couch watching the tv, you gathered your courage.

“hoonie?” you started softly, almost a whisper.

you shifted closer, curling your legs beneath you, and rested your head against his shoulder. your fingers found his free hand resting on his lap and laced themselves between his. 

sunghoon hummed in acknowledgement and his eyes fell on you, a lazy smile tugging faintly at the corner of his lips. you gave his hand a little squeeze, tilting your face to brush your lips against his jaw. “‘m so proud of my hardworking husband,” you whispered against his skin, voice soft and warm.

his smile deepend. “yeah?” his arm slid around your waist, pulling you a little closer. “i don’t hear that enough.” 

you laughed under your breath, pressing another kiss beneath his ear. “maybe i’ll remind you a lot of that tonight,” 

sunghoon already puts hyunwoo to bed.

that got his attention. sunghoon’s grip tightened slightly in your hip, his voice dropping lower as his attention now was fully on you. “oh yeah?” he murmured, leaning closer, breath brushing against your cheek as he planted wet kisses on your skin. 

you giggled, brushing your nose against his.

and for a second, his eyes darkened, hungry—he had been working extra hard lately, climbing the hierarchy so fast—but he supposed he could work harder tonight for you. 

this was his reward. his peace. sunghoon felt himself growing hotter and harder, it’s itching him.

perfect.

but that’s when you softened your voice further, sweet and light.

“...maybe after we talk about visiting my parents this weekend?” 

it happened in an instant.

sunghoon’s body went still. tense beneath your touch, like a wire pulled tight. his jaw ticked, fingers froze at your waist, the warmth gone from his touch along with that look in his eyes—soft and needing just moments ago—flattened.

he pulled back instantly, eyebrows furrowed with that annoyed, confused crease in the middle. sunghoon shook his head, letting out a dry scoff in disbelief. “wow—you’re unbelievable,” he muttered, voice low, but the bite in it was sharp. he sat back against the ouch, creating distance, his arm slipping from your waist like the weight of you suddenly tired him out.

you blinked, confused. “hoonie—”

“so this was just—what? sweet talk to get your way?” he let out a hollow laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration, the mood completely shattered. he’s no longer feeling it tonight—the thought of your parents—fuck, it pissed him off so fucking bad. “kisses first, then the favour, then we fuck? cute, love, real fucking cute.”

your chest tightened. that wasn’t how you meant it. 

“no, no—” you shook your head, reaching for his hand again. “i wasn’t—i was just—i thought it’d be nice, for hyunwoo to see his grandparents. that’s all. i missed them. i missed home. i missed…” your voice faltered.

his jaw clenched, and for a second, his eyes softened—not with affection, but exhaustion. he didn’t answer. he didn’t pull his hand away and you rushed to fill the silence, words tumbling too fast in hopes that he could see the desperation in your eyes and pity you. 

“just for one night—or no, just visiting. i’ll drive. you can rest the whole way, i promise. i’ll pack everything, i’ll handle hyunwoo’s naps and food, you won’t have to lift a finger, babe, i promise.” 

still, he said nothing.

instead, sunghoon sighed quietly, lowering his head and rubbing his temples like the weight of the world rested there. like it’s so fucking hard for him to say—yeah, you’re right. we haven’t been to your parents—my in-laws—house for a while now… 

“you think i don’t want you to be happy,” his voice came out quiet like he’s explaining something simple to a child. to hyunwoo. “you think i don’t want hyunwoo to see his grandparents?” 

your heart dropped. no, no—this was getting far from what you were trying to say. “that’s not what i mea—”

“i work all week,” he continued softly, shaking his head. “i miss breakfast, i miss telling bedtime stories to hyunwoo, i miss you. especially you,” he emphasised, but not looking at you. wetting his lips as he threw his head back against the couch. “and the one weekend i thought i could finally rest—finally breathe, spend the night with you, spend the morning with my family—you’re planning to be somewhere else.”

your chest tightened painfully.

“that’s not fair,” you whispered, the only child brattiness behaviour in your kicking. 

but his tired smile cut through you. “life’s not fair, love. but i still do everything i can for this family so you and hyunwoo can live lavishly,” he gently untangled his hand from yours, brushing his thumb, affectionately, against the apple of your cheek before standing.

“if you want to go so badly, just go,” he said, his tone strangely calm. “take hyunwoo. leave me out of it and have a nice weekend.”

and before you could stop—argue with him—, your husband left the room, his footsteps fading down the hall, leaving you with nothing but your guilt and frustration. 

the room felt colder after he left. 

you sat there, alone, the low hum of the tv from what he last watched filling the emptiness between your thoughts. your chest tightened as the tears finally spilled over before you knew it. 

you didn’t mean to hurt him or make him feel like he wasn’t enough. you didn’t mean to initiate something—intimate—just to get your way. 

you just wanted to go home with your little family. 

but everytime you brought up your parents, it felt like you were tearing a piece of your life away from this home, from sunghoon—from everything you’d built together. 

were you selfish for wanting both?

you wiped your face, sniffing quietly.

“it’s just a visit,” you sobbed softly, using your sleeves to wipe your tears. “it’s just one weekend.” you whispered to yourself. 

but then you remembered how tired sunghoon looked. how late he went to sleep, how early he woke up—and made you and hyunwoo breakfast without you asking him to— because that’s your job. as a wife.

you thought about how much he worked, how much he cared, how much he gave up for you and hyunwoo.

did he ever ask for anything in return? no.

he only ever asked you to sit and stay at home like his pretty little wife. keep him, yourself, and hyunwoo fed, clean, and happy. greet him at the door with a smile and a kiss. make this house lovely when the world outside wore him down. warm the bed for when he needs you under him.

it wasn’t much. 

you didn’t have a job—because he asked you to not have one. sunghoon’s the husband, he’s the provider. you didn’t bring in money. he did. you didn’t pay the bills or pay the car or deal with taxes or have to think about anything at all. 

sunghoon just wanted peace and for you to stay at home.

and yet, you couldn’t give him that.

maybe it was selfish of you to still long for your old home, when this was your home now. 

you wiped your eyes with trembling fingers—let’s apologise. 

apologise and make up for what you ruined earlier—reminded him that you were his as much as he was yours. touched him the way he liked. make him feel like he’s the only man for you—the only man you’ll ever need. 

the only family member—alongside hyunwoo—who truly mattered now. 

and never mentioned your parents again.

yn: are you sleeping? yn: i can’t visit this weekend :(  yn: hyunwoo has a camp this weekend at school. yn: but whenever i can, i’ll let you know so you don’t have to remind me all the time  hehe. yn: i love you and dad always. yn: goodnight mom.

You walk into the lecture hall on your first day of the semester and choose a seat near the exit because you’re not expecting anything special from an Advanced Ethics class—until the door opens and Professor Park walks in.

He looks almost too young to be a professor, yet he carries an intriguing air of authority. The moment he begins to speak, introducing the course in a low, calm voice, you’re instantly hooked. Something deep in your stomach twists with sudden heat.

You spend the entire class staring at him, barely able to take any notes. He doesn’t smile once during the introductory lecture, and there’s something magnetic about it. He doesn’t seem to care about being liked by his students—he’s simply there, doing his job with strict discipline.

You’ve never been attracted to a professor before, but there’s something about him that captivates you instantly. Maybe it’s the way his biceps flex when he gestures while explaining something, or the fact that he seems almost too cold and professional.

By the end of the class, you feel an intense wave of jealousy over the measured praise he gave to other students. You want him to praise you. You want him to notice you. You want to be his favorite student.

Later that same day, back in your dorm, you make your first diary entry about Professor Park:

"Today I met Professor Park and my God, he’s so attractive. The way his thick eyebrows furrow when he’s explaining something… it honestly got me a little wet. I’m going to try to get his attention in the next classes."

You start sitting in the front row from that day forward, taking real notes and listening attentively to everything Professor Park says.

Throughout the week, you write more entries in your diary:

"God, the way his voice drops when he’s explaining something… I keep imagining him using that same low tone while he tells me exactly what to do on my knees. His hands look so big, with those long fingers. I wonder how they would feel gripping my hips or squeezing my thighs…"

"I want him to bend me over the desk after everyone leaves, lift my skirt, and fuck me hard. I’d stay so quiet for him… or maybe he’d fuck me even harder if I moaned his name out loud? Either way, I just want his cock to stretch me open."

By the end of the first week, he already knows your name because you answer a question correctly in class, where he simply replies with a neutral "Correct," but it’s enough to make your stomach flip.

Still, you want more. Knowing your name isn’t enough — you need all of his attention. So you decide to try something new in the second week.

────────

You wake up earlier to put extra effort into your makeup and outfit. For your first attempt, you go for something natural — soft mascara, a light blush, and a touch of lip gloss. You pair it with a blouse with a subtle neckline and a medium-length skirt that falls just at your knees.

Sitting in the front row, you raise your hand several times, making intelligent and well-thought-out comments because you actually studied for it. When you do, you receive a "Good point" from him, accompanied by a small approving smile. It’s enough to make your heart race.

In the next class, you try a bolder look — eyeliner, a proper lipstick instead of gloss, and a bit of contouring. He glances at you during the lecture, but he doesn’t compliment you. His expression remains neutral. When you make another smart comment, he simply nods. The conclusion is clear: he prefers the natural look, so that’s what you stick with.

Now it’s time to experiment with clothing. The following day, you wear a revealing outfit — a blouse cut low enough to show your collarbones and a shorter skirt that reveals your thighs. Professor Park’s eyes linger a little longer on your cleavage and bare thighs. It’s not obvious, but you notice. Cleavage and shorter skirts seem to work better, so you start leaning into that.

You keep pushing yourself — spending hours studying, pouring everything into every assignment, arriving early to class in hopes of catching a moment alone with him, craving his praise like it’s oxygen. With each passing class, your blouses get tighter and your skirts get shorter, exactly the way he seems to like.

Your efforts are paying off. His compliments come more frequently now — "Well argued" and "You captured the theme perfectly" — making you press your thighs together under the desk.

During one lecture, you participate actively, offering solid arguments and sharp answers, earning even more praise from Professor Park. When the class ends, he stops beside your seat. His gaze drops to your breasts for half a second before returning to your face.

"You’re showing great improvement," he says.

It’s enough to leave you soaked.

That night, your diary entry is filled with need:

"He looked at my tits today. He really looked. God, I want him to praise me while he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe. I’d call him Daddy so easily — actually, that’s what I’m calling him from now on. I want to be Daddy’s favorite. I’d let him fuck my ass if that’s what it takes to be his good girl."

────────

After your morning class, you’re walking down the corridor when you spot him near the faculty offices, carrying a tall stack of papers and wearing glasses. Now you have a new fantasy — getting fucked by him while he’s wearing those frames.

You quicken your pace, pretending to be focused on something on your phone, and then "accidentally" drop your notebook right in front of him. "Oh no…"

You quickly drop to your knees, letting your short skirt ride up even higher. The view you give him is perfect: you on your knees, looking up with a submissive gaze, lips slightly parted, your breasts nearly spilling out of your low-cut blouse.

His crotch is right in front of your face. The fabric of his pants stretches tightly over the heavy outline of his bulge, the thickness clearly visible. This is exactly what you would see if you were sucking his cock. The fantasy of pulling that thick cock out and taking him down your throat while looking up at him with innocent eyes makes you shiver.

Professor Park makes no effort to help you up. He towers over you, his thick eyebrows furrowed in a rare expression of surprise on his usually neutral face. "Are you alright?" he asks.

Your eyes travel from the bulge right in front of you up to his face. You pick up the notebook and look up again from that perfect blowjob angle, whispering softly, "Yes, Professor. I’m just so clumsy sometimes."

For half a second, his gaze drops — taking in your glossy lips so close to his groin, the way your skirt has ridden up, and how your breasts look even more prominent from this angle. He clears his throat and forces his attention back to your face. "Be more careful next time."

You smile sweetly and finally stand up, tugging your skirt down even though it barely covers anything. "Thank you, Professor Park."

Your panties are soaked and your mouth is watering, the image of his bulge so close to your lips still burned into your mind.

He gives you one last lingering look before walking past you. If he had stayed even a second longer, you might have noticed the growing, hardening bulge in his pants.

That afternoon, you write in your diary:

"Holy fuck, I was literally on my knees right in front of him, exactly like I would be if I were sucking his cock. I wanted him to pull it out, grab my hair, and make me take every inch of that heavy length down my throat. I’m so wet just remembering how tall he looked standing over me. Please, Daddy… notice how desperate your good girl is."

────────

As the students begin to leave when the class ends, you deliberately take your time packing your things, hoping for another interaction with Professor Park. It works. He starts walking toward your seat and stops beside it.

"Miss, stay after for a moment," he says.

"Yes, sir," you reply. Your mind immediately wanders — imagining him locking the door, bending you over the desk, his strong arms pinning you down while his cock finally stretches you open as he calls you his "good girl."

Once the last students are gone, you walk up to him on shaky legs, your panties soaked and your nipples hard, clearly visible through the thin fabric of your tank top.

"Yes, Professor?" Your voice is soft and innocent, but your heart is pounding as hard as your clit. Please, touch me. Fuck me right here. I’ve been such a good girl for you, Daddy. The words echo loudly in your head.

His eyes meet yours before slowly drifting down, scanning you from head to toe. "I’ve noticed how much you’ve improved this semester, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to help one of the students who’s struggling. Sharing notes or a few short tutoring sessions would help a lot."

The disappointment hits you like a punch. You’re standing here dressed for him, dripping wet and trembling with need, and he’s asking you for academic favors. No locked door. No biceps wrapped around your throat while he fucks you hard. Just tutoring another student. "Of course, Professor Park. I’d be happy to help."

He gives a small nod. "Thank you. I’ll email you the details. Keep up the excellent work."

You linger for a few more seconds, hoping he’ll say something else, but he simply turns his attention back to the papers on his desk — clearly dismissing you.

While waiting for the email he mentioned, you write in your diary:

"He asked me to stay after class and I swore this was finally going to happen — that he was going to fuck me mercilessly on his desk, choking me between his biceps and calling me his good little girl, his desperate pet. But nothing happened and fuck, it’s driving me insane. I’m dressing like a slut for him and he still stays so cold and professional. Luckily, I don’t give up easily."

────────

You arrive early and take your usual seat in the front row. As soon as the lecture begins, you pull a cherry lollipop from your bag, unwrap it slowly, and bring it to your mouth. At first it looks innocent — but you make sure it’s anything but.

You suck on it gently at first, your tongue swirling around the shiny red head, then take it deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your eyes stay locked on him the entire time — watching the way his muscular arms move as he explains the material, the serious tone of his voice, and the way his thick eyebrows furrow in concentration.

Every time he turns toward your direction, you push the lollipop in and out between your lips in slow, suggestive movements, imagining it’s his cock instead. He pauses mid-sentence for half a second as his gaze fixes on your mouth, then smiles — flashing those sharp canines. Holy fuck. Your pussy throbs at the sight.

Feeling bold, you don’t stop. You lick the lollipop from base to tip with long, wet strokes of your tongue. Every time his eyes meet yours, you suck it deep while keeping eye contact.

When the lecture ends and most students leave, he looks straight at you while you’re still sucking on the lollipop and packing your things. "Miss, a word, please."

You stand up quickly and walk over to him, pulling the lollipop out slowly with a wet pop as you reach his desk. Your lips are glossy and shiny as you smile sweetly. "Yes, Professor?" You slip the lollipop back into your mouth while you wait for him to speak.

This time he doesn’t even try to hide it. His gaze drops to your glistening lips, then to your breasts — your hard nipples clearly visible through the thin tank top, no bra as usual. "Your latest essay was…" His eyes finally return to yours, a small mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Incredible."

"Thank you, Professor," you reply softly, matching his mischievous smile. "I’ve been working really hard to be your best student."

He nods. "Good. Keep it up and you’ll certainly become my favorite."

You give the lollipop one final slow lick while looking him straight in the eyes, then turn to leave, swaying your hips in those tiny shorts. You can feel his gaze burning into you the entire way out.

That night, you write in your diary:

"Fuck, the way he stared at my mouth while I was sucking that lollipop… I bet he was imagining how my lips would look wrapped around his cock. I wanted him to grab my hair and shove himself down my throat right there in front of everyone. Daddy looked so tense today, but he still praised my academic effort again. I feel like I’m getting so close to finally making him snap."

────────

The class starts as usual, with you sitting in the front row, paying close attention to Professor Park’s lecture as he discusses the topics in that controlled, precise tone.

In the middle of the lecture, Ni-ki — the guy you’ve been tutoring — leans over from the seat next to you and whispers in your ear, "Hey, are we meeting again today?"

You smile at him and nod, leaning in closer on purpose because you know Professor Park is watching. "Yeah, already missing me, Nishimura?"

Ni-ki stays close, chatting quietly with you while the class continues. You smile widely and laugh at everything he says — he’s so funny and goofy. "We can review that part after class if you want," you say sweetly, loud enough for Professor Park to hear.

Sunghoon’s reaction is subtle but noticeable. His jaw clenches, one thick eyebrow lifting for half a second as he watches the two of you. He pauses mid-sentence when he catches Ni-ki staring at your breasts, then continues with a noticeably deeper, colder voice. When his eyes meet yours again, there’s something different in them. Jealousy.

"Concentrate, please," he says to the entire class, but his gaze is locked directly on you.

After class, when most students have left, you stay behind, pretending to organize your notes. Professor Park walks over to your seat and stops right beside you, towering over you with his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps strain against the sleeves of his shirt.

"Miss… I appreciate you helping Ni-ki, but I’d prefer if tutoring sessions stayed professional and outside of my lecture time."

You look up at him with feigned innocence, biting your lower lip. "I’m sorry, Professor. I was just trying to help like you asked… I really want to be useful to you."

Those words make his cock twitch inside his pants.

"That’s fine, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your performance," he replies. "You’re one of my best students. I’d hate to see that change." He lingers for a second longer, staring at you, before stepping back.

"One of." That’s not enough. You want to be his favorite. The only one.

That day, you write:

"He was jealous today, it was so obvious. Daddy didn’t like me giving attention to another guy and fuck, that’s so hot — it left me soaked. I wanted him to snap right there, drag me to his office, put me on all fours and fuck me stupid. I need him to claim me, ruin me, remind me who I belong to. Please, Professor Park."

────────

Another class ends. This time, you don’t wait for everyone to leave so you can have a brief moment alone with Professor Park. In a rush to meet your friends at a nearby café, you end up forgetting your notebook on the desk — the one filled with all your filthy thoughts about him.

Professor Park is packing up his things when he notices the forgotten notebook on the seat where you sat during class. He picks it up, planning to return it to you next lecture, but decides to open it first to check for a name — just to make sure it’s yours. His eyes scan the first page, then the next, and the next.

"Today I met Professor Park and my God, he’s so attractive…"

"I want him to bend me over the desk after everyone leaves, lift my skirt, and fuck me hard."

"I want to be Daddy’s favorite. I’d let him fuck my ass if that’s what it takes to be his good girl."

"I wanted him to grab my hair and shove himself down my throat right there in front of everyone."

He freezes, jaw clenched tight, every muscle in his body tense as he keeps reading. Page after page of your explicit fantasies — the way you teased him with the lollipop, dropped to your knees in front of him, wore shorter and shorter skirts with tighter blouses, all of it deliberately done to provoke him.

With every new entry, his cock grows harder, throbbing painfully against the confines of his pants.

You only realize you forgot the notebook when you’re already halfway across campus. Panic floods through you instantly — every filthy thought, every "Daddy," every explicit fantasy is written in there. Your stomach twists at the thought of someone finding it and reading everything. You run back to the lecture hall as fast as you can.

When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar. Peeking inside, you see that Professor Park is still there.

Breathless, you push the door open. His eyes lock onto yours the second you step inside. The air feels thick, heavier than ever. His gaze is different now — darker, more intense, hungry. In that same instant, you know you’re fucked.

"You forgot this," he says in a low, serious voice. A cruel smile plays on his lips as he holds the notebook out toward you, but he doesn’t let go when you try to take it.

"Interesting reading…" He flips through the pages again and reads one of the entries out loud. "Please, Daddy… notice how desperate your good girl is." Then he lets out a low, mocking laugh — clearly amused by how desperate you sounded in those notes.

Your face burns with shame. The words get stuck in your throat. What excuse could you possibly give when everything is written so explicitly? "Professor… I—"

He closes the notebook with a sharp snap and pins you with a piercing stare that makes your entire body shiver. "We’ll discuss this later. In private."

He finally releases the notebook. The moment it’s in your hands, you turn and flee as fast as your trembling legs can carry you.

The rest of the day is pure torture. You can barely sleep that night, your mind racing with every possible consequence — and every possible thing he might do to you.

Later that evening, your phone vibrates with an email from him.

My office. Thursday, 4:30 PM. We need to discuss the contents of your notebook.

— Sunghoon Park.

On Thursday, you spend the entire day getting ready. You wear the tightest tank top you own — thin enough that your hard, needy nipples are clearly visible — paired with the shortest skirt you’ve ever worn, one that barely covers the curve of your ass.

At exactly 4:30 PM, you knock on his office door, your heart pounding so hard you feel dizzy.

