yoursjaeyun

[yoursjaeyun]

𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 — 𝐩𝐬𝐡.

𝐩airing. ex bf!sunghoon x reader

𝐬ypnosis. nearly a year after your messy breakup, you and sunghoon cross paths again at a business party— different lives, same unresolved feelings. but when the night ends and you can’t drive yourself home, an unexpected car ride forces the two of you to face the words you’ve never said, and the love you never really let go.

𝐠enre. angst angst angst, romance, ex-lovers to ???, tension, suggestive

𝐰arnings. suggestive themes, mild sexual tension ( implied sex ), partial undressing, heated makeout, alcohol consumption, angst

𝐰c. 2.5k to 3k

𝐚/𝐧. idk guys i haven’t really seen many enhypen angst lately sooo i kinda wanted to try writing one myself:) it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything like this so pls be nice LMAO… its pretty short too so pls don’t be disappointed </3 anyway enjoy the pain <3

🤍🎵 inspired by — on the drive home by NIKI ( listen while reading for max pain! lol )

reblogs are appreciated !!

YOUR FRIEND— YOUR CURRENT BUSINESS PARTNER, HAD FINALLY CLOSED THE DEAL OF A LIFETIME. a celebratory event was needed. they invited everyone involved in the project: investors, collaborators, mutual connections from back when everything was just a rough idea scrawled on paper.

you were here to support them. smile, nod, make polite conversation. try not to look too out of place in heels that quite literally pinched at your toes.

you stood near the tall windows, drink in hand, your coworkers talking beside you as you let the familiar sound of their voices fade into the background.

you weren’t exactly thrilled to be here, but you weren’t dreading it either.

or at least… you hadn’t been.

because who you didn’t expect to see was park sunghoon. your ex. right because you both worked in the same business—well, technically. seperate branches, different departments, hardly ever crossing paths.

and yet, there he was. across the room. near the bar. talking to someone you didn’t recognize, dressed in a black suit that fit him too well, his hair perfectly styled like he hadn’t spent the past year out of your life.

you felt your breath hitch slightly, chest tightened as your heart raced.

he looked… the same. annoyingly the same.

and then, as if drawn by the weight of your stare, his eyes found yours.

time paused.

and then he looked away.

you eventually did the same before downing the rest of your glass faster than you should have, sweetness hitting too sharp on your tongue.

“easy there, y/n,” one of your coworkers chuckled lightly beside you, “you alright?”

you forced a smile, waving them off. “yeah,” you pursed your lips. “just celebrating.”

somewhere between your third and fourth glass, the warmth of the wine settled in your chest, making everything feel a little fuzzier, but your emotions, somehow, felt harder to keep in check.

you barely had a moment to collect yourself before you felt someone step up beside you.

“is that… who i think it is?”

jennifer. your closest friend and coworker, the only person who knew the full story. you kept your gaze fixed on your glass, swirling the last bit of wine at the bottom.

“unfortunately.”

“don’t look,” you hissed under your breath, shooting her a quick side-eye. but she only gave you a knowing smile, tilting her head slightly.

“tell him that. he was already looking over here anyway.” she leaned in slightly, “like full-on staring. i thought my lipgloss was smudged or something.”

you sighed. “great. just what i needed tonight.”

“do you want to leave?” she offered, and you shook your head. “no. i’m fine. i’m not going to let him ruin this for me.” — “attagirl,” she smiled, bumping her shoulder against yours. “still… proud of you for coming. i know it’s not easy.”

you let out a quiet laugh. “is that your way of saying i looked like i was gonna bail?”

“a little,” she grinned, not denying it. “but i also knew you wouldn’t. you’re stubborn like that.” you rolled your eyes.

“thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“anytime.” she nudged your arm, giving you a sidelong glance. “you gonna talk to him?”

you paused, heart skipping in your chest.

“no.”

“you sure?”

“positive.”

“okay. but if you change your mind…” she wiggled her brows. “drama’s always more fun when i’m there to witness it.” you couldn’t help but laugh.

“tempting. really tempting.”

looking back at him, you looked down at your glass once again. “you know what, i might just go home early tonight, actually.” jennifer raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for you to explain. “i think i need some fresh air.” you gave a small, tired smile. “i’ll catch up later.”

she nodded, concern flickering in her eyes. “alright. but promise me you’ll text if you need anything.”

“i will.”

you set your glass down gently and started to step away. “stay until the end for me, yeah? and tell the others i’m leaving for now, don’t want anyone wondering.”

jennifer smiled warmly. “of course. go take care of yourself.” you gave her a grateful nod, then turned toward the exit, mentally preparing yourself to slip out unnoticed.

but fate clearly had other plans.

because standing right in your path — of course — was him.

you kept your eyes down, focused on weaving past the crowd, just a few more steps and you’d be out of here— and then your heel caught on the edge of the carpet. you stumbled forward, heart leaping to your throat— but before you could hit the floor, a hand shot out, catching your arm.

“careful,” his voice came low.

you froze.

“sorry,” you mumbled quickly, avoiding eye contact. you pulled your arm free gently, almost like it hurt to leave his grasp, and hurried outside before you could think twice.

you cursed under your breath, reaching down to yank off your heels. the sharp sting of forming blisters had finally pushed you over the edge. “stupid heels,” you muttered, wincing as you flexed your sore feet, gripping the heels in one hand while pacing toward the curb.

behind you, through the glass doors, sunghoon watched. his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

you stood by the curb, the cool air brushing against your shoulders, shoes hanging from your fingers, your breath fogging up in the night. the sounds of the party drifted through the doors behind you. you thought maybe you’d made it out without having to deal with anything else tonight.

but then—

the door creaked open, and you heard footsteps approaching slowly.

you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“going somewhere barefoot?”

his voice broke the quiet. you let out a slow breath, forcing a small smile as you kept your gaze ahead. “figured i’d give my feet a break. what’s it to you?”

then there was a long pause.

“give me your keys.”

you finally turned just enough to see him standing there, coat over his shoulders, his expression cold and serious.

“i can take care of myself, sunghoon.”

“you’ve been drinking.”

“so has everyone else tonight.”

he scoffed softly, shaking his head like he’d heard this before. “don’t be difficult.”

your feet ached, your head felt heavy, and honestly… you were too tired to argue tonight. you tightened your grip on your shoes, sighing in defeat. “fine.” you fished your keys out of your clutch and tossed them to him without much thought. he caught them easily, of course.

“come on,” he said, nodding toward the lot. and you followed, dragging your steps a little behind him.

the walk to your car felt longer than it was. when he unlocked it and held open the passenger door, you slipped in, setting your shoes on the floor and smoothed down your dress. he shut the door, and the quiet settled in again. you turned toward the window, arms crossed.

it had almost been a year. and somehow, it still felt familiar.

sunghoon closed the door gently, then circled around to the driver’s side. the engine started with a low hum, dashboard lights flickering to life between you. and for a while, neither of you spoke. the only sounds were the quiet rumble of the car and some soft instrumental song playing on the radio.

he pulled out of the parking lot, his eyes fixed straight ahead. and then, after what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

“how was the party?”

you kept your eyes on the window, watching the streetlights blur past. then a dry laugh slipped out.

“like every other one.”

he hummed quietly. “busy. loud. full of people you don’t really want to talk to.” you glanced at him briefly,“you remember.” the corner of your mouth pulling into a small, tired smile.

“i remember a lot of things.” his voice was softer this time, holding back a grin.

and just like that, it was silence again.

the car rolled on through the empty streets, you thought that would be it. just small talk to pass the time. but then—

“you looked happy tonight.”

your stomach twisted. you turned a little, still watching the streets blur past your window. your brows pulled together. “happy?”

“yeah,” he let out a faint, humorless laugh. “laughing with your coworkers, having a good time. i haven’t… seen you like that in a while.”

you breathed in slowly, heat creeping up your chest. “thats what you noticed?” he flicked the turn signal on, his eyes never leaving the road. “what else was i supposed to notice?” your fingers curled into your lap. “maybe how miserable i felt the whole time. how fake that laugh was.” the words slipped out before you could stop them.

he exhaled, jaw tightening. “you think i didn’t notice that too?” you fell quiet, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to hold yourself together.

“i still notice, y/n. whether you want me to or not.” and that was when your chest finally gave in a little.

“well, what good does that do now?” your words came out harsher than you meant. but he didn’t answer. you waited for it—another cold remark, but all he did was tighten his jaw, knuckles pale against the steering wheel.

he didn’t want to mess this up the second time.

you let out a quiet scoff, shaking your head as you leaned back in your seat. “still quiet when it matters, huh?”

nothing.

you watched the street signs blur past, and as he took the next turn without hesitation, you realised he still remembered. the way to your place. and you hadn’t said a word.

“right. still remember my address,” you muttered under your breath, “figured.” but he still stayed quiet.

unbelievable.

a few minutes later, the car slowed in front of your apartment building and you didn’t give yourself time to think as you unbuckled your seatbelt, slipped your heels back on, and pushed open the door all in one rushed motion. the cool night air hit your skin, but it didn’t do much to clear your head.

“thanks.” thats all you mumbled before stepping out, not bothering to look back, your heels tapping quietly against the pavement as you walked away.

“y/n.”

his voice stopped you in your tracks, and slowly, carefully, you turned around.

“your keys.” he held your keys in the air.

right.

you let out a tired sigh, your steps slow as you walked back toward him— but as your fingers brushed against his, he pulled his hand back.

he can’t be doing this right now.

“sunghoon.”

his name came out more of a warning than anything else, but he didn’t move. instead, his eyes finally met yours. “is that it?” his voice wavered slightly, barely enough to notice, but you caught it.

“after everything thats all you have to say?”

your stomach sank, but you forced your face to stay still. “what do you want me to say, sunghoon?”

“something. anything.” he let out a dry, tired laugh. “i drove you home, i… i haven’t seen you in almost a year, and all i get is a ‘thanks’ like i’m just some stranger giving you a ride?” you clenched your jaw, feeling the sting behind your eyes start to build.

“what do you expect me to do? fall apart in front of you? again?”

his grip on the keys tightened. “no. i expect you to stop acting like none of it mattered.”

“stop putting words in my mouth!” you snapped, your voice shaking even though you tried to hold steady. “it mattered. it meant everything. that’s why i can’t talk about it.” and for a second, neither of you said anything.

“then why did you leave?” his voice barely audible.

“why didn’t you fight for us?”

you laughed, but it came out weak. “i was fighting, sunghoon. every single day. i just got tired of fighting alone.”

that shut him up.

his shoulders lowered a little, like your words finally hit where it hurt. you bit your lip, holding yourself together.

“give me my keys.” your voice broke.

he hesitated first— but finally, without saying anything, he placed them in your palm, his fingers brushing yours, long enough to make your heart ache all over again.

you turned on your heel, gripping the keys so tight they dug into your palm. but you barely got two steps away before his voice stopped you again.

“y/n, wait.”

not again.

you closed your eyes, shoulders tense. “please, sunghoon… just let me go home.” if i stay any longer, i’ll love you again and i can’t survive that twice…

you heard his footsteps, felt the space between you close in until his presence was right there, behind you, even though he wasn’t touching you. “do you really want this to be the last time we talk?” his voice cracked on the last word. “don’t do this,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“i can’t do this anymore.” the words spilled. “acting like i’ve moved on when every part of me still looks for you. when i laugh, i wish you were there to hear it. when something good happens, you’re still the first person i want to tell. it’s always been you. it’s still you.”

you bit down hard on your lip, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling, no matter how hard you tried. “i thought you didn’t care anymore,” you breathed out, wiping at your face quickly.

“i thought you stopped loving me.”

he let out a hollow laugh, “i never stopped. god, i never stopped.” your shoulders trembled as you tried to hold yourself together, heart breaking in a way that felt too familiar.

you turned around to face him. eyes puffy, cheeks damp—

“then why did you let me go?”

and for once, he didn’t have an answer.

all you could hear was your own uneven breathing, your heart pounding painfully against your chest. sunghoon stood there, staring at you like your words had knocked the air right out of him. his lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

and maybe that silence said it all.

you let out a bitter scoff, shaking your head. “that’s what i thought.” you turned to leave again, but this time, he didn’t let you.

his hand caught your wrist, gentle but firm, pulling you back toward him. before you could think, his other hand cupped your face and his lips met yours.

it wasn’t careful. it wasn’t soft. it was messy, desperate, full of all the words neither of you knew how to say. your instinct told you to pull away. and you tried, really, you did.

but your heart was tired of running.

instead of pushing him back, your hands grabbed at his jacket, fingers curling into the fabric, holding on like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

because god, you missed him.

you let yourself feel it again. when you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, his forehead rested against yours, “give me a chance,” he whispered, barely holding it together. “one more chance baby, please.”

you kept your eyes closed, heart twisting painfully in your chest, his words hanging between you like a question you didn’t know how to answer.

somehow, between hurried steps and lingering touches, you ended up at the front of your apartment. neither of you really remembered the walk there, just the rush of adrenaline and the weight of everything finally crashing down.

his hands were on your waist, your fingers tangled in his hair, mouths meeting like you’d been starving for this. your back hit the door, breath hitching as his lips trailed along your jaw, your hands tugging at the collar of his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders.

“keys,” you whispered against his mouth, barely able to focus.

he laughed softly, breathless. “later.”

but you still fumbled blindly in your purse, finally unlocking the door with shaking fingers. the second it clicked open, sunghoon guided you inside, the door shutting behind you with a quiet thud.

his coat dropped to the floor somewhere near the entrance. your heels followed, forgotten. you tugged at his tie, loosening it until it slid free, his hands slipping beneath the straps of your dress, clothes fell away in pieces, like neither of you wanted to waste another second.

it wasn’t perfect.

it was real.

for the first time in months, it finally felt like you could breathe again.

you barely made it past the front door before sunghoon’s hands found your waist again, guiding you toward the couch in the dim light of the living room. you fell onto it together, laughter mixing with shallow breaths, his arms wrapping around you like he didn’t want to let go.

you straddled his lap, knees pressed against the cushions, his hands resting on your hips as you leaned in, kissing him again—slower this time, more like you were taking your time to memorize him all over again.

when you finally pulled back, your breath warm against his skin, your eyes drifted down. his shirt was halfway undone, the buttons you’d tugged loose now leaving his chest exposed.

you just… stared.

all the noise faded, leaving only the rise and fall of his chest and the steady way he looked back at you. “what?” he asked quietly, the corner of his lips tugging up in a smirk.

you shook your head, a smile tugging at your own lips despite yourself. “nothing. just… forgot how annoyingly good you look.”

he laughed. “you’re one to talk.”

you ran your fingers gently along his collarbone, tracing the familiar lines. “this feels… strange. weird, kind of.” you mutter. “yeah,” he whispered, hands squeezing your waist a little. “but it feels right, doesn’t it?” his smile softened, eyes searching yours for just a second longer before he leaned in again, lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, against the side of your neck.

you exhaled deeply, hands tightening slightly around his neck as his mouth found that familiar spot just below your ear. he kissed you slowly there, like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn’t planning on letting you slip away this time.

you nodded, closing your eyes. “yeah… it does.”

his smile turned a little smug, eyes lingering on yours like he already knew what you were thinking. “knew you’d miss me,” he teased softly, brushing his lips along your skin. “you always do.”

before you could roll your eyes, his mouth found the curve of your neck, kissing it slow. and he knew exactly what he was doing.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you managed, voice breathless but not exactly convincing.

he chuckled against your skin, the sound sending goosebumps down your arms. “too late,” he whispered against your ear.

“your face says it all baby.”

you let out a shaky laugh, tilting your head slightly as his hands slid up your waist.

“shut up and keep kissing me,”

and he did—gladly.

YOURSJAEYUN est. 2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[yoursjaeyun]

Genuine question but girl are you alive???😭

unfortunately

[yoursjaeyun]

helium and too close is my song

[yoursjaeyun]

dtf.― p.js , s.jy

Jake isn’t a fucking cuck, but damn if you don’t look good with Jay on you like that. Yes, Jay. His arch nemesis. The stupid toned-muscle, nice car driving, fat cock throbbing, pretty lips and seductive voice having, bitchass neighbor… or the one where jay is a super cocky rich neighbor who really, really doesn’t care if jake, your husband, knows how badly he wants to not just fuck you, but both of you. The only thing better than one brat to jay just so happens to be two brats.

PATREON REQUEST | MDNI

WORDCOUNT― 7.4k

PAIRING― sim jaeyun x afab reader (ft.neighbor brat tamer park jongseong)

CONTENT― neighbor au, husband jake, threesome, smut, jayke action, jay tops everyone, jake only tops you.

DISCLAIMER ― there is a lot of emphasis on jayke and the reader is cucking them. i got feral for a bit, pls forgive. 

NOTE― JAYKE GIRLIES RISE. p.s. Not entirely proof read, i struggled a lot writing a threesome this time, idk why ;-; pls forgive lil ol sj 

SMUT TAGS ― threesome, guy on guy action, anal fingering , pussy eating, cock sucking [jake throats him], overstimulation, jay is a bit more dominant but all three of them are practically a pile of jelly, raw grinding, double vaginal penetration, dick against dick stuff, some guiding/hair tugging [jake receiving], cream pie, squirting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake stares through his living room window, knowing damn fucking well why his neighbor is outside pretending to pull weeds in his back garden right now. The fact that said neighbor is very aware that Jake is watching him? 

It’s pissing him off.

Jay, the cocky, toned torso, asshole is trying to push his buttons standing out there with his shirt off. He just knows it. Those smirks aren’t unnoticed. What’s worse is that those smirks are always directed at him, right before Jay’s eyes are all over you. Jake’s beloved, his fucking wife. 

The fact that the idiot next door thinks he’s really gonna do something is borderline psychotic. Being so open about it, so blatantly confident?

All he has to do is fucking ask, but no. He’s being sneaky. Jay flirts with you behind his back, the dude brings you the mail before he can even get outside to do it himself, he brings over extra groceries, he does this, he does that…all because he thinks he can like…have an affair with you or something?

An idiot, is what that guy is. A very, very attractive idiot. It’s not like you and Jake are against having fun with a third, it’s just the fact that Jay is sitting here like you’re some trophy to be won when you’ve already got a goddamn ring on your finger. What’s crazier is that if you were anyone other than you, and Jake was anyone other than him, Jay very well may have already been in a full-blown affair with the wife of whatever neighbor he’d have.

And so, Jake watches, he studies. He knows you’re out back with your book, half naked, specifically because you find it funny that, for once, your husband is jealous.

“You’re taking it personally, he’s just being nice.” You told him months ago. “Jake, Jake. Look what Jay brought over!” You had squealed with glee just last week, presenting him with a cute little row of macaroons. “Don’t be silly, he doesn’t check me out.” You have said at least a million times, knowing full well it’s a lie.

Both of you are very aware of the way you defend him for the sake of possibility.

Well then, what’s this? Jake argues in his head, watching Jay practically turn his head like the fucking exorcist to get an eye full of you lying out under that tree. At this point, Jay isn’t allowed to be a third. 

Trying to get his wife to cheat on him?! Hell no. 

And the weeks go by with this idea in Jake’s head. Now, he wakes up at the crack of dawn and waits for the mail. Now, he comes home with extra groceries neither of you need. Now, he mows the lawn perfectly, quicker than Jay mows his. 

He isn’t going to win you over this way, ever. Maybe, if Jay didn’t have such an ego, this would have been a lot more fun. 

Except, Jay kind of does win. Jake mows the lawn, suddenly Jay is planting flowers and offering to plant some for you. Jake checks the mail? Jay gives you coupons from his own stash just in case. Jake comes home with more groceries? Jay just brings you home cooked meals now. 

You’re aware of what’s happening, it’s only a matter of time before you let this guy get some. Hell, even Jake knows it. He doesn’t like it, but he knows you do.

It’s the fact that Jake knows the types of men you’re into. If this guy wasn’t so cocky, always trying to one up him, maybe he’d have told you to run along next door and have some fun. But it’s war now. 

Full blown war.

Even when you giggle at his anger after weeks upon weeks of petty activities. Trying to calm him down and butter him up, all “C’mon babe, ill even moan louder for you.” and “You’re probably bigger anyway, imagine putting him in his place by fucking me.”

The idea is…nice by this point, after all, how else can Jake win? Because he knows how to fuck his wife, and he’s very, very good at it. Jake won’t be the one inviting him in though, no. Nor will you.

If anything, the idea of embarrassing Jay, making him think he’s won the war by getting you to sleep with him only to realize Jake has been waiting for it to happen? 

Now that– that would be hilarious. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It takes the better part of six months for all of this turf war shit to come to a head. Jake almost laughs, watching Jay act like he’s in it for the long run. As if his wife hasn’t been giving him signals since he agreed to the little deal with you. 

“If we let Jay fuck you, you better tell him I’m better.” He had argued. Not at all hurt that you want to sleep with the guy, more hurt that it would demolish his ego to not be able to look Jay in the eye and show him how insignificant his role is. 

You nodded. And now, six months later with that fucking asshole next door constantly thinking he’s closing in on you, Jake senses the sin in the air. 

“Babe, it’s happening!” You had whisper-shouted quickly into the phone before hanging up.

Naturally, Jake was home in record speed, slamming through the front door and rushing to the bedroom. And there it is. Jay jumps back with wide eyes, cock hanging out of his pants as if he’s so guilty, as if this wasn’t his intention. You, smirking on the bed, completely nude, legs spread. 

Oh, you sure got his attention this time, and Jake eyes down both of you, trying so hard not to smile. 

“It’s not w-” Jay goes to explain himself, face going flushed and hair all fucked up as he stands awkwardly with his hands covering his cock.

Arguably, Jake kind of thinks he looks…well…he gets it. He’ll never admit it to you, nor to Jay, but he gets it. Jay  is pretty…he’s maybe even thicker than him too, and his body is toned and near pristine, oh…his mouth.

“It’s about fucking time.” Jake rolls his eyes more at himself than at the neighbor, already lifting his shirt off and flicking his eyes to you. “Was starting to think you really thought you could fuck my wife without me.” 

Jay is stunned at first, that’s kind of exactly what he was thinking. Yet– Oh, so the two of you are into this? He was starting to wonder why Jake never came over to kick his ass after consistently trying to get at you. Now he looks between you and your husband, eyes narrowed, smirk appearing. 

“Wait,” Jay says, ignoring the way you both can see his cock twitch with interest as he moves his hands away from whatever shame he was feigning. “You’re a fucking cuck? Honestly, I should have known.” 

So he still wants to be a cocky asshole about this?

“Oh, no. No, no.” Jake laughs, groping himself as he closes in on Jay. “You will be the one watching.” 

Jay rolls his eyes, nodding as if this is some sort of joke. 

“Right, right.” He nods, then looks at Jake, scanning his torso before arguing. 

“You don’t think it’s weird how wet she already is? I barely touched her–and you.” Jay glances down at Jake’s bulge now, watching how the man rubs against it. “You got hard looking at me, not her.”

Silence. 

Jay’s not embarrassed like he was supposed to be. Actually, he’s well aware that he’s right.

Jake stares at him, you stare at him, and he leans back, stretching his arms out before scratching the back of his head. 

“If I knew you both wanted me–” He breaks the silence, dropping his eyes to Jake’s bulge again, “maybe i’d have come for you first. Smooth out the friendship, then fuck your wife.” 

Why is Jake’s stomach bubbling?

And you. You’re just watching it unfold. Two very beautiful men standing in front of you, gripping their cocks, semi-arguing not just about fucking you, but….fucking each other? About who the cuck is when clearly, it’s you right now?

Oh, Jake’s gonna love him. You think he already does, actually, because you see the way his lip is quivering from here. He does that when he wants to pounce, when he wants to be kissed. You know him well enough, you see his interest, his attraction to the neighbor. All that petty competition turned him to mush within seconds of Jay not backing down. 

“Kiss him,” You mumble from the bed, tracing your fingers up and down your thigh. “Jakey, kiss him. He’s really good at it.”

The best part is, you expected Jake to be in one of his moods. When he’s aggressive, bruising with every touch and kiss, but this is…very unexpected. It’s the opposite actually. This is rare even for you to see your husband become docile, nearly submissive. To watch him act like this especially when you have a third in the room. He’s never given up his control when someone else is involved, unless of course, the third is a woman. 

The fact that it’s towards Jay is a bit more unexpected. They’ve been silently beating the shit out of each other through domestic acts for so long now, you can argue that Jay will probably hold this over his head forever if it continues. 

Toxic masculinity, all that. The competition between men can be very sexy on its own when it involves your body, but seeing your husband practically roll over and be vulnerable too? How lucky for both of you to have someone like Jay living just across the yard. 

You can see it in the neighbor’s eyes, someone who is not only willing to participate, but will participate, will take over, will not back down.

Jay’s won the war, but Jake doesn’t really care as much now that he’s seeing what you see in him. Hell, he didn’t even know the guy likes dudes, and the fact that he said he should have gone for him first? 

Jake is his type? 

Well, Jay is your type, and he’s your husband’s type, and you are their type. 

Isn’t this kind of…great?

“Yeah, kiss me.” Jay finally cuts into the silence, waiting for Jake to make his move, the one that will make him give in, the one that’ll essentially land him in the throne that reigns over both of you. 

