#jake drabble

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper aftermath — jake

jake x reader

adult content featured - please read at your own discretion

went overboard so say hello to dom jakey

two days. two days of ignoring your best friend. it wasn’t easy as jake knew your schedule and hiding spots so well.

and it all came to an end when jake caught you coming out from the science building.

“avoiding me?”

“ah!” you squealed nearly falling into the bush next to you.

jake reached out, pulling you to his chest by your hands, avoiding and catching your fall. “careful there clumsy.”

you quickly pulled away, not wanting to be touched by him. not because you didn’t want it. no, because you craved it.

ever since you let jake, your best fucking friend, take your virginity, all you could think about was that tongue and fucking hands of his.

“jake, hey,” you quickly fixed your clothes, “what brings you here?”

jake pointed to the science building. “i have class right after you here, remember?” he chuckled.

“oh, right, right.” you nodded. “well, i should get going before i’m late for class.” you pointed off towards a random direction.

“your next class isn’t for another hour.”

“did i say class? i mean before i’m late for a studying session.” you quickly covered and used your thumbs to point towards the opposite direction. “gotta go!” you squealed and took a fast exit away from jake.

once you were a good ways away from the classroom building, you stopped speed walking to catch your breath. you closed your eyes and mumbled out, “that was close.”

“what was close?” a man’s voice asked from behind you.

you twirled around, hands up like you were ready to fight, a small shriek of surprise leaving your lips. heeseung laughed at your reaction.

“lee heeseung!” you scolded, punching him in the shoulder. “you can’t just sneak up on a girl like that!” you laughed.

heeseung laughed even more, “im sorry but i couldn’t resist.”

“what do you want?” you asked when your breathing went back to normal.

“jake has been pouty lately.”

“and that has to do with me because?”

“it started happening after you dashed out his bedroom, half dressed and never talking to him again.”

your lips went into a line. “how did you know i dashed?”

“it was the middle of the night, i had a full bladder and got hungry.”

caught. yes, after you had sex with jake, (your best friend!), he fell asleep and you dashed! half naked, not even thinking about the consequences because you were too in your head.

“you’re over thinking the whole situation aren’t you?” heeseung laughed, showing off his pearly smile.

“no, no, no i’m not.” you said shaking your head, crossing your arms.

“three no’s, all different tones.” heeseung tapped his chin. “your voice went an octave higher with that second no, then deeper with the third.”

“because i had something in my throat!” you defended.

“i know how to get your mind off jake and the situationship.”

“one there is no situationship, and do if you say to have sex with you, i wont hesitate to punch you, lee heeseung.”

heeseung grabbed his chest. “ouch, that stings. and to think we had something special.”

you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile. “it was a kiss.”

“and a very good one at that.”

“what’s your plan?”

“let’s go to a party tomorrow night.”

you walked off with heeseung, walking to a nearby cafe on campus, both of you failing to realize jake was watching the entire conversation and interaction.

well at least you failed to realize jake had actually skipped class to catch up with you, only for his friend to intercept.

jake was seething. only seeing red, blinded by jealousy. what, you let him fuck you and that’s it? was it just so you could go off to heeseung?

jake sim was jealous.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

from jakey the bestie: can you please stop ignoring me? i miss my best friend.

your heart dropped reading jake’s text that night after your shower. you were really being a terrible person right now ignoring jake.

your best friend.

he’s not the one to judge you, never judge you. you were being immature and rude about the whole situation. why can’t you just own up to it? communicate how you feel rather than hide?

because jake was your best friend and you had feelings for him.

yes he had said he felt something towards you, but was that actual feelings or just lust? just the want to take your virginity?

jake was sweet, but he was also a play boy.

you sighed heavily. “you doing okay?”

you looked up seeing heeseung still chilling on your couch. “dude, i thought you left already?”

heeseung had came over to help you with your assignments you had jake helping you with. “you looked like you needed company.”

“i’m fine heeseung.” you gritted through your teeth. “you’re clingy.” you scrunched your nose.

“what’s wrong with being clingy?”

“it’s not a attractive to a girl you’re not dating.”

“then let’s date.”

you scoffed. “yeah, no, i’ll pass. you’re reputation is just as bad as jake’s, if not worse.”

you were too busy in a conversation you hadn’t realized you were still in your oversized towel from the shower. suddenly feeling a chill, you motioned your hands towards the front door.

“you’re a terrible host.” heeseung teased, grabbing his belongings.

you began opening the door, “it was nice having your company but now—,”

you stopped in your tracks. because at your door, with their fist up ready to knock was, jake.

“jake?” you asked in a tiny voice.

jake looked at you, to heeseung, back to you, noticing your towel. “been busy, huh?”

“yes, studying.” you gripped the door, feeling the jealousy radiating off your friend. almost like when he found out you and heeseung made out at a party.

“in a fucking towel?”

“i just got out of the shower! he was supposed to be gone! wait—,” you stopped, shaking your head, “why am i even trying to defend myself? it’s none of your business.”

“it is my business who you fuck when it comes to my friends. when it comes down to me taking your fucking virginity and you go and give me the silent treatment for no reason.” jake spat. “what? wanted me to break you in for heeseung?”

“watch it.” heeseung stood tall next to you. heeseung knew how jake could get about you. overprotective and very jealous.

but heeseung wanted you two to talk it out. so he may have texted jake saying he was over a girls house, then perhaps posted a story on his social media account with him chilling on your couch—with an identifiable back ground.

jake was smart and he quickly put two and two together. he just wasn’t banking on him getting here so fast, you in a towel, and you opening the door with him standing there.

jake literally growled. “i fucking told you guys she’s off limits.”

“she can make her own decisions jake.” heeseung spat back. “stop being a dick to her. she’s not your property, she’s your best friend. and don’t worry, i was just here to help her with her assignments. that’s all.” heeseung adjusted his backpack. “don’t worry, me and her are just friends, okay? she doesn’t see me in that way; she’s already friend zoned me plenty of times.”

heeseung walked out of your apartment, brushing by jake’s shoulder, purposely bumping into him. heeseung turned around one last time, “if you need me because this prick cannot behave, call me.”

you nodded shyly and heeseung walked to his car. jake had his fists balled to his sides, biting his lower lip.

you sighed in annoyance, turning around in your apartment to walk away. if jake wanted to come in to talk your door was open.

the door slammed behind you. you turned around ready to rip one into jake, when his full lips founds yours. kissing you harshly, desperately. his grabbed your face in his hands, holding you close so you couldn’t get away.

he couldn’t let you get away again.

his tongue begged for entrance, but you wouldn’t allow it. not until one of his hands went down your backside and gripped your bare ass, his nails digging into your flesh.

you yelped and he took the opportunity to stick his tongue down your throat.

he was in heaven swapping spit with you. you were sure if you were to remove your lips from his, a line of slobber would connect you two. his teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as well.

when he finally pulled away, taking your bottom lip inbetween his teeth, pupils blown, breathing heavy.

“fuck cherry, so, so good.” jake whispered. before you could say anything, he connected your lips again and pulled, no, yanked, the towel off your body leaving you naked.

“jake—,” you pulled away.

“your room, now.” jake’s expression darkened. when you didn’t move, he turned your body around, spanking you harshly.

“ouch!” that would definitely leave a mark.

“be a good girl and listen to your bestie.”

you swallowed, nodded, and rushed to your bedroom. you’ve never seen this side of jake. didn’t even know he had this side to him.

jake saw the thoughts running through that head of yours and he laughed, walking up to you as you sat on your bed naked.

“what? thought i was just some subby boy? girls think that about me a lot, until they piss me off.”

jake stalked closer to you, taking off his shirt in one smooth move throwing it on the bed. then he removed his belt, “be good, or i will have to use it,” he threatened, placing the belt neatly on the bed next to you.

“unbutton my jeans.”

with shaky hands, you reached up to his button and quickly but clumsily unbutton and unzipped the jeans. jake looked down at you with his big eyes, tongue licking his lips, loving the sight in front of him.

“take my cock out, and suck it like the fucking whore you are.”

“jake, im not a wh—,”

he reached over to grab his belt, but you quickly placed your hand on his to stop him. looking down, you quickly did as you were told.

when jake’s cock met your tongue, he let out a big moan, sending a shock straight to your core. “fuck cherry, such a wonderful mouth.”

jake’s hand went to the back of your head, making you deep throat and gag. “no other man will ever get to know the feeling of this.” jake sighed in pleasure, using your mouth as he pleased. “you’re mine, and you’re going to learn that, baby. that mouth, that pussy, all of you belongs to me!”

as jake rambled, he was fucking your face, slobber dripping out of your mouth. when he looked down and saw you, he stopped. “i’m sorry, you just make me so crazy.” he apologized, sticking his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. you sucked his thumb.

“sorry i ignored you jake.” you coughed out trying to get your breath and head back.

“show me how sorry.” jake smirked. “lean back and open your legs for me. i’m hungry and i’ve missed you.”

you did as you were told once again, and jake wasted no time at all, to dive between your legs, tongue lapping up what you had to offer. with your hands spread out beside you, you gripped your comforter as jake worked his magical tongue against your folds.

see this is why you’ve been ignoring him. and for what? because you knew if he did it again, this would be it. you would be hooked and eventually get your heart broken.

“so good and all mine.” jake whispered happily, throwing your legs over his shoulders. he spat at your cunt, and went back to eating and licking like a starved man.

your stomach began to tighten, and you felt your thighs beginning to feel sore. “jake i—,”

“you can do it baby.” he encouraged, and placed two fingers inside of you, sucked on your clit, while his other hand pressed down on your stomach.

“oh, oh, OH!” you screamed as you came. hoping your neighbors were not home and could not hear you.

jake continued lapping you up, and your body shook from the orgasm and overstimulation. you pushed him away.

“jakey no more, please.”

jake tsked. “you haven’t had my cock yet.” he stood up, pulling you to the edge of the bed. your hips at the edge of the bed.

he let his pants and boxers drop to his ankles and he stepped out of them. it’s only been a couple days, yet you forgot how thick he was. you threw your head back and groaned.

you thought you couldn’t take it, “jake—can’t,”

he rubbed your hip bones, his tip teasing at your entrance, “you can and you will take me, babygirl.” he was being so mean but encouraging at the same time.

“breathe for me babygirl,” he said as he pushed through your tightness. “like last time baby, it’ll feel better.”

you bit your bottom lip, as jake pushed all they way in. more like bullied his way in. this time, he wasn’t slow with his pace, his hips snapping back and forth from the start, your body bouncing back and forth from the thrusts, your bed squeaking at the speed.

“baby, cherry, jakey isn’t going to last much longer. i’ve been so hard for you the past few days. aching for this pussy. wanting to bend you over every surface and have my way with you.” jake grumbled out, as his thrusts quickened and deepened.

“don’t you ever ignore me again, babygirl. i’m actually going easy on you. most girls who piss me off get tied up, and don’t get to orgasm. but you aren’t most girls aren’t you?”

jake was very blabby when it came to this. but you didn’t mind.

jake pulled out, “on your knees. i want to see your ass while i come in you.”

with the energy you could muster up, you flipped on your stomach, jake helping you left your hips as he plunged back in, your knees on the edge, your gripped your comforter.

“after this, i’ll eat this pussy and fuck this pussy wherever, whenever. in the library—fuck—in between classes, at parties, in my car,” jake couldn’t even finish his sentence but you came and he came right after filling you up with his load.

you groaned and almost sobbed. sobbed because your chest began to hurt. hurt from the feelings and the pain you would soon have to face.

jake pulled out, his come leaking out of you, and you collapsed onto the bed. “not yet babygirl, we need to get you cleaned up.”

jake picked you up in his arms, your face going to hide in his neck. he carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the counter. your body began to shut down, exhausted.

he gripped your chin in between his fingers. “no, no, baby you gotta pee and i need to wipe you with a warm cloth.”

you pushed his hand off your chin, moving your head away, “no need to be nice, jake, i know i’m just another fu—,”

“don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence.” jake snapped, grabbing your cheeks in his hand, squishing them. “i meant what i said,” he gripped your thigh with his other free hand. “you’re mine, only mine. in return, im all yours.”

jake kissed your forehead, releasing your cheeks. he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes looking into yours.

“all yours.” you smiled.

“all mine.” he repeated and kissed your lips.

consequences be damned.

ᓚᘏᗢ

© like, reblog, share, comment, all of it!! i love comments and messages and requests!!

not proof read

i am a believer in dom jake when you piss him off or make him jealous

[nephynes]

i can’t stop thinking about prince!jake and reader!palace maid, imagine this, he’s been chasing you, wanting you, and you haven’t returned any of his affections and then he hears a rumor.

MDNI

════════════════════════════

The sun had not yet warmed the stone of the western wing when word reached him.

A murmured conversation between two court musicians, half-heard beyond an archway. A whisper among the kitchen girls. A passing comment from his steward—Did you hear? The farmer’s son from the north sent word to the palace. Asked for her hand.

And something in Prince Jaeyun snapped.

The morning room was too bright when you were summoned. White marble walls dappled with early light. The fire had not yet been lit, but still the room was warm—with his fury.

He stood with his back to you, fingers curled around the stem of a goblet filled with wine he hadn’t touched. He didn’t look at you when you entered. Not at first.

“Is that it?” His voice was calm, low, venomous in its restraint. “Is that the reason for your stubbornness? The farmer?”

You froze where you stood, linen skirts brushing softly against the floor.

He turned then, slowly, and the fire in his eyes nearly made you stumble. “Some calloused-handed, dirt-covered fool, offering you a piglet and a straw roof? Is that the life you dream of?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already advancing—measured, deliberate.

“To marry a farmer,” he scoffed, as if the word tasted foul. “To birth a dozen squalling children in a cottage no bigger than this chamber’s hearth? To scrub floors with swollen ankles and a spine bent from work? Is that what you think you deserve?”

“N-no, Your Highness,” you said, voice trembling like a frayed string. “I never agreed to any proposal. I never wished for it.”

He paused then, eyes narrowing. “No?”

You shook your head. “I do not wish to marry at all.”

The room stilled. Even the birds outside seemed to fall silent.

“Why?” he asked, but it was not curiosity. It was command. A demand.