"Come in," he says from inside.

You open the door slowly. There he is, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest, jaw clenched, a malicious smile on his lips and a hungry look in his eyes as they rake over your body from head to toe. The cold, professional mask he always wore in class is gone, replaced by something much darker.

"Lock the door and sit down," he orders, leaving no room for argument.

You obey with trembling hands, locking the door before sitting down, pressing your thighs together. You can already feel your panties getting wet. For a few long seconds, he just stares at you, his gaze lingering on your hard nipples straining against the thin fabric.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he speaks. "You wrote about wanting me to bend you over this desk. About my arms suffocating you. About calling me Daddy. About dressing like a desperate little slut just to get my attention."

You feel exposed, vulnerable, and shamefully aroused, your pussy throbbing.

"I didn’t… I mean, I—" The words die in your throat as he steps closer, towering over you.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to stay professional?" he growls. "Watching you in class every day in those tiny skirts and tight tops. Reading how badly you want me to claim you."

Before you can respond, he grabs your waist and lifts you effortlessly onto his desk. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them so he can step between them.

"Professor Park…" you whimper, your voice trembling with need and nervousness.

He kneels in front of you, eyes locked on yours as he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties to the side, exposing your needy, dripping wet pussy. The first touch of his hot tongue against your folds makes you gasp sharply.

"Oh God—" you moan, gripping the edge of the desk.

Sunghoon eats you out like a starving man — with long, slow licks from your entrance to your clit, then sucking hard on the swollen bundle of nerves. Two long fingers slide deep inside you, curling perfectly to stroke that sensitive spot while his tongue works relentlessly.

"Sunghoon, fuck— that feels so good," you whimper, tangling your fingers in his hair. "I’ve waited so long for this…"

He growls against your pussy when he hears you moan his name so casually. The vibration sends shivers through your entire body. His fingers pump faster and deeper as he sucks your clit into his mouth. The pressure builds quickly until you cum hard, thighs trembling around his head, loud moans ripping from your throat as you soak his chin and the desk beneath you.

When he finally stands up, his lips are glistening with your juices. He’s breathing heavily, the massive bulge in his pants straining painfully against the fabric.

"Please, Daddy…" You spread your legs even wider, eyes glassy with tears of frustration and pleasure. "I need your cock. Please, fuck me."

Sunghoon steps forward, pressing his clothed erection firmly against your soaked entrance and rubbing slowly. You moan softly, rolling your hips against him desperately, chasing more friction, but he pulls away again.

"I’m not reckless enough to fuck you in my office," he groans, clearly fighting for control. "No matter how badly I want to bury myself inside this needy little pussy."

You let out a pathetic whine, eyes pleading. He leans in close, gripping your jaw firmly with one hand.

"Tonight. My apartment. 8 PM. If you want me to fuck you properly." He pauses, his voice low and dark. "I’ll send you an email with the address."

────────

You arrive at his building exactly at 8 PM, wearing the sluttiest outfit you own. Your pussy is already dripping down your thighs by the time you knock on the door.

Sunghoon opens the door dressed differently from usual — a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of his hard cock.

"Come in," He orders and you obey, the door closing behind you with a heavy click.

The second you step inside, his reserved professor mask finally shatters and he snaps.

He grabs you by the waist and slams you against the wall, his grip so strong it will definitely leave bruises. "You have no fucking idea what you’ve done to me," he growls, pressing his erection hard against your stomach. "Reading page after page of you begging to be my little whore. Calling me Daddy while thinking about my cock."

You moan, arching into him desperately. "Please… I need it. I’ve needed your cock for so long."

He spins you around and bends you roughly over the back of the couch. Your tiny skirt rides up, exposing your bare, dripping pussy — you didn’t even bother wearing panties. His large hand comes down hard on your ass, making you cry out.

"Look at this desperate little cunt," he says, stroking the spot he just spanked. "Dripping all over my floor." Two thick fingers slide through your folds and push deep inside you without warning. You scream, pushing back against his hand as he fingers you hard, curling his fingers against that sweet spot while his thumb circles your swollen clit.

"You’re tighter than I imagined," he groans, pumping faster. "All those weeks teasing me in those tiny skirts and tight tops… you’re going to take every inch of Daddy’s cock tonight."

You’re already a sobbing, dripping mess. "Yes, Daddy, please fuck me."

He pulls his fingers out, yanks your top up to free your breasts, and spins you around to face him. Before you can say anything, his mouth crashes against yours in a hungry, demanding, almost desperate kiss — his tongue pushing past your lips to claim you completely.

You melt into him, moaning into his mouth while grinding against his hard cock. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen and you’re panting.

He walks you backward toward the bedroom, still kissing you between steps, until the back of your knees hit the bed. Sunghoon throws you onto your back, pulls off his shirt, and shoves down his sweatpants — finally freeing his cock that springs out, thick and rock hard with pulsing veins along the shaft. Your mouth waters at the sight.

He climbs on top of you, grabs your thighs and spreads them wide. Without any ceremony, he lines up and thrusts deep inside you in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt in your soaked pussy. "Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight."

Then he starts fucking you hard — deep, merciless thrusts that make the bed creak and his heavy balls slap against your ass with every stroke.

You’re completely lost in it, moaning like a whore because he’s so big and the stretch is overwhelming. "Your cock is so big… you’re stretching me so good."

He leans down and kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you. His muscular body pins you to the mattress, his heat and weight dominating you the best way possible.

"You’re mine now," he growls against your lips. "My perfect little pet. This pussy belongs to me now."

Sunghoon presses one hand firmly on your lower belly and starts fucking you with slow but incredibly deep strokes. His cock is so long and buried so deep that you can clearly see the bulge moving under your skin with every thrust.

"I can literally see my cock bulging your tiny stomach. Feel that?" He thrusts harder, pressing down so you can feel the head of his cock pushing against his hand through your body.

You nod, sobbing with pleasure, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, I feel it. You’re ruining my pussy, Daddy. I’m so full."

"My cock is bigger than your little womb can handle… but you’re still taking every inch like a good girl," he groans, almost hypnotized.

"Please, don’t stop," you beg desperately, voice breaking. He fucks you even deeper, one hand still pressing on the bulge in your stomach while the other pins your wrists above your head.

The pressure becomes unbearable until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, screaming as your pussy clenches violently around his cock, squirting while he keeps fucking you through it. The sight and feeling push him over the edge too. He buries himself as deep as your body allows and fills you with thick, hot ropes of cum, groaning loudly as he empties himself inside you.

He slowly pulls out of you, his cock glistening with the mixture of both your cum. You’re panting, legs still trembling from the intense orgasm, when suddenly he flips you onto your stomach without warning. He grabs your hips and pulls your ass up, putting you on all fours.

"Arch your back," he orders. "I want to fuck you like the desperate little pet you are."

You obey immediately, arching your back deeply and presenting your wet, swollen pussy to him. This position leaves you completely at his mercy as his tall, muscular frame towers behind you.

He leans over you, one hand sliding down your spine until he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. With the other hand, he turns your head to the side and kisses you deeply. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch while his thick cock teases between your ass cheeks.

You moan into the kiss, melting under him. "Daddy… fuck me harder," you beg breathlessly against his lips.

He kisses you even more aggressively, biting your lower lip before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "Open your mouth."

You obey without hesitation, sliding your tongue out slightly. Sunghoon leans over you and spits directly into your open mouth — a thick string of saliva landing on your tongue.

You moan pathetically and swallow it all. "Thank you, Daddy…"

"Good girl," he praises with a wide smile, then spits into your mouth again. "Now take my cock."

He pushes you back down onto the mattress, grips your hips with both large hands, and thrusts into you with one brutal stroke. The new angle lets him bury every thick inch even deeper, stretching your tight pussy to its limit.

"Fuck!" you cry out, fingers gripping the sheets. "You’re so deep like this… Oh my God."

Sunghoon starts fucking you hard, his hips slamming against your ass with loud, wet slaps that push your body forward with every thrust. His thick cock rubs against your cervix and every sensitive spot inside you — the obscene sound of your soaked pussy getting fucked filling the room.

He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the mattress while the other spanks your ass hard in time with his thrusts, leaving red marks on your skin. "Take it," he groans. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked like a bitch in heat by your professor."

"Yes, yes, Daddy." you moan loudly, pushing your hips back desperately to meet his rhythm. "Fuck me harder… I love being your little slut."

He leans over you again, chest pressed against your back, and continues pounding into you mercilessly. Every thrust makes your ass ripple and your tits bounce beneath you.

Sunghoon reaches around and grabs one of your breasts roughly, pinching your nipple without slowing his punishing pace — his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every stroke.

"You’re so fucking tight like this," he growls against your ear, biting your shoulder. "This tiny pussy was made for my cock."

You’re sobbing with pleasure, completely lost in how deep and hard his huge cock is fucking you. "I’m gonna cum. Sunghoon, please... can I cum?" you beg, voice breaking.

He slaps your ass hard again, making you squirm under him. "Cum on my cock like a good girl."

You scream into the mattress as your inner walls clench violently around him, the orgasm hitting you violently. He doesn’t slow down — he fucks you straight through it, chasing his own release.

Until he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with another huge load, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum deep inside your pussy in heavy spasms.

You’re still trembling and leaking his cum when he pulls out and suddenly flips you onto your back so he can look at your ruined body and flushed, wrecked expression. "On your knees," he commands, his voice low and rough.

You obey instantly, like you always do. Sunghoon reaches over to the nightstand where he keeps his satin ties and grabs a couple. "Hands behind your back, pet." He ties your wrists securely behind you and then binds your ankles, leaving you completely helpless on the bed.

The silk bites into your skin just tight enough to make you fully at his mercy. When you test the restraints and realize you can’t escape, a needy moan escapes you.

"Look at you…" he says, slowly stroking his cock, which is already rock hard again. "All tied up and dripping for me. Exactly how a desperate little slut should be.:

You whimper, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Daddy, please..."

He lets out a cruel laugh, then grabs you by the hair and drags you off the bed to the large full-length mirror on the bedroom wall. He positions you on your knees right in front of it, facing your own reflection. "Eyes open," he whispers into your ear. "Watch what I do to you."

You stare at the obscene image in the mirror: your wrists and ankles bound, your skirt bunched uselessly around your waist, tits exposed, and your face flushed with lust.

Sunghoon kneels behind you, his muscular body making yours look tiny. He yanks your head back by the hair and thrusts into you with one brutal stroke, burying his cock to the hilt.

He starts fucking you hard, deep and punishing thrusts that jolt your bound body forward. His biceps flex as he grips your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with every stroke. The mirror shows everything — your tits bouncing, your face twisted in pleasure, and his body dominating you from behind.

"Fuck, look how well your tight little pussy takes me," he groans. One hand wraps around your throat while the other arm snakes around your upper body. He pulls you back against his chest, smothering you between those massive biceps while he keeps thrusting. Your vision starts to blur from the overwhelming pleasure as you gasp for air, forced to watch yourself being destroyed in the mirror.

Sunghoon unties your ankles and in one smooth motion stands up, lifting your body like you weigh nothing. He presses you against the mirror, your tits and cheek smashing against the cold glass as he enters you from behind again.

The mirror fogs up with your hot breath while he fucks you relentlessly. "You teased me for weeks," he growls in your ear, one hand still gripping your throat. "Now you get to watch yourself get fucked like the whore you are." His hips slam against your ass with loud, wet smacks, his cock driving incredibly deep in this standing position.

You cum hard, screaming as your pussy squirts around his cock and your legs shake violently, but he doesn’t stop. He pulls out, spins you around, and lifts you onto his cock, impaling you completely again. His strong arms do all the work, bouncing your bound body up and down on his thick shaft.

"Beg for it," he demands.

"Please, Daddy, cum inside me again," you sob desperately. "Fill your good girl up… I need it so bad."

He buries himself to the hilt one final time and floods your pussy with another massive load, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum until it overflows around his cock and drips down your ass.

Still buried deep inside you, he carries you back to the bed and sits you up on the edge of it, standing in front of you. "Open that pretty mouth. Time to clean Daddy’s cock and get your throat fucked."

He doesn’t wait for you to do it. He simply grabs your hair and slaps his cum-covered cock against your tongue a few times before shoving it straight down your throat. You gag hard, your eyes watering instantly as he forces his thick length past your gag reflex.

"That’s it, swallow it all, you filthy little cocksucker," he groans, starting to thrust deep and steady.

You gag and drool uncontrollably, thick strings of saliva running down your chin and dripping onto your tits and thighs. Glk- glk- glk. The obscene sounds fill the room as he fucks your face mercilessly.

You pull against the restraints around your wrists, trying to escape while moaning around his cock. When he pulls out briefly to let you breathe, you gasp desperately. "I’m your dirty little whore, Daddy."

He groans and thrusts back in, fucking your throat harder and faster while holding you in place. Tears stream down your face, but you keep looking up at him submissively. Finally, with a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt and cums straight down your throat. You swallow every drop like the good girl you are, coughing and gasping for air when he finally pulls out.

Sunghoon releases the restraints from your wrists and sits on the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and glistening, slapping against his stomach. He pulls you onto his lap, gripping your hips possessively. "Get on top, baby," he says, his voice low and rough. "I want to watch you ride Daddy’s cock."

Even though you’re trembling and completely wrecked, you obey. You straddle him, align his cock with your soaked entrance, and sink down slowly, moaning loudly as he stretches you open again. "Fuck… Daddy, you’re so deep like this," you moan, bottoming out with a shaky breath.

Sunghoon leans back slightly, supporting himself on his hands, his thick dark eyebrows furrowed as he watches you. One large hand immediately slides up to your breast, squeezing it hard while his thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple. "Ride me. Show me how badly you wanted this."

You start moving, rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock. He slaps your ass hard. SMACK. the sharp sound echoing as your flesh jiggles. "Faster," he demands, slapping the other cheek even harder. "Don’t be shy. Fuck yourself on me like you wrote in that dirty little notebook."

You ride him harder, your tits bouncing wildly in front of his face. He leans forward and catches one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his other hand keeps spanking and groping your ass, occasionally spreading your cheeks so he can feel how tightly you’re stretched around him.

"Oh my God, Sunghoon!" you moan loudly, head falling back. "Your cock feels so good… I love your cock. Please, spank my ass harder!"

His big hand comes down again and again, turning your ass red while his other hand kneads and pinches your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The mix of pain and pleasure makes your pussy clench around him.

"Look at you… bouncing on your professor’s cock like a whore. These pretty tits are mine." He squeezes them together, burying his face between them, biting and sucking marks into your soft skin.

You’re losing control, riding him relentlessly while grinding your clit against his pelvis with every bounce. "I’m gonna cum, please. Can I cum?" you beg.

He slaps your ass one more time, hard enough to make you scream, then grips your hips tightly and starts thrusting up to meet you. "Cum," he growls against your chest. "Cream all over Daddy’s cock."

You scream loudly, your body shaking violently as your pussy clenches and squirts around his thick shaft. Sunghoon doesn’t stop — he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, spanking your ass and playing with your bouncing tits until he groans deeply and buries himself inside you, pumping another thick load into your already overflowing pussy.

Sunghoon gently rubs your wrists and ankles before lifting your trembling body along with his and carrying you in his arms to the bathroom.

Under the hot streams of water, he presses your body against the tiles, pinning you there. "Can you take one more? Just one more for me, hm? I know you can, baby…"

You nod quickly. "I can."

He lifts one of your legs, lines himself up, and slides back into your sore, dripping pussy. The water cascades over both of you as he fucks you deep and steady, one thick arm wrapped loosely around your throat from behind while his other hand gropes your breasts and rubs your clit.

"You’re such a messy little whore, but so good for me," he whispers in your ear, thrusting harder. "Still leaking my cum down your thighs."

"Yes, I’m yours," you whimper, pushing back against him. "Fill me again, please. Breed me. I want to be yours forever, Daddy."

He pins you harder against the wall until you cum again, moaning his name. With one final deep thrust, he groans and releases inside you once more, making the mixture of cum and water run down your legs.

Sunghoon turns off the water, dries you carefully, and kisses every mark he left on your body. He carries you back to the bed and pulls you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest.

"You were incredible tonight," he murmurs softly, stroking your hair. "Such a good girl for Daddy. You took everything so well."

You nuzzle into him, your voice low and exhausted. "Thank you, Daddy… I loved every second. I’m yours now."

He massages your sore wrists, thighs, and neck with gentle, careful hands, then brings you water and holds the glass while you drink. He cleans between your legs again with a warm cloth, kissing your forehead the whole time.

"Stay here with me," he whispers, wrapping you in those strong arms. "Rest, baby."

You fall asleep feeling safe and warm in his arms, completely owned, satisfied, and already dreaming about the next time.

────────

You wake up slowly, your body sore and marked — your thighs sticky with dried cum, your throat still a little raw. You smile to yourself like a lovestruck idiot, then slip out of bed wearing one of his dress shirts that you stole from the chair in the room.

You walk toward the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee. He’s standing at the counter, so you quietly approach from behind and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Good morning…" you murmur, kissing his back softly. "Thank you for last night. I can still feel you everywhere."

Sunghoon doesn’t turn around immediately. He stays still for a moment, then lets out a low, cold laugh that makes your stomach twist.

He finally turns, wearing that same reserved, stern expression he used during lectures as he looks at you like you’re something both pathetic and mildly amusing.

"You’re already acting clingy?" he says, his voice low and cruel. "One night of getting your holes ruined and you think you can play housewife?"

Your cheeks burn, but you still try to be sweet, pressing your body against his and rubbing your hard nipples against his chest.

"Sorry… I just feel so close to you right now," you whisper softly, looking up at him with big, adoring eyes. "I love being your good girl."

He reaches out and grabs your chin roughly, forcing your head back with a firm, almost painful grip. "Look at you," he says mockingly. "So desperate and sweet in the morning. You were screaming like a whore last night, begging Daddy to fill your insides with cum… and now you’re cuddling up to me like a lost puppy?"

Before you can respond, he releases your chin and turns back to the counter as if you don’t even deserve his attention. But you keep trying, stepping forward again and wrapping your arms around him from behind. "Please, Sunghoon… I really like you. It’s not just the sex—"

"Enough," he interrupts sharply. He turns again, grabs you by the waist, and easily lifts you onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs. The shirt rides up, exposing your bare, still-swollen pussy. "You’re not going to play sweet and domestic after writing page after page about wanting to be my personal cum dump."

"But… I want to make you happy," you say softly, your voice trembling.

He leans in close, trapping you on the counter. "Then stay quiet and keep that little cunt ready for whenever I want it," he says coldly. "Sweetness doesn’t suit a desperate teacher’s pet like you. Now spread your legs wider and stop pretending you’re anything more than my dirty little secret."

He delivers a hard, cruel slap directly to your clit, making you gasp. Then he steps back, leaving you sitting there exposed, dripping, and aching on the counter while he casually drinks his coffee.

You walk into the lecture hall on your first day of the semester and choose a seat near the exit because you’re not expecting anything special from an Advanced Ethics class—until the door opens and Professor Park walks in.

He looks almost too young to be a professor, yet he carries an intriguing air of authority. The moment he begins to speak, introducing the course in a low, calm voice, you’re instantly hooked. Something deep in your stomach twists with sudden heat.

You spend the entire class staring at him, barely able to take any notes. He doesn’t smile once during the introductory lecture, and there’s something magnetic about it. He doesn’t seem to care about being liked by his students—he’s simply there, doing his job with strict discipline.

You’ve never been attracted to a professor before, but there’s something about him that captivates you instantly. Maybe it’s the way his biceps flex when he gestures while explaining something, or the fact that he seems almost too cold and professional.

By the end of the class, you feel an intense wave of jealousy over the measured praise he gave to other students. You want him to praise you. You want him to notice you. You want to be his favorite student.

Later that same day, back in your dorm, you make your first diary entry about Professor Park:

"Today I met Professor Park and my God, he’s so attractive. The way his thick eyebrows furrow when he’s explaining something… it honestly got me a little wet. I’m going to try to get his attention in the next classes."

You start sitting in the front row from that day forward, taking real notes and listening attentively to everything Professor Park says.

Throughout the week, you write more entries in your diary:

"God, the way his voice drops when he’s explaining something… I keep imagining him using that same low tone while he tells me exactly what to do on my knees. His hands look so big, with those long fingers. I wonder how they would feel gripping my hips or squeezing my thighs…"

"I want him to bend me over the desk after everyone leaves, lift my skirt, and fuck me hard. I’d stay so quiet for him… or maybe he’d fuck me even harder if I moaned his name out loud? Either way, I just want his cock to stretch me open."

By the end of the first week, he already knows your name because you answer a question correctly in class, where he simply replies with a neutral "Correct," but it’s enough to make your stomach flip.

Still, you want more. Knowing your name isn’t enough — you need all of his attention. So you decide to try something new in the second week.

────────

You wake up earlier to put extra effort into your makeup and outfit. For your first attempt, you go for something natural — soft mascara, a light blush, and a touch of lip gloss. You pair it with a blouse with a subtle neckline and a medium-length skirt that falls just at your knees.

