#got7 x reader

You hadn’t really known what to expect. 

In dramas, after a confession, things were usually a little awkward, shy, sweet. But the day after Jackson confessed to you, he nearly bit your hand off when you tried to steal one of his dumplings. Granted, you bit him first, but it was his job to be chivalrous, not yours. 

“Um, maybe eat your own before you try to steal mine?”

“I’m literally just a girl, Jackson.”

A few weeks after said confession, things were still mostly the same, as you were awoken by someone pinching your cheek. Bleary eyed, you squinted, looking up at a very hot, very annoyed face. 

“Where the hell is my academy sweatshirt? I’m gonna be late for my shift,” he huffed, giving you another pinch. Jackson worked part time at an MMA academy, teaching a class of young children. Unfortunately, that meant three days out of the week, he had to wake up at 7 in the morning to be ready by 8. And if he was up, so were you. 

“I dunno,” you whined groggily, rolling over. “I didn’t wear it. Promise.”

“Liar,” he accuses. 

“Mmn. ‘m not lying, check my laundry.”

You hear shuffling, the sound of your hamper being opened (filled with clean clothes, because dirty clothes go on the bathroom floor of course), and quickly tug the blanket over your head as Jackson calls your bluff. 

“At least it’s clean,” you attempt to plead your case, but the covers are yanked off. You yelp as Jackson flips you onto your back and begins to tickle you. 

“Didn’t wear it, huh? Seriously, of all my clothes?” he snarls, fingers digging into your sides. You can’t speak; you instead make animalistic noises of possession as you attempt to free yourself. You wrap your legs around his waist and shove at his chest, shouting apologies in between fits of laughter. 

At last, the tickling ends, and you all but collapse against the sheets, sprawled out like half a starfish. 

“I’m going to start charging you for the things you steal,” Jackson says, breathless himself from the efforts of torture. Only then are you made aware that his hands are on your thighs. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose, until you do, when he squeezes them beneath his palms and brushes his thumbs under your pajama shorts. 

“Hey,” you warn, wriggling beneath him. He laughs and leans over you. 

“What?”

“You know what. Get off of me.”

He sighs, letting his head drop down as though weary. 

When he looks at you again, his eyes have gone all soft, and it makes you feel warm and tingly inside. You swallow and force yourself to look away. You weren’t completely immune to his charms and didn’t want to risk it, answering the question he hadn’t asked. 

“Nope.”

That was the deal. 

Kissing was alright—as long as it wasn’t too long or too deep. Touching was fine too, just avoid any erogenous zones. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you’d placed such heavy restrictions on your…relationship? Whatever this was. Probably because at the end of the day, you were still terrified of losing him. Of crossing a bridge that crumbles behind you, never being able to return to where you were. 

Right now, the two of you could still be around your friends, could still shamelessly flirt and insist it isn’t flirting. When you’d shown up to dinner with the guys, your hand clasped in Jackson’s to test the waters, no one said a word. Youngjae crinkled his nose and said it was cringe…and that’s it. That was the only reaction. The only people surprised about this development were the two of you, apparently, mostly you. And, you hadn’t realized how horny you were for one another. 

When you’d stare at him after a shower, when he had the audacity to drink juice from the carton wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, you noticed that…you’ve always stared. That wasn’t new. It’s just that you were now aware of it, and also very aware of how it felt to see his throat working as he swallows, beads of water dripping down his chest and following the dip of his abs like a treasure map for your tongue—

But it went both ways, fortunately, as Jackson’s playful way of grabbing your waist when you were busily bent over no longer felt fun, but rather, made you want to push against him, feel his hands sliding elsewhere, because god had they always been so big? Had his fingers always been so long?

Presently, Jackson rolls his eyes and kisses your cheek. You refuse to look at him still, so he tilts down, where his lips brush your throat; when your head snaps up to scold him, he takes the opportunity to catch your lips with his, sighing as though relieved. 

Kissing him feels so normal that it’s almost painful, like every second his lips are against yours, you ask yourself why you were so stupid, why you hadn’t noticed before, why you hadn’t understood that the feelings you’ve had for him were being confused for platonic when they were much, much closer to something akin to lo—

“Mmff…ou’re ‘unna ‘ee ate,” you mumble, though Jackson doesn’t stop kissing you. You giggle as your words are slurred by his mouth, which in turn makes him smile, which in turn makes you wrap your arms around his neck and consider begging him to let the kids down just this once. 

You know he wouldn’t hesitate. So that’s why you groan and push him away. You squirm from beneath him before he can snatch you up, fixing your pajamas as though you were preparing to walk the red carpet. When you look up at Jackson, he’s on his knees on your bed, hands gripping the covers and head tilted to the side. Oh. 

“Stop looking at me like that, puppy boy,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You cross your arms, taking on the weight of the world’s strongest soldier as Jackson fucking Wang silently begs to bend you over the mattress

Jackson lets his legs slip over the side, feet planted on the floor as he tugs you toward him by the strings of your shorts. You whine in protest—losing a drawstring was so—

“I think you like it when I beg,” Jackson says, voice too low to be good for your health. You look at him in surprise, his expression hasn’t really changed, but why did he have to do this to you?

“I think you’re gonna be late,” you huff, feeling your cheeks redden. 

“I think you’re cute when you blush.”

“I think—”

“I think we’re gonna be good for each other.”

“It was my turn,” you pout. “I think you need a cold shower.”

Jackson mumbles something you don’t catch as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. His arms hang loosely around your hips, and you’re once again left with emotional whiplash as the man somehow goes from fuck me~ to hold me in the span of a few seconds. You swallow and rake your fingers through his hair (which he pulls at less nowadays, thanks to your nagging). 

“I want to,” you say quietly, nails scratching at his head. “But I’m scared. Like…we could probably bounce back from this, and from holding hands and even kissing. But I’m afraid that I’d never be able to, you know, not hurt around you the further we go if things turn out bad. We just don’t know what’ll happen if we commit. That’s scary.”

To your surprise, Jackson squeezes you tighter. He tilts his head back to look up at you, his chin resting just above your belly button. 

“What is it gonna take, pie?” he asks softly. Your brows furrow, though he continues. “What’s it gonna take for you to realize I’ve been yours this entire time?”

Your breath catches in your throat; you know he can feel it from the way your stomach tightens. He noses at the material of your top, planting a kiss there. Then the bastard opens his mouth again. You can taste his words.

“You own me, baby.”

You wake up confused and sweaty, fumbling around for your phone. You grab the device and groan—it’s not even five in the morning, and it’s a saturday. 

The dream woke you up. You and Jackson had an idea to conserve water, apparently, sharing a shower too small for one person let alone two. Your brain filled in the blanks for the missing information, unfortunately for you, though you had no doubt he was as beautiful in this reality, too.

It was almost impossible for you to go back to sleep after waking up usually, so you throw the covers off with much more attitude than necessary before quietly stepping out of your room. The light beneath Jackson’s door is off, and you tiptoe down the hall, but when you round the corner to the kitchen you gasp in surprise. 

Jackson raises a brow at you, taking a sip from the bottle of water in his hand. He’s wearing nothing but black boxers, showing off the lean muscles he works so hard on. So very hard. 

“You’re up?” he asks, and by his raspy tone it’s clear he woke up not long before you. You nod and shrug for no reason at all other than to distract from the fact that your eyes are eating him alive. He has the sexiest bedhead, and the thin chain he wears glints as it drapes over his collar bones.

“Thirsty,” you lie. You move past him to reach the fridge, but an arm hooks around your waist. You inhale sharply as you’re tugged against his chest, the warmth of him shooting tingles down your back. You swallow, and he holds the bottle in front of you. 

“Here,” he mumbles. He sounds so casual, like his actions hadn’t just made your soul briefly leave your physical form. You take the water from him and tilt your head back for a sip, not having realized how thirsty you were until you’ve finished half of it. 

You turn around, though he doesn’t release you, so you remain pressed to his bare chest. You have no idea why, but you lean forward and kiss him just below his collar bone, realizing too late how cruel you were being. In an attempt to make it chaste, you kiss the other side, right above his heart, though Jackson’s hand flies to your hair. He cups the back of your head and refuses to let you move. 

“Jackson,” you protest, but he whines. 

He fucking. Whines. 

“Please, pie. Just keep your lips on me. Please,” he breathes. You exhale a shaky breath and nod. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, and you swear he sighs with relief. You watch his face, tilting in again and pressing another kiss to the same spot as before. Jackson nods, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. 

You kiss the center of his chest, lips dragging over his skin to his left pec. When you move a tad bit lower, this time where his heart beats, he hisses and tightens his grip in your hair. You gasp for all the right reasons, though he doesn’t know that.  

“Fuck, sorry,” he whispers as though the two of you are sneaking around rather than doing…whatever this was in the middle of your shared kitchen. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you giggle softly. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

Jackson looks down at you, his expression morphing completely into…calmness? But it still puts you on edge. 

“What’d I say?” you ask with a frown. 

“I haven’t had sex in almost a year,” he admits. 

You blink. 

“You…what?” you breathe, shaking your head. “But, you’ve had tinder…you’ve gone on dates.”

Jackson pulls you close again, silently asking for more kisses. You realize he might’ve been right…you like when he begs. You kiss him as he asks, this time close to his nipple, and he shudders.

“I’m not gonna fuck a girl who wants more than I can give her,” he says. You mouth over his skin, tongue reaching the edge of his areola. You like his answer. 

“Why can’t you give her what she wants?” you ask, knowing what he’ll say but wanting to hear it all the same. Jackson knows this too, but he’s more than happy to give you what you want. 

“Because she—fuck—”

Your tongue lathes over his nipple and he grips the counter tight. 

“—’cause she’s not you,” he finishes. “None of them are. Can’t be anything for anyone except you. Wanna…wanna be everything to you.”

“You are…you are…” you mumble carelessly, barely kissing him, but rather rubbing your mouth on his chest. He seems more than okay with that, his head falling back, though he shakes it. 

“I’m not, baby. I’ve got so much to give you, gonna show you what it’s like to be loved right, fucked right, needed right. I need you, y/n. I-I fucking need you so bad. Always have.”

You were supposed to be turning him on, not getting choked up, but you pulled back and covered your face. Jackson was still a little breathless and out of it, but he grabbed at your wrists.

“Sorry, fuck, was that…was that bad? I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, wiping helplessly at tears that slide down your cheeks. Jackson pulls you forward, crushing you to his chest. He wraps both arms around you so tight you can barely breathe. You love it. 

What else do you love?

You love that you can feel his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh, that you can feel how much he wants from you. You swallow your tears and reach between you, your palm finding the thick outline beneath his boxers and squeezing. 

Jackson’s reaction is visceral and downright sinful. He jumps, then buries his face into your hair. 

“Again, p-please,” he mumbles. You do it again. There’s a weird mix between sadness and horniness between you, but you keep going, sliding your hand up and down his clothed length. He’s definitely thick and a little longer than average, but not frighteningly so. 

Thick enough to make you choke, but not enough to bruise your cervix. Perfect. Somehow, you think you know exactly what it feels like to be fucked by him. 

“Jesus fuck—I don’t care if I get to fuck you, just please…let me taste you, baby,” Jackson grunts, hips lazily bucking against you. 

That…sounds alright with you. You take your hand off his cock and grab his wrist to pull him to his room, but he twists you around so that your back is to the counter. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, but the words die on your tongue when he drops to his knees. 

“J-Jackson, you don’t have t-to…”

“Shh, baby,” he mumbles, cupping the backs of your thighs. You feel dumb, forgetting how to speak. “Let me make you feel good. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make when you play with yourself.”