Your throat tightened. You looked down, not from shame, but from the weight of a truth you had never spoken aloud. “Because with marriage comes children, and mouths I cannot feed. My mother—she nearly died keeping me alive. I watched her starve for me. Bleed for me. That is not a life I would wish to pass on.”

His brows twitched, but you continued, the words tumbling now.

“I would rather remain a maid in this palace than bring a child into the world only to suffer. I do not—” Your voice cracked. “I do not return your affections not out of pride, Your Highness. But because I fear you would…sully your name…with someone like me.”

His eyes were on you now—piercing, unreadable.

“Sully my name?” he echoed, voice like struck glass. “Do you truly think me so shallow?”

Your eyes welled, but you blinked them away. “I am not like the other girls you summon. Nor graceful. I cannot dance. I eat what I’m given, and I am not built like the fine ladies in your court. I am not—”

“You are not what?” he snapped, stepping closer, his voice low and furious. “Not pretty? Not worthy? You think I’d take offense to your softness? To the swell of your hips? To the thighs you hide beneath those heavy skirts?”

You gasped. He was close now. Too close. His breath hitched at the rise and fall of your chest.

“You think I do not notice,” he murmured. “The way your dress clings when you’ve hurried. The way your steps falter when I say your name. You say you do not wish to bear children, and yet—”

His eyes fell to your legs.

“—and yet you clench your thighs when I speak of it.”

Your lips parted, scandalized, ashamed—and yet your body betrayed you.

He saw it.

He savored it.

“Oh,” he whispered, his voice like a sin confessed at dusk. “So that’s it. It’s not the farmer. Nor the fear. It’s me. You dream of being full with my babes. My heirs. Of lying on silken sheets while I worship you from beneath.”

You shook your head, but the color in your cheeks bloomed like a scarlet rose.

“Do not lie, little dove,” he breathed. “You’d carry my seed proudly if I asked it of you. Would you not?”

You opened your mouth to say no. To insist. But the sound died in your throat.

He smiled—not smugly, not cruelly, but with the expression of a man who has finally cracked the code of the only puzzle that ever defied him.

“I would see you swelled with my line,” he murmured. “Not out of duty. But because the sight of you—like this, trembling and warm—has ruined me. I will not stop. Not now.”

You were trembling, heart racing, lips trembling with unshed tears—but not fear. Something deeper. Something dangerous.

“Say it,” he whispered, eyes blazing. “Say you want to carry my heirs.”

════════════════════════════

• a/n: not the old timey breeding kink 😭 i have so many scene ideas with this concept but not the full premise 🤧

[naomiarai]

smut ── .✦ (18+) (nasty as hell too)

jake fucking you dumb into the mattress, he’s got your legs thrown over his broad shoulders, sweat dripping from his face onto your neck. he’s just got back from his trip, and god, saying he missed you was an understatement.

his thrusts are brutal and deep, cock dragging against your walls like he’s trying to stamp himself into your body. the bed rocks and breaks under the force of it, headboard slamming with each movement, the room echoing with sounds of raw sex— messsy and desperate. “fuck, baby,” he growls, voice wrecked, lips kissing your ear. “missed you, missed this sweet pussy, look at you, can’t even- hah– think, can you?”

he pulls back, enough to look down, watching your tits bounce with every slam of his hips, watching your mouth fall open like you can’ tt speak anymore. jake grins at the sight, “m’ gonna fuck you so full, you feel me for days” he suddenly drops your legs, and flips you on your stomach like your nothing, tugging your hips up so that you’re on your knees. his hand snakes into your silky locks, pulling just enough to arch your back, the other hand coming down to give your ass a sharp slap, that makes you jolt. “look at this pretty dripping cunt” he says, spreading your cheeks as he slides back in.

“o-oh! yunnnn!” you whine as he starts up again, hips snapping into you, hard and fast. you feel everything, cock, fat and veiny, the stretch leaving you breathless. jake leans over you, chest slick against his back, mouth right against your ear. “you like this, angel? like the way i get home, don’ even let you breathe before i fuck you dumb?” he rasps. your moans are muffled into the sheets as falls face down, hot tears streaming down your face. his fingers find your clit, rubbing, twisting and squeezing it mercilessly.

he keeps pounding into you, mushroom tip abusing your cervix endlessly as your gummy walls clench around his lenght. you feel his hand pull you back up as he turns your face around to face, placing a searing kiss on your lips. “open” he commands. you obey him, dazed and he lets a string of saliva fall onto your tongue, eyes locked on yours. “swallow it. good girl” you’re completely cock drunk, completely gone and he knows. he can see it your face, the way you take anything he gives you.

“f-fuck! feels so good, m gonna cum!” you moan out eyes rolling back. and you do, squirting out as you coat his dick in white. jake lets out a broken groan, cock twitching, as he fills you up with his seed, thick and hot as it leaks out of your swollen pussy lips.

[okwonyo]

ⓘ SIM JAEYUN ， WITH MY EYES CLOSED ！

🕷️ where JAKE SIM is nerd but not only.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 ｡ fluff best friends to lovers getting together ◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠ kissing skinship femrea ❪ 1136 ❫ mwah to dani !

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

jake is late. he knows that, he knew that for a while.

the funniest part is that he is late to see you for the sole reason that he needed to go save you from a weird genetically modified gorilla. it isn’t the first time this happens: he is starting to think that you never look around you. from the weird green goblin two weeks ago to the gigantic gorilla today, he might start to think that you really want to be picked off the floor by the spider superhero.

today is different. when he was about to leave you earlier, after saving your life once again, you told him to wait. jake found himself with his head upside down, hanging on the balcony above your room’s window.

your face was close enough that he could see the blush on your face perfectly, “thank you,” you breathed. spiderman was too starstruck to notice that you were taking his mask half way off. his mind went blank when you cupped his face then his brain exploded when your lips touched his.

his dream came true— his first kiss being given by his best friend and crush since kindergarten. his weeb loosened when you pulled away. he would have fell flat on the floor if it wasn’t for his amazing reflex.

like an idiot, he stumbled over his words, thanking you for the kiss or whatever that was before leaving your sight.

he had to pass by his apartment to put his clothes back on. he didn’t look at the mirror, now he is sure his hair looks messy and his glasses are set straight.

he arrives at your apartment breathless, chest heaving and gripping into his backpack for dear life. he rests his head against the door after knocking, he did run all the way there after all.

he almost falls on you. who even opens their door so abruptly?

“you are late,” you deadpan.

jake rolls his eyes, setting himself straight again, “hello to you too, it’s very nice to—” he hisses when you beat his chest, before turning around and walking into the apartment. he frowns, “meanie.”

he closes the door behind him. he can’t help but drag his eyes over your figure and notice the change in your outfit since your encounter with spiderman earlier.

“you can put your stuffs in the living room, like usual,” you say, on your way the kitchen. when you are a bit too far you shout, “you know your way around already so make yourself at home!”

he sits on the far corner of the couch as if he is scared of being too close to you— even if he would actually love that.

he always looks around your living room like it’s the first time he came over when he could redraw every object that is in it from memory.

jake’s awkwardness remains for a while. with his eyes on his knees as he fidgets on his pants. you find it very much endearing. therefore, he may be one hour late but you can’t be mad at him for too long.

“why do you look like that?” you ask, setting the two bowls of popcorn on the table. you give jake a look that makes him blush.

he brings his hand to his hair immediately, “like what?”

you don’t answer, squinting your eyes at his face while you sit down, “wait,” you laugh. “did you ditch me to go make out with someone?”

“what?” through his thick glasses, he gawks at you

“you could have just told me you know,” he is a tad offended when you huff.

but jake, in all honesty, looks around, “w—what are you talking about?”

“oh, please, you have lipstick all over your mouth.”

he isn’t the type to put lipstick on nor the type to make out with someone and forget about that. for a minute, he has no idea of what you are talking about— barely even trusting your statement. forgetting that he isn’t just jake but also spiderman, who you kissed earlier today.

the realization seems to hit you both at the same time. when you press your lips against one another, tasting your cherry red lipstick, your gazes meet and grow wide.

you put your hand in front of your mouth in pure shock. your muffled, “oh my god,” makes jake extremely anxious.

“hey, hey,” jake gets up when you do. he reaches out for you although you step back everytime he gets closer, “listen, i can explain.”

how jake is always running late, the bruises that appears on his body from time to time, his shoulders getting broader all of sudden, his weirdly fast reflexes. everything adds up so perfectly.

jake’s heart sinks when you hide your face in embarrassment, although he finds it very cute. he takes you a while to process the information. jake being a superhero is already big enough but him knowing what your lips taste like is another.

“i’m sorry for earl—” he starts, feeling like he needs to stop the heavy silence. you stop him soon enough:

your face is red when you look at him again, “are you spiderman?”

he nods, “yes.”

you are so done for. jake was already a little too perfect before, but it’s all different now that he saves life. right when you decided to get over him, he had to reveal himself as the guy who saved you from death two times.

“i’m sorry for kissing you earlier.”

“it’s okay, i, um,” he looks away. “i liked it. a lot.”

oh. that may change everything.

you tilt your head to the side. “yeah?” he gulps.

he feels sweaty all of sudden. “y–yeah.”

“take off your glasses.”

he doesn’t have much time to do so before you cup your face with more fervor than you did last time. but your lips taste as good, even better now that you are so eager. it makes jake waek in the knees.

he walks stumbles backwards, unable to stand on his feet properly. with his fast reflex, he gets to swap your position while you fall on the couch, so he can be on top of you when the landing arrives.

he grips onto you waist, sighing into your mouth the more the kiss goes on. he is such a loud kisser; so whiny that your stomach aches in pleasure.

how he says your name and sound he makes when you deepen the kiss make you completely mad. you can tell he isn’t experienced by the way he lets you lead. but he is fast to learn how to twist your tongue, how to run his hands over you body.

“thank you for saving my life.” you whisper between kisses.

jake’s voice his hoarse when talks back, “any time.”

분지 ܃ honestly i have no idea of what this is ..

taglist ( open )

[jakesangel]

ouch my head 💢 - smau

when y/n almost gets hit by a random hot basketball player who happens to have a huge crush on her

pairing : loser desperate jake x hot 'meanie' reader aka black cat gf x golden retriever bf

warning : they are all in college so will have college humor w sex jokes n kms/kys jokes

jake's group of friends : basketball extracurricular - heeseung + jay but also knows jungwon n sunghoon

y/n's group of friends : fashion extracurricular - sunghoon sunoo jungwon

not gonna show the profiles nobody really care anyway but here's a little spoiler > <

master list :

1 💢 i’m sure he looks fine as hell under his hoodie

2 💢 i had an accident.

3 💢 why his side profile so 🫦

4💢 i will make him pregnant.

5 💢 i'd gladly ask jake to try it again

6💢 jake getting bitches before me make no sense

7 💢 DELTE

8 💢 am i too pretty for you to answer

9 💢 you can make girls laugh 😲

rest will be updated

ouch my head tag list ( open ) : ask or comment to be added >< @enhablr . @onerooza @wonsdoll @lialaiakalaiiaia @nctsshoes2 @tzyunaes @heeseung64 @iselltulips @miszes @jakeswsh @thing89 @dreamiestay @cherrikii @rikisluv @50-husbands @miuhaee @wonwonluvie @zyvlxqht @letwiiparkjay @miniature-tragedy @tie-nn @thenastone @isa942572 @grassbutneo @luvyouloser @st1llm0nster @luvvhaerin @ren2jay @turip222 @iheartjayke @zaihypen @t1iqaa @daniellesyellowhands @cralessia @pharaways @clampclover @02zluvbot @jakieeeeee @sumzysworld @vmpivory @chxrlz-mxr @hizhu @slp23 @catecita @heelovesmeknot @danielleism @dissoc1ating @belovedsthings @getoxo @al3xa-amz @webjeje @dimplewonie @evpyzx @gardenwons @swagpersonthings

perm tag list ( open ) : @luvj4key @stwrjvke @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @mioons @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @jlheon @ghostiiess @vlaeaex

[kiemuu]

𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘮/𝘴 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 (𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘵𝘤.), 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 (𝘮. 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝟼𝟿 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.

💭 this work got inspired by this! specifically, jake. :3

Jake and you stumble through the front door, still flushed from dinner and wine, breathless from the cold and the heat of your lips clashing every few seconds. His laugh is soft and boyish, cheeks a little pink, and your fingers are tangled in the fabric of his shirt as he kicks the door shut behind him.

You murmur against his lips, grinning as he backs you up against the wall. “You’re insatiable tonight, huh?”

“Yeah, well… supper was great,” he trails off with another kiss to your jaw, then lowers his voice, husky and quiet, right by your ear. “But I’ve got a sweet tooth tonight… and only you can satisfy it.”

“Oh?” you breathe, pulling back just enough to scan his face, eyes narrowing with a playful kind of danger and brows raised. “My hungry pup wants a taste of his mistress, doesn’t he?”

Jake’s throat bobs as he swallows, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he gives a small, deliberate nod—submissive and eager, a silent yes just for you.

Without a word, you took his wrist and lead him down the hall towards the bedroom, your steps confident, unhurried, purposeful. Following behind, he watches you closely as you turn the knob and step inside, the soft lighting already casting warm shadows against the walls. You release your grip only once you’re standing in front of the bed, beginning to peel off your clothes with a calm sort of precision. Jake mirrors your movement, stripping down until you’re both left in just your undergarments, the tension thick between you.

You reach into the nightstand drawer and pull out the familiar items—his black collar, worn just enough to be comforting, matching leash you know he loves, and the soft red bondage ropes he knows so well.

“Get on the bed, hands behind your back,” you say, voice melodic, but laced with authority.

He obeys immediately, eyes soft but glowing with anticipation. You fasten the collar around him, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin of his neck. The leash snaps on with a low click, and when you pull lightly, his lips part on instinct, a quiet gasp escaping, eyes fluttering for just a second.

“You look so pretty like this, my drooly puppy,” you murmur with a velvet lilt, kissing his flushed cheek before looping the red restraints through the bedposts. “Just in case you get too restless when I’m making you feel good.”

After you’ve fully bound the rope around his wrists, you climb up onto the bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath your knees. Straddling his lap, your hand glides up his chest as you lean in to whisper by his ear, “You’re all mine tonight. No backing out.”

