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dollyyun · 3 months ago

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CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT ✧ P.JS [ PART 1 ]

PAIRING ✧ sugar daddy!jay x fem reader GENRE ✧ 18+(mdni), adulthood, 12 years age gap (reader is 22, jay is 34), ceo!jay, strangers to lovers, fluffs, soft love kinda, he falls first and falls harder, jay is a huge simp WARNING ✧ slow burn-ish, lengthy fic, some dramas, misunderstanding and miscommunication, angst, jealous-possessive!jay, explicit themes WORDCOUNT ✧ 41.7K

SYNOPSIS ✧ jay park is famously known for excelling in anything he does, except his mundane love life — it's practically nonexistent. maybe it's the pressure that constantly presses down on him due to being surrounded by his peers who are either engaged or married, but he no longer desires to retain his solitude, yearning to find someone with the intention to settle down. that is when he finally meets you — the perfect woman just for him, and perhaps the one that his heart and soul have been searching for in a long time. but the only issue is that you only see him as your sugar daddy, or so he thought.

PART 2

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: lengthy and possibly badly written smut, unprotected sex (no!), soft dom!jay, semi-mean dom!jay, sub!reader, reader whines and whimpers alot, ready is needy, pussy and tit lover!jay, lots of kissing, crying, name calling, daddy kink, making out, degradation, manhandling, dry humping, fingering, clit and nipple play, choking, ass and tits spanking, rough sex, eventual mild vanilla, squirting, creampies, overstimulations, multiple orgasms, aftercare, idk what else..

Love used to be a foreign concept that piqued a minuscule interest within him, as it served him no purpose, a sentiment so inconsequential to a man whose time pirouettes across the monotonous routine of corporate life.

Sure, a part of him revelled in the promiscuous attention from the ladies of all classes that inflated his ego, acutely aware of his sexual appeal that he took advantage of whenever he needed a reprieve from all the stifled emotions that stemmed from the taxing work and weighty obligation as a CEO, eventually leading to a coition with ladies of his pick that happened occasionally, but he felt nothing close to love — only pure lust. By the time the coitus came to an end, the lascivious attraction he once felt towards those same ladies dissipated as quickly as he diminished the hope of those who keenly desired him more than just their one-night stand.

Perhaps his desireless interest in love and dating stemmed from the fact that his parents rarely ever displayed affection and love towards one another throughout the years he grew up in the dull household that was completely devoid of any warmth or even the parental love he once yearned for. The warmth and affection he only ever received was from his nanny and the friends he made in his adolescent years until he reached the maturity to make a rationalised decision that he didn’t need love, not when all that mattered to him was to prevail against his dictatorial parents.

Hence, after years of different hurdles and industrious dedication to get where he is now, he has become a notable CEO who independently and successfully managed to establish a major corporation that now holds a valuable standing in today’s high society, one of the most powerful conglomerates in the country, and whose reputation surpasses the ones in the same league as him in the business industry. Most importantly, he has successfully freed himself from the clutches of his parents by demonstrating his far greater capabilities than they had often underestimated.

But eventually, years of prioritising his work-life and undervaluing the importance of love come bearing repercussions on his singularity that he once preserved. Despite being a successful business tycoon who wields the power and wealth that intimidates those in the same league, he certainly isn’t feeling successful now in the slightest upon the dejecting epiphany.

Park Jongseong, otherwise known as Jay Park, the preeminent CEO who evokes both admiration and intimidation from the masses of those in the high society of business, whose name is often uttered with quivering lips from those lower in hierarchy, whose confident demeanour seemingly exudes an indestructible security, and a pragmatic businessman who has been known to be apathetic towards marriage, is now ironically facing a predicament that involves his overt desperation in finding a suitable partner for him.

Jay can’t pinpoint the exact moment of this deep yearning for love ingrained within him, but perhaps it has to do with his aristocratic mother, who once reached out to him to inform him that he’s of the age to be wed for the umpteenth time, or it’s the pressure that constantly presses down on him due to being surrounded by his peers who are either engaged or married. Not to forget the repetitive questions that pertain to marriage, which he often receives from his peers whenever he is needed to attend an event.

Initially, Jay decided to dismiss such trivial matters as he was very much content without a significant other, but as time passed, he began to feel a profound loneliness whenever he was in the presence of couples or the passing love stories being exchanged in the others’ conversations. He tried to ward off the longing of a lover, but what was once a morsel of interest in love has entirely consumed him. He couldn’t even bring himself to invite other women to his bed like he used to, and it’s been approximately four years since he ever got laid, promising himself to be devoted to his future lover.

From there on, Jay knew that he no longer desired to retain his solitude, yearning to find someone with the intention to settle down. So he began to try dating with the help of his trustworthy best friend, but none of those women sparked any interest within him, nor did they meet his standards, which was ironic because he genuinely had no idea what he was actually looking for in a partner. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that those women he dated in the past didn’t really understand him, nor did they bother to get to know him other than ogling over his looks and desiring only his status to elevate their standing in high society.

Now, Jay knows what he truly wants, and that is to form a connection with someone who can reciprocate in a way he longs for. As it’s been months since he last went on a date, he decided to reach out to his best friend once more, but he definitely didn’t expect the latter’s new solution to be absurdly unconventional.

Jay assesses the content displayed on his phone screen again, and this time, with clear judgement in his eyes as he glances over at his best friend, who is lounging on the three-seater tuxedo sofa that is situated near the floor-to-ceiling windows of his own office and who is also currently grinning ear to ear. Jake Sim.

“So this was why you needed my phone for fifteen minutes?” Jay asks him slowly, as though he’s having a hard time grasping what he had just read, twice.

“I couldn’t miss out on any of your details or information. Plus, I had to go through your photos and upload some of your pics on your profile.” Jake groans dramatically, as if he had finished doing a task so laborious when all he had been doing was typing away on Jay’s phone with snickers escaping him intermittently. “Gotta say, you have a knack for taking great pics of yourself, for someone who hates getting his pics taken.”

But the compliment has no effect on the disbelieving male. “I’m looking for a potential partner that I can really connect with, not to acquire a damn sugar baby.” Jay grumbles, his eyes briefly glancing at his phone screen before a sigh escapes him as he rubs his faintly throbbing temple. “I might as well go back to one of the dating apps again.”

As it turns out, Jake decided that to extricate Jay from his prolonged predicament, the solution was to register the latter into the system of a rather crude app, which its purpose serves to benefit both parties — by both parties, it refers to sugar daddy and sugar baby, but these labels are only applicable once the transaction between both parties is finalised.

It’s risky on Jay’s end, as this would lead to the potential risk of damaging his reputation as well as the company’s if word got out that he had acquired a sugar baby, which would obviously insinuate that their relationship is purely yet risquély sensual, considering that sugar daddies and sugar babies are generally frowned upon. But in full honesty, Jay knows it himself that he’s untouchable, and nothing could ever mar his high-standing reputation or his company since he had been through worse — this has been proven when some of his nemeses attempted to destroy his empire back in his late 20s.

“I hate to break it to you, but none of the dating apps worked out for you, or have you forgotten?” Jake reminds as he casts Jay a knowing gaze.

Right, how could Jay have forgotten? To be fair, he had been on countless dates that were either set up by Jake or due to the dating apps that he exploited. Most of the women he had met and dated shared one thing in common despite coming from diverse backgrounds — they were all highly sophisticated and educated with impressive careers and undoubtedly materialistic, practically in his league. Still, none managed to captivate Jay’s interest, which Jake found bizarre and even told him that he fumbled big time with those ladies that could’ve been his wife by now. But what Jake didn’t understand is that neither of those — careers and status — mattered to Jay.

Jake notes the incertitude in Jay’s protracted silence before heaving a sigh. “It can’t be that bad, mate. Plus, this app is legit. Look at the reviews!”

“Legit, you say? For all you know, those reviews might turn out to be an artifice in order to attract users.” Jay asserts sternly before narrowing his eyes at Jake with suspicion. “Wait, have you used it before?”

“Nah. One of my employees told me how he met the love of his life through this app. In fact, some of my employees did.” Jake divulges, earning an inquisitive eyebrow raised from Jay. “This app is practically surpassing any dating site when it comes to effectiveness. In a way, it’s similar to a dating app with the addition of sugar babies getting the financial benefits, obviously.”

“That’s the thing, Jake. I’m not looking for a sugar baby.” Jay reiterates exasperatedly, but he can’t deny the growing interest at the prospect of having a sugar baby; well, more like the idea of his sugar baby being affectionate and giving him the attention he desired entices him.

“It won’t hurt for you to try.” Jake reasons with him, all the more to amplify that interest within him. “Besides, it would be a win-win for you, except you’d have to spend your money on your sugar baby— I mean, your future lover.”

Please. Even if Jay had managed to find the right one for him elsewhere, he wouldn’t mind spending his wealth on his lover unconditionally. The idea of his future lover spending his money feels just gratifying to him.

But the dubiety lingers in the recesses of his mind. “I don’t know, Jake.”

“This may or may not be your last resort if you want to find the right one for you, mate.” Jake’s words quickly dispel any worries or hesitation from Jay’s mind as the latter caves into the incessant temptation, now trying to navigate his way and familiarise himself with the app.

After getting the hang of it, Jay begins to check out the profiles of the sugar babies with a swift yet definitive swipe of his thumb. His face eventually twists into a grimace, almost as though he feels repulsed, rendering Jake, who has been observing him, curious.

“They’re all too young for me.” Jay expresses his concern, and he doesn’t bother to look up at his best friend, who ambles over to him before towering over his seated figure from behind.

Jake makes a noise that sounds as though he’s in disbelief. “What are you talking about? These ladies are only in their 20s, some probably still in university, but they’re all of legal age.” Jake counters, his tone bordering on such offence that Jay rolls his eyes at. “And you’re not that old. If you are, then what does that make me?”

Jay ignores Jake as he continues to swipe on his phone. In all of his dating experiences, most of the women were older than him by a few months or years, and the youngest he’s ever dated was a twenty-four-year-old, but that was when he was twenty-eight. Now, he’s thirty-four, and the idea of dating a woman a decade younger than him just feels strange, even if they are of legal age.

Just when Jay feels tempted to give up, a sugar baby captivates his interest the instant after he swipes the previous one, almost as if he has been bewitched by one look at your face. The previous sugar babies that he swiped are not exactly unattractive, but something about you seems highly appealing to him.

His heart gradually beats fast, almost erratic, while his eyes remain fixated on your face, feeling as though he has developed a ridiculous yet temporary crush on a passing stranger whom he knows that he would never see again, because damn, you are absolutely gorgeous.

Jay feels a compelling urge to pamper you like you deserve, be it with his money or time, and he couldn’t care less if you’d want more for as long as it’s his wealth that you’re spending or if you’d want to take up all of his time. Just the thought of it has him feeling a strange bubble of giddiness in his chest.

Jake leans forward in a bending position to get a good look at your face while his hand rests on the rear of Jay’s ergonomic leather chair. “Oh? She’s cute. Might want to send her a request.” Jake approves with a Cheshire grin on his face, earning a brief glance from Jay, but the latter’s thumb remains hovering above his phone screen, evidently hesitating to swipe or not. “I’m telling you that she’s the right one for you! I have a good feeling about her.”

Jay doesn’t respond to his best friend, feeling his tongue-tied as he taps on your profile, only to be distracted by other photos of you, albeit none is explicit. His eyes widen just a fraction as they feast greedily upon your hypnotic visual. Some of the photos display your full stature, and his mind resorts to producing such a vision that entails you having to tiptoe for your lips to meet him with your arms around his neck.

He quickly wards off the vision before deciding to read every detail and information about you with keen interest. You’re only twenty-two, the youngest sugar baby he came across after the tedious swiping earlier, and you indicated that you’re fresh out of college. He concludes that you’re a homebody upon reading your interests and hobbies. You’re also a foodie, which is perfect since he loves the idea of feeding his significant other with his impeccable cooking skills. But an info about you captures his attention, his eyes widening just a fraction while his heart pounds harder in his chest.

“Harvard University? She went to the same uni as us!” Jake points out in a gleeful exclamation as he pats Jay’s shoulder approvingly. “This is the exact reason why you should pick her. It’s fate.”

“I don’t know. I mean, she clearly indicated that she’s fresh out of college. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m being predatory.” Jay mutters, feeling disheartened as newfound insecurity rouses within him. He takes another look at your photos longingly. “Plus, I’m probably way out of her league.”

Even the words that leave his lips feel so foreign on his tongue, an unusual insecurity hitting him, but there is no doubt that a gorgeous woman like you has high standards. Plus, even by your photos alone, there is a refined charm exuding from you, a compelling allure that intensifies his newfound attraction towards you, but undoubtedly unparalleled to his own charms. And yet, he still wants you.

Jake eyes Jay in sheer disbelief, looking as if the latter grew another head, because after knowing him for years, no woman has ever made Jay insecure or less confident. Heck, he looks as though he’s just been rejected by you even before he could send you a request to chat.

“Are you really the Jay Park I know right now? You’re the damn CEO with a net worth of, like, what, more than your competitors’ combined? Trust me, she would want you. And you’re not being predatory when she’s already an adult.” Jake tries to uplift his best friend’s spirit, but the latter remains glum, eliciting an annoyed sigh from him. “I can’t believe I still have to do shit for you.”

In a blink of an eye, Jake snatches Jay’s phone away from him, prompting him to snap out of his gloomy rumination. “Hey! Give it back!” Jay barks out, abandoning his seat to retrieve his phone, but Jake is quick enough to put some distance between them and holds his palm out to the agitated male.

“Don’t get your pants twisted now. I’m only helping you to send a request to her since you’re taking an awfully long time. Don't want other sugar daddies to snatch her first.” Jake says with a sly grin before pressing on the request button option in a deliberate motion to piss him off.

“I can do it myself.” Jay grumbles as he manages to retrieve his phone. He looks down at his phone screen with a frown, but panic immediately drains the colour from his face. “Shit.”

The grin on Jake’s lips falls, concerned for his best friend. “What’s wrong?”

“She accepted my request!” Jay tells him in urgency while there is a weird sensation of an adrenaline rush within him. He paces back and forth, his eyes occasionally glancing down at his phone screen. From the way Jay looks incredibly worried, Jake would have mistaken that he’s facing a business bankruptcy. “Fuck, what do I do next?”

“Dude, seriously?” Jake scoffs loudly, feeling both annoyed and amused at how Jay already seems so whipped for you to the point where the sight is almost pathetic. No, really. The guy looks as if he had accidentally sent his love confession to his crush. “You’re fucking ridiculous. I’ve never seen you being so—"

“Are you going to help me out or not?” Jay cuts him off in a snappy tone, casting a glare at Jake, who is beginning to look exasperated by his eccentric behaviour.

“Just send her a damn text!” Jake bursts out in annoyance with hand gestures. His face contorts into a scowl as Jay has yet to make a move. “Don’t tell me you need me to do it for you too?”

Jay releases a shaky breath as he gathers his emotions that have been going haywire from the moment he swiped to your profile. His face hardens with determination. “I got this.”

Jay sees a tiny green dot just below your miniature profile icon above, indicating that you’re online. He tames the odd yet annoying flutters within him as he proceeds to send you a text, hoping that it won’t come off awkward to you.

JAY: Hey.

You don’t think you could ever repay your best friend the way she truly deserves, not even with money. You could say that she’s your saviour because without her, you would probably have ended up living in the streets years ago the moment both of your parental figures decided to pursue their mutual interest in building their own respective families.

Though Sabrina is your saviour, you can’t exactly describe her as an angel. Sure, she has the face that is worthy to be worshipped, a dazzling beauty with her doll-like features, but she has the mouth of a sailor while her angel-like demeanour is a stark contrast to her vivacious personality. Still, no complaints from you, though, because only you know the pure benevolence of her heart.

Sabrina and you have always been attached at the hips since day one, since the day she fiercely defended you against the mean girls back in high school, since the day she saw the mistreatment you received from the ones who shared the same blood as you, since the moment she regarded you like her family, just as how her family became yours — the only time when you received familial love from the very people who treated you better than your own blood ever did. Heck, her parents practically raised you under their roof and regarded you as their daughter.

You will forever feel indebted to Sabrina and her family despite their sincere insistence on showing such kindness to you and the familial love that you once yearned for from your parents, for helping and supporting you in any way they could despite your adamant protests, and for being the reason why you clung onto the sliver of hope that life was still worth living.

But right now, a part of you feels tempted to eradicate that obligated debt you once held earnestly, your mind slowly spiralling into chaos while your eyes smoulder with unspoken ire as you assess the content on your phone screen before returning your gaze to your best friend.

“What did you do?” You ask her calmly, remaining eerily composed as opposed to the myriad of emotions that are embroiled in the storming chaos within you.

Oh, you know exactly what she did, and you may or may not resort to such undignified violence.

“I’m not quite sure what you meant.” Sabrina feigns innocence as she is comfortably perched on the couch, batting her naturally thick eyelashes at you in deliberation that aggravates your restrained wrath.

You raise your eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because I don’t recall signing myself up to be a damn sugar baby.”

You were rightfully appalled upon the discovery of an unfamiliar app that’s tailored for those in need of both fast cash and affection from older men after you had just finished showering. You shouldn’t have left your phone alone with your best friend, and you should’ve changed your password sooner.

“Fine. I might or might not have registered you on that app on your behalf.” Sabrina finally concedes, grinning at you cheekily despite the storms she can see above your head, her senses alerting her to be prepared for the imminent wrath. “Plus, I’ve already accepted the right sugar daddy for you! And he’s hot!”

Her words fall deaf to your ears, and the next you know, your restrained wrath goes unbridled that propels you in charging towards your best friend, whose pretence drops.

“I’m going to kill you!” You bellow furiously, eliciting a girly shriek from the blonde as she is swift enough to remove herself from the path of your wrath, leaping over the couch.

“You can’t kill me! I’m your only best friend!” Sabrina cries out defensively, putting more energy in her legs as you continue to chase after her, practically running around in the living room of your shared apartment.

“And you’re about to be a dead one!” You yell out after her, feeling short of breath while the exertion in your body reminds you of your poor stamina, but in a fit of rage, you are relentless, even as she manages to outrun you. “What in the world were you thinking?! A sugar daddy?!”

Now, Sabrina is standing across from where you are with the couch that serves as a barrier between her temporary safe haven and your raging wrath. She pants lightly to catch her breath as you do the same. “I was trying to help you!” She reveals earnestly, her tone laced with desperation and sincerity.

Help. The word itself revolts you, even after receiving help from her and her generous family throughout your teens. It triggers a switch in you that has you retaliating in defence against the familiar thoughts that have been a constant plague in the recesses of your mind, how pitifully impotent you are, especially considering your current situation.

Sabrina means well; she always has, despite her mischief and her wild streaks — you know that much. But perhaps the repressive denial of your protracted predicament has finally caught up to you, as you now bitterly acknowledge how these past months were a bleak dwelling in the resentment and misery of your own failure despite the facade you put up in front of the others that seemed so impenetrable.

“How is finding a sugar daddy going to be any help to me?” You decide to pour the remnants of your rage by grabbing a pillow on the couch and aiming at the blonde-haired before repeating it again with the leftover pillows. “I’m not about to sell my body in exchange for money!”

“Not all sugar daddies are into it for sex!” Sabrina counters vehemently as she dodges your relentless attacks. “Some are actually decent— stop throwing pillows at me!”

Surprisingly, you come to a stop — more like because there are no pillows left to throw at her. “And how do you even know that?” You struggle to retain any decorum after the torrent of outbursts, your demeanour placid, but at least you don’t feel as murderous as you were earlier.

“Heard from a friend.” Sabrina replies tersely, eyeing you warily as you appear deceptively calm. Upon seeing that there are no traces of murderous intent in your countenance, she heaves a sigh, her blue eyes softening with a familiar sentiment. “Look, I genuinely want to help you because I know how much you’ve been struggling financially after what happened.”

You recognise the sentiment in her eyes — a catalyst that once ruptured the harmony in your dynamic with her, nearly severing your only true friendship — all because you had too much pride to accept her help in alleviating your burden by offering you money to pay off your tuition fees, and since your judgement was clouded by the torrent of emotions, you couldn’t help but feel insulted as she thought that you were completely helpless, especially since she knew that you were working as a part-time librarian at your university while still committing to the obligation as a full-time student.

You briefly look away from her gaze, your jaw locking with tension. Right. Money. In the end, it all comes down to the instability of finance — the primary cause of most problems and, sadly, a common hurdle that affects relationships and mental health, because the harsh reality is that money will always be consequential, especially considering the inflation in today’s capitalism.

Unfortunately for you, your current predicament is considered critical, and whether you like it or not, Sabrina is right. You have been struggling financially ever since you were dismissed from your employment at an illustrious cafe that required you an hour to commute from your place — well, technically, it’s your shared apartment with Sabrina, and it’s signed under her name, but she has been living with her boyfriend since graduation, rarely ever residing here now.

Hence, you decided to take responsibility for all the bills as a form of repayment for all the times she’s helped you throughout high school. Sabrina was sceptical at first as she was worried that you might feel pressured, but of course, you reassured her with confidence that you were more than capable of handling everything. Besides, you had always done everything on your own in those times without Sabrina and her family to witness the true constant battles you had to face. There were some things you needed to keep hidden from them, even if a part of you implored you to seek help from those within your reach.

You return your gaze to her after the prolonged silence and sigh deeply. “So you thought getting me a sugar daddy was the solution?” You ask wryly.

You know damn well what sugar daddies are and the purpose they serve to their clients, or rather, sugar babies. No matter how dire your financial situation is, as it’s been a month and a half since you got sacked by your employer, you could not imagine yourself earning money through an unvirtuous method. Even so, older men are really not your type.

“It’s the easy and fast way to earn money.” Sabrina attempts to entice you, to which you roll your eyes since you know that much. Still, you can’t deny the spark of temptation within you, and you blame your desperate need for money. “Besides, you’re a total hottie. Just one glance at any of your pics is enough to captivate their interest.”

“You flattering me does not excuse you from getting a beating— wait, what? My pics?” You splutter out your words, your eyes widening in disbelief, completely appalled at the idea of strangers, particularly old men, swiping through your pictures.

“Yeah, I uploaded some on your profile.” Sabrina beams with a smile, completely unfazed at your display of horror as you rush for the dining table to retrieve your phone. “It’s a requirement, anyway, for your potential sugar daddy to check you out.” She adds, agitating you further.

Your fingers move in frantic motion as you navigate your way on the damned app before finally finding your profile. Your eyes widen upon seeing the pics she uploaded. “Sab!” You exclaim in a whine.

“I know! I chose your best ones!” Sabrina gushes, looking smugly proud of her picks as though you are not currently shooting daggers at her with your eyes. “Sure, glare at me all you want. I just know you’ll thank me.”

You grumble your annoyance under your breath before begrudgingly diverting your attention to the phone screen. You tap on the notification icon and spot the username that has you scoffing lightly. Jay_Park, a basic username — not that yours is any better, but to be fair, your best friend was the one who created it for you.

You reluctantly proceed to check out the sugar daddy who had interest in you by tapping on his username while deliberately displaying your disinterest in your countenance to your best friend, only to be flabbergasted by the pictures he had uploaded; even his face in the miniature profile icon is striking enough to grab your attention at one glance.

“He’s hot.” You blurt out, your eyes never straying off his pictures. He is undeniably attractive despite most of his pics only displaying part of his face due to the angle he took, but you trust your judgement as you know that his broad body build screams total hotness, particularly his angular jawline that looks like it could cut your finger.

Not only is this user Jay_Park attractive, but every one of his pics gives off high sophistication, and none of his pics are as explicit as you had expected, like a hideous ripe dick pic of an old man or something. You have a strong feeling that he may be different from the sugar daddies you once perceived.

What was once barely a minuscule of interest has evolved into an unfamiliar keenness, and it’s pathetic to you, all because he’s possibly the most attractive man you have ever come across, and there is no way you would want to pass up this opportunity.

Sabrina shoots you an I-told-you-so look after studying the unconcealed fascination on your countenance. “See? I knew you'd be interested in him.”

Your eyes skim across every detail about him, his hobbies, and his interests until a certain piece of information has your lips turning down into a frown, feeling dubious. “But he’s way older than me.”

In fact, he’s 12 years older than you. Though dating is not exactly your forté, you have never dated or had a fling with men older than you by three years. The last fling you had was with a guy who was two years older than you, an engineering major, who also turned out to be an inconsiderate jerk.

“Babe, he’s only thirty-four. The older he is, the more experienced and better he is in bed. On top of that, he’s a CEO!” Sabrina emphasises in a resolute tone, but you only cast her a numb look, eliciting exasperation from her. “Hello? A literal hot CEO sent you a request, which means he’s interested?”

You already knew that when you were reading up on his profile, which is why you are numb to the conflicting emotions within you. A part of you fears the possibility of being deceived by this man who may be a fraud because it’s too good to be true, but then if he’s indeed legit, then why would a CEO himself be interested in you? You don’t even feel like you could meet his standards.

But before you can speak your mind, your phone vibrates in your hand, drawing your attention, only to feel your heart pounding in your chest upon seeing the pop-up notification on the screen.

[Jay_Park sent you a message!]

“Shit.” You begin to panic, your emotions going haywire while your mind is devoid of any rationality, unable to even think coherently.

Sabrina eyes you weirdly with a confused frown. “What?”

“He sent me a message!” You tell her frantically, pacing back and forth, which has your best friend rolling her eyes at. “What do I do?! I’m not even prepared for this! And it’s all your fault!”

“It’s my fault, we get that! Just reply to him quickly, or he’ll lose interest!” Sabrina exclaims, a blend of excitement and frustration glittering in her blue eyes as she receives no response from you. She takes quick steps forward and places both hands on your shoulders, snapping you out of your mini spiral, her stern eyes drilling into yours. “Girl, calm down. Just text him back as normally as you can. Also, be cool with it and try not to come off as too desperate. Some sugar daddies get turned off by instant desperation. Don’t ask why.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips before you hesitantly nod your head, being coaxed by the confidence and determination in your best friend’s countenance. She takes a step back from you, allowing you to pace yourself as you look at your phone screen again.

Biting down your bottom lip, you nervously proceed to reciprocate his message, your hands trembling slightly as you hold your phone.

YOU: Hi!

You cringe visibly as soon as you hit the send button, uncertain whether or not your greeting came off as too eager, and you rarely ever use exclamation marks whenever you text unless you need to make a point or feel pissed. But you are taken by surprise when he replies to you quicker than your best friend does.

JAY: I have to be honest, doll. I’m not really sure how to go about from here.

“He’s a fast texter.” You tell Sabrina, your tone indicating that you’re impressed by the bare minimum while your heart races at the nickname he called you. No guy has ever called you any nicknames other than babe.

YOU: Is this your first time being on this platform? JAY: Embarrassingly, yes. YOU: It’s okay. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s my first time too, so I have no idea what we’re supposed to do next.

