ikigaitsuki

[ikigaitsuki]

haine

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Summary: It’s arguably unfortunate how your least favourite colleague in the building has you in a compromising position, tears staining your eyes. Kang Yeosang would beg to differ, however, because you’re just so pretty when you cry.

Pairing: Yeosang x fem! reader

Genre: Smut (there’s also like a pinch of enemies to… fuck buddies?? idk)

TW: none apply

CW: unprotected sex, dacryphilia, dirty talk, exhibitionism, yeosang is a little nasty tbh

Word count: 2,143

Part of the 12 days of xxxmas series

How it started? Nobody can really put a finger on it.

From the snide, sneaky comments that almost - almost went unheard, to the sniggers and glances at a small mistake, an exemplar of human error.

From the intentional bumping shoulders when one is carrying a heavy load to using the last scoop of coffee from the canister in the staff room - such small things one shouldn’t really mull over, but you do, and he does too.

Because they’re not simple accidents or a lick of the draw. They’re intentional, they seek out anger in even the smallest of forms, and deliver a smirk to the one that’s won the most current round.

Kang Yeosang has been sitting in that same office chair for the year you’ve worked at this company. Kang Yeosang has always had his desk adjacent to yours - a very, very bad choice, you think, because there’s nothing worse than having to share a workspace with someone you hate the back teeth of.

He finds himself in the same meetings as you, ensuring the door closes before you reach it once they’re finished. He’s so adamantly ‘sorry’ that he couldn’t bring in your Starbucks order because he simply didn’t have enough room for it to be brought back despite his many trays of hot and iced beverages for other colleagues.

“Yeosang,” he ignores you as he dips his digestive into his coffee cup, legs folded over one another as he relaxes into the navy blue colour of the staff room sofa. Opting to stand in front of him, his attention finally gathers, “There’s a meeting at 5, alright? Room 201,”

He just shrugs you off, same old look in his eyes that he could care less that it’s coming from you.

Yeosang is so cold to you. Even as a newcomer just over a year ago now, he’s the only colleague that never made you feel welcome. Even when you decorated your desk with little trinkets for your own personal stamp, he ensured that you never felt like this place was one you belonged in.

The conversation of ‘Hey, Yeosang. I feel like you don’t like me’ very abruptly ended with a ‘You’re right. I dont’, and you’ve never questioned it since, despite the sheer confusion of it all.

Usually, you enjoy your lunch break in the staff room, idly flicking through channels on the TV that hangs on the wall, but with Yeosang’s presence you exit abruptly. The scoff from his throat isn’t unheard.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Yeosang! What the fuck was that?,” you sneer, papers flying from the desk with the force you throw them down with.

Only mere moments ago in the staff meeting, you witnessed Yeosang taking credit for new marketing ideas that were your own work. No matter how much you hated one another, he’d crossed a line further than you’d ever imagined he could.

“What was what? Me doing business?,” he throws his hands in his pockets as he stares through the large glass windows of the 27th floor office space, “If I didn’t say anything, nobody would’ve heard a word from you,”

“But they’re my ideas! Yeosang, I didn’t say anything because they weren’t ready,”

“Seemed ready enough to me. You’re always working on them, no?,”

He was right, you’d spent far longer than other colleagues working on project proposals and ideas that would be innovative, inviting, new. But now, to have those stolen from you, earning applause and positive words from others as Yeosang wrongly stood tall and proud and explained throrough ideas he confidently told others were his, upset you more than it angered you.

“You look hurt,” Yeosang half smiles at your teary eyes, “Are you going to cry?,”

You don’t even have words for him as you quickly try to throw the disorganised papers into your bag. With others now long gone, you want to clock out and get out of the place too.

But it doesn’t work as easily as you’d wish.

For the tears now streaming down your face leave you with a harsh feeling of embarrassment.

The brushing of a fingertip over your sodden cheeks makes you flinch, but the touch doesn’t make you feel fearful at all.

It brews a strange feeling when you watch Yeosang taste the tears he wiped onto his fingers, “You taste salty,”

“Yeo-,” you’re cut off as he pushes you back onto his desk, stationary and the computer keyboard that lay there being disregarded elsewhere.

It’s a moment happening all too quickly for you to really process.

“You hate me, right?,” he asks, heated look in his eyes as clumsily pulls loose his tie. There’s an oddly salacious tone in Yeosang’s voice that’s entirely unfitting for the situation.

Through the tears clouding your vision, you sob softly, “So much,”

Yeosang mulls over his next words for a moment, uncertainty in the way his brows furrow and return to their normal position. He looks at you one last time before his lips reach your ear, “Then let me fuck it out of you.”

There isn’t a way to describe the feeling that washes over you, that tightens around your abdomen and keeps you in place. There isn’t a way to describe that as much as you tell yourself you hate this, you really don’t at all.

Your hands can’t work fast enough at the buttons on Yeosang’s shirt, hands shaking in the process of tugging the material from his skin. His body radiates warmth, and you have to stop yourself mid-way through unbuttoning - because here is no place to find yourselves stark naked.

You ogle at the way Yeosang slips off his belt with ease, only unzipping and pulling down his trousers enough to let his erection be freed. It’s embarrassing how much you feel yourself lusting at the sight of him, hand loosely stroking himself to complete hardness.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll think you just wanted to fuck me all along,” he grins with his words, arrogance seeping through that on a normal workday you’d hate - but right now you can’t quite get enough.

“Shut up.” you bite back, a loss for words filling your throat.

Unbuttoning your blouse entirely, you let into Yeosang’s vision your lacy bra - a garment entirely unintentional that the man before you probably won’t believe if you tried to argue against it.

The way his lips attach to your breasts almost instantly makes your fingers curl and grip his hair, soft kisses around the flesh before he’s pulling the fabric down to reveal your hardening nipples.

“You’re very responsive towards a person you’re meant to hate,” Yeosang hums in mockery, noting the way you let your head drop back and soft moans escape your mouth.

“I like you much better when you don’t talk.” you quip, and he quietens to focus on you.

He pulls up your skirt to let the fabric gather around your hips, hands not even working to discard your underwear, instead merely pulling it aside.

You can’t blame him, really. If you don’t hurry up, you’ll be penalised for clocking out after official work hours.

Brushing his tip between your cunt, Yeosang sighs. Already so wet for him at such minuscule actions, you should feel shame, but alas, you feel none.

Yeosang’s thumb wipes over the dampness of your tear stained cheeks as he pushes inside you to bottom out. The contrast between the actions - one so sweet and almost endearing, the other lewd and intimate, perfectly encapsulates Kang Yeosang.

A confusing, complex man, even when having sex.

It’s even more confusing that your body reacts so openly, so ready for him, despite the loathing for him that engulfs you.

Yeosang doesn’t take his time with his motions, hips slamming into yours relentlessly and it has you trying to grip onto anything left on his desk that could possibly offer support. You try to ignore the way your legs spread wider; try to ignore the way Yeosang grips onto the flesh of your thighs to help pull you back onto him.

A particularly hard thrust has your breath hitching, and Yeosang giggles, “You fucking love it,”

“I fucking hate you,”

His lips ghost over yours, so close, and in any other circumstance would you find yourself reaching to meet in the middle. There’s an unspoken agreement of, ‘Can we really do this?’ because despite the intimacy of sex, the admiration shared between a kiss feels much more intense.

But nevertheless, the warning signs are discarded as your lips attach. Rough, messy synchronisation between your tongues and the nibbles on lower lips makes the pair of you whine out slightly into one another’s agape mouths.

The eye contact you make once your lips break from one another harbours complexity, something uncertain.

“Yeosang,” you moan as his thumb rubs slowly over your clit.

“Talk to me,” he responds.

“Feels really good, really good,”

“A compliment from you?,” there’s an element of surprise in his tone as he watches the way your face contorts into pleasure, “I must really be doing a good job.”

