songhayoungie

[songhayoungie]

27 with Jake and he does that he tells you to 17 on him🎀

sweet tooth - sjy (m)

#27: He’s obsessed with your boobs, insists on sucking them every night like he needs them to fall asleep. + #17: Making you cum twice on his fingers before even unzipping his pants. · prompt req list

‼️ tw: breast/nipple play, breast worship, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, praise, slight roughness, minimal swearing, very soft aftercare, dom!jake x sub!reader, basically jake being obsessed with ur boobs - ✉️ wc 1489

You had been dating Jake for a few months before you ever let him see you fully. It was a mix of nerves and stubbornness — you weren’t insecure exactly, but you didn’t think your body would knock anyone speechless either. Which was why when the night finally came, when you finally tugged your shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor, you refused to look him in the eye.

There was a long beat of silence.

Then Jake’s voice, soft and awed, cut through the air.

“You’re beautiful,” he said simply. Like it was the easiest truth in the world.

When you finally glanced up at him, cheeks burning, Jake was staring right at your chest — wide-eyed, a little stunned, like he was seeing the sun for the first time. It should have been embarrassing. Instead, it made something flutter deep in your stomach.

From that night on, Jake made it a mission to touch you as much as possible.

At first it was subtle — his hand would sneak under your hoodie when you were curled up watching movies together, palm warm and lazy over your breast, thumb stroking absentminded circles. Then it got bolder. He’d backhug you in the kitchen when you were trying to cook, hands sliding up your body to cup and squeeze, murmuring how good you felt against him. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night to find him latched onto you, half-asleep, nuzzling into your chest like it was his own personal pillow.

And he always wanted more.

Tonight was no different.

You barely made it through brushing your teeth before Jake was pulling you onto the bed, tugging you into his lap like he couldn’t stand to be apart for another second. His mouth found your neck first, lazy kisses trailing over your skin, before his hands snuck under your oversized T-shirt, kneading slow and firm.

“You’re obsessed,” you teased, breath hitching when his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

Jake only grinned against your collarbone.

“Yeah?” he murmured, teeth lightly scraping. “And whose fault is that, baby?”

You giggled, squirming a little in his lap, but Jake wasn’t letting you go. He tugged your shirt up and over your head in one smooth move, tossing it somewhere behind him. His hands were back instantly, cupping your breasts like they were made for him, thumbs flicking over your nipples until they stiffened under his touch.

Jake leaned back slightly, letting his gaze wander over you — greedy and worshipful all at once.

“Never getting tired of these,” he said, a little hoarsely. Then, almost to himself, “So fuckin’ pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your face heat up, but it only got worse when Jake leaned in and latched onto one nipple, sucking slow and deep.

“Jake—” you gasped, threading your fingers through his hair.

He hummed against your skin, sending vibrations straight through your chest. His hand kneaded the other breast while his mouth worshiped you — tongue flicking, lips sealing, sucking like he needed it to breathe. Every slow pull had heat coiling low in your belly, your thighs pressing together for friction.

You were panting by the time he finally pulled away, lips shiny, eyes dark.

“You’re already worked up,” he said, cocky but sweet, nipping lightly at the underside of your breast.

“I can’t help it,” you whined, tilting your hips against his thigh instinctively.

Jake grinned.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you come until you give me two.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he flipped you onto your back and settled between your thighs. His fingers found your underwear and slid them down your legs slowly, teasingly. Then, without warning, two fingers slid between your folds, rubbing slow, wet circles over your clit.

You jolted, a cry ripping from your throat.

“Fuck, you’re soaked already,” Jake said, almost admiringly. “All from me, huh?”

You nodded frantically, hips chasing his touch. It was humiliating how fast you were falling apart, how easily he could unravel you with just his fingers.

He slid two fingers inside you, curling expertly, hitting that spot that made your legs tremble.

“Jake—” you gasped, nails digging into the sheets.

“Shh,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh. “Gotta be patient, baby. I’m gonna make you cum twice before I even think about fucking you.”

He kept a steady pace, fingers thrusting deep and firm, thumb circling your clit in time. You were shaking within minutes, thighs trying to close around his wrist, pleasure building sharper and sharper until—

“Jake, I—!” you sobbed, clenching down around his fingers as your first orgasm hit, ripping through you in waves.

Jake didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to keep you from overstimulating completely, but kept his fingers moving — teasing, coaxing — drawing soft whines and cries from your lips.

“You can give me another one,” he whispered, voice dark and low. “I know you can.”

He rubbed your clit a little harder, thrusting deeper, and you couldn’t hold back — the second orgasm hit even harder, your back arching off the bed, mouth falling open in a broken scream.

Jake finally pulled his hand away, glistening with your release, and kissed your stomach soothingly.

“Good girl,” he praised, tugging down his sweats with his free hand. His cock was hard and leaking against his stomach, and he groaned when he finally freed it. “Fuck, baby, you have no idea what you do to me.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was lining himself up, sliding the tip through your dripping folds.

“Ready for me?” he asked, voice rough.

You whimpered a yes, and he pushed in slowly, finally giving you everything you’d been aching for — thick and deep and perfect.

And the whole time, even while fucking you senseless, Jake kept cupping your chest, mouthing at your nipples, like he couldn’t possibly get enough.

Jake moved inside you with slow, grinding thrusts, never once taking his hands or mouth off your chest. He squeezed and kneaded your breasts greedily, like he couldn’t get enough, lowering his head to suck a nipple into his mouth again, moaning low at the feeling.

“You’re so soft,” he muttered against your skin, dragging his tongue in slow circles around your nipple before sucking harder. “Could live with these in my mouth every night.”

You whimpered, arching into him, feeling your body tighten from the constant stimulation. Every deep thrust of his hips pressed you further into the mattress, and every greedy tug of his mouth sent fresh waves of heat pooling between your legs.

When he finally released your nipple with a wet pop, his hand replaced his mouth — thumb flicking over the swollen peak — while he kissed a messy trail across your chest to the other side. His fingers massaged the soft flesh firmly, squeezing, tugging just enough to make you gasp.

“Jake, please,” you cried out, voice breaking.

He just smiled, latching onto your other nipple with a low groan like he was starving. His hips started moving faster, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing in the room, your breasts bouncing slightly with every rough thrust. Jake made sure to grab them again, holding them steady, thumbs brushing over your nipples every time he drove deeper into you.

“You look so good like this,” he panted against your chest. “So fucking pretty… bouncing on my cock, tits out for me.”

You keened, barely able to form words anymore, nails digging into his back as you clung to him.

Jake’s mouth returned to your breast, sucking hard, and at the same time, he snuck a hand between your bodies to rub fast, messy circles over your clit.

“You’re close again, huh?” he said, voice muffled against your skin. “Gonna cum all over me while I suck your pretty tits?”

You could only nod, babbling nonsense as your whole body trembled, pleasure crashing through you like a wave. Your walls clenched down around him, and Jake groaned loudly, snapping his hips harder through your orgasm.

He didn’t stop — not until you were writhing under him, oversensitive and gasping for air. He kept rubbing your clit, kept thrusting, kept mouthing at your chest like he was completely addicted to the feel of you.

You sobbed his name, nails raking down his back, and that was all it took for Jake to spill inside you with a guttural curse, hips jerking a few more times before he slumped over you, breathless.

Even then, he didn’t let go of your chest — his hand lazily cupping you while he caught his breath, his mouth brushing kisses over your sensitive skin.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, kissing the curve of your breast. “So, so perfect. Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

He stayed buried deep inside you, holding you close, his hand resting protectively over your chest like it belonged there. And somehow, it felt like it did.

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more ��� needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

can I request 38. Smut with Jake but they both use toys to pleasure themselves 😫🙏🙏🙏🙏

until I break - sjy (m)

#38: You’re both too riled up to wait—so you sit across from each other, eyes locked, touching yourselves until one of you breaks first.

pairing: Jake x reader - prompt request list - ✉️ wc. 840

‼️tw: mutual masturbation, sex toys (dildo, fleshlight), phone sex, dirty talk, explicit language, crying from pleasure, long-distance relationship

You were frustrated.

Frustrated and aching, lying back against your pillows, a toy buzzing between your legs but doing absolutely nothing to scratch the itch clawing under your skin.

