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cloudtransprncy · 4 months ago

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Cheat Code

ITZY Yuna x Male Reader | 5k words Part 1 out of ? Tags: PWP, Blowjob, Size Kink, Cock Worship, Mutual Horny Chaos, 2nd Person POV, Yuna Is Down Catastrophic

She said glasses and earrings were a cheat code—so you tested it. No big deal. Just an experiment. But the second Yuna opens the door, she short-circuits, and next thing you know, she’s on her knees. I guess it works?

The car is parked in your usual spot, tucked away from the main road where the streetlights don’t quite reach. It’s summer.

The air outside warm enough that the windows are cracked just enough to let the night breeze slip through. Chill R&B hums from the speakers, blending into the comfortable silence between you and Yuna.

Yuna’s lounged back, slides kicked off, feet propped up on the dashboard like she owns the place. Her phone screen flashes in quick bursts as she scrolls TikTok, fingers moving lazily while she sips from her boba. Cropped pink tank, low-rise jeans that hang just right, a couple of delicate rings on her fingers—casual but calculated, effortless, she knows she’s hot and she owns it.

You’re half-watching, half-zoned out, fingers drumming absently against your drink. Not thinking about how good she looks. Or trying not to.

Then she speaks, totally unprompted.

“Glasses and earrings are such a fucking cheat code for guys.”

You blink, slow to process. “…Huh?”

She doesn’t even look up from her phone. “Like, if a dude who’s my type pulls up with that? Whip it out already, I’m on my knees.”

You choke on your boba. Cough, nearly die, and have to thump your own chest to recover. “You’re a slut”

Yuna finally spares you a glance, completely serious. “I’m sooo serious. Glasses? Hot. Earrings? Hot. Together? Killy me now. Instant buff.”

You recover, rubbing your throat. “Any guy?”

She scoffs. “Obviously he has to be cute, I’m not gonna suck off some rando that's ugly and gross.”

You stare at her, a mix of disbelief and amusement creeping in.

Yuna shifts, folding a leg under her and turning fully towards you, sitting up. Her tank top rides up just slightly, exposing a sliver of skin, but you don’t look for too long. She leans in like she’s about to tell you the secrets of the universe. “Like, okay, hear me out.”

You sigh, playing along. “K, I’m listening.”

“The glasses just make the guy look smart, but like, not too smart. Unless he’s a nerd, but you get my point.”

“Suuure.”

“The earrings? Hot. Earrings are just hot. Like, I wear earrings. I’m hot.”

You stare at her, unimpressed. “I don’t get it.”

She waves a hand, exasperated. “Like, hot but not too hot, smart but not too smart. ya get me?.”

You squint. “But what if the guy’s ugly?”

She pauses, then scoffs. “See, that’s where it’s tough, ‘cause the buff only works if you’re already cute, ya know? Or like… almost hot.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You saying some guys are almost hot?”

“Yeah, bro, like some guys just need to hit the gym, dress better, get some earrings.”

You just give her a look, telling her you don’t really get it.

Silence lingers for a beat. Then she shrugs, says it so offhandedly you almost don’t catch it. “Like, you’d actually be hot if you tried.”

Your brain stalls. “…What?”

She doesn’t look up, just sips her boba. “You heard me.”

You’re still blinking. “No, repeat that.”

A slow, shit-eating grin spreads across her face. “Nope.”

“That felt personal.”

“It wasn’t. But if you feel attacked…”

You scoff, sitting up slightly. “I literally gym, and you gotta admit I dress nice.”

She finally looks at you, eyes dragging over your plain black tee and gray sweats, unimpressed.

You gesture vaguely. “When I go out.”

She snorts, shaking her head but doesn't disagree. “Yeah, aight.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re basically saying I would be hot if I wasn’t ugly.”

Another shrug. “That’s not what I’m saying, but if that’s what you’re hearing…”

You laugh it off, shake your head, shift the conversation elsewhere. But Yuna? She sits with it, lets the words settle.

The idea is planted.

She doesn’t bring it up again, but it lingers. Her gaze flickers to you when you’re not looking, her teeth pressing lightly into her bottom lip like she’s trying not to think too hard about it. Then, just as quickly, she shakes it off, scrolling her phone with a little too much focus.

A week later…

The drive to Yuna’s place feels normal—same streets, same turn signals, same playlist humming low through your speakers. But today? Today’s different. Today, you’re running a test.

You grip the wheel with one hand, glancing at yourself in the rearview mirror. Glasses on. You always needed them, just never wore them. Now? Gentle Monster frames, clean, sharp. A flex, but a subtle one.

Earrings? Left ear—a small silver star stud. Right ear—a tiny dagger earring. A balance of soft and sharp. Like you weren’t thinking about it, but also? You were.

Your fit? Casual but intentional.

Black compression shirt, snug and sculpting but not obnoxious. Grey wide-leg sweats, laid-back and effortless. Fresh kicks, spotless with no creases.

It’s intentional, but not try-hard. Like you just threw shit on, but somehow, everything fell into place.

You exhale, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel.

Let’s see if she notices.

You knock. A shuffle of footsteps inside. The door swings open.

Yuna stands there, the striped pajama set hugging her tiny waist, sitting snug on her hips, showing just enough skin to be lethal. The fabric stretches over her curves, hinting at the toned stomach underneath, the kind of body that looks soft but still tight in all the right places.

Her red hair falls in messy waves, catching hallway light like she planned the whole damn lighting setup. Even "just hanging at home," her skin glows with that I-woke-up-like-this perfection you know for a fact takes at least three serums to achieve. Light makeup—because of course she wouldn't be completely bare-faced—just enough to make her eyes wider, her lips fuller, slightly glossed and parted in what starts as a greeting but dies somewhere in her throat.

She was expecting movie night. Takeout containers. Stupid debates about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. The usual safe routine.

Instead, she gets you. Version 2.0.

Her entire body freezes. Processing.

Her eyes make a deliberate journey: glasses, earrings—that small hesitation when she notices they're mismatched—down to how your shirt remembers every gym session you've been putting in, lingering just a beat too long where your sweats hang low, then back up to your face with the slow-dawning realization that you've weaponized her own words against her.

She straight-up blue-screens.

Her weight shifts subtly, thighs pressing together like she's trying to create pressure where she suddenly needs it. Her fingers flex at her sides, curling then uncurling like she's physically restraining herself. The sharp inhale is audible—chest rising, lips parting before she catches herself. A full system restart happening in real time.

"What. The. Fuck." It comes out flat, almost accusatory, like you've committed a personal offense.

You can't help the smirk. "What?"

Yuna's eyes narrow, flicking to your earrings again with something dangerously close to hatred—not for the accessories, but for how effectively you've played her. Her jaw works, tension visible as she grinds her teeth. The mental battle is written across her face: pride versus want, restraint versus impulse.

"You're a fucking bitch," she mutters, the words carrying more heat than venom.

Your grin widens, victory sweet on your tongue. "Hmm? Didn't catch that."

No verbal response. Just the sudden, almost violent way her fingers hook into your shirt, yanking you inside before kicking the door shut with enough force to rattle the frame.

Her grip on your wrist is tight—too tight to be casual, not tight enough to hurt. She pulls you down the familiar hallway, the same path you've walked a hundred times before, except now your heart hammers against your ribs like it's trying to escape. This isn't movie-night Yuna leading you to her bedroom to argue about Netflix choices. This is something else entirely.

The words barely form in your mouth before your back hits her mattress, the air rushing from your lungs in a soft "oof." Suddenly everything is different. Same room—same fairy lights strung across her headboard, same pile of clothes heaped on her desk chair, same vague scent of vanilla and something distinctly her—but the air feels electrically charged, dense with potential.

She climbs onto you with feline precision, one knee planted on either side of your thighs, lowering herself with a deliberate slowness that borders on torture. The weight of her settles against you—warm, solid, undeniable. The smirk playing at her lips is both challenge and promise, a silent I told you so mixed with you're going to regret this in the best way possible.

And just like that, the tables turn.

Your earlier confidence dissolves under her gaze. Your breath catches as she studies you like a meal she's about to devour, eyes dragging from your face to your throat, lingering on the pulse point there before traveling lower to where your shirt has ridden up to expose a strip of skin.

Pure instinct drives your hands to her hips, fingers just grazing the warm skin exposed between her top and pajama bottoms—but before you can get a proper grip, she's caught your wrists. One fluid motion and your arms are pinned against the wall above your head, chest exposed, completely at her mercy. Her nails dig just enough into your skin to send a shiver racing down your spine, a silent warning that makes your pulse spike.

"Yuna—" Her name escapes as a whine, embarrassingly breathless.

"Did I say you could touch?" The edge in her voice is new—commanding in a way that makes heat pool low in your stomach.

She leans in close again and you flinch slightly, turning your head, caught off-balance by this sudden shift in dynamic. The predatory smile that spreads across her face tells you exactly what you need to know:

You might have started this game, but she's the one who's going to finish it.

Her grip tightens. "What? You getting nervous?"

And you are. Because you don’t know what she’s gonna do next. Because your hands are pinned down, because she’s taking her time, because she’s in complete control.

"Too late." Her voice is soft as her fingers catch your jaw before you can answer—firm, controlling. She lets it hang there, the weight of her words sinking in before she tilts your face up like she’s testing the weight of you in her hands, deciding whether she wants to break you apart or take her time savoring it.

She doesn’t kiss you yet. Just hovers. Close enough that you can feel her breath—warm, teasing, curling over your lips. Close enough that you can smell her—sweet, like strawberries, something feminine and bright, but dark underneath. Something heady. Something that lingers.

"What..." It slips out soft, almost breathless, escaping before you even realize. You're already leaning in—just slightly, just enough to chase the warmth of her mouth, the phantom touch of lips that still haven’t pressed against yours.

She grins. Pulls back just enough to make you ache for it. Watching, waiting. Letting the moment stretch, letting you need.

Then she finally kisses you—hungry, consuming, impossible to escape. Her lips move like she’s starving, like she’s been waiting for this, for you.

Her hands roam without hesitation, clawing at your shirt, nails scratching lightly before pressing harder, groping, gripping, taking. She grinds down, pressing herself closer, hot, desperate, soaked through.

Her tongue slides against yours, deep, messy, filthy. She tastes like strawberries and something warmer, something intoxicating. She bites your bottom lip, sucking it between her teeth before letting go, leaving you breathless, dizzy.

You manage to get half a word out—something cocky, something desperate—but she just presses her thumb over your lips, silencing you effortlessly. "Shh."

Her smirk is wicked, teasing. "Did I tell you to talk?"

One last kiss—hard, bruising—claiming—before she finally pulls back, pupils blown wide, breath heavy, hot against your lips. Still teasing, still in control.

Her eyes flicker, dark and sharp. She lets the silence stretch, lets you squirm just a little before tilting her head, smirking. And then, finally—

“Whip it out when I tell you to.”

She shifts back, slow and deliberate, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. Legs crossed, arms folded, head tilted slightly—waiting.

“Shirt off.”

You hesitate. Her expression doesn’t change. Just one perfectly raised eyebrow.

You exhale, dragging the fabric over your head, the fabric peeling away from your skin, leaving a fleeting chill before the heat of the room settles over you. The shift makes your muscles tense briefly, instinctively flexing, your lean frame now fully exposed. She doesn’t say anything at first—just watches. Eyes dragging down, slower than usual. She’s seen you shirtless before—at the beach, when you work out together—but this feels... different. More deliberate. More assessing. Like she’s realizing something she hadn’t let herself think about before.

Her fingertips trail over your chest, nails scraping lightly as they move down. Her breathing shifts. Not a full pause, but a subtle inhale, like she’s registering something new.

She barely skims your waistband before stopping. Lips part, but no words come out. Just a beat of silence, her fingers still resting against your skin.

Then, just as quickly, she shakes it off. Moves like she never hesitated. “Pants too.”

You move to pull them down, and her hand shoots out, gripping the fabric at your waist. Stopping you. Holding you there.

She tilts her head. Smirks. “Hmm, one sec.”

She leans down, lips trailing from your chest to your abdomen, slow and deliberate, each press of her mouth sending heat curling low in your stomach. Lower. Lower. Until she’s hovering over your bulge, her breath warm against the fabric, her smirk returning as she glances up at you—waiting, teasing.

“Whip it out.”