“I knew that I had accepted the right one.” Sabrina remarks with an approving grin as she notices that your attention is fixated on your phone. She grabs her purse from the coffee table before ambling towards the main door. “Well, babe, I’ve done my part, so you’re on your own from here.”

“Huh?” You lift your head up, confusion fogging your vision briefly before you realise that she’s indeed leaving you as she slips on her wedge heels. “Sab! You can’t just leave me—“

“Toodles~ Let me know once you officially become his sugar baby!” Sabrina cuts you off in a ramble, quickly shooting you a pearly smile before she heads out in haste.

You scoff, your eyes still staring at the space that she once stood before, and you reluctantly force yourself to deal with what she started like an adult. You muster the courage to reply to the text that he sent two minutes ago.

JAY: Just for confirmation, does this mean that you’re interested in being my sugar baby?

You feel a bubble of giddiness in your chest just by the word ‘my’ alone. The idea of being his sugar baby wouldn’t be so bad, you think. He’s handsome, evidently wealthy, a fast texter, and the tone of his messages feels amiable.

YOU: I am, unless you have other options in mind to consider? JAY: No other options to consider when you’re the only one who caught my interest. YOU: I find that hard to believe. Surely, other sugar babies must’ve caught your eye before you found me. JAY: None is my type. YOU: Are you also implying that I’m your type? JAY: What do you think? YOU: I’m usually not anyone’s type unless they want me for a quick fuck.

You didn’t mean to be vulgar with your texts, especially when your sugar daddy is a sophisticated man who most likely rarely ever curses, but you wanted to be straightforward.

JAY: Are you also implying that I’m interested in you simply because I want to sleep with you? YOU: Isn’t that what sugar daddies in general are interested in? They pamper their sugar babies with their wealth, and in return, sugar babies please them in bed. JAY: Well, my interest differs from theirs. YOU: I’m sorry if I sound rude, but why are you on this platform in the first place if your interest differs from theirs? JAY: To put it shortly, I was looking for a partner that I could connect well with, romantically. YOU: Shouldn’t you be on a dating site instead? JAY: In fact, I have, multiple times actually. But it didn’t work out for me. YOU: So you’re not actually looking for a sugar baby? JAY: Not really, but after going through your profile, I changed my mind. I’m interested in pampering you with my wealth and attention. You don’t have to offer anything in return. The only thing I want from you is to be able to spend time with you. YOU: Oh. JAY: Did I upset you in any way? Or is there anything you’re not fine with? YOU: No. It’s just that I’m still trying to process this because, honestly, it sounds too good to be true. JAY: It’s fine. Take your time. YOU: But can I completely be honest with you? JAY: You sure can, doll. YOU: I’m really glad that you’re not a creep, as in you didn’t straight up send dick pics or the fact that you’re not being passive-aggressive.

A part of you wouldn't actually mind if he did send a picture of his dick, but you immediately brush off the thought, your cheeks flushing warmly.

JAY: I wouldn’t dare to make a gorgeous doll such as yourself uncomfortable. I also had a feeling that you weren’t into that kind of stuff.

Based on your experience, men usually find you cute or pretty, but to know that a very attractive online stranger, who you will regard as your sugar daddy, finds you gorgeous evokes a strange bubble of giddiness within you.

YOU: Thank you for your consideration :) So, gorgeous doll? JAY: Are you uncomfortable with the nickname? I’m sorry. I got carried away. YOU: Don’t be! I’m actually fine with it. Just didn’t expect you to find me gorgeous. JAY: Of course, I do. I’m sure you look even more gorgeous in real life. YOU: Such flattering words from a handsome man himself. JAY: Look who is being a flatterer now. YOU: Have you seen yourself? JAY: Don’t make this about me, doll. YOU: I’m not. I’m just pointing out that you really do look handsome, even if those pics only showed half of your face. JAY: Nothing is more flattering than a darling doll such as yourself finding me handsome.

You continue the conversation with him, your lips stretching into a wide smile while your eyes sparkle with an avid interest in your sugar daddy, albeit you exchange such flirtatious words with him that render you in wonderment, because you actually have no idea how to flirt without cringing at yourself, but with Jay, it just feels natural.

JAY: Anyway, I just want to let you know as well that we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with. YOU: Are you sure? JAY: Yes. Your comfort matters to me. Besides, I can wait for you for as long as I need to.

Such salacious thoughts begin to fog in your head before you quickly expel those thoughts, inhaling sharply, but you know that you have now developed a desire for this man.

YOU: That’s so sweet of you. Thank you, Jay. JAY: Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t properly spoiled you with anything. Speaking of, are you available tomorrow? YOU: Yes. Why? JAY: To meet you, of course. YOU: Sure, tomorrow it is. JAY: Great. I’ll pick you up at your place.

You continue to chat with him a little longer than you intended, including giving him your address and getting to know a little bit more about him. Eventually, you lose track of time, feeling a little too comfortable chatting with a stranger, as though he’s your long-lost friend instead of your sugar daddy.

JAY: I’m on my way to your place, doll. Can’t wait to see you :)

That was forty minutes ago, but you’ve been anxiously checking his message every so often, your nerves going erratic to the point where your empty stomach churns unpleasantly that you feel the urge to throw up. You have never felt this extremely nervous before, not even for your finals back in college.

You can still feel the weight of exhaustion in your eyelids that threaten to close, but the thought of Jay ringing your doorbell keeps you conscious. You couldn’t sleep well last night, tossing and turning on your bed, and you knew that it was either the excitement or the nervousness of finally meeting your sugar daddy that prevented you from getting a good night's sleep.

Plus, you had to get up four hours early to do some light chores in order to make your apartment look neat and to make yourself look as impeccable as your skin, which is devoid of any unnecessary hair since the dress that you’re currently wearing displays more skin than you intended. You didn’t put in much effort in your makeup, just the perfect volume to enhance your features.

You let out a quiet groan at the realisation of the effort you put in just for a man, an older man at that, which is also utterly ridiculous, because it’s as if you are keen on impressing your sugar daddy, and this is not even a date, or is it?

The doorbell chiming throughout the apartment startles you, prompting you to abandon the couch as you pad across the living room to get to the main door. You don’t bother to check through the peephole, your hand immediately latching on the door handle, albeit your nervousness remains unabating.

Before you can spiral further, your hand has a mind of its own, because the next thing you know, you are greeted by a very handsome man whose stature towers over your figure in an imposing manner, and he’s the very same man who happens to be your sugar daddy.

You can barely check him out when his dark eyes compel yours, your breath hitching in your throat at the sharp intensity in his dark irises that intimidates you, but in a good way that has your heart beating rapidly like you had just made eye contact with your crush. You take the opportunity of the awkward silence to trace every feature of his face with your keen eyes — how remarkably handsome he is with his chiselled forehead and jaw, his flawless nose that evokes envy within you, his dark eyebrows that look naturally refined, and his lips that are naturally pink. His jet-black hair is styled impeccably in a slick back, enhancing his striking face. Oh, he’s absolutely the most gorgeous man ever.

Little do you know that while you are in a state of intimidation due to his potent yet irresistible aura that feels overwhelming, Jay feels just the same, his tongue completely tied the moment you opened the door. It is as though he’s seeing an angel, rendering him starstruck. Those pictures of you that he spent almost the entire night admiring did not do you justice, because you look radiantly beautiful up close that even the constellations in the starry sky pale in comparison.

His eyes roam around you shamelessly, his throat feeling parched while his mind is storming with such dangerous thoughts he has been trying to keep them at bay. You look sweet yet alluring at the same time as you are adorned in a blue floral printed dress that reaches above your knees, revealing the perfect curves of your legs, and the subtle low cut displays your dainty neckline that is bare of any jewellery, to which he makes a mental note to buy you one. He fights off the strong urge to ogle at your defined cleavage and how noticeably succulent the curves of your upper mounds are.

When his eyes return to your face, you are already staring at him with a small smile. Your shyness nearly has his knees buckling underneath him. He simply can’t believe that you’re real. Oh, what a wonderful privilege to be able to see you up close.

“Hi.” Jay greets you breathlessly, but you are more surprised at how soft-spoken he is, such a contrast to his unyielding facade that intimidated you earlier.

“Hi.” You reciprocate softly, and it is enough to shoot a Cupid’s arrow to his beating heart. Your voice sounds velvety, a mellow that soothes him.

Jay takes another look at you, blinking his eyes as though you are unreal. “W-Wow. You look—“ He pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows a nervous lump in his throat. He softens with an awkward smile that completely charms you. “You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You can’t believe how shy you are right now compared to the yapper you were last night when you texted him for nearly two hours. You take another look at him, feeling a strange flutter in your heart as you admire how he looks delectable in a button-down navy-coloured blouse that displays a teasing peek of his toned chest while his gold necklace complements his metal studs on his earlobes. “And you look really handsome.”

Jay is about to combust right here and now at your compliment that he has heard countless times from the ladies that pinned his attention back then, even more so when you beam at him with a slightly wider smile now. The weight in his hand immediately reminds him of what he intended to do after you opened the door before your breathtaking beauty distracted him.

“This is for you.” Jay extends his hand to you, prompting you to look down at a small bouquet of flowers in his grasp, but you can see the hesitation in the way his hand slowly retracts from you. “Unless you have allergies to flowers, which is totally fine. I can keep it—“

“I don’t have any, so don’t worry.” You reassure him, and without thinking twice, your hand quickly reaches out to accept his sweet gesture, only to feel a faint electricity when your fingers brush against his before you finally grab the bouquet from him. Your heart swells with something unfamiliar as you look at the flowers before meeting his kind gaze. “Thank you for these. It’s the first that someone has ever given me flowers on a first meeting.”

You almost wanted to utter the word ‘date’ because this is certainly not a date but more like a formal meeting with your sugar daddy as part of the first transaction. You mentally berate yourself for hoping for something that you were initially against and the fact that you only intend to regard him as your sugar daddy.

Jay’s bashful shell cracks when he adorns a smirk on his handsome face that has you swooning on the inside. “You can call me old-fashioned.”

“I love old-fashioned.” You decide to play along as you notice the spark of mischief in his eyes, but really, you do love yourself some old-fashioned.

“Are you ready to go?” Jay asks coolly, hoping that he doesn’t sound too eager as to how impatiently desperate he really is to spend the day with you.

“Yes. Just give me a sec.” You tell him while making your way to the shoe compartment, where you also place the bouquet on the counter, before grabbing your ankle-strapped heels.

As you return to him, you busily place your feet onto the heels before attempting to secure the strap around your ankles, only to be surprised when Jay gets down on one knee in front of you, rendering you flabbergasted. “Please. Allow me.” He insists without looking up at you, putting his hands into the task.

“It’s okay. I can do it myself—“ But your protest goes unheard as he secures the straps for you with such gentleness that it sends the weird flutter to your heart again, while the way his fingers brush against your skin feels electrifying.

Your eyes never leave him even after he’s done, his figure towering over yours again despite the heels that elevate your height. “Shall we?” Jay asks with a smile, to which you nod your head at before stepping outside of the threshold and locking the door.

The two of you proceed to make your way to the elevator, silence wrapping around you once more, but only less awkwardly. You chew your bottom lip out of habit, wanting to say something to dispel this awkwardness, but the heat of his body close next to you sends your head into a frenzy.

“Do you live alone?” Jay breaks the ice, and you silently thank him because you were slowly going insane. As soon as he presses the button, the elevator chimes open, and he gestures to you to enter first before he follows suit.

“Sort of.” You answer unsurely, earning a look of intrigue from him. You decide to explain shortly. “I live with my best friend, but ever since she got into a relationship, she’s rarely ever at our shared apartment, not that I minded. She can be quite a headache.”

His lips twitch into a smile, almost as if he’s fond of something. “My best friend’s the same too.” He chuckles lightly, but they sound heavenly in your ears. “What about family? Any siblings?”

“And here I thought it was my turn to ask you a question.” You say cheekily, your lips stretching a little wider as you feel inclined to be frivolous towards him after the lingering awkwardness dissipates into thin air.

His eyes narrow at you in a playful suspicion, followed by a broad smirk on his lips. “You’re a cheeky doll, aren’t you?”

“It’s only fair that I ask you a question after you asked me one.” You say in an airily manner, ignoring how his handsome smirk has your mind in a frenzy once more. “But to answer your question, I’m an only child. My parents are divorced, so I’m kinda my own now. Always have.”

Being an inherent observant that comes with an ability to heed the tone of voice, even the subtlest intonation, Jay recognises the underlying resentment in the neutrality of your voice and how he catches a fleeting sentiment he knows all too well in your eye, but the radiant smile on your face immediately overshadows any traces of somberness, albeit he is quick to grasp that family must be a sensitive topic for you.

“It seems that we have a lot more in common than I thought. I’m an only child too.” Jay says lightly in an attempt to dispel any sour feelings within you. He opens his mouth to say something, but the elevator chimes open, revealing the view of the basement parking lot. He allows you to step out first before he follows suit, guiding you to his vehicle. “So what’s the next question you have for me?”

“What made you become interested in me? You could’ve chosen other sugar babies.” You ask with genuine curiosity. The question has been lingering in the back of your mind all night. As he looks at you with an eyebrow raised, you try to search for something in his eyes, any falsehood or that he’s actually a bad guy with ill intentions, but all you see is the pure kindness that reflects the window of his soul.

“I just had a good feeling about you.” He answers with utmost sincerity, his eyes softening before giving you his signature smirk. “Besides, there was no way I would ever pass up a woman as gorgeous as you.”

A part of you feels so tempted to wipe away that handsome smirk off his face with a kiss, but you immediately ward off any inappropriate thought, diverting your attention to the sleek black Mercedes-Benz, his car.

Jay, being the gentleman he is, opens the passenger door for you, to which you shyly thank him before you carefully settle inside. Not too long later, Jay is right next to you, operating the functions of the vehicle that is wheeling towards where the main road is at.

The silence is accompanied by the music emanating from the radio, but it still isn’t enough to allay the newfound tension settling in your bones. You even distract yourself by discreetly examining the impeccable condition of the car that comes with a pleasant lavender smell before you notice the small bottle of fragrance diffuser that hangs in the air from behind the rearview mirror.

Something different flutters within you; how oddly intensifying it is, but one thing is for sure — you find Jay more dangerously attractive than the first time you felt.

You cave into the temptation to take a glance at him, only to nearly gawk at his strong yet flawless side profile, how his angular jawline looks defined up close. His countenance displays such cool impassivity, exuding an air of confidence compared to your meekness. Your eyes fall to his veiny hands before they travel lower; his sleeves had been pulled to his elbows, allowing the sultry veins that protrude in his arms and revealing a golden Rolex that latched around his wrist. You quickly look away, feeling the gradual heat building up in your body.

You swear that older men are not your type, but Jay may be the first to change that.

“Are you okay?” Jay asks, his soft voice startling you. The way he’s hot, a gentleman, a stickler for cleanliness, and soft-spoken? You must have done something incredibly honourable in your past life.

“Nervous, actually.” You tell him honestly, daring yourself to look at him as he briefly takes a glance at you before refocusing on the road. Though you still feel diffident, something about him compels you to confide your worries in him. “I just don’t want to mess things up on our first meeting.”

Jay cracks into a humorous smile. “Funny, because I had the same thought earlier.” Oh, he really did, worrying incessantly all morning that he might fuck things up by coming off too desperate for your attention on the first meet.

“Is this a date?” You accidentally blurt out the question you intended to expel, but a part of you is genuinely keen that this is actually a date and not just a formal transactional meeting between a sugar daddy and his sugar baby.

As the traffic light turns red, the car comes to a stop. Jay directs his full attention to you, a gentle smile touching his lips. “You can call it whatever you want, doll.”

You hold his gaze for a little longer, unable to fathom the inscrutable emotions behind the window of his eyes despite the unwavering kindness. You find yourself lifting a smile that mirrors his. “A date it is.”

Jay decides your first destination to be a fine dining restaurant in which he had booked a reservation in advance. Though your empty stomach rumbles lightly in approval, you can’t deny how out of place you are at an upscale restaurant, most especially to be in the presence of upper-class patrons, albeit Jay personally requested a more secluded booth since he values privacy.

Silence settles on your booth, not that you are bothered by it as you are too occupied in marvelling at the sophisticated decors that emphasise their opulence. The ambience feels exquisitely serene with the undercurrent of varying conversations from the other patrons indistinctly in the background, but they seem to tune out completely when your eyes are drawn back to the man seated across from you.

The pendant lights above your booth cast a gentle glow that creates a beautiful halo around his handsome face that is poised with concentration as he reads through the menu while you feel the familiar flutter in your tummy again. Everything about him is so charming, and you don’t think that you could ever get tired of seeing him every day.

When his eyes flicker to you, you immediately look down at the menu in front of you on the table, feigning keen interest as you force yourself to read the names and descriptions of their dishes. You hope he didn’t notice that you had been gazing at him, but your ears perk up at the breathy titter that leaves his lips, causing your face to flush warmly in embarrassment.

“Anything on the menu that interests you?” Jay asks, amusement colouring his tone momentarily before it is replaced by the familiar neutrality of tenderness.

“I’m not sure.” You mutter, your attention now being fixated on the list of dishes, particularly the prices that perturb you, because how can a mere salad cost more than your favourite sandwich at your go-to coffee shop?

Though the bill will undoubtedly be handled by your sugar daddy, you feel highly conscious to choose even just a salad because of how pricey everything on the menu is. You flicker your eyes to him, allowing him to grasp your dubiety. “These look exquisite, but the prices—“

“Have you forgotten who you’re with, doll?” Jay intercepts gently, his lips curling into a smirk that borders on smug, but the assurance in his kind eyes dispels any doubts from your mind. “Don’t worry about the prices. Just order anything you want.”

Your eyes run through the menu again, but you can’t decide on which, eliciting a sigh from you before you look at him apologetically. “I don’t really know what to order.”

“That’s alright, doll.” Jay reassures you with a warm smile before he raises his hand slightly to call one of the waiters over. You watch the interaction between Jay and the waiter, displaying practiced professionalism in his manner as though he had done this many times. “We’d like to have the full course meals alongside your finest wine.”

Your eyes widen at his order. You wait until the waiter collects your menus and leaves your booth. “Isn’t that too much?” You ask Jay unsurely, your eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Nothing is ever too much.” Jay insists casually while his eyes greedily drink in your pristine beauty under the soft luminescence before they fall to your lustrous, glossed lips that look kissable. He clears his throat, warding off any sensual thoughts of how your lips would feel on his. “Besides, you did indicate in your profile that you’re a foodie.”

You stifle a groan, mentally cursing your best friend for adding unnecessary information about yourself, but then again, she’s not wrong. You are indeed a foodie, a connoisseur of food, according to Sabrina, but it doesn’t mean that you’re skilled at cooking. She even forbade you from touching any kitchen appliances as she was worried about the possibility of you blowing up the apartment, to which you rolled your eyes at her exaggeration.

“Right, how could I forget?” You cast him a sheepish smile before deciding to focus more on him now, your body slanting forward that displays your interest with your elbows resting on the table. “So, a CEO, huh? Must’ve been tough with all the heavy responsibilities that come with being a CEO.”

Though you lack the knowledge of what a CEO’s responsibilities exactly entail, you know enough that the fate of his company rests on his palm, and since you’re at it, you decide to make a mental note to do thorough research about him and his company during your spare time.

“It isn’t so bad. Guess I got accustomed to the work and its volatility.” Jay says coolly, exuding an air of confidence that awes you as you look at him with a newfound reverence. “But my employees are competent and trustworthy, so the company operates smoothly most of the time.”

Jay proceeds to divulge more about his work life, mostly the lighter stuff that gauges your understanding, and you notice how he talks about his employees with high regard, earning a small smile from you as you conclude that he’s not the stereotypical callous CEO that you used to read about in those fiction books.

During mid-conversation, the first courses of your meals arrive, served by the same waiter. The two of you decide to indulge your neglected hungers with a comfortable silence wrapping around you. The silence stretches on even when the second course of your meal arrives, but Jay intermittently checks on you, asking if the food is to your liking or if you need anything else that has your heart fluttering again at how attentive he is to you.

The prior conversation continues when the desserts are served that eventually appease your sweet cravings as the delightful saccharine touches your tongue. He tells you more about himself, particularly his general background, but you notice how he avoids mentioning his family.

“No way!” You gasp in surprise after what he had just revealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement while you feel an odd sense of adrenaline rush; probably the sugar that now invades your system. “You went to the same university as me?”

“Sure did, doll. I have the degree cert to prove it if you don’t believe me.” Jay grins, displaying his perfect teeth while you are distracted by the dimples in his cheeks, melting you on the inside. “I was a business major.”

“I majored in journalism.” You tell him. You know that the world is small, but you didn’t expect it to be that small. Maybe you are being delusional, but maybe the invisible string theory turns out to be true after all. Oh, how this intensifies the strange feelings that perturb your heart as each flutter brushes against it.

“That’s cool. Way better than business.” Jay says with a genuine smile, his eyes sparkling with interest.

You scoff lightly. “I doubt that. I mean, look at where it got you now.” You point out, ignoring the familiar bitterness of the searing truth, that while the people around you are succeeding in life, you are the only one who is falling significantly behind.

“It certainly wasn’t an easy journey because I started out with nothing, not even the support from my parents.” Jay finds himself unravelling the part that he intended to keep hidden, but seeing how evidently a good listener you are, he feels like he can trust someone else other than his best friend to listen to him in a way he wants. “Thankfully, my best friend was there to give me the support I needed, even if he’s a pain in my ass.”

“You don’t have a good relationship with your parents either?” You ask gently without realising that you have given away a hint that confirms his prior suspicions about the reason why the family topic is sensitive to you, not that he fares well with it either, but the burning resentment he harboured for years has now dulled, probably because he has long since come to an acceptance, thanks to the years of detachment from his parents.

“It’s hard to say. I’m still in contact with them, but only when it’s strictly necessary. Truthfully, they’re not exactly the ideal parents for me.” Jay divulges with a thoughtful hum as the memories slowly resurface in his mind, but the pain and resentment that he expected are absent, only a faint bitterness. “My father wanted me to oversee one of his established companies abroad while my mother wanted to marry me off to her business partner’s daughter when I was still a senior in college. But since I didn't want any of those, they threatened to disown me, so I decided to go about being on my own, even when I had nothing at the beginning.”

You feel a burning resentment within you on behalf of him, your face contorting into a displeased frown. You have no idea what sort of hurdles he had to conquer, but you know for a fact that no one deserves to go through it all alone without the support of family, even if the support is only emotional. Though you know that by his demeanour alone he must have made peace with this, the compassion in you towards his backstory hurts your heart.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You utter softly, your outstretched hand on the table itching to hold his hand to offer him some form of comfort. “You deserve to have parents who fully support you in anything you do.”

“I can say the same to you too, doll.” Jay says with a small yet knowing smile. He slants his body forward. “So, want to tell me more about yourself?”

You don’t really intend to, but you can’t seem to deny him, especially when his kind yet handsome gaze is simply irresistible. You know that he’s genuinely interested, but you fear that his perspective of you might change for the worse, which would lead to him discarding you aside and choosing another sugar baby, albeit you know damn well that most sugar babies had gone through financial tribulations that became the very reason they sought out those dependable older men. Still, you muster the courage, your lips quivering as you begin to speak.

“Nothing much. I’m just a broke alumna who graduated six months ago and who is also unfortunately unable to land a job related to my degree despite graduating with honours and the countless interviews I’ve gone through.” You unravel with practiced casualness, your demeanour betraying none of the turbulence of emotions within you, but then comes the dreadful realisation that rattles your composure as you look away from him. “God, I shouldn’t have said too much.” You mutter under your breath, but he catches onto your words quickly.

“No, honey, don’t be embarrassed with me.” Jay has no idea where the courage comes from, but his hand instinctively reaches out for your outstretched one across the table, holding it tenderly. “I promise you that there’s no judgement when you’re with me. I genuinely want to know more about you, be it your struggles or your hobbies.”

You search for any falsehood in his beautiful eyes, only to find nothing but stark sincerity that forms an emotional lump in your throat, feeling touched that this man, whom you’ve just met hours ago, is willing to genuinely listen to you, and he’s only supposed to be your sugar daddy, not a therapist whom you’re supposed to dump every trauma and problem on, but in this moment, his presence feels comforting in a way that a part of you has deeply yearned for.

“Like I said, there’s nothing interesting about me other than being the unsuccessful independent daughter who got sacked from her barista job.” This time, you don’t bother sugarcoating your words, and you feel less guarded as you continue while he holds your gaze firmly, as though he is silently assuring you that he’s listening with an open mind. “Not to forget that I’m way behind paying my bills. It’s my fault, anyway, since I told Sabrina that she could trust me in paying the utility bills and the rent. How foolish of me.”

Sabrina. That must be your best friend’s name. “Was that why you decided to sign up for this arrangement?” He asks gently, treading with his words carefully while his thumb brushes across your knuckles in delicate strokes, a gesture that sends little flutters to your heart.

“It's pathetic and desperate of me, I know. I should’ve at least tried securing a temporary job first before deciding to pursue this arrangement.” You mutter shamefully, your eyes crestfallen before a huff leaves your lips. “But to be fair, my best friend was the reason why I’m right here with you. She registered me on that app without my consent.”

“It’s not pathetic, honey, and I’m sure you’ve tried enough.” Jay reassures you while he silently thanks your best friend. He stops stroking your knuckles with his thumb and holds your hand firmly instead to draw your attention to his eyes that display emotions you can’t seem to decipher. “But do you regret it? Regret this?”

You haven’t exactly thought of that since most of the time, you were occupied with the annoying flutters in you as well as swooning over him. This time, you hold his hand, a faint smile touching your lips. “You haven’t shown me why I should regret it.”

“I promise you that you won’t regret this. You won’t regret me.” Jay vows with conviction, his eyes hardening with resoluteness that oddly subdues any lingering doubts in your head. He brings your hand to his lips before kissing your knuckle tenderly, his lips warm and soft. “I’ll take good care of you and treat you as you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve anything.” You manage to utter despite the butterflies in your tummy, but they dwindle as your insecurities resurface, prompting you to avoid his gaze as you continue to unravel without faltering in the way you speak. “It’s obvious that I’m a failure. I used to be an overachiever and excel throughout my academic years, but looking at my situation now, it proves that I’m nothing without academics.”

“That isn’t true, honey.” Jay counters with a frown, hating how you’re disparaging yourself. “It’s normal to feel lost, having no idea what you truly want to do after graduating from university. You’re not alone on this, so don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s only been six months since your graduation, right? Give yourself some time.”

You look at him with a sliver display of exasperation. “For how long should I give myself some time? I just—” You hold your tongue just when you feel the tremor in your throat before forcing your voice to remain steady. “I just don’t want to feel helpless and useless all the time. I’m tired of feeling guilty about being unemployed. It brings me shame, especially when my ex-peers are thriving in their stable careers and their lives.” You say bitterly. “I feel like I’m stuck in this loop where nothing is ever going to work out for me no matter how many times I try.”