It’s a back and forth of remarks, anger dissipating with each sharp thrust Yeosang drives into you. It almost makes you forget that you’ll have to return to this workspace on Monday, that same familiar desk of yours directly next to his - an omen.

Your hands find purchase on Yeosang’s shoulders, grip harsh as your fingertips dance around the heat of his neck. There’s veins prominent from the force of his thrusts, and you lose your mind in him all the more.

The tears that sting your eyes from the sheer pleasure begin to pool out, mascara running even worse than it previously had.

“God, you look so pretty when you cry,” Yeosang growls, animalistic in his stature and you’re sure now that the man must be a sadist, for there’s no explanation for the way you feel his cock inside you throb with every tear that falls, “Tell me, who are you crying for?,”

“You,” you choke out, desk shuffling heavily on the floor, “Y-you, Yeosang!,”

The man before you bites his lip so harshly at your words that you think he might break the skin, a look of utter satisfaction on his face.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” Yeosang moans out, pulling out quickly to pump himself, “Keep playing with yourself.”

And you follow his orders, gripping your nipple between your fingers as you roll your other hand over your clit at the pace you’ve practiced many a time. It’s not long before the coil that tightened inside you snaps - long, breathy moans exuberating from your tender lips, calls of his name as the soft tears never cease.

Yeosang pumps himself a few more times, languid strokes of his cock before ropes of his cum stain your skirt and paint your inner thighs.

There’s a moment of silence that lasts a lifetime, harsh breaths as you both try to recollect yourselves, make sense of the situation and understand just how this really happened.

Lazily grabbing his phone from the desktop, Yeosang checks the time, “Plenty of time left to clock out before we’re penalised,” he smirks as he begins to tuck himself back into his trousers.

“Don’t start getting any ideas,” you grimace as the white liquid begins to seep into the dark fabric. Your poor skirt is probably, no, definitely ruined - again all at the hands of Mr Kang Yeosang.

You ready yourself as much as possible - which really isn’t much considering the messiness of the circumstances, and Yeosang hands you his suit jacket to cover up the mess he’s made.

“I’m sorry about that,” there’s a shyness in his voice, an apology that finally, finally has an ounce of sincerity.

“It’s fine, I guess,” you shrug.

“No, seriously. About everything - I shouldn’t have said your ideas were mine,” he cups your cheeks, wiping the dried mascara that lay there now, “I don’t wanna see you cry,”

“Oh, really?,” you scoff, sarcasm in your tone as you gather your things and make your way towards the elevator faster than Yeosang can catch up to you.

“Not unless it’s because of my cock,” he finalises as he reaches the elevator door with you. There it is. Typical.

“Well then,” you press the button to the ground floor, Yeosang’s figure still stood outside and you press the close button swiftly, “I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Kang,” you smile politely as the doors finally come to a close.

Yeosang stands there in shock, laughing lightly to himself as he realises there’s yet another competition arising between you both.

He just can’t wait, and neither can you, for Monday to come around to see what’s in store.

Perhaps hating one another proved to be not so bad, after all.

© ikigaitsuki. no unauthorised copying or reposting is allowed.

[ikigaitsuki]

yeahhhhh this one hits the spot

EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)

Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 

minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it

WORDCOUNT― 12.7k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 

CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex

SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.

NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”

Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.

“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 

You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 

“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”

Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 

“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”

You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.

Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.

Fucking quiet.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 

Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio

You: I think you’re lying. 

Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol

You: why would i help you lie to other women

Jake: i’m not lying!!1

You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 

You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?

Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after

Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk

You: send me the playlist

Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 

You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 

You: surely it’s not your playlist…….

You: anyway

You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?

Jake: yea

You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything

Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 

Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before

You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?

Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin

You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?

You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 

You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.

Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 

Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 

You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 

You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 

Grandpa Jake: :| 

Grandpa Jake: im 21

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 

You: it’s been like four days since we started talking

Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five

You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?

Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol

You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something

Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.

Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis

You: prove it

Grandpa Jake: right now???

You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 

You: answer my question first

It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 

Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 

Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!

He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 

You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 

Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 

Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did

You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?

Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in

You: WHAT

You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 

Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend

You: phew 

Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 

The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 

You: yeah, sure. 

You: about the micropenis though, 

Grandpa Jake: right…um

A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.

You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 

Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn

He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 

Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.

He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 

Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 

In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.

You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 

Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 

Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 

You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis

You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.

Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 

“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.

“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 

The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 

God, this alone is enough for him right now. 

“Were you at least thinking of me?”

He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 

“Were you looking at my pictures?”

He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.

“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 

“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”

“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”

“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.

“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 

“I can facetime you.” 

He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 

“No! no, we can facetime–”

Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.

You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.

Oh fuck.

There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.

“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”

He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.

“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”

You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 

“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”

“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 

In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?

“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”

He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 

“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”

You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 

“Better?”

Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 

“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.

“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”

Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 

“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 

His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.

His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 

“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.

“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”

You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 

“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 

“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 

“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”

Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.

You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 

His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 

“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”

“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”

After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.

“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.

“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”

His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 

“You still wanna see me after this?”

You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.

“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 

“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 

“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”

You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?

You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???

Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours

You: or you could just come here? 

Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol

You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird

Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 

You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 

Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 

Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 

“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”

“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”

Jake laughs, or snorts really. 

“Oh, she’s real.”

Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 

“Hm? Have you already met her?”

“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”

Silence.

“She got naked.”

“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 

“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”

Then he hangs up. 

Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?

You: yeah kinda

You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.

“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 

You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 

“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”

“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”

“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”

“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 

“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”

Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 

“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 

“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”

He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 

“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”

“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 

He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 

“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 

So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”

“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 

You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.

“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”

You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.

“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”

Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 

“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 

“Thanks, that’s the plan.”

And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 

Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 

“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 

He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 

“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”

You give him a knowing look before nodding. 

You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.

Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 

Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 

“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 

“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”

Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 

“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 

“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 

“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 

“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”

Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.

When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 

Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 

He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 

Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself

And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.

“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”

Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 

You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”

Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.

He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 

Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 

It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.

You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 

He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 

For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 

His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 

If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 

“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”

“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”

Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.

You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 

You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.

Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 

“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 

At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.

“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”

He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 

It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 

“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 

“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.

You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 

He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 

He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 

It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.

Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 

“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 

He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 

You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 

“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 

It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.

“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 

He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.

All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.

He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.

“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 

There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.

Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 

Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 

You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 

He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.

“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.

You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 

“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”

He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.

“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.

“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”

His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”

The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 

“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 

Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 

He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?

Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 

You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 

He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 

It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 

How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 

He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 

He’s in love.

He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 

“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 

“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.

“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”

“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 

You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 

His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 

“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.

Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?

“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”

You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 

“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”

He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?

But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 

“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”

He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 

You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 

“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.

“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”

He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.

He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.

He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.

“Already?” 

He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 

“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”

That’s new. Twice in one session?

“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”

You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 

You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 

You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 

His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 

“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”

You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 

“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.

Because of course it works. 

You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 

He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 

You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 

After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 

He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.

And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 

The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 

He’s so focused on you.

Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 

He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 

You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 

“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”

He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 

“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”

“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”

His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–

“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 

“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”

He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 

Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.

“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 

You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 

You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 

You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.

“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 

He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 

“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”

“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 

He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 

“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”

He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 

“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 

You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 

“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 

“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 

You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 

He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 

By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.

“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 

He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 

Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 

You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 

His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 

You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.

That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 

You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.

You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 

He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 

For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 

You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.

“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”

He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 

You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 

You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 

“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”

Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 

“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.

He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 

It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 

Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 

By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 

He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.

In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)

All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 

But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.

You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.

There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.

And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.

The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 

This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 

“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”

He looks at you, and then at his food.

“Yeah, I guess I should…” 

“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”

It’s silent for a minute.

“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”

Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.

Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 

You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 

Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?

“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”

Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 

“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”

You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 

“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 

Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 

“Put him on speaker.”

Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#🌓 — fic recs #jake smut #mmmmmm #this was so enjoyable to read #🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[ikigaitsuki]

hello! here’s a small update

i keep seeing new followers and interactions and anons so i thought id actually take a second to finally give some sort of “what’s been going on in gai’s world”

to start, i can’t remember the last time i even wrote. it’s been over a year, i know that. to still have regular interactions from followers old and new is very lovely - i appreciate it so much.

i know there’s things i’ve written here that people have been waiting forever practically for the second parts. i honestly didn’t think id ever come back to finish them.

a part of me wanted to disappear from here entirely and another part really appreciated this little space i’d created. there’s been a lot of my favourite mutuals slowly leaving this platform and it becomes very isolating when you’re funnelling out work and not maintaining these online relationships.

however, writing is something i want to get back into. it’s hard, because i’m really living an adult life now and the time i have is just not what i had when i first started this account. i can’t say “hey, i’ll write again in 3 days, months, years”, i have no time frame. im also not as into the whole kpop scene as i used to be, which makes inspiration pretty bleak for me. our interests fluctuate though i suppose!

if i ever wanted to give this up completely though, you’d know about it. there’d be some post like this where i’m saying goodbye or something lmao. that’s not happening.

i’m so entirely grateful for the people that continue to give me even the smallest feeling of “ok yes i can get back into this” because that’s so huge for me. id love to write again and make stories for the people who want to read what i have to say. im not sure if i sound dramatic but being able to give to you my creative outlet is just so massive. i’m giving you my creative mind, and that is so vulnerable. my work is always so well received, and people have such lovely things to say. thank you.

i’ve also had major indexing issues with this account. so posting has been hard because nobody actually sees it? i’m actually a major loser when it comes to technology and so messing around with coding and stuff just knocked the life out of me - another reason why i just gave up a little with writing. it’s not about having thousands of notes, but when you’re posting and nobody is going to see it apart from through reposting (which i assume people are still abysmal at) it’s just not motivating.

anyways, i’m not sure if this is something that people will read and feel happy over, but nonetheless i’m putting it out there. in not going awol, im in the process of discovering what i want to do going forward.

if you’re reading this, thank you, always. and don’t forget, you can message me, send me an anon, do whatever! i don’t bite. you might not see me active every day here but i pop by regularly.

- gai

#gai: 💭

[ikigaitsuki]

i forgot about this little treasure!🥰🥰

ᥫ᭡ WE’RE ABOUT TO LOSE EACH OTHER AND I’M FRIGHTENED | y.ji

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Summary — On this field, filled with trees and dandelions and daisies, is a pair of lovers who’s hearts must part but their souls never will. Who will lose in love but not in life. Who are afraid to part but know — they will find one another again.

Pairing — jeongin x gn!reader (they’re wearing a dress but that’s as specific as it gets)

Genre — smut, angst

CW — unprotected sex, kinda public sex, cream pie, marking (hickeys), it’s actually pretty tame

WC — 1864

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hands, fleeting. Ankles brushing over the newly grown dandelions, sending the pollen flying everywhere. It dances in a strange way – it looks rhythmic, intentional, but in reality, it is as lost as the individuals running between it. It will land wherever it chooses, and grow in that space, awaiting more star-crossed lovers to disrupt its roots.

In his hands, he holds another. The skin warm to the touch, with each ridge and line indented into his memory. He never wants to forget this touch for as long as he lives. And in his other hand, he carries a picnic basket. It’s filled with sandwiches with only a small selection of fillings. There’s biscuits and fruit because he couldn’t quite think of what to pack. He counts himself to be no cook.

The weight of the basket feels so heavy in his arms despite bearing no weight.

His heart feels heavy in his chest, and he swears that this is the first time he’s ever been able to feel such a thing. He doesn’t know whether he wants to throw up or cry. Maybe both.

“Jeongin,”

His family resides on the richest part of the city. With large houses and seemingly everything within their attainment, it feels like an entirely knew world to someone who has never experienced such a thing. Jeongin knows no different, because he was always raised like this. Jeongin knew no different. But he is still kind.

His farther works in technology. It’s a recently new development, so he makes even more money than the average person can imagine. He’s humble, despite it all – a kind man who seeks pleasure from interactions with any sort of person. He likes to help people. He likes to be the reason for change. Most of all, he is proud of the man that his son is growing to be.

His mother is slender and kind – he has her eyes. She’s a surgeon, so she works long hours and on occasion, looks very tired. Although, that is a rarity. She also is well put together. She perhaps is a little shyer than Jeongin’s father is. She may not be the first person you can hear in a room, but she will be the first person you lay eyes on. She is simply gorgeous, and Jeongin is a beautiful reflection of that.

“Jeongin,”

His father recently received a new job opportunity. One that required the family to move to a new country. It may well be the turning point of his career, although that it itself is highly commendable. He sat for a while in silence whilst he processed the news. Here, this is where he lives. But he’s never considered this place home. This merely is a steppingstone. Now that his father has fulfilled his time here, he believes it is time to move on to the next place, so he accepted the job offer.

Yang Jeongin’s house looks bare. It is bare, because he’s moving across the country in under a day and his entire life has been packed into boxes and suitcases.

“Jeongin,” he is removed from his daze, “You’re crying,”

He touches his cheeks, which perspire with heat. His fingers return to his line of sight, and they confirm your statement, “Ah. So I am.” His voice comes out near a choke. He’s embarrassed.

You see, Jeongin feels like a dandelion seed. He was finally settled his roots, he has finally begun to grow in this place he had learned to call home. He had finally found everything that he wanted. But then soil was disrupted and he feels lost. He is floating around.

He wants the Earth to swallow him up. His tears won’t stop. He looks into your eyes and sees stars. He sees the entire universe. He sees the sunrise and the sunset and he sees the interchange of the seasons. He feels you in his orbit; he feels you running through his veins.

And then he realises that he has to leave you, and he sobs.

You’re in love.

It’s naïve and silly and people would probably question why the son of such a successful couple would fall in love with someone so ordinary­, someone, that, if you passed on the street, would hold no significance at all. Replaceable, that’s what they’d think.

But Jeongin doesn’t think so.

Even as your lip wobbles as you try to pour him a drink of pink lemonade that you bought from the nearest convenience store. You look so beautiful, even in sadness. Even when you clutched at one another’s skin, feeling nothing but desperation on the night that Jeongin told you the news that he was in fact leaving.

“Please don’t be sad,” you beg a little. The last thing you want to see is your lover like this. You can see how his heart is hurting. You want to take away that pain.

You realise that you’re crying too.

“I don’t want to let you go,”

“Then don’t. Hold me.” His skin on yours feels just right. The way his hands hold onto you, regardless of where they find themselves positioned. In every way, he is made for you.

It stays silent for a few moments. Your eyes are closed, and you’re taking in the noise – of the city below the high field, of the swishing of the trees and their long leaves in the wind; the cool breeze that ensues as the sun begins to make its disappearance. There isn’t so much time left.

“Jeongin,” his name falls so easily from your lips. It intoxicates the air around it. The boy looks at you with so much sorrow; looks at the dandelion seeds that blow with the gentle breeze, and realises it is much too late to wish for things to change. “Jeongin, make love to me,”

“Here?,”

“Here,” you kiss his tears, “Here on this land and let’s claim it as ours.”

He wastes no single moment, when your body falls into the grass and you feel like the soil yourself. You keep Jeongin rooted. Jeongin helps you grow.

Your sundress is made of a fabric which is soft to the touch. It’s light and easy to fiddle with, so Jeongin can keep dancing with your lips as he pulls it up. He’s not completely hard yet, so he takes his time to grind against you as you lay breathless beneath him. You’re aroused by your own desperation.

“Now,”

“Now.” Jeongin frees himself, carefully pushing aside your underwear before he fits inside you perfectly.