You follow her command, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweats and boxers at the same time. You push them down in one slow motion, the fabric dragging over your hips, your thighs, until they pool around your ankles. The cool air hits first, sending a shiver down your spine, your skin prickling in contrast to the heat of her stare. You kick them off, tossing them aside without a second thought.

Your cock, already stiff, springs free, swaying slightly before settling upright.

You expect some kind of reaction, a smirk, a comment, something. But she just sits there. Silent. Taking you in. Making you wait.

Then, the shift.

Her jaw tightens. Barely. Just enough to notice. Her fingers twitch, like she’s resisting the instinct to reach for you. A single exhale slips out—soft, sharp, involuntary.

“...Hah.”

Her thighs press together.

She blinks once, slow, expression still unreadable before she scoffs, voice flat. "You're joking."

It’s not a question. Not disbelief. It’s irritation. Like she’s pissed off that she’s this affected.

Then, before she even registers it, her hand is on you.

Her fingers wrap around the base, testing the weight. Thumb pressing into the ridge, sliding down, measuring. Her grip is firm, not teasing, not soft. Calculating. Then, she swipes her thumb over the tip, smearing the bead of precum across the sensitive skin.

The slick warmth sends a sharp jolt through you, your stomach clenching at the sudden stimulation. A shudder rolls down your spine, hips jerking just slightly—instinctual, involuntary. She hums at the reaction, amused, dragging her thumb back over the head, slower this time, watching you twitch beneath her touch.

"...You’ve been walking around with this the whole time?"

One slow stroke. Deliberate. Frustrated. Her breath hitches for half a second before she exhales through her nose, sharp and controlled. She’s working through something.

Then she moves.

Slow, deliberate, sinking down until her face is level with your cock. She spreads her knees wider, arching her back instinctively, ass lifting behind her as she dips her head down. The motion is fluid, effortless, like she’s done this a hundred times before—but not with you.

Her breath fans over the head, warm, teasing, and fuck, she’s gorgeous. But the way she’s looking at you? The way her lashes flutter as she drags her gaze from the base to the tip, the way her lips part slightly like she’s thinking about something she shouldn’t? Filthy.

Your fingers twitch against the sheets, aching to touch her. To run through her hair, trace over her cheek, press against the plush curve of her lips. But you don’t. You know better.

She tilts her head, lining it up. Comparing.

Her fingers tighten around the base, giving an experimental squeeze, jaw tensing slightly like she’s still processing the math of it all.

She hums, amused. Like she just confirmed something. Her eyes drag from your cock to your frame, mapping out the proportions. She’s smaller, you’re lean, cut where it matters. Her fingers tighten around your thigh—just slightly.

She exhales slow, shaking her head. Testing her own reaction.

“It’s almost annoying.”

A sharp squeeze at the base, like she’s making peace with it.

"You're just big enough to be fucking perfect."

She looks up at you, doesn’t blink. Holds your gaze like she’s daring you to move.

"Look at me."

You do. Try to. But the intensity of her gaze is too much, hungry, piercing, hot. Like she’s devouring every inch of you without even touching. Your body reacts before you can stop it. It’s overwhelming. Too much. You instinctively try to escape it, tilting your head back, but she doesn’t let you.

Her other hand catches your chin, dragging you back down to her. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

Your breath shudders. You swallow hard. She notices. Smirks.

Then—she stops.

She knows exactly what she’s about to do. And she wants you to watch.

Lifting her arms, she gathers up all her hair, twisting it tight, securing it with practiced ease. It’s a ritual, a performance, because she knows you’re looking. And she likes it.

The movement stretches her out, making you take in everything—the pull of her arms, the soft dip of her waist, the sleek curve of her long torso. Cinched. Compact. Fucking perfect. Her neck, her collarbones, the bare skin of her armpits exposed for a fleeting second, all of it framed just for you.

"Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking hot." Your voice slips past you.

She pauses, just for a second. A slow, knowing smirk on her lips as she glances at you.

"I know."

Your fingers twitch, instinct taking over—you reach down, wanting to stroke yourself to the sight of her.

Sharp slap.

Your hand jerks away, stinging. Her eyes flicker up, challenging. Smirking.

"I already told you—keep your hands to yourself."

Then—she leans back down, the same position, same arch. She dips her head low. Her lips purse, and before you can register it, a thick glob of warm saliva drips from her mouth, landing perfectly against the tip. She watches it spread, her thumb smearing it across the sensitive skin, coating you in wet heat before she strokes again—long, slow, deliberate.

She looks up, eyes locking onto yours, smirking like she already knows she's won. "Now sit back and let me enjoy myself."

Then—she sinks lower.

Her red hair spills over your stomach, strands brushing against your skin as she angles herself just right. The dim light catches on the messy waves, glowing warm, wild, untamed. She looks up at you through thick lashes, half-lidded, pupils blown wide, mouth parted just enough to tease you with the heat of her breath.

She’s so fucking close.

But this isn’t about you.

Her fingers wrap around the base, a slow, possessive squeeze, more for herself than for you. She exhales, lips barely parted, watching, taking you in. Her tongue swipes over her own bottom lip as if contemplating a meal she’s about to devour.

Then—she goes for it.

Heat. Wet. The first slide past her lips is tight, hot, an impossible contrast of softness and pressure. Her mouth stretches, lips plush and slick, sealing around you with a perfect, obscene suction. The wet heat of her tongue presses firm against the underside, dragging against every ridge, every pulsing inch, like she’s mapping you out with her mouth. The pressure of her cheeks hollowing pulls a groan straight from your chest before you can bite it back.

It's not careful, not teasing—hungry.

Her nails dig into your thigh as she sinks deeper, her own body reacting, thighs pressing together, chasing the heat curling in her own gut.

She doesn’t slow. Doesn’t drag it out like a game. She’s working herself up with every motion, letting herself indulge.

Another moan, this one softer, needier, and fuck, she’s enjoying this. Her tongue presses against the underside, massaging every inch she swallows. She pulls back, spit slick and glistening, gasping softly before diving back in, sucking harder, deeper.

She flicks her gaze up—not to check on you, but to see how much more she can take.

The wet pop when she pulls off is obscene, spit stretching between her lips and your cock before snapping apart. But she doesn’t wipe it away—you can tell, she likes the mess.

She tilts her head, gaze flicking up to yours, breathless, her lips curling into something between a smirk and frustration.

"Fuck, you taste so good." She mutters, voice wrecked, annoyed at how much she’s into this.

You start to smirk, breath hitching as you mutter, "Damn, you really know how to—"

But you don't get the chance.

She takes you deep mid-word, zero hesitation, lips stretching, throat tightening as she swallows you down in one sudden, slick motion. The shock rips a strangled sound from your throat, something between a gasp and a groan, because fuck, that was unexpected.

It's warm, so fucking tight, her throat flexing around you as she forces herself deeper, nose pressing flush against your groin. The wet grip of her throat clenching around the tip sends heat jolting up your spine, and when she pulls back—slow, torturous—a thick string of spit clings between her lips and your cock, stretching, breaking, dripping down onto her own chin. She watches you, gaze locked, eyes dark, sharp, daring you.

"You talk too much. And I haven't told you to open your mouth."

Her voice is wrecked, breathless, but smug as hell. She grips the base, firm, controlling, and slaps the head against her lips, wet and filthy, smearing spit and precum across them before taking you back in without hesitation—deeper, tighter, longer.

Your thighs tense. Your breath stutters. Toes curl, heat pooling low in your stomach, a wildfire spreading through your limbs. Your hands clench into the sheets because if you touch her now, you're done for.

She hums around you, low, vibrating, because she knows exactly what she’s doing to you.

Then she pulls back, spit-slick and glistening, pausing just long enough for you to feel the absence, to make you ache for it.

You think she’s about to go back in, your breath catches—but she lingers, gaze flicking up, owning the moment, letting the tension coil tighter. Then, slowly, she slaps your cock against her lips once more, her own breath shuddering like she’s just as caught up in this as you are. But this isn’t for you—it’s for her.

She dips lower, tongue dragging down your length, lips wrapping around one ball, sucking slow, wet, indulgent. She pauses for a second, breathing heavy, swallowing like she’s processing how good it tastes, how much she’s enjoying it.

Then she makes a sound—a frustrated groan, muffled, needy, like she’s annoyed by just how good you are in her mouth. Her hand never stops moving, stroking you in time with every pull of her mouth. Then the next, her tongue rolling over the sensitive skin, a soft moan escaping her, sending a jolt straight through your core.

She licks a line back up your shaft, slow, messy, like she’s savoring the weight of you on her tongue.

Your hands twitch against the sheets, fists clenched tight, every muscle in your body strung too fucking tight, resisting the urge to grab her. She notices. She loves it.

She pulls off completely, spit pooling down her chin, tilts her head up at you, lips parted, swollen, smirking.

"Hold my hair up."

Your breath shakes as you comply, fingers threading into her red waves, feeling the silkiness as they slide between your knuckles. You gather them slowly, watching the way they shine under the dim light, then bunch them up tight, pulling them together like a ponytail, holding firm.

She exhales slow, eyes flickering shut for half a second like she’s steeling herself. Then, she looks up at you—hungry, determined.

"Good. Now don’t let go."

The moment you tighten your grip, she moans, low and wrecked, like it’s fueling her. Like she’s been waiting for this.

She takes you back in.

In one go.

There’s no hesitation now. No more teasing. Just her fucking her mouth on you, using your cock like a toy for her own oral fixation.

She goes messy, abrupt, taking you deep with zero breaks, her hands working in sync—one stroking your shaft, the other massaging your balls, slick with spit, wet, filthy, relentless.

She gags. Chokes. Sputters saliva down her chin, but she doesn’t stop—she loves this.

Each time she sinks down, she stays longer, testing her limits, forcing herself deeper, moaning around you, the vibrations traveling straight through your spine. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

She pulls off with a wet, deep, gasp, sucking in air, but her hands never stop moving—stroking, twisting, milking you even as she gasps for breath.

“Shit,” she pants, her voice wrecked, her lips swollen, glistening with spit.

Her grip tightens, both hands now working together, slick and dripping, saliva coating every inch. She strokes faster, twisting her wrists, making a fucking mess of you, her mouth hovering just inches away, lips parted, panting.

Your whole body is tight, legs folding in slightly, toes curling, arms flexing involuntarily around the grip in her hair. The pleasure is too much, too fucking good, overwhelming, and if she wasn’t in complete control, you’d be thrusting up into her mouth, chasing the heat, the pressure. But she’s already forcing herself deep, hitting the back of her throat for you. No, for herself, taking what she wants.

Your grip on her hair loosens.

She notices.

She fucking notices.

Her lashes flutter up, eyes glazed, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed—completely cock-drunk—and she lets out the softest, filthiest little whine, like she doesn’t want you to stop her. Like she needs this. More of this.

Your fingers clench, regaining control, and you hold her still.

Her moan shatters through you.

It’s wrecked, vibrating along your length as she hollows her cheeks again and sucks. Hard.

And then—she goes feral.

She spits again, a thick glob dripping onto the head, smearing it in with her tongue before slapping your cock against her lips, her cheek, the curve of her jaw. Then she leans in, sucking and slurping her own saliva back up from your cock and groin, her tongue dragging slow and deliberate—only to sputter it back down again, wetter, filthier.

The slick warmth trickles lower, dripping under your balls, pooling there as her fingers smear it across your skin like she never wants to waste a single drop. She’s moaning the entire time, whimpering under her breath, her own body tensing, thighs pressing together, like she’s getting off on the sheer act of ruining herself.

Her tongue flicks out, lapping at the sensitive tip before flattening against it, rubbing it against her slick, spit-drenched muscle like she wants to taste every inch.

Her hand never stops moving—stroking, twisting, pumping, both hands working together now, slick and dripping, her fingers sliding with ease from how fucking wet everything is.

She’s not thinking anymore.

She’s just moving, sucking, licking, moaning, lost in it. She’s devouring you.

She sinks back down, deeper, until she’s gagging again, nose flush, throat spasming. She pulls off just to spit again, rubs her own mess into your shaft with both hands before swallowing you back down like she missed it.

She stays down longer each time.

Testing her limits. Pushing past them. Letting them break.

She pulls off with a wrecked gasp, drool dripping off her chin, her hands still stroking you frantically, like she can’t stop. Like she won’t stop.

