Then the fans started up with “Hey Jude” and you had to look away quickly, blinking hard. The pride you feel swells up so huge it doesn’t fit in your chest, it spills over into these stupid tears every single time you hear the song, no matter how many times you see him do something like this.

“He looks exhausted,” Denise says quietly, her arm still hooked through yours, squeezing a little.

“I know. Bless him. I don’t know how he’s still standing out there. He gave that absolutely everything.”

You take some deep breaths with his parents, gushing over his performance as usual and wait for him to finish with everything else he has to do after the final whistle.

Soon enough, you watch him walk over showered and changed into the usual post-match tracksuits, his hood half up already like he’s already trying to shut the world out. Even from a distance you can see the heaviness in his shoulders, the way he’s moving a bit stiffer than usual, his tall frame carrying the weight of a country for ninety-plus minutes. He looks happy though. So, so happy. His dark eyes scan the stands until they find you three, and you can see the sparkle in them as soon as he spots you. 

He hugs his mum first, extra tight, murmuring something that makes her laugh and pat his back. All week she’d been saying watch your language, watch your tackles, watch your face so he wouldn’t get booked. You could see how proud she was of him, her eyes closing when they hugged. It almost made your heart burst. 

Then his dad, the two of them clapping each other on the shoulder like they always do, that quiet father-son thing that always makes your chest warm. Mark kisses his cheek, and your smile mirrors Jude’s bashful one. Only after that does he turn to you.

“There she is,” he says, voice a little rough from the game, his accent coming through even stronger when he’s tired. He smiles down at you, exhausted but sweet, and you stand up to meet him.

You cup his cheek, thumb brushing his sharp cheekbone, your other arm sliding round his broad back. He’s warm, solid, still carrying the smell of the grass mixed with fresh shower gel. “I’m so proud of you, Jude. That looked so tough out there.”

He leans down and kisses you, soft and quick. He’s never one for big PDA with the cameras hovering, but he never lets you feel unloved. Then his hand comes up, gentle as anything, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear. His eyes go all soft as he looks at you, the intense match-day fire dialled right down just for you. “Thank you, baby. Yeah… it was hard. Proper hard. But we got there. It was rough though, I’m shattered.”

You sit back down and he drops straight onto the seat next to you, no hesitation. His head finds your shoulder immediately, heavy and trusting, like he’s been waiting for this exact spot the whole night. You slide your hand up to scratch lightly at the back of his neck, the way he likes, and feel him let out a long breath, sinking further into you. The relief in his body is so obvious it makes your heart twist.

His mum and dad chat lightly for a minute — something about the referee, how proud they are, the usual post-match debrief — and Jude mumbles along, half in it, half gone. His hand finds yours in your lap, fingers threading together lazily.

After a bit he turns his head, lips brushing your ear as he lowers his voice. “Are you gonna come visit me tonight?”

You snort, playfully nudging his head away. “You look like you’ve been hit by a bus, babe.”

He laughs then, loud and bright, teeth flashing, his eyes lighting up with the loving mischief that always gets you. “What? I can’t get cuddles from my girl? After that?”

You raise an eyebrow, fighting your own smile. “Cuddles?”

His lip twitches, smirk spreading slow and dangerous. “Cuddles,” he repeats, all innocent like. “And a couple of kisses. Just three or four…”

You tilt your head, giving him a look. He’s dead on his feet, shoulders slumped, yet still managing to look at you like that. You ignore the heat pooling in your stomach from the way he's looking at you and try to think logically. The semi-finals are midweek. “You’re gonna cramp up at some point and whatever idea you’ve got of cuddles and kisses is gonna be straight out the window.”

“Can I not enjoy my recovery with my girlfriend? Is that against the law now?” He huffs dramatically, but his hands are already stroking up your sides, warm and familiar.

You huff at him, already giving in. “You’re so spoilt.”

He grins wider, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You can never say no to me.”

And it’s true. You can’t say no to him. Not when he looks at you like that. Cuddles. Right. 

It wasn’t long before you found yourself being led by Jude back to his room in the team hotel in Miami. They’d just had a squad dinner, winding down after the match. As soon as players started to retreat he’d texted you and met you in the lobby. Other England camps weren’t like this in the past, you were so grateful the rules had been changed to let you see him, even if he should be resting.

He’d showered again, you could already tell by the cologne and body wash mix you could smell as you followed him down the quiet corridor. His hand was warm around yours, thumb brushing your knuckles every few steps. He still moved a little stiff from the game, the beautiful body of his carrying the bruises and the exhaustion, but there was this restless energy in him too, the win still buzzing under his skin.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, he didn’t stop talking. He kicked his slides off, flopping back onto the bed as he kept going, voice low and rough but nonstop the way it always gets when he’s over-excited.

“...and then after the equaliser, I swear the pitch felt like it was moving, the humidity was mad out there. But the lads were buzzing, it was so loud on the pitch. Harry pulled me over after and was saying something about the run we’re on now, and I was just thinking the whole time about that last chance, how I nearly messed up the touch but it just fell right. Then extra time, my legs were gone but you just dig deep, don’t you? Mum’s texts were killing me the whole week about watching my face and my language, I nearly got booked just for breathing heavy at the ref at one point—”

He laughed at himself, running a hand over his damp hair, eyes bright even though his shoulders were sinking deeper into the pillows. You perched on the edge of the bed, watching him, the usual warmth spreading in your chest.

He reached out and tugged you closer by the wrist, still mid-story. “—and then I was like, nah, we’re not losing this one. You get me babe? And then I was like—”

“Jude, take a breath, love. I was there and watching the whole thing,” you chuckle, adjusting to lie next to him on the bed. His arm slipped under your head straight away, pulling you in like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb moved slowly across your cheek, warm and a little rough.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he murmured, half-laughing at himself again, voice dropping lower. “I’m just… excited. I don’t know. We left everything out there and…”

He trailed off for a second, eyes half-closed, but his fingers kept moving, tracing your jaw, then down the side of your neck, like he couldn’t quite settle even though his body was heavy with tiredness. Up close like this you could see every little detail: the faint sheen of sweat still at his hairline from how warm it was in Miami, the way his chest rose and fell a bit quicker than normal, a fresh bruise along his jaw starting to darken. You breathed in his warm skin scent that always made your stomach flip.

He shifted closer, leg hooking over yours casually, voice going soft and a little rough with emotion. “It’s mad innit? One minute you’re out there thinking your legs are done, next minute the ball drops and it just… happens. And now we’re in the semis. Semis, babe.”

His grin came back, tired but bright, the one that always made your heart do stupid things. He pressed his forehead to yours for a second, breathing you in like he needed it more than air. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you were up there. Makes it all feel different.”

“I love you,” you whisper softly, thumb brushing his cheek, “and I’m so proud of you.”

“How proud?” he beamed, raising an eyebrow, a playful spark lighting up his exhausted face.

“Very proud. Like… prouder than you can even imagine. I think I’ve cried at nearly every game—”

Jude giggles, almost giddy, the sound low and warm in his chest. He loved praise, especially from you, it always turned him soft and a little cocky at the same time. “I know, my little crybaby,” he cooed, voice teasing and fond as he leaned in, pressing little kisses all over your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. Each one gentle and sweet, like he was savouring being close after the chaos of the match.

“Shut up,” you laugh quietly, trying to sound stern but failing completely. “You need to calm down, baby. You have to sleep.”

“My body’s tired,” he mumbles against your skin, kissing your cheek again, then lingering lower near your jaw, “but the adrenaline is just making me wired, man.”

You stroke his side, up and down in a slow, steady rhythm, feeling the solid warmth of him under your palm, the faint tremor of leftover energy in his muscles. His tall frame was heavy against you, one leg tangled with yours, but his hands kept wandering. Sliding under the hem of your top to rest against your lower back, thumb tracing lazy circles there. 

After a moment he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s looking down at you properly. The lamp on the bedside table casts a soft glow over his face, his beautiful brown eyes and pink lips slightly parted. He looks unfairly good for someone who just played extra time in a stadium that felt more like a sauna.

“So…” he starts, a smirk creeping back in. “About those kisses I was promised.”

You raise an eyebrow, fighting a smile again. “I don’t remember promising anything.”

“Oi, don’t lie to me..” He leans in closer, nose brushing yours, breath warm against your mouth. “I distinctly remember talking about three or four. Minimum.” His hand slides higher under your top, palm flat and warm against your ribs, thumb stroking just under the curve of your breast. “Come on, baby. I earned them, didn’t I? Scored two, dragged us to the semis… least you can do is give your man some proper kisses.”

He’s grinning again now, all cheeky and tired and completely devastating to your self-control . Before you can answer he dips his head and presses one slow kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another just below your ear, lingering there like he knows exactly what it does to you. 

“You’ve just wasted two kisses…and you look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

He groans in joking frustration, eyebrows furrowing to give you a little puppy dog look that always gets him out of trouble. “I just want cuddles and kisses before i sleep-”

He stops as you tilt your head at him, giving him another look.

“I swear, I swear! Baby, please…”

The pleading look on his face already has your stomach flipping, mouth a little dry. He’s so unfairly gorgeous like this. Tired eyes, messy damp curls,his toned body stretched out next to you, still radiating heat from the match. The way his tracksuit top has ridden up to show a sliver of toned stomach… it’s ridiculous how much you want him even when he’s half-dead on his feet.

“Fine,” you say, trying to sound stern but your voice comes out softer than you mean it to, “but you need to try and sleep too…”

He shifts slightly so you’re fully facing each other, one hand moving to your lower back, his leg still draped heavy over yours. “I can fall asleep kissing you.”

The kisses start off sweet and slow. Gentle presses of his lips against yours, his hand stroking your lower back under your top. His other hand in your hair, fingers loose and tired. Then they deepen.

Jude lets out a quiet, relieved sigh into your mouth as his lips part wider, tongue sliding in slow and warm. The kisses turn sloppy fast. Wet, lazy, unhurried in an exhausted way that somehow makes it hotter. His tongue moves heavy and deep, tangling with yours in long, messy strokes, licking into your mouth like he’s too tired to do anything but feel you. Every so often he sucks softly on your tongue or your bottom lip, pulling it between his before going back in deeper, slower, wetter. You can taste the faint mint from his post-dinner toothpaste mixed with the warm, familiar taste that’s just him. His breaths are heavier now, little groans vibrating against your lips as the kisses grow filthier. Your tongues sliding slow and slick, mouths open and messy, spit-slick lips catching every time you pull apart for air only to dive right back in.