It feels at once as though everything and nothing matters at all. Not that the sun will set, nor rise again, not that the picnic is being discarded, not that Jeongin looks so pretty when he cries, and not that he thinks the same about you. But it also feels as though every second that passes is moving too quickly. It feels as though this is too much – that all of these things are in fact happening, and Jeongin and yourself will part, and your heart will not deal with it.

You clutch onto his biceps as his hips move slowly and rhythmically, something he’s become practiced in when it comes to you. And his eyes never once leave you. He’s grinning at you, but his tears do not cease. He’s moaning above you, but his cries sound pained.

You pull him down further, so that the angle in which he enters you feels deeper, and so his face is clearer to you. Must you not forget every mark on his face, every follicle in which a hair sprouts. His breath hits your neck as he speeds up, and his cries turn to grunts, and your wails turn to desperate utterances for more, to cum, to feel him and to be here.

His lips are soft – but then become harsh. He sucks against the flesh until you feel pain, and you know what he’s doing. You are his, after all. And though the marks he wishes to leave behind will not last forever, he knows that his intent will. He has ruined you for anyone who could ever come after him. This son of a businessman, this son of a surgeon, he lives such a blessed live that he has only cursed you with.

“I’m yours,” you cry out, when the pain becomes insufferable, and it blurs into pleasure.

He lifts his head so that his nose brushes yours, “Even after I’m gone, tell me I’ll be yours,”

“Forever.” you kiss, softly, and it burns. You can’t tire of his lips.

Love is a silly thing. It makes us feel such emotions, makes us become weak without realising, makes our hearts beat faster until they are ripped out before us. You will not stop loving Jeongin once he’s gone, and neither will you forget him. You will wait, and live this ordinary life, and hope that he doesn’t meet someone new once he settles in elsewhere, somewhere in a place you can only imagine, and you hope that he’ll return and tell you that there wasn’t and will never be anyone other than you.

He pulls your sundress up further, and pulls himself upward so that he can gain a better view of himself entering you. Not much longer, and he will topple over the edge. The view of this, and of your cheeks stained with tears, and of your pupils enlarged as you look at him with absolute adoration – this will be enough.

“I’m going to cum,” you whisper.

He says, “Me too.”

And he interlocks his fingers with yours, feeling the blades of grass that slip between and that comfort you. His hips stagger a few more times, and your mouths are open, breathless and panting into one another’s. Jeongin closes his eyes and sees stars. You close your eyes and see the moon.

This is how it’s meant to be.

Not with Jeongin’s family finding success elsewhere, not with the fear of being forgotten.

You’re supposed to be here, let Jeongin roam your skin and let your fingers taint his body so that anyone who wishes to touch him only feels you.

This is how it’s meant to be.

“I’m frightened,” you admit. You grasp both sides of his face, just where his jawline is, “We’re about to lose each other, and I’m frightened,”

“I know,” he kisses your shoulder blade as he slowly pulls out because he doesn’t want to cry again, leaking his essence from you, “But stay here, alright? Stay here, for me.”

You hold him, because that’s all you can do. In this field where there are trees and flowers and animals and the disregarded picnic blanket, where an onlooker might find it all insignificant but to you it is the entire world, you sob. Because that’s all you can do. And that’s all that he can do, because he needs to go soon.

“Stay here,” he whispers, his voice wobbling, “Stay here, and let me find you.”

It’s quiet, aside from your cries.

“Stay here. And if years pass, I will find you. Let’s find each other, and we can learn how to love again.”

© ikigaitsuki 2022

[ikigaitsuki]

heeseung tho.

we need not say anymore. yes.

#gai: 💭 #gai’s anon

[ikigaitsuki]

it’s okay to have clumsy and awkward sex and it’s actually really common

the ability to laugh while you’re lying tangled and naked together bc you realize just how silly something is is really really intimate and trusting, and it’s the best feeling to be like that with someone and to be relaxed

it happens with long-term partners, it happens on hookups, and it’s rarely as bad as it’s always made out to be, except we usually think it’s bad we're told that’s not how sex is supposed to go. but that’s not true. 

it can still be passionate and intimate while being messy and clumsy, absolutely. you don’t need to “perform well.” sex isn’t a show: it’s about feeling good. sometimes it takes experimenting to figure out what feels good, and fumbles and awkward moments and laughter is all just part of it. sometimes that’s a huge part of the fun.

[ikigaitsuki]

(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

[ikigaitsuki]

Hello lovely,

Idk if I ever sent you a message but if I did I'm sorry but here it is again and if I didn't well, here it is.

Your fic for Spirit and Mixer is my ABSOLUTE favourite fic ever. It's so beautifully well written and always leaves me wanting more. It's a comfort fic, it's a spicy fics it's just everything!

I'm not good with expressing my words very well but I'm trying to best.

The way this fic makes me feel....idk man...but I keep coming back for more. I've lost count how many times I've read it. It's so seductive and alluring I just- can I live this life ahahah

Anyway thanks for the best fic I've ever read. Stay safe and healthy 💖

hello! it’s been a while since i’ve checked this account so this is a late reply - sorry!

thank you for taking the time to tell me this, it’s so annoying when i just say i really appreciate it, but i do! i wish there was a better way for me to express it!

i haven’t written for a very long time now so it’s always wonderful to hear from people that they still read my work or that things stick with them.

thank you so much for taking the time to reach out, i hope you’re well too🩷🫶🏼

#gai’s anon #gai: 💭 #the most amazing <3 #the most wonderful <3

[ikigaitsuki]

ᥫ᭡ IT STARTS AND ENDS WITH YOU | k.th

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Summary — In everything that he does, it is you. It was you, and it will always be you.

Pairing — taehyun x gn!reader

Genre — just angst

TW — implied loss, but not specified in what ways

WC — 857

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a/n: something a little (very) different to my usual.

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Cold.

That’s how the bed feels once Taehyun arises and the realisation sets in that this is another morning, another day in which he is going to spend without you. His heart aches, and he wishes he could sleep a little longer — long enough to see this through, to lessen the burning that never ceases in his sternum. Taehyun doesn’t understand how he still feels the pain.

Keep reading

[ikigaitsuki]

i randomly thought of this piece and read it for the first time in forever. something about solemn writing gets me!

ᥫ᭡ LIE TO ME | c.s

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Summary — Just for now, if only for an evening, I want you to lie to me and pretend that everything is alright. I want to pretend we will wake beside one another, warm and in one another's hold, and act like this is all but a bad dream.

Genre — Angst, Suggestive

Pairing — San x female reader

CW — Breakup AU, implied sexual content.

WC — 2,619

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Requested: By this lovely anon. I realised that this wasn't so much soft angst as requested, but I say go all in. I still hope you like it.

a/n: i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing! it's a nice change to alter from explicit works - i'll do it more often.

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From the basis of appearance alone, you would look like two people heavily in love, doting on one another and sharing sweet nothings - promises of the future, promises from the past, a chivalrous exclamation of your trust and growth.

But on this table tonight it was not that. It was not two doting lovers letting the time go by without realising. The time was going by and both parties realised, eyes intently staring on the metaphorical clock with the hands striking above the table. Eventually the sand inside the timer hits the bottom with nothing left to give and nothing more to fill and eventually the match burns to the end and loses its heat.

To love is a hell of a feeling. To both love and lose is another entirely.

With the same lips you kiss one another with, you lie with. You lie about still loving each other despite knowing you had more than run your course. You thrived on familiarity in a world full of constant change, worried when the only things that were permanent in your life threatened to depart, but now, now all you wanted to do was rejoice in the feeling of freedom that was slowly filling you from the inside. There is only so long we can hold ourselves back before we realise we are hurting ourselves in doing so.

With the same lips you kiss one another with, you lie with. You lie about still loving each other despite knowing you had more than run your course. You thrived on familiarity in a world full of constant change, worried when the only things that were permanent in your life threatened to depart, but now, now all you wanted to do was rejoice in the feeling of freedom that was slowly filling you from the inside. There is only so long we can hold ourselves back before we realise we are hurting ourselves in doing so.