“Not everyone’s journey is going to be the same, just like how everyone’s pace in life is different.” Jay feels inclined to give you words of wisdom, needing to uplift your disheartened spirit despite your collected demeanour. “Just because you’re unemployed doesn’t mean that you’re a failure. Life is not all about work, you know?”

You can’t help the scoff escaping your lips, smiling wryly. “Says the guy who has been working hard for years to get to where he is now.”

Jay chuckles at the irony, the sound rich and pleasant in your ears. “Fair enough, honey. But the point I’m trying to make is that you don’t have to constantly pressure yourself about getting employed. There is more to life than just work, and you’re still young to stress yourself out about this.”

“Well, the bills aren’t about to be paid by themselves and the current inflation in today’s capitalism is definitely wonderful.” You point out the obvious, sarcasm lacing your tone.

Jay dismisses your remark. “And you mentioned that you were working as a barista, right?” He asks for confirmation, and you nod your head, earning a small smile from him. “That’s an accomplishment too, because you put in efforts to make a living, so you shouldn’t belittle yourself.”

“But I got sacked.” You tell him dejectedly, only to feel his hand squeezing yours comfortingly.

“It’s not your fault that the management was shitty.” Jay says so vehemently. “Besides, it’s their loss for losing a meticulously dedicated employee like you.”

“How would you know that?” You frown, your lips naturally jutting into a pout that captures his attention briefly before his eyes return to yours. “For all you know, I could be the type of employee that often slacks during her shift.”

“I can easily tell just by your personality alone. Plus, my judgement is never wrong.” He smirks, and oddly, you feel assured by him. His eyes roam around your face before they soften. “Don’t be too hard on yourself anymore, honey. You have me to depend on now. Allow me to ease some of your burdens.”

“That’s the thing. I’m not used to depending on anyone.” You find it strange how you easily divulge the hardest yet obstinate part of yourself that you refuse to let anyone know, including your best friend. Heck, even a small part of you is still debating whether or not to cancel this transactional relationship that barely begins.

“Like I said, I’ll take good care of you, so don’t worry too much.” Jay reaffirms, his tone being a constant gentleness yet firm enough for you to note that he genuinely means every word he says. “Just let me spend my money and time on you like you deserve, doll.”

Your breath hitches when he brings your hand to his lips, but this time, kissing your palm tenderly while his kind eyes never leave yours. “I’m sorry for dumping almost everything on you on our first date. I never intended to make things depressing.” You say sorrowfully, your eyes crestfallen.

“Don’t apologise. Something told me that you needed someone to listen to you.” He presses his lips into your palm again, and you can feel his smile. “And I’m glad to be that someone.”

“I did.” You tell him honestly, feeling a weight on your shoulders being lifted while appreciation gleams in your eyes. “Thank you, Jay.”

“Don’t thank me yet, doll. Our date is far from over.”

And Jay proves you right, because after giving the waiter who served you earlier a big tip as well as paying the bill, he drives you to the high-end shopping mall, which is a twenty-minute drive, and where you eventually discover that it has tonnes of flagship stores of luxury brands.

You don’t even have a say when Jay drags you over to a store, to which you are familiar with the brand since you have always wanted to own a Van Cleef & Arpels necklace, but it costs more than your salary as a barista. Of course, you have expected that Jay surely intended to spend his money on you, as any sugar daddy would, but still, you are very much surprised by how he easily whips out his black card to pay for your jewellery that he personally picked for you — a vintage Alhambra pendant necklace and bracelet.

Just when you think Jay is done, he guides you to another designer brand store, his hand clasping yours, bringing warmth to you. You genuinely have no say in anything, as he seems very determined to get you anything, no matter the price. Though you feel incredibly grateful to him, you begin to feel the exhaustion of just trying on and changing to different designer clothes for the past thirty minutes while he often does an examination on you before either approving or disapproving the designers you wear.

You look at your reflection in the mirror as you are adorned in, hopefully, the last dress that he picked for you earlier. You calm your nerves as you step out of the fitting room because you can't actually handle the way his dark eyes roam around your figure with such intensity for much longer.

“Is this okay?” You ask awkwardly, standing in his view while he is quick to put away his phone, only for him to almost choke on his saliva at your stunning visual, how the dress accentuates your contours impeccably. You frown, noticing how flustered he looks compared to how he was earlier. “Jay?”

Instead of responding to you, Jay shifts his eyes to the staff that has been assisting the two of you. “I need another dress that is similar to this one and get it packed along with the other dresses.”

You splutter in disbelief, attempting to protest that there are already more than enough clothes he picked, but Jay intercepts as he insistently guides you back into the fitting room with both hands on your bare shoulders, his warmth triggering the heat that builds up within you.

You have no idea if it is a norm for sugar daddies to pamper their sugar babies with the interests and hobbies that have been indicated on their profiles, but Jay sure is committed to yours, because the next thing you know, he has brought you to the famous book store that is a ten-minute drive from the mall you were previously at, and possibly the biggest one you have ever stepped foot into.

No complaints from you, though, because the moment you are surrounded by towering multi-tiered shelves, the book lover inside of you is elated. You don’t own many books since you already have the Kindle device, as it is convenient for you to browse, purchase, and read the ebooks of your liking. Ebooks are generally cheaper than physical books anyway.

So you take this opportunity to search for the next book that is connected to your favourite series since the author made the announcement on Instagram that book two has been published in printed copies. You hope that this book store has them.

“You really do like reading.” Jay lets out a breathy chuckle, feeling amused by your apparent enthusiasm as your eyes are practically sparkling while you seem to be searching for a particular book across the shelves.

“I love reading, specifically romance novels.” You correct him, your keen eyes never leaving the middle row until you spot the familiar book cover, eliciting an excited gasp from you. “No way! It’s here!”

Jay smirks, finding you adorable because you look like you have just won a lottery, and it deeply pleases him to see the radiance in your countenance, devoid of any worries or doubts. From the corner of his eye, he spots a stack of empty baskets at the side and decides to grab one before giving it to you. “Here.”

You blink your eyes at him, your eyebrows slowly furrowing. “But I only need one book, which is this.”

But Jay is insistent, a trait that you have yet to get accustomed to. His eyes are firm with resolution, but there is a hint of softness. “Get yourselves some more, doll.”

Since Jay obviously wouldn’t tolerate your refusal any further, you grab the basket from him before venturing aisle after aisle while he trails behind you silently, not that you mind. You also find yourself babbling to him about the books that capture your interest and the ones that you are familiar with while he listens attentively and gives his input whenever appropriate.

“I kind of had a feeling that you’d be the type to be into romance novels.” Jay points out his observation after taking note of every synopsis of the book that you babbled to him and noticing a specific element that relates to his current predicament.

“It’s probably the reason why I’m a hopeless romantic. Real life romantic love can never be compared to the written love on pages I’ve read.” You shrug your shoulders, missing the way he gazes at you with a peculiar longing as you eye down the books of your choosing in the basket that feels a little weighty in your grasp. “Plus, I love reading about love, even if that kind of love only exists in fiction.”

“I can make the love you want happen.” Jay accidentally blurts out what has been on his mind but realises that it’s a mistake as you tense up before looking at him with wide eyes. Shit, he fucked up.

You blink your eyes at him, feeling taken aback by what you have just heard. “Pardon?”

“Uh, I mean, we could recreate any romantic scene in one of your favourite books if you want?” His rambles only make things worse for him, and for the first time, he looks completely flustered with his cheeks a faint hue of pink as he avoids your gaze. Before you can say anything, he grabs the basket from you in haste. “Forget anything I said.”

You are rendered speechless as you remain unmoving, your eyes never straying from his handsome figure while he makes his way to the checkout counter. Even from the back view, you can tell that he is still flustered. Your heart flutters again, and you can’t count how many times you have felt this odd sensation. But one thing you are certain of is that Jay being bashful is now your favourite sight to see.

After another round trip of shopping and desserts, Jay decides to send you back to the apartment since the time nearly strikes ten and the way your countenance seems a tad weary. He even insists on helping to carry every shopping bag into your apartment, but you refuse to let him do all the work, and since you are so obstinate, he allows you to carry the lighter bags.

“Your place looks homey, and it’s so you.” Jay remarks as he takes in his surroundings after placing the shopping bags on the coffee table, feeling an odd sense of tranquillity, the overall decor a polar opposite to his minimalist place. He meets your shy gaze and casts you a handsome smile that makes his dimples prominent on his cheeks. “I like it.”

“Since Sab now practically lives at her boyfriend’s, I thought that I should decorate the place to my liking.” You say with a sheepish smile before softening with a gratitude delicacy draping over your demeanour. “Thank you for buying me all of these. You didn’t have to, especially since we only met today.”

“Spoiling you is now part of my job, doll.” Jay drawls playfully, smirking when he sees you reciprocate with a playful eye roll.

“I mean it when I say I really appreciate your kindness and sweet gestures. Thank you, Jay.” You have no idea what overcomes the diffidence, but with one step towards him, you lean forward, tiptoeing just slightly to press your lips into his cheek and giving him a kiss of your gratitude, but your head spins as his strong cologne infiltrates your senses once more. He even smells as good as he looks.

Your lips linger on the soft texture of his skin before you pull away and look at him, only to feel your cheeks burning at the intensity of his gaze, leaving you to wonder if what you did pleased him or not. “So, I guess this is it.” You smile awkwardly.

“Don’t look so disappointed now, doll. You’re stuck with me, so you’ll be seeing my face more often.” Jay says, his tone holding a promise. “I’ll let you know our dates in advance, and I’ll surely fit you into my schedules.”

You give him a smile of assurance. “It’s okay. I know you’re a busy man, so you don’t have to do all that—” Your heartbeat goes erratic when he takes a step forward, closing the distance between your bodies.

His dark eyes are devoid of the familiar softness, only an unfamiliar intensity that seems to take your breath away. “You can’t stop a man from what he wants, doll.” His voice is low, a palpable husk of something igniting a different type of heat within you.

“And what do you want?” You ask breathlessly, holding his strong gaze that continues to melt you on the inside. Your eyes fall to his lips, and you feel tempted to close the gap just to feel what the texture of his lips feels like. Are they as soft as they look?

The tension is short-lived when Jay leans down and presses his lips into your cheek, but dangerously close to the corner of your lips that intensifies the flutters in your heart, giving you a chaste kiss that now burns in your memory. He slowly pulls away and casts you a small smile. “Have a good night's rest, honey. I’ll see you soon.”

As soon as Jay steps out of your apartment, you finally give in to your buckling knees, holding onto the armrest of the couch for support while you allow your mind to spiral into a different type of chaos. If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have already scream from what just happened.

You’ve been kissed before, particularly on the lips, but no kiss has ever affected you this much, and it’s only a damn kiss on the cheek from your sugar daddy.

Just when you recover from freaking out over the smallest thing, your phone chimes loudly in your purse. You take it out to check, and you nearly experience a heart attack when you read the familiar notification of your digibank and another from Jay. The amount is significantly higher than your previous salary, and no doubt it will sustain you more than enough for a month.

[ A payment of $3000 has been transferred to your account ]

JAY: Hope you received the transfer, doll. You deserve it.

Days eventually blend into weeks ever since the transactional relationship with your sugar daddy has been established, and everything has been going smoothly, including the fact that you managed to pay off your monthly utility bills and the rent that were haunting you.

Initially, you felt conflicted about this arrangement, how the fundamental core of your independence remained obstinate in going against accepting any form of help, but somehow, he easily managed to erode the fire within you with his benevolence and compassion that didn’t feel overbearing.

So in a way, you submitted to him, essentially peeling off a layer of your vulnerability. He also earned your trust that you now seek solace in him despite him being your sugar daddy, but that’s the thing. You know that you only regard him as your sugar daddy, so why do you feel as though the two of you are genuine friends with benefits instead, except that there is no actual explicit exchange?

It is truly confounding to you because the fleeting spark of desire in those lustrous brown eyes of his is not lost on you whenever he gazes at you, particularly the times when the apparel displays your contours or excessive skin, but he remains steadily courteous, which feels peculiar to you since men like him obviously have needs, especially older men, according to your best friend. Honestly, a part of you wouldn’t even mind if he wanted to go beyond this friendliness, considering that it has been so long since you had sex.

Still, you have no complaints about this as you feel content with your current dynamic with him that you often forget that he’s your actual sugar daddy, and for the first time compared to your past experiences with men, everything he does and the words he speaks feel genuine with no perverse intent — how he has never asked for any inappropriate pics from you or told you crude remarks, how he never crosses boundaries except holding hands and sweet cheek kisses, how he validates your feelings, and most especially how he actually pays attention to you and listens to you.

Perhaps it’s the very reason why you instantly thought of Jay when you were being summoned by the inevitable once-in-a-blue dinner with your mother and her family during the phone call, but it felt more like your mother emphatically demanded your attendance since you purposely missed the last dinner.

Hence, Jay is currently driving you to the dreadful destination that has been ruffling your peace of mind while you struggle to maintain your perfect composure, hoping that he wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary about you other than the unusual yet stark silence from you.

But little do you know that Jay has noticed your discomposure in the way he recognises your habits whenever something rattles you — how your twitchy fingers often fiddle together, your eyes refusing to meet his, your bottom lip tucking in between your teeth every so often, and your eyebrows softly knitting together. It upsets him how you are clearly in distress despite your poised demeanour, and he wants nothing more than to relieve you.

“I’m sorry for asking you to come with me. You probably had other matters to attend to.” You break the ice, your delicate yet apologetic tone eliciting a disapproving frown from him. He takes his eyes off the road briefly to look at you, and he nearly feels tempted to change the destination at the look in your pretty yet frail eyes, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t need you and your support, especially since my mom is expecting you.”

Jay would feel honoured that one of your parents wanted to meet him since, according to you, you told your mother that he’s your boyfriend instead of a sugar daddy, which was more than understandable, if it weren’t for the fact that you obviously don’t seem the slightest bit happy to see her. He already develops a distaste for your mother. He has a strong inkling that you often receive mistreatment from her.

“If you apologise another time, I might have to do something to your lips.” He playfully warns, his remark eliciting a familiar flutter within you at the possible implication, but you continue to look at him apologetically. “Please, doll, if anything, I’m more flattered that you need my support and the fact that I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” Though the words ‘fake boyfriend’ leave his lips so easily, they definitely leave a bitter taste on his tongue.

You briefly divert your attention to the road ahead, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers that tempt him to hold your hand. “My mother, she can be quite overbearing, always nitpicking and criticising everything I do.” You say dryly, deciding to preface a little of what he can most likely expect later. “Plus, it’s been a year since I last saw her, so she definitely has a lot more to say to my face.”

Jay raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “A year?”

“We don’t really have a good relationship.” You explain shortly, trying your best not to sound so brusque as you speak to him, but just the thought of your mother simply triggers you deeply. “Between my mother and father, I prefer my father’s company than hers even though he’s more absent compared to her. He has never cared much about me. They both don’t.” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m just the product of their failed marriage. It was doomed since the beginning.”

This time, Jay doesn’t bother holding back as he reaches for your hand while the other remains controlling the steering wheel. “I’m sorry to hear that, doll. You deserved so much better.” He looks at you again, frowning deeply as the worry is still evident in your countenance. “Hey, it’ll be okay because I’ll be right next to you throughout the dinner. Anything your mother may say will do nothing to change my feelings for you.” He reassures you softly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently.

You instantly feel at ease just by his familiar touch. You give him your gratitude with a smile as you squeeze his hand. “Thank you, Jay.”

“I’d prefer you to call me honey or baby.” He briefly glances at you with an effortless smirk, sending the flutters to your tummy. “You know, to convince your mother that I’m your actual boyfriend instead of your sugar daddy.”

Your smile falters slightly at the reminder. “Right. She would probably beat my ass if she knew the truth.”

He places a quick kiss on the back of your hand. “I’ll protect your ass, doll. Besides, your pretty ass is mine.”

Warmth weaves in your every vein while your cheeks go aflame at how casual those words left his lips. “Jay.” You attempt to chide him but fail miserably when he shoots you another smirk before giving a kiss on your palm.

Comfortable silence accompanies you throughout the rest of your ride, and not once did he ever let go of your hand, intermittently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb while you feel the incessant flutters at how he’s holding your hand with such reverence despite the firmness.

When Jay finally pulls up at the familiar driveway, your mood instantly sours, but with him by your side, you feel a little confident, knowing that you can get past this. You just have to endure the impending charade and tolerate whatever bullshit your mother and her family decide to provoke you with, but you definitely did not expect the type of bullshit where your stepsisters are quick to wear familiar masks that display their attraction towards your sugar daddy the moment you walk past the threshold.

“Y/N.” Your mother comes into view, and for the first time, you feel grateful to her as your stepsisters’ tactics in vying for Jay’s attention have come to a stop.

“Mother.” You greet her in return, albeit tightly, as the familiar tension begins to brew in the air that even Jay can sense.

Jay quickly scans your mother, taking note of the familiarity of her elegance and sophistication in the way she dresses and the ambiance she exudes, reminding him of the elite ladies he had come across throughout his experiences in the business industry. Still, he finds her unimpressive, especially in the way her steely eyes are staring down at you with faint disdain.

Your mother shifts her gaze to him, seeming to be assessing him. “And I presume you are the boyfriend?” Her tone is as sharp as a knife, while the smile gracing her lips looks deceptive.

“Yes, he is.” You step in to speak even before he could introduce himself out of courtesy despite his distaste towards your mother. He notices the undertone of protectiveness in your demeanour, to which he suppresses a smile.

Your mother scans him for another time. “Dinner is not ready yet, but you can make yourself at home.” She says kindly to him while he hides the frown behind his mask at how she seems to be deliberately ignoring you.

Your mother pivots on her heels at the same time you drag him by the hand as you make your way towards the living room, but of course, your stepsisters continue their tactics until you cast them a withering glare, nearly wanting to wrestle each of them for thirsting over your man. Thankfully, they relent after you pull a stunt that indicates no possible way for their flirtatious attempt.

“Let me guess, they’re fakes?” Jay murmurs to you, his low timbre sending an unfamiliar blistering heat to your body, enough to distract you from the fury within you after having to witness your three stepsisters being brazenly flirtatious in front of you earlier, not that Jay reciprocated. In fact, the sight was just as painful as it was laughable despite your annoyance because he clearly wasn’t the slightest bit interested.

“Yeah.” You mutter back, hoping that you don’t sound too breathless, but the nonexistent space between you and him is not helping with how your head is in a frenzy as you are seated on top of his lap sideways to deliberately show your stepsisters that he’s yours.

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as his hands roam around your waistline, as though he’s trying to memorise your curve while your arms around his neck loosen just slightly. You continue to speak, forcing your voice to come out strong. “They’re insufferable. Don’t be fooled by their acts. They’re probably coming up with another scheme to steal you away from me.”

Jay examines your face, and he recognises a fiery jealousy gleaming in your eye, eliciting an amused smirk from him. “Don’t worry, doll. I have my eyes on you only, and you’re the only woman worthy of my attention.” He hums, leaning forward to press his lips into your temple, an affection that leaves you breathless. “Which is why I chose you in the first place.”

“You know, you don’t have to start acting again.” You whisper softly as you look at him in the eyes daringly despite the warm flush in your cheeks. “My mother’s not even here.”

The familiar softness in his pretty eyes smoulders with an inscrutable emotion while his face is devoid of any mischief. “Who said I was acting?” His voice is a low husk, palpable with desire.

Your eyes accidentally fall to his lips, noticing how close the distance between your lips and his is. Just before you can cave into the familiar spark of temptation, your attention is being pulled away by your oldest stepsister, who is three years older than you, begrudgingly informing you to head over to the dining hall. A triumphant smirk curls on your lips when you recognise the jealousy in her eyes as you remain seated on his lap.

But you certainly don’t feel as triumphant as you were the moment you find yourself seated across from your mother, despite Jay’s presence being a constant support right next to you. You have yet to properly converse with your mother except for the earlier exchange of greetings, not that you intended to, as you can’t wait for this charade to end. You hope that your mother will not pull any usual captious stunt of hers, but knowing her, you can expect the worst.

You take a stealthy glance at your surroundings, hating how you are in the same space as the people you loathe. Though your mother and her family seem refinedly harmonious, you can see past this repulsive charade, knowing that it is only a matter of time before hell breaks loose, just like any other dinner you had with them in the past.

“So, Jay,” Your mother speaks up, causing you to tense up as you stop twirling the spaghetti with your fork rather absentmindedly. “Y/N informed me that you’re a CEO.”

A strategic opening that you recognise all too well, to which you nearly roll your eyes at. Of course, she would bring up careers first since she’s a businesswoman herself. You don’t bother to look up at her, but from the corner of your eyes, Jay seems casual, completely unaffected by this brewing tension only you feel.

“Yes, that’s right.” Jay confirms politely, though he doesn’t sound exactly amiable, but his demeanour is an unwavering neutrality, as if nothing and not even your mother’s possible strike could ever sway him.

“How long have you been dating my daughter?” Your mother asks, to which you begin to feel like she’s interrogating instead, your eye twitching in annoyance.

“For a year now.” Jay answers smoothly while you feel thankful for how he manages to think of an answer instantly, considering that you didn’t exactly discuss with him the thoroughly made-up story of your love lives.

“We met through a mutual friend.” You decide to add a lie, but your mother’s attention is solely fixated on him with a perverse interest that you recognise, causing your fist to clench under the table.

As you observe your mother, you see the way her icy gaze scrutinises him, as though something about him evokes suspicion within her. “And how old are you?”

“Mom.” You warn, not holding back this time, whatever it takes to defend your man against your birth giver. Your mother finally locks eyes with you, how they are devoid of affection or warmth that are only reserved to your stepsisters despite two of them not being your mother’s biological daughters.

“Thirty-four.” Jay barely feels offended about the question as he answers with ease, but he surely is displeased by how unnerved you are because of your mother.

Your mother directs her eyes at Jay, her lips frowning. “Aren’t you a little old for my daughter?”

You really don’t have the patience for this. You set down your fork on the marbled surface with a sharp clink of finality. “Mother, that’s enough.” Your tone is enough for the rest of her family to resort to silence as they direct their attention to the familiar spectacle of animosity between you and her.

But your mother completely disregards your entire existence as she continues to speak to him with a calculated casualness. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m merely concerned about why a man of class such as yourself decided to settle for less than he deserved. Shouldn’t you date women who are more in your league with competent qualities?”

Ah, there it is, the ultimate aim to obliterate your self-esteem by obliquely humiliating you in front of your pretend lover, because your mother clearly despises seeing you happy. The familiarity of it all brings a faintly bitter smile to your lips.

“Agreed.” Your stepsister, who is three years younger than you, Chloe, chimes; her cheery voice repulses you the same when you catch her shooting you a taunting look just briefly. “Quite frankly, you deserve way better than our sister.” You don’t have the opportunity to utter a remark at her when your mother swiftly intervenes.

“Let me introduce you to my second oldest. Mia. She’s the same age as Y/N, but she has achieved many things compared to her peers.” Your mother flagrantly gestures to Mia, who is clearly pleased to have Jay’s attention to her now as she casts him a coquettish smile. “She managed to land employment in a corporation shortly after her graduation, and she’s an accountant, which I’m sure you two would have a lot more in common with.”

You refuse to look away from your vile mother, your eyes smouldering with an intensity that parallels the torrential storms of emotions within you while you struggle to preserve your composure. The weight of your wrath overwhelms the familiar wounds festering in your heart.

“Our oldest daughter, who is twenty-five, is a—”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t pretty much care for all of those.” Jay interrupts sharply, his tone pulling your attention away from your mother. The intensity in your eyes dwindles as you observe his countenance carefully, how he is undeniably frustrated but remains poised.

“I fell in love with your daughter not because of her job title or what she has to offer. I fell in love with her because of how much of an amazing woman she actually is.” He declares firmly with an irrevocable resolution before turning his head to meet your slightly widened eyes while your heart is pounding hard against your ribcage. “She understands me better than anyone else, and we connect well with each other. I don’t think I could ever be in love with anyone else that is not her. Your daughter truly is unforgettable.”

Your eyes never leave his while your surroundings fade into insignificance that not even the sudden pin-drop silence perturbs you. How peculiar, you think. Jay speaks those words with such ease and sincerity that it feels natural, as though he had prepared this in advance in order to deceive your mother and her family with this facade of your relationship, but his beautiful brown eyes speak volumes, and he looks like he’s completely enamoured by you.

Your mother clears her throat sharply, prompting you to break eye contact first. “I admire your devotion and loyalty to my daughter. Such a rare quality in men nowadays.” Her cordial tone is just as artificial as the smile on her red lips. “But to give you a piece of advice based on my experience, love alone is not enough to keep your relationship stable.”

The prior anger returns tenfold as it feels blistering in your veins. Even Jay’s presence next to you no longer feels like a tether to temperate in from acting impulsively on your emotions. “I don’t recall us asking you for relationship advice. An unsolicited one, at that.” You say too calmly, a deadly one that bristles two of your stepsisters.

“As your mother, I ought to give young lovers such as yourselves some advice. I know better than you do.” Your mother snaps, and finally the mask is off, now revealing her ire towards you with glaring eyes that level with yours. “And while we’re at it, you shouldn’t be in a relationship where you have nothing to offer to your significant other. For goodness sake, you’re not financially stable! You’re not even responsible enough to be a proper adult with a stable job!”

Silence settles right after her outburst, but it intensifies the tension in the atmosphere that is palpable to your senses. You look at her with an unwavering resoluteness, refusing to give in to her satisfaction of successfully breaking you once more. A humourless chuckle leaves your lips, shattering the deadly silence. You have no idea where this odd humour came from, but this time, you laugh out as though you find the situation hilarious while your mother eyes you warily as if you’re insane.

“God, I knew you’d reveal your true colours sooner or later.” You snarl coldly after swiftly recovering yourself, taking them by complete surprise. “You did not invite me over just for dinner — you wanted to humiliate and criticise me as if I didn’t have any dignity, like you always do, and deliberately at that once you got to know that I’d be bringing my boyfriend along with me.”

You can feel his eyes on you at the strong emphasis, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him, not when he’s witnessing the raw, ugly truth of your relationship with your mother when he shouldn’t be, bringing you to shame.

Your mother’s glare is as penetrating as her hatred for you. “A sophisticated man like him should be informed what kind of a woman and a daughter you really are.”

“Definitely not your daughter, not anymore.” You retort, your body trembling with the onslaught of emotions that expel any rationality within you. You can even barely register the familiar warmth of Jay’s hand on yours as you intend to lash out with what you’ve buried for years. “You stopped being my mother the moment you decided to abandon me ten years ago by choosing your new family over me and father, and now you have the audacity to judge and criticise me in front of the love of my life?!”

You nearly scoff at the audacity of hurt in her eyes. “How could you say that to your own mother?!” She shouts angrily, and she harshly brushes off her husband’s attempt to calm her. “You were the one who chose to walk away from me! You rejected my calls and messages, so how dare you—”

The maelstrom of emotions within you propels you to rise abruptly, towering over your mother’s seething figure. “Can you even blame me?! You walked away first! So you don’t have the right to be upset when I was the one who constantly tried reaching out to you first when I needed you!” Amidst the sheer anger in your voice, there is a discernible crack that Jay recognises. The back of your eyes begins to burn familiarly, but your glaring wrath never strays from her. “But you prioritised your new family more than you ever did with me! You were barely a presence in my life even when I was a youngling! You didn’t even attend any of my graduations!"