You missed him too much.

It was different now — now that Jake was gone, thousands of miles away back in Australia, you couldn’t just crawl into his arms. Couldn’t just bury your face in his neck and let him take care of you the way only he knew how.

The ache wouldn’t go away.

Biting your lip, desperate, you tossed the toy aside and grabbed your phone instead. Fingers trembling a little, you hit Jake’s contact before you could overthink it.

The phone barely rang once before he answered.

“Hey, baby,” Jake said, voice all soft and smiling like he’d been waiting for your call. “You okay?”

You shivered at the sound, thighs rubbing together unconsciously.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I just… missed you. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said immediately, his voice soothing and warm. “Tell me about your day.”

You picked up the toy again, this time pressing it inside — slow, needy — as Jake’s voice washed over you. It wasn’t enough. You needed more — needed him — but you were too embarrassed to say it.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, hips starting to rock, trying to match the rhythm of his voice.

Jake chuckled a little, amused. “Okay… uh, I woke up early today. Took Layla for a walk by the beach. Thought about you the whole time. Wish you were there.”

You whimpered quietly, moving faster now, cheeks burning with need.

Jake’s voice softened, like he heard it. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you lied, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip to keep from making too much noise. “Just… don’t stop. Please.”

There was a pause.

A slow, knowing pause.

“…Baby,” Jake said, voice suddenly low and rough. “Are you… are you touching yourself right now?”

You froze, mortified.

But before you could deny it, he exhaled sharply — not mad, not teasing — just wrecked.

“God,” Jake muttered. “You’re bouncing on that toy, aren’t you?”

Your thighs clenched tighter around the toy, hips grinding down helplessly.

“Answer me, pretty girl,” he whispered. “I wanna hear you.”

You let out a tiny whimper, shame curling in your stomach. “Y-Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m trying but it’s not enough. I miss you too much.”

Jake groaned low, the sound crackling through the speaker. You heard a shuffle — him moving fast — and then a drawer opening on his side of the call.

“Hold on, baby,” he said, a little breathless. “Gimme a second.”

You barely had time to register it before you heard it — the soft, slick sound of Jake grabbing his fleshlight, the toy he had teased you about before but never actually used when you were on the call.

Until now.

“You made me like this,” he said roughly, and you could hear the way his hand shook a little setting it up. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.”

You whimpered again, fingers tightening around your own toy, hips rocking harder as you imagined him — messy hair, flushed cheeks, panting into the phone while he thrust into it.

“Touch your clit for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “Rub it nice and slow, just like I would. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see, fumbling to obey. The second your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your back arching.

“That’s it, angel,” Jake murmured, and you could hear the faint wet slap of him thrusting into the toy now, getting louder by the second. “Wish I could see you. Wish I could grab you by the hips and make you ride me instead.”

You whimpered loudly, the image too much to handle.

“You sound so pretty,” Jake continued, voice rough. “Bet you look even prettier falling apart without me.”

You moved faster, whimpering into the phone, the sound of Jake’s breathing getting heavier too, matching yours. His soft grunts and whispered curses filled the line.

“Faster, baby,” he urged. “You can do it. Wanna hear you lose it for me.”

It didn’t take long after that.

You came with a sharp cry, gasping his name, legs trembling, the toy falling out of you as you collapsed against the bed. A second later, you heard Jake groan — low and broken — and then the wet squelch of him finishing, the toy dropping onto the bed beside him.

For a few seconds, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the connection between you.

Then Jake spoke again, voice soft and wrecked.

“I wanna book a flight,” he said. “I need you.”

You laughed, breathless, heart thudding. “Hurry.”

“I will,” he promised. “Just stay on the line a little longer, okay? Wanna fall asleep with you.”

You smiled through the haze of pleasure, curling under your blankets, the phone pressed to your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

prompt request list

[songhayoungie]

JAKE WHEN HES JEALOUS AND HE LEAVES A BUNCH OF MARKS ON YOU PUHLEASEEE 🙏🙏

let me in (20cm deeper) - sjy

pairing: jake x reader

synopsis: He wasn’t supposed to care—but one jealous glance, one reckless FaceTime call mid-thrust, and now he’s fucking you like he needs the whole world to know you’re his. ✉️ 2144wc - tw ‼️ jealousy, possessiveness, oral (f receiving), rough sex, marking, face sitting, name kink, phone sex, humiliation, choking (light), degradation, creampie, overstimulation, praise kink, dom!jake

💌 mark me up and I’ll show up to uni the next day without a doubt 😵 pookie I love ur reqs sm send more 😘

He wasn’t supposed to care. That was the rule—his own rule. The one he made the first night he kissed you with too much tongue and not enough thought, when the two of you stumbled into your bedroom half-laughing, half-buzzed, and fully aware that this couldn’t mean anything. You were friends. Good friends. He liked your company, liked your voice when you read texts aloud with dumb impressions, liked how you made taking vitamins feel like a shared inside joke instead of a self-imposed regimen. But that was all it was supposed to be.

Until it wasn’t.

It started with something stupid—an Instagram story, of all things. Jake had opened his phone during a water break at the gym, wiping sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt when he saw it. A boomerang. You. Smiling. Head tilted toward someone else. A guy. The caption was harmless—he’s so funny lol—but Jake felt his throat tighten.

He made it through the rest of his workout on autopilot, pushing harder than usual, muscles screaming for rest while his thoughts spiraled. You weren’t even doing anything wrong. You weren’t his. He wasn’t yours. But the image played over and over again in his head: you laughing like that at someone else’s jokes, leaning into their shoulder, letting them have the version of you Jake thought was just his for a little while.

And then you texted.

come over later?

i got wine and that ice cream u like 😋

Jake stared at your message for a full five minutes, heart thudding hard against his chest. His first instinct was to say no, to pull back and cool off, to remind himself of his stupid rules about boundaries and keeping things clean. But then he remembered your smile in that photo, how open and easy it looked.

He texted back.

be there in 15

He didn’t take his usual post-gym ginseng shot. Didn’t do his skincare. Didn’t even double-check his weekly checklist of personal goals.

Because suddenly, all Jake could think about was making sure you remembered exactly who you belonged to tonight.

You open the door barefoot and braless, wearing one of those oversized shirts that barely covers your thighs—probably on purpose. Jake knows you. You’re not oblivious. You know exactly what you do to him when you act like this: all casual and sweet and soft, like you’re not the same person who had their head on someone else’s shoulder earlier.

“Hey,” you say like nothing happened, already turning back toward the kitchen. “I opened the red. Wanna pour?”

He follows silently, eyes on the curve of your legs as you walk. There’s music playing—something soft and lazy—and he realizes it’s the kind of song people play on dates. Candlelight flickers on the counter. You always keep it cozy when he comes over, but tonight it feels too intentional. Too romantic.

He wonders if the other guy saw you like this.

Jake doesn’t say much as you hand him a glass of wine. He doesn’t joke around like he usually does. He just leans against the counter, swirling the drink, pretending not to watch the way you sip yours with a slight smirk.

“So,” you start, licking a drop of wine from your lip, “what’s with the face? You look like you benched your personal best and didn’t get praised for it.”

His jaw ticks. “Saw your story.”

Your brows lift. “What, the one with Yena’s party?”

Jake hums, gaze dropping to your bare thighs. “Yeah. That one.”

You lean a little closer, head tilting. “He’s just a friend, Jake. You jealous or something?”

There it is. The spark. The dangerous one.

Jake sets his wine down with a quiet clink. “No,” he lies, voice low and clipped. “Just curious why he’s got you laughing like that. I don’t remember you looking that happy the last time I made you come.”

The air thickens. Your smile falters for half a second, like you weren’t expecting him to be that blunt. Then it returns—slow, calculated. You set your wine down too, stepping between his legs where he leans against the counter.

“You could fix that,” you whisper. “If you want.”

Jake stares at you for a long, long moment. Every disciplined bone in his body screams at him to slow down, to play it cool, to not let you see how tightly he’s wound. But you’re close now. Too close. And your skin smells like warm sugar and sin.

And in this moment, with your mouth inches from his and your thigh brushing his jeans—Jake doesn’t want to be responsible. He just wants you wrecked and shaking, begging for the man you almost forgot was yours.