Sitting in the front row, you raise your hand several times, making intelligent and well-thought-out comments because you actually studied for it. When you do, you receive a "Good point" from him, accompanied by a small approving smile. It’s enough to make your heart race.

In the next class, you try a bolder look — eyeliner, a proper lipstick instead of gloss, and a bit of contouring. He glances at you during the lecture, but he doesn’t compliment you. His expression remains neutral. When you make another smart comment, he simply nods. The conclusion is clear: he prefers the natural look, so that’s what you stick with.

Now it’s time to experiment with clothing. The following day, you wear a revealing outfit — a blouse cut low enough to show your collarbones and a shorter skirt that reveals your thighs. Professor Park’s eyes linger a little longer on your cleavage and bare thighs. It’s not obvious, but you notice. Cleavage and shorter skirts seem to work better, so you start leaning into that.

You keep pushing yourself — spending hours studying, pouring everything into every assignment, arriving early to class in hopes of catching a moment alone with him, craving his praise like it’s oxygen. With each passing class, your blouses get tighter and your skirts get shorter, exactly the way he seems to like.

Your efforts are paying off. His compliments come more frequently now — "Well argued" and "You captured the theme perfectly" — making you press your thighs together under the desk.

During one lecture, you participate actively, offering solid arguments and sharp answers, earning even more praise from Professor Park. When the class ends, he stops beside your seat. His gaze drops to your breasts for half a second before returning to your face.

"You’re showing great improvement," he says.

It’s enough to leave you soaked.

That night, your diary entry is filled with need:

"He looked at my tits today. He really looked. God, I want him to praise me while he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me so tight I can barely breathe. I’d call him Daddy so easily — actually, that’s what I’m calling him from now on. I want to be Daddy’s favorite. I’d let him fuck my ass if that’s what it takes to be his good girl."

────────

After your morning class, you’re walking down the corridor when you spot him near the faculty offices, carrying a tall stack of papers and wearing glasses. Now you have a new fantasy — getting fucked by him while he’s wearing those frames.

You quicken your pace, pretending to be focused on something on your phone, and then "accidentally" drop your notebook right in front of him. "Oh no…"

You quickly drop to your knees, letting your short skirt ride up even higher. The view you give him is perfect: you on your knees, looking up with a submissive gaze, lips slightly parted, your breasts nearly spilling out of your low-cut blouse.

His crotch is right in front of your face. The fabric of his pants stretches tightly over the heavy outline of his bulge, the thickness clearly visible. This is exactly what you would see if you were sucking his cock. The fantasy of pulling that thick cock out and taking him down your throat while looking up at him with innocent eyes makes you shiver.

Professor Park makes no effort to help you up. He towers over you, his thick eyebrows furrowed in a rare expression of surprise on his usually neutral face. "Are you alright?" he asks.

Your eyes travel from the bulge right in front of you up to his face. You pick up the notebook and look up again from that perfect blowjob angle, whispering softly, "Yes, Professor. I’m just so clumsy sometimes."

For half a second, his gaze drops — taking in your glossy lips so close to his groin, the way your skirt has ridden up, and how your breasts look even more prominent from this angle. He clears his throat and forces his attention back to your face. "Be more careful next time."

You smile sweetly and finally stand up, tugging your skirt down even though it barely covers anything. "Thank you, Professor Park."

Your panties are soaked and your mouth is watering, the image of his bulge so close to your lips still burned into your mind.

He gives you one last lingering look before walking past you. If he had stayed even a second longer, you might have noticed the growing, hardening bulge in his pants.

That afternoon, you write in your diary:

"Holy fuck, I was literally on my knees right in front of him, exactly like I would be if I were sucking his cock. I wanted him to pull it out, grab my hair, and make me take every inch of that heavy length down my throat. I’m so wet just remembering how tall he looked standing over me. Please, Daddy… notice how desperate your good girl is."

────────

As the students begin to leave when the class ends, you deliberately take your time packing your things, hoping for another interaction with Professor Park. It works. He starts walking toward your seat and stops beside it.

"Miss, stay after for a moment," he says.

"Yes, sir," you reply. Your mind immediately wanders — imagining him locking the door, bending you over the desk, his strong arms pinning you down while his cock finally stretches you open as he calls you his "good girl."

Once the last students are gone, you walk up to him on shaky legs, your panties soaked and your nipples hard, clearly visible through the thin fabric of your tank top.

"Yes, Professor?" Your voice is soft and innocent, but your heart is pounding as hard as your clit. Please, touch me. Fuck me right here. I’ve been such a good girl for you, Daddy. The words echo loudly in your head.

His eyes meet yours before slowly drifting down, scanning you from head to toe. "I’ve noticed how much you’ve improved this semester, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to help one of the students who’s struggling. Sharing notes or a few short tutoring sessions would help a lot."

The disappointment hits you like a punch. You’re standing here dressed for him, dripping wet and trembling with need, and he’s asking you for academic favors. No locked door. No biceps wrapped around your throat while he fucks you hard. Just tutoring another student. "Of course, Professor Park. I’d be happy to help."

He gives a small nod. "Thank you. I’ll email you the details. Keep up the excellent work."

You linger for a few more seconds, hoping he’ll say something else, but he simply turns his attention back to the papers on his desk — clearly dismissing you.

While waiting for the email he mentioned, you write in your diary:

"He asked me to stay after class and I swore this was finally going to happen — that he was going to fuck me mercilessly on his desk, choking me between his biceps and calling me his good little girl, his desperate pet. But nothing happened and fuck, it’s driving me insane. I’m dressing like a slut for him and he still stays so cold and professional. Luckily, I don’t give up easily."

────────

You arrive early and take your usual seat in the front row. As soon as the lecture begins, you pull a cherry lollipop from your bag, unwrap it slowly, and bring it to your mouth. At first it looks innocent — but you make sure it’s anything but.

You suck on it gently at first, your tongue swirling around the shiny red head, then take it deeper, hollowing your cheeks slightly. Your eyes stay locked on him the entire time — watching the way his muscular arms move as he explains the material, the serious tone of his voice, and the way his thick eyebrows furrow in concentration.

Every time he turns toward your direction, you push the lollipop in and out between your lips in slow, suggestive movements, imagining it’s his cock instead. He pauses mid-sentence for half a second as his gaze fixes on your mouth, then smiles — flashing those sharp canines. Holy fuck. Your pussy throbs at the sight.

Feeling bold, you don’t stop. You lick the lollipop from base to tip with long, wet strokes of your tongue. Every time his eyes meet yours, you suck it deep while keeping eye contact.

When the lecture ends and most students leave, he looks straight at you while you’re still sucking on the lollipop and packing your things. "Miss, a word, please."

You stand up quickly and walk over to him, pulling the lollipop out slowly with a wet pop as you reach his desk. Your lips are glossy and shiny as you smile sweetly. "Yes, Professor?" You slip the lollipop back into your mouth while you wait for him to speak.

This time he doesn’t even try to hide it. His gaze drops to your glistening lips, then to your breasts — your hard nipples clearly visible through the thin tank top, no bra as usual. "Your latest essay was…" His eyes finally return to yours, a small mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Incredible."

"Thank you, Professor," you reply softly, matching his mischievous smile. "I’ve been working really hard to be your best student."

He nods. "Good. Keep it up and you’ll certainly become my favorite."

You give the lollipop one final slow lick while looking him straight in the eyes, then turn to leave, swaying your hips in those tiny shorts. You can feel his gaze burning into you the entire way out.

That night, you write in your diary:

"Fuck, the way he stared at my mouth while I was sucking that lollipop… I bet he was imagining how my lips would look wrapped around his cock. I wanted him to grab my hair and shove himself down my throat right there in front of everyone. Daddy looked so tense today, but he still praised my academic effort again. I feel like I’m getting so close to finally making him snap."

────────

The class starts as usual, with you sitting in the front row, paying close attention to Professor Park’s lecture as he discusses the topics in that controlled, precise tone.

In the middle of the lecture, Ni-ki — the guy you’ve been tutoring — leans over from the seat next to you and whispers in your ear, "Hey, are we meeting again today?"

You smile at him and nod, leaning in closer on purpose because you know Professor Park is watching. "Yeah, already missing me, Nishimura?"

Ni-ki stays close, chatting quietly with you while the class continues. You smile widely and laugh at everything he says — he’s so funny and goofy. "We can review that part after class if you want," you say sweetly, loud enough for Professor Park to hear.

Sunghoon’s reaction is subtle but noticeable. His jaw clenches, one thick eyebrow lifting for half a second as he watches the two of you. He pauses mid-sentence when he catches Ni-ki staring at your breasts, then continues with a noticeably deeper, colder voice. When his eyes meet yours again, there’s something different in them. Jealousy.

"Concentrate, please," he says to the entire class, but his gaze is locked directly on you.

After class, when most students have left, you stay behind, pretending to organize your notes. Professor Park walks over to your seat and stops right beside you, towering over you with his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps strain against the sleeves of his shirt.

"Miss… I appreciate you helping Ni-ki, but I’d prefer if tutoring sessions stayed professional and outside of my lecture time."

You look up at him with feigned innocence, biting your lower lip. "I’m sorry, Professor. I was just trying to help like you asked… I really want to be useful to you."

Those words make his cock twitch inside his pants.

"That’s fine, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your performance," he replies. "You’re one of my best students. I’d hate to see that change." He lingers for a second longer, staring at you, before stepping back.

"One of." That’s not enough. You want to be his favorite. The only one.

That day, you write:

"He was jealous today, it was so obvious. Daddy didn’t like me giving attention to another guy and fuck, that’s so hot — it left me soaked. I wanted him to snap right there, drag me to his office, put me on all fours and fuck me stupid. I need him to claim me, ruin me, remind me who I belong to. Please, Professor Park."

────────

Another class ends. This time, you don’t wait for everyone to leave so you can have a brief moment alone with Professor Park. In a rush to meet your friends at a nearby café, you end up forgetting your notebook on the desk — the one filled with all your filthy thoughts about him.

Professor Park is packing up his things when he notices the forgotten notebook on the seat where you sat during class. He picks it up, planning to return it to you next lecture, but decides to open it first to check for a name — just to make sure it’s yours. His eyes scan the first page, then the next, and the next.

"Today I met Professor Park and my God, he’s so attractive…"

"I want him to bend me over the desk after everyone leaves, lift my skirt, and fuck me hard."

"I want to be Daddy’s favorite. I’d let him fuck my ass if that’s what it takes to be his good girl."

"I wanted him to grab my hair and shove himself down my throat right there in front of everyone."

He freezes, jaw clenched tight, every muscle in his body tense as he keeps reading. Page after page of your explicit fantasies — the way you teased him with the lollipop, dropped to your knees in front of him, wore shorter and shorter skirts with tighter blouses, all of it deliberately done to provoke him.

With every new entry, his cock grows harder, throbbing painfully against the confines of his pants.

You only realize you forgot the notebook when you’re already halfway across campus. Panic floods through you instantly — every filthy thought, every "Daddy," every explicit fantasy is written in there. Your stomach twists at the thought of someone finding it and reading everything. You run back to the lecture hall as fast as you can.

When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar. Peeking inside, you see that Professor Park is still there.

Breathless, you push the door open. His eyes lock onto yours the second you step inside. The air feels thick, heavier than ever. His gaze is different now — darker, more intense, hungry. In that same instant, you know you’re fucked.

"You forgot this," he says in a low, serious voice. A cruel smile plays on his lips as he holds the notebook out toward you, but he doesn’t let go when you try to take it.

"Interesting reading…" He flips through the pages again and reads one of the entries out loud. "Please, Daddy… notice how desperate your good girl is." Then he lets out a low, mocking laugh — clearly amused by how desperate you sounded in those notes.

Your face burns with shame. The words get stuck in your throat. What excuse could you possibly give when everything is written so explicitly? "Professor… I—"

He closes the notebook with a sharp snap and pins you with a piercing stare that makes your entire body shiver. "We’ll discuss this later. In private."

He finally releases the notebook. The moment it’s in your hands, you turn and flee as fast as your trembling legs can carry you.

The rest of the day is pure torture. You can barely sleep that night, your mind racing with every possible consequence — and every possible thing he might do to you.

Later that evening, your phone vibrates with an email from him.

My office. Thursday, 4:30 PM. We need to discuss the contents of your notebook.

— Sunghoon Park.

On Thursday, you spend the entire day getting ready. You wear the tightest tank top you own — thin enough that your hard, needy nipples are clearly visible — paired with the shortest skirt you’ve ever worn, one that barely covers the curve of your ass.

At exactly 4:30 PM, you knock on his office door, your heart pounding so hard you feel dizzy.

"Come in," he says from inside.

You open the door slowly. There he is, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest, jaw clenched, a malicious smile on his lips and a hungry look in his eyes as they rake over your body from head to toe. The cold, professional mask he always wore in class is gone, replaced by something much darker.

"Lock the door and sit down," he orders, leaving no room for argument.

You obey with trembling hands, locking the door before sitting down, pressing your thighs together. You can already feel your panties getting wet. For a few long seconds, he just stares at you, his gaze lingering on your hard nipples straining against the thin fabric.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he speaks. "You wrote about wanting me to bend you over this desk. About my arms suffocating you. About calling me Daddy. About dressing like a desperate little slut just to get my attention."

You feel exposed, vulnerable, and shamefully aroused, your pussy throbbing.

"I didn’t… I mean, I—" The words die in your throat as he steps closer, towering over you.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to stay professional?" he growls. "Watching you in class every day in those tiny skirts and tight tops. Reading how badly you want me to claim you."

Before you can respond, he grabs your waist and lifts you effortlessly onto his desk. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them so he can step between them.

"Professor Park…" you whimper, your voice trembling with need and nervousness.

He kneels in front of you, eyes locked on yours as he pushes your skirt up and pulls your panties to the side, exposing your needy, dripping wet pussy. The first touch of his hot tongue against your folds makes you gasp sharply.

"Oh God—" you moan, gripping the edge of the desk.

Sunghoon eats you out like a starving man — with long, slow licks from your entrance to your clit, then sucking hard on the swollen bundle of nerves. Two long fingers slide deep inside you, curling perfectly to stroke that sensitive spot while his tongue works relentlessly.

"Sunghoon, fuck— that feels so good," you whimper, tangling your fingers in his hair. "I’ve waited so long for this…"

He growls against your pussy when he hears you moan his name so casually. The vibration sends shivers through your entire body. His fingers pump faster and deeper as he sucks your clit into his mouth. The pressure builds quickly until you cum hard, thighs trembling around his head, loud moans ripping from your throat as you soak his chin and the desk beneath you.

When he finally stands up, his lips are glistening with your juices. He’s breathing heavily, the massive bulge in his pants straining painfully against the fabric.

"Please, Daddy…" You spread your legs even wider, eyes glassy with tears of frustration and pleasure. "I need your cock. Please, fuck me."

Sunghoon steps forward, pressing his clothed erection firmly against your soaked entrance and rubbing slowly. You moan softly, rolling your hips against him desperately, chasing more friction, but he pulls away again.

"I’m not reckless enough to fuck you in my office," he groans, clearly fighting for control. "No matter how badly I want to bury myself inside this needy little pussy."

You let out a pathetic whine, eyes pleading. He leans in close, gripping your jaw firmly with one hand.

"Tonight. My apartment. 8 PM. If you want me to fuck you properly." He pauses, his voice low and dark. "I’ll send you an email with the address."

────────

You arrive at his building exactly at 8 PM, wearing the sluttiest outfit you own. Your pussy is already dripping down your thighs by the time you knock on the door.

Sunghoon opens the door dressed differently from usual — a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide the thick, heavy outline of his hard cock.

"Come in," He orders and you obey, the door closing behind you with a heavy click.

The second you step inside, his reserved professor mask finally shatters and he snaps.

He grabs you by the waist and slams you against the wall, his grip so strong it will definitely leave bruises. "You have no fucking idea what you’ve done to me," he growls, pressing his erection hard against your stomach. "Reading page after page of you begging to be my little whore. Calling me Daddy while thinking about my cock."

You moan, arching into him desperately. "Please… I need it. I’ve needed your cock for so long."

He spins you around and bends you roughly over the back of the couch. Your tiny skirt rides up, exposing your bare, dripping pussy — you didn’t even bother wearing panties. His large hand comes down hard on your ass, making you cry out.

"Look at this desperate little cunt," he says, stroking the spot he just spanked. "Dripping all over my floor." Two thick fingers slide through your folds and push deep inside you without warning. You scream, pushing back against his hand as he fingers you hard, curling his fingers against that sweet spot while his thumb circles your swollen clit.

"You’re tighter than I imagined," he groans, pumping faster. "All those weeks teasing me in those tiny skirts and tight tops… you’re going to take every inch of Daddy’s cock tonight."

You’re already a sobbing, dripping mess. "Yes, Daddy, please fuck me."

He pulls his fingers out, yanks your top up to free your breasts, and spins you around to face him. Before you can say anything, his mouth crashes against yours in a hungry, demanding, almost desperate kiss — his tongue pushing past your lips to claim you completely.

You melt into him, moaning into his mouth while grinding against his hard cock. When he finally pulls back, your lips are swollen and you’re panting.

He walks you backward toward the bedroom, still kissing you between steps, until the back of your knees hit the bed. Sunghoon throws you onto your back, pulls off his shirt, and shoves down his sweatpants — finally freeing his cock that springs out, thick and rock hard with pulsing veins along the shaft. Your mouth waters at the sight.

He climbs on top of you, grabs your thighs and spreads them wide. Without any ceremony, he lines up and thrusts deep inside you in one brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt in your soaked pussy. "Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight."

Then he starts fucking you hard — deep, merciless thrusts that make the bed creak and his heavy balls slap against your ass with every stroke.

You’re completely lost in it, moaning like a whore because he’s so big and the stretch is overwhelming. "Your cock is so big… you’re stretching me so good."

He leans down and kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you. His muscular body pins you to the mattress, his heat and weight dominating you the best way possible.

"You’re mine now," he growls against your lips. "My perfect little pet. This pussy belongs to me now."

Sunghoon presses one hand firmly on your lower belly and starts fucking you with slow but incredibly deep strokes. His cock is so long and buried so deep that you can clearly see the bulge moving under your skin with every thrust.

"I can literally see my cock bulging your tiny stomach. Feel that?" He thrusts harder, pressing down so you can feel the head of his cock pushing against his hand through your body.

You nod, sobbing with pleasure, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, I feel it. You’re ruining my pussy, Daddy. I’m so full."

"My cock is bigger than your little womb can handle… but you’re still taking every inch like a good girl," he groans, almost hypnotized.

"Please, don’t stop," you beg desperately, voice breaking. He fucks you even deeper, one hand still pressing on the bulge in your stomach while the other pins your wrists above your head.

The pressure becomes unbearable until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, screaming as your pussy clenches violently around his cock, squirting while he keeps fucking you through it. The sight and feeling push him over the edge too. He buries himself as deep as your body allows and fills you with thick, hot ropes of cum, groaning loudly as he empties himself inside you.

He slowly pulls out of you, his cock glistening with the mixture of both your cum. You’re panting, legs still trembling from the intense orgasm, when suddenly he flips you onto your stomach without warning. He grabs your hips and pulls your ass up, putting you on all fours.

"Arch your back," he orders. "I want to fuck you like the desperate little pet you are."

You obey immediately, arching your back deeply and presenting your wet, swollen pussy to him. This position leaves you completely at his mercy as his tall, muscular frame towers behind you.

He leans over you, one hand sliding down your spine until he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. With the other hand, he turns your head to the side and kisses you deeply. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch while his thick cock teases between your ass cheeks.

You moan into the kiss, melting under him. "Daddy… fuck me harder," you beg breathlessly against his lips.

He kisses you even more aggressively, biting your lower lip before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "Open your mouth."

You obey without hesitation, sliding your tongue out slightly. Sunghoon leans over you and spits directly into your open mouth — a thick string of saliva landing on your tongue.

You moan pathetically and swallow it all. "Thank you, Daddy…"

"Good girl," he praises with a wide smile, then spits into your mouth again. "Now take my cock."

He pushes you back down onto the mattress, grips your hips with both large hands, and thrusts into you with one brutal stroke. The new angle lets him bury every thick inch even deeper, stretching your tight pussy to its limit.

"Fuck!" you cry out, fingers gripping the sheets. "You’re so deep like this… Oh my God."

Sunghoon starts fucking you hard, his hips slamming against your ass with loud, wet slaps that push your body forward with every thrust. His thick cock rubs against your cervix and every sensitive spot inside you — the obscene sound of your soaked pussy getting fucked filling the room.

He keeps one hand on the back of your neck, pressing your face into the mattress while the other spanks your ass hard in time with his thrusts, leaving red marks on your skin. "Take it," he groans. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked like a bitch in heat by your professor."

"Yes, yes, Daddy." you moan loudly, pushing your hips back desperately to meet his rhythm. "Fuck me harder… I love being your little slut."

He leans over you again, chest pressed against your back, and continues pounding into you mercilessly. Every thrust makes your ass ripple and your tits bounce beneath you.

Sunghoon reaches around and grabs one of your breasts roughly, pinching your nipple without slowing his punishing pace — his heavy balls slapping against your clit with every stroke.