He’s genuinely exhausted, you feel it in the heavy weight of his body against yours, the way his movements stay soft and sleepy even as they get more desperate. His hand in your hair tightens slightly, holding you there as he kisses you like he’s trying to melt into you. Deep, lazy swirls of his tongue, slow sucks, the occasional sleepy grind of his hips against your thigh. He’s half-asleep and completely turned on at the same time, and it’s doing dangerous things to you.

Your hand slides under his top to rest on his ribs, and the soft, needy sound he makes against your tongue makes you shiver hard in his arms.

“M’so hard for you,” he whispers against your lips, breathing heavily. He presses his hips forward, grinding slowly so you can feel exactly how turned on he is, the thick, heavy outline of his cock straining against his joggers.

“You need me to help you, baby?” you murmur, letting your hand trail down his stomach until your palm cups the hard bulge. He’s so warm, so fucking hard already, twitching eagerly under your touch.

Jude’s breath hitches, hips jerking up into your hand as he lets out a soft, desperate whimper. “Please…”

“But you’re so tired, Jude.” You stroke him slowly through the fabric, teasing, because you love when he gets like this…all soft, sleepy, and whiny for you.

“Baby—” he whines, the sound high and needy, forehead pressed to yours. His hand moves down to squeeze your ass, fingers digging in just a little. “M’never too tired for you… fuck, please touch me properly. I need it. Need you so bad..”

You push his joggers down just enough to free him and wrap your fingers around him. Jude’s whole body shudders, a broken moan spilling from his lips as you start stroking him. You start slow, firm pulls from base to tip, thumb swirling over the slick head every time. He’s so thick and hot in your hand, veins pulsing, leaking steadily now. You’re transfixed by the sight of him.

“Fuck… yes, just like that,” he whimpers, voice all sleepy. His head tips back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, mouth open as soft, desperate little sounds keep falling out of him. “Your hand feels so good, baby… don’t stop, please. I’ve been thinking about this for hours.”

You twist your wrist on the upstroke and he jolts, hips bucking lazily into your fist, chasing the pleasure even though his body is heavy with exhaustion. Every whimper is quieter, needier. He’s almost submissive in the way he lets you take control, thighs trembling, fingers clutching at your waist like you’re the only thing anchoring him.

You lift his shirt higher so you can see his toned stomach, selfishly maybe, but he looked so pretty. You keep going, stroking him faster, tighter, watching the way his abs clench and his chest rises and falls quicker. “So pretty Jude,” you whisper, and Jude lets out a broken whine, biting his bottom lip.

“Baby… I— fuck, I’m so close already,” he pants, voice cracking. “Your hand is gonna make me come if you keep— ah—”

You slide down his body before he can finish, taking him into your mouth in one slow, wet glide. Jude’s back arches off the bed with a loud, guttural moan, one hand flying to your hair, holding on tight as his fingers tremble.

“Oh my god— your mouth, fuck—” He’s losing it completely now, sleepy whimpers turning into desperate, broken sounds as you bob your head, tongue swirling around him, sucking him deep. “So warm… so fucking good. Baby, please— I can’t— you’re gonna make me come down your throat if you keep sucking like that.”

His hips twitch up gently, like he’s trying so hard to be good and not fuck your mouth, but his control is slipping. Whiny, breathy moans fill the room as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, tongue pressing along the underside. Jude’s thighs shake, hand tightening in your hair, voice hoarse.

“Baby… slow, please, I’m so sensitive— fuck, I love your mouth so much…”

You slow down and look up, making eye contact with him. His eyes are glassy, half-lidded with exhaustion and pure bliss, lips parted, chest heaving. The sight of you between his legs like this seems to ruin him even more.

“You’re so beautiful,” he moans, voice cracking, thumb stroking your cheek gently. “My beautiful girl.”

He keeps watching you with that dazed, adoring look, hips rocking up in tiny, helpless movements as you suck him slow and deep. You swirl your tongue around the head, then take him all the way again, relaxing your throat until your nose brushes his stomach. Jude’s whole body trembles.

“Fuck— baby, look at you,” he whispers, voice hoarse and reverent. “Taking me so well… even when I’m this tired. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”

His praise comes out soft and broken, each word punctuated by a shaky breath or a little whimper. You can feel how close he is, the way his cock throbs heavier on your tongue, the constant little twitches of his thighs, the way his fingers keep flexing in your hair like he’s fighting not to lose it. But he stays so good for you, letting you control everything, just moaning and whining softly every time you swallow around him or suck a little harder.

“Gonna make me come if you keep doing that…” he pants, eyes fluttering. “Your mouth is too good, love. Too warm and wet and— shit—”

You pull off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock as you stroke him slowly with your hand instead. Jude lets out a wrecked, needy sound at the loss, hips chasing your mouth for a second before he catches himself. Before you can say anything, he’s tugging at you weakly, desperate.

“Too far away… come back up here, please.”

You crawl back up his body and he immediately pulls you in, kissing you deep and messy, tasting himself on your tongue with a low groan. His hands are everywhere, sliding under your top, squeezing your waist, your hips, like he needs to feel all of you at the same time. The kiss goes on and on, lazy and filthy, tongues sliding slow while he whimpers softly into your mouth every time you stroke him.

You keep working your hand over his cock, slow and slick, and Jude’s hips rock up to meet every stroke, his breathing getting shakier. He breaks the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, panting.

“You don’t want to come yet?” you whisper against his lips, still stroking him lazily.

He shakes his head, eyes fluttering. “Wanna be closer to you baby, wanna make you feel good.. wanna.. wanna— fuck.”

His sentence cuts off into a broken moan. For a long moment he just kisses you again, deeper this time, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other slides down your body. His palm smooths over your stomach, then lower, teasing along the waistband of your shorts like he’s giving you time to feel the anticipation. His fingers finally slip under the fabric, pushing your shorts and panties down your thighs in one clumsy but eager movement. He helps kick them the rest of the way off, big hands gentle on your skin the whole time.

Once they’re gone he settles between your spread legs, still kissing you slow and deep. His fingers drag through your folds and he curses softly against your mouth.

“You’re so wet for me, fuck…” He circles your clit slowly, almost lazily, but the way his breath catches tells you how much it affects him. “All this for me? After I played like shit for half the game?”

You laugh breathlessly, rolling your hips against his hand, and he smiles a tired, crooked grin before leaning in to kiss you again. His fingers keep moving, slow circles on your clit, then dipping inside you just enough to make you gasp into his mouth. He’s still so hard against your thigh, twitching every time you moan.

Jude buries his face in your neck, kissing and sucking softly while his fingers work you open. “Need to be inside you,” he mumbles against your skin. “Please, baby. Wanna feel you around me. Wanna make you come first… then you can ride me slow while I hold you. I just— I need you close. So fucking close.”

He curls his fingers just right and you arch into him, moaning his name. Jude whimpers in response, pressing his cock against your hip like he can’t help it. 

“Please, baby,” he breathes against your neck, voice hoarse and shaky. “I need to be inside you. Can’t wait anymore.”

You nod, pulling him up for another deep kiss as he lines himself up. “If you get tired just say, Jude,” you whisper against his lips. He looked so exhausted — eyes heavy, shoulders slumped — and part of you still felt a pang of guilt that he was going to be the one putting in all the effort tonight.

“You’re such an angel,” he whispers softly, pecking your forehead with heartbreaking tenderness, then leaning down for another deep kiss. “As if I could ever be too tired to fuck you.”

The head of his cock nudges against your entrance, hot and slick, and you both moan into each other’s mouths as he starts pushing in. He’s so slow and careful, even though you can feel how badly he wants to bury himself.

“Fuck… so tight,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Inch by inch he sinks into you, stretching you open until he’s fully seated, hips flush against yours. The sound he makes is relief mixed with pleasure, a long, broken moan that vibrates through his chest.

For a moment he just stays there, buried deep, breathing hard against your lips. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, desperate for the full body contact. You can feel how tired he is, the way his muscles are trembling from the long match and the effort it’s taking just to hold himself up. “You feel so good,” he groans. “Just for me, yeah? Tell me this pussy belongs to me. ”

“It belongs to you, baby. Only you,” you moan softly, clenching around him. “I belong to you.”

A shaky breath leaves him. He buries his face in your neck, sucking softly on your skin while he gives one slow, grinding roll of his hips. “Good girl… all mine,” he mumbles, the words slurred with tiredness. “I don’t share you with anyone.”

Then he starts moving with slow, lazy rolls of his hips, grinding deep instead of thrusting hard. Every stroke is deliberate, like he’s savouring every second even though exhaustion is weighing on him. His breaths are heavier, his arms shaking slightly as he holds you, sweat beading on his forehead and sliding down his temple. Still, he doesn’t stop. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper, and Jude lets out a soft, whiny sound again that makes you clench harder around him.

“Baby… yeah, just like that,” he pants. “Feels too good. You’re squeezing me so tight— fuck.”

His mouth finds yours again, the kiss sloppy and tired, tongues sliding lazily while he keeps that slow grind going. One hand stays gripping your hip, the other slides up to cup your breast through your t-shirt, thumb brushing your nipple almost absentmindedly, like even his hands are running out of energy but he refuses to stop touching you. He’s so vocal, whimpering your name, telling you how perfect you feel, how much he needs you.

You can feel him getting closer, his thrusts losing their steadiness, becoming a little more desperate. “I’m so close,” he whines against your mouth. “Come with me, baby. Please. Wanna feel you come around me.”

One of his hands slips between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow circles. The combination of his cock dragging deep inside you, his fingers, his soft sleepy moans, pushes you over the edge first. You clench around him hard, crying out his name as pleasure crashes through you.

Jude follows right after with a broken groan, burying his face in your neck as he comes deep inside you, hips stuttering. “Fuck— love you, love you so much,” he mumbles against your skin, trembling through it.

Afterwards he collapses on top of you, heavy and warm, still buried inside. His arms wrap around you tightly, face tucked into your neck as he catches his breath. Soft kisses press against your shoulder, lazy and sweet.

“Best recovery ever,” he murmurs with a tired little laugh, voice muffled. “But I’m never moving ever again.”