“Fuck—” Her voice is raw, strained, needy. Her lips glisten, her cheeks are damp with spit, ruined.

Next, she slaps your cock against her tongue again, holding it there, eyes locked on yours, lips parted, panting.

Waiting.

Wanting.

She flicks her tongue once. Then again.

Your whole body tenses, a choked moan ripping out of your throat before you can swallow it down. She notices instantly, smirking, lips flushed and glistening.

"Gonna cum for me?" Her voice is low, wrecked, teasing. "Gonna fill up my mouth?"

She doesn’t give you a chance to answer. She’s back down, and you know it wont be long.

She sinks down, deeper than before—deeper than you thought she could go.

Her throat tightens, a hot, slick vice around you, lips stretched wide, nose flush against your skin. She stays there, like she’s proving something, forcing herself to take it all.

Your body shakes. A helpless, broken noise tears from your throat, your fingers twisting tighter in her hair. Your entire body is locked up, muscles taut, overwhelmed, unable to do anything but take what she’s giving you.

She swallows around you—tight, pulsing—milking you. The suction drives you insane, your mind foggy with nothing but her heat, her wetness, the way she’s owning you with her mouth. Your stomach clenches, your toes curl, thighs shaking. The heat in your gut is unbearable, climbing too fast, too much—

And then—she pulls off.

Not all the way. Just enough to drag her lips, tongue, teeth back up, slow, deliberate, before sinking back down just as deep.

She does it again.

Slow. Controlled. Absolutely ruining you.

Her hands are still working—one stroking your length, the other massaging your balls, her slick fingers pressing, squeezing, keeping you so fucking close but not letting you fall.

This time, she pulls off completely.

Your cock twitches in the open air, aching, drenched in her spit, glistening under the dim light. The sudden absence is unbearable, like she just took the world’s best heat away from you.

And then—she stops everything.

Her grip loosens. Her mouth lingers inches away.

Nothing.

You make a noise—desperate, strained. Your fingers clench, stomach tight, chest rising too fast.

She tilts her head, mocking, daring, teasing. Lips swollen, cheeks flushed.

"Say it."

Your breath stutters. She’s watching you unravel, watching you need.

You hesitate.

Her fingers go completely still.

The absence is unbearable. The loss of heat, friction, her—everything.

She waits. Just waits.

Eyes locked on you, lips parted, not moving until she hears what she wants.

“You wanna cum or not?”

Her voice is wrecked, low, filthy—and so fucking amused. Like she already knows.

Your jaw locks, but your body betrays you.

“Yuna, please—I'm so close” It rips out of you, barely a whisper, shaky, ruined.

Her eyes spark. She grins.

She giggles. It’s horny, evil, delighted.

And with that, she dives back in.

Messy. Unforgiving.

Her mouth works you over, fast, relentless, sucking hard like she’s dragging the orgasm out of you. Her cheeks hollow, tongue pressing firm, head bobbing fast, sloppy, wrecking you.

Her hands won’t stop moving—both of them now, stroking, twisting, pumping, slick and filthy, drenched in her spit.

She pulls off just to spit directly onto your tip, spreading it with her tongue, letting the mess drip down your shaft, pooling at your base.

She goes back down, faster, tongue swirling, throat flexing, each motion more desperate, more demanding. The sounds she’s making—filthy, obscene, completely unashamed.

You can’t stop it.

Your hips jerk, thighs flex, toes curl, fingers pull tight in her hair.

And then—your whole body locks up.

It hits like lightning, brutal, full-body, overwhelming.

You moan—loud, wrecked, shaking.

She pulls off at the last second, her tongue stretched out, eyes locked on you, stroking you fast as you cum hard all over her tongue and inside her mouth.

Spurts of thick white streak across her tongue, her lips, pooling where she wants it.

She stays there, mouth open, holding it, letting you see it.

Then—she closes her mouth and swallows.

A loud, filthy gulp.

Like she was made for this.

She stays between your legs a moment longer, tongue flicking slow, deliberate, dragging over every inch of sensitive skin as she cleans you up, savoring it. Her lips press one last time to the tip, a lazy, lingering kiss, before she finally—finally—pulls away, her breath still hot and damp against your stomach.

She doesn’t hurry.

She stretches, rolling her shoulders like she just wrapped up a workout, sighing like she’s completely satisfied, her fingers pressing briefly into your thighs as she pushes herself up. She moves like she owns the space, like she just conquered something.

Without another word, she crawls up towards you. One hand grabs your chin, tilting your face up, making sure you’re looking at her.

She’s still wrecked, ruined—her lips glossy, chin damp, pupils dark and dripping with smug satisfaction.

"You're never taking those glasses off again."

Her other hand moves, fingers slipping up to the bridge of your glasses, pushing them back into place with the laziest, most condescending adjustment.

Like she just did fucking community service.

You’re still panting, your limbs heavy, your chest still rising too fast. And yet—a realization grips you.

You just unleashed something.

Something feral. Something dangerous.

She grins, tilting her head like she knows exactly what you’re thinking.

And then—she giggles.

That same horny, delighted, evil little giggle from before.

Like she’s already thinking about the next time she ruins you.

End.

----------------

AN: Finally got through this one and can check it off. I'm currently starting a new piece, one of my longer ones so it might be a while until its posted. Ill try my best to fill the next few days with more shorter moments like this one, but I really wanna focus on my longer fics with more depth. As always, room for part 2 with this.

#male reader #kpop smut #cloudtrnsprncy #cloudtsmut #itzy yuna #shin yuna #shin yuna smut #shin yuna x male reader #yuna x male reader

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itsscaredycat · 9 months ago

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ah yes…

my thoughts under the cut (turned out to be longer than initially intended lol)

honestly, kinda mixed feelings :’)

it’s great that the fandom is making a comeback because gravity falls is seriously an amazing piece of media, and all the offshoots that came from the main series are equally incredible. it deserves this second wave of attention and more! still one of my favourites, all the mysteries and secret codes back in the day changed my brain chemistry lmao

as far as personal feelings go, i can’t believe the amount of people i’ve had tell me that i inspired them in some way to be an artist through my old gravity falls art, it’s amazing! and i am so flattered and happy that i could have that kind of positive influence on people. art is my passion and knowing i had a hand in making it other people’s as well is a really cool feeling :’) i read every single message i get in my askbox and some of them have made me legitimately emotional (in a good way)

but then on the opposite side, there are a lot of people— most of whom i have never interacted with— who have a fully formed opinion on me based on actions of mine that are almost a decade old. just knowing that has been crippling, i’m ND and i’ve always struggled with anxiety issues surrounding how others think of me. it feels kinda hopeless and scary, because there is no way my current actions and the ways i’ve changed will ever reach all of them. but i’m only human, all i can do is focus on the positive and keep being kind in both my offline and online lives, and hope it comes back around

the shy part of me wishes i was just another person in the fandom so that i could share my art without fear of hateful comments, but also having made enough of an impact that something i made got acknowledged in “canon” is hilarious and pretty fucking cool (shoutout to @valdevia LOL) i’m just gonna keep doing what i’ve always done: make art because it makes me happy, and share it in hopes it will make others happy too 🩷

#i’ve had a few weeks to marinate #tldr im happy and grateful for the support i’ve gotten lately <3 #i’m not very good at articulating my feelings in words i’m sorry #i tried my best

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bluetooththereptile · 3 months ago

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The other family

(Yandere batfamily x reader) (Coraline coded au)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

This fic was inspired by this post.

Note: I've loosely based this on Wika by Olivier ledriot and tales of Bogymen taking abused and neglected children away to punish the parents.

Tw: yandere tendencies, child neglect, horror?

The sound of the crickets outside your open window was mixed with the distant noises of the fan in your room working to help with the heat that had haunted Wayne Manor for a week now, the heat wave that had hit Gotham a few days ago was unbearable, even during the nights. You tossed around in your bed, refusing to let go of the green dragon plushie that had been your loyal companion for your days at daycare. You looked into its faded eyes because of rough use and a pout came to your lips, maybe you should take Hamlet with you, yeah, the other mom would allow it right?

You had spent your days enjoying your slushies, and milkshakes, playing video games, and rolling on the cool sheets of your bed, but whatever you did you found yourself slowly losing your patience, they had said you could go back to them every weekend so where was the other cat? You poked your head out of your bedroom now and then to catch a glimpse of its white fluffy fur but it was nowhere to be seen in the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on.

Trying to pass the time you snuck out of your room to take another ice cream from the freezer, maybe its taste would calm your nerves, you were supposed to be asleep by nine pm but you knew you had to stay awake until midnight for the other cat to come and find you, it was it's routine by now even if it meant you'd get scolded by Alfred, the only person that cared for your sleep schedule, it was worth it!

You walked past the empty rooms of Others who had gone to patrol that night, your feet made little noise as you walked past the rooms one by one, turning past the corners to get to the main staircase of the Manor, you glanced at the few doors you could recognize in the dim light, holding hamlet closer to your chest as you walked past Dick's guest room, he always said he'd be there for you, but you couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to talk to you like he did with others, maybe it was because he was too old for you? But he always told others that he didn't care about that. You couldn't comprehend why you were invisible to your oldest sibling.

You walked past Tim's room as well before poking your head to the corner that lead to the room Mom and Dad shared, you padded closer, peaking in with curiosity through the ajar door to see your mom sitting behind her vanity desk, lazily filing her nails as she talked to her phone. Her back facing the door. She had put on her usual hair curling rolls, the sound of her soft chuckles in the air as she spoke with her friend. Mom never laughed like that when she was with you or Dad, unless she was shopping, maybe she liked buying gifts for herself so that was why she was happy shopping? You loved gifts too!

"Yeah I don't know, Bruce is getting rather boring, to be honest" Selina sighed as she leaned back in her seat, putting her slender legs up on the low-level vanity, "yeah, good thing I've dragged on the engagement, imagine I bite the trap" She snorted as she filed her forefinger, "Y/N?" You tensed at hearing your name "I'm not sure about the kid, I mean I never wanted a child to begin with but now that I'm strapped to a grown-up toddler what else can I do but stay? I don't know maybe I give up the custody to Bruce or something like that, you know me, I'm not for the domestic life"

Hearing your mom say those things was both confusing and sad, you didn't understand why mom didn't love dad, dad loved her so much! To the point that he always made sure to call her every day! Dad rarely called to the daycare to talk with you, unless he wanted to say happy birthday or something like that since rarely came home at night, Alfred would pick you up or send someone trusted to take you back home, but Dad made sure to take Mom everywhere himself! Plus if mom didn't like you why did she give birth to you? Were you unwanted?

You clutched Hamlet to your chest and buried your face into its fur as you walked passed the door towards the kitchen. Maybe you would take a bag of snacks with the ice cream, yeah eating always soothed you. Getting down the stairs you walked inside the kitchen, sneaking in to open the door of the double freezer only to be stopped by Alfred who gave you a knowing look, making you freeze as you sheepishly looked up.

"I just wanted a chocolate ice cream, it's too hot in my room," you said trying to give your best puppy eyes look, the older man put his hands on his hips giving you a scolding look in return "Too much dairy makes your stomach hurt, remember?" He spoke, his voice firm but not harsh, you pouted as you held the handle of the freezer's door "Please just tonight? I've been good today" you pleaded, Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he gave in and handed you a small tub of ice cream with a spoon. "Just be careful to not spill it alright?" He spoke softly, his eyes saddening a little as he watched your small smile, you rarely smiled these days.

You walked out of the kitchen, holding the cold tub in your hand before you froze at the sight of the white feline at the end of the hall, looking at you expectantly, the tub and the spoon fell from your hand as if you were under a spell and you enthusiastically followed the cat, eyes wide with excitement "Alfred!" You called in a hushed tone to the other cat who was sitting patiently for you, its crimson eyes blinking softly as its long tail swished about, Damian's cat Alfred never liked you for some reason, but this one loved being around you purring as it came to your vicinity.

"Hello, kitty kitty!" You bent down to pet the fluffy creature who arched its back to your touch, lovingly rubbing against your legs, gently kneading your slippers. The soft "mrrp" sound of the cat made you smile more, searching under its chin. "Good kitty!" You cooed, before giggling softly as the cat licked your fingers gently, rubbing its head to your fingers to make you pet it a little more, purring a storm.