You settle between his legs with a slow, deliberate grace, fingers toying at the elastic waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips instinctively as you tug the fabric down and let it bunch around his thighs, eyes gleaming as you take in the way his cock strains against the open air. He’s already hard, twitching, leaking with pre-cum.

“So needy,” you croon delightfully, wrapping your hand around his shaft with a lazy stroke, your thumb smudging his creamy fluids on his reddened tip. “Barely touched you and you’re already stiff as a statue.”

Your words make his head fall back against the pillows, his chest rising in shallow waves. You tilted your head downward to let a warm ribbon of spit fall from your mouth, coating his length with practiced ease before you start pumping him slow, dragging out each glide with just enough pressure to hear the choked sounds he makes.

Jake groans, the sound punched from his chest. “Mommy—” he pants, biting his lip, “Faster… please—fuck, do it faster. Pleaseplease.”

You hum sweetly, as if considering it. “Mm… no, not yet.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, watching every shift of desperation in his features. “If you behave, maybe I’ll give you what you’re really hungry for.”

He whimpers in response, his wrists straining subtly against the restraints, body already trembling under your careful attention. When he tries to thrust up into your hand, you immediately press your free hand down on his thigh, fingers curling in firm warning.

“Stay still,” you order, voice soft but razor-sharp, “or I’ll leave you shaking and unsatisfied.”

And he does—bit by bit. His unfiltered, helpless moans grow louder, throatier, his hips twitched upward, chasing the high despite your hold. You glare at him, a playful but stern glint in your eyes, and he shudders beneath you, his back arching slightly, his head rolling to the side on the pillow, biting back sobs of pleasure and agony.

“Who’s a good boy for me?” you murmur, your voice all velvet and heat, eyes locked onto his wide, glassy ones.

“I am, mommy…” he whines out, voice is wrecked and so desperate to please you that his body coils tighter and tighter, trembling under the slow, maddening pleasure of being handled and praised like a toy.

“That’s right. My sweet little pup,” you coo, pressing a kiss just above his navel as your pace grows more purposeful, more punishing. “You’re doing so well… look at you. So beautiful, so fucked-out, so mine when you’re right on the edge.”

He cries out, a strangled ‘ahhh’ slipping from his throat. “I’m—I’m gonna cum, mistress, please, can I?”

“Yes, go ahead,” you whisper, low and commanding. “Let it out for me. Show me how much you need this.”

Jake grunts in a shaky, prolonged sound as his body tensing hard beneath you when his climax hits, his breath catching in broken little gasps. His release paints his lower abdomen in thick, hot messy streaks of cum, spilling over your palm, and you watch with a smug little smile as his chest quivers with rapid inhalations and his unfocused gaze drinking you in, every muscle drawn taut before finally melting into the sheets.

“There you go,” you murmur, slowly easing your hand, coaxing him through every last pulse. “Took everything out of you, didn’t it? Good boys always feel better when they listen.”

Your fingertips skimmed through his tousled strands as you guided his chin upward, craving the collision of your eyes. “It’s time for the main course,” you whispered—affectionate and devastatingly seductive. “What I promised you… if you stayed nice.”

You caressed his cheek, one hand moving with unexpected tenderness as the other is undoing the bindings around his wrists, freeing his hands at last. You placed gentle, peppery kisses on the reddened impressions they left behind after you rise to your knees and hook your thumbs into the filigree-trimmed edges of your white lace panties to slid down.

Jake was fixated on the thin, glistening string of arousal that stretches from the soaked fabric to the flushed softness of your sex—exposed now, aching and wet just for him. The sight alone punches the air from his lungs.

As if on cue, you could already see his cock—which had softened slightly from his earlier orgasm—twitching back to life with shocking urgency, already hardening again on his stomach, the mushroom tip weeping as if it missed your warmth already. Your legs swung over him with sinuous grace, slowly straddling his face before positioning yourself just above his parted lips while your own mouth hovers over his painfully hard cock. He moans at the contact alone, already trying to lift his head for a taste.

“Fuck…” Jake groaned, his voice thick with awe and undeniable hunger before diving right in. His hands immediately found your hips, gripping the plushness of your ass—kneading and spreading your cheeks with reverence and urgency. His tongue slid along your soaked slit with the desperation of a man starved, licking into you with long, devoted strokes that made your entire body tremble above him. He alternated between featherlight tugs over your swollen bud and plunging his tongue deep into your throbbing center, eager and unrelenting, mapping every inch of your sweetness—moaning like the taste of you was all he’d ever craved.

Your spine curved in a graceful arc, eyes fluttering half-shut from the intensity. But you didn’t leave him unattended for long. With a high-pitched sigh, you finally lowered your pursed lips to his cock—his entire body jolting the moment your warm breath ghosted over him. You set the pace, so languid and indulgent it nearly made him cry out. You lavished soft, open-mouthed kisses and flicks of your wet tongue along his sensitive underside, then traced your way back to the base, savoring every inch like he was the only thing that mattered.

After some time, you engulfed him fully until your nose were close to his soft sack and he was seated comfortably at the warm, narrow passage beyond your tongue. Your eyes watered from the delicious stretch, a soft gag flexed in your throat, but you held him there—your hand fitted perfectly around his girth, stroking what you couldn’t take while your head bobbing, unhurried at first, then picked up speed, suckling with ravenous greed, saliva already trailing down your chin, coating him in a slick sheen that only made each thrust of your mouth more obscene.

“Right there…” Jake mumbles into you, barely audible, lips slick and shining with you, his hips jerking upward involuntarily. “That’s it, keep going.”

He ground his face against your pussy with shameless hunger, his tongue delving in smooth, fervent strokes. His nose grazed your clit with every motion, the subtle friction making your orgasm crest with a cry wrenched from somewhere guttural and unguarded. His hands clutched your hips with bruising force, knuckles paling as his fingers dug into the soft curve of your rear. Pain edged the pleasure where his grip painted your fair skin in blooming shades of crimson, the contrast stark and beautiful beneath the low, heady light.

You tried to speak, curse or plead—but the words tangled in your throat, melting into fractured sounds, “I—I’m… g-getting s-so c-close… ah—!” Each syllable was a breathless stammer, threaded with a series of soft, broken moans as your hips moved roughly on their own accord, chasing every nuanced flick of his tongue that sent jolts of white-hot ecstasy through you, coaxing you to the edge with unrelenting precision.

“Come undone for me. Let me taste you falling apart.”

Your body seized at his demand, quaking with a violence that bordered on sacred. Your head fell forward, hair curtaining your flushed, tear-streaked face, lips parted in a soundless cry. Your back arched instinctively, the convulsions rippling up your spine like lightning. The suction around his cock faltered, your mouth slipping off with a soft pop as the flood overtook you. A gush of warm, pearlescent fluid streaming out of your entrance in sharp, rhythmic pulses—wetting every inch of his mouth and cascading down his chin like you were pouring your soul into him.

Jake drank you in greedily, as though the taste of you was oxygen, as though he’d die without another drop. His tongue followed every trace of your essence with ravenous intent as he persisted beyond the quivering of your thighs and the spasmodic thrusts of your hips, his grip unwavering, mouth sealed like a solemn vow. The sloppy, unabashed licks created an audible slickness, every squelch drenched in desire and utterly feral. A deep-throated moan rattled from his chest as he pulled back with effort, pupils blown wide, breath heavy and uneven.

He asked softly, “Good boys get seconds, don’t they?”

© kiemuu 2025. all rights reserved.

[ceramini]

would it be cocky of me to say i should be the representative for loser!enha? like when you see my username, i want you to think “oh it’s that one loser!enha writer,” especially for loser!heejake, since that’s who i’ve done so far (and my favorites..). but only 4 out of 7 members actually have a losersona in my mind… and i don’t write for riki. so 🥀 idk it might not apply. maybe if all of them had loser potential it’d make sense, but hoon and jungwon… i just can’t see them being losers 💔

[lassiie]

Power Play.

sub!boss Jake x Co-worker!dom reader

CONTENT ↠ nsfw! smut, sub Jake, dom/sub dynamics, dominant reader, needy sub Jake, strong depiction of fantasies, power play, sexual tension, worship kink, consensual power exchange, denial, servitude kink, head recieving, overstimulation, degradation play, slight violence, fluff (what should i say i'm still hella romantic in a way...)

WORDCOUNT ↠ 8k~ (didn't proof read the way i wanted...)

MDNI / Before you dive, read the warnings. don’t like it, don’t read.

Yours dearly, Lassie

Jake Sim is the human equivalent of a TED Talk on professionalism — all pressed suits, smiles, and PowerPoints that make managers almost tear up. Three months since his transfer from the overseas branch and the office still hasn’t recovered. They call him golden boy in the group chat — half-joke, half-worshiping honestly. Because, fuck, he’s too perfect. Too polite. The kind of guy who probably apologizes to doors after walking into them, and makes you forget he’s your boss.

And you? Poor you…You’ve been paired with him as his second in executive, which should've felt like a promotion. But didn’t even scratch the surface of your indifference. You didn’t need to sparkle like him to command attention. You’ve earned every inch of your place with blood, sleep deprivation, and the kind of ruthless efficiency that doesn’t beg for recognition. The office knew how you were : nice but ice-edged. They knew not to interrupt when you’re typing, not to hover near your desk unless summoned, and not to try you with weak jokes or wandering hands unless they’re craved the kind of career-ending evisceration you delivered to the last manager, as you buried him six feet under and salted the earth.

But still, interns loved you. You took good care of your team, made sure everyone was at ease, comfortable and heard in any situations. which bringed respect.

And Jake? Jake saw you long before you saw him.

First time was one of those insufferable corporate mixers, drowning in stale champagne and fake smiles, where you emerged across the room, wrapped in silk, fine jewelry and sharp liner. You were flawless that first time, you were impossible to ignore. And all the others too, actually.

You didn’t glance his way more than two to three times, and that cold distance only made you more magnetic, to Jake—the kind of woman who moves through rooms like no one deserves to know her but somewhat not mean. And Jake ended up eyes on you every other gathering, everytime a step further, a bit more small talk, a glass of champagne offered, his eyes fixed on your silhouette like it was a masterpiece he’d never be worthy enough to touch, let alone own.

Then that promotion opportunity came. So he transferred because he worshiped you, because you were the kind of woman who made him want to kneel, to be the loser he always wanted to be for his woman. For the impossible humiliating chance to breathe in your orbit every day, to stand beside you in meeting rooms pretending he’s your equal. But in his mind, you're not just his colleague. And he’s not even your superior. Oh babe, you're his goddamn sovereign. And he’s never felt more alive than when, in his thoughts, he’s kneeling, mouth open, waiting for commands you’ll never actually give.

He tried to act normal, pro, detached. But every clipped instruction from your lips feels like a test of endurance, every click of your heels across the floor a reminder. He watched : How you open his water bottle at meetings without sparing him a second glance, like he was a child. How you hand him reminders post-it like you’re feeding a dog out of habit, never cruelty—but never kindness either. It devastates him. Your effortless dominance. Your divine neglect. How you were a natural.

And it only got worse.

He started to make mistakes in your presence—every misplaced file, every stammered report, every too-long pause before answering your questions or request—was laced with intent. Because he wants you to be disappointed in him. He needs you to sigh, to call him out, to scold him with that glint in your eye that says you could gut him with a sentence if you wanted to. 

In his dreams, you’re pulling him into his office by the tie, shoving him to his knees, using him like something cheap and temporary—like a thing. He imagines you telling him he’s beneath you, that he’s useful for nothing but kneeling. Most of the time, like three hours ago, he ended up beating his meat in a bathroom stall, panting and low moaning those fantasies, agreeing, sobbing, begging you to ruin him in front of the team, to make an example of him. He imagines you laughing as he licks you beneath your desk, sobbing because it’s not enough.

But none of that ever happens.

Because in reality, Jake is a coward. A gorgeous, trembling, painfully nice coward who sits quietly, worshiping you with slight glances, calling it professionalism. Hoping—foolishly—that one day, you’ll notice him not as a coworker, not as a man, but as the thing he wants to be: your property. Your toy.

So Jake found himself lucky to get to travel with you in the name of the company, even if it’s more like you got to travel with him.

You’ve always had a thing for rooftop dinners. Velvet skies, free-flowing wine, fairy lights strung above your head like some Pinterest board fever dream. You’re halfway through a glass of red you can’t pronounce, listening to a group of executives over-intellectualize Shark Tank, when you realize Jake’s gone.

Not that you noticed right away. You were too busy being charmed by some VP with a Rolex and too much cologne. But on the way to the restroom, your steps slow.

There—by the bar your ex-manager stands. The one who should’ve been fired, but instead got quietly "transferred"l. He’s hunched over a whiskey glass, already too loud for the setting, and—of course—he’s found Jake. And Jake’s just… sitting there. Letting it happen. You don’t catch the whole thing, but what you do hear lands like a slap.

“She’s cold, huh? Don’t take it personal, new guy. That bitch just needs a firm hand. Or maybe some good dick to set her straight.”

Classy.

You’re not fragile. You’ve sat through worse. But the worst part isn’t him. It’s Jake. Jake—who’s supposed to be different. Jake, who’s tilting his head like he’s actually considering it. Your heart doesn’t break. It just… 

Lowers its expectations. Because of course. Of course the one man you thought might actually get it—the one who made fumbling attempts to earn your respect instead of demanding it, and the one who seemed like he worked as hard as you did to get where he was—turns out to be made of the same recycled garbage as the rest.

You almost walk away. Almost. When Jake moves. Your ex-manager lifts his glass for a toast to misogyny, and Jake spills it all over him. Deliberately. 

No apology. No more honorifics. He just, like that, made the golden boy vanish.

“Let me tell you something, you piece of shit,” he says, voice flat.

“She’s one of the most capable, intelligent, and dedicated professionals I’ve ever met. If you think she owes you warmth just for existing in her line of sight, maybe that’s why you’re no longer her superior. Or anyone’s, really.”

And suddenly, the bar quiets a bit.

“God forbid a woman doesn't tolerate bullshit. She’s earned more than the team’s respect. She’s earned admiration. Mine. And the higher-ups’, too. So here’s some advice: next time you think about speaking her name, do us all a favor and don’t.”

Your ex-manager, predictably puffs up like a drunk peacock about to throw a punch.

