islesnap

[islesnap]

mdni

𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 ― 𝑗. 𝑗𝑎𝑒ℎ𝑦𝑢𝑛

summary: after you tell a lie, there's no turning back, y/n doesn't know what to do now that she told the whole frat that she slept with the best boxer in college: jung jaehyun.

pairing: college boxer!jaehyun x student afab!reader

genre: strangers to friends w/ benefits to lovers, smut, angst (y/n is such a fool), college life.

wc: 27,4k

warnings: this fic is slightly inspired in manhwa peach sorbet. humor, cursing, breeding kink, fingering, blowjob, kissing, sex scenes in a nutshell💀, smoking, alcohol.

part ii here.

playlist: ✧ need to know ; doja cat ✧ tio ; zayn ✧ entertainer ; zayn ✧ common ; zayn ✧ rear view ; zayn ✧ you wish you knew ; zayn ✧ swim ; chase atlantic

notes: i hope you enjoy it and sorry for my bad english T-T english isn't my first language so pls forgive me if i had some grammar errors bc i'm still learning😁🙏 and yeah i love zayn 😭

“being a virgin in high school isn’t a big deal, y/n” that’s what your friend, kang saeran said, at that moment she was a virgin as well, but once both of you graduated, she slept with her boyfriend. damn liar. you thought because nowadays you were in your sophomore year in college and still nothing of action.

yeah, you had some boyfriends in the past, but never took the next step and had sex, maybe because you were afraid or because you thought that you wanted to be a virgin until you got married to the man you loved… how wrong you were.

none of your childhood friends went to the same college as you. that feels like starting from zero again. as a birthday present, your parents rented a small room for you close to the college, so you can become more independent and have your own space and avoid all the troubles with the roomies at the college sorority. 

at some point, you were excited, because you started to imagine all the privacy you would have and that meant one thing; have sex whenever you like. but the sad reality was other, you were always busy with school tasks and barely had time to hang out with friends, also add that you just went on some dates but nothing else. It’s like men weren’t interested in you in a sexual way, even in a romantic way. but, come on! you were pretty, funny, and have great music taste, what the hell is wrong with them then? 

“when did you lose your virginity, y/n?” you almost choked with your bubble tea when jinsol asked that without any filter, as if it were anything at all, maybe it was for her, but you… damn, you were a fucking virgin as hell. 

“perhaps she’s a virgin” jungeun mutters and giggled, you gave her a dirty look. 

“shut up, and nope, i’m not a virgin.” you lied, staring at your friend with confidence in your eyes, you thought your performance was too good because both girls looked at you expectantly for you to continue with your revelation. “was with my ex-boyfriend from high school, we had sex after the graduation party, on the couch at his parents' house” jinsol frowned and jungeun couldn't help but let out a laugh, although she tried to cover her mouth when jinsol nudged her, sorry, she said biting her lips as if she was avoiding at all costs not to laugh at you.

“wow… too much information if i can tell…” it was what jinsol said, on the inside, you were dying of shame, why should you have stuck your tongue out and said that? besides, you were unintentionally exposing how kang saeran lost her virginity. at least they didn't know her, so the ethics can be screwed if they want to. 

“well… it’s the first time i've told you this so… i’m sorry if it sounds weird to you”

“it did” jungeun mocked of you once again. 

“bitch, you’re starting to piss me off” you pointed your finger at jungeun in a threatening manner, maybe you were getting defensive, but you had to protect your secret from now on. "why don't you tell us how you lost your virginity?" 

since then, you and your friends have talked little to nothing about her active sex life at the moment. now and then, jungeun tells them that she will go on a date with some random dude on tinder and won't return to the sorority until the next day. she doesn't care about the sanctions she receives. jinsol is a beauty in the social science department and most of the guys have a huge crush on her, however, she recently started dating qian kun, an exchange boy in the music department, while you, well, you are in good health and doing well in your studies.

summer days are coming and that means summer vacations, you could return to your parent’s house or maybe apply for a job near the college. today was friday and your first class started at 9:30 am, it's still early so you decided to make a little stop at Starbucks on your way to the college. you ordered the usual; iced mocha. you took a seat near the window while checking your instagram feed, behind you were sitting some girls from the same department as you, you recognized one of them as park sooyoung, one of the college goddesses, she was barely wearing makeup and still looked too beautiful, her lips were pigmented in a strong red that stood out with her milky skin. she was laughing with her friends, you didn't avoid paying attention to the other's conversation when you heard the word sex.

“is he really as good as they said? i heard he can last up to five rounds in bed” 

“it was spectacular, have you heard that phrase that says “he would makes you see stars”? well, it was like that” sooyoung covered both cheeks realizing the blush that was appearing on her face. the other girls squealed and congratulated her.

“i heard about a rumor going around the frat that said that if you sleep with him, it’s 100% sure you’ll cum within five minutes” they squealed again and sooyoung kept nodding.

what you didn’t understand was, who the fuck are they talking about? thousands of images came to your mind, trying to give shape to the man they were describing, how prominent or spectacular he must be to have such abilities as if he were a god or something.

“i’m telling you girls, having sex with the leader of the boxing club was the best thing i could have done, besides, i would like to go out on a date with him, he’s not only good in bed, he’s also very attractive, at least i want to see him once again” that was what sooyoung said with a smile on her face, everything about her seemed to glow, is that the result of a good fuck? 

you thought about the boxing club- you didn’t even know there was a boxing club at the college, to begin with, let alone know who the leader is, but he must be someone good-looking as the rumors said. you didn’t give the matter any more thought and headed to the college, straight to your first class.

but your mind wouldn’t leave you alone and started to imagine all the possible faces and bodies that could be assimilated by someone handsome knows how to fuck and who, undoubtedly, must have a good body because he’s a boxer. you wish for a moment you hadn’t listened to that conversation that had nothing to do with you. oh, you did. in the end, you would regret it, because that night, your friends would invite you to a frat party to celebrate the arrival of summer and when you had too much alcohol in your system, the others decided it was a great idea to play “truth or dare” with an empty soju bottle that was there.

it was the turn of taeyong from the psychology department to turn the bottle, at this point you felt too dizzy, however, you knew how to hide it very well, next to you was jinsol, who was muttering something that you couldn’t understand well, maybe she was saying you to go to sleep or go to the restroom to vomit.

you opened your eyes in surprise when the tip of the bottle pointed at you, taeyong’s corners rose wickedly, and everyone was waiting expectantly for his question, you knew he would say something stupid as was common, something silly to make fun of you. but, even in this state, you weren’t going to allow it.

“who was the last person you had sex with?” that felt like a bucket of cold water on you, everyone laughed at the question, as direct and blatant as lee taeyong.

“what kind of question is that, hyung? we were asking about our kinks” jungwoo tapped taeyong’s shoulder in a friendly manner as if he could feel the tension in the air from the question.

and the thing is, you hadn’t done anything wrong to taeyong to make him dislike you like that, you just refused to go on a date with him because he wasn’t your type and he kept bragging about how he had slept with all the girls in the department.

“what’s wrong? you won’t answer? of course! your only last time must have been when you lost your virginity on your in-laws’ couch, or so jungeun said” taeyong let out a cruel-sounding laugh, everyone was completely silent, he was starting to cross the line.

you quickly looked at jungeun, the only one capable of telling taeyong that, she was choking on her beer when taeyong revealed that. “i swear i didn’t tell him everything!” was her only excuse as she wiped it off the beer with the back of her hand. the feeling of disappointment and humiliation was starting to rise in your chest.

the others tried to defuse the heated moment, taeyong looked at you with victory in his eyes, as if he had achieved his goal. but you were too stubborn to leave it at that, so you firmly answered his question:

“since you are so interested to know, i slept with…” your mind was not thinking clearly, you barely knew how to formulate an understandable sentence, you looked around and felt that long minutes passed, and taeyong staring at you coldly with his jaw clenched and arms crossed over his chest denoting the annoyance.

“a member of the… boxing club” damn you and your damn obsession with using someone else’s testimonials to pass them off as your own.

everyone’s eyes widened, what you had said was unheard of, and the questions of who it is were not long in coming. 

your gaze inadvertently fell on jungwoo, who was snacking on some of the fries on his left side. “jung…” you barely mumbled.

“jung?!” minkyung shouted out of nowhere as if she had hit the person you were talking about, but you just were inventing everything, wasn’t it? “you’re talking about jung Jaehyun?! oh my god, that man is so hot! you were keeping that secret well, y/n!” now all the girls were screaming around you, except jungeun and jinsol, who were looking at you dumbfounded. jinsol reacted quickly and congratulated you, although she didn’t know why she was doing it.

jung… who?

“are you… serious?” taeyong asked in a low voice, incredulous at your words. but when you nodded firmly, he licked his lips, thinking about how he could take more advantage of this situation. “well since you are so close to jaehyun, why don’t we invite him?” everyone innocently supported taeyong’s plan, as if they wanted to bring a couple together, but taeyong’s intentions were different. you bit your lips, holding in the anger that this motherfucker was provoking in you.

“do whatever you want, lee” when taeyong started to type jaehyun’s number on his phone, your heart started to race, you began to sweat and you didn’t know if it was the effects of alcohol or if you were just going to pass out from anxiety. taeyong had a nice conversation on the phone, it seemed that jaehyun was training and didn’t want to leave it just for a stupid party, as he said.

“come on, bro! we have a special guest here, i’m sure you want to see her” everyone started cheering. the line was silent until jaehyun said he would be here soon. fuck, he was just making things difficult.

the minutes went on forever and internally you wished he wouldn’t come through, but you could not chicken out, now you had to face thing as it was, also you had to figure out how you would keep your reputation after this, the most difficult thing was that you didn’t know jaehyun’s personality, apparently he is close to taeyong, what if he is just like him? you would certainly be done.

you heard the guests shouting as they announced jaehyun’s arrival, and you barely heard a deep voice complaining about making him come to a party in the middle of the night, you swallowed hard, and suddenly, the descriptions given by the girls at starbucks started to run through your head again.

god damn.

you were in big trouble.

no.

in a huge problem.

you were sitting on the ground when the huge figure of jung jaehyun landed in front of you, he frowned when you looked up to see him, god damn, his face was so beautiful, or maybe you were too drunk, but you looked into his dark eyes and you almost swore you were reflected in them.

his hair was falling over his face, he was wearing a loose sleeveless shirt showing his worked arms, his skin shone a bit, it must be the sweat from the training he was doing, underneath he only had black shorts revealing his strong legs, shit, you began to feel hot on your face from looking at him intensely.

damn, when you said you fucked someone from the boxing club you didn't expect they would bring a real person here just because you threw in a random name.

"hyung! why didn't you tell us that it was you who took away y/n's purity!” lee donghyuck put his arm around jaehyun's neck, but he didn't flinch. he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to understand what was going on, but without being too obvious.

"shut up haechan! didn't you hear that taeyong said that y/n lost her virginity a long time ago?" donghyuck was pushed by heejin, causing jaehyun to wriggle out of his grasp.

you could only close your eyes and swallow your shame, shit, how you wish you weren't there right now.

"why did you never tell us about this, y/n!" minkyung nudged you, very cheerful in her drunken state, but she only managed to plunge you further into embarrassment. the worst thing was that jaehyun looked annoyed with each passing minute.

"i didn't know you had high standards, y/n, it's amazing to know that jaehyun gave you a chance in his bed" when taeyong said that, something in you snapped, any hope of pride gone.

“h-hey jaehyun, I thought we'd never see each other again…” you said, completely nervous and shaking.

“must be a coincidence, y/n”

jaehyun gave you a smile that managed to send a chill through your whole body, even more so because of the tone he used when he said your name as if he had tasted it from his mouth before letting it out.

without warning, jaehyun wrapped you in his arms in a warm hug and it denoted a lot of confidence, but your body was rigid, you could barely react. the others yelled obscenities like go get to a room, but you only paid attention to what jaehyun whispered in your ear.

"okay, you will ask everyone to excuse you, but you have to leave with me, did you get it?"

as an automatic reaction you nodded, and once jaehyun separated from you his aura changed completely, now he smiled and his eyes turned half moons, two tender dimples appeared on his cheeks and you could look at his face for the first time with a dazzling smile from him.

“okay guys, thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, jaehyun will walk me home-”

"wow, you guys are going to fuck!" minhyung yelled out of nowhere, jinsol gave him a death glare and he gulped, realizing his mistake. "oh, I mean, they'll just walk home, yeah," he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

in an act of trust, you took jahyun's hand and intertwined it with yours, although the boy's body tensed, he hid it quite well, both of you left the building and the walk became awkward, neither of you was able to say anything while you moved away from the gaze of others, but you didn’t let go of each other's hands either. before going out into the dark, you noticed how jaehyun's knuckles were worn, and bruised with recent reddish wounds.

you led the way home without saying a word, the route was usually seven minutes, but this time you felt that your home was ten miles from the fraternity. once in front of the door of your home, you swallowed saliva, preparing yourself mentally and physically for the reverence in search of forgiveness from you and all the next generations.

“did you say that... you and I met and that... we had sex?” the slowness of his words was painful and humiliating, you stopped your walk, but you weren't able to turn to face jaehyun.

“please forgive me, i was too drunk, i know it's not an excuse, but at that moment... i just said the first thing that came to my mind, i didn't expect that there was someone with the name jung in the boxing club. i'm sorry, i got you involved in this lie, but if my friends and the whole frat find out i lied i’m all done, the truth is… i'm still a virgin, i've never slept with anyone and-...” you started talking so fast that jaehyun could barely understand everything you said, he chuckled because your speech was so random jaehyun didn't know how to feel right now, maybe used or just like a idiot that ruined your lie for being called jung and join the boxing club.

jaehyun was silent for a few moments, however, that was not uncomfortable, it was more like he understood your situation, even though you had dragged him into your lies, he listened to you carefully.

“if you want, i’ll say it didn’t happen” jaehyun whispered, bright darkness appeared in his eyes and his lips curved up in a strange smirk, he took a hand out of his pockets and brought it closer to your face, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb, you didn't know if it was you or him who was burning in the heat. “but where’s the fun in that?” 

the softness with which he caressed your cheek was intoxicating, due to the closeness you could smell his cologne and a faint of sweat, but it wasn't a bad thing for you in those moments, it felt so raw and intimate, god, you were in front of a real man. instinctively, you brought your face closer to him, tilting your head to try to reach him and you even stood on your toes, this only made jaehyun giggle, who saw it as something cute of you, there was no doubt that you were completely virgin.

with parted lips you asked for jaehyun to kiss you, so desperate for his touch and wondering what his saliva tastes like, your thoughts were rising as you felt jaehyun's breath on your face. and as if jaehyun read your thoughts, he kissed you slowly, you could only move your head to give him better access, your hands ended up on his chest where they squeezed his shirt hard and jaehyun's other hand landed on your neck, pushing you towards him.

his kiss increased when without warning, jaehyun pushed his tongue into your mouth, first licking your lower lip and then going all the way in, at first you were surprised, but it didn't take long for you to reciprocate and keep up with him. a heat was present in your crotch, and hot gasps left your mouth that was barely silenced by jung jaehyun's wild and intoxicating kisses.

god, you didn't want to stop, but the lack of oxygen was present in both of you, managing to separate for a few moments, jaehyun stared at you and you did too, it was as if his eyes were calling you to keep kissing him and how obedient a girl you were, you pushed your lips to his again, this time leading the rhythm and placing your arms around his neck, stroking with your fingertips the fade of his hair and the tips of his ears.

this time you felt jaehyun's hands slightly climb up your hips until they slipped under your blouse, you gasped at the contact of his cold hands touching your warm skin, at this moment you were letting yourself be carried away by hormones, you were not thinking correctly with your head, but you didn't care, you wanted to rub yourself against jaehyun's body to relieve the burning sensation in your crotch.

suddenly, the sound of a call coming in made you jump. jaehyun patted his front pocket and took his cell phone out, it was none other than lee taeyong, you rolled your eyes without jaehyun seeing you and he took the call.

"we're in front of her house, yah... calm down, i'm about to go back to the frat, we won't do anything tonight..." his words made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks turned redder than you thought they were already after the hot kissing session. jaehyun was going along with your lie and that was so... sneaky.

"i have to go, i don't want to have another penalty for leaving the rooms late" jaehyun took a deep breath and put both hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly search for the keys. you were kind of disappointed that it all ended like this tonight, being interrupted by that motherfucker.

"okay then, see you around...?" he said, with some doubt in his voice, you looked up and noticed a sparkle in his eyes. hope. as if it were a romantic movie, you dropped everything you had in your hands and you kiss his lips, a short and pure kiss, but full of feelings and desire, jaehyun could barely flinch because you quickly separated, when you turned embarrassed, a smile already decorated her reddish lips.

"thank you jaehyun"

"why do you thank me?"

"just because of everything..." you smile shyly, alcohol does have a strong effect on you. "see you later" you assured and that made jaehyun feel safe. your word was everything. soon you would see each other again.

a week later, you hadn't seen jaehyun near the college, even though you didn't want to be so obvious looking around for him, you always kept an eye on the crowd when you were walking around campus.

finally, the only thing you know about him is that he belongs to the boxing club, nothing else.

also, you don't know where the boxing club is.

would it be weird for you to ask for the location?

the uncomfortable questions from the people who attended the party that friday were all around you but ceased on tuesday when that topic was no longer new.

jinsol recommended you not see jaehyun anymore, when you questioned her why she simply said "there are many rumors around him, i don't want that to involve you" even though you tried to understand her, the word rumors, were very ambiguous; what other rumors will exist around Jung Jaehyun besides the ones you heard in the cafeteria?

otherwise, jungeun sent you a lot of messages apologizing to you for telling taeyong about your "closeness" and that she didn't expect you to have fucked jaehyun. well, it was a lie, but only he and you knew that.

you stopped thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days and focused on the strong pain you felt in your neck, it must be the stress, you thought. although the summer vacations were approaching and with it the end of the semester, you felt a bit pressured with the exams and final deliveries, yesterday you did nothing but study and now these were the results. you fondled the painful part and let out a small moan.

taking classes on saturdays, having body pain and the extreme heat was the perfect recipe to alter your mood, even though you were wearing a light button-down shirt and shorts you felt the sticky feeling on your skin beginning to upset you.

you decided to stop at starbuck's to buy something cold, as soon as you arrived at the establishment the air system greeted you, thank heavens the place was not so crowded and there were some empty tables, you thought if it would be a good idea to sit down for a bit to check the essay you were about to submit next week.

"hello welcome, may i take your order?"

"hi, i'd like a venti ice americano, please-"

"two venti ice americano, please."

you were interrupted when someone taller than you, perched on your right. it was none other than jung jaehyun, smiling warmly at the cafe worker with those beautiful dimples, you were dumbfounded, the woman typed the computer and confirmed the order, jaehyun in one brisk movement, pulled out the cash ready to pay for you.

"my treat, okay?" he said, how was it possible that he did everything so naturally? you could barely say anything, you merely mumbled a slight thank you, but he looked so comfortable around you that you didn't know what to do.

when your coffees were delivered, you sat down at a table in the back. strangely, you felt like a girl on her first date of a lifetime, your heart was pounding hard against your chest and your hands were sweating, no matter how hard you tried to wipe them against the fabric of your shorts it wasn't enough.

"thanks for the coffee, jaehyun" was all you managed to say, he squeaked and took a sip of his coffee.

"it's nothing" he shrugged his shoulders downplaying it, he shook his hair and you noticed light beads of sweat, surely he came from training or something. also, you saw that the wounds from his fists were still there, but not only that… the veins on his arm and hands were too marked, that image was so hot. you had never had any fixation with people's hands, but seeing jaehyun's hands made you change your mind and you couldn't think of them touching you, around your neck or on your… "y/n?" you jumped in place when you heard him call out to you. "are you okay? it seems your mind is occupied with something else" he recited as if he could read your thoughts, you swallowed saliva and quickly denied.

"it's not that, it's just… i'm a little stressed from school these days, i've barely been able to rest properly" your hand caressed the back of your neck, massaging it lightly. jaehyun's eyes carefully followed your every move without you noticing.

"i can tell, I've heard that the finance department is very strict and stern, isn't it?" wait a minute, how does he know which department you belong to? hearing that threw you off a bit and you couldn't help but ask him.

"how do you know I'm in the finance department?" jaehyun smiled as if he had been caught.

"well, i've heard a lot about you."

it only took a second for your face to change color. what could he have heard about you? you wanted to ask, but your throat closed up in that moment. you felt your body tremble from the thoughts growing in your mind. why was jaehyun suddenly so interested in you? was it because of the lie, perhaps? jaehyun might have noticed the change in your expression and let out a small laugh. that was all it took for all the embarrassment to drain from your body, making the atmosphere lighter and allowing your muscles to relax. without meaning to, you smiled too.

you realized how easy it was to talk to him. despite his attractive appearance, anyone would think he would be the typical arrogant guy for being part of a sports club and sleeping with many girls, but jung jaehyun was the complete opposite.

you kept bumping into things as your drink slowly dwindled, leaving only the ice cubes in sight. even though the conversation flowed naturally, you both knew you were skirting around the main issue, avoiding the heart of the matter. if only you hadn't been interrupted yesterday—what would have happened? would jaehyun have slept with you? so many questions, and a mix of fear about knowing the answers.

"do you mind if I walk you home? It's getting late" jaehyun suggested, swirling his glass in the air, causing the ice cubes to clink from side to side. you glanced at your own glass, now empty. you had both lost track of time. when jaehyun stood up, a strange feeling hit your stomach, and without thinking, you bit your lip. your house was close by, so you decided to play it cool and go along with whatever random topic he’d start talking about next.

on the way home, you couldn't stop thinking about what to do. would it be too cold to just walk inside and act like nothing’s happening? would it be too much to ask him to come inside with you? would he think you're too easy? you weren’t sure of the answers to the flood of questions swirling in your mind, but one thing was certain—you both felt the sexual tension. even when your shoulders brushed against each other, you could feel electricity shoot through your body with every tiny touch. jaehyun seemed calm, or at least that’s the image he was trying to project.

once you stood in front of your apartment door, jaehyun spoke: "I really enjoyed the conversation. rest well, y/n" jaehyun slipped his hands into his pockets and gave you a small, lopsided smile. "I hope next time we meet, you don’t act like a stranger." you parted your lips, searching for the right words. his face seemed like it was waiting for something more.

are you waiting for something more? you thought. it was hard to say goodbye now, and without hesitating, you said:

"hey, jaehyun, it’s saturday and it’s still early. why don’t you come in?" you rubbed your arm, trying to calm yourself, as your heart raced a mile a minute. the seconds you waited for his response felt like years. jaehyun's smile widened, and he nodded.

you opened the door and felt the warmth of your home welcoming you, while inside, your mind was spinning. I invited him. I actually did it. in reality, it was the first time you had brought a guy over—someone of the opposite sex, someone you were interested in.

and you were interested in him in the most sexual way possible.

"thanks for inviting me" jaehyun said with a grateful smile, showing off his adorable dimples. you weren’t sure if it was the whole situation, but even that innocent gesture sent a wave of heat through your body, especially between your legs. quickly, you took off your hoodie and tied your hair into a ponytail.

"it's been really hot today. do you mind if I take a quick shower?" you asked, waving your hands as if trying to cool yourself down. jaehyun raised an eyebrow, curious.

"go ahead, I’ll wait," he said, sitting down on the small sofa in your living room. you could feel two things pulsing: your heart and your vagina.

suddenly, the mood shifted, as your movements became a bit clumsy—like when you accidentally kicked the edge of the dining table, causing you to curse under your breath. when jaehyun moved closer to help, you quickly pushed his chest away. "I’m fine!" you repeated, not looking him in the eye.

"if it feels awkward, wouldn’t it be better if I leave?" jaehyun's voice was calm, trying to understand you. it was more than obvious that you were feeling uneasy about everything that had happened between the two of you, and he understood why the situation suddenly felt weird.

"n-no!" you quickly said, looking at him with concern. jaehyun stepped a little closer. "you don’t want to... do that?" your cheeks turned pink, and your gaze dropped to your feet, feeling truly embarrassed. jaehyun let out a small chuckle, realizing that, in fact, you were a complete virgin, acting like a high school girl.

"what’s so funny?" your cheeks puffed up, feeling both embarrassed and a little annoyed at the thought that jaehyun might be making fun of you.

"nothing, you’re just really cute,’ he said, lifting your chin to lock eyes with you. you could see the confidence in his gaze while you were a bundle of nerves and anxiety. "you’re really beautiful, y/n" his free hand now took yours, which was smaller than his, and that only turned jaehyun on even more. slowly, he walked back to the sofa and sat down, leaving you standing in front of him, your chest right in his view. "in any case, there’s no need to shower... you’re going to sweat again anyway." your face flushed even more, fully grasping the double meaning of his words, but your body jolted slightly as you felt jaehyun’s warm hands slide under your shirt, moving up to reveal your breasts, pushing your bra out of the way. you had to admit, the sight of jaehyun massaging your breasts was undeniably hot.

you were lost in his soft and exciting touch that you didn't notice when jaehyun caught your left nipple between his lips, the hot and wet sensation of his tongue making you gasp. the man's hands slid over your waist, pulling you closer to him, you were so fucking horny.

a new sensation made you jump as jaehyun grabbed the other nipple with his fingertips, rubbing it. you felt wetter and wetter, weaker and weaker, and if it weren't for jaehyun's strong arm holding you, you might have fallen at any moment.

you don't know how much time passed, but jaehyun switched to your other nipple, and you could see how the left one was shining with saliva and swollen... an image that made you even wetter and feel incredibly hot.

"let's go to bed" in an instant, he pulled your soft flesh out of his mouth, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, his lips swollen and shiny with saliva. though you were a little dizzy with excitement, you hadn’t realized how far things had gone. you were about to head to your bed—then what would happen?

before you knew it, you were already lying on your bed with jaehyun on top of you. you watched as he took off his shirt, revealing his well-toned body, worthy of someone who belonged to the boxing club. he tossed the shirt somewhere in the room and leaned down to kiss your lips with hunger and desire. obscene sounds escaped from his mouth, gasps and moans filling the room.

jaehyun's fingers reached your panties, pulling them aside to finally touch your most intimate place, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

‘it's really wet down here,’ he said with a smile on his face, slowly caressing you. his fingers slid over your flesh, from your clitoris to your labia. why did it feel so good? despite the intense sensation, you felt embarrassed, covering your face with both hands. ‘are you sure you've never done this before?’ jaehyun asked with a grin, as his fingers stroked you up and down."

“I told you that I have never—AGH!’ you couldn’t even finish the sentence because something entered your body. jaehyun had inserted one of his long fingers, which quickly began to move in and out. it was your first time, and the sensation was strange and a little painful; your face contorted and your body stiffened. you were so tight that it hurt, but soon your moans turned into pleasurable groans. was this the power of jung jaehyun that all the girls talked about? the feeling of someone else doing it was truly different; you would never have reached this level of excitement on your own. jaehyun added another finger, and the wet sounds echoed even more in the room. without warning, a knot formed in your stomach, and you knew something was about to happen, so you quickly grabbed jaehyun’s wrist, trying to stop him. “w-wait, ah! I f-feel... I feel something coming...’” as soon as you finished the sentence, a clear stream shot out, soaking the pink sheets of your bed. you let out a sweet moan that made jaehyun doubly hard. you closed your eyes, recovering from the incredible orgasm you had just experienced. when you opened them, you saw jaehyun’s proud expression and a large puddle in your crotch—again, the wet sheets. “but what the—! I just washed them this week!” you almost started crying because washing sheets is the worst. jaehyun just giggled. before you knew it, he was unzipping his pants and...

what he released from between his legs was not something ordinary. come on, you had never seen one in person, but this was nothing like what you had seen in porn pages or the images that strangers sent to your message inbox. this was simply huge in every sense of the word. how was it possible that it could fit inside you? the tip was pink, and veins started from the base of his abdomen, wrapping around it. it looked quite hard, and you could barely appreciate it before he began to roll a condom over it. where had he gotten it? who knows, but you couldn't stop thinking about the size. “what’s wrong, y/n?” obviously, your reaction had thrilled him, feeding his ego. “do you think it won’t fit?” one corner of his lips curled into a sly smile.

"are you challenging me? of course, bring it on!’ you said, feeling confident because y/n wasn't just any girl; you were a competitive girl, and this was nothing. you knew it would hurt at first, yes, but your hunger for sex was stronger, and you were sure that soon you would have that chunk of meat buried deep in your wet pussy.

"I like confident girls" jaehyun said, leaning his face closer to yours and licking his lips with lust as he took your legs, positioning himself between them. once he was nestled between you, he ran his hands over your captivating body. first, he gently took your shoulders, caressing them from top to bottom, then he traced his warm tongue along your neck, sending shivers throughout your body—especially in your swollen pussy. afterward, he massaged your breasts, which weren’t particularly big, and sometimes you felt insecure about that. however, seeing how perfectly they fit in jaehyun's hands made you feel so sexy. did jaehyun think the same?

how was it possible for him to be so good at this? his touch quickly left you weak and dizzy. was it because he had had a lot of sex before? that was clear; he was handsome, had a great body, and above all, he was well-endowed down there. no girl could resist.

"I’m going to put it in" he leaned closer to your face, and you felt his warm breath. that’s when you realized that what was about to enter you was something big, hard, and thick. maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him like that. perhaps just a little, you were starting to fear that the process would be too painful.

you clung to his arms as he slowly slid inside you. he caressed your cheek and whispered, "relax, don’t tense your body too much"

it was easy for him to say that, as he wasn’t the one being penetrated. however, he was incredibly gentle, even when he was fully inside you, your body stiffened. your head tilted back as you breathed quickly, trying to adjust to what had been inserted into you for the first time. "I won’t move until you feel ready, okay?" his nose brushed against yours in a compassionate gesture, and even that filled your heart. small tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, and it was jaehyun who gently wiped them away. "you’re doing so well, y/n."

despite the pain that ran through your body, your mind was focused on the pleasure that the situation was giving you: jaehyun’s naked body on top of you, jaehyun inside you, jaehyun with a blush on his face, jaehyun having sex with you. it was the only thing you could think about, and it only made you wetter. little by little, the pain faded, and suddenly you were begging him in a voice that betrayed your surrender, asking jaehyun to move.

then, the hard and fast thrusts came without hesitation. you could only focus on how your breasts bounced and how barely you could hold back your gasps of pleasure. jaehyun looked satisfied, seeing the sheer thrill on your face. you couldn’t think straight; you could barely keep your eyes open, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last, as you were getting wetter with each movement.

‘wow, you’re really soaked,’ jaehyun commented with a grin on his face, almost as if he were mocking your state. you didn’t even care; instead, you pulled him closer, clinging tightly to his body.

suddenly, your phone started ringing—someone was calling you. it was so unexpected, and jaehyun seemed to care about it as he paused and asked, ‘you should probably answer that.’ but before he could even reach for the phone, you grabbed his hand and guided it to your breast, whispering softly, ‘don’t stop, please,’ while biting your lip. you were close, you could feel it, and whoever was calling could go to hell right now.

this made jaehyun even more turned on. for a moment, he didn’t know how to react, but as your legs wrapped around him again, he could only smirk, proud of his bedroom skills, enough to have the ex-virgin begging him not to stop. he knew you were enchanting, but he didn’t know just how much. so, he grabbed your waist, lifting it to penetrate you deeper and faster. this technique made your moans even louder, filled with pure excitement. combined with the sounds of skin slapping, the creak of the bed, and jaehyun’s gasps, it all created a unique melody in the room.

“oh, i'm going to cum...” jaehyun warned as his movements became harder against your body, you felt the pounding hit hard against your hips and how his fingers were marked on your waist painfully, but all this combined only brought you closer to climax too and from one moment to the next you were untying the knot in your stomach through a sweet orgasm, giving a squeal as a result. jaehyun took off the full condom and looked at you on the bed, trying to catch your breath, your legs quivering with pleasure and your nipples still erect. there was no choice but to take another condom. “ready for round two?” he whispered in your ear.

although, you were processing how good your first time having sex had been, you didn't think you were completely ready for a second round, however, you couldn't resist against jaehyun, and without thinking, you ended up sweaty and exhausted after 4 more rounds. 

it had been two weeks since that night with jaehyun—two long, chaotic weeks where everything seemed to fall apart piece by piece. a fire had broken out in an apartment two floors above yours, thick smoke swallowing the hallways, alarms screaming through the building. even though your place hadn't been damaged, the inspectors had evacuated everyone to assess the structure. you'd bounced from couch to couch, staying with friends for a night or two at most, but their living situations were tight—shared sorority houses, cramped apartments, boyfriends already occupying the only free space. now, you sat alone on a bench across from the university, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through your contacts, desperate for someone, anyone, to call. going back to your mother’s place wasn’t an option—you knew the arguments would start the second you walked through the door. you craved your independence, even if it meant being homeless for a few days. the problem was, you didn’t have the money for a hotel. not even close.

you look at jaehyun's contact for a second, you stop to think if it would be a good idea to call him, I mean, you barely know each other, you slept together once, would that be enough of an excuse for him to let you live with him for a while?

you don’t know what to expect when he answers. you’re clutching your phone like it might slip out of your hand from how fast your pulse is racing. and now, with your apartment unlivable, your options reduced to zero, you’re doing the last thing you wanted—calling him.

it rings. once. twice.

then you hear his voice, smooth and casual like nothing’s changed.

“hey. y/n?”

you swallow thickly, your voice trembling despite how much you try to sound fine.

“hi. i know it’s… late. and random. and maybe you don’t want to hear from me, but i didn’t know who else to call.”

there’s a pause, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s quiet, like he’s listening closely.

“what’s wrong?”

you sigh, eyes stinging as the reality settles deeper into your chest.

“there was a fire in my building. the apartment above mine is completely destroyed, and the structure’s unsafe. they told me i can’t stay there. i don’t really… have anywhere to go right now.”

another pause. this one longer. you brace yourself for something like damn, that sucks or hope you figure it out.

instead, he says softly, “i’m at the pool hall with a couple of friends. you can come. we’ll talk here.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just whisper, “okay. send me the location.”

you arrive about thirty minutes later. the place is half-lit, old wooden floors scuffed from years of dragging chairs and boots, the smell of beer and smoke embedded into the walls. the second you step in, you spot him—jaehyun, in a black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders and jeans that do too much justice to his thighs. he’s bent over a table, lining up a shot, lips parted slightly in concentration. he looks good. too good.

when he notices you, his face relaxes. his body straightens. no hesitation.

he waves you over. “you made it.”

you nod, offering a small smile. “hi.”

“guys, this is y/n,” he says, turning to the two men beside him. “yuta, taeyong.”

they both greet you, yuta with a mischievous glint in his eye and taeyong with something a little softer. polite, but unmistakably curious.

“nice to meet you,” yuta says, and you catch his eyes flicker down your outfit—tight jeans, fitted top, just casual enough to not scream i dressed up for someone, but still enough to make their jaws subtly tighten.

jaehyun sees it. you feel it in the way he stands a little closer to you.

“chill,” he tells them, easy but pointed. “she’s way out of your league.”

they laugh, pretending like they weren’t staring, and jaehyun turns back to you.

“want a beer?”

“sure.”

he brings one for you without asking what kind. cold glass touches your palm, and his fingers brush yours just a second longer than necessary. he doesn’t mention the call again. doesn’t ask you anything serious. just hands you a stick and nods at the table.

“you play?”

“twice. maybe. terribly.”

he grins. “that’s more than most.”

you play a few turns. he’s good. effortlessly good. you’re not, but you’re trying. then your turn comes up again, and you bend over to line up your shot. you don’t realize how far you’re leaning until you feel it—the air shifts. someone’s watching.

you glance sideways. yuta’s not even trying to hide the way he’s looking.

jaehyun clears his throat, sharp.

“dude. seriously?”

yuta looks away like a scolded child, taeyong biting back a smile.

jaehyun’s voice is low now, just for you. “you might want to bend less, unless you want to start a war.”

you raise a brow, playfully. “they’re just looking.”

“yeah, and i don’t like it.”

he walks around the table, stops behind you. “want help?”

you nod, and he steps close. closer than he needs to. his front presses lightly against your back, firm and warm. he leans down, guiding your arms, his chest flush to you, his breath skating along the shell of your ear.

“hit the green. angle it toward the corner pocket. trust me, you’ll nail it.”

but you’re not listening. not really. not when his hand slides just a little too far down your arm, or when his hips nudge forward, enough to feel him. he’s doing it on purpose. there’s no way he isn’t.

you shift, bump your elbow lightly into his ribs. “you’re kind of all over me. i can’t focus like that.”

he chuckles, stepping back with both hands raised. “my bad. force of habit.”

you shoot. the ball sinks clean.

his voice lights up. “see? you are good.”

you smile despite yourself. “maybe you’re not a terrible coach.”

he high-fives you, fingers curling briefly around yours, and for a while, the game continues. laughter. teasing. another round of beers. the weight between you two loosens just a bit—but never disappears.

eventually, it’s time to leave. the guys stretch and yawn, pretending they aren’t already planning their next stop.

“we were thinking of hitting that new bar on third,” yuta says.

“nah,” jaehyun replies instantly, grabbing his jacket. “i’m taking y/n home.”

taeyong raises a brow but doesn’t argue. “alright. catch you later.”

once outside, the air feels cooler. quieter. you walk in silence for a few blocks, your body relaxing more than you expected. and then he says it.

“so… what happened exactly?”

you exhale, the weight returning. “the apartment above mine caught fire. no one got hurt, but they say the building’s not safe. i can’t go back until it’s inspected and fixed. and all my friends live with their boyfriends, or in places too cramped to take someone in.”

he nods slowly, not pushing.

“you can stay with me,” he says after a beat. “just… not tonight.”

you look up at him, confused. “why not?”

he scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

“my roommate kicked me out for the night. his girlfriend’s coming over, and well… you know.”

you do. you laugh a little, half amused, half exhausted. “so that’s why you were out?”

“yeah. didn’t feel like hearing them fuck through the wall.”

you both fall silent, until he looks to the right. neon lights spill across the sidewalk in pinks and reds. your eyes follow his line of sight.

a motel.

he glances back at you, one brow lifted. “wanna crash there for tonight? i’ll get you a room.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes. please.”

he smiles, soft and genuine this time. “come on, then.”

and for the first time that night, you feel like you might actually sleep without everything collapsing around you.

the motel room was small and stuffy, the thick summer air clinging to your skin the moment you stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, and jaehyun immediately moved to the wall-mounted control, turning on the air conditioner with a low hum that filled the silence. still, it was warm, your skin damp with sweat and exhaustion. you sat on the edge of the bed, waving a hand lazily in front of your face as you tried to cool off, your other hand pushing your hair away from your neck.

“fuck, it’s hot,” you muttered, fingers fumbling with your hair, searching for a hair tie that wasn’t there.

“here,” jaehyun said, tossing something onto the bed beside you. it was a small plastic bag, printed with the motel’s name in red cursive. you opened it, expecting maybe a water bottle or a towel, but instead found a collection of travel-sized soaps, a tiny bottle of shampoo, a mint, two condoms in gold wrappers… and a hair tie. your fingers brushed over it before you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“you know this place too well.”

he scoffed, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “maybe you’re just the one who doesn’t know anything.”

his voice held a mocking edge, teasing you like he always did, like he hadn’t fucked you stupid on your own bed two weeks ago and left without so much as a real goodbye.

you reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the small collection of motel goodies, letting your fingers slide over the items until they wrapped around the foil square. it crinkled softly between your fingertips as you held it up, raising your brows as your eyes flicked to him.

“do these even fit you?” you asked, tone playful but low, teasing.

he huffed a quiet laugh, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stepped closer, arms still crossed over his chest.

“not really,” he said. “those are standard size. they don’t fit me right.”

you rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks burned with something you didn’t want to name. reaching back, you tied your hair up with the elastic, then stood up to stretch, pretending not to care that he was watching you.

jaehyun checked his phone and sighed. “i should go. the guys are probably already at the next bar.”

your chest tightened, confusion blooming low and sour in your stomach. you blinked. “you’re leaving?”

“wasn’t the plan to crash here just for you?” he teased, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

you hesitated, lips parting. you didn’t want to ask him to stay. you didn’t want to sound needy. but the thought of him walking out again, of sleeping alone in a motel bed you hadn’t paid for, filled you with a sudden ache.

“it’s hot as hell out there,” you said, stepping closer. “you should shower. you’ll feel better.”

he arched a brow. “i showered before going out.”

“so what?” you shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “i think you should shower again.”

he stared at you for a beat, eyes darkening as the realization clicked into place. “ah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “so that’s what this is.”

your body moved before you could think—crawling up onto the bed, slow and deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. he didn’t move, just watched as you reached him, rising on your knees to press your palms to his chest. his shirt was soft and damp against your fingers. you tilted your face up to his, lips barely brushing his collarbone.

“don’t go,” you whispered. “you’re already here… might as well make it worth it.”

his hand slid to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, lips ghosting over your temple as he muttered, low and sinful, “you’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

your heart skipped a beat. you weren’t even trying to hide the way your gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. his words shouldn’t have made your thighs press together like that, shouldn’t have sent that deep, pulsing warmth down your spine, but fuck—he was so casual about it, so sure of himself, it made your breath hitch. he was already hard. you could see it now. and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

you let the condom fall onto the bed as your hand drifted slowly to the front of his pants, fingers hovering before you made contact. the heat radiating through the fabric was almost unbearable, and when you finally palmed him through it, his jaw flexed. your voice came out soft, a little shaky, but full of intent.