Jake doesn’t kiss you gently. He crashes into you like a dam finally bursting, months of restraint swept away in one hard press of his mouth. His hands find your waist, then your hips, then the backs of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter like you weigh nothing. The wine glasses clink behind you, forgotten. Your shirt rides up, and Jake’s lips never leave yours—just grow hungrier, messier, more desperate.

“You drive me insane,” he murmurs against your skin, trailing kisses down your neck, biting harder with each inch. “Walking around like this… smiling like that… for someone else.”

Your breath catches when his teeth graze the base of your neck. “He didn’t even—”

“Don’t care,” Jake growls, already sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat. “You’re mine when I’m here. You get that?”

You nod, already breathless, already aching. His hands slip beneath your shirt—warm, rough, and intent—and you gasp when he pulls it over your head in one smooth motion. He doesn’t give you time to feel shy. Doesn’t even pause.

Instead, his mouth is everywhere at once—on your collarbone, between your breasts, down your stomach. Each kiss is matched with a mark. Sharp nips that bloom into bruises. His tongue soothes them after, but it’s all part of the same rhythm: claim, soothe, repeat.

“Jake,” you whimper, squirming as he pulls your thighs apart with an easy grip. “You’re being—”

“Thorough,” he finishes, looking up at you from between your legs, eyes dark with jealousy and heat. “You let someone else make you laugh. I’m gonna remind you who makes you scream.”

And then his mouth is on you. Hot, focused, relentless. You grab at his hair, already trembling from how fast he has you unraveling—but he doesn’t stop. His grip tightens on your hips when you try to close your thighs. He growls against you when you arch your back. And when your voice cracks on his name, he moans like he’s starving for the sound.

By the time he pulls away, your thighs are shaking, your breath ragged. His chin glistens and his shirt is wrinkled from how hard you clung to him. And you’re already marked—neck, chest, thighs. Painted in him.

Your legs are still shaking when he stands back up, hands splayed on your thighs, eyes dark and heavy-lidded as they rake over your flushed skin. You expect him to kiss you again, but he doesn’t—not right away. Instead, he just looks at you for a second. Really looks. Like he’s memorizing the sight of you—lips parted, chest rising, already marked all over with proof of him. Then he breathes out hard and reaches down to undo his belt.

The sound of it slipping through the loops is enough to make your stomach flutter.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he mutters, tugging his jeans and boxers down just enough, his cock already hard and leaking. “Not until I’m done.”

You barely have time to nod before he’s pulling you to the edge of the counter, lining himself up between your thighs. One hand grabs your waist—firm, possessive—the other wraps around the back of your neck, keeping your face close to his.

“Look at me,” he whispers, pushing in slow. “Every second of this.”

You cry out, hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in as he stretches you. You’ve done this before—more than once—but it still knocks the air from your lungs. He’s thick, and he knows it, knows exactly how to make it burn just a little, how to pause halfway in so you feel every inch. Your walls flutter around him, body struggling to take it.

“Too much?” Jake’s voice is low but strained, jaw clenched as he waits. You nod and whimper, biting your lip, and he dips forward to kiss your temple, whispering, “You’ve got it. I’ve got you. You can take it.”

He pushes the rest of the way in and holds himself there, buried deep, letting you cling to him while your body adjusts. When you moan into his neck, hips twitching, Jake groans low in his throat.

“You feel so good like this,” he growls, voice roughened by restraint. “Tight… soft… mine.”

Then he starts to move—slow, deep thrusts that make the counter creak beneath you. His grip stays locked on your waist as he sets a pace that has your head falling back, cries tumbling from your lips with each push. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the kitchen, messy and raw, and Jake just keeps going—driving into you like he’s making a point.

“You don’t need anyone else,” he breathes into your ear. “I give you everything you need, don’t I?”

“Y-Yeah,” you gasp.

“Say it.”

“You do, Jake—fuck—only you.”

That pulls a growl from his chest. His mouth is back on your neck, tongue and teeth working over fresh skin, leaving new bruises over the ones that haven’t faded yet.

And when he comes—deep inside you, buried to the hilt—he doesn’t stop whispering your name like it’s a promise.

You’re already wrecked. Your cheek sticks to the counter, lips swollen from biting down on them, and your thighs shake every time Jake thrusts back into you. He hasn’t let up—not even a little—his cock buried deep, stretching you over and over with a punishing rhythm that’s more about proving something than just pleasure. And it’s working. You’re dripping. Whimpering. Ruined.

Then you feel the shift. Jake leans forward, still fucking into you, and you hear the soft beep of your phone unlocking.

“What are you doing?” you manage to whisper, voice broken, barely hanging on.

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t have to. Because a second later, the FaceTime ring starts, loud and clear, vibrating right on the counter next to your face.

Your eyes snap open. “Jake, no—”

“Too late,” he grits, one hand curling around your hip, the other holding the phone up high enough to show everything. “He wanted your attention, didn’t he? Let’s give it to him.”

The screen flashes—connected.

And there he is. The guy from the night before. Confused, then wide-eyed, horrified.

Jake doesn’t stop thrusting. In fact, he slows down just a little, dragging each movement out, your slickness obscene in the quiet between the heavy sound of skin and your shaky moans.

“She’s a little busy right now,” Jake says, voice low and smug. “Thought you’d want to see what that laugh of hers really sounds like when it’s real.”

The guy stammers. “What the fuck—“

“Say hi, baby,” Jake murmurs, grabbing your jaw and angling your face toward the screen.

You don’t speak, but the moan that spills from your lips as he hits your spot again—that says enough.

Jake tilts the phone lower, angling it to show your trembling legs, the marks he’s left all over your skin, the way your body clings to him with every thrust. “You watching? You get it now?”

You swear you see him end the call out of panic—or maybe disgust. Either way, Jake tosses the phone aside the second the screen goes dark. His hand is back on your hip in a flash, grip brutal now as he fucks into you harder.

“Mine,” he growls. “All fucking mine.”

And this time when you cum, it’s not from his hands or his mouth or even his words.

It’s the thrill of being seen.

You wake up slow, your limbs heavy and sore, skin warm under the covers. The sunlight leaking in through the blinds feels too bright, too real, like it has no business touching a body that still belongs to the night before.

Your throat’s dry, your thighs ache, and every small movement reminds you of exactly where his hands were—how many times he pulled you apart and put you back together. You shift with a soft whimper, the soreness between your legs blooming deeper, and instinctively tug the blanket tighter around your chest.

That’s when you see it.

The marks.

Everywhere.

Faint bruises along your hips, scattered bites on your thighs, faded red fingerprints at your waist. There’s one on your collarbone, dark and angry, shaped like his mouth. And on your inner thigh, dangerously close to somewhere far more sensitive, his name. Sloppily written in deep purple hickeys.

You press your legs together and bite your lip, heart stuttering as the memory floods in—Jake’s voice, low and angry; his pace, rough and punishing; the look on his face when he hung up that FaceTime call like he had won something.

Because he had.

You hear him before you see him—soft footsteps, the clink of something ceramic. And then the door creaks open.

Jake steps in with messy hair, sleepy eyes, and a mug in each hand. He’s wearing only sweats, slung low on his hips, and his chest still has faint scratch marks from your nails. When he sees you awake, he grins—sleepy, soft, like he didn’t completely ruin you just a few hours ago.

“Mornin’,” he says, offering a mug. “You’re gonna need water too. You passed out right after…”

You take the drink without answering, eyes still locked on the hickeys.

He notices.

Jake sets his mug down, comes to sit on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing over your thigh. “Sorry,” he murmurs, sounding not sorry at all. “Got a little carried away.”

You glare at him half-heartedly. “You FaceTimed him.”

His smirk is immediate. “And he answered.”

You groan, covering your face. “Jake.”

“Hey,” he says gently, prying your hands away. His thumb grazes your cheek. “He needed to see it. I needed him to see it.”

You don’t respond. You don’t need to. Because when Jake leans down and kisses the mark on your neck like it’s sacred—when his lips brush over bruised skin like he’s trying to apologize without saying the words—you realize something else:

It’s not just about jealousy.

It’s about you.