Your cheeks flush pink, Jackson’s words hardly registering in your brain. He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your pajama shorts, leaning forward to kiss the front of your thigh before he begins tugging them down. 

“W-What do you mean when I pla—oh…”

Jackson doesn’t hesitate, going face first between your legs and groaning. The vibrations ring through your inner thighs and go straight to your clit, nearly sending you down. He hadn’t even touched you properly yet. 

“If you tell me you didn’t want me to hear you fucking yourself, I’m gonna call you a liar,” he whispers. His lips graze over the hair you keep trimmed—you could be a little self conscious about that at times, a couple past partners even commenting on it, but Jackson is worshipping your pussy without words and you’ve never felt so perfectly adequate. 

You think over what he said once you regain a little bit of consciousness. And fuck.

You were tired of this sort of hindsight ability you had now, the way you felt when you thought back to the times you were so obviously head over heels in love with him and had convinced yourself you were friends. 

Like fucking yourself with your favorite toy, back to the wall splitting your rooms. Moaning loud even though you didn’t do that when he wasn’t home.

“S-Sorry,” you whimper, because what the fuck else are you supposed to say? You feel warmth as Jackson breathes a laugh against your thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin near your labia. 

“It’s okay, baby. Just do it again for me, hm? While I’m in the same room at least?”

Did he have to be such a fucking brat? You thought “pie” and his attitude would disappear after all of this, but you were sorely mistaken. You opened your mouth to complain.

Jackson pushed your thighs open wider, settling between them and looking up at you from his knees. You squeaked, and the last thing you saw before his face disappeared was that smug grin underneath his pretty brown eyes. 

You learned two lessons very quickly. One: 

Jackson Wang ate pussy like his life depended on it. 

And two, you were immediately jealous of any woman who’d ever had him like this, on his knees between their legs. This should be illegal. 

His tongue slid between your tender pussy lips, expertly finding your clit and daring to flick at it beneath the hood. Your knees did buckle, but he hugged your thighs and kept you upright, taking the opportunity to squeeze and knead at your ass. You reached down and gripped his hair for purchase, tugging, eliciting a groan from him that felt better than any dick you’d ever had. You did it again, and this time he practically sang praises into you—he was literally fucking you with his moans. 

“Jesus fuck, Jackson?” you ask, unable to do much else other than feel and squeak out your needs. His fingers dug into the plushness of your thighs, though one hand slipped beneath your shirt. His thumb grazed over your nipple before gently pinching it, and you were ready to die. 

When he sucked the tender flesh of your clit into his mouth, you stumbled forward, nearly sending him back until he caught you by the waist. You whimper and tug at him to let you go until finally, he pulls away from your cunt, looking far too pleased with shiny lips. He licks them and you fall into his lap, shuddering as you cling to him. 

“That bad, huh? Should I keep my day job?” He teases you gently, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other hugs you tighter. You can still feel his cock straining against his boxers, nearly perfectly aligned as it presses against your ass. 

“S-Shut up, a-asshole,” you stammer out, gripping his shoulders tightly for comfort—or maybe dear life. Jackson chuckles in a way that makes you feel safe and annoyed—because how can he send you to fucking space and then try to convince you it’s all good and dandy with the same mouth?

“You okay baby?” he asks softly. When you nod, he pulls back enough to kiss your temple, though keeps his lips there. You swallow, having a feeling that he wasn’t done with you. Not even close.

“Was it good?” he asks.

“Very c-classy,” you manage to huff, but Jackson only laughs. 

“Mmm. Knew you’d taste good. Knew you’d love me on my knees,” he hums. You shiver, and he moves to your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Knew you’d look so pretty while I eat it.”

You let out a soft whine, your hips rolling into his. You’re spreading your sticky juices along his clothed cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he grabs your waist and bites his lower lip. 

“Are you done? Hm? Or can I take you to my room and finish you off?” Jackson asks, tilting his head to kiss below your ear. “Lay you down and hold you open until that pretty clit is nice and swollen…”

“F-Fuck,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “N-No.”

“M’kay, need me to run you a bath then? I bought some new bath bombs—”

“No I meant…” you breathe, letting your head drop to his shoulder. You were dizzy, but your thoughts had never been more clear. Not necessarily a decision out of desperation, just…it needed to happen. You needed it. 

“I-I don’t want you to eat me out, Jackson,” you say as you swallow. 

You lift your head, relieved to see there’s no frustration in his gaze, no disappointment. God, he’s really just here to make sure you’re happy, safe, comfortable. 

“I want…I want you to fuck me.”

“Why are we in your room?”

“My bed is bigger.”

“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”

“I don’t know, pie. When’s the last time you washed my sheets?”

You crinkle your nose, but Jackson just rolls his eyes. He drags you onto the bed with him, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it in your face. You sniff, your eyes immediately narrowing. 

“Have you seriously been washing your bedding regularly now under the implication that we’d fuck soon?” you hiss, sitting up to glare at him. He was sprawled out, looking much too happy for your liking.

“Yes,” he says gleefully. You grab the pillow and make an attempt to suffocate him, but he doesn’t fight back, and that’s not very fun. 

Oh yeah! You’re also only wearing his a t-shirt, and he’s only wearing boxers, and his cock is very hard and you’d very much like to put it in your mouth now that you’ve recovered somewhat from his tongue.

“You’re such a boy,” you groan, throwing the pillow back to the headboard. Jackson nods, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah. Take this off and sit on my face please,” he hums, lying back as though preparing to be sacrificed to the thigh smothering gods. 

“How romantic,” you scoff. 

“Come sit on my face so I can make you cry the only way a man should make a woman cry, please~”

“Better.”

With the back and forth out of the way, you can’t bring yourself to smile, pulling your knees to your chest. Jackson sits up, reaching out to take one of your hands in his large one. 

“Hey, no expectations, remember? You wanna stop right now, we’ll stop and never do anything like this again. You want me to finish you off, that’s fine too,” he says, thumb brushing the back of your knuckles. You shake your head. 

“No. I think…I think we should. We need to, I mean, otherwise we’re gonna be in limbo forever. But…” you pause, feeling your eyes burn a little damn it. When you look up at him, his boyish charm is gone, replaced completely by a concerned man who almost looks in love with you. 

“Hm? What is it, pie?” he asks, coaxing you gently. Ugh—why did sex have to be so god damn complicated?

“Promise me,” you say, biting your lower lip as you gather your words. “Promise me if we hate it, if it’s bad, just…stay with me? Like, forever? Please don’t move out? I mean if you have to get married just try to find someone who’s nice enough to let me stay? I’ll do the laundry. We can be like a throuple except you both just have to feed me and nothing else.”

“I love you, y/n.”

“Nevermind, let’s just do it.”

Jackson laughed as you flopped onto your back, though he leaned over you and caught your chin in his hand. You avoided looking at him, but he tilted your head down and pressed his forehead to yours to prevent you from escaping his eyes.

“I know you’re allergic to that word—”

“I am not—”

“But I love you. I love y/n and I love pie and I love the girl who thinks ‘coinkydink’ is an appropriate alternative for ‘coincidence’—”

“It is but okay—”

Jackson rolls his eyes, cupping your cheek under the romantic guise of making you shut up by pressing his thumb to your lips. 

“Do you know why I want to fuck you?” he asks, his voice oddly gentle for such an erotic question. You blink, he lifts his thumb. 

“Um, ‘cause I’m hot?” you offer with a shrug. His thumb goes back to your lips. 

“Yes, but the truth? I want to make love to you but I assumed your reaction to that phrasing would be…”

Jackson lifts his thumb. 

“Cringe?” 

“Correct,” he smiles. “I’m gonna do what I can so the next man you meet has to climb to fucking heaven to reach the lowest bar for you. I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’ll be damned if you leave my bed able to call your best friend and complain that your inner thigh got more action than you did.”

You pout and push his hand away. 

“That was one time,” you mumble. “If sex with you sucks, who am I gonna call? Yugyeom?”

“I dare you to fucking try,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. You beam, attempting to boop his nose, but he leans forward and kisses you instead. “If you leave this bed and hate me after, I’ll move out before sunset. And if you want me to l-o-v-e you for the rest of your life, I’ll do that too. I told you, pie. I’m yours.”

You kiss him this time, turning into him and cupping his jaw. Why couldn’t he see that the more of this he showed you, the less you wanted to risk it all disappearing? 

You tilt your head to the side, nuzzling your face against his throat to plant kisses there. He inhales, leg sliding between yours as a hand strokes your hair. 

“Mm…what do you want, y/n?” he asks, groaning when you suck beneath his jaw. 

“Wanna suck you off,” you mumble against his skin, relishing in the heavy groan you feel from him. “Then I want you to fuck me.”

“I can do that,” Jackson nods, licking his lips. You release him and sit up, looking over his stretched out form. He was so fucking gorgeous, and you were in his bed.

You place a hand in the center of his chest, and Jackson sits up on his elbows, his thighs parting eagerly. You giggle, gently kneeing his side. 

“Patience,” you hum, dragging your hand down to his abs, letting your fingertips dip between the muscles. You remembered all those times you fantasized about drawing your tongue against them—realizing you can. So you throw a leg over his, sliding down until you’re hovering over his thighs, face level with his hips. 

One hand rests on the elastic of his boxers while the other palms his abs. You look up at him as you drag your finger through the lines, following the shape of his muscles. He’s tense, but still coherent, so your other hand slides down to palm him again. 

Jackson curses under his breath, eyes never leaving yours. So you lean down and flatten your tongue below his navel. He gasps as you lick down the thin trail of hair that disappears beneath his boxers, kissing the sensitive skin there before moving up again. Jackson whines, and you lift a brow. 

“You’re not being very patient,” you say, kissing his stomach before licking up to his chest. Jackson’s head falls back, one hand moving to your hair. 

“It’s been almost a year, pie,” he groans. “Want this…want you…”

You giggle softly. When you palm him again, curling your fingers around his constricted length, Jackson practically flies off the bed, grabbing your wrist. 

“Baby, I will let you suck my cock until the sun explodes, just…please not now, I’m so fucking close, wanna be inside you…” he breathes. You’re surprised to see his chest flushed and heaving, not having realized how worked up he was over just a few light touches. You swallow and nod.

He smiles in relief, pulling you in for a kiss before sitting up on his knees, gently guiding you back. It’s a little jarring, suddenly being underneath your best friend, but Jackson immediately gives you gentle kisses, whispering your name and promises to make you feel good. You believe him. 

You lie there awkwardly as he reaches over you to the bedside table, removing a foil packet. You feel your cheeks redden, which makes him chuckle, and you mumble a quiet shut up. When he holds the condom packet between his teeth and thumbs the waist of his boxers, you realize that you should probably be naked, too. So you cross your arms over the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it to the side. 

The condom drops and bounces off your thigh as Jackson’s lips part in shock.

“What?” you mumble shyly, bringing your arms to your chest. He clears his throat and fumbles for the condom, shaking his head. 

“Nothing. You’re gorgeous. Knew you were, just..." he sucks in air through his teeth.

You blush harder, resisting the urge to tell him to hurry. 

Jackson manages to slide his boxers down to his thighs. His cock, once freed, smacks his toned stomach and you grip the covers at your sides as you watch an enticing bead of precum slide down the shaft. It’s exactly as you’d imagined; a little bigger than average, thick, and so beautifully veiny. God it’d feel so good on your tongue, but later. The idea that, hopefully in the future you could suck his beautiful cock whenever you wanted to, made you happier than you’d ever admit to anyone.

You watch as he rolls the condom down his length, swallowing down your doubts as he drops to his forearms on either side of you. 

“You okay?” he asks, no humor, no teasing, just genuine concern. You nod and lick your lips. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you say with a shaky breath. Jackson smiles, leaning forward until your noses bump. The action makes you giggle until you realize he’s fitting your mouths together, and suddenly he’s kissing you. 