You run your fingers down the muscles of his back, smiling as both of your breathing starts to even out, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion. You kiss his temple, open your mouth to respond, but he's snoring softly before you can even reply.

“you know…” hyunjin stumbled over his words and gave up on continuing a sentence.

“mhm?” the alcohol flowing down your throat burned, but you just loved that feeling - mushy brain, thoughts not forming into one. “know what?”

“nevermind. we’re both drunk, i don’t think it’s time to share shit like that.” he shook his head.

the sound of blasting music downstairs was giving you a sort of comfort. for some reason, it felt so cozy sitting here with hyunjin while a bunch of people were losing their minds just below you.

“no-no, tell me. now is the perfect time to share what’s on your mind, jinnie.” you put a hand in his shoulder in assurance. “c’mon. take another shot for confidence, if you need.”

and he did. it was honestly impressive how two of you managed to drain half the bottle already.

you had run out of lemons a long time ago, so now there was only pure alcohol and some pinches of salt in your veins.

you could swear you weren’t an alcoholic.

“i think i’m bi.” hyunjin said so suddenly, you almost choked on a shot you were about to take. “i’ve been having these thought for a while, but the more i think about it, the more i’m sure.”

“oh! that’s great, jinnie! i’m so proud of you, thank you for telling me.” you were a little taken aback from the sudden confession. no one ever came out to you before, so you couldn’t quite figure out what to say and how to comfort him. not forgetting the fact that you were still drunk.

“yeah… like every time i think of blowing a guy, i just get an instant boner. is that normal?”

nevermind. you were not drunk anymore. with eyes widened, you looked over at your best friend, who was sitting next to you with the booziest expression on his face.

you figured that he was just saying what he was thinking at the moment, not giving it much of a thought. but the wording that he chose made your mind clear in a matter of seconds.

and hyunjin didn’t stop.

“it’s just… i don’t know if you get it, but i need to get my mouth stuffed with cock. i want to choke on it, gag cause it hit the back of my throat.”

“that’s called being horny and touch-starved, jinnie.” you tried to laugh it off while your pussy started to pulsate in your panties. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t touch-starved yourself. and the staggering speech hyunjin just gave made your panties start to soak through.

“i know. but like i also had a quickie with a girl from my class last week and then i realized that deep down i desperately want a guy touch my dick. i just wanna know how it’d feel….” he sighed in frustration, settling comfier on the floor.

hyunjin closed his eyes, while those filthy words kept coming out of his mouth. the room seemed to float around him like a boat, and his voice was raspy and quiet. he was drunk. so drunk, but you did not dare to stop him. you knew it was wrong and could potentially ruin your friendship. but... you couldn't help it. hearing hyunjin talk like that made a knot in your stomach tighten even more. he sounded so hot, even if it was because he was thinking of a guy.

you decided that wouldn't do anything until hyunjin stops himself. god, you felt like a pervert, listening to him in such state. it was supposed to be private and intimate information. you’ve never shared something like this with each other. you had to stop him. you needed to stop him.

“jinnie-“

“and then i'd ask him to cover my nose while he holds his cock in my mouth. and-“ his hand was already dipping past the waistband, halting at the bottom of his stomach.

should you stop watching? keep watching?

“hyunjin!”

he finally snapped out and looked at you. the sight of you with your mouth open made him chuckle. “sorry. shit! sorry- i guess i am too drunk and horny.”

strained silence settled in the room for a while. it was for the best. it was morally correct to stop him. of course, friends shouldn’t discuss something like that and he was about to touch himself in front of you.

the thoughts were spinning in your head as you kept fighting with your drunk brain. but at the end… it won.

“how often do you jerk off to these thoughts?” you said quietly as you stared at hyunjin in curiosity. “of a guy touching you-“

he glared at you pointedly. "does it matter?”

“well… just wanna make sure that you know what feels good for you, before you have a quickie with a guy-”

hyunjin’s eyes snapped wide open as your face flushed red, as if you hadn't meant to voice out your previous statement so blatantly.

“you wanna see me jerk off? is that what you’re saying?” he kept looking at you, studying your embarrassed face with his dark eyes. it was so unexpected from you. but something about the thrill of touching himself in front of you... made him so fucking horny.

after receiving a nod from you, slowly, his hand slid back to his waistband, but didn’t stop now. then he pulled the pants down just enough to expose his underwear and grinded his hand over his hardening dick. the rough material rubbed against his sensitive head, making him sob quietly. a little wet spot where his cock was tenting the material could already be seen. it was almost embarrassing how quickly he got hard.

as soon as him palm fully covered his groin, he let out a loud groan and bit his lip to silence himself. even though the music was still blasting downstairs and constant chatter could be heard down the corridor, hyunjin was worried that someone would hear him.

“don’t stop… please-” you spoke; voice muffled out of embarrassment. “i like the noises you make.” 

hyunjin didn’t even have time to be embarrassed because the urge to touch himself was stronger. he repeated the movement with his palm, a soft whimper leaving his lips. in his head, he heard a man’s voice teasing him, cooing over his inability to temper the moans, offering to shut him up with a cock.

the cool air wrapped around the flesh as he finally freed it out of the boxers. his dick immediately fell back against his lower stomach, making you choke on your spit. you’ve never thought you see your best friend’s dick. but there it was - hard and already leaking with precum.

unexpectedly, hyunjin spit on his palm and grabbed his dick roughly. the dirtiness of the act turned you on even more. he savoured that first proper stroke, the shift from teasing to gratification. his mind, already slow and quiet, emptied altogether. he started slow, not allowing himself the full pleasure. precum dripped out of his cock, and he opened his eyes for a second to see how it smeared between the pads of his fingers. the slow moves of his fist united with the slick sounds of saliva and precum spreading all over his length.

you couldn’t keep you eyes off hyunjin. his hands, his throbbing dick, the soft moans leaving his parted lips…

"AH that's so good... that feels so good- FUCK!" he moaned, hips jerking up frantically.

“what are you thinking about?” you asked, fighting with the urge to touch yourself too.

hyunjin answered immediately, ignoring how embarrassed and dirty it made him feel. “there is… a guy on campus. we hanged out a couple of times. and all i could think about is the outline of his dick in his pants. fuck!” he squeezed himself harder at the memory. “everytime he turned away i stared at it like a pervert. i was just trying to not bust in my pants the entire time.”

you quietly laughed at his confession, but continued to play along. “does he have a big cock?”

“oh my god YES! i would give anything to be able to see it- to touch it- to have it on my tongue-“ he moaned pathetically, moving his fist faster. the thoughts made him even more desperate.

“okay, i want you to think about him, jinnie. can you do that for me?”

hyunjin nodded frantically.

“imagine as his hands would slide up your thighs…” with that, your moved your palms in said direction. “then he would touch your hard cock and tell you how pathetic you look right now.”

the desperate moan left hyunjin’s lips as your hand captured his throbbing shaft. you pumped it a couple of times and spread the wetness and a new portion of precum with your thumb down his shaft.

“he’d start jerking you off fast, making you squirm from his touch.” the movements of your hand became rougher. “he would see how close you are. the flush on your neck… your cheeks… the way your breath hitches when he touches you.“

the breath stuck in hyunjin’s throat. he refused, he didn't want to accept the situation. but most of all, he was afraid that he would regret it in the morning, when the drunkenness would pass and only the bitterness of the alcohol would remain on his tongue.

the movement of your hand brought him back to reality. he no longer held back the sounds, moans becoming shamelessly louder.

you were panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. unable to restrain any longer, you finally started to rub yourself over your underwear. gosh… the amount of arousal you could feel was making the pads of your fingers wet. you were absolutely drenched and soaked down there. and that happened because of hyunjin - your best friend.

you focused on pumping his dick with your other hand and finally slid your fingers into your underwear to circle your clit. the amount of wetness that you smeared on the folds only increased the sensitivity.

you didn't even notice how hyunjin opened his eyes and was staring at you, studying how you were running your fingers inside your underwear, how your eyes closed with pleasure. he groaned and his dick twitched in your hand harder.

“fuck- you look so hot like this.” hyunjin choked out, breathing heavily through the nose.

his gaze only confused you even more, so you mumbled softly in response. “close your eyes again, jinnie. ‘m close.”

he obeyed, letting you work closer to your release on your own. two of you got worked up so quickly, even though just recently you discussed the topic of how hard it is to take exams.

the rush of pleasure hit you fast and heavy. your back arched and you mouth opened in a silent scream. thankfully, hyunjin’s eyes were closed, so he didn’t see your cumming face. at least that’s what you thought.

when you opened your eyes after you came, the sudden idea popped up in your mind.

“open your mouth, jinnie.” you whispered.

he complied and you put your fingers in his mouth experimentally and.. oh god. hyunjin started sucking on them harshly, tasting off your arousal. he slid his tongue on your digits, making them slick with his saliva. his eyes were still shut and you could swear he was imagining a dick instead of your fingers.

unexpectedly, even to yourself, you moved your other hand from the dick to his nose, blocking the breathing.

hyunjin’s eyes widened in surprise at first, but gradually turned into satisfaction. he closed his eyes again, sucking on your fingers even harder than before.

“look at you. so pathetic. are you getting off to this?” you spat out, stuffing your fingers further in his mouth.

he choked slightly, mostly because of the suddeness. muffled moans became louder. the abandoned cock was still standing in the air, new trickles of precum slowly continued to leak from the head.

“hAHHH!” he stammered when you finally took your fingers off his nose, tongue slurring over your fingers still in his mouth. “s-so good! so- good…”

his exhausted fucked out face only turned up the heat. returning your wet fingers to your underwear and collecting the remaining juices from your folds, you repeated the process, blocking his access to oxygen and thrusting your fingers into his mouth. hyunjin only mumbled something in pleasure, sucking on every millimeter of skin.

this time you held your fingers a little longer, but it only aroused him more. once you removed them, he took a deep breath in his chest and took a quick look at his dick. but it was enough for you to realize that he craved your touch down there.

“wanna cum, jinnie?” you cooed, gently running your hand through the veins on his neck, sending goosebumps all over his skin.

“yes-yes, please-“ he choked out, even though you only caressed the skin on his neck.

you brought your hand back to his wet shaft. it didn’t take even a couple of pumps from you to feel the load of sperm falling on your wrist. it was sticky and wet, but so unbelievably hot to feel his cum on your skin.

“i guess… now you know what you like, jinnie.” you said, licking off the droplets off your hand.