You, and how he’s terrified of losing what you are—even if it means making the whole damn world watch him prove it.

wanna read my longer ffs? Check out @shy9-29 || prompt list request

[songhayoungie]

GIVING HEESEUNG VIAGRA WHEN HE RATER FOCUSES ON HIS GAME THAN ON YOU (it’s not a want, it’s a need.)

and ends up overstimulating you 😜

hard mode activated - lhs (m)

lee heeseung x reader

When your gamer boyfriend keeps ignoring you for his ranked matches, you slip him something to make sure he never forgets who’s really in control—turns out, three rounds later, neither of you are logging off anytime soon. ✉️ wc 1968 - tw ‼️ drug use (Viagra without consent), dubcon, rough sex, degradation, overstimulation, possessiveness, car sex, masturbation, light manipulation, inexperienced reader, breeding kink, praise kink, spanking

📝: this trope is so fun like guys I’m more important. Genre: smut, romance, comedy, slight angst, gamer!AU, modern AU, established relationship, chaotic energy.

“NO—Jake, you missed! What the hell are you doing, bro?!”

Heeseung’s voice is sharp, almost panicked as he throws himself back in his gaming chair, headset slightly askew, fingers tapping violently at the keyboard like it might help him recover from whatever in-game disaster just happened.

You blink at him from the bed, legs crossed, wearing his hoodie and literally nothing else, but he doesn’t even glance your way.

“Are you seriously yelling at Jake right now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“He sold the push!” Heeseung says like that’s supposed to make sense, eyes glued to his screen. “We had it, and then he ran past the stun grenade like an idiot— wait wait wait, I gotta rotate—!”

You push off the bed and pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. You know exactly how warm your skin is, how exposed your thighs are when you bend forward just slightly—but he’s still locked in.

“Hee,” you murmur against his ear, swaying a little. “Let me play a round.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not good at this game,” he says, dead serious, not even trying to be mean—just brutally honest as he adjusts his headset again. “You get motion sick and then you shoot the wall.”

You blink.

Hard.

“Wow. Okay. Rude.”

“I’m just being honest, babe,” he mumbles, eyes still scanning the screen. “It’s fine. You’re good at other things.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” he says. “Like… being pretty?”

Heeseung’s never looked away from his screen.

Not once.

You stare at the back of his head for a solid five seconds, arms still wrapped around him.

He doesn’t even notice the silence.

And that’s when something shifts in your brain.

You smile slowly, fingers trailing down to his chest. “You thirsty?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “Grab me water?”

“Sure.”

You disappear into the kitchen.

And you come back with a water bottle.

But you also come back with a plan.

Heeseung leans back in his chair, headset slipping slightly as he swipes at the sweat gathering on the back of his neck.

Weird.

It wasn’t even hot a second ago.

He adjusts his grip on the mouse, trying to focus. The screen’s still flashing red from the last round. He barely caught the kill cam because your arms were around him, your voice all soft in his ear, and then the way you smiled when he said you weren’t good at the game—it made something twist in his chest.

Now you were gone, and everything felt… weirdly quiet.

Too quiet.

“So… who was that?” Jake’s voice cracks through the headset like a bullet.

Heeseung blinks. “What?”

“Just now. The voice. Sounded like someone was clinging to you mid-match.”

“Oh,” Heeseung clears his throat and taps at his keyboard. “It was just Y/N.”

Jake makes a noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, man,” Jake chuckles. “Just didn’t think she was real for a second. You always talk about her like she’s some imaginary girlfriend—‘She’s cute,’ ‘She plays sometimes,’ ‘She made me snacks,’—but I’ve never actually heard her.”

Heeseung frowns. “She is real.”

“Sure she is, bro,” Jake says with a teasing tone. “Although I gotta say, she didn’t sound too happy when you told her she sucked.”

“I didn’t say she sucked,” Heeseung mutters, eyes narrowing at the screen. “I just said she gets motion sick and shoots walls.”

Jake laughs louder now. “Romantic. No wonder she left.”

Heeseung leans back again, shifting in his seat. His whole body is starting to feel tense—tight in ways he’s never felt during a game before. Like every layer of clothing is too warm. His joggers are clinging. The waistband is digging. And his thighs—

He shifts again, more aggressively this time.

“What the—ugh,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His neck is red. His cheeks too. Something’s wrong.

“Hyung,” Jake says slowly. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung says quickly, voice cracking a little. “Just—it’s really warm in here. I think—maybe I need a break.”

“You? Take a break from ranked?” Jake sounds like he’s about to faint. “Nah, something’s off. Did Y/N mess with you or something?”

Heeseung’s about to laugh it off—say no, of course not—but then he remembers your smile.

That soft “Sure” when he asked for water.

And the way you walked out without a word.

“…I think she did.”

Heeseung yanks the headset off with one hand and slams it onto the desk, jaw tight, breath uneven.

His palms are sweating.

His heart is pounding.

And his cock is aching—harder than it’s ever been in his life, straining against his sweats so much it hurts.

He didn’t even realize it at first—just thought the heat was from the game. But now it’s undeniable. His skin is burning. His whole body’s flushed. And his mind is clouded with one name.

“Y/N,” he growls, standing up so fast the chair wheels screech against the floor.

You’re on the bed.

Phone in hand.

Legs stretched out, innocent as ever like you didn’t just ruin his game and drug him with a freaking hard-on pill.

Heeseung stares at you, pupils blown.

You glance up. Smile.

“Done already?”

His jaw clenches.

“What did you give me?”

You blink, tilting your head. “Just water.”

“Y/N,” he says again, this time lower—deeper. “What did you put in it?”

You hum, pretending to think. “Something to help you focus.”

He’s across the room before you can blink.

Your phone flies out of your hand, tossed somewhere near the pillow, and suddenly you’re pinned flat against the mattress, wrists trapped above your head by one of his hands while the other grabs your thigh, forcing it open.

“Hee—” you gasp, wide-eyed.

“You ruined my game,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours, nose brushing your cheek as his hips slot between your legs. “I had my best K/D this week and you—you—decided to mess with me?”

“I just wanted attention,” you whisper.

“You could’ve said that without drugging me,” he mutters—but his voice is wrecked, his body betraying him, grinding down against your bare skin like he’s already too far gone.

You whimper when you feel it—how hard he is, how thick, how desperate he sounds trying not to lose it.

“You’re gonna fix this,” he whispers darkly, his lips brushing your ear. “All of it.”

You swallow. “How?”

He pulls back just enough to look at you—and the look in his eyes is lethal.

“You’re not leaving this bed until I come at least three times.”

His mouth crashes into yours—no warning, no patience. Just raw, teeth-clashing hunger.

His hands are all over you now, shaking with the effort of holding back, but still desperate to feel everything. Your hoodie rides up as he rips it higher, fingers digging into your hips so hard it leaves marks.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he mutters into your mouth. “You really drugged me just to make me touch you?”

You nod, dazed, already breathing heavy. “You were ignoring me.”

“And this is your solution?” he growls, grinding down into your core, his clothed cock dragging right against your heat. “This? Making me lose my damn mind while I’m on call with my team?”

You moan when he rolls his hips again—harder.

Heeseung groans, low and pained, like even that isn’t enough. “God, I feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ explode.”

Then he pulls back just enough to rip his hoodie off, exposing that unfairly pretty body you’ve been staring at all day. Pale skin flushed, chest rising fast.

He tugs at the waistband of your panties next—snaps them, actually, then pushes them down your legs in one rough sweep. They land somewhere on the floor.

And then he’s pushing your thighs apart, crawling between them like he owns you.

“You better remember this next time you try to pull shit like that,” he mutters, tugging his sweats just far enough down to free himself.

He’s thick—hard—already leaking at the tip, flushed red and twitching with need. It makes you gasp without meaning to, legs trying to close out of instinct.

Heeseung grabs your knees and shoves them wide open.

“Nope,” he hisses, lining himself up. “You started this. You’re taking it.”

And then he’s sliding in—too fast, too deep.

Your back arches immediately, breath catching.

“H-Heeseung—” you choke, the stretch overwhelming. “It hurts—”

His face falters for half a second, but his hands never stop moving—he’s pushing your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek, whispering, “Shh, I know, baby. I know. You’re just tight. It’s okay. You can take it.”