It’s gentle and soft, his lips sucking at your lower one but moving no further than that. Your arms move to loosely hang around his shoulders, where both of his slip beneath you. You feel the head of his cock brush over your clit and jump. Jackson chuckles. It happens again, but this time, the swollen head catches against the opening between your folds, and you can already feel the stretch, wriggling your hips as if to wedge him in. 

Jackson begins to push. 

The stretch is slow, heavy, delicious, both of you releasing sounds of relief with eyes rolling back into your skulls as though you’ve both spent four years pretending you don’t want this. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he squeezes you tight beneath him as he sinks deeper and deeper. At last, his hips meet yours, and Jackson Wang, your best friend, is balls deep inside of you. You squeeze your eyes closed, overwhelmed by the sudden and intense sensations and emotions.

“Are you okay? Feels okay, baby?” he asks softly, clearly restraining himself. You nod, licking your lips. 

“Mhm. It’s good. So good,” you babble. Jackson chuckles, nodding as he kisses you again. It’s sweeter this time, moreso as he begins to slide out. The drag of his cock makes you shudder, and you clamp your thighs tight around his waist. 

“That’s it,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Lock me up inside you, baby. So fucking pretty.”

You purr in response, arching your back. Jackson takes this as a go ahead, pushing himself up to his palms as he begins to fuck you properly. 

You feel your mouth open in shock as he thrusts rhythmically, the switch between emptiness and fullness making your head spin. Every time his hips smack the backs of your thighs, another grunt escapes his mouth, and fuck if you couldn’t listen to that sound for the rest of your life. 

Jackson leans down and kisses you. This time, you make sure it’s not as sweet, sucking his tongue and letting him lick yours. You taste his groan as he bucks heavily, pausing to collect himself. Your legs hook around his waist, heel digging into his lower spine, making him moan. 

“F-Fuck baby, gonna make me come already,” he breathes, letting his head hang down. You smile, cupping his face and pulling him into you. 

“So sensitive,” you purr. Jackson huffs.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” he hums, wincing at his own sharp thrust. “Maybe I should pull out and leave that gorgeous head to wonder what it’d be like.”

“You won’t,” you reply, calling his bluff. “If I begged you, I bet you’d go raw.”

Jackson surges forward, hands moving behind your knees as he folds you nearly in half. You choke on air and look up at him, wondering why the fuck you've forced yourself to wait for this.

“You don’t have to beg for shit. Don’t fucking tempt me, y/n.”

Your mouth opens at his tone, but he begins to fuck you harder, gripping your form against him as he gives you everything he has. Your whines turn into muffled cries as he tucks your face into his shoulder. 

“Shh…let’s not let the neighbors know I’m finally inside you baby…that’s it, quietly…take it for me, yeah?” he hums, and you whimper, digging your nails into his skin. Your legs bounce uselessly where he holds them in place, giving him room to be flush against your ass each time he bottoms out. 

“Can’t wait for you to let me lick this sweet little cunt until you cry,” he murmurs, leaning back to slip a hand between you. You jump when he immediately finds your clit, index and middle finger repeatedly alternating pressure. He’s a god damned expert, and you feel yourself clenching tight around the obstruction of his cock. 

“Fuck…is that all it takes? You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice, y/n," Jackson groans. “More, baby. That’s it…fuck. So fucking good.”

“J-Jackson,” you huff, squirming beneath the pressure of his weight. “Nng…f-feels so good…”

“Yeah, princess? Just like you've dreamed about?"

Fuck. He always knew, knew you too well, were you made of glass?

"Y-yeah," you whimper, choosing not to lie. "B-Better."

Jackson kisses you again, his hand slowing its movements to match his hips. 

“Show me,” he says roughly, obviously close himself. “I wanna feel you cum, baby. Want my cock shiny and sticky like my tongue was.”

“Mm..don’t stop, ‘m close,” you breathe. You tuck your hands into his hair, tugging at the strands, knowing what kind of response you’d experience. He groans, as expected, though pulls back and pushes your thighs apart. 

He looks down at your cunt swallowing his cock whole as he rubs at your hooded clit, cursing and biting his lip. Your cheeks flush despite everything, and when his eyes flicker to your face—you’re not sure what to call that expression if not love. 

You want him to cum first. You bring his hand away from your clit and up to your lips, kissing the wet pads of his fingers before slipping them into your mouth. Jackson lets out a high pitched noise that you can’t wait to tease him over later as he watches you suck them. 

He swallows and leans forwards, pulling your fingers away from your mouth to kiss you. You think it’s an accident, the intimacy, but the kiss is soft, so soft that he stops thrusting and you stop trying to make him cum, so soft that you’re suddenly crying and hugging him and apologizing for being a fucking idiot. 

“Hey, ‘s okay baby, I’m here,” he whispers, his own eyes wet. “Stop crying, y/n. I’m right here. I’m yours. I’ll still be yours tomorrow. Shh...”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” you breathe, burying your head against his throat despite the fact that his cock is kissing the opening of your cervix currently. “I was scared, Jackson, so fucking scared, I-I think I loved you so much that I scared myself into thinking I couldn’t.”

“Huh?” he asks, knowing damn well what you said according to the stupid grin on his face. You roll your eyes, using the back of your hand to wipe at your tears. 

“I said I love you, asshole,” you whisper, sniffling. “And ‘m not gonna say it again.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, pulling your hands down to wipe your tears himself. “Fine. I’ll just memorize the way you sound when you say it and play it over and over until we live in a nursing home together."

"You roll your eyes, smiling through the teariness. Only you would cry in the middle of sex, but Jackson seemed to love this, taking it as your not-so-silent confession. 

He eventually shifts again, making you shudder despite the fact that he was only getting comfortable. He prepares to ask—you already know—want me to stop? So you shake your head before he gets the words out. 

“I want it, you know, without,” you say instead, shyly looking up at him from your elbows. Jackson looks a little confused, and you sigh, gesturing around as if that’s helpful at all. “You know. Without.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying, pie—”

“I’m saying I want you to fuck me, and then I want you to tell me you love me so I can say it back without dying, and then I want to go to the pharmacy with you and get plan b even though I’m on birth control because we’d make cute babies but I wanna wait like 10 years probably. So, like, without? If you want?”

You finish your monologue, your cheeks burning hot. You flop to your back and cover your face, once again forgetting about the cock buried inside of you. Jackson doesn’t, of course.

“Are you asking me to hit it raw—”

“Must you be so unromantic—”

“Shut up and c’mere,” he mumbles. He leans down, pulling you up enough to kiss you. You feel him shuffling between you, embarrassed by the gasp that slips out when he pulls back. Jackson smirks. There’s a snap of rubber and he winces as he removes the condom, tossing it into his desk trash can. 

“Easy, baby. He’ll be back,” he chuckles. 

“I’m actually going to kill you,” you groan. But then he’s pushing into you again, and fuck if the look on his face doesn’t make you want to buy a first class ticket to hell. 

“Fucking…jesus…baby…” he gasps. You giggle, though he just pushes you back to hide the apparent blush on his cheeks. 

“That bad huh?” you mock him, feeling him bottom out, completely. He curses and dips his head to kiss you, but it’s messy and desperate and feeds the fire that’s been burning inside of you for too long. 

“So fucking…nng…so fucking pretty,” he says with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasp, clinging to his shoulders as he leans down. He kisses you again, hard, palms flattening on the bed on either side of your hips. He uses the leverage to fuck you harder, leaning over you until you’re pinned beneath him. 

“D-Didn’t know it’d turn you into an animal,” you giggle breathlessly, hand fisting his hair. He groans and tilts his head to the side. 

“You turn me into a fucking animal, baby,” Jackson grunts. “Makes me…makes me want to do stupid things, like fuck you without a condom and cum so deep the pill doesn’t do shit to stop it—”

“Jackson—”

“You said it first. Still gonna make you swallow the pill with my cum dripping down your thighs.”

You squeak and tug him down for a filthy kiss, tongues barely missing the mark as his thrusts become loose and sloppy. He’s fucking himself dumb, gripping the sheets and whining against your mouth like a dog. 

“G-Gotta make you cum. Gotta make it good for you,” he breathes, reaching between you. You pull his hand away, shaking your head. He begins to argue but you squeeze your thighs around his waist, making him shudder and stumble. He falls against you, cursing into your hair as he continues his thrusts. 

“Want you to cum first,” you whisper, hugging him tight. “Want you to fill me up like you said, so fucking deep—"

He groans, leaning on you and thrusting heavy as he snaps his hips forward. His speed remains the same, but you can hear the sound of his hips meeting your ass like he's trying to bury himself in you indefinitely.

"T-That's...fuck..." you whimper, nodding. "Good, that's good."

“Ah…ah…” Jackson whines, shaking his head. “F-Fuck, baby…gonna cum, is that…is that okay? Fucking…ah…c-can I cum?”

Oh. Oh.

You were going to explore this later, him asking permission to cum. But not now. 

“Please, Jax. Please cum for me, in me?” you beg softly. “Promise, I’ll take it so good."

“Fuck, I know you will, princess. Know you’ll take it all so good for me…so perfect, so fucking beautiful…all mine, baby…”

Jackson clings to you so tight you have trouble breathing, but you feel him shudder, hear him gasp, and you squeeze him back just as much. He releases a sob into your hair, his muscles tensing as he cums hard. You feel his cock pulsing, the warmth spreading inside of you, and realize with a start that you’re feeling his actual cum seeping into your womb. 

You rub his back for a few minutes while he recovers, until he finally sits up and hisses at the sensitivity of his softening cock still buried in you. When he tugs away, it’s your turn to gasp, shivering at the cool emptiness you feel. 

“Was that okay?” he asks quietly, hands pushing your thighs apart. You nod. 

“Yeah, ‘s good. What are you—shit.”

Jackson knelt between your legs, lips first kissing your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. You all but scream, trying to clamp your legs together, but his easy strength prevents that. 

“F…Jackson...fuck, w-what are you doing?” you whimper again, trying to push yourself up to look at him. He uses a hand on the soft of your belly, pushing you back down. He pops off of your clit, free hand taking over the strokes. 

“My babygirl didn’t cum. I’m gonna make sure she does,” he explains as though it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“B-But you…your cum…”

“Mhm, keep reminding me,” he moans, tongue slipping beneath the hood of your clit while two long fingers prod at your sore hole. You wince, but he slowly eases them in, his own cum working as lube. Rather than move them, he holds them there, gently stroking inside of your walls while he laps freely between your labia. 

In a frighteningly short amount of time, you’re coming off the bed (literally) with a cry of surprise, mumbling his name over and over again as though he could save you from the crushing pleasure you felt. Your thighs clamped around his head, though he made no move to escape, apparently right where he wanted to be as it allowed him to continue sucking and licking the sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs trembled violently. 

It stole your breath, and you saw stars, mixed in a few moments later with a boyish grin and someone peppering your face with kisses. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, definitely if you were comparing him to other men. Well. There was no comparison. 

You could only imagine how it'd feel with his cock as deep as it was. Next time. You'd suck his cock, cum on it...maybe make him beg to do the same.

Jackson is patient enough to wait until you’ve mostly returned to your body before he smugly proclaims that he was right, the sex was great, and you owe him a backrub (don’t you usually have to make bets to win them in the first place?) but whatever, because you were fucked out and your boy was happy and probably planning your wedding. 

But once you attempted to sit up, wincing at the soreness of keeping your legs open, Jackson kissed you sweetly and urged you to lie down again. He left for a few minutes, returning with boxers (darn it) and a bottle of water, which he forced you to sip whilst he ran you a bath. 