-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡

masterlist | taglist

It’s been a little under a week since Hyunjin has last cum.

A little under a week because of loads of things.

Because you’ve been busy with work. Because he’s been busy with work. Because neither of you have just had time and whenever you did, it seemed that you were never really in the right mood: wanting to spend quality time with him and cuddle and coddle him-with clothes on.

And he supposed he could respect that.

But only because he loved you.

He hadn’t cum in a few weeks because of those things. Normal things, y’know?

Oh, and there was also one more tiny little reason, that wasn’t all that important. Because Hyunjin had apologized and felt bad and grovelled, and well, he still got a punishment out of it-but it wasn’t a huge deal.

No, of course not.

It had a little to do with a few things. Y’know, tons of things, loads of things he could barely control, that honestly didn’t deserve this kind of punishment. 

Y'know, you were in a bad mood when you gave him this sort of punishment because now you’d surely be level-headed enough to realize that really, he didn’t deserve this.

Surely, you’d been more angry than normal because you were pent up too, after not getting to ruin your pretty little good boy after so long, or maybe it was that asshole at work that you’d complained about a few times, or maybe you were just stressed.

Or maybe it was because of you, a small voice in his head that sounded eerily similar to you reminded him, of exactly what he did to get in his situation.

How you’d invited him to an important work event, with a bunch of important executives and other people, it was all a snooze, really. 

Boring old people that could drop a thousand dollar bill on the floor and not be bothered to pick it up; rich assholes with sticks up their asses and snotty looks on their faces, somehow thinking that they deserved to look you up and down like you were a piece of meat and not someone with a heart and feelings and a high enough position that could probably fire them.

There was also your stupid boss that kept pulling you away from Hyunjin, glaring at him as if he were the dirt under his ridiculously expensive shoes.

All in all, Hyunjin had millions of reasons to act out.

But you’d told him to behave, to be respectful because your boss was there and a few other higher ups that weren’t very many but could essentially could ruin your whole career and that were all easily offended enough to do it with the slightest thing not to their standard.

And yes, of course he cared about all of those things-of course he did, how could he not? Your career was greatly important to you. And if something was important to you, it was absolutely important to him.

But…wasn’t he important to you too?

Your sweet, pretty, perfect boy? Your Jinnie?

Wasn’t he important to you?

Because on that very day, when he was getting out of the shower-the one that he was taking for your very super special job event, you’d teased him and by doing that-I mean, you were just asking for him to act out at this thing.

He’d come out of the bathroom, steam rising out of the doorframe, a towel hanging haphazardly and low on his hips, you seemingly couldn’t control yourself.

So really, who’s fault was it really?

Your's Hyunjin, that annoying little voice reminded him once again.

You’d eyed him up and down, nearly drooling at the sight of him, hands aching to touch him; after all-it had been so long, hadn’t it? 

How were you supposed to keep your hands off him?

When he came out of that bathroom looking so very, very sexy? Water dripping from his hair and down his lithe body. His smooth skin just begging to be marked and claimed by you and that damn towel. 

Jesus Christ, that towel.

Really, how were you supposed resist?

And he certainly wasn’t complaining as he was shoved down onto your bed, your tongue already down his throat, hands already pushing away that towel by the time his body hit the mattress.

You heard no protests.

Not a single peep, only muffled groans and needy whines between kisses, egging you on further to run your hands all over his body, relishing in the way he shivered and moaned so wantonly, so desperately.

You’d kissed him breathless, kissed him raw and deep and hard, like you were starved and he was salvation. 

You kissed him until his breath ran out and yours did too and he began to feel lightheaded.

His lungs screamed for air as he panted, trying to catch up with his thrumming heart until he jolted at the feel of your lips on his chest.

“Lay back baby, let me take care of you,” was all you said, trailing lower and lower down his abdomen, tracing a trail of water that had made its way all the way down. 

Lower and lower still, licking over his v-line, smirking as his hands came to grasp at your hair-not controlling-you’d never allow that but simply resting against your scalp.

He’d whimpered and writhed, begged for more-for anything more as you swirled your tongue around his tip, hand pumping along the base of his dick.

“Such a needy little thing for me, aren’t you, baby?”

Yes, he wanted to scream. Yes, for you. 

His tongue numb in his mouth, his hands frozen and tense, trying their very best not to shove his cock down your throat.

You’d looked up at him with such a tantalizing look in your eye, promising pleasure or pain or a little bit of both that he would gladly welcome in return for your touch.

Your smile was sly as you took him into your mouth again and again, pulling off right as he was on the brink, driving him certifiably and definitely, maddeningly insane.

“Aww, you’re so cute. So adorable when you’re all dumb for me.”

As per your words, he’d nodded dumbly, how could he not? Because really, in the end, that’s all he was. All he wanted to be. Only a little thing that got so hot and bother by being dumbed down to little more than a mindless toy for you.

Only a slave to the pleasure. An obedient little dog to the commands, chasing and performing and granting every order and whisper for the chance at a treat.

While his hands twitched in your hair, while his dick throbbed in your mouth, while only an endless stream on moans and pleads fell from his mouth.

“So close, p-please, ah! So-so fucking cl-close.”

“Don-don’t stop, pl-please don’t stop, nngh!”

And what had you done?

Stopped.

“W-why?” 

You’d only smiled, so sweetly, so cruelly, crooning about how cute he was all blushy and red. 

Then you’d gotten up and patted his bare chest, thumb swiping over his nipple too teasingly, lingering for a touch too long for it to be anything but purposeful.

He whimpered, trying to push up into your touch, maybe entice you to stay for just a little bit longer…just enough longer for him to cum and you to cum and perhaps a quick round two?

You hadn’t risen to the bait though, in fact, his neediness just seemed to make you more eager to deny him.

Reaching down and grabbing the towel that you had thrown there, picking it up and tossing it over his chest before crossing the room, feeling his gaze on your back all the while.

He pouted as you had found your place back at your vanity, assessing yourself in the mirror like you hadn’t almost just made him come in your mouth.

“We’re leaving in a half hour Jinnie,” Your eyes had trailed over his bare body in the mirror, eyes darkening for a moment as you practically devoured every inch of skin before just as quickly looking away, messing with your hair a little, making sure every strand misplaced in your endeavour had been fixed back into place. “So I suggest that you start getting ready.”

Hyunjin was hard and needy still throbbing for your touch, certainly less than excited to go to this event. Less than excited to have to tolerate a bunch of egotistical assholes that acted as if they were better than him.

“But-“

“-Hyunjin.” The bratty whine in his tone hardened the last of the lust that was in your eyes, leaving behind a kind of sterness that only made him twitch and bite back the moan ready on his lips. 

“Get ready.” You’d turned and walked back over to him, allowing him the last of your kindness with a gentle touch to his face, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead. “And be a good boy tonight.” You moved on just as quickly, passing him on to go into the bathroom. “Be a good boy and perhaps I’ll give you a treat tonight, okay baby?”

—-

In some world, your words, your promise might’ve been enough for him to adhere to what you told him to do. To be a good boy.

In some world knowing that if he was good, you’d reward him for it later on. Just a little puppy eager at the chance-oh it was almost enough for him to listen. For him to behave.

But he can’t help it. Can’t help the want pooling deep in his tummy, the need to let you have your way with him just as you were doing before. He didn’t care at this point anymore. 

You could edge him for hours, overstimulate him to tears, tie him up and tell him what a bad mutt he was. As long as you’d look at him with that dark predatory look in your eye, as long as you’d coo at him as if he were nothing more than a dumb puppy.

Anything at this point could satiate him.

And he had a growing problem underneath his fancy dress pants, steadily making things such as even sitting here even harder.

“Hyunjin.”

You voice snapped him out of it, looking up and out the window of the car to see that you were there. 

Already? So soon?

His eyes flickered to the time, seeing that you were fairly early, technically speaking, you didn’t have to be there for at least another half hour before you’d be seen as tardy.

“Ca-“

“Nope.” You cut him off before he could even finish the word, seeming to somehow read his mind.

“Bu-“

“Hyunjin. I said no.” Your voice was stern as you assessed your reflection in the mirror one last time, leaving any possibility until after the party only a fantasy he’d replay over and over to keep him sane throughout the night.

One of the things Hyunjin has always loved about you was how you were able to keep up with him, even maybe surpass him with your sexual desires, able to take everything he gave in stride and give some of your own as well.

Most often you were open to anything he wanted to do, seeing most things as ‘you only live once, might as well make the most of it.’ And you’d never before had any issues doing anything risky regarding the publicity of the act but he could tell you were serious this time.

If only you putting your foot down, talking to him in such a steely manner didn’t make him twitch in his pants.

“Okay.” You finally pushed your hair back, looking to him. “You ready?”

—-

No.

He wasn't ready.

He was anything but ready to be here. Around these people, shifting uncomfortably under the heavy weight of their judging gazes.

They all thought they were better than him, he knew. It was impossible not to know. Impossible to ignore with way they scrutinized him and looked him over, over his expensive clothes he bought with your money-with their boss’s money.

Hyunjin knew they were criticizing him, the way his posture was slightly slouched, the way his hair was windswept and messy because he’d decided to stick his head out the car window on the way over, wanting to feel the cool air glide over his face.

He hated this place. Hated these people.

Hated whatever image of him they had in their mind and wished that they would look at him as if he were actually a person or at least not look at him at all.

But this was for you. For the job that you loved, that you’d tell him about at the end of the day with a spark in your eye, for the pride at the work that you did. 

It was important to you. And if it was important to you, then it was important to him.

Even if he did want to rip his hair out of his own skull just to give himself some kind of sensation other than the intruding kind of eyes on him. At least you were here with him. 

He clung to you like his only lifeline in this place, his arm threaded through yours, your gentle words pointing out the most important people here, the people you needed to impress and the ones it would be best for both of you to avoid tonight. The ones that would try to make a scene and the ones that would rather not waste their precious breath.

To be honest, he wasn’t listening much to the exact words but your voice comforted him beyond belief, gave him some relief in this kind of personal hell he seemed to be trapped in.

It was him and you. You and him. Facing this together.

Until it wasn’t.

Until you were being swept away by your boss, making it very clear with the way he directly asked you, not even looking in his direction as he wondered if he could ‘borrow you for a second?’ like Hyunjin or you for that matter really had a say in the matter.