That’s your cue. You stride over, grab Jake by the wrist, and step between them. Not for Jake. Not even for the ex. But for you. Because you’re done letting men discuss your worth like it’s a goddamn cocktail special.

“You’re going to shut your fucking mouth.”

It leaves your lips like a knife thrown with perfect aim—smooth, deadly, no hesitation.

“No one here wants to hear the rot that curdles in whatever’s left of your brain.”

He blinks. “You—” Stunned. Good. Let him choke on it. He always feared you a little, but now? Now that he’s been stripped of rank, status, relevance? Now that he’s nothing but a cautionary tale with a half-empty drink? He’s pathetic. And god, it suits him.

So you smile, slow and cruel, like you’re savoring it. 

Because you are.

“Your career didn’t end because women stopped smiling. It ended because you couldn’t keep your dick zipped and your mouth shut. And now look at you—bitter, balding, washed-up in a suit that screams clearance rack. Shit, I’d feel bad for your wife if I didn’t know she was already contemplating divorce papers.”

You step closer, watching his throat bob like he’s trying to swallow the truth—but it sticks.

“How about I send her your HR file?” you murmur, voice dropping low and poisonous. “Maybe she’d enjoy seeing the long list of every intern you've “mentored”. Wouldn’t your kids just love knowing daddy’s a predator with a pattern?”

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. His face curdles, and that’s enough for you.

You turn, already done with him, gripping Jake’s wrist like an afterthought—like he’s yours to take with you. And he lets you. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t question. He just follows, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, dragged up to your rooms’ floor like a kid being led to bed.

Once the elevator dings and you’re back on solid carpet, you realize: you’re still holding onto him. Tightly. Nails half-embedded into his skin.

You drop his hand like it burned you. “Shit—I didn’t mean to grip that hard. Sorry—”

And then he whimpers.

A real, breathy, aching sound that does not belong to a man sober in thought. His hand is trembling, but it’s not from the pain. No. You think that’s Jake’s flushed. His eyes are glassy; his lips parted like he’s seconds from begging; and he’s not hearing a word you’re saying.

Actually, he’s still stuck in the bar, at that moment. Still reeling from the version of you that stepped in, grabbed him strongly. The version that protected him while threatening to ruin someone else.

And fuck, he liked it.

He could fall to his knees right here, in the hallway, under the hum of those fancy hotel lights, in front of the security cameras, the staff or any stranger possibly walking by from their own room—and he wouldn’t care. He’s hard. Pulsing through his slacks. You can see it. Can you ? Fuck he hopes you can’t.

He’s too drunk… Past his limit for sure, since he never really drinks. But this isn't just alcohol.

This is you.

“Mr. Sim?” You call for him again, in his daze.

Why the hell are you so pretty tonight ? And why’re your nails so clean? Why do they gleam under the light like they were made for him to fidget with ? To leave marks on his back? On his throat?

He's a man standing on the edge of fantasy, and you—well, you’re just standing there, breathing, and it’s too much.

“Mr… Jake?”

His eyes dart.

“S-sorry, have a good night, m-miss.” He stammers it out, then bolts like he’s escaping a fire. Or running from a wet dream that got too real.

And you just stand there. Stunned. What the hell was that?

���

You’d showered. Paced. Changed into something softer—something that didn’t scream professional, but still whispered respectable enough to knock on your boss’s door past midnight.

And now, here you stood in front of Room 707 with a travel-sized first aid kit and a mind spiraling in loops.

You told yourself this was about the wrist. About decency. About clearing the weird air that was left behind. Not about the way Jake’s eyes had clung to you like you were divine retribution in heels. Not about the ache under your ribs every time you replayed the way he stood up for you like it meant something.

Nope. Definitely about the wrist.

You knocked—firmly, like you weren’t praying he didn’t answer. But of course, he did. 

And god help you.

Jake’s shirt : rumpled, sleeves : shoved to his elbows, no tie, no belt, just that top button undone like a tease. He looked half-finished or  half-undressed. Either way, your brain short-circuited for a half-second too long.

“Hey,” you said, lifting the kit like a peace offering. “Thought I’d fix your wrist. Since I mauled you earlier.”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled softly and nodded before stepping aside to invite you.

Inside, it felt strange—quiet, warm, domestic in a way that shouldn’t have felt intimate but absolutely did. Jake moved around like he was trying to impress you in silence: fluffing the cushions, adjusting the lights, even pouring you water like it mattered, with that cute stressed expression.

You sat. He sat closer. And you started dabbing the ointment gently on the red welts your nails left behind.

“Sorry again,” you murmured. “Didn’t mean to dig in that hard.”

Jake just hummed, with the softest voice, almost a moan. Like the pain was holy now.

Then he asked, barely louder than a breath:

“You okay?”

And somehow, that cracked it all open.

You didn’t mean to spill. But it poured out anyway. Every time your ex-manager had belittled you, laughed too loud at meetings, but still stolen your credit. Every time his eyes lingered too long. Every time you’d swallowed the rage, because you couldn’t afford to be seen as “too emotional” in a room full of mediocre men who failed upward.

Jake listened. Like, really listened. He’d heard some of it. But your version made him exhale like he couldn’t take it.

“I should’ve broken that asshole’s nose,” he muttered, low and taut.

You stilled. The words hit deeper than they should have. Not because of the violence, but because of the intent. Jake wasn’t trying to play savior. He was just... angry for you.

Your hand lingered on his wrist softer now. “Thank you. For earlier. For saying all that. I know I act like it’s whatever, but it... wasn’t.”

Jake’s eyes stayed on you like you were speaking scripture.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” he said. “I saw the kind of woman you are from day one. You’re smart. You don’t kiss ass. Guys like him can’t handle that. Because they don’t have the vocabulary for powerful.”

Something tugged tight in your chest. And lower. Warmer.

“I really should’ve punched him,” Jake said again, more to himself now. “No man like that deserves to say your name.”

You let out a laugh—one that tasted like relief.

“Honestly? I should’ve done it. Slapped him. Right in the face. Just once. Not even for like, feminism or justice or anything—just for me, for the satisfaction.”

You were smirking before you even realized it. Jake was grinning too, loose and genuine, like this moment was undoing all the knots inside him and you. Then something flickered behind his eyes. A wild idea taking root.

“How… How about you try it.” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

“Slap me,” he said, voice light but firm. “Come on. Let it out.” He smacked his own cheek lightly, then grinned at you like a lunatic.

Your jaw dropped. “Mr. Sim—”

“You’ll feel better.”

His cheek was pink now. His eyes dared you.

And your hand... your hand actually rose, by instinct. You stopped halfway. Fist clenched, nails digging into your palm. What the fuck were the two of you doing? Was it the adrenaline? The leftover fury? The wine? The way Jake looked at you like you were both priest and punishment? Either way, your heart pounded. Your hand hovered. Very much tempted, but terrified. And Jake just sat there, unblinking. Waiting for you. No, begging for it.

Jake’s hand wraps around yours like it’s his first taste of something forbidden—gently, reverently, like he’s convinced himself your fingers are a gift he doesn’t deserve but still needs to worship. He doesn’t just hold your hand. No—he kisses it softly, unfolds it, spreads your palm. His voice, when it comes, is low, breathless, and so fucking sincere it borders on stupid.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, pressing your open hand to his cheek like some sacrificial lamb ready to be offered up. “I don’t mind. Say what you want. Slap me how you want. Curse me. Pretend I’m him—I’ll take it. I’ll be him, just this once. For you.”

And god help you—something about the way he says it, all shaky and soft-spoken, makes your jaw tighten and your thighs twitch. Because of course he’d say that. Of course Jake fucking Sim would offer himself up like a stand-in for your trauma with bedroom eyes.

You hesitate for a second, because sanity demands you to—but then your palm lifts and falls.

The first slap is light, really. Nothing to write home about. But the way Jake shivers under it? The way his breath stutters and his eyes flutter half-lidded like you just whispered something obscene directly into his bloodstream? That reaction alone makes something dangerous spark inside you.

And when you laugh—half from nerves, half from the ridiculousness of the whole thing—he laughs too, like he’s high off the sound. Like you just gave him a hit of something addictive.

“You’re a pathetic coward,” you whisper, almost shy to curse him but the words feel good leaving your mouth, like steam venting from a pressure cooker.

SLAP. 

“You ever do your own work? Or just ride other people’s backs while jerking off to the sound of your own voice?” 

SLAP. 

“Useless piece of shit—god, you couldn’t lead a fucking team of toddlers without crying.”

SLAP.

Jake’s mouth parts like he’s drowning and your voice is air. His hips twitch beneath you, subtle but undeniable, a reflex he can’t hide anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, like a prayer with cracked knees. “I’m… I’m sorry.” The way he says it—shaky, shame-drenched, utterly sincere—does something awful to your insides. Your cunt clenches around nothing

“Sorry?” you echo, voice rising just enough to cut the air like silk pulled taut. “You think that’s gonna cut it, you filthy little fuck?”

SLAP.

“Yes!” Jake gasps, and his voice is so wrecked, so gone, it nearly makes you moan. “Yes—I’m sorry!”

And then suddenly—without any warning—he pulls you on top of him, like his body just knows where you belong. You straddle him instinctively, the move so fluid it feels choreographed, and now you’re above him, your dress riding up your thighs, your weight grounding him to reality like some punishing fever dream.

The couch creaks a bit under you, but neither of you care. Jake lies back like an offering, eyes half-lidded and lip trembling, hips pressing up in slow, helpless thrusts like he’s trying to fuck through his slacks and into your core without permission.

Every slap now lands with purpose, with rhythm, your palm stinging and his face pinked with marks that scream I want this. And he’s moaning for each one—hands clutching your thighs like he’s scared you’ll vanish, like he’s trying to burn your shape into his memory.

“P-please,” he whines, eyes rolling back just a little, “please, don’t stop, keep going—fuck—”

You realize then you’re grinding into him rhythmically, like your body figured out what it needed long before your brain caught up. Your panties are soaked, dress bunched above your hips, and his cock—hard, thick, fucking twitching—presses up against you in the most delicious way.

And god, the sight of him?

He’s ruined.

His hair’s a mess, his shirt wrinkled like it’s been gripped and yanked—by you—his face flushed, eyes glazed over, lips parted like he’s seconds from begging with tears in his lashes. He looks like a man hanging on by a thread, and you’re the one holding the scissors.

Your hand finds his throat. Not to squeeze—just to touch, trying to own. Your fingers brush that frantic little pulse at the base of his neck, and Jake gasps—one of those sharp, gut-punched sounds—and tilts his head back without hesitation, baring himself like he’s got no shame left. And maybe he doesn’t.

Your thighs clench around him, hips still grinding slow and firm, your smile turning downright predatory now, because fuck, this man is beautiful like this. Ruined, desperate, and utterly yours.

And the sickest part? The part that makes heat pool in your stomach and twist behind your ribs like fire licking up your spine?

He’s smiling too. Like he’s finally found where he belongs.

You're straddling the line of a terrible mistake, and you know it. Jake Sim—your boss—is now lifting you as your legs close around him, carrying you through his room, to his bed, just to kneel between your thighs like a worshipper at the altar, and somehow, you’re the one in control. Not because you should be. Because he needs you, he wants you to be.

His lips brush your ankle, soft and trembling like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. His kiss isn't a declaration—it’s a plea. And you let him. You let him, because deep down, you've always known Jake didn’t want a woman who waited for his command—he wanted one who would ruin him.

You cock your head, letting the silence stretch. “So that’s what you like, Mr. Sim?” The mockery in your tone is gentle, like silk hiding a knife. “You want to be punished? Humiliated?”

His body jerks. Visibly. Shamefully. He nods, almost moaning from the idea of it. The sound is broken, needy, and completely unfiltered. He nods—frantic. Eyes wide, pupils blown, gorgeous lips parted like he’s about to confess something filthy and forbidden.

“Undress.” you order, and the sight of this grown man stumbling on unbuttoning and getting out of his pants is the cutest shit you ever saw suddenly.

You lift your heel to his cheek when he knelt back—still tender, pink from earlier—and drag the sharp arch of it down his throat, tracing the vein pulsing beneath skin. He doesn’t recoil. He leans into it, breathless. Then, with a shift of your leg, you press the sole of your shoe directly against his chest and push. Hard.

He gasps, then groans—like he wants to beg but can’t choose between pain and praise.

“You like that?” you murmur, increasing the pressure.

“Yes—fuck, yes,” he pants, squirming under your foot. “Don’t stop. Please…”

Your gaze drops to the dark patch blooming at the front of his boxers. Pre-cum stains the cotton, making it cling to every thick vein and curve of his cock. He’s twitching—throbbing—with desperation. It’s obscene, really. You haven’t even touched him, not really, and he’s already soaked like a teenager with a forbidden crush.

"God," you exhale, voice thick with amusement. "You’re soaking through for me, aren’t you, Jake?"

He chokes on a moan. The sound is pitiful. His hips jerk against the heel of your foot like he’s hoping for just enough friction to make him cum like a dog. And when he starts to kiss your leg—soft, reverent kisses that trail from your ankle to your thigh—you freeze him with a single word.

“Stop.”

He stiffens instantly. His face—red—jerks up, guilt shining in his eyes. You don’t say anything at first. Just stare at him. Let him writhe in the silence.

“Take my shoes off. Now.”

He obeys immediately—scrambling like a man whose life depends on it. Kissing the strap, whispering apologies as he unbuckles each heel. His fingers shake the whole time. You can practically feel how hard he is without looking.

Once bare, you remove your panty, spreading those legs, letting him see exactly what he’s begging for. His eyes darken instantly. Mouth falls open. He looks ruined already—and you haven’t even let him taste.

“Eyes on me, Jake.”

Fuck keep using his name. He loves it.

He nods slowly, almost reverent, eying you and your cunt like he couldn’t choose who gave the orders. His hands ghost up your thighs—asking silently, needing permission like his life depends on your mercy. You don’t grant it, but don’t stop him either. You just watch as his fingers reach closer and closer producing that electric feeling, till he reaches your folds, his breath catches audibly. 

Fuck, You’re soaked. His eyes flutter shut, like the sight alone sends him reeling. But the second his fingertips twitch forward—

“No fingers,” you say.

He freezes. His voice is nearly a whimper. “C-can I use my mouth?”

