✮⋆˙jay enjoyer ✮⋆˙

The party’s been going on so long that the air has turned moist and the alcohol has begun to taste more like water instead of something dangerous.

Yunjins laughing at something next to you, her eyes half lidded and her limbs moving languidly. If it’s from the weed or the sheer gallons of vodka you’re sure she’s consumed tonight you aren’t entirely sure. What you are sure of though, is that you have definitely far surpassed the thin line between tipsy and black out drunk.

The weed makes your thoughts jumble together like some weird jigsaw puzzle, and every word that you manage to punch out takes way more effort then it probably should.

“But, seriously,” Jungwon starts, his words languid and low, “sex is kind of transactional. At least in this day and age.”

Yunjin attempts to smack his arm but instead she misses him completely and her hand lands between the couch cushions. She doesn’t bother moving it.

“That is sooo not true,” she drags out. “Sex is, like, sacred. Your body is a temple and all that bullshit.”

Jungwon laughs. “Maybe for other women, but I’m not sure if your body could be considered sacred anymore, Yunjin.”

She scoffs, her eyebrows furrowing in what might look like offense, but you know deep down she enjoys the easy banter her and Jungwon always seem to have. “Says the one who sticks his dick into anything that has a pulse!”

You are perfectly content to just listen to their conversation, as it would seem is Sunghoon.

You’d met Sunghoon your freshman year of university when you were still a small town girl in a city that felt way too big for you. He’d sat next to you in your freshman econ class and helped you around the city without so much as a whisper of a complaint, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since.

He’s always been the quiet brooding type, even when you’re around your mutual friends, and that’s become something you’ve found yourself finding comfort in more often than not. His presence is a consistent force in your life, and now that you’re nearing graduation and heading into unknown territory, it’s nice to have something so steady in your life.

That’s why you didn’t argue when he threw his arm around your shoulders and insisted you sit next to him. It’s why you didn’t argue when he offered you the blunt despite knowing you always get way too clingy when you’re high.

Sunghoon is your best friend. You trust him, and you know he feels the same way towards you.

You lean back into his arm, continuing to nurse the beer you’d had for the last hour. It makes your head feel warm and fuzzy in all the right ways, especially after whatever the fuck midterms had been. A disaster would be putting it lightly.

Sunghoon glances at you, his lips still enclosed around the blunt. He takes a drag of it, letting the end glow a bright orange before he pulls it away from his lips and offers it to you.

You accept it graciously, letting the smoke fill your lungs until you’re positive they’ll burst. You’ve never really been a big stoner, not like Ni-ki and Jungwon, but when you do let yourself indulge you always enjoy it.

Sunghoon watches when you exhale, his eyes following the cloud that forces its way from your lips and disperses around the room. For a moment, you think he almost looks impressed.

You laugh, your hand reaching out to shove at his chest gently. “What?” You ask.

He blinks, the movement slow, like he’s working overtime to process that you’d said anything at all. “What?” He echoes.

“You’re looking at me weird,” you mumble, dragging your eyes back to Yunjin and Jungwon. They’re still arguing over whether or not sex is transactional or whatever, and Ni-ki is just watching them like he can’t decide if he’s interested or if he wants them to shut up completely.

Sunghoon chuckles, the sound low and deep. You bring your gaze back up to him and watch as his lips curve up into that same lazy smirk he always seems to wear. Sometimes you wonder if that’s just his natural resting face.

“Was I?” He mumbles, choosing to play dumb. 

You’re not in the right headspace to argue with him, so instead you just sigh and let yourself sink further into the curve of his arm. His thigh is right against yours, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin lining on your tights. If it was anyone else, you’d probably feel a little self-conscious at being so close, but this is Sunghoon. He’s never shied away from physical touch, and at some point it just became another factor in your friendship.

The sound of your name forces your thoughts about Sunghoon to fade into the background, and when you look up Yunjin is staring at you like you’ve said something shocking. Which is weird, because you don’t remember saying anything at all.

“Huh?” You manage, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to work through the cloud in your mind.

Yunjin rolls her eyes but repeats herself anyway. “Do you think sex is transactional?” She asks before throwing a fiery glare at Jungwon. “Or is Jungwon just a grade A asshole?”

…Sex? She’s asking you about sex?

Usually you wouldn’t mind indulging in her less than ethical questions, especially when you’ve had a few drinks, but this one feels a little personal.

It’s not that you haven’t had sex, you have! Plenty of times actually, with a plethora of different men. Boyfriends, casual hook ups, one night stands – you’ve really done it all.

There’s just one teeny, tiny problem.

You can’t finish.

You used to blame it on the men you were seeing. They clearly had no idea how to please a woman and thus you were the one suffering for it. But then you’d tried to get yourself off with your hand and, well…nothing happened. So then you tried a toy and still – nothing.

It didn’t take you long to realize that it was clearly just something wrong with you. You’d self-diagnosed yourself as one of those unlucky women that simply couldn’t orgasm, and yeah, it sucked, but it was your life. How could you miss something you’d never even had anyway?