You were helped down the hall, feeling like a frail old lady after you insisted you could do it—and had to catch yourself by the doorframe as you walked like a baby deer. You informed him it wasn’t polite to laugh at people you’ve nearly fucked to death, regretting your words immediately as a somehow cocky Jackson became even cockier. 

He guided you into the bath, telling you to relax while he ran to the pharmacy. Before he left though, he knelt beside the tub, fingers tapping at the lava-like water you were soaking in.

“Do you like the smell?” he asks, resting his chin on his fist. You nod, letting your fingers find his and trying to pull them beneath the water. He compromised by pulling yours out, kissing the back of your knuckles. “Good. It’s strawberry scented.”

“Fucking me doesn’t make my bath bombs free real estate,” you say pointedly.

“Fucking me doesn’t make my clothes free real estate.”

You open your mouth, then purse your lips. 

“Touche.”

“I have something to ask,” he sighs, resting his lips on your hand. “It’s really important.”

Oh god. What. 

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice shaky. Jackson grins. 

“Just…did you like my cream, pie?”

You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating the last hour and four years of your life. “I want a divorce.”

“I love you.”

“How…how long have you thought of that joke?” you ask. You didn’t really want to know the answer.

“Um…about 20 seconds after I called you pie for the first time? Not with you of course.”

“Well why in the god damn hell not with me!?”

“I mean? Yes with you?”

“Creep.”

“I love you.”

“I still want a divorce.”

“I still love you.”

“Nng.”

“That means I love you in worm?”

“...Yeah.”

“Heh~”

“Hey Jackson?”

“Mm?”

“Your lil sperms might be kinda fast? So like? Maybe leave now? I do love you but I will not have your babies right now?”

“Oh. Yeah. Be right back. Try not to make a baby with those in the meantime, they’re not ripe yet, you know?”

"...Hurry."

they set up a date for the next night at jackson’s apartment. “come over at nine, door will be unlocked, just walk in and get on your knees". that night yn jerked off twice thinking about it. he texted jackson back, “see you tonight daddy", at nine o’clock yn stood outside the apartment door, his heart hammering against his ribs and his cock already half hard in his jeans. he pushed it open, the place was expensive, the city lights glowing against the huge windows. yn wandered around the living room until something caught his attention.

a picture. a picture with a teenage boy with the same sharp jaw, the same cocky smirk of certain fucker, luke. yn’s stomach dropped, luke wang—his high school bully, the same luke who made his life hell for two years straight—the flashback hit him hard, memories flooded back. during freshman year, yn had just come out quietly to a couple of friends but word spread quickly on the classroom. luke and his friends cornered him in the locker room after pe classes, they shoved him against the cold metal lockers. luke laughed in his face, “look at this little fag getting hard just from us looking at him”. they yanked his shorts down in front of everyone, pointing at his half hard dick. they called him pathetic, useless, a cocksucking loser who’d never get laid and other shameful words. every day after that it got worse to the point of becoming physical in some occasions. luke always smirked like he owned the world, dad’s money, dad’s connections, he believed he was a untouchable motherfucker. yn transferred schools during senior year just to breathe again, to feel relieved and away of all those problems. finally some peace for him and his heart, he can finally rest and try to heal all those wounds. maybe some day be happy… right?

now here he was, matched with luke’s dad on a gay dating app, who would've thought?.

revenge, the word crossed his mind repeatedly. fuck luke’s dad, ruin the man who raised that piece of shit. make him pay for everything his son did. maybe… just maybe, that's the only thing he needs to heal completely, to let go of that awful past…

yn’s cock throbbed at the thought, he knew it was fucked up, but the heat in his belly won.

jackson stepped out of the kitchen in nothing but those gray sweatpants, his bare chest glistening with sweat, he was working out, that same thick cock outline pressing heavy against the fabric, he wasn't wearing any underwear under it. “took you long enough, pretty boy” jackson growled, his voice deep and low.

yn didn’t waste time. he closed the door, dropped to his knees right there in the entry and yanked the sweatpants down, the fat dick sprang out, heavy and already leaking.

he spit on it, messy strings dripping down yn’s chin every time the dick went out his mouth, then is swallowed half in one go, choking himself with it. jackson groaned in pleasure, his hand fisting yn’s hair, “fuck, that mouth is so greedy. you been thinking about this all day?”, yn moaned with every slurp, he pulled off, the spit running down his chin, then he looked up with watery glassy eyes, “you have no idea whose hole you’re about to wreck”, he smirked and didn’t explain anything, he just dove back in, sucking sloppyly and loud, his tongue swirling the head and the spit bubbling and leaking at the corners of his lips.

jackson fucked his face slow at first, then harder and faster, his balls slapping yn’s chin and making the drool pouring down yn’s neck onto his shirt, staining it.

they barely made it to the bedroom. jackson discarded yn’s clothes off, like an impatient hungry beast, he threw him face down on the king bed with his ass up. he spreaded those cheeks wide, spit a thick glob right on yn’s hole and watched it drip. “looks do fucking tight, bet no one has ruined this pretty boy pussy yet”. his tongue followed the trail left by the glob of spit, it was hot and wet, licking broad stripes and then pushing inside of the rim, eating yn out like he was starving.

yn moaned loud, pushing his ass back, his fingers gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white. jackson added two fingers and moved them fast, doing a rough scissor motion, spitting more to keep it slick, “please daddy… fuck me” yn gasped, the word daddy making the other hornier.

jackson flipped yn onto his back, hooked his legs over his shoulders, then lined up his thick cock and slammed in balls deep in one thrust. yn screamed, his eyes rolling back, the stretch burning feeling so good. jackson didn’t go slow, he pounded hard, the sweat dripping from his chest onto yn’s stomach.

the bed started rocking, jackson's balls slapped loud on yn’s ass with every thrust. “take it, take daddy’s cock like the slut you are” jackson grunted, leaning down to spit directly into yn’s open mouth. the bottom swallowed it greedily, then grabbed jackson by his neck and pulled him down for a messy, sloppy kiss.

jackson bit yn’s lip hard enough to draw a whimper out of him, then railed him deeper, making sure every inch is inside of the other. sweat poured off both of them, soaking the sheets under them, the room smelling like musk and sex, yn’s cock bouncing at the rhythm of jackson's thrusts, leaking all over his own stomach. jackson flipped him again, this time with his ass up, shoving his face into the pillow, with one hand choking the back of yn’s neck and the other slapping his ass bright red.

“gonna fill this hole up, breed you like the cumdump you are” yn pushed back, moaning, “yes daddy, cum inside me”.

knowing this was luke’s dad destroying his hole, the same bloodline that used to humiliate him now making him feel like a god, who would've thought after all that humiliation he would now be worshipped.

jackson pulled out suddenly, flipping yn onto his back again. he straddled his chest and shoved the wet cock down his throat, mercilessly. yn gagged, tears forming on the corners of his eyes, spit bubbled while he sucked like his life depended on it. jackson face fucked him hard, then pulled out and shot the first thick ropes across yn’s face, painting his lips and tongue in white. yn licked it up and moaned “more, give me more… daddy”, jackson jerked the rest onto yn’s tongue and slapped his tip on it, then pushed back in to let him suck the last drops that seeped out of the slit.

but the top wasn’t done. jackson opened yn’s legs wide and slammed back inside the cum-slick hole. he fucked using his own load as lube, making creamy sounds that filled the room. yn couldn't hold it anymore so his cock exploded untouched, shooting ropes across his chest and torso, but jackson didn't stopped, he kept going, going for a second round.

they continued for hours, like they were sex deprived for so long. jackson fucked him in every position: missionary, doggy, riding, etc., occasionally jackson would shove his fingers in alongside his cock, to stretching yn wider. jackson came again deep inside, pulling out to watch it seep out of the railed hole, then pushed it back in with his fingers. finally jackson collapsed on top of yn, both panting, tired, bodies marked and flushed.

jackson kissed yn slow and deep, savouring every bit of it. yn smiled against his mouth, whispering, “thanks for the best fuck of my life”. he has luke's dad in the palm of his hand, if this hookup comes out to the light it will probably ruin their perfect image.

the morning after the hookup, yn woke up sore, he stretched in his bed, then stayed there, staring at the ceiling while a million things happened in his head. fucking luke’s dad once wasn’t enough. it felt… good—it was incredible—but he wanted something more, something that would actually hurt luke’s perfect little life the way luke’s cruelty has hurt yn for years.

he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and saw jackson’s message “last night was insane. round two?”, yn smirked and typed back “sure daddy. but first i need to tell you something”, he then sent a second message, “meet me for coffee tomorrow?”. jackson replied almost instantly “yeah. tell me where”.

yn spent the rest of the day plotting his revenge. he didn’t want to just expose the him and watch mrs. wang cry, that was too… silly? too common.

he wanted a big scandal, something messy and public, something that would make luke see his untouchable family name dragged through filth. he remembered luke bragging back in high school about his mom being some high-profile executive, the kind who curated the perfect images for politicians and celebrities. yn could get proofs—texts, photos, perhaps even a video of jackson cheating—and when he leaked it strategically…

he could see the divorce headlines or luke’s fucking face. but he wasn’t stupid, he needed jackson hooked deeper first, addicted to him, so desperate that he keeps coming back even after the truth came out.

so he decided: more sex, make that cheating man obsessed, make him beg for his hole, then when the moment was right, yn would confess everything, watching his revenge finally accomplished.

they met at a quiet cafe, two blocks from jackson’s apartment. jackson walked in, he spotted yn and his eyes zeroed on him instantly. he slid into the booth across from him, yn leaned forward with a low voice,“last night was just the start. i want more. a lot more. but there’s something you should know first”. jackson raised an eyebrow, curious, “tell me”.

yn licked his lips, “i know who you are… i know your son. luke. he used to make my life hell in high school” he paused and swallowed, “he bullied me until i transferred schools. called me fag, humiliated me in front of everyone. i hated him… i still do” jackson’s face went still, he didn’t speak for what it seems like eternity but then he said “and you matched with me… on purpose?” to which yn nodded.

“at first it was revenge. fuck the dad of the guy who fucked my life up. but then you… you fucked me so good i-i decided i wanted to keep going”, he continued confessing, “and then i’ll tell your wife everything. send her the proofs of the affair. your perfect family cracking open, maybe she leaves you or not, we all know you rich people only care about image”, he paused again and took a sip of his drink, “maybe luke finally feels a fraction of what i felt”.

jackson stared, clenching his jaw. yn waited for anger, for him to storm out or even threatening him but instead jackson leaned in “you’re playing a dangerous game”, he said.“i know. but that makes it hot” yn replied in a whispered tone, cockily—jackson’s hand slid under the table and gripped yn’s thigh hard, “you think you can ruin me and i’ll just let you do it?”, yn chuckled, “i think you’ll let me because this…” yn reached under the table too and palmed the thick bulge in jackson’s pants, “this gets harder every time i talk about it”, jackson exhaled sharp through his nose, “fuck it, let’s get out of here”.

they barely made it back to the apartment. jackson quickly discarded his clothes and yn’s, shoved the other against the hallway wall, spat on his fingers and shoved them in without warning. yn gasped, his head hitting softly the wall. jackson growled, pumping them rough, curling the fingers to hit that sweet spot.

“thinking you can blackmail me with this tight pussy”, he said, every word laced with anger that he channelled to his fingers, obliterating the other's ass merely with his digits. “it’s not blackmail” yn panted, grinding back on the fingers. “just… motivation… for more. keep fucking me like this and maybe i will delete the screenshots i’m gonna take later”. jackson laughed, pulling his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one hard thrust.

yn cried out due to the stretch sensation, his nails scratching the wall. jackson fucked him there, standing, fast and mean with no mercy, one hand clamped over yn’s mouth to muffle his moans while the other yanked his hair back so his neck is exposed and he can bite it, “gonna mark you up, little whore”, jackson muttered.