How funny is it that Jake does lean in to kiss him? Jay watches, not at all closing his eyes despite watching Jake close his own. Probably to be passionate, probably to let his own desire take hold. Not quite yet though, Jay thinks. As he can feel Jake’s breath on his cheek, his eyes shoot to you and his hand shoots to the back of Jake’s hair. 

He pulls it, keeping eye contact with you as he now, pushes your husband down. He keeps Jake’s face close to his body, making sure he can feel his lips run all the way down, straight against his cock. He holds his head there for a moment, letting it twitch against Jake’s lips before he pushes him down further, sitting him on his knees. 

Doing that was strangely difficult though. He could tell Jake would’ve done it. Right here and now, leaving you, his own wife, neglected with her legs all spread out on the bed just to suck a cock? 

Thirsty. Both of you. Because don’t think for a second that Jay didn’t see how much you liked watching him do that either. Watching him control your husband. 

“Sit.” Jay says against Jake’s near-pout at the act of being dominated. “You’re going to sit there, and you’re going to watch.” 

Jake finally blinks up at him and the look kind of floors Jay a little bit by the time he finally lands his eyes back on him. Like, goddamn, he’s so, so fucking submissive looking when his eyes go all glassy like that. 

Arguably, Jay is already borderline lustfully obsessed with the idea of fucking you, but your husband? After meeting his glare for so long? There’s something so, so arousing watching him submit like this, all while you’re just lying there, smiling, loving it.

Jay holds back a short chuckle, catching his breath in his throat before he breaks his character even for a moment, showing how much he’s interested too. Gotta stay strong for now. 

“Understood?” He tilts his head instead, keeping that grip in Jake’s hair. 

Jake nods, now looking at you. Almost apologetically, but you smile at him with a short nod as well, spreading your legs even wider as Jay makes his way over. 

“Now,” Jay’s voice goes softer when he speaks to you, one palm landing on your inner thigh and the other against your cheek as he crawls over you. “Where were we?” 

Fuck, what a man. You nearly shiver at the touch alone, noting how he’s acting the exact same way as he was before Jake walked in. He’s not acting, he’s not putting on a show to try and one up your husband again, no. This is just…him. 

Maybe a bit rough around the edges, but he knows what he’s doing. He’s definitely gotten around, surely.

“Ah, right.” Jay mumbles with a smile, leaning down and letting his lips rest against your neck with a hot breath. “You wanted me to play with you for a little bit, didn’t you?” 

You nod again, feeling like if you speak right now, it’ll come out dry and raspy. You did want him to play with you, because if you didn’t ask for it, he may well have already been fucking you when Jake walked in. And that was against the rules. 

There had to be a way to hold Jay off. Especially because he was definitely rushing before. 

“When’s he coming home?” You recall him saying when he walked through your front door. Truly, he wouldn’t have walked in if you didn’t answer the door the way you did. 

Bra and panties, all done up like you were expecting him. He’s a little embarrassed at that though, because he instantly got hard at seeing you like that. Like it was specifically for him. He knew Jake was at work. Who else would it have been for?

He asked that without any indication of you actually seducing him though, it was all assumption. And he was right to assume because, well, he picked up your hints for months. Coming over for sugar wasn’t going to cut it anymore after seeing you open the door like that. You looked at him like that.

 He was going to fuck you this time. Months and months of distant flirting had nearly driven him insane by this point too. 

“He gets off work in about an hour but, let me use the bathroom first–” You had said in a hushed tone, full-on acting, role playing with a man who didn’t realize it was allowed. 

Then, you called your husband with the news as Jay was tearing his belt off on the other side of the bathroom door.

You also recall Jay demanding you take him to your bed when you had tried to go back to the living room. Probably to mark territory or something, and all you could do was comply. After all, your husband was already on his way and you could tell Jay knew he didn’t have a lot of time. He wanted to make it count, no matter how quick he had to be. After all, there was a look in his eye, one that made you feel like he knew it wouldn’t be the only time.

When Jake walked in, your neighbor already had his cock out, slapping it against your clit, grinding up against it, commenting on how pretty you are, how wet you’ve gotten for him, asking how much longer you’re going to make him wait, threatening to put it in and render you breathless– then the door opened, and now here you are. 

“Asked me to play with you, as if you weren’t the one playing games with me.” Jay whispers now, a little more aggressively. “No more rushing now, hm?” He adds, slapping his cock right against your clit again before pulling back. 

“In that case–” Down he goes, happy that he already pulled both that bra and the panties off of you before Jake even got home, nosing his way straight to your quivering pussy.

Before he lets you feel it though, he looks back, making sure Jake is watching, getting a full view of his half clothed ass before nodding. 

“Make yourself useful and get my pants off while I do this.” 

No eyes are on Jake as he does as he’s told. In fact, your eyes are rolling back and Jay’s are looking up at you, feeling Jake try and pull at his pants. His tongue, however, is already working wonders. Licking you up and licking you down, between each fold before sucking your clit in his mouth and making it all sensitive, throbbing. 

Jake does manage to get his pants off for him, and he stays in his place beside Jay now, waiting, watching. Occasionally his eyes glance down, seeing his neighbor’s heavy cock hang there, neglected, leaking little drops onto the bed. 

If Jake was smart about this, he probably wouldn’t be thinking about licking it up, yet here he is, surprising himself time and time again with this side of him. He really, really didn’t expect the situation to turn into this. If at all, he should be the one eating you out right now, he should be the one telling Jay to take off his pants. 

Jay should be the one thinking hard about licking cum up. He should be the one neglected. 

“Y’know,” Jay suddenly groans against you, voice vibrating your clit. “If she was mine, I wouldn’t share her.” He continues, going back in for another long and languid lick against your hole, waiting for you to moan, practically forcing one from your throat when he dips his tongue inside of you. 

And he continues that, closing his eyes this time and focusing on the taste, the feeling of what will soon be wrapped around his cock. It’s like heaven, kind of, having you like this while Jake just sits off to the side. He wonders what your husband must be thinking right now, if he’s into it or growing angry. 

 “Especially not with you.” He finally adds, leaning back from you and studying the mess he’s made so far before turning his head back to Jake. “Look at her, how could you just watch someone do this to her?” 

And, well, the look on Jake’s face kind of bruises his heart a little bit, softens him up. He’s still just blinking up at him, almost as if he’s waiting to be told he can come up from the floor, cock raging so hard in his pants. Jay shakes his head at himself before looking at you. 

“Then again, I probably wouldn’t share him either.” He says as he stands on his knees, presenting his cock to you, grabbing your hand and guiding it straight to him before addressing your husband again. “Come up here.”

Jake practically leaps onto the bed now, getting an eye full of how your hand barely wraps around the girth of this man, and he stares. And stares, and almost entirely forgets that he’s the husband in this situation, this is his room, his bed, and his wife. 

And Jay is his neighbor. His extremely, insufferable, sexy fucking neighbor. 

“Look at you.” Jay seethes as he fixes his posture tall and strong above you, lip tucked between his teeth briefly at the gentle grip you twist around the head of his cock. “Both of you.” He adds, now grabbing Jake by his hair again, this time pulling his face straight to his own.

“You still wanna kiss me?” He says now, Jake nodding instantly. 

You watch the way your husband leans in, almost moaning in relief when his lips meet Jay’s. It’s messy, extremely intimate to see up close like this. It turns you on somehow more to see Jake act the way you do when he’s left you neglected for a few minutes too long. Desperate, kind of argumentative with his pouting and moaning. 

Gripping Jay harder, you urge them on, watching their tongues reach the point of messy drooling, their chins wet, Jake probably tasting your pussy on Jay’s lips. And god, when Jay moans into it, probably due to the speed in which you’re now jerking him off, even you moan in response. 

There’s something about seeing him get into it, ignoring the fact that he’s appeared calm and collected this whole time. 

Yeah, he’s definitely getting into it. He grabs Jake’s hair harder, kisses him deeper when you circle your fist at the head of his cock, collecting the precum so you can slide back down to the base. And fuck, when you watch him now, reaching out, grabbing Jake through his pants? 

You whine, wanting more than just lying here watching.They’re so into it and you’re just…here witnessing it. You want them to kiss you too, you want them both on you, working you open, making you feel good too. But you’re briefly ignored in this moment as Jay starts rutting his hips, fucking your fist at a pace that makes it hard to jerk him off. 

And Jake…god, you knew you married him for a reason. Look at him, barely kissing back now, just slack jawed as Jay palms between his legs for him, licking into his mouth before moving down, kissing his neck, biting his shoulder. 

That’s it. You’re losing your damn mind right now, pulling your hand back and sitting yourself up on the bed. Jay doesn’t even flinch at the loss, and just kisses Jake harder to make up for it. 

 Your eyes stay glued to them as you now move yourself forward, poking and podding your husband first, who ignores you entirely because he’s, well, lost in it. Very into it. Still slack jawed, still reeling from finally being touched. 

You move your attention to Jay, poking and prodding him instead, and he pays attention. Grabbing your curious hand and pulling you roughly against him. You smile at the movement, understanding that he’s clearly still the one in control here, and whining for your husband may not be in the cards right at this moment. 

He’s just like you, you’re just like him. 

Just seconds later, you push back again, wanting to encourage more than this, wanting to see more, feel more. You start working Jake’s pants off and practically push Jay’s hand away from him, only now do they both pause, watching your hands pull out his cock. Still he moans at it, skin on skin, and you hold it there, looking up at him, glancing at Jay, then back down. 

“Stop leaving me out.” You mumble. 

Jake finally snaps out of it at that, lips feeling tingly as he watches you, guilt bubbling up that he lost it there for a second. Jay, on the other hand, is kind of reeling at how jealous the two of you get. Yet, still you’re both entirely into him as much as you are each other, it seems. 

It’s only natural that you’ll whine for Jake when he’s too busy kissing the man who is supposed to be on you right now, but no worries. None at all, Jay likes it. He understands. 

“Awh,” Jay coos, pushing his hips forward and bumping your hand with it, making sure the head of his cock meets Jake’s before continuing the act. Rutting again and again, messing your hand with the mix of precum and arousal. “Did he leave you out?” 

They both did, but something about the way Jay’s voice sounds when he asks, so soft yet still cocky. Charming, because even Jake nods at that before skewing his head to you, dragging his own hand down to hold it over yours before allowing Jay to slide his length into the tight space. 

You feel it when your husband leans in to kiss you now, as if he’s apologizing. Too worked up to say it, and can only act on his apology. Warm lips enveloping yours with a heated, near desperate kiss, then he starts immediately fucking up. You can feel it, the way their cocks meet and keep the mess of hands holding them together slick and wet for this. 

Jay is stuck watching this time, and he can’t decide on whether he should watch the way you manage to overpower Jake in the kiss, or the way you and your husband are both holding both cocks so tightly just so he can fuck up and against the under side of Jake’s. 

Jesus. All three of you have a bit of a pit in your stomach, especially when you manage to slip your hand out and allow Jake to control the mess in the middle as you, now, turn from Jake’s kiss with the intention of kissing Jay now.

Finally, you’re not left out, finally, there’s two cocks out in the open, rubbing against each other with a wet, pornographic sound.

“Oh, needy.” Jay comments when you kiss him just as harshly as you did Jake, you can feel his smirk on your lips but he quickly falls into the kiss too. And that’s when Jake absolutely loses it, finding you so pretty, both of you, so, so, so pretty like that when he’s feeling so good. 

And now, a small pause. You pull back for a breath and get a good look at both of them. Their attention is no longer on each other, it’s on you. Both pairs of eyes shining at you as they continue to jerk their weeping length off against one another, and suddenly, you’re shy. 

There’s a hunger in Jay’s eye, a need in Jake’s, and only now do you lay back again, spreading your legs open wide, and using your fingers to spread your pussy out the same way. 

“Jakey–” You call out to him, wiggling your hips and presenting it to him first, “look–”

Jay shivers when he looks first, seeing how much wetter you’ve become.

“Yeah, Jakey,” He echoes your words, grabbing him by the hair again since he seems to like that and guiding his face straight to your hole, “look at it.”

Being guided isn’t something Jake allows often, but he doesn’t mind so much now with his face being nuzzled into a cunt he knows so, so well by another man. Fuck, he barely was able to catch his breath before it was knocked out of him again. He licks out immediately anyway, and makes himself comfortable, hands and knees, lapping away like a happy little pup. 

Jay studies you closely when Jake does his thing, the way you lazily watch him, the way your chest rises and falls with deep, meaningful moans that shows he knows his way around your body, and he knows how to pleasure it. So, now he averts his eyes to Jake, his body, his waist, his ass.

He’s got so much to work with between the two of you. And so, he pushes Jake’s head into you further, roughly rubbing his nose into the mess, making you moan, and hoping he’s enjoying himself because he’s sure he might pull back when he–

Jake does pull back slightly, but that arch in his back doesn’t go unnoticed either. A saliva slicked finger pushes, circling his rim before pushing in. 

“Fuck–” Your husband groans with a shiver, his cheek against your clit, resting his head briefly there as if to prepare of the welcomed intrusion.

And it goes on like that for a bit longer than you had expected. All of this is happening in a way you weren’t expecting, actually. There’s a sense of control here, but it’s gentle, almost careful with intention. Somehow, Jay’s attention stays on Jake, maybe as a form of apology, or maybe to assert his dominance now that he, at the very least, has you where he wants you. 

Your eyes glisten at your neighbor, blinking at him as he pleasures both of you. He seems to be enjoying himself, looking back at you all while using Jake as an extension of himself, and of course, finger fucking him to the point Jake can’t stop rutting back against the pleasure.

Arguably, Jay may not know what exactly to do with all of holes willing to let him fuck them. But, also, none of you are short on time.

This can happen as many times as you want, hopefully. 

“Mhm, that’s right–” Jay groans now, nearly rolling his eyes at how tightly Jake’s ass hugs his single digit. He reaches around him now rather than guiding his head, holding his waist and leaning over him, aggressively fucking his finger in, finding his prostate in a near instant just to toy with it. 

“You ever heard him cry before?” Jay now averts his eyes to you with an amused tone. 

You shake your head, a mess at how fast Jake works his tongue on you through the pleasure, your hands now finding your way into his hair to rub his nose in it even more. 

“Ever see him cum untouched?” 

Another shake of your head. 

“No?” Jay smiles, tilting his fingers up, assaulting Jake’s prostate and within seconds, you note the way your husband starts writhing between your legs.

His tongue is sloppy, he’s moaning so loudly that he can barely catch his breath, and Jay immediately pulls his fingers out before aggressively lifting Jake up and away from you by his arms, letting you see the cum spurting out of him, sending tremors and shivers from his toes to the top of his head. 

“Oh–” You groan, squeezing your legs together at the image, watching Jake grow frustrated at his ruined orgasm despite the cum still dripping out of him. 

You’ve never seen him look so ruined, and the way Jay presents him to you so proudly kind of…well, he really did it. As if on command, making your husband both cum and cry. There’s clearly some things both of you could learn from Jay. 

“Now, stop neglecting her.” Jay’s tone comes out far more demanding now, ignoring the way Jake’s cock weeps with sensitivity now, once again guiding him, except this time, when Jake holds back as if to rest for a moment, Jay’s demands are directed at you. 

“Fuck him.” 

Well, who would say no to that? 

You take it upon yourself now to push your husband back, letting his head hang off the bed as Jay helps you lay him out, and instantly you sit. Grinding your bare, soaked pussy against his half-flaccid length. 

Jake does whine through it, shooting his hands up to you and not even knowing himself if he wants more, or if he needs you to slow down, or to stop entirely. His hands are frantic, breaths are uneven, his eyes going from wide open, to rolling back, to squeezing shut. 

He looks panicked, confused, stunned.

“Stop thinking,” Jay instructs him, whispering sweetly as he pulls himself off the bed to get a good look at the blood rushing to the top of Jake’s head as it hangs there. 

Your husband is kind of thankful, happy to be a bit mindless in this moment because suddenly, it does feel good, feeling someone so familiar sinking down on him all in one go. So wet, so warm, so his. It doesn’t seem so bad to let someone else think for him right now either.

He tries to lift his head to see you still, but he starts seeing lights, going a bit dizzy as you gently ride yourself on him. 

You are trying to adjust as he grows harder inside of you, stretching you open and giving you the fulfillment you’ve been needing since all of this started. You moan, trying to be compassionate about this, especially knowing he’s about to be toyed with even further, by both of you.

Jay nods at you with a smile, as if encouraging you to go faster, to take what you need from him. 

Then his eyes flick between both of you, cock in hand, he stands up slightly, aligning it perfectly with Jake’s lips. Poor guy is so dizzy he probably doesn’t even notice yet, but Jay communicates with you. That same cocky smirk, a raised right eyebrow, and a tilt of his head. 

He’s asking you for permission…to put it in?

“Yes, yes, yes.” You moan as you bounce and frantically nod your head, trying to regain breath at the sheer idea of it. “Baby,” You groan now, unsure if Jake can even hear you at this point. “Open your mouth.”

You can’t see his face, and god how you wish you could because of Jay’s reaction in particular. The way he taps his cock, pushing forward, probably sliding into his mouth now. It’s the way he holds both sides of Jake’s head when he does it, the way his eyes are laser focused, his abs flexing in silent pleasure, his slow release of a very faint moan.

Man, fuck, you’ve always wanted to see your husband suck someone off, but he never has. He’s only ever allowed it to happen to him, only ever made someone else suck him off.

“Oh, good boy,” Jay moans now at the feeling of Jake’s tongue frantically lapping, despite how crowded his mouth is becoming. And he throws his head back at the pleasure, now going to hold the bottom of Jake’s chin, tilting his head back further to angle the position, thrusting straight down his throat. “So, so good–”

Jay notes how he needs to just, like, shut the fuck up now. Even he, at this point, is losing it. This wasn’t something he actually thought Jake would let happen, yet…look at him. Fuck, look at you. Drinking up the image, eyes so dark and crazed that he’s using your husband like this–

That you’re both using Jake like this.

You’re bouncing, riding, chasing, staring off at him as if you’re some sort of feral animal happy to take what you can get Then, Jake, choking and gagging around him as he moans in pleasure at the same time, spit bubbling out at the sides of his mouth, dripping down and into his hair and he probably loses the ability to think at all if his hands are anything to go by.

Scratching at his own body, gripping the sheets, reaching out for something, for anyone to hold him through it.

All that blood split between his head and his cock…it’s so obvious, and you’re still chasing, getting enough but at the same time, knowing you can have more.

Something snaps in Jay as he watches you. He’s lot the plot a bit, taking a liking to Jake, seeing how far he can push the boundary just because he can, almost forgetting how fucking badly he’s wanted you. 

You. 

He hasn’t even fucked you yet, he seriously let Jake do it first? 

“Jesus,”  Jay groans out of frustration now, fucking into Jake’s throat one last time and holding it there as he stares forward at you. He ignores the choking sounds, the desperate searches for breath only because it feels, so, so fucking good.

 “Alright, alright.”

You’re a bit confused at the way Jay talks more to himself than at you or your husband, but you hear a sputter when he pulls back, walking to stand at the side of the bed and leaving Jake to deal with the aftermath of whatever lashing his throat just took in stride.

You pause your bouncing, watching him curiously.

“Scoot back a bit,” Jay says now, helping you scoot back, helping Jake get his head back on the bed so he can regain whatever humanity he has left in it. 

And then, Jay is positioning himself behind you, allowing you to essentially plant yourself back onto your husband before he’s forcing his own cock in alongside him. Without warning, without helping you stretch out more. 

You fall forward with a yelp, now just as breathless as Jake is when you hug against him tightly, burying your nose in his neck, feeling his heartbeat right against your lips there. 

“Jake,” You whisper as you desperately search for comfort, feeling Jay stretch you out. “Oh, fuck–”

Jake nods his head slightly, now willing to take whatever this guy is going to give to the two of you. After all, he’s taken the brunt of Jay’s attack by now, he’s sure you’ll love it as much as he does. So, he wraps his arms around you in a comforting way, essentially trapping you in place, whispering a short, breathless hum of, “feels so good baby, when you squeeze around us like that–”

That ignites you as you nuzzle further into your husband’s neck, unable to stop squeezing around them. It fucking hurts, it hurts so badly, but–

Fuck. Jake wants it. Jay wants it. 

You want it.

Jay watches the mess in front of him, the way you both writhe and cling as he makes room for himself, fucking roughly forward, sliding with intentional pushes to stretch you open just enough to fit all of him alongside Jake.

Seeing your cunt try and handle it, the way you grip, stretch, and instinctively try to push him out? It’s too much for you, but just right for all three of you, he thinks, as he makes eye contact with Jake and gets a drowsy nod. 

He watches the way Jake holds you tighter, forcing an arch too. Ugh, what a good man he is. 

“Yeah.” He moans, now picking up a rhythm as you both start moaning in near unison, “Hold her just like that for me.” 

And, well, you wanted to be fucked by them both but preferably not like this. At first anyway. You shock yourself when you call out, moaning so loudly it leaves a ringing in your ear. There’s rubbing up against something so sensitive inside of you, both cocks pulsing, stretching you beyond belief, and you…like it?

It feels good now. Too good.

Your moans come out as cries as Jay continues, and both men seem to be falling in love with the sound of it. So much so that, even Jake now ruts his hips up with a cheeky smile, encouraged by Jay’s praise to keep going, all so he can feel you squeeze, and squeeze, and try to push them out. 

And goddamn, does it feel good to have a cock rubbing against him in such a tight, wet little hole. Even Jay now starts whining with you.

Moaning, a mess, all fucking three of you. Finally, Jay has broken out of character, fucking forward fast, hard, near thoughless. It renders Jake unusable as he tenses up under you, holding you through it, babbling out filthy words of how full you must feel now that his cum is spilling out. 

“Feel that, baby?” He whines so quietly, and you do feel it. Arguably, so does Jay.  

You’re barely able to breathe through it, suddenly feeling fingers in your hair that pull you back. You can feel Jay’s chest breathing rigidly on your back, and now you both stare down at Jake.

He looks so lost in it, and yet still, Jay demands. 

Well, he pleads.

“Keep going,” Jay directs at Jake, well aware of his orgasm, slowing his hips to keep himself from cumming too,  and groping both of your tits to hold you in place. “Fuck up, faster, let me feel it.” He continues, now landing a sloppy, drooling bite against your shoulder. 

And you watch your husband, something igniting yet again in his eyes as he does just that, grabbing your hips and letting his hips rut up, freely. 

“Fuck yes,” Jay moans for him before biting against your neck now. “You gonna cum too?”

Okay, yeah, maybe Jay is trying to rush it now. He wants to be the last one to release, and if you don’t get there soon, he’s going to fucking embarrass himself. Thankfully, you nod frantically like a good little wife, dropping a hand down and simply pressing your clit before your legs start shaking. 

Both men feel it, the way you tense up, and they both put all of their energy into it. 

You hold your breath through the orgasm, never having felt so full like this. It just keeps coming, and coming until–oh. 

“Ahh–” Jake looks at you in surprise, lip now pulled between his teeth as he throws his head back again, dizzy, so fucking sensitive. His wife just fucking squirted. 

For the first time, you did it. After years and years of both of you trying to figure it out.

Jay doesn’t even know what to think about it, feeling you cum around him as Jake’s cock struggles to keep up through the pain, all around him and against him, the splash of wet pushing out against him, dripping down onto Jake. 

It’s so messy, so fucking dirty.

Holy fuck. He can’t, he can’t keep holding back.

You’re so sensitive when you fight through it, Jake even moreso, and Jay loves it as his hips demand an abusive pace. Pushing in, out, so deeply, so fucking hard inside of you, mixing around the mess of cum before–

The bruising grip on your hip tells you more than the twitching inside of you, and Jake practically starts crying in pain at the rawness of it all. Jay, shaking, releasing all of it with tight, jerking thrusts before finally, he slumps over you. Sandwiching you between both himself and your loving, exhausted, absolutely docile husband. 

Out of breath, out of fucking mind really, you don’t even move. 

You don’t clean up, hell, you don’t even open your eyes after that as you catch your breath between the tight mess of bodies.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

After that day, things kind of…changed. 

Jake is more needy. He’s still dominant for you when you need it, but it’s kind of a welcome change from time to time. Having him act all sweet and sloppy, as if he can no longer control it when the time is right and you’re looking particularly mean. 

Threesomes don’t take place quite as often these days though. With other people, anyway. As to be expected considering no one has ever actually participated quite like he did.

Jay has also become a bit more gentle too. Still openly getting his eyes on you every chance he gets, but Jake doesn’t mind near as much simply because he knows Jay checks him out too. The sexual tension is always felt between houses, and always satiated in one room or another. 

Once even on the back porch in the dead of the night, but still.

The time spent with Jay now is a lot less…um, erratic. Jay learns the two of you the same way you both learn him, and there have even been a few times since where Jake was the one toying with you both. 

Even a time where you were the one in control. 

It’s comfortable, fun, equal. To the point neither of you really look for a third anymore, after all, you’ve got the perfect match just across the yard, right?

Jay: hey jakey boy, come over, bring our wife

Jake waves his phone in front of your face. It’s been weeks since the last time the three of you played. In fact, Jay has been kind of flaky about it lately, responding too late to texts, or simply declining. 