And it’s not like the buildup isn’t enjoyable, because it definitely is. It just never goes where you want it to, and you always end up feeling dissatisfied after. So you’d stopped trying completely after yet another failed attempt last year and that had been that.

You hadn't sworn off sex completely, you just stopped actively searching for it. And it was nice to not have to fake reaching your peak with every man that found his way into your bed, but that didn’t make the subtle jealousy you felt whenever Yunjin talked about her experiences disappear completely. It just made it more bearable.

You choose to just shrug, taking another sip from the bright red solo cup in your hand. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask that question.” You snort.

Yunjin raises a brow, genuine confusion washing over her features, before she seems to finally remember. “Ah,” she breathes, slumping back down into her seat. “Right. I forgot.”

Yunjin is the only person you’d confided in about your problem. She was supportive, of course, but she still sometimes told you that she thought it was all in your head. That you had some kind of mental block when it came to orgasming, but you couldn’t help but feel like that was a little silly. Why would your mind keep you from reaching what most women described as the ultimate pleasure? If it was, then that was just plain cruel.

The conversation starts to move on again, but Sunghoon glances at you and then swiftly brings it back around. 

“Hold on,” he starts, eyebrows furrowed. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?” Yunjin asks.

He pulls his arm away from your shoulders and uses his now free hand to gesture between you and Yunjin. “That,” he insists. “You asked her her thoughts on sex and then just blew past it.”

Yunjin glances at you, meanwhile your cheeks suddenly feel like they're burning. Why does he even care what your thoughts on sex are? It’s a silly question, one that you’ll probably forget anyone even asked in the morning, and yet he’s choosing to focus on the one minute thing you said in the entire debate.

Which wasn’t even anything ground breaking! You just said you wouldn’t be the right person to ask, that was it.

So why is he taking such an interest in it?

“Um,” Yunjin starts, her gaze finding yours before returning to Sunghoon. “Why do you care?”

He doesn’t even falter like you’d expected him to. Instead, he leans back and pulls you closer into his side. “Am I not allowed to be worried for my best friend?”

You swallow and attempt to put some distance between you, but he doesn’t let you. If anything, he just pulls you even closer. All the way until you’re sure you can taste the remnants of cologne on his clothes and the weed on his breath. 

“Sunghoon,” you laugh, the sound coming out more nervous than anything else. “It’s nothing. Don’t get so worked up about it.”

But he doesn’t seem to like that answer either. “So something happened?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that–”

“Then what?”

You pause, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. If you had all your inhibitions in check, you probably would’ve resisted telling him in such an open space. Because even though Jungwon and Ni-ki are trying to make it seem like they aren’t listening, you know they are. At least Yunjin doesn’t try to hide her nosiness.

You know that realistically Sunghoon is just worried for you, he is your best friend after all. You’d be worried for him too if he suddenly got weird when the topic of sex got brought up, but still, you wish you were admitting this to him somewhere with a little more privacy.

You lean back into the cushions, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Sunghoon, always so in tune with your emotions, immediately reaches a hand over to smooth down your hair. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” He asks, his voice lowered so that only you can hear him. “You know you can tell me.”

And that’s the thing, you do know. And it should be easy telling him, because you know it’s not like he’ll judge you. If anything, he’ll probably be more sympathetic towards you then Yunjin is.

But, still. There’s something about telling him that makes shame burn deep in your cheekbones.

You shrug, your fingers toying with the edge of your skirt. “It’s embarrassing.”

He grins, all teeth and crinkled eyes. He’s staring at you like you’re something precious, like you’re something he has to handle with care. Not like you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions when it comes to her sex life – or lack of one.

“Nothing about you is embarrassing.”

That’s what finally breaks you. You sigh, words slightly jumbled together and voice so quiet you’re shocked he can even hear you. “I can’t,” you gesture with your hand lazily. “You know. Finish, or whatever."

He blinks. One moment passes, and then two. You’re on the verge of thinking you’ve somehow made him uncomfortable when suddenly he’s laughing like you’ve said something hilarious. “What?”

Yunjin tosses a pillow at him, but he just lets it hit him square in the chest and doesn’t spare her a glance. “It’s not funny, Sunghoon!” She defends. “It’s a serious condition.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t have time to focus on her because Sunghoon is quickly invading your senses again. “I’m not making fun of you, baby,” he mumbles, lips dangerously close to your ear. “It’s just…cute. That’s all.”

It most definitely is not cute. It’s humiliating, if anything. The one thing you’re supposed to be able to count on your body to do for you, it refuses to. What kind of woman can’t even orgasm?

“No, it's not,” you groan, running a hand down your face. “It’s weird.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything to that, but you can tell something in his expression has shifted. He’s eyeing you now like you’re some kind of anomaly he wants to figure out. Like your condition is something that’s piqued his curiosity.

You aren’t entirely sure how you feel about that.