With the same lips you kiss one another with, you lie with. You lie about still loving each other despite knowing you had more than run your course. You thrived on familiarity in a world full of constant change, worried when the only things that were permanent in your life threatened to depart, but now, now all you wanted to do was rejoice in the feeling of freedom that was slowly filling you from the inside. There is only so long we can hold ourselves back before we realise we are hurting ourselves in doing so.

There's a sense of desperation as San speaks, "Is there really nothing we can do? Are we really giving up this easily on lo-,"

"This," you gesture with your finger swinging between yourself and San, "This is not love. You know it and you're lying to yourself if you think it is," your words come out more seething than you expect, and even San is visibly taken aback in his seat.

You're right though, and San knows it too.

This is not love.

Love is not having mindless sex with one another just because your bodies are telling you that you desire it, love is not eating your meals at separate times in the day or in different rooms because if you so much as look at one another with indifference it will result in a rage-filled argument. Love is not doubt and love is not worry.

And love is certainly not a feeling shared between the two of you.

There was once a time it was, of course, when San's love took the forms of small written notes with sweet messages, and when his love was surprise flowers delivered to your desk at work. When he showed he cared, and you cared too because you did those little things in return for him. San showed his feelings through gestures, some grander and larger than others but the thing that stayed the same was how your heart swooned every time.

Eventually though, the gifts stopped - the small gestures and the letters with cute stickers and glitter and his cursive handwriting that barely even matched his personality. It eventually had gotten so long that you forgot the way he held his pen in his hand, you forgot the colours of glitter he used to mix, and you forgot just how much you meant to him. But you're guilty too, right?

Because you stopped too, you stopped caring where he was and if he wouldn't be back from work in time for dinner. It hurt you more than anything that you began to feel that way, but nobody can stop the awareness creeping in at the absence of love once it has already departed. Now, all it was and all it had been was a waiting game to see who would finally speak first about the issues that had long been brimming. No dates or attempts to salvage this relationship seemed worthwhile, and you both knew this, absentmindedly eating your food - or would it be more suitable to say picking at it? Because your appetites were being lost at an even faster rate than your love was.

"What do you want from me now?," San asks you, and you aren't really sure what he means because the question is such as open ended one.

"I'm not really sure how to answer that," you're honest, and he appreciates that because it's been a long while since you've spoken the truth to one another.

It’s a strange and mutual feeling that settles between you both, because despite the agreement of breaking up, here tonight, there’s still a sense of doubt and lingering lost thoughts that somewhat hold you back. It’s reliving past years of your life - happier, more joyous times, combined with heart wrenching, painful times. It’s knowing that what once was is no more. We all want to fall in love - to be in love. Some of us are just luckier at obtaining it.

You took the wine glass in your hand, staring down at the liquid inside hoping that somehow it would swallow you up instead.

"Then at least tell me where we went wrong," the words from San's lips almost have a sense of despair attached to them - almost. And it's the use of the word 'we' rather than 'I' that makes your heart sink that little bit further in your chest. An acknowledgement that neither of you failed the other individually, but that it occurred simultaneously, in such a way that not only one member in this relationship can be blamed.

"I think in many ways we failed one another," you begin, hesitant. It's a foreign conversation, "I think as time went on we both realised that there was no love here anymore,"

San sits in silence, thinking of what to say, idly playing around at the meal he had long lost his appetite for.

"I'll always love you. Just not enough for it to be enough," many months of honesty is flying around the table tonight, and just maybe if these utterances were heard of sooner, things would be okay.

Your heart shatters at San's words. Because it was enough, then, and always, and it wasn't that he didn't make you feel like the only person in the whole world, but that you both wanted, needed, craved different things and your lives couldn't continue on together.

The conversation dissipates into silence. No more could be said for it would be wasted breath. Instead, your eyes meet one another in silence, and you both become very much aware that the chance to salvage anything at all was gone entirely.

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The cab drive back to your apartment is silent - quiet. Once a time there was that you wouldn't be able to keep your hands from one another, laughing into each others mouths as you drunkenly tried to sneak kisses in the dark. There is no more laughter, it feels solemn, yet calm.

The walk up to the apartment showcases indifference - distance from one another instead of the usual hand of San's snaking around your waist and pulling you in. For a second you find yourself wishing you could be close enough to smell his cologne. Now, it was nothing but a mere distant smell. Was it that you were forgetting already?

Pushing through the door that once was yours, and is now just someone's, not even the welcoming lights of the lounge area can settle you. The sofa has pillows and a duvet ready for whoever decides its theirs, and your photos of one another are face-down. It feels passive aggressive, like it's intentionally meant to sting like a bad wound.

A room, an apartment, that once was filled with love and hope and promises didn't seem as bright as it did yesterday. Or even three hours ago. The scent of your favourite candle disregarded on the coffee table was no longer welcoming, and was in fact intoxicating in all the worst ways.

It smells like the day San came home from work during a thunderstorm, rain drenching his clothes as he kicked off his sodden shoes by the door and gave you an apologetic smile as you stared in shock from the sofa at his drenched, shivering figure in the doorway.

It smelt like movie nights with popcorn and San resting softly in your lap with your fingers carding through his hair slowly. Like those nights where he tried so hard not to drift off into sleep under your touch but he did so every time, waking up as the credits rolled out and you placed an empty bowl of popcorn beside you.

It smells like days gone by - but not regretted. It smells like days that could have continued.

"Hey," San wraps his arms around you from behind as you stared out into the lounge before you. His grasp is weak, either that he's hesitant or he's given up just like you have, "You think too much."

He knows what's on your mind, and he hates the idea of these thoughts running around your head. San doesn't want his last evening by your side to be filled with solemn unspoken thoughts. You're both no longer suited to one another, you know this - and the past serves as shackles.

"I'm sorry," you close your eyes in his clutch, smelling that cologne you so badly wanted to earlier, "I know we will never work again, but can you kiss me one last time?," Your voice shakes at your own request, but the remorse that would've threatened you the next morning had you not asked for this would have swallowed you whole.

San turns you slowly, lips meeting yours like its the first time and not the thousandth, timid and slow and he doesn't know at what pace to take it, but if you are to really spend one last night together then so be it. Take your time and act as though there will be another day to spend together in this room.

Kissing San like this gives you that butterflies feeling in your stomach you all but missed, warming you up from the inside and causing you to melt into his delicate touch. Kissing San like this make you glad you asked for just one more time. Just one last time to savour his taste before it gets lost forever.

Your hands, and San's too, trace wherever they can, feeling the radiating heat of one another's bodies as your lips tenderly dance with one another. There is fever, desire, and it doesn't go ignored as you lightly moan into each other's mouths. The heat in the room is suffocating, and you pull away to meet his gaze.

He harbours a look of longing, as though he's asking 'Shall we really be doing this? Is this really okay?', and of course it's not, really, but you're doing this for the girl that first met that boy from the subway three and a half years ago. If not for you both right now, it's for them, and what they had, and what they've lost.

And in this room tonight you realised you were two people trying to be in love although you were everything but. Timid desperation that for one last time you could look one another in the eyes and feel so much as a glint of admiration, that perhaps, in another dimension it wouldn’t end like this and you’ll wake up beside one another, arms wrapped tightly.

But that won’t be the case, you realise. Someone will be waking up alone, caught up in the lingering scent of sex and a lost lover, and nobody will envy that awful gut feeling that will soon be instilled. For now, you pretend everything is okay - you can deal with emotions at a later time.

"My favourite thing is when your cheeks get all flushed after we kiss," San whispers, like it's more for himself than you, but you hear anyway.