Nevermind the fact that Jay always claims you as his wife too when things get, well, sexual. It’s not like he doesn’t do the same shit to Jake, calling him his husband, chuckling, being soft about it. It’s the fact that it had been weeks, both you and your husband were starting to feel a bit heartbroken about it, actually. 

And when two of you do go over, expecting lots of sex and even more questions about why Jay is being so weird lately, they’re hit with romance?  With dinner on the stove and candles on the fucking table? 

Jay wants in. 

Commitment.

Permanence. 

[yoursjaeyun]

so manny kisses for my vallie valentine 😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚😚

so many kisses for u too pretty 🥹

[yoursjaeyun]

they wanna be fucked so bad ong

[yoursjaeyun]

daddy issues ── ( 심재윤 )

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist ; @yoursjaeyun

[yoursjaeyun]

can u pls write about backshots with heeseung🙏

💌 ; immediately, YES.

with the room being dimly lit, the warm toned lamp set up in you and heeseung shared room gave the perfect atmosphere for this. you’d both have been going at it for about an hour and he just couldn’t get enough of you. you could count on two hands how many times you’ve finished. although he took his time with you. especially now.

the way he had your head pinned into the mattress, he was a little more rough now. “you like that?” he spoke between moans—the shaky breaths you let out as you gripped onto the sheets, moaning his name into the pillows and eyes rolling back ever so slightly. you couldn’t help the fact that heeseung was quite literally, in your guts.

the firm grip he held on your hips, thumbs imprinting into your sides like a tattoo. he was mesmerized by the feeling of your walls, the sound of it, the way he drowned in that sound. it was intense, his moving faster and the heat rising to each of your body. this was better than any workout. he wanted you to feel every fucking inch of him.

the echos of the skin slapping, snapping you into pieces with each thrust. his voice sounds like silk, encouragement to you while yours was like music—pushing him work work harder. faster. “just like that,” he watched your ass recoil back against his. the way you fit so perfectly against him, like a glove. it was more than enough to edge you closer.

something about the way he was moving, the way he drew you to you millionth orgasm for the night. his free hand slipped onto your back, arching it deeper while the other hand slapped and gripped your ass. he’s filling you up, making you his—what more could you ask for.

[yoursjaeyun]

testing limits | 𝐩𝐣𝐬

୨୧ pairing: park (jay) jongseong x fem!reader || ୨୧ word count: 0.4k || ୨୧ genre: smut || ୨୧ tags: sexual tension, husband!jay, ceo!jay, dom!jay, jealous jay, semi-publix sex, unprotected sex, spanking || ୨୧ synopsis: "You keep acting like a little brat and I'll take you over my knee right here, I don't care how many people are watching." requested by anon!

↪ WANT A DRABBLE DIARY ENTRY? REQUEST ONE.ᐟ

You would blame Jay for your behavior tonight, but you know he doesn’t wanna hear anything you have to say right now. Your frivolous argument from earlier ceases to exist now that he’s in front of his fellow executives and company employees.

Jay has an image to uphold as the perfect husband and steadfast Chief Executive Officer. Typically, he’s nice to talk to, dedicated to his work, and firm in his business dealings. And he loves you, so much so it’s incapable of description on most days.

But right now, you just want to throw your drink in his face and take a town-car home.

You discuss the company’s newest merger with Jake, Jay’s CFO, and Jake makes a sensual joke that causes you to giggle into your champagne flute. Jay seemingly materializes from thin air next to you, wrapping his arm across your back and staring daggers at his friend. “Sim, please excuse us for a second.”

Jay pulls you to the wall to ceiling glass windows on the other side of the ballroom and hisses in your ear, “You keep acting like a little brat and I'll take you over my knee right here, I don't care how many people are watching.”

You roll your eyes and drink more alcohol from your flute, but he takes the wrist holding your glass in his hand. “So, this is how you want to play it tonight?”

Tonight, you decide to test his limits for pushing you to the precipice of anger.

And now, splayed out on your stomach on his desk with palm prints on your ass and his dick buried inside of you, you realize his anger is just as amplified as yours.

“Do you want him now, huh? Think anyone else can give you what I can?” A loud smack and your subsequent moan hits the air.

“No, Seongie, never,” you plead.

You know the two of you are able to make as much noise as you want in his soundproofed room, muted from the inside for this exact reason, but you think Jay may be pushing you so someone could try to hear exactly what you both are doing.

He wants to prove to everyone in the building who you belong to, and why you’ll always choose him over anyone and anything. No matter how angry the two of you become at one another, it'll always come back to this.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @yvnempire

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[yoursjaeyun]

SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY

When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it.  or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you. 

MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 13.6k

CONTENT―  he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.

nsfw tags under cut::

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.

A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.

She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.

Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises. 

“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–” 

The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her. 

“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.” 

You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry. 

And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job. 

Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush. 

When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird.  She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope. 

Suspicious.

Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back. 

Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you. 

Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?

Best Friend: you need it, trust me. 

So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look? 

He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”

Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs. 

“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him. 

You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space. 

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag. 

“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle. 

“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed. 

“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.

“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows. 

Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you? 

Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough. 

“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.

You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness. 

“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights. 

You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one. 

“Little more.” He smiles

You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture. 

“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.

And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile. 

Stunning. 

This motherfucker is stunning. 

“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.” 

You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are. 

At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice. 

If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder. 

You’re uncomfortable. 

The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation. 

You’ve never been one to care, so why start now? 

“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship.  Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves. 

No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business. 

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…

Expensive. 

Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too. 

You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet. 

One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this. 

And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state. 

The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura. 

The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.

His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him. 

Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.

You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs. 

Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.

He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away. 

Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.

“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.” 

That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows. 

You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move. 

“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”

Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be. 

He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client. 

“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.” 

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule. 

And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable. 

Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.

The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given. 

And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend. 

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again. 

He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like. 

“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.

Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. 

He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind. 

This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.

He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type. 

And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this. 

The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.

Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable. 

You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless. 

And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.

As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile. 

In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him. 

He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.

He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves. 

Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.

The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.

This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.

He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking. 

Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal. 

And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you. 

It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen. 

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him. 

Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.

He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you. 

You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on. 

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”

Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.

You.

On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.

And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night. 

Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod. 

He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you. 

And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.

“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately. 

He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face. 

“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there. 

“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all  of my clients.” 

Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate. 

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward. 

“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..  

Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”

You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.

Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest. 

“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here. 

“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”

Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.

“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his. 

“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.

You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants. 

“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”

To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you. 

His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you. 

And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.

Are you…waiting to be told what to do? 

For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you. 

“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show. 

Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through. 

He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.  

It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait. 

“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.

You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down. 

Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”  

You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power. 

Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. 

Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands. 

“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here. 

It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way. 

“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence. 

In fact, he’s hiding his face.

You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him. 

The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.

“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?” 

It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients. 

“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.

Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction. 

“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?” 

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you. 

“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now. 

“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”

A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.

“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.” 

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please. 

“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”

“Go on then, dance.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along. 

He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.

So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin. 

  And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there. 

“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”

Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy. 

“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.” 

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. 

You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. 

Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this. 

“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you. 

Oh. 

“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line. 

“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?” 

You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him. 

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him. 

He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.

“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.” 

Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers. 

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier. 

“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it. 

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”

That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties. 

Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you. 

And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.

“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you. 

“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are. 

“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”

Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him. 

And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out. 

He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you. 

“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”

He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.

Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.

“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”

And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster. 

Painfully faster.

“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”

And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.

It’s…overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out. 

When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck. 

And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again. 

His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it. 

“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know. 

This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate. 

Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either. 

Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.

His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. 

His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it. 

“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his. 

Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend? 

The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?

Yes.

“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.

And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.

“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it. 

He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered. 

“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”

Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted. 

You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers. 

Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue. 

“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy. 

To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.

“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?” 

To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours. 

His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.

The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.

His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.

It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.

You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking. 

“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often. 

And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.

You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.

“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this. 

And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure. 

Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows. 

“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will. 

And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back. 

He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.

“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.

“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. 

“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring. 

And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis. 

If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence. 

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.

“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”

Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you. 

You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again. 

Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now. 

He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it. 

And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.

When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace. 

And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?

“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.

“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”

The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.

Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside. 

Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.

“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”

“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.” 

Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did. 

“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even. 

He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him. 

Surprisingly, you believe him. 

After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest. 

Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn. 

So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.

Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable. 

Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.

“Wait, you’re serious?” 

You nod shyly, blinking at him.

“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”

Jake nods happily, without question even.

“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”

You narrow your eyes at him. 

“Jerk off like a normal person?”

Fair enough.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D

[yoursjaeyun]

higher than heaven ᯓ 𝚌𝚜𝚋

SFW version of my fic posted here on @heechwe .ᐟ

୨୧ pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 10.3k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst ୨୧ tags: guardian angel!soobin, human!reader, mutual pining ୨୧ synopsis: Soobin, your devoted guardian angel, has one singular purpose in his ethereal existence: to bring your heart's deepest desires to life. Unbeknownst to him, his mere presence fulfills that desire. Yet, the lingering question remains— how can he effectively transform your most intimate dreams into reality? ♬ playlist: iris | nightly, dizzy | yueku, unbreakable | jamie scott, monsters | joan, feel every bit | the ivy, infinitely falling | fly by midnight, kiss my scars | august royals, next to me | peter fenn, hideaway | jacob collier, salvation | gabrielle aplin, magic island | tomorrow x together ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: First fic of 2025! I’d like to thank @lovetaroandtaemin, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, @ylangelegy, @gyubakeries, and @xomakara for beta-reading this fic for me, I know it was a quick journey and I appreciate every one of you who followed the story from the beginning to the end 🤍.

The time fills as plastic shot glasses and empty solo cups discarded into trash bags. Some stragglers of the party lay on the couch or floor, but you pass by them with ease. You sigh before Beomgyu stops you with a sharp tug. "Dude, you don't have to help me. You're supposed to be one of my guests!"

"I'm just avoiding the inevitable tomorrow. And if you come into the shelter late because you procrastinated cleaning your own apartment, I may just kill you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, boss.” He rolls his eyes and unfurls the empty bag you had between your hands moments before. You giggle in earnest.

“If I get a single text, Gyu–”

“Why don’t you enjoy the early morning hours of New Year's and get out of here?" He shoves you towards the door of his apartment with an "I love you” to follow you out, determined to do what you swear he won't without your help.

Beomgyu may be your childhood friend, but habits hold on tight with him. It’s clear from the three years he’s worked at your animal shelter. Your parents always said he has good intentions, although he’s brash in decision-making. "The kid just asks for forgiveness more than permission most of the time," your dad would joke, and Beomgyu wouldn’t disagree.

Your parents’ words replay in your head on the walk home. You hear every piece of parental advice with each step on the cobblestones, the clack or your heels accompanying every word. It's customary on New Years to feel the ache of their absence so strongly. Your thoughts of them are as vivid as the pain of their loss. It seems to haunt you more with every year that passes.

One day, you had been tagging new intakes and cleaning food bowls like normal. The next you were receiving the call that your parents had been in a fatal car accident. Every space they inhabited, including the shelter, felt colder, quieter, a little less like home. Even your own house twenty minutes from your job barely felt like your own.

Five years of grief made the pain manageable, but on nights like tonight, it doesn’t feel like you’ve made much progress..

The cold of January accompanies the repetitive emotional and mental cycle you're on. The weather bites with a hard set of teeth, almost more brutal than the traces of sadness you feel in your heart.

You don’t realize amid the somber trek home how close the surrounding shadows are, one of a stranger within an arm’s distance.

Your animals greet you at your door with perky barks and whooshing tails. Mina and Minho, your two tabby cats, seem to be delighted that you’re back, but save the ecstatic greetings for their canine siblings. Key, your senior chihuahua, does what he can energy-wise compared to Bori, your labrador mix.

“Bobo, please,” you beg as she jumps up on you when you kneel at her eye-level. It’s all a mess of slobbering tongue and eager pants with her. Once she’s done, you rub Key between the ears to give him some affection.

Even your hedgehog, Rio, taps against the glass of his enclosure to say hello to you. It’s almost like every pair of animal eyes asks you how the party went and why you left them alone for so long.

You can’t supply them with an answer, because you notice the person-shaped figure at your kitchen counter, silent and clouded in darkness. The sight makes you release a decibel-breaking scream.

You grab an umbrella from the iron wrack near your door and charge to the kitchen, expecting Key and Bori to follow you and bark aggressively at the intruder. They don’t, but they do pad behind you in curiosity at your strange actions.

They barely react at all when you turn on the light in the small kitchen. The new illumination reveals the black-haired stranger dressed in white. He says nothing, but holds a smile of mirth on his face at your line of defense. He's neither scrawny nor muscular, but towers over you to a surreal degree. 

You think you can take him if you have the element of surprise, but with the alcohol still buzzing through your veins, you may lack complete hand-eye coordination. It’s anyone’s guess.

“What do you want? If you’re looking for money, you got the wrong house, buddy.” You say with a steady voice, aiming the sharpest point of the umbrella in his direction.

He smiles wide, pearly teeth and a set of dimples almost blinding you. “I’m Soobin.”

His lack of an answer and warm smile throw you off. It’s definitely not the reaction anyone expects from a burglar. Maybe the guy's intoxication is even greater than yours, enabling him to enter someone's home without permission. No matter the reasons, you don’t release your hold on the umbrella. You stare him down hard despite your shaking hands.

“Well…Soobin…I don’t know what you want, but you’re not gonna find it here.”

“I’m in the exact place I need to be.” He says your name with the same level of warmth that remains in his smile, but your blood runs cold at the fact he is aware of who you are. Was he stalking you? Had he stopped by the animal shelter while you were too busy to make a mental note of him? “Put down the umbrella and we–”

“Get the fuck out of my house, you creep!” You raise the umbrella as high as you can before it falls on his head, shoulders, or any location on his body that will stun him. He knows it’s coming, though.

Soobin somehow materializes right in front of you before you can step forward, taking your wrists gently in one hand to stop you. “There’s no need for that. I’m not here to harm you.”

You struggle in his hold, trying your hardest to release yourself from his grip with all of your might. Then, you freeze, unsure of how both his speed and his lack of alarm to your furry animals makes any logical sense.

Soobin senses your lack of effort to go through with your attack and lets go of you, taking a small breath of air. “Will you drop the umbrella?”

“Once you tell me what you are,” you whisper. “My dogs would have ripped off your ankles by now, but they didn’t. Why?”

Soobin chuckles, but you feel anything but humorous. “The why to that question is a bit hard to explain. But I can tell you why I’m here.” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly bashful. “Let’s just say I have a mission to complete.”

Soobin sits at one end of the couch, hands in his lap, while you sit on the other. Your dogs lay at the edge of the couch, snoring peacefully now that the chaos is over. Your knees sit tight against your chest, still guarding yourself from him or any potential advances he may make.

You may not think he wants to kill or rob you anymore, but that doesn’t mean you’re immediately trusting of the stranger. One that is no doubt breathtaking, but still hiding his intentions.

You size him up, still unsure how or why the guy is familiar with you when you’ve never seen him before. He can barely provide you with an adequate answer for the questions that pop into your head.

Where are you from? How do you know me? Have we ever met before?

He chuckles at each one, continuing on with the same reflexive response. “Proprietary information.”

You roll your eyes. “Every time you say that, you sound like some kind of spy.” You move closer to his spot on the couch, looking at him with more intensity than before. 

The analysis makes him laugh even more, his cheeks turning pink. “I’m not an alien, if that was your second guess.”

“That’s not what I was thinking!”

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “You look like you’re about to cut me open with a scalpel.”

Your lips transform into a firm line. “Should I want to, Soobin? Maybe you’re saying you’re not an alien to throw me off.”

“Trust me, I am not an extraterrestrial. Not cool enough.”

You can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous situation you find yourself in, matching the smile on Soobin’s face with your own. An hour ago, you were about to kill him in self-defense for what you assumed was a classic break-in scenario. Now, you’re laughing with your would-be victim. This has to be the most peculiar first day of the year you’ve ever had.

He claps his hands softly on his white denim jeans. “We should call it a night. You’re probably tired. I can explain more tomorrow, if you’d like.”

You look around your house, unsure where Soobin is planning to stay for the next few hours. The one-bed-and-bath cottage is anything but roomy, most of your space taken up by work supplies or your animals’ stuff.

He senses your trepidation and grins. “Don’t worry, I can come back in the morning.”

You suck in a breath. Most of you feels relief, but there’s a small inkling of sadness that pervades your emotions. You barely know Soobin, but his presence provides a warmth that your home has been missing.

It has to be the last traces of alcohol and the simmering grief still in your system.

“Okay. I have work in the morning, but–”

“I’ll be here before you have to leave,” Soobin cuts you off. He holds his hand out in a goodbye, and you take it. His soft palm meets yours and heats your skin, and you have to cut the parting short to not feel any more flustered.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, love.” He leaves you with one more grin before he exits, confusing you further. 

The touch of his fingertips on you follows you into sleep, his skin the last coherent sensation you have before it all goes black.

There is a murky quality to the dream you find yourself in. You’re surrounded by grey, the color’s opacity fading only partly as the details become clearer.

The room around you looks more like a cavern than a traditional room. It’s made of stone, cavelike and primitive. The entrance to the area is too vast for a normal door. It’s almost as if you could step out and fall into nothing but clouds. The world outside is a mixture of inky blacks and dark blues, signifying nighttime outside the four rocky walls.

You look back to the inside of the space. It holds a desk covered with paperwork and photographs. You’re alone, standing in the center of it all, but too far away from the papers on the table to see any information.

Before you can step closer, Soobin enters with a blonde man hot on his heels. They both walk right through you, seemingly not noticing your presence at all as they continue their discussion. 

They emit their own light somehow, the room nowhere near as dark as when you were alone inside of it.

“If you fail at this, Yeonjun will demote you and have no qualms about doing it.” The blonde man ruffles his hair in frustration, and inches closer to Soobin. They clearly have a close relationship, from the concern on the stranger’s face to the hand that he rests on Soobin's shoulder. “You’ve worked too hard to lose everything, Soobin.”

“I know, Hyuka,” Soobin says in a somber tone, sorting through the papers on his desk. “But she needs me now more than ever. And I know I can help. And if I succeed, I can actually—“

“I get it. We’re just not supposed to get involved unless we’re certain about it. You know this.”

Soobin sighs. “You didn’t see her, Kai. I have to.”

The man named Kai exhales a deep breath and walks away, his pleas seeming to hit a brick wall. The last thing he says, “I hope you know what you’re risking,” barely makes it to your ears. All you notice before Kai’s departure is the unfurling of wings from his back, the white and gray feathers spouting from the tendons just below his shoulders.

You scream when he drops from the entrance, his wings carrying him away. You don’t care if the sound alerts either of the two men, not after witnessing such an unrealistic moment.

You scream again when you hear the unfurling of Soobin’s wings, the sound almost whipping you onto your back from the gust his wings emit. They’re dark grey, larger than Kai’s are. They create such long-casting shadows that you have no question now what Soobin is or where he comes from.

The word replays in your mind as the surrounding scene dematerializes and you wake up with a rapid heartbeat: an angel.

Soobin waits at your door in the same white button-up and jeans he had on the night prior. You welcome him inside, and he looks more ethereal somehow in daylight. 

The dream hits you again with its full force, the image of his grey wings flashing across your memory.

“So, you’re an angel,” You say, filling the space between you both with a new tension. The anxiety only permeates from you; Soobin exudes an air of calm instead, despite your accusation.

He almost ticks his head down in a nod as he responds with the words, “Proprietary information.”

You nod your head and gulp hard. Somehow, the aura around you and the subtext in his expression tells you what you know to be true.

He showed you all you needed to know last night through your dreams, a miraculous loophole to the restrictions placed upon him.

When you’re finally ready to go to work, the morning chores around the house finished before Soobin even made it to your doorstep, you look over at the man in front of you again with trepidation. The white attire may lead to a multitude of questions that you and Soobin cannot answer.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Soobin asks, confused.

You laugh and shake your head, any residual tension from your realization broken. “You look a bit too…uniform for the shelter.”

“Oh! Well…” He blushes, unsure how to respond.

An idea pops into your head when his words come up short. “I may have some old stuff that’ll fit you.”

“Why is the rando wearing your dad’s windbreaker?” Beomgyu asks while cleaning Jin, the newest adoptee at the shelter. His eyes peer over at Soobin filling some food bowls with kibble. Soobin’s presence fills the space the same way it did in your house.

He wears your dad’s long-sleeve shirt, windbreaker, and khaki pants well. Despite his freakishly tall height, the clothes don’t look small on him, and you’re relieved he’s able to fit in like any normal guy with the change in wardrobe.

You scoff, continuing to fill out the documents for Jin’s tag and vaccinations without looking up at your friend. “Soobin’s new in town and lost everything on the plane ride here. He just needed to borrow some stuff until his luggage gets delivered.”

Beomgyu nods, still concerned. He goes back to scrubbing Jin’s coat with the anti-tick shampoo, and you leave his spot at the cleaning station to stand beside Soobin.

“You do this every day? These bags are heavy, even for me.” Soobin grunts and clips the bag closed.

“I usually make Gyu or another volunteer do it. But you saved me the trouble of asking.” You smirk and take two of the bowls in your hands. “Want to help me feed the dogs?”

Soobin’s eyes light up, and he nods. You wonder as you walk to the cages if he’s ever interacted with animals before he left his home in the skies.

Since you were a kid, the shelter has always been a part of your daily regimen. Once college was out of the way, you had a stable job waiting for you to practice your veterinary degree on. While some could only handle so many cat scratches, dog poops, and absurd origin stories, it made every day worth it in your eyes. And the fact that you had a history with tending to furry friends with your parents only made it more worthwhile to continue doing.

The second you open the cages to let the dogs eat, you recognize how natural Soobin is at the job. He talks to them in a childlike voice and rubs their bellies as they munch on kibble and necessary medicines you give in between feeding. Even the dogs with the rougher backgrounds take to Soobin like a bee to honey, the warmth he naturally exudes relaxing them.

He truly is an angel, you realize, and not just in the literal sense.

You lock up the shelter for the day with a lot less weight on your shoulders thanks to Soobin. “I might as well give you the keys to this place. It suits you well,” you joke.

Soobin tucks his hands into his windbreaker, smiling hard. “It just came easy, I guess. Animals aren’t like people. They don’t have to hide behind words. It’s all about energy.”

You look at him as you walk away from the building together, your face softened from his words. “My mom always used to say stuff like that. To her, animals were the bestest friends you could ever ask for. She’d say it’s like they see into your soul.”

Soobin grins. “She seems lovely.”

You swallow hard, balling your hands into fists inside your jacket. It’s not anger that permeates your body now, not the way it used to. All that exists is the reality that their words are simply memories. “She was. My dad too. That place was their second home.” You wave your arm in the direction of the shelter. The building diminishes from view as you round the corner to head home. “And mine, too.”

“Did you envision this being your life?” Soobin asks, the question taking you by surprise. “I don’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s okay!” You laugh. “I mean—I love working with the animals every day, and I have great friends. It just can be very routine sometimes, like there’s this gap that I can’t fill.” You hold back the more intimate details of your desires to Soobin, still guarded and uncertain of being so vulnerable so soon.

He steps closer, the walk becoming more intimate with his shoulder almost brushing yours. “You’ve been alone for quite a while. It’s understandable to want to share your life with someone.”

You blush hard, a mixture of the January cold and his correct assumptions building a steady heat on your cheeks. “That’s what most people want, I guess.”

Eyes widening, you realize now why Soobin may be discussing these things with you. Could his super secret mission, which he discussed the night you met, relate to right now?

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, stopping on the stone street. Soobin only gets a few paces farther than you before he stops.

“Is there something wrong?” He asks, his eyebrows drawn up and his mouth in a small O that you would normally giggle at.

Now, you have no time for humor.

“Did you come here because of the stupid wish I made on New Year’s Eve?”

“Taehyun, if you give me another shot, I will throw up!” You exclaim in a fit of giggles, three drinks already in your system over the last hour and a half. His girlfriend, Kazuha, stands by your side as she downs the shot in her hand, her mouth puckering as she swallows it down. “Zu, I thought you were the DD tonight!”

“Fuck it, I’ll call an Uber.” She winks and chases the shot with a sip of beer. Beomgyu wades through the throng of people in his living room to join all of you in the kitchen.

“Taking shots without me? That’s a party foul.”

“Whatever, man. It’s not like we can’t make more.” Taehyun passes him one filled with tequila to catch up, and Beomgyu downs it in the next second. By the time the buzz of the drinks hits your head, Jungwon barrels into the kitchen with his own girlfriend Yeri to tell you all that the ball is dropping.

Everyone crowds around the television to watch the remaining minute of the year play out. The strangers around you scream out the last seconds, others speak in a drunken lilt.

You turn to your friends, somehow the only person without someone attached to their hip. Beomgyu is holding a random girl's shoulder, while your other friends stand closely together in their respective couples, watching the countdown..

“Four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!” Beomgyu says the words into his date’s neck before kissing her roughly on the lips. Your other friends have their own celebratory make-out sessions. You feel like an intruder as they all enjoy the moment in their respective couples.