The night continues easily – everybody's too drunk or high to focus on whatever little blip it was you’d had. Even you forget about it after another round of drinks.

But Sunghoon doesn’t. He can’t. 

Even when he goes to bed that night, every time he closes his eyes all he can see is you. His pretty little best friend. Sexually frustrated and somehow thinking there's something wrong with you.

To Sunghoon, that’s utterly absurd. Clearly these men you’ve been with don’t know how to handle you, and that’s not your fault! No, what you need is someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who will actually listen to what your body needs and doesn’t just chase his own pleasure.

What you need is…him.

And Sunghoon is a good best friend. He always has been. All he’d be doing is helping you, really. Just a friend helping out a friend.

Nothing more, nothing less.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The next week passes by just like it normally does. You go to class and try not to think about the fact that you definitely bombed your exams. Everytime you walk into a lecture, fear creeps up your spine at the thought of your teacher handing over a test with your name on it.

Sunghoon is there to help you through the anxiety though. He comes to your dorm every night with a bag of nerds gummy clusters and his laptop. 

You always start the night exactly how you plan to. Sunghoon helps you study, you both pretend to give a fuck for an hour or two, and then you end up side by side in your bed watching reruns of your favorite sitcom. It’s a simple routine that you’ve come to cherish, one that you don’t even remember starting. It honestly felt like one day he’d started showing up and then he just…never stopped.

“You know,” you mumble, popping another cluster into your mouth. “I think we’ve watched this show so many times we could probably recite the whole thing.”

Sunghoon shrugs, his glasses hanging off of the bridge of his nose. He reaches up and pushes them back into place without a second thought. “Modern Family is a classic.”

You hum. Modern Family is a classic. “Yeah, true.”

You both lull into silence again after that, your eyes following the screen as one of the characters does something stupid. It makes you laugh despite the fact that you know it’s coming. Sunghoon lets out a huff of breath too, but he seems on edge.

His hand keeps fisting the sheet until his knuckles turn white, and he only does that when something's bothering him. He doesn’t even seem to be paying as much attention to the show as he usually does.

It’s like his thoughts keep wandering and he’s trying to make the stop.

It worries you. The last time you’d seen Sunghoon this anxious was sophomore year, right before he broke up with his girlfriend. He never told you why he did, just that something about the relationship didn’t feel right. 

But, last you checked, he doesn’t have any girlfriends he’s wanting to break up with right now, which means something else is bothering him.

You nudge his shoulder gently, your eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He blinks, his eyes glued to the laptop before they slowly slide over to you. “Hm?”

You huff out a laugh. “I said what’s wrong? You’ve been acting off ever since we turned the show on. Did something happen?”

You watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. He doesn’t move his gaze from yours, but for some reason you wish he had. He’s looking at you so intensely, eyes searching yours like they hold the answer to the meaning of life.

Sunghoon gets like this sometimes. It’s almost like he’s…holding something back. And whenever you question him on it, he usually just pats your arm and tells you not to worry your pretty little head about it. You stopped questioning it a long time ago.

But he doesn’t do that tonight. Instead, he lets his tongue drag over his lips, and you can’t help the way your eyes flicker down to the movement.

You’re not blind. You know your best friend is ridiculously handsome. You know plenty of girls have gotten jealous and wished that it were them in your place. But your relationship with Sunghoon isn’t like that, he’s just your friend.

Besides, even if you did want him like that, you’d never want to risk your friendship with him. 

His lip's part for a moment, and then close, and then part again. “I…” He trails off, takes a deep breath, and then starts again. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You raise a brow. When did you say something? You try to rack your brain, but you come up empty. You can’t recall anything you said that would be worth bringing it up again. 

“Did I say something?”

His lips break out into a small smile, the curve threatening to reveal the tip of his fangs. “Do you not remember?"

You try to think back to anything you might’ve said, but still, you come up blank. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, expression scrunched in confusion. “Should I?”

Sunghoon is silent at that. He just looks at you, looks back down at his hands, and then straightens himself up so suddenly he feels like he’s towering over you in bed.

“If you don’t remember,” he murmurs, “then I’ll remind you.”

He leans on the tiniest bit closer, and suddenly it feels like all the air has been sucked from your lungs. You and Sunghoon have been close plenty of times before, but this feels different. This feels almost…intimate.

You swallow, your eyes widening the tiniest bit as you attempt to scoot closer to the headboard. “Hoon…”

“You told me,” he starts, his voice low in that sultry kind of way. “That you’ve never had an orgasm. That you can’t, actually.”

The memory dawns on you then. The party, the alcohol, the weed. You’d somehow unknowingly buried it all the way to the back of your mind without even realizing, and now you’re dealing with the consequences of your big mouth.

You wince. It’s almost embarrassing to hear the words coming out of Sunghoons mouth. Even though you know it’s true, that doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I did?”

“You did.”

You clear your throat and attempt to look at least a little unbothered. “Well, it’s true so…you don’t need to bring it up again. It’s already embarrassing enough having my best friend know there’s clearly something wrong with me.”