“can i see it?”

his eyes darkened immediately, and he didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you with that unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. then he nodded, slow and sure, backing up and letting himself fall onto the bed. he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion and laid back, propping his hands behind his head, the muscles of his arms flexing, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that made your mouth go dry.

“go ahead,” he murmured, “since you’re so curious.”

his pants were already unbuttoned, boxers peeking out from the waistband. your gaze dropped to the heavy outline straining against the fabric, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for him. it was your first time doing this—your first time touching a guy like this—and you felt nervous, eager, clumsy all at once. you tugged his pants lower until they pooled around his thighs, revealing the thick bulge beneath his briefs.

when you finally pushed those down too, your eyes widened slightly. your hand wrapped around him, a little too firm, and you felt him twitch under your touch.

“not so rough,” he said, his voice low, half-laughing, half-breathless. “be gentle.”

you nodded, swallowing hard, adjusting your grip, your thumb brushing along the tip. the weight and warmth of him in your palm was foreign and overwhelming. your head dipped forward and you kissed him there, soft and uncertain. he sucked in a breath, his abs tightening, his hand still behind his head but his knuckles whitening with the way he gripped the pillow.

you let your tongue trace slowly along the underside, tasting him, feeling him throb with every slow movement. then you wrapped your lips around the head and began to take him in, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit just yet.

he made a sound—a sharp breath, a curse under his breath—and when you looked up, his face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded with something between shock and desperation.

“am i doing it right?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your lips glossy, your voice soft and unsure.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “you’re gonna kill me if you keep looking at me like that.”

his hips bucked slightly, involuntary, and you took him deeper this time, slowly, carefully, adjusting to the rhythm, feeling the way his thighs tensed beneath your touch. his breathing grew heavier, his abs flexing with every flick of your tongue, every soft suck, every messy, eager movement. he reached down, fingers threading into your hair, not to guide you, just to anchor himself, as if grounding his sanity with the feeling of you.

“shit, baby—” he moaned, his voice rough now, desperate. “just like that. don’t stop.”

you didn’t. you hollowed your cheeks and moved faster, more confident now, loving the way he twitched on your tongue, the way his composure was crumbling second by second. his fingers tightened in your hair and his thighs trembled slightly.

“fuck, i’m close—” he gasped.

you kept going, feeling his release building, tasting the salty pre-come on your tongue, and when he finally came with a low, strangled groan, hips jerking, voice broken and raw—he said your name like a plea.

you swallowed, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you looked up at him. he looked dazed, ruined, beautiful. his chest was heaving, sweat on his brow, his skin flushed.

“jesus,” he whispered, a half-laugh escaping his lips as he finally let go of your hair. “where the hell did you learn to do that?”

you just smiled, your lips still tingling, proud of yourself, of how undone he looked—like you were the only one who had ever touched him like that.

you crawled back up the bed, breath still shallow from everything you had just done, and started peeling your clothes off one by one. your fingers fumbled slightly from how needy you felt, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without care, followed by your bra, panties, everything that separated your burning skin from his. his eyes were on you the entire time—hungry, intense, reverent. he didn’t say anything, just licked his lips and let his gaze roam across your body like he was starving for it.

“i want to ride you,” you said, voice low, thick with want.

his mouth parted slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes, before he leaned over to grab something from his wallet on the nightstand. “wait,” he murmured, pulling out a foil wrapper—different from the motel ones. thicker, black, and unmistakably his. “these are the ones that actually fit.”

you watched him tear the wrapper open and roll it on effortlessly, his movements confident but still urgent, like he’d been holding himself back just for you. when he was ready, he laid back again, arms slightly outstretched, his eyes locked on yours.

“come here,” he said. “you can ride me now.”

you bit your lip and moved quickly, like you couldn’t bear to wait another second. and you really couldn’t—you’d been on edge for days. the stress, the instability, not knowing where you’d sleep, all of it had pressed down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. but when you were with him, everything slowed. everything made sense. and right now, you just needed to feel him, to get lost in him.

you straddled his hips, your knees on either side of his thighs, palms pressing against his firm chest. his hands found your waist, warm and steady, as you guided yourself over him. he was so hard, so thick, and as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, you gasped—half from the stretch, half from the overwhelming feeling of finally, finally being this close. his cock filled you inch by inch, making your walls clench around him involuntarily, your breath hitching as you adjusted.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, brows furrowed, his fingers digging into your skin like he was barely holding on.

your eyes fluttered shut as you took him deeper, until your hips met his and your thighs were trembling from the intensity. you rested your hands on his abs, taking a moment to breathe through it, to feel him throbbing inside you.

“you okay?” he asked, voice softer now, thumb brushing along your hip.

you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, slow and messy. then you began to move—shallow at first, testing the pace, but soon you were rolling your hips, finding a rhythm that made your body light up with fire. every movement dragged delicious friction along your walls, and the way he filled you, stretched you, made you moan softly, needily.

his hands slid up to your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peaked, sensitive and aching. he cupped them both, lifting himself slightly to suck one into his mouth. his tongue was hot and wet, swirling around the sensitive nub while his other hand played with the other breast, squeezing, pinching gently, making your hips grind harder against him.

“god, you feel so good,” he murmured against your skin, lips still wrapped around your nipple, his voice sending vibrations through your chest.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as you rode him faster now, the slap of your skin meeting his echoing in the cheap motel room. your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling as the pleasure built. he sucked harder on your breast, then switched to the other, moaning into you like he was addicted to the taste of your skin.

“jaehyun—” you whimpered, grinding down harder, desperate for release. “i’m close…”

“don’t stop,” he said, breathless, one hand sliding down between your bodies to rub tight, fast circles against your clit. “cum for me, baby. let me feel it.”

you cried out, body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, thighs quivering, cunt pulsing around him in waves that felt endless. he grunted beneath you, lost in the way you clenched around him, hips thrusting up as he chased his own high, until with a deep moan and your name on his lips, he came too—hard, twitching inside you, eyes clenched shut, body taut with release.

you collapsed on top of him, breath tangled with his, both of you sweaty, shaky, completely undone.

after a moment of recovery, limbs tangled and skin damp with sweat, jaehyun pulled you close and pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“we should shower,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky. “it’s hot as hell in here.”

you hummed in agreement, letting him guide you out of the bed. your legs felt like jelly, sore and shaky, but his arm stayed around your waist, grounding you. the bathroom light was harsh, flickering slightly like everything else in that old motel, but the water came out warm and steady. steam quickly filled the small space.

you stepped into the shower first, sighing as the water hit your back, washing away the sweat and lingering stickiness. jaehyun stepped in behind you, his body pressing up against yours, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. the moment should’ve been calm, domestic, but his hands couldn’t help but wander.

his lips brushed your neck, wet and slow, while his fingers slid up your stomach to cup your breasts again. “couldn’t stop thinking about these,” he whispered, licking a droplet of water from your shoulder.

you tilted your head, letting him kiss you deeper. your back arched instinctively, pressing into him, and you felt his cock hardening against the curve of your ass. “again?” you teased breathlessly.

“you’re too fucking hot not to,” he said, voice rough, before turning you around so your back was against the cold tile. his mouth claimed yours, tongue exploring like he hadn’t just come not long ago. he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his hip, and the tip of his cock rubbed against your folds, teasing.

you gasped as he slipped inside again—this time slower, deeper, the water pouring down your bodies as he began to move. the shower was tight, cramped, but that only made it hotter. the sound of skin on skin was drowned by the water, but you could hear him panting in your ear, could feel the way his mouth latched onto your nipple again, his thrusts picking up pace.

you held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, your moans muffled against his neck. it was messy, rushed, passionate. and when you came again, clenching around him, he followed quickly, holding you tight as he spilled inside the condom once more, both of you trembling under the hot spray.

after the shower, you dried off, still breathless, your legs wobbling every time you moved. you collapsed into bed with a sigh, pulling the thin sheet over your body. jaehyun lay beside you for a few minutes, stroking your hair, until sleep started to pull you under.

when you woke up, sunlight was leaking through the curtains, weak and golden. the bed beside you was empty. you blinked against the brightness, groaning at the soreness in your thighs and hips. everything hurt deliciously. you reached for your phone on the nightstand, and saw a message waiting from jaehyun.

had to leave early. training. don’t worry about time, i extended the checkout. i’ll call you when i’m done and take you to my place. there’s food for you on the table. eat, baby.

you sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. on the small glass table near the window sat a paper bag from starbucks. you got up, curious, and opened it to find a warm cheese sandwich and your favorite coffee. it made you smile—something about the quiet thoughtfulness of it, after such a dirty night, made your chest feel warm.

later that day, you were sitting on the grass outside campus with your friends—jungeun, jinsol, and sooyoung. the sun was soft and the air carried the scent of spring. they were all staring at you like a pack of wolves, eyes gleaming with barely-concealed curiosity.

“so…” jungeun started, tilting her head, “are you going to keep avoiding our questions, or are you finally going to spill?”

“you kept your secret very well” jinsol added with a smirk. “you disappeared overnight and came back all smiley and glowing. bitch, don’t lie.”

you looked away, sipping your iced tea and trying to play it cool. “we’ve just been hanging out… it’s nothing serious.”

“nothing serious my ass,” sooyoung said, lying on her back and shielding her eyes from the sun. “ you think we don't remember how you got when he arrived at the party?”

you blushed furiously, heart pounding, but tried to keep your tone steady. “i’m not giving you the details. and definitely not about that.”

jinsol groaned. “come on. we just want to know one thing.”

“is his dick as perfect as we imagine?” jungeun whispered dramatically, making everyone laugh.

you covered your face with your hands. “i’m not talking about his dick.”

“that’s not a no,” sooyoung chimed in.

you tried not to laugh, cheeks burning. “we’ve only gone out a couple times. that’s all.”

jinsol leaned in closer. “i think it’s only a matter of time before you two become official. honestly, he seems like he really likes you.”

but sooyoung shook her head. “nah. not yet. she hasn’t gotten over dong sicheng.”

that name hit you like a soft, invisible bruise. you looked down at your drink, lips pressed together.

“he was just… a phase,” you muttered.

sooyoung arched a brow. “a phase you’ve been stuck on for like a year.”

“he never liked me like that anyway,” you said, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “i was just his art buddy. his therapist. his background character.”

“yeah, well,” jungeun said gently, “maybe jaehyun’s your plot twist.”

you didn’t reply. but for a moment, you let yourself imagine that possibility. and it didn’t feel so far-fetched.

“actually,” jungeun chimed in, casually tossing a piece of grass into the air, “i heard something about sicheng.”

your head snapped in her direction before you could stop yourself. your heart skipped and thumped oddly in your chest.

“yeah?” you tried to sound indifferent, but the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

“mhm,” she said, glancing at the others. “one of the girls from the art department told me he’s coming back this semester. apparently he finally sorted out his exchange paperwork.”

“guess you’ll be bumping into him again,” sooyoung said, nudging your shoulder with a teasing smirk. “don’t go falling all over him again. please use your brain this time.”

“i didn’t—” you started, but then just sighed. “i know.”

jinsol gave you a knowing look. “well, i hope you don’t fuck it up with jaehyun over some old fantasy. like… jaehyun’s not just hot. he’s actually a good guy.”

sooyoung snorted. “a hot guy with a career path and muscle definition that could resurrect me.”

“he’s not just hot,” jungeun added, more serious. “he’s crazy talented. my brother’s obsessed with local sports and he says jaehyun’s a legend around here. three-time regional boxing champ. undefeated.”

you blinked. “wait, really?”

“mmhmm,” she said. “he’s been competing for like three years straight. he’s got insane discipline. trains daily, eats clean, sleeps early unless he’s too busy fucking you apparently—ow!” she laughed when you slapped her thigh in protest.

but your mind was already conjuring images… jaehyun in the ring, sweat dripping from his brow, his jaw set with sharp focus. his body gleaming under the lights—broad shoulders, cut arms, those tight abs tensing as he dodges, lunges, throws a punch. bruises on his ribs, a scratch near his lip, blood maybe on the edge of his gloves. heat rises to your cheeks as the image lingers—his body slightly damaged but so undeniably alive and powerful, all for something he loves.

he wasn’t just hot. he was dedicated. passionate. and god, he looked good doing it.

sooyoung sighed dramatically beside you. “i want a boyfriend like that. good body. good face. and a dick that ruins lives.”

“jesus christ,” jinsol muttered, snorting into her drink.

“what?” sooyoung shrugged. “i’m just saying. it’s the dream.”

you shook your head, cheeks flushed. “he’s not my boyfriend.”

they all stared at you.

“yet,” jungeun said, grinning.

you looked down at your phone, pretending to be unbothered, but the way your stomach flipped said otherwise.

not your boyfriend. not officially.

but the way he touched you. the way he looked at you like you mattered—like he saw more than just sex.

it made you wonder.

what if he could be?

at sunset, you’re waiting just outside the university gym, sitting on the edge of a planter box as the warm, golden light spills across the campus. the air still holds a trace of the day’s heat, but it's softened now, carried gently by the evening breeze. your phone buzzes in your lap, but you ignore it, eyes focused on the gym entrance.

jaehyun walks out a moment later, his presence like gravity pulling your attention. he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that clings slightly to his damp skin, khaki shorts that show off his toned legs, and worn white sneakers. his training bag is slung over one shoulder, and droplets of water still trail from the ends of his freshly washed hair. he must’ve taken a quick shower after practice. his smile is soft, those signature dimples showing as he spots you.

“you ready to head to the apartment?” he asks, stopping in front of you. his voice is calm, smooth, like there's no rush.

“yeah, but… before that, i want to take you out to eat,” you say as you stand, brushing your hands over your clothes.

his brows raise slightly in surprise. “why?”

you shift your weight from one foot to the other. “i just… it’s a thank you. for taking me to the motel, for getting me food, for extending the time. and now you’re letting me stay at your place, so…” you trail off, cheeks heating up.

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “you don’t have to do that. it wasn’t a big deal.”

you bite your lip and shrug. “well, it is to me. no guy’s ever treated me like that before, so… i thought it’d be important.”

that seems to catch him off guard. he stares at you for a second longer, then nods. “alright. i’ll let you treat me. but don’t expect me to be easy to impress,” he teases, the corners of his mouth lifting.

you smile, relieved. “what’s your favorite food?”

he thinks for a second, then frowns. “i don’t really have one. i’ve been on a strict diet lately since i’ve got more tournaments coming up.”

your jaw drops slightly. “what do you mean you don’t have a favorite food? come on.”

he chuckles. “i’m serious. everything’s been about protein, greens, hydration… it’s been pretty boring.”

“that’s tragic,” you say with mock seriousness. “you’re in your twenties and you’re telling me you don’t even crave ramen or tteokbokki?”

“okay, fine,” he laughs. “i haven’t had kimbap in forever. does that count?”

you grin. “perfect. i know this place that makes really good kimbap.”

a little while later, you’re both seated at a small table in a cozy street-side diner. the kimbap comes out quickly, warm and fresh, and jaehyun’s eyes light up when he takes the first bite.

“this is really good,” he says with a satisfied sigh.

“you look happy,” you tease, watching the way he leans back in his seat, finally relaxed.

he nods, swallowing. “i am. i’ve got a big fight coming up—i’ll be up against a nationally ranked fighter. if i win, i’ll qualify for the majors.”

your eyes widen. “that’s huge! jaehyun, oh my god, congratulations!”

he rubs the back of his neck, clearly flustered by your excitement. “thanks… i’m trying not to jinx it.”

“you’re gonna crush it. you’re so disciplined and talented—seriously, it’s inspiring.” you smile at him, and it’s completely honest.

he goes quiet for a second, then looks down with a tiny smile of his own. he’s blushing. the tough, cocky boxer—blushing.

“you’re really bad at taking compliments, huh?” you say, laughing gently.

“maybe,” he replies with a grin, nudging your foot under the table. “but i don’t mind it when it’s you.”

you finish eating with that warm, playful tension between you, the kind that always seems to build whenever you’re with him.

you're walking beside jaehyun along the crowded sidewalk, the sun already sinking low, casting an orange glow on the buildings around you. he’s telling you something about a professor at the university who never shows up on time, and you’re half-listening, half-distracted by the soft drip of water from his hair. he smells faintly of soap and cologne, clean and warm. you smile at the way his voice hums, deep and casual.

but then, suddenly—

“jaehyun!” a bright, feminine voice cuts through the air.

before you can even turn, there’s a girl jumping on him—literally throwing her arms around his neck. you blink, startled, and take a step back. jaehyun catches her easily, like it’s nothing, one of his hands settling on her waist, holding her with casual familiarity. his smile grows wider, those pretty dimples showing instantly.

“noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, clearly happy to see her.

“i came to visit some friends,” she says sweetly, brushing her shiny, curled hair behind her ear. her eyes flick down his body like she’s assessing him. “you’ve gotten taller… or maybe just your shoulders?” she teases, reaching out to squeeze his bicep without hesitation.

you feel something twist in your chest. it’s hot and petty, and you know it, but still—you don’t like the way she’s touching him. you don’t like how close they are. how… familiar they are.

is she his girlfriend?

the thought hits you like a slap. no. no way. that would be cruel—after what you and jaehyun did… after he held you and kissed you and let you ride him like you were the only girl in the world.

the girl finally looks at you. her face lights up with surprise and a sly sparkle in her eyes. she's polished—makeup flawless, glossed lips, expensive jewelry. everything about her screams elegance. you suddenly feel plain in comparison.

“oh?” she says, eyeing you. “are you jaehyun’s girlfriend?”

your stomach drops. but at the same time, some part of you feels… relieved. so she isn't his girlfriend.

“ah… she’s…” jaehyun starts slowly, glancing at you, voice uncertain. “she’s my friend.”

“nice to meet you!” she chirps, stepping forward and taking both your hands enthusiastically. “i’m miyeon, jaehyun’s childhood friend.”

“a-ah… i’m y/n. nice to meet you too,” you say, barely holding your voice steady.

miyeon turns back to him with a soft pout. “jaehyun, you should bring y/n to our store sometime. you haven’t visited in so long.”

“i will. soon,” he says, his tone easy, but not committed. she beams and clings to his arm again, pressing against him in a way that makes your skin burn.

after a bit more small talk, she waves goodbye, and you and jaehyun continue walking. you’re quiet. so is he.

the train ride is short, but quiet too. you’re still chewing on the jealousy simmering low in your stomach. you don’t say a word until you’re back on the street again, just a few blocks from his apartment.

“jaehyun,” you say suddenly, stopping in your tracks.

he turns to face you, brows lifted.

you stand still for a second, then open your arms slightly—awkwardly. as if you’re asking for a hug.

he doesn’t hesitate.

jaehyun steps into you and wraps his arms around your body, holding you close. you melt into his chest.

“are you copying my noona?” he teases softly against your hair.

you shake your head lightly, but your cheeks are burning.

he leans back just enough to look into your eyes. “now i really can’t wait to get home,” he says with a grin and a very obvious double meaning.

you scoff and push him back a little, pretending to be annoyed—but you’re not. not really.

jaehyun unlocks the front door with one hand, still carrying his gym bag over his shoulder. he nudges the door open with his foot, letting you step in first. the place smells faintly of laundry detergent and cedarwood. it’s clean but lived-in, with a few scattered training wraps on the floor and a row of protein bottles lined up neatly on a shelf.

“make yourself at home,” he says, dropping his bag with a dull thud. “my roommate, junhoe, isn’t here. he’s probably off fucking his girl somewhere.”

you chuckle, still standing in the entryway.

jaehyun walks ahead, opening a side door. “this is the study,” he says, gesturing. it’s a small room, barely wide enough to fit a desk and some shelves, but there’s a window with good light and it smells like old books. “i can clean it up and maybe get a futon or something in here if you’re staying.”

you nod slowly, looking around, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. he’s leaned in the doorway now, watching you with that lazy, unreadable gaze, the same one he used to look at you that night at the motel—right before you climbed into his lap.

“there’s an extra mattress in my room,” he adds casually, but his mouth quirks up in a smirk that gives him away. “wanna see?”

you raise a brow. “you’re so subtle, jaehyun.”

he laughs, voice low and warm, and then turns on his heel. you follow him down the short hallway to his bedroom. the lights are dimmed, his bed already made, a dark gray comforter spread out neatly. he gestures toward the corner, where a folded mattress leans against the wall. “see? told you.”

but you’re not looking at the mattress.

you’re looking at him.

at the way the veins in his arms stretch as he runs a hand through his damp hair. at the way his shirt clings to the firm lines of his torso. at the faint red bruise just below his jaw—probably from sparring, but it looks like something you'd want to kiss.

“do you want to shower first?” he asks, turning back to you.

you shake your head. "i already showered earlier.”

“true,” he says, stepping closer. “but that was to wash off the sweat.”

“and this one would be to…”

he’s right in front of you now. inches away. his voice drops to a whisper.

“to get dirty again.”

you don’t move. you just look at him, look at the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his eyes flick to your lips. then you reach out, grab the hem of his shirt, and lift it over his head in one slow, steady motion.

jaehyun breathes in sharp and deep as your fingers skim his chest. his body is insane—broad shoulders, thick arms, chest hard as stone and wrapped in smooth golden skin. faint bruises pepper his ribs, evidence of training, and you drag your hands over one without thinking.

“you’re really something else,” you murmur.

“so are you,” he says hoarsely, fingers already at the waistband of your jeans.

clothes come off fast after that.

you fall together onto the mattress, his mouth hungry on yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, hands exploring, groping, dragging down your back. he moans against your lips when you grind your hips down on his thigh, searching for friction.

then he flips you over.

pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other tracing down your stomach, between your legs.

“still wet,” he murmurs. “even though i haven’t touched you in hours.”

“shut up,” you pant, arching your back.

he chuckles and lowers his head. his mouth finds your neck, your collarbone, your breasts—licking, sucking, biting just enough to leave a mark. you cry out when his fingers finally slide between your folds, slick and slow.

“shit, baby,” he whispers. “you feel so fucking good.”

“then stop teasing me,” you groan.

he smirks. “as you wish.”

and then he’s inside you.

thick. hot. stretching you open all over again.

your back bows. his name spills from your lips like a prayer.

he moves slow at first—deep, careful strokes that make you shudder. but then he picks up the pace. harder. faster. his skin slaps against yours, your breath hitching with every thrust. the bed creaks. his grip bruises your hips. and you love it.

“jaehyun—f-fuck—”

“you like that?” he growls, voice wrecked. “you like being fucked like this? like a real good girl?”

you nod, crying out as your orgasm builds.

“i’m close,” you moan, nails digging into his back.

“come for me, baby,” he pants, kissing your lips hard. “i wanna feel you come around me.”

and you do.

it hits you fast, hard, white-hot.

your whole body trembles. he follows right after, gasping your name, burying himself deep inside you with one final thrust.

you lay there for a while, tangled together, sweat cooling on your skin.

his arms wrapped around you.

his lips brushing your forehead.

jaehyun is quiet for a long time after he comes, his chest rising and falling against yours as he tries to steady his breathing.

the room is dim, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his arms tighten around you, protective and gentle. he nuzzles into your neck, his lips brushing the damp skin there, not in a sexual way this time—more like he's grounding himself in your presence. you lie there, tangled up in sheets and each other, the only sound being the soft hum of the ceiling fan and your hearts calming down in sync.

he eventually pulls away just enough to look at you, eyes hooded but soft, and his fingers trace down the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “are you okay?” he whispers, voice a little raspy, a little concerned.

you nod, smiling faintly, and reach up to cup his cheek. “yeah. just... full. in every way.”

his lips quirk into a crooked smile and he kisses your forehead. “good.” he stands, stretching just a bit before grabbing a clean towel from a nearby shelf. he wipes you down carefully, not rushing, not skipping a beat. he doesn’t say much during it, but the way he handles you—like you’re something delicate, like this moment matters—says everything you need to hear. afterward, he throws the towel into a laundry basket, slips on a pair of loose sweatpants, and pulls a t-shirt over his head. he brings you one of his shirts, big and worn and soft, and you slip it on before curling back into his bed. he climbs in beside you and pulls the blanket over both of you, spooning you close, one hand resting low on your belly, thumb tracing circles into your skin.

you're just starting to doze off in his arms when the front door creaks open and you both hear the familiar thump of sneakers being kicked off.

“yo,” comes a male voice from the hall. jaehyun groans softly and pulls back just enough to peek out from under the blanket.

“junhoe,” he mutters.

a few seconds later, a tall guy with sharp eyes and dyed ash-blond hair pops his head into the room. he freezes when he sees you in bed, cheeks flushing slightly, but he raises a hand in greeting anyway.

“ah... so you finally brought someone home. what’s up?” he says with a knowing smirk.

“shut up,” jaehyun groans.

you sit up slowly, pulling the blanket around yourself as you nod politely. “hi…”

“nice to meet you,” junhoe says. “don’t worry, i’m cool with it. just—maybe not when my girlfriend comes over. she gets… ideas.”

“no problem,” jaehyun replies casually. “i already told her about the study room.”

junhoe raises an eyebrow. “you’re letting her stay here?”

jaehyun just shrugs with that same smirk. “i don’t mind.”

junhoe glances between the two of you and chuckles. “cool. well, i'm grabbing some food and crashing. welcome to the apartment.”

he disappears down the hall and jaehyun flops back down next to you, draping his arm over your waist again. “that went better than i expected.”

“he seems nice,” you murmur, cheek resting against his chest.

jaehyun hums in agreement, and the two of you drift off again—safe, warm, and maybe just a little too comfortable in each other’s arms.

a few days later, you’re at campus, carrying a stack of large framed canvases and a bundle of messy supplies balanced precariously in your arms. you’re on your way to return everything to the storage room after a long morning in the art studio, still wearing a paint-stained hoodie and some old jeans. your focus is on not dropping anything when suddenly, someone rounds the corner at the same time as you—and crashes right into you.

“whoa—shit, sorry!” says a familiar voice as the both of you stumble. your brushes clatter to the ground, but strong arms steady you, grabbing your shoulders gently.

you look up—and your breath catches.

dong sicheng.

he’s smiling, wide and bright, and for a second you almost forget how to speak. his hair is longer now, a little shaggier, his features more defined. he’s still beautiful, unfairly so, but the braces he used to have are gone, replaced by a dazzling, smooth smile. he’s wearing a soft beige sweater and dark slacks, looking expensive in that effortless way he always did. he bends down immediately, helping you pick up your supplies.

“y/n?” he says, looking genuinely happy. “wow—it’s really you”.

“i thought you were on a break?” your voice barely left your mouth.

“i was. but i came back early,” he replies, smiling.

you forcing a smile even though something tugs hard at your chest. “and you… you look great, sicheng.”

he blushes a little, brushing some hair behind his ear. “so do you,” he says, kind as ever. “it’s really good to see you.”

you nod, trying not to let your emotions show. because what are you supposed to say? i missed you. i thought about you more than i should’ve. i wondered what might’ve happened if i’d just said something back then.

but you never did.

and now he’s here, standing in front of you with that same kind warmth in his eyes, and you feel it—nostalgia, longing, something bittersweet blooming in your chest.

you chat for a while, catching up on classes and schedules, and he insists on helping you carry the rest of your things to the storage room. you smile and joke like nothing's off. like you’re not thinking about all the things you never said. because what would be the point now?

still, as he walks beside you, close and careful not to bump your paintings again, you can’t help but glance over at him—at the smile, at the way the sun catches the curve of his jaw.

and you wonder if part of your heart still belongs to him. just a little.

after helping you carry the last of your things to the storage room, sicheng stretches his arms with a quiet sigh and then turns to you with that soft little smile you remember all too well. “hey,” he says, voice gentle, “do you have time for a coffee? i don’t have class until later and… it’d be nice to talk more.”

you hesitate only a second before nodding. “sure. i’d like that.”

you end up at a small café just off campus, tucked between an old bookstore and a flower shop. it’s quiet, the kind of place that smells like roasted beans and cinnamon, with soft music playing through slightly scratchy speakers. you sit by the window, sunlight pouring in and making his hair glow like spun gold. he leans forward on the table, hands wrapped around a cup of matcha, listening to you as you ramble a little about your classes, your projects, the endless deadlines. it feels easy. too easy. almost like the last year never happened.

eventually, curiosity gets the best of you. you glance at him between sips of your drink, then lower your cup and ask, trying to sound casual, “have you been seeing anyone lately?”

he blinks, surprised for a moment. then that smile returns—slow, knowing, maybe even a little amused. “no,” he says. “this year’s been… intense. i’ve been at the dance academy full time, and trying to sort out all the paperwork to get back here took everything out of me.” he shrugs, rolling his cup between his palms. “didn’t leave much space for dating.”

you nod, trying to hide how fast your heart is beating.

“besides,” he adds, his gaze locking onto yours, “there was no one in china who really caught my attention.”

his words hit you in the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs in a way that doesn’t hurt but leaves you speechless. it’s not just what he says—it’s the way he says it, the way his eyes hold yours like he’s daring you to admit something, like he’s just waiting for you to fall into the trap he’s carefully set with his smile and his calm.

you clear your throat. “well… me neither,” you say softly. “no dating. i’ve been really focused on school and, i guess… there’s no one who really stands out to me either.”

he raises his eyebrows a little, his lips curling as if to say “really?” but he doesn’t push. instead, he changes the subject with a soft laugh. “i need to cut my hair soon. i’ve been meaning to, but with everything going on i haven’t had time to rest, let alone make an appointment.”

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes drift over his face, the softness in his features, the way his lashes catch the light.

“but i’m really glad we got to catch up today,” he says, brushing a thumb over the rim of his cup. “i missed this. i missed talking to you. i hope we get to take some classes together this term—maybe even work on a project again. like the old days.”

your heart skips. not in a dramatic, crashing way, but in a quiet flutter that you try not to show on your face. you smile instead, nodding, and say, “yeah. me too.”

the walk back to jaehyun’s place is a blur. your body’s moving through the city, but your mind’s still in that café, replaying the way sicheng looked at you, the calm certainty in his voice, the not-so-innocent way he said there was no one who caught his eye. you keep wondering—was he just being nice? was he flirting? was it real? it shouldn’t matter, not after everything with jaehyun, not when you’ve already crossed that line with someone else… but your heart doesn’t care about timing, or logic, or consequences. it only knows the warm ache of “what if.”

you don’t even realize you’ve arrived until you hear jaehyun’s voice calling out from inside the apartment. “y/n? you’re back?”

you step in, taking off your shoes as the door closes behind you, and he appears from the hallway looking a little flushed, a rag in his hand and a faint sheen of sweat on his neck. “i was just cleaning the studio for you,” he says, waving toward the small room down the hall. “it’s not huge, but with the light in there and some organizing, it’ll be perfect.”

you walk in behind him, noticing how he’s already cleared space in the corner, set up a small table for your supplies, even propped one of your canvases against the wall. on the floor, there’s a mattress laid out neatly with a pillow and blanket, and he turns to you a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“i, uh… i don’t have a bed frame for the extra mattress yet,” he says. “but don’t worry, i’m not gonna make you sleep like that. not when you're my guest.” he gestures toward his bedroom. “so, you’ll sleep with me. i mean—not like with me,” he adds quickly, ears turning red, “just, you know… in my room, you can have the bed if you want. i don’t mind sleeping here.”

you shake your head immediately. “i don’t want to take your space. it’s your room.”

but he just smiles at you, warm and sincere, and steps a little closer. “hey. you’re not taking anything. i want you to be comfortable here. i want you to feel like this is your space too, even if it’s temporary.” he looks at you for a long second, and then adds softly, “having you here… it already makes this place feel a little more like home.”

and just like that, something in your chest tightens—not painfully, but deep. a pull of affection, of something dangerous and familiar. you swallow hard, nodding, and whisper, “thank you, jaehyun.”

he grins, brushing his shoulder lightly against yours before walking off to put away the cleaning supplies, leaving you standing in the doorway of your new studio, heart full of too many things at once.

later that night, after unpacking the essentials and arranging a few of your supplies in the corner, you finally let yourself take a shower. the heat is unbearable—sticky and heavy, like it’s pressing against your skin—and jaehyun’s bathroom fills with steam almost immediately. you linger under the cold stream, letting it cool your body, calm your thoughts, and ease some of the tension still wound tightly in your chest after everything with sicheng.

you dry off and change into the lightest clothes you brought for sleeping: an old, thin cotton shirt and a pair of soft, loose shorts. no bra. it’s too hot, and your skin still feels tender from the shower. you gather your damp hair in a loose bun and step out into the hallway barefoot, following the quiet hum of a fan.

you find jaehyun in the studio—his new temporary bedroom for as long as you're staying. he’s sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands with a small oscillating fan blowing directly at his face. his black sleeveless shirt clings to his chest and shoulders, damp from sweat. the fabric is tight, showing off the sharp lines of his arms and torso, and the light gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips do nothing to distract from the way he looks: hot, flushed, and visibly uncomfortable.

you pause at the doorway, arms folded loosely across your chest, and tilt your head. “you look like you’re suffering.”

he turns to you, blinking slowly, his eyes dragging down your frame. you watch him swallow before giving you a small smile, breathless and sheepish. “yeah, the fan’s not doing much. this room is like an oven.”

you glance toward the hallway, then back at him. “you should sleep in your room. it’s cooler in there, and the a/c works. seriously, jaehyun, this heat could make you sick.”

he shakes his head, lifting a hand to wipe sweat from his neck. “i want you to be comfortable. you’re my guest, and that room’s yours now. i’ll be fine.”

you sigh, stepping further inside and lowering yourself beside him onto the mattress, knees brushing. “you’re being stubborn.”

“maybe,” he says softly, then adds with a smirk, “but you look cozy.”

you shrug, glancing down at your own body without thinking. the thin shirt clings to the curve of your chest, damp in places from residual heat and humidity. when you look back at him, his gaze has dropped—locked onto your chest, pupils darkening as his lips part just slightly.

his hand shifts, subtle and tentative, reaching as if to graze the side of your breast with the back of his fingers.

your reaction is immediate—you swat his hand away with a light slap, not harsh but firm enough to snap him out of it.

“don’t,” you say, voice low, a touch breathless. “they hurt.”

he blinks, confused. “they hurt?”

you nod, rubbing your arms. “since that night. i don’t know why. my nipples have been… sensitive. sore.”

he looks up at you again, something like guilt flickering across his face, mixed with an almost embarrassing curiosity. “shit. i didn’t know. i didn’t mean to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently. “but i mean it. they’re really sensitive. it’s not just a little sore—it’s like… they get too sensitive to touch. even clothes feel like too much sometimes.”

the fan whirs between you, filling the silence with soft mechanical noise. his shoulder brushes yours as you sit side by side on the mattress, skin still too warm, hearts beating louder than they should.

then, softly, he leans closer. “can we… do it quietly?”

his voice is almost a whisper, barely audible above the fan, like he’s afraid of breaking the tension between you.

you turn to him with wide eyes. “jaehyun…”

he watches your face, eager but trying to be patient. “junhoe’s already asleep. he won’t hear a thing,” he murmurs. “and it’s not like he doesn’t know what we’ve been doing.”

you hesitate, biting your lip. “still, it wouldn’t be… appropriate.”

he smiles a little, tilting his head as he murmurs, “maybe not. but that’s never stopped us before.”

he shifts slightly, and that’s when you see it— the prominent bulge straining against the front of his sweatpants, thick and pressing insistently against the fabric.

your breath catches. your lips part unconsciously, tongue darting out to wet them as you swallow, hard.

your body betrays your logic—heat coils low in your stomach, and your thighs instinctively press together.

“…maybe,” you murmur, glancing away as if that could tame the look in his eyes, “we can be quiet…”

jaehyun doesn’t need more than that.

he leans in, hand cupping the back of your neck as he kisses you deeply, hot and hungry and slow. your mouths move together in perfect rhythm, muffled moans swallowed into each other as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. his palms are warm—calloused in places—and they glide up your ribs, dragging goosebumps in their wake until his thumbs brush beneath your breasts, avoiding your nipples carefully, remembering your earlier words.

you arch into him, knees parting as he presses you down onto the mattress, his body heavy and hot above yours. his sweatpants are tugged down just enough to free himself, and he groans softly against your neck as you reach down, wrap your hand around his length, guiding him to your entrance.

the stretch is slow, agonizingly deep. your breath hitches, nails curling into his back as your thighs lock around his waist.

“fuck,” he whispers, teeth grazing your ear. “so wet for me already.”

you hush him with a kiss, the angle messy and desperate. each roll of his hips is slow, controlled, but the pressure builds so fast you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers fisting the sheet beside you as you fight to stay quiet. his hand snakes between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to have your body trembling beneath him.

he fucks you through it—deep, slow thrusts that have you clenching around him as you come, mouth open in a silent moan, your body arching into his until you feel like you're floating.

he follows soon after, muffling his own release into your shoulder, breathing ragged, his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wants to let go.

afterwards, he doesn't move for a while—just rests his forehead against yours, his weight a comforting pressure, your bodies still joined, slick with heat and sweat and something much more tender.

“still too hot?” you whisper, brushing his damp hair back.

he chuckles softly, kissing your cheek. “worth it.”

the morning sun filters through the soft curtains, warming the kitchen tiles beneath your bare feet. you’re already awake, hair loosely tied, moving about quietly in the oversized shirt you changed out of earlier and a casual, short dress—something comfortable and light for the heat. the apartment is still drowsy, silent except for the sound of the pan sizzling and the gentle clinking of utensils as you prepare breakfast.

jaehyun appears behind you, shirtless, with messy hair and sleep still heavy in his eyes. he blinks, confused for a second, before a small smile pulls at his lips. “you’re already up?”

you glance over your shoulder and smile. “yeah. figured it was the least i could do. i’m taking over your space, after all.” you point to the neatly arranged plates on the counter. “i made something special for you—salmon, asparagus with a bit of lemon zest, egg whites with spinach, and some avocado toast. something clean, for your athlete diet.”

he flushes a little, eyes dropping to the food, then back to you. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to.”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he steps closer, so close you feel the heat of his body behind you. his hands find your waist first, then glide up slowly, until his palms cup your breasts. his touch is careful, slow, fingers massaging softly, like he’s remembering what you told him about how sore they’ve been since you had sex. you exhale sharply, feeling the pull in your belly again.

“jaehyun…” you murmur, shifting slightly. “stop. junhoe could see.”

he leans in, presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “he won’t be up for hours.”

but just then, a loud voice echoes down the hall. junhoe’s speaking—no, arguing—on the phone. you both freeze. his tone is annoyed, sharp, like he’s trying not to yell.

you push jaehyun back quickly, and he moves just in time to avoid suspicion as junhoe enters the kitchen. his expression shifts the moment he sees you—his frown smoothing into a smile.

“damn,” he says, sniffing the air. “you’re really making this place smell like home. i might need to learn your seasoning secrets.”

you laugh lightly, cheeks a bit pink, and he drops into a chair like the argument never happened. jaehyun joins you near the counter, acting casual, though you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the ache it left behind.

later, you're sitting in your morning class, a warm cup of coffee on the table beside your sketchpad. it’s quiet, the soft hum of discussion and charcoal against paper filling the room. you’re halfway through shading the curve of a collarbone when a familiar presence draws your gaze toward the door.

sicheng steps in.

his hair is shorter now—freshly cut, the soft brown strands falling over his forehead in a boyish fringe that makes him look impossibly youthful. there's no trace of the braces he used to wear, and his smile is just as warm, just as bright, but somehow… more refined. he’s dressed simply—black jeans, white oversized tee, sneakers still a little scuffed from dance practice. a tote bag hangs off his shoulder, half full of sketchbooks and folded dance clothes.

he notices you instantly, that same spark lighting his eyes. he waves, then walks over to take the seat beside yours like no time has passed. you smile back, but there’s something soft and bittersweet curled in your chest.

it’s strange—how seeing him again stirs all the memories like dust floating in sunlight.

jaehyun is like heat. sharp angles, smoldering glances, quiet control and intensity. he walks like the world bends for him, and he touches you like he owns your skin.

but sicheng is something else entirely.

his presence is gentle. like water, like a breeze, always moving around you instead of through you. he’s soft-spoken, thoughtful, and so expressive through movement—dance or drawing, it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to guess with sicheng. he always let you see him.

you find yourself watching him while he sketches beside you, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth. you wonder if he meant it—what he said yesterday. that no one caught his eye in china. that he was too busy. that he was happy to be back with you.

and yet... you feel a pull in two directions.

your heart remembers how sicheng made you feel—safe, understood, like you were seen. but your body still aches for jaehyun, for the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters.

you stare down at your drawing, your pencil hovering just above the page, and wonder how long you can keep walking this tightrope between nostalgia and desire.

the late afternoon light painted soft gold across the pavement as you and sicheng stepped out of the lecture hall, laughter low and easy between the two of you. your sketchbooks were tucked under your arm, the scent of coffee still lingering on your clothes. he said something about the way your shading had improved, and you smiled—genuinely, openly. it felt warm. safe. like home, if home had a heartbeat.

and then you felt it.

the heat of a gaze that wasn’t his.

jaehyun was across the courtyard, leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, black hoodie pulled over his head even in the heat. but his eyes—sharp, unrelenting—were fixed on you. or maybe on the way you looked at sicheng, as if he were something sacred, something carved out of soft marble and light.

your smile faltered for half a second. long enough.

jaehyun's brow furrowed, jaw tightening like it was holding back words he didn’t dare speak in public.

you said goodbye to sicheng shortly after, heart already twisting with the weight of what was coming.

the apartment door hadn’t even closed behind you before the silence turned heavy.