And quickly, he was left alone. 

Alone with the weight of the stares on his back, the whispers that he heard hushed whenever he turned his head. 

Really-what did you expect him to do? 

It wasn’t his fault that you’d left him all alone in this place.

Hyunjin walked over to the bar, pulling out his phone to send you a quick text on where he was before ordering something ‘strong’.

Every few minutes he’d check the time, waiting for you to come back to him. Waiting for a time that it would be appropriate to leave an event like this. 

He was a few drinks in, a bit tipsy, nothing more, when someone finally approached him.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, warm breath pressed close against his skin.

“Hey there,”

He stiffened, a kind of wrongness filling him with unease.

Not you.

“H-hey?”

He turned to see a woman holding onto him, clinging to his shoulders, very obviously drunk.

She pulled away and slunk onto the stool next to him, eyes travelling the length of his body.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, what’s your name?”

Drunken confidence or perhaps she was some other rich socialite that normally acted like this, she let a finger run slowly from his bicep to his wrist, smiling in a way that seemed to be seductive but only made that anxious knot inside of him tighten.

“Hyunjin-I, um, I’m here with-“

She shushed him, calling the bartender for another drink before turning back to him. “I don’t really care who you’re here with pretty boy.”

Her voice was slurred, her body slightly swaying as she fell into his chest, making him nearly jump out of his seat.

She was warm against him-abnormally warm like she was a living furnace. She smelled like alcohol and strong artificial perfume, making his head spin in the worst way.

From across the room Hyunjin caught your eye, you glanced from him to the woman pressed up against his chest, arms loosely thrown around his shoulders.

He watched the question in your eye turn into something colder as she nuzzled closer to him, whispering something he couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears.

‘What the hell are you doing?’, is what he got from you mouthing it from a distance. You looked kinda angry-he thought at least, still tipsy, still distracted from this woman who now asked him lazily if he wanted to dance with her.

Well he shouldn’t.

Any other time he wouldn’t.

But you look positively pissed as he takes her hand in his and helps her sit upright.

You look like you’re about to stomp across the room and press him over the bar counter right now.

In front of everyone.

In front of your rich asshole coworkers, in front of your stupid boss, in front of this woman who clings to him.

And he doesn’t think that he’d mind, or maybe that was the alcohol talking,

But all he wanted was for you to touch him-shove your fingers down his throat

You look jealous and hot and he twitches under his dress pants, his cloudy mind coming up with a bright idea he’d know if he were sober is stupid and probably childish.

But in the moment it’s his brightest idea.

His hands find their way to interlock with the woman’s, she smiles at him and he wishes it were your’s. Wishes that he wouldn’t have to go to this length for you to pay attention to him.

“Would you like to dance, milady?” She swoons at that, nodding along with a smile that makes his stomach churn uncomfortably.

She giggles as he raises an eyebrow, trying his best to smile back at her. “I would!”

And so he dances, he twirls her in his arms, he dips her and pretends she’s you, glad that this isn’t the type of outing that includes dances with any kind of grinding. Glad for once that the rich have some kind of class.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye, sneaking small looks over her shoulder as she rambles on about something or other.

You’re in a conversation with your boss and someone else he can’t identify but you’re not listening, you’re not talking or even acknowledging them.

You’re watching him.

And his heart soars at the attention.

The only attention he’s wanted all night. 

The only eyes on him that he hasn’t felt uncomfortable with. Even if it’s paired with a hot glare, burning through his skin.

If looks could kill he would be six feet under the ground.

Maybe it would’ve encouraged him to stop if it didn’t make him feel so hot. 

You’d ruin him tonight. 

You’d make him regret every little second of letting her run her hands all over his body. Every word he’d used to sweet-talk her. You’d touch him and tease him and torture him until he’d be little more than an incoherent slut for you.

And he’d love every second of it.

He’d get high off of it, drink it in like a drug. Like an addiction, a craving that he could never even fathom breaking. 

Not when it would render him so much more useless than any alcohol would. 

Not when it felt like ecstasy and euphoria in his veins. 

Not when he was so completely and utterly obsessed that he’d sink to levels this low to get you to look at him.

Someone said something. Someone close. Oh. Her. He’d nearly forgotten about her.

He hummed, tearing away from you to look down to her. “Hmm?”

She smiled somewhat awkwardly. “You’re a good dancer, you know?”

Hyunjin smiled, taking the compliment. “Thank you-and you as well.” He hadn’t forgotten all his manners after all.

“Why thank you! You know-“

“Hyunjin.” A voice snapped, cutting her off. An involuntary shiver ran down his body and he thought to be ashamed for a second before he realized that he didn’t really care.

“Yes?”

You smiled at her, then at him, trying to seem pleasant. Trying to keep up that facade you’d been wearing all night. “I’m sorry,” you didn’t sound sorry as you gripped his arm, nails digging through the fancy fabric of his shirt. “But would it be alright of I borrowed your dance partner for a bit?”

You didn’t even wait for her reply, pulling him off of her and off the dance floor before the words were even out.

Your voice was a hiss into his ear. The sound like music to his ears. “You’re fucking dead-do you hear me Hwang Hyunjin.” 

It wasn’t a question, no, not in the slightest. No. It was a threat.

—-

“Do you have anything to defend yourself?”

He was on his knees in front of you. Your hand in his hair, tugging his head up to look at you, it aches. It hurts and it feels like heaven, it’s where he belongs. 

“I’m sorry.”

He isn’t.

“Just wanted your attention.” It could be pitiful the way he says it. Voice shaking, trembling slightly. But that’s not the case.

Because his eyes are alight with glee, relentless triumph that tells you the brat got exactly what he fucking wanted.

This is what you love about him though. The push and the pull. The back and forth. It’s something new everyday. It’s a challenge and it’s fucking hot.

But not tonight.

Tonight was important. Tonight was the one night that you didn’t want this. And you’ll make him pay hell for it.

“Bull-fucking-shit, sweetheart.” Your tone is bitter, cold and there’s no taking the words any other way. 

He doesn’t want to take the words any other way. 

Your cold tone and the fury in his eyes only proves one thing-he got his way. “You wanted me to punish you-right darling?” He can’t even keep himself from nodding, admitting it all, completely transparent. 

You laugh, mean and malicious, promising him pain and pleasure and everything in between. “And guess what?” He closes his eyes as you lean down and brush a hand down his dress pants, pressing the heel of your palm against the hard-on he’s been sporting for half the night. “You’re getting exactly what you wanted.”

You suddenly tug him up by his hair and he follows like an obedient dog as you press him back, the counter of the sink digging into his back in a way that would be uncomfortable.

But he can’t think of that.

Not when you press your lips against his, quips and bratty remarks, smartass responses getting buried into the very back of his mind.

This kiss was different. Not gentle and certainly not soft. Hungry and rough, ravenous and demanding and hard. Practically devouring him, eating him alive, all tongue and teeth and lips.

You let yourself get lost in the process. In the movements. In nothing but pure unfiltered yearning and longing. 

And just for a second, only a second, you forget about tonight. Forget about the woman and your boss and these rich assholes you hate almost as much as Hyunjin but can’t do anything about.

You think about how busy you’ve been. How much you want him, how much you’ve needed him. How much you love him.

A feeling you could never begin to put into words so you pour it all into this. Into nipping and biting and turning his brain into mush.

Exactly as he wants.

For a second that’s all there is, not an ounce of anger, filled only with scorching desire.

"I want you,” he whines, hands pressing against your hips, pulling you closer, pulling you into him as you let him slide his tongue into your mouth. “I want you so bad.”

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe and his head spins and drool is covering his chin and he can’t get enough.

Of you and your lips and your touch. It’s bliss and it’s so, so much, so overwhelming. He can hardly think straight. 

You hiss out when his hands dig into your hips so hard you’re sure that it’ll leave marks. He pushes himself against you and sobs out, lips trembling, legs shaking. “Miss you-please, miss you so much.” 

You press his hair back, tucking your thumb just under his shirt, running it over his skin to soothe him, hushing him and holding him close.

He shakes, gripping onto you for dear life, burying his head into your chest like if he were to let go, like if he were to not feel you against him you’d disappear.

He mutters something you can’t hear. Low and unintelligible.

“Speak up.” You pull him back, look him in the eye.

Hyunjin looks shy, that desperate look in his eyes, his uneven breathing becoming apparent in heavy pants as he works himself up even further against your thigh. “C-can I make you feel good?”

He’d do about anything for you in this moment. He’d hang the stars in the sky and make a trip to the moon just for a little extra to see you smile. He’d do anything-anything at all, anything you wanted.

You cup his face in your hand and watch as he nuzzles into it, dumb and desperate and focused solely on you. “Only if you want to.” 

He nods and you give him the room to drop to his knees, onto the dirty public bathroom floor, where people still roam about outside.

When you turn and take up his previously place against the counter, pulling down your pants and underwear in one go he whines, a moan rumbling in the back of his throat. 

You look so good, so pretty, he nearly cums in his pants from this alone. 

Who knew you’d look so good standing above him like this? Legs spread open wide, beckoning him closer with a single finger. He flushes and scoots closer, resting his chin against your stomach. “C’mon, don’t get shy on me now Jinnie.”

That’s all the permission he needs as his hands grab at your skin, no hesitation or teasing before he’s pulling you into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

Finally.

Your moan bounces off the four walls of the venues tiled walls, echoing and leaving you glad you had locked the door when you came in.

"Shit!" You curse sharply as his tongue flicks against you.

You’d forgotten how good he is with his mouth when he’s using it for something other than trying to piss you off.

The tongue on him is like no other and you know he knows that as he licks up and down, knowing exactly where to suck and exactly where the spot is that makes you throw your head back with a groan, gasping for air.

Your thighs squeeze around his head as you groan, knuckles turning white as you grab onto the counter. “Fuck!”

He murmurs something against you that you can’t hear, something that vibrates deliciously against your sensitive skin. 

“So good, such a good boy~” You praise him and you know it does something to his head, know that it affects him when he whines, slurping obscenely before shifting closer and pulling one leg over his shoulder. 

Your other hand finds its purchase in his silky hair, digging your fingers almost painfully into his scalp, thrusting into his mouth while name after name falls from your lips.

You don’t even know what you’re saying, too absorbed in the pleasure, but he hears each one.