His eyebrows furrow, and for a split second, he almost looks angry. Like the thought of you thinking there’s something wrong with you enrages him.

“Embarrassing?” He scoffs. “It’s not embarrassing. And there’s nothing wrong with you. You just haven’t been with the right kind of guys.”

You probably would’ve agreed with him if you hadn’t also attempted to get yourself there. You literally just cannot do it. It’s not the guys you’re with or anything like that, it’s just you.

“But that’s the thing!” You insist. Any shyness you might’ve had towards the topic before suddenly disappears. “It’s not just the guys. I can’t…I can’t finish on my own either.”

For what it’s worth, that looks like it genuinely makes Sunghoon pause. His eyes widen the tiniest fraction, his movements pausing before he resumes them.

“You can’t…” He glances down to your hands in your lap. 

You roll your eyes, cheeks practically blistering. You’re positive your ears are the same color as a tomato at this point. “No, I can’t. It’s whatever. Can we just finish the show?”

But Sunghoon doesn’t back off. Instead, he reaches behind him and shuts the laptop completely, cutting off whatever noise it was making. He pushes it off of the bed, not even flinching when it clatters violently onto the floor.

“So, let me get this straight,” he starts. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve never had an orgasm? Like, ever?”

He knows you said at the party that you can’t finish, but he assumed you meant with other guys. Not that you can’t finish at all.

“Yep,” you say, popping the P. Your arms cross over your chest in frustration. You don’t understand why he won’t just let the topic go. Yunjin doesn’t even hound you this much about it! “I’m one of the only girls in the world who can’t finish. Are you done making fun of me now?”

He leans back slightly, his pupils suddenly dilated and his tongue sweeping over his teeth. The tension in the air builds quickly, until it feels like you’re definitely going to choke on it.

Slowly, Sunghoon crawls over until he’s seated right in front of you. He leans back on his heels, studying your face like you’re some kind of expensive art piece. Usually, you don’t mind when he looks at you. In fact, you bask in it. But this feels different. This feels almost hungry.

“You think that there’s something wrong with you?” He asks, voice hushed. Deep.

You swallow, suddenly feeling silly for even admitting that to him. But what other explanation is there outside of you being biologically engineered differently than how you were supposed to? Maybe your mother drank a cup of coffee when she was pregnant and now you’re being forced to suffer for it.

You shrug. “What other explanation is there?”

He brings a hand up to your calf, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin lightly. The touch feels like ice against your warm skin, and you can’t help the way your breath nearly catches in your throat.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re staring at him. At the curve of his jaw. The way his bangs fall over his forehead like he styled them to be that perfect. At the freckles dotting his soft skin.

You know your best friend is attractive. You’ve always known.

But this…there’s something about it now that makes your stomach twist with arousal.

His fingers pause at the bottom of your knee, his thumb rubbing soft circles into it. You’re suddenly thankful that you took the time to shave last night.

He shifts, leaning forward just enough that you can smell his cologne. “I think you just…haven’t listened to what your body wants. To what it needs.”

You scoff lightly, but it sounds forced. Honestly, you’re too focused on how his touch feels against your skin to even think about whatever it is he’s saying to you.

“I think I would know what I need.”

He shrugs, tongue flickering out to wet his lips before it slides back into his mouth. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

You pull your legs out of his grip and hug them towards your chest. He doesn’t look shocked when you do it — he just lets his hand land on the bed and looks up at you.

“Why are you bringing this up?” You ask. You hate that you can hear the way your voice sounds so quiet. Shy. You’ve never felt shy around Sunghoon.

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Just lets his gaze trail from your eyes down to your chest, to the curve of your hip and all the way back up to the plump of your lips.

He scoots closer slowly, and suddenly his chest is right against your calves. Breathing suddenly feels difficult – like a task instead of something you just do on autopilot. His very presence feels mind consuming.

He’s hesitant for only a moment, something flashing in his eyes, and then he’s tossing it out the window and speaking so clearly you’d almost think there were other people in the room.

“I want to help you.”

You blink. “Help me?”

“Yeah.” He says easily, like those five words hadn’t just changed the trajectory of your friendship in a way you hadn’t been prepared for. “We’re best friends, aren’t we? Best friends help each other.”

Your cheeks flush at the implication. There’s a line between helping your friend and doing something like that for them. This isn’t just him letting you borrow his notes, this is unexplored territory. This is your body, your pleasure – all of it in his hands.

You’d be lying if you said the idea didn’t excite you.

But Sunghoon is your best friend, you can’t do that with him. It’d be wrong, and it’d change your relationship completely. You don’t know if you’d ever even be able to come back from something like that. The idea in general sounds good, even if you’re positive he’s not going to change anything about your condition, but the consequences are too great. You can’t do it. You can’t.

Right?

“What?” You splutter, a nervous laugh forcing itself from your throat. “I’m sorry, are you telling me you want to help me,” you clear your throat, your voice lowering into a hushed whisper, “...orgasm?”