“I’m glad I didn’t attend your university graduation months ago. It would’ve been a waste of my time because look at how you turned out to be! A useless woman who has no sense of her identity!” Your mother strikes down the part of you that you have always struggled with acceptance, causing you to falter from within.

She continues to lambast you with her familiar cruelty while you can feel the weight of devastation in your chest suffocating you. “You don’t even have a job to sustain yourself. And you have the gall to be in a relationship with a man who deserves more than what he settles for? You bring shame to your father and me! I refuse to be known as someone who shares the same blood as you.”

Still, your demeanour remains unyielding as you clench your jaw. “Then I guess we can come to an agreement that neither of us should continue whatever ties we had, not that it existed in the first place, considering you’ve been an absent mother since day one.” You tell her calmly with an icy finality. “Don’t worry about being embarrassed of me any longer, because I promise you that this is the last time I’ll ever be associated with you and the last time you’ll see my face. I’m better off without you, always have.”

There is a fleeting emotion in her eyes, and you can’t tell whether it’s regret or satisfaction, but you couldn’t care less as you grab your purse on your chair. “Y/N.” She calls for you, her tone indicating that she’s not done with you.

Without looking at her, you grab Jay’s hand while he is quick on his feet. You inhale deeply before forcing yourself to look at your birth giver right in the eyes with burning resentment. “Thanks for the dinner. The food's bland, by the way. Might want to hire a private chef since cooking is obviously not your specialty.”

You immediately depart from the dining hall with your pretend lover, even when she’s yelling furiously at you about your insolence and the strings of words about how you could never survive without her. You continue to walk away, not even realising that you’re gripping his hand so tight, but he doesn’t make any remark, and neither do you.

The silence prevails even after you have settled in the passenger seat, mastering avoidance as you refuse to look at the man next to you, because you know that it takes one look at his face for your resolve to crumble.

Jay feels like there is an intangible wall that prevents him from getting to you despite being in the same vicinity, how utterly helpless he is when you have clearly established your avoidance, but still, he needs to try. His grip on the steering wheel loosens just slightly as he looks at you. “Honey…"

You draw in a sharp inhalation as his mellow tone affects you just as easily. “Just drive, please.” You utter a soft plea while your throat hurts from the emotions that form into a painful lump.

Thankfully, Jay complies as he operates the functions that propel his vehicle to finally depart from the mansion that you won’t ever step foot into again, but your heightened senses detect the tension emanating from him, and even from the corner of your eye, his chiselled jaw looks taut just the same as his flinty countenance.

You shove down the bitterness at the presumption of him being frustrated at you, but it only seems to hurt your already wounded heart. You wonder what he thinks of you now after the relentless humiliation from your birth giver. You wonder if he’s reevaluating his judgement for choosing you.

You don’t even realise that you have been spiralling in the tumult of your emotions until the vehicle abruptly comes to a stop, prompting your focus on the view ahead. “Where have you brought me?” You ask him with a confused frown.

“Central Park. I figured that you needed some air.” Jay says lightly, his face unreadable as he looks at you, but a small smile touches his lips. “Come on.”

The next thing you know, you are walking hand-in-hand with Jay along the pavement at the park in comfortable silence while enjoying the evening breeze. Though the storms in your head remain unabating, you feel an odd sense of peace after the realisation that you managed to bravely sever any ties with your birth giver, which was long overdue.

You take a glance at him, your wounded heart bearing a flutter that soothes the ache faintly. But then comes the immense guilt that aggravates your emotions. “Thank you, Jay.” Your voice sounds fragile, unlike anything he’s ever heard. “And I’m sorry.”

Jay frowns, hating how unapologetically you look as your eyes are filled with immense guilt. “What are you sorry for?”

“You shouldn’t have witnessed that.” You tell him honestly, halting your steps as you force yourself to let go of his hand, berating yourself for how undeserving you are of his warmth. You don’t look at him even as you continue to deliver your heartfelt apology, but your breathing goes rapidly. “I’m really sorry that you had to deal with my mother, and I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. It was improper of me—”

“Calm down, honey.” He places his hands on your shoulders, his tone being carefully measured but never losing its mellowness. His firm eyes search for yours, noticing how shaky your pupils are. “You have nothing to apologise for. You were upset and angry, rightfully so. Your own mother shouldn’t have humiliated you in the first place, let alone in front of a guest. It was improper of her.”

Jay knows it all too well, as he too had to face such humiliation from his father back when he was a fresh graduate, and if he’s being honest, he felt slightly triggered by the earlier spectacle, as it reminded him of the similar situation he once was in. Personally, you handled it far better than he did, how you never seemed to lose your composure even when he felt your hand trembling earlier, but your demeanour was admirably unyielding.

The stark sincerity emanating from him compels you to divulge more truths that you still resent. “She humiliated me in front of my ex-colleagues too when I was still working as a barista.” You say dejectedly while you struggle to fight against the emotions that threaten to leak in a torrent. “She didn’t approve of it and said that it's a job for uneducated drop-off college students.”

Jay scoffs in disbelief, anger burning in his chest because there is one thing that he absolutely despises, and it is the condescending people when it comes to a person’s occupation that they undervalue its importance simply because it is not up to their standards, such as your mother.

“That’s ridiculous. Being a barista is just like any other job. You were making an honest living.” He says harshly, shocking you at the display of ire that you had never once seen, but you know that it is not directed to you.

You know that you should stop from going further, but for the first time, you feel seen by someone in a way that you have longed for. “I even told her over the last phone call that I went for multiple interviews for jobs that were equivalent to my degree, but she shut me down, berating me for not being good enough, for not being worthy in anyone’s eyes, not even hers.” You release a shaky breath as you look down, blinking away the tears from blurring your vision. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m the problem because I didn’t try hard enough.”

Jay grabs you by the chin firmly before lifting your head up, his eyes hardened with resolve that feels oddly comforting to you. “Don’t let your mother’s words get to you, or even the judgement of others. They have no idea how amazing you truly are and how you are more than what they choose to see.” He speaks with such confidence that he almost fooled you into believing that you are enough, but the soft plea in his tone strikes a chord in you. “So please, don’t ever think or speak lowly of yourself.”

You don’t respond, knowing that you will return to the same cycle, but he is not having any of that as he cups your cheeks, forcing your eyes to maintain eye contact with him. “I need you to promise me, honey.” How peculiar, you think, to see such desperation that lies behind the devastation in his beautiful brown eyes, as though he is beseeching you not to lose yourself in the familiar spiral. “Promise me that you won’t ever discredit and belittle yourself anymore.”

“I promise.” You state emphatically, needing to reassure him as you have come to loathe how he seems to be hurting on your behalf. How peculiar, you think, as you are able to read through him when he’s usually enigmatic despite his gentleness and unexpected mischief.

Jay sighs softly before leaning down to give you a lingering kiss on the forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the warmth of his lips on your skin, but it is odd how it takes just a kiss on the forehead for the dam to break.

“I hate her.” You whisper, your voice fragile as it breaks in between while you struggle to restrain the whirlwind of emotions within you. You latch your fingers around his wrist, needing him to hold you still. “I hate her so much.”

Jay slowly pulls away from your forehead to look at you, his eyes softening as he recognises the emotions that you silently battle behind the windows of your beautiful eyes.

“Your feelings are valid, baby.” Jay says gently, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. “You know, you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to depend on someone else for once. It’s okay to cry too.”

Despite the weeks of pampering you with his time and wealth, Jay notices one trait of you that remains unbending, even after his generous assurance, and that is how you often refuse to accept anything from him other than money, since your relationship is still an official transaction, even though it would end up futile for you as he is just as obstinate as you. You remind him of himself back when he had nothing except to involuntarily depend on his best friend. It is truly a bittersweet feeling. Sometimes, he sees himself in you, as though you’re his twin flame despite the differences in your personalities.

A part of you still refuses to showcase your sheer vulnerability, how it remains guarded despite him having already earned your trust, but when you gaze deeply into his warm, kind eyes, the back of your eyes sting unbearably that they begin to accumulate rapidly with the tears you have been fighting off.

“I’m not useless.” You tell him brokenly, a tear rolling down your cheek that he gently wipes away with his thumb.

Jay adorns a small smile that reflects his warm kindness, which only seems to break you apart from within. “I know you’re not, doll. You never were.” His tone is so gentle and so soothing, but it easily devastates the surge of emotions that have been vying to dominate your teetering composure.

“I tried.” You plead truthfully as the memories of those hardships you have gone through play in your mind, but your voice continuously cracks the same way the last of your resolve crumbles. An accidental sob escapes you. “I tried my best. I really did.”

It hurts his heart to see you being so broken and defeated when you usually look indestructible, as if no one can ever shatter your confidence despite your shyness occurring around him. “Come here, honey.”

As soon as Jay embraces you in his arms, you allow yourself to crumble as rivulets of tears descend on you, your arms latching around his torso as you eventually fall weak against him. You hold onto him like he’s your lifeline, fearing that he too would abandon you like your biological parents did.

Little do you know that his heart only seems to break over and over at the sounds of your heartbreaking cries, as though you had been harbouring this for years, prompting him to tighten his arms around your trembling body in an attempt to ground you to the moment, and that he’s here — he’ll always be here when you’re at your weakest point.

Nothing coherent is on your mind, only a torrential need to let out the tears you have been holding back for so long, your body racking with the onslaught of devastation. You can’t even remember when was the last time you ever cried, as you have only ever depended on the numbness that overwhelmed your senses to get you through the difficult periods in your life, because you knew that crying wouldn’t change a single thing.

“My efforts will never be enough for her! No matter what I do, it will never be enough!” You sob loudly, years of pain and resentment consuming every inch of you with such intensity that you have never felt before while your heart clenches painfully. You feel the dampness in the material of his top due to your tears, but you can’t seem to pull away from him as you desperately seek his warmth, needing to ground yourself. “I will never be enough for anyone.”

Something snaps inside of him that prompts him to pull you away from his chest, now cradling your beautiful tear-stricken face. “I promise you that you are enough. You are more than enough.” He punctuates each word with fierce conviction that imprints on your mind, the same way he looks at you as though you are worthy in his eyes. “Your worth is not determined by your achievements, your employment status, or anything that is measurable. It’s who you really are on the inside that determines your self-worth.”

“Am I really enough?” You ask shakily, your sobs dwindling while your breath stutters from the exertion, your fingers curl into fists as they rest on his solid chest. Your lips quiver as you muster the courage to speak the words that sit heavily on your tongue. “Am I even enough for you?”

Jay doesn’t lift a smile on his lips, but his features soften differently, particularly his warm brown eyes that are staring at you with a familiar longing. The gesture of his thumb on your tear-stained cheek in affectionate strokes sends a flutter to your wounded heart. “You always have been, honey. I wish you could see how I truly see you.”

With every affectionate stroke on your cheek, it seems to mend on each wound your heart bears for years, albeit you know that it will take an indeterminate period to fully heal your withered soul with fragmented pieces of your morale. Still, you yearn for his touch deeply as you lean your cheek into his palm, feeling a strange sense of security emanating from him and how everything just seems to pale in comparison when you’re with him.

“Tell me that you see me.” and not just as your sugar baby, but the words vehemently refuse to leave your lips.

Jay gazes into your misty eyes deeply before a smile peculiarly knowing graces his lips. “I see you, honey. Always have.” He says sincerely before giving your forehead a kiss. “You are a remarkable woman who I know has ambitions of her own, and I’m a lucky man to have a woman like you in my arms right now.”

Your cheeks flush warmly at how easily he speaks such flattering words so easily that leave a profound impact on you each time. “You know, you can stop acting now.” You mutter, a familiar diffidence cloaking your once-fragile figure. “You don’t have to go so far to—"

Your breath hitches in your throat as he closes the distance between your faces, his eyes darkening with an unveiled want that feels borderline dangerous. “I told you earlier, didn’t I? I was never acting.” His voice drops to an octave that resonates deep in your core, and his eyes flicker down to your slightly parted lips. “And I’m not acting on what I’m about to do next either.”

With that, his lips descend on yours in a delicate kiss that sends sparks through your body, his lips fitting with yours perfectly while his hands that once were cupping your cheeks descend to your waistline, a gentle exploration that flutters your heart. He kisses you like how you imagined your first kiss with him to be — tender with a hint of firm urgency as though he’s been yearning for your lips.

The texture of your lips feels addictingly soft and tastes like cherry, a flavour that has become his favourite. He pours in every emotion he has been harbouring for weeks into the kiss, bordering on such desperation. You drape your arms around his neck as you kiss him back with equal fervour that propels him to deepen the kiss, lips occasionally parted as though you need air, but you need him more than ever; desperation is evident in each caress of your lips on his.

His tongue drags across the seam of your lower lip, compelling you to part your lips open for him to claim every inch of you, but when your tongue tenderly meets his, his head goes into a frenzy at the wet sensation, but he doesn’t want to go far, and so he slowly retracts his tongue before kissing you instead with an intense passion of yearning, hoping that you can feel every ounce of it.

You can feel your lungs burning from the fervent exchange of kisses before forcing yourself to pull away from the passionate lip lock. “Jay.” You utter his name breathlessly as you look at him with hooded eyelids, but the desire in your eyes is a reflection of his, and yet neither of you dares to breach that unspoken boundary.

“I was right.” His husky chuckles send butterflies to your tummy. He leans his forehead against yours, lips widening into a smile that showcases his dimples that you love while his grip on your waist feels like he has no intention to let you go. “Your lips are soft.”

Your fingers absentmindedly stroke his jawline that feels just as strong as he is. “You thought of my lips?” You ask softly, finding yourself lifting a shy smile that he’s head over heels for since day one.

Jay pulls you closer until your body is pressed into his. “All the damn time, honey, you have no idea.” He whispers before closing the distance between your lips once more, sealing you into a kiss that confirms these complicated emotions swirling within you.

Your lips still tingle from the dreamy sensation of his lips while your mind is often a constant playback of the passionate exchange of kisses that happened last week, but you want more; you need more. You simply can’t get enough of his kisses, of him, and above all, you want him so bad that it hurts.

Even just the thought of him is enough to awaken the butterflies in your tummy, a newfound sensation ever since the clarity dawned on you.

“I think I’ve caught feelings for Jay.” You finally speak up, shattering the rare calming quietude in the living room as you are sprawled across the fluffy rug, staring into the white-painted ceiling.

Sabrina, who has been lounging on the couch right next to you, leans her body forward to peer down at you, her face contorting into a confusion despite her eyes glinting with curiosity. “Who?”

Classic Sabrina. Of course, she had forgotten who Jay was even after she was responsible for accepting his request. “My sugar daddy.” You tell her in an obvious deadpan, and recognition instantly glimmers in her blue eyes.

Sabrina heaves a sigh and places her phone down before adjusting to a more comfortable position to look at you better. “Girl, most sugar babies would usually catch feelings for their sugar daddies after the first few meetings.” She says matter-of-factly. “Some even go straight down to business in the bedroom with their sugar daddies on their first day, so it’s quite surprising that you haven’t pounced on yours yet.”

“Sab! Be serious! This is a very big deal for me!” You exclaim emphatically as you change into a sitting position to face her entirely. “I like him— no wait, I really, really like him.” There is no way that you love him, but you know for sure that your feelings towards him are anything but platonic.

Sabrina studies you carefully, noticing the way your eyes gleam with an emotion so unfamiliar, especially after knowing you for years. “Can’t blame you. He’s super hot.”

You roll your eyes at her ever-unserious remark before sighing in exasperation. “It’s not just because he’s hot and attractive. He gets me, like really gets me, and I get him too.” As you divulge to your best friend, you find yourself smiling at the memories of him, recalling. “He always seems to know what to say and what I want to hear. He understands me better than anyone else, no offence.”

You worry that you might offend your best friend, but she erupts into chuckles, her face devoid of any unpleasantness. “Girl, please. You know that it would take a lot more than that to hurt my feelings.” She rolls her eyes playfully before looking at you with keen interest. “So tell me more about the man who has finally caught my girl’s heart.”

You beam at her, feeling much appreciation that she is willing to listen to you. “People often mistake him as someone who is arrogant and mean. Probably because they view him as the cold, stereotypical CEO, and his features are sharp and defined enough to intimidate them, but he is not any of those. In fact, he’s soft-spoken and a true gentleman at heart.” You list down the qualities and traits about him that you have grown to love, enthusiastically. “He’s incredibly thoughtful and kind too. I love how he always sees the beauty in everything despite their flaws, how he always seems to know what I want to hear even though I don’t tell him. He just...he just gets me!”

You sigh dreamily with your lips curled upwards. “I’ve never met a man so perfect, so dreamy, like him before.” As soon as you finish, you finally notice how unusually quiet your best friend has gone, prompting you to focus on her, who is staring at you like you’re an alien. A frown touches your lips. “What?”

“Oh, girl…You’re down bad, and I mean like really down bad for him.” She remarks, enunciating each word with strong emphasis while amusement dances in her eye. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard you compliment a guy in detail, because you’d usually say shit about men in general.”

Sabrina has a point, as those experiences you had with men in the past were generally unpleasant. “He’s so different from the men I’ve come across.” You say truthfully, smiling again at the thought of him, but then comes the realisation of your next move. “So what do I do now?”

Sabrina gives you an obvious expectant look. “Just tell him that you like him.”

You huff lightly. “I know that, but like, I’ve been—” You pause, biting down your lower lip in embarrassment as you look down at your hands. “I’ve been having thoughts about him lately.”

Sabrina narrows her eyes at you in suspicion, and considering she's been your best friend for years, it doesn’t take too long for her to put the pieces together, gasping dramatically. “You nasty slut! Was that why you wanted to borrow my vibrator?!” She exclaims with a gleeful smile. “You’ve been fantasising about the man of your dreams!”

You groan loudly and bury your face in your palms. “Gosh, this is ridiculous.” You mutter dryly, but she isn’t wrong. You have been fantasising about Jay hard, and you don’t think that you have ever fantasised about anyone like that, and that itself terrifies you because of how much of an impact he has made ever since he entered your life.

“So when will you get dicked down by your sugar daddy?” Sabrina asks casually right after she has calmed down from the weird excitement about the embarrassing discovery of you.

The reality hits you, and there go the thoughts that dim the hope in you. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he would want that. What if he doesn’t want me like that?” You ramble dejectedly, your eyebrows knitting together worriedly. “I mean, to be fair, we did kiss—“

“You did?! And I wasn’t informed?!” She interrupts with a disbelieving gasp, and before you can retort, she throws a pillow at you, which you catch swiftly, before she goes moaning, “Bitch, you know I love juicy details!”

“It wasn’t a big deal. It happened in a spur of a moment, I guess.” You state unsurely as the memory plays on your mind. You sigh annoyedly, hating how your emotions are going familiarly haywire again. “The point is, I want him so bad, but I can’t just tell him straight in the face that I want him to fuck me.”

Oh, you really do, particularly his cock that you have been craving for, and you have no doubt that he would stuff you full as you had noticed the size of his bulge that pressed against his pants. It’s not only pure fucking that you crave — his dark eyes penetrating into your teary ones as you moan pleasurably at his sheer girth, his strong, sweaty body pressing into yours as he whispers sweet yet filthy things into your ears, his lips claiming yours, his fingers interlacing with yours while he delivers slow yet shallow thrusts into your needy cunt.

You have a strong inkling that when he fucks, he does not only fuck, but every movement, every thrust, every kiss, and everything he does will be imprinted on your mind. Just the thought of it has your cunt clenching physically and your clit throbbing again.

“I have an idea.” Sabrina thankfully manages to distract you before you can spiral into your salacious fantasies again.

You raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her, feeling intrigued despite the mischief curling on her pink lips. “I’m listening.”

“What if you make him jealous?” She suggests, earning a confused stare from you. She huffs impatiently. “You know, flirting with other guys in his presence or just doing something in front of him that might trigger his jealousy.”

“How does making him jealous have any correlation to him wanting to have sex with me?” You ask her incredulously. “If anything, him seeing me flirt with other guys would definitely turn him off.” The last thing you need is to do something that turns him off.

“Isn’t it obvious? Jealousy always leads to sex; it happens. Well, at least to me.” She shrugs her shoulders, eliciting a sigh from you at her predictable confession. She startles you when she moves off the couch to sit in front of you, grabbing your hands keenly. “Girl, trust me, it’ll work! Especially since yours just so happens to be a sugar daddy, and they tend to be possessive over their sugar babies.”

Okay, that marginally entices you. You look at her in the eyes, the determination in them giving you a sense of confidence. “Fine. Maybe I’ll do it on this business event that Jay invited me to be his plus one.” You concede with a soft sigh.

Apparently, Jay informed you about a gala he was required to attend during last night’s video call — he prefers video calls instead of normal phone calls most of the time since he gets to see your face — and he invited you to go with him since he needed a plus one. Initially, you hesitated since you would be in the presence of highly sophisticated businessmen and businesswomen, people of class, but the look in Jay’s eyes easily won you over.

A frown touches your lips. “But I have no idea how to make him jealous when the gala will be filled with businessmen, and there is no way I could ever dare to go up to one of them and flirt, especially since I’m obviously not in their league.” You point out the realistic part of this ridiculous plan.

Sabrina gives you a deadpan look, as though you had said something that’s offensive. “I don’t know if you realise this yet, but you’re actually a hot babe. With that face and body of yours, you can easily pass off as one of those elite ladies. I’m not even lying!” Her tone is a rare sincerity that you surprisingly believe in, but still, you’d probably be dull compared to the refined ladies of class.

“Well, let’s hope jealousy will work.” You sure hope it does because Jay is a highly secure man, so it would be unlikely to evoke any jealous within him.

When the gala has finally beckoned, you find yourself having qualms about delving into an unacquainted sphere that is laden with pursuits of the high society and definitely not the type of crowd you prefer to be in, as you know that there will be those supercilious individuals similar to your mother.

Your four-inch stiletto heels make a rhythmic yet expensive click, which echoes through the palatial hallway as you saunter across the marble floor to get to the dreadful destination just ahead of you, where the harmony of soft jazz and cadence of entertainment is a soft resonance that emits from behind the doors of the grand ballroom.

Your arm is looped around his sturdy bicep that feels comfortingly dependable, comparable to a safe haven, and so you surrender to the overwhelming sensation of your erratic nerves, allowing your composure to lose its tenacity and prompting him to ease his pace as he feels every tension emanating from you.

A frown touches his lips as he observes your faintly distressed countenance, ambivalence swirling in your beautiful irises. “You okay?” He asks softly, drawing your attention to his warm brown eyes that showcase his concern. “I can feel you trembling, honey.”

You didn’t even realise that your arm around him had been trembling until he pointed it out. “Nervous, actually.” You tell him honestly, releasing a shaky breath as your shoulders go limp in dejection. “I just know that I’ll feel so out of place.”

For the first time ever since he met you, Jay feels like an inconsiderate fool for neglecting your comfort, and it is understandable why you feel that way. The thought of finally going to the customary gala with someone whose company he genuinely enjoys, aka you, overlooked the fact that you might feel uncomfortable being in the presence of imposing, pompous elites he knows all too well.

His eyes roam around your beautiful face a little longer, whereas you avoid meeting his gaze, feeling unsettled as you are evidently brittle by the inevitable. He is tempted to bring you out to an extravagant date that you deserve instead, but he can’t ditch the gala that is hosted by one of his trustworthy allies.

“If anyone comes up to you and asks you who you are, just tell them that you’re my fiancée.” Jay says firmly, his tone marked with a finality that evokes conflicting emotions within you, one of which involves butterflies incessantly fluttering in your already-churning stomach.

Ah, so it’s no wonder why he gave you a gorgeous platinum Tiffany & Co. ring that has been sitting perfectly on your ring finger, matching with his, earlier when he fetched you at the apartment. You were genuinely surprised when he told you that the rings were brand new.

“But isn’t that kind of risky?” You ask with a frown, your words treading on reservation as rationality outweighs the delightful idea of being known as his fiancée. “Based on my research, your popularity in the business industry is equivalent to Beyoncé's. So to know about your sudden engagement would shock people. What if they start to speculate things about us? Your reputation would be tainted as a result.”

Jay knows that he’s supposed to be a little less worried about the possibility of you getting hurt because of his impulsive decision, but he continues to stare at you with a glinting fascination. “You did research about me?” He asks teasingly with an irresistible smirk on his lips.

Truth be told, it was a last-minute homework assignment that you decided to do last night since you couldn’t fall asleep, but it was thorough research that honestly helped you a lot in gaining some knowledge about the businessman whom you’re having strong feelings for, and to say the least, you were both impressed and daunted upon your discovery.

You look at him, feeling a sense of intimidation and a dangerous heat that teasingly unfurls in your core despite the familiar warmth in the depth of his eyes and his softened countenance. It baffles yet awes you that this is the same man who has had a hand in rightfully destroying the empire of his nemeses and at the same time amassing substantial achievements. He’s also renowned to be the most ruthless in the world full of business tycoons. But right now, he looks nowhere near capable of causing harm with how mellowed his features are as he gazes at you.

“Of course, I had to. You’re like a really big deal in the business industry.” You defend yourself, your cheeks flushing warmly at his avid attention as though you are something worthy. “Plus, I didn’t want to embarrass you in any way.”

The familiar shyness in your countenance strongly tempts him to kiss you, his lips tingling at the memory of your lips that happened last week. “Consider me flattered, doll. But you could never embarrass me.” He says sincerely, his once-softened eyes now hardening with resolution. “Don’t worry about any of that. Just stick to being my fiancée.”

“If you say so.” You mumble, and with a few steps forward, the hotel staff greets you before opening the door to smooth your way in. Once you enter, you are greeted by the resplendent lights illuminating the grand ballroom, but there is barely enough time for you to scan your surroundings when eyes are immediately on the two of you the moment you enter.

You lower your gaze. You can already hear the whispers and feel the judgement in their eyes that make your skin crawl with dread. Have they finally found out that you’re not one of their people?

“They’re looking at us.” You mutter to him, your arm tensing around his arm as you move closer to him for security.

“Can’t really blame them. Have you seen yourself?” His voice is low, but enough for you to catch onto every word. When you meet his eyes, they are roaming every inch of you with appreciation, but his low voice has a familiar husk of desire as he speaks, “You look truly exquisite, doll.”

Jay feels a sense of pride as you are adorned in the dress that he bought for you two days ago. The royal blue is a reflection of elegance and complements the satiny material, essentially enhancing your allure that he has always found irresistible. The dress itself hugs your curves perfectly, and the daring slit reveals the right amount of your gorgeous leg. The volume of makeup accentuates your already-beautiful features immaculately. A familiar heat unfurls within him as his eyes linger on the Van Cleef necklace and earrings he bought for you that are displayed proudly on you.