Hears you call him a slut and a pretty boy, your angel and your little whore, your toy, your puppy. His head swirls, as does his tongue and he knows you’re getting closer, with the way your voice grows more frantic and your hand in his hair pulls harder.

He groans and he whines and he whimpers, throbbing, so very close but he can’t touch. He won’t touch. He’s going to listen. Going to be a good boy and wait.

Not give into the urge to fuck his cock into his fist like his hand is itching to do or start thrusting against your calf like his hips are aching to.

He’s a good boy.

A good puppy.

He can listen.

And in this very moment if all you want to do is use his face like a toy, that’s all he wants to be. 

A perfect brainless toy, pleasing you, ignoring the way his body craves your touch and aching for any kind of stimulation.

All that matters are your moans, the way that you call out him name. The way that you let out a cry as you see white, thighs trembling before they clench tightly around his head, holding him in place as you pet him like he’s your favourite dog.

He better be your favourite.

You look down at him, eyes hazed, smile lazy. 

This is what he is here for. To make you feel good. To be a good puppy for you.

You let him go but he doesn’t move, clinging to your leg, pressing his forehead against your knee as he makes sure to lick up every bit of you.

“Good boy~” He shivers.

You reach down and put a single finger under his chin, pushing his face to look up at you.

His blood runs cold when he recognizes that look in your eye. 

“You were so good for me puppy, too bad,” you muse, to yourself really as you smirk down at up. “Too bad my good puppy can’t cum for another two weeks, as per his punishment.”

His eyes go wide.

He’s fucked up. 

You look sadistic, sweaty hair sticking out in odd directions but still the hottest person on the planet to him. 

“I don’t let other people play with my toys.”

Hyunjin had been staring at your hands for five minutes.

Twenty minutes ago he'd texted you, telling you he was coming home after dance practice with the rest of the group. The two of you were planning on hanging out for the day so you just waited in their dorms for him.

The apartment was quiet, missing the usual noise of the eight rowdy boys living there. It was normally a place so full of life (well, if you could call yelling, laughing and stomping around life) but now it seemed so...dead, empty. 

And you had no idea what to do so you just sat there on the couch scrolling on your phone, bored out of your mind until something caught your eye.

There was a guitar sitting in the living area, a nice one. Probably expensive but well used, it definitely wasn't brand new.

'Most likely one of the boy's' you thought, brushing your fingers over the strings. It had been a few weeks since you'd last been able to play, work and other things taking over your life.

But now-now you weren't doing anything and surely the owner of it wouldn’t mind.

Carefully you picked it up, checking to make sure it was in tune before you began to play, muscle memory taking over as your fingers glided over the frets, humming along with the melody.

It was fifteen minutes ago that Hyunjin had gotten home.

You could hear down the hall as the door unlocked and opened, his feet scuffling on the hardwood floor as he took off his shoes before wandering around the apartment for you.

All he wanted was to melt into your arms and cuddle you for the rest of the day, watch a movie or something as you played with his hair, occasionally giving a light tug to which he'd respond with a stifled groan.

Maybe you'd even give him a massage or something, his body was sore from falling earlier in-

When he finally saw you, hands tensing and flexing around the neck of the instrument; movements so precise and smooth, your head tilted down, furrowed eyebrows in concentration, he could only freeze in place.

His tongue glided across his lips, wetting them.

Your fingers were lithe and long, longer than his for sure and your nails were short, chipping black paint on them.

On a particular part of the song you were playing your hand tensed, squeezing the guitar so hard your knuckles went white, you close your eyes, humming along loudly with a content look on your face as you lost yourself in your passion.

Gulping, he couldn't help but imagine how pretty that hand would be around his throat, your passion directed toward him instead of that stupid guitar.

And god-was he now feeling jealous of a stupid instrument?

"Hey baby, how was practice? Where are the others?" You asked without looking up, missing the dumb look on his face as he blinked and shook his head, trying to shake away the feeling of arousal pooling inside of him.

“O-oh um, good? I guess. They decided to stay out for longer.” His eyes didn’t waver, never leaving your hands as he spoke, nervously shifting in place.

He could imagine the way you’d pin him down by his throat, climbing over him as you smirked down. ‘Pathetic, I haven’t even started and you’re already so hard for me.’ you’d coo. 

He’d blush and bite his lip to stop from moaning as your hands began to ghost over his body, touching all his most sensitive places until he’d buck up against you then maybe, just maybe you’d look at him with a glare and smack his thigh, warning him to be good.

“Hyunjin.”

He hadn’t realized that you stopped playing until you were calling his name, waving a hand in front of his face.

The guitar now sat back on its stand and you were in standing there in front of him, your voice demanding and eyes concerned.

“You good?”

His mouth opened, a million different things to reply with coming to mind. Things like dropping to his knees right where he was now or begging you to do anything you wanted to him just so long as you touched him.

But he didn’t get the chance to reply as you turned quickly to the kitchen. “You look sick. Here, let me get you some water.”

He blinked once, twice, trying to figure out what he should do before finally making up his mind. “No, I’m okay. Just a bit tired’s all.”

Apparently it wasn’t an option. You came back with a glass of water, lifting it to his lips, “Drink.” Without thinking he obeyed, the cool water sliding down his throat.

You watched his throat bob, adam’s apple moving as he drank the water. He looked so pretty like this, head tilted upward. You couldn’t help but imagine how it’d look if you were standing over him with his head like that.

Pulling the glass away once you deemed he’d drunk enough, you set it on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, patting beside you to signal for him to sit as well.

Cuddling into you, he relaxed as your hands found purchase in his hair you finally realized what had gotten him acting so weird. “So what’s got you all excited babyboy?”

He flushed pink, “n-nothing, it’s just...” he paused as he shifted away from you trying to adjust his pants so you wouldn’t see his raging boner before you stopped him by wrapping your hand around his wrist and pulling it away.

His heart skipped a beat as he stared at where you touched him. It wasn’t his throat you were gripping but he supposed that this could work for the time being.

“Look at me Hyunjin.” His eyes flew to yours, the hungry look in your own made something scream in the back of his head. Slowly he could feel himself breathing more heavily. “Tell me what you want baby.”

His eyes held your eyes for a moment longer before ever so slowly he took the hand that was still gripping his wrist and brought it up to his neck, eyes falling shut and mouth hanging open in bliss as you understood what he was trying to say and lightly squeezed.

And just like he’d imagined before, you pushed him back into the couch by his throat, climbing into his lap and smirking down at him. “Such a little slut aren’t you, baby? Getting all worked up from just watching me play the guitar hm? So desperate for me to choke you?”

He nodded as much as he could as you gripped him harder. “Yes! Couldn’t help it, Mistress looked so pretty playing the guitar. Couldn’t think of anything else!” He moaned lowly.

You hummed at the use of your title, feeling yourself clench around nothing. Maybe it was because he’d had a hard time at practice or because you hadn’t been intimate for the past few days but he was slipping faster than he normally did.

He brought his hand up to where you held him and placed it over yours, simply caressing your hand as he held eye contact with you. 

To say this was an irregular occurrence would be a lie. Hyunjin would often get fixated on your hands, when you wore rings or played your own guitar or pretty much anytime you did something where he could see your hands.

First he’d get all needy, sometimes bratty, then he’d beg you to choke him and majority of the time he could come untouched from your hand simply wrapped around his pretty little neck.

It was pathetic and so fucking hot whenever it did happen.

His eyes held a mischievous light, like he was trying to act tough while splayed out under you, begging you to choke him. Then he squeezed your hand, in turn making yours squeeze him harder. 

His body stuttered under you and his eyes rolled back into his head his mouth falling open to let out the most delicious mix of a sob and a whine out. “Aww, honey. I’ve barely even done anything to you?” 

Your free hand slipped under his waistband, feeling his soiled boxers, “dumb little baby can’t even hold it in long enough for me to actually touch you.”

A fake pout crossed your face as he whimpered, eyes filling with tears as he looked up in embarrassment, not so subtly bucking up against you.

This was harder than you’d ever choked him before, his face turning slightly red from lack of blood flow as you gave him a moment to come down but as you tried to pull away his grip on you tightened. 

“Please, no. Don’t let go of me.” 

You rolled your eyes and leaned down to leave a quick peck on his lips, a whimper left him as your hand retreated, moving down to the hem of his shirt to lightly tug at it. “I’m just gonna take this off for you.”

He nods quickly, sitting up as his hands move to roam your body. Up your shirt and playing with the clasp of your bra with a contained hunger, something you’d let slide this time.

Swiftly you pulled his shirt off, throwing it off somewhere in the room and your lips met his in a long awaited kiss. 

It was hungry and messy as he threw his arms around neck, pulling you impossibly closer to him, rocking against his clothed dick which was still so sensitive it made his hips jump. 

His body was so beautiful, all sharp lines and sculpted flesh. So defined and perfect. His skin ever so soft as your fingers reached down to trace his abs, goosebumps following all the places that your blunt nails travel making him shiver.

Your tongue sweeps through his mouth feeling and claiming every inch of it before pulling away just to whisper, voice hoarse and low, “Strip and wait on the bed for me.”

He’s nodding so eager and willing to please. You move off his lap, purposely shifting against his crotch to hear the stifled whine he makes. And then without a second thought he’s getting up and racing to his room.

Smirking at his eagerness you relax into the couch, pulling out your phone to let him wait for a little.

He gets so desperate when he has to wait. And so anticipation serves as your best tool.

Hyunjin is most likely laying on that bed right now, all spread out and naked, trying his hardest to be patient and not touch his weeping cock. Your cock. He’d try to remind himself while attempting to convince himself.

But in the end it was his decision that decided his fate.

Whether he waited and was ready to be rewarded for being your good boy.

Or if he didn’t and you’d spend the night teasing and roughing him up for being a little bratty whore.

Either of the thoughts is enough to almost make you moan aloud. At the end of the day you’d be more than happy to do either for him so it was his choice and his alone.

A few more minutes pass and you decide to make your way to Hyunjin’s room an lo and behold.

Pausing, you feel like you short circuit for a moment, the only thoughts you can think are mixtures of ‘he’s so pretty’ and ‘god, i want to cover every square inch of that pretty body in marks and bruises.’

It seems that he’s worked himself up alone just fine. He’s laying face down on the bed, ass up supported by his long gorgeous legs and head buried in a pillow to muffle the sounds he makes as pre-cum drips down onto the mattress beneath him. 