“let luke see those bruises and make him wonder who wrecked his high school bitch”, yn came hard without being touched, spurting cum against the wall, his legs shaking while riding his high. jackson didn’t stop tho, he just kept pounding through the clench of the bottom’s hole, grunting like an animal. “that’s it, cum on daddy’s cock”.

they finally made it to the bedroom. jackson threw yn onto the mattress face down, climbed over him and pinned his wrists above his head with his big veiny hand. he fucked him slow now, his hips making a slow and sensual pace that drove yn crazy, letting yn feel every inch of that cock dragging out and slamming back in his used hole.

jackson kissed him messily, it's something normal in them now, their tongues sliding through the mess of saliva. yn swallowed it, moaned into it. jackson pulled out, flipped yn onto his back and went back in, he watched his own cock disappear into that slick, puffy hole over and over, enjoying the view and sensation, “look at your puffy pussy, i’m gonna make you walk out of here dripping so much of cum you’d stain your jeans”. he jerked yn off, matching the pace of his hand with his thrusts, his thumb smearing precum over the head, making yn arch his back, “daddy, fuck—cum in me again, fucking breed me more”. jackson slammed deep until he finally orgasmed, thick ropes flooded yn’s insides until it squelched with every small movement.

he stayed there, buried and grinding slow, pushing his seed deeper. minutes later he pulled out slow to watch the creamy load ooze out. he scooped some with two fingers and fed it to yn, yn sucked them clean, his eyes always locked on jackson’s, “good boy” jackson murmured, maintaining the eye contact, “ride me?, show me how bad you want to ruin me”, yn climbed on top, straddled him and sank down slow without hesitation until he bottomed out.

he rolled his hips, grinding, then started bouncing, his ass slapping against jackson’s thighs, jackson gripped yn’s waist to help slam him down harder and faster, hungry to feel those velvet walls wrapped around his thick lenght. yn’s cock bounced, leaking and smearing sticky trails across jackson’s abs.

jackson sucked on yn’s tongue like he was starving and bit his bottom lip. yn kept milking every inch, “you make me feel so good. i’m gonna cum again baby”. yn gasped against jackson’s mouth, “i feel so full” he moaned. “take daddy’s load” he says as he came with a guttural groan, pumping another thick round deep. yn’s orgasmed too, shooting ropes across Jackson's body and chin.

they both collapsed next to each other, panting.“you’re not getting rid of me that easy” jackson spoke, kissing yn’s sweaty temple and hugging him smaller frame.

“ruin me all you want. just keep letting me wreck this ass”.

yn smiled, lazy and satisfied, already thinking about the chaos he can unfold. but for now, he just nuzzles himself next to jackson like a cat.

Overstimulating Mingi while his arms and legs are restrained (Ateez)

Sunoo crying while you make him ride your strap, he hates having to do the work to get himself off (Enhypen)

Wonbin loves the way his latex gloves feel wrapped around his cock (Riize)

Mingyu loves sending you videos of him trying out the toys you buy him (Seventeen)

Spanking Yunho over your lap after be had been a brat all day (Ateez)

Jerking him off and playing with Doyoungs nipples (NCT)

Mark making a mess in his boxers (Got7)

Mark begging you to stop playing with his overstimulated cock (NCT)

Minghao finally agrees to be submissive for you (Seventeen)

Changbin humping your pillow because he couldn’t wait for you to come home (Stray Kids)

Teasing Soobin in public because he had been whining for your attention all evening (TXT)

Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from cumming untouched while you were helping him shave (Enhypen)

“You’re location’s on, right?” Jackson speaks up, “sorry, stupid question, of course it is - I’m on my way, give me like 4 minutes. Ok?”

You bite your lip, “ok, thank you,” you breathe out. Truthfully, you had forgotten your location share was even on. Jackson’s reminder takes you back to when he insisted you two always have location share on for each other, one of you had asked the other to do so because you were both away in different countries on holiday. It was a nice way to keep tabs on each other, whilst vacationing and just generally during busy day-to-day life. It’s the first time it’s ever come in handy for a situation like this, though.

“Keep me on the line, I’ll talk as I run,” Jackson’s voice cuts through. “Is the shop empty, is there anyone else there with you?”

“Yeah, a couple people browsing and some at the till.”

“Good.”

“Thank you, Jacks, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t pick—“

“I’ll always pick up, anyways, it’s no big deal, literally, bare minimum,” his speech comes out choppily, in staccato. You can hear his feet hitting the ground as he runs, but his breathing never hitches. “Can you hold on the line for just a minute, please? I’ll be back after,” Jackson asks.

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, staring at the paint starting to chip on your nails, and the line goes quiet.

You hadn’t met a long time ago, it had only been a few months since this housewarming party a mutual friend hosted in their fancy new apartment. There, you struck up a conversation after being introduced to each other, and you and Jackson clicked so well. Whilst being from two different worlds, you had a very corporate job whilst he lived a creative’s dream as a famous musician, you loved the same things. To an extent. And the things you didn’t share in common, had somewhat of a commonality too. He wasn’t a fan of a specific genre of film you liked, but he’d happily sit down to watch your favourite movie, without complaint.

After the first meeting went so well, you two quickly set up regular hang outs. You heard he loved a dish and wanted to try out a new recipe, so he came over for dinner. He had an event coming up, therefore he needed your expert eye on what outfit suited him and the event's dress code best. Also, it wasn't too long before your flatmate's cat fell in love with him, and you'd go on cat walks to the park together—in disguise of course.

A few minutes pass of you inspecting the bottles on display, your pretence keeping you occupied as you kept tabs on the man outside. “I’m back,” Jackson’s voice cuts through the call, his tone serious and stern. “I’m walking in now.” The call drops.

The doors to the shop slide open, and you turn to see your friend striding in. He’s adorned in all-black, some loose joggers with a black zip-up, the oversized hood hung over his head. He meets your eye, and rushes over to you.

His hair hangs low, the ends slightly wet from a shower, and he pulls his mask down a little to speak to you. “Are you ok?” Jackson’s eyes search you, his hand comes up to your shoulder. You smile at the way his frown twists in concern, “I am now you’re here, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, “don’t thank me, I said it’s the bare minimum. Besides, how could I even say no… sorry, I’m busy, ask him to stop following you? As if—” Jackson huffs. “Speaking of, that’s the guy? Following you?” He, subtly, nods pointedly at the figure outside the window. You’re both standing somewhere deeper into the shop, no one can see you from the outside in. And, Jackson made sure to slow his walking down before turning the street corner, he wasn’t about to lose the perpetrator before he could even get him caught.

You nod, “yeah, I, I noticed he had his hand in his pocket, he kept reaching into it a couple times—I don’t know, I’m probably just being paranoid—but I think he had something in there,” your fingers fidget, clasping around your phone. You watch as Jackson’s brows furrow, his hand drops from your shoulder. “We’re staying until the police come,” he says, finally.

“Police? You called them? When?”

“I put you on hold, remember. Anyways,” Jackson takes the bag in your hand from you, filled with snacks from the CVS, “do you want anything from here, it’s on me.” You walk further into the store, looking up and down the aisles together aimlessly as you waited on the police to arrive. If you ignored the shadowed creep outside, this moment felt domestic. Your bag was even slung over his shoulder. Despite your friendship only being relatively new, you felt you had known Jackson for ages. And, there were always twinklings of other things below the surface every time you met each other. Sometimes they were moments of lasting eye contact, other times, goosebumps after lingering touches or brushes of hands. You were still feeling each other out a little, though, taking it slow to build up feelings until they’d become too strong to ignore.

Jackson looks up, noticing something from the corner of his eye, “stay here for a second,” he tells you. “Don’t move.”

You nod, intrigued as you watch him walk away. He strolls out the store, and you see him walk up to some figures in uniform. Two men. Jackson talks to them, points in another direction, and the officers walk up to the shadowed figure, Jackson looking on. The stalker attempts to make a run for it, but unfortunately for him, doesn’t get too far before the officers hold him down and detain him. The scene moves so quickly, too quick for you to process and before you blink, the officers take him away and Jackson walks back into the shop and stops in front of you.

He smiles down at you, “let’s go, I’m walking you home.”

As you walk down the street, you chat away about your day at work, updating him on some recent office gossip about a work-couple. You don’t pay much attention to the way Jackson scans your surroundings: the way he moves closer to you ever so slightly, the way his hands ready to pull you back in case a cyclist nearly runs you over as you cross the road, the way he checks to see how you’re doing, only to get distracted by the way the warm street lights make your face glow.

It’s only when he hears a bunch of rowdy teenagers run past the two of you, that you register the way his arm wraps around your shoulder, bringing you in closer, shielding you. You look up at him, much closer now than before, your brows raised a touch, “oh, thank you.” His arm around you feels heavy, but warm, and you thank him silently for not dropping it afterwards.

How many of these have you already drunk all night? You wonder to yourself as you look down at the red plastic cup in your hand before tossing it away. You don’t usually get so easily affected by these types of drinks, but unlike most of his friends and housemates, who would normally only buy cheap, stale beer to pass around at their parties, Jackson has always chosen the best ones to serve his guests with. 

That’s probably why you have been enjoying it a lot, even when you aren’t normally a huge fan of beer. And he must have stocked up more than enough of them for this pool party of his, since the drinks keep circulating around the pool and the outdoor patio where everyone has spread, and there seems to be no sign of them running out of the drinks. 

But the beer is quite strong, and it’s been a while since you filled up your stomach with dinner—the plate filled with cheeseburger and fries that the boys cooked themselves now lies empty on one of the tables on the side of the pool. Then you also shared a couple of shots with the boys during one of Jackson’s games before jumping into the pool to cool off, so now you are beginning to feel it going straight to your head. 

“Hey, babe? Come on, truth or dare?” 

Jackson’s voice snaps you out of it, and you turn to your side to see him leaning closer. “Hmm?” you hum absentmindedly, before realizing that he was talking to you earlier while your mind was wandering. “Oh, sorry…what were you saying?” 

Jackson lifts his eyebrow. “The game. It’s your turn to choose.” 

Your eyes grow wide. Oh, right…you were playing a game. 

Although, there is hardly any point in playing when there’s barely anyone around to join. 

In a typical fashion of Jackson’s famous summer parties, he always fills it with not only good food and top-notch drinks, but also with a variety of games that everyone can join and have a lot of fun with. Tonight, he’s had all the guests join all types of drinking games, followed by a few rounds of the classic game of truth or dare. 

Not five minutes ago, there were still a lot of others who joined the latest game. But now, just a little over an hour after it first started, one by one, they have all begun to drop out of the game. Like Bambam, who is now lounging in the outdoor hot tub after taking the last dare by dipping in completely naked, now joined by two girls who seem to be enjoying his company, or Youngjae and Mark, who are half passed out on nearby recliners after taking the challenge of finishing a whole tray of shots. 

You can see other guests chilling on one side of the pool to cool off after playing their own games, or lying down on the lines of recliners to sober up, while nearly half of the party has moved into the house, possibly finding their own entertainment to enjoy or to find any random corner to sleep in. Which leaves only you, Jackson, and Yugyeom sitting on the outdoor lounge near the other end of the pool, slightly away from the others, to resume whatever is left from the game. Droplets of water still cling to your bodies as the three of you had just left the pool merely seconds ago after the last game. 

“Well?” 

Your heart skips a beat as you meet Jackson’s gaze. You haven’t really noticed how much closer he has gotten, too close, that his face is practically right in front of you. Your breath catches, while Jackson’s smug grin rises slowly across his face. 