You’ve never been a grouch about your single status, not once. But it felt like a part of you was missing out with little of a choice in the matter. Whether by the confines of chance or love simply not being meant for you for the past twenty-seven years, you can only be comfortable for so long before the pain of solitude drains you dry.

Was it so awful to want to find someone to share funny videos with? To talk to about days at the shelter when a cute animal comes in and needs a loving home? When days are heavy on your heart and you need the one you love the most to lift you up and make it all evaporate with a simple “I love you”? To make every struggle and hardship, no matter how big or small, worth it?

And so, with only a drunken mind and heart to listen to your deepest whims, you wish for what seems the most out of reach as your eyes line with tears: a soulmate to bridge the gap between your loneliness and true fulfillment.

When the reality of why Soobin’s here hits you, you can’t help but release one of the loudest laughs you’ve ever emitted before.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” you say with exasperated breaths, all the air in your lungs saved mostly for your laughter. “You came all the way from up there to play matchmaker?”

Soobin chuckles to himself, the sounds that leave his lips a lot quieter than yours. “You make it sound so childish.”

“Can you blame me?” You ask. “I don’t need help in that department!”

Soobin gives you a knowing look, hitting you somewhere deep in the chest. “Then I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

“Okay, don’t speak in riddles to me!”

“I’m just stating facts, love.”

You roll your eyes, and Soobin laughs again. “So you’re magically going to find me the perfect partner after only knowing me for 48 hours?”

“I’ve known you for much longer than that.” He steps even closer to you, your fingers brushing his as he stands a few inches from you. “But again, it’s—“

“Proprietary information, I get it,” you whisper. You cough into your fist and glide past him, the moment broken. “Either way, I am just fine with or without a boyfriend, Soobin.”

He follows behind without a word, but you sense his smile without looking at him. Jerk.

Soobin has helped many people in his immortal life. It’s an existence he couldn’t fill in just one book. He’d have to go back centuries to the very moment he started his work as a guardian. His life began long before that, but his true merits came when he started helping those who needed supernatural guidance.

He’s seen from his eagle’s eye view many heartbreaks, losses, successes, and love stories, but nothing as encapsulating as the story of your life.

You were a vision to see the first time you held an animal in your hands, hands tepid but heart full from the creature giving all of its affection to you for you to reciprocate wholeheartedly. He was in awe of you when you stepped across the stage with your degree, eager to put all the knowledge you gained about medicine to a good use. And his ever-still heart ached with yours the second you got that phone call in November five years ago, wanting nothing more than to catch you before your knees hit the tile below.

You’re the one assignment he’s kept too close an eye on, the others in his caseload not holding his focus so strongly. He succumbed to forbidden desires, wishes he knew were unattainable.

But the second he felt your heart break on the one night he knew he could seize the chance to step over the border between Heaven and Earth, he chose the only option that felt right: he had to leave home and heal what needed to be mended inside of you a long time ago.

He watches you help the teenage girl adopting her first pet with immense adoration. 

You check off the supplies needed for Jin and all the vaccines the dog will need moving forward with clinical focus. It’s admirable how dedicated you are to your work, not caring if it went beyond the bounds of a traditional work-life balance.

And when you wave the teenager and her parents out the door and turn to him with a signature eye-roll, he can’t stop the way his skin heats. Your gaze in his direction screams: How long are you going to keep pestering me?

Forever, he says to himself with a hell of a lot of hope.

When you’re both alone in the shelter, one hour after you’re closed for the day, you sweep the floors in a huff. “I am telling you I do not need you to play matchmaker for me.”

“You keep saying that and yet I’m still here, love,” Soobin tuts, flipping through the magazine on top of your desk. He sits at the chair opposite from the receptionist counter so casually, feet crossed and casual despite his heart yearning to explain everything to you.

I’m here because I can’t take any more of your pain. Because someone deserves to know how special you are. Because I—

“I can find a date without your help. Beomgyu already took up that role a long time ago. He’s been pestering me about going out with his friend Heeseung for months. So there.” You stick your tongue out at him and continue sweeping.

Soobin chuckles to himself and flips to another page of the magazine, but he can’t deny how his focus remains on you, the center of his attention, for longer than he expected.

“Lee Heeseung, twenty-two. Works at the ramen shop downtown. Entirely incompatible with you. Just for your information.”

You stop sweeping and aim an accusatory eye at him. “And that’s not proprietary information how?”

“I’m not looking out for him. And that only took a couple of Google searches to figure out, love.”

By the time you lock up the store, Soobin is in the habit of checking the door behind you to make sure you didn’t miss the back door or forget to close the play-gate on the way out. Two weeks of observing your routine up close has given him incredible intel, and not just into your schedule.

“Let’s walk past downtown,” Soobin suggests, taking your hand and walking through a new pattern of alleyways and cobblestone paths. 

You’re unsure why this route that adds another ten minutes to your walk is worth the trouble, but you take his advice, anyway. He’s your angel for a reason, after all.

“Soobin, unless you suddenly got a hankering for human food, we really should—“

You knock into someone’s shoulders hard; the impact sends you to the gravel. Soobin vanishes from view, his name on your tongue the second you recognize that you’re on the ground.

A pair of hands that aren’t Soobin’s, more calloused and robust, lift you up off the ground.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been standing so close to the alleyway.”

A beautiful pair of brown eyes gaze at yours, and it stops you dead in your tracks. The stranger’s brown hair falls over his face in a mess of free curls, some of them tinged with sweat. He wears a baking apron around his waist; flour and, you presume, icing cover his shirt.

You look at the building next to you, the pastel pink sign reading “Gyu’s Baked Goods” beaming over your head. And you turn back to the man in question, the baker himself as his hands keep you sturdy on your scraped feet.

“It’s totally fine. I’m the one who should be sorry. I mean, I wasn’t looking anyway and I—“

“No, you don’t have to apologize. This is what I get for taking a smoke break when I have cupcakes to make, right?” The baker chuckles and releases you. Your heart thumps at a rapid tempo when he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Mingyu. Sorry I’m built like a mountain.”

You chuckle and take his hand, the handshake gentle for the size of his palm. It reminds you of a sturdy fireplace, strong but tender. “Pleased to meet you. Apologies for having the build of a leaf.”

Soobin looks on with a knot in his stomach from an opposite alleyway. The process has begun, and he cannot halt its progress. No matter if he wants to be the one in the human male’s place.

Soobin watches on as Mingyu stands with you by the kennels, acid simmering on his tongue from watching the two of you in such a chummy position.

He clutches the novel in his hands with intense pressure, on the edge of ripping pages between his fingers. For the past week and a half, you and Mingyu have spent time together as new acquaintances, giving Sobbing time to read mortal literature.

He should be happy for you; his initial plan to find someone who fits your life and wishes so well is going perfectly. Yet why does he wish he could rewind time and take it back?

To your pleasure and Soobin’s secret dismay, Mingyu’s surprise gift of homemade mini animal treats made the day an amazing experience for all three of you.

You pay no mind to Soobin’s sudden and off-putting sulking as you show Mingyu around the animal shelter, your new friend interested in your job as much as you’re intrigued by him.

Beomgyu saunters up to Soobin with a bag of kibble in his hands, clicking his tongue. “It’s tough, isn’t it, man?”

Soobin huffs and looks at the younger man, the aura around your friend similar to his back home. If only Kai could see him now, grumbling and pouting like a kicked puppy. 

“What is?”

“Seeing the girl you like with someone else. I mean, she’s pretty great so I get it.”

Soobin rolls his eyes and goes back to the novel in his hands to distract himself. His jaw ticks when he hears your laughter. The sound creates such a beautiful symphony to his ears, but it’s not reserved for him at the moment, and it makes his stomach turn. “You’re wrong.”

“Okay, dude. I get it. None of my business.” Beomgyu lifts the bag over his shoulder and starts walking, but looks back at Soobin with a smirk. “But maybe it might be mutual if you gave it a shot.”

Soobin scoffs at the kid, and then at himself for the split second he entertains the idiot’s idea. Soobin can pine all he wants, but he knows the boundaries. A multitude of reasons prevent this line from ever being crossed.

He may have incredibly powerful feelings for you, but they’re hidden away and unable to reach the light of day. Not just because he has a strategy for you and Mingyu, but he is not an acceptable suitor because he doesn’t belong here, simply put. Earth is only a temporary stay on his list. And when he goes back and reports to Yeonjun of his success, who knows what will happen?

All he knows is that your paths will cross only once in his and your lifetime, and never again.

Soobin almost remains stuck in his misery until you walk up to him with an orange icing-colored dog bone treat in your hands. You hold it out to him with a shy smile. “For you.”

He smirks, taking the snack from you and rotating it between his fingers. “Isn’t this for the dogs, love?”

And the signature eye roll comes, your bottom lip between your teeth as you do it. “They’re organic. Anyone can eat them.” You look back at him directly, suddenly concerned. “You can eat, right?”

He chuckles. Nodding his head, he looks back at the snack. “Just not sure if I’ll like it.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Just try it, please?”

Reluctantly, he bites down. Sweet potatoes and carrots, harmoniously blended, flood his mouth. The icing and pinch of cinnamon provides the perfect level of sweetness to round it all out, and Soobin groans. Even the dog treats the guy makes are perfect.

“Okay, it’s pretty great,” Soobin admits, taking another bite. “Even if they’re meant for dogs.”

You laugh and take a tiny corner for yourself. “At least you can say you’ve eaten a dog bone.”

Soobin’s tender smile makes you blush, and it stirs up all the feelings you’ve suppressed when you’re not in his presence. Mingyu’s a welcome distraction from it all. His looks and personality are undeniably attractive, but you always circle back to the angel in your midst.

Who can blame you? He’s ethereal, his magnetism undeniable. But that warmth he’s had from the first day you met is why you can only stay away for so long. He’s a part of your world now, and you can’t imagine that changing in the foreseeable future.

He’s made his place on Earth with you, and you dread the day he has to go back to where he belongs.

The end of January brings the last time for branches to stay vacant of leaves. You notice the small sprouts of leaves amidst the brown limbs as you and Soobin walk back to your house. You bite back a smile, and Soobin comments on it.

It’s like he clenches your heart between his fingers as he says it. “You always hide your excitement like nobody should be watching. Like it’s wrong to be happy about the little things.”

You blush while strolling beside him. “It’s not that I’m hiding it. Maybe I just don’t think anyone will get why I’m happy about certain things.”

Soobin bumps you with his shoulder, a close-mouthed smile on his lips. “Try me.”

You exhale a breath to get your bearings. “Okay, so everyone is always excited about the start of the new year. But then it’s like the excitement dies down and we just go on our merry way until the next holiday comes up. It’s not in the days for me. It’s the environment that always makes me feel the shift, you know?

“Like with animals, almost. The energy is unique, and I feel it when I see the colors and feel the temperature fluctuate.” You shake your head and tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “That may sound stupid, but—“

Soobin stops you on the open sidewalk, taking your hand in his. He looks into your eyes earnestly, wanting you to take his words to heart before he says them. “Nothing you’ve ever said to me is stupid, love. Every thought you have is beautiful because it’s yours.”

Like the town greenery, something shifts inside of you then. Even on the rest of the walk home and the talk over dinner about the day at the shelter, you sense an unfamiliar emotion swirling in the air between you and Soobin. You can’t name it, but it reminds you of the first blooms of spring, brimming with promise.

The first week of February comes in a tidal wave. Many people flood the animal shelter looking for the perfect furry friend to complete their family on the cusp of Valentine’s Day.

All you can hope for is that a majority of them, or at least fifty percent, don’t come back to the shelter after the holiday is over to return the animals looking for forever homes. 

That was the one thing that bugged you the most about this job: biting your tongue at the obvious lack of responsibility people put into owning pets.

It holds more weight than anyone knows, bringing another being in your home to tend to like a child. The only difference is that many of them have histories that deserve more care than normal, and some don’t want to put in the right amount of effort.

You sit on these thoughts as Soobin holds the newest cat to the shelter in his hands. “Have you thought of a name for Mr. Cat yet?” Soobin inspects the spot near the cat’s tail. “Or Missus?”

You giggle and grab the clipboard with the cat’s information on it. “He’s a he, Soob. You can come up with a name.”

He ponders the choices, before his smile grows and he presses his nose to the cat’s. “How about Hyuka?” He rubs the back of the cat’s ears tenderly.

You grin at Soobin and brush your fingers over Hyuka’s fur. “I think it’s a perfect fit.”

Soobin looks over at you with bright eyes, his expression transforming into one that feels like the one you held that day so long ago when he called your thoughts beautiful. A question forms on his tongue, but it flits away the second Mingyu walks through the double doors of the animal shelter with a bouquet of daisies.

At least the jerk knows your favorite flowers, Soobin thinks to himself as he walks with Hyuka back to his block in the back room.

You smile at Mingyu and thank him for the flowers, immediately pressing your nose to them to inhale their smell. “They’re amazing, thank you.”

“My buddy Wonwoo is a florist, so don’t thank me too much. I got a discount even though I should’ve paid full price.”

“Can’t beat a couple bucks off.” You set the bundle down on your desk and cross your arms over the countertop. “I take it you’re not just here to deliver flowers?”

Mingyu chuckles and presses a hand to his neck, his toned biceps stretching out his shirt. “Actually, I was going to ask if you had any plans for Valentine’s.”

You stumble on your explanation, discussing the closure of the shelter for the holiday. “Well,” Mingyu starts, “I was thinking you could come by for dinner. And I promise it won’t just be me making you taste test cupcakes again.”

You laugh, but the sound falls flat. You had always been the one pining, yearning for the boy you liked to like you back. Being on the other side of the coin was not exactly ideal. “Mingyu, you know I appreciate you and I am flattered, but…”

Soobin.

You’re unsure how to continue, but Mingyu holds a hand up in understanding. “I get it. How about I make you a meal, anyway? Consider it a friend treating a friend for all of her hard work.”

You blush and nod. “I’d like that very much.”

You’re washing dried-up wet food from the cat bowls when Soobin walks up to you, his face red. By the time Mingyu left, you expected Soobin to come back to your side so you could wash the dishes together. You did it yourself, seeing as he took forever to come back. Soobin asks with a tone of authority, “What the hell are you thinking?”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, contemplating. “I’m thinking Hyuka’s chances of getting adopted before Valentine’s is about—“

“You know that wasn’t what I meant, love.” He says the pet name with annoyance as he drops one bowl into the sink next to you. His tone catches you off guard, not expecting to see Soobin angry for the first time like this.

“You asked me what I was thinking, and I’m telling you.”

“Why did you say no to the date?” Soobin asks, his eyes blazing with fury. Something without a name sits below though, you can tell.

“I, technically, didn’t say no. It’s just more friendly than romantic.”

“Do you expect me to find you another soulmate like this?” Soobin drops another dirty plate in the sink for you to clean up. You don’t know if the question is exactly for you or for himself.

The tension sits thickly in the air, the running tap the only sound for a good minute or two. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you respond, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

Your cheekiness makes Soobin chuckle deeply. You missed his laugh, you realize, not hearing the sound in a while. Not since before Mingyu came around. “What am I gonna do with you, love?”

You shrug and go back to washing the bowls, hiding your smile behind soap suds and dishwater.

Soobin’s leg shakes as he sits on your couch, watching the clock on the spot above your door. 10:49 PM. He’s been waiting for hours to welcome you home from your “friendly” date with Mingyu. Admittedly, he’s been waiting since the second you left, the night of Valentine’s Day on the forefront of his brain since he heard the meathead ask you to have dinner.

Minho and Key keep him company, the older animals in your horde understanding and patient while Soobin mopes around. The angel feels as impatient as Bori can be when she has to wait for dinner.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Soobin says to Key, the chihuahua’s overbite hanging almost like a taunt. “I’m not stewing.”

He’s definitely stewing. The animals must be saying to each other, conspiring about what will occur when their mother finally gets home.

And on the cusp of eleven, you walk into the house and unbuckle your heels. You watch Soobin on the couch, his hands fidgeting on his lap. “Have you been sitting there for three hours?” You ask in a cute tone that drives Soobin nuts.

“No, I made the animals dinner.” You set your bag on the iron wrack where your coats lie, and throw your shoes in some corner of the living room before Soobin continues with, “So, how was the date?”

You stride to the mirror, beginning to unclasp the flashy studs in your ears. “It was fine. Nothing special. Just two friends having dinner.”

“That’s all it was? No candles at the table, no romantic music, nothing?”

“Why are you so concerned, Soobin? I went out, I had fun, now I’m home.” Soobin’s not prepared to hear your voice so clipped and direct. Your frustration is usually a mask of humor or concern. Not genuine anger, like right now. You don’t look at him directly, continuing to remove your jewelry as your ire grows.

You try to de-escalate the argument by retreating to the kitchen, but he only follows you there. And moving back into the living doesn’t help either. “Stop following me, Soobin!”

“Stop running away,” he barks back.

“I will when you stop making a big deal out of this.”

“It is a big deal,” he says with a scoff. “And am I not allowed to worry about you and who you’re with?” He asks with a bite that matches your irritation.

“Why are you so concerned if Mingyu’s the person you wanted to set me up with in the first place?”

“Don’t ask me that question,” he whispers. His jaw tightens and his hands clam up, but you don’t give in. If he wants to finish the discussion, then you’ll continue to press him for an answer.

“Why? What kind of ‘proprietary information’ relates to how you feel about this? What does me going out with Mingyu and you being a complete ass about it have anything to do with top-secret intel?”

“I love you, alright?!” He yells, standing stock still as his veins pulse in his head and neck. His hands go to the messy strands of his hair, almost like he feels himself going crazy at his own confession. “I did not mean to, and it’s awful. I can’t give you the life you deserve. Someone like Mingyu or any other human man would be lucky to have you, yet I can barely stomach the thought of someone else getting to touch you in all the ways I wish I could. And it’s driving me insane.”

The confession knocks something loose inside of you, remaining inhibitions be damned if it means now that the feelings Soobin harbors mirror your own without a doubt. 

You step closer to him, the tension almost too much to bear any longer. You press your hands to his neck, and bring him closer until your lips are a mere inch apart. “Nothing and nobody’s stopping you, Soobin.”

He takes a deep breath to hold himself back,  grounding himself so he doesn’t do something that will upend both of your worlds. “You don’t know that, love.”

You chuckle softly. “Maybe not, but I do know that I love you too.”

When you brush his mouth with your own, every being in the universe, heavenly or not, ceases to exist in your mind. It’s only you and Soobin in your own world. You want to kick yourself for taking so long to seize this moment, this kiss, with him. For all of the reasons Soobin supplies as to why it’s wrong for the two of you to be together, this could not feel more right.

Soobin only gives himself a second of separation from you to catch his breath before he dives back in for one, two, three more kisses. He moans eagerly into your mouth. He tugs on the fabric of your dress to occupy his hands, his body hungry for any contact he can get.

Heavens do be damned, if it means he can keep you between his arms and against his lips. 

And when you fall asleep that night in his arms a few hours later, you pray to every god you can name that it never ends.

The expectation of waking up to the warmth of Soobin’s arms and kisses dies when you feel his empty side of the bed. You search the entire house, your dogs padding behind you as you search every corner for him. 

To your terror and slowly breaking heart, he remains to be seen. Soobin is gone like he was never there to begin with, your house flooding with a chill that hits you to the core.

You crawl back into bed alone with tears streaming down your face. The only time you rise is to let the animals eat and use the bathroom. For the rest of the day, you remain in bed like a phantom. Half out of your body, half inside of it to feel every ounce of pain. Each shred of sadness reminds you that you still exist, and the man—angel—that you love is gone.

Yeonjun has his head in his hand when another pair of associates throw Soobin in front of his desk. Soobin put up an intense fight in the resulting scuffle to bring him back to the office above Earth, but he doesn’t regret it. The only thing he regrets is not leaving you with some sort of explanation, even something as little as a minute to tell you he loves you.

“When I approved your descent, I expected you to help your assignment. Not sleep with her.” Yeonjun sighs and reads over the paperwork at his desk. “The guys above me are gonna love this.”

“Jun, please.” Soobin falls down on his scraped knees and raises his hands in a prayer. “Let me just tell her—”

“What else is there to explain? You’ve clearly done enough.”

“I’m begging you—”

“You think I’m going to let you spend another second with her and make me look like an idiot? No.” He slams his hand on the desk. “If you’re lucky, Soobin, all the archangels will do is send you to the second circle of Hell. I’m surprised they’re not reprimanding me as your superior. You broke our greatest oath.”

Do not consort with humans, Soobin reminds himself as tears stream down his face. “I love her, Yeonjun. And you know she loves me. Didn’t I do my job? I found her a soulmate, just like she wished for.”

Yeonjun shakes his head with a sad smirk. “Don’t think you can get around our rules this time, Soobin. I just called you here to tell you the council will see you in the morning. Be grateful they’re giving you a chance to explain yourself.”

The angels that brought Soobin in drag him away to the lower cells of the building. As he’s pushed and pulled through dark hallways, Soobin has barely enough time to come up with a plan to fix what he’s ruined. Barely.

Your dream is almost the same as the one you envisioned months ago, the dark cavern welcoming you like an old friend. The fog of your transition from sleep to dreaming still pervades your senses. You barely have time to make out the details before Soobin has you wrapped in his arms, holding you so tightly that you feel the air knocked out of your lungs. “Thank God it worked.”

You sob immediately when you recognize Soobin’s voice and his arms around you. It’s like a magnet the way you gravitate to one another, not worrying if the dream will last a second or into eternity. You can barely remember the pain of being without him now that he’s in front of you.

You call his name as he kisses the crown of your hair. He backs you into the desk at the far end of the room, lifting you up by the legs to sit on its marble top. He trails his lips down until they meet your own, and he says so tenderly, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up.”

Breaking into a fit of sad laughter, you run your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m just happy you’re here with me now.” You kiss him again and again, until your lips feel bruised and sore.

Soobin sheds a tear and looks back into the night outside of his office door. “I don’t have long. They’ll bring me back to my cell soon. But I wanted to tell you I love you. And I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

“W-Why are you being punished? You did what you were s-supposed to,” you stutter, a mournful knot building in your throat.

“I fell in love with a human when I shouldn’t have,” he answers, another tear welling in his eye. “But it was worth every rule I broke. How could I regret finding my best friend?” Soobin smiles despite the pain that you two share. 

You hiccup into his neck. “When will I see you again?”

“I-I don't know. But I’ll fix this,” he assures you, a steadfast determination in his expression.

“You don’t know that for sure, though,” you cry, heart ripping deeper at the seams with each word. 

“I don’t, but for now, know that I love you. I love you more than my existence allows.” He kisses you one more time as the edges of your dream blur. “It’s only for now, I promise.”

When you wake tangled in the comforter on your bed, the morning sky bleeding through your window, you begin the torture of waiting for the person you love most in the world to come back to you.

TWO MONTHS LATER

For the past seven Fridays since Soobin left, you’ve stayed in and waited for the phone to ring or the doorbell to sound, any way to signify that he hasn’t broken his promise. You don’t bother going into work, trying to find any excuse to stay in the house.

Beomgyu tries to get you out, go on dates, avoid the aching hole in your chest, but he doesn’t understand. None of your friends do. They think he’s left without an explanation like another random asshole would, but they don’t understand how wrong they are.

They’ll never understand you’re waiting for the one who took your heart between his hands and still holds it to this day, even if you can’t see him for now.

For now. The words play in your mind on a loop, the sound of Soobin’s voice as vivid as the day he said them between kisses in your dream. It’s only for now, I promise.

This Friday, you take his words to heart and decide to go out. You walk Key and Bori, the morning sun turning into an afternoon sky clear of clouds. The warmer weather signals winter is giving way to spring, although you can still feel the chill in your bones.

When you bring the dogs back home, you’re still too restless to stay inside, too many memories in the house haunting you with Soobin’s presence.

You walk around the town streets, the memories of those you love the most filling your heart with a solemn nostalgia that edges out the parts of you that are still miserable. You and Beomgyu learning to ride bikes around the animal shelter. Your parents treating you to your first scoop of mint chocolate ice cream after you won gold at your spelling contest. The kiss you shared with Soobin in your living room, and all the kisses that followed.

Each one contains longing for the past, yet offers some hope for making fresh memories in the same spots. And even locations you haven’t discovered yet.

By the second trip around the blocks you know too well, nighttime rears its head. The city lights mark the street names and numbers with a yellow glow, the heavens above pitch black.

Your legs are sluggish, ankles sore from continuing through the world around you without stopping for rest, but no physical excursion compared to the mental expedition you’ve been on today, a microcosm for all of your tangled emotions for the past two months.

 You almost give into the demands of your body when you hear the faintest sound of your name behind you. Turning on shaking limbs, you see the perfect contours and edges of the man you love in crystal clarity. His shoulders heave as his face remains wet with tears, his body on the verge of convulsing from the travel back to you.

Although every muscle strains and screams inside of you, you run towards him with all of your might and crash into his arms. The water on your cheeks mixes with his when your skin touches. He kisses each tear before he reaches your lips, his mouth tasting of salt and peppermint.

“I’m here. I’m here, my love.” He strokes your hair with his hand and runs the other across your back.