After the cat had its fair share of your attention it turned around and padded away before turning back to look at you as if to say "What are you waiting for? Follow me!" You followed the feline creature with a big smile on your lips, walking through hallway after hallway, not noticing the walls and temperature shifting as the other cat guided you to another world. It was your weekly routine now.

It soon turned too cold as you walked deeper into the hallways and you started to shiver, holding Hamlet even closer as you finally walked through a single door at the end of the hallway you were at, entering the entrance hall of the Wayne Manor again, where you had started your journey with the other cat, but the coldness of the air and the eerie lights of the lamps and candles gave you the signs that you were at the Other Side.

You looked around squealing with joy at the sight of the other Alfred who held a large blanket for you, standing by a large chair close to the light fireplace greeted you with a warm smile, chuckling as you ran to him, opening his arms before snugging you in the warm blanket in his hands. He gently wrapped you up fully, putting you on the chair to warm you up. He hummed a soft song under his breath, making you giggle as he wiped your face with a warm towel he had nearby. The other Alfred rarely spoke for some reason.

"My baby!" The other mom called for you loudly, making your head snap up and you nearly fell from your seat from excitement at the sight of her in a comfortable set of clothes, so much different than what your mom used to wear, making you feel uncomfortable even if she was at home with you. "Mo-!" Before you could say anything you were in other mom's arms, showered with her kisses. "Oh, my baby! How I've missed you!" She kept kissing your now rosy cheeks, giggling with you as she held you close. She smelt of lilacs, and she was even more beautiful than your own mom, her silvery eyes were warm, just like her smile. She didn't wear too much makeup that would cake on your skin like whenever your own mom kissed you. Her skin was soft and her unpainted lips were always smiling, making your little heart flutter.

You let out a soft squeak when you felt more pressure around you, sneaking a peak from the other mom's embrace to see the other dad holding both you and the other mom, smiling warmly. "How have you been my sweetling?" The other dad's voice was deeper and he had the same silver eyes as the others on the other side. You felt your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling. A loud laugh left you as the other dad tickled you through the blanket, the couple chuckling at the sight of your joy. The other dad was always home when you were visiting the other side, even if others were on patrol he was there, he still loved the other mother just like your dad did, but the other also loved...you.

The other dad held you two for a long time, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away just like the first time you did when you had gotten into the other side. Which had become a side joke with your other family. "You need a good bath and new clothes before dinner" The other mom hummed as she sniffed your hair, her comment finally breaking the hold of the hug around you.

The other dad picked you up without a struggle, making you giggle "Daddy!" You called, making a soft shuddering breath leave his lips at the way you called him that, you had started opening up to the couple and it filled them with joy, you had heard the other Alfred and the other Dick discuss this before, apparently, the other mom and dad were depressed for a long, long time. You couldn't see how the other mom put her hand over her mouth as she nearly teared up at the way you called the other Bruce that. "Again" the other dad whispered "hm?" You tilted your head to the side, holding Hamlet with your hand as the other held onto the other dad's shoulder "Call me again" the other dad insisted, and you smiled as you called him again "Daddy!", he closed his eyes as he buried his face into your hair for a whole minute, his board shoulders tense as he tried to hold back his tears, his baby was alive again, alive!

The other dad took you to your other room filled with everything you liked after he had come to his senses, the other mom had made sure to decorate your room to your tastes and had even changed the wallpaper three times for you. The fireplace there was on, and the bathroom was already filled with steam coming off of the glistening marble bathtub there, when you got close to the bathroom you curiously looked at the bubbles in the air, gasping. You had never seen a bathbomb make bubbles! "Bubbles!" You squealed in joy as you popped one, making the other dad's smile widen. He kissed your forehead before he put you down gently, the other mom undressed you carefully, and then she shooed her husband away when she started to take off your underwear "It's a private moment with me and my baby!" She had said, making the other dad groan. You jumped on your feet as the cold air hit you, making the other mom coo as she picked you up by your sides "It's okay! It's okay!" She then lowered you into the warm water, watching with satisfaction as your body eased down.

The other dad left the bathroom as the other mom washed you, soothingly wiping the dried sweat off you with a soft loofah. You had never been washed like this before, sure Alfred washed you nearly daily or you'd manage to shilishali your way in a shower, but it wasn't as enjoyable as this one. The other mom would coo and softly praise you for heeding her gentle orders to put your arms up, holding her hand over your eyes as she poured water on your hair, making goofy hairstyles with you as you watched yourself in the mirror at the other side of the bathroom. Your giggles filling the air, ignorant of the snow falling outside.

After washing you up the other mom carefully rinsed you, drying you up before she gently put soothing lotion on the soles of your feet and your knees that you had scrapped after a rough play at daycare. You loved seeing the other mom dote on you and pamper you like no other. She even made sure to dry your ear canals, making you scrunch up your nose as she hit a spot while drying up your left ear "It was itchy wasn't it?" She asked, chuckling as you nodded. The other mom laughed a lot with you, and you never grew tired of it. Her voice was like an angel's always making you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

The other mom dried your hair with a blow dryer, brushing it carefully before putting on a pair of very cozy and warm pajamas for you. "But Mommy I shouldn't wear pajamas to dinner!" You said, confused "Mommy makes the rules and you can wear whatever you want to dinner" She booped your nose after that, She then gave Hamlet back to you before putting on your fuzzy socks. You wiggled your toes to watch the googly eyes of the bears on your socks move, oh how much you had begged your mom to buy you those cute socks but she hadn't, calling them too silly.

The other mom held you as she walked to the dining room and by the moment she opened the door others burst into energy and mirth at the sight of you, Everyone was there, even the other Damian was smiling! Speaking of your other brother he was quick to rush towards you and hug you tightly after the other mom put you down, Damian never hugged you like this, even if he said he was your older brother, him saying that always rang hollow, but with the other Damian? Oh, it was something else!

Damian held your hand as he guided you to your seat and helped you sit on it, petting your head and Hamlet's. The other mom sat at your left side and the other Damian sat at the right, and as others spoke with each other the other mom put a napkin on your lap and neatly snug one on your collar and chest before she put a spoon full of your favorite stew in your mouth, and you ate with enthusiasm. Chewing the savory roast with both your cheeks full.

The other dad smiled leaning on his elbow as he watched you eat, putting his hand on the other mom's shoulder as she put spoonful after spoonful into your mouth, his eyes soft and full of love for you. You still remembered the first time you had met him, his face was of shock and confusion "Angel?" He had called you but you had meekly mumbled out your name, making him gasp and speak of something along the lines of "Our prayers were answered, glory to Balor!" Who was Balor? No one answered you that.

The other mom was so kind, dabbing napkins on your mouth if a bit of food smeared the corners of it, watching you chew and swallow before putting another spoon of the hearty stew, giving you the juiciest cuts of meat that melted into your mouth. You scrunched up your nose again at her as you tasted a tangy bit, making her giggle "It's alright sweetie, just try to swallow it" and you did with slight difficulty. "Good job!" She clapped her hands together, the ring on her finger shining. The other mom had married the other dad, unlike your mom who seemed to hate that.

You noticed the small dark tint to her nails, her nails had started to darken more and more since the first time you had met, maybe she liked black nail polish? Your mom put on some now and then, but your mind couldn't see how she had grown taller at each visit, oh how her actions had turned more and more clingy, you weren't privy to her tearful night with her mate, when she'd hiss and growl as she shredded the body of another child by the alter of Balor, begging him to give her a chance of a sacrificial ceremony, to which the being had agreed to. Her lost child was coming back home once more.

Your gaze looked around as the other mom put a piece of bread for you to munch on in your hands as Hamlet sat on your lap. You noticed Dick, smiling at him as your memories with him flooded your mind. Even if the other Dick was busy speaking with the other Jason but he still waved to you every time you looked at him, as if he could sense your gaze.

You noticed the other Jason waving your way as well "Nice plushie" he commented, making you hold up Hamlet proudly "Ooh very nice!" The other Jason was so much kinder than the Jason you were used to, he would pick you up and tickle you, blowing raspberries on your belly and smile whenever you talked to him, even if you still could see the pain in his eyes he made sure to dote on you, playing with you and Hamlet.

The other Tim was busy eating his food, but he gave you glances, each time smiling as your eyes met, he had insisted on reading you books when you took naps at the other side since the very first time, though it had turned into more a rivalry with him and the other mom and the other Damian to take turns tucking you in.

The other Damian held your hand as he ate his food in silence, gently squeezing your hand every so often, offering his piece of food as if to mimic the other mom "Damian you know my baby gets stomachaches if you give your baby sibling too much dairy" She gently reminded the other Damian who with a loud "Hmph" took his spoon away from your mouth, making you pout. "It's okay sweetie, I'm just looking out for you" She chuckled as she pinched your nose gently.

The other Duke and Cass were nowhere to be seen, maybe they were on patrol that night, but you missed Cass's warm hugs and Duke's play times as you and him made pillow forts, having the other dad and Damian force siege onto it.

Everyone was happy, you were happy, and blissfully...ignorant. Maybe it was for the better as the other Alfred once had said to the couple "Let the child be oblivious to everything happening, it helps the transition to proceed smoother, stress and anxiety affect a child's choice."

It all had started with the bridge between the parallel worlds becoming thin when you had passed into a door during a restless night, entering a darker version of the world you lived in that was shrouded in perpetual night and winter, where the dark fae resided. You didn't know every human alive had a fae double living their own life on the other side, that was why you didn't know your own double had been long dead at the hands of the other joker, and how much your other family were overjoyed to find you there. And the other Selina, became obsessed with the idea of taking her child back by any means possible.

"It is against the rules" the other Bruce had said as his wife suggested the idea of taking you into the fold of the kin residing on the other side, but she had reminded him "They don't want the poor thing! We can give the sweet angel the love a child like the little one deserves! Look how eagerly the child clings to you! The child needs us, my love, the child needs me!" And that was when the family decided on setting a plan to turn your weekly visits, into a permanent stay.

"Sweetie" the other mom called for you" Everyone quieted down as they realized the moment of truth was going to happen "Do you want to stay with us?" The other mom asked softly as she rubbed your back "I'd love to stay the night Mommy!" You answered, making Alfred smile at your blissful innocence "No sweet baby, I mean do you like to stay with us forever?" The other father chimed in and you frowned as you tried to think. The other mom bit her lip nervously, maybe it was too early for her to suggest it? The couple watched anxiously as you tried to think about your decision "If I agree, I will be with mommy and daddy forever?" "Forever sweetie, and we won't leave you, ever" the other mom cooed, holding your hand as Hamlet fell onto the ground. "We will have lots of fun, mommy will be your best friend, and Daddy and others will play with you nonstop!" You smiled at the thought of it, melting the dark hearts of the fae sitting around the table. "Yes, mommy!" You agreed, and upon that, the mood shifted.

At hearing that the lights turned a greenish hue, as if on cue, and everyone seemed to grow taller and taller as your own body turned heavy, the illusion magic was wearing off and yet the couple was surprised to see you weren't panicking. "I'm sleepy Mommy" you mumbled with a soft yawn, and the female fae cooed softly at hearing that "It's alright sweetling, mommy will make sure to tuck you in" She reached out and picked up Hamlet from the ground, the plushie morphing into a grotesque figure of a dragon in her clawed hands before she tucked the toy in your arms. Your eyelids grew heavier as you sunk into the large seat behind the table, not noticing how everyone stood up from their seats, bowing to the haunting shadow appearing in the room.

A hissing voice spoke in a language you didn't know, and the female fae picked you up, holding you by the back of your knees and shoulders, passing you into the massive bony arms of the God of the dark elves, Balor, who wrapped you in its tangible shadowy form "Do not worry for the babe, rest this night my children, for tomorrow we will rejoice for a fae, reborn."

Your eyes closed as you slipped into a peaceful slumber. Before you found yourself in a bed of flowers, lying beside an angelic man in a lush garden. "Shush my child, sleep" the man soothed you "Birth will be painful" he murmured, gently tapping your chest as he lulled you into rest in your dream before the emergence of another life. "Your parents are waiting for you" he whispered in your ear with a warm voice, and then, your mortal heart stopped in his arms, your soul leaving your body that would soon the body of the many children in the garden of Balor, to land into the carefully preserved one of the sweetling of the other family of yours.

Born anew, in bliss and pain.

It took three days for everyone to notice you were gone, without a trace, nothing was lost but you and your favorite plushie, leaving your parents forever haunted by the memories of the child they took for granted.