You look absolutely ethereal, straight out of his fantasy, and it doesn’t help that the feelings he harbours for you intensify when you smile shyly at him, a side of you only he can evoke. “Thank you.” You utter softly, forgetting about the background as you scan every inch of his handsomeness. “You look so handsome.”

Oh, he really does, and it takes every strength in you to refrain from pouncing on him in front of these dignified elites. His tailored black suit fits him impeccably, exuding understated luxury and enhancing his strong allure that brings a wave of intimidation to the other elites while his presence alone is capable of dominating this grand ballroom. His jet-black hair has been styled in a way that reveals a segment of his chiselled forehead, framing his features flawlessly without minimising the commanding presence that exudes from his striking face alone, which is the reason why every pair of eyes can’t help but to gravitate to him.

You notice how professionally guarded his dark eyes look, as though the businessman side of him has surfaced, but there is an unmistakable softness that is reserved for you as long as you are in his line of sight. “Oh? Do I now?” He smirks, his tone teasing as he leans closer to you, his Dior Sauvage infiltrating your senses deliciously.

You hum, refusing to back down despite your stomach being a whole damn zoo as he unrelentingly inches his face closer to yours that you don’t even notice him swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist. “You were always handsome.” You say without missing a beat, even when you’re melting into a puddle from within at the intensity of his handsome gaze.

“Tell me more, doll. I love hearing compliments from you.” He murmurs as he bumps his nose playfully yet affectionately into yours, feeling more eyes on them and hearing some faint gasps at the rare display of affection from him that they have never seen throughout the years he’s been attending such events with his previous chosen plus ones.

Your eyes fall to his lips, and you know that it only takes you just one swift movement to connect your lips with his, but a movement of an unfamiliar figure catches your eye that staves off your temptation. “Unfortunately, you’re about to have a taste of your popularity.” You mutter to him before stifling a laugh at the confusion in his face.

Before Jay can open his mouth, a manly voice eagerly calls for him from behind. “Mr. Park!”

“Fuck.” His voice is an attractive low husk as he curses under his breath, and as you listen closely, you can discern a faint growl of dissatisfaction in his throat that unfurls the heat in your core. Ever since meeting him, you realise that he rarely utters such profanities, but when he does, your core throbs with the incessant heat.

“Don’t curse. It isn’t suitable for a refined man like you.” You admonish him playfully, your lips stretching into a grin as you are very much amused by his reaction.

Jay scoffs lowly, his lips curling into an attractive smirk again while mischief gleams in his eyes. “Cheeky one, aren’t you, doll?”

Your eyes widen at the sensation of his fingers digging into your flesh, hard and quick but enough for you to grasp what just happened, eliciting a gasp from you. “You did not just squeeze my a—“ Before you can finish your sentence, his warmth leaves you as he proceeds to entertain a businessman.

Your cheeks flare at his unexpected action, and you have no idea whether it’s your face or ass cheeks that are flaring, but you know for a fact that you need a drink soon. The great part about being his plus one to this lavish gala is getting free exquisite drinks and food, but you decide to wait for him since you feel awkward going about on your own.

But soon enough, you realise that nothing feels more awkward than standing aside while watching your pretend fiancé getting pulled by socialite after socialite that feels maddeningly perpetual. You can see the efforts of Jay trying to extricate himself from every engagement wane, leaving you no choice but to attend to your rumbling stomach as you head over to the food section.

You know that you are too exasperated to feel self-conscious of the undesirable attention from those in your vicinity. It seems that you have underestimated Jay’s popularity among these socialites despite his daunting reputation.

You would have felt proud of him for all the deserving compliments you heard from those socialites if it weren’t for the fact that some women have taken advantage of their close proximity with him to blatantly touch or even grip his bicep, even after he politely declined them in the most subtle yet annoying way. Is it bad that you need him to straightforwardly tell them off or even shove one of them away from him?

With your fingers wrapped around the stem, you raise the glass to your lips and take more sips of the exquisite champagne that fails to quell your brewing ire, your sharp eyes narrowing at Jay, who is surrounded by more businesswomen, as it seems, and they look to be around his age, but highly sophisticated, as even you can discern their expensive aura from afar. As much as you hate to admit it, each of those women does look compatible with Jay. Plus, they’re far more successful than you.

Still, your ridiculous jealousy nearly goes rampant, overshadowing the insecurity within you, when you observe one of them gripping his bicep oddly comfortably with familiarity. The worst part is he doesn’t seem to be bothered as he continues to converse with an unfamiliar man in a fine tuxedo.

Too absorbed in the tempest of your emotions, you fail to realise the person next to you, who has been observing you with amusement. “I would hate for you to ruin your gorgeous dress, unless you intend to do so by gripping that delicate glass tightly till it breaks?”

His thick yet attractive Australian accent captivates your attention so quickly that you momentarily forget why you’re practically seething. Your eyes lock with the unknown man’s that gleam with recognition and delight, and yet you don’t feel uncomfortable by his abrupt presence, just a tad wary.

“I didn’t realise it.” You utter slowly as you find yourself checking him out without the intention to. You can’t help it, not when his face is an enchantment that evokes both jealousy and admiration within you, because if being both pretty and handsome were a person, it would definitely be him.

His face definitely captivates one’s interest at first glance. His facial features are strongly chiselled, and yet every line and shape is smoothly well-proportioned. He was definitely sculpted by divine hands, because damn, his handsome beauty is something that naturally etches into one’s memory, unforgettable. You also notice how his outfit seems to stand out from the other socialites, a blend of simplicity and subtle elegance.

When your eyes return to his face, he adorns a lopsided grin on his Cupid-bow lips, and it has your head filled with doubts whether or not he is indeed a businessman since he doesn’t seem like one. Honestly, he looks like the type to revel in a lavish lifestyle without worrying about a single thing. “Of course, you didn’t. You were too occupied shooting daggers with your eyes at my best friend.”

You feel a sense of recognition upon his declaration, as Jay had spoken about his mysterious best friend a few times. “Jay’s your best friend?”

The grin on his lips feels so infectious that you fight off the urge to lift a smile of your own. “The only trustworthy best friend, even if he claims me to be a pain in his ass.” He chuckles breathily before proceeding to introduce himself. “I’m Sim Jaeyun, but you can call me Jake.”

This time, you crack a smile. “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m—“

“I already know who you are.” His words elicit a genuine look of surprise from you.

“You do?” You ask in disbelief, feeling a little flattered that this fine gentleman recognises you.

Jake nods his head, tucking his hands into the pocket of his Prada jacket. “Sure did. I was the one who convinced him to choose you and that you’re the right one for him.” He divulges so casually, but his tone carries a careful tread as though he doesn’t intend for anyone to catch onto his words. “Not that he needed much convincing because my guy had literal heart eyes when he came across your profile.”

“Oh.” So he knows that you’re his best friend’s sugar baby and not the fiancée, but you have a gut feeling that Jake poses no threat to you.

Jake observes the way you take another glance at his best friend, smirking as he recognises the jealousy flattening the smile on your lips. “I wouldn’t be too worried if I were you.” He says in a drawl, drawing your attention back to him. “My best friend is practically head over heels for you.”

You scoff lightly as you place your half-empty glass on the standing table next to you. “I’m not worried. We’re only faking this whole fiancée thing since he insisted. Besides, I’m just his sugar baby. Nothing more.” You retort, and yet your voice holds a bitter edge that you can hear.

Jake makes a disapproving tut that has you narrowing your eyes at. “He’d be sad and disappointed to hear that.”

Your eyebrows furrow, unconvinced by his statement because it doesn’t change the fact that you are Jay’s sugar baby. “Why would he be?” Your genuine question earns him an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“You have no idea, do you?” He asks in a peculiar whisper, his brown eyes examining the genuine confusion in your countenance with scrutiny. His lips curl into an all-knowing smile that intrigues you annoyingly. “Well, let’s just say that you are more than just a sugar baby to him.”

You swear your heart skips a beat, but then again, Jake might be spewing things since you know damn well that Jay only sees you as his sugar baby. All of his affections, etc., are typically how a sugar daddy treats his sugar baby, based on your presumption. You resort to silence as you decide to finish your champagne, slowly growing more comfortable that a fine man is standing next to you.

Jake takes your silence negatively and mentally berates himself for being unconvincing with his choice of words. He clears his throat to grab your attention. “Do you know that I went to Harvard too?”

Just like that, you and Jake form a friendly connection as you get lost in his storytelling that involves his days with Jay, particularly back in college. You notice the similarity between Jay and Jake, how they seem to talk about each other in playful annoyance, but there is an unmistakable fondness, reminding you of your friendship with Sabrina. You are so immersed in the delightful conversation with Jake that you have totally forgotten about the jealousy that embittered your mood earlier until he decides to bring up a particular memory.

“I mean, really, you should’ve seen how nervous he was! I’ve never seen him being anything like that in all my years knowing him.” Jake chuckles. “He was freaking out on what to do next after you accepted his request. It’s quite pathetic, if you ask me.”

There is no way that you would tell him that you were just the same. “But I don’t get why he was nervous. He’s a CEO, and I’m…me.” You attempt to say it in a light-hearted manner, but the dejection in your strained smile makes his eyes soften.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you — Jay is genuinely head over heels for you, even before your first official meeting. He didn’t even care what status you hold. There was something about you that captivated him.” Jake says with an unwavering resolution, and it rekindles the hope within you. “I can’t really blame him, though. You’re a stunning lady. I wouldn’t want to pass up the opportunity of getting you to be my sugar baby too.”

You decide to ignore his ever-flattering remark. “Earlier, you mentioned something about me being more than just a sugar baby to him.” You tilt your body to an angle to face him better with your arms folded below your chest, curiosity glinting in your eyes. “What did you mean?”

Jake gives you a rare, soft smile. “I think it’s better that you ask him yourself.”

“Easy for you to say. I can’t do that without shitting in my pants.” You tell him with an eye roll, not fazed by your choice of words to the fine man whom you’ve just met, but he doesn’t particularly seem bothered either.

A sigh leaves his lips. “But then you would never know, and I doubt that he’d tell you first. My guy is ridiculously shy when it comes to you.” He mumbles the last part that you can’t quite catch.

“I’m scared.” You confess truthfully, feeling oddly inclined to confide in Jake, probably because you feel comfortable with him. “I like him, Jake. I really like him, and I see him as more than just someone who provides for me financially. But I’m worried that he might not be into me like that.”

“God, you two are indeed the perfect pair.” Jake mutters under his breath as he rolls his eyes. He looks at you sternly dead in the eyes with no traces of mischief or falsehood in his, but his features soften quickly as he sees the sliver of vulnerability in your countenance. “Sweetheart, he talks about you to me all the time, and when he does, he speaks so highly of you. That shows how smitten he is. He truly adores you, and no woman has ever managed to earn his adoration throughout the years I’ve known him, so trust me when I say that he’s really into you like that.”

You open your mouth to speak, but a high-pitched laughter draws your attention back to the familiar crowd, only for the fire of jealousy to go ablaze tenfold within you when a highly sophisticated long brunette is practically feeling Jay up while hugging his arm like a pillow.

“That woman always did want to get into Jay’s pants since forever.” Jake scoffs, his tone holding disdain. He takes a glance at you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern at how upset you look. “But he always rejects her, so don’t worry.”

“He doesn’t look like he’s rejecting her now.” You mutter bitterly as you watch him speaking with an older businesswoman while not in the slightest bothered at the woman clinging onto his arm like a desperate lover. You had forgotten that a part of your research involved him being a womaniser back in his late 20s.

“I have to agree with you on that. No idea what he’s thinking right now.” Jake says with a clear disapproval, but the obvious effort of Jay pulling away his arm from her goes unnoticed by the two of you as you look away from them.

Just then, Sabrina’s idea pops into your head. You capture Jake’s attention with an expression that raises his eyebrow. “I want to make him jealous. It’s stupid, I know, but—“

“I think that’s a brilliant idea, gorgeous.” Jake cuts you off gleefully with a grin.

You look over your shoulder, only for your heart to skip a beat when Jay meets your eyes before diverting your attention to Jake and startling him with a hand on his bicep. “Do you mind?” You ask apologetically.

“Certainly not.” Jake seems mischievously delighted, swiftly wrapping one arm around your waist before guiding you to sway to the soft jazz. You watch as his eyes flicker to something, or rather someone, behind you. “He’s coming over, and he looks furious. You know what? Maybe it would be wise for me to release you—”

“Just play along. Pretend to keep talking to me.” You whisper to him, feeling a fiery determination in achieving your goal. Jake casts you a charming smile as he speaks about something in an attempt to make it seem like he’s flirting with you from a certain someone’s point of view.

Just as Jake’s remark elicits a genuine chuckle from you, your breath hitches in your throat at the sensation of a strong arm swiftly replacing Jake’s before you find yourself being pulled until your back hits a solid chest. “Here you are, doll. I see you have already met my best friend.” Jay says tightly, his voice carrying a dangerous tread that has you squirming lightly in his possessive grasp. “You two seem to get along pretty well.”

“Words have been circulating about your engagement to this stunning lady.” Jake says coolly, completely unaffected by Jay’s glaring ire. “Considering that you’ve been enthusiastically socialising, was it your doing?”

“Can’t help it. Gotta warn the men here to steer clear of my fiancée.” Jay tightens his grip around your waist, his tone lacking any amiability or warmth despite Jake being his best friend. “And that includes you.”

Jake gives him a sardonic smile. “Kind of ironic how everyone now knows that you’re engaged, and yet those ladies back there didn’t seem to treat you like you’re an engaged man.”

You hold back a smile and maybe a cheer too, feeling touched that Jake is on your side, but it instantly overshadows the way Jay presses you hard into him that has you feeling a distinct shape of something else. “The same way you’ve been flirting and touching my fiancée.” He snarks.

“Stop it, Jay. You’re being ridiculous.” You say annoyedly before forcing yourself to extricate from his strong grip. You look Jay in the eyes, hiding your surprise behind a glare because right now, he looks nothing like the soft-looking man whom you’ve been spending time with for a month. “Jake is a nice guy and a fine gentleman at that.”

“Yeah, Jay. You heard her.” Jake adds fuel to the fire, earning a withering glare from Jay while he remains grinning. “How could I ever ignore your gorgeous fiancée, whom you left alone to entertain the other snobby socialites? Besides, she gets my humour and laughs at my jokes, unlike you.”

“You’re a full package, Mr. Sim. Charming and funny. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Just like Jake, you continue to provoke Jay, oblivious to the danger you had roused as you grin cheekily at the Australian.

Jake shoots you a flirtatious wink. “You’re a flatterer, Ms. L/N.”

“I hate to cut this short, but it would be generous of you to leave my fiancée now that I’m here to keep her company.” Jay grabs you by the waist and pins you to his side, causing your breath to hitch once more at the bodily contact. “In simple words, fuck off.”

Now you’re starting to get genuinely annoyed at his attitude towards his best friend. You look at him with a glare, ignoring how his sharp eyes actually evoke intimidation within you. “Can you stop being petty and rude? He’s your best friend!”

“Unfortunately, your fiancé’s right, sweetheart. But I did enjoy keeping you company.” Jake draws your attention when he grabs your hand tenderly before giving your knuckle a kiss, a gentlemanly gesture that has Jay fuming, but the Australian provokes him for another time as he casts you a coquettish grin. “You can text me anytime since you have my number now. See you next time, gorgeous.”

With that, Jake walks away leisurely as though he didn’t just aggravate the situation that you brought upon yourself, and it seems like Jay knows about your deliberate plan as his grip on you feels dangerously unyielding while you can feel his eyes penetrate into your side profile.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.” Jay whispers in your ear with a sensual note, his lips grazing along the shell of your earlobe. “You’re playing a dangerous game here, doll.”

“What are you trying to insinuate?” You ask brusquely, your prior emotions bubbling to the surface as they influence your every action and word. You attempt to wrest yourself from his ironclad grip, but he effortlessly overpowers your strength. “And let go of me. Go back to your group of socialists. You were obviously enjoying their company more than mine.”

Jay recognises the underlying jealousy in your tone, and the glaring anger in your eyes only seems to spur him further, because damn, you look so fucking hot right now. “You’re pissed.” He points out in a subtle awe, a smirk toying at the corner of his lips, and it seems anything but playful.

“No shit. You let those women touch you and even flirt with you, and you expect me not to lose my cool?” You snap, practically seething, putting more force before finally breaking free from his grip. The glaring anger in your eyes never leaves his dark ones, your lips curling into a sneer. “You’ve messed with the wrong woman, Mr. Park.”

Jay scoffs lowly, his lips curling into a smirk that borders on mean, and shit, you find it so hot. “Oh really? How hypocritical of you to tell me that as if you didn’t flirt with my best friend in front of me.” His voice is rough, ladening with something that unfurls the heat in your core dangerously. “Were you trying to make me jealous, doll?”

His eyes darken at the sensual movement of your lip being tucked between your teeth as you look away from him, and just like that, the last thread of restraint easily snaps within him. A resigned sigh leaves your lips as you intend to surrender. “Jay—”

Your word is barely a whisper when he pulls you by the waist while one hand cradles the back of your head, giving you no chance to utter a word as he kisses you squarely on the lips. “Because damn it, it’s working.” He speaks in between the kisses with vehemence, raw desire dripping from his gravelly deep voice, eliciting an involuntary whimper from you that goes straight to his cock.

You are thankful that you have chosen a secluded corner, or you would have drowned from the embarrassment at your brazen display of neediness in public. Before you can eagerly reciprocate the kiss, Jay detaches his lips from your chasing ones, leaning his forehead against yours, his breath heaving from the excruciating constraint of his own desire. “Fuck, I need to get us out of here.” He whispers harshly.

“B-But the gala isn’t over.” Your heart stutters at the way you speak when he pulls you by the wrist, your eyes staring at his broad back while he guides you to the exit, and he even ignores the other socialites that are vying for his attention along the way, as though he only has one mission that renders you both flabbergasted and aroused.

“I don’t give a damn about this worthless gala. We shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” He finally speaks up after the taut silence that followed you from the ballroom all the way to the lobby, but his tone is unrecognisable, rendering you perturbed for a moment.

Yet, despite getting caught in the whirlwind of his emotions, Jay is ever-so perceptive of your instinctive response to his brusque austerity, how peculiarly attuned he is to your emotions. He clenches his jaw in anger because, for a moment, he hates himself for making you feel daunted by him. Without looking at you, he gently pulls you into the elevator as it opens.

You look at him with uncertainty as he presses the button where the basement parking is at. You bite down your bottom lip hard, getting highly flustered by this silence. “Jay—”

Jay takes you by surprise, swiftly pinning you against the wall, but there is an ambience of tenderness emanating from him that has your heart pounding as he leans his forehead against yours, a rare delicacy gleaming in his eye.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I know I shouldn’t have left you all alone. I got too caught up in the propositions and strengthening networks with other entrepreneurs.” He explains hoarsely, one hand holding your waist while the other cradles your face tenderly. “I’m sorry I upset you. I should’ve pushed those women away.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” You say thickly, your tone holding an edge of desire for the man who is gazing into your eyes with such longing, as though you are the only person that mattered. “You were rude to Jake too.”

“He deserves it because he touched and held my fiancée.” His voice is soft but palpable with a husk of desire that ignites the heat in your core. “If he wasn’t someone important in my life, I would’ve done a lot worse.”

“Fake fiancée.” You correct him, feeling breathless with each passing second while a newfound tension mounts in this enclosed space. You tilt your head to an angle where your lips are dangerously close to his. “I’m not your real lover, Jay, so why did it matter that Jake touched me?”

“It matters because you’re mine. My woman.” He speaks harshly, and yet you don’t feel the slightest hurt, only pure lust intensified by his low, guttural voice and the way his grip tightens on your waist. “He knew that, and yet he still went for you.”

“Bold of you to say that when you had women all over you, so consider us even, then.” You counter weakly, lacking resolve as his possessive proclamation intensifies the relentless heat in your core, and all you need is for him to close the damn distance between your lips.

His eyes darken with an inscrutable emotion amidst the palpable hunger. “Did my apology mean nothing to you?”

“Words mean nothing if you don’t prove it with your actions.” A startled gasp leaves your lips when he presses his very distinct bulge into your body. Holy shit. He’s big.

“Does this prove to you how apologetic I am? How this prove that you’re the only woman capable of turning me on?” He says huskily in your ear, teasingly pressing his borderline painful cock into your tummy again, and he swears he can hear you faintly moan under your breath. “Those women could never make me hard the way you always do.”

“Always?” You mutter breathlessly, daring yourself to tilt your head back as you meet his dark eyes.

“Always. You have no idea how much you drive me fucking insane every damn time.” He confesses, confirming your presumption that he was indeed turned on during those times but mastered the art of self-restraint. “I don’t think I can hold myself back any longer, doll.”

“Then don’t hold back anymore.” You whisper in a sensual lull, feeling the mounted tension threatening to come crashing down on you. “Kiss me like I’m your woman, as you claimed so.”

Your lips are already parted open when his lips descend like a molten desire he repressed for so long. His lips seek yours hungrily, overwhelming your every sense as he kisses you senselessly with his hands roaming around the curvature of your back while you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer even when his body is pressed into you.

The air is charged with something dangerously electrifying, affecting the heat in your core that prompts you to grind into his hardened bulge. As the slit of your dress offers easy access for you, you lift your leg and rub it sensually against his side thigh, only for him to seize your thigh to pin your upraised leg to his hip.

“I got you, doll.” Jay groans huskily against your parted lips that are throbbing from the intensity of his dominant kisses while he grinds his bulge into you, feeling the pleasurable friction as you reciprocate, your clothed clit getting sensitive with each assault from his grinding.

“I need more.” You whine needily in between kisses, feeling your underwear dampen with your arousal. He pulls away from you, only to trail wet kisses down your neck while you submissively arch into his touch. Your soft moans fill the enclosed space as he kisses and bites down on your flushed skin, eventually tainting your once-pristine skin with his mark. You clutch on his strong shoulders, lips quivering with an uncontrollable need. “Jay, please—”

Jay swiftly captures your lips with his, kissing you with an insatiable hunger, pulling you into the depths of his desire. “I’ll give you more later.” He grunts against your lips before thrusting his tongue into your hot cavern, licking every inch and meeting your tongue in a sensual dance while moans emerge from the back of your throat every so often. Your breaths mingling with pleasurable sighs escape your lips in between the messy and desperate kisses.

Just as the two of you get lost in this intoxication of your desires melding into one, the elevator chimes open, prompting you to break the heated yet messy lip-lock, the string of saliva that remains connected on the seams of both of your lips a testament to your co-equal hungers. You look at Jay with hooded eyelids while heavy pants leave your swollen lips.

Jay smirks attractively, his eyes darkening as he scans the pure neediness in your gorgeous countenance. He leans in to kiss you wetly on the lips, causing you to squeeze your thighs together at the unbearable arousal that no doubt soaks your undies completely. How embarrassing it is that you get easily wet just by his kisses.

“Where are we going?” You ask as he proceeds to drag you to his car, anticipation brimming in your veins.

“To my place, and…” He pauses as he retrieves a familiar device in his pocket to unlock his vehicle.

“And?” You probe, watching as he opens the passenger door for you like a gentleman, as he always does.

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest when his dark eyes fixate on you before he leans his face closer to yours, an irresistible smirk etching on his handsome face. “You’re about to find out that I’m not always the gentleman you thought I was, doll.”

After the smouldering tension that accompanied the silent car ride to his place — a luxurious mansion that’s highly worth millions due to how lavishly monumental the structure is — you would have thought that things would escalate to an erotic union you had been aching for, especially after the frenzied make-out session that happened again as soon as he dragged you past the threshold of the mansion.

Wrong. The insatiable man who had practically devoured your lips and left a hickey or two on your neck earlier left you high and dry after the relentless interruption of his ringing phone, and it has been five long minutes since he left you dripping wet from the dry humping while being pinned against his bedroom door.

“I recall you were insistent about me getting married for years, so shouldn’t you be glad that I’m now engaged to my future wife?”

His words are punctuated with austere exasperation that distracts you from examining the decor in his bedroom as you now stare at the man in the vanity mirror, whose collected demeanour seems dour with each passing second as he continues to speak with his mother on the phone.

It genuinely unnerves you how the news of Jay Park’s engagement has reached his own mother in a span of a few hours since the two of you left the gala, and considering his predominant reputation in the industry, no doubt it is currently being disseminated to every media outlet. You just hope that this will do nothing to jeopardise what you have with him, or even your life as an ordinary woman.

“Nothing you said could ever induce me to break my engagement with the love of my life.” He speaks with fierce conviction, rendering you more than flattered by his adamant despite this engagement being simply a pretence. “You know, Mother, all of this fussing and reprimanding is ruining the perfect night for my fiancée and me.”

Your cheeks flush warmly when his eyes briefly meet yours in the mirror. You quickly feign being occupied with unclasping your necklace and your earrings before placing them on the vanity table since they were feeling a tad weighty, for some reason. But your eyes betray you when they gravitate to him again, and this time, his dark eyes are fixated on you with a familiar dark intensity.

“It doesn’t matter what her status and background are. The important thing is that she’s my happiness, not that it mattered to you in the first place.” He continues to speak to his phone without breaking eye contact while advancing towards you from behind, like a stealthy predator preying on its food. “You’re wasting my time when I should have been busy with my exquisite fiancée. Oh, truly, she’s impeccable, perfect for my taste buds.”

Your eyes widen just slightly, appalled at his audacious remark to his own mother, and you swear you can hear her chastising on the line, but Jay is unrelenting as he steps closer and closer until he towers over your figure from behind. Your core throbs in response to his hand feeling up the curvature of your waist.

The smirk on his lips never leaves as he holds your gaze with his dark, sultry eyes, even when he leans down to place a sensual kiss on your exposed shoulder. “Speaking of taste buds, I’m feeling quite famished, so you don’t mind if we cut our conversation short, no?”

You find the underlying mockery in his tone incredibly hot for some reason, or maybe it has to do with your neediness that is dripping again from the way you lean into his irresistible touch, suppressing a whine in your throat as his hand goes cupping your throbbing mound.

“I have to attend to my food. Can’t let your only son die from starvation.” Jay smirks, cruel mockery dripping from his tone while he continues to cup and squeeze your mount, rendering you awfully desperate and needy as you grind your ass cheeks against his hardened bulge.

“Jay—” Your word is barely a whisper when an accidental whimper escapes you instead, earning you a piercing stare from him in the mirror while his large hand cups your mound harder, as though he is displeased by you, but his eyes swirl with dark amusement and palpable hunger.

You clamp your quivering lips shut, suppressing every noise in the back of your throat as you use every strength you can muster to endure his relentless seduction, his eyes never leaving your glossy ones and his hand being attached to your aching core while he steadily grinds his bulge into your ass.

Jay’s a refined menace, you think. It genuinely astounds you how his demeanour remains unyieldingly impassive, betraying none of the tempest within him, but the tone in his voice gets gradually unsparing, which carries an underlying warning, and it does nothing to abate the unbearable heat within you as you find every bit of this hot.