Sunghoon smirks, his canines on full display like he’s some type of predator. “Yeah, I am.”

You blanch, your eyes wide as you stare at him like he’s grown two heads. At this point, you think an extra extremity would probably be less shocking than the words coming out of his mouth.

“Absolutely not,” you say, arms forming an X across your chest. “That’s…I can’t do that with you. It would change too much. Besides, I already told you, I physically cannot do it. I really doubt you’re going to be the one to change that.”

Sunghoon leans back on his hands, his smirk widening just a fraction. Like he’s taking your words as some kind of challenge. It scares you and makes heat swirl in your abdomen just the same.

“So, you're scared?” He asks, tone light and teasing, but there’s an underlying smoothness to it that makes a chill crawl up your spine. “You’re scared that I’ll prove you wrong.”

“I’m not scared.” You scoff.

Sunghoon just shrugs. “You are, and that’s okay. If you want to go the rest of your life without having an orgasm, then that’s your prerogative."

Your eyes narrow at that. You know he’s just trying to rile you up to get what he wants, but you can’t help falling for it anyway. You aren’t scared of what he’ll show you, you just don’t want to mess up your friendship for something you’re positive isn’t possible. It doesn’t matter how big his fucking ego is.

“I’m not scared,” you repeat. “I just know that you aren't going to miraculously be the guy that suddenly helps me finish.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

His eyes bore into yours – challenging you. Teasing you. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows exactly how this is going to play out, even if you haven’t fully caught up to it.

He has to bite his cheek to keep his smile from getting any bigger. “Prove it then.”

“What?”

He leans forward again, his hands coming up to rest at the top of your knees. Slowly, he forces them apart and makes space for himself between your legs. He doesn’t move into it, just leaves it there like an unspoken promise. “If you really think I’m just going to end up like every other guy, then prove it to me. Prove me wrong.”

You know what he’s doing. You know he knows how competitive you can get. He’s trying to push you into the direction he wants, to mold you like clay into his hands. And you don’t want to fall for it, you really don’t.

But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you – all smug and so sure of himself. You’ve heard the rumors around campus, you know Sunghoons never shied away from his experience in the bedroom, but experience doesn’t matter for you. It’s just your biology.

And if he wants you to prove him wrong so fucking badly, then you will.

You don’t remember surging forward to kiss him – not until your teeth clash and he lets out the smallest sigh of approval. His hands are everywhere immediately – gripping the flesh of your hip, tracing up the line of your spine. 

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for it, like he’s a man starving and you’ve depraved him from any sort of substance. His tongue slides into your mouth easily, and you let out the slightest whine at the feeling.

He groans, his eyes squeezing together tightly. For a moment, you almost think he’s in pain.

“Fuck, that’s right,” he mumbles against your lips. “Prove it to me, baby.”

You kiss him harder, saliva beginning to pool at the corners of your lips. Sunghoon licks it up without a complaint. In fact, you think he’d thank you for it if he could.

His hands under your shirt and onto your hips, rubbing circles into your skin, and then he’s dragging you onto his lap without breaking away from the kiss.

You gasp when you feel his bulge through his sweatpants, the imprint pressing right against your folds. He’s big, you can tell that without even seeing it. The thought of your best friend carrying that around makes butterflies fly somewhere in your stomach.

Sunghoon kisses you deeper, his tongue licking into your mouth. Your mind is spinning from the sensation, and he’s barely touched you outside of kissing. It makes you feel like you’re in high school all over again.

Most men don’t waste their time kissing you like this. They just give you a few pecks and then get right to work using you to chase their own high. It’s become something you’ve learned to expect. But Sunghoon is kissing you like it’s the main event – like he’s been waiting his entire life to do it.

Slowly, he uses his grip on your hips to grind you against his cock, and instant pleasure bursts low in your tummy. The fabric between you does little to dull the feeling of his tip nudging against your clit – if anything, it almost makes it all the more intimate.

“Fuck,” you sigh out, your hands gripping his shirt like you’re trying to ground yourself.

He lets out a chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “Hm?” He hums, moving from your lips to your jaw. “You say something, Sweetheart?”

You bite on your lip to keep yourself from spitting some kind of insult at him. Of course he’s enjoying watching you fall apart from a few measly kisses. But that doesn’t mean anything. You still haven’t cum, and you’re positive you aren’t going to.

“Shut up,” you mumble. Your hands slide up from his chest to his hair, gripping his black locks as he sucks at the sensitive skin around your neck. 

You can feel him smile against your skin, but he doesn't say anything else about it. Instead, he nips gently at your collarbone and then basks in the whimper it pulls from you.

His hips push up into yours again, and the feeling is enough to force your lips to part in pleasure. Hesitantly, you begin to grind into him on your own, your movements erratic compared to the preciseness of his thrusts.

He clicks his tongue, tightening his grip and forcing your hips to still. You immediately whine – completely forgetting that you’re supposed to be embarrassed – but he just shakes his head.