“so that’s him?” jaehyun asked from the kitchen, voice flat, almost too casual.

you paused, setting your bag down slowly. “what are you talking about?”

“the guy you were making heart eyes at all afternoon,” he said, turning around. “looked like you were about to drop to your knees and worship him.”

you rolled your eyes, your tone turning defensive. “don’t start.”

he took a step closer, eyes dark. “you really think i wouldn’t notice the way you looked at him? like he was the only person in the fucking world?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “and what if i did look at him like that? it’s not like you and i are anything.”

the silence after that was deafening.

you saw it—how his expression dropped, like you’d just pulled the rug out from under him. his shoulders tensed, breath hitching.

“so that’s all this is to you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “just... physical?”

you swallowed hard. the answer was on your tongue before you could stop it. “yeah. i thought we were just... blowing off steam. relieving stress.”

jaehyun looked at you like you’d just shattered something sacred. his hand dragged through his hair, a humorless chuckle slipping past his lips as he stared at the floor.

“fuck. i was really out here thinking we were building something,” he muttered. “that maybe... maybe this could be real.”

“jaehyun—”

“do you like him?” he interrupted, voice sharp now. “that guy. do you like him?”

you hesitated.

then nodded.

“yeah,” you said, voice soft but steady. “i think i do.”

he exhaled slowly, like he was trying not to explode. “right.”

you took a shaky breath, your own emotions catching up with you, fingers tightening around the hem of your dress. “maybe it’s better if we stop... whatever this is.”

his head snapped up.

“what?”

“i mean it,” you said. “you’re... you’re rough when we do it, jaehyun. even after i told you my breasts were sore, you still—” your voice cracked. “you kept touching them. like you didn’t listen. like you didn’t care.”

his face twisted in something between guilt and regret. “i didn’t mean to hurt you—i thought you liked it rough.”

“that doesn’t mean you can ignore me when i say something hurts,” you whispered.

he nodded, lips pressed into a line. “i’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “i didn’t... i never wanted to make you feel like that.”

you stayed still as he grabbed his keys and water bottle from the table, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

“i’ve got training,” he said, not looking at you.

then, almost too fast to register, the door slammed shut behind him.

the echo of it left a hollow ache in your chest.

you stood there, alone in the quiet apartment, heart caught somewhere between anger and guilt. you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but the truth needed to be said.

still... it didn’t stop the sting that came with seeing him walk away like that.

and even though you’d been the one to draw the line, the silence he left behind wrapped around you like a second skin, suffocating in all the places he used to touch.

the gym was almost empty.

just the steady thump of fists against heavy bags and the distant hum of a playlist echoing through the padded walls. jaehyun stood alone in one of the back corners, shirt already soaked with sweat, jaw clenched so tightly his temples ached.

he'd been there for nearly an hour. hitting. dodging. repeating.

trying to erase the memory of your voice.

"you’re rough... even after i told you it hurt..."

the words played in loops in his head, louder than the music, louder than his own grunts as he threw punch after punch into the worn leather bag in front of him. his knuckles burned, taped up but raw underneath, wrists aching from the impact. but he didn’t stop.

"maybe it’s better if we stop."

he hit harder.

"you’re not listening."

harder.

"you don’t care."

his chest heaved with every breath, muscles tight, adrenaline pumping like poison in his veins.

"fuck," he growled under his breath, sweat dripping down his temple.

what the hell did you mean he didn’t care?

he did. too much, probably. that was the problem. he'd been trying so hard to show you, to express it in the only language he knew—touch, closeness, giving you his bed, making room for you in his world. but it hadn’t been enough. or maybe it had all been wrong.

and the worst part? he knew he wasn’t bad at this.

he’d never been the guy to leave girls unsatisfied. the girls he’d been with before? breathless, sore, obsessed. they texted him days later, months later, wanting more.

but you—you had made him feel like maybe none of that mattered.

maybe it wasn’t about the moves or the technique or how long he could make you scream.

maybe it was him.

his fists collided with the bag again, this time with a loud crack as one of the seams split slightly.

he didn’t even blink. just kept going.

“fuck,” he spat again, this time louder.

why wasn’t he enough?

why did it hurt so much to see you look at that other guy—sicheng—like he was art? like he was peace? like he was something soft and safe and deserving?

he hit again. again.

his mind raced.

did you think sicheng would be better in bed too?

gentler, sweeter, more “attentive”?

did you imagine him when you touched yourself now?

did you even think of jaehyun at all?

his vision blurred for a second, and before he could stop himself, he released a brutal, full-force punch with both hands—

CRACK.

the bag snapped off its chain and slammed into the floor with a dull, heavy thud.

jaehyun stood there, chest rising and falling rapidly, staring down at the busted bag like it was somehow your face, or maybe his own shame.

blood dripped from a busted knuckle. he didn’t feel it.

all he could hear was the echo of your voice, and the unbearable quiet that had come after you said goodbye.

the rain hadn’t stopped all evening.

you sat curled on the couch, blanket over your legs, scrolling aimlessly on your phone but not really seeing anything. you kept glancing at the window, hoping to hear the elevator ding, or footsteps in the hallway. nothing. just the sound of the storm, the wind howling against the glass, the relentless rhythm of the water beating down.

where is he?

you chewed on your lip, guilt twisting inside your stomach. he said he had training... but that was hours ago.

you hated that you still cared. hated that even after everything you said earlier, you were still worried. still thinking about him.

and then—click.

the front door creaked open.

your head snapped up. footsteps. wet ones.

you got up quickly, padding toward the small hallway, and then you heard it—a cough. rough and dry, followed by another one.

you peeked out.

there he was.

jaehyun stood in the entrance, completely drenched. soaked hair dripping over his forehead, shirt clinging to his body like second skin—completely see-through. every line of muscle beneath visible, his chest heaving slightly from the cold. his shorts were stuck to his thighs, sneakers squishing quietly against the tiles. he looked like a fucking painting. tragic. stunning. broken.

you inhaled sharply.

“you’re soaked,” you said, barely above a whisper.

he looked up at you, blinking water from his lashes. his eyes were tired. dark. unreadable.

you rushed to his room and grabbed the first towel you could find, returning quickly and holding it out for him.

he took it silently, rubbing at his hair with a few quick motions. droplets still clung to his jaw, his collarbones, sliding slowly down his neck, disappearing beneath the curve of his chest.

you stood there, frozen, watching him.

watching the muscles shift beneath his wet shirt as he patted himself dry. your eyes couldn’t help it—traveling from the hollow of his throat, down the sculpted lines of his torso, tracing the trail of water that disappeared into his waistband.

his gaze lifted suddenly, sharp and accusing.

why the fuck is she looking at me like that? like she wants to eat me alive... when she’s the one who ended it.

he didn’t say it. but you saw it. written all over his face.

your throat tightened. “oh— you should take a shower... before you catch a cold.”

his jaw ticked. he looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

“yeah,” he muttered. and then, after drying his hands enough not to leave puddles, he walked past you, disappearing into the bathroom.

you stood there, heart racing, the scent of rain and sweat still lingering in the air.

later, when the water had stopped running and you heard his door creak open again, you knocked gently on the wall of his room.

he was sitting on his bed in loose shorts and a hoodie, towel around his neck, hair still damp.

“can we talk?” you asked.

he didn’t look at you, just nodded.

you sat down beside him. the silence stretched long.

“i’m going back the day after tomorrow,” you said softly. “they wrapped up the research earlier than expected.”

he nodded again. “that’s good.”

you felt the ache in your chest grow. heavy and stupid.

“i just wanted to say... thank you,” you continued, voice a little unsteady. “for letting me stay. for everything. i know things got complicated but... you didn’t have to be so generous. and still, you were.”

jaehyun looked at you then, something unreadable in his eyes.

“it was nothing,” he said. then after a pause, added, “i really did enjoy having you here.”

you blinked.

having you here.

did he mean sharing space? or sharing bodies? or something in between?

you didn’t ask. you couldn’t.

because suddenly, the idea of leaving felt like dragging a blade through your own chest.

but you smiled anyway. and nodded.

"me too..."

that night, the apartment was quiet—too quiet, except for the constant hum of the fan coming from the studio. It was the only sign that jaehyun was still there, locked away in that room like he wanted to disappear into the heat and noise.

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the last touches of the dinner you had prepared. the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air, but your appetite was gone. all you could think about was how everything was coming to an end. that in just two days, you’d be gone. back to your place. back to your normal life.

without him.

the thought squeezed your chest.

why did we let it end like this?

but maybe it was for the best. things were getting complicated… you were starting to feel something, and not just for jaehyun. sicheng’s soft smile haunted your thoughts more than it should. and it felt wrong. it felt like you were betraying someone, and you didn’t even know who anymore.

you walked toward the studio and gently knocked on the door.

"jaehyun," you said softly. "dinner’s ready."

a moment passed before you heard his voice, rough but calm. "i’m not eating dinner. i’m cutting it three weeks before the tournament."

you frowned. "three weeks? that’s hardcore."

"it helps me stay in weight class," he answered. "and sharp."

"you’re really impressive," you said honestly. "so disciplined… i don’t think i could sleep on an empty stomach."

you heard the lightest chuckle from inside. it made your lips curve, a warmth blooming in your chest.

"i was thinking," you added. "it’s getting really hot in there. why don’t you sleep in your room tonight?"

silence.

then his voice, slower this time: "i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. not after earlier."

"it doesn’t make me uncomfortable," you admitted, a little too fast. "what makes me feel worse is knowing you're locked in there, sweating your ass off just to keep distance from me."

more silence.

later that night, you watched him drag the extra mattress into the room. he didn’t say much. neither did you. he just placed it gently on the floor and started setting it up like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you crawled into your bed and faced the wall, but you could feel him there. his presence, his breath, his energy.

he was trying to give you space.

and it hurt.

was he doing this because you asked him to? or because he really didn’t want to be close anymore?

you closed your eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

not with your body still remembering the feel of his mouth.

not with your heart aching like this.

the room was still, humid with tension. jaehyun's mattress lay across from your bed, a quiet symbol of the space now between you. you could hear his breathing, steady and calm, and for a moment you wondered if he was already asleep.

you weren’t.

your skin was hot, your thoughts restless. every little thing about the day had only stirred the ache further. the weight of goodbye, the ghost of his mouth on yours, the memory of his body—

"jaehyun?" you whispered.

there was a pause. then, his voice, low and a little raspy: "yeah?"

you hesitated, fingers curling into the bedsheet. "can you… kiss me? just once more?"

a breath caught in his throat. "what?"

"just one last time," you whispered again, barely audible. “before i leave.”

he didn’t answer, not with words. you heard the rustle of his blanket, the shift of his weight. then he stood, walking across the room and sitting beside you. in the dark, you felt his hand brush your cheek. you leaned into it.

his kiss came soft, uncertain at first. lips barely moving. a farewell. a memory in the making.

then it deepened—sweet, aching, slow. his tongue gently parted your lips, as if savoring the moment. like he didn’t want to let it go. you moaned softly against his mouth, hands sliding up his shoulders, fingertips grazing the curve of his neck.

his hands followed the lines of your body, but he didn’t push—just held you, like he wanted to memorize how you felt under his fingertips.

you guided one of his hands downward, over your ribs, across your stomach, lower, until his palm was between your thighs, pressed over your heat.

he froze, breath stalling.

"you're wet," he whispered, stunned. his forehead touched yours. "can i kiss you there?"

your thighs shifted, your core pulsing beneath his touch. and even though the rational part of you screamed don’t, your lips whispered something else— "yes... please."

he didn’t hesitate. slowly, he slid down the bed, pushing the covers aside, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs as his hands gently separated them. your legs trembled as he settled between them, breath ghosting over your already soaked folds. you were burning. aching. breathless with anticipation.

"you’re so fucking sweet," he murmured, lips brushing just above your clit. "i’ll be gentle this time. promise."

his tongue met your heat like he’d been dying for this. slow, deliberate licks, tracing you open, savoring your taste like a man starved. his mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked softly, making your hips jerk against him, a gasp torn from your lips. you slapped a hand over your mouth to stay quiet—junhoe was still in the apartment—but your body refused to obey.

"baby..." he whispered, licking a stripe down your slit. "you said this was the last time... but how am i supposed to let go of this?"

you whimpered as his fingers joined the party, slipping two inside you with sinful precision. they moved in rhythm with his mouth, hitting that sweet spot over and over, your thighs shaking around his head.

you were going to come. embarrassingly fast. "fuck, j-jaehyun—" "i got you," he mumbled, voice deep and thick against your core. "just let go. i want to feel you fall apart for me one last time."

your body obeyed his words before your mind could catch up. the orgasm rolled over you like a wave—deep, warm, toe-curling. you bucked against his mouth, clenching around his fingers, moaning into the pillow to muffle your cries.

when you finally stilled, breath ragged, skin damp with sweat, he kissed your inner thigh again. gentle. reverent.

he crawled back up, resting beside you, lips swollen, eyes dark but soft.

you looked at him. flushed, breathless, wrecked by his mouth, and yet aching for more.

"that wasn’t just a kiss," you whispered.

"no," he said, brushing your hair off your face. "it was me showing you that i fucking meant it. all of it."

the next day, you were in class, sitting beside sicheng. the room smelled like linseed oil and graphite, the mellow scent of the arts building you’d come to love. your hands moved across the canvas, sketching lines with soft, deliberate strokes—though your mind was far from focused.

he leaned over you, reaching for a box of charcoals, and your hands brushed. just a moment. just fingertips. but it sent a shiver up your spine. later, as you both reached for the same jar of solvent, your elbows bumped, and you felt his warm breath near your cheek. again, it seemed like a coincidence, but every little contact made your stomach tighten.

you tried to concentrate, to breathe through the rising heat in your chest, but your thoughts kept pulling you back to last night. to Jaehyun. to the weight of his body. the sound of his voice when he was between your thighs. the way your name left his lips like a prayer and a plea.

you hadn’t even realized you’d been staring into nothing until sicheng turned slightly, studying your expression.

"you're distracted," he said softly, his voice like silk. “you’ve redrawn the same line five times.”

you gave a small, dry laugh and shook your head. “i guess i’m just… tired.”

he tilted his head, that same calm, unreadable smile dancing on his lips. “that’s not the look of someone who’s just tired. that’s the look of someone who keeps thinking about someone else.”

your heart skipped. his gaze was gentle, but piercing. he saw right through you.

you lowered your head, hiding the flush that rose to your cheeks. “i don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered with a sad smile.

he didn’t push. he just nodded. “okay,” he said simply. “but you should come tomorrow night. the dance club has a small showcase. nothing formal. just movement and music. might help you get out of your head for a while.”

you nodded slowly. he lifted a hand and gently placed it on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“no fever,” he murmured. “but something’s definitely burning in there.”

you almost melted from that touch, so full of care. that was sicheng—soft-spoken, graceful, thoughtful. so different from jaehyun, whose touch burned like wildfire and left you gasping.

sicheng’s energy was gentle rain.

jaehyun’s was summer lightning.

when you got back to the apartment, the day had started to fade. you were packing up your things—your sketchbooks, your clothes, the small souvenirs you’d collected during your stay. junhoe was outside, laughing with his girlfriend. jaehyun was still at training. he had warned you it would be intense this week, but told you to call him if you needed anything.

even after everything, he was still… good to you.

you ate alone. showered. and the silence of the apartment began to settle in your bones. it wasn’t just the heat that made your skin feel flushed—it was something deeper. more primal. your thighs rubbed together with a soft friction as you walked around your room, and the sensation only made things worse.

lying in bed, your mind betrayed you. you thought of his voice, his mouth, his hands on you. the way he’d whispered your name while he kissed down your body.

you shouldn't. you shouldn't. but your body ached. your fingers slipped under your shorts, brushing over sensitive skin. your breath caught. then deepened.

you moaned softly, barely biting down the sound. "jaehyun..." you whimpered his name like a secret, hips twitching, your core wet and throbbing from the memory.

you were too far gone to hear the knock at the door. too caught in the heat building between your thighs to register the voice on the other side.

“y/n?” jaehyun’s voice came again, more firm. “i’m coming in.”

you didn’t hear him.

so he opened the door.

and froze.

you were sprawled on the bed, your body arched, your fingers deep inside, glistening with your own need. you were panting, whispering his name in broken sighs, eyes shut tight.

his jaw clenched. his chest rose and fell rapidly as he stood there, rain still dripping from his hair. he hadn't even changed out of his workout clothes yet.

you opened your eyes.

and saw him.

the heat rushed to your face, but your body didn’t stop. not yet.

he stared at you like he couldn’t breathe.

you licked your lips, chest heaving.

“close the door,” you said softly, voice trembling, not from shame—but from desire.

jaehyun stood frozen for a heartbeat, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his shoulders, again, dark patches spreading across his shirt where sweat met humidity. his eyes devoured you—spread open, soaked with need, your fingers still buried in your pussy, slick and glistening under the dim light of your bedside lamp.

he moved.

the door clicked shut behind him.

you watched the muscles in his arms flex as his hand remained on the knob for just a second longer, as if trying to convince himself to stay on that side of the threshold. but it was too late. he had already seen you. already heard the way you moaned his name like a hunger. there was no turning back now.

he took one step, then another, until he was standing at the edge of the bed.

your fingers stilled, but didn’t leave your core. you kept your eyes on him, testing him. daring him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered, throat dry. “about your mouth... your hands…”

his breath hitched.

then, as if that snapped the leash he’d been holding all day, he moved. fast.

he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, his large hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you to the edge like you weighed nothing. his eyes locked with yours—dark, intense, but still seeking permission.

you nodded.

“say it,” he rasped, his lips barely touching the inside of your thigh. “tell me i can taste you.”

“please,” you breathed. “i need your mouth on me… now.”

he groaned like a starving man given his first taste, and then he was on you.

his tongue swept over your folds in one slow, deliberate lick that made your entire body shudder. his grip on your thighs tightened, spreading you further, anchoring you against the mattress. he licked you again, then again, teasing the edges of your clit before finally sucking it between his lips and giving it the attention you were dying for.

you cried out, your back arching, one hand flying to his hair, gripping it as you rolled your hips into his face. he moaned against you, the vibration shooting up your spine like lightning.

“f-fuck, jae,” you gasped, legs already trembling.

he hummed in response, pulling you closer, burying his face deeper between your thighs. his tongue flicked, circled, then flattened against your clit in slow, rhythmic pressure that made your stomach twist in the best way.

and then—one finger slid inside you. then another.

you clenched around him with a moan that echoed off the walls.

he fucked you with his fingers as his tongue worked your clit like he knew every nerve ending in your body. it was too much. it wasn’t enough. your moans got louder, needier, your hips grinding into his mouth.

you were so close.

“i’m gonna—jaehyun, i—!”

he sucked hard, curling his fingers just right—

and you shattered.

your thighs clamped around his head, your scream muffled by your own palm as your orgasm tore through you like a wave crashing, your body convulsing in pleasure as you rode his mouth, unable to stop the way you trembled.

he held you through it, slow and patient, licking you gently, easing you down with soft kisses and slow fingers until your body finally collapsed against the bed, boneless and buzzing.

when he finally pulled back, his mouth was glistening with you. his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, his eyes dark and wild.

and then, he leaned up and whispered against your lips—

“your turn to taste me.”

the next morning came quicker than you'd hoped. the sun barely kissed the windows when you were already up, heart still aching with confusion, with memories—tender and hot—that clung to your skin like ghostly hands. you got dressed in something simple, but lovely. not for anyone in particular, or so you told yourself… but deep down, you knew better. for him. maybe.

the chinese classical dance showcase was held in the university’s small theater, adorned with flowing red curtains and warm lighting that gave the place a soft, enchanted glow. there was a hush in the room as people took their seats, the air filled with anticipation and the faint notes of traditional instruments.

and then, when the lights dimmed and the curtain pulled open—he appeared.

sicheng.

draped in silk that flowed with every precise, delicate movement, his presence on stage was otherworldly. ethereal. like he didn’t belong to the same world as the rest of you. he moved with an elegance that stole your breath—arms extended in slow, sinuous arcs, his fingers painting invisible poems in the air. each leap, each spin, was poetry, full of grace and intention. time bent around him. for the minutes he danced, there was no past, no tomorrow. only him.

you were spellbound. your chest tightened with something sweet and dangerous. why does he have this effect on me?

sicheng twirled in the air as if he were defying gravity itself, his silhouette floating with a grace that felt unreal. his hair moved with the rhythm of his body, the folds of his costume danced like soft waves around him. every muscle seemed to flow with pure, clean, almost sacred intention.

your eyes followed him in a trance... but then, a blink—and the image of his body was replaced by another. more solid. more earthly. more raw...

the room was silent, save for the ragged breathing between you. the light was dim, just a small lamp casting a warm glow over the sheets. jaehyun had you pinned against them, his hair still damp, his eyes lit up. he had just made you come with his mouth, his tongue. and now... now he was looking at you with a wicked grin, a drop of sweat trailing down his temple.

“now it’s your turn to taste me,” he said in a low, husky voice, his fingers brushing your cheeks before guiding your face down.

you settled between his legs and took him into your mouth, savoring the heat and weight of his erection, feeling his body tighten with every move of your lips. your fingers traced along his thighs as you let him slide deeper, eager, hungry. he moaned your name, one hand tangled in your hair, the other caressing your neck, your shoulder... his hips trembling beneath your attention.

when he finally came in your mouth, you swallowed it all, never breaking eye contact, as if that moment was a statement. of desire. of surrender. of something you weren't sure was just sex anymore.

a sudden wave of applause jolted you back to the present.

the lights on the stage had changed. sicheng was now bowing, his chest rising and falling gently as he caught his breath, his lips parted in a serene smile. his fellow dancers joined him, their elegant costumes glowing under the soft stage lights, but you couldn’t focus on anyone else. just him. the way a drop of sweat trailed along his jawline, how the fabric of his outfit clung to his body in all the right places. ethereal, beautiful, almost not real.

your cheeks were burning. not just from the warmth of the theater.

you’d just spent the last few minutes with your mind between jaehyun’s thighs.

clapping like the rest, you tried to mask your daze, but your pulse was racing. your lips tingled with memory. and yet… your eyes were on sicheng, on his grace, his soft composure, the quiet elegance that contrasted everything about last night.

he caught your gaze then—just for a second. he smiled. gentle. curious. and maybe, just maybe, a little bashful.

your hands shook a little as you held the floral arrangement you brought of white lilies and soft lavender stems, carefully wrapped in pale gold paper. you hadn't planned to bring flowers. it had been a sudden impulse at a corner stand on your way to the venue. but now, looking at his glowing face and flushed cheeks, it felt like the right choice, not until you saw him step off the stage, cheeks flushed from the exertion, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

you approached, heart hammering, and when you handed him the bouquet, his eyes widened. “for me?” he asked softly, voice like velvet.

you nodded, suddenly shy. “you were… incredible.”

a faint pink spread across his cheeks. around him, a few of his dance friends whistled and nudged each other, muttering playful comments under their breath.

“damn, sicheng. didn’t know you had a secret admirer.”

“who’s this pretty girl, huh?”

he smiled awkwardly and turned to you. “don’t listen to them,” he said quietly, taking the flowers with both hands like they were something fragile. precious. “but… thank you. really.”

you smiled back, heart fluttering wildly. you didn’t know what any of this meant yet. but you knew one thing: for those minutes watching him dance, the only person in your mind was him.

or maybe not...

his friends were still teasing him behind their hands, but in that moment, it felt like you and him were in your own little world.

a quiet pause stretched between you.

then—

“want to go for a walk?” he asked softly. “i still feel like i’m floating. and maybe i need help grounding myself.”

you smiled, heart stuttering in your chest.

“yeah… i think i need that too.”

sicheng walked up to you with his face softly lit by the park’s lanterns, the same ones now catching on the edges of the petals he held between his fingers—the small bouquet you'd given him after the performance. his steps were slow, careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile stillness between you.

"thanks for coming," he said, his voice quiet, almost like a breath.

you nodded, still caught in the afterglow of watching him move on stage. the way his body floated, controlled yet weightless, like he wasn’t bound by the rules of gravity. you hadn’t expected it to affect you like this. but it had. deeply.

"it was beautiful, sicheng… really. i couldn’t take my eyes off you," you said, almost absentmindedly. your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your coat, as if trying to hold on to something more solid than your drifting emotions.

he smiled, just slightly, but didn’t look away.

"you were like a feather in the wind… so light. So fluid. i didn’t know you could move like that."

you kept talking, caught in the spell of the moment. and then, before you realized it, the words slipped out.

"that's why I liked you so much…"

silence.

sicheng blinked, tilting his head like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right.

"you liked me?"

your breath hitched, panic fluttering in your chest. "i—i mean… i used to. in the past. it was just a little crush," you rushed, trying to backtrack. "it doesn’t matter anymore."

sicheng watched you carefully, his expression unreadable. "so… do you still like me?"

you hesitated. "no!" you said too quickly, too sharply. then softer, almost afraid of the weight your own voice carried. "no..."

but his eyes stayed on yours, gentle but questioning. you sighed.

"maybe. i mean, a little. i think… the feelings are coming back. but i know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay. you don’t have to worry or feel pressured or anything like that, sicheng. i just hope this doesn’t change anything between us. i'd hate to make you uncomfortable. and if you want me to stay away, i will. just… please, don’t be upset."

you looked down, cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. you’d said too much, or maybe not enough. you couldn’t tell.

sicheng stood there for a moment, as if processing your words. the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound between you, a small, peaceful distance that felt so wide in the silence. he stepped a little closer, his eyes soft but intense, and then he spoke, his voice steady and calm, but there was a hint of vulnerability in it.

"don’t worry," he said with a gentle smile, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm, offering comfort. "i won’t be upset. i’m not going to ask you to stay away. i'm your friend, and that won’t change because of this."

He paused for a beat, looking at you as if searching for something in your eyes, something more than just the words you’d said. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

"but…" he continued, his voice dropping a bit, "i can't pretend i don't care about you. i think i always have, even if i never said it before. it’s just… it’s complicated now, and i don’t want you to feel pressured either. so, let’s just take it slow, okay? we don’t need to rush anything."

sicheng's expression softened even further, and for a moment, it was like the world around you two disappeared. his smile wasn’t just comforting, it was full of understanding.

you were standing so close to him now, your heart beating loudly in your chest. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, with tension you couldn’t ignore. you hesitated, staring into his eyes, wondering if you were truly ready for what you were about to ask.

“now that you know… can you do me a favor?” the words came out quieter than you intended, the weight of them settling heavily in the air.

sicheng blinked, his eyes narrowing in thought as he processed your request. “a favor? what do you mean?”

your gaze flickered away from his, your voice catching in your throat. you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to say it aloud. but the urge was too strong, the need inside of you too overwhelming. you exhaled slowly, almost in defeat.

“can i kiss you?”

his eyes widened, the shock registering in the brief silence that followed. for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. his breath caught in his throat, and you saw the uncertainty flicker across his features.

“you want to... kiss me?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

you nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. "yes... i just... i need to know. i need to know how it feels, how your lips taste. it's... it's been eating at me, this feeling. maybe... maybe it’s just to push this feeling away. i don’t know."

he stood frozen for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and something you couldn’t place. he looked at you for a long, lingering second, his eyes searching yours as if to see if you were being serious. then, he seemed to shake himself from the stupor and scratched the back of his neck, nervous and unsure.

“i… i didn’t think you’d say that,” he muttered, voice a little rough, the words tangled in his throat.

he lowered his gaze for a brief moment, his hand nervously brushing his cheek. “i’m not sure what to think. but…” he trailed off, and when he met your eyes again, there was something unreadable in his gaze. “okay. but… make it quick.”

you felt your heart beat faster at his words, the rush of anticipation and fear flooding through you. you didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but the craving was too strong, and there was no turning back now.

you took a step forward, the movement slow, deliberate. you could feel the tension in your own body, the nervous energy that seemed to hum through the air. his body was stiff, unsure, but he didn’t pull away. he waited.

with shaky hands, you placed them on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. his breath hitched, and you swore you could hear the thumping of your own heart. you leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his for a split second. It was a soft, tentative touch, like testing the waters. But the moment your lips met, something shifted.

the kiss wasn’t just a kiss. it was a question. it was an answer. you were both asking for something, craving something that neither of you could fully understand.

you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, searching for any hint of what he was feeling. but before you could even process his reaction, he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with more urgency this time. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, and everything around you seemed to blur, the world fading away except for the heat between you two.

the kiss was no longer short, no longer just a way to silence the burning question. it was desperate, as if you both needed more, as if this was something that had been building for so long that it couldn’t be contained any longer. his hands roamed up your back, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you even closer. you felt the heat rise in you, the growing need to touch, to feel, to be lost in him.

his lips moved against yours with a purpose, his body pressing into yours as if there was no room for anything but the two of you. the kiss continued, each second stretching into eternity, each touch, each brush of skin against skin, sending sparks through your body.

but then, reality hit. you pulled back, gasping for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. his breathing was heavy as well, his eyes wide, lips still tingling from the kiss. you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions flooding through you—desire, confusion, fear.

“i… i shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

sicheng didn’t say anything immediately. he looked at you, his expression unreadable, like he was trying to piece together everything that had just happened. the silence stretched on, heavy between you. his hand brushed over his mouth, as if he were still feeling the sensation of your lips on his.

you couldn’t look him in the eye, the weight of your actions crashing down on you. the tension between you was unbearable now, and you didn’t know what would come next.

then, in the distance, you heard footsteps. jaehyun. he had finished his workout and was walking out of the gym, just as you and sicheng stood frozen in the aftermath of what had just transpired. jaehyun’s eyes caught yours and sicheng’s, and in that moment, you saw the flash of recognition in his gaze. he froze in place, staring at you both, the confusion and pain clear on his face.

his chest tightened as he processed the sight before him, and in an instant, something inside him seemed to break. all the thoughts, all the moments he had imagined between the two of you seemed to shatter. it was like a cruel slap to the face, reality crashing down on him, and he turned away, the pain settling into his chest, knowing that everything had just changed.

the sound of your footsteps felt heavier than they should have as they echoed through the empty apartment. you were packing your things, moving with mechanical precision, but your mind couldn’t escape the haunting image of last night. the kiss. sicheng. his hands. your heart pounding in your chest like it might explode.

everything about it was vivid. the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way he touched you... and now, as you stood there, surrounded by your things, you felt lost. something inside you had snapped, and you couldn’t figure out why. you didn’t understand what you had just done.

you had run. you hadn’t even thought about it. you ran from sicheng, from the confusion, from the storm of emotions swirling inside you. you ignored his calls, not because you didn’t care, but because you couldn’t explain something you didn’t even understand yourself. you felt terrible—empty.

you paused, feeling your body shake, your hands trembling. you bent over slightly, resting your hands on your knees, trying to steady yourself. the nausea in your stomach was unbearable, like it was rising from deep within you. it wasn’t the kiss, it wasn’t what had happened between you and sicheng—it was something deeper. something didn’t feel right. It felt wrong. simply wrong.

and then you remembered. the night before. the night you had been with jaehyun. you had been in his arms, lost in him, and it had felt real. sincere. everything about it had been intense, wild, and raw. but now, with sicheng, you felt nothing but emptiness. a hollow sensation that gnawed at you from the inside. why didn’t you feel the same way with jaehyun? why did everything feel so deliriously good with him? why had it felt like it was right, like you belonged there? now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made a mistake.

you sank down onto the floor, your back against the wall, and buried your face in your hands. the dizziness didn’t fade. the weight of your thoughts was suffocating. you needed to breathe. you needed to calm down.

but how could you calm down when you didn’t know what you were feeling? you had been with jaehyun—everything had felt so right with him, so raw and real. and now… now it all seemed confusing. you had never felt this conflicted before.

you didn’t know if you could trust your feelings anymore.

and then you heard it—the silence, the absence of his presence. jaehyun. he hadn’t come home. you hadn’t heard from him all day. no messages. no calls. nothing.

he had left first. and you hadn’t even had the chance to reach him. you had tried, but it was impossible. the way he looked at you—the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment. you could feel it still. he had seen you, had seen the two of you together, and something in his expression had shattered. he didn’t want to see you anymore. not after what you’d done.

your stomach churned again. the truth was that you didn’t want to be in this mess, but here you were, trapped in a web of confusion, unable to untangle the feelings inside you.

you couldn’t go back. you couldn’t change what had happened with jaehyun or with sicheng.

and yet, here you were. lost in the aftermath.

jaehyun’s footsteps were heavy as he walked down the darkened streets, each step taking him farther from the image that had been seared into his mind. he had tried to push it away, tried to shake off the sting of seeing you and sicheng together, but the moment kept replaying in his head.

he hadn’t returned to the apartment. no, he couldn’t. not after what he had seen. not after the raw, aching pain that twisted in his chest when he saw you, your lips pressed against his. the image of sicheng’s hands on your body, his lips moving with yours, had made his stomach churn with a mix of anger and hurt. he hadn’t expected it—he hadn’t prepared for the jealousy that hit him like a punch to the gut.

his thoughts were scattered as he wandered aimlessly. he ended up at taeyong’s place, needing a distraction, anything to stop the storm of emotions that had overtaken him. he let himself in, muttering a brief greeting before collapsing on the couch. taeyong was there, of course, with a drink in hand, silently observing him. jaehyun didn’t speak at first, just grabbed the glass taeyong offered him and took a long sip, feeling the burn of alcohol slide down his throat. it was the only thing that seemed to calm the fire inside him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” taeyong remarked, his voice laced with concern.

jaehyun let out a bitter laugh. "no, it's worse. i saw something i wasn’t supposed to see."

taeyong raised an eyebrow but didn’t push him further. jaehyun didn’t need to explain. taeyong always understood. he leaned back into the couch, his mind replaying the scene—your face, the way you kissed sicheng, like you belonged to him. jaehyun felt a tightness in his chest. he didn’t know why it hurt so much. he wasn’t even sure where he stood with you anymore. you had been so distant recently, and yet, seeing you with him, it felt like a betrayal.

it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen this coming—he had. he just hadn’t expected it to hit him this hard. and now, every drink he took seemed to make him forget for a moment, but the feeling always returned. the hurt. the confusion. the jealousy.

jaehyun’s fingers tightened around the glass, his mind swirling with thoughts of you. why didn’t you tell me? his chest ached, but he didn’t want to confront you—not yet. he wasn’t ready to face whatever was happening between you two.

he didn’t know if he was angry, heartbroken, or just lost. all he knew was that he couldn’t shake the image of you and sicheng together, and it felt like something inside him had snapped.

“damn it,” jaehyun muttered under his breath, taking another sip, his gaze distant.

the days passed slowly, like honey sliding down glass—thick, heavy, and impossible to stop.

you left the apartment the very next morning. you didn’t wait for jaehyun to return. maybe you were too ashamed. or maybe… you were afraid of what his silence truly meant. returning to your own place felt like stepping backward into a version of yourself you had outgrown. everything was still the same, but everything felt different.

unpacking was painful. every folded shirt, every book you placed back on the shelf carried the weight of disappointment. guilt clung to you like damp clothes. you had betrayed something you hadn’t even fully understood yet. something tender. something real. something that had bloomed quietly between you and jaehyun… and now was ruined.

yes, you were the one who ended it. you had been the one to say "we shouldn't" back when things got too deep. you told him not to catch feelings. and still—you had let him back in the same way he’d always slipped through the cracks in your walls. and now, after everything, there was nothing.

no calls.

no texts.

no late-night knocks on your door.

even though he knew exactly where you lived.

nothing.

you cried for the first few days. not because he hadn’t come, but because you didn’t know what you wanted him to do anymore. you were angry with yourself—for wanting him despite it all. for needing his arms when you had no right to ask for them. sicheng had kept his distance too. and you? you let him. maybe that was for the best.

your friends tried to distract you—girls’ nights, coffee dates, random gossip and karaoke—but they didn’t know. not really. they assumed you had fallen for sicheng again, that he’d rejected you for good this time. and you didn’t correct them. it wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

two weeks passed. fourteen days without a word from him. and you were slowly starting to accept it.

until—

it was a thursday afternoon when your paths finally crossed again.

you were at the university gym, dropping off some flyers for the art department's spring showcase. you weren’t expecting to see anyone. especially not him.

but there he was.

inside the training room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, gloves on, sweat clinging to his shirt. jaehyun. focused. sharp. fierce. every punch he threw looked like it carried a piece of the storm inside him. his coach barked something, and jaehyun adjusted his stance, but his movements were tight. frustrated.

you froze outside the glass doors, unsure if you should move or melt into the floor. but then he noticed you.

his eyes caught yours.

and for a moment, everything stopped.

he didn’t look angry. he didn’t look cold. he looked tired.

he stepped out of the ring, pulled off his gloves, and walked toward you slowly, wiping his face with a towel. you swallowed, nerves curling in your stomach like fists.

“hey,” you said, your voice barely audible.

he didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, chest rising and falling, eyes scanning you like he didn’t know whether to breathe you in or let you go again.

“i wasn’t sure i’d ever see you again,” he finally said, his voice low.

“i didn’t think you’d want to,” you replied. you bit your lip. “you didn’t come. or call. i thought that was your answer.”

he looked down, exhaled slowly, then met your gaze again. “i couldn’t.”

his voice cracked just a little. “i tried... every day. but i couldn’t look at you and not remember…”

you stepped forward, just slightly. “I know, i know it was... awful.”

“no,” he interrupted. “you don’t understand. i didn’t stay away because i hate you. i stayed away because i didn’t know how to stop wanting you even after everything.”

silence stretched between you. the hallway suddenly felt too quiet.

“i ruined it,” you whispered.

jaehyun shook his head. “maybe. maybe not.”

another pause.

“i have a fight in three days,” he added, softer. “it’s my biggest match yet. national-level. i’ve been training harder than ever. but… it hasn’t helped.”

you frowned. “why?”

“because you’re still here,” he said, placing his hand over his chest. “and i can’t punch that away.”

tears pricked your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat.

“i’m not asking for anything,” you said quietly. “i just… i missed you.”

his gaze softened. “me too.”

then, slowly, he reached for your hand, curling his fingers around yours like he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake. like touching you might hurt—but not touching you hurt more.

“you coming to watch me fight?” he asked, with the faintest of smirks. “or do i have to win without you in the crowd?”

you let out a soft laugh, choking on emotion. “i’ll be there.”

“good.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “because i want to win with you watching. not for you. just… with you there.”

and for the first time in two weeks, your heart didn’t feel like it was splitting open. it just felt full.

the crowd was louder than you expected. people packed the stands, their voices rising in a chorus of cheers, whistles, and anxious calls. the atmosphere in the arena pulsed with energy, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

and jaehyun’s name being called.

you were sitting near the front, just behind his coach, surrounded by other athletes, trainers, and curious fans. the lights dimmed slightly as the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

“coming to the ring now… jung jaehyun!”

you stood without realizing, eyes wide as he stepped into the spotlight. his robe slid off his shoulders, revealing the toned body you already knew too well, but now wrapped in determination. his jaw was clenched, his eyes locked forward. he looked powerful, composed—like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

but when his eyes scanned the crowd…

he found you.

for a split second, his expression shifted. just a flicker of softness in the middle of all that steel. and that was just for you.

you felt it deep inside—something warm, something alive again.

the bell rang.

the first round started fast.

his opponent was no amateur—he moved with precision, like a shadow in motion. jaehyun didn’t hesitate. he dodged, countered, landed a jab. then another. you gripped the edge of your seat, body tense with every strike. he was holding his own. no—he was winning.

but then the second round came, and it got messier.

the other boxer caught him hard—right hook to the ribs, then a left jab to the cheek that made jaehyun stumble. gasps filled the room, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

he got back up.

you rose from your seat, whispering his name under your breath like a prayer. come on, jaehyun… come on.

and he did. like a man possessed.

round three was war. each punch carried purpose, rage, and focus. his muscles burned, but he didn’t stop. he pushed through the pain, through the exhaustion, through whatever was still bleeding inside him. because you were watching.

he could feel you watching.

in the final seconds of the round, he landed a brutal uppercut that knocked his opponent clean off his feet. the crowd erupted. the bell rang.

and he won.

you didn’t realize you were crying until someone nudged you, telling you it was over. that he’d done it.

but all you could think was—he’s going to look for me.

and he did.

still breathless, sweat clinging to him like a second skin, jaehyun left the ring and walked straight toward you. no interviews. no press. no team celebration.

just you.

he reached you in two long strides, grabbed your face with both hands, and kissed you so fiercely you forgot how to breathe. the world fell away. no one else mattered.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered:

“i needed you there. i fought better because of you.”

your voice cracked as you whispered back, “i’ve always been with you.”

and in that moment—under the lights, in front of everyone, after all the silence and all the mistakes—he smiled.

because no matter how broken it had felt…

you were here.

and maybe, just maybe, you were going to be okay.

cbeargyu💭 hey! i’ve been super active here today LMAO. this post feels kinda different from the stuff i’ve been writing lately bc fun fact this was actually the first fic i ever wrote for the platform. BUT i never posted it tho, it’s been sitting in my drafts since 2023 🫣 but i finally decided to upload it today!! it was supposed to be just a one-shot but it turned out way too long, so i’ll be posting part two soon once i go over it and organize it properly :D hope you enjoy it! it’s inspired by a manhwa i absolutely loved called peach sorbet 🩷 totally recommend it btw! <3

[islesnap]

“suho… i got into another fight… i’m sorry…”

yeah wrap it up wake him up fun’s over. cut the cameras y’all.