“Dare,” you manage to whisper, your eyes falling on his lips when he lets out a low chuckle. 

“So that’s how you want to play it?” He teases, and you resist the urge to look away when your cheeks burn under his calculating gaze. 

You have to admit that you haven’t been playing fair. Ever since the game started, you have been doing your best to avoid choosing ‘truth’ each time you have your turn while Jackson is leading the game. You weren’t ready to spill any secrets that Jackson might be interested in digging out of you, or for you to confront what happened between the two of you last summer when you fell for his charm, then fell into his bed, long before his party even ended. 

It’s quite surprising how well he has been playing along so far; never once has he tried to make you change your mind while playing. But seeing the amusement now dancing across his hooded eyes, you realize that he might have been expecting you to make this choice. And he doesn’t waste another second before saying, “In that case, I dare you to have a round of body shots.” 

Your jaw drops. “What?” You sputter, while you can hear Yugyeom snickering from the other end of the loveseat you are sitting on. 

“Now we’re talking,” he teases, slurring as he speaks, obviously too deeply affected by all the shots he had from playing against Youngjae and Mark. You throw a sharp glance at him, which doesn’t have any effect on him when he barely pays attention to your change of mood. 

“What’s the matter, babe? Are you backing out of the dare?” Jackson asks you when you fail to answer. 

“No, I’ll do it,” you quickly interject before Jackson offers you something different to choose from. Seeing the mischief in his eyes, you’re not quite sure that you would like what he has in mind. “How does it work?” you ask him instead, “Am I doing the shot on you, or is it going to be the other way around?’

You start to picture Jackson licking something off of your skin, and your body instantly warms up. But you don’t have a chance to regret accepting the dare when Jackson leans back, tapping his chin as he starts thinking deeply about it. 

“Hmmm…let’s see,” he hums softly, running his gaze lazily down your body. It makes you feel self-conscious to be the center of his attention, that the heat in your body keeps rising further, the bikini you are wearing seems to melt into your skin, as if they are insignificant as he continues to devour you with only his perusing gaze. 

“Why don’t we do both?” he offers with a grin on his face, “We can take turns. You take a shot from me, then I’ll have mine on yours. Deal?” 

You lick your lips. “That sounds fair,” you gently murmur, right before Yugyeom chimes in gently. 

“Sounds like a good idea to me.” 

Jackson snickers softly, while you turn to look at his friend. “I suppose you’ll be joining too, then?”

Yugyeom licks his lips and grins, his eyes flickering towards Jackson for a brief moment. “Nah, I’ve gotten too much to drink already. I’ll just sit back and watch, be the spectator to judge if the dare is completed and maybe help you out with the drinks so you won’t be spilling all over these new seats,” he chuckles and sits back with his arms spread over the backrest of the long loveseat. 

“I guess it’s going to be just you and me, baby,” Jackson gently says, drawing your attention back to him. “Ready?” 

Shivers run through your body as he leans in, brushing his lips against the nape of your neck. You hold your breath, hoping that it will be enough to hide how much he is affecting you. Keeping your voice steady, you nod and whisper to him, “Let’s get this over with.” 

Jackson leans back, smiling as if he is feeling pleased with himself, and then nods at Yugyeom. The latter immediately jumps into action, reaching out to grab the bottle of tequila on the table that he used to play his game earlier. He lifts the bottle, clicking his tongue when he realizes that the bottle is down to its last drop. “We ran out of this one from the other dares. Let me grab a new bottle.” 

Jackson nods and instructs him to grab the one he stocked in the outdoor bar for tonight’s event, claiming that it’s the good bottle. “And don’t forget to bring us more lime.” 

“You got it.” 

Left alone with Jackson, you are made acutely aware of his presence leaning close to your side. The heat of his body seems to radiate in the space around you, overpowering the cold night air that you are still feeling after dipping into the pool with him earlier. 

“You look tense.” 

The gentle tone in Jackson’s voice surprises you, but it helps calm your nerves a little. “I’m fine.” 

Jackson lets out a low chuckle, the corner of his lips lifts up to a smile as he teases you, “Of course, you are. You certainly look like you are enjoying the party.” 

You giggle and bump your shoulder against him, making him sway backwards. “Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself? You went all out tonight, you know.” 

“Maybe a little.” He shrugs. “But we’re not talking about me, and I know what I’m seeing. Not to mention that you’re still here.” 

His words make you pause and look at him. You have to admit that you have been nervous all night. You weren’t even sure about coming to the party earlier tonight, until your roommates managed to convince you to come. It wasn’t really the thought of going out and having fun at a summer party that made you hesitant to come in the first place, after all. It was the thought of seeing him, the guy who filled your summer last year with long nights filled with hot, intense sex, whether it was on his bed, yours, or sometimes even in other places he deemed fit to claim you on and made you go crazy with his touches. 

You can’t even remember why you stopped hooking up with him. You only remember how everything got a bit too much, too intense, that you chose to step back and find some space away from him. Only to find out that it was too late. He had practically ruined you for everyone else that the idea of dating and hooking up with other guys that you stopped trying altogether. 

That was before this summer, before tonight, when you finally get to see him again. The moment he saw you earlier when you first arrived, you could see the questions running in his head through the look in his eyes.

How are you? What have you been up to? Why haven’t you been answering my calls and texts?

That had been the reason why you had been avoiding his prodding questions, although—despite feeling nervous all night whenever you found his eyes lingering on you—it still hadn’t stopped you from getting drawn to him and staying close. You should have realized that he had noticed how highly strung you have been all night, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. 

“Did you expect me to run away or something?” You ask him with a smile, while keeping your voice light to hide your surprise. 

“Not exactly,” he says with a shrug, then he leans close to whisper, “But I’d like to know what’s been going on inside your pretty mind.” 

You bite your lips, stopping yourself from saying anything. As your gazes meet, the air around you sparks, growing intense, and the small voice in your mind is telling you to back away from the dare before things go any further. 

Yugyeom chooses that exact moment to return from the outdoor bar, breaking the tension growing between you and Jackson. You turn to see him with a bottle of branded tequila in one hand, and a small tray with shot glasses and lime wedges in the other. His steps are a bit clumsy, and the stupid grin on his face gives away just how drunk he has actually gotten. 

How he still manages to walk across the pool deck without slipping or dropping anything is beyond you. 

“You got the salt here, right?” he calls out to Jackson, who grabs the salt shaker that had been tossed over on the table when the other guys used it to take shots while you were enjoying your time in the pool. 

“Right here.” 

“Nice.” 

Yugyeom sets down the bottle and the tray on the table, his movements lacking grace, but at least he isn’t spilling anything while he acts like a bartender preparing the drinks. 

“Three shots?” you ask him as Yugyeom lines up three shot glasses in front of you and begins pouring the drink into each one, filling them up to the brim. “Are you joining us?” 

Yugyeom lifts his gaze, glancing briefly at Jackson before answering with a knowing smile on his face, “Not joining the game, babe. I know when it’s time to just sit back and let you guys have some fun licking these drinks from each other.” He throws you a wink, making your cheeks burn, and takes one shot glass in his hand. “But you know I can’t miss out on a good bottle, so let me join you for a little warm-up.” 

“Have at it.” Jackson shakes his head and hands the second glass to you. “How about a love shot for foreplay?” 

You roll your eyes, but choose to play along. “Sure. I guess you can join this one?” You smile teasingly at Yugyeom, who grins at you in return.

“How can I say no to that?”

Jackson lets out a low chuckle, and then he pours a line of salt on the back of your hand before doing it to his own. 

Before you get to choose where to start, Jackson links his arm around yours, entwining the hands holding the shot glasses and gently pulling you closer. His eyes are on yours, deep and intense, as he licks the salt from the back of his hand. He pauses, waiting for you to mirror his move before he continues. You keep your eyes on him as you drag your tongue across the salt in your hand, drawing a smile to his face, and you down the drink at the same time. 

The tequila burns sweet and sharp down your throat, but the heat you feel as it settles in your chest comes entirely from him, and it makes you feel dizzy, that you quickly pull away to break out of the intense fog he has pulled you into. 

“My turn,” Yugyeom calls out from your other side as you bite down on a piece of lime wedge to chase down the hard liquor in your mouth, and you cannot feel more grateful that he chooses that moment to crush the spell that you are in. 

You turn to him, letting him refill your glass before repeating the same thing you did with Jackson as you link your arms together, the shot glass between your fingers and the salt on the back of your hand. Even when you do it all over again the same way, it feels so different with Yugyeom. There is no spark between you as you lock gazes with each other, his teasing grin as he licks off the salt from his hand isn’t making your heart race, and the only heat you feel after taking the drink isn’t as strong as the heat coming from Jackson’s gaze that you feel brushing against your back. 

“Alright…now, who should go first?” Jackson asks you once you are done and you have your attention back on him, his voice low and playful, but the same cannot be said for the way he is looking at you. The mischief in his eyes makes you hesitant for a moment, but you also realize that you can no longer back down from the challenge. 

“You go first,” you decide, knowing that this would be the only way for this to happen. 

His grin widens. “Good choice.” Jackson nods at Yugyeom right then, the latter immediately continues to play his role of an attendant as he refills the glass shots—two of them this time—to the brim. “Lie back down, baby.” 

Jackson’s voice sends your heartbeat palpating wildly in your chest. You take a deep breath to find some calmness, and then slowly lie back across the loveseat with your head resting on the cushions; the soft fabrics beneath you feel cold against your back. Being in this position makes you feel completely exposed and vulnerable. Your body bristles under the chill night air brushing against your wet skin, but on the inside, you feel warmth pooling in your belly. 

You can feel Yugyeom’s presence as he sits on the end of the loveseat, watching, while Jackson rises to his feet, his head tilted as he takes in the sight of you. You watch as Jackson moves to take the shot glass while you shift on the seat, trying your best to get comfortable despite being acutely aware of the two pairs of eyes watching you. 

Jackson steps closer, his tall frame becomes a looming presence, intimidating and alluring at the same time. With the shot glass in one hand, he reaches out with the other hand to gently brush your damp hair back, exposing your neck and shoulder, the tips of his fingers grazing your skin in a barely-there touch that sends shivers down your spine. 

Slowly, with deliberate movement, he moves to straddle your waist, a move which surprises you so much that it draws a gasp from your lips. Jackson smiles at you as he places the shot glass right at the hollow between your breasts. The glass feels cold against your now heated skin, drawing another gasp from you. 

Jackson carefully bends over you, getting close enough until his chest is nothing but a couple of inches away from the tip of the glass. “Hold still,” he murmurs with a grin on his face. You steady your breath and fight the urge to squirm as he sprinkles a line of salt on your skin, right between your collarbone and the swell of your breasts. His touch is featherlight, but his body heat is ever-present, like a heavy blanket pressing you down into the cushion. 

You can finally breathe easier when Jackson leans back, taking his whole body heat away as he reaches out to the table to pick up a lime wedge. Holding still the best you can to stop the shot glass from tipping over, you follow his movement with your gaze, and suck a deep breath when he brings the lime wedge to your lips.

“Open for me,” he commands softly. 

Your head swirls as you part your lips, feeling as if his words are taking over your mind completely. For a moment, you see his gaze darkening with need, but he takes your attention away from it as he places the lime wedge between your teeth. Once he is done, he straightens back up, a small smile lifts on his face, yet his eyes are dark and intense as they roam down your body. He takes a moment to marvel at his work, enjoying the way you look before him, before asking you gently, “Ready?” 

His voice sounds low and husky, sending your heart racing. You can only nod to answer, not trusting yourself to speak around the lime wedge, much less to risk the short glass falling if you even dare try to. 