“Is that what you think pleasure is?” He asks, letting his fingertips drag across the bare skin of your stomach. “No wonder you can’t cum.”

You furrow your brows. You have no idea what he’s talking about. “What?” You murmur, the word breathless and whiny. If the entire point of this is to bring you to your peak, you don’t understand why he’s forcing you to stop.

He licks his lips, and you can’t help but notice how red and raw they are. Completely kiss-bitten. It makes you proud that he looks just as wrecked as you’re sure you do.

“You’re not letting yourself get any actual build up,” he explains, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “You’re chasing something that hasn’t even gotten the chance to form yet.”

You part your lips to respond, maybe fight back, but nothing comes out. Because that’s the closest thing you’ve ever got to an explanation as to why you can’t seem to do something everybody else can. 

You swallow, your posture turning into a slight slouch. “I don’t understand.” You admit quietly.

You’re half expecting him to judge you – maybe laugh. It’s definitely something other men would do. But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he pecks you softly on the nose and gently lays you down until your back is flat against the bed.

“You’re thinking too much,” he mumbles, softly tapping your forehead.

You don’t know how to tell him that you don’t know how to not think about it without sounding like a complete loser. But, then you remember that this is your best friend. And if tonight has shown you anything, it’s that he won’t judge you. You could say the dumbest thing and he would still look at you like you mean something to him.

“I don’t know how to stop.” You admit shakily, the words feeling like a losing battle as they come out.

But they seem to catch Sunghoon off guard. He’s hovering above you, eyes staring into yours with so much emotion you nearly choke on it.

This is different from the teasing Sunghoon you’d seen earlier. This Sunghoon genuinely wants to help you. He wants you to be able to experience something as trivial as an orgasm just to help you feel normal. 

This Sunghoon is your best friend.

He kisses you again, but this time it’s slower. Deeper, somehow. This time it feels like he’s kissing you just because he can, and for some reason, you like that.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his breath ghosting against your wet lips.

You nod at him without a second thought.

He crawls off of you, and the loss of his body is enough to force a breathless whine from your throat. He just shushes you and disappears out of your room. He’s been in your home enough times to know where everything is, but it still leaves you feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought of him looking around your apartment without you. You cleaned yesterday, right? You really hope so.

When he reemerges, he’s holding something long and black. It dangles from his fingers clearly, and the closer you look you realize it’s a piece of black cloth.

“Where’d you find that?” You ask. You probably should be asking what he plans to do with it, but your brain is having trouble processing actual thoughts right now.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he climbs back into bed with you, and ever so carefully presents the fabric to you.

“You said you don’t know how to turn your brain off, right?” He mumbles, bringing a hand to your thigh. His fingertips ghost over the skin, bringing goosebumps in their wake. “Maybe…Maybe this will help.”

You still aren’t understanding, and he seems to be able to tell by the look of genuine confusion on your face. He chuckles and scoots closer, but this time it seems his confidence has faded the tiniest bit. He looks almost nervous, like he’s riding a bike without training wheels for the first time.

“I don’t get it.” You mumble, letting out a nervous laugh. “How is a piece of fabric going to help?”

He balls up the fabric, eyes lingering on it before he finds your gaze again. “Just let me try something?” He asks.

Part of you is screaming at you to say no. You have no idea what’s going through his mind or what strange fantasy he’s planning to play out with you, and you’re terrified to find out.

But the other part of you…the smaller, braver part, wants you to say fuck it. You’ve already come this far with him, what’s a little more push? Besides, what could it hurt?

Slowly, your head nods up and down. Sunghoon, for what it's worth, doesn’t look smug or happy. He just swallows, his adams apple bobbing as he does, and cautiously makes his way so he’s chest to chest with you.

You watch as he brings the piece of fabric towards your head, and then suddenly your vision is cut off completely. You let out a breath of air as he ties the fabric at the back of your skull gently, his fingers working carefully to make sure he doesn’t catch any of your hair.

The vulnerability makes your core ache something awful. The thought of not being able to see him, not being able to know what his next move is…it’s exhilarating.

Your hands clench your sheets from anticipation, knuckles going a vivid white. 

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, the sound low and breathy, and then he’s moving somewhere you can’t see. You can feel his hands on your thighs still, like he’s trying to keep you grounded. To reassure you that he’s still here. That he’s not leaving.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He murmurs. You feel his hand slowly slide up until he’s reaching the hem of your shorts. He doesn't go under it – just keeps it there. Like he’s teasing you.

You feel yourself flush. “Don’t say things like that.”

His fingers slide up the fabric until he reaches the waistband, and then slowly he slips his fingertips under it and tugs. “Why?” He asks. You can practically feel the smirk that you’re sure is radiating from him. “It’s true.”

You just let out a breath, too focused on the feeling of him dragging your shorts and underwear down the soft skin of your legs. You hear him toss them aside somewhere, and then the room goes very still. 

You swallow uncomfortably, legs closing on instinct. You hate that you can’t see him or even try to guess what he’s thinking. Is he disappointed? Does he not want to do this anymore?