[islesnap]

“while i can’t sleep, i wonder when you’ll wake up.”

this show is gonna be the death of me truly.

[islesnap]

man idk how i forgot that park jihoon was this fine but i’m starting to remember why i was never normal abt him when he was in w1

[islesnap]

mdni

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ please, don’t — k.dy

pairing: fwb!doyoung x f!reader genre and content: smut, fwb-ish?, unprotected sex, riding, slight-chocking. angst. mdni. wc: 1.6k

you stand in front of his door for a moment, coat in hand, breath caught in your throat. you told yourself you wouldn’t come back. not after what happened last time. not after the way he looked at you when he asked for more, more time, more truth, more of you, and you couldn’t give it. you told yourself you wouldn’t come back.

you said it was better to walk away. better for him, for you, for whatever mess you kept falling into together. you meant it. so you almost turn around. almost convince yourself to go home, take a shower, fall into bed alone like a normal person.

but you don’t.

because today was fucking awful. you don’t want to be alone, and he’s always the first place your body wants to go when your mind can’t take it anymore, when your chest feels too tight to breathe.

you knock once. and he opens the door like he was expecting you. his hair’s messy. he’s in sweatpants and a black t-shirt that clings to his chest. his mouth parts when he sees you, but he doesn’t say anything.

he doesn’t have to.

you walk in without a word. drop your bag. kick off your shoes. he closes the door behind you, slow, still watching.

then he’s sits on his couch, elbows on his knees, head down, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to keep something from spilling out.

you know it’s late, too late to pretend this isn’t exactly what you came for. so you cross the room, slow, step between his legs, and cup his face with both hands. too intimate for what this is supposed to be.

his eyes meet yours. there’s a flicker of something, surprise, maybe. but he doesn’t move, just breathes you in.

you don’t ask. you just climb into his lap, careful, your knees on either side of his hips, your hands sliding under his shirt like you’ve done it a thousand times before. because you have.

he exhales, slow through his nose. jaw tight. “what are you doing.”

you rest your forehead against his. “today was shit,” you whisper, voice smaller than you meant. “just… let me have this.”

“you always come to me like this.” he mutters, like it bothers him. but he doesn’t stop you.

“because you make me forget,” you breathe. your lips graze his neck. “just for a little while.”

he scoffs. not soft this time, bitter. “you want comfort, go cry to someone who cares.”

you flinch, but your body stays close. because you know him. you know if he really wanted you gone, he wouldn’t be sitting here, breathing hard through his nose, fists clenched like he’s holding back the urge to touch you.

you kiss his neck. “don’t do that,” you murmur. “don’t lie.”

you grind down once, slow, and feel him already hard beneath you. his breath catches, head tilting back. he just leans back on the couch, arms spread along the backrest, jaw tense, pretending to be unaffected. but you know better.

he growls, soft. “you think i like being used?” his voice is flat, but his hands are already on your thighs, sliding higher, gripping tighter.

you press your mouth to his jaw, teeth barely grazing skin. “i think you like when i need you.”

he leans back as he drags his gaze over your face, trying to decide what to do with you, he exhales. “is that what you want? to get fucked so deep you can’t think straight?” he watches you with that look again. like he wants to ruin you and hold you at the same time. you nod.

“go ahead then,” he says, voice rough, eyes locked on yours. “show me how much you want it.”

your hands move before your mouth can answer. you reach for the buttons of your shirt and take it off. his eyes drag down the curve of your chest, tongue pressing into his cheek when your bra follows, tossed somewhere to the side.

next your palms drag over his chest, his stomach, teasing, until the hem of his shirt. you push the fabric up and he lets you take it off, arms raised for just a second before they’re back on your thighs raising the fabric of your work skirt.

you tug at his pants and he lifts his hips just enough for you to slide them down. not all the way, just enough. just enough to get to what you need.

he watches you as you reach down, slide your panties to the side. with your other hand you reach down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around him, guiding him to your entrance, and sink onto him in one smooth, aching motion. his fingers tighten, jaw clenched, eyes locked on we’re your bodies met.

“fuck,” he breathes. “you’re already soaking.” you nod, and your mouth parts as you start to move, slow, feeling every inch of him. his eyes locked on the way your body grinds down on him.

“look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough. sitting back as you grind on him. “fucked open on my cock while i just sit back and watch. like it’s the only thing that’ll fix you.” your hands goes to his chest, your thighs trembling, he watches you like a man starved.

he spits on his hand and rubs it over where you’re stretched around him, “so fucking wet. so fucking messy.” you don’t answer. you just move. his grip tightens around your hips, guiding you, dragging you down harder.

your nails dig into his chest, and he just grunts, dragging his teeth across your jaw. “you love this, don’t you? love using me like this. acting like you don’t care, and then showing up like this. crawling into my lap like you’re mine.” you hate how true it feels. how good it feels when he says mine like that.

his grip shifts, one hand on your throat now, firm, just enough pressure to make you focus, to make you feel it. to make you look at him. “ride me, baby,” he whispers, “prove i’m what you need.”

you do. your rhythm falters, hips stuttering as he meets you halfway, fucking up into you harder, rougher. his head tilts back, veins in his neck straining as he groans, lost in the feel of you wrapped so tight around him. “you’re so tight. every time i sink into you it’s like your body doesn’t wanna let go. fucking greedy. you were made to keep me inside.”

the room is quiet except for your breath, his voice, and the slick sound of your bodies clashing into each other. filthy. desperate. and familiar.

“you hear that?” he hisses, eyes on where your bodies meet, on the obscene sounds of you taking him again and again. “that’s your pussy sucking me in. begging for more.” his voice drops lower, rougher.

you cry out when he hits deep. he grins like he’s high on the sound of it, grabbing your jaw, forcing your eyes on his. “what? too much?” he mocks, voice low and filthy. “you can take it. you wanted this.” he snarls, breathless.

your hips twitch, trying to keep up, but he’s relentless. fucking up into you like he owns you. like he’s trying to carve the shape of himself into your body. he watches your face twist, your body start to give, you’re close. he feels it.

“you gonna fall apart for me?” he murmurs, lips against your neck, teeth dragging.

his thumb brushes over your clit, enough to make you gasp, as he laughs darkly. he fucks up into you harder, rougher. and you come, loud, trembling, his name falling from your lips like a curse or a prayer.

he loses it too, groaning into your neck as he slams deep and stays there. he grips your hips so tight you can’t move, groaning, emptying himself inside you.

he presses one last thrust into you, slow and deep, just to feel your body twitch again around him. just to hear you whimper. his hand on your back pulls you down, until your chest is pressed to his, your mouth open against his shoulder.

and then silence. breaths uneven, your thighs are sore, your body spent, but he hasn’t let go. he’s still inside you. and now he doesn’t said a word.

you feel his grip on your hips, tight, like he’s still not sure if he wants to pull you closer or push you away. your hand finds his shoulder.

“i didn’t come here to hurt you,” you whisper.

he laughs. low, bitter. “you didn’t come here for me. you came here because your day was shit.”

you swallow. hard. but you don’t deny it. still, he doesn’t move. his thumb brushes the edge of your spine, slow. a gesture that contradicts every word he’s said.

“next time,” he says, finally, voice raw, “just fucking say you need me.”

it shouldn’t hurt. but it does.

because he’s right. you never say it. you just show up, touch him, take what you need and pretend it doesn’t mean anything. pretend it’s just about tonight.

you stay quiet. because if you open your mouth, you’ll either lie or fall apart, and you’re not sure which one would be worse.

he sighs. that tired, familiar sound, like he’s already bracing for the part where you leave. but his hand is still on your back. his body still warm beneath yours.

“i’m sorry.” you murmur, so soft it barely leaves your lips.

he closes his eyes. leans his head back against the couch. “like it changes anything...”

you nod, even though he’s not looking. “i know.”

there’s a silence then. full of everything neither of you ever says.

his thumb keep moving in slow circles against your skin, like muscle memory, like habit. like he doesn’t know how not to touch you, even when he’s trying to protect himself.

you want to pull away, to break the spell, but your body won’t listen. instead, you lean into the touch, desperate for any kind of connection, even if you don’t deserve it.

“you make it so hard to hate you,” he admits, voice low, almost breaking.

you laugh, bitter but soft. “i don’t want you to hate me.”

his fingers tighten on your back. “doesn’t mean i don’t.”

you close your eyes, resting your face against his neck. “please, don’t.”

[islesnap]

mdni

ㅤ𖹭 #𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚 ::ㅤ𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝕿𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗣⠀⠀【...】

ㅤㅤ𝑛. ⠀﴾⠀cw. 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁. cockwarming, unprotected sex, a lil degradation, overstimulation﹙slight﹚⠀━╋⠀﴿⠀ 𝖻𝖿!𝗃𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀 ⎯⎯ 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋.

you’re already in jisung's lap when he starts to fall apart. not even moving — just sitting, like he asked you to. his cock is buried inside you to the hilt, and somehow, that’s what’s killing him the most.

the stillness. the restraint. the heat of you clenching around him like your body can’t tell this was supposed to be a pause. his fingers dig into your hips, holding you down like he’s trying to keep himself from doing something stupid.

his back is pressed against the headboard, legs spread wide, and you’re straddling him with nothing but your oversized sleep shirt hitched up over your thighs. you aren’t wearing anything underneath. he knows, he’s the one who told you to take it off.

the moment you sank down on him, he swore under his breath, low and broken, like it hurt. and now, maybe ten minutes later, he’s still swearing. still breathing hard. still losing his grip on the promise he made.

“just the tip,” he’d said, voice dark and velvety against your neck. “let me put it in, baby. just sit on it, yeah? we won’t move. just wanna feel you for a bit.”

you had nodded. you always do, soft and pliant and so good for him. you’d let him guide the head of his cock into your soaked entrance, had gasped when he didn’t stop, when he pressed all the way in, thick and aching and slow. you’re wet enough to take it easily, but the stretch still left your mouth parted in shock, breath stuttering. you clung to his shoulders and he kissed your cheek like an apology.

then he told you not to move, so you didn’t. and that’s the problem.

now he’s trembling under you, hands gripping your hips like your body is the last stable thing in the world. his jaw is tight, brows furrowed, his mouth pressed to the curve of your shoulder, not kissing, just there, breathing hot and fast against your skin like he’s seconds away from begging.

“fuck,” he mumbles. “you’re so warm. you’re so—shit, you’re squeezing me.”

you don’t mean to. It’s not on purpose. you’re trying to behave, sitting still just like he told you, but the way he fills you makes it impossible to relax.

you can feel everything, every twitch, every pulse, every little movement of his hips under yours that he tries so hard to control. he’s thick and hot and pressing against that spot inside you without even thrusting. you feel stretched to the edge, stuffed so full it borders on unbearable.

he curses again under his breath and leans his head back to stare at the ceiling. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. one of his hands lifts, drags through his hair, like he’s trying to cool down. it doesn’t work.

“you don’t even know,” he groans, voice low and wrecked. “you don’t even fucking know what you’re doing to me right now.”

you look down at him, his flushed cheeks, the sweat starting to gather at his temple, the way his lips part every time you clench just slightly around him without meaning to.

“i’m not doing anything,” you whisper.

he looks up at you like you’ve just committed a crime. like he’s been stabbed.

“exactly,” he says, nearly breathless. “you’re not doing anything and I still wanna flip you over and fuck you stupid.”

that makes your breath catch. your hands curl in the fabric of his shirt. he feels it. his hands flex, fingertips pressing bruises into your skin without meaning to.

“you’re sitting on my cock like it belongs to you,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower, “and you’re so fucking good—not even moving. you’re just taking it. letting me feel how warm you are. how wet. how tight.”

he bucks up into you — not enough to fuck, just enough to make you gasp.

“baby,” he says, voice unraveling, “’m gonna lose it.”

your thighs squeeze around his hips, and his head tips back again with a groan.

“I was trying to be good,” he mutters, like he’s confessing something awful. “I just wanted to feel you. just wanted a little.”

he looks back at you, wide-eyed, flushed, barely holding on.

“but now I need more.”

the words fall out of him like he’s helpless against them. he is. you can see it, the tension in his arms, the wrecked look in his eyes, the way his cock twitches inside you like it’s begging for friction.

he’s past the point of pretending. past control. his fingers flex at your hips, and suddenly he’s pulling you forward — not harsh, but urgent, like he can’t stand another second of not moving.

“bounce for me, baby,” he whispers, voice hoarse and shaking. “just a little. please.”

you hesitate, shy, unsure, still not quite believing how wrecked he is just from sitting still inside you. but the moment you shift your hips, even slightly, he chokes out a moan so raw it makes your thighs tremble.

“that’s it,” he gasps. “just like that. fuck—fuck, I knew you’d feel like this.”

you roll your hips again, slower this time, testing the way he stretches you, the drag of his cock against your walls, how deep he hits even without effort. his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing, guiding, urging. his eyes are locked on your face now, feverish with need.

“go ahead,” he says, voice pitched high with want. “ride me, baby. take what you want.”

you start to move — small bounces at first, shy and careful. but he meets you halfway, hips jerking up with every grind, every rock of your body, until your pace grows clumsy, frantic, all rhythm gone in the haze of how good he feels. his moans get louder, his grip tighter. the desperation is everywhere now, flooding the room like heat.

“so t-tight,” jisung groans. “I can feel everything. you’re milking me.”

you whimper at the way he says it, at the raw praise in his voice. his hands are all over you now, sliding up your back, clutching your waist, trailing under your shirt to grip your ribs like he needs to hold you together while you fall apart.

“look at you,” he murmurs, dazed. “so good for me. my pretty girl, taking it so well..”

your head falls forward, forehead resting against his as you sink down harder. the wet sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, obscene and desperate. jisung’s eyes flutter shut, his mouth parted, sweat clinging to his neck.

“I was trying to behave,” he whispers. “I swear I was— but the second you sat down, I couldn’t think straight.”

you whine, riding him faster now, driven by the way his voice breaks, the way his cock twitches with every drop of your hips.

“fuck, baby, yes—ride me. ride me just like that. I’m not gonna last if you keep—shit, just like that—”

his head falls back against the headboard with a thud, and you swear he’s close already. he’s panting, groaning, fingers bruising into your skin as he helps you slam down harder, deeper.

your clit drags perfectly against the seam of his abdomen, sparking white heat through your core.

“can’t—can’t hold back,” he chokes out, voice thick with tears. “you’re gonna make me come. you want that? you want me to fill you up like a good lil slut?”

your breath catches. you nod. “say it,” he growls, thrusting up into you so hard your thighs quiver.

“I want it,” you gasp. “want you to come inside me, jisung—please, I need it—”

he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you down into a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue and moaning into your mouth as he fucks up into you like he’s lost control.

your hips stutter, your thighs begin to shake, and his free hand slips between your bodies to rub fast, desperate circles over your clit.

“come first,” he pants against your lips. “come with me—please, baby, wanna feel you clench.”

you do — seconds later, crashing down around him with a broken cry, body tightening, shuddering hard as you come all over his cock. that’s what breaks him.

he thrusts up into you one last time with a wrecked gasp and spills deep inside, burying his face in your neck as he groans through it.

you stay like that — panting, tangled, skin hot and slick and trembling — with his cock still twitching inside you, his arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’ll never let go.

“..fuck,” he breathes after a long moment. “that was not just the tip.”

you laugh weakly, still catching your breath. “you lasted longer than I thought.”

his lips find your shoulder, kissing it softly. “yeah,” he whispers. “but next time, you’re on top immediately. no more cockwarming. I’m not strong enough for that shit.”

[islesnap]

mdni

BREATHE ME IN. ✱ MDNI ❕

synopsis. The ancient bloodline of serpent hybrids was hidden, closed off. Unknown, a mere unconfirmed sighting of them is enough to ring alarms of danger. But here you were, claimed and possessed by a snake that held a voice as smooth as honey and a touch as light as feather— what would happen when your curiosity over his kind gets the best of you and you want to unleash the side of him that was written down in history?

pairing. snake!jake x fem!reader (19+)❕warnings. PURE FLITH, like genuinely disgusting nasty questionable smut. DARK CONTENT, jake is obv a snake, fangs, subspace, blood drinking, mentions of stalking + kidnapping, he has magical venom like an aphrodisiac, venom feeding, unprotected sex, creampies, feeding rituals, supernatural bond formation, belly bulge, tongue sucking + throat fucking, knotting bcs he has a knot, body worship, womb + cervix worship & fucking, Jake has stalkerish tendencies, he bites u multiple times, oviposition like full on eggs cuz hes a reptile, like he lays eggs in u fyi, insane breeding kink like genuinely, soft moments but like just twice in the span of 16k words. word count. 16.7k

a,note. this is by far my nastiest fic i’ve ever written. half of me gen doesn’t want to post this here, it’s my first time ever writing + posting something like this. please read the warnings and minors do not interact. this fic contains dark content and some creepy stuff people might be uncomfortable with, read at your own risk & have a nice day ! + proofread at 9 am with zero hours of sleep (as usual)

The sound of pages turning reverberated through the walls.

You sat on the soft mattress, back pressing against the headboard while a pile of books accompanied your bedside table, fingers flicking from page to page.

A simple warm light dimmed the room, your shared bedroom that almost felt alive, your surroundings felt like they pulsed sometimes. The furniture feeling cold to the touch before turning warmer, this was yours and his sacred place, his nest.

It was where you were most comfortable with being, and he was most satisfied with you being. Engulfed in his warmth, in his pulse that synced with his heartbeat so he connected to you at all times.

The paper in front of you contained drawings, sketches, definitions, explanations. The first few that you skipped revolved around mermaids, wolf hybrids, panther hybrids— till you finally reached the chapter you wanted.

Snake hybrids. The offspring of humans, serpents and vipers.

“Snake hybrids have special characteristics, most of them carry split eyes that dilate at the sighting of a prey. Some have large tongues, dry and barbed. Extending a few inches past what’s considered normal depending on the hybrid bloodline—“

You flipped the page.

“A rare species of serpent crossbreds may be born with multiple different appendages, their tails—“

You flipped another page.

Vision skimming past the words written carefully onto each part, the different anatomies of snakes, their hybrid form and their viper form— you were too indulged in the book to notice the passing glimmer of scales.

Obsidian with a jade iridescence, thick and rough.

Jake slithered towards you quietly, silencing his hissing and the scratch of his scales as he made his way through his nest. Emerald slit eyes that locked in on you. His lover, his mate, his prey.

And before you could turn your wrist to turn the page— you felt it.

The warm, large brushing of his scurry tail. His scales providing a soothing chill before the warmth of his venom pulsed through it. “Entertaining yourself with books about me when I’m right here?” His tone was smooth, deep and hypnotising.

“I was just curious..” you closed the book, the sound of the cover shutting bringing a daunting smile to his sharp features, his eyes raked over you, slits tightening when he tilted his head.

“Hm? About what, love?” His tail circled your ankle before trailing upper, sneaking between the warmth of your inner thighs when you squirmed before wrapping around your waist, fully coiling himself around you as he inched his face closer.

You breathed out shakily, “about your kind..” “what about my kind?” His heartbeat pulsed around the walls in the nest and around you. Tail tensing the slightest bit making you feel the drumming beat that coursed through your viper’s veins.

His question stopped you. A flush warming around your neck at the embarrassment of admitting that you wanted to know about snakes mating. Serpents bonding. Vipers connecting and devoting themselves fully.

Because it’s true— you are curious. So curious as to why Jake has allowed you into his nest, has made you feel the shimmery scales of his tail yet still hasn’t fully claimed you.

The amount of stories you’ve heard of other humans being claimed by their serpent hybrids, the sheer force of their connection, the weight of the love they shared, the way they became biologically altered to accept their mate.. made you feel hollow.

Jake didn’t do any of that with you. Sure, he might’ve told you about his previous mate experiences. You might’ve gained knowledge about a thing or two of a sacred ritual passed down from fanged bloodlines, but you didn’t experience.

You wanted to feel jake connect to you as far as his reptile body allowed him to. You wanted to feel him devote himself completely to you, to mark you, to scent you, to bond to you for life and claim you.

You yearned to be claimed by him.

And Jake could already see the longing in your eyes, he felt it every time your fingers touched his scales. Each time you stared at his long tongue that flicked past his plump lips, he knew. And he wanted to claim you as badly as you wanted him, but he was still scared of hurting you.

Two different kinds, two different species. He had venom coursing through his veins next to his cold blood while yours pumped warmly, he had fangs that ached when he took too long to release while your teeth were half the size of his, even though Jake wanted to claim you— god, he wanted to worship you. There was still an intrusive thought that gnawed his mind that you’ll hurt. That he’ll break you, that you’re not ready for him.

“I could show you what you want to know, satisfy your curiosity..” he trailed off, bringing his clawed finger to trace down your jaw making you nuzzle against his touch. “But I might hurt you.” Jake whispered admittedly, the raise of your eyebrows and the surprise in your eyes almost making him regret telling you.

You wrapped your hand around his, warm. He could feel the unnoticeable tremor in your digits when you laced them through his. Squeezing once. “You’ll never hurt me, Jake.” Reassuring him, you looked straight at him. Allowing him to see the confidence in your gaze. “I know you never will.”

The serpent sighed, inching closer to push his forehead against yours while his tail tightened around your frame. “I’m still worried, but I do want to try.” Lips brushing around yours before he pulled away to let you see him, past his softness, past his worries, past everything.

To see his slit pupils dilate, to see the peek of his fangs that dripped with his nectar-like honey, to fully remind you just what you were asking of him.

God that thought alone made you crave him more.

“I will show you everything.” He purred, “give you anything you want to make you know me. Get your body used to me, to taste me.”

And Jake always kept his promises.

It starts the next day.

You’re in the comfort of his nest, tip of his tail stroking your thigh lazily, he was hovering above your laying frame, close. So close you could feel the swift lick of his tongue whenever it flicked out.

“We have a feeding ritual.” He hisses, voice barely above a whisper as you nod at his words. Concentration fully locked on him, giving him all your attention when he finally gave in to preparing you for him.

He’s inches away from your face, soft breaths fanning your skin as jake continues, “it’s intimate, I will mark your inside with my tongue, and feed you my venom.” You gulped.

Not because you were scared, maybe a small part of you was nervous but you knew about something like this before— a few fleeting articles that were titled with “venom feeding” and if anything, you were anticipating this.

Yet your eyebrows still furrowed, “my inside?” He nodded, “your throat. I’ll mark it with my tongue, claim it as my own.”

“Now let me show you, sweet thing.” And you nodded, he flicked his muscle out slowly this time. The tip passing his lips as his split tongue came into view. Both endings twitching independently as more came out.

His venom infused saliva shined in front of you. The sight of his abnormally long tongue made your mouth water. You suddenly felt a heat rush down your body, settling into your core when Jake showed you just how ready his tongue was to claim you.

Jake smirked at your bewildered expression, the dazed look in your eyes that followed his every move when he retracted his tongue back. “Are you ready?” Without even replying back to another word, your mouth opened for him.

Your innocent obedience making his emerald gaze dilate, your own tongue— sweet and small in comparison to his, lolling out just to show him how ready and prepared you were.

He breathed deeply through his nose, pulling you closer before he hovered his face above yours. And spat.

You gasped at the sight of the wet glob that glistened with his venom. It almost appeared to pulse in your eyes. As if his poison was just as impatient as you were to ruin you.

And when the long string finally landed on your awaiting tongue, you moaned at the flavour. So thick, so warm and sweet. An addictive tingle spreading around your mouth when the venom travelled along your tastebuds.

Your first taste of his nectarine venom, the one he prepared for you, to feed you only.

Jake’s eyes narrowed. A familiar heat awakening in his body when you closed your mouth, humming pleasantly at his venom that your body accepted. He kept trying to focus, reminding himself that something could still go wrong, you could reject his venom, your body could react negatively to it— but you were sloshing it around your mouth like you were tasting your favourite honey.

And Jake knew now that your body didn’t just accept him, it liked him. Enjoyed his taste, the tinge of his claim on your tongue.

“Swallow, sweetheart.” His clawed hands, rough looking but oh so gentle when cradling your face made you have no choice but to keep your eyes locked on his when you swallowed.

Where he stared at your throat, the small gulp of him going down your throat and coating it down on the way— to settle into your stomach, where your body will slowly break it down and he will become a part of you.

That thought alone, of being so close to you that you carry him made him almost lose his mind.

“You took it all so well, angel girl.” You closed your eyes when he caressed your neck, the base of his thumb pressing against your pulse point that sang for him. “You’re ready. Your body accepted me, it’s only fair that I feed it well now.”

And that’s when his tail circled your hips, scales wrapping around you protectively while his index finger tapped your cheek. “Open up again for me.” His demanding tone made you shudder in his hold before you let your mouth fall open again, jaw going slack while jake admired the new nest his tongue will find comfort in.

Your throat tightened around nothing, so wet and warm he couldn’t hold himself back from pushing his tongue out and slipping it inside of you.

His split tips slithered along your tongue. Barbed, wet and divided. You drooled uncontrollably around his muscle when he sank in further, brushing against the back of your throat when you gagged around him, hands gripping at his arms desperately as Jake tried his best to open you up more.

To accept more of him, more of his aching tongue that was about to burst from the amount of venom he held for you, more of his tongue that sent electrifying pulses down his body just from the taste of you.

The taste of your cavern all wrapped around him, trying her best to take more of him in but it felt like he was endless.

“J-Jake..” you mumbled, jaw flexing as it almost began to hurt from the flexion, but Jake was obsessed.

His hair ruffled in all directions, a fusion of your saliva with mixed his dripping down his chin while he kept his eyes closed for a few seconds. Like he was trying to memorise your taste, the feeling of your throat tightening around his tongue. The hot and dripping embrace of your body around his.

“Almost there.” And once he spoke those words— you felt it.

The release. The warm, continuous waves that pumped down your throat. Pure venom.

Poison that swirled straight from his pulsing glands from under his jaw that was altered— it wasn’t lethal, wasn’t dangerous, his body had specifically crafted this venom for a mate.

With the purpose of claiming, of marking, of scenting, of breeding.

It was thicker than the first taste he gave you. Sweeter than the first dribble you felt on your tongue. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when the steady pulses streamed down, you felt the heat radiating off of what you were swallowing, the way it marked its way down your throat all the way to your stomach to tuck itself inside of you. Where it pulsed.

The feeling of being owned from your mouth— your tongue and your throat like this was making a floating sensation swirl around your head. You couldn’t tell if this was from his venom or from the pleasure that you were feeling from having him this close, this connected to you.

But it didn’t matter, because everything felt good.

The forked tips of his tongue stroked down your throat, caressing every warm muscle, every corner and crevice they could reach while your serpent’s venom slipped inside, where you couldn’t help but involuntarily swallow around his tongue.

Jake almost lost it.

You were taking him. A sacred, bonding part of him that he’s never used on anyone like this, he’s never marked anyone like this. Yet here you were, with his barbed tongue so deep down your throat, drool that infused with your spilling tears drizzling down your neck while you sucked him more.

Like you weren’t aware of doing it, like it was your own body’s doing.

And jake continued feeding you. Who else would he feed if not his mate that was taking him in so sweetly? Pretty tight little throat pulsing around him when you gagged before sucking him in more, your muscles trying their best to take him in, to drag him in deeper and to have him continue.

Because Jake knew before you, that this wasn’t just a feeding. This was the start of an addiction.

He didn’t just feed your body his venom to claim you, he did it so your body knows that it’s owned. Knows that it has a viper that will protect it, nourish it, feed it.

And what’s a better way than making you know this by making you addicted to him? By making you crave him. Your throat that he just marked and claimed to need him, his venom becoming the only salvation to your thirst that he awakened. Because you’re his mate.

You’re his other half, you’re his.

It was past midnight when you woke up.

Sweaty, icy cold. Breathing heavily when your entire body tingled, an uncomfortable itch— an uncomfortable burn. A scratch that bled in your throat.

The feeling wasn’t new, you knew you were thirsty, the ache and dryness in your mouth almost made it feel like you were scratching it from the inside when you moved your tongue.

With bleary eyes you reached blindly towards the bedside table, where jake always brought a glass of water for you. Ignoring the shift of scales around your waist when you moved, fingers wrapping around the cooling cup before bringing it up to you.

And swallowing one sip, second sip.

Until you finished the whole glass without even meaning to, but your eyebrows furrowed.

Sleepy confusion clouding your senses when the ache didn’t dull, it continued. It felt like you didn’t even try, the water effectiveless.

Your breathing quickened when the sensation became entirely suffocating. Was the water too little? Was there something wrong with your mouth? You felt yourself almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

Almost, because the tail around you tightened before jake spoke right against your neck.

“Precious?” Voice still laced with sleep, tail unwrapping slightly as you turned around to face him. He could see the slumber slowly fading off your face along with the dampening along your temples. “Is something wrong?”

“My throat..” you sounded hoarse, wincing slightly at the discomfort that came along with moving your mouth, “it feels so dry.. and I just drank water, I think I need more.” You slung your legs down the side of the bed right when his clawed hand held your nightdress.

And then the serpent realised something.

“Baby.. it’s not the water.” Jake coaxed you back into the bed, “what?” You whispered now, the itch intensifying the longer you spent in bed, the longer your mouth stayed dry.

“It’s not the water, you can even test it for yourself.” He quickly reached back and gave you his glass from his side, the liquid sloshing as you brought it to your lips and gulped it in the blink of an eye. Still dry.

Your hand wrapped around your throat in irritation, “then what is it?” “It’s me.”

The serpent sat up on the bed, towering frame hovering above yours as his tail slithered to rest against your hips, “your throat isn't thirsty for water, it’s thirsty for me.” You gulped.

His clawed index ran along your jawline, “you had a taste of my venom, and that’s what your body wants now. It wants me, it knows me. Recognises me as your mate.”

His words, his tone, his slit pupils, his sharp claw— everything felt so territorial. Completely consuming, making you melt against the mattress as he pressed his brawny body to yours. “Your body knows I’m the one that’s supposed to feed it.”

Focused eyes tilted down to where you swallowed nervously, his hand instinctively wrapping around your feverish skin. “So let me feed you.” Jake felt the urge to feed you long before either of you decided to go to sleep, it hasn’t even been half a day since you first tasted him, but he knew you’d crave him again in a few hours.

He still wanted to test it.

To test your body, your senses. To see if you could depend on him, if your body could want him to function. To be hungry for him and his taste. To yearn for him.

Not that he wanted to ever starve you, to deprive you of the one thing his body produced for you. It was quite the opposite. He wanted the bond between you to strengthen, to grow, to make both of you dependent on each other.

He doesn’t waste another minute, don’t want to make either of you suffer because the ache in his fangs is becoming too much.

“Open up.” He demands, fingers gently squeezing your neck when your mouth fell open for him and he sighed. It fuelled him up, awakened an urge inside of him. Whenever your jaw stretched for him, he felt an electrifying excitement bloom in his chest.

A thirst that burned his throat. And just like that he slipped his tongue back inside of your mouth, split ends separating when they reached their home. Slithering in further and further while you both moaned at the feeling.

You gasped at the first drip of venom, so rich, so sweet. Your hands mindlessly reaching to his wrist while he moved to hold yours, interlacing your fingers as he sank deeper.

Going past the back of your throat, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around him before relaxing in acceptance, in recognition before your muscles began to swallow.

He groaned in pleasure when you hummed around his tongue, milking the venom that spilled inside of you for the second time because it was so reliving.

The moment you tasted him again, everything disappeared. The itch, the scratch and discomfort— gone.

Jake was right, it isn’t a thirst for water. It’s for him. The same venom he fed you, the same venom that warmed your insides and infused to your blood in your veins. Accepting him and desiring him.

It felt so intense, so overpowering to have him wrap his cool tail around you, lengthy tongue that fucked your throat shoved in so deep while he still held your hand gently, still kept his other right above your pulse points.

Because that’s where he was now. That’s where his venom pulsed. Right inside of you.

He fed you, nourishing your body and satisfying your thirst as you emptied his glands, falling further into a state of complete euphoria and bliss at being catered for. Limbs feeling heavier with each passing second when you whimpered around his mouth that pulsed more venom down your throat.

“Let go, sweetheart.” Jake whispered, his expression devoted as he memorised the way you looked under him, full of him. “You did amazing for me.. your body responded to me, wanted me. Let go now, little thing. Let me take care of you.” And you were slipping more.

Words enthralling, touch entrancing, tongue feeding. You were completely and utterly bonded.

“Let me fill you up till you sleep again.”

Jake’s scales pulsed around you, once, twice. Each one syncing with the rhythm of his heartbeat that he wrapped around you.

The sleep slipped out of your eyes when you fully registered the familiar warmth, slowly opening your lids to greet his slit pupils that admired you.

“Good morning, little nest.” His accent was more accentuated when his tone was groggy, the slumber still twinkling in his words when he sleepily smiled at you.

“Morning, handsome.” And your big, scary, serpent boyfriend hid his face in the crook of your neck, a specific throb crossing through his tail and your body when his heart fluttered.

He kissed your collarbone while you hummed sleepily, “I wasn’t too rough yesterday, was I?” Your fingers stroked his nape, shaking your head before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Not at all.”

Jake breathed out a sigh of relief as the weight on his chest was lifted off, the nagging thoughts of hurting you, injuring you or worse— scaring you. All floating away gently while he cradled you closer to him, flicking his tongue out to taste the air that carried your sweetness and your scent.

“You should stay in bed today, love.” He spoke gently, tip of his tail stroking your lower back with his velvety scales. “Let me take care of you today.” “Don’t you always do that, though?” He smirked.

“You’re my mate now. I am bonding to you, I’m the only one who should take care of you.”

Jake’s tone was low, his passion, devotion and protection blazing in each syllable. He was a hybrid after all, human to some extent but his soul was a serpent. Protective, possessive, fierce, demanding.

His mate came first, bond second and pride third. The bloodline has been sacred for centuries, rare and unknown. Some believed that it was that way intentionally. The vipers always hissed quietly, presence cloaked with their fanged bared out.

And even if the lions, the panthers, the wolves walked around freely, their bloodlines rare but loud, serpents were always silent.

That’s what set them apart, that’s what makes them dangerous.

They don’t seek, their mating ritual is vastly different from others. They choose and then they claim, and then they disappear.

Hiss along the shadows, hide behind corners where no one can find them. Because that’s how it’s always been like. That’s what makes Jake’s species unlike any other one.

That’s why your friends freaked out when you first confessed that you were seeing someone— a hybrid, a snake.

Because they declare their mates. They capture and they slither back to the dark.

That’s what happened to you an entire year ago.

You didn’t know that Jake’s attention was on you, that there was a certain pull, a tug he felt whenever he detected your scent. He chose you before you even knew him.

And when the shadows hissed darker at night in your room, when your skin became addicted to the cool of scales on it, when all the alarm signs were going off in your friends’ and families heads that it’s happening right in front of their eyes— you disappeared.

You didn’t fade, you didn’t get to say a goodbye, you slept at night and woke up in his nest the next morning.

That’s how it’s been for the past year, this is your home, where you enjoy your time and flourish in your bubble around him. He’s taken you far away, not a place you recognise, the language you still learn till this day but there are no prying eyes on you.

There are no more hands reaching to you to pull you away— just scales.

And you love it, you’ve grown to obsess over it with time.

“Then take care of me, always.” You don’t have to tell jake twice.

He’s nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing in your love deeply before lifting his head and tapping your cheek, “open.” His pupils dilate alongside yours automatically, “let me feed you now before you get hungry again.” And you do, you let him.

Pretty plump lips, still swollen from yesterday’s feeding falling open as he sighs in pride. He can spot the fading stickiness of his venom on the back of your throat, it’s almost time then.

Jake balances himself on his arms, face just a few inches apart from yours before he opens his own mouth, tongue falling out with multiple strings of saliva that pulsed with his poison extending down the length of his muscle, so long, so lethal yet it made its way to your mouth carefully.

The split ends softly brushing your lips when he released. Steady, long and thick pulses of his warm venom dripping right from his tongue and into your mouth, where you hummed in pleasure, in delight. At the feeling of relief cascading down your body in waves the more he breathed into you.

“Take it all, love.” He whispered, his tongue now moving just to circle around yours, still pulsing and still giving. While you only took, swallowing each and every drop. “Keep yourself full, always be full of me.” Jake lowered himself, tongue slipping right against yours before his divided tips touched the entrance of your throat again— just to stroke.

His eyes were half lidded when he spoke “feeling better now, sweetheart?” And you nodded, dazed and full. The heat of his venom enveloping you, wrapping around you completely and gently loving you. “Good girl.” Then jake retracted his muscle, placing a quick kiss to your open mouth before he chased your tongue.

Both of you instinctively moaning in pleasure when his forked tongue dragged against yours, eyes closing when your candied, gentle, human flavour bursted in his mouth while he kissed and nipped your tongue.

You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, a heat pooling down towards your core, a craving awakening making your hips twitch under him, right when jake began to suck on your tongue.

“Fuck.. baby..” he took more, mouth chasing after your sensitive tongue while you whimpered under him, still drunk on his venom and now he was sucking your tongue like it was the source, “tastes so sweet.. so addictive.” His lips wrapped more tightly, he sucked harshly, relishing in the vibrations that trailed down his throat from your mouth.

Jake’s hand gripped your hip, to stop you from rutting into him, and his fingertips almost burned from the heat you were radiating, so needy, so eager, so his.

Then with a final suck to the tip of your tongue, he trailed his kisses lower. Open mouthed with his barbed skin stroking you to mark and to claim. “I’ve got you.. I’ve got your throat.” He whispered, his lips reaching your lower stomach as he nipped your hip bone, just enough to graze it with his peeking fang. “And I’ve got you here.” Jake spoke right when his hand cupped your mound.

You gasped, a shudder tensing through your body at the slight feeling of relief, of having him touch you right where you need him the most, where your body yearned for him the most.

And jake chuckled.

A deep, crazed rumble of his chest that almost sounded like a purr, his slender fingers deftly stroked your sopping cunt, leaking and dripping when he has barely touched you, and the thought of you being so ready for him, your pretty little pussy wanting him so much that she’s salivating for him? Was making him dizzy.

He hissed, feral and possessive when his claw ripped your soaked panties open, the lace dangling off of it while he let out a guttural sound at the sight of you, so wet, glistening and tightening around nothing as if you’re inviting him in, welcoming him in— begging him to touch you.

“Look at you..” his claws disappeared in an instant, trailing down your folds gently just to hear you whimper under him. “She’s so needy for me..” he was stunned.

Infatuated, so so in love with your pretty hole, his hole, his womb and his home.

“Let’s see how she’ll react to me..” he spoke with the tip of his finger circling your entrance, swirling your nectarine spit making your whole body flutter under him. “She should recognise me now..” you didn’t know what he was talking about.

Because jake didn’t tell you that his venom doesn’t only make your throat crave him, it doesn’t only make your mouth thirst for him and your body to settle when he’s around.

The venom that he created for you, that ran in your veins right now and reached your womb— marks you.

From the inside out, wholly and entirely. You didn’t know this, but he owns you now. Your throat, your womb, your entire body.

And he is right. Because the second he kisses your entrance, soft lips nuzzling into your quivering walls, the first flick of his venom laced tongue just inside your entrance— barely in, just a simple poke.

Your back arched in the nest.

A broken sob and moan slipped past your lips at the sheer force, the sheer strength of the contraction that coursed through your body, absolutely and utterly divine.

The tears that aligned your waterline now slipped freely, your walls fluttered— tightening, widening, convulsing restlessly as if they were trying to milk something just at the slightest taste of his venom.

You felt the way a deeper part of you opened up— your tight, unscathed and untouched cervix pulsing right before flickering. As if the gate was entirely unsealed now, cervix swollen, low and ready.

And jake felt all of it, he felt the way your thighs twitched and jerked next to his head, he senses the way your pussy awakened, your womb fluttering open in preparation for him.

Because she recognised him, a single taste— a short, almost nonexistent slip of his venom and she released.

“Of course she does..” he laughed in awe, at the feeling of your body burning under him, at the breathless sounds that escaped your falling chest, at the way more slick poured out of you like it was urging him in.

The sight, the sense and the scent of everything alone made his head spin. The serpent felt the way his tail twitched in desperation, fingers shaking as he tried his best to not allow his claws to slip out, his slit pupils dilating so far his emerald iris is gone.

He felt the carnal urge, the primal pull that stirred inside of him. The need and the desire, the programmed, biological response of his kind to claim, to worship, to breed. The very cunt that’s anticipating him. Dripping in arousal and hunger in hopes of luring him in with his venom still pulsing through your veins, so reactive, so responsive.

But not tonight, not yet.

Jake will just worship you for tonight, please and satisfy your needy pussy in preparation for what’s to come.

That’s when he slipped his tongue inside of you. Lengthy muscle that pulsed within your walls at every contraction that he felt, you cried. Fingers gripping around the sheets so hard your knuckles paled, a sheen, thin layer of sweat illuminating your body while you fell apart above his nest.

You looked divine, something holy, something completely sacred.

And the serpent wanted to do nothing more than to devote himself to you. Mind, body and soul.

His pretty mate, his loving mate that accepted and thrived off of his venom— writhing under him, twitching and shaking as moans spilled out of your body, pure euphoria overflowing within you while jake retracted his tongue— only to thrust it back in entirely.

Movements sloppy, uncoordinated and mindless as he fucked your throbbing cunt on his tongue that dripped and drooled with his saliva and his venom, your walls clamped down on his muscle, the first contact of his poison right against you made you feel delirious.