Jackson dips his head, his breath tickling your skin as he lowers his face close to your chest. The wet locks from the top of his head falling over, unruly from his swim with you earlier, and they gently graze on your skin as he traces his tongue along the salt line. He starts slow, his tongue lingering on your skin a few seconds longer than he should, then his mouth moves over the swell of your breasts with a ghostly touch. His warm breath feels like a brief touch of a kiss, and you clutch your hands on the cushions beneath you to hold yourself still. The sensation feels electric, sending sparks of pleasure through every cell in your body, even when he isn’t actually touching you yet. 

Jackson pauses briefly, catching your gaze, then lifts his head just enough to wrap his lips around the shot glass nestled between your breasts. Your breath hitches when his lips graze lightly on your skin, but he quickly pulls away and tilts his head back in one swift motion with the glass caught between his lips, and you watch him down the shot with ease. 

He swallows the tequila smoothly, his muscles contracting as the liquid slides down his throat, and then he drops the empty glass onto the cushion beside you. 

He bends back down again, and his mouth is suddenly on yours. His lips feel warm and intense as he presses them against yours. Your tongues tangle together briefly as he takes the lime wedge from between your teeth. The tart juice from the lime erupts in your mouth, mixed together with the strong taste of tequila clinging on his tongue. You tilt your chin up, following the desperate need you feel to press your lips longer on his. Only that he is suddenly gone, the heat of his body is quick to be replaced by the cool night air as he sits back. 

You simply lie there, breathless and dizzy with lust, with the ghost of his touch—his lips, his tongue—still tingling on your skin and mouth. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the sounds reverberating loud enough in your ears, nearly drowning the low murmur of the party still carrying on in the distance. 

Then your eyes roam down his body, a steady perusal down his chiseled chest, now heaving with deep breaths, to the toned stomach and the V-line disappearing under the tight swim trunks that he has been wearing all night. And then your gaze settles on the center of his spread legs, seeing him sitting on your lap still, your attention drawn to where a hard bulge has formed under the fabric covering his skin. You drag your tongue across your lips, tasting the remnants of lime, tequila, and every bit of him that you have gotten a taste of, while suddenly feeling the thirst to taste something else. 

“Ready for your turn, baby?” 

You drag your eyes away from his covered hard-on, meeting his deep, dark and knowing gaze, and smile. “I’m ready.” 

Jackson rises, stepping aside to stand on his feet before offering his hand for you to take. Your body feels unsteady as you try to rise; the delicate sparks he ignited are still radiating faintly in your body, so you take his hand to accept his support. You lean on him as you lift your body up from the seat and get to your feet. 

“My turn,” he says, then he takes your place across the loveseat and lies down. 

The clinking sound of a shot glass draws your attention away from him, and you turn to see Yugyeom pouring tequila onto another glass, topping it off. Your face flushes when you realize that he is still there, his presence forgotten while you were being completely entranced by Jackson’s alluring presence and his taunting mouth. 

“Here you go,” Yugyeom says as he hands you the shot glass. 

As you take the glass from his hand, you notice the mischievous grin he is giving you. His dark, hooded gaze makes you wonder about what is running through his head right now. Warmth spreads across your cheeks when you think about him sitting there, watching Jackson crawl over your body to take his shot. 

Shaking these thoughts away, you hold the glass still in one hand and reach out for the salt shaker in the other, and then you take a step closer to Jackson. 

Your gaze travels down Jackson’s body while he is lying there across the loveseat, taking in the expanse of his inked skin and sculpted chest. Water droplets from the pool still cling to him, perhaps mixed together with sweat, as you can still feel his body heat radiating from him with each steady breath he takes, his skin glistening under the soft light illuminating the poolside. His swim trunks ride low on his hips, something that you didn’t pay much attention to before. Once again, your eyes are drawn to the V-line dipping under the waistband of his trunks, his hard bulge forming firmly from under his trunks right where that enticing line ends. 

Jackson watches you closely, his gaze intense, as you carefully climb onto the seat, planting your knees on either side of his hips to straddle him the same way he did with you. 

A faint groan slips out of him when you settle down on his thighs, his muscles flexing under your weight. A light shudder courses through his body when you wiggle your hips, trying to get comfortable. His gaze darkens as he looks up at you, watching you with anticipation. 

With slow, delicate movement, you place the shot glass on his navel, being careful not to let a single drop of it spill down onto his skin. The icy touch of the glass draws a light gasp from his lips; the sensation seems heightened on his heated skin. 

Biting back a grin, while hiding how much you are enjoying all these subtle reactions he is giving you, you sprinkle a line of salt on his lower stomach, starting from below his belly button and continue going lower. Your fingers ghost along the waistband of his swim trunks as you complete the trail, your touch barely skimming the fabric, yet it still draws the clench of his jaw as Jackson struggles to remain still. You can hear the quickening of his breath, while his abs flex under your touch. 

Without looking away from him, you open your palm towards Yugyeom, who immediately hands you a piece of lime wedge, and you bring it to Jackson’s lips. 

“Open up,” you gently command him. You try to keep your tone light, but your voice betrays you, as it comes out breathy and husky, giving away the swirling heat rising in your chest. 

Jackson obediently follows your order and parts his lips, allowing you to place the lime wedge between his teeth. With a small grin, Jackson sneaks a chance to move his tongue, licking the tip of your finger before biting around the lime wedge. 

“Bad boy,” you whisper to him in mock anger, which earns his playful wink. “Ready?”

He makes a sound to answer and nods, giving you the cue to start. Planting your palms on the cushions beside him, you scoot back a little and take a deep breath before dipping your head. You pause when your face hovers over the tent forming on his swim trunks, your lips a mere inch away from it, when you look up to see him watching you with his molten gaze, his eyes filled with anticipation as he waits for your next move. 

Darting your tongue out, you make a deliberate show of slowly licking the salt trail up his skin. With a hum, you savour the feel of his smooth skin on your tongue and the way the salt dissolves in your mouth. Jackson’s muscles tense under the slow drag of your tongue, a low, strained groan rumbles through him, and you can feel it vibrating all the way to your body as you continue licking your way up, causing the sparks of heat to ignite inside you again. 

You finally reach the shot glass and mirror his move from earlier as you wrap your lips around the rim of the glass and tilt your head back, downing the shot in one swift motion. The tequila burns a fiery path down your throat before it settles down with the ember rising all over your body, and the sweetness you tasted earlier from the liquor seems to have sharpened further. 

As you drop the shot glass to the side, you run your gaze up the length of his body. The height difference you see between your bodies makes you pause, and you realize that it will require you to crawl up his body to get to the lime. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself before you start making your way up until you are straddling his lean waist. Bracing your hands on either side of his head, you slowly bend down on him. You lower your mouth on his, intending to grab the lime with your teeth, but it turns out that Jackson has a different plan. 

His head comes up to eliminate the distance, and your lips connect with his in a searing kiss. The tart lime juice bursts into your mouth, mingling together with the mixture of salt, tequila, and every part of what is his as your tongues tangle together. It takes a few seconds for you to get over the shock and realize what is happening. But instead of pulling away, you melt into the kiss and mould your lips harder against his. 

Noticing your reaction, Jackson lets out a pleased hum before his hands come up to grab your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he moves you down onto his lap, pressing your heated center against the noticeable hardness that has formed more solidly beneath his swim trunks. 

It feels scandalous to be in this position. All while being in the open, with your mouths entangled with one another, but you welcome the sparks of pleasure that surge through your body and begin pressing your hips back down on him. 

Moaning into his mouth, you allow yourself to get lost in the intensity of his moment, the indecent pleasure shooting straight into your core and throwing all common sense out the window. 

When you finally break apart, you are completely breathless, your head dizzy with the intense need for more. You know that you should put a stop to this right here, to push away from him before you gain audience from whoever still remains around the pool, but you simply cannot resist the pull that keeps drawing you back to him. 

You feel no rush to pull away after the kiss. Your mouth still ghosts over his, only giving enough distance for him to spit out what was left of the lime before you feel the featherlight touch of his lips reaching up to chase you again. His grip on your waist remains a steady presence, keeping you nestled over his bulge. 

“That was a good one, wasn’t it?” Jackson whispers against your lips, his warm breath making you tingle right where he’d just kissed you. 

“I—” You let out a sigh, still unable to think clearly, your mind in a bit of a haze after downing the shot and the kiss that followed.

“Damn, now I’m regretting not joining the game,” Yugyeom lets out a low chuckle from the side, his voice breaking you out of your bubble. With a gasp, you turn to look over your shoulder, noticing him still sitting on the edge of the loveseat with his hooded eyes locked on you. 

You have, once again, completely forgotten that he was still there. 

While you feel like you have been doused by a bucket of iced water, you notice that his gaze has grown darker, and he is sitting in a way that you won’t be able to see how much he has been affected by the show that you and Jackson have put on with your dare. Realizing that you have an audience the entire time, your face burns with dread and embarrassment, while your body reacts differently; the heat circulating in your core only heightens with something akin to excitement. 

You try to push yourself up, not wanting to give him another show, but Jackson’s hold on you remains firm, refusing to let go. Looking back at your partner, you realize too late how compromising this position truly is. Not only are you pressing your covered heat right over his hardness, but you are also giving Jackson the perfect view of your breasts right in front of his eyes. But Jackson has his eyes on Yugyeom, his eyes sharp even though his voice is deep and hoarse when he teases his best friend and says, “If you want a part of the game, you might want to wait for your turn.” 

Yugyeom laughs. “Nah, bro. I’ll let you two continue the game while I cool off or something,” he says, stopping himself just as his eyes start drifting back to where you are connected with Jackson. He clears his throat and slowly rises from his seat while subtly fixing his swim trunks that look a bit tighter than they did before. 

Noticing your eyes on him, Yugyeom throws you a teasing wink. “Don’t go too wild when I’m not around, you two,” he chuckles loudly, before he runs off and jumps into the outdoor hot tub, joining Bambam, who is still enjoying himself, completely oblivious to what was happening nearby. Once he jumps in, Yugyeom is immediately welcomed by the two girls who have been clinging to Bambam, and he wastes no time pulling one of them to his side as he settles in the hot water. 

A gentle brush on your waist draws your attention back to your partner, who is now looking at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. “How about one last game while we’re still here?” Jackson asks you, almost like a challenge. He drags his fingers up your torso, and for some reason, his gentle touch feels soothing, easing you back onto him. While he waits for your answer, he lifts his head up, brushing his lips on yours in a teasing touch, like a promise. 

“Come on, baby. You’re not thinking about running away and ending our game just when things are getting good, are you?”  

You bite your lips as you struggle to decide what to do. His offer is tempting, yet it feels too risky to fall into it. But as you look into his eyes, the thought of pulling away and running doesn’t even register in your mind. Not after the stolen kiss, and not when you feel a deep want for more. 

“Truth or dare?” You find yourself asking him with a whisper before you give any chance for hesitation to come in. 

Jackson licks his lips, his eyes drifting down to where your bodies are connected. “Not in the mood to talk right now, baby,” he hums, before dragging his gaze back up to look into your eyes. “Give me a dare.” 

Your lips rise to a slow smile. You have various ideas to choose from, knowing that Jackson would accept any kind of challenge the same way he has been doing all night. While you take a moment to consider your options, your body sways, the alcohol hitting straight up to your head that you are losing balance, only that it’s causing your covered heat to brush harder against his bulge, and the sudden need to rise up and then sink down the length of him comes surging through you just as strongly as your need to breathe. 

Your heat pulses from your core at the mental image running in your head, and your decision is made. 