“I didn’t get to say I love you too, last time I saw you,” you say, the words tumbling over one another as you try getting them about. You’re crying and mumbling and it all feels incoherent, but you know every sound you emit is true.

Soobin chuckles, and you’re reminded how beautiful the sound of his laughter is. “You never had to say it back, my love. I already knew.”

Your heartbeat is erratic, but it doesn’t distract you from the fact Soobin’s heart seems to beat as well. A strong, even-tempered rhythm, one you’ve never heard before. You look him deep in the eyes, needing to hear the words on his lips. “Are you—“

His voice is still hoarse and tattered, but his smile is like the salve to all of your wounds. “I told you I would come back to you.”

You whimper, another tear escaping from your eyes. “You gave up everything for me? Your immortality, your friends, your—”

He presses a finger to your lips before running it over your cheek, his expression soft. “I completed my mission. And my everything is right here with me.”

You kiss his lips, all the I love you’s not enough to encapsulate every feeling and gift Soobin’s given you since he came into your life. You both may be on Earth, one old and one new human soul linked as one, but you know this is what it means to be higher than even the immensity of heaven.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @biteyoubiteme @jjunbug

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[yoursjaeyun]

wife material.

Anonymous asked: Being arranged to jay in a marriage and hes distant at first but notices his new partner who has a nice plush ass, wide hips and plump tits. His brain goes mmm breeding material but youre just an innocent girl with a pornstar body?

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

NOTE: tumblr wouldn't let me answer it as an ask :/ also, not proofread.

So, you're in an arranged marriage for more than one reason. Rather than being "innocent", you're just a total bimbo. Fr, everything you've ever wanted or needed has been handed to you on a silver platter. Your parents are super protective of you though, mostly out of fear that you'd be taken advantage of, right? right.

So, you've never had a boyfriend, no girlfriend, no friends [outside of the maids and nannies that you spend so much time with.] You were homeschooled, never expected to go to college either, because why work if you're already well taken care of and financially protected?

Your parents suggest an arranged marriage, mostly so they can choose and judge who you will be spending your life with. They don't trust you to go out into the world and find someone suitable, after all, so....why not make an arranged marriage work for the whole family? Jay is the first son of a rich C.E.O and is expected to take over the business sooner rather than later. He's polite, bordering too-stoic, but very much a good man in your parent's eyes. He appears to see the arrangement as a business deal rather than anything else, after all, he was raised much like you were except...he's a man. He has needs, and they are frequently met by using the lovely little black card. He's not looking for love anyway, the late nights to the VIP club lounges is really all he needs. Until he saw you. Until he fucking saw you.What he thought would be a great boost to business and a good little photo op, where you're married to him but both of you just do your own thing....turns into, well-

"Shit, are you a virgin?" Jay shushes you before you can answer. Your little whimper of "It hurts" ringing too loudly in his ears. Still, he feels the nod as he presses your face into the pillows with a hand at the back of your neck.

His eyes roll back in pleasure at your nod. Honestly, with a body like that? A virgin? He'd have figured you've fucked around by now. But you haven't, and that just might be the greatest thing he's heard all fucking day. So, he points his hips with intention now, penetrating deep. If at all because he can't fucking help it.

"Can't believe they're just giving you to me." You can't answer with the corner of the pillow in your mouth and all, but even if you could, you wouldn't know what to say to him. Marriage. Business. He'd support you, wait on you hand and foot? Yes. That's what you expected. Honestly, the idea of sex has been forbidden from you for so long that you half expected your father to keep that rule with Jay too, even after marriage. And here you are, meeting him briefly at his house just a week before the wedding. Your driver had dropped you off, the intention of the visit being to finalize all of the wedding details and put in any last opinions considering neither of you are planning it. You really didn't expect to find yourself face down on Jay's bed, where he ushered you the moment he saw you. Muttering something along the lines of "You're alone? Fucking finally." It's not like you entirely mind either, it's not like he didn't immediately make out with you all the way to his bedroom. It's not like you didn't make out with him right back, even if you were surprised. It's really just the fact that you were totally unprepared to have a cock that big shoved in you for the first time on a Monday afternoon. You've wondered for years what it was like to have sex, anyway, always fumbling around with your fingers and never quite feeling as good or as full as you do now. It's overwhelmingly hot, pleasurable, even. And the fact that Jay is handsome only makes this that much better. You'll be marrying him next week anyway, why does it matter if you're letting him do this right now? After next week, your father will no longer be controlling what you do. It'll be Jay, if he wants to. You can only imagine the amount of sex the two of you will be having after it's official, so...you enjoy it. Moaning, groaning, feeling that pit in your stomach intensify with each push of his cock inside of you, his breath on your shoulder, whispering filth to you between questions to get to know you. To anyone else, it would seem insane. But the fact of the matter is, you've never actually been together alone. Never had the opportunity to really get to know each other. "You want kids?" He had whispered right against your neck, pushing deeper into you and holding himself there. You now. "How many?" He half-groans. You managed to moan out a "4", which had him moving faster, harder. "Yeah?" He hummed, kissing your prickled skin and well aware that you're going to have him wrapped around your fucking pinky. "You feel that?" And there it is, the feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you, thick ropes of cum shooting deep against your cervix, the promise of pregnancy coming along side the ring he's about to put on your finger. You moan out, surprised by how you can feel it spilling out of you with each sensitive thrust he offers to you, seemingly pushing his cum in and out of you while simultaneously snaking his hand under you to reach your clit. A whine falls from your lips at the sudden orgasm, so so sensitive, a feeling so intense and new because even when you played with yourself, never did you reach climax like this. You shake under him, clenching his spent length through your own orgasm until he gently pulls out and flips you over. He eyes you over, only now able to see you this closely because he finally got you alone without one of your parent's attached to your side. You really are totally his fucking type. And you're all his. "I think this is going to work out." He mumbles, inspecting you even more closely, ashamed that he didn't even get your top off before pressing you down on his bed. Embarrassed that he didn't have you facing him through your first time. He'll make it up to you next time.

"I'll take good care of you, and I'll be more gentle too." He continues, watching you try to regain your balance of breath. "I didn't know you were a virgin..."

You smile, eyes drowsy, suddenly feeling very sleepy...comfortable. Knowing that this will be the very bed you'll be sleeping in soon enough.

"It's okay." You whisper, clearing your throat and then repeating it in a more confident voice. "If I didn't like it, I would just tell my dad."

Jay's eyes widen, fear reaching his expression as he stares down at you, but you're quick to reassure him.

"I did like it, by the way."

[yoursjaeyun]

— BITE ME ‘TIL IT HURTS | 𝐏.𝐉𝐒

▹ PAIRING: vampire jongseong x newborn vampire reader

▹ GENRE: smut, vampire au

▹ SYNOPSIS: Literally just you and your vampire boyfriend having sex for the first time as an immortal couple…

▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, very rough unprotected sex (expect some crying, hair pulling, and impact play), biting & marking kink, mentions of blood, vampire themes, dom!jay x sub!reader, they’re both pretty feral in this tbh

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.1k — DAY 4

YOU WALKED INTO a reserved room hidden within The Scarlet Speakeasy; a fancy local bar in which your boyfriend Jay would routinely rent out private spaces for the two of you to hang…

Ever since Jay converted you into a member of his kind, he made it his duty to at least maintain some normalcy for you whenever you both craved a bit of seclusion from the outside, mortal world.

Jay was the type who usually spent his time wandering the wilderness, or other dark places void of humanity and their stalking eyes…

However, you,still being an infant to vampire conduct of dwelling amongst wildlife and navigating bloodlust, preferred places more familiar to you, and Jay always kept that in mind when you two were together.

Next week, to celebrate your first full month as an immortal, Jay planned to take you to the Evergreen Woods where he could teach you how to hunt for prey firsthand.

For now though, you simply appreciated every gesture of him smuggling blood bags from hospitals for you, waiting until the time was right for you to get your hands dirty on your own…

You spot Jay sitting on a velvet, loveseat couch, legs crossed knowingly as a certain smell stings within your nostrils, and your senses are heightened enough for you to know the source of the scent came from his jacket.

“Is that a surprise for me, Jay-Jay?” You asked playfully as you made your way over to your boyfriend, joining him on the couch.

“Kinda hard to surprise a vampire with blood, don’t you think?” Jay returns with a smirk before turning to face you, taking the blood bag from his jacket pocket and bringing it to your mouth, “drink up, babe.”

You part your rouge tinted lips for him as you watch him pierce the bag with his fangs so he can feed it to you.

The taste alone was so soothing to you, and although you’ve been a vampire for three weeks, you’re still shocked to find that you actually enjoy drinking the life source of humans—

“Slow down, baby, there’s more where that came from,” Jay chuckled as you hummed around the bag, a bit of blood dripping down the side of your mouth.

Pop.

He took the blood bag from your mouth, making you sulk momentarily until he leaned towards you, licking the excess from your chin and all the way up to your lips.

“So much for my heightened reflexes...” you breathe out as sarcastically as you can manage, but you’re already too effected just from having his mouth so close to yours, and so is he… humming at the delicious contrast between the warm blood and the coldness of your skin…

It's a combination that tantalizes him…

Licking his lips, the residue remaining on his tongue stains his lips, making you want to kiss him even more—

“Don't pressure yourself princess, you'll get the hang of it soon,” he replies with a hoarseness to his tone, and you can't help but notice the immediate change in energy surrounding you two now.

Again, you had only been a vampire for just under 4 weeks, but you didn't know how much longer Jay expected you to ignore your growing sexual urges…

“Sex isn't safe this early,” he unfortunately always said told you whenever you tried making a move on him…

With your newfound strengths as an immortal being came a lifelong-journey of learning how to navigate your gifts and curses, so reasonably so, Jay didn't wanna take any risks too soon.

You could potentially hurt him if you handled your strength incorrectly, or even worse, he could hurt you if you were still meddling between the fragile transition of humanhood to full-blown bloodsucker.

Still, it wasn't like in all those vampire movies, though... you didn't have to die first to become immortal... all it took was your consenting word and Jay's venomous bite to rewrite the course of your entire story, unto forever and forevermore.

And in this moment, you craved nothing more than to experience the thrill of having your boyfriend sink his teeth into you again, or perhaps, something even more exciting…

With mischief lacing your every move, you took the blood bag from Jay’s grasp, tearing yet another hole in it with your fang, letting a thin stream of cherry red decorate the supple flesh of your exposed breasts.

“Whoops!… A little help here?” You offer seductively, and he gives you a knowing look before leaning his head down to catch the blood once again on his tongue, and you let yourself moan at the feeling of him against you this time.

He’s smiles into the contact, and you let your hand find the nape of your boyfriend’s scalp where your fingers get tussled in the clumpy waves of his hair, lifting your chest to deepen things until his nose is practically drowning in your chest.

“God,” he mumbles deeply, and you feel his voice tremble all the way to your core.

One of his free hands grope your left tit, inviting the right one between his hungry teeth and snagging the flesh there.

“Jongseong, be gentle,” you whimper slightly, trying to maintain some stability in your tone, but his actions are already affecting you far too much.

He pulls his head away from your chest, and although you're both vampires, there was a certain warmth to his presence in this moment that you're already missing now.

His eyes, dark and in a haze, scan over your chest, and the dainty mark left behind by his greed makes a small smirk tug at his lips.

“Sorry, sweetheart... I really shouldn't I have done that...” he breathes out, and you're still clutching onto a handful of his locks as you take a few deep breaths of your own.

“Why not? It's not like you have issues with controlling yourself around human blood…”

“It's not the blood that I'm worried about having tasted, love…” he clarifies, looking you dead in the eyes…

It was lust, and he didn't have to utter another word for you to be sure of it... Hell, you could see it clear as day and all over his face…

Jay knew that he wouldn't be able to hold himself back from falling all the way in with you tonight, and he hated that the sultry tension was making him careless.

“You're not gonna hurt me, Jay,” you say in a slightly annoyed voice now, and he knows it's only because you're getting needier by the minute. “And I'm not gonna hurt you,” you continue, but only because he's rolling his eyes at you.

“Do you really believe that, baby?” He asks, and at first you can't tell if he's being sarcastic until his hand reached for yours, holding it in his own while gazing into your dazzling eyes.

She’s earned it, he thought to himself... a chance to explore the riskier sides of intimacy with him in this new life, and at the very least, he could agree it was worth a shot...

“We won't know for sure until we try, Jay-Jay,” you continue, attempting to convince him the best you could, but all he does is give you a look… one that you can feel all the down to your aching core again…

For the next few moments, you both communicate through expressions… your eyes tell him it’s not that big of a deal, but his eyes tell you not to ask for something you’re not truly ready for.

“Ugh,” you scoff, visibly sulking before him, “this is so unbelievably mean of you, y’know that?... We haven’t done anything in… God, I can’t even remember anymore…”

“Aishh… quit acting like you need sex to survive, ____,” your boyfriend tsks, letting go of your hand before sitting back against the couch, adjusting himself in his seat.

Pat, pat.

Jay taps his thighs twice, instructing for you to sit on his lap, and you do, straddling him now as he starts removing his jacket.

The eye contact he holds with you is near-deadly, and you start to feel yourself get nervous as he stretches his arms out to rest on the back of the sofa, seemingly vulnerable but his energy says completely otherwise.

“Take off my belt since you’re so eager,” he dares in a deep voice, and your hands reluctantly yet eventually get to work.

The belt buckle feels cold against your fingers, and the leather strap rough against your touch; all two perfect words to describe what Jay had in store for you tonight...

He lets one of his hands leave the neck rest of the couch before using a finger to tug at the fabric of your leather skirt.

“This too,” he says in a deep tone, “take it off for me…”

Lifting up to your knees, you start to unzip your skirt, but Jay’s hands reach down to rip it off the rest of the way, his strength being so profound that it tore the leather like a flimsy sheet of paper.

Suddenly, he grips your thigh with one hand, keeping you in the position you’re in as he leans closer to your face and whispering against your lips, “You know what you want, princess… now it’s your turn to work for it…”

And he doesn’t have to say much else for you to know what that means…

Deep down, Jay recognized that you weren’t much different from the shy, human girl he first met, and who you used to be… the only difference now was that the primal urges that came with being a vampire had been awakened inside you, and he wanted to be the first soul to witness your newfound boldness come to play.

You start to ride your boyfriend nice and fast, bouncing in his lap at an impressive speed, though its a blur to you how you successfully managed to get his cock inside your cunt in the first place given how nervous you were...

He’s slapping at your tits, and gently at your face, too, challenging you to go faster because he knows you can now.

“C’mon baby, is that all you got?” He huffs, and you whine out of frustration, making him chuckle as you desperately cling to his shoulders, trying to ride him faster than you already were.

“Aww... you gonna cry, baby? Is my cock too much for you?… Hm?” He continues you taunt at the way you seem so affected just from his words... you're just such a teary-eyed mess before him, and he finds the sight so fucking arousing—

“J-Jay,” you whimper, vision foggy from your own tears, “I’m doing the best that I c-can…” you sniffle, but he’s not trying to hear any of it.

“Oh? So this is all you can take then, huh?” He presses, holding your face in place as you keep bouncing in his lap, and you almost sob at the feeling of his cock hitting so deep inside your walls, and so deliciously at that.

“I never s-said that, Jay,” you choke out, feeling your legs tremble at his sides the harder he grips at your face.

Your bouncing starts to slow down, and he pulls your hair, making you cry out even louder.

“Did I say you could slow down?” He growls with darkened eyes now, and you whine in protest, provoking him to only slightly loosen his grip on your hair so you can look at him, foggy mascara decorating your damp eye lids.

Though, you had already dug your finger nails deep into his shoulders, and surely hard enough to leave a mark given the way he hissed out loud.

Jay was right to warn you… you always liked sex better when it was on the friskier side, but you never would’ve expected Jay, your typically loving boyfriend, to be so rough with you... especially not on your first time with him…

“P-please,” you began, walls fluttering around his length, and he can’t help but feel guilt creep up on him now as the tears in your eyes don’t seem to stop.

He doesn’t realize that your tears are tears of pleasure yet, so he releases his grip on your hair completely, cupping the side of your face in remorse as his eyes soften before you... he couldn’t shake the feeling of worry shadowing over him now...

“Are you okay, love?” He whispers with concern, and you only respond by kissing him, gripping at his shoulders once more to which he winced slightly thanks to the pressure you applied to the fresh wounds you left there.

“I’m more than okay, Jay,” you return weakly in between kissing him, “I just want you to take the lead from here…”

The words left your mouth smoother than honey, and the dom in him was going absolutely feral…

You were a sub at heart, so while being on top was fun and all, you still wanted him cry to be in charge of making you feel good tonight…

“Jay,” you say with a light chuckle this time, drawing his sullen eyes back to look at you, “don’t tell me you think I couldn’t take it just because I got a little whiny…”

“A little?” He challenges with a small smile, and you nod, taking his hand in yours and giving it a tender peck.

“Yes... now can we pick up where we left off please, or are you gonna make me beg for that, too?” You pout at him, and he shakes his head in compliance.

“Hmm… you're really needy today, huh?” He smirks at you, and you’re just happy to see him in good spirits again, “and spoiled,” he continues, lips finding yours as the sexual energy immediately returns to its initial high.

Your fingers get tussled in his wavy locks as your tongues intertwine, greedy hums coming from the two of you as your hips circle in Jay’s lap, and you almost forget that his cock was still inside you, until your felt his hands push your hips down further.

He can’t help himself from tumbling off the couch and onto the floor, both of you acting like bitches in heat now.

At first you’re on top, but then he remembers you wanted him to take the lead, turning you over on your back before finding your hands and pinning them above your head.

Keeping your legs wrapped around his waist, your boyfriend wastes no time in pistoling his hips into you, tiny hiccups slipping past your lips again as your body bumps against the carpet.

Your head feels like it’s in the clouds with the way his tip hits all the greedy parts inside you, but you can’t help but want a little more from him… something was missing that you knew would help really take you over the edge...

Slipping your hands from beneath his, you let them find the nape of his neck where you pull him closer enough to kiss you, moaning against his lips as pure pleasure took over every cell and sense you possessed.

“You feel so f-fucking good inside me, Jay-Jay,” you say, words coming out in wobbly mumbles as your boyfriend keeps fucking into you, a gorgeous sheen of sweat glazing his forehead now, “p-please don’t stop…”

And all Jay can do is groan in this moment, also craving a little something more to help him reach his breaking point.

“Baby,” he whispers heavily, and you meet his eyes, both of your cores heating up as the pace of his thrusts don’t cease, “I want you to bite me…”

“W-what?” You question with labored breaths, already feeling a bit bad about having scratched him so hard earlier, and now he was asking you to bite him? Knowing that your baby fangs would likely wound him terribly?...

“I want you to- nnngh… I want you to bite me when I make you come,” he slurs through a moan, hips stuttering slightly as he felt himself slowly losing control, “can you do that for me, princess?”

“Y-yes, Jay,” you whimper, grinding your pelvis with the pace of his movements, and you don’t think you’ve ever had intimacy that felt this good before, “I’ll do anything for you…”

His pubis keeps bumping against your clit with each snap of his hips, and the added stimulation is what really helps you get there, especially with him muttering dirty nothings beneath his breath.

“Ohhh, God!~” You cry out desperately, and your eyes prick with tears again as you cling to your boyfriend’s shoulders, gently biting him there to hide in your sounds.

And the feeling's so delicious for him that he moans out loud, and you’ve never heard such a beautiful sound in your entire life.

“Harder, baby,” Jay huffs in between fucking you wide open, squelching sounds filling the room as you whined against his skin even more, “bite me til it hurts…”

You let your teeth sink deeper into the muscle of his shoulder and that’s when his eyes shut with pure ecstasy, lowering his head between the crook of you neck as his hips tremble, the overflow of sensations being too much for him to bare.

And your walls are clenching around him just as your own climax overtakes you, your back arching against the carpet as he rode out your highs together...

Eventually, he pulls his cock out of you, and you’re initially surprised that there’s no cum there until you remember that’s a factor of being immortal, a.k.a., biologically undead—

“Fuck~,” you both sigh, and his head hangs low over you as he fights to catch his breath, your own vision blurry from the intense pleasure… colorful even as if you’re in a dream...

“That was… amazing,” you say, sitting up on your elbows now as he readjusts his pants before crawling away for a second, grabbing for your skirt that he threw aside earlier.

“It was,” —Jay agrees while licking his lips to get another taste of you— “if we were still mortals, I’m sure our hearts would’ve burst out of our chests from how intense that was,” he continues with a deep look on his face, despite the humor of his comment… and it’s genuinely almost like he can hear it… your two hearts beating… even though he knows they’re not there anymore…

He slides the tight leather skirt back up your hips to cover you, and you help by lifting yourself from the ground, smiling as his cold fingers work the fabric over your curves.

“You’re gonna have to buy me a new one after this, y’know that?” You ask comically, and Jay lets out a small chuckle at both your words and the raunchy tear in your skirt.

“I know,” he hums, kissing the part of your thigh that was exposed thanks to the torn leather before sucking the flesh between his teeth slightly, making your fists ball at the sudden feeling.

“J-Jay,” your voice stumbles, and you feel his fingers slide under your skirt before gliding across your sensitive folds, making your legs squirm once again.

“Jay,” you say again, and this time you grab his hair for what seems like the tenth time all day, his lips releasing from your skin with a wet pop and revealing the dark hue brewing on your flesh now.

“A mark for a mark, princess,” he whispers through a subtle smirk, and your eyes flicker to the bite pattern you left on his neck earlier, reminding you that your bond between each other was more than the average young love story:

It was blood bound, fueled by the lusts of your two immortal hearts and renewed by the nature of a love that'd last eternally...

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone reading this fic, which actually concludes DAY 4 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

@d-dilemma

[yoursjaeyun]

GUYS PLSPLSPSLSPSLSPLS DO NAWT READ MY OLD WORKS

[yoursjaeyun]

the start of time | 𝐩𝐣𝐬

୨୧ pairing: park (jay) jongseong x reader ୨୧ word count: 8.6k ୨୧ genre: angst, semi-fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: friends to strangers to lovers, childhood friends, miscommunication, pet names (baby, love, etc.), unprotected sex, TRIGGERS FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND PARENTAL ABUSE IN THE LATTER HALF OF FIC. ୨୧ synopsis: You've lost your creative spark for the first time since moving away from Jeju Island, leaving behind your best friend in the process without an explanation. But when a work assignment sends you back to your hometown, truths come to light and perhaps lost love can come back with a little time and effort. ➸ bless @pars-ley for following this fic to the very beginning and being one of the best betas ever! this story is for you, ley, and thank you ♡ 💿Listen to the story's playlist here!

Over the thin railing that separates Jay from the cliffs below, the waves crash violently together. The weather mirrors the feelings circulating through his veins. The ripples of the seabed meeting the sand make him long for what his life could be instead of its current state. The wind whips his trenchcoat in angry thrashes against his back. His hands grip the lighthouse’s iron bars to keep his body steady. The upcoming storm was forecast last night to be one of the biggest downpours of the summer.

As the second in command of the lighthouse keeper, his father, it’s standard practice to be prepared for what’s to come. As the sea continues its visceral reaction to the weather, Jay thinks about her and what her life has become since she’s left. Is she happy? Is Seoul everything she dreamed of? Was running from Jeju without saying goodbye worth it? Or is she closer than he believes, her heart’s desire turning out to be not far from the fishing town they grew up in?

His father calls for him inside, interrupting his spiraling thoughts. Probably for the better, anyway. Thinking about those chapters of his life, the book separated cleanly and harshly with a before and after, does him no good. So, like he should, he runs inside to do the next task that keeps one of the last lighthouses in Jeju working properly. Even if his heart has to be sacrificed in the process.

The subject of your next photograph takes no interest in the lens standing three feet away. Her tail wiggles rapidly as she inspects the bush in front of her with her perky, wet nose. You giggle quietly behind your camera, trying not to disturb her inspection of the roses.

Rule #1 of photography, according to your department head Sunghoon, is to make yourself nonexistent. To get the perfect shot, conceal yourself as much as possible. It’s taken many practice sessions since your first magazine catalog, the original photos coming out less than perfect. Thankfully, you’re now lead photographer thanks to Sunghoon’s tutelage and tips. After five years, you feel like you’re on stable ground.

It reminds you of Jay, the sudden memory of him being the focus of your lens many times before a punch to the gut. Your oldest friend in the world probably wonders what the reason was for your sudden departure. You couldn’t even leave him a letter to provide some semblance of an explanation, one that he definitely deserved more than anyone else.

If only you had a reason that made sense or could salvage the bond you once shared. You know now it’s been eaten away by silence, so what could be said anyhow to repair it? 

Your guilt gnaws at your empty stomach the entire way back to the headquarters of Otherworldly, the magazine you interned at and subsequently were hired to take pictures for. You greet the rest of your team when you make your way upstairs.

”Finally found some inspiration?” Sunwoo asks. Your friend tries to balance a pencil on the top of his nose.

”I’m working on it. In the meantime, I got the copies you wanted.” You give him the folder that holds your pictures for the month’s spread.

”Barely made the deadline this time, kid.” Sunghoon tuts his head at you.

“Leave her be,” Chaewon chides him, thwacking her notebook on the back of his head. It’s nice to know the writer’s room has your back when the boys decide to tease, especially in the form of Chaewon. She may be a stern leader, but she also happens to have a soft spot for you, the only female photographer.