"You’re so fucking tight like this," he growls against your ear, biting your shoulder. "This tiny pussy was made for my cock."

You’re sobbing with pleasure, completely lost in how deep and hard his huge cock is fucking you. "I’m gonna cum. Sunghoon, please... can I cum?" you beg, voice breaking.

He slaps your ass hard again, making you squirm under him. "Cum on my cock like a good girl."

You scream into the mattress as your inner walls clench violently around him, the orgasm hitting you violently. He doesn’t slow down — he fucks you straight through it, chasing his own release.

Until he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with another huge load, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum deep inside your pussy in heavy spasms.

You’re still trembling and leaking his cum when he pulls out and suddenly flips you onto your back so he can look at your ruined body and flushed, wrecked expression. "On your knees," he commands, his voice low and rough.

You obey instantly, like you always do. Sunghoon reaches over to the nightstand where he keeps his satin ties and grabs a couple. "Hands behind your back, pet." He ties your wrists securely behind you and then binds your ankles, leaving you completely helpless on the bed.

The silk bites into your skin just tight enough to make you fully at his mercy. When you test the restraints and realize you can’t escape, a needy moan escapes you.

"Look at you…" he says, slowly stroking his cock, which is already rock hard again. "All tied up and dripping for me. Exactly how a desperate little slut should be.:

You whimper, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Daddy, please..."

He lets out a cruel laugh, then grabs you by the hair and drags you off the bed to the large full-length mirror on the bedroom wall. He positions you on your knees right in front of it, facing your own reflection. "Eyes open," he whispers into your ear. "Watch what I do to you."

You stare at the obscene image in the mirror: your wrists and ankles bound, your skirt bunched uselessly around your waist, tits exposed, and your face flushed with lust.

Sunghoon kneels behind you, his muscular body making yours look tiny. He yanks your head back by the hair and thrusts into you with one brutal stroke, burying his cock to the hilt.

He starts fucking you hard, deep and punishing thrusts that jolt your bound body forward. His biceps flex as he grips your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with every stroke. The mirror shows everything — your tits bouncing, your face twisted in pleasure, and his body dominating you from behind.

"Fuck, look how well your tight little pussy takes me," he groans. One hand wraps around your throat while the other arm snakes around your upper body. He pulls you back against his chest, smothering you between those massive biceps while he keeps thrusting. Your vision starts to blur from the overwhelming pleasure as you gasp for air, forced to watch yourself being destroyed in the mirror.

Sunghoon unties your ankles and in one smooth motion stands up, lifting your body like you weigh nothing. He presses you against the mirror, your tits and cheek smashing against the cold glass as he enters you from behind again.

The mirror fogs up with your hot breath while he fucks you relentlessly. "You teased me for weeks," he growls in your ear, one hand still gripping your throat. "Now you get to watch yourself get fucked like the whore you are." His hips slam against your ass with loud, wet smacks, his cock driving incredibly deep in this standing position.

You cum hard, screaming as your pussy squirts around his cock and your legs shake violently, but he doesn’t stop. He pulls out, spins you around, and lifts you onto his cock, impaling you completely again. His strong arms do all the work, bouncing your bound body up and down on his thick shaft.

"Beg for it," he demands.

"Please, Daddy, cum inside me again," you sob desperately. "Fill your good girl up… I need it so bad."

He buries himself to the hilt one final time and floods your pussy with another massive load, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum until it overflows around his cock and drips down your ass.

Still buried deep inside you, he carries you back to the bed and sits you up on the edge of it, standing in front of you. "Open that pretty mouth. Time to clean Daddy’s cock and get your throat fucked."

He doesn’t wait for you to do it. He simply grabs your hair and slaps his cum-covered cock against your tongue a few times before shoving it straight down your throat. You gag hard, your eyes watering instantly as he forces his thick length past your gag reflex.

"That’s it, swallow it all, you filthy little cocksucker," he groans, starting to thrust deep and steady.

You gag and drool uncontrollably, thick strings of saliva running down your chin and dripping onto your tits and thighs. Glk- glk- glk. The obscene sounds fill the room as he fucks your face mercilessly.

You pull against the restraints around your wrists, trying to escape while moaning around his cock. When he pulls out briefly to let you breathe, you gasp desperately. "I’m your dirty little whore, Daddy."

He groans and thrusts back in, fucking your throat harder and faster while holding you in place. Tears stream down your face, but you keep looking up at him submissively. Finally, with a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt and cums straight down your throat. You swallow every drop like the good girl you are, coughing and gasping for air when he finally pulls out.

Sunghoon releases the restraints from your wrists and sits on the edge of the bed, his cock still hard and glistening, slapping against his stomach. He pulls you onto his lap, gripping your hips possessively. "Get on top, baby," he says, his voice low and rough. "I want to watch you ride Daddy’s cock."

Even though you’re trembling and completely wrecked, you obey. You straddle him, align his cock with your soaked entrance, and sink down slowly, moaning loudly as he stretches you open again. "Fuck… Daddy, you’re so deep like this," you moan, bottoming out with a shaky breath.

Sunghoon leans back slightly, supporting himself on his hands, his thick dark eyebrows furrowed as he watches you. One large hand immediately slides up to your breast, squeezing it hard while his thumb brushes over your sensitive nipple. "Ride me. Show me how badly you wanted this."

You start moving, rolling your hips and bouncing on his cock. He slaps your ass hard. SMACK. the sharp sound echoing as your flesh jiggles. "Faster," he demands, slapping the other cheek even harder. "Don’t be shy. Fuck yourself on me like you wrote in that dirty little notebook."

You ride him harder, your tits bouncing wildly in front of his face. He leans forward and catches one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his other hand keeps spanking and groping your ass, occasionally spreading your cheeks so he can feel how tightly you’re stretched around him.

"Oh my God, Sunghoon!" you moan loudly, head falling back. "Your cock feels so good… I love your cock. Please, spank my ass harder!"

His big hand comes down again and again, turning your ass red while his other hand kneads and pinches your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The mix of pain and pleasure makes your pussy clench around him.

"Look at you… bouncing on your professor’s cock like a whore. These pretty tits are mine." He squeezes them together, burying his face between them, biting and sucking marks into your soft skin.

You’re losing control, riding him relentlessly while grinding your clit against his pelvis with every bounce. "I’m gonna cum, please. Can I cum?" you beg.

He slaps your ass one more time, hard enough to make you scream, then grips your hips tightly and starts thrusting up to meet you. "Cum," he growls against your chest. "Cream all over Daddy’s cock."

You scream loudly, your body shaking violently as your pussy clenches and squirts around his thick shaft. Sunghoon doesn’t stop — he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, spanking your ass and playing with your bouncing tits until he groans deeply and buries himself inside you, pumping another thick load into your already overflowing pussy.

Sunghoon gently rubs your wrists and ankles before lifting your trembling body along with his and carrying you in his arms to the bathroom.

Under the hot streams of water, he presses your body against the tiles, pinning you there. "Can you take one more? Just one more for me, hm? I know you can, baby…"

You nod quickly. "I can."

He lifts one of your legs, lines himself up, and slides back into your sore, dripping pussy. The water cascades over both of you as he fucks you deep and steady, one thick arm wrapped loosely around your throat from behind while his other hand gropes your breasts and rubs your clit.

"You’re such a messy little whore, but so good for me," he whispers in your ear, thrusting harder. "Still leaking my cum down your thighs."

"Yes, I’m yours," you whimper, pushing back against him. "Fill me again, please. Breed me. I want to be yours forever, Daddy."

He pins you harder against the wall until you cum again, moaning his name. With one final deep thrust, he groans and releases inside you once more, making the mixture of cum and water run down your legs.

Sunghoon turns off the water, dries you carefully, and kisses every mark he left on your body. He carries you back to the bed and pulls you into his arms, cuddling you against his chest.

"You were incredible tonight," he murmurs softly, stroking your hair. "Such a good girl for Daddy. You took everything so well."

You nuzzle into him, your voice low and exhausted. "Thank you, Daddy… I loved every second. I’m yours now."

He massages your sore wrists, thighs, and neck with gentle, careful hands, then brings you water and holds the glass while you drink. He cleans between your legs again with a warm cloth, kissing your forehead the whole time.

"Stay here with me," he whispers, wrapping you in those strong arms. "Rest, baby."

You fall asleep feeling safe and warm in his arms, completely owned, satisfied, and already dreaming about the next time.

────────

You wake up slowly, your body sore and marked — your thighs sticky with dried cum, your throat still a little raw. You smile to yourself like a lovestruck idiot, then slip out of bed wearing one of his dress shirts that you stole from the chair in the room.

You walk toward the kitchen, following the smell of fresh coffee. He’s standing at the counter, so you quietly approach from behind and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Good morning…" you murmur, kissing his back softly. "Thank you for last night. I can still feel you everywhere."

Sunghoon doesn’t turn around immediately. He stays still for a moment, then lets out a low, cold laugh that makes your stomach twist.

He finally turns, wearing that same reserved, stern expression he used during lectures as he looks at you like you’re something both pathetic and mildly amusing.

"You’re already acting clingy?" he says, his voice low and cruel. "One night of getting your holes ruined and you think you can play housewife?"

Your cheeks burn, but you still try to be sweet, pressing your body against his and rubbing your hard nipples against his chest.

"Sorry… I just feel so close to you right now," you whisper softly, looking up at him with big, adoring eyes. "I love being your good girl."

He reaches out and grabs your chin roughly, forcing your head back with a firm, almost painful grip. "Look at you," he says mockingly. "So desperate and sweet in the morning. You were screaming like a whore last night, begging Daddy to fill your insides with cum… and now you’re cuddling up to me like a lost puppy?"

Before you can respond, he releases your chin and turns back to the counter as if you don’t even deserve his attention. But you keep trying, stepping forward again and wrapping your arms around him from behind. "Please, Sunghoon… I really like you. It’s not just the sex—"

"Enough," he interrupts sharply. He turns again, grabs you by the waist, and easily lifts you onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs. The shirt rides up, exposing your bare, still-swollen pussy. "You’re not going to play sweet and domestic after writing page after page about wanting to be my personal cum dump."

"But… I want to make you happy," you say softly, your voice trembling.

He leans in close, trapping you on the counter. "Then stay quiet and keep that little cunt ready for whenever I want it," he says coldly. "Sweetness doesn’t suit a desperate teacher’s pet like you. Now spread your legs wider and stop pretending you’re anything more than my dirty little secret."

He delivers a hard, cruel slap directly to your clit, making you gasp. Then he steps back, leaving you sitting there exposed, dripping, and aching on the counter while he casually drinks his coffee.

you loved school.

not because you were some overly studious nerd who couldn't get enough of textbooks and homework, but because school felt freeing. it was the only place where your lungs didn’t burn with the suffocating scent of alcohol.

home was different.

you dreaded walking back every afternoon, fingers tightening around your bag as you stood outside the front door, already knowing what waited on the other side.

the smell hit first.

sharp. bitter. stale.

it clung to the walls, the furniture and your clothes like it had permanently seeped into every corner of your life.

you hated it. you hated what caused it even more.

your dad.

ever since your mom died from a brutal car accident, your life had never been the same.

what was once a warm, happy family slowly fell apart piece by piece. your dad changed after her death. at first it was only a drink or two after work, small enough for you to pretend it wasn’t becoming a problem.

but as the days turned into months, and the months into years, his grief only grew heavier.

and so did the drinking.

he drowned himself in alcohol so often that eventually, it felt like he stopped being your father altogether. the man who used to laugh with your mom in the kitchen and drive you to school every morning became nothing more than a stranger passing through the house.

now, you couldn’t even remember the last proper conversation the two of you had without it turning into some sort of argument.

it had probably been almost two years.

you kept your bag slung over one shoulder as you sat in class, staring at your notebook without really seeing it.

you blinked slowly, forcing yourself to write a few words down just so it looked like you were listening.

around you, everyone else seemed more awake than you felt.

moka was somewhere nearby, probably already done copying notes and now quietly kicking your chair just to get your attention.

“psst,” she whispered. “you’re literally spacing out again.”

you turned your head slightly, forcing a small hum of acknowledgment.

“i’m not,” you mumbled.

instead of turning back to her work, she leaned forward a little.

“hey,” she whispered again. “random question.”

“do you think minju likes anyone?” that got your attention.

you glanced at her. “what?”

moka tried (and failed) to look casual.

“nothing. i was just wondering.”

you stared at her for a second, “you like her.”

“shh!” moka immediately hissed, looking around even though nobody was paying attention. “keep your voice down.”

you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips, “wow.”

you let out a quiet laugh.

for the first time all lesson, moka looked more distracted than you did.

the bell eventually came like a relief you didn’t realize you were waiting for.

chairs pushed back, the room filled with noise again, and people started packing up faster than the teacher could even finish speaking.

you moved a little slower, slipping your notebook into your bag while everyone else rushed out.

moka waited for you by the door, rocking back on her heels.

the hallway was crowded, loud with students spilling out of classrooms, lockers slamming shut, voices overlapping everywhere.

you kept your gaze forward, letting moka talk beside you about something random—someone’s drama, a test she barely studied for, a teacher she didn’t like.

you responded here and there, but your answers were short, half there.

at one point, minju passed by with a few friends and moka's sentence immediately cut off.

you watched her eyes follow minju for a second before she quickly looked away.

“you are so obvious,” you said.

“i literally didn't do anything.”

“right.”

“i didn't!”

by the time you reached the school gates, the air outside felt slightly better.

you slowed down without realizing it as you began to focus on what moka had to say.

“come on, y/n!” moka whined, dramatically tugging on your arm as the two of you walked out of school. “it’s been forever, and we’re always hanging out at my place. i wanna go to yours for once too.”

you let out a quiet sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

“maybe another time.”

“that’s what you said last time,” she pouted, narrowing her eyes at you suspiciously. “and the time before that. are you secretly hiding something in your house or something?”

if only she knew.

your grip tightened slightly around your bag. “it’s just messy.”

“messy?” moka scoffed. “y/n, my room literally looks like a tornado hit it every other day. i don’t care.”

you forced out a small laugh, but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

moka slowed her steps, her expression softening almost immediately. “hey,” she said quietly, nudging your shoulder. “you know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”

the words made something uncomfortable twist in your chest.

because something was wrong.

something had been wrong for years now.

but no matter how many times moka asked, you could never bring yourself to say it out loud. admitting it would make everything feel too real.

so instead, you smiled. "nothing’s wrong,” you lied.

moka stared at you for a moment longer before sighing dramatically again. “fineee. but one day i’m showing up at your house uninvited.”

your heart nearly stops. "don't do that," you give her a playful smile to cover up the anxiousness that filled your heart.

"there’s a convenience store near your house, right? we can just go there.” she suggests.

you paused for a second. “…okay,” you said quietly.

moka immediately lit up and the two of you started walking. her chatter filling the space as she talked about random things you barely registered. your steps slowed slightly the closer you got to your neighborhood, that familiar weight settling in your chest again.

same streets. same air. same feeling you always tried to escape after school.

moka, however, didn’t notice. she was too busy skipping ahead a few steps, pointing at random things like she always did.

inside the convenience store, everything felt almost normal again.

the soft buzz of the fridge, the quiet beeping at the register, the crinkle of snack bags as you and moka wandered the aisles like you had all the time in the world.

moka had already claimed half the store in her arms again. “this is for later,” she said, dropping a pack of chips into her basket. “and this is for now. and this is just… because i feel like it.”

you shook your head slightly, picking out a drink and tossing it into your own hand-held basket. for a moment, it almost felt easy.

then the door slammed open, the bell above it rang too loudly.

you both paused.

a man stumbled inside, slightly off balance, holding onto the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright. his breath was heavy, his eyes unfocused, and he walked straight to the alcohol section without even looking around.

he grabbed a few cans of beer then stopped at the counter.

the cashier greeted him politely, but the man didn’t respond properly. he just stared for a second too long, like he was trying to understand something that wasn’t making sense.

and then his voice suddenly snapped through the store.

“why are you charging me this much? are you trying to rob me or something?”

you stiffened a bit.

the cashier blinked, clearly startled. “sir, that’s the price—”

“don’t lie to me,” the man barked, slamming the cans down harder than necessary. “you think i don’t know what you people do?”

the entire store felt like it had gone quiet.

a few customers glanced over. someone near the entrance stepped back. moka slowly lowered her basket.

you weren’t looking at the cashier anymore.

you were looking at the man.

and something in your chest tightened, cold and familiar, before you could stop it. the moment you realized who it was, everything in your body went still.

the voice. the posture.

no.

no, no, no.

your basket slipped slightly in your hand.

“y/n?” moka whispered, noticing your sudden change. “hey… what’s wrong?”

you couldn’t answer, your throat felt tight like something had wrapped around it and pulled.

your dad’s voice cut through the store again, louder now, more unsteady.

“what are you staring at?”

he turned and his eyes landed on you.

for a split second, there was nothing there. no recognition, just confusion. then it hit him.

“oh,” he said, voice sharpening instantly. “so you’re here.”

moka frowned, looking between you and him. “wait… you know him?”

you still couldn’t speak.

your dad stepped away from the counter, unsteady but suddenly focused on you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, pointing vaguely. “why are you even out? what, you think you can just—”

his voice rose, drawing attention again.

you took a small step back without realizing it.

your breathing was wrong now. too fast. too shallow. like your body didn’t know how to stay inside itself properly.

moka grabbed your arm, panicked. “y/n, hey—hey, look at me.”

his face twisted as he noticed your reaction.

“oh, don’t start with that,” he barked suddenly, louder. “don’t do that, you guilt tripping bitch.”

his words blurred together after that.

all you could feel was the noise. the store. the breathing. the weight of being seen like this. and moka, beside you, suddenly very, very unsure of what she was watching.

your dad’s eyes stayed on you, unfocused and unsteady, like he was seeing you through something warped.

“stop standing there like that,” he snapped suddenly. “you always do this. you always show up at the worst times and make everything—”

he cut himself off, jaw tightening as he dragged a hand down his face.

“you don’t get it,” he muttered, voice rough, fraying at the edges. “the way you look at me.. it's just like her.”

your chest tightened.

he pointed vaguely in your direction, not even fully steady on his feet.

“i wish i never had you.” he said sharply.

it wasn’t a big sentence but it landed like one.

something in you cracked open, too loud in your head. your vision blurred before you could stop it.

moka said your name again, more urgent this time, but it barely reached you. you took a step back before you ran out of the store. vision blurred which completely blind sighted you.

it didn’t matter, you kept moving anyway.

the park had gone quiet by the time midnight rolled in, leaving only the distant hum of cars and the soft rustle of trees moving in the cold air.

you had stayed there for hours without really meaning to, just sitting through the weight of your thoughts until everything blurred.

eventually, your legs carried you home on their own. the closer you got, the heavier everything felt, the familiar streets and dim streetlights doing nothing to ease the tight feeling in your chest.

when you finally reached your building, you paused in front of the door longer than you should have. for a moment, you just stood there, staring at it, as if waiting for something to change if you delayed it long enough.

but nothing did, so you went inside.

the smell hit you the second you stepped in.

stale alcohol, thick and sour, already filling the air like it had nowhere else to go. it clung to everything instantlu, slipping into your lungs before you even had time to brace yourself for it.

then, slowly, you stepped in and let the door close behind you.

you paused in the doorway for a moment, eyes instinctively moving to the living room, expecting to see your dad like usual—slumped on the couch, tv on, bottle in hand.

but the couch was empty, no tv, no movement, no sign of him at all.

your chest tightened slightly as you stepped inside, realizing pretty quickly what that meant. he wasn’t home. he had gone out again.

you did enjoy these moments when he was out, when the apartment didn’t feel as suffocating and you could move around freely without the fear of running into him.

you made your way to your room, closing the door behind you a little too softly, like even sound felt dangerous tonight.

once you were inside, you sat on the edge of your bed and finally reached for your phone. the screen lit up immediately, a few notifications already waiting for you.

there were multiple messages, all sent not long after you ran out of the store.

where are you?? please answer me im so sorry about him, i didnt know your dad was like that are you okay??

you stared at moka’s messages for a moment longer, your thumb hovering before you finally typed back.

im okay

you didn’t wait for a reply.

instead, you locked your phone and set it aside, like that alone could shut the world out for a while. then you got up and headed to the bathroom, moving on autopilot.

the shower helped a little, but not enough to really fix anything. just enough to blur your thoughts at the edges, to make the day feel slightly farther away than it was before.

when you were done, you changed into something comfortable—an oversized shirt that swallowed your frame, soft shorts, and a pair of socks that made your steps quieter against the floor.

you didn’t feel better.

but at least you felt a little less like you were holding everything together.

you eventually made your way downstairs, more out of habit than hunger, opening the fridge and staring at it for a moment before grabbing whatever was easiest to make.

a classic nutella sandwich.

the quiet of the apartment helped a little while you moved around the kitchen, focused on the small task in front of you.

suddenly, you hear from the front door a soft click, followed by it opening.

your hands froze mid-motion.

for a second you didn’t even breathe, just standing there as the sound of footsteps reached the entryway.

your mind immediately filled in the worst possibility.

him.

without thinking, you crouched down quickly and slid under the kitchen counter, pulling your legs in close and pressing yourself into the small space as quietly as you could.

your heart was already racing.

a heavier sound, like someone struggling slightly with weight, something being shifted carefully rather than dropped or thrown. the kind of sound that made your stomach tighten all over again because it didn’t fit the scenario your brain had already prepared for.

you hesitantly shifted just enough to peek out from your hiding spot.

what you saw made you freeze completely.

a man you didn’t recognize was inside your apartment, steadying your dad’s unconscious body with a firm grip as he guided him toward the couch. your dad looked completely out of it, barely supported, his weight slumped against the stranger’s shoulder.

the man set him down carefully, adjusting his position so he wouldn’t fall off, before straightening up and finally glancing around the room.

that was when you really saw him properly.

he was really good-looking. like genuinely breath taking. sharp jawline, straight nose that gave his face a clean, structured look.

holy shit.

you slowly rose from under the counter, the man hadn’t noticed you yet, his attention still on your dad as he adjusted him slightly on the couch, making sure he was stable.

carefully, you stepped out into the open, each movement slow and hesitant. only when your footsteps lightly brushed against the floor did he pause.

he turned.

his eyes landed on you, and for a brief second his expression shifted—subtle surprise flickering across his face, like he genuinely hadn’t expected anyone else to be there.

his gaze stayed on you for a moment longer before he spoke, voice calm but curious.