Your body drank him in, tightening walls that he fucked were wrapping around him, milking his tongue that gave more and more of his flavour, his taste and your womb’s sedative.

Jake’s tail slashed behind him, his hips rutting restlessly against the layers of fabric of his nest under him. He felt his senses sparking when your taste filled him up. Eyes wild, claws peeking before disappearing and jake was just getting started.

His breaths were heavy as he felt himself unable to breathe. Tongue so deep inside of you, the forked edges dragged against your pulsing walls while his split tips nuzzled into your sweetest spots, you tasted so good, so tender.

He wrapped your thighs around his head with no intentions of slipping out anytime soon, his mouth suckled around your folds, drenched when his nose brushed against your puffy clit, needy and neglected that from one single stroke, you came.

You weren’t even able to process the build up of your climax, nor were you able to comprehend the waves of pleasure that crashed upon you, one after the other. Merciless as jake fucked you through it. Tongue piercing you faster, rougher and deeper.

Until you felt him reach your peak.

The one sacred spot inside of you. Hidden and tucked away so deep in safety, in security. The one spot that jake claimed.

The one the serpent wanted and marked. It belongs to him now, your fluttering, dripping cervix that throbbed the moment his poisoned tips reached it.

And you screamed, the sensation so new, so uncomfortable yet soothing— so painful yet pleasant, it made you feel like your mind was melting away, your head being filled with mush while your body went completely limp under him.

Jake was euphoric. High on the taste of you, on the feeling of you pulsing around him, and right when he reached the opening of your cervix, his place, the one he’s going to surrender himself too, he felt feral.

He’s reached his peak, the most precious part of his mate that he caressed with the tips of his tongue, slicking and stroking the tight muscle that twitched for him, called for him. He couldn’t ever think of retracting himself away, of leaving you alone, not when the sensation of your tightening was so addictive.

He could feel you from here, love you from here. He was able to sense the beat of your heart just because his tongue was touching the most intimate part of you, and he felt his body shake in relief. In satisfaction that this is his home.

Your womb, pretty and fluttery, prospered under his venom. The one he keeps feeding you, rolling out of his glands along his tongue and straight to your cervix, where your muscles pulsed like they were taking him in, drinking him up.

“You’re drinking from me..” he mouthed at your sensitive clit, your cunt was so overstimulated, so used but still restless against his tongue. “Your womb.. she’s taking from me. She recognises me..” he’s completely frenzied.

And you were slipping in and out of consciousness, unaware in a bubble of constant bliss, you didn’t know if you were cumming anymore— all you could feel was the consistent thrumming, the consistent pulling and convulsing of your walls around his tongue while the tips swirled and pushed at your cervix, almost like they were cuddling against it.

Jake’s body slumped, engulfed in elation while your figure rested under him, legs occasionally twitching when he caressed too hard, his mouth and tongue locked. This time on your cunt, feeding his venom inside of you to claim you, to leave a mark so deep it’s almost a wound, a scar that you’ll always carry.

A deep connection, a familiarity between his venom and your womb.

So he kept feeding you, even when your awareness floated away, keeping you sealed in a cloud of pure pleasure and surrender. Even when his muscles ached and his tail twitched wildly, and even when his sweatpants felt so warm and sticky from his mindless release right when your womb accepted him.

He was still inside of you, like a good, responsible and possessive mate that will do anything for his other half. He caressed you, he held you and kept you full while your cervix allowed it, welcomed it, loved it.

You were flourishing with his venom flooding you from the inside, and it was just the beginning.

The serpent placed a big porcelain plate in front of you. Vibrant with colours of different fruits and vegetables, the pretty hues from the berries and the chopped pieces of bell peppers alongside the golden glow of the fried eggs he made so early in the morning.

Packed with protein and filling, just what he needed for his mate. “Eat. All of it, angel.” His words were tender, touch even softer in comparison. He hovered behind you, towering frame that glimmered with scattered scales along his tail, Jake’s built was so impressively massive he could cover you with his body completely.

“I need you to be healthy, at all times. Need you to be energetic and strong.” His clawed finger ran along your shoulder blade, careful and featherlight. Teasing the strap of your short, satin nightgown that he picked up when your body was too sensitive to even move. You nodded at his attentiveness, heart swelling in your chest when he placed a soft kiss to your neck. “Eat well, my mate.”

And you did, fingers grabbing the honeyed toast apart as you chewed, strawberries bursting with sweetness in your mouth as you nourished your body the whole time your viper’s tail stroked your thighs, travelling along the dips and curves of your skin gently. Scales velvety soft as if each movement that was caressing you was kissing your body.

You turned around every now and then to pop a piece of fruit into his mouth, pulling apart your toast unevenly to give him the bigger pieces, and he accepted all of them. Flicking his long tongue out to tease your fingertips that held the food to his lips before he let the edge of his fang graze your skin, just to hear you giggle when he finally took the piece in his mouth.

He felt himself falling closer to you, even though there was barely in space between you two physically, he still was lured towards you. No matter how much he kissed you, touched you and breathed you in he always yearned to be closer.

To nuzzle into you, carve a space in your heart just for him and stay there, safe and protected in the spot that he flourished in. He could never feel himself close enough— if possible, he wanted to bore his entire soul to yours.

You fed him when you believed that it was the opposite, you loved and protected him when you thought that he was the one doing everything. But the truth was that he would’ve crumbled apart ages ago if it wasn’t for your kind touch and loving eyes that gazed at him like he hung the stars in your universe, he breathed the air into your lungs and he brought the sun out to your sky.

So devoted, so in love and so mated.

He adored you, his very being was wrapped around you, surrounding you in ways only a serpent could wrap around their mate. He wasn’t just bonding himself to you, eventually making himself just bonded— no, he was fated to you.

The same way you accepted him, the same way you were fated to him.

A fusion of your two souls, laced with warm blood and sweet venom that glowed between your chests, something beyond comprehension skills, beyond the relationships and marriages you were used too, because you weren’t in love with jake. You dedicated every piece of yourself to him.

And he held each piece with care, a teasing yet gentle hold. Just like the way he nipped your finger now.

“Ow! That one hurted.” You huffed, the serpent’s pupils thinned when he let out a sudden breath, a laugh at your endearing expression while you stared at your perfectly fine finger.

Jake quickly engulfed your finger in his hands, cool blooded heart unable to take the slight pout in your face. He pressed his lips right on the spot he grazed, “all better now, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

The serpent kept you close, arm now cradling your side, tail wrapped protectively around your ankle all the while his own hand fed you from the plate since your hand should ‘just rest now’ according to his words.

And he pressed a soft kiss to your overly sweet mouth after each bite. As if to praise you, to seal the bite inside and make sure that you swallow it.

When you’re done with everything, he presses a kiss to your throat.

It felt like a ‘thank you’ rather than a kiss, a small appreciation for nurturing you and keeping you in his arms.

You cuddled closer to him, a habitual heat radiating off his body that pulsed against you. Making you feel every breath, every beat and every pulse. You were a part of him as much as he was a part of you.

“Jake..” your voice was giddy, calling for him as he hummed peacefully behind you, his lips were gently littering kisses along your shoulder, down your arm and right on the faint throb on your wrist.

And then you felt it.

A deep, carnal hunger, the same discomfort, the same itch from two nights ago— it made you shift in your seat, retracting your arm from his hold like you couldn’t fully breathe for a moment, your body was feverish.

Jake’s eyes narrowed, detecting the shift instantly and flicking his tongue out to taste the air— distress, agitation, thirst.

His tail unwrapped from your ankle, “everything okay?” Voice low, attentive and protective. You shook your head, a dryness aching in your throat. “I think .. that thing is happening again.” The serpent’s composure wavered.

It was working. Your body .. was thirsty for him again.

It made jake swoon. A slight tremor in his fingers when he breathed out shakily, his own body trembling in the need to provide, the need to protect and love.

He felt like he was drowning in you.

“Oh baby..” he cooed, muscular arms wrapping around your middle to lift you off and bring you back to the nest, your safe space and his home. He carried you tenderly, claws nowhere to be seen while his soft palms caressed your skin.

Jake laid you down above the fabrics, the cloths and clothes and the blankets that he chose, his own larger body hovering above you while your stomach churned in hunger. The feeling bubbling up and burning your throat, making you whimper in his hold as he shushed you softly.

He leaned down to your neck, pressing his nose right above your pulse point, each thump making his muscles relax as he flicked his tongue out— little beads of poison glittering that he licked down your skin.

The serpent kept moving, nuzzling your skin, kissing your collarbones, licking right above your breasts, nipping along your shoulders while his palm pressed on your lower stomach— right above your uterus where you felt a contraction pulse the moment his skin touched yours.

A gasp slipped out of you at the feeling, a sudden rush of heat washing down your body as you began gushing, folds soaking through your panties while Jake gazed at you in awe. “You’re already calling for me..” he was mesmerised.

“Your womb .. she’s calling for me again. She recognises me even more than I expected.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead right to the heat source, right between your hips, “I still have to prepare you more for me, love.”

“Still need you to be ready for me.. so you can take all of me.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, words of reassurance and calm spilling past his lips but there trickles of sweat on his temples, the tips of his claws almost fully appearing— and that’s when you noticed that Jake was holding himself back from you.

“Jake .. please.” You whimpered, weak hands curling around him as your hips began to ache in need, a soreness spreading from your throat, to your stomach that felt empty and down between your legs.. where you were practically twitching in desire.

Your nails dug into his muscles, “I need you right now, I need you.” Jake inhaled sharply, his own pants tightening around him, the way you looked at him— with the gentlest twinkle of tears in your eyes, lips wobbling when you begged him to give himself fully to you, to not restrain himself, not now and not ever.

But Jake couldn’t, you weren’t ready for him. He knew this and no matter how much it hurt him— he didn’t want to hurt you.

He’ll take all the needed time to prepare you, to prepare your body for him. So when the time does actually come, you’ll fully accept him instead of being in pain. He could never make you uncomfortable knowing that he was the cause.

“Sweetheart.. you know I can’t. Not yet.” He caressed your jaw, fingers featherlight as they went down your neck, you felt small tears drop slip down your temples that he didn’t hesitate to lick up, the sight of you almost making him whimper with the urge to just fully claim you, adore you and make you his.

“You’re not ready for me yet, little nest.” He mumbled against your skin, tone shaky like his words were hurting him. “but once you are— I promise I’ll never let you go a day without being filled of me. I promise I’ll always let you feel me in any way that you want. You’ll fully breathe me in.”

“But for now, I’ll just keep soothing you with my venom.” His lips were now returning to your neck, fangs peeking past his plump lips that became swollen from the kissing. “Ready, baby?” You nodded your head quickly, tears springing down your eyes fully in anticipation at him finally sedating you.

And then it happened— his fangs sunk right into your pulse point. The sharp tips puncturing your skin, your vein, venom instantly gushing inside of you making your blood flare.

You didn’t even have time to process the pain— the burning wound and sinking of his fangs, didn’t even have time to process the scream that it ripped out from your chest before you fell back to the mattress the moment his poison hit your blood stream directly. No longer being drunk from your throat, it was being injected.

And the feeling was making you intoxicated. Completely drunk in the matter of seconds as you mewled in euphoria, pleasure coursing through you, intensifying with every heart beat inside of you that rushed, picking up the pace when jake growled into your skin.

He moaned when your flavour hit his tongue. The serpent, though not one to crave blood, felt his head spin at yours. The crimson warmth that flushed into his mouth, he was drinking the life of you, the life of his mate.

Then you started to feel it— the more he drank, the more he took, the tighter his hands gripped your hips, the more you floated.

Slowly, faintly slipping out of the embrace of consciousness. Your eyelids became droopy, breaths slow and deep while your entire body relaxed.

Jake noticed all of it. He just venom-fed you into subspace.

The feeling of your body fully surrendering to him, to his scales, to his fangs and to his venom made him groan in satisfaction. You were giving him your complete all.

“That’s right, baby..” he muttered, mouth still so wet of you while you whimpered in his hold, so spent and so high on his poison. The sensation of him flooding you was so electrifying yet so soothing. It was like your entire body was waiting for this again, “go under for me.. just like that.”

Jake didn’t know it yet, but this version of you, so pliant, so unguarded was his favourite. He could protect you all he wanted, kiss you and caress you all he wanted all the while you trusted him just enough to let him do absolutely anything to you.

“Stay there for me, love.. I’ll take care of you.” And he did. His venom pulsed inside of you carefully, filling you up and making ecstasy rush through your entire body that fluttered in his hold. You let go entirely. Not a single thought, a single voice or a single breath in your head. Besides the warmth of his body and the stroke of his scaled tail around your calf. “I always will.”

With his arms wrapped protectively around you and his fangs snug inside of you— you slept in peace. Cradled in the most gentle hold that’s ever touched you, as if you were made of the most divine glass to bless Earth, and in Jake’s eyes of course you were, you were the most precious human he’s ever laid eyes on.

This bite— wasn’t just a simple feeding from him to you, it wasn’t just a bite. It was complete submission, it was dedication and it a confession. All this wasn’t for him, he already knew he had you wrapped around him just like the way he had his tail coiled around you, he knew he had a home in your soul in the same way you owned his.

But this was a mark of love, a promise to the bond that you both created. One that bridged your mortal heart to his serpent one, webbing in between and making them inseparable. And now, each pulse of your heart was connected to his. Each breath that you inhaled to your lungs, he exhaled them for you. Each thought that annoyed your mind, he fought it off for you.

This was past anything that you could’ve shared with another human, and way more exceptional than any mating he could’ve had with another hybrid. Because you were connecting two universe together with each moment you both breathed together— you connected a human to a snake.

A bond that flourished, that bloomed and went beyond any other previous love, relationship or marriage.

You had your soul tied to his now, and you both grew to adore this bond more day by day.

It happens without either of you knowing, without either of you catching on, but the connection grows.

Each night that you spend wrapped in his coils, the taste of his venom still fresh in your tongue and his claws retracted with his hand covering your waist protectively? It blooms.

With every shared breath, it pulses to life. With every exchanged kiss, it stirred like it was awakening— akin to an ancient flame, an ancient dream, a promise. Spoken only between the lips of a human and a serpent, but kept safe. Secure with your love and his scales.

Then it grew, it blossomed. A life formed between the two of you, a new breath that swelled over your relationship, your bond grew. Fully forming, fully developing and connecting you to him, body, mind, soul and heart.

It started off when you were in the den, an open book between your hands while you cuddled up against his hoodie in the nest. Jake was outside, he muttered something about hybrid meetings before disappearing behind the door.

And then you felt a tug— a push at your chest, heat building up but not the good kind, no. You felt angry.

Like something had agitated you, something pissed you off. Something that went wrong.

You sat up right on the bed, brows furrowed at confusion and the way your hands were almost twitching with fury. That’s when the door of your house slammed open, almost getting thrown off of its hinges.

In came Jake. Pupils slit entirely, almost appearing like a thin line as his emerald eyes were dim. Claws full unsheathed while his tail lashed behind him like a whip. He stormed inside of the place, steps heavy and mad.

“Jake..?” You called but his ears were ringing. He didn’t spot your figure walking into the living room, too busy pacing around the area while running his claws through his hair. “Did something happen at the meeting?” When your quiet, calm voice finally registered into his senses, he exhaled.

He breathed for the first time in hours.

An instant relief rushed through him— the same one that you felt as the bond now humming. In satisfaction, in relief at the proximity.

“No.. nothing happened, love. Nothing that you need to worry about.” Jake walked towards you, the anger in his posture fully dissipating when he inched closer and laid his palms on your hips. The touch making him melt against you. “It’s .. nothing serious.” He swallowed heavily.

But you already knew. You felt it.

Shaking your head, “Jake .. I know you’re angry because something went wrong.” Now his eyes were locked on you. “I don’t know what it is.. but it felt like something that you worked hard on was messed up. Like the frustration you get when your effort just goes to waste.” The serpent stilled.

“How did you.. figure all this out?”

“I don’t know, I just felt it.” He tilted his head.

You weren’t a hybrid that could pick up on scent changes, besides the fact that he did storm inside the house with his mannerisms screaming anger, you still knew too much.

“I felt your anger.” You added, your words now making his eyebrow arch while his claws grazed your skin just a tiny bit.

Inching closer, “I felt the way your frustration bloomed in your chest, the way your hands..” you lowered yours to hold onto his, thumb pressing gently against his palm, “the way they shook in anger.”

Jake exhaled shakily.

“I don’t know why, I think it’s this bond thing we have going on. But I truly felt everything like I was the one experiencing.” Your words— you simply didn’t know how much they weighed to jake.

You didn’t know that this was just more confirmation to him that you’re his mate. That the bond is settling in, fully connecting and spreading further into your lives. You felt his emotions when he wasn’t even near you.

Maybe you were unaware, or maybe you weren’t ready to face something like this. But you were already developing a sense of instinct for him. For your mate. This sense, had already existed in jake since he was born, it’s only that now it found its other half.

You were completing him without even knowing.

The bond was flourishing, roaring in love and devotion that only thrummed harder when your mate was close by.

He pressed his forehead to yours, all of his limbs felt relaxed. “It is the bond. You’re not just marked by me anymore, you’re mine and I’m yours. Emotions, thoughts and soul wise.”

“You feel what I feel. That’s how close we are now.” And you only blinked at him in awe, mesmerised by the bond and your creation— this special connection that you formed and developed with Jake with your bare hands, now made you exist within him the same way he will within you.

Over the days, it only blossomed more.

Your thoughts were no longer fully yours, they were sharing a space with Jake’s. And sometimes it was a bit too much.

“I wonder how our kids will look like..” “Jake.” He perked up, tongue flicking out nervously as he looked at you with his eyes widened. “Can you not wonder about our kids when I’m trying to read?” You could’ve sworn you felt just the lightest flush on the tips of his ears. “Sorry..”

“Will i be asking him too much if—“ you’re not even given the chance to continue before you feel a warm tail wrapping around your ankle. Holding you gently as his burly figure slithered behind you. “Never.” He hissed, “you’ll never ask for too much.”

But it was never just your thoughts. Jake started to feel the way you do as well.

Whenever you felt colder than usual, he would cuddle up next to you wordlessly. His scales tangling around you multiple times while he places a gentle kiss on your temple.

The one day you woke up craving something sweet for breakfast, he already had an entire plate of honeyed toast and waffles piling up next to chopped fruits. And he would feed the pieces to you one by one. Glued to your side as he nourished you right in front of his eyes.

With his closeness, the shared attachment and the continuous reaching out for each other, the bond was enchanted. It fluttered whenever the serpent touched a sensitive spot on your skin, buzzed when you kissed his neck.

It bent when he didn’t glance at you in hours. It coiled when you didn’t touch him for a night.

The connection was an indicator and a regulator of everything. Syncing your heartbeats, your thoughts, your souls.

It kept you bounded to jake. In all ways possible, you were his.

That’s why when you woke up one day, with an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen, a warmth burning your skin and an itch that you couldn’t drink away— jake was by your side before you even called for him.

Because he didn’t need you to be verbal about anything anymore, he felt it before you even spoke it.

The discomfort, the pain and shuddering when your entire body ached. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Your voice was hushed when you curled in on yourself in the middle of his nest. Jake was on his knees next to you, slit pupils studying your every move— before the realisation dawned on him.

It wasn’t discomfort it was a tug.

It wasn’t pain it was a call.

“My body .. feels so wrong. It feels so odd.” Because it was ready. “Love..” the air from his lungs was knocked out the second you whimpered and he smelt it.

Like a carnal urge awakening, ripping its way to life within him— he picked up your scent, your need. Your arousal, sweet and addictive wafting through the air to his nose.

His split tongue uncontrollably flicked out to taste it, to taste the tiniest tinge of your nectarine in the air. And he groaned when he realised that you weren’t just ready— you were fertile for him. You tasted fertile.

“It’s not wrong.. or odd.” The serpent hissed, now climbing next to your curled body before his tail and arms engulfed you. “Your body is calling for me, little nest.” You grunted at his words, arousal gushing between your legs like flowing slick. “You’re ready for me.” And at that your legs instinctively opened.

Like a welcoming gesture, the warmth spreading between you both as Jake coiled himself around you, his massive arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close, grounding you. While the other slipped down your hips.

You moaned in relief when he mouthed at your shoulder, fingers dipping past your soaked underwear while the tip of his nose brushed right against your pulse point— and he nuzzled closer. Kissing, nipping, licking at your skin to scent you. Right above your heart beat.

“My pretty mate..” his claws were retracted, rough fingers toying with your folds making you gasp in his hold. “All ready for me.. finally calling for me.” The serpent felt delirious.

He felt the way that the desire that rushed through you, was stemming from the deepest parts of your soul. He was witnessing you naked. Completely bare for his eyes, searching and reaching towards him.

Towards the only person you know that will hold you, soothe you and protect you. Your mate.

Jake moved to hover above you, his tail now circling your hips with the tip stroking your lower stomach where the skin burned him. You looked up at him, pretty eyes glossy with expectancy, waiting when your body blazed with need.

And when you felt a pulse, a contraction blooming in your abdomen in pain— you whimpered his name. So soft, so broken and defenceless.

Jake crumbled entirely. All restraint and plans of being gentle with you in your first time evaporating away.

He needed you, and you need him right now.

“Shh— sweetheart, don’t worry. I’ve got you..” the serpent’s tail coiled around one of your thighs before pulling it towards his hips, opening you. His mouth latched onto your jaw, flicking his divided tongue along your skin while you shuddered under him. Gasps and sighs all falling from your lips as waves of relief washed down on you, the bond humming in satisfaction whenever jake touched you.

“I’ve got you.. your mate’s got you, already so sweet and ready for me..” Jake babbled on the lower his kisses went, plump lips already swollen trailing down your collarbone before he ripped apart your nightgown. Claws shredding the soft satin before settling above your flushed skin gently. So careful. “You’re all ready for me.. I can feel it.” He pressed his palm onto your lower stomach—

And he could’ve sworn he felt a throb. Right under his touch.

Jake couldn’t help the frenzied smile that etched on his features.

You groaned in pleasure when he pressed— applying light pressure, his pupils dilating when your scent sharpened. Sweetened. And the throbbing under his palm continued.

“There she is..” his voice was low, so low it sounded like he was purring. He leaned right next to your ear, akin to a predator taunting their prey, territorial and crazed. “There’s my favourite place.. pulsing for me.” He flicked his tongue out to taste you again. The need, the lust and the desire.

He pressed harder. “Feel that, angel? That’s you wanting me. That’s you being my mate.” Jake breathed in, inhaling your scent like it was his air— like he couldn’t live without it. “That’s where I’m gonna be at all times now. I’m going to keep you full. Here. Always.”

Your limbs were weak, the hunger now burning its way through your veins and lighting you on fire. Like a lava waiting just for the right moment to erupt inside of you, yet you only could whimper under jake. Could only look at him with tears in your eyes in hopes of him doing something.

The serpent then sensed everything.

The burn in your womb, the ache in your body, the warmth pooling between your legs— the bond convulsing with anticipation and jake was left gasping for breath. “Fuck.. baby, this is all for me? This is how you feel for me?” And you nodded because he wasn’t aware of the way he had you suffocating in his love. Wasn’t aware that you were drowning in him.

Now Jake didn’t want to do anything besides the exact same.

To cover and wrap and strangle himself with you. He suddenly lowered himself and finally kissed you.

The gasps and moans fell past your lips effortlessly, the kiss was anything but that. It was the two of you breathing one another in. Biting, licking, sucking with your teeth clashing. His spit instantly dribbled down your throat, the venom bursting in your tongue like it just sprung you back to life and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the serpent’s neck to bring him closer, to take more.

Jake’s entire body was pressed against yours. His tail thrumming with his heart beat that pulsed wildly, smooth scales turning warmer by the second, you moaned into his mouth and he swallowed. “So pretty.. every pretty noise you make.. every pretty moan are all mine.” He bit on your lower lip, brushing his split ends while tears aligned your waterline, “just mine. Only mine.”

“Jake.. please,” your voice was barely audible, a small, broken sound between all his hissing. “I need you, really bad. It hurts.” Jake inhaled sharply,

And then he unleashed everything.

His hands, that were so gently caressing your skin, held onto your wrists and pinned them upwards. He pushed his body against yours, his tail pressing at your hips after coiling around once— trapping you under him.

The serpent hissed loudly. A light vibration rumbling in his chest that spread to your body, he began to rut into you. Hips rubbing and grinding mindlessly, you felt a poke— a pressure. Of something massive, warm, throbbing.

The size alone makes you choke a gasp out, jake smiled like he knew that you felt him. “Felt me, little nest? I’m gonna be inside you all the time now.” He whispered hotly into your skin. “Gonna let you crave me so much you’ll want me in all the time, everyday.” And you knew that he meant every word. Because Jake always kept his promises.

He loved the way your wetness seeped through his clothes to coat him. Loved the way you were so soaked and so eager to claim you couldn’t help yourself but do it even without him touching you. He wanted you to claim and mark him just as bad as he wanted to do it to you, and now was his chance to bring all his dreams to life.

While you were shuddering and gasping beneath him, his tail uncoiled.

The tip that once rested on your hip, inched closer to your middle— right before dipping under your panties.

You froze.

“Feel me, baby?” His tail thrusted deeper, your pussy tightened around his scales that soothed your walls. Pulsing, throbbing and so hot it felt like he was leaking inside of you. You sobbed when the stretch settled in, so wide it burned you from the inside out. Yet it felt so good. Especially when he pressed down his palm, feeling right where he was. “I’m right here, angel. I’m home.”

You squealed when his rough tip, now soft and swollen nuzzled right into your cervix opening. The small, pulsating rhythm of the beginning of your uterus throbbing at the contact. You sniffled as you weakly held onto him, body completely open and vulnerable at his mercy. “Jake.. a-are you sure this is okay—?” You sounded so shy. So bewildered at what he was doing to you, to your little pussy that could only stretch and drool around him.

The serpent laughed breathlessly. “Of course, baby. You’re taking me so well.. wrapping around my tail so nicely, look how pretty you look all open for me.” His praises fell off his lips like honey, Jake felt the way you clenched around his scales as he stretched you open. Your cunt dripping more and more each time he pulled back just the slightest bit before pushing his tail all the way back in.

Up until his swollen tip pressed against your cervix, and then began to pulse.

Your body twitched above the nest. Hips jerking forward when Jake didn’t pull back, he only throbbed right into your opening like his tail was kissing your cervix. “J-Jake.. what’s going on—“ “shhh Angel girl. Don’t worry about anything, let your mate prepare your pretty womb.” And then you felt the force, the pull.

The suction right against your tight ring of muscles. Like he was pulling your uterus down and making it bloom open at the same time— you felt the way your womb contracted right before dilating at his command.

And at the sensation of the hot, sticky and wet sucking, you thrashed in his hold. Your entire body felt like it was melting away while Jake wrapped his arms around you roughly, to keep you in place when you sobbed into his neck.

You felt so overwhelmed. The feeling was building up inside of you so rapidly, your heart thundered in your chest, struggling to keep up with everything that was happening.

From his whispered praises, sloppy mouth kissing and licking anywhere he could reach, the peak of his claws appearing every second just to dig and then disappear— and his tail. His tail that felt like it was splitting you as it sucked at your cervix, trembling as if to beg for your womb to let it inside. Everything felt debauched, so cruel yet so blissful.

“Gonna make your needy womb all open for me..” the serpent grunted breathlessly next to your ear, tongue flicking to lick the shell before he spoke again. “Get you all pretty and ready for me.. so you’ll be able to carry my clutch, baby.” You whimpered.

Throat hoarse from the consistent moaning and sobbing, eyelashes heavy from the unshed tears, the nest felt unbearable— yet it was also the only place you wanted to be in right now. The air so thick with his scent, with your slick and his wafting pheromones that floated away from his scales. Sweat clinging to both of your bodies, increasing the more his skin rubbed to yours.

Jake felt his senses slipping through his fingers, nostrils flared as he tried his best to inhale into his suffocating lungs. He could only feel you. Only breathe and sense you. His instincts flaring yet calming down at the same time, his thoughts incoherent as an ancient, a primitive hiss echoed through him. Like the serpent inside of Jake fully awakened this time.

With the intention to arouse, to stake, to coil around what’s his.

That was exactly what his body was moving to do before he was even aware of it. He felt so lost, so drunk and mindless with his hands gripping your hips to anchor himself. Yet nothing helped, he felt himself slipping further into the warmth, the engulfing embrace of lust and mating.

He wanted nothing more than to be connected to you in the most intimate way possible. His tail that cradled your cervix, the opening that fluttered around him like a blooming flower— latched on. Sucking and pulling like your womb was its only lifeline. Jake shuddered above you the more his body desperately pulled.

Your legs folded around his hips, pulling his tail even closer when your entire body yearned for him. Thirst amplifying by the second, your skin was feverish. Blazing with an entire layer of glistening sweat. You could no longer talk or speak— you left all the talking to your weak limbs that gripped onto the serpent like he was the only thing keeping secure, keeping you afloat above the sea of need that you both were drowning in.

It felt too intimate, too close, too much. You couldn’t breathe without his hot mouth touching you in some way, you felt your mind shut down the moment his hands would move from one place to another— and jake was weak.

His hands almost frail while his legs trembled. “Shit sweetheart.. you’re taking me in so well.” His tone airy, barely carrying the usual edge to it when he was melting on top of you. You could only flutter around his tail, your shyness still glowing and it made his heart lurch to his throat.

Then he moved his hand, one stayed anchored next to your head to steady himself while the other dipped low. He lowered himself to litter kisses down your neck, whispers of loving, sweet promises all spoken carefully to your skin only. Like it was a promise between him and your body alone.

Jake’s figure was restless. Twitchy, so sensitive. He felt something unfurling within him— something he wasn’t fully prepared for himself. And it excited him and terrified him at the same time.

The scratch of claws against his ribs, the graze of fangs against his throat. He was holding back his serpent from fully possessing him. Coming out and claiming, marking and hurting. Because that’s what his kind did.

It was driving him insane. But you looked so pretty under him.. writhing just from his tail that suckled on your womb like it was breathing air. A singular moment of break would mean that he would starve. His movements were all steady, stable. continuous.

Yet there was an urge to just dig his claws inside of you. To land his final touch and lay his clutch in your warmth— to fully possess you and change you. Witness the way your body will adapt to him.

The effect of him on you.

Jake tried his hardest to hold back, even if he was thrusting his tail inside of you like he was chasing his own high. Even if he felt the way you gushed and shuddered around him when your climax fluttered through you, he still attempted his best to tame his animalistic side.

But serpents were always stronger than humans. He could only do so much with his humane abilities—

That’s why he slipped his tail out in the blink of an eye, his pupils slitting to thin threads when a cry fell from your lips right before he flipped you over onto your stomach.

The serpent was wild. Claws now fully digging into your skin making you whimper in pain, his muscular chest pressed to your back. Pushing you towards the mattress while he held your hips, shifting them upwards to press against his own.

He was completely slipping. Fangs bared, venom dripping down his throat. A deadly glint in his as his breaths came out shallow. The mortal cuffs he had forced upon himself melting entirely when a painful throb spread right from under his abdomen—

From right below his waistline, where his slit slowly folded open to allow his erect cock to slither from behind his iridescent scales— he was massive. Awakened and excited. Way past the average human size, tip a primal red while his base flushed gently with the same gleaming dark emerald of his scales.

And he was leaking so much you would’ve thought that it was his climax instead. Pretty, opaline with infused venom ropes of cum drizzled past his length. Dripping onto the fabrics of the nest when he pressed the head of his cock to your sopping entrance.

He felt absolutely feral. His hands trembling, attempting his best to keep him steady while he teased your cunt. The serpent’s mouth was unable to detach from your body, “mine mine mine..” he whispered with his eyes half lidded, drowning in desire.

“All mine.. my pretty mate, my little nest.” He spoke, wrapping one of his hands around your neck. Fully thrusting inside of you. “There we go..” and you were panting.

He was so big, so deep. “J-jake.. please slow down—“ he paused.

Length throbbing, flaring between her stretched walls. “You want me to slow down.. when she’s been waiting for me?” Jake mocked.

His grip on your jaw tightened, sharp nails indenting your skin. “How could I possibly do that, baby?” Now his voice was softer. Desperate, wet with the leaking venom from his fangs. He talked like he was guilt tripping you, like he couldn’t believe that you wanted him to slow down. Like it hurt.

“Just a little bit— don’t stop, m’not asking you to..” the serpent exhaled heavily, continuing to sheath himself inside of you. “You don’t get what you do to me, baby..”

“You dont get what I want to do to you right now..” his voice was unlike his. Something dark, something ferocious spoke from within him. Thick with malice, webbed in the impulse to ruin.

And you were the victim. You were the chosen one to take. The thought alone made you shiver beneath him, goosebumps appearing making the animal behind you chuckle in amusement.

“Scared?” Jake snarled right next to your ear. Smiling when more tears slipped past your eyes— from the adrenaline that dug into your heart, the swirled combination of fear and excitement— terror and arousal. “No need to be scared, baby.. I’m just here to take care of you.”

He whispered like he was trying to distract you. Like his words could conceal the burn, the unbearable stretch of his serpent cock that thrusted inside of you.

You gasped wordlessly, back arching when fresh tears aligned along your jaw. Every single inch of your body felt electrified while you felt almost suffocated. “Breathe.” Jake growled.

Fangs brushing your ear. You struggled, you felt consumed. Undertaken by a dizzying fog of pleasure and euphoria— so strong it numbed you. “Breathe baby..” this time his thumbs pressed right above your jugular vein making you choke.

“J-jake—! S’too much— too deep—!” “But baby you’re taking it so well though..” you cried when his hand creeped to close just lightly around your mouth. “Listen to her, angel.” And you did. The wet, noisy and obscene sounds of your pussy clenching around him when he thrusted, pulling his hips back for a slight second— only letting you feel his tip before shoving his cock inside of your cunt that squirted in relief. “How am I supposed to slow down when this is how you sound for me?”

He trembled behind you. Legs twitching with his pelvis pressing flush into you. “You’re taking your mate too good, sweetness..” the pleasure creeped right up his spine, the sensation making him guttered. “Too good, baby.. you’re driving me insane.”

So soft, so warm. Searingly hot. Your entire body flushed under him, womb pulsing as the head of his swollen cock kept kissing it, pulling it and pushing it like it loved toying with your deepest, most sacred part. His favourite part.

All the while his hovering figure leaned down lower and lower. Until he had his front pressed to your back. Each breath that left his lungs fanned around your skin. His tongue flicked out to taste the thick air. It tasted so abundant with your flavours.

“You’re all mine, angel.. only mine. Just mine. My pretty mate that I’ll love and fill forever.” With each word he pushed more. He stayed inside more. Each time making your limbs melt further above the nest. Everything felt so good— a spell that he spoke in an unknown, ancient language that only he knew the gravity of before blowing it towards you.

He had you fully under his control. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. You barely could move. You were unable to do anything— and for some reason it felt nice.

It was comforting to have his weight pinning you down. Comforting to know that no matter how much your needy cervix ached, he’ll always be there to kiss it better.

It made you feel so safe. So protected and cared for when your mate worshipped you like you were the only religion he knew. The only one he believed in and the only one he saw.

With each stroke of his slick cock that spilled heat inside of you, it felt like your walls were hugging him back. So intimately holding him close even the serpent exhaled shakily at being so accepted— so loved.

Jake then picked up the pace, the slow, deep thrusts shifting into more brutal ones— untamed and beast-like. You mewled into the feathery pillow. So weak compared to the uncontrollable hissing behind you.

Your pussy sucked him in, cervix moulding around his tip the more he teased it. “Feel me here, baby? Doesn’t it feel good to have me here?” And he pressed on your lower stomach. Caressing the bulge of his viper cock that massaged your insides, he felt every flutter, every vein and every ridge while you cried, so overwhelmed.

“F-fuck yes—! I love it, I love it so much— I love how deep you are in me, jakey—“ you babbled, drunk. Wholly under the altered cloud of pleasure he always manages to form around your head. Jake growled at your tone, so airy. He could practically taste how high on his love you were. “Yeah, baby? I’m gonna be here all the time now. Gonna keep your greedy cunt stuffed of me.” His claws glowed, fangs almost vibrating in instinct.

Mark. Claim. Bite. Ruin.

And Jake sunk his teeth right into your shoulder blade, the sensation instantly making you unravel around him as you milked his cock that burned. His hips snapping against you wildly while your arousal drizzled down onto the nest, ruining everything just like the way you were right now.

Sobbing, vision spotted with your ears ringing as Jake fucked you through your orgasm before pulling another one out of you. Your womb was convulsing. Contractions washing down on your body so painfully yet the waves of ecstasy were stronger.

The serpent then injected his venom into you again. The flush of the sweetness bursting in your veins from the hidden hunger. The unknown crave that just got settled, Jake groaned at your taste once again. Your blood tasted even more saccharine when it was engulfed by your orgasm.

You crashed. Over and over again. His length relentless as it rammed inside of you, fucking into all of your sweet spots that made your body jerk under Jake. “That’s it, isn’t it angel?” He breathed heavily when you squealed right as his hips pressed to you in a certain angle— “that’s your sweet, baby spot. Isn’t it? I’m going to worship it.” And he did.

His tip nursed from it. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. The knot in your abdomen no longer formed— you were stuck in a constant state of falling apart while your womb milked his cock even more.

It felt like your body had a mind of its own. So needy, so desperate that no matter how much your mind practically shut down it didn’t care. It was addicted, attached, dependent.

And Jake loved it. He loved the way your pussy was wrapped around him. Tightly, possessively. Unwilling to let go whenever he pulled back— you were claiming him back. Your body was dragging its marks on him, etching its way into his very own skin with the way his cock was tight with desire. The need to unleash and finally paint your insides with him.

So he kept going, because he couldn’t think. He couldn’t process anything. He only felt the pulses, felt the tugging, felt the constant edging of something ready to release, prepared to snap.

“I’m gonna fill you up so well, sweetheart.” The snake hissed, his hand now moving to cradle your lower belly. Where he was going to make you swell with him. His tail coiled behind him, body building in anticipation while his fangs teased your open wound. Where he could still taste you on his tongue.

“Stuff you so full you’ll be leaking of me for weeks. You’ll feel me every time you move.” You shivered at his words. Not because you were scared— but because of how you felt a drop. The lowering of your cervix as it opened more, like a second starved mouth, like it wanted to be stuffed. It wanted to be filled with your mate’s seed.

And when your muscles fluttered around his cock’s head he cooed. “Oh angel.. your pretty womb is just as needy for me as I am for her.” His hand now pressed harder and he felt your uterus flutter back at his touch. “I’ll soothe her.. I’ll satisfy her. Always.”

You couldn’t help the way your body arched further into the bed— hips shifting to allow him to go even deeper while your face was buried into the pillow now. You were still inviting him in even when he was drowning in you.

“P-please.. don’t let me be empty.” And that sentence alone broke Jake.

Then you heard the aftermath— it wasn’t a moan, it wasn’t a gasp, it wasn’t something human.

It was a vibration. One that started from the tip of his tail to the top of his head— a click and then a rattle. A heavy, snapping noise that came deep from within his guts. He was released.

“You want to be filled up with me?” The voice that spoke from behind you wasn’t Jake. The moment you froze in shock— walls clenching in surprise when you turned around and saw him different.

His pupils were in their thinnest form, emerald irises glowing brightly in the dim nest. Fangs fully dropped and dripping with venom that fell atop your lower back, right before melting and being drunk by your skin. His scales were fluttering, a dusty green covering the tips of the ones that emerged around his shoulders and neck, down to his forearms.

He looked wickedly frightening. He looked monstrous.

And somehow that made you want him even more.

“I’ll break you.” His tone was a fusion between a hiss and a deep, heavy rumbling that came from the depths of his chest. “I’ll ruin you completely. I will crawl inside of you and alter you. Just like I did with my venom, just like how you belong to me now.” His words, his mouth dripped with venom.

It scared you. Fuck, it terrified you. Yet you still couldn’t find it in yourself to move away, to escape from the beast behind you. The one that was buried so deep inside of you while you tightened around him, pouring at every word he growled at you.

You couldn’t help the way you pushed yourself back under him— the way you pushed your pelvis back against his, and he laughed.

A guttural, dangerous laughter that made more poison spill out from his mouth. “You want me to claim you just as bad as I do.. you want me to take your soul.” And you nodded.

You agreed because you couldn’t function anymore. You couldn’t imagine, couldn’t think about any possibility or life that doesn’t revolve around your serpent. You couldn’t do it, your mind refused to conjure up any image of you that didn’t have scales. That didn’t have venom marks. That didn’t have chilling split pupils.

Because your own body depended on him now. It responded to him, it recognised him, it knew him. You were marked, you were owned.

You had already given him your heart and body, it was only a matter of time before he sunk his fangs around your soul as well.

And you would allow it, because you knew you were safe. You knew that your mate would make the sky fall above the grass to keep you warm and protected between his arms.

Even if he had you away from the world, even if his voice became the only one that you knew, his eyes the only ones you saw and his body the only one you felt, you would never pick another over him.

You could never not choose him. You could never live without your mate.

And Jake claimed everything. His thrusts turned animalistic. Like he was ravaging your guts, scarring your insides to only accept him. His claws sunk back into your hips, deep and unforgiving. Any time your figure jerked forward— moved the slightest bit from under him— he would drag you back.

Because under him is where you belonged now. “Don’t try to run from me, pretty.” His tail, still coated with your wetness brushed your calf. “You and I both know you can’t go anywhere.”