“There will be no further discussion after this call. I’m marrying my fiancée, and that’s final. If you wish to attend our wedding day, it would be wise for you to remain on my good side.” His voice is a low rumble next to your ear, sending you a pleasurable shiver down your spine. “Send my regards to Father.”

As soon as Jay ends the call and places it on the vanity table, a needy whimper leaves your lips, arching into his sinful touch. “M-Marrying your fiancée? What do you mean?” You stutter, your chest heaving up and down with your breathing uneven. “You can’t be serious.”

“What if I say I am?” His voice is a husky whisper, carrying the weight of his hunger. Anticipation thrums in your veins as he proceeds to unzip the back of your dress, his movement deliberate and tantalising. “Will you push me away, doll?”

“But we can’t—” You are rendered speechless when he roughly tugs down your dress as it falls to the floor, exposing half of your nudity in his hungry eyes. You swear you can feel his erection growing when his gaze lingers on your purple lace bra.

“And why can’t we?” The warmth of his palm sends another shiver through your body as he rubs the curvature of your bare ass in a deliberate motion of up-and-down.

You press your palms down on the solid surface in front of you for support, feeling weakened as the desire burning within you is consuming the edges of your sanity, your back arching at the relentless burn of his touch on your body. “B-Because I’m just your sugar baby.” You manage to utter despite getting breathless.

Something inside of him snaps as soon as those words leave your lips, and before you know it, Jay deftly turns you around and lifts you up by the waist while your head spins at the escalation. Your body instantly shivers at the sensation of a cool surface beneath you before finding yourself seated on his vanity table.

His figure remains towering over you, imposing and reeking of sensual dominance that has you preening for submission, but your eyes fall to his lips instead. He slots himself in between your legs before you can close them. You feel the weight of his gaze on your face while you remain meekly avoidant.

Jay grabs you by the chin, his grip firmly assertive as he forces you to make eye contact. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me that I’m just your sugar daddy.” His voice is nowhere near harsh or rough, but firm enough to mean business, and yet there is an underlying plea. “Tell me, doll.”

Your heart beats in a familiar rhythm on the day when the profound clarity dawned on you at the realisation of your true feelings for your sugar daddy, and yet your tongue sits heavily in your mouth because you know that you don’t deserve to harbour romantic feelings for someone like him, someone so perfect who doesn’t deserve the broken you who carries a lot of emotional baggage since forever.

Instead of telling him what he wants to hear, you take him by surprise, swiftly pulling him by the nape and slamming your lips into his. You shove down the bitter truth of your feelings and allow the pure lust to reign in dominance in the way you kiss him feverishly.

The irresistible allure of your lips compels him to reciprocate with equal eagerness, shivers rippling through him as you begin to get handsy with unbuttoning his blouse that feels as demanding as your kiss. “Doll.” He murmurs against your lips, his hands latching around your wrists to stop you just after you manage to free the last button of his blouse.

“I need you so badly.” You protest with a needy whine, knowing that he still wants to hear you say those words, but you are being driven by your pure need for him to touch where you ache terribly the most.

“But you haven’t told me—“ His words fall short when you grab his hand, making his head spin with dangerous thoughts as he feels the direct warmth of your pussy despite your undies being dampened by your arousal.

“I’m so wet.” You purr, dripping with seduction that is impossible for him to delay his own need in pleasuring you, and it doesn’t help with the way you spread your legs further while guiding his fingers to move in an up-and-down motion on your clothed clit that he can feel distinctly thanks to your wetness. “Need you to touch me here, daddy.”

“Fuck.” He curses harshly under his breath, his cock twitching delightfully at the label that feels illicit, and yet, he keens to hear from your sinful tongue again. “Call me that again.” He demands, allowing you to take control in the way you continue to use his fingers to rub your clothed clit while you rock your hips back and forth.

“Daddy.” You keen in a sensual slur, your sultry gaze never leaving his that seems to darken with something so primal, and yet his fingertips tracing on your skin move with practiced patience before sliding under the material of your undies. You nearly moan out, hips slightly stuttering from the sensitivity when the padding of his fingers makes direct contact with your clit.

Jay stifles a groan, his cock twitching again beneath the slacks at the sensation of your swollen clit, because damn, you’re practically soaked all over. “Even your clit is wet, doll. How needy are you?” Cruel amusement curls on the corner of his lips as he rubs your clit deliberately slow but effective enough to rouse the bundle of aching nerves.

Jay spreads the slick arousal on your clit with his finger, rubbing in a tantalising yet maddening circle, exasperating you. “Don’t tease.” You whine, your pretty eyes gloss with such neediness that send his head into a frenzy.

“I’ll do whatever I want to do to you.” His tone borders on mean, as does his demeanour, with no traces of the usual gentleness, and your eyes prick with tears at the loss of his fingers from your now-throbbing clit.

You open your mouth to speak, but he swiftly captures your lips in a searing kiss, all inhibitions thrown out of the window. Your hands move in urgency as they roam around the plane of his abdominal muscles, sending pleasurable shivers through him. He is completely insatiable, deepening the kiss like he wants to imprint his soul on yours.

Jay pulls you by the hips until your wet core presses into his erection, eliciting a breathy moan from you that he greedily swallows. You obediently part your lips open for his tongue to lick every inch while you slowly gain momentum in grinding your weeping, clothed pussy into his girthy erection; each friction on your clit feels more pleasurable than the previous.

“Jay.” You moan breathily as soon as he pulls away from your lips, only for him to trace an ardent path down to your neck with his lips that amplifies your senses. You arch into his touch that feels possessive; each grip and squeeze on your curves feels like a reminder that you’re his.

“You’re mine, doll.” He rasps against your skin, his low rumble sending vibrations through your neck. He kisses the previous hickey on your neck wetly before hovering his lips over yours and kissing you hard. “Mine to kiss, mine to fuck, and mine to love.” His gravelly timbre shocks you to the core as he growls out in between the kisses.

Without breaking the heated lip-lock, Jay lifts you from the vanity table with ease while your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. He carries you over to his king-sized bed, his fingers squeezing your plump ass intermittently. He groans lowly into your mouth at the pleasurable sensation of your fingers tugging his now-dishevelled hair.

“Fuck me.” Your demand sounds like a pathetic plea that brings a smirk to his lips before he bites down on the plush of your lower lip, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

“Where are your manners, doll?” He grunts against your lips, taking you by surprise next with a harsh smack in the ass, causing your body to jolt in his hold.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You plead softly, feeling both intimidated and highly aroused by the intoxicating dominance he exudes.

In the haze of your lust for him, you can barely register the impact of being thrown on his bed before recovering as you turn around, only for your pussy to throb at the sight of him towering over you by the bed as he lazily peels off his blouse with his dark eyes penetrating into yours before you feel a magnetic sensation pulling your gaze down.

The desire in your eyes is palpable as you feast on his fine glory in keen appreciation. You already know that underneath every one of his luxurious apparel conceals his broad physique, but as he presents half of his nudity to you now, you conclude that he must have hit the gym often in his spare time despite being a busy businessman. His defined muscles are a testament to his diligent work at the gym, and you desire to feel them under your touch again.

“My eyes are up here, doll.” Amusement laces his authoritative tone, and yet he receives no response from you, your hungry eyes roaming on his glory elevates his pride as his hard work at the gym has evidently paid off.

You bite down your lower lip, your eyes lingering on the delicious sight of his V-line dipping behind the slacks. You want, no wait, you need to feel every inch of him. But before you can make a move, Jay pulls you closer to him by the legs as his stature gradually lowers, making your breath hitch in anticipation.

“Jay!” Your shocked exclamation comes immediately as soon as he tears the fabric of your undies roughly, his unrivalled strength rendering it flimsy. “That was my favourite!” You complain as you watch him toss aside torn fabric.

“It was getting in the way.” He grumbles in protest as he positions himself at the same eye level as your pussy. “I’ll buy you a few pairs.” He promises, but you are distracted by the bashful wave hitting you as his eyes are fixated on your perfectly waxed mount.

You attempt to close your legs, but he is swift enough to reign control over your flexibility as he spreads your legs apart with his palms firmly pressing into your inner thighs, presenting your bare pussy lewdly in his ravenous eyes.

“Fuck. Your pretty pussy really is soaking wet, doll.” His husky voice holds a palpable hunger, and his eyes are fixated on your pussy as he uses his fingers to spread the lips for a vivid view of your glistening arousal dripping.

“Jay.” You gasp softly at the sensation of his warm lips pressing into your wet clit, hips nearly bucking up to gain some form of friction, but he pulls away. His cock feels borderline painful now, but he desires to prioritise your needs, which is pure torture for someone who hasn’t had pussy for four years.

Your leg twitches slightly from the sensitivity when he presses his thumb into your clit before stroking it lazily in mini circles. “I’ve been dying to get a taste of you.” He confesses, his eyes never leaving your preening pussy while he continues to tease your clit, rousing your bundle of nerves.

“You have?” You utter breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you feel the room temperature rising from the manifestation of your desires. You fist the bedding when he places another kiss on your clit, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Mmhmm.” He hums while the vibrations send pleasurable shockwaves to your bundle of nerves. “Dreamed of tasting your gorgeous pussy every night.” His confession is accompanied by a hard lick on your clit, eliciting a surprised moan from you.

Jay groans huskily at the taste of your arousal on his tongue, and he knows that one taste is never enough. Without wasting a second, his tongue licks a broad stripe along your pussy lips that he journeys upward until your clit and gives it an obnoxious lick before repeating the actions, eventually sending your head in an intoxicating frenzy.

You quiver underneath his relentless tongue as he continues to stimulate your clit and his saliva that lathers your pussy lips while the sound of your pretty moans spurs him further. He sucks your clit with doubling efforts, tearing a moan from your lips before he dives into your cunt, his tongue now exploring your weeping hole. You roll your eyes from the pleasure, feeling his warm tongue so distinctly along the walls that it sends your head delirious.

“Pussy tastes so fucking good. I’m never letting go of you after this.” He growls into your cunt, adding more pleasure to the shockwaves rolling through your body. He rears back, eliciting a needy whimper from you as he leers at your pussy. “Can’t believe how drenched she already is even before cumming. So fucking needy for me.”

Jay delves into your cunt once more, but with stringent purpose while the chiselled bridge of his nose bumps your clit with the way he bops his head. You arch your back as you roll your hips into his skilled tongue, moans spilling from your lips as he continues to devour you with an insatiable hunger. You swear you can hear him moaning amidst the obscene sound of your sopping cunt and your moans filling his spacious bedroom.

Without letting up, Jay rubs your neglected yet swollen clit, amplifying your pleasure at the dual sensation of his tongue and his thumb while your moans pitch higher as you spread your legs even further with your arched back deepening, displaying such wanton neediness that goes straight to his cock. He swears he can come undone just by eating your pussy alone.

“I’m close!” You announce in a high-pitched whine, hips stuttering against his relentless thumb that is rubbing your clit hard with fervour while his tongue continues to fuck your hole. Before you know it, your orgasm comes in uncontrollable waves as you come undone violently on his tongue.

Instead of pulling away, Jay remains attached to your cunt, his tongue lapping up your slick release avidly while you marvel at the sight of your sugar daddy. You have been eaten out before, only because you requested it, but nothing like this, and you didn’t even have to ask him to do so.

Sensing your gaze on his face, he looks up and meets your eyes as he finally comes to a stop, but not before placing a wet kiss on your clit that throbs faintly in response. “I could eat your pussy for hours, doll.”

“I doubt that.” You mutter, your voice slightly strained as you watch him rise. Your cheeks flush warmly as you notice that his nose, lips, and chin are glistening with your arousal under the dim yet sensual glow across the room.

With the way he runs his fingers through his dishevelled hair and his abdominal muscles present to you, the smirk on his lips and his dark eyes leering down at you, you think you could come undone again by this sight alone, because damn it, your sugar daddy is sinfully attractive. You don’t think you could ever find another man as attractive as him.

“That was a promise, by the way.” He says, lowering himself again, and this time, he slides two fingers into your wet cunt, your slick arousal serving as a lubricant. You gasp, mouth agape and eyes rolling to the back, but it isn’t the stretch of your walls that brings out another high-pitched whine from you; it’s the way his thumb rubs your sensitive clit at a menacing pace.

“No! I’m still sensitive!” You protest weakly, writing underneath him, but the rolling movement of your hips only seems to amplify your sensitivity, involuntarily pressing your clit into his relentless thumb and allowing his fingers to delve deeper with each roll of your hips.

“No? Then why is she crying for my fingers?” He chuckles darkly, his demeanour absent of the usual gentleness or kindness. Having enough of you trying to escape, he deftly grabs both of your wrists and pins them above your head, his strength unrivalled. “Don’t be ungrateful, doll. Daddy is only giving your needy pussy what she needs. Look. She’s dripping all over my fingers again.”

You had no idea that Jay being condescending and mean could be so fucking hot when all of your wet fantasies consisted of him being a complete vanilla. Maybe he is, if you go further with him, but right now, the way he’s fucking you with his fingers feels just as unforgiving as his dark eyes penetrating into your teary ones.

“I can’t!” You protest again with an unwept sob, attempting to close your legs, but your defiance earns you a stern slap on your pussy that only seems to feel pleasurable while the wet squelch from the impact echoes off the walls. His dark eyes hold a silent command to open your legs, and you do so as you stifle a whimper when he plunges two fingers back into your hole.

“Yeah, you can. How else are you going to take my cock if you’re still so fucking tight?” He hisses under his breath at the resistance in your walls enveloping his fingers, but that doesn’t slow him down from fucking you at a steady pace. “You’ll take what I give you like the good fucking doll you are for daddy.”

Though you remain obstinately tight, Jay knows that you are not a virgin, and the thought of another man's cock in your sweet pussy fuels his jealousy, impelling him to increase momentum that sends your head delirious once more. “Fuck! Jay!” You cry out, eliciting a smirk from him as he revels in the way you are falling apart only from his fingers alone.

“Come on, doll. Don’t disappoint daddy now.” He admonishes softly, his tone an underlying mockery, but you submit keenly to him. He leans down, bumping his nose affectionately against yours, humming. “Don’t you want to be my good girl?”

“I do.” You whimper, your kissable lips jutting into a small pout while your eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “Always want to be daddy’s good girl.” You keen, your voice breathless as each unyielding thrust from his skilled fingers alone knocks the air from you.

Jay places a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips, displaying a faux tenderness that has your pussy pulsating around him. “Then give me another one. I know you still have it in you.” He commands sternly.

A series of moans and whines emits from you as you accept this agonising pleasure that renders you keening for more. Your hips move in tandem with his ruthless fingers with your curve in a perfect arch that hypnotises him. With his ruthless fingers working on both your hole and your clit, the knot forming in your tummy threatens to snap anytime. His fingers now curl in you, hitting that delicious spot with precision that triggers something powerful this time.

With the last of your moans echoing off the walls, the knot in your tummy imploded, followed by your release gushing out in clear fluids from your battered cunt, wetting the bedding beneath you, while your lips part open with a silent moan and your hips stuttering.

“Atta doll.” Jay grins, his eyes watching your cunt squirting for a little longer while his fingers never relent from pumping, emitting obscene squelches. Seeing as your legs quiver from the aftermath, he withdraws his fingers from you and rubs the outer side of your leg soothingly. “Did so good for me.”

Your heart flutters at his words, but you feel completely breathless, your chest heaving up and down as you slowly recover from the intensity of your orgasm. Holy shit. You have never squirted before throughout your past experiences.

Jay releases your wrists as he leans down to give a kiss below your belly button. You watch him silently as he continues with his kisses along your body, your heart fluttering again at how every kiss feels reverent, until you decide to earn his attention with a tug on the wrist.

“Kiss.” You plead softly as you latch your hands on his neck to pull him to your face. Maybe it’s the way he kisses, or the texture of his lips, but you have grown so addicted to his kisses that you fantasise of kissing him every day.

“So needy for my kisses too.” He chuckles lightly with a reserved adoration for you before he dips his head down and kisses you deeply on the lips. He lets you take control over the kiss, smirking at the obvious hunger with the way your lips move against his and your fingers haphazardly running through his hair.

You break the lip-lock first, intending to return the pleasure as you work on his pants with your hands, but he stops you with a gentle grab on the wrist. “What about you?” You ask with genuine confusion as you sit up because guys would usually want the favour back.

Jay shakes his head. “It’s alright, doll. Some other time instead.” He says softly despite his tone being definitively firm. As much as he would love to feel your mouth taking his cock, he can’t waste any second as he desires to be buried in your cunt.

“But—” You are silenced by his lips as he kisses you hard while his hands work on peeling the last of his garments.

“Shh.” He shushes you when you part open your lips into the kiss. He pulls away, his once-softened eyes now darkening with a familiar hunger that rouses excitement within you. “Get on all fours for me now.”

You obey his command, turning around with your hands and knees pressing into the bedding as you wait for him with nervous anticipation, because from the look of his erection beneath the slacks alone earlier, you are certain that he may be bigger than your last fling.

You feel him tapping your hip, a signal for you to crawl forward as you feel the bedding dip from behind you. You decide to get comfortable as you lower your upper body, which causes your back to arch sensually while you spread your legs a little further until he has the erotic view of your holes, his eyes darkening with appreciation.

Now bare of any garment, Jay grabs the base of his cock and brings it closer to your pussy, but instead of going straight for your hole, he teases you with repeated taps of the bulbous head on the wet folds, eliciting whines from you while sparks of sensitivity shoot through him from the mere contact of his slit with your pussy lips.

“I know, I know. Needy for daddy’s cock, aren’t ya?” He coos, familiar mockery lacing his tone that borders on cruel. He aims the tip at your slightly gaping hole and inserts it agonisingly slowly, but he doesn’t go all the way. Instead, he thrusts only the bulbous head into your stretched hole experimentally. “But are you sure you can handle it?”

Your whines are full of impatience and frustration as he prolongs his teasing. “I can—“

The air is knocked out of your lungs with one swift shove of his cock into you without warning, your lips agape while your eyes prick with tears at the painful stretch of your walls trying to accommodate to his sheer girth. You have underestimated his size, because damn, he is massive to the point where you feel instantly full, and raw.

“Damn, baby. You're still so tight. Did I not prep you enough?” He groans huskily, his hand seeking your waist for leverage. He does an experimental thrust before he stills his hips and allows you to adjust. He drags his finger along the perfect arch of your back, sending shivers through your spine. “But my doll can take my cock, yeah?”

A moan leaves your lips as soon as he delivers a single thrust, his movement measured and controlled, as though he is mastering self-restraint for your sake as you still struggle to adjust, but devoid of prior pain, only a tad uncomfortable.

“You’re so big.” You breathe out, moaning softly at the delicious sensation of his girth dragging along your walls slowly as he does a pull-and-push motion repeatedly, allowing you to feel the ridges and veins protruding from his cock.

Jay smirks at your remark, feeling a sense of pride. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll make sure to train your pussy to take my cock with ease, but for now,” He grunts as he delivers hard thrusts that have your body shaking from the impact, his balls hitting your ass in the process. “Let daddy use your pussy however he wants.”

You become pliant immediately, falling dumb the instant he proceeds to fuck you with wild abandon, each thrust unforgiving and each stroke hitting deeper than the previous while more moans spill from your lips. The pain is replaced by pleasure as his cock stretches your walls deliciously, and you swear you can feel your lower abdomen bulging with each thrust.

His hands are attached to your waist in a way that makes you feel like you’re his fleshlight, and that turns you on even more, prompting you to spread your legs, which makes your ass stick out while he can’t resist smacking the supple of your ass. His breath goes ragged with low moans and grunts occasionally escaping him as he relishes the wonderful sensation of your cunt being battered by his cock.

The way Jay is fucking you feels borderline animalistic in such a short span of time, but something tugs within you, as though it is telling you that this is not just your sugar daddy fucking you simply because he desires you — this is a man who has been deprived of satiating his raw, sexual needs for years.

“Harder, daddy.” You manage to utter a moan quickly, eliciting a scoff from him before you find yourself losing strength to hold your upper body at the forceful impact of his thrusts, your face and chest pressing down into the bedding, but your ass remains sticking high.

“You want it harder? Like this?” He growls under his breath, slamming his hips into yours hard while each thrust of his cock reaches your cervix, rendering you nearly cross-eyed from the overwhelming pleasure. His dark eyes feast on your body, being completely pliant under him, before watching the way his cock, now lathered by your slick arousal, disappears and reappears lewdly from your cunt, the sight so hypnotic that it spurs him further.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the persistent fullness of his girth from the way he delivers shallow thrusts while your body shakes and often lurches forward from the hard impact. “S-Slow down—”

“Take what daddy is giving you like the good slut you are for me.” He cuts you off with another growl, his voice ladening with primal hunger. He groans as soon as your cunt clenches like crazy around him. “Oh? You like being called my slut?”

Your cunt clenches around his cock again, sending his head into a frenzy. “Your cockslut, daddy.” You moan out keenly, loving the idea of your sugar daddy being derogatory to you.

“My cockslut will do anything just to get daddy to fuck her like this, yeah?” He sneers, his hand landing a harsh smack on your ass while you shriek at the impact. His eyes darken as he recalls the repulsive sight of another man’s hands on your delicate skin earlier, fuelling a thundering emotion that goes beyond jealousy. “That’s why you had to piss me off by flirting with my best friend.”

“Nngh! Daddy!” Your fingers desperately seek purchase in front of you, needing to ground yourself from his relentless thrusts as he fucks you with a brutal intensity, eliciting screams and moans that border on sobs, tears escaping your eyes, and yet you love every second of this.

Without letting up his thrusts, Jay leans forward and braces his arms next to your head into a plank-like position, but he is careful enough not to crush you with his weight. “Got me fucking riled up when he held you like you’re his.” He snarls next to your ear, his gravelly timbre ladening with an unmistakable possessiveness that resonates deeply to your core. “You’re fucking mine, doll.”

You moan out in response, unable to formulate your words as his shallow thrusts only seem to deprive you of coherency while the new position allows you to feel his cock deeper than the previous. You can feel his abdominal muscles subtly flexing against your skin as he presses his body into yours. His warmth and natural scent melding with yours create a new wave of intoxication that you desire to bask in.

But Jay isn’t satisfied with your lack of response. His fingers encircle your throat, applying the perfect pressure to your pulse that emphasises his dominance as he earns your attention. “Say it.” He grunts into your ear, his hot yet ragged breath fanning the shell of your earlobe. “Say that you’re mine.”

“Y-Yours!” You manage to utter in between staggering breaths, your cunt clenching around him when he tightens his fingers around your throat, a silent command that you immediately grasp. “I’m always yours, daddy!”

“That’s fucking right.” He bottoms out hard with his body slamming you down, causing your clit to gain friction as it often makes contact with the bedding. He fucks you like he intends to ruin you. “All mine. Never forget that.”

His fingers now loosen but remain attached around your neck, allowing you to turn sideways to meet his eyes. “Jay.” You moan softly with half-lidded eyes as you look at his parted lips. “Kiss me, please.”

Jay silently complies, angling his head for his lips to meet yours in a perfect fit with his hand cupping your jaw while your hand seeks to grab his dishevelled hair loosely. You moan into the kiss when his tip hits the spot while he forces his tongue into your panting mouth, exchanging lewd yet lazy kisses with tongues dancing in a twisted tango.

Even when your lungs burn, you refuse to detach yourself from his lips, and so you continue to kiss him while he every so often devours every inch of your hot cavern, sucking and biting your plump lips that become swollen. Each time he deepens the kiss, it feels as though the connection you have with him deepens too, the same way his cock lodges deeper into your cunt.

“Can feel you clenching around my cock, doll.” He rasps against your wet, swollen lips before slowly pulling away as he feels your cunt clenching rapidly, a telltale sign of your imminent release. He decides to amplify your pleasure as he sneaks his hand underneath your body to find your clit before rubbing it hard. “You’re close, yeah?”

You are teetering on the precipice, knowing that it is only a matter of time as his cock relentlessly bullies your battered insides while his thumb on your clit ignites an overwhelming sensitivity. “Oh my god!” You sob out, your body writhing and convulsing under him as the band in your tummy threatens to snap.

“Come for me, my slutty doll.” He lets out a guttural growl, and on his command, you tumble over the edge of ecstasy with your eyes rolling to the back while a broken moan leaves you. But he doesn’t stop, even when your essence is bathing his cock.

You hear his breathing frenziedly ragged while his thrusts begin to fall in an inconsistent momentum, alerting you of his incoming arrival. “I-In me—“ You utter weakly, your hand latching on his muscular bicep. “Come in me, please.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in a strained grunt, unable to prolong his orgasm that teeters on the same precipice as yours.

You hum needily. “Want daddy’s cum to fill my pussy so bad.” You whine, receiving a chaste kiss from him on the cheek.

“I’ll give you my cum, alright. Daddy will fill you with his cum all night, till your sweet pussy can’t take it.” His promise has your cunt squeezing him keenly, eliciting another cuss from him before he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. With one last earth-shattering thrust, he matches the crescendo of your release, his hips smacking into you and going completely still as he fills you to the brim.

As the last of ecstasy in the air wanes, Jay releases your shoulder that now bears his teeth mark before giving it a kiss. Though your walls remain clinging around him, he unsheathes his cock from you, drawing whines from you as his girth drags along your battered walls tantalisingly slowly until you feel nothing except the union of your fluids.

Jay stifles a lustful groan, his cock twitching in demand for another round at the hypnotic visual of your hole instinctively pushing out white fluids, but he needs to see your face while he holds you. “Come here, doll.”

Despite your aching limbs, you force yourself to turn around just in time to see him hovering over you before he seals you in a breathtaking kiss that has you moaning softly into his mouth, his tongue tenderly caressing yours. With your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, he carries you effortlessly and settles himself with you seated on his lap while he leans against the headboard with his legs sprawled out.

Sensing you need air, Jay breaks the lip-lock, his eyes shifting to your gorgeous chest, darkening with appreciation. “I knew this purple lace bra would look gorgeous on you.” He says, leaning down to map his kisses across your chest while you feel his fingers caressing your back. “But your tits look better without them.”

Jay takes you by surprise when he expertly unclips your bra with one hand. “You’re skilled.” You compliment him as you rest your hands on his shoulders, but your tone holds a bitterness of something that has him smirking while he helps you in removing your bra. “Had experiences?” Your question is laced with sarcasm.

Jay rears his head back to get a better look at your pouty countenance that you try hard to conceal with impassivity, but he can see through you. “Is that jealousy I sense?” His question is absent of genuine curiosity, more of a taunt.

You muster the sweetest smile you can, albeit it feels tight on your face muscles. “Hardly. Besides, I’ve had my fair share of flings.” You confess nonchalantly, smirking lightly as you see his eyes darkening familiarly.

But your confidence falters when he squeezes your ass tight while the other goes cupping your tit. “Your tight pussy could’ve fooled me.” He says calmly, using his thumb to rub your nipple that slowly hardens.