"Mine is when you're all sleepy and your voice is rumbly in the morning,"

San just smiles, forehead pressing against yours, and you share a moment of solidarity in knowing that these are the small things that you'll miss. It's the things such as these that will play on your minds long after one another's departures.

And it’s the harsh feeling - realisation, even, of knowing that you were everything but one another’s. That you couldn’t give anymore than you had and that the damage was beyond repair.

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You find yourself underneath San, in the sheets of the bed that was yours. His hair is dishevelled, muscles in his abdomen contracting and releasing with every movement.

For a moment you see his eyes well with tears and it makes you panic - what if he really didn’t want this to be the end, perhaps it was a façade to protect himself because once your mind was made up he could do nothing but accept this fate?

Or maybe it was that you were crying too, hot tears streaming down your face because you want so badly to just love him like you once had. It sets in your stomach that you really do not want to be free - this feels like a nightmare. His hand wipes at your cheeks, and you long for your heart to swoon.

Perhaps San decided having sex with you like this would make you both realise just how much you needed one another. To have someone else’s skin on yours after he had touched it would be entirely unfamiliar, and the thought crosses his mind that he wants to etch as much of himself into you than he already has over the past few years so that you are left untouchable by anybody but him.

For a long time, you will miss the touches of one another, the steam climbing the shower walls as you spent far too long in there with him, lips grazing your intimate areas, or the disarrangement of the pillows and duvets after a long, intimate night. You will miss, as San will too, the rolling of your names from one another's mouths as you declare your love for one another.

And for a long time, you will miss the sweet moments, where he tries to cook and subsequently doesn't do the greatest job - but it's still delicious, because he did it for you. And you will miss the way he used to write poems for you, glitter sprayed out all over the paper in a beautiful mess.

But all good things must come to an end, right?

The soft grinding of San's hips into you has you softly calling out to him, whispering.

"I love you," you don't even care that you said it, or care enough to acknowledge it.

"I love you too," his lips attach to your neck.

You're both liars, but alas, for one night if you can just create the illusion of two souls in love, it can provide enough comfort to see you through to the morning.

© ikigaitsuki. no unauthorised copying or reposting is allowed.

[ikigaitsuki]

seeing all the interactions i still get on my posts even though i’m not really around anymore is the sweetest thing ever. anytime i come back and have a look at what’s going on it fills me with the nicest feeling, so thank you😊😊

#gai: 💭

[ikigaitsuki]

besotted | l.hs

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Summary — A seemingly innocent invite over. The clutching onto one another’s skin as though either person would leave if given the chance. The subsequent feeling of love - of us, and the sharing of one another.

Pairing — Heeseung x gn!reader

Genre — smut, fluff

CW — protected sex, love making, mutual pining, this is very soft i’m in my feels ok, oral (m. receiving).

Word count — 2,493

Part of the 12 days of xxxmas series (this one is v timid)

a/n: dear god, when is it my turn?

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Come over.

There’s something so insanely promiscuous about those two words when they flash up on a phone screen. The implications - what’s the meaning?

You discard your phone lazily on the pillows of your bed, heart racing as you await a reply. It’s not that rejection is likely, more so that regardless of how eager both of you may be - it’s a possibility still.

Inviting Lee Heeseung to your house, when he’s never been before, never even seen past the colour of your front door or much of your room beyond the headboard when you facetime on late evenings, is nothing short of nerve wracking.

And as the simple response of, “Give me 15 and I’ll be there,” illuminates your phone screen, the panic doesn’t subside.

In fact, it only worsens as he stares at you with that same soft glint in his eyes, waiting to be invited in as he stands on the door mat.

How does one go about it in this way? Do you still need formalities? A cup of tea and biscuits maybe? Sit on the couch for a little while and discuss things like middle aged people meeting after a long time apart?

You settle against those options, and for good reason.

“Come in,” you smile, distracting yourself from the barrage of thoughts that certainty would fuck this up if the man before you could hear them, “It’s the room on the right, all the way down the corridor. You need a drink or anything?,”

God, cut the formalities. You know this guy, very well acquainted what with your wonderful rendezvous and evenings in the local cafe, and don’t forget the dressed up dates you’d had, the exchanging of gifts together and the apparent fondness you both harbour for one another but are too scared to share.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Heeseung just smiles at you as he leaves his shoes by the front door, and saunters off to the bedroom.

Too abrupt? No time to think about that now.

To be honest, you’d wanted to hold out for as long as possible, wanted to see how long you could take staring into those big, brown eyes of his before the string of tension snapped. And to be honest, you’d been doing pretty well with it.

But the eagerness to know him more than through words - with physical touch too, was basically killing you.

And finding Heeseung already searching through the endless shithole of programmes on Netflix whilst lying comfortably on your bed as you entered your bedroom was somewhat endearing.

“Comfortable already, I see,” you quip.

“You’d think I’m weird if I wasn’t.”

True. All you think about is the further subsequent implications of Netflix being Heeseung’s choice of streaming service. You have plenty more available.

Why that one?
Nobody ever watches Netflix.

Nobody ever watc-

Shit.

You try to relax as you melt into Heeseung’s touch, his body warm even though there’s layers of clothing between his skin.

But it’s proving hard, literally and figuratively, because you can’t focus on the movie on your TV at all. Heeseung just looks too fucking good, and of course you asked him over here for good reason, but now you’re in a situation where you can change the mood, you’re sort of feeling a little lost.

It has you feeling like you’re new to this whole thing, even when you’re not.

But this is a first with Heeseung.

And you’re nervous with the anticipation of what he is like.

And no, not as a person. You know that much already. You mean in bed - naked, hot body on your own, lips dancing on your neck and fingers playing with your-

“You’re supposed to stare at the TV, not me,” Heeseung’s gaze melts into you, and you feel on the spot that you could curl up and die, quite simply.

“Heeseung,” you didn’t mean to whine, you swear, but either way you don’t regret it when Heeseung’s lips encase your own in a way that’s different to the many times you’ve done it before.

There’s a certain hunger, a certain need and desire that you’re more than happy in this moment to indulge in.

You never want your lips to part as he pulls the duvet to allow you both under it. You don’t want to lose the momentum of the situation, and so you grip at the plain white shirt he chose to wear today.

Perhaps it be the whirlpool of emotions or just that Lee Heeseung is that attractive - that even a plain garment can look expensive on him, but you feel like you’re only just realising how good looking he is.

You wet your lips as you hungrily stare at Heeseung’s bare torso once his shirt is removed and discarded wherever the fuck your throw managed to land it, and you bask even more so in the way his breathing is ragged already, eyes never once leaving your lips.

Heeseung feels at ease seeing you like this, because unbeknownst to you, the pounding in his heart isn’t from arousal alone.

He’s in conflict - wanting to be slow and sensual with your body because this is the first time you’re seeing one another like this, but also wanting to devour you, ravish you and leave you both fulfilled and yet gasping for more.

He decides not to make his mind up yet.

Instead, he stares at how you chose to wear nothing under your hoodie. He can’t believe you look this good in such simple clothes.

“You’re amazing,” he breathes against your sternum as you move to now straddle his hips.

The light praise rolls off his tongue so easily, it reminds you of the caramel sauce he always makes sure there’s an abundance of when you order an iced coffee - sweet and moreish.

You want to hear more, feel more, be more in the moment than you already are.

Grinding on Heeseung’s erection through his trousers, your abdomen fills with excitement at the thought of what hopefully, moments later, will be filling you.

“You feel really big,” you admit, and you feel shy, so you’re glad that Heeseung also avoids eye contact and instead works at your nipples.

His lips are soft, timid, and you love it. There’s a fondness that floats around the situation and you both think it’s one sided, so you don’t speak on it.

Pulling his lips away from your chest, you face him closer now. He already looks dishevelled and heated; it fills you with excitement, and an essence of proudness because you’re the reason Heeseung looks like this right now.