You pause, mischievous. Tilt your head like you’re thinking about it. Like the wet heat of your pussy throbbing for him isn’t already an answer enough.

“You can try. But you stop when I say. Understood?”

“Yes. Anything.”

And then he dives in. There’s no finesse. No gentle buildup. Just hunger. Jake eats you like a man starved, no like a freaking golden retriever—face buried between your legs, licking and sucking like every inch of your pussy is holy and he’s dying for it. His moans vibrate against your clit, tongue sliding in messy, frantic circles, sloppy and chaotic like he can’t think straight.

He’s a total mess, with like, no experience. And it’s perfect.

“You’re terrible at this,” you mutter, thighs trembling and back arching despite the insult. “Is this how you always eat pussy, Jake? Like some starved dog?”

The moan he lets out is devastating. Deep, guttural. He shoves his tongue into you like he’s trying to answer with action, not words. You curse, “fuck, FUCK !” His big nose grinds against your clit with every thrust, and the heat building inside you is blistering.

Then he breaks the rhythm—again. Too desperate. Too frantic, trying to breathe a bit. And you almost came by being denied. You want him in you. Now. 

“Jake—stop.”

But he doesn’t.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locks you in place, and devours you some more. His hips are literally fucking helplessly into nothing but thick air. His mouth chants his devotion, tongue trembling from the effort as he fucks you with it, drowning in your slick.

And your orgasm hits you like a thunderclap—sudden, violent, raw. You cry out, thighs squeezing around his head suffocating him, voice cracking on his name like a command and a curse all at once.

"Stop! Jake! Fuck!"

He doesn’t. He moans against your cunt like he’s proud of breaking you, lips and chin soaked, tongue still lapping at the mess you made for him.

You shove him back with a kick—heart still thundering. He looks up at you, dazed and smiling like a boy who just won the lottery. His face is wrecked. Hair a mess. Cock visibly leaking like he might’ve come just a little from tasting you.

You grab him by the back of his hair, yanking his head up, your lips cruel inches from his.

“You didn’t listen, Jake.”

He winces. Nods. But his cock twitches. He freaking loves this.

“I told you to stop,” you say, voice hot, “You didn’t, so…” You smile slowly and mercilessly. “You don’t get to come.”

His face crumples. “What? Please—please, I just wanted to make you feel good—”

You lean in, let your lips brush his.

“No. Good night Jake.”

Jake looks pathetic. Absolutely wrecked, lips swollen, cheeks flushed like he’s run a marathon instead of just begging to come. His hand darts out, trembling like he’s on the verge of cardiac arrest, and he wraps his finger around your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he whispers, voice shredded. “You don’t have to touch me. Just… stay. Please. I won’t ask for anything.”

Right. Because that’s worked so well for him so far.

You glance down. He’s sprawled out like a cautionary tale—cock twitching uselessly, leaking against the waistband of his briefs. His hair is damp and curling at the edges, eyes wide and wet. And, God, the way it turns you on should be illegal in at least five states.

You sigh. It’s performative, but you let it be. “Fine,” you mutter. “But I’m showering first.”

“I’ll do it,” he blurts. Too fast and desperate. “I-I’ll wash you. Please.”

You should say no. You should. But instead, you tilt your head, curious. Maybe it’s the power trip still humming in your bloodstream. Maybe you just want to see how far he’ll go. So you let him follow.

You undress—slow, deliberate, aware of every inch of skin as it’s revealed. You’re not shy, not really, but there’s something oddly fragile about it. Like this version of you—this one he sees—is a new animal altogether. Jake touches you with his desperate eyes. He watches, jaw slack, eyes like you’re the first woman he ever saw.

In the water, he’s reverent and very careful. Lathers your shoulders, your back, your gorgeous breast. His hands shake when they reach your thighs. But he never slips. Never tries. Not where you ache. Not where he’s dying to be.

It's sick, how good that makes you feel. And it pleases him like nothing else to see you like that, breathing heavily at every touch. Holding onto the bathtub when his hand slides down your thigh.

When it’s over, sadly, he helps you into a robe. Like some kind of tragic gentleman. But his cock—still hard, still untouched—presses against your ass as he wraps the fabric around you. Just for a second. Just enough.

You don’t flinch,don’t comment, cause of course you’re dying to have it in you right now. But of course, he panics.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—”

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice flat, pretending you don’t really care. Jake nods into your shoulder like a punished schoolboy. “It’ll die anyway,” he mutters.

Spoiler alert : it did not. After shower, in his new briefs, he’s doing a poor job hiding just how painfully alive he still is. He crawls into bed next to you, still like this. He doesn’t try anything, doesn’t speak. Just folds himself against your side, forehead to your belly, arms wrapped around you like you’re some human security blanket. You card your fingers through his hair, lazy, soothing. Like he’s a dog you’re rewarding for good behavior.

“I love this,” he whispers, voice raw, earnest. “I love being under you…”

You don’t respond right away, you just keep stroking. Letting the silence stretch. Then, finally you speak : “I guess this makes us dom and sub now, huh?”

His head snaps up. Eyes huge. Like you’ve just freaking proposed to him. “Y-yes! I mean—only if you allow it. If that’s what you want.”

You look at him. Really look. This man—flushed, panting, cock caged and aching—would probably crawl across glass if you asked right now. And he always felt… Different. So…

“Yeah…” you say slowly. “But I’m not… Like… very… experienced, you know ?”

He lights up like a fucking Christmas tree. “Believe me,” he says, “you really, really are a natural.”

And that's how it started. The very next day you woke up like being a dom was a task on your to-do list. You made sure to tell Jake that nothing would happen until you were prepared. And “prepared” had its own definition for you. You documented, watched a lot of porn and blogs about it, visited shops after specialised shops to buy some accessories. For you it was serious, or at least you wanted it to prove to him you where. But three days became a week. And a week two, clueless of how pant up Jake was, waiting, observing you from so close but not even sparing him a glance. Until he booked a meeting with you. a five minute before hour. It almost made me laugh. How many grammar faults he made and how the hour was strangely badly chosen. still you clicked on “accept”, and added a comment :

Be prepared. It’s gonna be the real thing. 🕗

And that night when you enter his office, Jake is on his knees.

Literally. Hands clutching his thighs like his own body might betray him at any second, head bowed low. You pause at the door, heels clicking against polished tile, and glance behind you—because what if it wasn’t you standing there? What if some clueless intern wandered into this fever dream instead?

It’s almost tragic how far gone he is. Almost...

He hasn't even looked up. Poor baby’s probably been like this for twenty minutes, edging himself in anticipation alone. All because you told him this meeting would be the real deal. That today would be official. He must’ve short-circuited from the promise alone.

Well, time to step into your role.

You close the door gently behind you. The satisfying click echoes like a gunshot in the quiet office. Your black dress is obscene — tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, short enough to start a scandal, and paired with the same high heels he once moaned into as he kissed each pointed toe like a prayer.

and Jake? He’s visibly hard from the sound of your footsteps alone.

You walk toward him, and his thighs tense at the sight. He doesn't dare look up. Doesn’t need to. He knows who it is. You crouch down beside him, slow, calculated, a predator humoring her prey. Your fingers thread through his hair and gently pat.

“Good boy.”

He whimpers. Actually whimpers. You smirk when you feel the full hardness beneath his slacks with your hand..

“Pathetic,” you murmur, clicking your tongue in his ear. “Getting hard just from the sound of my heels?”

“I’m sorry…”

Your voice drops. “Are you in your right mind, Mister Sim? Should we reschedule this meeting for a time when you’ve got some self-control?”

“No, no, no—I-I’ll behave, I promise,” he rushes out.

You laugh, soft and dangerous. “Come here.”

You stride to his desk—his desk—and make yourself at home in the chair he usually owns like a throne. Now, It’s yours. He stands, hesitant, and when he sees you sitting there, legs crossed, perfectly composed—his expression crumples with want. Fuck he wants to crawl to you directly under the desk to serve you, but he walks and sit in front of you.

You reach into your branded bag and produce a thin stack of papers and two small boxes.

Back to business.

“Here’s the contract,” you say, voice clipped and professional, like this is just another quarterly strategy meeting. “I marked everything I’m willing to do or try in blue. You’ll go through it, mark your interests in green, and we’ll see where we align. I’ve included safeword options, conditionals, limits... all the usual.”

He blinks at the paper like it’s his acceptance letter into heaven. He takes it, reverent, then actually starts reading — not just flipping through, but really absorbing it. You watch his mouth part slightly at the sight of all your “X”s. Fuck keep it together, you need to look cool.

Bondage:Leash and collar – X. Gag – X. Cuffs – X. Genital cage and toys– X.

Impact and Sensation Play:Biting. Hair pulling. Slapping. Sensory deprivation. Asphyxiation. All X. All yes.

And when he skims to the intimacy section, his whole posture shifts — hips twitch, breath hitches. Unprotected sex. Orgasm. Kissing. Fluids. All marked. You didn’t even flinch.

But the part that breaks him? The "I want to feel like..." and "I don’t want..." pages. You were for real. Letting him feel vulnerable out in clear, responsible terms. The aftercare checklist is long, thoughtful, even tender.

It’s the final confirmation: you didn’t do this on a whim. You mean it. You want him. Like this. His eyes shimmer slightly. Your boss. On the edge of crying from a form. Then he hesitates shyly. Circles two spots you left uncrossed.

You lift a brow as he gives back the form for you to consider.

“Golden shower and Exhibition “ you sight “I’m… not sure… But we can discuss it later.” you admit.

“That’s okay,” he replies too fast, nodding like a bobblehead on a bumpy ride. “That’s—totally fine.”

You hand him the smaller of the two boxes.

He opens it. A sleek, delicate pair of glasses. Not prescription. Just a look — something dignified, calm, an elegant reminder of his submission. “You wear those when you’re mine,” you say. opening the second box, “The collar’s only for play. But the glasses? That’s the symbol for our daily life.”

He slides the glasses on immediately — no hesitation, no second thoughts. They sit perfectly on his face, softening the sharpness in his jaw, giving him the exact look you imagined: cute, obedient, and just a little wrecked.

“So… that means I’m yours now?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, trembling with hope. It’s the kind of question you’ve already answered a thousand times without words by now, but you nod anyway — slow, steady, deliberate.

Pride blooms in your chest when his whole body slumps in relief.

He rises to his feet with shaky hands and then—without warning—sinks again. This time not to kneel, but to wrap both arms around your leg, hugging it with childlike desperation. And maybe it's the shortness of your dress. Maybe it’s just the way he clings, forehead resting against your thigh like it’s his new religion.

But when he shifts slightly… his face buries right against your heat. And you forgot one crucial detail.

No underwear.

You hear the shaky gasp he lets out when his lips brush against bare skin. Like the air’s been knocked out of him.

Then he’s groaning. Mouthing at you through the fabric, or lack thereof, completely unhinged, trying to kiss your cunt like a happy dog. His hands tighten on your hips. One thumb hooks the edge of your dress and tries to push it up like he has to see it—like looking might kill him but not looking is worse.

He moves back a little and what he does almost kills you from chock. He literally starts to act like a dog, tongue out, heavy breath. heavy leed begging eyes. his tongue licks your thighs, giving eyes to your cunt, sending the message.

“Let me give you pleasure mistress—” he pants like a dog, “I’ll be good.”

God, you want to. Your legs twitch with the effort to stay composed. But instead, your hand fists in his hair and tugs him back—not roughly, just enough.

“Drive me home. Now.”

The tension follows you too in the elevator. He takes your hand— this time with fingers laced with yours. As if the act alone might earn him another kind word. Halfway down, his head dips into the crook of your neck and stays there. You hear the shaky breath he takes, then another.

“You smell like... so good,” he mutters.

You scoff. “And you smell like desperation.”

He chuckles, but the sound dies in his throat when his arms wrap around you from behind— tight, possessive —and his hips press into you instinctively. Grinding a bit, even. Like he can’t help himself anymore, he wants you so bad.

“Jake,” you warn, as he jerks back. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I... Didn’t mean— I just—”

You don’t look at him, but your smirk is visible in the elevator’s reflection. He wants it so bad.

In his car, he speeds.Of course he does. Your legs are crossed in his passenger seat, the scent of you still thick in the air, and his hands tap on the wheel like he’s one red light away from losing his mind entirely.

“I'll gag you if you keep speeding.” The words drop just to tease him for your fun. And you don’t need to look to know his cock twitches.

“You’re still speeding, Jake.”

“I—”

“Keep going and you’re going to be punished for real, just telling...”

🕗

Jake's practically vibrating out of his skin the second you walk through the door.

Eyes locked on you like a dog waiting for the bell to ring, panting through his nose, fists clenched at his sides like if he doesn’t get your hands on him in the next thirty seconds, he might combust right there in your hallway.

And maybe he would. Maybe you should let him. Instead, you toss your bag to the side and kick your heels off without ceremony, not sparing him a glance. His cock’s already hard. You can see it straining under his slacks like it's got a heartbeat of its own.

Pathetic.

“Bedroom,” you say without looking. “Now.”

He scrambles. Actually stumbles. Nearly trips over the threshold like his legs aren’t working right — and you, patient thing that you are, grab him by the tie and spin him around so hard his back ends up smacking open the door of your room.

He gasps.

You don’t give him time to recover. One hand in his hair, the other squeezing his jaw until his mouth opens like instinct, and then you're kissing him like punishment — bite, tongue, zero softness. You bite his bottom lip until he whines, and it’s only then you really look at him.

Glasses crooked. Tie wrinkled. Pupils blown out like he’s five seconds away from begging.

You smile. Good.

“You said you’d behave,” you say, dragging the tie like a leash, walking him toward the bed like you’re guiding a fucking lamb to slaughter.

“I tried,” he pants, already flushed. “I—I swear, I tried. I Didn’t touch myself once. Not since last time. Not since” you grab his hard on, “—fuck—please—”

He’s babbling.

You shove him flat on the mattress and climb on top of him in one smooth motion, thighs framing his hips, your weight pressing down on his cock. He bucks up like a reflex. Dumb move. You slap his cheek — not hard, but enough.

He gasps. Blinks. Nods.

“Good boy,” you murmur, tone razor sharp. “Keep your hands to yourself or I’ll break them.”