The scales circled you, they engulfed you in coils. From around your hips, between your legs, up your waist and finally resting around your neck— right before he squeezed.

“Jake!” You cried, heart ramming into your ribs when you felt your lungs burn with need of air. The serpent kept his coils unmoving, applying the slightest pressure. “Shh, love. You’re safe, I’ll never hurt you.” Your tired hands desperately held onto the cooling scales, where you could sense each breath he took.

With his cock still nestled so deep inside of your weeping womb, he turned your face around with his clawed hand. “If you want air, you can breathe me in.” And before you could utter another word— he shoved his tongue into your parted lips.

Both of you groaned at the familiar taste, the familiar feeling and stretch of his forked split ends that instantly latched onto the back of your throat. He thrusted inside of you again, cock tightening in a way that you felt it from the heavy release he kept pushing back.

Jake hummed when you moaned around his tongue, your eyes closing in euphoria at his venom streaming down your throat while his length split you open. You felt more aches of pleasure branching into your body, endless climaxes and orgasms all knotting together as your mind floated.

“There you go.. keep floating for me, baby. Stay under my venom.” And you did, you took everything he gave you. The warm, filling poison and the hot ropes of precum that he buried inside of you. “Doing so well for me.. you deserve to be filled so good.” He muttered around your mouth before suckling on your muscle like a baby.

The serpent retracted his tongue, he babbled as he felt the heat building up in his cool blooded body, his legs twitching, tail fluttering around you the closer he inched towards his climax before it broke— and it shattered him entirely.

He snarled so loudly, the noise shaking out of his ribs when his limbs tensed, scales vibrating as he came inside of you.

But he didn’t cum like you normally expected, it wasn’t a few ropes of his warm seed— it was a flood.

A blazing hot, endless liquid that bursted inside of you. Making you cry at the feeling of the stream, of the overflow. He kept hissing in pleasure, wrapped up in a storm of mouth watering thrill that coursed through him, intensifying when your womb constricted— like it was drinking him up, filling your uterus with all he gave.

You were sobbing against the pillow now, covered in a sticky pool of wetness, of arousal and his flooding that didn’t decrease— and then you felt a poke. “There it is..” it was a swell.

A consistent rising, a bump that formed right around his base that was being pushed inside of you now.

Inside of your gushing entrance that clenched in surprise— in shock when you screamed at the ceaseless stretch. The fresh burn, the boiling warmth of his knot as it sunk into you. All the while Jake kept kissing you through it, shushing you and mumbling words into your ear.

“You can take it.. you’re almost there.” His voice was tender now, after his release the viper somewhat softened. You shook under him as your cunt drooled around the new intrusion, much similar to the saliva that dripped out of your mouth.

And then a final pop! That signalled him fully sheathing himself in. Locking him to you with his seed almost sloshing inside of your swollen stomach. The skin on your belly tight and stretched just the slightest bit at the flood.

Jake was in awe.

His clawed hands that were covered in your drool and your indents hovered around your belly, you were so full of him.. so stuffed just from carrying his seed. “You look divine, love.” He kissed right into the wound he had his fangs in just a few minutes ago.

You shuddered at his featherlight touch. A whirling contrast from his predatory hold. Yet you still melted under his fingertips, still floating and relaxed for him.

“Looking so pretty.. just from my seed alone.” His palm pressed against the swell, “wonder how you’ll look like when you carry my clutch.” At those words, you whimpered—

“I want it..” the serpent stiffened. “I want to carry your clutch, Jake.” Jake’s expression changed.

It became unreadable, you were too embarrassed to look at him, your face still covered by the pillowcase, still sensitive. “Baby.. do you realise what you’re asking for?” And before you could even answer, he felt a throb.

Much similar to the one before he bred you, much similar to the one he already memorised— the one of your womb.

Calling for him once again, even when he had just flooded her. She was still greedy. Still wanted more.

Jake smiled.

“Is that so..” he purred, knot swelling down, the bulge slowly slipping out of you. Allowing his gaze to take in the sight of your gaping pussy— still tightening around nothing, still pulsing, still hungry even when she was dripping in him.

You whined at the emptiness, the coldness that wrapped around your womb now that Jake’s cock wasn’t cradling it— the neediness from your body made the serpent sigh in love. “Still want me so bad.. still wanting my clutch.” His hands trailed down your sides that twitched beautifully under his touch.

He then carefully moved you, laying you gently on your back. His tail unfurled from around you slightly, it still hovered next to your hips. He distanced himself just enough to let you breathe.

“I’ll give you my clutch.” Jake whispered right as he looked into your eyes. Half lidded and sparkling with unshed tears that prickled at his heart. “I’ll give you everything that I have.” He leaned down to press the lightest kiss on your lips. Mouths barely touching when his plump lips brushed your swollen ones.

His claws had fully vanished, hands carefully steadying your thighs to wrap around him once more as he slid in between your legs, this time his cock appeared thicker— erect and leaking but swollen. Heavy, loaded.

The sight alone made you salivate. “You’re so.. full,”

“I’ll let it out. I will let it out inside of you.. I’ll make it easy for you.. I’ll make it feel good.” The serpent hissed into your lips, breath hot and heavy as the steam in the nest practically bubbled. The windows were foggy, the room thick and layered with his scent, his pheromones and your arousal.

And then he sank into you once more— this time easier, this time sliding between your slippery walls that gushed around him in welcome. Jake shivered above you, mouth agape while you moaned right into his lips.

The sounds that formed from his cock nudging inside of you were filthy. So nasty, so wet it made your whole body burn. Your hands finally finding the strength to wrap around his wrists on either side of your head just to stabilise yourself.

“She’s so greedy.. she’s sucking me in so well, baby. You’re so needy for me.” Jake whined as his hips worked restlessly, chasing his high when his swollen cock— filled with his clutch caressed your inside, their new home. “I’m gonna give you my babies.. you’ll carry and protect them. You’ll be such a great mama to our babies.” He muttered before dipping his head into the curve of your neck, right where your blood still drizzled in thick droplets.

Your womb quivered with each thrust, every stroke pulling a breath out of your lungs before he sank in so deep his head latched onto your cervix again. “There we go..” Jake’s words were slurred, you were limp above the nest. Slumped under him while he almost evaporated. So intoxicated on the feeling of your walls milking him, so obsessed with how warm your body felt because of him.

And then Jake felt the first drop.. the first swell that indicated his egg lowering. He pressed his hips flush against yours, the head of his cock fully nursing onto your cervix when you felt the shift— the weight, the round sphere that was moving to be inside of you.

“Just like that.. take it, love. Take it and keep it safe.” It finally sunk inside of you, round and weighted. The sensation so new, so intimate as it slipped past him— right into the opening of your cervix that sucked the egg in. Shielding and protecting it in your womb, making you sigh in relief at the sheer relief of carrying his weight— of carrying him.

But then there was another swell.. another drop. “I-is that another—?” “Yes— fuck i have more to give, I always have more to give when it comes to you.” His pelvis jerked into yours, saliva dripping out of his mouth like water as his slit pupils rolled into the back of his head, the feeling burned him from the inside out, blazed his abdomen in ecstatic fire. “Take it, baby. Take all of them from me.”

This time you cried when it pressed into your cervix, the muscles fluttering softly before sucking the egg right next to the other one. The weight increasing in your womb made your legs shake, another release building up even when your body felt so sore. Your pussy still twitching with Jake deep inside of you.

“Last one, little nest. You can take it, I know you can.” The serpent mouthed at your skin, tongue flicking to lick along your cheek, to catch the slipping tears that fell when your stomach felt so full. So heavy and tight already but he was still giving you more.

His palm pressed against the swell, the forming bump of his clutch being protected by you. Being nourished and nurtured inside of you. His instincts flared, the final egg slipping slowly, the heaviest and largest of the bunch— “f-fuck.. we’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re almost full of me.” Jake sobbed into your neck.

His serpent body overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy, by the intensity of the love he held for you. The weight of acceptance, of you wanting him back. All crashing down on him as he stuffed you with his final egg, the bulge of it making you both gasp as the stretch ripped a release from you, so deep, so carnal.

“That’s it baby.. you did it. You’re carrying my soul now.” He spoke tearfully into your mouth, still so close to you. Still buried deep inside of you, his tip remained nuzzled against your cervix that fully closed now. Fulfilled and satisfied.

The serpent’s palm rested against your stomach, it felt warm. Soft with you now holding him, nestling his babies inside the most precious part of you. “You look so beautiful.. all mine. Just mine, so full of me.” Jake worshipped your body.

Tail caressing the underside of your belly while the snake moved towards you, laying next to your body before cradling you against him. All his instincts telling him to protect. To shield.

You hummed in content. So spent, so tired and so bred. Your heart’s pace finally calming down when you cuddled closer to Jake’s warmth. The serpent’s tongue flicked out to touch your neck, your shoulders, just to scent you again. To surround you with him completely while you carry his clutch.

“Sleep now my little nest. I’ll protect you and our babies.” His whisper fluttered with love, your eyes already closing the second he began to purr for you. Soft vibrations calming your nerves while his scales coiled around you protectively, his palm resting above your lower stomach.

“All mine.” The serpent hissed quietly before closing his eyes.

a,n. holy fucking shit it’s finally done. thanks for reading this fever dream 🫶🏼 & feedback is greatly appreciated ! ♡

[islesnap]

happy pride month, gay ppl in my phone <3 they will NEVER erase us. remember that. be safe this month and remember: the first pride was a riot. 🫶🏻🏳️‍🌈

[islesnap]

oh coco you absolute ARTIST THANK YOU FOR THE MEALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL GOD BLESS!!!

mdni

cherry on top | njm

plug!bf!jaemin x f!reader ft. besties shotaro and haechan

summary: jaemin is the perfect boyfriend, but you're starting to get a little nervous about the future of your relationship now that he’s also the town’s perfect plug. with his business getting more demanding, his popularity exploding, and your time together lessening, you come up with a plan to make sure he remembers where home is—not that jaemin would ever even dream of forgetting.

pt. 3 of the strawberry cough universe, can be read alone!

wc: 7.7k 18+ mdni

genre: fluff, smut, slight angst, established relationship

cw: weed use, plug!jaemin, told from both pov’s, jaemin and reader are extremely down bad and in love and are still working on communication, super super sweet, very silly, both just think too much, some misunderstandings, oral (giving), fingering, riding, explicit pinv sex, unprotected though reader is on the pill, a little breeding kink, a lot of praise, marking, possessive language, cockwarming, pet names: angel, baby, pretty

two and a half years is not as long as it has felt.

it’s just a small fraction of how long the average human life is, but it’s been two and a half years since you met jaemin for the first time, and you can confidently say that he’s the love of your life. he’s the perfect lover, and to this day he still rolls all your blunts and lights them, too.

he is as perfect a plug as he is a lover, and you can see that in the way his business has skyrocketed during your time together.

the world of buying and selling weed comes easy to some, but not so much for others.

there’s this idea that going to a plug for your weed fix means you have to already know everything about it, and exactly what you want. it doesn’t help that the average plug is pretty stoic, intimidating even if they don’t mean to be.

as a result, many are too scared to ask questions that might make them look like an inexperienced newbie, or will continue to mooch off their friends instead of actually going to a plug themselves.

in reality, a question or two doesn’t hurt, and yeah, it helps to know what you want, but there’s no shame in not knowing. at least that’s jaemin’s motto when it comes to his business.

he’s kind to all interested in buying regardless of their knowledge level, diligently answering questions about strains and effects, willingly giving recommendations for different customer needs.

customers of all different kinds come to him, and ones who start with him end up loyal returnees based on just how comfortable he makes them.

while you were glued at the hip for the first 2 years of the relationship, in recent months you don’t get to see him as much with how busy he’s become. you used to see him almost every day, and now you’re lucky to even get a day or two with him a week.

he’s worked hard to get here, even being able to quit his day job to focus fully on selling, so as his partner, you’re proud to see him succeed. you don’t mind the time apart.

you exit the elevator, walking down the hallway to his apartment just as a duo of girls are leaving with familiar little brown bags, giggling with hushed whispers.

“did you see the way he smiled at me?” one asks the other before they both erupt into squeals, the sound grating to your ears.

actually, you do mind.

you knew jaemin was the most attractive man you ever met from the second you laid eyes on him, but now everyone knows that. he oozes boyfriend, and you know many of the customers who come daydream about him as theirs. it wouldn’t be the first time you saw a customer of his taking his customer service smile the wrong way.

you wouldn’t call yourself the most jealous person in the world, especially when you and jaemin have established healthy communication after a few incidents of misunderstanding, but it’s hard not to feel some type of way when you know a part of the reason for his increase in business is word of the extremely attractive and gentlemanly plug going around the town.

he makes all people comfortable, just as he did you. you’re so happy that your boyfriend is just that perfect, but a selfish part of you wishes that only you got that experience.

jaemin would never cheat, but the idea of any of those girls wanting to steal your place makes your stomach hurt—not that many even know that the place beside him is taken.

you unlock his door with the spare key he gave you a couple months into the relationship, finding him sat on the couch, looking extra cuddly in a hoodie, glasses sitting low on his face.

he didn’t always wear glasses, but the hard work has worn down his eyes, leading to the new accessory he wears only when he’s extra tired. the glasses make you weak, and you curse inwardly at the fact that those girls from earlier got to see him like this.

he gets up as soon as he catches sight of you, and almost all of the negative thoughts are out the door when you see the loving look he gives you, sweeping you into his arms with the same amount of adoration he always has.

you can’t help but wonder if things will change with time.

“hi there, beautiful,” he greets, tilting his head to give you a sweet kiss, pulling back to take in your face before giving you another. “i missed you, angel,” he murmurs against your lips. you let him guide you back to the couch, grabbing his pipe and lighter before pulling you to sit with him.

you melt into his hold, the familiar clicking of the lighter and smell of burning flower filling your senses. he takes a quick hit, blowing it out to the side before offering it to you.

you shake your head no, burying yourself further into him.

“what’s on your mind, hm?”

curse your attentive boyfriend and his ability to always tell when there’s something wrong with you.

his hand comes behind your head, digging his fingers into your scalp and neck as he rubs firm circles into your tense muscles, massaging away your tension.

“it’s nothing, baby,” you sigh, melting further into his touch, sighing out in relief as he works his magic.

“are you sure?” his eyes bore into you, his lips pouting. he uses his grip on the back of your neck to bring you into another sweet kiss. “we talk about our feelings, don’t we?

you sigh again. “we do..”

yet you can’t bring yourself to bring it up right now, especially seeing as he looks even more tired than you are. your job ends when you clock out, but his follows him home.

“work has just been a lot… the owner has really upped the advertising so we’ve been getting a lot more customers,” you explain. you aren’t lying, there’s just more to it.

he hums in understanding, bringing his hand down to rub at your shoulders, his thumb putting pressure into the tense joints. you hiss at the brief pain before it goes away, your shoulder relaxing.

“you know, you could always quit your job. i’ll take care of you, baby,” he coos, and you waive him off with a laugh.

“you’re silly.”

“i’m serious!”

“i’m not gonna do that to you. plus, how am i gonna pay rent?” you shake your head, patting his hand on your back as a thank you for the massage before shifting to wrap your arms around him. you lean your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, letting it calm you.

“i’m good with the way things are, i just need to recharge,” you sigh. you don’t know if that statement is more for convincing him or yourself.

he kisses the top of your head, voice softening into a sweet whisper. “well, good thing you’re dating a plug,” he jokes, eyebrows wiggling. you can’t help but let out a giggle, feeling your heart lighten just a bit.

“actually, give me a hit of that,” you point to his pipe. he laughs and obliges, as he always does.

and with the few hits you do take, jaemin holding the pipe for you, the tightness in your chest unravels.

there’s nothing to worry about.

it’s different when you don’t have your loving boyfriend wrapped around you. nowadays, that’s most of the time.

“trouble in paradise?”

“are you sure you’re the one who should be asking that?”

“hey! we’re way past that.”

you laugh at the back and forth from your friends in the group video call consisting of you, shotaro, and haechan—a very unlikely trio, but one you cherish.

after unintentionally causing trouble in your and jaemin’s relationship a year ago, haechan made it a point to make it known that he’s only interested in you platonically, though pushing his friend’s buttons is always a pleasure.

with his efforts, he’s quickly wormed his way into your life as a good friend, though your boyfriend is still the tiniest bit wary about you two being alone together.

you just need a few opinions, and having someone from your side (shotaro) and jaemin’s side (haechan) seems to be the right way to get some good insight.

“anyways, what’s wrong?” shotaro asks worriedly. “i thought things have been good.”

“yeah, aside from barely seeing you two nowadays because jaemin’s so goddamn busy, the guys and i have been saying we’re expecting the wedding invites soon,” haechan jokes, but he quickly backtracks after seeing your deadpan expression.

“it’s kind of stupid…” you start, which shotaro denies with a reassuring shake of his head. “..but i think we’re going through a turning point in our relationship.”

“is he acting different now that he’s some big shot weed guy of the town?” haechan asks with a tone of genuine annoyance.

“no!” you deny right away. “it’s me… things are perfect when we’re together, but when we’re apart, i think i just get in my head and it freaks me out.”

they encourage you to continue, listening attentively.

“i just- he’s so perfect, and now, everyone is seeing that. but don’t get me wrong, i’m happy for him! proud even, he’s worked so hard to get to this point,” you sigh. you really are happy for him, and you hate the thought of dampening his success. but you can’t help the way you feel.

“i’m just wondering where my place is in all of this.”

haechan is retorting in a split second.

“dude, that guy adores you. i swear he was going to kill me when he thought i was trying to get at you,” haechan tries.

“i know…”

the jumble of thoughts seems to untangle, and you finally can put your worries into words, pouring your heart out to your buddies.

everything is good right now—more than good— but you want things to always be good. you want to be with jaemin for the rest of your life.

but now you’re left with the question of if he would want that. what can you offer besides verbal and physical expression of love and your presence, especially when you don’t see him?

you don’t really know much about weed other than what he’s shown you, and you can’t really buy him the most elaborate gifts when most of your cafe salary goes to rent.

you know he loves you more than anything, but the romantic interest had been there since day one, so you weren’t ever friends before things got physical and turned into love. you’re still learning more and more with each day.

it’s been a while since you’ve felt this sort of uncertainty, with jaemin being the most reassuring person ever, but you can’t help the anxious thoughts.

“i know he loves me, guys, and that’s not the problem,” your voice shakes. “what should i do to make sure it stays that way?“

the guys are quiet for a second as you conclude your thoughts, wanting to be careful with their words as it has set in that this is more serious than they thought.

shotaro speaks up first, his tone soft and comforting. “i really don’t think jaemin is the kind of guy who bases his love on what you can contribute to him—and don’t base your self worth on a man, you’re amazing.”

haechan agrees. “exactlyy, and trust, if it were that way he would’ve dropped me and the guys a long time ago. he does a lot for us.”

“he knows where home is,” shotaro adds, and haechan chuckles as you roll your eyes. the humor is welcome when your mind is in shambles.

you know their arguments are right. but it’s not that he’s making you question your self worth, it’s not about you as a person—it’s you as his lover, a role you cherish so much.

you don’t want him to meet someone who could offer him the world, while all you have is your love for him.

you want to contribute to him, you want to make him just as happy as he’s made you. you just don’t know how to go about that.

your friends’ words provide a little comfort, however, that love itself is enough.

a few weeks fly by as your hold onto your friends’ affirmations about your relationship, allowing you to go about your life without that worry at the front of your mind.

scratch that, it’s definitely at the front of your mind, and a genius idea comes to you. he might know where home is, but what can you do to make sure he doesn’t forget? if you don’t know what more you can do for him, maybe you can learn.

with jaemin no longer taking up most of your free time, you search up different ways to show someone you love them.

1. cooking your lover a home cooked meal

you look into some recipes—maybe you can make him a nice home cooked meal. as you experiment, the flavors don’t quite taste right, but practice makes perfect, right?

2. relieving their stress with some a relaxing massage

you watch some massage tutorials— jaemin’s always doing that for you, so maybe it’s time to return the favor. haechan and renjun come to the cafe you work at pretty often as their own jobs are nearby, so you practice on them when it’s not too busy. they do their best to direct you, but it’s a bit discouraging to hear more grunts of pain than sighs of relief.

3. learning more about and participating in their interests

you’ve never been the best at rolling blunts, always buying pre-rolls from shotaro or opting for smoking from a piece before you met jaemin. he’s always rolling for you and all his customers, and you wonder how he’d feel if you surprised him. you ask shotaro for pointers over the phone and try to get more insight into any plug duties that might help you help jaemin.

you’re motivated at first, but it’s still a little tough given that jaemin is perfect at quite. literally. everything.

you? you’re doing your best.

you tried to cook him a nice recipe you found online, but you just ended up setting off the fire alarm in your own building, gaining some glares from your neighbors. he ended up coming over with a home cooked meal of his own.

another time, you tried to give him a nice shoulder massage, but you ended up pressing deeply into a sore spot in his shoulder blade that had him jolting away from you. he tried to assure you he was fine, but you saw the way his face would shift in discomfort whenever he moved his arm.

you tried rolling some joints for jaemin, surprising him when he’d come back with your somewhat (?) okay rolling skills, but your joints tended to be a little too loose, filling his apartment with smoke way too quickly and only lasting about 2 puffs each before they were too burnt to continue.

jaemin would always pull his perfectly tight rolls out once yours were finished with a sweet smile you could never say no to.

you tried your best to use newfound weed knowledge to keep up with his weed spiels, but it never lasts long before he’s asking you about other things.

nothing seems to be clicking.

another weekly visit flies by, and you kiss him goodbye as you leave to head to your shift from his place. you won’t see him for another week, and you sigh as you think of the week without him and your failed attempts.

you’ll just have to leave things the way they are for now, not that you’ll stop trying to show your love in different ways.

on jaemin’s side, something feels off.

he always knows when there’s something wrong with you, and he’s felt this since you claimed it was just the fatigue of work.

you’re his favorite person, and he knows that’s not all. just because he doesn’t get to see you all the time anymore doesn’t mean he won’t still notice the smallest details about you.

you’ve declined his calls a few times recently. that’s not really an issue, you have your own life, but he can’t help but notice it’s a lot more often than usual. he just wants to hear your voice, but maybe he’s just a little sensitive since he’s missing you. he’s been a bit stressed with everything and just the sound of your voice calms him.

you’ve also seemed to be texting someone a lot, letting out quiet, yet noticeable to him, sighs, as if you’re unhappy about whatever topic is at hand.

he remembers you told him your best friend was going through some shit with this guy she’s talking to, apparently also a plug, but who’s super bad with emotions. that could never be jaemin, but maybe you’re helping her with that—you’re so kind and empathetic, after all.

he thinks it’s touching when you try to roll for him, too, though he’s confused about the sudden interest. your blunts are a bit misshapen, but just as cute as you. you’ve been a bit more curious about his business, and he doesn’t mind when the conversation turns that way, always happy to explain.

you talk about some things he’s never explained, though. or maybe he did, but was just too high at the time to remember.

whatever, he’d rather hear about what’s going on with you anyways.

you’ve been a bit touchier with him, too, not that he minds in the slightest. he loves when you’re clingy with him. in fact, he wishes you could cling to him 24/7. you’re so cute when you try to give him massages, even if you are a little clumsy with it.

you’ve been improving , but you don’t need to do that for him. you could sit next to him (or on him, preferably) and he’s already more than content.

he pushes down an ache in his chest at the thought of not seeing you for a week, but his schedule is so unpredictable nowadays, he doesn’t want to burden you into conforming to his time when he doesn’t even know what time he has.

there’s no one jaemin thinks about more than you. you’ve helped him experience so many different emotions, good and bad, and even through the bad you’ve always navigated them together.

he never knew he could love someone as much as he loves you, never knew he could be jealous or anxious, yet at so much peace when you reassure him he’s the only one for you.

he’s done really well pushing out the negative thoughts. you’ll tell him what’s wrong in time, you always do. he just has to wait patiently.

a buzzing on the counter alerts him, and when he goes to grab his phone, he’s confused.

it isn’t his phone, it’s yours, and there’s a text from someone he thought he made peace with a long time ago.

lee donghyuck, 3:18pm:

i’m probably gonna come tomorrow on my lunch break, but please go easy on me this time. my body still hurts </3

he grabs his car keys.

“have you seen my phone?” you ask your coworker, sungchan, but the tall man just shakes his head.

“i haven’t seen you on it since you started your shift,” he responds, shrugging.

you’re checking around the front counter for your phone, not knowing where it possibly could have gone, when the bell at the front door chimes to let you know there’s a customer.

you look up to welcome them, but you’re surprised to see your boyfriend swiftly striding up to the front. he’s smiling at you sweetly, but something’s off.

there’s an underlying tension you don’t recognize.

he holds your phone out to you, and you gasp, accepting it gratefully. “oh! sorry, i didn’t realize i left it there. thank you, jaem.”

he nods, but his expression is still tense.

it makes your stomach sink.

was he upset that he had to bring your phone over? you know your jaemin wouldn’t get mad over something like this, but maybe he’s stressed. maybe there was something important today, and having to bring your phone was another stress added.

he notices your face fall, and it makes his chest ache. “it’s okay, can you come over after your shift, actually? i think we need to talk,” he states as calmly as possible, putting up what he thinks is his normal self.

he doesn’t realize you know him just as much as he knows you, and that this jaemin is not his normal self. this, and that saying “we need to talk” almost always means something bad, at least in your experience.

while you normally would say yes right away, his invitation fills you with anxiety.

“um.. sure, okay,” you respond after a beat that jaemin does not miss.

he feels his heart drop.

he knows you don’t have plans tonight, you told him before you left.

when have you ever not jumped at the invitation to come over, especially now that you don’t see each other all time time? he knows that you just left, but now he wonders if you’ve gotten used to your time without him. if you prefer it.

he knows he could never get used to time without you.

he bids you goodbye and heads home to figure out what needs to be sent out today, but can’t focus. he feels hollow.

you’ve been through a lot together, and he genuinely feels like he’s always come out a better person and your relationship has only grown stronger.

but what is happening?

he’d come to the cafe driven by a burning fire and need to confront you about the text, but as soon as he saw you, it all melted away into an anxious simmer. as much as he still is internally freaking out about the text he saw, he just can’t bring himself to think badly of you.

there has to be a reason. he’s more concerned that there’s something he might’ve done.

the two of you talk about your feelings, and that’s what you’ll do.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping. he’s never really felt unsure about himself, but when it comes to you, he doesn’t always know if he’s doing the right thing.

all jaemin knows is that he loves you. he trusts you.

the rest of your shift actually flies by faster than you hoped it would, and you stay a little longer to clean the kitchen before heading over to jaemin’s.

you find yourself at his door in no time, the weight of his spare key in your hand and the world on your shoulders. you stand there for a while, dread circling in your stomach.

what does jaemin want to talk about? it must be super serious given his demeanor earlier.

you’ve been working so hard to try and express your affections to him, but now you’re terrified that it had the opposite effect. you don’t even want to think of the possibility of him wanting to break u—

“angel?”

his voice breaks you from your thoughts, the apartment door now open with your boyfriend standing in front of you. “are you coming in?”

the shock of him opening the door before you could has you short-circuiting, and you just nod and file in, walking down the hall with jaemin trailing behind you.

his mind is also in disarray.

he could hear you coming as you walked down the hallway, the rhythm of your footsteps and the jingling of your keys being unmistakable. he waited at the door, ready to greet you as always, but you stayed out there.

you have his key, you have him to open the door, so why weren’t you coming in? what was making you hesitate? it’s taking everything in him not to think of the worst.

the two of you are uncharacteristically silent as you stand in the living room, the space between you far too wide and cold. you two stare at each other for a few seconds, expressions stiff. your words get jumbled as you both break at once.

“is everything okay, jaem?”

“please don’t break up with me.”

your eyes widen as you take in what he just said, and his widen, too, as if he can’t believe he just said that. you’re completely caught off guard, to say the least.

“break up with you? jaemin, why the hell would you think i want to break up?” you ask exasperatedly. this is the complete opposite of what you wanted to happen.

“i saw your text…” he replies, a sad veil over his face, his eyes… watering?

“text..?” you quickly open your phone, checking your latest messages, and there you see 2 missed texts from haechan.

lee donghyuck, 3:18pm:

i’m probably gonna come tomorrow on my lunch break, but please go easy on me this time. my body still hurts </3

lee donghyuck, 7:21pm:

actually, im not coming. u should just practice on your man and maybe talk to him while you’re at it :p

oh god. fucking haechan.

of course that first message very clearly gives the wrong idea. you direct your attention back to jaemin to explain, but he’s already closed the distance between you two.

he takes your phone, placing it down before holding both your hands in his.

“you know what? it’s okay. i-i can pretend this didn’t happen, just promise me you’ll stop seeing him. i can’t guarantee i won’t do anything to him, and all our friends will probably join me, but please, please don’t bre—”

“jaemin!” you cut off his rambling, freeing your hands to place them over his cheeks, pulling his face to you. “i’m not breaking up with you, and nothing’s happening with haechan, i swear.”

he seems to be relieved, just slightly, but he leans into your touch, his eyes still holding so much sadness. “but what about the text? and you keep declining my calls, texting someone so seriously…”

you sigh. this whole thing has backfired.

“let me explain.”

the two of you sit on the couch as you detail all your efforts of the past month or so, and jaemin has at least one hand on you the entire time, his nervous energy dissipating with each revelation about his worries.

“you’ve been doing all that for me?” he asks, lips set in a pout. “why? you know you don’t have to do anything extra, i love you the way you are.”

you intertwine your hand with his, playing with his fingers.

“jaemin, you’re perfect. you have a growing business with tons of people who see that, too. things have been changing, but you still do so much for me, for us. i’ve been questioning if i was adding anything to your life, if i could do anything for you..” you see his jaw tense slightly at that confession, but you continue.

“everyone wants you, but know i want you the most—i need you. i can’t always be with you to show you my feelings, so i wanted to make sure you know i love you the most—i was just trying to figure out how.”

jaemin feels like his heart is going to explode. he immediately gathers you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. “you did all of that because you love me?”

“yeah, you make me so happy, i want you to be happy, too,” you reply as best you can in his strong hold. “i know it’s only been two years, but i really can’t imagine my life without you.”

he pulls back from you, gliding his hands down your arms to hold your hands again. he presses them to his lips. “you don’t know how happy that makes me, angel, really.”

“really?”

“of course, is it okay if i speak now?” you nod, attentive to what he has to say.

“one, trying new things is always great. but if it’s to make me happy, doing all of that with me instead of for me would make me even happier,” he insists in a lightly scolding voice.

“i’d love to cook with you and you can always ask me for weed information. anything—even if you already asked a million times.”

his eyes turn a little darker. “but you’ve been practicing massages on haechan?”

you nod—you should’ve known that he might not react well to that, but to be fair, you didn’t think he would find out, especially when distracted by what would’ve been your euphorically stress-relieving master massages.

“well, practice on me. no need to have these pretty hands on any other man, yeah?”

he closes his eyes and shakes his head, as if trying to erase the image from his head. “the thought of it makes me sick.. and remember what we talked about when it comes to being alone with haechan?”

“renjun was there, too,” you reply weakly.

“i’m gonna pretend it was just renjun, then,” he smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. you agree nonetheless.

“two, there’s no way you don’t know how much you add to my life, baby…” his expression softens.

“you are my life, angel—i’ve never wanted to be anything more than i’ve wanted to be yours. even with the business and everything.. i wouldn’t have ever had the courage to quit my job and do this plug thingfull time if not for you supporting me every step of the way.”

you feel like you could cry, but you hold it together as you let jaemin affirm you.

“trust me, pretty, if you want me to be happy, then just let me make you happy,” his lips pull into the smile—his real smile— that you fell in love with. “nothing gives me more joy than that.”

you lean into to kiss him, almost in tears, but you frown as he pulls back, dodging your lips.

“wait, one last thing, if you kiss me now i don’t think i can stop,” he quickly explains, clutching his chest dramatically. you laugh, but he takes on a more serious tone, his eyes filled with warmth and resolution.

“i hope you know being separated from you is just as hard for me… i don’t want to treat you like you have to be at my beck and call, catering to a schedule i don’t even know most of the time.”

you’re about to tell him you don’t mind when he drops shocking news.

“so i’ve decided i’m going to move.”

“huh?”

“and i’d love it if you’d move in with me.”

your jaw drops.

you were already confused at what moving had to do with this, but did he really just ask you to move in with him?

you search for any sign that he’s joking, but he’s 100% serious.

“wait—really?”

“yeah, i’ve actually been wanting to get a bigger place now that i can afford it, but i definitely took it more seriously once you told me how stressful work has gotten.”

your heart lurches. he’s been thinking of this all this time?

“trust me, angel, you can do whatever you want, but just know i’ll take care of you.”

his smile falters a bit as you pause in your response, second guessing his hasty invite. maybe he should’ve waited a bit. “you don’t have to say yes, i just tho—”

“—no!” you interrupt him.

“jaem, i’d love to… if you’ll have me.”

his smile stretches wide across his face, his eyes lighting up in pure delight. he pulls you towards him, finally closing the distance between you, and your lips gravitate together like magnets.

you pull back briefly, and he chases you, but you put a hand on his chest. “i’m still going to work though.”

he laughs, bringing his face back to yours, stopping short an inch from your lips with his own pulled into a sweet smile. “whatever you want, baby.”

with that, he closes the distance once more, melding his lips with yours, warm and soft. you could never get tired of this feeling.

while you’re basking in the intimate moment, jaemin deepens the kiss, the warm feeling quickly turning hotter. your lips part slightly to allow him access, and he hums as he explores your mouth with both practiced ease and a new excitement.

his hands move south, trailing down your waist to your hips. his fingers slip under your shirt, squeezing at the flesh on your waist.

when you separate, you see a look in his deep brown eyes you know all too well.

“you know… maybe there’s one way you could make me happy.”

you know exactly what he wants—in fact, you want it even more.

it’s been a while since you properly slept together, and now that you’re in the right mind, you’re definitely in the right mood.

“wanna do something for nana, angel?” he purrs, voice dropping an octave. he knows you get weak when he uses that voice.

“yeah-” you swallow. “anything, baby.”

he pats his lap, and you’re sliding to your knees.

jaemin is a giver—that you’ve known since the first time he gave you some edibles on the house. this goes for the bedroom as well, obviously, with him loving you as a pillow princess and knowing how to treat you right.

but he loves the look of you taking him in with that sweet mouth of yours, and you know sometimes, especially after a tough day, he just wants to sit back and guide you to do all the work on him, to watch how you fall apart from a different angle.

jaemin scoots forward slightly as you palm at the tent in his sweats. he groans as you make contact, clearly just as pent up as you are.

you tuck your fingers into his waistband, pulling slightly as he lifts his hips, allowing his hardening cock to spring free. you drool at the sight, pretty as always.

he grabs one of your hands, bringing up to his mouth, grinning as he spits into it. “be good for me, baby.. take what’s yours.”

his words send shockwaves through you, and immediately you’re springing into action, pumping his cock a few times using his spit to glide smoothly. it stands tall and angry, and all you want in that moment is to taste.

you bring your lips down, suckling at his tip, eyes trained on his as he lets out strangled gasps. it tastes like skin and salt and him, and you want more. taking the whole head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around, just to see the way his eyebrows furrow and eyelashes flutter.

“you’re so fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he groans, and you reply by taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as your hand pumps at the parts of him your mouth can’t quite take.

“my beautiful girl with a- fuck—beautiful mouth, taking me so well.” the praise has you clenching around nothing. “h-how’d you get so good at that, hm? god, i’m so fucking lucky, baby,” he coos.

you love knowing the effect you have on him, your eyes darting up to see him with his lip between his teeth, pupils blown out. you watch as his built chest heaves, the veins in his neck strained against his skin as you continue to bob your head up and down.

the sigh is addicting, and for a second you think you could do this forever even with your stiffening jaw, but jaemin is a giver, and he can’t help but want you to feel even luckier.

he grips the back of your hair to ease you off of him, and you whine in confusion. he pulls you up to your feet and slots you, still standing, by the waist between his legs.

his fingers slip under your shirt, dancing along your soft skin, his eyes racking down your form as he his licks his lips. “we can do that another time, i just need to be in you when i cum tonight, okay?”

he hooks a hand around the back of your thigh, fingers dancing along the inner seam of your pants, dangerously close to the spot between your legs that aches more than ever for his touch.

he moves his hand slowly up your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. his other hand trails down from your waist into the waistbands of your pants and underwear.

“let me take these off of you, yeah?” you’re already pulling your shirt over your head as he shimmies your pants off of you, pulling his down to drop at his ankles as well.

he grabs the backs of your thighs, pulling you to straddle him. “take your seat, baby.”

and take your seat you do, thighs spread over him as his hands explore the expanse of your skin, his touch feverish yet so trained—he knows your body like the back of his hand, but he could never get enough.

he puts one hand on your neck, trailing it down your chest and stomach until it’s right on your core. he dips his fingers between your folds, humming delightedly as he spreads your wetness around.

you gasp as he circles your clit, your hands gripping on to his shoulders. “so wet just from sucking me off? and just one touch to have you falling apart?” your head falls, giving him perfect access to your shoulder, where he runs his lips across, sucking marks into the soft skin.

“of course you are, you’re my perfect girl after all..” he breathes into your skin, two fingers dipping into your entrance without warning. you moan out at the sensation, fingers digging into his shoulders as he starts to thrust them in and out of you, his palm rubbing at your clit with every motion.

your hips move against his hand, letting his fingers guide your whole body, shivering as you plant you wrap your arms around him and plant your head into his shoulders. he adds another finger, stretching you out for him, and you bite down on his shoulder to ground yourself.

he hisses at the feeling of your teeth on his skin, and you move your head to repeat this on another sliver of skin just to hear it again.

“come on,” he growls, feeling the way you clench on him.

you move your head back to look at him, gasping and heaving under the magic of his fingers. you know you’re close. “j-jaem, wanna cum with you inside—please.”

his lips turn into a pout before he kisses you roughly, his hand not stopping. he pulls back just enough to breathe onto your lips. “you’ll get that too, now give this one to me.”

he angles his fingers just right, his fingers pistoning in and out of you like crazy, palm still digging at your clit. the wet sounds reverberate around the room along with your cries.

the pressure builds and builds until he has you falling apart with a shriek, your thighs trembling as he holds you with a steady arm around you. your head is down as you catch your breath, and you watch as he removes his fingers from you, glistening with your arousal.

you feel empty at the loss, but as you watch him use your arousal to coat his raging member, pumping up and down his cock to get every last bit on there, you’re filled with an even bigger urge to make him happy.

“i want it jaem—let me—”

“do it, baby,” he pants, ready to take what you’re giving him.

with one hand anchoring yourself on his shoulder, you shift up slightly, guiding his tip to your waiting entrance. he helps you, letting his tip catch onto your entrance before helping you lower yourself.

with each inch, you whine at the delicious stretch, breathing in and out until you’ve completely sheathed him. your cunt clenches around him, pulsing in anticipation.

“you can do it, angel, i’m right here for you.” his encouragement has you lifting yourself up on shaky thighs, bringing yourself down on him with a slapping noise. the two of you moan like a chorus as you go again, and again, until you’re bouncing on him, moving your hips without restraint.

his hands grip the back of your ass to help guide you, and god, seeing how good you can make jaemin feel is just as good from this angle as from below.

his eyebrows are knit together, his lips are swollen and slick with spit, and his eyes roll back in pleasure when they aren’t shooting hearts at you.

your thighs burn, and you know you’ll be so sore tomorrow, but it’s all so worth it when you can see him like this.

“love when you do this, angel,” he groans, feeling it from the top of his head to his toes. “love when you move like you’re claiming me, l-like you’re trying to say i’m yours.”

your thighs falter just a bit, and jaemin knows you well enough to know when it’s his time. he readjusts his grip on you, putting his mouth to your ear. “because i am yours.”

with a tight grip, he stops you from moving, letting you hover with his tip tucked inside. he plants his feet into the ground, his breath hot against your skin.

“and you’re mine.”

the way he snaps his hips into yours almost knocks the breath out of you, and you hold onto him for dear life, crying out at the onslaught of pleasure as he slams into you again and again.

your lips reattach themselves to his shoulders, his neck, just under his chin—anywhere you can find to leave your mark on him.

“f-fuck, i’m close,” he grunts, his thrusts still not faltering. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up, yeah?”

you know his grip is going to leave bruises on your thighs, and you want that. you want a reminder of him on you. in you.

“yes, inside, jaemin, fuck. please—inside,” you cry out, not fully making sense and still unable to take anything but what he’s giving you with the way he uses his strength on you.

his smiles, and you almost feel hypnotized.

“yeah? you want me to fill you up? keep my cum in you?” you can feel yourself skydiving into your second orgasm of the night at his words.

“fuck, it’s perfect—you’re perfect.” his eyes gloss over. “my pretty girl in my house with my cum inside. maybe put a baby or two in you, let you have all of me.”

realistically, you’re on the pill and the chances are low, but the thought has you seeing white. the thought of living with jaemin, waking up and going to sleep with him, of him filling you up, and everyone knowing that the spot next to him is no one’s but yours.

it has you hurling over the edge, crying and gasping as he still drives into you through your orgasm, chasing his own. your legs are numb, your cunt is spent, and all you can manage are cries of jaemin’s name and yes.

his hips snap up a few more times before stuttering, and he pushes himself up into you one last time, stilling as he spills into you, his cum leaking down around the base of his cock.

he lowers both of you, and you feel yourself go boneless against him, absolutely exhausted. the two of you just sit like that for a bit, his hand rubbing up and down your back as you cling to him like a koala.