“oh? i didn't know he had a daughter.”

of course that fucker wouldn’t have told anyone about you.

you stepped a little closer, your eyes drifting past the stranger to where your father now lay on the couch, completely out of it. the sight made something in your stomach twist. slumped, unresponsive, the reality of it settling in all over again in a way you didn’t want to look at for too long.

you forced your gaze away.

the man noticed the shift in your expression almost immediately. without saying anything else, he turned and started walking toward the kitchen. a silent cue to go with him.

after a brief hesitation, you followed him.

the apartment felt quieter the farther you moved from the living room, like the tension there stayed behind with your father. the kitchen light was softer, warmer somehow, and he leaned slightly against the counter as he waited, glancing at you once you stepped in behind him.

“sorry, should’ve introduced myself,” he said, glancing at you properly. “i’m sunghoon.”

you noticed the way his eyes lingered on your face for a moment, like he was quietly trying to place you in the picture he already had in his head.

“i’m y/n,” you said softly, your voice coming out smaller than you intended.

there was a brief pause after that.

you found yourself looking back at him properly too, the thick brows that gave him a naturally composed look. the moles on his face, one sitting close to the bridge of his nose, another a little lower on his cheek.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, rolling it between his fingers for a second before lighting it. the small spark briefly lit his face, then faded as he took a slow drag, his eyes still resting on you like he hadn’t missed a single thing you’d said or done.

the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy in a way you couldn’t quite name.

“sorry about your dad,” he said after a moment, exhaling faintly to the side so the smoke didn’t drift toward you. his tone stayed calm, almost matter-of-fact, but there was something softer underneath it. “i know he’s… not easy to deal with.”

you weren’t sure what to say to that.

“it’s okay… i’m used to it,” you said quietly, lowering your gaze to the floor instead of looking at him.

sunghoon watched you for a moment, his cigarette still between his fingers as he took another slow drag. there was a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth, not mocking, just faintly amused in a way that made him look even more unreadable.

“we were out having drinks and he passed out like usual,” he said casually, exhaling smoke to the side. his eyes never really left you. “normally i wouldn’t see anyone home. this is the first time i’ve seen you.”

his tone made it sound simple, like he was just stating a fact, but the way he looked at you suggested he was taking in more than just the situation. the way his eyes roamed from your face, down to your chest and legs.

was he checking you out?

he tilted his head slightly, cigarette still between his fingers as he held it out a little in your direction, like it was an offer that didn’t require much thought.

“want one?”

your eyes dropped to it for a second before flicking back up to him, “actually, are you even old enough to?” he asked, tone flat but with a hint of amusement under it.

you scoffed under your breath, the smallest bit of defiance slipping through. “i’m 18. of course i can.”

then your gaze dropped again, voice quieter this time.

“i’ve done it before...”

sunghoon didn’t say anything right away.

he studied you for a moment longer, like he was weighing your words instead of just hearing them. then, without much ceremony, he pulled another cigarette from the pack and offered it anyway.

“then take one, little girl,” he said simply.

your heart skips a beat at the nickname. cheeks flushing before you hesitantly grabbed it.

a lighter flicked between his fingers a second later, and soon enough the quiet of your kitchen was filled with that faint, drifting smoke curling into the air between you.

the kitchen stayed quiet, only the faint hum of the fridge and the slow burn of the cigarette filling the space between you.

sunghoon leaned against the counter like he had nowhere else to be, eyes drifting over you for a moment before settling again. not intense, but observant in a way that made it hard to ignore.

you shifted slightly under his gaze, unsure what to say or do with the silence.

a small exhale left him, almost like a quiet laugh.

“not much of a talker, are we?” he said, voice low and calm, like he was commenting on the weather rather than you.

your eyes flicked up to him briefly before dropping again. “i just don’t know what to say.”

that seemed to amuse him a little more. he took another slow drag, watching you through the smoke as if he was figuring you out.

sunghoon’s gaze drifted away from you, slowly scanning the room like he was taking it in properly for the first time instead of just standing in it.

that’s when he stopped and his eyes settled on the wall behind you.

there was an old framed photo hanging slightly off-center, like it had been put there a long time ago and never adjusted since.

you followed his gaze.

it was a picture from years ago, before everything changed. you were thirteen, caught in a moment you barely felt like belonged to you anymore. smiling too brightly, arms wrapped around your mom and dad in a way that looked so easy, so normal, it almost didn’t feel real now.

sunghoon didn’t say anything right away. his expression shifted slightly, something unreadable passing through his eyes as he looked at it longer than expected.

then he glanced back at you, like he was comparing the photo to the person standing in front of him now.

“you look so happy in that,” he said after a pause.

your throat tightened immediately.

“i was,” you said, then quickly added, softer, “i guess.”

the words hung in the air longer than you meant them to. sunghoon’s expression shifted slightly, something quieter settling in his eyes as he looked at you instead of the photo now.

“he's been like this since your mom died?” he asked. “that man always complains and goes on and on about his dead wife, especially moments before he passes out.”

you chuckled lightly, the words hitting a little too close. “yeah,” you managed.

sunghoon glanced back at the photo “he must've loved her a lot.”

the smile on your face faltered.

“i guess.”

a quiet silence settled between you. your fingers tightened slightly at your sides.

“sometimes i think he forgets he still has someone here.”

the words left his mouth so casually that he probably didn't realize what he'd just said. but you felt them.

all at once.

because he was right.

your father talked about your mother constantly. missed your mother constantly. drank because of your mother constantly.

and somewhere along the way, you'd stopped being his daughter and started becoming just another thing in the house.

you let out a shaky breath, looking down because you couldn’t really look at either him or the photo anymore.

you couldn't even give a response back and that alone was enough to make your chest feel worse.

then sunghoon moved closer. he put down the cigarette before his hand lifted slightly, hesitating for a second like he was deciding whether or not to cross that line, before gently resting on your shoulder and pulling you in.

safe in a way you weren’t used to.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until your face pressed into his shoulder, the tears coming out quieter at first before you couldn’t hold them back anymore.

sunghoon didn’t say anything at first. he just stayed there, one hand lightly at your back, the other at the back of your waist, rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

“i'm sorry baby,” he said eventually, low and close enough that only you could hear it.

his words suddenly crash all over you. reminding you of the times of when your father would comfort you like this in his arms.

he exhales once, small, like he’s pulling himself back.

“it must be hard,” he says. you nod faintly, but don’t move away.

you cried pathetically into his shoulder as he embraced you even tighter, before pulling his head back.

“how about we go to your room?” he said quietly. “we wouldn’t want your father waking up and seeing you like this.”

you blinked, still trying to steady your breathing, and gave a slow nod.

sunghoon knows he shouldn't.

especially not with one of his friends daughter.

he knows he shouldn't be doing this, yet he can't help but continue placing small hickeys across your neck, spreading them down till your collarbone.

youre resting on top of his lap, hands cramped up against his chest as you nervously grasp onto his shirt, feeling confused how you even ended up here.

"i- i don't know if we should be d-doing this..." your voice shakes as he licks over one of the many spots he marked on you.

he chuckles at your words, "shh.. baby, let daddy take care of you alright?"

his hands grip firmly at your waist before he goes back in for another kiss. it's gentle and slow, almost like as if he's savouring the taste of your lips.

you try matching back the rhythm and movement of his lips, but fail miserably as you accidentally bite too hard on your own tongue. you wince lightly from the pain as sunghoon pulls back and smirks at you.

"poor bunny doesn't know how to kiss?" he smirks, almost mocking you for not knowing how to.

you bite your lip, attempting to hide the embarrassment spreading across your face. sunghoon notices and brings his thumb to your lip.

"don't worry my little girl, daddy'll teach you everything."

fuck, his words. the way he comforted you. the way he held you. why was it enough build up the wetness between your legs now?

before you can react, his mouth is on yours again. it's soft, slow and warm, "don't overthink it, just follow my lips," he mumbles against your mouth.

you start to follow the movement of his lips, your hands roaming towards the nape of his neck as he deepens the kiss. his mouth opens slightly as he slowly brings his tongue inside your mouth, meeting yours.

you quiver slightly, unsure of what to do but when sunghoon slides his tongue against yours, your tongue is able to naturally follow his. the kiss had gotten so heated, so wet and sloppy.

as the kiss continued, you felt his growing erection form harder beneath you. in the desperate state you were in, your body instinctively grinded forward on its own, earning a groan from sunghoon.

sunghoon pulls back from the kiss and looks at you. your eyes were hazy, almost like as if you were hallucinated from the kiss.

"keep doing that f'me, you wanna feel good yeah?" you nod your head at his words.

at his orders you continue to grind your clothed core against the large bulge in his pants. your whimper at the friction as you hold onto his arms to balance yourself.

"fuck.. you're doing so well for me," he groans at the pleasure.

his hand suddenly comes to grip your jaw, forcing your mouth open. "stick out your tongue," you're confused but you do as he says, slowly sticking it out. he spits in your mouth, letting it slowly drip until it reaches your tongue.

sunghoon smirks at the sigh infront of him, you with your tongue out thats all covered in his spit, "swallow it all f'me, get a good taste."

without hesitation, you swallow. sunghoon nods his head in approval before his hips continue to move against yours again. his pace is faster now as youre both desperately grinding against each other for release.

"f-fuck.. feels so good.." you moan out as you grip his arms even tighter now.

suddenly, sunghoon grips your shoulders and pushes you back down onto the bed, hovering on top of you. "you look so pretty baby," he leaves a peck to your lips before slowly trailing down from your jaw to your neck, "have you ever done anything like this before?"

when you shake your head, sunghoon gives you a sly smile. "my bunny is still a virgin huh? how cute."

sunghoon doesn't waste time to lift your shirt up, exposing the cute pink bra you wore underneath. he brings his face closer to your clothed chest, placing a kiss right in the middle of your breasts.

he then lifts your bra up aswell, your breasts finally exposed as the cold air hits your skin. your nipples slightly harden at the sudden temperature drop.

sunghoon licks his lips before attaching his mouth to one your nipples, flicking his tongue over it. you gasp at the warmth of his mouth on your chest as you hold onto the bedsheets.

his hands trail from your shoulders down to your thighs, massaging them slowly before his hand makes its way over to your clothed core.

you're absolutely soaked through your shorts, sunghoon smirks at the feeling of your wetness before slowly rubbing your clit through the soaked fabric.

"fuck baby.. you're so wet, all this for me?" he coos at you as you nod your head while gasping at the pleasure his fingers are offering you.

sunghoon grabs onto the hem of your shorts, tugging them once before pulling them down along with your underwear, leaving you completely bare underneath him.

he curses under his breath at the sight of you. you're so undeniably innocent yet so sexy, he can't believe his friend was able to create someone like you.

your legs close together as you feel the embarrassment of being nude hit you. sunghoon notices and forces them apart again, "keep 'em open for me,"

sunghoon doesn't wait any longer before removing his clothing too. he first removes his shirt, revealing his slightly toned abs and biceps which he catches you staring at before smirking to himself.

his hands grip onto the sides of his pants before he pulls them down just below his boxers, his bulge being even more prominent now. his thumbs tug inside his boxers before he slides them down too just half way, revealing his thick cock which was already leaking precum.

your mouth dropped slightly. you were shocked or more should you say... scared? nervous? he was huge. even his tip seemed like it'd be painful enough for you.

sunghoon noticed the nervousness on your face and chuckled, "aw, is my little girl scared? 's okay, daddy's cock will make you feel reaaal good." he says before he leans down and places a kiss on your forehead.

your heart beats like crazy as the wetness continues to pool up underneath you. sunghoon's hands make way to your clit, rubbing it gently in circles.

you grind against his hand, desperate for more. sunghoon only continues to keep slowly rubbing your clit, not giving you the full attention your body craves.

“p-please…” you whispered, the word barely making it past the lump in your throat.

“please what?” he asked quietly.

"your f-fingers.. nghh.. please!" you cry out. sunghoon smirks at the way you beg for it.

"since my bunny's been so good, she deserves it." he whispers loud enough that you can hear it.

his fingers go down to your hole, which was already oozing out the slick and wetness that has been building up for the past 30 minutes since he's been in your room.

he slowly circles over your hole before pushing a finger in slowly. you let out a pleasured moan at the feeling, your body immediately feeling the heat of his fingers.

he starts thrusting his finger in and out slowly, the wetness coating his finger as you moan at the sensation. you continue to grind forward, still desperate for more.

"you know if you want more, you're gonna have to earn for it." he murmured before tapping his cock against your thigh, signaling for what you should do.

you look up at him nervously before looking down at his huge cock, the precum already leaking out. before your hand can fully reach out, sunghoon grabs your wrist with his free hand before spitting onto your palm.

with his spit all over your palm, you sit up slightly as your hand spreads the wetness of his saliva all over his cock before slowly rubbing his tip against the palm of your hand.

sunghoon hisses at the feeling, "fuck, keep doing that baby," he groans before adding a second finger into your cunt, earning a loud moan from you.

and before you both know it, you're both now like two animals in heat desperate to get each other off. you stroke sunghoon's cock at a medium pace, taking in whatever you can as sunghoon keeps fingering you at a faster speed.

"ngh.. shit if you keep doing that.. 'm gonna cum," sunghoon groans loudly.

you bite your lip as you continue to stroke his cock faster, a desperate attempt to match the speed in which he was fingering you at. he was relentless, abusing your little cunt like it didn't matter.

"feel's weird.. i think 'm gonna pee! s-sunghoon stop!" you whimper loudly, the heat in your stomach continuing to boil up. "then do it baby. do it all over me." he demands.

and with that, you cum. more like you squirt, all over him. your legs tremble as your orgasm hits you, your grip on sunghoons cock getting slightly loose but just enough for him to reach his climax and start shooting his cum all over your stomach.

"fuck.. was that your first time squirting bunny?" he questions, looking at the sight beneath him in awe before looking back up at you, seeing you nod your head in fluster.

gosh, you're really going to kill him.

he can't wait to ruin you.

without hesitation, sunghoon pushes you back down again, making you flat against your bed as he spreads open your legs again.

you look down and see that he's still hard. fuck, his sex drive is insane.

he grabs the base of his cock, positioning himself perfectly as he starts to slide his cock up and down your wet cunt, holding onto your thighs for support.

you let out a moan, your cunt still sensitive from your previous orgasm but the pleasure overtakes the sensitivity. he continues to grind against your cunt until he pulls back, slapping his cock against your clit.

"'s not gonna fit.. way too big.." you bite your lip in nervousness as sunghoon lets out a smug smile.

"shhh, daddy'll make it fit. just hold on f'me my little girl," he mumbles into your ear.

he slowly starts pushing the tip in, the pain immediately hitting you, "'s so painful.. daddy it hurts.." you whimper out in pain as your eyes begin to tear up, the nickname coming from your lips too naturally.

sunghoon could cum from your words just now, but it only encourages him to keep going as he continues to push himself in further, filling you up nice and slowly.

sunghoon leans down to kiss you as you whine against his lips, as he finally pushes himself all the way in, having you fully filled up with him now, "fuck, you're so tight. daddy's gonna fuck your little cunnie so good."

you squirm as he starts thrusting into your cunt, his cock ramming in and out you as the sound of your wet cunt and his sloppy thrusts echo throughout your room.

you're so sure that you're moaning loud enough that it could even wake up your dad, but you didn't even care anymore as the pain quickly turned into pleasure as sunghoon was balls deep in you.

"fuuuuck... so good, your pussy is clenching around me. you really love daddy's cock hm?" he almost mocks you but sees as you desperately nod your head.

"yes.. yes! fuck yes 'm loving daddy's cock so much! want m-more!" you whine loudly, drool spilling out of your lips as pleasure overtakes you.

sunghoon continues to quicken his pace, ramming his cock in and out you so deeply as he brings his hand to your stomach and presses down. you could've sworn you almost saw stars at that.

"d-daddy fuck..! nghh... 'm gonna cum.." you whimper.

sunghoon bites your earlobe, "mm, cum for daddy. let it all out," he whispers into your ear.

and with that, you come undone. you grip onto the bedsheets tightly and your legs shake violently as you cum all over his cock, your vision turning white for a few seconds as the orgasm hits you hard.

sunghoon chuckles at how hard you came, slowing down his thrusts to let you ride out your orgasm. your grip slowly loosens on your bedsheets as your breathing starts to slow down and become more calm.

suddenly, sunghoon starts to continue his relentless thrusting,"i still haven't came yet, gonna abuse and use up your lil cunnie." he groans as he quickens up his pace.

the dirty wet sounds of your intimate areas meeting each other fill up the room. one of his hands hold onto your hip as the other goes up to your breast, grabbing and squeezing it as he watches the way they bounce with each thrust.

sunghoon can finally feel the heat in his stomach brew up, "shit, 'm gonna cum inside this pussy," he groans before he quickly grabs his phone and starts to record.

his angles it just right to show how his cock thrusts into you just right while also showing how perfectly your breasts bounce with your mouth open from the pleasure.

sunghoon groans loudly as his orgasm hits him, his cum immediately filling you up. gosh you feel so thick and filled. sunghoon brings down the camera, showing a close up of his cock inside you before pulling out.

as he pulls out, he records how his cum mixed with your wetness oozes out of your hole. he smirks at the sight, bringing the camera up to show the cum over your stomach and then your dazed face as you breathe heavily.

he grabs your face making you look at the camera, "who does this little cunt belong to?" he demands an answer, placing a gentle slap to your clit as you let out a yelp before answering, "y-yours!"

he smirks before rubbing your thigh to soothe out the pain, "yeah? you belong to daddy now. i'll treat you so good, my little girl."

he ends the video before putting his phone back into his pocket. he falls onto the side next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he rubs your back gently.

your face stayed buried against his chest, his presence warm and grounding in a way you didn’t realize you needed until now.

“you did so well my bunny,” he murmured softly after a moment. “i’m so proud of you.”

his voice was quiet, almost like he didn’t want to break the moment. you held onto him a little tighter at his words, your breath uneven.

“don’t leave me… please,” you said, barely above a whisper.

he went still for a second, then shifted just enough to look down at you.

his hand came up to gently hold your cheek, thumb brushing lightly as he steadied you.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.

and after a pause, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a silent reassurance.

you stayed there for a moment longer, holding onto him like you were afraid the feeling might disappear if you let go too soon.

jake: dude shes fucking gorgeous jay: holy shit, there's no way thats his daughter. im so jealous. heeseung: I wanna use her up too. Not fair Sunghoon.

sunghoon smirks at his friends messages. of course he had to send it to the groupchat (which obviously did not include your dad).

the video of which his cum dripped out of your pussy and where you said that you belonged to sunghoon was enough to drive him and all of his friends crazy (and get all of them hard).

sunghoon: she's totally innocent too, her pussy was so tight. jay: sounds like heaven. jake: this isnt fair howd you find this angel wtf?? heeseung: Lets pass her around, she'd probably enjoy that. jay: we can tell. jake: shes definitely secretly a slut who likes older men. jake: cmon hoon.

sunghoon chuckles at his phone.

sunghoon: maybe.