His hips grind down again, slower this time but still deep, and you whimper.

“You’re gonna take all of me, yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, voice suddenly soft again as he rocks into you. “Wanted this so bad you had to drug me for it… now you’re getting every inch.”

By the time he’s buried all the way inside you, your thighs are shaking, your head tipped back, and you’re gasping like you’ve just been pulled under.

Heeseung isn’t faring much better.

His jaw is tight, his brows drawn together, body trembling with restraint. Every roll of his hips makes his breath stutter—but he doesn’t stop. Not when you whine his name, not when your nails drag down his back, and definitely not when your walls clench around him so tight he groans, loud and broken.

You feel it when he starts to lose rhythm—hips jerking harder, messier, as the high claws its way up his spine. “Fuck—fuck, I’m—”

“Inside,” you breathe, nails gripping his arms. “Inside, please—”

His groan splits through the air.

He presses his mouth to your neck, moaning as he throbs inside you, warmth spreading deep with each pulse of his release. You both freeze for a moment, panting hard, your legs wrapped around his waist like you never want him to pull out.

But then—

Heeseung doesn’t move.

Not really.

He stays inside, chest pressed to yours, still twitching. His hips shift slightly.

And then again.

You flinch. “Hee—w-wait—”

He lifts his head.

And when he looks at you this time, his eyes are darker. Hungrier. Like something else just snapped.

“You thought one round would be enough?” he asks, voice low and wrecked, cock still hard inside you. “You gave me viagra, Y/N.”

Your mouth opens—but nothing comes out.

Heeseung leans down, kisses you slow, then starts thrusting again. No break.

“We’re not done,” he whispers. “Not even close.”

“You’re shaking already,” Heeseung murmurs against your lips, voice thick and low as he rolls his hips into you again—slow and deep.

You let out a sob, nails digging into his back. “It’s too much—”

He doesn’t stop.

Instead, he groans softly, forehead resting against yours as he keeps moving. Every stroke is deliberate now—sliding in deep, grinding against every sensitive spot until you’re gasping and arching into him again.

“You really thought you could drug me,” he whispers, “and this wouldn’t happen?”

You whimper, hips twitching under his grip. “I-I just wanted you—”

“You have me.” His voice drops. “All of me.”

One hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit—rubbing slow circles while he keeps fucking into you like he’s trying to brand you from the inside out.

Your back arches off the bed. “H-Hee—!”

He chuckles, soft but breathless, hips never faltering. “Too much? But you were so confident earlier,” he says, kissing along your jaw. “Now look at you. Messy little thing, can’t even keep your legs still.”

You can’t.

They’re trembling, clenching around his waist, your whole body locking up each time his cock presses into that sweet, overstimulated spot inside you.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he groans. “Can’t wait to hear you again when you fall apart.”

You’re already close.

Too close.

Heeseung feels it—your walls tightening, your moans slipping higher.

So he slows down more.

Keeps you right there, teetering.

Your eyes well up with frustrated tears. “Please—Hee, please—!”

He presses a kiss to your lips. “Beg for it.”

You nod fast, desperate. “Please, Heeseung—I need it, I need to come, I—”

“You’re gonna come with me this time,” he breathes. “So you feel it. Every last drop.”

Then he slams into you again.

Your whole body jerks—and this time when you come, it’s full-body, trembling, breathless, tears slipping from your eyes as he groans into your neck and follows right after, spilling deep inside you again with a shaky, “Fuck, baby—god, you’re perfect—”

You both collapse, sweaty and gasping.

He’s still inside you.

And still not softening.

You’re breathless under him, skin flushed and sticky, legs barely able to stay open—and still, Heeseung doesn’t move to pull out.

He’s staring at you, chest heaving, cock twitching inside your overstimulated walls.

“Still so fucking tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’re not even trying to push me away…”

Your lips part, dazed. “You’re still hard…”

Heeseung leans down, brushing your sweat-slick hair off your forehead. “I told you—this wasn’t over.”

And then he pulls out.

Only to flip you over onto your stomach with no warning.

You let out a shocked gasp, face pressing into the sheets, hips lifted by his hands until you’re on your knees, your ass in the air.

He spreads you open, slow—gentle, almost reverent—but there’s a wildness in his breathing. A quiet groan slips from his throat when he sees how messy you are, dripping and puffy from two rounds of being stuffed full.

Then his voice drops, deeper, darker.

“You look ruined.”

You whimper.

“But you’re gonna take me one more time, aren’t you?”

You nod helplessly. “Y-Yeah—”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and then he’s sliding back in from behind, slow and deep and mean, hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

You cry out, legs buckling, but his hands grip your hips tight—forcing you to stay still as he pounds into you again.

“Sound even prettier like this,” he groans, picking up the pace. “All wet and fucked-out and crying my name.”

“Feels too good—” you sob, biting down on the sheets. “H-Heeseung—”

“I know, baby. I know.” He sounds wrecked now, breath stuttering. “One more time. You’re gonna give me one more—come on, you can do it.”

You’re shaking, legs trembling, and when his hand snakes around to rub your clit again—you break.

You scream into the pillow as your third orgasm hits like a wave, clenching around him so tight he curses under his breath, hips stuttering.

“Fuckfuckfuck—”

Heeseung buries himself to the hilt one last time, groaning as he spills deep inside you again, pulsing hard while your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

When he finally stills, your body collapses under him, boneless and twitching, his weight sinking over your back as he pants against your shoulder.

Neither of you says a word for a moment.

Just your breathing.

Just the mess.

Just the sound of your heart pounding in sync.

[songhayoungie]

GIVING HEESEUNG VIAGRA WHEN HE RATER FOCUSES ON HIS GAME THAN ON YOU (it’s not a want, it’s a need.)

and ends up overstimulating you 😜

hard mode activated - lhs (m)

lee heeseung x reader

When your gamer boyfriend keeps ignoring you for his ranked matches, you slip him something to make sure he never forgets who’s really in control—turns out, three rounds later, neither of you are logging off anytime soon. ✉️ wc 1968 - tw ‼️ drug use (Viagra without consent), dubcon, rough sex, degradation, overstimulation, possessiveness, car sex, masturbation, light manipulation, inexperienced reader, breeding kink, praise kink, spanking

📝: this trope is so fun like guys I’m more important. Genre: smut, romance, comedy, slight angst, gamer!AU, modern AU, established relationship, chaotic energy.

“NO—Jake, you missed! What the hell are you doing, bro?!”

Heeseung’s voice is sharp, almost panicked as he throws himself back in his gaming chair, headset slightly askew, fingers tapping violently at the keyboard like it might help him recover from whatever in-game disaster just happened.

You blink at him from the bed, legs crossed, wearing his hoodie and literally nothing else, but he doesn’t even glance your way.

“Are you seriously yelling at Jake right now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“He sold the push!” Heeseung says like that’s supposed to make sense, eyes glued to his screen. “We had it, and then he ran past the stun grenade like an idiot— wait wait wait, I gotta rotate—!”

You push off the bed and pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. You know exactly how warm your skin is, how exposed your thighs are when you bend forward just slightly—but he’s still locked in.

“Hee,” you murmur against his ear, swaying a little. “Let me play a round.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not good at this game,” he says, dead serious, not even trying to be mean—just brutally honest as he adjusts his headset again. “You get motion sick and then you shoot the wall.”

You blink.

Hard.

“Wow. Okay. Rude.”

“I’m just being honest, babe,” he mumbles, eyes still scanning the screen. “It’s fine. You’re good at other things.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” he says. “Like… being pretty?”

Heeseung’s never looked away from his screen.

Not once.

You stare at the back of his head for a solid five seconds, arms still wrapped around him.

He doesn’t even notice the silence.

And that’s when something shifts in your brain.

You smile slowly, fingers trailing down to his chest. “You thirsty?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “Grab me water?”

“Sure.”

You disappear into the kitchen.

And you come back with a water bottle.

But you also come back with a plan.

Heeseung leans back in his chair, headset slipping slightly as he swipes at the sweat gathering on the back of his neck.

Weird.

It wasn’t even hot a second ago.

He adjusts his grip on the mouse, trying to focus. The screen’s still flashing red from the last round. He barely caught the kill cam because your arms were around him, your voice all soft in his ear, and then the way you smiled when he said you weren’t good at the game—it made something twist in his chest.