Tags: @craulo13 @gaozorous-rex-blog @090909yh @demonprodegy @marise-eternal @jersules @goodsoup19 @candlejuice @worshipcoffee @geniegirlrocks @ghostgangleader @obsessedwithromance @theblacksirenofwinter2004 @ranshin03 @prettyboys247 @kinuraoj @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @legendarylearner18

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yes-no-maybe-soo · 4 months ago

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I miss main story Sylus so much (;_;)

Don't get me wrong I adore memory Sylus. Soft!Sylus is everything to me. But I have to admit that I really want to see more of the other equally valid and real side of him as well. That being the rough, morally grey crimelord we see during Long Awaited Revelry and in his Anecdote. Apart from Sylus on the job being hot as hell, there is so much about him and his motivations that we don't know yet and that I'm dying to find out.

I will also freely admit that a huge part of the reason for why I fell for Sylus and why he still has me in a chokehold is his complexity, his duality. I like that he is neither devil nor saint. Neither black nor white. Neither red flag nor forest full of green. He is so much more multifaceted and layered. He has real tangible flaws, and is certainly not a harmless cinnamon roll. He is a loverboy, yes, but equally a dangerous criminal whose hands have and will continue to kill others. And this duality is what makes him a great character in my eyes.

Hell, as much as it hurts me to witness, I like that he monumentally fucked up his initial meeting with present MC. And the narrative is very clear on this — his actions towards MC were wrong. He was forceful. He was cruel. Let's not sugarcoat this. Sure, us players know why he went about doing it the way he did and we feel bad for him as a consequence, but that doesn't make what he did in any way right or justifiable. MC was right to feel fear and disgust, and she would've been fully justified in never forgiving him imo. And honestly, I think Sylus would agree. He realizes just how badly he screwed things up, even if it took the harsh but true wake-up call from the shopkeeper to bring him to this realization. And it's a hugely important moment, both for him as a character and for his relationship with MC. Afterwards, he puts in the conscious effort to do better. To be better for her. To make things right. To me, this decision and commitment of his wouldn't have hit nearly as hard or been as meaningful if his prior actions hadn't been what they were. They proved that he is capable of real self reflection and growth. It's a massively important moment in their relationship.

The rocky start to their relationship also makes cards like Razor's Dance so impactful. Same with Goodcat Code and some phone calls and interactions where Sylus' fears and insecurities regarding MC's feelings toward him shine through. With the context of his behavior in LAR, it's completely understandable for him to have these fears. He knows he fucked up. Had he been a cinnamon roll made up of purely green flags, neither his feelings nor MC's would have made sense. Nor would MC's eventual forgiveness, and ability to once more see in him what others cannot, be near as powerful.

I don't know, am I making any sense with this or am I just rambling lol 😅

My point is that I love and appreciate all sides of Sylus. Both good and bad. It's what makes him him. And I would no more want to trade or give up main story Sylus than I would memory Sylus. I want big bad ruthless boss of Onychinus just as much as I want soft loverboy Sylus. They are equally important to Sylus' character. He wouldn't be himself without either. It's a package deal.

Perfect/flawless characters bore me. If Sylus were simply soft and green through and through, I would've lost interest. Honestly, I most likely wouldn't have downloaded the game to begin with. It was the danger mixed in with the comfort that drew me in.

It's like a friend and I have discussed many times — the fact that the hands that have wrought violence and death upon countless people are the very same ones that touch his beloved with such reverence and tenderness, is incredibly hot. Duality ftw.

So needless to say I am waiting with baited breath for the day when we will finally see main story Sylus again. Or for that matter, just a memory of Sylus in boss of Onychinus mode.

🐉❤️ 🐦‍⬛

#sylus #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus lads #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x mc #sylusmc #lads #love and deepspace

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brokenengene · 13 days ago

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not safe for work {track one}

pairing: producer! jay x pop star! fem reader

genre: american music industry au, romance, urban contemporary, coming of age/self-discovery

summary: Just one take. That's all your new producer asks of you. Each harmony that leaves your lips brings you closer to a line you shouldn't cross. Soon, he's not just hearing your voice on the demos; it's in his ear, moaning his name. And both of you know that actions always come with consequences.

This content is only for readers 18+

content warnings: cursing, mention of drugs (weed), making out/kissing, explicit sexual content, suggestive content, toxic work environment, exploitation in the music industry, mild objectification, manipulative behavior, mild angst, alcohol usage

chapter specific warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, mirror play, voyeuristic undertones, praise kink, soft!dom jay, protected sex (yay!), strong language, emotional vulnerability, crying during sex, anxiety/self doubt/insecurity, aftercare (double yay!), brief mention of cheating

word count: 9.9k

soundtrack: muse-partynextdoor/ come thru- summer walker & usher/ talk 2 u- brent faiyaz

'demo_01 : not by your side'

Ever since you were a little girl, it was your dream to be on stage. Whether it was open mic karaoke or your middle school theater production, you always had to be dragged away from the microphone. Music was your everything.

It was more than just an escape for you. It healed. But now it feels like it could be the very thing that breaks you apart.

The city is vibrant and bustling like always. The vivid lights mix with the sound of cars rushing through the vast center of the city. That's what you loved so much about it, the city was awake at night and so were you. You thrived on that. From years of experience, you know the best ideas come to you at night.

You check your wristwatch for the time as you drive and weave your car through the narrow city streets. 11 pm it reads.

You turn up the radio and crack the windows, the faint smell of weed hits your senses as you navigate through the chaos. The studio isn’t far from your condo, but you always take the long route to fit more songs into your commute.

You turn right off the main road and into the parking garage of the studio. You back your car into your designated parking spot and take the elevator up.

Your younger self wouldn't believe you were here. Keycard access, your name on the door with your own equipment inside.

With habit, you make your way through the building's security screening. The skyscraper is massive, with floors upon floors of rehearsal rooms, recording studios, and offices.

You take the elevator to the 10th floor labeled “Dreamscape Records” You step out of the elevator and stop by a large window, briefly peering at the lively city beneath you.

You walk through the dimly lit and near-empty halls. Hardly anyone comes to the studio at this hour, but you prefer it that way. Less distraction, less noise.

You step in front of a door labeled with your name. You punch in the four-digit code on the door before pushing it open. Your backpack falls to the ground as you swiftly turn on the lamps scattered around your dedicated space, anything besides those overhead fluorescent lights that are sure to give you a headache.

With a sigh, you lie back in your chair. You take out your laptop and notebook and set them up on the table next to all your new equipment. You open the notebook, scribbling a few more tasks onto your never-ending to-do list.

Since being under contract with Dreamscape Records, singing hasn’t been the same. It's all deadlines, shitty producers, overbearing managers. It's like you never have time to just be you anymore. Some days it feels like you're always performing, and creating for the charts, not for your own heart.

But this is what you wanted, what you dreamed of, and you are determined to make it work for your own sake.

Your phone buzzes as a notification illuminates the screen. You glance at it, opening the text.

Luke (manager) [11:30 pm] Are you going to be at the studio tonight? You[11:31 pm] Yes, I'm probably gonna be here a few more hours. You know my work always comes out better with no distractions. Luke(manager)[11:32 pm] I know this is short notice, but that new producer we talked about just landed, he’s blowing up my phone, itching to get working already. I told him he could stop by and meet you. His name is Jay Park, you might not have heard of him before, but his work is incredible, y’all will hopefully make a good team. You[11:35 pm] Thanks for the heads up. I'll keep an eye out for when he comes around. Luke(manager)[11:36 pm] No worries. Don’t stay up too late. We'll talk more tomorrow.

You let out a deep sigh as you lock your phone. The black screen reflects your stressed appearance right back at you.

Jay Park, you repeat to yourself. Doesn't ring a bell, but you can't tell if his dedication to get straight to work is admirable or if he's got a really big ego like the other men in this industry.

You open up your notebook. It's a mixed-up mess of journal entries, lyrics, and anything you need to get out of your head and onto paper. This very notebook is the reason you're even sitting in the Dreamscape Records building at this hour.

You were scouted singing at a shitty bar downtown a few months ago. The bar totally wasn’t your style, but you pushed through and made it work, and it seems to have paid off so far.

The sound of pen on paper fills the empty room as you write. Finding any space and filling it with your thoughts and feelings. It’s therapeutic, feeling like a physical release of all the pressure.

Your train of thought is interrupted when you hear a knock at the door. It’s got to be that new producer that Luke told you about. You stand up from your work desk to unlock the door.

A man who appears to be in his early twenties stands in the doorway. His hair was tousled, and his attire was comfortable. He looks like he just walked off a plane. You didn’t expect him to be so young. Young and attractive at that.

Your breath catches as you notice the way his messy, dark hair complements his golden skin. The way his tired eyes sparkle in the dim light.

He smiles as he looks at you. His breath catches in his throat as he sees you in person for the first time. Breathless, he speaks up softly.

“I’m Jay Park..I talked to management, they should’ve told you I was stopping by.” He says a little too enthusiastically for someone who just stepped out of the airport.

“Oh yeah! It’s nice to meet you, come on in.” You say as you step to the side to let him into your intimate space. He looks over the small square room. Decorated with lamps and other keepsakes. A small diffuser puts off a comforting scent, while the screens from music equipment produce an illuminating glow.

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” Jay compliments as he pulls the second office chair up to yours. He sets his bag down on the floor and swiftly pulls out his laptop.

“I–well, um thank you..” You reply casually as you lock the door behind him before taking your spot back at your desk. God, why is he making you so flustered? Your notebook is still open to a page of visible scribbled madness.

“You're a night owl, too?” You ask as you twist your pen in your hands, trying not to feel nervous around your new coworker. You glance through your peripheral vision as he immediately gets to work on his laptop.

“Yeah, I work better at night, less noise, less distractions.” He says as he flashes you a soft, charming smile.

“I feel the same, I always get the best ideas at night. I’m lucky they let me stay here this late.” You say trying to casually continue the conversation.

“Sounds like we’re gonna make a good team.” He says truthfully. There's a slight pause, you catch him glancing into your eyes before he gently shakes his head.

“So what have you got so far for this album?” He asks, prying his eyes away from the laptop screen to give his full, undivided attention to you.

You’re slightly nervous as you reply. Partly because it’s your first time meeting Jay, but also because the way he’s glancing at you sends a rush of heat down your spine.

“Well, Luke and I have been discussing what the label wants, and they want a star, they want innocent pop hits and a marketable face, so I’ve been trying to slash something out,” You say as you look at the lyrics roughly jotted down on the paper. You furrow your brows, biting the back of your pen with your teeth.

You push the page towards Jay, letting him scan over what you’ve written. His face contorts with focus. He scans over the lyrics, basic, uninspired, safe. “It’s not bad, but I’m just going to be honest, it’s a little bland...” he critiques softly.

You flush, visibly nervous at the new man in front of you and the fact that he’s not exactly impressed with your work. Jay lets out a soft breath before he turns to look at you.

His gaze lingers on your eyes, on your lips. He opens his mouth to speak. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who writes music that gets played in grocery stores.” He says softly under his breath, his gaze still locked on yours.

Your eyes widen. What exactly does he mean? You watch as he slides closer. Bringing his laptop along as well so you can see. “Listen to this and see if this is more…you.”

Jay says as he bites his lip. He slides his headphones from around his neck and gently places them on your head.

You’re a hot mess as his fingertips brush against your skin. Dammit, why is he making you react like a teenager? You take a deep breath to calm yourself as he hits the space bar on the computer. Jay sits back in his chair, arms resting behind his head as he watches your reaction with a smirk.

The music fills your ears. The beat is new and different. Like a breath of fresh air after what you went through with your past producers.

The music continues to flood your ears. You close your eyes, letting your mind drift. You subconsciously hum along to the beat. Your voice fills the otherwise quiet room as you savor the rhythm. It’s sultry, it’s intense, it’s sexy and mature, and you love it. You can't hold back a smile as you hum a melody to the sultry sound.

You take off the headphones as the song comes to an end. You glance at Jay, watching you with a smirk on his face. “What’d you think?” He asks calmly.

“God, I love it…you’re a talented producer. It was so raw, so different from what I usually write.” You say, biting your lip as you process the demo he just shared.