@evanificais do not steal or recreate.

authors note: hii :3 first ever fic, hope y'all enjoy. not proofread cus i physically cannot read my own work but i hope theres not too many mistakes. if i missed any warnings pls lmk!

never did you see yourself experiencing a love like in the movies. the red string of fate, the twin flame, the soulmate – all concepts that were fictional to you. you got really close, once, and was humbled so badly that you had sworn off of love. you wouldn’t search for it, or even try for it ever again. 

but that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? it happens when you’re least expecting it. you don’t find it, it finds you, and pulls you under so quickly that there’s no time to resist. to you, heartbroken and hopeless you, this took form in the sudden presence of the boy called jake. 

jake had always been around – he’s a friend of your ex (he who shall not be named). not a close one, but one you still saw often at hangouts and parties. that one smiley, golden retriever boy with the bleached blonde hair. 

he was always such a gentleman with you, at least in the fleeting interactions before your ex would interrupt or steal you away. you still adored those brief moments with jake, and if your ex wasn’t so cutthroat about being the only man in your life, you might’ve found a good friend in jake. 

none of it could’ve prepared you for what you ended up finding in him instead. 

love. real love, pure love. a love that didn’t keep you waiting, that didn’t have you terrified of it vanishing. a love that was gentle and sweet and understanding. a love that you know you didn’t deserve, and yet a love he fought tooth and nail to give you. 

after your messy and very public breakup, jake swooped in like some type of guardian angel. one harmless text of him checking up on you later, and you found yourself attached to his side quicker than you could start missing your ex. 

he comforted you through it – held you in his arms when you were ugly crying, cooked meals for you when you couldn’t take care of yourself – and all he asked for in return was to continue being by your side. 

once you finally mustered the strength to leave bed after a week of rotting, jake was there to help clean your room of any traces of your ex. he then chucked all of his belongings in his car to drive to the dump, just so you didn’t have to be around the stuff any longer.

jake is a million dollar man. a once in a lifetime man. he is every bit the man that you wanted your ex to be, and better. because jake has none of his flaws. in fact, you’re not sure if jake even has any. he’s so perfect for you, and somehow, he feels like deja vu. 

you’re convinced he was a lover in your past life, someone you’ve reincarnated with to find in every reality, with how familiar he seems, how in tune he is with your needs. 

you’re so helplessly in love, and you know that someway, somehow – he loves you even more. 

—

not a day goes by where jake doesn’t think about marrying you. 

you don’t even have to do anything and already, he’s picturing you walking down the aisle, your belly swell with his child. patience, though. he needs enough for both of you. he’s been very intentional in restraining from going that far with you yet. he’s not prepared enough. but he will be, soon. 

he smiles to himself as he heart-reacts to your cute little ‘take your time handsome :)’ text, in reply to him apologising for being a few minutes late to come over. he had to wait for the dryer load to be done so he could wear his grey sweatpants – jay’s sweatpants. 

every time he wears these, without fail, you go crazy over him. the first time was a carelessly stupid mistake – you’d called him in tears, and in his rush to drive to your place, he’d thrown on the first pair of pants he could find, which he hadn’t realised was from the pile of your ex’s clothes.

by some luck, or perhaps by design, it had worked in his favour. your tears had quickly dried when you saw him walk in with those loose sweats hanging from his hips, and not long after you’d had him pressed to the couch, your lips devouring his. it was the first time you kissed him since the breakup, and it would’ve been your first time having sex since, if only jake hadn’t stopped things before they could escalate. 

you’re too affectionate for your own good. it will get your heart broken one day, and it did. but you never have to worry about that happening again – not after you handed it over to jake’s hands. 

jay may not be in your life anymore, but bits and pieces of him never really left. you don’t even realise it, but it’s why you fell for jake so hard and fast in the first place. 

jake pockets his phone into jay’s sweats. he throws a hoodie over his shirt – also jay’s – before spritzing on a layer of jay’s favourite cologne, then popping a stick of jay’s favourite gum in his mouth. referencing the polaroid taped to his mirror, jake styles his hair, just like jay’s. you first met him when he had the bleached hair, but once he’d heard the news of your breakup, he didn’t think twice about dyeing it back to black. 

jake slides the insoles into his sneakers before putting them on, matching jay’s height as he stands up. he clips on the watch around his wrist from the same brand as jay’s. 

jake gives himself a once over in the mirror, and clears his throat for one last practice before he leaves. his reflection talks like jay, walks like jay, perfectly mimics his loud laugh and his shy mannerisms. only when jake doesn’t recognise himself anymore does he feel satisfied, and texts you a quick ‘On my way cutie <3’ before grabbing his car keys from the pocket of jay’s jeans he wore yesterday on the floor. 

jake hadn’t thrown out a single possession of your ex’s like he promised you. that day he drove them to the ‘dump’ to end up in a heap of landfill, he’d actually just taken them right back to his house, where he’s since been studying them harder than his college finals. 

every handmade gift that he can recreate better, every love letter that he can plagiarise and whisper into your ear. he’s even tried learning some of jay’s homemade recipes, and bought a guitar to practise jay’s scribbled songs. he wears some clothing from jay’s closet each time he sees you. he analyses photos to pose like jay, videos to act like jay – every second of every day in his head is just jay, jay, jay. jake thinks about him so much you’d think he was in love. 

no part of jay is unknown to him. he wants to know exactly the type of man you fell so deeply in love with, so he can do it all better.

what you don’t know is that jake wanted you first, from afar – from passing by you in the halls and sitting behind you in class. all before jay just swooped in and bagged you like nothing. 

you don’t even remember jake’s existence before you met him as jay’s friend. he wasn’t memorable enough, not worthy enough. so, he had to become the man you wanted, the man your broken heart longed for: jay. 

and it’s worked better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

yesterday, while he was over, you’d shyly (adorably) admitted to jake that you used to journal. you lost motivation to keep up with it after he who shall not be named.

“you should start again,” he had suggested to you, rubbing your arm as he held you under his shoulder. “it’s a healthy hobby to have.”

“i only ever wrote when i was upset.” you looked up at him with eyes full of hearts. “i don’t need it anymore.”

so today, he has an objective. 

jake had treated you to a date night-in. he’d cooked a big, hearty meal using one of jay’s recipes – including all the fucking expensive exotic ingredients – then popped a fine wine to share over a binge of the james bond movies. jay loves them, and jay complained about how you’d fall asleep whenever he put them on.

drinking wine and watching a movie that bores you, jake hadn’t expected you to last long. and yet you’d hardly done either with your tongue down his throat and your hand palming the front of his pants. 

jake had excused himself to the bathroom before he could embarrass himself, furiously jerked off into your toilet, and by the time he returned you were knocked out on the couch. fast asleep, just like he’d planned. 

your sweet, unassuming boyfriend had tip-toed into your bedroom and gone straight for the bottom drawer of your dresser, hitting the jackpot. 

diaries. a whole stack of them. licking his lips, he pulled out his phone and opened up the first one, pressing record as he began to flip through each page. 

all of your thoughts from your relationship with jay, perfectly preserved in writing. every time he upset you, hurt you, every time you fell in and out of love. 

he moved quickly – since there’s no telling if you’d miss him in your slumber and wake up to realise he’s gone – so he could only skim the words as he flicked through, feeling his chest stir and pants tighten with the excitement. he’ll be watching the video back later anyways, when he’s alone and has the time to read it like his own personal bible. 

as much as it kills him inside to turn you down each time you’re both hot and bothered, practically fucking already through your clothes, the sole reason jake has been waiting for is this. he needed to know exactly how jay did it, how you liked it, how he kept you with him for so long. he needs to know the right steps to ensure you’ll never want to leave him. and now he’s got it, in between the pages he flicks with his finger, every word captured on camera. fucking jackpot.

“jakey?”

the diary nearly falls from his hands as you call out to him. it fumbles in his grip, and he holds onto it before it can clatter on the wooden dresser. blowing out a breath to calm himself, he responds right away, “yeah baby?” 

“where’d y’go?” you drawl back, audibly still half-asleep. 

“just getting the bed ready,” he continues to flip through the diary under the sound of his voice, recording the last few pages he needs. “i’ll carry you in, okay?” 

“m’kay..”

jake waits for minutes, putting the diary back and periodically inching the dresser shut, right until it quietly sets back into place. like he was never there. 

yeesh, not even james bond could understand the panic that just coursed through jake’s body. he did it though – he fucking did it! he’s gonna make you his for life. 

—

two pages in and jake thinks he’s scarred for life. 

he already knew you were easy.. he can tell how desperately you’ve wanted it since you’ve started dating, and he could tell throughout your entire relationship with jay. 

not just from jay’s own word of mouth – loudly bragging about how you were always down, how he ‘didn’t know how to handle all that’ – but from jake’s own ears too. he’d walk past locked bathrooms at house parties, recognising the pitch of your moans in a heartbeat through the thin walls. they’d be playing video games over discord calls, and your voice in the background of jay’s mic would disappear, his breaths growing suspiciously heavier.

being around it happening implicitly is one thing, filling the blanks with his imagination as he fucks his fist is another – but this… this is far worse. you really leave nothing to interpretation. 

you slept with jay on the first date – or rather he fucked you, so good and thoroughly that you had no choice but to keep coming back, whether or not he wanted to put a label on it you didn’t care. 

here jake is, playing the long game like a fucking idiot, when you were drunk off jay from one sip. 

he’s helpless to do anything but keep reading though, turning to the next page while it turns his guts inside out. like a car crash he just can’t look away. he needs this knowledge – he needs to know precisely how you want him inside you, so you have no choice but to believe he’s made for you. 

he memorises the words jay used to talk you through it. the details of how his hands and his mouth worked at you expertly. the nitty gritty of how he took you from behind and plowed you. how he was so rough you couldn’t do anything but scream and take it, and yet you loved every second of it. you loved him, and you would’ve let him do whatever he wanted if it meant he loved you back. 

hm. 

jake peaks under the blanket, eyes falling on the tent in his (jay’s) sweats. there’s even a few dark spots on the grey fabric. picking his phone back up, he starts reading where he left off, sighing in relief as he grips himself through the pants. 

who would’ve thought.. reading everything jay did to your body and envisioning it in his head, would have jake this hard. 

shameless, he pulls the waistband down to grip himself properly, wincing as he gathers pre on his palm before coating it over his length. jake whimpers, wrapping his fingers tight and jerking his wrist fast, forcing his eyes open so he can keep reading. 

that time when jay forced your legs apart even though you were overstimulated, how he filled your pussy to the brim with cum and ate it out, spat it in your mouth then fucked it down your throat–

jake moans pathetically as he coats his hoodie in a sudden spurt of cum. his hips kick weakly into his fist, his eyes fluttering shut as he still attempts to read what happened after jay plugged your mouth with his dick. 

with his clean hand, he checks the timestamp on the video, and groans when he sees he’s not even halfway through. he hasn’t even reached the first rough patch (of many) in the relationship, where there’s sure to be copious hate and make-up sex stories awaiting him. 

he’s in for a long night with his right hand. 

—

“jake, what are you thinking?”

jake licks his lips, tasting your spit coating them, as he buys himself time to reply. his hands run up and down your sides, squeezing the curves in his fingers as his length states his exact thoughts where it twitches below you. you chuckle as you feel it, running a hand through his tousled hair, the light scratch of your nails enough to have him whimpering softly. 

honest answer? jake’s thinking about how he spent the last 24 hours reading your diary front to back, how he memorised every single time jay fucked you throughout your entire relationship, how he tired himself out by jerking off to it all night and into the early morning. 

he’d surprised you today by coming over unannounced, capturing your lips in a kiss before you could even greet him as you opened your front door, walking you back into the couch where you’ve been buried in each other’s mouths since. 

somewhere during your needy gropes and whiney kisses, you’d taken the initiative to climb into his lap – and where he’d usually stop things before they could go further, jake had let you rut against him. desperately grinding against the sensitive heat of each other’s bodies, months worth of bottled tension finally let loose. 

“jakey,” you cooed, ripping him from his thoughts as you slowly rolled your hips against him. “what’s up?”

he huffs a laugh. “me.” you roll your eyes, quickly distracted by how his hands guide you to grind harder, earning a shudder from the boy below you. “nah, i’m just.. i still can’t believe you’re real.”

and he means that more than you could know. he’s spent years yearning over the view of the back of your head or your blurry figure in the distance, and now you’re on top of him, when all it took was fitting the mold your ex left behind. in every way.

his breath hitches, length giving another harsh pulse beneath you, and you throw your head back with a frustrated groan, “urgh, i’ve been waiting so long, jake.”

“i know,” he stifles another whimper, trying to keep a cool, collected composure as he praises you. just how you like. “you’ve done so well, baby, i’m proud of you–”

“just let me sit on your dick already!”

jake stammers, completely taken aback. he mentally cross-references how you’re behaving with him right now to how you wrote about jay. you enjoyed intimacy best when jay guided and talked you through it. you liked being manhandled, you loved being fucked, and yet you’re.. bossing jake around? 

this isn’t going how it should be…

“i want you in me, jake.” you utter, breath fanning his lips as your hand wedges between where your bodies connect. “i wanna ride you.” his eyes flutter shut at the feel of your palm gripping his length, while you grind yourself against your own hand, too worked up for how slow he’s taking this. “let me?” 

shit, he almost did. he lost himself for a moment there – slipping back into the fumbling, awkward mess he is and not the stone-faced dominant man that he’s supposed to be right now. he needs to be jay for you. 

“you think you can tell me what to do?” he sneers, grabbing your ass with a slap, hard enough to make you gasp. he pushes down the swell in his chest that feels bad for being rough. “that’s no way to get what you want, baby.”

“jake–” you squeak out, gasping again louder as he pushes you down by the hips, hard enough for his length to dig up into you with a roll of his hips. your eyes widen, from his size and from this new side of him. “i– i’m sorry..”

he hums, unconvinced. “you use your manners when you ask.” jake commands, not even recognising himself from this foreign tone of voice. he’d bet he sounds exactly like your ex with how your body turns to putty under his hands. 

you gulp, your eyes glazing over with something he doesn’t recognise. submission, must be. “please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

jake pokes his cheek with his tongue – something jay did that drove you crazy – and watches the effect it has on you in real time as your hips grind on him once more, needy for some damn relief. jake’s grip on you tightens enough to make you pause, and he tuts at you in disapproval. 

“please.” you almost whine. “jake, please, i’ve needed you so bad. please let me ride you, i’ll be so good.”

the sweetest girl he’s ever known, reduced to a begging mess because of how perfectly he embodied your ex. he almost loses it again, almost gives in and lets you ride him until he sees stars, but jake locks back in with a reminder: what would jay do?

he runs through each verse of your diary he knows by heart at this point, and after coming to a conclusion of how jay would proceed – jake chuckles in your face. 

“nah.”

within a blink jake’s got you off his lap and on your back, pressed into the couch by his chest on yours. 

“we’re doing this my way,” he talks you through it as he tugs down your pants, unsurprised to find an absence of underwear. easy. “what you need, baby, is to get fucked.” you whine as his teeth nip at your neck, his tongue licking the sting. “then maybe, if you’re so good, you can ask again.” he almost cries out as his fingers find your pussy, wetness coating the tips. “nicely this time.”

“ah, jake–” you moan loudly for him, two fingers running through your folds before settling at your clit, rubbing digit eights over the throbbing bundle of nerves. 

“you’ve been waiting so long?” jake scoffs, quick fingers circling your clit as you writhe beneath him. “baby. you have no idea about me.”

“a-ah! i’m sorry!” you babble, to jake’s confusion. your big, glossy eyes find his, your puffy lips from all his kisses trembling. ah, you must be deep in it. this is seriously too easy. you’ll really get off on being talked down on by jake, just because your ex did it first?

not even a few seconds later you’re clamping your thighs around his wrist, mouth dropping open in a moan, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re cumming already. that took.. nothing. he makes sure to rub you through it, and even a little after until you’re pushing at his chest, whining that it’s too much. 

jake’s dick throbs in his sweats, the grey sweats, diary passages flashing in his mind of you writing about jay getting you off. how you’d daydream about the sex for weeks after because of how well he worked your body, how obsessed you were with it. jake almost cums in his fucking pants just thinking about how well he’s doing in mimicking your ex – and you’re drunk off it, you don’t even realise that you’re about to get fucked by the exact same man. 

jake rips off both layers restraining him almost painfully at this point, tugging them down only to his knees before he’s back on top of you, lining his cock up with your sopping pussy. you just whimper, too far gone to even beg for him anymore. 

with one thrust, jake slides all the way in, the tight fit airing out every thought in his brain. you try to hold onto him with shaky fingers, and he softly shushes each of your whimpers, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. trying to comforting you, even as you’re gripping him like a fucking vice. everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s sacrificed his entire identity for, gripping him. wet and hot and perfect and so fucking worth it.

he’s able to hold back on cumming solely because of all the recent jerking off to your diary. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, forcing himself to speak, to keep you under his spell. 

“you feel so perfect, baby,” he kisses your forehead, and you stare up at him with that dazed look still in your eyes. “i’m gonna fucking wreck you.”

jake snaps his hips, roughly pushing every inch in, and you break off into helpless little moans as he starts to fuck you properly. he bites his lower lip, keeping all of his own in so he can stay the picture of the cold, dominant man you want so badly. he only lets you adjust to the fit while he’s fucking you, your pussy fluttering around him. it must sting, it must be pain mixed with pleasure right now, and yet you’re taking all of him without protest. because that’s just how you like it. 

once you’ve adjusted enough to stop sucking him in, jake tilts his hips to angle his thrusts up, hitting that sweet spot that has you whimpering his name. 

“yeah, baby?” he almost taunts you as he pushes himself all the way in, soiling his balls in your sticky arousal as he grinds forward, tip nudging your cervix. jake laughs through his sudden rage of jay having this under him everyday and still breaking your heart. that’d be the one difference between them – jake won’t be that stupid. “feels good huh?”

you can’t even get his name out, let alone words anymore, as you lay limply beneath him, heat blooming in your gut as he rubs his length along your g-spot. your eyes roll back into your head, lips stretching in a silent moan, and jake cusses as he realises what’s happening before you clamp down on him, too tight for him to pull back. 

you cum again, overcome with twitches through your body and around his cock, and jake just watches in bewilderment. of course you wouldn’t lie in your own diary, but.. you really are too easy. you’ve popped off twice and he’s barely gotten started. 

jake runs his hands over your body as he waits for you to come back to him, sliding his palms under your shirt to pinch and twist at your nipples. you whimper, so sensitive. 

“c’mere, baby, you’re doing so well,” he pulls your chin into a sweet kiss, right before he slides back into jay. “you’re gonna take more for me. right?”

you nod. pliant, fucked out, so so perfect.

jake smiles, thinking of where to even start with the things he wants to do to you, before remembering that one story in your diary he kept coming back to, the one he came hard to like none other. the one you said was the moment you knew you’d fallen in love with jay. 

he wants to see it happen for himself. 

jake pins your thighs down to the couch cushions, pries your legs apart, and fucks into you like a madman, like a dog in heat. he’s chasing nothing but his own release as he pounds you into the couch, and he can’t help the soft whimpers he lets slip as the aftershocks of your orgasms has your pussy fluttering around him. 

jake’s vision whites out, his ears ring, as pure bliss floods his body, his hips kicking rapidly until he’s spilling out inside of you. he’s so possessed he doesn’t even stop fucking you, not fully registering that he came with how in his head he is. what would jay sound like? how hard would jay go?

“ja..” you try to say his name, trailing off halfway. 

he opens his eyes – not even realising they closed – as he looks down at you. you’re even more gone than he is. do you even realise that it’s not your ex fucking you stupid right now? 

with a perfect face like that under him, wrapped around him, how is he ever meant to stop?

jake hisses as he pulls out abruptly, leaving a quick kiss on your lips before he crawls down, latching his mouth around your pussy. you scream for him, shoved way past overstim as his tongue ravages you, the mixture of cum gushing onto jake’s tongue. 

“j-ja–! ja– ja–!” you stutter, too weak to even get his full name out. jake’s groan rumbles on your clit, his cock leaking into the cushions as it hardens again, realising that his stuttered name sounds like you’re saying jay. 

j-jay! jay– jay–!

he’s done it. he succeeded, he won. he became jay. 

“keep on saying that, baby,” jake manages to huff out while he laps at you feverishly, the taste of your shared love lighting up his tongue as he eats the cum out of you – right until you’re letting loose for a third time, moaning that broken version of his name through it and driving him fucking insane. jake lets it all flood into his mouth, sucking his lips until he’s releasing your clit with a wet pop. 

he lifts himself up again until he’s at level with you, parting your lips with his thumb and waiting until you meet his eyes before he spits the mess of fluids directly onto your tongue. your lashes flutter, and he can see it as you sink even further into that floaty state of mind. 

“hold it.” he tells you, rising on his knees and shuffling forward, holding his cock by the base as he directs it to your mouth. “open, baby.”

you do as told, of course you do, letting jake bury himself to the hilt in the wet heat of your mouth. the underside glides over the cum still warm on your tongue, and jake shudders above you, feeling faint in the head from just how fucking hard he is for you. 

“you gotta return the favour, yeah?” he only hopes you don’t notice how breathless he is, how he’s just as much of a mess as you are. if he wasn’t putting on this whole jay persona, he’d be a fucking embarrasing bitch for you right now. 

you nod, and jake pulls out before pushing back in, tip bumping the back of your throat. he moans unabashedly, fucking the hollow of your mouth, feeling how you constrict around him. how you gag yet make no move to push him off. easy. perfect. just like jay made you, just like you are for jake to have now. 

jake snaps his hips ruthlessly until his abs tighten, his cock pulsing until he’s shooting out down your throat. he stays shaking above you, sweating all over, until slowly pulling himself out. he catches your throat bob in a gulp, and he thinks he’s ready for yet another round. 

before he can even put a thought to it though, a sudden sob from you has his entire being seizing in panic. tears burst out from your eyes, streaming down your face as you try to cover it with your hands. 