Your hands reach for the blindfold to pull it down, but a sudden grip on your wrist stops you.

“Don’t.” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and breathy. 

You freeze, arousal begins to pool in your core, and you listen to him. Your hands fall back to your sides and leave you encased in darkness and anticipation.

Ever so slowly, you hear him move. His hands find your knees and push them apart, exposing your glistening folds to him, and you feel him settle between your thighs.

“Poor baby,” he teases, leaving featherlight kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Never been taken care of properly, huh? No wonder this pretty little pussy is practically dripping for me.” He runs the tip of his finger over your slit, and you shiver at the contact.

“Hoon,” you pant, trying to ignore that it sounds more like a beg than anything else. “Just–Just hurry up and touch me so we can get this over with.”

He has the audacity to chuckle, but makes no move to help subside the growing ache in your stomach. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he thinks this entire thing is funny. 

“So impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue as he does. “This is why you’ve never cum, princess. You’re rushing things. How’s your pretty pussy supposed to finish if you never let her start in the first place?”

You don’t have a reply for that. If anything, it just irritates you that he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. He totally doesn’t, but still. It’s annoying that he thinks he knows more about your body than you do.

Slowly, he begins to spread your lips, his thumb spreading your arousal. The pad of it catches on your clit for just a split second, but the jolt of pleasure it gives you is enough to force a gasp out of your throat.

He pulls back for just a moment, before finally his mouth is on you fully, licking a stripe from your hole all the way to your clit. Your back arches without warning, a moan pushing its way from your lungs. The suddenness of it forces your brain to go on temporary pause, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his mouth.

He licks you like a man starved, grunts of pleasure falling from his lips as if he's the one being pleasured. “There you go, baby,” he mumbles against you, the noise drowned out by the wet sounds of your sopping pussy. “Feels good, hm?”

You just moan in response, unable to form any actual thoughts. Suddenly you’re almost grateful for the blindfold, because you aren’t sure you’d be able to handle seeing him in between your legs – making a home for himself there as if he always knew he’d end up there.

His hand grips your hip suddenly, fingers digging into the plush skin so hard you’re sure there’ll be marks in the morning. “Tell me,” he gasps, punctuating it by a tug at your clit. “Tell me exactly how good it feels.”

“So–So good,” you manage. “Fuck, it’s good.”

You’ve had men go down on you before, but never like this. Never like it was something they were doing for their own pleasure and not just because they felt obligated.

“I know it is, pretty girl.” He says. You feel his free hand slowly run up your calf and your inner thigh, before his finger is prodding at your entrance and pushing through the tight ring of muscle.

Your head goes fuzzy, hips lifting off the bed and chasing the heat of his mouth and the thrusts of his finger. It’s an overwhelming sensation, one that you’ve never really experienced before. And for one fleeting moment, you think that Sunghoon might have just done the thing he set out to do.

Prove you wrong.

“Fuck,” you whine, your hand searching blindly for his in an attempt to slow him down. “Hoon, slow down–”

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he forces another finger into your hole, stretching you out deliciously and now giving you a moment to breathe.

“I know, baby, I know,” he mumbles, giving your clit another harsh suck. “It’s gonna feel real good here soon.”

Slowly, the coil in your stomach builds and builds. Usually, this would be when you stop, accidentally edging yourself and thinking it was because you just couldn’t orgasm like a normal woman can. But Sunghoon doesn’t. Instead, he works you through it like there’s no place you’d rather be.

You gasp, reaching up and tugging the blindfold off. It falls to the side slowly, and when you look down you see Sunghoon between your legs, his cock in his hand and jerking himself off with slow, languid strokes.

It’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a guy do.

“Shit, I’m gonna–oh, fuck–”

Sunghoon doesn’t go faster or harder, he just keeps the same pace, until finally you’re spilling over and releasing all over his face, your hole spasming against his fingers. He drinks your release like it’s his own personal ambrosia, groaning through it.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, voice raising in pitch. “Cum all over my face.”

He finishes shortly after you with a small cry, his cum painting your sheets and his hand a milky white.

When it’s over, you're panting like a dog in heat, thighs twitching and sweat beading across your forehead. You don’t even know what to do or say. Your best friend just made you finish for the first time after you’d spent years thinking it just wasn't possible for you. And not only did he bring you to orgasm, he did it without even using his fucking dick.

You could seriously kill him.

Slowly, he climbs up next to you, his own chest heaving from his own orgasm.

“So?” He murmurs.

You glare at him. “Don’t say it.”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” But the smirk on his face says otherwise.

You’re having a lot of thoughts right now. Mostly that you can’t believe you just let your best friend eat you out.