And with delivering a quick peck to his lips, you dive down under the covers to meet your face with his crotch, pulling down his trousers and boxers in as natural as a motion as you can - which ultimately fails, and results in Heeseung shuffling his hips to help you.

Taking his cock into your hands finally, you’re trying to make a mental note of how big he is whilst simultaneously beginning to press your lips to the tip.

The taste of precum hits your tongue almost instantly, and with the way Heeseung hisses, you continue to deliver attention to the head - soft kissing and licks that send him into overdrive instantly. His hands rest atop your head, no intention of ever trying to take the control from you, but they’re there more as a symbol of support, in some way.

Licking up his shaft before you fully take Heeseung into your mouth, you feel the breeze of the duvet being lifted so that he can finally see you. In another circumstance, you’d feel shy, but hearing the way his breath labours and he moans softly, you know that you’re doing enough.

When accompanying the ministrations of your mouth with a lazy up and down, twist of your wrist makes Heeseung hiss between his teeth, you know to keep doing that. When working with a new partner, spending the time to find the simple things that make their body tense is most important.

And so when Heeseung tells you that, “It’s so sexy when you do it like that,” with your mouth sloppily lapping at him and your throat humming against him, you might just die.

The eye contact is intense as you see the way he earnestly watches you, bottom lip caught between his teeth to avoid releasing any expletives.

And as much as you’d like to stay here like this, and pleasure Heeseung like this to fulfilment, you know that there’s more on both of your minds.

For you, though, your mind simply enters a haze as the man kisses you without a regard for the fact your lips have been wrapped around his crotch only moments ago. It sets alight a fire in you that before had never been lit before.

“Hee,” you whisper against his lips.

“Condom?,” he asks, knowing what you want.

“Top drawer.”

And he rummages and quickly finds one, opening the packet and sliding the latex over himself as you busy yourself with the removal of your bottoms.

You expect to ride him, and so hover over him until he flips you over, back resting softly in the abundance of pillows by your headrest. What a peculiar feeling arising in Heeseung’s stomach as he takes in the view which he’s only seen through the screen of his phone.

And the feeling doesn’t cease as he eases himself slowly into you, slight stretch on your part due to the lack of preparation, but there’s a sense of desperation in the air, even if it’s not spoken.

“So tight,” Heeseung muses into the skin of your neck, “My God, y/n, you’re so tight,”

You’d respond if you could, but instead you drink in the feeling of slowly being impaled, and it’s blissful. The slow drive of Heeseung’s hips in and out of you, shallow and shy until he feels the way you relax around him and your grip on his biceps loosens.

Only then does he build up a rhythm. One that has you wrapping your legs around him, hands clutching either side of his face as you engage in sloppy kisses, lips sometimes gliding completely past one another.

“Do you feel good?,” Heeseung manages to ask as he hits a spot deeper inside you. There’s a neediness in his voice that indicates he’s eager to please.

“So good, Hee,” you press your foreheads together, “You feel so good inside me,”

It’s really taking everything for Heeseung to last, even with the condom around him there’s a closeness he can’t quite place, an intimacy that feels further than two bodies fuelled by arousal. He’s scared to confess in this moment how he really feels, just on the off chance that you think his words lack sincerity.

So he doesn’t say anything.

But later, he swears that he will.

And you throw your head back into the pillow with glee, neck on full display as Heeseung attaches his lips delicately. You wish that you could tell him more than that it feels good, that you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing.

You wish that you could find words that would hold more substance, but you’re not really sure that he would believe you when you’re clouded by the feeling building in your stomach.

Still, you clutch onto one another as Heeseung switches the position, this time with your legs over his shoulders, and your heart melts at the way he kisses at the skin of your ankles, grip so light it’s like his touch isn’t even there.

He would turn you around, but he doesn’t want to miss the way your face contorts in that of pleasure when he reaches so impossibly deep inside you. And he doesn’t want you to miss the way his own brows furrow, the way his voice is rough with the way he snaps into you now.

The new angle has you crying out, so loud that the TV in the background doesn’t even suffice as a distraction anymore. The noises are no longer inhibited to these four walls.

“Shhh,” Heeseung slows his hips but never ceases his rhythm, “I don’t want anyone else to hear you, baby,”

Baby.

Baby.

Holy shit does that tighten the knot in your stomach.

“Heeseung!,” you cry out, arms trying to reach for him but failing. You’re trying to tell him that you’re close, and the man doesn’t help the situation as he leans forward, your own legs pressing against yourself in a way that allows Heeseung even deeper into you, so much so that he feels a part of you now.

Locking your fingers in his against the coolness of your pillow, you release breathy moans and cries of his name as you come undone. You try to keep the words back, but your mind is so foggy that you forget what you’re really saying.

“Oh my god, Heeseung, I love you!,”

His breath is rough in your ear as he moans out, cum filling the condom as he confesses back the same words to you.

“I love you, wow-, I love you,” his body is warm against yours, and as you come down you can finally feel the cramping of your legs.

Sitting back on his knees, Heeseung slows his breathing as he removes the condom. Watching the way he moves the hair from his eyes makes you swoon.

God, are you fond of this Lee Heeseung.

But isn’t he so fond of you?

You sit up to encase your arms around his figure, and fall back into the sheets. It’s hot and humid and there’s the smell of sex that’s dancing around the room, but you don’t mind. You feel a closeness now that you’ve longed for for a long time.

You’re glad that it’s Heeseung with you now, in this moment as you feel as though every memory with him so far is passing you by, clear pictures in your mind.

It’s a funny thing, how our firsts with everyone are so treasured. Sure, it’s not your first time having sex, neither is it his, but it’s your first with one another. It’s calming, and reassuring, in a way, that the feelings you have aren’t one sided.

But how could they have been?

“Shall we take a shower?,” you mumble the question against the sheen of sweat on Heeseung’s shoulder.

He hums over the question for a little while, before he grins, “Can’t we just stay like this for now? Just a little bit longer, please,”

And he clutches you tighter, as though you would get up and leave - but you never would.

Instead, you stay there as requested, a content feeling rising through every beat of your heart.

And with every further consequential strum, you feel your eyes close, falling into a slumber in the warmth of your lover.

© ikigaitsuki. no unauthorised copying or reposting is allowed.

[ikigaitsuki]

ᥫ᭡ WE’RE ABOUT TO LOSE EACH OTHER AND I’M FRIGHTENED | y.ji

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Summary — On this field, filled with trees and dandelions and daisies, is a pair of lovers who’s hearts must part but their souls never will. Who will lose in love but not in life. Who are afraid to part but know — they will find one another again.

Pairing — jeongin x gn!reader (they’re wearing a dress but that’s as specific as it gets)

Genre — smut, angst

CW — unprotected sex, kinda public sex, cream pie, marking (hickeys), it’s actually pretty tame

WC — 1864

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Hands, fleeting. Ankles brushing over the newly grown dandelions, sending the pollen flying everywhere. It dances in a strange way – it looks rhythmic, intentional, but in reality, it is as lost as the individuals running between it. It will land wherever it chooses, and grow in that space, awaiting more star-crossed lovers to disrupt its roots.

In his hands, he holds another. The skin warm to the touch, with each ridge and line indented into his memory. He never wants to forget this touch for as long as he lives. And in his other hand, he carries a picnic basket. It’s filled with sandwiches with only a small selection of fillings. There’s biscuits and fruit because he couldn’t quite think of what to pack. He counts himself to be no cook.

The weight of the basket feels so heavy in his arms despite bearing no weight.

His heart feels heavy in his chest, and he swears that this is the first time he’s ever been able to feel such a thing. He doesn’t know whether he wants to throw up or cry. Maybe both.

“Jeongin,”

His family resides on the richest part of the city. With large houses and seemingly everything within their attainment, it feels like an entirely knew world to someone who has never experienced such a thing. Jeongin knows no different, because he was always raised like this. Jeongin knew no different. But he is still kind.