“oh no, no, hey,” jake pulls you into a hug, what jay would do the last thought in his mind as he instantly worries he took it too far. he reminded you too much of him, you caught on to his act. “baby, did i hurt you? did i–”

“no, jake,” you cut in, and he pulls back, his brows pinched in confusion. “you didn’t do anything. it all felt really good, you were really good, i just–” another sob chokes up your words, and he just shushes you as he cradles you to his chest, relief flooding all the worry in his system.

what you don’t tell him, what you chose to keep to yourself, is that you thought of jay. when jake was eating you out, and you’re sure you must’ve even said your ex’s name a few times as you came, too deep in subspace to realise what you were doing. to realise that it was your boyfriend and not the last man who’d put you there.

everything jake was doing and saying, it just.. reminded you of him, so much. you don’t miss him, you don’t still love him. it’s just hard for your body to unlearn the ways that someone else has already hammered into them. 

“i’m so sorry,” you sniffle. “jake.” you tack on, as if trying to remind your body who you’re with. 

“no, no.” he shushes you, stroking your hair. “it’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

he really is too perfect for you. you don’t know how you’ll ever deserve someone as pure as him. 

“i love you.” 

jake pulls back, eyes flitting around your face as if searching for any sign that you’re not serious. “wh– you.. you mean that?”

“i do.” you smile, and he mirrors you, lips stretching wide. “i love you, jakey.”

it’s the first time he’s heard it from you. it might be too early, but you don’t care. nothing’s too early if it’s all fate, all meant to be. 

“i love you more.” he rocks you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “more than you could ever know.”

your body stiffens as you’re suddenly transported back in time – living out a once fond memory with jay, how he’d said those exact words back after you’d said you love him first. 

jay– no, jake, just holds you tighter, snapping you clean out of your silly rumination. you curl into your boyfriend, forcing your ex out of your mind where he had no business hanging around.

jake wasn’t him, he’d never be him. what were you tripping for?

Meanwhile, Sunghoon started dating one of your close friends, Sooha. She was sweet, bubbly, and had always gotten along with him during group hangouts. Seeing them together at first stung like hell, but you told yourself it was for the best. Everyone moved on. Or so it seemed.

The problem was the friend group. You all ran in the same circle, mutual friends from the industry, trainees, dancers, and staff who loved throwing parties, dinners, and weekend getaways. No matter how hard you tried, you and Sunghoon kept crossing paths. At first, it was awkward. Polite nods, short conversations, avoiding eye contact. But the tension never died. It only grew.

Every time you saw him, memories flooded back. The way his large hands used to grip your hips. How he’d pin you against the wall and kiss you until your knees buckled. The low groan he made when he was deep inside you. The way he’d look at you with those sharp, dark eyes right before he made you come. And you knew he felt it too. You’d catch him staring at your legs in short dresses, or the curve of your ass when you bent over. His jaw would tighten, and he’d quickly look away, especially when Heeseung was right beside you with an arm around your waist, or when Sooha was laughing and clinging to his arm.

The air between you two was always thick, charged and dangerous.

It started small. A house party six months after you and Heeseung became official. Sunghoon and Sooha had been dating for three months. The music was loud, drinks were flowing. You were in a tight dress that hugged every curve. Sunghoon couldn’t stop glancing at you. When you passed each other in the narrow hallway on the way to the bathroom, your bodies brushed. Just shoulders and hips, but it was enough. You felt him, hard, warm, familiar, and your breath hitched. He froze for half a second, eyes darkening, before muttering a low “sorry” and continuing. That night you rode Heeseung like you were possessed, but it was Sunghoon’s face you saw when you came.

Another time, at a beach trip with the whole group. Sunghoon was shirtless in the water, water dripping down his toned abs and sharp v-line. You were in a bikini. Heeseung was building sandcastles with friends, Sooha was napping under an umbrella. You and Sunghoon ended up wading in the shallows at the same time. The waves pushed you closer. His hand accidentally grazed your waist as he steadied you. Electricity shot through your body. Your nipples hardened instantly under the thin fabric. You saw the bulge in his swim trunks grow. Neither of you said a word. You both swam away, hearts pounding, bodies aching.

These encounters kept happening. Birthday parties, award after-parties, late-night karaoke sessions. Every time, you’d leave the function wet and throbbing, panties soaked, thighs clenched. You knew he was going home hard too, probably fucking Sooha while thinking about you. The guilt was there, but the desire was stronger.

One particular night, it became unbearable.

It was a small, intimate gathering at a friend’s luxurious apartment. Only twelve people. Heeseung was there, sitting beside you on the couch, his hand resting possessively on your thigh. Sunghoon and Sooha were across the room. The lights were dim, music soft. Someone suggested truth or dare. Stupid idea. When it was your turn, someone dared you to sit on Sunghoon’s lap for three minutes. The room erupted in laughter. “For old times’ sake!” they joked, not knowing how deep the cut went.

You hesitated. Heeseung chuckled and nodded, thinking it was harmless. Sooha looked a little uncomfortable but played along. Sunghoon’s eyes met yours, dark, warning, hungry.

You sat on his lap.

The moment your ass settled over his crotch, you felt him. He was already half-hard. As the timer started, his hands rested lightly on your hips to “steady” you. His cock twitched beneath you, growing thicker and harder against the thin fabric of your dress and his pants. You were wearing nothing but a tiny thong underneath. You could feel every inch of him pressing right against your clothed cunt. Heat flooded you. Your clit throbbed. You shifted slightly, “accidentally,” grinding down on him. He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening on your hips. His cock was fully hard now, thick and long, the same shape you remembered so well. You were soaking through your thong, your juices starting to wet the front of his pants.

Three minutes felt like eternity. Torture. Bliss. When the timer ended, you stood up on shaky legs. Sunghoon’s eyes were nearly black. A small wet spot was visible on his thigh where you’d been sitting. He quickly adjusted himself. You excused yourself to the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned against it, breathing hard, your pussy was dripping, you wanted to cum so badly it hurt.

That night, after the party, Heeseung fucked you in his car before you even got home. You came twice, but it wasn’t enough.

Two days later, you were alone in your apartment. Heeseung was away for a schedule. The memory of sitting on Sunghoon’s lap had been haunting you. You took a long shower, trying to calm down, but your body was on fire. After drying off, you opened your drawer and found it, the pale pink satin slip Sunghoon used to love.

It was short, silky, with thin straps and a deep neckline. The hem barely covered your ass. There was a high slit on the left side that went almost to your hip. He used to push the strap down, suck on your tits while fucking you in it. You hadn’t worn it since the breakup.

Tonight, you slipped it on. The fabric felt cool and luxurious against your heated skin. Your nipples were already stiff, poking obviously through the thin material. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, dim lights on. The slip clung to your body, the hem riding up to show the bottom curve of your ass.

You climbed onto your bed, heart racing with guilt and excitement. This was wrong. So fucking wrong. Heeseung was your boyfriend. Sunghoon was his best friend. He was dating Sooha, your friend. But you couldn’t stop.

You lay back against the pillows, knees bent, legs slightly spread. Your hand slowly trailed up your body. You cupped one breast through the satin, squeezing it gently. A soft moan escaped your lips. You imagined Sunghoon’s large hand instead, bigger, rougher. You pinched your nipple, rolling it between your fingers the way he used to. The sensation shot straight to your core.

“Oh god…” you whispered.

Your other hand slid down, pushing the hem of the slip higher. The slit on the side made it easy. You parted your thighs wider, exposing your bare, dripping pussy. You were soaked. Your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, and your hips jerked.

In your mind, it was Sunghoon touching you.

You pictured his sharp jaw, his intense eyes looking down at you. The way he’d smirk when he felt how wet you were for him. You imagined his long fingers replacing yours, two thick digits sliding inside you while his thumb circled your clit. You pushed two fingers into your tight heat, moaning louder. The slick sounds filled the room as you pumped them slowly, curling them just right.

Your other hand kept playing with your tits, pulling the strap down so one breast spilled out. You pinched and tugged your nipple harder, imagining Sunghoon’s mouth on it, sucking, biting, licking.

“Sunghoon…” you breathed, even though you knew you shouldn’t say his name. It felt too good. You added a third finger, stretching yourself, fucking yourself deeper. Your hips rolled, grinding against your hand. The satin slip bunched around your waist now. You were completely exposed, legs spread obscenely, fingers plunging in and out of your creamy pussy.

You thought about that night on his lap. How hard he’d been. How big he felt. You imagined pulling his cock out right there in front of everyone, sinking down on it, riding him while the party continued. You imagined him bending you over in the bathroom after, slamming into you from behind, hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while he filled you up.

Your fingers moved faster. The heel of your palm rubbed your clit with every thrust. Your other hand switched to your other breast, squeezing hard, twisting the nipple. Pleasure built rapidly, hot and intense.

You were so close.

In your fantasy, Sunghoon was on top of you, thrusting deep, whispering how much he missed your tight pussy, how no one fucked him like you did. You imagined his hips snapping harder, his balls slapping against you, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside.

“Fuck—Sunghoon—yes—” you moaned, voice breaking.

Your orgasm crashed over you violently. Your back arched off the bed, thighs shaking. Your pussy clenched hard around your fingers, gushing wetly. You kept fingering yourself through it, drawing it out, riding every wave. Juices dripped down your ass onto the sheets. The slip was ruined with sweat and your arousal.

Even after you came, you kept your fingers inside, gently stroking as the aftershocks rolled through you. Your chest heaved. Guilt tried to creep in, but the pleasure was too strong, too addictive.

You knew you’d do this again. You couldn’t help it. The tension between you and Sunghoon was only getting worse. Sooner or later, something was going to break.

But for now, in the quiet of your room, wearing the slip he used to love, you let yourself drift in the fantasy of him, your ex, your boyfriend’s best friend, your friend’s boyfriend, fucking you senseless the way only he knew how.

—

A few weeks had passed since that night you spent alone in your apartment. The guilt had lingered for days afterward, especially when Heeseung came back from his schedule and kissed you so sweetly, completely unaware of whose name you’d moaned. But the ache between your legs never fully went away. Every time you saw Sunghoon in the group chat or caught a glimpse of him at a quick schedule overlap, the memory of his hardened cock pressing against you during truth or dare flooded back.

Tonight was another mutual friend’s birthday party, held at a spacious rooftop venue. The city lights glittered below like scattered diamonds, and the air was warm with late spring humidity. Fairy lights and soft neon accents bathed the space in a seductive glow. Music pulsed from hidden speakers, R&B and deep house tracks that made bodies move instinctively. About thirty people were there: dancers, idols, staff, and close industry friends. The drinks flowed freely, champagne, soju cocktails, whiskey on ice.

You arrived with Heeseung, dressed in a dangerously short, deep burgundy silk dress that clung to your curves and ended high on your thighs. The thin straps left your shoulders bare, and the low back dipped dangerously close to the curve of your ass. Heeseung had complimented you endlessly in the car, his hand sliding up your leg the whole ride. But the moment you stepped onto the rooftop, your eyes found Sunghoon across the crowd.

He looked devastating. Black button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbones and the beginning of his toned chest. Tailored black pants that hugged his long legs and narrow waist. His dark hair was styled messily, falling over his sharp eyes. Sooha wasn’t there, she’d texted the group earlier saying she felt sick and was staying home. Heeseung, oblivious as ever, spotted Jay and Jake almost immediately and gave your waist a quick squeeze. “I’ll be back in a bit, baby. They want to talk about the new choreography.” He kissed your cheek and disappeared into a group of guys near the bar.

You were alone, and Sunghoon noticed. The tension started immediately.

You felt his gaze like a physical touch the second you walked toward the open bar. When you turned to order a drink, a strong soju cocktail with peach, he was already watching you from a few meters away, leaning against a high table with a glass in his hand. His eyes dragged slowly down your body: lingering on the way the silk hugged your breasts, the exposed skin of your thighs, the way your hips swayed when you walked. You met his stare boldly, heart racing, and took a long sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat.

For the next hour, it was a game of stolen glances and near-misses.

You danced with some girlfriends on the makeshift dance floor, laughing as you moved your hips to the rhythm. But every time you turned or dipped low, you felt him. Sunghoon stayed on the edge of the crowd, talking to a few guys, but his attention never left you. You caught him staring at your ass when you bent slightly to adjust your heel. His jaw clenched. When you licked a drop of drink from your lower lip, his eyes darkened.

You grew tipsy. Then drunk. The cocktails hit harder than expected, warmth spreading through your veins, loosening your limbs, making your skin feel hypersensitive. Your cheeks flushed. Your pussy already felt warm and slick just from the weight of his gaze.

Heeseung was still deep in conversation with Jay and Jake on the far side of the rooftop, laughing loudly, safe, distracted.

Sunghoon finally moved closer during a slower song. You were at the bar getting another drink when he appeared beside you, ordering a whiskey. His arm brushed yours. The contact sent electricity shooting through your body.

“Looking dangerous tonight,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. His breath ghosted over your bare shoulder.

You turned your head, lips parted. “You’re one to talk.”

Your eyes locked. The air between you crackled. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the party disappeared. His gaze dropped to your mouth, then lower, watching your chest rise and fall. You pressed your thighs together, already feeling yourself getting wet.

The night blurred deliciously after that.

You danced again, this time with a mixed group. Sunghoon joined casually, keeping a safe distance at first. But the music grew slower, more sensual. Bodies moved closer. You swayed your hips, feeling the alcohol make you bold. Every time you turned, your eyes met his. He watched the way your dress rode up your thighs. You watched the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders when he moved.

Another song, you danced near him, shoulders brushed, then hips. He smelled like whiskey and that familiar cologne that used to drive you crazy, your head felt light, body hot.

Finally, the moment broke. A slow, heavy R&B track started playing. The kind that made people grind without shame. Most of the group had paired off or were lost in their own conversations. Heeseung was still occupied. Sunghoon stepped behind you without a word.

You didn’t resist. His tall frame pressed against your back as you both started swaying to the music. Your ass nestled perfectly against his crotch. Even through the layers of fabric, you could feel him, already semi-hard, thickening rapidly as you moved together.

“Fuck…” he breathed against your ear, so quietly it was almost lost in the music.

His hands settled on your hips at first, guiding you. The dance was filthy. You rolled your body against him, grinding slowly, deliberately. His cock grew fully hard, long and thick, pressing right between your ass cheeks through his pants. You bit your lip to hold back a moan.

The crowd around you was drunk and distracted. No one was paying attention to the exes dancing far too intimately. Sunghoon grew bolder.

One of his hands trailed down your side, fingers brushing the hem of your short dress. He leaned his head down, lips grazing the side of your neck. Not quite kissing, just hot breath and the faintest brush of his mouth. Your skin erupted in goosebumps.

“You’re driving me insane,” he whispered, voice rough with lust. “Been hard since I saw you in this dress.”

You pushed back against him harder, feeling his cock throb. “Then do something about it.”

His hand slipped lower. While your bodies continued swaying sensually to the slow beat, your ass grinding in slow circles against his erection, his fingers crept under the hem of your dress from behind. The rooftop was dimly lit here, and his tall frame mostly shielded you.

He found the edge of your tiny black lace panties. You were soaked. Dripping. His middle finger traced the wet fabric covering your pussy, pressing lightly against your swollen folds through the lace.

You gasped softly, knees weakening.

Sunghoon’s lips finally pressed against your neck, open-mouthed, hot and wet. He sucked gently, then harder, teeth grazing your skin as his finger pushed the lace aside. The pad of his long finger slid directly along your slick pussy lips, parting them, collecting your arousal.

“Shit, you’re drenched,” he groaned quietly against your neck, voice vibrating through you. “This pussy still gets this wet for me?”

You nodded frantically, biting back moans as you kept swaying with him, pretending it was just a dance. His cock was rock-hard, grinding slowly against your ass in time with the music.

He pushed one thick finger inside you without warning. Your walls clenched around it instantly, sucking him deeper. The wet sound was faint but filthy under the music. He added a second finger, stretching you, curling them perfectly against that spot he knew so well.

His mouth worked on your neck, kissing, licking, sucking hard enough to leave marks you’d have to hide later. His free hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you against him as he fingered you deeper, faster. His palm rubbed against your clit with every thrust of his fingers.

You were trembling. Pleasure built rapidly, hot and overwhelming. Your juices coated his hand, dripping down his wrist. The silk of your dress bunched up further. Anyone looking closely might have seen, but the risk only made it hotter. “Sunghoon…” you whimpered under your breath.

He bit your earlobe. “Missed this tight little cunt. Missed how you fall apart for me.”

His fingers pumped faster, curling relentlessly. The heel of his hand ground against your swollen clit. Your orgasm crashed into you without mercy, hard, sudden, devastating. Your pussy spasmed violently around his fingers, gushing slick arousal down his hand and onto your thighs. You moaned softly, body shaking as he held you upright, still swaying slowly to the music like nothing was happening.

He didn’t stop. He kept fingering you through it, drawing out every wave until your legs felt like jelly. When it finally subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth behind you. You heard him suck them clean with a low, satisfied groan.

The song ended. You turned in his arms, flushed, breathing hard, eyes glassy with lust and alcohol. His eyes were nearly black with desire, lips parted, chest rising fast. His cock was straining obscenely against his pants. Neither of you spoke. The tension had finally snapped.

You both knew this was only the beginning of the night.

The song faded out, but the heat between you didn’t. Your legs were still shaky from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you on the dance floor. Sunghoon’s chest was pressed flush against your back, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke in a low, rough whisper.

“We need to go somewhere private. Right now.” His voice was strained with barely contained lust. “Before I bend you over in front of everyone.”

You didn’t even hesitate. The alcohol and adrenaline made you bold. You gave him the smallest nod, and he immediately took your hand, guiding you through the crowd with purposeful strides. Heeseung was still laughing with Jay and Jake near the bar, completely unaware. Sooha was safe at home. No one noticed as the two of you slipped inside the luxurious indoor section of the venue.

The bathroom was a single, spacious unisex room, dimly lit, marble counters, a large mirror above the sink. The second the door clicked shut and locked, all restraint vanished.

Sunghoon was on you instantly. He spun you around and pulled your back flush against his chest, positioning both of you in front of the mirror. Your eyes met in the reflection, his dark and feral, yours glassy and desperate. His hands were rough with urgency as he yanked the hem of your short burgundy dress up over your hips in one swift motion, bunching the silk around your waist.

“Fuck,” he growled, staring at your reflection. Your tiny black lace panties were soaked through, the fabric clinging obscenely to your swollen pussy lips.

His right hand slid down immediately, fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. Two long, thick fingers dragged through your slick folds, parting them, coating themselves in your wetness. He pressed them against your clit first, rubbing slow, firm circles that made your hips jerk.

A broken moan spilled from your lips. “Ah—Sunghoon…”

He relished it. His eyes darkened further in the mirror as he watched your face contort in pleasure. “That’s it. Let me hear you moan for me again.”

He pushed those two fingers deep inside you without warning, burying them to the knuckle in your dripping heat. Your walls clenched hard around the intrusion, still sensitive from the earlier orgasm on the dance floor. He curled them instantly, stroking that perfect spot he knew better than anyone.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, another loud moan escaping you. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy filled the bathroom.

Your hands moved behind you with frantic need. You palmed the massive bulge straining against his tailored pants, feeling how hard and hot he was. Sunghoon hissed sharply as you squeezed him through the fabric. With trembling fingers, you tugged his zipper down, reaching inside to pull his thick cock out.

He was rock hard, veins pulsing, the head already glistening with precum. The familiar weight and girth made your mouth water. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking from base to tip in long, firm pumps exactly the way he liked it.

“Shit—yes,” he groaned, hips bucking into your fist. His fingers fucked you harder, faster, plunging in and out while his palm rubbed relentlessly against your clit. The mirror gave you both a perfect view of everything, your flushed face, your tits nearly spilling out of your dress, his hand disappearing between your thighs, your smaller hand working his cock desperately.

You pumped him faster, twisting your wrist at the head, spreading his precum down his shaft. Every time you squeezed him, his fingers would thrust deeper into you, like a filthy feedback loop. Your moans mixed with his low grunts.

“Look at yourself,” he demanded, voice hoarse. His free hand came up to grip your jaw, forcing you to watch your reflection. “Look how fucking desperate you are for me. Dripping all over my fingers while your boyfriend’s right outside.”

The words only made you wetter. You whimpered loudly, stroking him quicker, feeling his cock throb and twitch in your hand. His fingers curled and scissored inside you, stretching you open, hitting that spot over and over until your thighs started shaking.

You were both lost in it, driven by pure, pent-up lust. The sound of his fingers plunging into your creamy pussy mixed with the slick sound of your hand jerking his cock. Your juices were dripping down his wrist and onto the marble floor.

“I’m gonna—fuck, Sunghoon—I’m close again,” you gasped, eyes half-lidded in the mirror.

He leaned down, biting the side of your neck hard as his fingers sped up. “Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers like the dirty little slut you are for your ex.”

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, then a loud, broken moan tore from your throat as your pussy clenched violently around his fingers, gushing slick arousal all over his hand. Your knees buckled, but he held you up, still fucking you through it with his fingers while you frantically stroked his cock.