“You have such a gorgeous voice. It was sexy, sultry—Those pop songs, they kill your potential,” Jay says as he continues to watch your expressions.

“Wow, thanks, I mean I know my voice, but I don’t really know how to use it.” You say breathlessly as you take the notebook, flipping through the pages again.

“May I?” Jay whispers as he watches you flip through the journal. You’re heart stops, and you hesitate. The notebook was never really meant for any eyes besides your own. You’re not sure yet exactly how you feel about Jay, but he looks at you like he wants to understand you.

You cave in. “Just try not to judge too hard.” You say with a forced chuckle as you slide the notebook in front of him. You’re cheeks flushed hot as he skims through the worn pages.

He flips through your notebook, dark eyes scanning over lyrics, half-written hooks, written crash-outs, and confessions.

“I sink down on your heat, I don’t want to leave, Hands-on my knees, everything I need, Let me give you a ride before you’re gone for the night, Only to wake up in the morning, not by your side.”

“Wait, I like this…” Jay says breathlessly as he grabs his blue-inked pen, messily scribbling and writing down his thoughts over the top of your written black ink.

“Oh! That..um, management would never let me produce anything like that, so I just scraped it.” You say bluntly as you watch him flesh out more of the song.

“Have you ever tried to record it before? I just know you’re voice will sound heavenly over this...”

Jay says his voice completely breathless with awe as he scans the lyrics again. As you gaze at him it’s like you're visibly watching the gears turn inside his head.

“No, I just... was having one of those nights and drafted that out—” You reply lightly in response, the lyrics on the page making your cheeks and ears burn with intensity.

“What if we made a demo, like tonight...using this..” Jay whispers as his fingertips gently trace the spine of your notebook like it's some kind of special artifact.

“Jay I can’t—If I record songs like this they’ll be on my ass. I’ve got to keep it professional, got to keep it surface level,” you say, your voice shaky as you feel like your heart is starting to crush from the pressure.

“You wrote this about someone, didn’t you?” Jay interrupts, your breath catching in your throat as he calls you out.

“Doesn’t matter. Songs like this don’t sell, I’ve already been told—“

“What happened that night?” Jay asks firmly. His hand gently slid across the table, his fingers barely brushing against the skin of your own. His eyes glance you up and down as he waits for your response.

There’s a moment of silence before you suck in a deep breath replying.

“It just wasn’t meant to be...we kept meeting up in secret. I knew the label would kill me if they found out, but that night I had a gut feeling that it was the last time we’d ever fuck and I was right. I woke up in the morning to a cold bed alone. After giving him everything.”

Jay can hardly breathe as you tell him exactly what inspired the lyrics. He shakes his head, chuckling softly with disbelief.

“That’s what makes great music. Experiences, feelings, emotions not looped choruses, charts and streams.”

“This is the real, unfiltered version of you,” Jay says as he turns back to the laptop, pulling some more demo tracks and half-finished beats from his library. “Just imagine what that version of you could do,” Jay whispers almost to himself.

Jay goes back and forth between the computer and your notebook. You watch almost in awe as he makes everything look so effortless.

“Screw safe...let’s lay this down right now, just for tonight. No pressure. You don’t have to show it to management or anything. I’m dying to hear what that voice can do when you’re not caged.”

Caged..he described it perfectly. That's exactly how this whole album production process has felt. You glance at the notebook and then at the microphone. Heart hammering in your chest with fear, but also with excitement. Excitement to try something new, to create something raw and real.

“Let’s do it”

Your fingertips reach for the microphone. Jay signals a countdown from three. Shortly after, the music starts to fill your headphones. You glance at the notebook, one more time, before you start to sing. The lyrics spill from your tongue effortlessly.

You don’t even have to look at the page. The memories flood back. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside you, the way your heart dropped when you woke up and he wasn’t there.

You close your eyes, voice shaking as you tumble through the notes, you softly wipe a few tears from your cheeks as the song comes to a close. You’re shaking, partly because you re-lived the memories through the lyrics and partly because, for the first time, you finally let go and let yourself feel.

Jay looks at you in awe. Your glassy eyes meet his as you slide the headphones off your head and set them gently on the desk.

“That was incredible..you’re incredible..” Jay says his voice is soft and intimate. You feel a rush of heat in your chest from his words.

“Thank you.” You whisper. Your voice shakes as a few more silent tears fall down your face.”

Jay notices. His expression is soft as he leans closer, gently wiping them with his thumbs. You can smell the faint remnants of his cologne, a soft amber blended with notes of vanilla.

The two of you don’t speak. It’s silent as he softly caresses your cheek with his hand. It’s comforting, you almost want to lean into his warmth, but you stop yourself.

Jay pulls away after a moment, nervously clearing his throat. You swear that his cheeks were flushed as he looked back over at his laptop.

You glance at the clock on the wall. 2 pm. You let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jay tweaking some parts of the demo on his computer.

“It’s getting late I should probably head out.” You say softly, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“You’re probably right..” Jay says as he continues to adjust the layers of the song on his computer. The sound of his mouse clicking can be heard in the silence as he keeps replaying that one lyric he can’t get out of his head.

“Let me give you a ride before you’re gone for tonight…” Jay glances at you as you pack up. His gaze lingers on your figure. He bites his lip, his voice dropping low.

“Is that an offer?”

You let out a nervous chuckle, face flushing with heat as you shove your notebook into your backpack.

“I mean, technically it’s more of a metaphor, you know, for the feeling of—"

Jay lets out a playful laugh that makes your heart race. “Well, if you ever want to change the ending to that song, here’s my number. You know where to find me.”

Jay says as he slips a piece of paper into your hand with his personal phone number scribbled on it. He glances at you softly, letting his fingertips linger on yours before he slips out the door.

“Drive home safe, I can’t wait to see what else we can come up with together,” Jay says, flashing you a charming smile before slipping out the door into the darkness.

...

You jump awake to the sound of your less-than-pleasant alarm. Shit…you set the wrong time, again. You throw the covers off your body and rush to the bathroom to try and make yourself look as presentable as possible.

You run down the stairs in your condo parking lot, backing your car out of its designated spot without even looking. This time, you take the shortcut, the engine rumbling as you swiftly weave in and out of traffic. You know Luke is going to give you a scolding for being late, and you start praying he won't take away your nightly studio session privileges.

“Sorry, I'm late!” You exclaim as you barrel through the halls, adjusting your hair and clothes. Your backpack hangs open on your shoulders. As you open the door to your room, you're met with the silhouettes of two men deep in conversation already.

“Nice of you to finally show,” Luke says as he turns around, his eyes raking up and down your less-than-professional appearance. Luke is far from impressed.

“Sorry, I just set the wrong alarm. I don’t really—” You start before you're roughly cut off by Luke’s frustrated voice.

“This happens again and you lose after-hours privileges, got it? Luke says firmly leaving no room for rebuttal.

“Yes sir, I apologize.” You say as you make your way over to the desk, flashing Jay a nervous smile in the process. You start to unpack your notebook, your laptop, and an energy drink you pulled from the fridge.

“Now, since I have both of you here. I'm sure you know you are on a tight release schedule. With the summer season coming up, we need to get your voice out there if we want a number-one hit from you."

"The higher-ups have a pre-release single scheduled for you to drop two weeks from now. I don’t care that Jay just got here or that you don't have any demos finished yet, that single will be dropping in two weeks, no exceptions.”

You watch shock flash across Jay's expression as Luke gives you the rundown of what's expected. Two weeks? That's not nearly long enough to craft something meaningful.

“And you...” Luke says as he whips his head around, eyes narrowing as he locks his eyes on yours. “You know what's expected, and remember your contract is on the line. Don’t make me regret choosing you.”

And with that Luke is out the door, slamming it and leaving the room silent.

“Two weeks?” Jay says running his hands through his messy dark hair as he paces back and forth. “That's not enough time to make something worthwhile.” He says putting his head in his hands with frustration.

“Well, it's not like we have a choice. This is just how management is here.” You say as you flip through your notebook again, the memories from last night already are starting to come back to you.

“The demo from last night..what if we just tweaked it a little and turned it in under an obscure name? They won't know what hit them.” Jay says as he steps closer to you, both of you visibly frustrated under the pressure.

Jay’s hand gently cups your face, his fingertips lingering on your skin as he steps closer. Your back hits the edge of the desk as he uses his free hand to cage you in.

“It would ruin my image if I put out a sex song. People would be furious, just imagine the hate I would get online.” You say softly, your eyes half-lidded from the oversleeping as you glance at Jay’s expression.

“What if those people aren’t your true audience? If you want to make an impact, you've got to take risks. Sure, it might make the studio a quick buck right now, but if you want to make music that you're proud of, I'll be more than happy to stand up for you.”

You pause, breath catching in your throat as Jay's warm hands gently trace mindless patterns into your cheek. You can't forget the feeling of recording the demo last night. How good it felt just to feel the lyrics and relive the inspiration even though it was painful. For the first time, your music didnt feel like a product.

“I’ll do it, Jay..” You whisper, the smirk on your lips not slipping past him.

Jay lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding. His forehead falls to meet yours. “God..” he whispers, his breath so close to yours you could almost taste it. You catch another whiff of his cologne the traces of dark amber and vanilla make your head spin.

Hours go by as the two of you record more layers and tweak the sound of the track. It almost feels natural the way you two work together. You’re deep in thought when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You stop to check the message.

Luke(manager) [5:55 pm] Send me what you have completed from the demo before 7 pm, no later. You [6:00 pm] No problem, I’ll send it over asap.

“Guess this is it.” You say to Jay as he saves the demo, titling it

"demo_01 : not by your side. "

You’re fingertips are practically shaking as you load the file onto an email to send to Luke. You let out a shaky breath as you click send.

“Hey, remember, whatever happens, I’ll be here to back you up, okay?” Jay looks into your eyes, he gives your hand a soft, comforting squeeze before he turns to start packing up his things for the day.

“Thank you, Jay, really, for everything..” You reply softly as you stand up from your chair and turn to do the same. You pack your laptop back into your bag and throw away the empty can of your energy drink.

Jay steps out the door and you follow shortly, turning off the lights and locking the door before you ride the elevator back down to the parking garage.

You stay on high alert as you walk in the dark towards your designated parking spot. Your car is messily parked between the lines, reminding you of the rush you were in this morning.

You unlock the door, tossing your bag of supplies into the passenger seat before fidgeting with your keys. You put the key in the ignition and turn it.

“What the fuck..” You mutter under your breath. You take the key out and try to turn it again, only to be met with more clicking sounds.

Fuck. The battery is dead, this can't be happening...

You groan as you hear the engine roar of a sports car echoing in the parking garage. You keep your head down as you listen to the car slow to a stop. The engine rumbles, and you hear the sound of a car door.

Great just what you need, to be bothered while you’re stuck in the vehicle with a dead battery.

“Hey, everything ok? You didnt respond to my text..”

Jay.. You hear his voice over the deep rumble of the engine of his car. You step out of the car, meeting him in the darkness of the parking garage.

“I think my battery is dead, I must’ve left a light on or something while I was in a rush this morning.” You say with a weak chuckle as you try to rub some of the tension from the back of your neck.

“Would you like a ride home? I really don’t mind.” Jay offers. “But if you're not comfortable, I don’t mind calling you and Uber—”

“I don’t live far, there’s no need to call an Uber.” You say kindly as you accept his invitation. You grab your things and hop into the passenger side of his car.

You can feel the vibration of the car engine beneath your feet as Jay exits the parking garage and starts to skillfully glide down the narrow city streets. The ride is mostly silent until the car slows to stop. Jay reaches over the dashboard to gently turn the music up, easing some of the tension. You look out the window, admiring the lights of the city at night.

“You know that line in the demo about waking up to an empty bed? I’ve felt that too,” Jay says, his voice barely above a whisper breaking the silence.

You tear your gaze away from the window, your eyes scanning over how he looks flushed in the red light. His eyes are a little tired, and his dark hair falls into his eyes.

“There was a girl I was with, I thought things were going well, we went on a few dates, I picked her up, brought her flowers the whole shebang,” Jay says his voice catching in his throat with emotion as he continues.

“And one night I took her out and things were going extremely well, she invited me in and well, we ended up fucking. I thought I was something special.” He says his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he continues the story.

“We woke up in the morning, tangled up in each other, God, you know how good that feels. But something was off, she checked her phone, and then told me I had to leave. I was so confused, but I figured maybe she needed space after everything."