He doesn’t even argue. Just melts. Spreads his arms out above his head like he wants to be tied down. So you do —his belt. You grab, and tie him up. His breathing’s already shaky, cock twitching where it presses against you. You lean down, letting your tits graze his face. His tongue sticks out like instinct, trying to lick, suck, anything— but you yank back. Now he can’t move.

“No.”

He whines. Actually whines. It’s disgusting.

“You wanna touch?” you ask, voice sweet and awful. “Want it?”

“Please,” he chokes. “Please, I’ll be good. Let me—fuck—let me leave marks, I want you bruised, I want to fucking bite you—”

You laugh, throwing your head back. “You?” you mock, grinding down against his cock. “You can barely speak without begging. You think you’re gonna do anything without my permission?”

He moans. Loud. His cock twitches violently under you, and you can see the panic settle in his eyes. He’s close. Way too fucking close.

“Haven’t even fucked you yet,” you whisper, dragging your nails down his chest. “And you’re already about to cum like a virgin on prom night.”

“I—fuck, I can’t help it—please, if you slow down—just a second—”

You plant your knees on either side of his head and sit on his face. He cries out with a smile on his face— muffled, frantic — and latches on like he’s starving. His tongue is wild, sloppy, more desperation than technique, and you grind against his mouth like it’s yours — because it is.

“This is where you belong,” you groan, hips rolling. “Under me. Crying. Leaking. Useless unless I’m using you.”

He moans, so loud it vibrates through your whole body. His cock? Red and angry and twitching untouched. He thrusts into the air, desperate for friction, and you just press down harder on his face. He chokes. It’s beautiful.

You ride his tongue until he’s crying and slows down.

Then you finally slide off, and he gasps like he’s coming up for air after drowning—because he was. His face is wrecked. His glasses are somewhere on top of his head. His mouth’s slick with spit and slick and somehow pride. His chest heaves.

You grab his face with your hand, waking him from his daze.

“Focus.”

He moans like you kissed him and you untie him.

“Collar,” you demand.

He fumbles for it with shaking hands, holding it out like a fucking offering, like you’re a god he’s trying to appease. “C-can you put it on me ?”

You snap it around his throat without ceremony. He shivers.

“Good. Now lie back and don’t move.”

You climb up, pull your dress over your head, bare and wet and glowing, and he’s practically crying just from looking.

His cock leaks like it’s apologizing. You press your foot down — slow, cruel — on his cock and balls, and he howls.

“W-wait—please—don’t—if you—if you keep doing that, I’ll—I’ll cum—!”

You press harder.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t you fucking dare. Not until I tell you.”

“I’m trying—fuck—I’m trying—”

You lean in — breath warm against his ear, one hand wrapped around his throat, firm but teasing, just enough to make him shiver.

“You’re lucky I don’t blindfold you, tie you up, and edge you for a fucking week,” you whisper, slow and mean. “No cumming. No touching. Just my voice in your ear while I whip you until you cry for it.”

He whimpers. It’s not even a sound anymore — just breath and broken vowels. His eyes roll back, his cock leaking like it’s begging to be used, untouched and pulsing like it could burst if you so much as looked at it too long.

You spit in your palm, rub yourself raw until you’re soaking, then sink down in one brutal drop.

He screams.

Not a moan. A scream. The sound punches out of him like you knocked the wind from his lungs.

And then you ride.

Hard. Fast. Messy. Punishing. Like you’re trying to fuck him into the mattress. Like your orgasm is more important than his survival. His hands are useless — clawing at the sheets, at the air, at nothing — because you haven’t let him touch you, and he knows better than to break that rule now.

He’s moaning too loud. Too desperate. You slap a hand over his mouth just to muffle the chaos spilling from him. Your hips don’t stop — bouncing, rolling, dragging him to the edge with every ruthless grind. His cock’s buried so deep you can feel it in your gut, and the way he looks up at you — glassy-eyed, mouth stuffed full of your palm, pure reverence — it’s enough to send your stomach twisting.

And then it shifts. Something flips in the air. You catch yourself leaning in, just a little too close. You’re still in control — you always are — but something about the way he’s watching you now, fucked-out and worshipping, makes your rhythm falter. Just once.

Jake sees it. Of course he does.

You see the exact second he realizes: you’re falling, too.

And he fucking loves it.

He’s chasing your orgasm now like it’s the only thing that matters. Like if he gives it to you, maybe — just maybe — you’ll kiss him.

You don’t say it. Don’t ask for it. But he knows.

He flips you with shaky hands, your legs locked tight around his waist before you even land. He fucks into you like he’s losing his mind — sloppy, desperate thrusts, slamming into you like he needs you to feel it.

“I’m close— fuck— I want you to cum too—”

“Me too,” you gasp, wrecked and ragged. One hand slams against the headboard as the other claws at his back. “Harder— Jake, please—”

And he delivers.

His rhythm turns frantic, almost cruel. You’re a mess beneath him, crying out, moaning his name in broken syllables.

“C-can I stay inside?” he begs, barely able to speak. “Please— I— fuck—”

You nod, frantic. “Kiss me.”

And he does.

He dives in like he’s starving for it, lips crashing into yours, moaning into your mouth as he cums — thick, hot spurts, wave after wave, his hips stuttering through it, unable to stop. The kiss is wet, messy, all teeth and breath and desperation. His cock twitches inside you, still buried to the hilt, still pushing in shallow little thrusts that make you shake.

It’s too much. Too wet. Too hot. Too full.

And it tips you.

You cum on his cock with a strangled cry, nails digging into his arms, your mouth still on his, tasting him, gasping into him as your whole body tightens and then breaks.

But you don’t stop kissing. Not even then.

His lips stay on yours through the aftershocks. Sloppy, slow, still trembling. His head dips to your neck, mouthing at the skin, soft kisses, little groans as he licks at your pulse.

You twitch under him every time his mouth moves, still too sensitive. He hisses at the way your walls pulse around him even now.

“Was I good?” you ask, breathless.

He nods into your neck like a kid, voice hoarse, cracked. “Yes. You— You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”

You grin. Can’t help it. Can’t hide it.

“So fucking perfect, huh?” you echo, teasing. And he kisses you again. And again. And again. Little kiss bombs, dotting your cheeks, your lips, your jaw — and you finally grab his face and still him.

Your smile twists into something darker.

“This is only the start,” you purr, your voice all breath and promise, panting into his mouth. “I have so many things I want to try.”

He nods — fast, frantic — like he needs it.

Like he wants to be wrecked. Used. Owned. And maybe, if he’s lucky — loved.

You’re going to give it to him. Every filthy, fucked-up fantasy.

Again. And again. And again.

Author’s Note: Finally here for the comeback, lol!! It took me so long to post this because I kept second-guessing if I really loved every part of it... But then I thought: just do it, fighting girl! 💪💗

@veilstqr — knowing you were waiting for it seriously helped me push through and finish it~ Hope I didn’t disappoint! Don’t just lurk, darling. Reblog it. Leave a comment. Let me feel you. Your silence is not nearly as thrilling as your reaction. So go on... show me you're watching.

© Lassiie

[isoobie]

BOYFRIEND STORIES 𓈒 sim jaeyun

◜ᴗ⁠◝⁠ instagram posts of you and your idol boyfie ⎯⎯ idol!jake x fem!rea ♱ fluff est—rs

bun─ri for @jjennuine to come back i miss you

[shy9-29]

omg I love seeing new creators on tumblr! But hear me out.. do you know how Jake was showing engene a video or smth on his laptop, then an ad came out and it sounded like a girl moaning?? Could you make it seem like it was actually jake and y/n’s intimate moment from last night that Jake recorded and it happened to be saved on his laptop? Tysm also early happy new years 🎉🥳

Uncovering Secrets: Jake’s Weverse Slip-up

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader

wc: 941

synopsis: your boyfriend Jake decides to go live on weverse in one of HYBE’s studio rooms, while you’re sitting off camera, waiting for him to finish. A specific comment comes up, leading Jake to turn on his laptop, revealing an intimate video of you two that he took from last night.

authors note: wow. Okay I’m proud of this one 🤓 also I’m pretty sure you meant this video but if not, I’m so sorry 😢 it took me quite some time to write this but lmk if you have any more suggestions as my requests are currently OPEN 🤗

warning: nsfw, harsh language, jake is an idol, minor degrading, protected sex, mentions of jungwon, not proof read recorded sex. lmk if I missed anything

age: 18+ minors dni.

—

As Jake began his Weverse Live for engenes, the viewer count were already at 900k people. Sitting at a desk, he placed his phone against a laptop, allowing them to see his face, but not his screen.

He scanned through the chat, which was brimming with comments, and a particular one caught his eye—“What song have you been playing non-stop?”

“Non-stop, huh?" Jake grins into the camera, contemplating for a moment before his lips curve into a sly smirk.

“There's this one song I can't seem to get out of my head recently." He looks back at his laptop, clicking on his mouse a couple times before turning back to the camera.

He momentarily diverts his attention to the laptop, his cursor clicking a few times before he refocuses on the camera. "So the song is called 'Overdrive' by Post Malone," he explains, his expression showcasing a cheeky yet playful side.

His gaze subtly flickers in your direction, noticing you scrolling on your phone with your legs crossed, waiting for him to conclude his live. “It came out-like yesterday, and it’s really good so imma play it,” he says. A sound of a mouse being clicked is heard afterwards.

Jake impatiently taps his foot, waiting for the laptop to come back to life. And then, without warning, the sounds of rhythmic slapping and guttural grunts, mixed with high-pitched moans, start echoing through the live feed.

Your heart sinks as you realize what's happening—it’s the video he took of your guy’s intimate session from last night. Frozen in your spot, you glance nervously at the laptop, hoping that his fans won't catch sight of you.

Jake panics as he tries to keep a casual demure, hoping there aren’t too many questions from engenes coming in. He mumbles something under his breath that no one can’t quite make sense of, a look of panic in his eyes.

“This is not it,” he says casually, the sounds of clicking getting faster as his laptop is frozen in place.

“Uh,” Jake says, his mind racing at the sight of the comments flooding in. “Wait,” he mutters. His eyes flicker back and forth between the frozen laptop and the camera. You then decide to take action, stepping behind the camera to end the live.

As the live feed abruptly ends, Jake lets out a sigh of relief, his heart racing. He turns to face you, his eyes wide with panic and embarrassment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” he grumbles, running a hand through his black hair, tugging at the strands.

The room fills with the sounds of the video you captured and Jake's labored breathing. You break the silence, your voice cutting through the air. "Jake, what's that video doing on your laptop?" you inquire, your gaze locked on the laptop, the video now showing Jake pounding into you relentlessly, your hair all messed up and ruined as you hear him saying, “yeah? being such a good girl for me huh?”

Jake's face turns beet red as he quickly slams the laptop shut, the sounds of your moans and his grunts immediately silenced. He avoids your gaze, his ears burning with embarrassment. “I-I don't know, it must have autoloaded or something...”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room, avoiding your accusing gaze. He knows he's caught red-handed, the evidence of his secret recording plain as day on the laptop screen. He swallows hard, his mind racing for an excuse, any excuse.

Finally looking at you, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment, he admits in a small voice "I... I recorded it because I wanted to watch it again. You were just... I got carried away..." He runs a hand through his hair again, tugging at the ends nervously.

You sigh at his words, slouching back down into the couch. “Okay..” you start off, “well what are you going to do with engenes? the whole video is downloaded onto weverse..”

His expression turns grave, his mind racing with the implications. He pulls out his phone, navigating to Weverse and seeing the numerous screenshots and clips being shared among engenes. He swallows hard, his palms sweating, then letting out a mixture of a sigh and a laugh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"They're either going to assume I'm just really horny or that I forgot to click off porn," he chuckles, attempting to lessen the tension as he stretches his arms behind his back.

His eyes meet yours, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in them* "Or both, probably," he adds with a faint smile, trying to lighten the mood. He stretches his arms behind his back, trying to ease the tension.

Suddenly, the door swings open forcefully, and Jungwon stomps into the room, an urgent tone in his voice.

"Jake, what did you just do?"

—

idssoowosos:dkskwi lwk I’d freak 😭 reblog to show support <3

[boyfhee]

MUNDANE

( 장르를 ) husband jake x reader ★ fluff, skinship─────i don’t know what this is. enjoy i guess

you think jake looks the prettiest in the little, mundane things he does every day.

no, he looks handsome all the time, really. although, there is a different kind of intimacy in the domesticity of having him around and watching him do the usual chores.

he gets out of bed, hair mussed and catches you staring at him. when he is out of the shower, you’re still staring at him, and when he is in front of the mirrors, fixing the cuffs of his shirt or fixing his belt through the loops of his trousers and fastening it— or better when he’s taking it off— only to get surprised when he catches you gawking at him again.

you watch him when he is carrying heavy stuff around the house— boxes, weights, anything, like they are air. how easily you can basically see his muscles flex at the movement, and it doesn’t help that he prefers to wear tank tops around the house.

worse— he carries you around with so much ease. you say you are tired and he would carry you all the way inside from the car. you don’t have to bother yourself with the stairs anyway. he would carry you from the bathroom to the bedroom after washing your hair, and he would pick you up and put you on the counter so you can shave his face.

sim jaeyun knows he is hot and sexy and it’s everything that makes you lose your mind.

and the way he runs his hand through his hair as a habit, the way he messes it up a little when he’s frustrated, or the way he ties it in a bun while cooking— cooking, which rather feels like a heavenly dance with the way the kitchen lights reflect off his skin, making him look angelic. there’s an apron, only an apron covering his bare chest, most of the time, or an undershirt on your lucky days— or not.

you think he does it on purpose, there’s no way he doesn’t know you’re crazy for him. his innocent smile melts your heart, while his hands that trace over your waist every time you pass by tell a whole different story.

but you would argue that he looks the best in his glasses, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, doing taxes and going through bills as he is right now.

there’s addiction in his fluid movements as he goes over calculations in his mind and works with the numbers, flipping through the papers. you can barely do anything else except sliding onto his lap, drawing an amused but not so surprised expression out of him.