“never want you thinking how i feel about you will ever change, okay?” he says, voice soft yet full of resolution.

“okay, jaemin,” you breathe into his hair. “i love you.”

“and i love you.”

you don’t know how much time passes, simply basking in the feeling of his skin on yours, his softening member sitting comfortably in you.

somewhere along the way he pulls out and jaemin cleans the both of you up, wrapping you in his clothes before snuggling back into the couch. marks in blossoming red and purple tones scatter his neck and shoulders, and you’re sure yours look the same way.

you watch with lazy eyes as he rolls a perfectly tight little joint, just enough for a few hits each, lighting it before holding it to your lips to take a drag. he takes a hit, too, letting you decompress before you both start talking again.

you talk about the furniture you’ll have at your new place, the way you’ll decorate the walls, the absolute must-have patio for smoking, the house warming party you’ll have with dishes cooked by the two of you.

any lingering heaviness disappears along with the smoke around you.

two and a half years is not as long as it has felt. it’s just a small fraction of how long the average human life is, but it’s also only a fraction of the future you’re building with jaemin.

as much as they seem to be, you know things won’t always be perfect, but with your perfect boy beside you, you know everything will be okay.

end.

a/n: HELLOOOO if you've been around since strawberry cough was first posted you are a real one... i am aware my writing style has definitely developed a lot since writing the first two parts, but i hope my love for my first plug!jaem shows :') the idea of him was what inspired this blog in the first place so it was nice to write another not so serious but kind of serious fluffy smutty 3rd part.

i am really not sure if i'll be writing more for this universe in particular, at least jaemin-centric, but hopefully will have other stoner/plug content for him + other members!!! also see if u can see a little cameo of one of my other plug!members... ;)

feedback and shares are ALWAYS appreciated and really encourage me to keep writing (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ

-coco ♡

[islesnap]

mdni

style | z.cl

“i heard…that you been out and about with some other girl”

💿now playing: style by taylor swift

❯ summary: Midnight. Lipstick. Tight skirt. You swore you were done with Chenle. But then he drove you home, looked way too good in your kitchen, and said all the right things. He might always leave. But he always comes back. Because you always let him.

❯ pairings: idol!chenle x fem!reader

❯ genre: co-workers with benefits, smut

❯ words: 4.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, slight jealousy, arguing, angst, mentions of sneaking around, commitment issues, oral sex, fingering, rough blow job, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, dom!chenle, swearing, ambiguous ending, reader uses she/her pronouns, basically just a toxic situationship and pure filth for 4k words.

an: y’all can thank @bbina for triggering this idea in my head. chenle being style coded has made me go insane 😛

You told yourself you wouldn’t do this again.

And yet here you are, sitting in the passenger seat of Chenle’s car, completely silent and still, whilst his jaw ticks and one hand strangles the steering wheel. 

If it were any other man, you’d be concerned about how often his eyes leave the road. But this is Chenle. Your Chenle, with wild, dark eyes that seem to dart everywhere but forward—flicking to your legs, lingering shamelessly on the exposed sliver of thigh peeking out from that tight little skirt you decided to wear. The same skirt he swears is taunting him.

Him, and every other fucker in that room tonight.

He had no choice but to get you out of that damn afterparty and into his car. Straight home. He still remembered the route—of course he did.

Honestly, part of him expected you to tell him to get fucked. He would’ve deserved it. Because truthfully, Chenle had no right offering to drive you home. No right to act territorial or interject your conversations with other men. He never did.

Not when he was the one who could never quite figure out what he wanted.

Still, deep down, you hoped it was you. A part of you still does. Because you're just so stupidly drawn to him.

That’s why you don’t say a word when he pulls into your driveway. That’s why you don’t stop him when he kills the engine, steps out, and follows you inside like it’s second nature.

You know damn well you should tell him to leave.

Especially when you already know the consequences of letting him—this man—walk through your door, shrug off his jacket like it still belongs here, and drape it over the back of your chairs like he never left. You know the routine. The toxic, repetitive cycle. The inevitable crash.

You know exactly where it leads.

Chenle tosses his keys onto your kitchen counter without bothering to turn on the light. He doesn’t need to—he knows your place just like he knows your body. Thoroughly. 

He leans back against the marble counter, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you kick off your heels and flick the switch. For a split second, in the soft glow of the kitchen light, it almost looks domestic.

If you were any other couple, it might’ve been.

But you weren’t any other couple.

Because you were you, and Chenle was Chenle—unconventional, uncommitted, undefined. Definitely not a couple. Just three long years of messy arguing, sneaking around, and dirty sex.

“You looked friendly with Sungchan tonight,” he mutters finally, like it’s nothing more than an observation. But the bitterness in his voice bleeds through every word.

You glance at him over your shoulder, folding your arms to mirror his stance. You can’t believe him right now.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting," he shrugs nonchalantly, but his jaw still ticks. “I just thought the two of you looked…cosy, is all.”

“Cosy?” you repeat, brow arching. “Are you seriously jealous right now?”

He scoffs, pushing off the counter. He rakes a hand through his slicked back hair, leaving it all messy.

“I’m not jealous. I just didn’t realise the two of you were that close.”

“That’s because you don’t know the meaning of close, Chenle.”

His jaw tightens whilst you rant. 

“Seriously, I haven’t heard a fucking peep from you in months,” you quip, stroming towards him. “No call. No text. Nothing. And now you wanna walk through my door like it’s yours, drop your shit on my counter, and act territorial about who I talk to at a work party?”

“I’m not acting terr—”

“Yes, you are,” you cut in. “You always do this. You disappear for weeks, then show up acting like you have some kind of claim to me. You don’t.”

He flinches. Just barely. But you see it. And still, you press on, because it’s the only way to survive conversations like this with him. 

“You don’t get to act like this,” you shout. “Not when you’ve been out and about with some other girl on your arm.”

“Don’t turn this around on me,” he grits out. “You think it didn’t fuck with my head, seeing you smile like that at him? He’s my friend, Y/N, and it looked like—it looked like you wanted him.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t soften. “And if I did?”

“Watch it,” he growls. 

You shake your head, jaw clenched. “No! I’m done doing this with you. I’m sick of waking up to every damn gossip site and fan account showing pictures of you with other girls!”

His eyes darken.

Then, he's crossing the room and closing the distance between you two in quick, hasty strides. You don’t move. You should. But you don’t. Because some reckless, masochistic part of you wants this. Enjoys it.

You like it when he’s angry. Because at least then, you know he cares.

His hand slides up, fingers wrapping around the side of your neck—firm enough to steal your breath, soft enough to make you remember exactly who he is and who he always will be to you.

“You’re not done with me, baby,” he says, voice gravelly. “You’ll never be done with me.”

Your heart thumps heavily in your chest. Warmth pulsing low in your belly, spreading outward in a burning ripple that leaves goosebumps along your forearms. 

You hate the effect he has on you—hate how easily he can crack you with nothing more than a look, a brush of his fingers, the goddamn rough scrape of his voice. But what you hate most is how it keeps pulling you back. Every time. No matter how often you promise yourself you won’t.

His thumb drags slow strokes along your jaw, studying and possessive. 

“What you’ve heard and seen is true,” he continues, searching your face. “I’ve been out, but I swear, none of them meant shit. None of them stuck. Because every damn night, I come back to the same thought.”

You swallow hard. “What thought?”

He leans in, breath hot against your ear, and your knees almost buckle.

“You,” he exhales. “What you do to me. What we do to each other,” he says. “You haunt me, Y/N. You get in my fucking head and you stay there. Even when I know I need to let you go.”

His forehead presses to yours, and you’re met with eyes that burn. Eyes that are so raw and pleading. 

“You think I don’t hate this too?” he whispers. “I hate how I ruin everything the second it starts to feel real…but baby, I swear to God, no one—not a single person—makes me feel the way you do.”

His grip softens, fingers sliding down your neck to your collarbone, then teasingly tracing the hem of your shirt over your lower abdomen.

You suck in a breath at his cold fingertips, voice cracking. “Then why do you keep leaving?”

“I don’t know,” his eyes screw shut as he breathes. “Maybe because wanting you this much scares the shit out of me.”

God, you hate that too.

Hate the way your chest aches at his voice when it drops so low. Hate the fact that you’re always his secret. His weakness. His maybe. His fear. 

He can parade around with other girls, laugh with them, be seen with them. Smile for the cameras and let them touch his arm, lean into him. He can be theirs in the way that matters—publicly.

But you?

You’re the one he hides. The one he ghosts and crawls back to. The one he craves in the quiet. Behind closed doors. Always behind closed doors.

Because you’re staff. 

And this is what happens when you cross the line and start sleeping with idols.

Still, you stare up at him, furious with how good he looks tonight. Black hair a little messy, pushed out of place by his own frustrated fingers. White t-shirt clinging to the ridges of his torso like it was stitched onto his skin. Your eyes wander before you can stop them, and you curse yourself for it—because he notices.

His own eyes dip to your mouth, that familiar lustful haze clouding his features. It’s hot. The kind if look that makes you wet your lips without thinking. 

He follows the movement. Tracks it like instinct.

Then his hand lifts, almost unconsciously, and his thumb drags a featherlight line across your bottom lip. You let him. You always do. You always will.  Because this has always been his thing.

He stares at his thumb now, at the smear of lipstick staining the pad—a deep, bruised red. The classic kind. The one you know he likes. The only reason you still wear it, really. 

His throat bobs as he brings the thumb to his mouth and wipes it along the plump flesh.

He doesn’t lick. Doesn’t taste. Just wipes. Lets it brand him.

“You still wear this shade,” he murmurs. It’s not a question—just a statement, the memory of him buying it for your first birthday together flashing vividly in his mind.

“You liked it.” 

“No,” his eyes flick to yours. “I loved it.”

A beat passes.

“I hate this, Chenle,” you breathe.

“I know,” he says, gaze dropping to your mouth again. His thumb brushes your lip once more, slower this time. “I hate it too.”

Maybe he means it. Maybe he really does this time. But it doesn’t matter. Not now. Not when he’s looking at you like that—like you’re the last good thing he’s ever touched.

“I hate when you do this,” you continue, even as your fingers fist into the hem of his shirt.

“I know.”

“No.” You shake your head, pressing your forehead to his chest. Your voice breaks a little. “You don’t get to show up like this. All hot and brooding and act like you’re—”

“Yours?” he cuts in gently, lifting your chin, just enough to meet your eyes. “I don’t get to show up here all hot and brooding and act like I’m yours, Y/N?” He asks. “But I did. Because I am.”

You sigh. 

“You don’t mean that,” you say, barely audible.

“I do,” he says, and his voice—God, his voice—it’s so damn raw. “I do, baby.”

You see it flicker.

Right there, behind his eyes. That look that never lies or fades. That want. That need. That ache. And your brain, the traitorous thing that it is, clings to it like a lifeline. Because that flicker means he still wants you. Means he always has.

No matter how long he disappears. No matter how many nights you cry yourself to sleep. No matter how many months pass with nothing but radio silence and reruns of memories you swore you’d forget. No matter the girls, the headlines, the cruel, painful game of pretending he’s not your favourite mistake—you always come back.

He exhales a shaky sigh, brushing his hand against your cheek. And you lean into it. Into him. Into the quiet, stupid comfort that still lives in his touch.

Because the thing about Chenle (the thing that wrecks you) is that he never touches you like it’s an accident. He knows your skin. He remembers exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand slips to the hem of your skirt, fingers dragging lightly along your thigh. Not to push. Not yet. Just to remind you that he knows.

And then, with a soft breath, he whispers, “You and me, baby… we just fit. We’re perfect for each other.”

“Perfect?” you echo on a scoff. “Chenle, we’re a fucking disaster.”

His fingers press just a little more into your waist as he leans in, forehead resting gently against yours again.

“I don’t care,” he says. “This is how we work. You know it is.”

And goddamn it, you do.

This push and pull. This mess of a relationship. This history that keeps bleeding into the present. It’s yours. All of it.

The midnights. The 3 a.m. fights and 4 a.m. kisses. The long drives. The missed calls and texts. The way he disappears for weeks—only to show up again, looking at you like you’re perfect, like you’re sin, like you’re all his.

You close your eyes, forehead tilting into his hand as his thumb brushes along your cheekbone. He’s breathing you in harder than he needs air. 

“I don’t know how to let you go,” he admits, brokenly.

Your heart aches, splits right down the middle, but you don’t move. You never do. Because deep down, you don’t know how to let him go either. 

“But we don’t make sense,” you whisper, words trembling. “Not to anyone.”

Chenle shakes his head, lips brushing the edge of your jaw. “We don’t have to. You make sense to me. I get you, baby. I always have. No one else needs to.”

Then he kisses you.

And it’s not gentle. It’s not soft or sweet or anything close to safe. It’s a collision—raw and explosive and possessive. A kiss that ruins, devours, and breathes life into the parts of you he’s broken. Everything he needs to say to you pours into that simple press of his mouth against yours—like an apology. He knows you deserve one.

It feels like drowning and crashing down. But still, you’re willing to hold him in your bare hands.

Because even if you don’t necessarily make sense… you look right together. You feel like fate. And for now, that’s enough. All you can think about is how good it feels to burn—and how right it feels to fall.

Your hands twist in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer because you need to feel the heat radiating from his skin, need to know that he’s here and equally burning for you too.

Without breaking the kiss, Chenle’s fingers hook under the hem of your skirt, dragging it down lower until it slips off completely, pooling at your ankles. You don’t feel embarrassed standing in front of him wearing your panties anymore. You no longer tense under his stare or shiver at his fingers teasing the tender skin just above the waistband. 

His eyes flare, and without another second’s hesitation, he flips you around, caging you against the counter he was leaning on. He pauses for a moment, watching you, but when he sees you bite down on your lip and nod once, it’s enough for him to drop his voice. 

“Get your ass on that counter, baby,” he commands lowly, hooking you under the arms and helping you up. “And open these pretty legs.”

He doesn’t give you a second to comply, eagerly prying your legs apart himself before dropping to his knees, eyes clouded and lip caught between his teeth. His fingers hook into the lace of your underwear, a groan escaping him as he inches them down gradually.

His eyes stay locked on you, tracking every nervous flex of your stomach, every sharp inhale of breath.

Fucking beautiful. Fucking perfect, he thinks.

He leans in, mouth gliding along the inside of your trembling thigh, letting his breath ghost across your skin that’s already burning. His hands grip your knees, firm, keeping you spread open for him, exposed under the flickering kitchen light.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he whispers.

Then his lips brush closer. Close enough for his mouth to find your puffy and aching clit. And he sucks. Hot. Slow. Languid. Worshipful sucks.

Your head tips back with a whimper, hands scrambling behind you for balance against the counter’s edge. He doesn’t rush. He savours, tastes, tongue mapping every sensitive inch, locating every spot he knows that makes you squirm, makes you pathetic for him.

Each sound you make has him groaning against you, his fingers digging hard into the plush of your thighs, anchoring himself as he drowns in you.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” Chenle says, pulling back just enough to speak—lips slick with a mix of his spit and your arousal. “Dripping, baby. You like this? Like letting me bury my face in this tight little pussy?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer—not really—your heavy eyes say everything he needs to get his tongue on you again. Rougher now, harder, dragging filthy little moans out of you that ring around the kitchen. He eats like he owns you—like he’s starving for you and only you.

Your hips twitch, legs wobbling and borderline threatening to close, but he growls low in his throat, fingers pressing into your thighs as he keeps you wide open.

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” he groans against you. “You take it. Just like that. Let me make this cunt all nice and messy.”

You sob, a high, needy sound, head thrown back as pleasure builds fast and brutal.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Ride my face, baby. Use me. You taste so good—fuck—I could eat this sweet pussy all fucking night if you’d let me,” he grits out, lips brushing your clit with every word.

He slides two fingers inside you then, without warning, curls them deliciously just to watch the way you shudder. 

“God, listen to that. So fucking wet. Gonna cum all over my face, baby? You’ll let me taste it, won’t you?”

You can’t even answer. All you can do is shake, pant, fall apart while he keeps going, keeps sucking and licking and fucking his fingers—relentless, filthy, starved.

“Chenle—” you whimper, but it catches in your throat. 

You feel it now, the heat, the pressure coiling tight in your gut, the obscene wet sounds of him between your legs, eating your pussy shamelessly. 

“Come on, baby, give it to me,”  he rasps. “Be good. Cum for me. Let me have it. Right here on my fucking tongue.”

He carries on, nose pressed tight against your clit, moaning into you like the taste of you is driving him insane. You can’t breathe. Can’t think. Not when he talks like that. Not when he touches you like this.

“That’s it,” he whispers hoarsely. “I can feel it. This pretty cunt’s clenching around my tongue.”

You nod frantically, a broken sound ripping from your throat as your back arches, thighs jerk, and you moan out his name. He keeps licking you through every wave, holding you wide open and helpless, until you’re too spent to even twitch.

When your breathing begins to slow, he starts rising to his feet—pupils black, cock straining hard against his jeans.

“We’re not done, baby,” he mutters, dragging his thumb over your swollen, soaked lips. “Not even close.”

He leans over you, chest heaving, trapping you in with his arms on either side of your thighs. His mouth is swollen, glistening with your orgasm, and he drags his tongue across his bottom lip like he’s still hungry and relishing the taste of you. Then he tilts your chin up with two fingers.

“Want you to return the favour for me,” he demands, voice all raspy and low. “Like the good girl I know you are.”

Your stomach clenches at the praise, excitement pulsing between your legs as you nod. You slide off the counter, legs feeling a little like jelly, and Chenle steps back, giving you space. But the moment your knees hit the floor in front of him, something in him snaps—his jaw tightens, the vein in his neck flexing hard.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls, hand slipping into your hair—not pulling, not yet, just holding you there. “On your knees for me. God, you look so fucking pretty like this. All ruined and ready.”

You reach for the waistband of his jeans, hands trembling slightly as you undo them. He watches you the entire time, completely focused, completely in awe. 

Once he’s free—thick, hard, already leaking—he taps his cock against your lips.

“Open up,” he rasps. “Wanna see those pretty red lips wrapped around my cock.”

You part them without hesitation, tongue flicking out to taste him, and he lets out a sharp hiss, head dropping back for just a second.

“Jesus fuck—yes. Just like that. So damn good.”

You take more of him, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, tears welling in your eyes. He mosns from deep in his chest, both hands threading into your hair now, holding you steady to take him.

“Doing so fucking good for me,” he pants. “Taking me so deep. You love choking on my cock, don’t you?”

You hum around him, the vibrations pulling another harsh string of curses from his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—glassy eyes, drool dripping down your chin. So fucking eager to please me.”

His hips begin to move, rolling forward as he starts to fuck your mouth like he owns it. Every time your throat clenches around him, his grip on your hair tightens right back.

You whimper, and it only spurs him on to go deeper. One hand slides to your cheek, thumb brushing away the spit and tears there with a surprising gentleness, despite how hard he’s breathing.

“My messy, filthy, perfect girl,” he groans. “Keep looking up at me like that, baby. Shit—those eyes. Could cum just from this fucking view.”

He rocks into your mouth again—deep, greedy—pushing past your limit before pulling out to the tip. Only then does he let you catch your breath for a second… only to thrust back in deeper.

Eventually, a harsh hiss leaves him, his hands locking you in place as your mouth works him harder, your throat fluttering with every push forward. He’s close—too close for his liking—and he knows it. That coil tightening low in his stomach. 

“Fuck—no,” he growls suddenly, breath strained.

He pulls out abruptly, cock slick and glistening, flushed at the tip with a string of spit connecting you in one filthy, shining line before it breaks. You’re left panting, mouth swollen, eyes cloudy and wet with tears—but there’s no shame in it. Not with Chenle. There never is.

“Why’d you stop?” You blink up at him, all dazed and breathless. “I can take it. I want it.”

His jaw flexes. He knows you can—he’s seen you take it, again and again—but hearing you say it like that? With that much need? Holy fuck.

He cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he leans in to press his forehead against yours again. 

“Not like that,” he exhales. “Not wasting it down your throat, baby. Not when I need to be inside you.”

He nudges your legs apart again with his knee, pushing you gently back onto the counter. The cold surface shocks your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the intense look in his eyes—all focused, all fire, locked on the soaked mess between your legs.

His fingers trail between your thighs. “Look at you,” he breathes. “Could slide right in, no fucking problem.”

One finger sinks in with ease, and your back arches with a cry. He adds another, bending them just right, watching the way your body twitches at the sensation.

“Desperate little thing,” he chuckles, mouth grazing your jaw before biting lightly at the hinge.

“You haven’t heard a peep from me in months?” he mocks your earlier words, amused. “Bet you’ve still been thinking about this. About me. Every night though.”

You nod wildly, hips grinding down to chase his hand. He smiles darkly against your throat. 

“Yeah? Been touching yourself to the thought of my cock buried deep inside you?” His fingers press harder, deeper, stretching you open. “Tell me. Because I’ve only ever fisted my cock for one girl. One girl—you.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Fuck—yes. All the time. I only ever think of you too.”

His mouth slams onto yours, teeth biting and tongue hot, as he slowly pulls his fingers out, leaving you aching and empty.

“Then you’re gonna take it now,” he grits out, lining himself up with no warning. “All of it. Every inch. All of me.”

You whimper as he presses the tip against you, easing into your cunt with little resistance. You’re so wet, so ready—but the stretch of him, thicker than his fingers, triggers that tightening ache in a way that makes you spiral faster. He’s filling you, claiming you inch by inch, like he owns you.

Because right now, he does.

You think, maybe, he always has.

“Fuck, baby,” he lets out a strained moan, hips rocking forward in relentless thrusts. “You were made for this. For me.”

He’s deep now—buried to the hilt—each thrust making you clench and tremble. His rhythm quickens, hips snapping harder, pressing you back against the counter. The air thickens with sweat and breathless curses.

Then his hand finds your face—fingers curling around your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as he squishes them together, making your lips pout around soft moans.

“Look at this fucking mouth,” he grumbles, slowing just enough to admire you. Lipstick smeared, red and messy, your spit slicking your chin from earlier. “You never wear that colour for anyone else.”

It’s not a question. It’s a demand. A rule you already follow. You didn’t need him to say it, because you only ever wear it with him in mind. Only when there’s a chance you might see him.

You shake your head, eyes half-lidded, mouth still caught between his fingers. He knows the answer—but fuck, he wants to hear it.

“Say it,” he demands, thrusting deep and slow now, grinding against that sweet spot until your eyes roll back. “Tell me who you wear it for.”

“You,” you gasp, voice muffled by his grip. “Only you.”

He smirks, eyes dipping down to where he’s buried inside you, glistening with the proof of just how badly you’ve needed this. “Yeah, that’s right. All dressed up for me.”

Then he slams into you again—harder this time, relentless. The slap of skin echoes through the room, each thrust forcing filthy little sounds from your throat as your slick spills and drips down his length. Your lipstick is undoubtedly smeared across your cheek now, mouth pouty, chest heaving

“No matter how long it’s been,” he says more to himself than you, “I always end up right back here. With you. Fucking losing it over you.”

You’re shaking, right on the edge, and he can feel it—the way your pussy flutters around his cock, clinging to every thrust, so hot and tight. You don’t even have to say a word. Your body’s begging to cum. 

But he’s not letting you just yet.

“Tell me this doesn’t feel right,” he growls, snapping his hips forward as the counter creaks beneath you. “Tell me my cock doesn’t fucking fit like it was made for me.”

“It does,” you gasp, voice breaking. “Fuck—it always has, Chenle.”

He groans at that all guttural, and crashes his mouth to yours again. It’s less desperate now, more possessive, like he’s trying to seal the truth between your lips. Because you’ve both tried. Tried to forget. Tried to move on. Tried to tell yourselves your situation wasn’t healthy.

But this—you two—never really ended. It never could.

And when he drives into you one last time, burying himself to the limit as you shatter around him—slick and pulsing, your cunt squeezing him so perfectly—he groans and lets go, spilling his cum inside you with a shudder.

It’s filthy. It’s messy. It’s everything you swore you wouldn’t do again.

But some things don’t change.

Some things never go out of style.

Especially not him. 

[islesnap]

mdni

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ loud moaning mark

he’s already breathing hard when you slide your hand down. his moans start soft, but they build with every second, low, needy, unfiltered. he hides his face in your neck like that’ll muffle the sounds, but it doesn’t.

you hear everything. the way his voice trembles, the way he gasps when your thumb brushes the tip, the way he curses under his breath like he’s about to fall apart.

the moment your fingers wrap around him, he moans. no warning, no hesitation, just this guttural sound that escapes his throat like it’s been trapped there forever.

“fuck—”

his hips jerk up, needy, desperate, he’s been waiting all day just to feel you. he can’t stop the sounds that leave him, deep, raw moans that grow louder with every stroke, every squeeze. he’s loud, almost embarrassingly so, but you don’t tell him to quiet down.

“you feel so fucking good,” he breathes, head falling back, lips parted. “please— don’t stop—”

he’s losing it, moaning without shame, the kind of sounds that make your skin burn and your thighs press together. every breath is laced with your name.

“i love it when you touch me like this,” he gasps, eyes fluttering shut. “i swear— i can’t think— i just want you.”

you lean in, lips brushing his jaw.

“then let me have you,” you whisper.

and the moan he lets out at that, loud, broken, aching, makes your whole body shiver. he’s so close, so open, so undone for you. all you did was touch him, and he’s already giving you everything.

[islesnap]

mdni

don't smile

don't smile because it happened, baby, cry because it's over...

pairing: na jaemin x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut, college au, ex-lovers, emotional tension, unrequited love, toxic relationship.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, degradation, crying during sex, emotional manipulation, heartbreak, public sex (bathroom), mentions of cheating, swearing, heavy angst, possessiveness, jealousy, alcohol consumption.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 🔞

you shouldn’t have come.

you told yourself that five times already, standing in the hallway of the dream frat house, plastic cup sweating in your hand, trying not to look too long in his direction. but you couldn’t help it.

he was there. of course he was there.

jaemin always loved the attention, the parties, the validation.

you just didn’t expect him to have her in his arms.

minjeong.

the girl he used to talk about like a dream, back before he ever touched you. before he ever pressed you up against the backseat of his car, before he ever made you moan his name with your thighs shaking around his head.

and now she’s sitting next to him, giggling into his neck, wearing his jacket like it means something. he presses a kiss to her cheek and you swear the cup almost cracks in your hand.

“you okay?” someone asks you. it’s jisung, sweet and concerned, but you can’t answer. because no— you’re not okay.

jaemin never kissed you like that.

never touched you that softly.

never looked at you like you were worth showing off.

you were the girl he fucked when no one was looking. not the one he brought to the party.

and yet…

he still looks at you.

when her attention is elsewhere, sipping her drink or laughing with her friends, he glances over. his eyes find you in the crowd like a ghost that won’t stop haunting him. he smirks. like it’s funny.

like he knows you still want him.

and the worst part is—he’s right.

you last ten more minutes. just enough to pretend you tried. then you’re pushing past the people in the hallway, heading upstairs, into the nearest bathroom you can find. you lock the door, lean against it, chest heaving like you ran a marathon.

you hate him.

you hate yourself more.

a knock comes. not gentle. not curious. just… knowing.

“open the door.” that voice.

you’d know it anywhere.

“go fuck minjeong,” you snap, but you’re already unlocking the door.

he steps inside like he owns the place. like he owns you.

the door clicks shut behind him and he doesn't say a word. just looks at you with that same cocky smirk that used to make your stomach twist and your thighs clench.

you hate how much you missed it.

“you looked real pretty downstairs,” he finally says, voice low, thick with something darker than just lust. “all alone. all jealous. were you thinking about me while i kissed her?”

you swallow hard, backing into the bathroom counter.

“fuck off, jaemin” you breathe, even though your knees are already weak. “i’m not playing this game again.”

but he closes the distance in two strides, presses his body to yours like he never let it go.

“then why’d you unlock the door?”

your silence is all the answer he needs. his hands grab your hips, rough and impatient, lifting you onto the cold marble counter. your skirt rides up your thighs instantly and he doesn’t hesitate—he pushes them apart, stepping between them like he’s done it a hundred times.

“spread wider,” he murmurs against your neck, hot breath fanning over your skin. “let me see if you missed me.”

you do. fuck, you do.

his fingers slip under the hem of your panties and he groans when he feels how wet you are. slick, messy, all for him. you whimper as he runs two fingers through your folds, slow at first, then with purpose—rubbing circles over your clit like he never forgot what made you squirm.

“fucking soaked,” he growls, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “how long’s it been, baby? you touch yourself thinking about me?”

you nod, shame flooding your cheeks.

he grins. “good girl.”

his fingers dip inside you, stretching you open with ease, fucking into you slow and deep. your back arches off the mirror and your moan is loud, helpless.

“shhh,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. “don’t want anyone knowing how desperate you still are for me, huh?”

you shake your head, breathing ragged.

“then be quiet while i ruin you.”

he drops to his knees in front of you, tugging your panties off with one harsh yank. his tongue replaces his fingers before you can beg for it—licking a long, slow stripe up your slit before flicking over your clit, soft at first, then fast, relentless. your hands fly to his hair, tugging, trying to ground yourself, but it’s useless.

he eats you like he’s starving. like it’s the last time. like he wants you to remember this every time he touches her instead.

“fuck, jaemin—please—” you gasp, thighs trembling around his head.

he pulls back, chin glistening, eyes wild.

“turn around,” he says, breathless. “hands on the mirror.”

you do as you're told, heart pounding, legs shaking. he yanks your skirt higher, lines himself up behind you, and slams into you with one rough thrust.

you bite your lip hard to keep from crying out. he’s so deep. too deep. every inch of him fills you like he’s trying to erase everyone else.

he grips your hips, fucking into you mercilessly, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“look at yourself,” he pants. “look how pretty you are when i’m fucking you like this.”

you can’t look away. not when he’s pounding into you so good, your body already tightening around him.

his hand slides up your back, wraps around your neck, pulling you up against his chest. “you think she takes it like you do?” he whispers in your ear. “think she begs like you? drips like you? screams my name like it belongs to her?”

you’re crying now, from the pleasure, from the pain. from everything you never got to be.

“you think she screams for me like this?” he pants. “you think she takes me raw, begging to be full again?”

“no,” you cry, thighs shaking. “only me.”

“no one makes you feel like this,” he growls, fucking you harder, rougher. “no one. say it.”

“no one,” you sob. “no one but you.”

“that’s right, baby. i own this pussy.”

he reaches around, fingers rubbing your clit while he fucks you through your orgasm. your legs give out but he holds you up, forces you to take it.

you come undone with a cry, body shaking, completely at his mercy.

he doesn’t stop.

“fuck, i’m gonna fill you up,” he mutters, pounding into you like he’s lost in it. “gonna cum so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

“please,” you cry, delirious. “please do it. fill me—”

he groans your name as he spills inside you, hips stilling, cock twitching deep in your soaked cunt. you feel everything.

he stays there for a moment, breathing heavy, arms wrapped around you like maybe—just maybe—it meant something.

he pulls out slowly, the thick mess of him leaking down your thighs immediately. you’re still bent over the counter, breathless, skin flushed, tears drying on your cheeks.

he doesn’t say anything. just watches your reflection for a second, lips parted like he might regret something— but of course he doesn’t.

"don’t smile because it happened," you whisper, voice hoarse, broken.

he freezes.

"cry because it’s over."

he meets your eyes in the mirror again, jaw clenched. his hands curl into fists at his sides, like your words punched him in the ribs. but you keep going, tasting the ache on your tongue.

"you’re supposed to think about me every time you hold her."

his silence screams louder than anything he’s ever said. but then—

“shut the fuck up.”

his voice is rough. sharp. but not angry—desperate.

before you can blink, he’s spinning you around, grabbing your face with both hands, and crashing his lips against yours.

it’s not gentle. it’s not soft.

it’s punishment. it’s pain.

it’s everything you’ve never said.

“you want a goodbye fuck that bad?” he growls, already pulling your shirt up, fingers twisting your nipples roughly through your bra. “i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you something to cry about.”

you moan into his mouth, hips grinding against his thigh shamelessly, already sensitive, already needy.

he lifts you again, this time placing you directly on the cold marble counter, knees pushed up and wide.

he doesn’t even bother teasing—his fingers find your entrance and slide in deep, curling inside the mess he left.

“still fucking dripping,” he mutters. “didn’t even try to close up around anyone else, huh?”

you gasp, fingernails digging into his forearms.

“because no one else fits,” you breathe.

he groans, dragging his cock through your folds again, already hard.

“then take me again,” he snarls. “take every inch and beg for it.”

he thrusts into you with one brutal motion, and your head falls back as you cry out, body arching from the shock of it.

you’re still raw, still pulsing—but you take it, just like he asked. just like you always do.

this time, he stays closer. one hand on your throat, the other under your thigh, holding you wide open for him. his pace is relentless, cock slamming into your deepest parts like he’s trying to hurt you— but it’s not pain you want him to stop.

you want him to ruin you.

so you let him.

“look at me,” he hisses, eyes locked on yours. “fucking look while i break you.”

you meet his gaze, tears spilling again, mouth open in a silent moan.

"i want you to miss me," you whisper. "i want you to miss me..."

he slows, just a little. his thrusts go deeper, not softer, and his eyes change. like the words hit something he wasn’t ready for.

“fuck,” he breathes, leaning in, pressing his forehead to yours. “why do you always say shit like that?”

“because it’s true.”

he fucks you harder again, hands everywhere—your face, your hips, your breasts. he licks and bites your neck, groaning as your walls flutter around him.

he pulls you impossibly close, your chest to his, as he slams up into you one last time.

“then fucking cum for me again. now.”

you do. violently. you scream into his mouth as your orgasm crashes through you, shaking, your whole body giving out.

he follows with a growl, biting your shoulder as he spills inside you again, deeper this time, grinding through it until you’re both a mess of sweat and tears and cum.

you’re quiet after. he doesn’t move right away.

he stays inside you, breathing hard, forehead still resting against yours.

and for a second, it almost feels like more.

but you know better.

he pulls out slowly, the mix of both your orgasms dripping down your thighs.

you reach for the counter to steady yourself, blinking at your ruined reflection. red cheeks, swollen lips, glazed eyes.

he’s already adjusting his jeans, grabbing the doorknob again like nothing happened.

before he walks out, he looks at you one last time.

"don’t leave, jaem..." you whisper again, hollow.

but he does.

and he doesn’t cry either.

but you do.

he leaves.

just like that.

no kiss. no goodbye. not even a look back.

the door shuts behind him and the silence hits harder than anything else. your legs are trembling, your thighs sticky and slick, your body aching in every way it shouldn’t.

you stay there. sitting on the counter. bare. empty.

you don’t move for a while. not even when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later, asking if it’s occupied.

your voice cracks when you say, “just a minute.”

but no one hears the way you start crying again once they walk off.

the music is louder now.

bass heavy. laughter spilling from the kitchen. lights too bright. bodies moving past each other like none of it matters. like nothing hurts.

you feel dizzy. your lips are swollen. your mascara is ruined. you try to fix your hair in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom, but there’s no point. you look exactly how you feel.

broken.

you think maybe if you just disappear into the crowd, he’ll forget you’re still here.

but the universe is cruel.

and he sees you.

from across the room—leaning into jeno.

jeno, who’s always been kind.

jeno, who notices the way your hands are shaking.

jeno, who gently cups your face, wiping a tear that trails down to your lips.

you’re crying again, and jaemin watches.

you’re talking, but he can’t hear you.

you’re speaking between choked sobs and breathless hiccups, mouth trembling like you’re trying to explain your own pain to someone who might finally care. someone who might actually listen.

jeno pulls you close, arms wrapping around your frame like protection, like comfort.

and that’s when it hits.

jaemin’s still holding his red cup, but he’s not drinking anymore. not moving. just watching. frozen.

your voice is swallowed by the music—by the beat, by the blur of voices and bass—but he can see it in your eyes:

you weren’t supposed to fall apart like this. not for him.

you were never supposed to cry because it was over.

and yet—

you are.

and jeno is holding you together in the same house where jaemin tore you apart.

jaemin looks down at his drink. it’s warm. forgotten.

he doesn’t smile.

he just stands there, for a long time, watching the girl who used to beg for him now melt in someone else’s arms.

and for the first time since you met him...

he starts to miss you.

[islesnap]

mdni

“stress relief” | johnny suh

𝜗𝜚 genre: smut | wc: 5.3k | au: husband! johnny 𝜗𝜚 pairing: johnny suh x afab! reader 𝜗𝜚 warnings: doctor! + dom! johnny, stay-at-home wife! reader, established relationship, domesticity, comfort, free use kink, oral (m! receiving), talking through it, edging, counting down, overstimulation, recording, rough sex, piv, praising, possessiveness, breeding kink, use of vibrator, cock warming, creampie, aftercare, positions — cowgirl/prone/missionary, pet names — baby/sweetheart 𝜗𝜚 summary: johnny comes home after a tough and frustrating day, you — his very loving and doting wife — takes care of him in the best way you can… after all, he does so much for you. 𝜗𝜚 aimee's thoughts 💭 : there’s something about the idea of being johnny’s stay-at-home wife makes my insides tingle. also, this era of johnny is what i imagined he would look like in this fic... do what you want with that info.

As you step out of your bedroom, you hear the front door open then shut, followed by a deep sigh. You peek your head from the hallway to see Johnny undoing his tie before burying his face in his hands, clearly frustrated and overwhelmed.

“Tough day at work?” You ask, leaning your shoulder against the archway. Your voice catches him by surprise and his features soften at the sight of you. “Were your patients mean to you?” You tease.

“A little,” he admits, a tiny smile threatening to pull from the corner of his lips. Removing his tie, he lets the fabric hang on the backrest of a nearby dining chair. He makes his way to you before stopping himself, looking down at his clothes. “I should probably shower before hugging you, just in case.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before,” you cock your head to the side, confused at the sudden concern before pushing it aside. “But I was just about to hop into the shower. Wanna join me?” 

He nods and a relieved smile dances on his lips. 

You both head into the bathroom and you turn the shower’s dial to the temperature comfortable for both you and Johnny — dialing back on the heat since you like it a little hotter than he does.

“What happened at work today?” You ask Johnny as you squeeze his body wash into the wet washcloth before telling him to turn around so you could wash his back. 

He shakes his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he lies.

“You don’t always come home frustrated like this.” 

You feel his shoulders tense up before relaxing, letting you know he’s about to tell you what happened. When he does, you listen intently, offering him little hums as you signal him to turn around so you could wash his chest. 

“So, are you thinking about leaving that hospital?” You wonder, handing him the washcloth to have him wash the rest of his body. 

“Obviously it’s something I hope we could talk about,” he softly lets out. “The position at the other hospital pays more, but the one I’m working at now is only 20 minutes away from here.” 

“Money hasn’t been an issue before,” you scrunch your eyebrows when you look up at him before switching positions, having him under the shower head to rinse off while you begin to wash your own body with another washcloth. 

“Yeah I know,” he sighs. “But I don’t know, what if something happens. I wanna make sure we’re prepared.” 

“What would happen?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “What if one of us is hospitalized or if we decide to have kids? What if one of our cars breaks down or one of us gets into an accident?” 

You place your soapy hand on his glistening chest. “I get it,” you huff out a tiny laugh. “If this is an issue, then maybe I should start working again.” 

He takes your hand and lowers it before signaling you to turn around. Taking the washcloth you’re using, he begins to wash your back for you. “When we got married, I promised I would take care of you.” He reminds you and you replay the conversation you both had when you finally had the opportunity to quit the god-awful job you worked while Johnny worked towards the goal that got him where he is now. “I intend on keeping that promise.” 

“But not at the expense of you feeling like this,” you retort. “Do you want to take the other position because you want to or is it for the money?”

“It also has really great benefits,” he chuckles.

“Okay, would your workload lighten?” You question.

“Only slightly,” he giggles, handing you your washcloth and holding out a hand for you to help balance yourself as you wash the rest of your body. “A doctor’s workload doesn’t lighten no matter where you go.”

You look up at him, playfully rolling your eyes at his response.

“It’ll also be closer to my parents,” he softly admits, switching places with you again.

“Is that why you wanna move?” You allow the warm water to rise off your back as you await Johnny's answer. 

“Part of the reason.” 

You lift your hand to Johnny’s cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I think that’s enough of a reason,” you reassure.

“You’re sure? I feel bad that I’ve been dragging you everywhere because of work.” 

“At least this time it’s closer to where you grew up.” You  turn to rinse off the last bits of suds on your body. “Plus, your parents love me. They’ll be happy to have their daughter in law closer to them and they can stop nagging you about us visiting them.”

Johnny lets out a laugh as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, bringing your back into his chest. “I love you,” he whispers. “Thank you for being open and understanding.” 

You turn to face him, your bare chest pressing against his as he hugs you. Peering up through your wet lashes, you notice how he slicks back his hair away from his forehead and a droplet of water rolls from the tips of his hair down his neck. 

“If the roles were reversed, I know you would do the same for me,” you reply. “I intend on taking care of you, too, in any way I can.”

After showering, you find yourself and your husband in bed. You listen to Johnny pour out his other frustrations regarding work. With a towel wrapped around your body and a towel wrapped around his waist, you sit on your knees as you rub your moisturizer onto your face and down your neck as he speaks. 