Jau chuckles weakly as the memory replays in his mind.

"As I was leaving her place, another guy came down the hall and went straight for her apartment. Figured out she was cheating on him with me.” Jay says his voice is shaky as he pulls into the parking garage of your condo building.

“Oh my God...I can't even imagine how that feels.” You say softly as he puts the car in park and the two of you sit together in comfortable silence. After a few tender moments, you speak up, your voice cutting through the quiet, “You don’t deserve that, Jay..”

“I know exactly how you felt when you wrote those lyrics. The betrayal, the hurt, the longing.” He says his voice cracking as he turns to look at you in the darkness of the car, his hand resting on the gearshift as he looks into your eyes, his eyes briefly glancing at your lips before looking away.

“The longing but still missing the connection, and still missing the sex..” You whisper your voice shaky with how vulnerable you feel being so open with him like this.

“Exactly,” Jay whispers, his voice barely audible over the music that continues to spill from the car speakers. The air is thick and charged as you two sit and listen to the music from his playlist.

Jay's hand reaches out slowly as he reads your expression and reaction. He gently grabs your hand, slowly and intimately lacing your fingers together.

“You are so special..” He whispers as he pulls your joined hands to his lips, softly placing his warm lips on the back of your hand.

“I was serious about if you ever wanted to change the ending to that song—” He whispers as he lets your joined hands fall from his lips to rest between the two of you.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest at his words, at the way he is looking at you before you can even comprehend the words they desperately spill from your lips,

“You want to come up?”

You give his hand an encouraging squeeze, Jay’s lips curl into a soft smile, his thumb brushing against the knuckles of your hands.

“Only if you're one hundred percent sure..” He whispers back.

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn't...”

...

You fidget with your keys as you unlock the door to your condo. Your hand hasn't left Jay’s until now. You reluctantly let go of his hand to turn on the lights around your small condo.

“Well, this is the place. Feel free to make yourself comfortable..” You say playfully with a laugh as Jay kicks off his shoes and makes his way towards the small couch in the middle of the space. There is a large TV to complement the couch and a window overlooking the city below. You sit beside Jay, flipping a playlist on to play over the speakers.

“You’ve really outdone yourself, the place is beautiful.” Jay compliments his voice, low and soft, as you come to rest comfortably next to Jay on the couch. His hand immediately tangles with yours again, and you can't help but smile.

“Thank you... And also, thank you for the ride.” You whisper shyly as Jay glances over you with awe. You both sit in a comfortable silence, the only noise is the music softly playing from the speakers and the sound of the bustling city below.

He just looks at you, his mind screaming at him to pull away, but he can’t. He doesn’t. After a few quiet moments, Jay’s voice cuts through the silence, a soft, intimate whisper as he leans in closer.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers, his free hand sliding to cup your face gently. His breath hitches as he feels the softness of your hair against his calloused fingertips.

You can't even conjure up words in response. You nod, that's all Jay needs to see. He leans in, gently capturing his lips with his own, holding back a deep moan at the feeling of finally having your lips on his.

He gently guides you into his lap. His lips are still locked on yours as you straddle his hips. Your knees rest on either side of the couch as you capture and release each other's lips with precision.

You slowly explore his mouth with your own, smirk against his lips as you taste how soft and delicate they are. Your hands find his chest, feeling the strong muscles under his shirt, a moan slipping from your lips as you smell the familiar scent of dark amber and vanilla on his skin.

“You’re so perfect. Keep kissing me.” He moans against your lips. His voice drives you crazy, and you can’t hold back. Your hips start to grind into his heat, creating a slow, delicious friction. You whimper as his hands slide to your waist, gently helping you to rock into his hips with a painfully satisfying rhythm. His fingertips slide under your shirt, gently tracing small circles above the waistband of your sweatpants.

“I think..I want to change the ending of that song..” You whisper as you reluctantly pull your swollen lips away from his.

“Want to head to the bedroom?” You ask bluntly. Jay hesitates. There’s a flicker in his gaze like he didn’t quite believe what he just heard.

“I want you. Will you come to bed with me?” You ask nervously, biting your bottom lip with anticipation as you wait for his response.

He leans in, lips brushing against yours as he whispers.

“God Yes.”

He smiles into another quick, gentle kiss before pulling away. He gently helps you off him, and the heat between your bodies is picking up fast.

His strong arms pick you up off the couch. He holds you up with one hand on your back and one beneath your knees. You wrap your arms around his neck for support as he guides you to the bedroom.

He kicks the door open not even bothering to close it before he gently lies you onto the mattress. His breath is shaky with anticipation as his own body presses up against the soft curves of yours.

You gasp at the contact as your body sinks into the mattress. The faint sound of music can still be heard through the cracked door to the living room.

Jay leans in, his hands gently caressing your hips as his mouth finds your jawline. He kisses down your neck, his own heart beating faster in his chest as the room feels like it’s only getting hotter.

You moan breathlessly as he kisses your neck. His hands slid to the hem of your shirt, tugging it softly, asking for permission to take it off. You gasp softly before nodding with consent. Jay tears his lips away from your neck to help you slide the fabric up and over your head.

Jay's breath catches in his throat as he looks down at you. Hair spread out on the pillows, hips swollen from his kisses, your breasts sitting perfectly in your bra. He can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“You are a fucking masterpiece..” Jay mumbles before his lips are back on your neck. Tracing down to your collarbone. He moans as he buries himself face-first in your chest.

Your back arches off the mattress, and goosebumps flush your skin at the contact of his lips. Jay's hands slide to your back, removing the clasp of your bra. He looks into your eyes as he slides it off your shoulders, tossing it aside.

“God...So pretty” Jay moans as his eyes glance over you’re bare tits. Hit cheeks are heating up as he steals glances at the shape and color. He leans down, kissing the valley between them.

His breath hitched with contact. You’re breath catches in your throat as he turns his head. Fingertips tangling in his dark hair as he kisses the fullness of your breast. He smirks against your skin with satisfaction, his hands gently holding your hips as he rolls himself into you.

You can feel how hard he is already and it makes you gasp. Jay smirks against your tits, as he kisses the soft delicate skin, his lips starting to add a little suction, and it doesn’t take long before small dark marks are left on your skin.

“Jay...” you moan as your back arches slightly off the bed. He takes your sensitive nipple in his mouth, his other hand massaging and holding your other breast in place.

You can already feel the heat between your thighs. Your arousal stirring as he plays with your tits. He doesn’t even realize how much it’s turning you on.

“You already sound better than anything I could ever produce,” Jay mumbles breathlessly. He pulls away from your nipple, leaving a string of saliva attached to your skin. He starts to kiss down your body. Down your chest, across your stomach, over your hips.

He gently hooks his fingertips into your sweatpants, pulling the soft fabric down your legs. He tosses them off the bed and onto the floor carelessly. His attention is fully on the heat between your thighs.

His vision is hazy as he notices the wet spot on your panties, a low groan spacing from his throat at the sight. His dick was already fully hard at the sight.

He softly slides them down your thighs and tosses them to the floor. His hands run up your thighs as he gets a good look at what you have to offer.

He slowly pushes your thighs apart, revealing your slick folds to him. He licks his lips subconsciously at the view. He slowly positions himself between your thighs. Keeping his dark eyes locked on yours. keeping your thighs spread open with his broad shoulders.

“I want to hear you make sounds that I can’t recreate with a keyboard,” Jay says as his lips kiss your inner thighs. Savoring the feeling of the softness on his lips, the scent of your arousal already made him dizzy.

“God, look at how pretty this is..” Jay whispers as his fingertips lightly slide between your delicate, wet folds. He can hardly breathe as he watches, eyes committing every detail to memory.

Jay finally leans in. Gently licking a stripe up your folds with a deep groan from his chest. His large hands keep your thighs spread apart for him.

“Fuck, I knew you’d taste incredible..” Jay moans as he pulls away before he dives in for more. You’re fingertips lace into his dark hair as he keeps tasting you. His tongue slid to your entrance to taste some of the wetness gathered there.

He slides his tongue back up your pussy, swiftly finding your clit. His grip around your legs tightens as he gently flicks at it, already sensitive. The sensations send sparks of pleasure through your body, and you can’t help but cry out. Your hips shaking as he holds them down.

“Fuck yes..let me hear you..” Jay mumbles into your heat. The vibrations drive you wild as he devours you slowly, drawing out your pleasure.

You look down to watch him working magic between your thighs. Your hands pull and twist strands of his long dark hair as his lips suckle around your clit, drawing more breathless moans from your lips.

It’s like Jay is in another world between your thighs, his eyes are closed as he gets lost in exploring every crevice and fold with his tongue. He’s focused on exploring your body like an instrument he’s learning to play for the first time.

You’re wet, so wet. Your arousal drips down Jay's lips and chin shamelessly. He doesn’t even seem to notice the mess he’s got you making on the sheets below.

Jay hums shamelessly into your pussy as he makes out with it like he has all the time in the world. Like he’s pulling any sound he can from you to harmonize with his own.

You’re eyes roll back as you get lost in it all. The wet sounds of his tongue fucking in and out of your entrance only build the warmth in your core.

Your grip on his hair is weak as your thighs start to shake around his head. He lets out a satisfied groan, pleasuring you with the same rhythm.

“Fuck I’m obsessed with how you taste..” He says voice muffled as he continues to eat you out. His hand slipped from your thigh to slide a finger inside of your wetness.

He starts slow, gently pumping his middle finger in and out. His vision blurs as you clench around him.

“Shit..” He mumbles at the feeling of his finger inside you. His tongue finds your clit again as he easily slips his index finger into your heat.

You start to fall apart from the stimulation. Your chest rises and falls as you struggle to catch your breath, your moans only grow louder, needier. Like your body is begging Jay to give you release without even having to say a word.

Letting up slightly, Jay pulls your hips further down the edge of the bed. Your legs rest on his shoulders as he kneels, tilting your body slightly to the right. His grip is firm as his mouth finds your pussy again.

He groans with satisfaction like the seconds away from you’re taste was enough to have him starving again.

You turn to the side as Jay changes angles. Your brows furrowed with confusion. “Jay, what are you—“ you start to ask before you see it.

The mirror. Your goddamn mirror.

The floor-length mirror is mounted across from the right side of your bed. Your breath catches at the sight. Jay smirks as he sees your reaction. Still lapping at your pussy with a steady rhythm.

“Look at you... Look at how pretty you are,” Jay whispers into your soaking wet heat. You have a clear view of everything in the dim lighting of your room. The arch of your back, the curve of your breasts moving as you struggle to breathe. The way Jay kneels between you like he’s worshiping your everything.

His fingers are back inside you without warning. You moan deep and loud at the impact, propping yourself up on your forearms to watch in the mirror.

“Eyes on the mirror...Want you to see what I see when you fall apart,” Jay commands with a deep whisper. He grips your thighs with bruising intensity as he doubles his efforts.

You can’t hold back the sounds that fall from your lips as he alternates between sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue. The rhythm pushes you to the edge, fast.

You grip the sheets, and Jay chuckles. He doesn’t stop. You keep your eyes locked on the reflection of the two of you. You feel your core twisting with pleasure, and you gasp out, not holding back.

“Fuck..Jay I’m gonna come-“ you say as you keep your eyes locked on the mirror. Watching how your own body reacts to every flick and caress of his tongue.

“Fucking soak me..” Jay growls into your heat. He keeps pushing you with touch and tongue until you're thrown over the edge.

You cry his name as you come. Watching how your back arches off the mattress and your toes curl. You feel the waves of arousal spilling from you, and you can’t stop it. You watch your reflection shamelessly as your hot arousal coats his face and the sheets below.

“That’s is..fuck..keep coming for me-“ Jay mumbles his voice getting drowned out by the wet sounds of his mouth trying to lap up your release.

Jay watches the whole thing completely in awe. His heart rattles in his chest as he coaxes you tenderly through your orgasm. Sweat was running down his brow and mixing with the splashes of your release on his face.

“Holy...fuck” Jay whispers as he gently laps at you one more time before pulling away. His lips are slick with your arousal as it runs down his chin and neck, dripping onto the collar of his shirt.

“You’re voice sounds even better when you come.”

He pulls away, wiping his lips with the back of his hand as he helps pull you back fully into the bed. His hands are on either side of your face as he cages your naked body in.