“not now, baby. this is important,” he leans back on the chair, pushing his glasses up. jaeyun also looks pretty when he is looking at you with a serious expression.

and you love to tick him off, at times. “i know,”

he sighs at your antics, squinting his eyes at you. “where did you even spend seven hundred dollars—”

and he can question you as much as he wants if he is going to look at you with those half-lidded bedroom eyes, but you are in a mood for something else right now. “just shut up and kiss me, jaeyun,”

and like the good husband he is, he complies, tugging you closer by your waist. “as you wish, darling,”

[heetr]

daddy issues ── ( 심재윤 )

synopsis — jake works too much, but he loves harder. ── smut (m.), requested ( @riqomi ). dilf!jake x babysitter afab!reader. wc : 2.03k !

warnings — jake’s a few years older, (25). pet names: baby. unprotected sex (don’t be a fool, cover your tool) p.i.v. sex / pwp also. jake’s between the soft and rough dom area, y/n is down bad for her boss, jake’s a consent king, jake as a 3 year old toddler (s/n - son name), breeding (jake’s pull out game : weak.. pussy too good.)

two weeks ago… “s/n has already had a bath, a nice dinner, and his uniform for school tomorrow is out, hanging on his closet door. mr. shim.” you hummed, you’ve been babysitting for jake for a few months now. he was a few years older than you, a perfect mix of sweetness and tenderness. he was a tired hard working man, he had a minimum wage job—working in a corporate office, as an agent. “thank you, y/n seriously i don’t know what i would do without you.

and you? a college dropout who needed extra money until you found a job—but with the way jake pays you… you don’t need another one. “there are leftovers on the counter for you mr. shim, you’ve seemed to have had a long day. it’s my grandma's recipe, you’ll love it.” you assure him, he smiled. thanking you once again before placing your weeks worth of money in your hands.

you should have about five hundred dollars sitting in your palms right now. more than you’d usually give, but jake always threw a little extra on top. “do you think you’ll be available next week?” jake asked, hair messy and voice raspy from a long day of: “thank you for calling lee enterprises how can i help?” — “i was hoping so, we could do your monthly feedback and a dinner.. maybe? i still have to work but.. yeah.”

“are you asking me on a date mr. shim?” you were taken a bit aback, not rejecting it but not clearly understanding it either. did he want the dinner with just you and him or you him and friends.. “i thought we’d keep this a little professional.. yeah?” as he was still your boss you don’t think dinner is smart… not yet. “i’ll be available to work though… just text me dates. goodnight.” you smiled, walking away—now you just rejected a man on a date. and hopefully, his heart was bigger than his ego.

over the next few weeks, jake made it his mission to have at least a 10 minute long conversation with him every night. learning you, understanding your personality and your humor. what makes you sad, happy and what gives you the ick. he was feeling you, and he’s not sure how. or why.

“hear me out,” he walks into his kitchen. “we could take s/n to a baseball game? i’m inviting you because my friends are busy with their partners or working.. and s/n likes you y/n.” — “i’ll have to think about it mr. shim.” you chuckled while taking a drink of your water.

“jake is my name. you can call me jake. mr. shim is for when we’re working… and you’re not working.” hear made you laugh a bit—he was funny. flirty and you indeed felt something towards him. you’d finally started staying late, sometimes he’d bring takeout and you’d eat it together. brushing knees accidentally when sitting with each other. jake’s eyes always lingered. he could be staring at you, your lips. you nose… shamelessly your chest, thighs… ass. he was in love with your ass.

one night, he asks you to stay for dinner. real dinner. he cooks, a little clumsy but endearing, and you help, bumping shoulders and exchanging soft glances. also taking a few drinks… glasses of wine. a/n was upstairs sleeping, and your job was done. at first, you hesitated, drinking with your boss? but now. he made you feel comfortable like you were at home.

and now, today you’d decided to stay, longer than you ever had. it was around two in the morning and you and jake were up all night having conversations. he was so easy to talk to… you found yourself curled up on the couch, looking over and laughing at him as he talked about the most embarrassing thing to happen to him. “okay. it’s not that funny. i did think it was going to eat me..” he frowns playfully. “what about you? the most embarrassing thing you’ve done or had done to you.”

you were a bit tipsy, sipping on the wine jake poured for you an hour previous. “well.” you laughed nervously, not sure if you should spill it. “i have daddy issues, and every guy i’ve ever met has noticed that about me. it’s embarrassing because i always get left in the end… i kissed a guy once and he said i kissed like ive been hurt too many times… HUMBLED ME.” you covered your face, laughing now because it’s funny but back then—broke you .

jake only laughs a little, setting his own glass down. “i don’t see daddy issues, i see that you’re trying though.” he admits, “how about i kiss you, and let me see if i can taste it on your lips.” as much as you wanted to believe he was joking, he was not. you only looked at him, head tilting in disbelief. “do you think that’s appropriate, mr. shim?” 

“i thought you clocked out of babysitter duties, five hours ago? i’m not your boss right now, i’m a friend. a friend willing to help you learn the truth.” he nodded his head. you don’t know why that was so attractive, how he looked at you—how he protected you but was assertive with his attitude. he was honest… and we can all admit that he’s a handsome.. attractive man. who just so happens to be a father. an active father figure, it was so hot to you.

“okay. you have a point,” you say your drink down, moving closer to jake—practically crawling to him. you looked at his lips before looking into his eyes. jake placed his hands on your waist, pulling you to sit in his lap. right where he wanted you. it was unspoken—the attraction you both had to each other.

your lips finally touched. warm and synced almost instantly—like you were made to be right here. it was soft at first, then it got more intense. showing signs you both wanted each other. jake mutters against your lips. “you can tell me when to stop you know.” oh but you didn’t want to stop, and neither did he. 

jake’s hands slide down to your thighs, gripping hard enough to leave marks, pulling you closer until you’re straddling him fully. he groans into your mouth when you roll your hips against him, slow and teasing, feeling how hard he already is through his sweats. “fuck, y/n.” he mutters, voice wrecked, dragging his mouth down your neck. “been thinking about this all year.. every time i see you… you’re driving me fucking crazy.” 

you whimper when he nips at your skin, grinding down harder, your hands fumbling to push his shirt up. you need to feel him — all of him — need to get as close as you possibly can. he picks up on that, taking his shirt off before taking yours and tossing it away. “beautiful.” he looked at your chest, kissing and sucking at your skin. leaving only a few marks. 

you couldn’t believe what you were doing, how this could affect the both of you in the long run. “look at me,” he whispered, kissing up your neck and then your lips again. you hadn’t told him to stop, even if you did tell him—you didn’t want to. looking at him, it’s like he put a spell on you. your whole body relaxing under his touch. you hadn’t even realized he’d laid you down. 

“can i take your clothes off?” he asked softly next to your ear, settling himself between your legs. once you agreed, he wasted no time stripping you down. kissing over your skin with lust. “fuck you look so good…” he murmured. stripping himself next, moving his hand down to rub your core—feeling how you were already dripping wet and the sweet sounds embedding itself into his brain. “excited?” 

you shut your eyes in minor embarrassment, biting your lips as his finger worked its way around your clit. slow and sensual feelings shooting through your clit up to your chest. jake slipped a finger inside, then another. “so wet, warm. you smell good… it’s like you're reeling me in.” he chuckled, leaning over your body and brushing his tip along your slit. “ready?” 

“ready,” you said against his lips. without wasting any more time, jake slid into you—his own eyes squeezing shut. he’d been working so much he forgot what pussy felt like. “holy shit—.” you were so tight, maybe too tight for him. he had to work his way through it. there was no way he was passing up another night alone with you. 

your soft moans helped him through it, grabbing ahold of his shoulders. it took him a minute but he thrusted—in and out of you. slowly at first, making sure he felt how deep your velvet walls were. how stretched he’d gotten you. he was huge, and you could feel him everywhere.. it was quickly becoming an addiction. “fuck.. right there.” you moaned. 

he kissed you, deeply. like he was done playing nice. hands sliding up your sides and holding you down to the couch. keeping you exactly where he wanted you. the shift in his energy… the tension rebuilding in the air. he was ready to break. “you made it so hard to keep my hands to myself.” he sits up, holding your legs in place while rutting deeper into you. 

“always sitting there looking so good.. no matter what you wore. i always had to rub one out after you left.” he admits, his moans slipping through his words. “your body screamed at me to touch it.. take it. and sitting here. so easy. that just let me know that you wanted it as bad as i did baby.” 

the way he was talking, the way your cunt squelched with each thrust. it was driving him insane—he was so focused on it. on the sound—making you feel good and praying for the best outcome of it all. “look at you, falling apart beneath me..” was it even possible for him to get even harder? you felt it.. all of it. “fuck i’m so close..” you moaned, his free hand coming up to your neck, squeezing it and applying pressure. 

your tummy did a thing, like butterflies. you wanted it, you needed it. “fuck.. fuck me harder.” you covered your mouth, holding back as you started to get louder. but jake uncovered it, “let it out. let me hear you fall apart, tell me how good it feels. nobody can fuck you the way i do.” jake’s words were ripping you apart. into pieces, “that’s it..” 

your moans slipped, uncontrollably. you wish you could put into words how good it felt but he was rocking your world. it was too much, too good and your whimpers from the contact. told him he was doing an amazing job. he pulled out, earning a whine from you before slamming back into you. “so fucking desperate to cum..” he was mesmerized by you. 

everything he was doing, words couldn’t form in your mouth. only sounds and squeaks. even your eyes were rolling back—he moved his hands. watching how you rolled your hips up, matching his pace. “don’t stop, please.. please don’t stop.” you ran your hands down his chest. loving every second of it. “even your beg is so pretty.” 

“you’re gonna cum like this baby?” you nod, ready to release it whenever he was ready for you too. it was his world, you were enamored in it. his breath got shaky, thrust getting sloppier—louder. harder. “then let’s cum together.” his voice was dark, low—almost dangerous. your legs were shaking, you couldn’t hold it, clenching around him—uncontrollably. 

and then he growls, deep and rough, lips brushing yours as he says, “then do it. come for me. now.” and you do—hard, trembling, a mess in his hands as the pleasure crashes over you like a wave too big to fight. he holds you through it, grounding you, watching you unravel with a smug, look. jake spilled himself into you, practically claiming you as his. he was possessive over you already, and he couldn’t let anyone else have you. ever again. 

taglist ; @yoursjaeyun

[mioons]

‎ ‎ BOYFRIEND? HUSBAND! ✦ 我的老公！

ᐢ..ᐢ calling them your husband trend ✿ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝓁𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗑 𝒻𝖾𝗆. 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⟢ ( 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ) . . 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 638 ⟡

EN— | 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 ♥︎ CLiCK

LEE HEESEUNG

the moment he heard the word husband leave your pretty lips he was a blushing mess

bro tried to act nonchalant but ended up giggling throughout the whole recording

even after recording he was smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot

“hey everyone today i’m here with my husband and we’ll be rating flavours from wingstop!” you cheerfully said to the camera, making sure to place emphasis on the word ‘husband’.

when he first heard you, he thought he was hearing things and asked, “sorry baby could you repeat that?”

you flashed him a smug smile before repeating your sentence, “so today i’ll be rating wingstop flavours with my husband.”

if he heard the same word two times he was sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

throughout the whole recording of the video, he couldn’t stop smiling and holding your hand, peppering kisses to the back of them.

the title ‘husband’ sounded good on him.

PARK JONGSEONG

he would definitely be stunned at first, not knowing how to react and simply just staring into space

but after awhile his mood would be so much better than before

smiling at the camera, you waved with your one hand and held onto jay’s arm with the other. “hey guys! i’m here with my husband and we’re just doing a mini vlog!”

jay’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets. your voice sounded like a sweet sounding melody to him that he could listen to forever.

the thought of him actually becoming your husband made his heart beat a little too fast for his own good. he was really trying to keep his composure but there were one or two cracks.

he decided to play it cool and nodded his head before humming, “mhmhm.”

“husband,” he whispered into your hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “sounds wonderful.”

SIM JAEYUN

this man would not stop bringing up throughout the whole recording of the video

always making small little remarks about him being your “husband” and you being his “wife”

his confidence went 🆙 and he wouldn’t stop flirting with you

jake smiled at the camera as you started talking, introducing yourselves to the viewers. “hi everyone! it’s me and i’m here with my husband, jake, and today we’ll be doing a short Q&A session!”

“husband?” he repeated and raised an eyebrow at you, his lips upturned into a smile. “i’m your husband baby?”

his voice was smooth like velvet, making you blush and giggle awkwardly, “uhm..”

jake could only press a kiss to your forehead as he looked back at the camera. “mhm, i’m here with my wife,” he said to the camera, placing more stress on the word ‘wife’ just to make you even more flustered.

“let’s answer the first question hm? my darling wife.”

PARK SUNGHOON

many people think he wouldn’t have an reaction but this man would turn into putty in your hands

he can’t even finish a sentence without stuttering and tripping over his words

couldn’t even maintain eye contact with you for more than 5 seconds

“hi guys! it’s yn and today i have my husband, hoonie with us! we’ll be trying out two types of boba today!” you said, grinning from ear to ear.

sunghoon’s brain immediately shut down, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you.

“cmon hoonie, say hi to the viewers,” you nudged him by the shoulder, giggling. oh you definitely knew the effect you had on him, no doubt about that.

he gave the camera a lopsided smile, “hi— e-everyone.” anyone could tell he was affected by you calling him your ‘husband’.

you giggled at his introduction, leaning forward to press a kiss onto his cheek. “what a shy husband i have hm?”

taglist ╱ @en-gelic @flwrstqr @wonsdoll @dioll @won4kiss @suneng @tzyunaes @jakesangel

[naomiarai]

[smut] — 18+ mdni!

riding best friend!jake’s dick at his party, bouncing on his dick endlessly as you remind yourself repeatedly that he’d locked the door and no one would come in. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t know how you ended up like this, it was just like one of his usual partys, but as soon as you spurted out that you’d never rode cock before somewhere in the middle, jake had promised himself that you’d be leaving after getting that done. of course he had you say yes, it wasn’t a surprise, he’s hot and you definitely have sexual attraction towards him.