Sunghoon groaned deeply, hips stuttering as your orgasm pushed him over the edge too. Thick ropes of cum shot from his cock, spilling over your hand and onto the sink counter as he came hard. For a few long seconds, the only sounds were heavy breathing and the faint bass of the music outside.

You both stared at each other in the mirror, flushed, messy, and still hungry.

This wasn’t going to end here. The bathroom air was thick with the scent of sex, your arousal and his cum. You were both still panting, staring at each other through the mirror. Sunghoon’s fingers were still buried inside you, lazily stroking through the aftershocks while your hand was covered in his release.

Without a word, you slowly turned around and sank to your knees on the cool marble floor in front of him. His cock was still hard, glistening with cum and your spit from earlier strokes. You looked up at him with hazy, lust-drunk eyes as you wrapped your fingers around the base.

You leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his swollen tip, tasting the salty remnants of his orgasm. Sunghoon’s breath hitched sharply, one hand immediately threading into your hair.

“Fuck… you’re really gonna do this?” he rasped, voice wrecked.

You answered by parting your lips and taking him into your mouth. You sucked on the head first, swirling your tongue around it, cleaning every drop of cum. Then you sank deeper, relaxing your throat to take as much of his thick length as you could. The familiar stretch of your lips around him made you moan around his cock.

Sunghoon groaned loudly, hips twitching. “That’s it… just like that, baby.”

You bobbed your head, sucking him eagerly, hollowing your cheeks. Your hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, stroking him in time with your movements. The wet, sloppy sounds echoed obscenely in the bathroom as you deepthroated him again and again, eyes watering, spit dripping down your chin.

He watched you through the mirror above, the sight of you on your knees in that tiny burgundy dress driving him crazy. His grip tightened in your hair as he started fucking your throat gently.

“Missed this pretty mouth so fucking much,” he growled.

You moaned around him, the vibration making his thighs tense. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, growing even harder. His breathing turned ragged.

“Shit—I’m gonna cum again—”

You didn’t pull away. You took him as deep as possible, looking up at him with teary eyes. Sunghoon cursed loudly as he came down your throat, thick spurts of hot cum shooting straight into your stomach. You swallowed every drop, milking him until he was shuddering and oversensitive.

He pulled you up roughly by your arms and spun you around, bending you over the marble sink. Your hands braced against the counter, eyes locked on your own reflection, flushed face, swollen lips, messy hair. Sunghoon yanked your dress up again and ripped your soaked panties down your thighs in one motion.

He rubbed his still-hard cock between your dripping folds, teasing your entrance. Then he pushed in, one long, powerful thrust and he buried himself to the hilt inside you.

Both of you moaned loudly at the same time. “Oh my god! Sunghoon…” you cried out, the stretch overwhelming after so long apart.

“Fuck—your pussy… still so tight,” he groaned through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut for a moment. The feeling of your warm, velvety walls clenching around him made his knees weak. “I missed this so fucking bad.”

He gave you only a second to adjust before he started moving, deep, hard strokes that slammed into you with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom as he fucked you against the sink. Your tits bounced heavily inside your dress with every powerful snap of his hips.

Sunghoon reached around and yanked the front of your dress down, letting your breasts spill free. His large hands immediately grabbed them, squeezing and kneading roughly just like he used to. His fingers pinched and rolled your sensitive nipples, tugging them as he pounded into you harder.

“Look in the mirror,” he demanded, voice low and filthy. “Watch how I’m fucking you.”

You obeyed, eyes glazed with pleasure as you watched his reflection. His sharp jaw was clenched, dark eyes burning into yours through the glass. One hand stayed on your tit, playing with it possessively, while the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.

He fucked you relentlessly, cock dragging against every sweet spot inside you. The angle had him hitting so deep you felt him in your stomach. Your moans were loud and broken, impossible to hold back.

“Sunghoon—ahh—fuck, you’re so deep—”

He leaned over you, biting your shoulder as he played with your tits and slammed into you. “This pussy is mine. Always been mine.”

The pleasure built fast and brutal. Your second orgasm ripped through you without warning, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock like a vice. You cried out his name as you came, juices dripping down your thighs.

The feeling pushed Sunghoon over the edge right after you.

With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself as deep as possible and came hard inside you. Thick ropes of cum flooded your pussy, filling you up completely. He kept thrusting through it, pushing his load deeper, claiming you in the most primal way.

For a long moment, you both stayed like that, his cock still buried inside you, his hands still groping your tits, both of you breathing heavily as you stared at each other in the mirror.

Reality slowly crept back in. Heeseung was somewhere outside. Sooha was waiting at home. But neither of you could bring yourselves to care yet. Sunghoon pressed a messy kiss to the back of your neck, still twitching inside your cum-filled pussy.

“We’re not done tonight,” he whispered darkly. “Not even close.”

she sighed dramatically, reaching out to hold his hand. “you know how it is… my body gets so stressed these days. the doctor said my heart rate keeps spiking—but it’s only because i worry too much about this family.”

she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, her thumb brushing over his knuckle. “but seeing you now… i already feel much better.”

sunghoon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “are you stressed again? you promised me last time you’d take it easy.” his voice dropped into that gentle, concerned son in law, half doctor tone. “you can’t keep ending here. i’ll have to start making house calls.”

the older woman just laughed softly, her eyes lingering on her daughter’s husband's handsome face. “sure, sure. sooha is so lucky to have such a caring husband like you, sunghoon.”

the doctor just chuckled, before turning slightly to face you standing there by the curtain—tablet in hand, wearing your pretty little pink fitted nurse uniform, hair neatly tied in a bun.

“oh,” he said smoothly, placing his larger hand lightly on your lower back to bring you forward. “this is my nurse, yn. i assigned her to your case so she can keep a close eye on you when i’m not around.”

his palm stayed pressed against your lower back the entire time, fingers subtle stroking the fabric of your uniform in small, slow circles no one else could see. the heat from his hand seeped through the thin material.

mrs. kim smiled at you, tilting her head. “aw, you’re such a young and pretty one. how old are you, dear? you look too fresh to be working here.”

you bowed your head, trying to ignore the way your doctor’s thumb was now slowly tracing your spine. “thank you, ma’am… i’m only in my mid 20’s now.”

“only? so young and already so capable,” she said kindly, though her attention quickly drifted back to sunghoon. “i should’ve told sooha to take nursing too…”

you and sunghoon gave each other a look.

sunghoon just hummed in response, his hand still not moving from your back. in fact, he stepped a little closer to you, his body heat now brushing against your side as he pretended to check the monitor beside the bed.

“right—yn’s very capable, mom,” he murmured, fingers brushing over the tubing. his other fingers pressed a little firmer into your lower back, almost possessively. “very attentive. she’ll take care of you well.”

the way he said the last word made your thighs clench involuntarily. 

his mother in law only chuckled, completely unaware of the tension crackling between the two of you. “well, if that’s how it is—then i feel much safer now.”

sunghoon smiled, finally sliding his hand down a few inches before he pulled it away.

“then yn, i’ll leave her to your care,” he turned to you with a soft smile. with his eyes still on you, he hummed. “i’ll come back later at night to check up on you.”

——

later that night, the hospital corridor lights had dimmed to the soft glow. the ward was quiet except for occasional beep of monitors. 

you were helping mrs. kim settle into bed for the night—fluffing her pillow, adjusting the bed level, making sure her iv line wasn’t tangled. not the usual nurse duty, but this is the mother in law of of the chairman’s grandson, for gods sakes. 

she’d been restless for the past hour.

as you tucked the blanket to her, mrs. kim suddenly groaned in pain, her face twisting. “... my chest feels tight again. it hurts…”

you immediately moved closer, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “it’s okay. take slow breaths for me—i’m right here.”

she let out another soft groan, clutching the blanket. you checked her vitals, then spoke in a calm, soothing voice: “i’ll be in this room the whole night, so don’t worry at all. if the pain gets worse or you need anything, just call my name. i’ll be sitting right there on the couch beside your bed, okay?”

mrs. kim exhaled shakily and gave you a smile. “thank you, hun.”

after giving her some pain relief medication as per the chart and dimming the bedside lamp, you moved to the small couch near the window—you sat down with your laptop, updating notes, doing tasks.

the room fell into a heavy silence, only accompanied by mrs. kim’s occasional soft groans as she fall asleep. 

twenty minutes passed. 

then the door to the private ward clicked openly.

sunghoon stepped inside, still in his white coat, tie slightly loosened. his eyes scanned the darkened room before they landed on you sitting on the couch. a smirk tugged at his lips when he saw you there—his pretty little nurse sitting there with your legs crossed.

he closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“everything alright?” he asked, voice low so as not to wake his mother in law.

you nodded. “i just gave her some acetaminophen earlier.”

sunghoon walked closer, stopping just inches away from where you’re sitting. his tall frame towered over yours as he glanced at his mother in law sleeping form, then back to you. the dim night light cast shadows across his face.

without a word, he leaned down, placing both hands on the armrests of the couch, caging you in. his face was close to yours, and you could smell his clean cologne mixed with the scent of hospital.

“well… what about you?” he murmured, voice deep.

you tilted your head slightly. “what about me?”

sunghoon’s gaze dropped to your lips for a second before returning to your eyes. his arms flexed slightly as he leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“how are you doing?”

a small, shy smile tugged at your lips as you moved your head to whisper back, “aside form missing you… i’m just really bored, i guess.”

the moment the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in him. a low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest before one of his hands slowly slid up your thigh, fingers slipping under the hem of your pink uniform.

“bored?” he breathed against your ear. “that’s a shame. i’ve been thinking about you all day.”

his fingers continued their slow ascent, teasing the soft skin of your inner thigh as his mother in law slept just a few meters away. his other hand stayed planted on the armrest, keeping you trapped beneath him.

“taking care of my mother in law like i asked…” his lips ghosted along your jaw. you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him in. “maybe i should reward you for being so good.”

his hand moved higher, fingertips brushing close to the edge of your panties just beneath your waistband. 

“tell me… how quiet can you be?”

without another word, sunghoon cupped your face with his other hand and kissed you.

it wasn’t gentle. 

his lips claimed yours instantly, deep and desperate from the long hours of work—starving for you. you whimpered softly into his mouth as he tilted your head back, kissing you harder, tongue sliding against yours with wet, heated strokes. the quiet sounds of your lips meeting filled the dim room—soft and filthy. 

“i missed you too,” your doctor whispered between kisses, voice rough. “fuck, i miss you every day, baby.”

sunghoon kissed you again, slower this time, pouring every unspoken feeling into it. his other hand slid into your hair, loosening your neat bun until strands fell around your face. you clutched the front of his white coat, pulling him closer, hearts bearing wildly against each other.

while his tongue tangled with yours, sunghoon’s slender fingers moved down to the front of your pink nurse uniform. one by one, he popped the buttons open, knuckles brushing over the swell of your breasts as the fabric parted. he groaned quietly into your mouth when he saw your lazy bra underneath. 

“so fucking pretty…” he breathed, kissing you deeper as he tugged the uniform open wider, exposing your chest and stomach to the aircond. his palm slid inside, cupping your breast over the lace, thumb stroking your nipple until it hardened under his touch.

you moaned softly against his lips—and he swallowed the sound, kissing you like he wished to devour you whole. 

“you have no idea how crazy you make me,” sunghoon kissed the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, down your neck while his hands roamed freely over your bare skin. another button came undone—until your uniform was completely open down the front, hanging off your shoulders. 

sunghoon pulled back to look at you—flushed, lips swollen, uniform undone, chest rising and falling. his gaze was full of love and lust. 

“god, you’re mine,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you again, pecking all over your cheek and jaw—eliciting a soft giggle out of you. “mine, aren’t you?” he hummed, lips brushing your ear as he kissed you there too. “say it, baby.”

“i’m yours,” you breathed, tipping your head back. “only yours, hoonie.”

even with his wife’s mother sleeping just a few feet away, there was no guilt in his eyes—only that shameless hunger he always had for you. you two had long stopped pretending this was just an affair—not when it felt real. too real. 

sunghoon kissed you once more on the lips then stood up, straight in front of the couch. the bulge in his slacks was obvious, straining against the fabric. without saying a word, sunghoon looked down at you with dark, expectant eyes and slowly unbuckled his belt. 

the quiet clink of metal made your tummy flutter. 

you didn’t need instructions. you pulled his zipper down and freed his hard cock—it sprang out heavy and thick, the tip already glistening with precum.

“fuck… look at it—” he murmured, one hand gently cradling the back of your head. “look how hard i am for you.”

you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the head before wrapping your lips around him, taking him into your warm, wet mouth. sunghoon let out a quiet, shaky breath, jaw clenching as you started sucking him slowly. 

“that’s it, shit… just like that,” he whispered, stroking your hair. his other hand rested on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin tenderly. you hummed around his cock, the vibration making his hips twitch. he kept his eyes on you the entire time—watching your pretty lips stretch around him, lashes fluttering, eyes twitching as you tried taking him as deep as you could.

your uniform still wide open and exposing your tits as you move your head. 

sunghoon gently began rocking his hips, fucking your mouth with slow, deep thrusts, whispering soft praises the whole time. 

“my girl. shit—your mouth feels s’good.”

he groaned quietly, fingering tightening in your hair as you took him even deeper, eyes watering but never breaking eye contact. it’s always hard to give sunghoon a blowjob—not with his size, and now with how hard it is to fit him in your mouth fully.

his hips twitched as he fought the urge to thrust deeper down and fuck your throat. your warm mouth worked him so perfectly.

“baby—fuck, wait,” he brathed, gently pulling you off his cock with a wet pop. a string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his throbbing tip. your eyebrows pinched in confusion, looking up at him. sunghoon breathed in hard, tugging down on his lip. “not yet. i don’t wanna cum in your mouth tonight.”

he helped you up and kissed you filthily, tasting himself on your tongue as he walked you backward. in one motion, sunghoon turned you around and bent you over the armrest of the couch.

sunghoon pushed your chest down against the couch cushion, arching your back nicely so your ass was up and presented to him. he stood behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other slowly pushed your pants and panties down your thighs. 

the position was nasty—risky as hell. mrs. kim was sleeping just a few metres away, and if she woke up even a little, she’d have a clear, first hand view of her son in law fucking his nurse from behind like this.

holy fuck—that’s hot.

sunghoon wrapped his hand around the base, rubbing his thick cockhead between your wet folds, coating himself in your slick. they kissed like lovers too—a string of juice connected from the lips to the tip.

“‘m so wet for you, hoonie,” you moaned, pussy twitching in neediness. sunghoon chuckled, leaning over your back and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. “really?” he hummed in satisfactory, nudging his cockhead to your entrance.

“my pretty little nurse is this soaked just from sucking me off?” 

he kept rubbing the head in slow, filthy circles, pressing it against your hole only to pull back again, making you whimper in frustration. you pushed your ass back against him. 

“please…” you whispered, voice shaking. “i need you inside me already.”

sunghoon kissed the back of your neck, licking a stripe of it. “my mother in law’s sleeping just right there, baby,” he whispered against your neck, clearly enjoying how shameless you both were. “you really do love this cock more than anything, don’t you?”

you groaned softly, hips twitching. “s—stop teasing… i love you more, hoonie.”

with a soft grunt from him at that confession, he finally pushed the head in—stretching you open before pulling out again, repeating the motion until your thighs trembled, and until your pussy was ready to take him whole.

“fuck, you’re so cute when you’re this needy,” he whispered, burying himself deep inside you, stretching your walls around his thick length. you both moaned quietly—yours muffled into the couch cushion, his against the back of your neck. 

“so big, you’re s’big,” you whimpered, fingers clutching the fabric. sunghoon groaned, pressing his lips against your skin. “no, baby—you’re just too tight… pussy made for me.”

your doctor started fucking you with deep, steady strokes, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, the wet sounds of your bodies connecting obscenely loud in the quiet hospital room. 

your tits were pressed against the couch as he railed you from behind. sunghoon leaned over you, one hand gripping your hip while the other reached around to rub your clit in tight circles. 

“you’re fucking dripping, baby,” he breathed hotly against your ear, hips snapping harder. “i can hear how sloppy your pussy is for me.”

you could only moan in response, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts, just as horny and addicted as he was to you. every deep stroke hit that perfect spot inside, making your eyes roll back.

sunghoon bit down on your shoulder, leaving love and teeth marks as he picked up the pace, fucking you a little harder. 

“i love you so much,” he rasped, pounding his confession into you. “i don’t give a fuck about anything else, right now.”

your pussy convulsed around his cock, wrapping around him like a vice. sunghoon straightened up slightly, gripping both your hips now as he started giving you nastier strokes—pulling you back onto his cock with every thrusts and watching the way your ass rippled against his pelvis. 

you’re trying so hard to stay quiet, but it felt too good. “hoonie,, fuck—” you moaned breathily. “you’re so deep… i can feel you so deep inside me.”

“yeah?” he groaned, pounding into your harder until he swore the couch was going to move. “you like that, baby?”

before you could answer, mrs. kim let out a low groan in her sleep, shifting slightly under the blanket. you both froze for a second, hearts pounding. sunghoon didn’t pull out. instead, he stayed buried balls–deep inside you, slowly grinding his cock against your walls. 

when his mother in law settled again, you whimpered desperately.

“hoonie, i’m so wet it’s dripping down,” you whispered, hips trembling. “i get so horny when you’re around.” 

sunghoon cursed under his breath at your filthy words. he suddenly pulled out, making you whine at the emptiness—only to turn you around. he sat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, back against his chest.

your eyes widened—legs spread wide over his thighs as he lined himself up and sank you back down onto his cock. the new position made him feel even bigger.

he wrapped one arm around your waist, the other groped your tits, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he started fucking up into you.

“fuck, i love these tits s’much,” he groaned, lips attacking your neck. he kissed you sloppily, tongue sliding into your mouth as he bounced you on his cock. “i get so pissed off when i think of you doing checkups on men,”

—which was the reason why you became his nurse.

you moaned into the kiss, grinding down on him. your hand held his arm around your waist, the other snaked up to cup his head. “hoonie, ngh—s—she’s going to wake up any time now,” you panted between kisses.

sunghoon shook his head. “it’s fine, she won’t.” he reassured so confidently, one hand massaging and pinching your nipples while the other slid between your legs to rub your clit. 

the overstimulation was sending you up to the clouds—sunghoon kept hitting your cervix, his textured cock dragging against your velvety walls. “fuck, right there,” your head fall back against his shoulder. “i—i’m going to cum, hngh—babe”

“do it—cum on my cock,” he rasped against your ear, thrusting up harder. “let me feel this pussy squeeze me.”

“i love you—shit, i love you,” you whimpered, toes curling inwards.

sunghoon groaned deeply, fucking you deep and fast till your tits bounced in his hand.

“i’m close,” he panted, forehead against your shoulder. “‘m gonna cum inside you, baby. want me to fill this pretty pussy up?”

“yes—yesyesyesyes, please,” you whimpered, holding the back of your knees to steady yourself. “cum inside me, hoonie. want it so bad—want you s’bad.”

sunghoon squeezed your cheeks to make you face him—kissing you hard, tongues messily sliding together as his thrusts turned short, desperate, and deep. his other hand kept rubbing your clit, tugging the little pea.

mrs. kim groaned softly again in her sleep, but neither of you stopped. sunghoon just fucked you harder, the wet slapping sounds getting louder. 

“fuck—i’m cumming,” he graoned against your mouth. “take it all, baby. take my cum—”

with a deep, shaky thrust, sunghoon buried himself as deep as possible and came hard. thick, warm ropes of cum spilled inside you, pulse after pulse, filling you up completely. he kept grinding, pushing his load deeper while kissing you through his orgasm, moaning into each others’ mouths.

you whimpered at the feeling of being so full, clenching around him as you came right after, pussy milking every last drop.

the doctor stayed inside you even after he finished, breathing heavily as he pressed soft kisses to the side of your cheek.

“i love you,” he hummed, nuzzling into the warmth of your neck. his cum slowly leaking out around his cock.

——

“alright—! you’re all good, mrs. kim!” you smiled, handing the papers to her. “blood pressure is stable, vitals are normal. you can go home today.”

sunghoon smiled as well, standing next to you. “no more being stressed over small things, yeah, mom?” 

mrs. kim sighed in relief, but then her face scrunched up slightly.

“thank you, hun… but ugh… i think i had such a strange nightmare last night,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. “is this hospital haunted or something, sunghoon? i kept hearing weird sounds… it felt so real. did you hear it, yn?”

the two of you froze. 

a brief, knowing look passed between you two. the corner of sunghoon’s lips twitched upward into the tiniest smirk before he quickly hid it with the back of his hand.

you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

“n—no? not at all… there were no such sounds, mrs. kim…” you replied, shaking your head.

sunghoon cleared his throat. “...ah, hospitals can be noisy at night. don’t worry about it, mom. get plenty of rest at home—i’ll come visit soon.”

she nodded obliviously, smiling. 

“about time, hm? sooha’s always complaining how lonely she is,” she shook her head, teasing. then, mrs. kim turned to you, extending her arm to rub your forearm. “thank you for taking care of me. i’ll invite you to dinner, sometime soon.”

you nodded, blood creeping up your cheeks. you held her hand fondly, shaking it. 

“i’ll look forward to it.”