You hear your boss, Kim Taehyung, call your name and ask you to come to his office. Your body bristles at the command, but Chaewon pats you on the shoulder. “Probably just a timesheet thing.”

Tip-toeing into Taehyung’s office, you smile at his back. Your boss is focused on a box of files on the windowsill, the outline of his button up shirt highlighted by the sun. “Please sit,” he says.

You do as he asks, putting your hands on your knees to pinch the skin, an old habit you couldn't kick. You tuck your hands under your legs to stop when Taehyung turns to you. He presses his glasses higher to the bridge of his nose, a soft smile emerging on his lips. “I wanted to say your photos from the last column were very impressive.”

”Oh!” You respond instinctively. Expecting reprimands that turned out to be compliments, you mentally take a deep breath of relief. “Thank you, sir.”

"Also," he says, "I was wondering how you’d feel being sent out on an assignment. Well, you and Sunwoo, actually. Sunghoon was discussing a location-focused piece, and he recommended you for it since you may need a change of scenery for some fresh inspiration.”

You nod your head immediately. “Of course!”

Taehyung claps his hands together, clearly pleased. “Perfect. I’ve already booked you two for the next flight to Aewol in two days. It’ll probably be easy to find a place to stay, right?”

The pit in your stomach that faded immediately widens into a chasm. The sound of your hometown’s name on Taehyung’s lips could have been a figment of your imagination. A sick joke your guilt materialized to punish you further. But as you look longer at your boss, his glee transforming into hesitant confusion, you know the reality is far worse.

”The location piece is for Jeju,” you say, the realization on your lips hitting your ears like a cannon.

”Is that an issue? I can always send Jungwon with Sunwoo instead."

”No sir! Not a problem at all.” The words tumble out before you can stop them.

Jungwon, the little prick, wouldn’t get in the way of your success if you could help it. It’s bad enough that he reminds you of your creative block whenever he gets the chance. No way would he steal a cover piece from you. Particularly the one Sunghoon recommended you for and your boss expected you to complete without problems.

Despite the implications creating intense dread in every fiber of your being.

”Perfect. Get some sleep for the flight! I’ll send the piece details in an email first thing tomorrow morning.”

You walk back to your desk in a daze, unsure what to say when Sunghoon, Sunwoo, and Chaewon ask about the meeting. All your thoughts can center on is Jay, his smiling face continuously playing in your mind’s eye.

“This town is cute! A bit barren, but cute,” Sunwoo says as he exits the car parked in front of your childhood home. Your mother’s rose bushes stand tall near the mailbox, the only color in the dry grasslands surrounding your house. Aewol pales in comparison to the colors of Seoul, the city’s vibrant hues suddenly replaced with sepia tones. The only color that seems to shine through the landscape is the sea a five-minute walk away.

”Say that again, Woo, and your face won’t look so cute.” You roll your eyes and grab your luggage from the trunk.

Two weeks, only two weeks, you can survive two weeks. Your mantra on the flight to Jeju Island has been giving you some relief at the thought of going back home in half a decade. Standing in front of the brick and mortar that encapsulates your old house, you find the words to be extremely hollow.

With her uncanny senses, your mother is already out the door and greeting you and Sunwoo with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. How she could tell the two of you were barely out of the car without spying out the window, you’re unsure.

Sunwoo melts under your mother’s attention, his gummy smile and polite aura on full display. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

”Ah, my prayers were answered. Glad to see my daughter returned with a boyfriend!”

Yours and Sunwoo’s eyes grow to saucers. Your tongues are erupting with explanations at an absurdly fast speed. “No, Mom,” you shush her as Sunwoo’s blush creeps across his neck. “Woo’s my coworker. He’s here with me on an assignment.”

”Oh! Apologies.” She laughs behind one hand and pats Sunwoo on the back with the other. “Doesn’t mean one day you can’t be more than coworkers! That’s how your father and I met, remember?”

You give her a close-lipped smile and nod, the muscles in your jaw tightening.

You hadn’t thought about your father or your parents’ relationship once since you had flown out to the mainland. Admittedly, your life was all the better for it.

Feeling the air of his presence surrounding yours again twists the veins in your neck to tense knots. The ends of your hair prickle in anticipation. You make it to the front of your doorstep, wondering where he is and why he didn’t barge outside to greet you.

Like she can read your mind, your mother says, “I forgot to call and tell you, honey. Your father had an accident at the factory a month ago.” You see a tear in the corner of her eye, but you don’t address it. “So…he’s been bedridden for the past few months now.”

Sunwoo expresses his deepest sympathies. Unbeknownst to him, they deserve to go to the next beggar before him.

Like any other child, you should worry about your father’s sudden health change with a heavy heart and a frazzled mind. You should feel guilty for being away for so long, wondering how to make up for the lost time.

But you feel nothing. Not an ounce of what you should feel.

Even when you sit by your parents’ bed, his eyes lazily gazing out the window while your mother tells him in a loving voice that you’re home, your emotions are devoid of anything negative or positive. Sunwoo smiles and greets him politely. Your father says nothing. The seizure that overtook him stole his ability to enunciate coherent words.

Some moments later, when it’s just the two of you in the room together, you itch to leave. It should be a pleasure to see him. But you’re unsure to see it any other way but objectively: he’s just a body in a bed, doing nothing every day.

You hear your mother shouting in the living room. Her voice is at an abnormally high pitch to exemplify her happiness. You forgot she could achieve such a decibel when she wanted to.

”You won’t believe who’s here, Seongie!”

Seongie.

The childhood nickname Jay was blessed with by his parents, and the name stuck like a second skin. Now, it bounces off your ears and exacerbates your already conflicting emotions. Your body goes into overdrive from the sudden overstimulation, at ease from knowing Jay is close by but petrified you're seeing him after so long.

You fix your hair and take tentative steps out of your parents' room and into the hallway, hearing your mother call your name to beckon you to welcome your old friend.

When you see him, his frame filling the doorway of your childhood house, you’re transported back in time. You see yourself and Jay on a day when he could barely stand at half the wall height. You were etching pencil markings into the doorframe, the wood concealing the handwriting perfectly when the door was fully closed. A time when there were no worries or anxieties placed on you, the two of you against the world.

Looking over his face now, you realize the years have not shown physically. He still has the same angled jaw and smooth cheeks. His bottom lip remains puffy, especially when he pouts. The only thing that has changed with time is his eyes, most likely from the image before him, one he hasn’t seen in so long.

He has every right to be confused. One second, you stopped being a staple in his life. Now, you’re back in it without a warning.

You can’t deny your heart clenching. The muscle seizes when he looks over your figure, his jaw ticking when he finally meets your eyes with his own.

”You’re back,” he says finally. His first words to you in five years hold an air of uncertainty, laced with unspoken pain. He’s unsure what to do with his body, his arms pressed to his sides and his hands stuffed tightly into his pockets.

Knowing you’re the cause of it makes you want to run to Seoul all over again with your tail between your legs, hoping you can forget the misery you’ve caused. How can one apology hold enough weight to make up for what you did to one of the only people you’ve ever loved?

Sunwoo, aware of the sudden tension flooding the room, holds out a hand to your best friend. “Hi, I’m Sunwoo.”

Jay breaks eye contact with you to take Sunwoo’s palm, shaking it with a gentle but present grip. Jay gestures to your mom when he discusses yours and Sunwoo’s job at the magazine. “She’s very proud of her daughter, you know."

”Of course!” Your mother exclaims. “‘S not everyday that your child becomes some hip photographer.”

Jay inhales a heavy breath and looks down at his watch. “I have to go back to the lighthouse, but—“

”I thought your dad still ran that thing,” you cut Jay off. Aewol’s lighthouse was one of the last on the island, and the last love Jay’s father had left after his wife passed away twelve years ago. You expected it to stay in the family, but not in this way. Not when Jay has so many dreams to fulfill. Or, at least, you hope so.

Jay releases a humorless laugh, eyes falling at the corners. “Pop’s getting old. Can’t do it forever.”

He hugs your mother and gives a soft wave to Sunwoo. You feel the pit in your chest from a few days ago re-erupt when Jay looks in your direction before he departs. All you’re left with is the grim line of his mouth to haunt you for the rest of your afternoon.

The shutter of your camera makes Jay turn his head to you with a shy grin, his hair blowing in all directions from the wind. Your spot on the cliffside overlooking the sea is close enough to the lighthouse for you to see Jay’s father going in and out of the structure with supplies shipped from the mainland. Jay only runs over when his father calls for him to help, but his father hasn’t bothered to in the last hour or so.

In the downtime, the two of you have been alternating between science homework and enjoying the cool, cloudy weather. You’ve taken a number of shots of the water’s current and weeds surrounding your picnic blanket, but the majority of them were of your best friend. He pretends he’s going to smack your lens away, but he never does.

“Are you done taking candid shots of me?” Jay asks, his pencil scratching against his notebook.

“Depends. Maybe once you tell me what you’re writing,” you tease. “Because it’s definitely not a chemical equation.”

Jay chuckles and puts his notebook between the two of you. The words are jumbled in front of you until you recognize them as a recipe. “I was testing out this version of hoedeopbap last night, but I used white fish instead of salmon. It turned out really good, even Jaeyun liked it.”

You rest your head on your hand, sprawling out on the blanket to look at Jay. He always appears so animated when discussing food. You wonder when he’ll take the initiative and do something with his passion.

“What?” He asks when he catches you staring.

You grin and turn your eyes away. “You’re just a dork for food, is all.”

“Says the nerd with her camera always around her neck.”

You click your tongue at him. “I consider myself an opportunist. How else will I get good shots if I don’t have my baby with me?” You rub your camera’s body lovingly, and Jay releases a hearty laugh.

The booming sound of your father’s voice calling your name makes your entire body flinch. You swear his figure is as tall as the lighthouse as he comes towards your picnic blanket, stopping short when he sees Jay next to you.

“It’s almost dinner time. Let’s go home.” Your father says the words with a false ease; they hide his warning to follow him back to your house. Your anxiety rumbles low in your stomach, but you play it off like it’s nothing as you pack up your stuff.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jay says, his eyes hopeful for the next morning. As it is your routine for him to bike with you to school, you’re also counting the minutes until you see him again.

“See you tomorrow,” you say, your eyes soft but your stomach wrapped in knots. When you’re out of sight, and your father wraps his hand around your upper arm on your way to the car, you calculate the next seconds until you’re away from him and back in the safety of your best friend’s presence.

You and Sunwoo have been around the town square of Aewol all morning and afternoon. The crisp hour of 4 PM hits you sharply with the sound of cows and other livestock sounding off somewhere nearby. The pictures you’ve both taken of the local townspeople, random animals passing through the pale greenery, and subtle landscape have been average at best. They don’t hit you with awe or fuel any further inspiration. It’s the same cycle you’ve repeated for the past three months, trying to strike some sort of match of creativity only to come up empty.

“Let’s be honest,” Sunwoo says, looking over his own camera’s reel. “These kinda blow.”

“You don’t say?” You kick a free cobblestone off the road in front of you, lips downturned.

“The assignment is ‘Hidden Treasures’ right? Maybe we’re just looking in the wrong place.”

“Where do you think we’ll find something like that here?”

“You’re a local,” Sunwoo says in his defense. “Where did you go all the time in this backwater town?”

The beginning of your sarcastic remark dies on your lips the second you see Jay walking out of the laundromat with Heeseung, one of your old high school friends. He looks the same as Jay, still youthful but showing maturity around the edges.

Jay catches your eyes as they continue walking, his face contorting in surprise but unsure how to address it. Heeseung is the one to run towards you and pick you up in a tight hug, practically squeezing the remaining energy out of you.

“Holy shit, Jong wasn’t lying! You’re really back!” Heeseung laughs, his eyes becoming crescent moons from his happiness. You match his reaction, genuinely glad to see another familiar face.

You introduce Sunwoo to Heeseung, and Sunwoo exchanges pleasantries with Jay. Jay remains tense, the two of you conflicted about how to bridge the awkwardness that lingers.

Heeseung, like Sunwoo, is a great detective, sniffing out tension and immediately directing the conversation to your cameras. “So, Jong was saying you’re here for an assignment?”

“Yes!” Sunwoo says before you can. “We’re trying to find hidden treasures, actually. Our boss’s words, not mine.” Heeseung laughs at Sunwoo and then flicks his fingers.

“Jong could show you guys the inside of the lighthouse! Or even the view from that damn balcony would be a treasure in its own right. You can practically see the whole town from up there. Right, Jong?”

Jay rolls his eyes and rolls the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows. “Yeah, that would be fine.”

“Perfect! We were dying here without any good material. No offense to you small town folk,” Sunwoo apologizes, but neither of your old friends mind. They welcome Sunwoo’s city perspective with laughter and an open hand, just like they always have with newcomers.

On your walk to the lighthouse, Heeseung and Sunwoo taking the lead, you’re left to walk alongside Jay. The tension is a tad looser than it was before, but it still pervades the space between you both.

Finally, Jay says, “I can’t believe you’re actually home, y’know.” He says the sentence more like a question, his voice unable to mask the traces of hurt that linger.

It makes your heart rip, but you avoid the workings inside your chest to keep the conversation light. "It took a long time, didn't it?”

”Yeah. It’s like you dropped off the planet.” Jay’s voice turns a degree lighter. He smiles, the crack in his solid facade giving you a way back in.

“I basically did. All I had was my camera and some clothes in my bag.”

Jay's eyes widen, startled by the thought. “You’ve never traveled light once in your entire life.”

”I know! I barely had time to grab the necessities.”

His eyes are filled with humor. “And by that, you mean…”

“Obviously my Pokémon collection, for starters. I had to start from scratch,” you joke. “Good thing I saved all of the old cards under my bed.”

”Even the one of Charmander that I dropped in Jaeyun’s homemade soju?”

You nod, laughing. “It still smells like watermelon.”

”Bullshit!”

You both fall into an easy rhythm of witty banter and taunting, recalling old memories and brushing shoulders in a mocking fashion.

By the time you’re taking photographs on the highest floor of the lighthouse, the tension has dissipated by a large portion. Your relationship with Jay may not be completely back to where it was before, but the first lighthearted smile he throws in your direction proves it’s a start.

And a start is just enough to make your heart feel a million pounds lighter.

“So Jongseong is flailing this card around, not realizing that the bowl of my signature soju punch is right there behind him…” Jake tells the story of the Charmander card with animated expressions. Heeseung and Jay roll their eyes, but Sunwoo laughs the entire time, his buzz bumping his energy to a level you had never seen before.

The bonfire Jake and Heeseung set up a walk away from the lighthouse is big enough for all five of you to sit comfortably around it. It seemed to be the only way your old friends could hang out together at this point in their adult lives. The bar that still stood in town filled with too many old people to feel like an acceptable hangout location.

“And he completely dropped not only her precious Pokémon card, but his whole fist into the punch bowl! I had to make a whole new batch without my parents knowing about it!” Jake laughs incredulously.

The memory still holds a level of insanity for him, clearly—not just at the situation but the level of teasing that you and Jay would devolve to when you were in your own little world together. You couldn’t help that you wanted to take your card from Jay’s hands, even if that meant soaking him in alcohol to get him to give it up.

You lift your beer to your lips, blushing. Jay sits beside you and notices the humor in your expression, smiling to himself too. You didn’t expect to reach this level of closeness again so soon. Who knew it would take a work project to find your way back to each other? With the week coming to a close and a good catalog of photos under your belt thanks to him, you could say the glass was looking half full.

“You guys got any more stories? This shit’s hilarious!” Sunwoo says, still laughing.

“Loads, man,” Jake responds.

“He’s got the best memory of all of us. Probably remembers all of our first naps in elementary,” Heeseung adds.

“How about we focus on the present, please? Otherwise we’ll be here until the sun comes up, Dee and Dum,” Jay says, pointing to the prime suspects with their all-knowing smirks.

“What else is there to say, Jay? Jake and I have been toiling on the dredging boats. You keep guarding that white tower and saying no to your uncle every time he asks you to work at his restaurant. Same old, same old.”

You turn your head to stare at Jay, perplexed. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

It’s always been Jay’s dream to make something of himself with his recipes. Bookmarks, sticky notes, anything with free space held an ingredient here or a step for a recipe there. It was like it was second nature, as were photographs for you.

How could he deny himself from what he wanted?

“I already have responsibilities here. I can’t drive up and down the highway to Park & Co. every day.”

“Start small, idiot.” You chide him, half-serious in your pestering. “Who said you couldn't do both? You can be a good son and still have your own dream.”

“Careful,” Jake says to you. “He might listen to you.”

“You’re the only one who gets through that cold heart of his,” Heeseung teases.

Jay gives the older boys a stern look, and they back off immediately.

On the walk back to your house, Jay’s jacket nestled around your shoulders, you grill him further on the prospect of him cooking seriously. “You should do it.”

Jay shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “And what’ll happen to the lighthouse? My dad will go back every morning on his cane and keep it working himself? No way.”

“Come on, who says you can’t do both?” You flaunt your arms in the air, emphasizing your point. “It’s not like it rains every day here.”

He looks at you with humored eyes, their shape becoming extremely thin when he smiles. “You’re even more stubborn as an adult, you know?

You poke your tongue out at him. “I could say the same about you, Seongie.”

The rain soaks your clothes when you run through Jay’s door. You shake off the droplets in your hair, most of the strands needing to be wrung out in your fist. Jay gets you a towel to dry off with, laughing at your current state of affairs.

”Don’t make fun of me. Be glad I still came, asshole,” you warn, warming yourself with the dryness of the cotton towel.

Jay raises his hands in mercy. “I told you to come earlier! Forecasts are no joke.”

”Sometimes they’re wrong,” you say. 

”Ninety-five percent of the time, they’re not. Trust the lighthouse keeper next time, maybe? I’ve been watching those skies for three years. I know if and when the weathermen are full of shit.”

You roll your eyes and shuck your shoes off, “Whatever. Any chance you have a spare pair of warm socks for me? I may get frostbite.”

”One, that involves snow,” Jay says as he walks into his small bedroom, leaving you alone for a second before coming out with what you requested. “And two, promise to bring them back. I only have so many pairs before I have to go to the city for more.”

”Scout’s honor,” you promise. You switch out your soaked socks for Jay’s, the feeling of the fabric making you immediately warmer. It could also be the fireplace that Jay put kindling in before you got there, but it’s mostly the socks. “Thank you. I feel better already.”

“I’d offer you a set of clothes too, but I’m moving a lot of my stuff from my dad’s.”

“It’s not that far away, though. You really want to live in this tiny shack?”

Jay laughs and returns to his food on the stove. “Do you think I could bring a girl home living with him? I love him, but I’m getting too old to be his roommate.”

You smile and press your arms into the kitchen counter, but you know it’s false. The thought of Jay being with someone else sprouts a gargantuan knot of jealousy in your stomach. He’s never belonged to you, not by any means. Not only that, but your illogical departure gives you no right to claim him now. And yet…

“Hey, where’d you go?” He waves a dish towel in front of your face, a smile on his lips.

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you play off your prying thoughts.

“Obviously.” He sticks his tongue out at you and continues to stir the concoction on the stove.

“What are you making anyway?”

“Seaweed soup. I haven’t been able to make you any since…the last birthday we spent together.”

Your body warms deep down to the soles of your feet at this surprise. “My birthday was three months ago.”

He chuckles and turns his head to you, smirking. “Consider it a belated birthday gift then.” He carries on stirring, but continues talking. “Besides, you always liked my soup compared to your mom’s. Too watery, if I remember right.”

You blush and step away from the counter. “Let’s not talk about her or her food.”

Jay’s face turns puzzled. “You’ve always been so bristly when we talk about your family. Your mom is one of the sweetest ladies in town." 

“You don’t get it. You didn’t grow up with her.”

“Hey, at least you have both parents around.”

You slam your hand down on another laminate countertop, growing more frustrated the longer the topic is broached. “Jongseong, please drop it.”

“Why are you getting so upset?” He asks, puzzled and growing alarmingly quiet at your outburst.

“Because you don’t get it! And you never will, okay? So let it go!”

The kitchen suddenly feels too suffocating, the memories of the past and your argument melding together in a way that makes any hunger that you had become a full stomach stuffed with nothing but anger and fear. You run out of the house and back into the rain, knowing if you say anything more, your secrets will fall around you like pellets soaking your skin.

The lanterns fill the sky like a thousand stars, close enough for you to touch before they’re whisked away into the dark clouds above you. Even for your small town, every adult and child knows the end of summer festival is a time to make the last set of wishes and affirmations before autumn comes. If Jay’s father yearned for an easy season, he would buy a lantern to release on a night light tonight, as would your friends’ families who hoped for good health and fortune.

You smile when you manage to catch one, holding on tight despite knowing it’s against tradition. Once one is meant to float away, it was considered rude to stop it from continuing on its path upward.

Jay chuckles and grabs it from you, matching your pout in jest. “Next year, I’ll buy you your own, alright? Don’t be greedy!”

You roll your eyes and watch the lantern rise up and away from your spot on the beach. It shimmers in an amber glow until it slips away into the black sky overhead.

You turn to him, eyes lit up not just from the lantern flames. “Did you wish for anything this year?”

Jay shrugs. “I can’t really wish for anything ‘cause I didn’t get—“

“Don’t give me that! It’s symbolic, anyway. Just tell me,” you whine.

Jay only side-eyes you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You attempt to throw a bundle of sand in his direction, but he sees your upcoming attack the second you raise your arm. He takes your wrist in his hand, the clump disintegrating between your fingers. The two of you laugh as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.

You’re both a tangle of limbs until he finally pins you down on the ground. He hovers above you, panting hard. “I win,” Jay replies, his breathing ragged but eyes still sparkling from a successful takedown.

“You wish.”

In the flicker of lantern lights and midnight stars overhead, Jay can’t help himself from leaning down closer until there’s barely a breath between your lips. He lets every doubt that has lingered over the past fourteen years dissipate and surrenders to the moment, feeling the softness of your mouth as he kisses you.

You could be glowing as bright as the lights still being sent off into the sky. You feel like you are, anyway.

He doesn’t go faster or push you further, the simplicity of the act making you sparkle from within with every ebb and flow of your conjoined lips. The crackle of a firework is what makes the two of you come up for air, unaware of how much time has passed.

 You let the moment hang between you the entire walk home. He holds your hand, squeezing it every now and then, the action more valuable than any words he could say right now. He holds himself back from giving you another kiss to say goodnight, knowing there’s always tomorrow.

Minutes after you make it inside, the scene in front of you turns whatever joy was left from Jay’s presence into acid.

“Can you not do anything right around here? I ask for the simplest things and even that’s too much.” Your father points to the food in his hands with an air of disgust directed at your mother.

He spits his vitriol in her face, the pattern commonplace. The behavior is nothing new, but his eyes show something worse than normal brewing beneath the surface.

“I can fix it,” your mother assures him, trying to take the bowl from him. “I’ll throw out the old batch and—“

“So now you think wasting food is the better choice? Are you stupid?”

The two of them are unaware of your presence, but even if they were, you doubt that would change the downward spiral they were heading towards.

She tries to walk away from him like she always has, diffusing the situation in the only way she knows how, but he drops the bowl on the counter and takes her by the arm.

“You’re not leaving,” he warns. The next moments pass in a blur, each one that plays out making you hover outside of your body, looking down in disbelief. Your mother’s temple hits the wood with a terrible thud. The next second, your body is pressed against your father’s to pull him away, begging, “Daddy, please stop!” 

His upper arm has enough force to jam into your chest and knock you onto the kitchen tile below. Pain reverberates up your tailbone from hitting the floor in a violent bang.

Your mother comes from the daze of her assault to cover your body with her own. It’s a pointless defense, your father’s feet slamming hard on the floor as he walks away and into the bedroom without looking back once.

She apologizes profusely, holding your head in her hands as tears stream down her face without an endpoint. You can barely form a tear yourself, still unsure the past ten minutes happened at all. An hour ago, you had your first kiss, and now…

“Your aunt lives on a coast off the mainland. I can’t let you stay here anymore, my love.”

That moment is when you feel the water form in your eyes. You couldn’t leave now, not with so much left uncertain.

“Promise me you’ll leave this place. Don’t think about this night again and find something better, please.”

That entire night, the waves knocking into each other with the same force as you had encountered hours ago, you feel your heart shatter into a multitude of pieces, each fragment tinier and more painful than the last. The thought of Jay waking up to see you in the morning only to find you erased from his life, robs any chance of you sleeping on the boat ride to Wando.

He’ll try to call and text, for sure. But what could be said that would explain the last twenty four hours without breaking your promise to your mother? How could you live with sharing such intimate details of your household, even with someone as sacred to you as Jay is?

How could you make him believe it wasn’t his fault that you fled without revealing your most vulnerable and harsh reality? After coming so close to the future you always dreamed of with him, what would he think? What would he do?

So, like any coward does, you let the phone ring until your battery dies, not bothering to charge it again until you make it to your aunt’s. You tell yourself he’ll move on and life will be better with you safe and out of the picture. Every beat of your breaking heart may call you a liar, but you’ll learn to twist it into the truth one day.