For a moment he just looks at you, his eyes scanning over your face reveling in the afterglow of your orgasm. He can’t help but smile down at you, chuckling softly with disbelief, hardly even being able to comprehend what just happened.

The image of you coming is already stuck on a loop inside his mind. “Your body is more addictive than any instrument I’ve ever played...” he whispers as his forehead comes to rest on yours. You can still smell yourself on his lips as he leans in. Breathless.

He rolls his hips back into yours, and your eyes roll back from the pleasure. “Jay..” You whisper your voice cracking with how overwhelmed you feel from his tender touch.

“See what you do to me? God, I was so hard when I left the studio last night.” Jay says, his voice husky with want as he kisses you again. Letting you taste what's left of yourself on his lips.

Your hands find the edge of his shirt, and he hums into your mouth with satisfaction before tearing away from your lips to help you pull the shirt over his head.

Your heart skips a beat as you look over his chest. Your gaze catches on the sweat that clings to his honey-toned skin, and you gasp at the definition of his muscles in the dim bedroom light.

“I think we should probably do something about that. You’ve been waiting long enough..” You murmur playfully with a smirk as you reach the waistband of his sweats. Your fingertips brushed under the waistband of his underwear feeling the soft honey skin of his hipbones.

“You want to ruin me for real? Want to hear more of me?” You tease playfully as you slowly tug at the waistband of his underwear. Jay’s eyes are wide with shock as you tease him confidently. Chest aching as he realizes that you're confident like this because of him. He lets out a shaky chuckle, smirking in response.

“Fuck, let me grab a condom..” Jay says his voice husky with want. He sits back on his ankles, ready to go fetch his wallet. He's caught off guard by your hand gently catching his wrist stopping him before he can get up. He looks down at your hand at how gently you're holding him.

“No need, I—well, I have some in the nightstand...” You say, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you admit it. You release Jay’s wrist, and he immediately climbs back into your body, causing the mattress to dip more from the weight.

He leans in, interrupting you with a rough, needy kiss. His hand slides down your arm with a featherlight touch to take the condom from between your fingertips.

His lips devour yours before he pulls away completely breathless. His eyes locked on yours as he pulled down his sweatpants and tossed the rest onto the floor.

His cock springs free, leaking against the warm skin of his stomach. You watch with parted lips as he tears the packet open discarding it onto the floor before reaching between your bodies and rolling the condom over his aching length.

His hands shake as he positions himself at your entrance, one hand resting on your shoulder and the other guiding his dick. “Tell me if it's too much okay? I want this to feel good for you..” Jay whispers before he gently leans forward. Letting his tip catch on your already soaking-wet entrance before he slips a few inches in.

You throw your head back, lips gasping with a loss for words at the feeling. He is so warm, so big, so filling. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

Jay stills his movements, letting you relax your hips a little as you adjust to size. Jay slowly pulls out until just the tip remains, before pushing back into your tight walls even further. His head falls to your shoulder, his hands sliding down your body rhythmically to rest on the bare skin of your hips.

“Fuck..” He curses under his breath as your body envelops him in your heat, stretching and gripping him in all the right ways. His breath is hot against your neck as he pants, sweat running down his chest and back as he thrusts into you slowly and deeply.

He gently brushes some of your hair from your face, softly tucking it behind your ear. “I’m not going to last long, fuck it feels like you were crafted for me, in every way.” He whispers, his voice rough and deep as he gently places a kiss on the side of your face.

Jay catches a glimpse of you in the mirror, like before when he was on his knees. He gently thrusts into you, pulling out tantalizingly slow before pushing past every barrier to bury himself to the hilt. The words are taken out of his throat as he watches himself fuck you in the reflection.

He watches how your tits bounce with every stroke of his cock inside you, your skin shimmering with a thin layer of sweat, and the way your delicate hands rest on his large shoulders. The way his large cock disappears inside of you he can't help but whimper at the sight.

“Look at you. Look at us…fucking incredible..” He whispers as you turn your head to look in the mirror. Eyes widen as you watch the erotic sight. You watch as he fucks you slowly like he wants to draw out every whimper and moan and add it to his own personal soundboard.

You feel full, so full, but your body is aching for more. You don't even realize your hand is reaching between your bodies until Jay catches your wrist.

“Hey..” Jay whispers, his hips jerking as he tries to keep himself from coming too soon. “Just let me take care of you…lie back for me.”

You comply, lying back against the sheets, damp from your sweat and arousal. Jay’s hand reaches between your bodies, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. You watch in the mirror, vision going blurry as you feel him twitching inside of you, like he is holding back his collapse.

You let go. Every sound falling from your lips is raw, unfiltered, and purely you. Your body only grows wetter as Jay tactically rubs your swollen clit. You cry out, gasping curses and his name as you completely lose yourself in everything.

Jay watches in awe, the sight making his spine feel tight, his body aching for release, but he holds out for you. Each tantalizingly tight thrust takes the very breath from his lungs. His hand on your hip, gripping your damp skin even tighter as he fights to hold on.

“Oh my God, you're making me fall apart..” Jay whispers under his breath as he watches you squirm and writhe underneath him in the reflection of the mirror.

“Taking me so fucking well,” Jay whimpers as he feels himself right on the edge of release. You're so close, we can feel it in the way you clench around his invading length.

You try to gasp his name, but your voice is caught in your chest. You pull him closer, fingertips digging into his biceps as he thrusts deeper. You sob, unable to hold anything else back. You can't even warn him with words. You just hold him closer, burning your face in his neck as you come.

It feels like everything is releasing from your body. All the stress, the pressure, the grief from everything all falls away. You sob into his shoulder as you clench around him, coating him with your wetness. You dont even notice it soaking the sheets beneath you as you let go of everything in that moment.

Jay curses under his breath, your release throws him over the edge. He buries himself into you, shamelessly spilling all his release into the condom. He groans deeply as he holds your body close, slowing his thrusts to milk out every ounce of pleasure he can until the two of you are completely and utterly spent.

The two of you just lie there in silence, and the faint sound of music playing from the living room can be heard from the hall. Your mind is a hazy mess, you can't believe you really just had sex with Jay, and you actually enjoyed it.

You wince as you rethink all the sounds you shamelessly made in the heat of the moment. And the two of you are very aware of the wet mess between your bodies as evidence.

Jay just holds you, his fingertips tracing small shapes into your warm slick skin as you both come down form the high. Reality starting to settle back in.

“How are you feeling?’’ Jay whispers, breaking the silence. He gently brushes some hair from your face as he smiles at you softly, committing to memory how you look in your post orgasm afterglow.

“A little shocked, a little overwhelmed, but mostly satisfied. Don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before Mr. Jay Park..” You say with a soft chuckle as you let your hand ruffle his slightly sweaty dark hair.

“Good. I’m honored to have that title bestowed upon me.” Jay says with a soft chuckle. He gives you a quick kiss to the cheek before she slides out of you. Discretely discarding all the evidence.

You groan at the cold empty feeling, tossing in the wet sheets as Jay stands up from the bed.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move..” Jay says softly.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You mumble your voice muffled by the pillows as you hear the door shut behind Jay.

After a few moments he returns, kicking the door open with his foot. He steps into the room a clean towel over his shoulder and two cups of water in hand.

“Here I got you some water,” Jay says as he sits upright on the edge of the bed, offering the lukewarm water to you.

You sit up letting the messy sheets pool at your waist as you accept. Taking a few sips of water from the cup.

“You keep doing shit like this and im going to think you want to stay the night.” You say casually, almost too casually. You watch as his brows furrow over your cup.

“Trust me, after what we just did, I'm not going anywhere,” Jay says as he puts the empty water cup on the nightstand and reaches for the clean towel.

He gently moves the sheets away as he starts to clean up the mess between your thighs. You're stunned at the intimate nature of the moment. No man has ever done this for you; the feeling is foreign, but somehow so right.

“Do you want to shower? I can help you clean up and change the sheets too.” Jay offers as he continues to wipe your inner thighs clean.

“A warm shower would be nice, and I'd appreciate the help changing the sheets.” You say with a nervous chuckle of disbelief as you accept his offer.

“This is really special to me, Jay..” You confess, your voice slightly raspy.

“This is really special for me, too. Can’t believe we finally rewrote the ending to that song.” Jay says with a soft chuckle at how corny he sounds, completely wrapped up in the moment with you.

“I really hope Luke likes it, Im just praying I didn’t fuck up big time with that demo.” You say your voice slightly frantic. Jays heart sinks into his chest as he sees your shoulders tighten with tension.

“Shhh, no more work talk ok? We can figure out the rest tomorrow, right now we need to get you cleaned up.” He says softly biting his lip before he scoops you up from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom in his arms.

“Let me give you a ride before you’re gone for the night, Only to wake up in the morning, not by your side.”

Jay Park proves himself a man of his word and full of fulfilled promises. Because of him, the script is rewritten, and for the first time, you don't wake up to an empty bed after giving your everything.

…

You both jerk awake to the sudden noise of your alarm cutting through the quiet morning air. You groan, stretching your arms with a yawn as you feel Jay’s soft skin still intimately pressed up against yours.

“Morning,” Jay whispers, his voice hoarse from sleep and from everything the two of you did last night.

“Morning..” you reply with another yawn. The soft rays of the morning light creep through the blinds, and you turn to look at Jay, still lying naked in the sheets. He smiles up at you softly, his eyes glancing over all of your features in the morning sunlight.

You take in the foreign feeling of it all. The comforting smell of dark amber and faint vanilla mixed with the lingering smell of sex.

“You like coffee?” You ask with a playful tone as you let your fingertips playfully twist strands of his long, dark hair.

“I'm gonna need it after the night we just had, you completely wrecked me,” Jay admits shamelessly.

You rub your tired eyes as you sit up in bed. Slipping into an oversized shirt and making your way to the kitchen. With your vision still groggy from sleep, like start to make your morning coffee like it's muscle memory.

It's not long before Jay comes up behind you, his large hands wrapping around your waist, his lips finding the side of your neck.

“I could get used to this..” He mumbles between soft, lazy kisses.

“Likewise,” You reply softly as you lean into him. You finish the coffee, pouring two mismatched mugs full and adding a few pumps of sugar and cream just how you like it.

You lean against the kitchen counter, reminiscing on the intensity of last night as you take small sips of your beverage. The soreness between your thighs is a physical reminder of everything that unfolded.

Jay does the same as he leans against the counter across from you, his eyes scanning your figure over the rim of his mug.

“I’m going to have to run to my place before heading over to the studio. Can’t be showing up to my third day on the job with my coworkers cum on my shirt.” He says bluntly.

You laugh, nearly spitting out your coffee at his remark. Jay chuckles at your response. “Jay you really are something else.” You say with another low chuckle.

“Just telling the truth..” Jay says matter-of-factly.

You smile back at him, your heart fluttering as you start thinking about when you can have him again.

Luke(manager) [9:45 am] Studio now. We need to talk.

The text message comes through as you’re sitting in the backseat of an Uber. You peer out the window to see gridlocked morning traffic that doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon. You feel a spike of adrenaline as you watch the clock tick. You try to glance out the window to see what the holdup is, the ETA on the driver's GPS only getting later and later.

“You can just let me out here, I can walk the rest.” You say to the driver. He nods, unlocking the door for you to grab your things and tumble out of the backseat onto the sidewalk. You speed walk a few more blocks until you reach the Dreamscape Records building.

You slide your keycard as you get out of the elevator, following your tracks back to the studio like your usual routine. You punch the PIN into the door and open it. Your heart drops into your stomach.

You walk into a very visibly frustrated Luke. You scan the room, catching a very red-faced Jay sitting on the couch with his hands in his lap. Luke looks at you, eyes narrowed, before singling out onJay.

“What the actual fuck was that demo?”

note: Chapter One is finished! I hope it was enjoyable thus far. I don't have anyone to proofread for me currently, so I'll probably go back in a few days to catch any mistakes I missed. Chapter Two will be out soon! If you like the story so far, just leave a comment or an ask, and I'll add you to the taglist(18+ only!) My requests are always open, and I don't bite :) Take care until next time!

xoxo kate <3

{Track Two} Read Here!

taglist: @nithxhoon @sumzysworld @jiyeons-closet @heekirei

#enhypen au #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen angst #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #park jay x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong smut #jay park hard hours #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fic

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