“I dare you…,” you whisper, and then pause as hesitation sinks in, making you wonder if you are going insane for even considering this. You lick your lips and bend down, choosing to listen to what your body wants instead of listening to your mind when you say to him, “I dare you to keep your voice down and not draw any attention while I’m riding you.” 

His eyes flash with a hint of surprise and amusement. He clearly knows what you are planning to do as you sway a little, deliberately brushing your center against him. 

Jackson’s grip on you tightens. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.” 

Hesitation sinks in, yet the dark look in his eyes and the firm hold he keeps on your waist tell you that he welcomes it. Still, you give him a chance to back down when you whisper, “Take it or leave it. You decide.”

His grin widens, and he answers you in a low voice, “Challenge accepted.” 

Before you can change your mind, his hands slither down to your hips, his fingers sinking into your skin once more in a possessive grip. Then he lifts his face and his lips reconnect with yours in a kiss that starts slow, before it goes deep, intense, and utterly consuming, stripping away every last bit of your self-control. 

“You’re cheating,” you mumble against his lips, which then rise on the corners to a sneaky grin.

“I didn’t realize there were rules,” Jackson murmurs back, “You’re not running away.” 

You nibble your lips, noticing that any urge to hide away from him has gone. “I don’t go back from a challenge.” 

The relief flashing in his eyes is unmistakable, though he hides it well when he looks at you with a grin on his face, “I wouldn’t have let you even if you tried.” 

Your heart flutters, even when it shouldn’t, because you know that he means it. That’s what he has been doing all night, after all, when he kept you close and lured you into playing all these games with him. 

“Now, if I remember correctly, you were going to make me moan and yield.”

You bite back a smile and bend down. Your heart is palpitating wildly in your chest as you think about what you are about to do. You cannot believe you are actually doing this, and in such an open space where your and Jackson’s friends are still lingering around. But just as you said, you are not one to back away from a challenge, especially not your own. 

“Good memory,” you whisper to him as you press your knees into the cushions and straighten back up, balancing yourself with your hands on his bare chest. 

You run your fingers down his torso, feeling the slight flinch of his muscles as he tenses under your touch. His chest rumbles as a small groan escapes him, though barely enough to make a sound. You continue tracing down the lines on his body, and the moment your palms reach his lean waist, you brace yourself with a gentle hold on his body and begin to slowly rock your hips. 

His body shudders as you rub your covered heat against him, his head falling back at the sudden rush of pleasure you are giving him. Jackson fights hard for control with gritted teeth, labouring his ragged breath while his mouth falls open, forming the word, “Fuck,” as you continue rocking your hips. 

Yet still no sound comes out of him. Nothing that would be enough to make you stop or end the game. 

So you keep going, keeping your rocking steady and still subtle enough to not draw too much attention from the other people around you. But while Jackson seems to be holding himself together, your body has grown hot and sensitive after the previous game that you can feel every single sensation rising in your body. Your skin is still simmering and tingling from his touches, that a slight brush across your covered clit is already enough to make you see hints of stars sparkling under your eyelids. 

Beneath you, you can feel Jackson struggling. His control is slowly slipping away as you keep rubbing yourself on him. His body is tense, with light tremors coursing through him with every gentle rock of your hips. 

Slowly, you can feel something brewing deep inside your core. Your heat throbs, and something inside you coils tightly at the rise of pleasure. The sensation you feel rolling through your body as you feel him pressing at your heat is exhilarating, as if you can erupt any second now as you continue riding his covered length. 

You bite your lips, hard enough to almost draw blood, just to hold back a moan. Your focus is split between keeping your voice down to keep the game going, while relishing the waves of pleasure rising from where you are connected to him. 

Then, suddenly, the grip he has on your hips loosens, and his hands begin to move, going lower until his palms are spread across your bottom cheeks. His firm grip settles on your tender flesh, and you let out a gasp when he suddenly presses your body down, pulling you further into him, until you feel his cock parting your folds from over your bikini bottom. 

You open your eyes to see his grin, finding him looking pleased with himself as he whispers, “The only thing that matters is that I don’t make a noise, right?” 

“What—?” You barely have the chance to understand what he is getting at before he suddenly takes over. With his palms pressing down your bottom, his fingers digging into your flesh, he bucks his hips upwards, drawing a hiss out of your lips. “Oh, fuck—” 

Sparks of pleasure shoot up like fireworks as he rubs his stiff cock against your covered heat, and your body instinctively follows his guidance, rocking back against him, grinding along his length, returning every thrust he gives you with a rock of your hips. Soon enough, you can feel the telltale of your orgasm coming up strongly. It feels so intense, but you try your best to hold back, refusing to admit defeat. 

You were the one who started the dare in the first place, and you need him to yield first. 

But Jackson is relentless. There is no stopping him from making you lose control. Your knees buckle, your thighs tremble over his hips, and once you are no longer able to hold yourself up, you let gravity take you down until you are bent over him with your breasts rubbing on his chest. 

“Jackson…” You hiss breathlessly, feeling powerless in his hands.

“Sshh…what’s wrong, baby? Do you want to stop?” He asks you with a mocking grin. 

“No,” you bite back, which only makes him chuckle. 

“Then you better keep your voice down, baby.” 

His words seem like a taunt, mocking you for the challenge you gave him. But it also reminds you of why you made such a challenge in the first place, when any sound you make can draw someone’s attention to you, to let them notice what the two of you are doing—dry humping right where all eyes can see. The realization only makes you feel self-aware, and your body becomes even more sensitive, more vulnerable, being so exposed as you are doing something so scandalous while being out in the open.

“Mmmh…” A muffled moan escapes you when he rocks against you, hard. Your new position makes it possible for the tip of his cock to rub violently against your covered clit as you continue to rock back and forth on top of him. 

Jackson rocks back a few more times, gritting his teeth hard as he stops himself from making a sound before you do. And then it happens. 

Fireworks light up under your eyelids as your orgasm shoots through your body. The sensation you feel is mind-blowing, and your mouth falls open, though no sound comes out of you other than the rough sound of ragged breaths spilling out of your chest. 

The next rock of your hips is jerky, unsteady, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because a tremor suddenly rocks through Jackson’s body. Warmth pools at your center, his release soiling his tight swim trunks and spilling out onto his stomach, making a complete mess out of both of you. His breath is unsteady, rough, coupled with the sound of his low groan, but no other sound comes out of him to draw unwanted attention your way. 

Content, and utterly exhausted, you fall on his chest. For a moment, everything comes to a complete halt. Except for the soft sounds of your ragged breaths, you hear nothing else but silence. Until you find calmness, and all the sounds coming from around you slowly return. 

The humming sound of music coming from the speakers at the open bar, the giggles and laughters from your and Jackson’s friends who are still alert enough to enjoy what still remains from the party, the splashing sounds of water from those who are playing on the pool, and the faint chatters coming from the small group still enjoying themselves in the hot tub nearby. 

“I won,” Jackson murmurs tiredly, his voice coming out so low that you can barely hear it over the sound of your blood pulsing in your head. 

You push yourself up to look at him. “What?” 

Jackson opens his eyes, his gaze still heavy with content and lust when he lazily whispers, “I didn’t scream or moan, so I won.” 

Chuckling softly, you plant your face on his bare chest, which is now soaked with his sweat. You listen to his rapid heartbeat that is mirroring yours and smile to yourself. “I think we both won,” you whisper against his skin and close your eyes, savouring this moment while ignoring the slickness growing at your center. The spasms of your climax are receding slowly, while your body hums at the semi-hardness still pressing against your heat. 

As the fog of pleasure is slowly fading away, the discomfort you feel from the mess and reality begin to sink in. But Jackson takes your mind away from all of it when he gently wraps his arms around your body, helping you relax against his chest as he lies back into the cushions to rest. “I think you’re right,” he murmurs lazily, a smug grin spreads on his face, “We both won the dare.” 

You stay entangled together for a moment longer, relishing the moment, ignoring the rest of the world and everything else still happening all around you. 

It won’t be until a bit later when you finally manage to gather your bearings and for Jackson to figure out a way to hide his soiled trunks, and the two of you finally manage to walk away from the outdoor lounge, leaving the dwindling party behind to sneak into his summer house and continue your daring games somewhere with more privacy and away from prying eyes. 

Mark || Venus: Leo, Mars: Libra || Turn On: Praise (Receiving)

He’s twinning with Yeosang in that he just wants to hear he’s making you feel good. Like seriously, let him know when he’s hitting the right spot or tell him no one else is as good as he is. Might also dish it right back because he has that kinda vibe. Can be broody if he feels like you’re not matching his level of intensity as far as the relationship goes, which can be cured with some praise and appreciation.

Jaebeom || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Cockwarming

They say stability and trustworthiness are sexy, and Jay B took that personally. He wants to impress you with his endless cool and mature vibes, so when you’re tired of boys, he can be your man. He’s a romantic, so you can expect loads of sweet, traditional gestures. Okay, but what about the Jay B who sang Switch It Up? Read the lyrics. He told us what he likes. So bold. Somewhat traditional, with a bit of spice here and there. After seeing him read mild tame thirst tweets, I truly believe he’d hesitate to try kinky things like choking or spanking, like he just wants to be inside you and hold you close. The promise of the intimacy alone is enough to have him dragging you to bed.

Jackson || Venus: Aries, Mars: Pisces || Kink: Daddy 

If you know me even a little bit you knew this was coming. My GAWD the amount of love and care that seeps from this man’s pores is fucking amazing. He lives to care for and spoil you like no other, wanting to make sure you have everything you could ever need or want. And that translates to his bedroom. Help? This freaky ball of energy is gonna wear you tf out. He legit doesn’t give a fuck how many times you’ve cum, he needs more. Will strive to leave you hoarse from calling him daddy just because he loves to hear you say it. I could write a fucking essay on this istg.

Jinyoung || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Bondage

Another hill I’ll die on. A king in the streets and a control freak in the sheets. Just the thought of tying you down to his bed is enough to get him going. Loves to tease and torture you until you’re begging to be let go or fucked hard. Wanna be a brat? Face down and ass up with your arms secured behind your back. Being inside you is just a bonus at that point. Go ahead and struggle, it’s cute to him. You’ll be crying with relief when he finally gets inside you.

Youngjae || Venus: Leo, Mars: Leo || Turn On: Collaring (Receiving)

“Mars in Leo natives enjoy sex more than most”--say less. So Jae’s freaky af and I will hear none of this pure cinnamon roll slander. Honestly he’s probably as bad as Jay B. So what does this bub like? A collar. Hear me out. Collaring is one of the freakiest things you can do to someone while also showing them how much you care/love them. He just wants to be yours--mind, body, and soul. In return, you get his unconditional love and unwavering loyalty. He doesn’t mind you taking the lead in bed because he trusts you and your judgment. You touching/pulling on his collar makes all the blood in his body rush down south and it doesn’t take long for him to start begging you to ride him.

BamBam || Venus: Taurus, Mars: Virgo || Turn On: Nipple Play (Giving)

After deeming him a boobie lover, I can’t help but see him as a motor boatin’ son of a bitch. Lives to put his face near your chest and play with it. In bed you can bet he’ll be kissing and biting on your nips until you beg him to stop. Once you start that up, he’s eager to get inside of you just to continue doing it so he can feel you squeeze the life outta his dick.

Yugyeom || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Thigh Riding

Lemme be Captain Obvious for a few seconds. You belong on his thigh. He knows it. You know it. So why aren’t you on it? While he loves any form of teasing you, watching you get all worked up to the point of ruining his pants is an experience he can’t live without. It’s lowkey fascinating that it feels that good for you and he barely has to do anything other than force you to keep moving once you reach that peak. His favorite part is watching your cute little face scrunch up as you shiver in his arms. Then he’ll tease you about it while pulling your legs around his waist and unzipping his pants...