One of his hands is once again around his throat, the little pain slut he is and the other is knuckle deep with two fingers stretching open his ass.

He jolts and lets out a yelp as you smack his ass-hard, but that doesn’t stop the groan muffled by the pillow that follows and the way his hips move to chase your hand, already aching for you to do it again.

And so you do, three quick spanks in a row. One lands on his thigh then his right cheek and finally his left. 

You lean over him and grip his hair tightly using the leverage to lift his head from the pillow, wet spots cover the cotton, evidence of the drool and tears that run down his pretty face.

“Such a whore that you can’t even wait for Mistress, huh baby?” you coo, leaning over his body to reach his ear.

Shaky arms try to support his body but you’re sure if you let go of his hair he’d face plant back onto the pillow. 

“Please!” Back arching, his tiny waist trying to grind back up against you he begs. Tears begin to spill down his cheeks as he babbles on about how much he needs you and how he couldn’t think of anything else for the whole day.

It’s almost enough to make you crack. He’s nothing if not the prettiest beggar you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. 

Pouty plush lips and eyes looking up at you through his lashes, voice just the perfect mix of whine and whimper that makes you want to give him anything and everything his heart desires.

But you’ve been at this with him enough that you know what he wants is for you to not give him what he wants.

“And why should I do anything to you?” You begin to pull away from him before he swiftly rolls over, laying perfectly onto his back, wrapping his arms around your neck and legs around waist, holding you in place against him.

“No! Pl-please, I need you. I need you so bad! Please, I promise-I promise I’ll be a good boy for you!” Hyunjin’s face contorts into a pout with his bottom lip slightly trembling. His eyes watery and wide, begging.

He grinds up against your clothed heat, wincing at the sensitivity of his bare skin against your rough jeans but still goes on, letting the pleasure overtake the pain.

You sigh because you both know you can never resist him for very long when he gives you this look. You’d just hoped that you’d had the willpower to deny him longer.

Pulling the pillow down you move his hips up for him, maneuvering them to rest the spit soaked pillow under his lower back. Your hands knead the soft flesh of his butt, soothing the skin. 

The look on his face immediately drops-ever the brat-knowing that he’d won you over. He buries his face into your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses all over, careful not to leave any marks as you warn him not to. Moaning out soft combinations of ‘Mistress’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘jus want to feel you’ into your ear.

“Tell me what you want you greedy slut.” His hands find purchase in your hair, still clinging to you like a monkey. 

Lazily grinding up against you he mewls loudly as you add a warning tap to his thigh. Pulling away just enough to see your face he asks almost shyly (which you both know is just an act) “will you fuck me with your strap-on?”

He says it so sweetly, despite the words he’s actually saying. “Of course.”

Unwinding his arms and legs from around you, you open the bedside drawer where he keeps his assortment of toys. Ballgags, paddles, vibes, and several different sizes of dildos for you to use of him.

“Which one do you want to use?”

He shifts on the bed and looks, thinking thoughtfully before finally picking out the largest, a nine inch purple one.

He watches with eager eyes as you pull off your clothes and put on the harness, growing even harder as you stare at him with a knowing smirk while you start to strap it onto the harness before pausing, your smile growing larger with the idea that comes to mind.

Finishing, you saunter closer to him in a way that exudes confidence. In a way that would make his knees shake had he been standing up. “On your knees and open up.”

He slides onto the ground in front of you smoothly and you resist the urge to drool at the way his perfect dancer body moves. Contorting and over-exaggerating the movements in the places he knows you like.

Teasing you in the way he knows best.

The carpet soft against his knees unlike the last time you did this on the hardwood floor of your apartments kitchen. You tap the dildo against his lips, patiently waiting with a wicked gleam in your eye as he opens his mouth, eyes falling shut and tongue hanging out.

He struggles to take it all as you swiftly shove it into his mouth, almost choking. It’s girthy and he struggles to wrap his lips around the whole thing. He’s trying to and the sight is such an arousing visual, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter from simply watching

But you get impatient, then you grab him by the roots of his hair and in one quick push the whole thing goes in, nudging against the back of his throat.

He gags around it, tears welling up in his eyes. “You look so pretty struggling to suck on my cock, Jinnie.” Giving an experimental thrust he can’t help but moan at the way his scalp burns from how hard you’re gripping him.

“Makes me wish it was a real dick, just to watch your face as I cum down your throat. You’d look so pretty with it smeared all over your face after I finish, just a little cock-hungry whore all for me.” He moans at the thought, gasping for air when you pull it out so just the tip is in his mouth before thrusting in again with a renewed vigor.

His hands move to your ass, gripping it and pushing it harder and harder, making the strap lodge deep into the back of his throat. 

And fuck, he wishes it were real. He wishes that you would cum down his throat just like this, he’d swallow every drop, not wasting a single bit. 

He wishes that right when you were about to cum you’d pull out and jizz all over his face and then pull out your phone to take pictures of him all ruined with swollen lips and teary eyes. All cock-hungry and you’d tell him that; call him a cock-hungry whore for you. Maybe you’d even write the words on him, the idea could nearly make him bust alone.

He even imagines at times while you’re splitting him open with your strap that it was real and that you’d cum in him and fill him so full of your seed that his tummy would grow all heavy with your baby. 

No matter that scientifically it would never work, the idea was so hot to him. The act so hot to him that he’d gone online several times and found straps you could fill with fake cum but he’d back out before he could ever press the purchase button. He’d found himself a few times almost screaming it as he came. 

You pull out and his mouth hangs open, ready for you to go again but when you don’t his eyes fly open.

You’re looking down at him with an amused light in your eye. Hungry like your the wolf and he’s a delectable little morsel for you to eat. 

“Get on the bed.”

Nodding, he very ungracefully flopped onto the bed in his rush. A snort left you and he glared, a blush rising on his face.

All traces of laughter left the atmosphere as he bit his bottom lip, eyes hooded and his legs parted, placing the pillow under his hips. The places you spanked him were a rosy red on his pale skin and his cock leaked pre-cum aching for you to touch him.

“Fuck me?” Voice unsure and quiet, he looked slightly embarrassed about being so exposed no matter how many times you’d seen him like this (and in far more compromising positions) before.

You pressed the tip of the strap against his hole and he greedily ground against in, wiggling his hips to try in vain to slip it in as you circled. “Don’t tease me!” He whined.

Smacking his thigh, his voice went higher in pitch, his head falling back against the pillow with a shaky breath. “But you’re so pretty, baby. How can I not tease you?”

Circling a few more times around his puckered hole you decide to be merciful this time.

His breath hitches, eyes going wide as you slowly push in, a tiny whine that’s almost inaudible leaving him. 

The strap slides in easily with his spit lubricating it and him already being stretched out from playing with himself.

As you remember that you immediately push all the way in, and without giving him a second to breath or adjust, you start at an already punishing pace.

Eyes widening, he gasps out. His hands search for anything to find purchase on, finally landing on your shoulders, his blunt nails leaving scratches on your back making you hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure.

You quickly find his prostate and he lets out a whimper, long legs wrapping around your back, causing the tip to nudge harder against the spot.

“P-please. Go-go faster. Too sl-slow, faster!” He cants his hips up, trying to gain more friction but instead you smack the side of his thigh once more, leaving his flesh stinging and forcing an unholy keen from somewhere deep inside.

“A-again! Do i-it again!” He gasps out, nails digging into your back even harder now. You’re almost positive he’ll leave marks that you’ll have to be careful that your roommate won’t see but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment. 

He cries out in pleasure as you smack him twice more, one on his opposite thigh and one on his dick.

You tsk as he writhes under you, downright sinful noises falling from his lips. “Y-yes! Do it again-doitagain! Please, I need it! Please, please, please, please.” He gasps out, whines filling in the pauses of his words.

“You’re such a fucking painslut aren’t you? God, it just makes me want to ruin you.” you purr into his ear.

“Fuuck!” The word drags slowly from his mouth.

Suddenly you pause. 

Was that? No-maybe?

Hyunjin whimpers, tugging at your arms, thrusting his hips, doing anything he can to try and get your attention back on him. “Mistress, ple-ease! Fuck! Why’d you stop?”

Straining your ears, you could hear laughing and talking from the main room. 

The others were home.

A thought came to mind and you smirked, beginning to lazily move again. “Do you hear that Jin?”

With his mind all foggy and hazy, a stupid smile crossing his face at the fact that you’d continued to pleasure him, it takes him a moment to process what you’d said. “Hm?”

“Don’t you hear it? The boys are home.” You whispered into his ear, hand moving to rub his dick as you continued to thrust.

His brain felt like mush and the way that your hand slid up and down his cock easily from how much pre-cum he’d leaked felt nothing short of heaven. But he tried to push that away for the second being and listened closely to hear that in fact, they were home. 

They were talking about take-out or something, before the conversation shifted to him.

“Don’t worry so much Chan, he’s probably with (Y/N) at her apartment. He was saying today that he was going to hang out with her afterwards.” Hyunjin couldn’t decipher who’d said it but that didn’t matter as you began going harder and harder.

Stray moans left his mouth, whimpers and whines he tried to hold back but failed. You covered his mouth with your spare hand, a bruising pace set against his prostate making him shiver.

Drool covered your hand within seconds as his tongue laved against your palm putting in great effort to not scream your name so loudly that not only the boys outside would hear but the whole building.

You lean down to his ear, a flush growing where your warm breath fans across the side of his face and whisper, “Don’t make a sound, baby. Don’t want the others to know that you’re in here moaning like a whore while I fuck you, do you?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth he can feels himself getting close-so fucking close. His mouth falls open in a silent scream, bucking hips and squeezed shut eyes. “Please-please, can i cum, can I cum, can I cum!”

“You can cum whenever you need to baby.” You whisper, watching his pretty face as he is at the tip of his high, so, so close to falling.

“Mistress please cum in me, please I wanna feel you.” He whimpers softly, his head far off into that headspace that makes him feel floaty, not able to think coherently. 

It’s only sensations now. Pleasure and pain. The feel of you pressed against him. The way your hand slides up and down his dick, jerking him off. A dick lodged so deep in him and his head so far off that for a second he forgets it’s fake.

Your eyes widen, confused, but fuck, the idea of it is so hot. 