Now you were gone, and everything felt… weirdly quiet.

Too quiet.

“So… who was that?” Jake’s voice cracks through the headset like a bullet.

Heeseung blinks. “What?”

“Just now. The voice. Sounded like someone was clinging to you mid-match.”

“Oh,” Heeseung clears his throat and taps at his keyboard. “It was just Y/N.”

Jake makes a noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, man,” Jake chuckles. “Just didn’t think she was real for a second. You always talk about her like she’s some imaginary girlfriend—‘She’s cute,’ ‘She plays sometimes,’ ‘She made me snacks,’—but I’ve never actually heard her.”

Heeseung frowns. “She is real.”

“Sure she is, bro,” Jake says with a teasing tone. “Although I gotta say, she didn’t sound too happy when you told her she sucked.”

“I didn’t say she sucked,” Heeseung mutters, eyes narrowing at the screen. “I just said she gets motion sick and shoots walls.”

Jake laughs louder now. “Romantic. No wonder she left.”

Heeseung leans back again, shifting in his seat. His whole body is starting to feel tense—tight in ways he’s never felt during a game before. Like every layer of clothing is too warm. His joggers are clinging. The waistband is digging. And his thighs—

He shifts again, more aggressively this time.

“What the—ugh,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His neck is red. His cheeks too. Something’s wrong.

“Hyung,” Jake says slowly. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung says quickly, voice cracking a little. “Just—it’s really warm in here. I think—maybe I need a break.”

“You? Take a break from ranked?” Jake sounds like he’s about to faint. “Nah, something’s off. Did Y/N mess with you or something?”

Heeseung’s about to laugh it off—say no, of course not—but then he remembers your smile.

That soft “Sure” when he asked for water.

And the way you walked out without a word.

“…I think she did.”

Heeseung yanks the headset off with one hand and slams it onto the desk, jaw tight, breath uneven.

His palms are sweating.

His heart is pounding.

And his cock is aching—harder than it’s ever been in his life, straining against his sweats so much it hurts.

He didn’t even realize it at first—just thought the heat was from the game. But now it’s undeniable. His skin is burning. His whole body’s flushed. And his mind is clouded with one name.

“Y/N,” he growls, standing up so fast the chair wheels screech against the floor.

You’re on the bed.

Phone in hand.

Legs stretched out, innocent as ever like you didn’t just ruin his game and drug him with a freaking hard-on pill.

Heeseung stares at you, pupils blown.

You glance up. Smile.

“Done already?”

His jaw clenches.

“What did you give me?”

You blink, tilting your head. “Just water.”

“Y/N,” he says again, this time lower—deeper. “What did you put in it?”

You hum, pretending to think. “Something to help you focus.”

He’s across the room before you can blink.

Your phone flies out of your hand, tossed somewhere near the pillow, and suddenly you’re pinned flat against the mattress, wrists trapped above your head by one of his hands while the other grabs your thigh, forcing it open.

“Hee—” you gasp, wide-eyed.

“You ruined my game,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours, nose brushing your cheek as his hips slot between your legs. “I had my best K/D this week and you—you—decided to mess with me?”

“I just wanted attention,” you whisper.

“You could’ve said that without drugging me,” he mutters—but his voice is wrecked, his body betraying him, grinding down against your bare skin like he’s already too far gone.

You whimper when you feel it—how hard he is, how thick, how desperate he sounds trying not to lose it.

“You’re gonna fix this,” he whispers darkly, his lips brushing your ear. “All of it.”

You swallow. “How?”

He pulls back just enough to look at you—and the look in his eyes is lethal.

“You’re not leaving this bed until I come at least three times.”

His mouth crashes into yours—no warning, no patience. Just raw, teeth-clashing hunger.

His hands are all over you now, shaking with the effort of holding back, but still desperate to feel everything. Your hoodie rides up as he rips it higher, fingers digging into your hips so hard it leaves marks.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he mutters into your mouth. “You really drugged me just to make me touch you?”

You nod, dazed, already breathing heavy. “You were ignoring me.”

“And this is your solution?” he growls, grinding down into your core, his clothed cock dragging right against your heat. “This? Making me lose my damn mind while I’m on call with my team?”

You moan when he rolls his hips again—harder.

Heeseung groans, low and pained, like even that isn’t enough. “God, I feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ explode.”

Then he pulls back just enough to rip his hoodie off, exposing that unfairly pretty body you’ve been staring at all day. Pale skin flushed, chest rising fast.

He tugs at the waistband of your panties next—snaps them, actually, then pushes them down your legs in one rough sweep. They land somewhere on the floor.

And then he’s pushing your thighs apart, crawling between them like he owns you.

“You better remember this next time you try to pull shit like that,” he mutters, tugging his sweats just far enough down to free himself.

He’s thick—hard—already leaking at the tip, flushed red and twitching with need. It makes you gasp without meaning to, legs trying to close out of instinct.

Heeseung grabs your knees and shoves them wide open.

“Nope,” he hisses, lining himself up. “You started this. You’re taking it.”

And then he’s sliding in—too fast, too deep.

Your back arches immediately, breath catching.

“H-Heeseung—” you choke, the stretch overwhelming. “It hurts—”

His face falters for half a second, but his hands never stop moving—he’s pushing your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek, whispering, “Shh, I know, baby. I know. You’re just tight. It’s okay. You can take it.”

His hips grind down again, slower this time but still deep, and you whimper.

“You’re gonna take all of me, yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, voice suddenly soft again as he rocks into you. “Wanted this so bad you had to drug me for it… now you’re getting every inch.”

By the time he’s buried all the way inside you, your thighs are shaking, your head tipped back, and you’re gasping like you’ve just been pulled under.

Heeseung isn’t faring much better.

His jaw is tight, his brows drawn together, body trembling with restraint. Every roll of his hips makes his breath stutter—but he doesn’t stop. Not when you whine his name, not when your nails drag down his back, and definitely not when your walls clench around him so tight he groans, loud and broken.

You feel it when he starts to lose rhythm—hips jerking harder, messier, as the high claws its way up his spine. “Fuck—fuck, I’m—”

“Inside,” you breathe, nails gripping his arms. “Inside, please—”

His groan splits through the air.

He presses his mouth to your neck, moaning as he throbs inside you, warmth spreading deep with each pulse of his release. You both freeze for a moment, panting hard, your legs wrapped around his waist like you never want him to pull out.

But then—

Heeseung doesn’t move.

Not really.

He stays inside, chest pressed to yours, still twitching. His hips shift slightly.

And then again.

You flinch. “Hee—w-wait—”

He lifts his head.

And when he looks at you this time, his eyes are darker. Hungrier. Like something else just snapped.

“You thought one round would be enough?” he asks, voice low and wrecked, cock still hard inside you. “You gave me viagra, Y/N.”

Your mouth opens—but nothing comes out.

Heeseung leans down, kisses you slow, then starts thrusting again. No break.

“We’re not done,” he whispers. “Not even close.”

“You’re shaking already,” Heeseung murmurs against your lips, voice thick and low as he rolls his hips into you again—slow and deep.

You let out a sob, nails digging into his back. “It’s too much—”

He doesn’t stop.

Instead, he groans softly, forehead resting against yours as he keeps moving. Every stroke is deliberate now—sliding in deep, grinding against every sensitive spot until you’re gasping and arching into him again.

“You really thought you could drug me,” he whispers, “and this wouldn’t happen?”

You whimper, hips twitching under his grip. “I-I just wanted you—”

“You have me.” His voice drops. “All of me.”

One hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit—rubbing slow circles while he keeps fucking into you like he’s trying to brand you from the inside out.

Your back arches off the bed. “H-Hee—!”

He chuckles, soft but breathless, hips never faltering. “Too much? But you were so confident earlier,” he says, kissing along your jaw. “Now look at you. Messy little thing, can’t even keep your legs still.”

You can’t.

They’re trembling, clenching around his waist, your whole body locking up each time his cock presses into that sweet, overstimulated spot inside you.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he groans. “Can’t wait to hear you again when you fall apart.”

You’re already close.

Too close.

Heeseung feels it—your walls tightening, your moans slipping higher.