His farther works in technology. It’s a recently new development, so he makes even more money than the average person can imagine. He’s humble, despite it all – a kind man who seeks pleasure from interactions with any sort of person. He likes to help people. He likes to be the reason for change. Most of all, he is proud of the man that his son is growing to be.

His mother is slender and kind – he has her eyes. She’s a surgeon, so she works long hours and on occasion, looks very tired. Although, that is a rarity. She also is well put together. She perhaps is a little shyer than Jeongin’s father is. She may not be the first person you can hear in a room, but she will be the first person you lay eyes on. She is simply gorgeous, and Jeongin is a beautiful reflection of that.

“Jeongin,”

His father recently received a new job opportunity. One that required the family to move to a new country. It may well be the turning point of his career, although that it itself is highly commendable. He sat for a while in silence whilst he processed the news. Here, this is where he lives. But he’s never considered this place home. This merely is a steppingstone. Now that his father has fulfilled his time here, he believes it is time to move on to the next place, so he accepted the job offer.

Yang Jeongin’s house looks bare. It is bare, because he’s moving across the country in under a day and his entire life has been packed into boxes and suitcases.

“Jeongin,” he is removed from his daze, “You’re crying,”

He touches his cheeks, which perspire with heat. His fingers return to his line of sight, and they confirm your statement, “Ah. So I am.” His voice comes out near a choke. He’s embarrassed.

You see, Jeongin feels like a dandelion seed. He was finally settled his roots, he has finally begun to grow in this place he had learned to call home. He had finally found everything that he wanted. But then soil was disrupted and he feels lost. He is floating around.

He wants the Earth to swallow him up. His tears won’t stop. He looks into your eyes and sees stars. He sees the entire universe. He sees the sunrise and the sunset and he sees the interchange of the seasons. He feels you in his orbit; he feels you running through his veins.

And then he realises that he has to leave you, and he sobs.

You’re in love.

It’s naïve and silly and people would probably question why the son of such a successful couple would fall in love with someone so ordinary­, someone, that, if you passed on the street, would hold no significance at all. Replaceable, that’s what they’d think.

But Jeongin doesn’t think so.

Even as your lip wobbles as you try to pour him a drink of pink lemonade that you bought from the nearest convenience store. You look so beautiful, even in sadness. Even when you clutched at one another’s skin, feeling nothing but desperation on the night that Jeongin told you the news that he was in fact leaving.

“Please don’t be sad,” you beg a little. The last thing you want to see is your lover like this. You can see how his heart is hurting. You want to take away that pain.

You realise that you’re crying too.

“I don’t want to let you go,”

“Then don’t. Hold me.” His skin on yours feels just right. The way his hands hold onto you, regardless of where they find themselves positioned. In every way, he is made for you.

It stays silent for a few moments. Your eyes are closed, and you’re taking in the noise – of the city below the high field, of the swishing of the trees and their long leaves in the wind; the cool breeze that ensues as the sun begins to make its disappearance. There isn’t so much time left.

“Jeongin,” his name falls so easily from your lips. It intoxicates the air around it. The boy looks at you with so much sorrow; looks at the dandelion seeds that blow with the gentle breeze, and realises it is much too late to wish for things to change. “Jeongin, make love to me,”

“Here?,”

“Here,” you kiss his tears, “Here on this land and let’s claim it as ours.”

He wastes no single moment, when your body falls into the grass and you feel like the soil yourself. You keep Jeongin rooted. Jeongin helps you grow.

Your sundress is made of a fabric which is soft to the touch. It’s light and easy to fiddle with, so Jeongin can keep dancing with your lips as he pulls it up. He’s not completely hard yet, so he takes his time to grind against you as you lay breathless beneath him. You’re aroused by your own desperation.

“Now,”

“Now.” Jeongin frees himself, carefully pushing aside your underwear before he fits inside you perfectly.

It feels at once as though everything and nothing matters at all. Not that the sun will set, nor rise again, not that the picnic is being discarded, not that Jeongin looks so pretty when he cries, and not that he thinks the same about you. But it also feels as though every second that passes is moving too quickly. It feels as though this is too much – that all of these things are in fact happening, and Jeongin and yourself will part, and your heart will not deal with it.

You clutch onto his biceps as his hips move slowly and rhythmically, something he’s become practiced in when it comes to you. And his eyes never once leave you. He’s grinning at you, but his tears do not cease. He’s moaning above you, but his cries sound pained.

You pull him down further, so that the angle in which he enters you feels deeper, and so his face is clearer to you. Must you not forget every mark on his face, every follicle in which a hair sprouts. His breath hits your neck as he speeds up, and his cries turn to grunts, and your wails turn to desperate utterances for more, to cum, to feel him and to be here.

His lips are soft – but then become harsh. He sucks against the flesh until you feel pain, and you know what he’s doing. You are his, after all. And though the marks he wishes to leave behind will not last forever, he knows that his intent will. He has ruined you for anyone who could ever come after him. This son of a businessman, this son of a surgeon, he lives such a blessed live that he has only cursed you with.

“I’m yours,” you cry out, when the pain becomes insufferable, and it blurs into pleasure.

He lifts his head so that his nose brushes yours, “Even after I’m gone, tell me I’ll be yours,”

“Forever.” you kiss, softly, and it burns. You can’t tire of his lips.

Love is a silly thing. It makes us feel such emotions, makes us become weak without realising, makes our hearts beat faster until they are ripped out before us. You will not stop loving Jeongin once he’s gone, and neither will you forget him. You will wait, and live this ordinary life, and hope that he doesn’t meet someone new once he settles in elsewhere, somewhere in a place you can only imagine, and you hope that he’ll return and tell you that there wasn’t and will never be anyone other than you.

He pulls your sundress up further, and pulls himself upward so that he can gain a better view of himself entering you. Not much longer, and he will topple over the edge. The view of this, and of your cheeks stained with tears, and of your pupils enlarged as you look at him with absolute adoration – this will be enough.

“I’m going to cum,” you whisper.

He says, “Me too.”

And he interlocks his fingers with yours, feeling the blades of grass that slip between and that comfort you. His hips stagger a few more times, and your mouths are open, breathless and panting into one another’s. Jeongin closes his eyes and sees stars. You close your eyes and see the moon.

This is how it’s meant to be.

Not with Jeongin’s family finding success elsewhere, not with the fear of being forgotten.

You’re supposed to be here, let Jeongin roam your skin and let your fingers taint his body so that anyone who wishes to touch him only feels you.

This is how it’s meant to be.

“I’m frightened,” you admit. You grasp both sides of his face, just where his jawline is, “We’re about to lose each other, and I’m frightened,”

“I know,” he kisses your shoulder blade as he slowly pulls out because he doesn’t want to cry again, leaking his essence from you, “But stay here, alright? Stay here, for me.”

You hold him, because that’s all you can do. In this field where there are trees and flowers and animals and the disregarded picnic blanket, where an onlooker might find it all insignificant but to you it is the entire world, you sob. Because that’s all you can do. And that’s all that he can do, because he needs to go soon.

“Stay here,” he whispers, his voice wobbling, “Stay here, and let me find you.”

It’s quiet, aside from your cries.

“Stay here. And if years pass, I will find you. Let’s find each other, and we can learn how to love again.”

© ikigaitsuki 2022

[ikigaitsuki]

hi hope you have a good day <3

hi! i jump on here every few weeks just to have a look at how things are on here these days, hence the late reply

hope you’ve been taking care of yourself and doing well! it’s been a while🫂

[ikigaitsuki]

the day is so long when ur off work and you still wake up before 7am anyway. what a beautiful world there is many hours in a day

[ikigaitsuki]

♡ ♡ ♡̷ ♡ ྀ you’ve got a mail! 📭

💜💜thank you for this!! keep safe, you’re doing well!

#gai: 💭

[ikigaitsuki]

Seonghwa • Tower of Truth