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes darken in lust, voice dropping a few octaves, low and husky in a way that makes him shiver. “You wanna have my baby?” Hand moving from his dick to his stomach, a slight bulge from your strap inside him. Pushing down lightly, he mewls. “Want me to fill you up, make me a mommy, honey?”

“Fuck, I want you to breed me, wanna have your baby. Please, please, p-”

He’s cut off as his high hits him, head on like a truck. His mouth falls open, back arching up off the bed. So far gone that it doesn’t register to him that the boys are just outside, you clamp your hand over it before he screams you name with the intensity of it. 

His vision goes white and for a second he can believe that he’s actually died from the way his body goes completely numb from the overwhelming pleasure of it all.

Trembling, little grunts and whines leaving his mouth you watch him fall apart, tensing up and then melting onto the mattress, completely boneless as he tries to catch his breath in heavy pants and and shaky sniffles.

You pull out of him slowly, a whimper leaving him as you do, hole clenching around nothing a sudden empty feeling replacing it.

He felt gross and dirty. He felt insecure and needy. He wanted you, he wanted you to smooth back his hair and tell him how good he was.

God, why was he like this?

Why did he like this kind of stuff? 

Was he not enough of a man? 

Did you think less of him for it? 

Did you wish he was more dominant, fucking into you while the others were outside, having to cover your mouth to keep you from making noises?

Why couldn’t he be that for you?

You stand up off the bed and he curls into a ball, a few small sniffles and little cries leaving him that make your heart feel heavy. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll be there in a second.” You assure him, taking off the harness and turning back to him as fast as you can.

When he feels the mattress dip behind him he rolls over to face you. His eyes are a bit watery, his sub-drops were hard and left him with an unexplainable empty feeling in his chest.

You open your arms and he curls up with you, resting his head on your chest. Pulling up the blankets around you, you look down at him “You good?”

“Do you wish that I acted more like you do while we have sex?” His voice was muffled against your chest but you heard it all the same as if he’d screamed it into your ear.

You could feel your heart crack a little. 

Pulling his head up to look at you, you stared at him, your own eyes beginning to water. “Of course not. You’re perfect.” 

One hand held the soft plush of his cheek while the other lightly scratched his scalp. 

“I love the way that you’re so needy for me. The way that you’re so willing to please me. The way that I can take care of you and make you feel good. I love that you’re submissive and that you trust me enough to share all the things that you wanna try.”

His eyes were soft, welling up with more tears. He opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off before he could start. “And most importantly I love you, every part of you, with every kink and every twisted thought in your depraved mind. You’re my pretty little baby, my good boy and I love you just the way you are. Do you understand me?”

He nods and buries his face into your soft skin again and you can feel the sensation of tears and his heated blush against you.

The feeling of your arms around him was comforting. He felt warm and safe and happy. “Love you.” He whispers, so quiet you almost miss it.

Smiling, you squeeze him just a bit harder, making him hum in appreciation. “Love you too, honey.” 

“Oh, and by the way, that ‘breed me’ thing was incredibly hot.” You stated, watching with a smirk as he pushed his face farther into your tits in embarrassment. 

“Stooop.” He whines.

“Whatever you say, baby boy.”

Twirling your fingers in his hair, he falls asleep. His breathing slows and body falls slack in your embrace.

Outside the boys all exchange glances.

They’re equal parts horrified and disgusted and slightly aroused from hearing their hyung’s muffled moans. 

“What the fu-”

Aki is not exactly the hybrid that you would think of when saying "good boy", even if he, well, was actually a boy, and sometimes he was even good, so both of these necessary conditions were met, but you were always worried that if you told him something like that, he would think about you as a pervert with strange fetishes, — if he doesn't bite off your hand for such words, he seems very wild, — so you just tried not to cross paths once again and not stare too long at his fluffy ears and long fluffy tail, which Aki waved charmingly when thinking about something.

You were just not close enough and not sure that he liked it at all, too little work experience; even when the tactics changed from "avoidance" to "cooperation", while his ears pricked up when he heard your voice or enthusiastically waved his tail when you were around, you preferred a slow pace, as if thrusting your palm to the dog and letting it sniff you before confidentially giving you a paw.

(although sometimes he almost provoked you to stroke him between fluffy ears and say that he did a great job.)

Aki was a dog who preferred when your hand was stretched out to him for sniffing before he gave you a paw — and when you roughly push into him, forcing him to cling to the balcony, hoping that no one would think to go out in the morning and look at the neighbors above, until his thoughts mix and turn into desire— need for more, harder, rougher, until his belly is full enough and his thighs are sticky with sweat and you, until his tail is restlessly rubbing and beating against you, trying to force you to drive into him all the way and ignore all the pathetic whining that he makes when it's too much for him, when he's almost choking, drooling, feeling how his body ache from the last time, — but whimpering so that you don't stop, scratching your skin with claws, blindly kissing where he can. Even when Aki cums, trying to snuggle up to you as hard as possible, breathing heavily, sticking out his tongue while you lazily push into his body for the last time before gently moving away, making his thighs become even more slippery and sticky without you preventing his excruciating emptiness.

And, perhaps, unlike him, you hope that someone will see you on an empty morning balcony and notice what a needy whining mess you can make him instead of that strict hybrid that does not allow anyone to even touch his ears or tail, let alone pull them or hold them, but while you are busy to fuck him senseless — and make him cum just from the fact that you scratch him behind the ear while make him warm you, not allowing to move even when he starts to need it.

When you tell him for the first time that 'he is a good boy' while fucking him in a dark alley after a task, being unable to tolerate his attempts to jump on you from overexcitation,

this is enough for Aki to cling to your hands with enthusiastic whining, squeezing his thighs, almost suffocating while his body trembles in your hands, — and never talk about it again, shamefacedly pressing fluffy ears to his head and growling softly when you tease, stroking and calling him a good boy, — but never tries to dodge the touch and does not tell you to stop.

Never tells you to stop.

Even when you pull the leash, pushing Aki to slightly tilt his neck back, exposing it for you, he silently obeys any of your actions and words, never questioning them and not making you to wait; treating him like your pet, hearing his stifled whining when you hold the leash tightly while he diligently licks you, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible, as much as you can get from his body, soft and accessible, too accessible when you breed him in a room in a random break in response to his provocative weakening the knot of the tie that hides the collar with your initials.

Even if Aki wasn't a pet, — wasn't a pet at all, wasn't an obedient and attention-hungry pet at all, — something about him made you whisper in his ear what a good boy he is and what a diligent puppy he is when you cum into him again, filling his stomach, making him drool and press ears to hair, pressing hand to mouth just not to get too loud, deafly realizing that now he will have to walk around like this for the rest of the day — and immediately forgetting about it when you ask who is a good boy and, having received a satisfactory answer, saying that good boys receive a reward, feeling his fluffy tail tossing from side to side. But it's really hard for you to resist him when Aki's short claws cling to you while he whines, whimpering, almost begging you not to stop and never leave him, no matter what happens, while his legs tightly wrap around your hips, almost forcing you to stay in place inside his hot sensitive body, hearing only hot breath and quiet incoherent nonsense, breaking into a squeal when you remind him how deep you are in response to his obsessive attempts to snuggle even closer, sticking to your skin, not even moving his tail in an effort to maintain a painfully close pose.

Even if Aki is constantly blushing from kisses and his hands are sweating when you take them, as if you didn't breed him in the room half an hour ago while other hunters were celebrating, hearing his hoarse encouragement not to stop and enthusiastically intoxicated words about how fucking good he feels and that nothing makes him as high as you do, the way he tries to merge into one with you every time, as if trying to wrap himself around you and stay pinned forever, always makes you feel too excited, seeing his wet eyes and ruddy red face, looking at how his hair is disheveled while his ears are constantly twitching, especially when he cums, wagging excitedly with his tail, as if persuading you to grab him and cum inside, filling his pretty belly until he carries your puppies.

You just have your own personal limits that Aki will always be able to break — just like convincing you to fuck him to the point that his brain shuts down an hour and a half before meeting others, growling that you are only his master and he is only your dog when you hold his legs apart, teasing that he always ready for you and with the same success you can just press his cheek to the floor or wall and fuck at any moment — and not hearing any refutation, even if his cheeks are burning with shame and not only with it.

You have no excuse why you're late — and no excuse about why Aki walks strangely.

Aki is so hot, so wet, so needy when his thighs are wet and sticky, when his face is constantly rosy with desire while he begs you to just fill his painfully needy body, stretch him, make him your own, until the only thing he can think about is the puppies that you put by the time his body can't be without you, breeding him during every heat and out of it, — as if the fact that he almost does not get off you is not enough for him anymore, but you can't refuse when you see him drooling, almost crying from excessive sensitivity, forcing to cum even faster, squeezing you tightly inside, but pushing his hips harder while you dig fingers into his thighs, not stopping even when Aki obediently lies under you, not moving, allowing you to handle him as you like, whining and happily wagging his tail with delight.

When you hear him begging you to breed him, drunkenly looking at you, as if intoxicated, wet and hot, reaching out to you for a kiss so unlike his usual self, that even his hungry wet kisses seem so unknown, not at all like his usual ones, but no less sweet, as if forcing you not to stop kissing him while you cum in him again and again, even when you feel that you are reaching your limit — but feel how Aki is fidgeting under you, definitely feeling that you won't be able to do more soon, but still unsatisfied and greedy for more, needing more, even if your body can't bring it to it,

it doesn't matter as long as you don't stop and leave him, don't leave him empty, don't leave him alone, keeping Aki as close as he physically can be.

Even when you lie down on your back, you can't help but help Aki gently climb onto your hips, feeling him trembling with fatigue and excitement, hearing his enthusiastically relaxed exhale when you find yourself in him again, feeling how he greedily squeezes you, not letting you slip out even though he is wet and sticky, wagging his tail and keeping his ears straight from pleasure and a sense of rightness while you fill him up, even if you can't behave with him like another canine hybrid — it's not so important when he nuzzles your neck, lazily kissing, almost singing with delight when you stroke him, soothing, making it clear that you will be in the same place when he wakes up.

But, even knowing that you will wake up with Aki enthusiastically riding on you and whining apologies mixed with gratitude, giving you a great overview of mess caused by the need to be fucked until his body is perfect for you and is completely soaked, and knowing how shamefully grateful he will be when the heat is over, looking away but for some time feeling the consequences of constant breeding, including the fact that his body will react to your presence for some time, wanting to continue breeding,

you felt too happy.