So he slows down more.

Keeps you right there, teetering.

Your eyes well up with frustrated tears. “Please—Hee, please—!”

He presses a kiss to your lips. “Beg for it.”

You nod fast, desperate. “Please, Heeseung—I need it, I need to come, I—”

“You’re gonna come with me this time,” he breathes. “So you feel it. Every last drop.”

Then he slams into you again.

Your whole body jerks—and this time when you come, it’s full-body, trembling, breathless, tears slipping from your eyes as he groans into your neck and follows right after, spilling deep inside you again with a shaky, “Fuck, baby—god, you’re perfect—”

You both collapse, sweaty and gasping.

He’s still inside you.

And still not softening.

You’re breathless under him, skin flushed and sticky, legs barely able to stay open—and still, Heeseung doesn’t move to pull out.

He’s staring at you, chest heaving, cock twitching inside your overstimulated walls.

“Still so fucking tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’re not even trying to push me away…”

Your lips part, dazed. “You’re still hard…”

Heeseung leans down, brushing your sweat-slick hair off your forehead. “I told you—this wasn’t over.”

And then he pulls out.

Only to flip you over onto your stomach with no warning.

You let out a shocked gasp, face pressing into the sheets, hips lifted by his hands until you’re on your knees, your ass in the air.

He spreads you open, slow—gentle, almost reverent—but there’s a wildness in his breathing. A quiet groan slips from his throat when he sees how messy you are, dripping and puffy from two rounds of being stuffed full.

Then his voice drops, deeper, darker.

“You look ruined.”

You whimper.

“But you’re gonna take me one more time, aren’t you?”

You nod helplessly. “Y-Yeah—”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and then he’s sliding back in from behind, slow and deep and mean, hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

You cry out, legs buckling, but his hands grip your hips tight—forcing you to stay still as he pounds into you again.

“Sound even prettier like this,” he groans, picking up the pace. “All wet and fucked-out and crying my name.”

“Feels too good—” you sob, biting down on the sheets. “H-Heeseung—”

“I know, baby. I know.” He sounds wrecked now, breath stuttering. “One more time. You’re gonna give me one more—come on, you can do it.”

You’re shaking, legs trembling, and when his hand snakes around to rub your clit again—you break.

You scream into the pillow as your third orgasm hits like a wave, clenching around him so tight he curses under his breath, hips stuttering.

“Fuckfuckfuck—”

Heeseung buries himself to the hilt one last time, groaning as he spills deep inside you again, pulsing hard while your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

When he finally stills, your body collapses under him, boneless and twitching, his weight sinking over your back as he pants against your shoulder.

Neither of you says a word for a moment.

Just your breathing.

Just the mess.

Just the sound of your heart pounding in sync.

[songhayoungie]

GIVING HEESEUNG VIAGRA WHEN HE RATER FOCUSES ON HIS GAME THAN ON YOU (it’s not a want, it’s a need.)

and ends up overstimulating you 😜

hard mode activated - lhs (m)

lee heeseung x reader

When your gamer boyfriend keeps ignoring you for his ranked matches, you slip him something to make sure he never forgets who’s really in control—turns out, three rounds later, neither of you are logging off anytime soon. ✉️ wc 1968 - tw ‼️ drug use (Viagra without consent), dubcon, rough sex, degradation, overstimulation, possessiveness, car sex, masturbation, light manipulation, inexperienced reader, breeding kink, praise kink, spanking

📝: this trope is so fun like guys I’m more important. Genre: smut, romance, comedy, slight angst, gamer!AU, modern AU, established relationship, chaotic energy.

“NO—Jake, you missed! What the hell are you doing, bro?!”

Heeseung’s voice is sharp, almost panicked as he throws himself back in his gaming chair, headset slightly askew, fingers tapping violently at the keyboard like it might help him recover from whatever in-game disaster just happened.

You blink at him from the bed, legs crossed, wearing his hoodie and literally nothing else, but he doesn’t even glance your way.

“Are you seriously yelling at Jake right now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“He sold the push!” Heeseung says like that’s supposed to make sense, eyes glued to his screen. “We had it, and then he ran past the stun grenade like an idiot— wait wait wait, I gotta rotate—!”

You push off the bed and pad over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. You know exactly how warm your skin is, how exposed your thighs are when you bend forward just slightly—but he’s still locked in.

“Hee,” you murmur against his ear, swaying a little. “Let me play a round.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not good at this game,” he says, dead serious, not even trying to be mean—just brutally honest as he adjusts his headset again. “You get motion sick and then you shoot the wall.”

You blink.

Hard.

“Wow. Okay. Rude.”

“I’m just being honest, babe,” he mumbles, eyes still scanning the screen. “It’s fine. You’re good at other things.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” he says. “Like… being pretty?”

Heeseung’s never looked away from his screen.

Not once.

You stare at the back of his head for a solid five seconds, arms still wrapped around him.

He doesn’t even notice the silence.

And that’s when something shifts in your brain.

You smile slowly, fingers trailing down to his chest. “You thirsty?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “Grab me water?”

“Sure.”

You disappear into the kitchen.

And you come back with a water bottle.

But you also come back with a plan.

Heeseung leans back in his chair, headset slipping slightly as he swipes at the sweat gathering on the back of his neck.

Weird.

It wasn’t even hot a second ago.

He adjusts his grip on the mouse, trying to focus. The screen’s still flashing red from the last round. He barely caught the kill cam because your arms were around him, your voice all soft in his ear, and then the way you smiled when he said you weren’t good at the game—it made something twist in his chest.

Now you were gone, and everything felt… weirdly quiet.

Too quiet.

“So… who was that?” Jake’s voice cracks through the headset like a bullet.

Heeseung blinks. “What?”

“Just now. The voice. Sounded like someone was clinging to you mid-match.”

“Oh,” Heeseung clears his throat and taps at his keyboard. “It was just Y/N.”

Jake makes a noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, man,” Jake chuckles. “Just didn’t think she was real for a second. You always talk about her like she’s some imaginary girlfriend—‘She’s cute,’ ‘She plays sometimes,’ ‘She made me snacks,’—but I’ve never actually heard her.”

Heeseung frowns. “She is real.”

“Sure she is, bro,” Jake says with a teasing tone. “Although I gotta say, she didn’t sound too happy when you told her she sucked.”

“I didn’t say she sucked,” Heeseung mutters, eyes narrowing at the screen. “I just said she gets motion sick and shoots walls.”

Jake laughs louder now. “Romantic. No wonder she left.”

Heeseung leans back again, shifting in his seat. His whole body is starting to feel tense—tight in ways he’s never felt during a game before. Like every layer of clothing is too warm. His joggers are clinging. The waistband is digging. And his thighs—

He shifts again, more aggressively this time.

“What the—ugh,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His neck is red. His cheeks too. Something’s wrong.

“Hyung,” Jake says slowly. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung says quickly, voice cracking a little. “Just—it’s really warm in here. I think—maybe I need a break.”

“You? Take a break from ranked?” Jake sounds like he’s about to faint. “Nah, something’s off. Did Y/N mess with you or something?”

Heeseung’s about to laugh it off—say no, of course not—but then he remembers your smile.

That soft “Sure” when he asked for water.

And the way you walked out without a word.

“…I think she did.”

Heeseung yanks the headset off with one hand and slams it onto the desk, jaw tight, breath uneven.

His palms are sweating.

His heart is pounding.

And his cock is aching—harder than it’s ever been in his life, straining against his sweats so much it hurts.

He didn’t even realize it at first—just thought the heat was from the game. But now it’s undeniable. His skin is burning. His whole body’s flushed. And his mind is clouded with one name.

“Y/N,” he growls, standing up so fast the chair wheels screech against the floor.

You’re on the bed.

Phone in hand.

Legs stretched out, innocent as ever like you didn’t just ruin his game and drug him with a freaking hard-on pill.

Heeseung stares at you, pupils blown.

You glance up. Smile.

“Done already?”

His jaw clenches.

“What did you give me?”

You blink, tilting your head. “Just water.”

“Y/N,” he says again, this time lower—deeper. “What did you put in it?”

You hum, pretending to think. “Something to help you focus.”

He’s across the room before you can blink.