The next afternoon, sun slowly setting to meet the waves below, you walk towards the lighthouse with the courage your younger self didn’t have the night you ran away. Your heart tosses around in your mouth when you take the first step through the threshold, but now is the last time you fear the truth. If you couldn’t explain the circumstances back then, the least you could do was explain them now.

You take the trek up the steps to the top floor of the lighthouse, every step heavier than the last. Jay stands inside the lantern room cleaning the large bulb at the center of the space. He immediately tenses when you walk through the open door, but he says nothing. He only holds the same somber expression he had the first day you arrived back in Aewol. Only now, so much more rests behind his face that you cannot decipher.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. The words release something you believed couldn’t be separated from your being. Your guilt remains present, but the apology provides a long-held breath of fresh air.

He looks up to meet your gaze, eyebrows furrowing just a touch. The setting sun casts amber shadows across his face, making his confusion breathtaking. Clearly, he’s unsure what exactly you’re apologizing for.

The next words already taste like lead in your mouth, but you can’t hold the weight of them for another second.

Speaking them out loud is what will set you free.

“The night I left, my dad pushed my mom into a cabinet,” you confess. The eight words you just uttered create a well of tears in your eyes, but you keep your voice level and solid. “He had always been…harsh before, not just with her, but that was the first night I ever saw him hurt her with his hands instead of his words.

“I tried to stop it from getting worse, and I fell down—no,” you take a breath, “h-he threw—he threw me down on the floor.” You feel foolish for trying to minimize his actions, knowing there’s no reason to protect him anymore. You lower your head, ashamed. “That was when my mom called my aunt in Wando. She begged me not to say anything, so I kept it a secret. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about it… and about how much of an asshole my father really is.”

You can’t help the way your words crumble on your tongue or the low whimper that erupts from your lips. You had accepted in silence the harsh reality of your father being a violent and cruel human being, but speaking the words aloud is another beast entirely.

You go cold, your figure limp until you feel Jay’s gentle fingers under your chin. They pull your face up to meet his, catching his glassy and red eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

You sniffle. “What would you have done? We were seventeen—“

“Fuck that,” Jay seethes, his face a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I would’ve killed him then, just like I want to right now.”

You laugh and take his fingers in yours. “I made a promise.” You lock onto his gaze harder, trying to convey every ounce of regret you still feel. “I thought about calling you every day. I’d pick up the phone and didn’t know how to come up with the right words, especially after…”

Jay laughs, passing over the curve of your cheek with his thumb. It’s the rhythmic pattern of his touch that makes you come down from such heightened emotions. It’s always been his superpower, grounding you like this. “If I had known I wouldn’t see you again, I would’ve kissed you until the sun came up.”

You blush, your body flushing with heat. “Nothing’s stopping you now, Jongseong. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He steps forward, the shy boy you grew to love appearing in front of you. The last time you were this close, you both were unsure about most things in life, but not about how much you meant to him, and vice versa.

Now, the feelings he had put on hold for so long take hold of him, his heart a kaleidoscope of pent-up sensations when he finally presses his lips to yours. His mouth is ravenous, his tongue finding yours as his arms clutches onto your body with fervor.

You’re encased in him, all the lost time suddenly found in the spaces of his mouth on yours, your hands on his body, and the moans that leave your mouth. He undoes the buttons of your cardigan with quick ease, taking it off of your shoulders and somewhere in the room you don’t care to remember. You help him pull the sweater over his head to kiss the column of his throat and top of his chest, making him shudder.

You both pause to hurry down to the drawing room below, not wanting to continue on the iron floor next to the bright bulb of the lighthouse. Yes, the cot off to the side of the room is not incredibly comfortable, but you care little about its lack of comfort when Jay lays you down on your back and smothers your body in kisses. He makes a map of your skin until he meets the apex of your thighs, your body highly strung by the time he kisses the center of your legs.

You clutch his hair with both hands and hold tight in the midst of his ministrations, his whispered words of affirmation and the figure-eight patterns of his tongue saying just enough to push you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

He lifts his head from your body to crawl over you, his heart in his mouth as he says the words that have always been in his mind and heart from the second he saw you. “I love you.”

You’re unsure if it’s normal to cry at such a confession or in the midst of your current situation, but regardless, there are no tears of fear or pain. They’re ones that fill the silence between you with what he already knows to be true. But you say the words he needs to hear anyway. “I love you, too, Seongie.”

This is what it feels like to be at home. His body against yours, him sliding so easily inside of you without a word needed for the immense amounts of pleasure that already exists. It could be a handful of minutes or a span of time that carries over into the next morning. All that matters is his lips on your own and his hips meeting yours with every thrust.

And in between every movement, he has to remind you how much he loves you. His words and feelings are already embossed into your heart, but it’s nice to hear the breathless cadence of his voice. “I love you so much,” he groans, his end close with the sudden stutters of his body.

You fall off the cliffside together, your bodies in sync in the best possible way as your eyes see the stars from the very first night you kissed in the back of your eyelids. And when he has his hands in your hair, his touch lulling you to sleep, you wonder why it took you this long to come back to the one person who has always been the safest space in your world.

The two of you stay nestled in the thin blanket, Jay’s body your source of warmth in the small drawing room of the lighthouse. The cot barely holds your bodies, but with you both squeezing together and not wanting to let go, you make it work.

Jay takes stray hairs from your face to tuck behind your ears. “I can’t believe you didn’t know how bad my crush was until the festival.”

You giggle into his chest. “I wasn’t paying attention to boys back then! How would I have known?” You hold his gaze, suddenly vulnerable.

He chuckles. “I think I was pretty obvious.”

“To everyone but me, I guess,” you joke. “Besides, I think I always knew I’d end up with you, strangely.”

“That’s not strange, not at all.” He kisses you tenderly, nipping your lips until you laugh into his mouth. “Perfect. At least to me.”

“Same,” you agree. “I’ve never felt more at home than when I’m with you.”

Jay responds by holding you tighter between his arms. He kisses the top of your head before whispering, “So where do we go from here?”

The answer is simple, but that doesn’t make it any easier to face.

Jay looks deeply into your eyes and senses the words you cannot say, and the strength of his stare and his arms as your protective walls from all the harm that still exists in this world gives you the power to confront what you need to.

That afternoon, leaving Jay in the lighthouse with your heart fully in his possession, you know you have to face the demons that wait for you in your childhood home. If you are to have a future together, the first thing you have to do is make peace with the past.

A handwritten note on the fridge tells you your mother went out for groceries, giving you the perfect excuse to release the words that would end your terror once and for all.

You enter your parents’ room to see your father, unmoved from the spot you saw him in on the first day you were back home. Your mother pleaded for you to check in every now and then now that you were back, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Not until now.

You move the chair by his bedside out to sit down. When you finally face him again, you take note of the details you were too blinded by indifference to notice before. You observe the wrinkles on his forehead, the sunken divots under his eyes, the age lines surrounding his mouth, the frailness of his body.

The weight he’s lost since his accident makes all his features stand out more. All that he’s lost, but has also always been, is on full display now: this husk of a man without the venomous words and bravado to hide behind is truly nothing to be scared of anymore.

 “You’re so much smaller than I realized.” You say it with a breath of relief, any fear or anger that was left behind for him in your soul replaced with pity. You can walk away without regrets or words you wish you could’ve said, because you know now it’s a waste of your peace. Maybe one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive, even. Not today, but someday.

You walk away with no grievances left, back in the direction of the lighthouse with a new purpose and ready to take the path you were always meant to. Back to the home you’ve always had resting inside of the one you love.

Jay stands with his back facing you, staring off into the expanse of sea in front of him. His shoulders ease as you step closer.

“You’re back,” he says with saccharine happiness. He takes your hand in his and presses your fingers to his lips.

“I am,” you respond. You kiss him with your whole soul, incredibly in love and unafraid of what will come next.

“Babe! The new issue is here!”

You open your eyes to the sound of Jay’s words. You could barely doze off when he was so excited to grab the mail this morning. It was only delivered a few minutes ago, but of course he has to check for the newest spread of Otherworldly in your mailbox. To his happiness and your shy pride, your name’s plastered in almost every section of the photography credits.

Convincing your boss to let you work for the magazine from your hometown turned out to be easier than expected. With his happiness from your newfound inspiration, it seemed like you could take pictures of algae for all he cared and it would be a hit in the magazine’s eyes.

You weren’t the only one who could take credit, though. Jay’s name was also included in some of the photos, his insight into Aewol’s cuisine and new sous chef position at Park & Co providing more than enough influence for your photography. The lighthouse would always be his priority (aside from you), but his second love of food could not be kept at bay any longer.

He opens the magazine to the first page that features your photos, the centerfold being of Jay’s original recipe for hoedeopbap. “It looks even better in print,” Jay says, his face three shades brighter staring at the meal.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his middle, peeking your head out from the side of his shoulder to look at the pages. “It’s really good, isn’t it?”

“Some of the best you’ve ever done.” He turns in your hold to press your chest to his, kissing your forehead in the process. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“Actually, getting lucky is how we got this.” You take his hand and rest it on the curve of your stomach, fifteen weeks peaking out from under the midriff of your tank top.

He laughs and presses his lips to your cheek. “I love you.”

To your surprise, peace was easier to find than you had expected. Confronting what you ran away from all those years ago feels like a distant memory, the pain of the past a part of another reality. There are no monsters that creep in the shadows or secrets to keep locked behind closed doors.

All that remains is the ease that comes from a life filled with nothing but love and happiness, as weightless and freeing as a lantern floating through the sky.

“I love you too, Park Jongseong.”

@junekissed (thank for beta-ing also june!! ilysm) @yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[yoursjaeyun]

666 ― S.JY

When does an interest in the supernatural become unnatural? You’d say right around the time a spirit told you to write his name with your own….body fluids

minors dni! | reblog to summon a hot demon

WORDCOUNT― 4.8k

PAIRING― demon!Jake x reader (ft. boyfriend Sunghoon)

CONTENT― Jake the jealous demon and is also a massive cocky asshole, reader the instigator. made up sex magic, Jake is A VERY horny demon. sunghoon also wants demon jake. peep the smut tags lol

WARNINGS ― infidelity but like ur cheating with a sex demon so, some instances could be mistaken for manipulation

NOTE― this is a halloween fic that i forgot about that i wrote for haechan on my other blog ncteez. if you’re one of the few who actually read this before, just know that I am the same person!!!!!!!!!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― cock mimicking (demon fucks you with your boyfriend’s cock), forked tongue play, finger fucking, ghostly foreplay, HUGE MASSIVE COCK PENETRATION, mind reading, horns react to touch the same way a cock does ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You've always been into halloween, Sunghoon just thought it was a cute little quirk of yours. Until he started dating you and realized that...it's not just halloween that you're into. It's just a general list of things that would be considered disturbing on any other month that isn't october.

Deities, spirits, ghouls, demons, bones, death, blood.

He's supportive, of course. October is one of the months you're allowed to openly enjoy these things, because everyone pretends to like them too at this time of year. Temporary stores open up to sell the congealed fake blood, ouija boards are moved to the outside aisles of retail stores, and of course, everything is on sale.

This is great for Sunghoon because, as your boyfriend, he knows you celebrate the month of halloween more than you celebrate your own birthday, and the gifts can be plentiful.

Lately, you've been more interested in spirit work too, so when he's on his way home from work to see you, stopping by one of those chaotic halloween stores to grab a fancy, way too expensive if not on sale ouija board? It was a given.

Anything to see that cute smile on your face.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well. The ouija board miiiiiight have been a mistake on his part.

Knowing next to nothing on spirit work, he wasn't expecting a board game sold in children's stores to actually pick anything up for you. Yet, night after night when he comes home, you approach him with a tight hug, an excited smile, and stories of which spirit gave you their name this time.

You, on the other hand, claim to know more about spirit work than you actually do. You did not expect to get any type of response either, especially in this pristine apartment that you assume no one has died in yet.

You learned fast though. Research, research, research.

"Today I learned that spirits aren't actually trapped in one space like all the ghost movies try to say. They might be connected but they can freely come and go." You smile against Sunghoon as he settles himself on the couch, freshly showered after work.

"You really like playing with that thing, huh?" He smiles back, still believing in the shallowness of it all, when it comes to corporate companies selling boards for people to "connect with loved ones".

Nodding to him, you stand up and look at him expectantly.

"Do you wanna try?"

He's reluctant at first. As much as he supports you and your interests, they aren't his.

He's great at humoring you though. Amazing, even.

"Yeah, why not?" He smiles, standing to his tired feet and following you into the bedroom.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Two fingers on both hands," You quietly guide him on how to use it. "If you're not comfortable asking questions, I can do it."

Sunghoon nods casually, still not quite believing in the gimmick but loving the way you're so passionate.

"I don't mind asking, can I try?"

You frown, knowing exactly what will happen when he does.

"Yeah, of course!" You turn your frown into something unreadable, hoping that the same spirit you've been talking to is off at some middle school party switching the lights to get a kick out of it.

Then, there's silence. The candle's flame that you had previously lit bounces in the still air, indicating that tonight is already primed for the various spirits you've willingly accepted into your space.

"Uh," Sunghoon suddenly feels awkward, speaking out to nothing in the room when you're right in front of him, watching him. "Hello?"

You snicker at his awkwardness, knowing that you felt it too.

"Is there anything–anyone– here tonight? We'd like to talk."

Here's the thing. From the moment you started fucking with this oujia board, you never watched your words. You assumed that using proper grammar when speaking wouldn't matter much, considering they're dead and all. You keep it respectful, of course, but...

Anything being in your apartment is a huge difference compared to anyone.

The anythings tend to make a run for it, and the anyones are forced to stay away from the dangerous energy you're unintentionally inviting.

Speaking of the anythings, there's a regular. If your frown from moments ago is anything to go by. A vulgar spirit which you know as nothing more than "Jae".

Jae, the spirit, claims to be in his twenties, slides the planchette with just your fingers on it to numbers and letters with ease, and also is very fond of sarcasm, apparently.

The last time you spoke with this specific spirit, it ended it you asking him if he left any loved ones behind when he died. The board said yes, Jae said yes.

He claimed to be male, he claimed to have died ten years ago, and claims to have been in love.

And when you tried to relate, speaking of your boyfriend, saying your boyfriend's name, the spirit stopped responding. In fact, the board flew straight across your room as you spoke of Sunghoon.

Arguably, you were thrown off and only a little bit afraid. You definitely weren't the one who swiped the board off your bed, letting it hit your wall.

Which is why, while inviting Sunghoon to try the board, you hope that said spirit is off doing other things.

Which he's not.

Sunghoon's eyes nearly roll when he feels the planchette pull, dragging to the word of "yes" after you spoke out after his awkward greeting.

"You're pulling it, right?"

You ignore him, already locked in and staring at the board.

"Can you give me your name?" You whisper, now glancing up to Sunghoon and waiting for the planchette to move again.

It does, straight to the "J", and as it continues, you lift your hands out of discomfort, unintentionally proving to your boyfriend that you're not moving it.

"A" Sunghoon whispers as he stares in disbelief, feeling his hands move against the ghostly board. "E."

And when the planchette stops, he looks at you.

"Why'd you let go?" He says, glancing between both you and the board. "This is insane!" A smile.

You can see the same excitement you had the first time it moved for you, but the fact that the same spirit is back, after rudely throwing your board across the room at the mere mention of Sunghoon is a bit worrisome.

"Jae?" Sunghoon calls out, now feeling the adrenaline in his blood push past the anxiety of talking to nothing. "How did you die?"

"Sunghoon! You can't just ask him that!"

"Him?" Sunghoon side eyes you. "What makes you think it's a guy?"

You avoid eye contact.

"Well," You tick your tongue. "He's kind of told me like, two weeks ago. Plus, that’s a dude’s name."

Sunghoon laughs, making jokes. This is harmless. This is fun.

"Oh?" Sunghoon tilts his head, lifting his fingers to encourage you to place yours back against the planchette too. "Jae, have you been flirting with my girlfriend?"

It was a joke of a question, and quite disrespectful in your mind for him to ask such a thing, but the way the planchette moves to "yes" has you sweating, and kind of, smiling.

A spirit, jealous of Sunghoon? Not something you had on your bingo card for the year.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You smile, avoiding your boyfriend's eye and watching the planchette move over to "no".

Your smile falls, and the planchette moves again.

"H."

"O."

"T."

You actually cannot explain the warmth inside of you. Flirting with a ghost, while your boyfriend participates? Hilarious scenario, surely Sunghoon isn't taking this seriously.

"You're moving it now, there's no way some dead guy is coming after my girl." Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head.

The planchette responds, moving to "no."

"Alright, stop fucking around." Sunghoon narrows his eyes at you. "A spirit wouldn't take the energy to contact us just to call you hot."

The planchette responds again, moving to the letter "B."

"Take your hands off again, there's no way." He seems more concerned this time.

"I."

"T."

"C."

"H."

Sunghoon's mouth falls open.

"Who are you calling a bitch? Me, or my very hot girlfriend that you can't have?"

"Y."

"O."

And as the planchette makes it way over to the "u" Sunghoon lifts his hands and glares at every empty space around the room.

"He just called me a bitch." Sunghoon rolls his eyes. "There is a spirit in this room, who thinks i'm a bitch."

You laugh uncomfortably, and he laughs more casually.

"Well, that was fun, I guess." Sunghoon continues, standing to his feet as you cross your fingers that the board wont go flying into his head. "I'm gonna go take a shower then."

He kisses you gently on the forehead and leaves you alone in the room where, obviously, you're still not alone.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days pass and Halloween draws closer as you are both drawn to and forcing yourself away from the ouija board.

Something calls you to it. Whispers of your name when Sunghoon isn't home, feather light touches that raise your skin, nightmares, but your gut tells you to stay away.

Can you though? Can you really resist such a strange happening?

Of course not.

Spirit work is fun, but you can't help but wonder if this entity is a spirit at all. Out of all the research, people rarely get more than one to two answers during a session of Ouija. This Jae thing seems to hold a lot of energy, an entire personality, and the ability to haunt you in a way that makes you feel weirdly.......safe?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Jae, are you here?" You call out in the early morning, the oujia board tucked safely under your bed as you lay there.

Your curtains move as if the window is open.

"The dream I had last night, was that you?" You continue to speak into the void, allowing it to speak back.

Except it doesn't speak back, it touches. You feel your ankle being tugged, as you scoot down the bed.

Most people would scream. Most people would call a priest. Most people wouldn't want to be alone with it. Then again, you're not most people.

You laugh, scooting yourself back up on the bed.

"I wish I could see what you really look like. In my dreams, you're just a shadow."

Another tug, and then the oujia board goes sliding out from under your bed, indicating that he wants to communicate better with you.

You take the bait, lying the board out with your sleepy eyes and drowsily smiling at the empty space in front of you.

Before you can even place your hands on the planchette, it's moving.

"S"

"U"

"M"

"M"

"O"

"N"

You should probably be running for the hills after that, but you don't. You sit, still drowsy.

"How would I manage to do that?"

"S"

"L"

"E"

"E"

"P"

And for some reason, you do. Instantly, you go back to sleep. Despite waking up without an alarm, the drowsy feeling stayed throughout your morning conversation with the spirit in your apartment. Dozing off came easy, with the oujia board still in front of you.

And there, you dream despite knowing that the sun is hitting your face as you sleep. You can feel the warmth of it in the dream as a creature, no, a man, approaches you in an empty expanse of fog.

In your dream, you cannot speak despite trying to. No voice comes out, but the man speaks smoothly, fuzzy and distorted face slowly untwisting itself into that of an actual man.

That's him. You can feel it through your heavy sleep, your hairs raising both in the astral realm and in your waking body.

"You want to summon me?" The man asks, smiling at you in a heavenly way. "You have to say my full name."

You can't speak back, but he continues.

"You have to be alone, though others can still join if the door is open. On both ends."

You stand, listening to his echoed voice through the fog.

"If you want me in the physical form, you have to do something physical for me." He continues, stepping closer and closer until his body is nearly going through you. "Say my name each time you're pleasured, and write my name against your skin with the mess of it."

You quirk a brow, and the form in front of you smiles.

"What? You thought I'd let you summon me for anything else? I've been here for thousands of years."

You thought he died ten years ago.

"Angel pussy only gets so tight, you know."

Vulgar. Yet, your physical body is tingling. Angel pussy? Is he an angel? From a religion you don't even believe in?

He notes the confusion on your dreaming face.

"You see me now, my face, if you want to feel me too, you'll do as I say." His dreamed up voice is something you know you've never heard before. His face, someone you've never seen.

You know it's not possible to dream of a physical person you've never seen, and he's so clear to you at this moment. Practically feeling his voice blow in your face.

His hair, messy, almost wet looking. His eyes are piercing, his lips, pretty.

You nod, and he smiles.

"And don't invite your boyfriend."

Then, you snap awake. Feeling as if you've just had the wettest of dreams.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Naturally, you listened to the figure in the dream, using every pleasurable mess your body makes to write his name on your skin. A name which came to you without him stating it at all in the dream.

Days go by, his name remains on your skin.

Halloween comes and, well, so does Sim Jaeyun. 

Finally.

October 30th, 11:59am is the last moment of your life where you'll be curious. October 31st, 12:00am is the first moment of your life where a ghostly touch became a real one.

You were awake, of course you were. And alone.

Sunghoon tends to spend the 30th with you, and the 31st with his parents, helping to tend to the haunted house his family likes to throw each year.

"You're alone?" You hear, whispered against your ear as you slouch against the couch.

The echoed voice is all to familiar, sending a shock through your body in an instant and you turn, only to see nothing.

"Jae?" You question into the air, glancing around the room.

A deep chuckle is heard in your other ear, and a cold feeling is felt against your cheek.

"Entirely alone?" The voice sounds out.

"I've done what you told me to do, and I still can't see you.”

"I know." The voice sounds further away now, and you follow it all too easily.

Straight into your room, you follow the whispers. You see the board get thrown again, and you tilt your head.

"You're upset?" You question to the emptiness, and you get no response at all until you feel it.

Ice cold pressure running from your ankles to the nape of your neck. Traveling up and down your body until you can barely stand the feeling of goosebumps refusing to go down.

Thunder. Lightening, and then the sound of raining rattling against your window.

You sigh at the new feeling, your legs moving on their own to your bed as you lay against it in a feeling of cold comfort.

"One more time." You feel the whisper before you truly hear it, a weight on your bed, a weight hovering over you. "Write my name."

The ice cold feeling strikes between your legs, instantly giving you the very material to do as he says. And you do, dipping your fingers between your legs in awe at the feeling of how fast you manage to get wet over this.

And there, you feel the weight against your hand, almost as if he's writing his name himself against your thigh.

And you wait.

and wait.

and wait, until....

"Close your eyes."

You do, not daring to open them until he says. You feel that ice cold energy leave, replaced with a searing hot feeling, something that makes you sweat, something that makes you shake.

You hear shuffling, you hear your bedroom door opening and closing, you hear mumbled whispers in a different language, and then you hear his voice in real space. Bouncing off your walls rather than being implied right up against your ear.

"Open your eyes."

You open them to your empty room sitting just as you left it, the air feeling neutral, the oujia board looking much less magical as it lays on the floor. Then you hear your door open. Instantly your eyes glance to the space there.

"It's you." You whisper out, looking him up and down, feeling overwhelmed, and quite frankly, astonished.

"Of course it's me, you summoned me." The figure smiles, looking nothing more than a man despite something being...off. Which is obvious, but still stirs your stomach uncomfortably.

"You're no spirit, are you?" You blurt, unsure of how rude it may seem to him.

"Oh no, clearly not." The figure looms over, taking visible strides towards you before holding his hand out to truly feel you for the first time. "I got you good though, didn't I?"

"What are you, then?" You question, ignoring that you've been writing his name on your skin day after day with the slick your orgasms produce.

"Does it matter? I'm only here physically for the night." He glares deeply at your questions. So willing to bring him here, but so unwilling to complete the other half of the deal that he, maybe, didn't expand on in previous communications.

You stare at him, still trying to process that the so-called spirit you were so excited to speak to before, is here, now, in flesh. With a voice, and a body that doesn't entirely appear to be breathing at all. He looks so human, so, so, human, yet so....not.

He doesn't falter at your reaction much longer though. It's been hundreds of years since he's managed to get a woman to call out for him in such a vulgar way. It was funny to him, really, looming in every corner watching you do as he instructed. Reading your mind when you're intimate with Sunghoon.

"Last night– you were thinking of me instead.." Jaeyun smiles warmly, uncaring of how strongly he comes off because opinions and thoughts are something he is well versed in.

He can read everything you're thinking, and you want it. He's gentle when he moves to you, claiming his spot hovering over you, staring down at your eyes. He never knew what it was like to look at someone, to cherish and love, even. He only knows how to look into and through a person.

"I did." You admit, unable to look away from him, unable to feel fear, or pretend that you want to squirm away from his weight loosely pinning you against the bed. "Were you always here? Watching?"

He nods with a smile.

"Quite pretty when you're writing my name," He comments, leaning down to lick against your bottom lip. "If only you knew what it all meant, in the grand scheme of things."

"Hm?" You try to question, feeling like you're in a trance by the way his tongue flicks out so quickly, satiating your entire body with just that single act.