You stifle a moan as you feel sensitivity shooting through your body with each nipple rub. “You’re not jealous?” You ask breathlessly, your back arching into his touch as he cups both tits with his palms.

A smirk touches his lips, his eyes glinting darkly with confidence. “Hardly. Besides, my cock will be the last ever to be buried in your sweet pussy.”

You chuckle breathily while you have him briefly mesmerised by the irresistible smile on your lips. “Confident now, are we?”

“It’s not confident, doll.” He retorts in an attractive drawl, and his smirk widens as he manages to draw out a soft moan from you with the way his fingers manipulate your tits. “Because I know that your pussy will only be satisfied with my cock alone after tonight. You’ll be begging for more.”

“Don’t get too cocky now.” You mutter as you roll your hips into him, his cock gaining its vitality with each contact of your tummy. You can’t resist grabbing the base of his cock, earning a lustful groan from him as he tilts his head back. “Who knows I may change my mind?”

“And yet, you’re desperate for my cock again.” He takes you by surprise when his mouth quickly connects to your nipple, sucking and licking it deliberately slowly despite his hunger roaring at him to devour your tits that had been in his wet dreams.

“S-Shut up.” You stutter just as the way your hips do, your pelvis pressing into his while you silently marvel at how fast his cock has gone rock solid. You take another glance at his cock that has your pussy preening, and he is the biggest you have ever taken.

Jay releases your nipple with a wet ‘pop’ before making a disapproving tut under his breath. “Where did your manners go?” He says roughly at the same time he slaps your tit, causing you to jolt from the impact.

The flare of defiance in your eye dwindles as he slaps your tits again. “I’m sorry.” You whimper, and yet you push your tits out keenly for him to abuse your tits as they jiggle with each slap, enjoying the pain that comes with pleasure.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. Ride me.” He commands sternly as he gives your ass a hard squeeze. “Show me how desperate you are for my cock.”

You do so without delay, wanting to please your sugar daddy. You lift yourself up, one hand on his shoulder while the other grabs the base of his cock as you attempt to align it to your excited cunt. With a shaky breath, you slowly sink on him but with obvious difficulty as your walls struggle to accommodate his sheer girth.

“Is my cock too big for you? Look how you’re struggling to take me again.” He smiles smugly as he watches you evidently struggling, taking your time while you grit your teeth in annoyance at his mockery. “Need some help, doll?”

“I can do it. I just need—“ Your breath hitches as soon as the entirety of his girth manages to snuggle in your cunt while the intrusion causes the union of your cum with his trickling down profusely, smearing his thighs, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

“Damn. I’m never going to get tired of your sweet pussy.” His husky voice is raw with lust. He squeezes your tits for good measure before leaning against the headboard leisurely. “Now ride me.”

With a whimper, you do as he tells you, rocking your hips back and forth despite your walls stretching painfully from his girth. Your hands seek for purchase on his shoulders, stabilising yourself as your head spins at the sheer fullness that has you clenching around him, and yet he seems composed, watching you intently with dark amusement.

The pain eventually subsides, leaving only pleasure that slowly builds up within you with the help of your clit grazing against his abs, creating a delicious friction while he occasionally kneads your tits before alternating between sucking and licking your nipples, but it isn’t enough for you to attain the heights of pleasure you desperately seek. You huff and puff, to which he finds quite adorable despite the sensual movement of your irresistible body, as you find yourself riding him harder and faster deliberately, hoping that he would get the damn hint.

But nothing changes except the eventual exertion seeping into your muscles from your relentless effort alone, prompting you to falter in your momentum. Seeing the tears gathering in your lash line, he smirks cruelly, knowing exactly what. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired, and you’re making me do all the work!” You complain, your kissable lips quivering and jutting into a pout that has him caving into your need.

“It’s what you deserved after flirting with my best friend.” He reminds you sternly, his hands finding placement on your waist as he helps you to rock back and forth on his swelling cock, eventually switching to a different rhythm that has you bouncing on his cock instead.

“You’re still mad about it?” You moan out as you begin to feel the tension coiling in your tummy with each thrust of his cock that buries to the hilt each time he pulls you down with a wet splat mingling with your bated breaths. “I-I thought we were past that.”

“Oh, we were never past that, not until you come to understand that you’re mine.” His rough voice holds a familiar possessiveness as he recalls. His fingers dig into your flesh as he bucks his hips up into you stringently, drawing more moans from you. “And I’m a very jealous man, doll.”

With a harsh slap to your ass, Jay proceeds to fuck the remnants of his pent-up emotions into your battered cunt that produces obscene squelches and splats of your skin meeting due to each relentless thrust as he picks up the speed, rendering you in complete shock at his stamina. He is practically jackhammering his cock into you with an impressive consistency.

His dark eyes never leave your face that contorts beautifully into sheer pleasure with your head tilted back, your mouth agape, your eyes rolling to the back as you lose yourself in the sheer pleasure, sweat trickling down your jaw, your tainted neck with his hickeys a testament to his ownership. He has dreamed of having you like this.

Jay leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your every moan and breath, his head going into a frenzy as your cunt pulsating around him is a familiar telltale sign of your imminent release, highly infectious to his cock that teeters on the verge of the same release.

With another fierce thrust, Jay pulls you down by the hips at the same time he bucks his hips up, burying his cock to the hilt that sends an intense shockwave through your body, essentially triggering your teetering climax as you arch your back sharply with a wanton moan leaving you, your climax hitting you in torrential waves.

But Jay continues to thrust his cock into you, even after your release has coated his cock and is leaking messily from the persistent friction. You paw at his muscular pecs for reprieve. “I know, I know. Just a little more.” He grunts against your parted lips as you whine out your sensitivity.

With one last thrust, Jay lodges his cock to the hilt once more, hips going still as he moans deeply into your mouth, lips grazing against each other but not quite kissing, his orgasm washing over him like a torrent of ecstasy and his load filling your womb to the brim. His cock remains nestled in your cunt, feeling it gradually soften.

Wordlessly, Jay presses another kiss to your lips, one that you weakly reciprocate, before leaning his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling. You shudder lightly as he caresses your back in a soothing motion before falling languid against him. Even the sweat glistening on his skin doesn’t deter you from snuggling into him, your cheek pressing into his shoulder, basking in this temporary blissful afterglow.

“So it worked.” You break the serene silence as you utter quietly, and yet he can discern an underlying sense of amused satisfaction in your tone, earning a brow raised from him.

“What do you mean?” He asks in between the kisses he delivers to your crown and forehead while his arms around you feel like an affectionate embrace between lovers.

With your palms on his muscular pecs, you push yourself away from him to meet his confused eyes directly, mischief playing at the curl of your lips. “It was my intention to make you jealous, but I didn’t expect you to be genuinely jealous like that.”

Jay scoffs at your cheeky confession. “Were you trying to get back at me because of those ladies at the gala?” He probes with a playful accusation, but his eyes are steely with fierce conviction. “They don’t matter to me, not in the slightest. Irrelevant.”

“Partly,” You confess again with a simper smile while your heart flutters keenly at his words. Your fingers absentmindedly trace along the ridges of his abdominal muscles, sending perpetual shivers through him. “But the main reason was to get you to fuck me.”

“By making me jealous?” He gives you an incredulous stare despite the amusement in his tone, but something shifts in his demeanour dangerously, causing your senses to be on high alert. “That was a bad strategy, doll. You should’ve told me that you wanted me to fuck you instead.”

You become hyperaware of his predatory gaze penetrating into you, but you play off your nervousness with a chuckle. “Nah. It’s way more fun to make you jealous instead.” You attempt to push yourself off him, but his arms feel like a cage of lust as you feel a palpable tension brewing from the manifestation of his primal hunger for you.

“Trust me, you do not want to make me jealous, doll.” It all happens spontaneously, because you can barely register the escalation that renders your head dizzy from the way he manoeuvres to a position where he hovers over you, his broad frame preventing you from any form of escape.

“Jay—“ Your breath hitches while your pussy flutters around him as he begins to fuck you again with a renewed vigour, each ferocious thrust stealing your breath away.

“Because this is what happens when you provoke me.” He growls out as he punctuates each word with an unforgiving thrust while his hips snap into yours painfully, and you sure are forming bruises by now, and yet, you desperately meet his every thrust.

His dark eyes glaring into your teary ones, a twisted satisfaction blooming in his chest as he watches you already falling apart from the instant overstimulation. He rears back to grab your leg and places it over his shoulder, hiding his surprise at your flexibility while the new angle allows him to fuck you deeply.

“No more gentleman Jay you thought I always was, doll.” His gravelly timbre is drowned out by your sweet moans and cries. His fingers go circling around your neck firmly, demanding your attention on him as you force your eyes to lock with his. “I’m going to fuck you till you remember who you belong to.”

And he does, pistoning his cock into your battered cunt relentlessly, but with brutal precision that has you seeing stars, borderline animalistic as though his hunger hasn’t been appeased after fucking you twice before this.

“Right there!” You moan out as soon as his tip hits the spongy spot that has your back arching sharply with each relentless thrust. With your arms wrapped around his broad back, your fingernails rake on his skin haphazardly, sending pleasurable sensations through him.

“I’m going to ruin you, doll.” He says darkly as he squeezes your neck, his tone holding a promise that both excites and unnerves you.

“All yours to ruin, daddy.” You sob out keenly, hiccups leaving your lips intermittently while your every sense is consumed by the overwhelming pleasure from his cock alone.

“My good girl loves to please me, yeah?” He rasps, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your lips, a stark contrast to the way his cock hammers into your sensitive cunt that feels devastating.

“Wanna please daddy all the time.” You utter brokenly, a single tear rolling down your cheek, to which he abandons your neck to wipe your rolling tears away affectionately.

“You always have, babydoll.” He croons, and you nearly physically purr at his adoring admission. He rears back just slightly and places his palm on your bulging lower abdomen. “Feel me here, doll? Looks like daddy’s cock is made perfectly just for you.” You nod your head mindlessly, unable to formulate coherent sentences.

In the intoxicating haze of lust, you grasp the opportunity to admire his very attractive face — his hair completely dishevelled and damp with sweat that also trickles down his sideburns, pure lust swimming in the depths of his eyes, his angular jawline seeming more defined, and his every feature and muscle taut with tension. A smirk touches his lips briefly as he catches you staring at him before increasing the intensity of his ruthless momentum.

“I can’t! It’s too much!” You sob out, your cunt clenching hard around him, and yet he manages to pound his cock into you with ease before driving you to the edge of sanity when his thumb rubs your clit with an unsparing vehemence, intensifying the band of your climax within you.

“Nothing is too much for this slutty pussy.” He growls, never faltering as each thrust is unyielding bringing him to greater heights of ecstasy while relishing the wet warmth of your cunt. “I haven’t even filled you up with my cum yet.” He groans before leaning down and taking your nipple in his mouth.

You are completely at his mercy, every assault of his cock, his mouth, and his fingers on your body alighting your nerves that send you to a state of complete euphoria, the world fading into insignificance. A litany of moans, cries, and screams emits from you, your coherent thoughts now fragmented from his relentless thrusts that have your whole body trembling beneath him.

Your tears are a silent plea for respite, but the pain that comes with pleasure feels beyond addicting, rendering you an insatiable cockslut for him as you roll your hips to meet his overpowering ones. You push your chest outward, enticing him to lick and bite your nipples that amplifies the pleasure coursing through you.

Jay is practically worshipping your tits despite his cock drilling into your battered cunt feeling punishing, enjoying the sensation of your perky nipples on his tongue and the fullness of your tits that prompts him to squeeze one before slapping it again. His back burns from your raking fingernails, but it only intensifies his insatiable hunger to fuck you with reckless abandon.

The band in your tummy becomes unbearable as it threatens to snap, and so with a loud moan, you surrender to the intensity of your orgasmic release while a familiar yet uncontrollable sensation surges through you as your eyes go white.

Jay watches with dark satisfaction as you squirt profusely even when he doesn’t relent from thrusting his cock into your ruined cunt while his thumb never relents from rubbing your clit, your obnoxious release soaking him and the sheets beneath you.

With a deep moan from his chest, he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure as he delivers one last thrust that hits your battered cervix deliciously before going completely still, pressing his hips into yours. He lowers your sore leg, giving you the impression that it is over as he slowly withdraws his cock from you.

Just as you intend to close your legs, Jay spreads them further apart, exposing your ruined cunt lewdly. A whimper leaves you as he uses the tip of his cock to tap your clit repeatedly. He smirks down at you. “You didn’t think that we were done, did you?”

After that, hours feel like a blissful eternity as the two of you succumb to the abyss of sheer pleasure, losing yourselves in the heady mix of sweat, lust, and the unadulterated smell of sex, staining his once pristine king-sized bed. Your body constantly craves both pain and pleasure, allowing him to fuck you in every position possible where he can see your face, desiring to watch as you fall apart before he puts back the pieces just for him to repeat the intoxicating cycle.

But eventually, the intensity of your sex marathon dwindles, shifting into something unfamiliarly tender that you have never felt throughout your past experiences, because the way he is fucking you now feels as though he is making love.

“Look at you. Weren’t you crying earlier about how it’s too much?” He teases, smirking down at you as you keenly meet his slow yet shallow thrusts.

“Shut up.” You moan out, not bothered by the embarrassing crack in your strained voice. You latch your hand on his bicep, feeling his muscles flexing beneath your touch. “Love your cock in me.”

“I know you do, doll.” He chuckles breathily before kissing you on the lips sweetly without faltering his momentum while you tangle your fingers in his damp strands, pulling him down until his chest presses into your tits as you seek the closeness.

“I’m close.” You whimper into the kiss, your heart fluttering at each tender caress of his lips on yours while the knot in your tummy is prepared to unravel for the last time.

“Me too, baby.” He rasps against your lips before pulling away and burying his head into the nook of your neck. His arm slides underneath your body to encase you, pulling you closer while his thrusts begin to stutter as he is teetering on the precipice. “Let it go for me, love.”

With a hard flick of his thumb on your clit and on his affectionate command, you surrender to the overwhelming release, your back arching off the mattress as you roll your eyes at the same time he tumbles over the edge of ecstasy, his hips going still as they press into yours while he fills you to the brim for the last time, finally attaining the pinnacle of your pleasures.

Your legs around his waist tremble tremendously from the aftermath while you convulse beneath him. You whimper out at the sensation of his cock dragging along your battered walls as he intends to pull out quickly, leaving your cunt empty but smeared from the union of your fluids.

Jay settles next to you, and though the exhaustion is hitting him like a freight train, he seeks to comfort you after doing a number on you, but when he turns to face you, you are already seeking his warmth without his help as you move closer before wrapping your arms around his torso. Your eyes linger on his chest and neck that are decorated with fresh scratch marks and some hickeys; each was your doing.

Feeling satisfied by your artwork on this fine masterpiece, you decide to relax in his warm embrace, his arm cradling your head while the other is around your waistline, his fingers caressing your skin tenderly. You gaze into his dreamy eyes that have been staring at your face. “Hi.” You whisper, gracing a small yet playful smile on your lips.

Jay cracks into a grin, making him look a decade younger. “Hi, honey.” He coos as he cradles your face, his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly.

“That was amazing.” You confess earnestly, because indeed, that was the best sex you ever had, and he even has great stamina compared to the guys your age do. Sabrina was right — the older they are, the more experienced and better they are in bed.

His grin turns smug, to which you playfully narrow your eyes. “Better than your past experiences?” He asks with genuine curiosity, because honestly, he did have some thoughts about whether or not he met your standards despite his outward confidence.

“Way better. But I think you broke me.” You say half-jokingly, but really, he completely wrecked you, rendering every part of your muscle tremendously sore that even lifting a limb feels like a gruelling chore.

For a fleeting moment, concern swirls in his irises as he scans you. “Nonsense. You’re perfect.” He says so sincerely without hesitation.

Something so different yet tangled with familiarity stirs in your heart. “Really?”

He hums, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “You’re always perfect in my eyes, doll.” He murmurs, his eyes gleaming with affection as he gazes at you. His lips curl into a smile as you adorably snuggle into his bare chest. “As much as I would love to cuddle with you, daddy has to take care of you now.”

You tilt your head up, casting him a smirk. “So you have a thing for referring to yourself as ‘daddy’ now, huh?”

He narrows his eyes at you playfully before smacking your ass cheek, eliciting a small yelp from you. “I should be the one asking you that.”

“Well, it seems fitting since you’re technically my sugar daddy.” You say with a thoughtful hum, oblivious to the bitterness painting his countenance that goes by quickly when you return your gaze to him.

“Right.” He chuckles dryly, hoping that he isn’t obvious enough to give away the bitterness that lingers within him. He raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you. “Was I the first you called ‘daddy’?”

“The first and last.” You affirm with a grin, and he can’t resist kissing your nose; how you can switch between adorable and sensual still amazes him. You exchange kisses with him before he decides to untangle himself from you, being careful enough as your limbs are still entirely sore.

“Wait here. I’ll fill up the bathtub for us.” He informs you before walking away from you. Your eyes fall to his bare back before quickly turning away, your cheeks flushing warmly as the visual of his entire bare back is now committed to your memory.

You let the time pass quickly by taking a momentary rest with your eyes closed until you feel your body being manoeuvred before finding yourself being carried by strong arms, prompting you to snap your eyes open in surprise. Your eyes roam around his perfect side profile, admiring how perfectly sculpted his handsome face is.

“You know, you’re the first to ever show courtesy by providing aftercare.” You speak up as soon as he submerges into the filled bathtub with you, the warm temperature seeping into your sore muscles instantly. You find yourself seated on his lap sideways, allowing you to look directly into his eyes. “Thank you.”

His eyes soften at your earnest gratitude, but it doesn’t allay his dissatisfaction upon hearing your confession. “It seems that you had a pretty shitty taste in men, doll, because providing aftercare is actually a bare minimum.” He remarks, but his tone holds no malice, only an underlying indignation on behalf of you despite you not looking the slightest bit upset about your past experience.

“At least I have finally developed the right taste in men now.” You defend yourself, grinning cheekily at him, which brings out an amused exhalation from him while he reaches out for the shampoo bottle at the side. You watch him open it and squeeze the perfect amount of liquid onto his palm.

“I’m the only and last man you’ll ever be with.” He says, lathering the liquid with his palms before applying it to your hair and massaging your scalp, but he pauses as he looks at you with a serious gaze. “Unless you have any objections?”

“No. I quite like being with you.” You confess, your grin melting to a smile so soft while your eyes sparkle with genuine adoration as you look at him. “And I like you, Jay.”

His lips curl into a smile while his heart faintly throbs. “I know.” Of course, you like him since he’s your sugar daddy.

You take him by surprise as you throw your arms around his neck, the water around you splashing in the process. “I really, really like you.” You confess again with strong emphasis.

“I like you too, doll.” He reciprocates with such sincerity, his hands descending to your waistline before hugging you close to him. “I always have since day one. I like you a little too much.” He doesn’t even care that he might have fucked things up with you by confessing the truth, because really, he liked you at first sight.

Butterflies flutter wildly in your tummy at his confession, and yet, you don’t dare to breach the unspoken boundary that remains, what you truly mean to him. Instead, you lean closer to him, your tits pressing into his chest as you angle your head to an irresistible tilt. “Kiss me?”

Jay smirks briefly before dipping his head down and kissing you sweetly on the lips. He thinks that your lips alone are enough to forget his problems, how he wishes to bask in you forever, his newfound safe haven from the cold world he has been surviving ever since he embarked on a journey where he had only himself to depend on except his best friend.

“Sore.” You sigh against his lips before falling languid as you lean dependently into him. “Too tired to move.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He murmurs, being ever so tender with you, his hand rubbing your back comfortingly. “You can depend on me, honey.” Because he knows more than anyone how easy it is to crumble without dependency on anyone trustworthy.

With each step you take, your sore thighs quiver, prompting you to hold onto the wall for support while every part of your muscles and joints is terrifically tender, but instead of staying in bed a little longer, you need food to recharge your energy after last night’s hours of passion that still feel like a wet dream of yours, but the hickeys decorating your skin and the instability in your tremendously aching limbs are a testament to his promise of reminding you that you’re his, your cheeks flushing warmly at the memory.

Despite your body screaming for respite, you continue your journey to the kitchen, following the delectable smell wafting in the air while also taking in the interior decor of his sumptuous home, the muted colours a stark contrast to your colourful apartment, but charmingly minimalist that reminds you of the owner himself. Your heart instantly flutters at the thought of him, and the flutters intensify as you stop by the kitchen’s entryway.

With a silent wince, you take another step forward before you lean sideways against the wall with arms folded below your chest, watching him in silence as he gets immersed in his element with his broad, handsome back facing you. You find yourself smiling despite the untamed butterflies in your tummy, swooning over the domestic sight of your sugar daddy, who no doubt will be an ideal husband.

The black polo shirt fits his physique perfectly and displays his toned arms for your eyes to feast on, even more so when you catch the mere sight of his golden Rolex on his wrist. He nearly looks unrecognisable with his raven hair unfettered, the volume and some wispy strands hovering over his forehead making it look like he has his hair permed. In fact, he looks a decade younger.

“You might want to take a picture if you intend to stare at me all day. It’ll last longer.” Jay says without taking a glance at you, pulling you out of your reverie.

Your cheeks flare with embarrassment, wondering how he can feel your silent presence when he’s been too immersed in cooking. Nevertheless, when your eyes meet his amused ones, you greet him with a sheepish smile. “Hi.”

Your tone sounds delicate as to the way you look, like a dream he never wants to wake up from. His softened eyes linger on your angelic face, but at the eventual realisation of his white button-down blouse being adorned on your figure, he feels the familiar hunger rousing within him. It intensifies when he notices that you are bare of any leggings since his blouse reaches the midsection of your gorgeous thighs. His gaze lingers on the glaring hickeys and faint bite marks on your once-pristine skin that he can’t seem to count. He really did ruin you.

Jay quickly masters self-restraint as he doesn’t wish to wreck you like he did last night. “Hi, honey.” He reciprocates gently, giving you a smile so soft that it looks radiantly dreamy. He places two ceramic bowls on the marbled island. “I made you breakfast.”

Your stomach rumbles instantly, but instead of heading straight for the steaming bowl, you feel a gravitational pull towards the man of your dreams instead. “I didn’t expect you to know how to cook.”

A smirk touches his lips while his eyes drink you in. “Surprised, doll?”

You hum, going straight for a hug that he wholeheartedly embraces you. “A delightful surprise, at that.” Your voice is muffled in his shoulder as you bask in his warmth and scent. “Any other secret talent about you that I should know?”

Jay chuckles breathily, an attractive tune that intensifies your feelings for him. “Stick around a little longer, and you’ll find out.” He says before planting a kiss on your crown. “Unless you intend on leaving me.”

There is an edge in his light-hearted tone, eliciting a frown from you, but your heartstrings tug painfully at the scenario that evokes a new insecurity within you as you imagine the opposite happening instead. “I don’t plan on leaving you, Jay.” You reassure him as you gently pull away to look at his face, your arms remaining attached around his torso. “Do you intend on leaving me—”

“No. Never.” He cuts you off sternly, his tone and eyes holding an unfathomable volume of promises that both scare and reassure you, because no one has ever looked at you like the way he does right now, as though he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side. “You’re unforgettable, doll. I don’t think I could ever find someone like you.”

Your eyes trace his every beautiful feature that burns in your memory, how truly unreal that a man like him seems to cherish you more than you will ever realise. “You don’t feel real.” You mutter absentmindedly.

Jay adorns a charming smile, dimples showcasing on his cheeks. He feels a bubble of amusement in his chest as you continue to gaze at him dreamily. He takes you by surprise when he leans down and kisses your lips sweetly. “Do I feel real to you now?” He whispers against your parted lips before pulling away.

“So real.” A giggle leaves you, a contagious sound that widens his smile. You look at him with a woozy grin, your head spinning in a good way that makes you feel as though your dopamine has reached its apex. “Hi.”

“You sound and look drunk, honey.” He comments amusingly as he pinches your cheek, but not enough to hurt you.

“Can’t help it. You’re just so dreamy.” You sigh softly, your eyes falling to his lips before you lean forward with your head tilted to the right angle for your lips to fit with his, kissing him tenderly.

“Say you, beautiful. The woman of my dreams.” He murmurs against your lips, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer than you already were. He breaks the lip lock before he can get too carried away by your irresistible allure, chuckling fondly when you turn pouty. “Come on, honey. You can pout for as long as you want after breakfast.”

Not too long later, you are settled on the stool right next to him, slurping on your beef udon noodle soup that tastes delectably rich. Despite satisfying your hunger, your heart flutters every now and then at his every action—the way he delicately holds your hair and brushes the strands that seem to be getting in the way while you eat, giving you the small side dish of his homemade kimchi that is meant to be his after you finish yours. You simply wish for this moment to last a little longer.

“Just to let you know, I cleared my schedule for this whole week so that we’d be able to spend more time together.” He informs you as soon as the two of you finish the bowls of udon.

You pause from taking sips of your drink before slowly putting down the glass. You furrow your eyebrows in concern. “Is that really okay? I’m sure you’re busy with all the work.”

“It’s fine, honey. My secretary will handle the paperwork.” He smiles, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek affectionately. “I want to focus on you, on us. We haven't really spent that much time together anyway.”

Your heart swells with something so peculiar despite the recognisable affection. Your eyes soften as you place a hand on top of his, leaning into his touch. “Thank you for always making time for me.”

Jay smiles softly, grabbing your hand before placing a kiss into your palm while you feel a familiar spark. “For you, always.”

Before you can speak, his chiming phone intervenes, prompting him to reach for his phone across the island. You take sips of your drink again, watching him from the corner of your eye and noticing how the radiant contentment on his face dims as he checks his phone.

“Is everything okay?” You ask tentatively as you put down your empty glass, your senses being aware of his dour mood despite the neutrality in his countenance.

Jay places his phone down and shifts his attention to you, his heart clenching as he scans your beautiful facial features. For a moment, he debates silently whether or not to let you know, as he hates for the light in your eyes to dim, but when your hand gently cradles his face, he caves in. “If it means leaving you for a few business trips abroad, then no, everything is not okay.” He confesses sullenly, leaning into your touch.

You try not to let the disappointment affect you deeply at the thought of his possibly long absence, as you have already expected this, since his job does require travelling overseas for business transactions, etc. “When?” You ask, your voice a steady neutrality.

“I should be making the proper arrangements by next week.” He informs, his dark brows furrowing as he seems to be thinking deeply.

You pull him out of his thoughts with a kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay. We still have this week to spend time together.” You say positively, mustering a wide smile that you hope is convincing to mask your disappointment.

“But it isn’t enough.” He counters, his tone lacing with frustration that borders on desperation, but you decide to allay his distressed emotions, giving his palm a tender kiss before positioning his hand to cup your cheek. His heart flutters at the unexpected action from you since he’s usually the one giving hand kisses. Just then, an idea pops in his head. “Honey, what do you think of travelling abroad?”

“I’ve always dreamed of being able to travel often once I gained financial stability.” You sigh softly, leaning into his touch while your beautifully sparkling eyes never stray off his face. “Why do you ask?”