“can’t— please” you groan out as your legs ache and shake from the way you’ve been going up and down his dick. jake only displays a pretty grin on his face, halting your hips so he can take control. you can’t help but focus on the wet and sticky feeling beneath you, you’ve going for quite sometime, and the only person who’s came is you. “calm down, sweets. i’ve got you” he whispers assuringly, his hand on the nape of your neck burying your face into his neck. you can smell his perfume and it only arouses you more, getting you wetter. jake grips onto both of your asscheeks, slowly dragging your cunt up and down his cock followed by wet and lewd noises. the sudden start of pleasure has you whining against his neck, nipples of your tits pressed flushed against him hardening. you hear a deep echo of him cursing as he slams your hips down onto his dick, ass jiggling.

“fuck—! so good! f.. faster!” you moan out, lifting your buried head from his neck. and so he does, going even faster than before. your gummy walls clench down, his tip spearing at your cervix with no mercy. “yeah baby that’s it, shit! take it—” he rasps as he slaps your ass a couple times. there’s a tight burning sensation inside of you, the pure urge to cum building up quick. your eyes roll back to your skull, mouth left hanging as the dirty sounds of skin slapping cloud you. “fuckfuck–! gonna cum! fill me..up fuck please!” you say pathetically. jake chuckles at your words, amused by your desperation. you feel his cock twitch inside of you, spilling ropes of white into your abused and swollen cunt as you cover his dick in white :3

[okwonyo]

GET HER BACK ! ─── you and jake met each other back in middle school, during the short time you were together, you fell in love. but after leaving him for your hometown, you lost contact and you don’t even remember his face— when he surely does remember yours.

g childhood sweethearts who lost contact, idol!au, getting together, fluff & crack

w cursing, kys/kms jokes, suggestive jokes.

OO1 | OO2 | OO3

shelf ❤︎ got this idea from an au on twt a while ago ..

rbs ˊᗜˋ coms ｡quotidian

[sugarushwriting]

stalker! obsessed! jake sim x f reader

part 2

classmate jake x reader

warning: jake isn’t just nasty, there is content warning for cnc — if it isn’t your thing, walk away. now.

adult content featured, read at your own discretion.

enjoy.

it’s been about five days since you’ve had your fun television marathon with jake and his crew and you honestly enjoyed yourself.

since then you would find ways to immerse your friend group with his and it worked pretty well.

since then jake has grown more fond obsessed with you. “accidentally” running into you at the library, always at the cafe when you worked your shifts (mainly the shifts with ni-ki), seeing you crossing the street, just everywhere.

even places you don’t see him. like your own apartment.

last night jake couldn’t take it anymore. he missed watching your sleeping figure. he put on his big boy pants and broke into your apartment about an hour after you texted him goodnight.

it wasn’t hard, your landlord still hadn’t updated the locks, so they were old and janky. he suddenly got angry at the thought of a random man breaking in and doing something unimaginable to you.

jake would need to speak with your landlord about this issue soon.

jake crept in your apartment, no squeaks to be heard, and smoothly made it to your bedroom door with no issue. it was ajar, and he heard your light deep breathing, he was in awe.

you slept on your back, one leg straight, one bent, both apart, your underwear peeking from underneath the oversized, ratty shirt, that now laid halfway on your hip. your head was facing away from him.

as he stood over your sleeping figure and watched you, the tent in his sweats became noticeable and he couldn’t help himself as he took his cock out. he couldn’t help himself as he stroked himself to your unknowing figure.

he didn’t care about taking his time, he just wanted to come. he wanted to come to you, the thought of your bare skin, how sweet you would taste. how hot you’d feel once your bodies would touch.

before he could move or aim away, he came. jake came on your fucking thigh!

fuck, fuck, fuck! he chanted in realization and panic in his head as he came down from his orgasm. he had to clean you quickly. cock abandoned, he looked around your nightstand, seeing no tissue. so he had to go to your en-suite.

quickly grabbing toilet paper, when he came out you had slightly moved. and now your thighs were sticking together!

damnit!

jake tried his best to clean you up, but the way you moved, his come has rolled between your thighs and gotten stuck and sticky. he’d only be able to clean if he opened your legs and that meant risk waking you up.

he tried by gently touching you and you groaned and his heart went to his ass.

fuck he was in trouble. he’s a fucking forensic biologist in training! what if you wake up feeling the come? all you’d need to do is go to get it collected.

but his dna isn’t in the system!

doesn’t matter, the police would ask you what men you have been hanging around with lately and jake knows his friends would immediately look at him and know it was him.

he didn’t fuck you! he didn’t hurt you!

just violated you.

jake pulled at his locks.

not to mention his cock was still out, and semihard. he quickly tucked himself back in his sweats in shame.

so deep in thought, he hadn’t realized you waking up until he heard you clanking around your nightstand for your phone. he booked it out of your apartment as fast and quietly as possible.

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

“is it possible to come in your sleep?” you asked your best friend, manon.

jake went wide eyed and choked on his sandwich as he was mid chew. jay had to hit his back.

“girl, what are you talking about?” she chuckled.

you and her were currently sharing a picnic table outside with jake, jay, heeseung, and sunghoon.

you shrugged. “it’s just,” you bit your lip, looking at the guys, embarrassed to say it out loud, “i woke up with,” and you pointed to your leg.

“you brought it up, don’t be shy now.” manon teased and your face felt hot.

you huffed. “i woke up and my thighs were sticky, okay!”

manon chuckled, as three of the four boys were trying their best to look busy. jake was trying his best to keep calm.

manon lowered her voice, but the boys could still hear. at this point, you didn’t care. “was your underwear wet or anything?” she sipped her boba tea.

you shook your head. “no, not really. just sticky thighs. pretty sure i had a very intense wet dream.”

“how do you know it was a wet dream?” heeseung asked leaning in closer.

you teased with a smile, “why, hoping it’s you i dreamed about heeseung?”

jake wasn’t even mad at you casually flirting with heeseung cause wtf? was you actually covering for a guy that came on your thighs? while you slept! or did you really think you had that much of an intense orgasm?

heeseung leaned back, clearing his throat. with a laugh, cheeks going red, “no, i, uh, maybe,”

“just making sure nothing more sinister happened.” sunghoon finished for him.

manon laughed, “believe it or not boys, girls can have wet dreams and come too.”

jake laughed nervously, sunghoon and heeseung watching the boy closely.

and not even 15 minutes later, after you and manon went to your next class, sunghoon had jake pushed against a row of lockers in a men’s locker room by the collar of his shirt, with heeseung next to him.

“what the fuck did you do!” sunghoon growled.

“i didn’t do anything!” jake squeaked.

“then why did she wake up with sticky come on her thighs, jake!” heeseung snapped.

jake pushed sunghoon off of him. “you heard her! she said she had a wet dream!”

“then why did you nearly die by sandwich?”

“because what she said caught me off guard! i already think she’s hot! imagine hearing a girl you think is hot say that while mid chew! i had to calm my mind and dick down, ‘kay!” jake sniped back defensively.

heeseung and sunghoon stared at jake then looked at each other, then back to him. sunghoon spoke first, “if you did something stupid,”

“we won’t hesitate to turn you into the damn cops.”

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

it was now friday and your elective course with the boys just ended, your professor telling the class to enjoy the weekend.

“are you guys having the television marathon tonight?” you asked hopeful, turning to the four.

sunghoon shook his head. “can’t, promised to volunteer to help my old coach with some ice skating lessons.”

“coaching some middle schoolers with basketball.” heeseung added.

“im having dinner and a movie with my mom.” jay smiled shyly. “she and my dad live over an hour away.”

your shoulders shagged. “aw boo. curse yall for having good hearts.” you turned to jake. “what about you?”

“nothing.”

your eyes lit up. “great, i can come over—,”

“you can’t,” heeseung began, your eyebrows knitted in confusion, sunghoon finishing the sentence.

“we are also leaving for the night because of our landlord is doing the needed annual bug, exterminating thingy.”

“right!” jay snapped his fingers.

you pouted. “jake, where will you go?”

“no worries, i have somewhere.” jake mumbled, looking to sunghoon and heeseung, rolling his eyes.

“why not come to my place then? you can spend the night!”

“because he doesn’t want to do the marathon without us, right jake?” heeseung gritted through his teeth.

jake looked at heeseung then looked at you, who had the biggest pout on your face with doe eyes.

with a smile he said, “i’d love to.”

jake was quick to avoid his friends the rest of the afternoon, and up until the evening he began to pack an overnight bag to your place.

heeseung crossed his arms at his doorway. “you’re a fucking idiot.”

“why? for finally taking a chance on a girl i have a crush on?”

“no, for finally taking a chance on a girl you are fucking obsessed with.”

“i’m not obsessed with her heeseung.” jake argued through gritted teeth.

“you’re stalking her.”

“i’m not stalking her!” jake huffed quickly turning to heeseung. “i’m simply observing her habits and making sure she’s safe, okay? it’s not like i’ve kidnapped her—,”

“if given the chance, you would kidnap her in a heartbeat.” sunghoon said coming up beside heeseung. “behave, we don’t have bail money.”

“well i do, but im not using it on you.” jay said in the background.

30 minutes later he was on his way to your apartment, hand raised to your front door. he had to time it right as he was halfway to your apartment when you texted him your address forgetting that you never gave him your apartment complex prior to this.

hearing the knocks, you smiled, and skipped to the front door, seeing jakes widening smile as you opened the door. “glad you could come! we can enjoy the movie marathon and you don’t have to worry about the loud snoring from your friend you were going to crash with.”

“thanks again,” jake laughed quietly, and walked in your apartment behind you, letting you take the lead.

in comfortable solitude, you and jake enjoyed the marathon for the next few hours, enjoying ramen, soda, and soju. in between breaks you both would talk about random topics, getting to know each other a little better, and soon learned you both had things in common.

“not to blame the victims, because it’s never their faults, on the fucking creeps,” you began and jake turned slowly to you, his ears becoming red,

“huh?”

“i mean, how do they not notice someone creeping around, stalking them? i can just feel when someone is watching me or around me. i’m too much of a light sleeper, i wake up to every little noise.” you said, and jake nearly aspirated on his soju.

“fuck, really?”

you gave jake a weird look. “yeah, why?”

this time jake gave you a weird look back, looking for any tale. were you lying? looking for him to give himself up? maybe you thought you were a light sleeper but wasn’t.

“what would you do if you found a man in your room staring at you?” jake asked.

“fucking punch him, duh.” you laughed. “well, after i scream most likely.”

while you were laughing at the funny thought of it, jake began to laugh nervously.

around 11 that night you yawned, jake smiling at how cute and beautiful you were to him, forgetting about earliers conversation. “tired, princess?”

your cheeks felt hot, but you nodded. “yeah, long week with classes and work.”

“why don’t we put a pause on this marathon and pick it up tomorrow? let’s get some rest.”

you nodded in agreement. “you can sleep in my bed since you were nice enough to let me sleep in your bed last time. i’ll sleep on the couch.”

jake shook his head. “i’m not kicking you out of your bed. i’ll be okay on the couch.”

“my couch isn’t that comfortable for you, jake. if you don’t want to share a bed, at least sleep on my bedroom floor. it’ll be more comfortable than this couch.”

it’s not that jake didn’t want to share the bed with you, but he was trying his best to behave. “that works.”

as you got jakes makeshift floor bed ready, and cleaned up the living room, he got ready for bed in the bathroom. when he was done, you quickly got ready, and joined him in your room, sleeping in black athletic shorts and an oversized shirt.

“night jake.”

jake said goodnight, and soon you both were asleep. well or so you thought. you were asleep after an hour. jake laid wide awake at the the thought of you just inches away from him, within reach. he was hard, and had so many different scenarios running through his mind.

one of them included you riding him on this makeshift bed of his. another had you bent over the edge of your bed. soon his thoughts were running so wild he couldn’t help but pull himself out of his pants and stroke himself to your sleeping figure.

you were so close, yet so far. he stood up slowly and quietly, waving his hand in front of your face, the other holding his freed cock.

you didn’t move. didn’t flinch.

jake let out a quiet sigh and began stroking himself again, biting back his whimpers through his teeth. he took the chance and pulled your blanket from your figure, revealing your bare legs. he only wished he could be inbetween them right now.

almost like you read his mind, your legs fell apart in your sleep as you switched sleeping positions. jakes hands had minds of their own, hovering over your thighs, aching for a touch, a taste.

he can’t. almost as if reality slapped him, he moved his hands. however, when he went to step away, he hand was grabbed.

by yours.

but you were still sleeping. or so it seems.

jake swallowed nervously. “if you want me to continue, squeeze my my finger once, pause for a few seconds then squeeze twice.”

his heart nearly dropped in his ass when you did so.

you may have been ‘asleep,’ but you were awake for it all. you enjoyed this. you liked it. jake almost thought he was imagining it, and was going to walk away again, but you grabbed his hand tighter, pouting your lip, never opening your eyes.

“just be a good girl and lay there for me.” jake whispered. “i’ll take care of you.”

your hand dropped back next to your body, and you pretended to go back to sleep. you rolled onto your side, back facing away from jake.

jake easily rolled you onto your back once again so he had easy access. you groaned, pretending to be disrupted while asleep. jake played along, pausing to not awake you.

once successfully on your back, jake easily slipped your shorts off, your shirt bunched to your sides, and as much as he wanted his tongue between your thighs, his dick needed it more right now.

and that really woke you up.

“fuck, jake!” you moaned, arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders.

“couldn’t stay still and quiet for long, huh?”

“can’t help it!” you huffed out. “you’re fucking thick!”

jake pulled out to his tip, and literally slammed back in rocking your bed, hitting the wall.

“how long have you’ve known?” jake groaned as he fucked into you, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands planted on your ass.

“i had a hunch,” you moaned out, “but it was confirmed when heeseung interrupted you that night.”

“fuck,” jake groaned. the night he literally lost it and snuck back into his room.

“wish he hadn’t interrupted you, jakey. wanted you so bad.” you moaned, reaching up to grip the bed sheets. “was so wet for you all night.”

jake fucked into you harder if possible. “should’ve done this sooner.”

“yes! yes you should’ve!” with the way jake was pounding into you, the words came out a bit spaced out and with different tones.

it didn’t take long for you to come and for jake to pull out and come on your thigh.

“by the way, i know it was you who came on my thigh. thanks for leaving a mess. good to know i have that much power over you jake sim.”

© work of sugarushwriting | do not repost as your own or translate

inbox is lonely, send me stuff!! 💌

leave comments, questions, ideas, reblogs, likes, all of it!!! 😻🤍