"Six times." He breathes. "You did so well."

You sigh at the feeling of nothing, as he pulls his face back from yours. There's still a ghostly pressure against all of the right places, and he's very aware of it.

"I own you." He comments with a chuckle, moving his hand down your body to feel the wet he created with no effort at all. "You'll never be rid of me."

You find....great pleasure in that. He knows you do. Even if he couldn't read every thought behind your eyes, the way your body moves toward his hand is enough to go by.

Humans, so desperate. So obsessed with praise, so...selfish. Just like him. Time and time again, he will grow bored of the sex other realms offer. It doesn't matter how many forms of fog he can get his claws on. Becoming human, being with a human, it sears hotter for him.

Makes him hotter. Makes him feel like the god who damned him.

"I'm a demon, babe." He laughs, now effectively thrusting two fingers into you and enjoying the way you seethe out at the heat he can't help but emit.

Deep down, you knew. You accepted it. You brought him here, you kept him here. You simply don't care. Otherworldly beings are meant to give curiosity. Who cares if you gave in? You didn't know where your everlasting soul would end up anyway, at least now you know that it'll end up with this....humanly thing who works his fingers like magic.

Because it is magic. Hellish magic.

"Is this what you always look like?" You ask, "Is this what you always sound like?"

The demon chuckles against your throat, fingers making little effort in the way it quite literally feels like you're already having the best sex of your human life.

"Does it matter? You gave yourself to me, I can be whatever you want me to be." He whispers out, licking against your naked skin.

That's right. Somehow, you're undressed. You felt no fabric, and you could honestly care less if he snapped them into the void.

You moan at the feeling, comprehending only slightly how his tongue went from flat and humanly to...forked. Two tips of his tongue, wrapped around your nipple, moving smoothly, wetly, hotly against you in a way that feels as blasphemous as it looks.

And when you reach up, on your very earthly instinct to grip his hair, you're met with a pair of curled horns.

You moan again, and he chuckles, knowing that this is for your pleasure, not his own quite yet.

"You can touch them." He insists, sliding his fingers out of you and writing his name again against your thigh, essentially sealing the contract you already agreed to. "You'll have no choice but to hold on to them later."

You, for some reason, take that promise as if it is seared into your fate. Forever damned to take hold of a demon's horns, forever blessed to be fucked by him.

"I like that thought," the demon chuckles with a second voice, seemingly penetrating your thoughts more than the place between your legs right now. "Blessed." He smiles, tongue long as it remains against your nipple and yet, he still is able to lift up to make eye contact with you. "Cute."

You're so entranced by the happenings in this moment, that Sunghoon seems...lesser. He feels like the past to you, as you feel and experience a hellish hand, and a hellish tongue. Soon, possibly, to experience whatever kind of cock demons have.

"Lesser? Fitting." he comments straight into your thoughts with that second voice, soothing your ambitions of being anyone other than his. "and my cock..."

You listen so intently to that second voice, your body is burning up with pleasure. The way he continues to write his name on your skin somehow feels better than when his fingers were inside of you. All of it feels better than anything you've ever felt in your life.

"It can be more, can be less, can be bigger, smaller, doubled, tripled, and even..." His secondary voice pauses with a chuckle, "if you're into experimenting, i am and will be whatever body you're interested in being fucked by."

That...seems exciting.

And it is. Trading a human life for whatever the fuck this is seems like such a great idea. Entranced or not, you still have a mind of your own and it's one that wanted this. He knows it, you know it, and no one else needs to know it.

"That's right, work your little brain." He pulls back, leaving your nipples more than swollen while he uses his real voice. Raspy, vulgar, enticing. "You made this choice." He taunts, flattening his palm against your thigh and pressing your legs open, hooking one above his other leg and instantly sliding into you.

The moment he hears your thoughts, searing in the pain you summoned upon yourself, he smiles. He coos out, pitying the way you so willingly want this deal to be real. And oh, it's so real.

That pain you're feeling with the cock he perfected just for you. He knows what you want.

"Familiar?" He smiles wickedly against your neck, darting his tongue out to lick a searing heat against you.

You can barely think through the feeling of his cock practically morphing inside of you. The pain from before, with the large hardened length turning into that of something...not only familiar but, too familiar.

He's fucking you with Sunghoon's cock, and can't help but notice how much you fight against wanting anything other than that.

"Too familiar?" He repeats your thoughts, stretching you open more than you think you ever have been, as his cock becomes thicker, heavier, hotter. "So, mine will do then?"

You try to nod, but you're a bit busy trying to comprehend the fact that a demon cock is quite literally tearing you apart right now, on Halloween fucking night. How grossly cliche.

"We like gross though, don't we?" He smiles, pulling his length out only a bit, and feeling the way your pussy grips it as if you'd find a way to threaten him for not keeping you filled to the brim. "You like feeling like you're being split in half, don't you?"

You do nod this time, arms reaching up to his horns and squeezing tightly. He grunts at it, loving the feeling of someone touching on him while lying helpless beneath him. Such willpower you have, such willpower you don't want.

He feels what you feel, that pain? You love it. The warmth in his horns? Nearly pulsing against your palms at the pleasure of this act? You love that too.

"It's like you were made for the hells, babe." He comments snidely, pulling out, then pushing into you roughly. "Made just for me." He continues, claiming you, fucking you, all while knowing that you're already his. 

All while knowing that there's another person entering this apartment, and you're too far gone to pretend that this isn't temptation. It's willingful lust, and it's a deed you signed for.

"Weren't you?" His secondary voice demands that you respond with your voice rather than your thoughts, as he continuously stimulates your entire body through his own made up form.

"Weren't you?" He echoes again, real and secondary voice now filling your senses alongside the squeezing in your gut, your g-spot stimulated by a demon cock seemingly built for doing just this. A body built for pleasure, a demon created for it.

"Weren't you?" He echoes through a seethed whisper, tongue darting out and between your lips, forcing an answer from you.

You wail out in pleasure, sheer lack of humanity showing through the sound. He loves the way you sob a "yes!" through amazement. Humans aren't meant to comprehend what he's doing to you, or what he will do to you.

Humans aren't meant to accept seeing either, yet, here comes Sunghoon. Sprinting to the room where he's just heard his beloved girlfriend scream.

Only to find you gripping onto a pair of pulsing horns. Legs spread wider for this creature than they ever were for him. A forked tongue looking as if it's sucking the life straight from your throat.

But those screams aren't from pain, Sunghoon sees it plainly.

The sound of a cock too big for you, pleasuring you. The grip you have on this creature, and the grip that creature has on you.

Sunghoon can't find it in him to even ask what the fuck is going on. He just stands there frozen, knowing you don't notice him there. Who would?!

The creature, makes eye contact.

"I tried to fuck her with your cock," It echoes out to him in a, almost apologetic voice and it sends shivers down his spine. "She needed more."

Sunghoon is still standing in the doorway of your bedroom. Frozen solid, his heart is racing as he watches that he's not only being cheated on but like, goddamn, with a fucking....thing?! Not even a person?

Your ears are ringing, sure you've orgasms a dozen times by now, both feeling all of it and not feeling any of it at all because the demon just keeps going. Listening to your every thought, cooing at each orgasm and willing more, more, more. Until he can trace his name six hundred and sixty six times into your skin. "You could be mine too, Sunghoon." The demon calls out, forcing his voice into the man's head, reading every thought, half-assed prayer, and unbelievable idea of trying to intervene. "I know you want to."

[yoursjaeyun]

So Sweet. ― P.JS

The one where Jay, in all of his cherry-flavored thoughts, makes you cherry flavored too. requested here, here, and here 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 3.8k

CONTENT―   reader is jealous over nothing, NO THIS IS NOT ANGST, mostly just smutty stuff, food play, costume party (jay is wearing cat ears hueheuehue), alcohol is involved but it’s consenting, ya’ll fuck in [redacted]’s room and leave the mess for him to clean up. 

WARNING―  idk, reader is possessive and jealous, kinda crazy. very me tbh. jay kinda just shoves it in even tho it’s painful for her……and keeps going………

NOTE ― happy almost halloween :D this is very short, written with haste, and probably not that good but…….jay, yknow? jay makes it good. 

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big fat huge cock jay, candy-play, costumes & cat ears, reader sucks his candy like it’s his cock and he nearly combusts over it,  pussy eating, cock stuffing, cream pie

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s gotta be the cat ears, you think, as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room. Everyone is a blur, but goddamn something is off tonight. Because, like, why is every fucking woman in this room staring at him like they wanna rip his clothes off?! 

Or, maybe it’s that faux-freshly-fucked blushy glow across his cheeks, or the blinking out of sync that comes paired with his drunken jokes and words. The atmosphere truly is making the usual, stoic, lame-ass Jay appear as nothing but an endearing cat-man who deserves a mouth on him. 

And you know, the fact that you came here with him, with matching ears and a fucking tail, should scare off all these little bitches, yet there they are? Suddenly just so interested in your man?! 

Jake is the first to notice the way you stare, raising a brow in confusion.

“You guys get in a fight or something?” He asks as his own animal-themed ears flop around when he turns his head to you.

“No–” You narrow your eyes at a woman who keeps glancing at your boyfriend as you say it, paying Jake little to no mind. “Just wondering why everyone has a hard-on for my boyfriend right now.”

Jake nods, pouting his lip out and raising a brow as if to silently say “Ah, makes sense.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better–” Jake starts, glancing around the room. “I literally don’t see anyone trying to get it on with him. I think you’re making problems.”

Pause.

“Please. Look at her!” You slightly raise your voice, pointing to a woman who is absolutely not trying to get on Jay’s dick, in fact, she’s literally eyeing Heeseung like she’s about to pounce. 

It’s really just the fact that she’s standing right next to Jay, and you caught her looking at him a few times, and also they had a “conversation” a few days ago. Nevermind that it was a “See ya after break!” type of conversation, or that she said it to everyone, and not specifically to Jay. It’s just that he responded alongside everyone else.

“You’re being annoying.” Jake finally starts to walk away from you, not actually annoyed but more-so amused at how jealous you’ve become solely because you’ve had a few shots. 

It’s not often you drink, after all. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Gonna go kiss on your man–” Jake laughs, now rushing his way through a crowd of drinkers and glancing at you when he whispers in your boyfriend’s ear.

You watch the way Jay falls into a face of concentration trying to hear his friend, and then see his eyes flick to you. 

Oh, well that’s just great. Surely Jake isn’t actually trying to hit on Jay, he’s probably over there snitching like a little asshole. Which sucks because this relationship with Jay is….it’s kinda new, you know? You don’t want to come across as the possessive type, or like– controlling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself panicking when Jay stumbles his way over to you, a newly unwrapped lollipop hanging half from his lips as he sips his drink around the candy, and only spilling it once solely because he keeps his eyes on you rather than his footing. Jake is left behind, now beside that girl that clearly wants Heeseung to bone her into the next dimension, looking uncomfortable and left out. 

Good. He deserves it. 

“So…” Jay says as he stands next to you, leaning back against the wall and snaking one arm behind you to grab at your waist. “Someone’s jealous?”

You fold in on yourself a little bit, feeling that grip he gives to you that forces you against his side. 

“Of course not.” You mumble, sipping from your cup and still staring out into the room of people. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Jake said so.” Jay laughs now, leaning his head over to whisper under your ear. “You saying he’s lying?”

His breath sends a shiver down your spine just as the song changes to that of muffled bass, loud enough to have you wanting to cover your ears.

“Yes–” You start. 

“Huh?” Jay pulls back to look at you. 

“Yes, he’s lying.” You try again.

“What?”

Before you try to answer again, you feel him pull you. Around a corner, up, up, and away from the booming music one floor up. He lands you in someone’s room, fuck if you know who’s.

“Hm?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him now. No one else in the room to muffle that croak in his drunken voice, those blushed cheeks, the fucking ears.

“I said, he’s lying.” You say meekly, unable to tear your eyes from the little split in his lip, reddened by the candy hanging from his mouth. 

His breath smells of cherry and tequila when he leans closer, tilting his head playfully to look into your eyes, as if to check if you’re the one lying. 

“Is that so?” He says, pulling the lollipop from his lips and sucking the taste down his throat, allowing that scent to waft through your nose yet again. “So you don’t mind knowing Jake’s ex tried to get my number?” 

Your eyes widen before they narrow. You cross your arms and look away from him.

“Of course not.” You lie. 

“And you wouldn’t care that I gave it to her?” He says now, hovering his lips near yours, eyes hooded as he plays with his words. 

That makes your blood boil though, and no longer can you sit here and pretend like you wouldn’t bring out the claws and start pulling hair if it comes to it. After all, that bitch was a homewrecker! Totally broke Jake’s heart and has the audacity to come to parties when she knows he will be here? And she asked for Jay’s number?!

And he gave it to her?! Jay chuckles when he pulls back, popping the candy back into his mouth as he studies the shift in your nonchalant vibe. He stays silent though, amused, waiting for you to argue until he notices the way your eyes fall. 

No longer annoyed, but hurt.

In all fairness, that silence he gave you after that had you thinking…he really gave her his number?

“Baby–” Jay soothes now, pushing the lollipop to his cheek with his tongue so he can speak as clearly as he can despite the slur in his speech from the drinks. “I’m joking.”

The relief washes over your drunken mind, feeling better but now back to being irritated. What’s with him right now? You don’t exactly want to be jealous, but the fact that he’s making damn sure that you were is kinda…like, is he into that? Does he want you to be possessive?

You’d be lying though, if you said he didn’t look hot as hell the other day pulling you closer to his side because a store clerk looked at you for a second too long. You might’ve even swooned a bit. 

“You’re a dick.” You finally respond, shoving him back playfully, unable to hide the relieved smile on your lips. “Looking hot-and-bothered all night, leaving me in a random room only for me to see you talking with some girl after finding you again.” 

He lends you his own laugh now, wiggling his eyebrows before popping the candy out of his mouth again. “Oh, her? The girl who Heeseung basically just finger fucked on the kitchen counter?”

You pause for a second, unsure as to why that sounds hot. Maybe just because she’s not after your man? Or maybe you like, wish you’d have seen.

“And you didn’t even take me to see?!” You go to playfully shove him again, but he stops you with his own gentle shove. Straight against the door, getting up real close to your face before whispering.

“So, you were jealous?” That slur in his speech is nowhere to be found before you taste the explosion of cherry. You’re kind of just staring at him, nodding out an admittance as his eyes fall lower, to where he’s tracing the bulbous head of that lollipop against your bottom lip. “Hot.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, you know that?” You finally say after the fourth or fifth time he’s swiped that lollipop against you, adding a translucent sheen to your already alcohol-sweet lips. 

“Mhm.” He nods triumphantly, now pushing the candy past your lips and into your mouth. “Should’ve came over and let me finger fuck you on the counter next, would that have made you feel better?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, ignoring the throb between your legs at his bold words. Jay isn’t typically this feisty, though you’d have totally let him do such a thing regardless of the eyes that could see. You just, like, didn’t really think he’d be willing to do something like that.

“I learn something new about you every day.” You chuckle out, noting the way he stares at your mouth and the way you suck on his lollipop. 

“Got loads of secrets for you, babe–” He smirks, taking initiative now and pressing his palms down on your shoulders, as if to make you lower yourself to the floor. Which, of course you do. You sink down, feeling the wooden door behind you sturdy and strong. As you do, he reaches over, locking the door.

What you think is about to be the best head of his life turns out to be him sinking down with you, slotting himself between your legs on the floor and pinning you there with his hands against the door. His head tilts cutely, the cat ears now looking more realistic than ever.

He doesn’t look like a curious little black cat anymore, he looks like he’s hunting for prey as he looks at you. 

“Look at you,” He says, more serious and without that smirk before he takes the candy back. “So, so cute.”

You’re melting against him after those words, feeling his tongue lick against your lips before you can even return to compliment. It’s sweet, red coated tongues creating a sugary mess, hums and pleasant sounds leave both of you at the flavor, only to deepen the kiss because neither of you can really get enough of it either. 

You reach up in the kiss, petting the ears on his head despite knowing he can’t feel it the way a real feline would, but he reacts all the same. Totally into it, even, nearly roleplaying as he groans. Maybe he’s just amused that you did that, or maybe he’s wondering if you’ll pull at his next or something. 

And in this kiss that seems to never end, he gets touchy. Pushing and pulling you to both give and take control, one hand moving from cupping your face, to gently holding your neck, up until it finds its way down down down, then up your scanty shirt. 

Totally lost in it, both of you are. With you skewing his ears to scratching at the nape of his neck, to him groping, and suddenly– prodding that same lollipop that you’d forgotten about between both of your lips. He’s amused when you lick it, the dulling cherry flavor coming back into the kiss with full force between you as he pulls back, red salvia stains all around his mouth before the smirk is back.

He watches as you take it back into your mouth, his own hand pushing it in and out, watching you chase it when he tries to pull it out entirely, only to shove it back in, deeper. That’s when he groans, pinching your nipple through your shirt particularly hard due to the sheer arousal that rushes to his cock. It lends him a little throb, a dribble of pre-cum messing his pants.

That about does it for him, pulling the candy out of your mouth now despite the way you chase it pitifully. He pops it into his own temporarily so he can go straight for what he not only wants, but needs right now. You watch him, a little dazed with the way his hair matches perfectly with the color of the cat ears, now a little crooked due to your meddling. 

He goes straight for it too, reaching under your skirt and practically tearing your panties off of you before he’s spreading your thighs wide and re-adjusting himself back between your legs. 

You squeak a little in response, proud of the unintentional sound because it’s very in character for the whole, you know, matching cat costume thing. And he only responds with another kiss, the sucker now removed from his mouth as he offers the flavor through his own saliva. 

Drinking it up is easy as you lick into his mouth, feeling the way his fingers toy with your folds, sliding up and down the slippery heat before–

“Jay–” You pull back, confused at the new feeling between your legs as you look at him.

His pupils are wide when he looks at you, mouth still slack from the kiss you were in the middle of, shoulder moving in tune with each push inside of you. He doesn’t respond, lost entirely in the moment and so fucking horny over what he’s doing to you right now. 

He kisses against you again, moving his hand faster, deeper, when his lips reach your neck. 

“Cherry girl.” He mumbles mindlessly, kissing down your neck and to the exposed skin on your chest that your shirt offers. “Tastes good on you.” He continues to mumble, working his way down as he kisses over your clothes up until he dips under your skirt. “In you.”

So, yeah, you’re being fucked with a well-abused lollipop and you’re not ashamed to moan about it because, holy shit.

His mouth is on you harder than it was when he was making out with you previously. Chasing the flavor, moaning for it, gripping your ass and pulling you closer against his tongue. You grip at the hard floor under you, unable to grasp anything at all through the sudden and intense jolts of pleasure.

And he doesn’t stop moaning, that sucker still being pushed in and out of you, only pulled out briefly for him to, presumably, shove it in his mouth before circling his lips around your clit with a hard suck. And he does that over and over again, like a loop of intended pleasure where he’s just fucking drowning in all of his favorite flavors. 

To not be into this is insane, to not grip onto something is even crazier. You reach down, pulling your skirt up just to see the way his eyes are rolled back, totally unable to make eye contact with you as he relishes in the red-sugar flavor of your cunt. The image alone makes you roll your hips up, which leads to him moaning louder for you to do it again, and again, essentially fucking yourself both on your boyfriend’s tongue, and his candy. 

In the heat of the moment, you finally find your grip in his hair, pulling it so tightly between your fingers that you know it’s hurting him, but he seems to like it. Another secret of his, you guess, as you keep doing that, pulling his hair, riding up against the pleasure he’s offering, and then– god the fucking ears. 

So cute on a man doing something so filthy and messy. You can’t hold it, you just–

“Fuck, keep going–” You stutter out in time with your hips, jerking back and forth both towards and away from him. “Right there,”

Jay is beyond pleased knowing he can make you cum this way. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to fuck his girlfriend like this tonight, but he’s glad he did. Especially seeing you chase the pleasure like this. He’s quick to maintain his rhythm, pushing the lollipop in right at the perfect angle, lips and tongue vibrating against your clit in a way that forces your hips forward, unmoving, stiff and you release. 

He can feel it, that sticky sweet slick dripping out of you, pulsing with each rush of pleasure. It takes everything in him not to abandon your clit and drink it all up, but he’s stronger than (barely). He’s good to you, waiting until that grip in his hair finally loosens before–

You’re pulling twice as hard at it now. Feeling the way he gives you no seconds to recover. He’s immediately pushing his face back down, licking everything that’s dripped out of you and letting it slide down his throat before finally pulling the lollipop out of you.

And he continues to lick, and lick, and lick, sucking and still fucking you with his tongue, lollipop gripped in his hand, pressing it against your thigh as if it’s forgotten about.

You try to wiggle away from him, the sensitivity too much from the image of him going feral, to the way he’s licking inside of you, to the forceful push of his nose right against your sensitive clit. And it’s so fucking crazy too, the way you’re still throbbing, the way you feel a second orgasm coming far too soon to the point you know it’ll hurt. 

You grip at his hair again, accidentally unclipping one of his ears as you have to force him to come up for air. More for your sake, in all honesty, but fuuuuck, it’s hard to hold him here with the way he’s looking at you now.

Lost, confused, even a bit…insane.

“I can’t–”

He tries to push back down, tongue falling out of his mouth when you keep that grip in his hair. 

“Jay, It hurts.”

“Fuck, baby,” He starts in an out of breath groan, totally forgetting about the nearly-disintegrated lollipop as it drops to the floor. “Just really, really need it right now.” 

In that action, you see Jay act more desperate than he ever has, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you further down, forcing your legs open despite the sensitivity. You swear you hear him purr when he looks between your legs, witnessing a wet mess of sweetness, only to see even more the truth of his words now. 

You see the truth of how badly he needs it in the way he takes that sticky hand of his and pushes it down his pants, not even unbuttoning them before aggressively palming against himself, panting out for you to give him more. 

God. You think you might be in love with this guy. Too soon.

Too fucking soon.

What does it matter if you’re sensitive? Fucking look at him. He’s dying for it.

And so, you spread your legs wider, embarrassingly wiggling down to lock your legs around your sweet, black-cat of a boyfriend who can’t stop furiously jerking off. 

“Take it then.” You coo out, wiggling your open cunt right in front of his lap.

He doesn’t take his time either, shoving his too-tight pants down his thighs, shifting onto his knees, and immediately stuffing his cock into that same sugary slick. He holds his breath at first before releasing an insanely broken moan at the grip of your cunt around him.

The moan nearly sounds like he’s in pain, muttering half-words that can’t articulate a damn meaning even if he tried. Totally lost in the tightness, he barely notices you wrapping your legs around his waist, suffering through the way he knows he’s big, and ignoring how usually he always takes it slow so you can adjust. 

Not this time. No, you feel each pulse try to rip your hole just to accommodate the thickness he offers. And he just moans more at the way you wince, practically drooling on yourself as you clench, and squeeze, and hold onto him as if you’ll fall off the face of the earth if you were to let go. 

His mind is clear enough to hold you in return though, only because he knows it’s about to hurt more before it starts feeling better for you. Unfortunately, his mind is also just foggy enough to give you the short relief of his thick cock leaving you, only to slam in again, harder. 

You cry out at it, nails nearly digging straight through his shirt as you instinctively try to hold onto him through the pain. He soothes you through each pleasurable sound. Out-of-breath hums and moans right in your face when he presses his forehead to yours, each painful thrust followed with a compliment and a grunt. 

“So good, baby, so–” 

“You’ve taken it so many times before, fuck, just a bit more–” 

“Just relax. Please, baby, I know it hurts.”

Eventually, your body does relax, accommodating his size and painful plunges into you. Up until the rhythm is natural and the slapping of where your bodies meet sounds like nothing but a pornographic mess of pleasure. 

Both of you now losing it, you let Jay be the one to take it. You let him fuck freely, as hard as he wants, as loud as he wants up until you’ve had at least two more orgasms and you’re barely able to open your eyes, better yet function.

You don’t know where he got this stamina, considering most nights when you’re together it’s a one and done thing. Then again, most nights he doesn’t fuck you with halloween candy, eat it out of you, then fuck it back into you. 

When he finally reaches his climax though. Oh, oh god. You think you might’ve let the word “love” slip from your slack lips upon feeling his cum inside of you, pumping out and filling you up beyond what’s normal for him. 

You wonder if that little slip of words made him last longer, because goddamn did he hold you closer, and fuck did he kiss you like he never has before through the orgasm.

And when it’s all said and done, the two of you are left out of breath, a sticky mess of pink-tinted cum, salty sweat, and nearly bruised lips. You’d say it should be embarrassing to walk out of whoever’s room this is, but you actually find yourself giggling into your boyfriend’s side during the walk of shame. 

Mostly because you left the room together to find an entire circle of people outside of the door, presumably listening in. Which is…yeah, they’re weirdos. Then again, the two of you didn’t really make it into the room before all of this started. You guess you’d probably listen too if someone was getting fucked against a door.

The giggling though, that comes from learning who owns the bedroom you just got candy-fucked in. His wide eyes narrowing upon witnessing who was in there is probably the funniest thing you’d seen all night. 

Poor Sunghoon. You’d have cleaned up the mess if your legs were working properly.

But they’re not, so, good luck to him, you guess.