“Yeah, I can definitely see why you’re frustrated,” you quietly let out, rubbing the excess moisturizer on your hands. “When do you think you’ll send in your resignation?”

“Maybe in a few months, six months tops. It’ll give us time to go apartment shopping before we move.” 

You nod in agreement before reaching over Johnny to place your moisturizer on your bedside table. “Anything I can do to help you relax after the hectic day you had?” You question, straddling his lap as your hands rub against his shoulders. “I can give you a massage,” you pause. “Or do other things, if you’d like.”

Taking your hands into his, he entwines his fingers between yours. “What do you have in mind?” He questions with a slight lift of his brow and a tilt of his head. 

“Something along the lines of you using me however you want,” you grin. “With a little bratiness thrown in here and there because I wouldn’t be your wife without it.” You pause for a second to give him a less explicit option. “Or I can make your favorite comfort meal. It’s up to you.”

With the way his lips lift into a smirk and the way he pulls your towel loose, you know his decision. 

You place yourself between his thighs, untucking the towel that’s wrapped around his waist. Without further instruction or objection, you grab a hold of his cock and lay your head against his toned abdomen. 

You use your tongue to lick against his shaft before pecking kisses against his reddened tip, feeling his cock harden at the touch of your lips. Swirling your tongue over his slit, he gathers your hair to one side and away from your face so he’s able to enjoy the view of his wife’s service. 

He pets your cheek endearingly, silently encouraging you to take more of him. When you do, it’s just his tip your lips wrap around. You use your hand to stroke the rest of his length and he lets out a satisfied sigh. 

“Stick your tongue out,” Johnny softly orders, grabbing a hold of the base of his hardened length. You obediently follow his command and he slaps his shaft against your tongue. The sight of you is so enticing, you see him grinning from ear to ear. 

You take hold of his shaft and you suck on his tip. He lets out a small moan before his head lolls back from pleasure. His hips buck up into you ever so slightly, pushing further into your mouth. 

“Impatient aren’t we?” You smirk as you use your thumb to circle his leaking tip. You peck tender kisses against his shaft, teasing him. “Want me to take all of it already?”

He nods and you see his pupils dilate at the sight of you. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, you reposition your lips against his cock’s head before engulfing him down your throat.

He sharply inhales before muttering ‘oh fuck’ under his breath at the feeling of your warm mouth around his length. Holding your head in place with your hair that’s fisted between his knuckles, he bucks his hips up into you and watches your lips meet the base of his shaft — soaking in the glorious sight of his lengthy cock disappearing into your mouth as you bob your head up and down.

Your gags bounce off the four walls of your shared bedroom. You slurp up your drool before spitting it back onto his cock and spreading it with your hands, knowing he’s a sucker for your sloppy head. 

Using your mouth as his personal toy, he guides your head up and down before holding you in place as you gag. 

“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he instructs and watches as you follow suit, smiling at how well you follow his directions. “That’s it, good job.” He chuckles in amusement as he lifts your head up again before guiding your mouth back down his shaft. “Good girl,” he deeply groans as he feels you swallow around his tip before hollowing your cheeks. 

When he lifts your head by your hair, he roughly brings your lips to his while you position yourself with his length between your wet folds and pressing against your aroused clit. 

You pull away from his kiss and plant your hands onto his chest, rocking your hips back and forth and mixing your wetness with the saliva coated around his cock. He sees a string of his precum follow your clit when you rub his tip against you. 

His eyes are glued to your movements. One hand rests on your thigh while the other frantically searches for his phone on the bedside table. When he gets a hold of it, he quickly opens up his camera and the little ding coming from his phone tells you he’s recording a video.

As you continue teasing him, you feel him throb under you and his breathing suddenly deepens. He’s watching you through his phone screen and his eyes light up with lust. You notice how the protruding bump of his adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows and how his lips part, as if he’s thirsting for more. 

“Slide it in,” he instructs, waiting for you to follow his words. He’s taken aback when you swiftly grab a hold of his phone and dodge his attempt to grab it back. 

“Beg for it,” you smile sweetly as the image on him fills up his phone screen. 

“Please stick it in, I wanna feel you around me.” He lets out but the lack of desperation in his voice causes you to shake your head. 

You take a hold of his cheeks with your hand, forcing him to look directly into the camera you’re holding in front of him. Tilting your head to the side while moving your hips back and forth, you give him a disappointed, and exaggerated, sigh. 

“I bet Dr. Suh is used to people following his instructions, huh?” You taunt. “It must really annoy you when your wife isn’t one of them.” 

A wicked grin appears before he tries to take the phone from you once more, only for you to swiftly pull it back and away from him. When you push his chest back down, you bring the camera in his line of vision again.

“Come on, all you have to do is beg a little.” You giggle, dragging your thumb gently along his bottom lip before running it down the column of his throat. “I wanna hear how badly you want me.” 

In that moment, you see his eyes darken and he makes direct eye contact with his phone’s camera, knowing you’re looking at his screen. 

“Please let me fuck you,” he smirks. “Let me show you exactly who you belong to.” He pauses, bringing his hand up to the wrist of the hand you’re holding the phone in. He squeezes it slightly to prevent you from pulling away. “Let me fucking ruin you tonight, baby.”

His words ignite a fire in the pit of your stomach before he shoves his phone out of your hand and onto the other side of the bed. 

Snaking his hand behind your neck, he frantically pulls you down to his lips before delving his tongue into your mouth, rolling it over yours before taking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You want that, huh?” He speaks against your lips. “You want me to ruin you, over and over again.” 

You mindlessly nod your head, quickly submitting to his previous words without needing to say it again. You lift your hips to give you enough room to maneuver his tip against your entrance before sinking onto his shaft, your needy cunt swallowing him effortlessly while your walls quickly mold to his size as he whispers ‘good girl’ against your lips. 

He squeezes his hands against your hips, keeping you in place before lifting his hips to penetrate deeply into you — feeling his mushroom tip presses against your sweet spot.

You sit up, planting your palms against his warm chest with your fingers splayed out. Your nails leave crescent shaped indents as you dig them into him with every satisfying thrust.

His hands slide up your body and up to the sides of your neck and his thumb slips between your lips and against your tongue. Without being told, you begin sucking. 

With one hand still planted on your neck, he halts his thrusts. He swiftly uses the thumb you sucked on to circle against your aching clit.

“Look at me,” his voice deepens as he stares into your eyes, flickering between them. 

You’re squirming on top of him with the way his thumb works your ball of nerves. He taps the pad of his thumb against your clit, causing you to shudder and your velvety walls involuntarily pulse around his cock.

You try to muffle your noises with the way you’re pressing your lips together, only for a moan to slip out and opening the floodgates of noises he needs to hear from you. 

“Get loud,” he teases. “A noise complaint won’t hurt.” 

You press the palm of your hand against his mouth, silencing him. Just by the look in his eyes, you know it was a mistake. You feel him smirk against your palm right before his thumb picks up its pace. 

Just as he expected, you bite down on your bottom lip as you’re grinding on top of him. He feels your walls tighten before you slide your hand down to his chest, bracing yourself for your orgasm.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He taunts and you rapidly nod your head. “That’s too bad, actually. No you’re not.” He chuckles as he continues to circle your clit, confusing you. “You’re not gonna cum until I get to number one. If you think about looking away, I’m starting over. If you cum before I get to one, I’m putting you on a sex ban.”

He begins counting backwards from 10. By the time he reaches 8, your nails are clawing into his chest. When he reaches 5, the muscles in your body begin to hurt from how hard you’re tensing up. By 4, your toes are curling, your calves burning, and your tears begin to brim your waterline. 

“3… 2…” he lingers before saying the last number until you let out a desperate wimper followed by a quiet ‘please’ to which he smiles. “1.” 

Within a second, you allow yourself to let go and have your orgasm hit you. You shut your eyes and whimpers spill out from your lips as your body freezes from the shockwaves that course through your body. His thumb doesn’t waver and he’s rubbing your swollen clit until you’re begging him to stop. 

You twitch upon his touch as his thumb taps against your overstimulated clit. A squeal is heard and you push his hand away from you, weakly pinning it against the mattress. Every muscle in your body relaxes and causes you to fall onto your husband’s chest. 

“You’re so mean,” you tiriedly laugh as Johnny slides his finger up and down your bare spine.

“But that tone tells me you enjoyed it,” he teases before bucking into you again, causing you to jerk upwards. “C’mon, you’re not done.” He taps your thigh before instructing you to get onto your stomach. 

Patting around the bed, he finds his phone and stops the previous recording before starting a new one. With your legs between his thighs, he gives your ass a nice, playful smack before placing the phone in your hand.

You hold his phone at arms length in front of you, ensuring both you and Johnny were in frame.

“Keep your eyes on the screen,” he grins before sliding himself into your entrance and your jaw drops at the sudden feeling of fullness. “Look away and I’m stopping, do you understand?”

You nod, looking at the screen like he instructed. Your eyes are glazed over and you see streaks of dried up tears against your face. He leans forward, caging you under him with his arms before his lips meet the shell of your ear, playfully tugging it between his teeth. 

“Use your words,” he whispers. 

“Yes, I understand.” you correct yourself, obediently.

“Yes what?” He smirks, looking at you through the screen before harshly thrusting into you. “Say my name.”

“Yes Johnny,” you whisper, jaw slacked open from his slow and hungry movements. Your eyes attempt to close, only for Johnny to remind you of his rules. 

“You want me to stop?” He questions harshly, almost in disbelief.

You quickly shake your head, looking at him through the phone screen. “I’m sorry,” you let out. “Please don’t stop. You give him a pout. “I promise I’ll follow your instructions.” 

Your begs cause him to grin against your cheek before planting a gentle kiss on your skin. Your eyes stay locked on Johnny who lifts himself to thrust into you. His hands push against your lower back and he uses you for his own pleasure.

His strokes are deep — harsh even — as if he’s taking out all his frustrations on your poor innocent cunt. His rough movements are accompanied by deep, guttural groans — almost animalistic and feral. 

His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down his shaft as he penetrates into you, hitting your sensitive spot. You see his eyes lift to make sure you’re following the rules he placed upon you and to his surprise, you are — with your brows furrowed and your jaw dropped from the immense pleasure you’re feeling.

You’ve bunched up the sheets under your chin to bite on as he gives you his cock oh so well and in turn, it helps muffle your screams of pleasure so you’re not too loud. 

“Lift your hips,” he orders and you follow through. He slides his hand under you, placing itself between your thighs. Your eyes widen, already knowing what he’s about to do.

He leans forward again, placing open kisses against your shoulder and setting his lips against the back of head. Johnny’s skilled fingers circle around your overly sensitive, swollen, and aching clit and your hips twitch up and into him from the sensitivity. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” he coos. “So fucking pretty and all mine,” he mutters against your hair. “Don’t you think?” 

All you do is nod, mind filled with nothing but haze as you’re focused on the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“Say it.” You feel a devilish smile appear on his face. “Look in the camera and say who you belong to.”

You do as he says. “I’m yours.” You mumble.

“Uh uh,” he quietly and playfully scolds. “Say my name.”

“I’m Johnny’s.” Your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassed he’s making you talk as if someone else will be watching this video. 

“Good girl,” he growls, punctuating every word with a deep and harsh thrust. “I love making love to your pretty little cunt.” He groans. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes.”

“I can use it however the fuck I want. You love when I fill you up, don’t you? You love when I mark you up from the inside with my cum, hm?” 

His obscene words cause your heart to skip a beat and your stomach flutters before the muscles in your stomach tightens, feeling a build up of pleasure. 

You rapidly nod your head at his words while your nails dig into the bed sheets that are already peeling off the corners of your mattress. 

“I love when you cum inside of me, Johnny.” You whine, allowing your jaw to fall open as his hips harshly thrust into you, slapping of skin filling the room. 

“Yeah?” He slyly chuckles. “What better way to show people you’re mine than to fuck my baby into my pretty wife?” He grins at the sight of you biting down on the bed sheets, your walls clenching around his shaft as you hear his words.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine. “I’m gonna cum,” you warn as your eyes watch his hips slap against your ass, your skin rippling with every rough stroke.

Johnny’s finger maintains the pace on your clit while you tremble underneath him. “Cum for me, baby.” He whispers into your ear and just like the obedient wife you are, you’re cumming on his cock for the second time that night. You sob into your sheets, muffled cries of his name could be heard before your hand releases your grip on his phone.

He feels you tighten around him while he fucks you through your orgasm and your inner thighs begin to tremble from the intensity. Slowing his movements, he reaches over to grab his phone, holding it in front of you. 

“Look at how fucked out you look, sweetheart.” His voice drips with a hint of a condescending tone. He forces you to look at yourself when he takes a hold of your cheeks. “Beautiful, aren’t you?”

He forces your head up and down to nod before you give him a cockdrunk smile — eyes glazed over and your lips swollen and raw from how hard you’re biting down when you cum. 

“You’re not done yet, are you?” You question, turning your head to look at him. His lips are inches away from yours. 

“Not a chance,” he grins, allowing his phone to fall face front into the mattress. “Get on your back for me.” 

You do as he says before he pulls your legs to drag you to the edge of the bed where he’s standing. He dips his tip into your sopping cunt eagerly and you swallow him with ease, making it easier to bottom out into you. 

His thumb finds its way to your mouth again, watching you suck on it before letting your jaw hang open when you feel his cock’s tip bullying your g-spot. 

With every thrust, he jerks you up the bed. His movements earn him loud and obscene noises that part your lips before his large hands grip onto your shoulders. He pulls you down in tandem with every jerk of his hips. 

You place your hand against his stomach, attempting to slow his movements only to have him pin your hands against your mouth, muffling your noises. 

He pants as his hips rut back and forth before he chuckles to himself, watching your thighs tremble. His thumb finds your clit again, carefully circling it as he watches your reaction. It’s clear you’re still reeling from the stimulation caused by your second orgasm, but Johnny loves it.

“I think I have a better idea,” he huffs, halting his movements. 

He lowers his hands before opening the drawer of his bedside table. He pulls out your tiny battery powered vibrator. 

“My thumb might not be enough this time,” he smirks. “Tell me no if you don’t want me to use it.”

You stay silent and Johnny takes that as an okay to continue. He slowly begins thrusting his hips again.

“Let’s start off slow, hm?” 

You let out a tiny chuckle. “Going soft on me?” You taunt, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I’m surprised.”

He looks at you, amused by your words. “The highest it is, then.” 

Your eyes widen right before the intense vibrations pulse against your sensitive clit. You open your mouth to say something only for a moan to come out instead. 

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He chuckles, erratically thrusting his hips into you.

“Ph-phone,” you manage to let out.

“You want me to record this?” Johnny smirks and you simply nod your head. He obliges, reaching over to grab his phone before starting a new recording. 

Slowly lifting your hand, you take a hold of his camera before taking over the recording. You aim the camera to where the vibrator is — watching him penetrate into you while dragging your vibrator up and down your wet slit, focusing on your swollen clit. 

Your hands are trembling as you’re watching him fuck you through the phone screen before you decide to end the recording and throw his phone to the side. 

He leans into your neck, sucking on your favorite spot while your orgasm creeps up. Your hand tries to lighten the pressure he has on your clit, only for Johnny to pin his free hand over yours when he pulls away from your neck. 

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and Johnny grins. “Is this gonna be your third orgasm, baby?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Mhm,” you hum. “I’m so close.”

“Hold on, not yet.” He huffs before letting out a laugh. You know he’s going to start his countdown, painfully edging you. 

“Please,” you beg. “I can’t h-hold it for 10 seconds.”

“Yes you can,” he smiles at you sweetly. “Now you know the rules.” 

He begins counting down while he thrusts into you and you keep your eyes locked on his. By 7, your aching clit throbs — making you painfully aware of how desperately you need to cum. By 6, your visions begin to go hazy. When he reaches 4, your eyes begin to water from holding in your orgasm.

“3… 2…” he smirks. “…1.”

You scream out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you hard. Johnny doesn’t stop fucking you through your orgasm, but he does turn off your vibrator before cupping the sides of your face and giving you well deserved kisses against your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praises. “Good job, I knew you could do it.” He softly chuckles, wiping away your tears with his thumbs before capturing your lips with his.

You feel every muscle in your body melt when you finally come down from your high. 

“Wrap your arms around me,” Johnny instructs. 

You do as he asks, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and keeping your legs around your waist. In one quick and swift move, you’re on top of him. 

“I’m close,” he whispers. “Let me take it from here.” 

You weakly nod your head as you rest against his chest. His tip pushes into your entrance once again, burying itself between your soaking walls. He thrusts his hips up and into you while you enjoy being used by your husband. His arms pin your body against him, keeping you as close to him as possible. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Johnny warns.

You muster the strength to sit yourself up and you grind your hips against him, helping him reach his high quickly. His hands grip your waist when he cums inside of you, letting out a strangled groan when you quickly jerk your hips back and forth, milking every drop from him. 

His tense body relaxes, telling you he’s emptied himself into your cunt. “C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you back down to his chest.

“Don’t pull it out yet,” you softly mumble as you peck kisses against his blushed chest. 

“I won’t,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist while the other cups the back of your head. “You okay? It was a little intense.” 

“I’m more than okay,” you giggle. “I’m still on cloud nine.” 

Johnny places a gentle, loving kiss against your forehead. His hand rubs circles against your lower back before rubbing your quivering thighs.

He shifts under you. “Give me a second to grab water,” he softly says and you slowly lift yourself off him. He returns with two plastic bottled waters and a container of prewashed green grapes. 

Your eyes light up when you see the container, both of you knowing how often you’ve been eating them these past couple of weeks. 

He cracks open the top of the water bottle and hands it to you, making sure you’re hydrated after your intense back to back orgasms. 

“Thank you,” you smile before drinking nearly half of the bottle in one go. You lift a grape and place it into your mouth, enjoying the sweetness when you chew.

Johnny mimics your movements before he looks at you. “You know I’ll take care of you and our child if we were to have kids, right?” He suddenly lets out. 

“I mean, you take care of me when we don’t have kids.” You grin, popping another grape into your mouth. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll extend that care to our child. Why are you suddenly bringing this up?”

“With the whole marking you from the inside and fucking my baby into you talk,” he shrugs. “I just wanna make sure you know.”

You lift your hand to comb through his disheveled hair. “Thank you,” you smile. “Like I said, there’s no doubt in my mind you’ll take care of us.”

He nods before suggesting to use the bathroom and to wash your bodies once more before bed. When you agree, you both step into the shower and quickly wash your bodies, ridding your body from the sweat that came with your intense love making session. 

Johnny quickly strips and replaces the bed sheets while you gather the leftovers from the night before for tonight’s dinner and his favorite snacks to further comfort him after the stressful day he’s had. 

Just as he’s done, you place the tray of food and snacks on the bed and you both excitedly hop into bed with you snuggled into his side as you watch a movie of his choice. He feeds you bites of his snacks after dinner while his thumb mindlessly brushes your waist from under your sleep shirt.

Once the movie ends, you attempt to throw away the packaging of his snacks you both finished. Your husband stops you, keeping you cuddled next to him. 

“Thank you for taking care of me after work today.”

“It’s no problem,” you yawn. “You do so much, it’s the least I can do.”  

Johnny doesn’t respond, but he squeezes you as he pulls you closer into his side.

“Is there anything you wanna talk about before we call it a night?”

You hear Johnny hum. 

Sitting up, you look at your husband who moves a strand of fallen hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. He laces his fingers between yours as he holds it.

“Can we talk about the positive pregnancy test I saw in the bathroom trash this morning?”

[islesnap]

paul, my autistic-coded king. ur so special to me.

big fan of how hamster coded Paul looks in the Kickstarter promo

[islesnap]

oh this is So Good. thank you op for this masterpiece

mdni

“REM”

synopsis -> “okay hear me out, a nsfw about mark into somnophilia but not in a creepy way. Its more to them being comfortable with each other in another level” [requested]

an: love me a good consented somnophilia

warnings: consented somnophilia, soft sex

—

mark slips into your shared apartment in the middle of the night, exhaustion hanging off his shoulder. the recording session had run late, again. but the soft glow spilling from the hallway light you always leave on for him lets him know he’s home as soon as he walks in the door. he quietly tiptoes in, hearing the faint sound of the t.v. coming from your shared bedroom but doesn’t hear any sounds from you.

and there you were, curled up into his side of the bed, chest rising and falling in that gentle rhythm, legs wrapped around a pillow. his shirt on your skin rises a little, giving him a peek of your lacy pink underwear.

god, he missed you.

missed your body. your warmth. your presence. the little things. your hums when you think, the way your fingers trace patterns on his back when you’re half-asleep, the way you fit perfectly in his arms like he was made for you and only you.

he changes out of his clothes, slipping on his grey sweats, before finally joining you in bed, pulling your back to his chest. you stir a tiny bit, a hum slipping from your lips.

mark breathes you in like he’s been starved of you, the warmth of your body, the scent of your shampoo all intoxicating him like a sweet drug he couldn’t get enough of.

“baby,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “i missed you so much,” he whispers, leaving soft, ghostly kisses on the back of your neck. your body shifts a little closer to him, like it recognizes him before your mind could even catch up.

mark leans in, pressing a trail of kisses along your shoulder, his voice low and raw with affection, “i hate being away from you,” his cold fingertips wander under your shirt, exploring the familiar curve of your waist, tracing lazy circles with his fingertips, “—feels like i leave a part of myself every time.”

you shift again, sighing as your hips nudge back into him, the faintest sign that your dreams are starting to blur into something warmer, something more aware.

mark holds you closer, his need pressed against the curve of your backside. “need you so bad, baby…do you feel it?,” his hand wanders down your thighs, body responding to his touch with a million goosebumps.

his fingers dipped into your underwear, feeling your slick, “god, you’re dripping,” his cock twitches at the idea that even in sleep, you were all his, “i’ll take care of you baby, don’t worry,” dropping a kiss to your shoulder before carefully slipping your panties off of you, afraid to wake you up.

he slides his sweats down enough to free his hard cock, all ready and leaking for you, before situating himself behind you. his tip teases your warm hole before he finally slides in, a grunt falling from his lips, “fuucck baby, you feel so good,” he groans as he slowly starts rocking into you, earning a whine from your lips, eyes still shut closed, “gonna make you feel real good.”

he moves with care. everything he does is slow, intimate, meant only for you. his arm tightens around your waist, body molding to yours. your body responds naturally, instinctively, the way it always has for him. your hips shift, your breath quickens, your fingers curl into the pillow beneath your head. he moves within you in a rhythm that’s steady, tender, like he’s not just chasing pleasure but holding onto something more sacred. his aching cock kissing that spot over and over again.

“almost there, baby,” he whispers, voice completely wrecked, lips pressed to the back of your neck, his fingers make his way around, rubbing soft circles on your sensitive bud, “i’ve got you. just let go.”

and as if it was like his voice was your body’s command. you do. he feels your release all around him, “so fucking perfect baby, you’re doing so well,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes shutting in bliss as your pussy sucks around him incredibly tight, a sharp intake of breath from your unconscious lips, a tiny whine of his name even in dreams. it’s not loud. it’s not wild. it’s the kind of release that comes when you feel completely safe, completely his.

mark follows soon after, hips stuttering, a groan tearing from his throat as he holds you close and lets himself fall apart with you. his face buries into your shoulder, his breath warm and shaky against your skin.

when it’s over, he doesn’t pull away. he just holds you tighter, still inside you, still wrapped around you like he’s afraid the world might take you away if he loosens his grip even a little.

your fingers find his, where they rest gently across your stomach, your smaller hand curling around his in that soft, instinctive way you always do when you’re half-asleep but still reaching for him.

“don’t leave,” you whisper, voice thick with sleep and love. he presses a kiss to your skin, one to your shoulder, another to your neck, then another, and another. each one soft, unhurried, like a love letter written in touch.

“not going anywhere” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “go back to sleep, baby, i’m here.” you nod faintly, body already melting into him again, boneless and safe. mark stays inside you, your bodies pressed close, your fingers still woven with his. he can feel your heartbeat under his hand, slow, steady, calming.

as your breathing deepens, your body relaxes fully into his, he knows you’ve slipped into REM…that precious, vulnerable stage of sleep where your mind begins to dream and your heart can truly rest.

his chest rises and falls in time with yours, and as the minutes stretch, his own thoughts begin to fade into the haze of contentment, into the quiet hum of your shared rhythm.

still inside you. still holding you.

and in that perfect stillness, mark finally lets himself fall into sleep, into you, joining you in REM, wrapped in the kind of comfort that only love like this can offer.

[islesnap]

I DIDN'T NOTICE THIS OMG

Why I think the “Paul became the new Brain after he blew up the meteor” theory has a lot of merit:

It’s hard to see in the proshot due to the editing but in the digital ticket, at the very end of Inevitable, you can clearly see the rest of the Hive pause and turn to Paul as if taking their cue from him.

At this point the song feels like it could already end, but then Paul proclaims “the Apotheosis is upon us” and the Hive immediately follow suit.

Thematically it also makes a lot of sense for Paul to become the “head” of the Hive—this way, him blowing up the meteor is “self-destruction” in more ways than one.

(Plus, he is called the leading man at the start after all)

[islesnap]

mdni

Mutual Distraction - Mark Lee x F!Reader

"Try not to fall in love with me mid-rebuttal,” I murmured, flipping open the folder without even looking at him. He smirked. “Try not to humiliate yourself. I’d rather not have to carry both our arguments on stage.” I hate him. I really, really do. But I also kind of want to see what happens when we actually team up—because if our insults are this sharp, God help the judges."

cw : smut, enemies to lovers, slow burn?? or just two overachievers stress-fucking their way to an A+

There are exactly three things I hate more than public speaking: group projects, lukewarm coffee, and Mark fucking Lee.

So naturally, life decided to hand me all three before 10 a.m.

I was halfway through mentally writing an email titled “Why this debate tournament is my villain origin story” when my name got called — loudly and way too enthusiastically. 

“y/n will step in as Mark’s partner due to medical withdrawal from his teammate.”

Cue: mild cardiac arrest, a brain reboot, and the overwhelming urge to vanish into the air. 

I blinked. Then blinked again. Apparently, glaring at the universe doesn’t reverse stupidity. Tragic, really. 

Across the room, Mark looked up from his book like fate had just slapped him across the face with a hardcover — which, honestly, felt accurate. 

His expression screamed what the fuck?. Mine probably said the same.

I stood up anyway. Pair me with a brick wall and I’d still walk away with the win. Mark just happens to be a brick wall who thinks he’s a genius. Cute. He’ll learn. 

Still, as I walked across the stage toward him, I couldn’t ignore the simmering irritation bubbling under my skin — or the way his blazer fit a little too well. Ugh. Rude.

“Don’t look so thrilled, Mark,” I said with a too-sweet smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Relax — I only bite if someone asks nicely.”

He handed me the case file like it was laced with anthrax.

“You have five minutes to prepare,” the moderator announced.

Mark didn’t say a word — just looked at me like I’d committed a crime against humanity. I stared back, resisting the very real urge to throw my pen at his annoyingly symmetrical face.

“Try not to fall in love with me mid-rebuttal,” I murmured, flipping open the folder without looking at him.

He smirked. Barely. “Try not to humiliate yourself. I’d rather not have to carry both our arguments on stage.”

I hate him.

I really, really do but I also kind of want to see what happens when we actually team up.

Because if our insults were this sharp…

God help the judges.

A sharp tap on the mic snapped the room to attention.

“Okay, let’s begin,” said one of the judges, adjusting her glasses and peering over the rim with a challenge in her gaze. 

“If social media is such a threat, why do billions still use it every day?”

She barely finished the question before I fired back. 

“Because addiction doesn’t look like destruction—not at first.” 

She let the words settle before continuing, her gaze sweeping the panel.

“It looks like dopamine. Like connection. Like validation in the form of likes and comments. But under the surface? It’s rewiring how we see ourselves and worse, how we value each other.” 

I leaned in slightly. “We don't fear the tool. We fear what it's turning us into.” 

I turned to Mark.

“You say people choose to be online.”

A pause. He lets the silence draw just long enough.

“But addiction always looks like a choice… right up until it doesn’t.”

He took one step forward.

“Social media doesn’t connect us.”

Another pause, this one surgical.

“It controls us.”

A pause—then the soft scratching of pens, the subtle twitch of impressed smiles.

Mark gave a faint shrug, turning slightly toward me with the hint of a smirk.

I didn’t look at him.

But my grin said everything.

Checkmate.

We won the debate. obvi.

And of course, Mark couldn’t let it settle for more than two seconds before opening his mouth.

“I’m just saying,” he drawled, tugging at the edge of his blazer, “we only won because I delivered the knockout line. The rest was just—set dressing.”

I scoffed, not even looking at him as I slipped my folder back into my bag.

“You mean the line you stole from a book” I shot back sweetly. “Congratulations, you plagiarized your way into glory.”

He laughed, low and warm. “You’ve got to admit, it sounded better coming from me.”

I looked up at him, my eyes flashing. “So would silence.”

Mark tilted his head slightly, smirk curling at the edges. “Admit it. You love when I win.”

“I love that we won,” I corrected, then added, under my breath, “and now I have to tolerate the ego inflation that follows.”

His voice dipped, just enough to turn the air between them warmer than it had any right to be. “So you do love something about me.”

I opened my mouth—whether to fire back or let something slip, even I wasn’t sure—but that’s when Professor Kim appeared beside them, clapping once, far too loud.

“Incredible, both of you! That was one of the sharpest debate I’ve heard in years.”

They both straightened instantly, too quickly, like school kids caught passing notes.

Mark’s smirk vanished in favor of a polite nod.

My smile was stiff.

“Thank you, Professor,” we said in near-unison.

The professor, thankfully oblivious, beamed at us and moved on to the next team.

Mark exhaled.

I cleared my throat.

And just like that, the moment was gone—left hovering awkwardly between them like an ellipsis neither of them knew how to finish.

“So you do love something about me.”

The words kept echoing in my head, like a song I couldn’t stop replaying. Ever since the debate two days ago—his cocky smirk, that glint in his eye, the way he leaned just a little too close when he said it—I hadn’t been able to shake it.

Get the fuck out of my head, Mark.

I scowled at the notebook in front of me, not absorbing a single word of the notes I was supposed to be taking. My pen hovered uselessly above the page, tapping a silent rhythm that matched the anxious flutter in my chest.

Why the hell was he in my head?

The shrill sound of the bell snapped me back to reality, like cold water thrown over my thoughts.

“Okay, class, see you Monday,” the professor called. Chairs scraped and conversations buzzed as everyone packed up.

I stood to leave, slinging my bag over my shoulder, when—

“Miss Y/N, could you stay back a while? I have something to ask you.”

My heart stuttered.

I turned slowly, trying to play it cool even though my pulse was sprinting. Behind me, Mark hadn’t moved either, his lazy grin already in place like he was expecting this.

Of course he stayed back too.

“Uh, sure,” I said, trying not to sound suspiciously breathless.

The classroom emptied around us, the chatter fading until it was just the three of us.

As I stepped toward the front, I could feel him beside me—his presence always too warm, too close.

"Relax," he whispered under his breath, just low enough for only me to hear. "I'm not gonna bite."

"Too bad," I shot back before I could stop myself. My eyes widened a little too late. Did I really just say that?

His smirk deepened, and now I really wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

“Right,” the professor said, oblivious. “I just wanted to ask if you two would be open to working together for the upcoming presentation. You both have strong points of view in the last debate. I think it could make for an interesting dynamic.”

I could practically feel Mark turning to look at me.

“That’s… up to her,” he said. And damn him, his voice was all casual and charming, like he hadn’t just been living rent-free in my head for forty-eight hours.

The professor looked at me expectantly.

I opened my mouth and forced a polite smile. “Sure. That’s fine.”

“Perfect,” he said. “You can coordinate the details together. I’ll expect a rough outline by Friday.”

With that, he gathered his things and left us there—in the silence, in whatever this thing was that buzzed between us like static.

Mark didn’t move. Just tilted his head, watching me with far too much amusement.

“What?” I asked, trying for exasperation, but it came out… flustered.

“That didn’t sound like a no,” he said softly.

“To what?”

His eyes twinkled. “To loving something about me.”

I groaned and turned to walk away. “God, you’re insufferable.”

But he followed, matching my pace with infuriating ease. “You didn’t say no, though.”

“Shut up, Mark.”

“See? You do love something about me.”

And I hated how much I almost smiled.

I was mid-scroll through my phone and minding my own business when my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Tomorrow. My place. 4PM. Outline work + snacks provided. Dress code: chill but cute.

I stared at the screen, blinking like the words might magically rearrange into something normal.

Then another text came in.

Unknown Number: Don’t act surprised. It’s Mark, obviously.

I nearly dropped my phone. Mark??

I hadn’t given him my number.

At least, I didn’t think I had. Had I blacked out during class? 

Then clarity. 

The professor.

Of course. “Pair up for the presentation,” he’d said. 

Apparently, giving Mark Lee access to my number was part of the deal now.

I fired off a reply with shaky thumbs:

You: How did you get my number??

Mark: The professor.

You: I’m reporting this as an invasion of privacy.

Mark: You can do that. After we finish our presentation on 20th century subtext and the unbearable tension between co-presenters. See you at 4, Sunshine.

Sunshine???

I stared at the ceiling and seriously considered deleting my entire identity.

This was dumb. I shouldn’t be nervous.

It was just Mark. Annoying, arrogant Mark who delighted in getting under my skin.

But my palm was sweaty against the strap of my laptop bag, and I’d changed outfits twice before settling on something that said “I don’t care” when it very much meant “God, I hope I don’t look like a disaster.”

I hesitated, then knocked.

The door swung open before my fist could land again.

Mark was standing there, wearing a black hoodie and an easy smile that immediately made me suspicious.

“You’re early,” he said, leaning against the door frame.

“You said four.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d show up fashionably late.”

I pushed past him. “Sorry to disappoint.”

He shut the door behind me. “You never do.”

My brain short-circuited.

“Snacks are in the kitchen,” he said, like he hadn’t just casually flirted me into a state of semi-catatonia. “And yes, I remembered you hate raisins.”

I blinked. “You… what?”

“Your oatmeal cookie rant in class?” He looked at me over his shoulder. “Very passionate. I felt personally attacked.”

I blinked again. “Okay, wow. You actually listen.”

Mark grinned. “Shocking, I know.”

I followed him to the living room, trying very hard not to look like I was analyzing every surface of his house for evidence of his entire personality.

His couch was comfy. His bookshelf was full. And his kitchen smelled faintly of cinnamon, which I refused to find charming.

“Alright,” I said, settling on the chair by his desk and opening my laptop. “Let’s focus. No distractions. No attitude. No stupid smirks.”

Mark dropped into the seat beside me—beside, not across—and leaned back, looking way too comfortable.

“I make no promises,” he said, reaching for a cookie. “But I’m flattered you called my smirk stupid. That’s how I know you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“You’re a little flustered.”

“I will throw this cookie at your face.”

He held out a hand. “Go ahead. I love dramatic foreplay.”

I choked on air.

“Presentation,” I gasped, pointing at the screen like it could save me from whatever this was. “We’re outlining. Now.”

Mark grinned. “You’re adorable when you panic.”

“I’m going to murder you with a notebook.”

He laughed, leaning closer until our shoulders almost touched. “And yet… here you are. At my house. With cookies. And a suspicious amount of eye contact.”

I glared at him. “Let’s just get this outline done before I remember I have pepper spray in my bag.”

Mark raised his brows, pretending to scribble a note in his journal. “Add that to our conflict section. Threats, unresolved tension, will-they-won’t-they energy. We’re off to a strong start.” 

This is going to be a long day.

“We are exactly three bullet points into this outline,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the document on my laptop. “And somehow we’ve spent fifteen minutes arguing about font size.”

“Because it matters,” Mark replied, leaning back in the chair like he was relaxing at a resort instead of sabotaging my productivity. “Presentation is 50% aesthetics. You wouldn’t wear ugly shoes to a first date, would you?”

“This isn’t a date.”

He looked at me. Slowly. His eyes dragging from my face down to where my knees were curled under me on the chair. Then back up.

“No,” he said, voice a little quieter. “It’s not.”

My throat went dry.

There was something about the way he said it. Like he was daring me to contradict him. Like he wanted me to say something but all I could do was blink at him like my brain had taken the rest of the day off.

Silence settled between us. The kind that hummed. Soft and slow and almost... expectant.

I reached for a cookie to have something to do with my hands. “We’re never going to finish this outline.”

“Maybe,” he said, “we’re not supposed to finish it today.”

I turned to look at him.

He was closer now. His knee brushing mine. His eyes not moving.

“When are we supposed to finish then?” I asked. My voice came out softer than I meant it to.

Mark tilted his head. “Not sure. But I think we’re in the middle of something.”

“That’s vague.”

“That’s on purpose.”

Another beat of silence. The air between us was thick with it—whatever this was. Heat. Curiosity. The kind of pause where you both know what’s coming next and are terrified of how real it’s about to get.

I should’ve said something sarcastic. Broken the tension. Pushed him away like I always did.

But I didn’t.

Because he was already leaning in.

And I didn’t stop him.

Not when his gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips.

Not when he murmured, “Tell me to stop.”

I didn’t.

And then—

His mouth met mine.

Soft at first. Testing. Like he was waiting for me to pull away.

I didn’t.

I leaned in.

His hand slid up, fingers threading gently through my hair, the kiss deepening just enough to steal my breath—but not too much to feel rushed. It was warm. Messy in the best way. All tension and heat and finally.

When we broke apart, my heart was thudding so hard I was positive he could hear it.

I blinked at him.

He was smiling. Not that smug smirk. Something softer. Still teasing—but different now.

“So,” he said. “Still threatening me with that notebook?”

“Don’t tempt me,” I whispered, breathless.

“Too late.”

I swallowed hard, still trying to catch up to my own brain. “This doesn’t count as a study break, by the way.”

Mark grinned. “Then we should do it again. Just to make sure.”

Mark didn’t wait this time.

He kissed me like he was going to ruin me—hands gripping my thighs and lifting me in one swift, breath-stealing motion.

I gasped as he spun me toward the desk. My papers went fluttering to the floor in a storm of pages and forgotten priorities.

“Oops,” he murmured, setting me down on the edge of the desk like I belonged there. “Guess I’m not very good at group projects.”

My breath hitched, legs parting instinctively as he stepped between them. “You’re a dick.”

Mark smirked, his hands sliding under my thighs, fingers warm against bare skin. “And yet, here you are. Moaning for the guy you claim to hate.”

“I didn’t moan.”

“You will.”

His mouth was back on mine—deeper now like neither of us had time to pretend anymore. His hands were everywhere. Tracing up my back, down my hips, slipping under my shirt with ease. I could feel his grin against my lips when I gasped as he touched my boobs.

“God,” I whispered, arching into him, “you’re—so annoying.”

He kissed down my neck, slow and deliberate. “But you’re wet for me anyway.”

I hated how easily those words undid me.

“Tell me,” he said, voice dark and low, breath ghosting across my collarbone, “how long you’ve wanted this.”

I hesitated—just a second too long—and he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet my eyes.

Mark’s gaze was hungry. But not just with lust—he needed the truth.

So I gave it to him.

“Since the first time you smiled at me,” I breathed. “Which is annoying. Because I hate your smile.”

He growled softly. “You love my smile.”

And then he was kissing me again, yanking my shirt over my head, dragging his hoodie off with one hand. We were heat and skin and tangled limbs and barely-restrained want.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he murmured, trailing kisses down my stomach, fingers hooking into my waistband. “On my desk. All soft and needy.”

“I am not—”

He slipped two fingers between my thighs and pressed.

I whimpered.

Mark looked up at me, all teeth and heat. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

My head fell back, hips lifting toward his touch.

“Say you want it,” he whispered, voice thick with heat, fingers still teasing. “I need to hear it, baby.”

“Mark—” My voice cracked. “Please.”

“Please what?”

I met his eyes, breathless, desperate. “Please fuck me.”

He didn’t make me wait.

He pulled off the rest of our clothes in a tangle of laughter and curses between kisses. His touch was reverent and rough in equal parts—slow when he wanted me to feel everything, fast when he couldn’t hold back.

When he finally slid inside me, we both gasped—foreheads pressed together, mouths parted, like we couldn’t believe this was finally happening.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he groaned, rocking into me, his grip bruising on my hips. “So tight. So fucking mine right now.”

I clawed at his back, biting down on a moan as he pushed deeper, slower, dragging every sound he wanted from me.

“You like it messy, huh?” he murmured, voice hot against my ear. “Books on the floor, your legs wrapped around me, taking every inch like a good girl.”

I gasped, digging my nails into his skin. “You’re—ngh—such an asshole.”

He chuckled, breath ragged. “And you’re gonna come all over my dick anyway.”

God help me, I was.

 His hands, his mouth, his voice in my ear saying everything I didn’t know I needed to hear.

“Let go,” he said, thrusting deeper, “Come for me. Make a fucking mess of this desk, sweetheart.”

And I did.

Hard.

Everything shattered—breath, thought and my body curling into his as he held me through it, kissing my shoulder, my jaw, murmuring, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

He came right after, groaning into my skin, pulling me down with him into a heap of tangled limbs and breathless laughter.

We stayed like that for a long minute—skin slick, hearts racing, the outline forgotten, pages scattered like snow around us.

He kissed the top of my shoulder and whispered, “We should really finish that presentation.”

I huffed. “You ruined my books. This is war.”

He laughed, pulling me closer. “Then let’s call it makeup sex later.

fin

© 2025 gyunotes