Jay simply smiles, and his dimples are an adorable presence on his cheeks. “Because I’m going to make your dreams come true.”

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fvsm4x · 9 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - „I don‘t deserve someone like you“

—In an arranged marriage to the powerful sorcerer Gojo Satoru, you, a blind young woman from a noble family, quickly realize the harsh realities of your new life.

.contains blind fem. reader x gojo satoru, gojo is shitty, angsty, hurt no comfort, curse au, cheating, mistress, toxity, wc. 6.1k

The scent of jasmine filled the grand hall, its soft, almost cloying sweetness failing to mask the tension that lingered in the air. The wedding was beautiful, by all accounts—ornate chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting soft, golden light across the room. Tall vases overflowed with white lilies and roses, draped with vines that twined delicately around their stems. Everything was pristine, perfect, a vision of elegance and status befitting the union of two powerful families.

But beneath the surface, it all felt wrong.

The whispers of the guests were hushed, though not out of reverence or respect for the sacredness of the ceremony. They whispered because of you. They stared, eyes flickering between curiosity and pity, hidden behind false smiles and hollow words of congratulations. They pretended to celebrate, but you could hear it—the murmurs beneath their breath, the way their voices dipped just low enough that they thought you wouldn’t notice.

But you always noticed.

You stood still, hands folded in front of you, your posture impeccable as you’d been trained, listening as they spoke about the bride. The blind girl. The one without cursed techniques. The one Gojo Satoru—the Gojo Satoru—was marrying.

The ceremony had been just as silent, just as stifling, the weight of a hundred eyes pressing into you like needles. You had felt their gazes on your back as you walked down the aisle, guided by your father’s hand. Each step had felt heavier than the last, each footfall an echo in the vast room, but you held your head high, your expression calm and serene, as you had practiced countless times. The world around you was dark, as it always had been, but your senses were sharp, attuned to every shift in the atmosphere, every murmur, every movement.

No one questioned the marriage aloud, but everyone doubted it in private. The Gojo clan needed an heir, and you—born into a noble sorcerer family, though cursed with blindness and lacking any ability to fight—were chosen for the role. Not because of your power, not because of love, but because your bloodline was old and respected. Your family’s name still held weight in the jujutsu world, even if you did not. And Gojo… well, he was too important, too powerful, for anyone to refuse his family’s demands.

You could feel the tension in the room from the moment you entered. It rippled through the air like a current, crackling just beneath the surface of polite conversation. Your family had assured you this was the best course for both you and them. It was your duty, they’d said, to carry on the family’s legacy, even if you couldn’t do it the way your ancestors had. You would be a wife, a vessel for a future heir. That was your purpose now. You weren’t here to fight curses or stand beside him as an equal. You were here to bear the weight of an alliance and ensure the bloodlines remained pure and strong.

And he?

Gojo Satoru, the man you were now married to, had been as distant as the stars. Even during the brief ceremony, his presence felt like a cold wind brushing past your skin. He hadn’t said much—his voice, when he spoke the vows, had been flat and indifferent, devoid of the charm and magnetism that he was known for. His hand had touched yours only for the briefest moment, cool and detached, as though the act of taking your hand was more of an inconvenience than a gesture of unity.

There had been no tenderness, no sense of connection. It was as though he were performing an obligation, fulfilling a requirement, nothing more.

And now, as the ceremony gave way to the reception, he was nowhere to be found.

You stood alone in the grand hall, surrounded by the murmuring crowd, your fingers grazing the soft fabric of your wedding gown as you shifted your weight. The gown was heavy, draped in layers of delicate silk and lace that clung to your skin, a reminder of the weight of the expectations placed upon you. You could hear the soft rustle of the fabric as you moved, the sound barely audible over the hum of conversation and the gentle notes of the ceremonial band playing in the background.

The guests were mingling, their voices a blur of idle chatter and veiled judgment, and you were left to endure it all in silence.

"Such a shame," someone whispered, though you couldn’t tell who. Their voice was soft, yet the pity in it was sharp enough to cut. "A blind girl, no cursed energy…"

"Can she even fulfill her duties?" another voice added, the words tinged with disbelief. "Gojo must be furious."

Your heart tightened, but you kept your face composed, as you had been taught. You didn’t react. You didn’t turn toward the voices or acknowledge them in any way. You had long since learned that reacting only gave them power. So you stood still, hands clasped in front of you, listening as they judged you without hesitation.

“She must be so nervous,” a woman murmured to her companion, her tone laced with false sympathy. "I can’t imagine being so helpless."

Helpless.

You had heard that word so many times in your life. It clung to you like a second skin, a label that you could never quite shed, no matter how hard you tried. They saw your blindness and your lack of cursed energy, and they assumed that was all there was to you. A burden. An empty vessel.

It wasn’t just the guests who thought that. You could feel it in the way Gojo had treated you during the ceremony. His absence now was only confirmation of what you already knew—he didn’t care. To him, this marriage was just another arrangement, another responsibility to check off his list. You had been chosen for your lineage, not for yourself.

He wasn’t going to try, and neither were you.

It was only after what felt like an eternity of standing alone, the weight of the room pressing down on you, that you felt a shift. The atmosphere changed, a ripple of movement through the crowd, followed by the distinct sensation of someone approaching.

You knew who it was before he even spoke.

"Looking for me?"

His voice was smooth, casual, tinged with amusement that felt out of place in the solemnity of the occasion. It was the same voice he had used during the ceremony—bored, distant, with just a hint of arrogance. You had heard Gojo Satoru speak before, though never to you, and his voice was always laced with that same careless charm, as though everything and everyone around him were beneath him.

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t turn toward him immediately, taking a moment to compose yourself, to control the surge of frustration that rose within you. When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, calm.

"Where have you been?"

The question was simple, but it carried more weight than the words alone. Where had he been? On this day of all days, the day that was meant to unite you, however meaningless that union might be. You hadn’t expected warmth from him, but a part of you—buried deep—had hoped for something more than indifference.

"Busy," he replied, as though the question itself were a joke. He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t press him for details. He wouldn’t have given them, anyway. His voice was closer than expected, and you felt a subtle shift in the air as he moved closer. "This whole thing is exhausting. Don’t you agree?"

His words dripped with nonchalance, as though the day had been an inconvenience to him. Perhaps it had been. Perhaps the thought of being tied to someone like you—someone who couldn’t see, someone who couldn’t fight—was more than just a burden to him.

You remained still, though your fingers tightened slightly around the delicate fabric of your gown. "I suppose it is," you replied softly, your voice carefully neutral. "But it’s necessary."

Gojo laughed, the sound low and mocking, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, as though he were studying you, amused by your response.

"Necessary?" he echoed, his tone mocking. "I guess that’s one way to put it."

There was a pause, and you could feel the tension between you thickening, the space between you filled with unspoken words. You wanted to say something—something sharp, something that would cut through his arrogance—but you held your tongue. You had learned long ago that sharp words would do nothing here. Not with him.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice lowering as he leaned in slightly, “did you think this would be anything more than an arrangement?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let your expression falter. “I didn’t expect anything more than what was promised,” you answered carefully.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because that’s all it is. An arrangement. Nothing more.”

You could feel the cruel smirk tugging at his lips, even if you couldn’t see it. You didn’t need to see it. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the way he stood too close, invading your space as if to remind you just how small, how insignificant, you were in comparison to him.

The room around you felt colder, even though the temperature had not changed.

“Don’t worry,” he said, stepping back as though to release you from his presence, “this’ll go much easier if you remember that.”

As Gojo disappeared back into the crowd, the warmth of his presence faded just as quickly as it had come, leaving behind an emptiness that settled deep in your chest. You kept your face composed, your expression serene, as you had been taught. The noise of the reception swirled around you, a cacophony of clinking glasses and laughter, but none of it reached you. It felt distant, muted—like you were standing in a world that wasn’t meant for you, a world that you could never fully inhabit.

You didn’t need to see to know what was happening around you. The guests would be watching him now, the great Gojo Satoru, as he moved effortlessly through the crowd, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with his admirers. They’d hang on his every word, laugh at his every joke, their attention glued to him like moths drawn to a flame. He was the star of this union, after all—the one everyone came to see. Not you.

You were nothing more than the shadow in his light.

A part of you wanted to slip away, to retreat into the safety of solitude where the weight of the expectations and the judgment wouldn’t suffocate you. But you knew better. Your place was here, standing still, enduring. You had learned long ago that this was your role in the world of sorcerers—a silent participant, always on the periphery, always observing but never truly part of the action.

“Are you all right, my dear?”

The voice was soft, tentative—your mother’s. You hadn’t heard her approach, but the gentle touch of her hand on your arm was familiar, grounding. She was the one who had guided you through this life of duty, the one who had taught you how to survive in a world that had never been kind to those like you.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice steady. The lie slipped easily from your lips. It was a lie you had told so many times before that it felt almost like the truth now.

Your mother’s grip tightened slightly, her thumb brushing your arm in a subtle gesture of comfort. “He… he will come around,” she murmured, though even she didn’t sound convinced.

You resisted the urge to laugh at her words. Come around? Gojo Satoru? You had known, even before the wedding, that he wasn’t the type of man who could be swayed by something as simple as a bond of marriage. He was above all of that—above you. He was the strongest sorcerer alive, the most powerful, untouchable. And you? You were nothing more than the bride chosen for him because of your family’s name. A bride he could ignore without consequence.

“There’s no need for him to come around,” you replied softly. “This marriage is what it is.”

Your mother hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “You will find your place,” she said finally, though her voice wavered with uncertainty. “It may take time, but—”

“I know my place,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than you intended. You could feel her flinch, her hand withdrawing slightly, and a pang of guilt shot through you. She didn’t deserve your frustration. She had done what she thought was best for you, even if this life felt like a cage. “I’m sorry,” you added quietly. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I understand,” your mother said gently, though you could hear the strain in her voice. “I know this isn’t easy. But… you must remember your duty. This is about more than just you or Satoru. It’s about the future of our family.”

Her words, though well-meaning, did little to comfort you. You had heard them countless times before—spoken by your father, by your uncles, by the elders who had decided your fate long before you had any say in it. Your family needed this marriage. It was a strategic alliance, a way to secure your family’s position in the jujutsu world, to ensure that their legacy would continue through the next generation. You were simply the vessel through which that legacy would be carried.

But what about you? What did you want?

Not that it mattered. In this world, your wants were irrelevant.

“I know,” you whispered, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. “I understand my duty.”

Your mother didn’t reply, but you could sense her reluctance, her uncertainty. Perhaps a part of her regretted the role she had played in this arrangement. Or perhaps she simply didn’t know how to help you, how to guide you through something she had never experienced herself.

After a moment, she squeezed your arm again, then quietly slipped away, leaving you alone once more in the sea of murmuring voices and clinking glasses.

The journey back to the Gojo estate was quiet and uncomfortable, much like the rest of the day had been. You had ridden alone, save for the driver and a house staff member assigned to assist you, a man whose presence was unobtrusive and respectful, though it did little to ease the weight in your chest. The noise of the reception was a distant memory now, replaced by the soft hum of the car engine and the occasional rattle of the road beneath the wheels.

When the car finally came to a halt, you felt the subtle shift in the air, the familiar scent of the estate reaching you through the open window. The door beside you opened with a soft creak, and you turned your head slightly, listening as the staff member stepped out and came to your side.

"Lady Gojo," he said quietly, his voice steady, "we’ve arrived. May I assist you?"

You nodded, grateful for his presence even if the formality of it felt strange. His hand found yours with a practiced gentleness, and you allowed him to guide you from the car, your feet sinking slightly into the gravel as you stepped onto the driveway. The estate was large, its grounds sprawling and ornate, though you had never seen it with your own eyes. You had been given descriptions, of course—told about the lush gardens, the grand architecture, the beautiful traditional touches that made the Gojo residence a place of prestige. But to you, it was simply a place. Another cage, perhaps larger and more opulent than the last, but a cage nonetheless.

The man guided you carefully, his pace slow and deliberate as you walked toward the main entrance. The stone path beneath your feet was smooth, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you moved. You focused on the sounds around you—the distant chirp of crickets, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the soft shuffle of your guide’s footsteps. It was a comfort in a way, grounding you in the present, keeping you from drifting too far into the overwhelming thoughts that threatened to consume you.

As you reached the doors to the estate, another figure emerged from inside—a woman, her footsteps lighter and quicker than the man’s. You could tell by the soft rustling of fabric and the light scent of jasmine that she was one of the house staff, perhaps the one assigned to assist you personally. She approached with the same quiet respect, her presence calm and unobtrusive.

"Lady Gojo," she greeted softly, her voice smooth and measured. "I am here to assist you with getting settled. Shall I help you to your chambers?"

"Yes," you replied quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Thank you."

The man who had guided you this far bowed his head slightly, murmured a polite farewell, and took his leave. The woman stepped forward then, her hand resting lightly on your arm as she gently guided you through the grand entrance of the estate. The cool air inside the building was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the evening outside, the scent of incense and wood filling your senses as you walked.

You could hear the faint echo of your footsteps in the vast, empty halls, the sound a reminder of the sheer size of this place. It felt too big, too impersonal. The kind of space where someone could get lost—physically and emotionally.

As the woman led you through the winding corridors, she remained quiet, her touch firm but never forceful. She was practiced, you could tell, in the way she moved with you, guiding without pushing, always attentive to your pace. There was a quiet understanding in her actions, as though she knew that this day had been overwhelming, that words weren’t necessary right now.

When you finally reached the doors to your chambers, she opened them quietly and stepped inside with you. The room was cold, untouched, the air still and heavy. The silence hung between you both as she guided you toward the center of the room, stopping near the bed.

"Shall I help you with your gown, Lady Gojo?" the woman asked gently, her voice soft but professional.

"Yes, please," you answered, though a part of you hesitated. It felt strange, being undressed by another, but the gown was heavy, its intricate layers difficult to manage on your own, especially after such a long day. The weight of it felt unbearable now, pressing down on your shoulders, a physical reminder of everything this day had been.

The woman moved with care, her fingers deft as she began to undo the delicate clasps and ties of your wedding dress. You stood still, letting her work, the fabric of the gown slowly loosening and falling away from your body as she removed it piece by piece. The cool air brushed against your skin as each layer was peeled back, the heaviness gradually lifting, though the emotional weight remained.

Once the gown was fully removed, she folded it with precision, setting it aside on a nearby chair. You felt lighter, freer in a way, though the emptiness of the room and the absence of the man who was supposed to share it with you left a coldness in your chest.

"Would you like me to prepare anything else for you tonight, my lady?" the woman asked, her voice still calm and measured.

"No," you replied softly, shaking your head. "That will be all. Thank you."

With a quiet bow, she left the room, the soft click of the door closing behind her the only sound that remained. And then, you were alone.

Alone.

The word echoed in your mind, filling the empty space around you. You stood there for a long moment, the coldness of the room seeping into your skin, the emptiness of the house pressing down on you. This was your life now—a life of silence, of isolation. A life in which you were nothing more than a vessel for a future heir.

You hadn’t expected Gojo to be here, but even so, his absence stung in a way you hadn’t anticipated. He hadn’t cared enough to even pretend. This marriage, this life—it meant nothing to him. And to everyone else, you were just the blind girl. The one without cursed techniques. The one chosen not for her strength or power, but for her bloodline. A tool.

With a heavy sigh, you walked slowly to the bed, the soft rustle of the sheets the only sound in the quiet room. You crawled into bed, the cold fabric wrapping around you like a suffocating embrace. You stared into the darkness, your mind racing with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. Would it always be like this? Would this be your life—empty, cold, and filled with the constant reminder of your insignificance?

The cold sheets didn’t provide any comfort, nor did the quiet. The weight of the day pressed down on you, and despite your exhaustion, sleep didn’t come easily. Instead, you lay there, your thoughts swirling around in your mind, the reality of your new life sinking in.

The morning light filtered through the room’s large windows, though its warmth did nothing to chase away the cold that lingered in the air. You had hardly slept, the weight of the previous night pressing heavily on your chest. The events played over and over in your mind—the whispers, the ceremony, the emptiness. And now, waking up in this unfamiliar place, it was hard to shake the sense of displacement, of being trapped in a life that was not your own.

You sat up slowly, your body stiff from the restless night. The thin fabric of your nightgown offered little comfort against the morning chill, and for a moment, you remained still, unsure of what to do next. There was no routine here, no familiar rhythm to fall into. You had always known what your life would be—quiet, measured, controlled by duty—but now it felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under you, leaving you floating in a strange, empty space.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, soft but insistent.

"Lady Gojo," came the familiar voice of the woman who had helped you the night before. "I’ve brought you tea. May I enter?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice quiet.

The door opened, and you heard her footsteps as she approached, the soft clinking of a tray as she set it down on the small table beside your bed.

"I’ve also brought a change of clothes," she continued, her tone respectful. "If you’d like, I can help you dress for the day."

You nodded, though the thought of dressing for the day felt strange. What was there to do? What purpose did this day hold for you? You didn’t belong in this world of sorcerers and cursed techniques, of power and prestige. You were just the blind girl, chosen to be Gojo’s wife for reasons that had nothing to do with who you were and everything to do with what your family name represented.

The woman helped you out of bed, her hands gentle as she guided you toward the wardrobe, where she had laid out a simple, elegant kimono. You could feel the delicate silk between your fingers as she draped it over your shoulders, her hands moving with practiced ease as she tied the obi around your waist.

"Do you know what your plans are for today, my lady?" she asked quietly, though there was no judgment in her voice, only politeness.

"I don’t," you admitted, the words feeling heavy. "I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do."

The woman paused for a moment, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders as she adjusted the fabric. "You may not have cursed techniques like the others, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing for you here. The Gojo estate is large, and there are many things to explore if you’d like. The gardens are beautiful, and the library is filled with books from all over the world. You don’t have to…"

Her voice trailed off as though she had realized she was speaking out of turn, but the kindness in her tone remained.

"I don’t have to what?" you asked softly, curious about what she had left unsaid.

"You don’t have to wait around," she finished, her voice gentler now. "You don’t have to wait for someone to tell you what to do. You’re Lady Gojo now, and this is your home too."

The words settled into you, though they felt foreign, like a suit of armor that didn’t quite fit. Could this place ever really be your home? Could you find your own way here, among people who saw you as nothing more than a blind girl married to a man who didn’t care about you?

When the woman finished dressing you, she stepped back, her hands folding neatly in front of her. "Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?"

"No," you replied, your voice soft. "Thank you."

She bowed slightly and left the room, leaving you standing there, dressed but feeling no more ready for the day than you had before.

The silence that filled the room after her departure was thick and suffocating. You could feel the weight of the emptiness pressing down on you, the quietness of the house a stark contrast to the chaotic noise that had filled your mind since the wedding. A part of you wanted to crawl back into bed, to hide under the covers and pretend that none of this was real. But the woman’s words lingered.

You don’t have to wait around.

You had spent your entire life waiting. Waiting for your cursed techniques to appear. Waiting for your family to tell you what your role would be. Waiting for this marriage to happen, knowing it was never really a choice. But now, as much as you felt out of place, there was a flicker of something inside you that wondered if she was right. Maybe there was more to this life than just waiting.

With slow, deliberate movements, you made your way to the door. Your hand found the handle, and you stepped out into the hallway, the quiet of the estate enveloping you. The corridors were long, and though you couldn’t see them, you could feel the vastness of the space around you—the echo of your footsteps against the smooth floors, the subtle shift in the air as you walked.

You didn’t know where you were going, but for the first time since you arrived, it didn’t matter. You just needed to move, to take a step forward, no matter how uncertain.

As you neared a door, the sounds from within grew unmistakable—soft murmurs, the rustle of fabric, and then a quiet, intimate sigh. The knot in your stomach tightened. You already knew what you would find if you dared to push the door open, and yet your feet carried you closer, your heart thundering in your chest as your hand instinctively brushed against the doorframe.

Inside, Gojo’s voice was low, playful, teasing in a way you had never heard from him before. It sent a shiver down your spine—not from the words themselves, but from the realization that this was a side of him he had reserved for someone else.

Through the small gap in the door, you heard her—a soft giggle, followed by a breathy gasp as Gojo’s voice dropped lower, too quiet for you to make out the words. The tone was unmistakable though, thick with seduction, as if he was savoring every moment of this forbidden encounter.

You stepped closer, the barely-there creak of the floor beneath you drowned out by the sounds inside the room. There was no mistaking what was happening now. Her quiet moan was unmistakable, and the soft, wet sound that followed made your breath catch in your throat. Your mind painted a picture you didn’t want to see—Gojo leaning in, his lips pressing against hers with a hunger that had never been directed toward you.

The dull thud of your heart in your ears drowned out almost everything else, but you couldn’t tear yourself away. You shouldn’t have been standing there, listening to your husband making out with another woman, but the pull of the moment kept you frozen in place.

A light gasp escaped her, followed by Gojo’s chuckle, and then you heard him kiss her again—longer this time, deeper. The sound of their lips parting, the soft exhale of pleasure from the woman, filled the room. It was like a physical blow, striking you with a force you hadn’t expected.

It was the kind of kiss you would never have. The kind of affection you would never receive from him.

You had always known it, deep down. Gojo had never promised you anything beyond the formalities of marriage, and you had accepted that, hadn’t you? But standing here, listening to him give someone else the affection you would never know, the truth of it stung in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

You pressed your palm against the cool wood of the doorframe, forcing yourself to breathe through the growing lump in your throat. The walls seemed to close in around you, the air too thick, too heavy. Your body screamed at you to turn away, to walk back to the safety of your solitude, but your feet felt anchored to the spot.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply this hurt, how thoroughly he had already broken the fragile illusion you had tried to build around this marriage. But as you stood there, every tender sound that came from inside the room seemed to chip away at whatever resolve you had left.

Finally, with a deep, shuddering breath, you pulled yourself away from the door. Your movements were slow, deliberate, as if each step was a battle against the weight of your own heart. You wouldn’t stay to hear the rest. You wouldn’t allow yourself to witness any more of Gojo’s betrayal.

Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A betrayal.

It didn’t matter that this marriage had never been built on love, that it had been nothing more than a transaction between two powerful families. You had still given yourself to him, even if only in the way you had been told to, and now, he was giving parts of himself—parts you would never have—to someone else.

As you made your way back down the hall, you forced yourself to hold your head high, your face impassive, though inside, the ache that had started when you overheard their conversation had turned into a deep, gnawing hurt.

You wouldn’t confront him.

But even here, in the peacefulness of the garden, you couldn’t escape the nagging thought in the back of your mind—the knowledge that no matter how far you ran, you would always be trapped in a life that wasn’t yours.

And you weren’t sure if you could ever find a way out.

As you wandered through the garden, the air heavy with the scent of flowers, you couldn’t shake the hollow ache in your chest. The calmness of the space did little to ease the knot that had formed in your stomach, the knowledge of Gojo’s casual betrayal lingering in your mind like a bitter aftertaste. You tried to ignore it, to focus on the sensation of the soft breeze against your skin, but the conversation you had overheard replayed in your head.

And then, as if summoned by your thoughts, you heard his voice.

“Ah, there you are.”

The sound of Gojo’s voice cut through the stillness of the garden, light and casual, as if he hadn’t just been somewhere else, entertaining another woman. You stiffened, your back straightening instinctively, but you didn’t turn toward him. You didn’t need to see him to know that the easy smile was probably plastered across his face, his usual carefree attitude masking whatever true thoughts lay behind those bright blue eyes.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel path, growing closer until you could feel his presence beside you. He stopped, his hands probably in his pockets, his head likely tilted with that insufferable smirk still playing on his lips. The scent of his cologne, sharp and faintly sweet, filled the air around you, overwhelming the natural smell of the flowers.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of casual curiosity. “I figured you’d still be sleeping off yesterday.”

You said nothing for a moment, your hands tightening slightly at your sides as you tried to maintain your composure. The silence stretched between you, and you could feel his gaze on you, even if you couldn’t see it. Finally, you spoke, your voice quiet but steady.

“Just walking,” you replied, your tone cool. “Isn’t that what people do in their own home?”

There was a beat of silence, and you could almost hear the grin spreading wider across his face.

“Right, right,” he said, amusement dancing in his voice. “Our home.”

The way he said the word “our” felt like a mockery, as if the very idea of this being your shared space was some kind of joke. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the wave of frustration that threatened to rise. This was your life now, tied to a man who didn’t care, bound by a duty you hadn’t asked for.

“You’re up early,” you continued, your voice steady but cold. “I thought you’d be… occupied.”

Gojo let out a soft chuckle, the sound low and almost teasing. “Ah, you heard that, huh?”

There was no apology in his tone, no trace of guilt. If anything, he sounded amused, as if the idea of you hearing him with another woman was nothing more than an inconvenience, a slight miscalculation on his part. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your composure.

“What does it matter?” he continued, his voice light and airy, as if this were all some kind of game. “You know what this is. You knew what this would be.”

His words hit you like a slap to the face, and for a moment, the air seemed to still around you. Of course, you had known. This marriage wasn’t built on love or trust; it was an arrangement, a union forged out of necessity and obligation. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with such casual disregard for your feelings, made the reality of it all the more painful.

You turned your head slightly in his direction, though your eyes remained unfocused, your gaze fixed somewhere in the distance.

“I know what this is,” you said softly, your voice carrying a quiet strength. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be so cruel.”

Gojo’s laughter rang out, sharp and biting, and you could feel the shift in his demeanor, his charm slipping just slightly to reveal the edge beneath.

“Cruel?” he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue like a taunt. “This is reality. You’re the one who agreed to this. You knew exactly what you were getting into. You can’t act surprised now.”

Your chest tightened, the frustration and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, of knowing just how deeply his words had cut. Instead, you drew in a steady breath, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you said quietly, the truth hanging between you like a heavy weight. “Neither of us did.”

For a moment, there was silence. You could feel his eyes on you, studying you, perhaps weighing the truth in your words. And then, with a soft exhale, Gojo’s tone shifted again, the sharpness receding as his usual nonchalant air returned.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his voice softer now but still distant, “that’s the way the world works, isn’t it?”

You didn’t respond, the quiet settling between you like a heavy fog. This was the man you had married—Gojo Satoru, the most powerful sorcerer alive, a man who wielded immense strength and influence but saw the world through a lens of detachment and indifference. He lived in a reality where emotions were weaknesses and connections were expendable. And now, you were a part of that world, tethered to him by duty and expectation.

But even as you stood there, feeling the weight of his presence beside you, a small flicker of resolve burned within you. You couldn’t change him, and you couldn’t change the circumstances that had brought you here. But maybe, just maybe, you could carve out something for yourself within this life. Something that wasn’t defined by him or by the expectations of others.

“I’ll leave you to your walk,” Gojo said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ve got things to do.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the distance as he left you standing alone in the garden. The emptiness he left behind was palpable, but you stood there for a long moment, the cool breeze brushing against your skin.

This was your life now—a life filled with silence and distance, with a husband who saw you as nothing more than a convenience, a vessel for an heir.

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