Your phone flies out of your hand, tossed somewhere near the pillow, and suddenly you’re pinned flat against the mattress, wrists trapped above your head by one of his hands while the other grabs your thigh, forcing it open.

“Hee—” you gasp, wide-eyed.

“You ruined my game,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours, nose brushing your cheek as his hips slot between your legs. “I had my best K/D this week and you—you—decided to mess with me?”

“I just wanted attention,” you whisper.

“You could’ve said that without drugging me,” he mutters—but his voice is wrecked, his body betraying him, grinding down against your bare skin like he’s already too far gone.

You whimper when you feel it—how hard he is, how thick, how desperate he sounds trying not to lose it.

“You’re gonna fix this,” he whispers darkly, his lips brushing your ear. “All of it.”

You swallow. “How?”

He pulls back just enough to look at you—and the look in his eyes is lethal.

“You’re not leaving this bed until I come at least three times.”

His mouth crashes into yours—no warning, no patience. Just raw, teeth-clashing hunger.

His hands are all over you now, shaking with the effort of holding back, but still desperate to feel everything. Your hoodie rides up as he rips it higher, fingers digging into your hips so hard it leaves marks.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he mutters into your mouth. “You really drugged me just to make me touch you?”

You nod, dazed, already breathing heavy. “You were ignoring me.”

“And this is your solution?” he growls, grinding down into your core, his clothed cock dragging right against your heat. “This? Making me lose my damn mind while I’m on call with my team?”

You moan when he rolls his hips again—harder.

Heeseung groans, low and pained, like even that isn’t enough. “God, I feel like I’m gonna fuckin’ explode.”

Then he pulls back just enough to rip his hoodie off, exposing that unfairly pretty body you’ve been staring at all day. Pale skin flushed, chest rising fast.

He tugs at the waistband of your panties next—snaps them, actually, then pushes them down your legs in one rough sweep. They land somewhere on the floor.

And then he’s pushing your thighs apart, crawling between them like he owns you.

“You better remember this next time you try to pull shit like that,” he mutters, tugging his sweats just far enough down to free himself.

He’s thick—hard—already leaking at the tip, flushed red and twitching with need. It makes you gasp without meaning to, legs trying to close out of instinct.

Heeseung grabs your knees and shoves them wide open.

“Nope,” he hisses, lining himself up. “You started this. You’re taking it.”

And then he’s sliding in—too fast, too deep.

Your back arches immediately, breath catching.

“H-Heeseung—” you choke, the stretch overwhelming. “It hurts—”

His face falters for half a second, but his hands never stop moving—he’s pushing your hair out of your face, kissing your cheek, whispering, “Shh, I know, baby. I know. You’re just tight. It’s okay. You can take it.”

His hips grind down again, slower this time but still deep, and you whimper.

“You’re gonna take all of me, yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, voice suddenly soft again as he rocks into you. “Wanted this so bad you had to drug me for it… now you’re getting every inch.”

By the time he’s buried all the way inside you, your thighs are shaking, your head tipped back, and you’re gasping like you’ve just been pulled under.

Heeseung isn’t faring much better.

His jaw is tight, his brows drawn together, body trembling with restraint. Every roll of his hips makes his breath stutter—but he doesn’t stop. Not when you whine his name, not when your nails drag down his back, and definitely not when your walls clench around him so tight he groans, loud and broken.

You feel it when he starts to lose rhythm—hips jerking harder, messier, as the high claws its way up his spine. “Fuck—fuck, I’m—”

“Inside,” you breathe, nails gripping his arms. “Inside, please—”

His groan splits through the air.

He presses his mouth to your neck, moaning as he throbs inside you, warmth spreading deep with each pulse of his release. You both freeze for a moment, panting hard, your legs wrapped around his waist like you never want him to pull out.

But then—

Heeseung doesn’t move.

Not really.

He stays inside, chest pressed to yours, still twitching. His hips shift slightly.

And then again.

You flinch. “Hee—w-wait—”

He lifts his head.

And when he looks at you this time, his eyes are darker. Hungrier. Like something else just snapped.

“You thought one round would be enough?” he asks, voice low and wrecked, cock still hard inside you. “You gave me viagra, Y/N.”

Your mouth opens—but nothing comes out.

Heeseung leans down, kisses you slow, then starts thrusting again. No break.

“We’re not done,” he whispers. “Not even close.”

“You’re shaking already,” Heeseung murmurs against your lips, voice thick and low as he rolls his hips into you again—slow and deep.

You let out a sob, nails digging into his back. “It’s too much—”

He doesn’t stop.

Instead, he groans softly, forehead resting against yours as he keeps moving. Every stroke is deliberate now—sliding in deep, grinding against every sensitive spot until you’re gasping and arching into him again.

“You really thought you could drug me,” he whispers, “and this wouldn’t happen?”

You whimper, hips twitching under his grip. “I-I just wanted you—”

“You have me.” His voice drops. “All of me.”

One hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit—rubbing slow circles while he keeps fucking into you like he’s trying to brand you from the inside out.

Your back arches off the bed. “H-Hee—!”

He chuckles, soft but breathless, hips never faltering. “Too much? But you were so confident earlier,” he says, kissing along your jaw. “Now look at you. Messy little thing, can’t even keep your legs still.”

You can’t.

They’re trembling, clenching around his waist, your whole body locking up each time his cock presses into that sweet, overstimulated spot inside you.

“You sound so pretty like this,” he groans. “Can’t wait to hear you again when you fall apart.”

You’re already close.

Too close.

Heeseung feels it—your walls tightening, your moans slipping higher.

So he slows down more.

Keeps you right there, teetering.

Your eyes well up with frustrated tears. “Please—Hee, please—!”

He presses a kiss to your lips. “Beg for it.”

You nod fast, desperate. “Please, Heeseung—I need it, I need to come, I—”

“You’re gonna come with me this time,” he breathes. “So you feel it. Every last drop.”

Then he slams into you again.

Your whole body jerks—and this time when you come, it’s full-body, trembling, breathless, tears slipping from your eyes as he groans into your neck and follows right after, spilling deep inside you again with a shaky, “Fuck, baby—god, you’re perfect—”

You both collapse, sweaty and gasping.

He’s still inside you.

And still not softening.

You’re breathless under him, skin flushed and sticky, legs barely able to stay open—and still, Heeseung doesn’t move to pull out.

He’s staring at you, chest heaving, cock twitching inside your overstimulated walls.

“Still so fucking tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “You’re not even trying to push me away…”

Your lips part, dazed. “You’re still hard…”

Heeseung leans down, brushing your sweat-slick hair off your forehead. “I told you—this wasn’t over.”

And then he pulls out.

Only to flip you over onto your stomach with no warning.

You let out a shocked gasp, face pressing into the sheets, hips lifted by his hands until you’re on your knees, your ass in the air.

He spreads you open, slow—gentle, almost reverent—but there’s a wildness in his breathing. A quiet groan slips from his throat when he sees how messy you are, dripping and puffy from two rounds of being stuffed full.

Then his voice drops, deeper, darker.

“You look ruined.”

You whimper.

“But you’re gonna take me one more time, aren’t you?”

You nod helplessly. “Y-Yeah—”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and then he’s sliding back in from behind, slow and deep and mean, hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

You cry out, legs buckling, but his hands grip your hips tight—forcing you to stay still as he pounds into you again.

“Sound even prettier like this,” he groans, picking up the pace. “All wet and fucked-out and crying my name.”

“Feels too good—” you sob, biting down on the sheets. “H-Heeseung—”

“I know, baby. I know.” He sounds wrecked now, breath stuttering. “One more time. You’re gonna give me one more—come on, you can do it.”

You’re shaking, legs trembling, and when his hand snakes around to rub your clit again—you break.

You scream into the pillow as your third orgasm hits like a wave, clenching around him so tight he curses under his breath, hips stuttering.

“Fuckfuckfuck—”

Heeseung buries himself to the hilt one last time, groaning as he spills deep inside you again, pulsing hard while your name falls from his lips like a prayer.

When he finally stills, your body collapses under him, boneless and twitching, his weight sinking over your back as he pants against your shoulder.

Neither of you says a word for a moment.

Just your breathing.

Just the mess.

Just the sound of your heart pounding in sync.