But mostly that you can’t wait for him to do it again.

kitty!jay who absolutely loves slow mornings. he’ll always wake up before you do, but instead of getting out of bed, he’ll lie there quietly watching you sleep for a few minutes before gently brushing your hair away from your face. when you finally wake up, he’ll softly mumble, “morning, baby,” eyes sparkling with affection :3

kitty!jay who pretends he doesn’t want attention, but the second you stop petting his hair, he’s subtly leaning back into your hand. he’ll never ask you to keep going, instead he’ll just shift just enough that your fingers naturally end up running through his hair again. the tiny smirk he tries to hide gives him away every time :p

kitty!jay who loves just sitting in silence with you. you could both be doing completely different things for hours, barely speaking, and he’d still consider it quality time. every now and then he’ll glance over just to make sure you’re still there before quietly going back to whatever he was doing. he’s almost proud that you guys are able to spend time together like that, that you’re comfortable enough with him to understand without words what he wants and needs, and that you two can enjoy each other’s presence without having to fill it with meaningless small talk

kitty!jay who has a habit of silently appearing beside you. one second you’re alone making tea, the next he’s leaning against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed, watching you with the softest most unguarded expression. when you ask how long he’s been standing there, he’ll just shrug and mutter, “not long,” every single time, even when you both know he’s quite clearly been there for several minutes, content to just stare at you :p

kitty!jay who gets quietly possessive in the smallest ways. if you’re sitting with someone else, he’ll casually take the empty seat beside you without saying a word, resting his knee against yours under the table. it’s never obvious enough for anyone to comment on, but you find it impossible not to notice the way his jaw ticks and his brows furrow as he presses his thicker thigh firmer against yours

kitty!jay who acts like your (often relentless) teasing doesn’t affect him, rolling his eyes and giving you the most unimpressed look imaginable. then, five minutes later, you’ll catch him smiling to himself because he keeps replaying whatever you said. he hates (loves) how easily you make him laugh and get him flustered

kitty!jay who looooves when you play with his hands. he’ll pretend not to notice while you absentmindedly trace little shapes over his knuckles, but inside he’s completely melting. eventually, he’ll just turn his hand over so your fingers naturally lace together, still acting like it’s not intentional

kitty!jay who always seems to know when your social battery is running low. before you even say anything, he’s quietly asking if you want to step outside for a few minutes or offering to leave early with you. he never makes you explain yourself, he just notices, and quickly pulls some bullshit excuse out of his ass to spew to the rest of his friends 

kitty!jay who isn’t overly affectionate in public, but he’ll always find tiny excuses to touch you. brushing imaginary lint off your sleeve, fixing your necklace, resting a hand against your back as you walk through a crowd. all small gestures, but they make you feel safer every single time, even more so when you start to notice how intentional he is with them, despite acting otherwise

kitty!jay who gets so comfortable around you ridiculously quickly. he’ll steal your blanket without realizing, insist on you wearing his hoodies (“they just look so much better on you, sweetheart”), shift you completely so you’re resting your legs on his lap while watching a movie, then look genuinely confused when you point out how clingy he’s being. “no, i’m not,” he’ll insist, completely serious

kitty!jay who instinctively looks for you whenever something funny happens. even if you’re across the room, his eyes immediately find yours because your reaction is always the one he wants to see most. if you’re already giggling, he’ll end up laughing even harder, his eyes bright with affection as he takes in the sound of your laughter like it’s the last time he’ll hear it, noting the way your body racks with each stifled giggle as you bury your face in your hands :p

kitty!jay who never notices how much his voice changes when it’s just the two of you. around everyone else, it’s steady and teasing, always paired with a sarcastic comment or a smug little grin. but the second you’re alone together, all of that quickly slips away. his shoulders loosen, his guard drops without him realizing, and his voice falls into this quiet, almost sleepy murmur that barely carries across the room. you’ll find yourself leaning in closer just to catch what he’s saying because somewhere along the way he stopped feeling like he had to fill the silence. he never realised he did it until jake pointed it out, face smug and eyes narrowed as he wiggled his finger at jay. jay just shrugs, denies it, and mutters something about him “hearing things,” despite the way he knows he’ll immediately slips back into that softer voice the next time you’re alone together :3

kitty!jay who gets impossibly more gentle whenever you’re upset. he doesn’t crowd you with questions or rush you into talking, instead, he’ll jus quietly make his way over until he’s sitting beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours. he’ll ask what happened once, softly, and if you aren’t ready to answer, he won’t push. he’ll simply nod, reach for your hand if you’ll let him (you always do), and stay. if you start crying, his whole expression softens. his brows knit together as he instinctively pulls you against his chest, one hand rubbing slow circles over your back while the other gently cradles the back of your head. “baby, i’ve got you,” he’ll murmur, his voice low and calm. he doesn’t care if you cry all over him or sit there in silence for half an hour. as long as you’re in his arms, he’ll stay exactly where he is until you’re ready to let go :(

kitty!jay who remembers every tiny thing you mention. you cannot get anything past him if it’s even remotely to do with you. your favourite drink, the snack you couldn’t find once, that random flower you pointed out months ago… it all sticks with him. then one day he’ll casually hand you the random chocolate bar you tried once (and loved) months ago, without saying anything, like he doesn’t go well out of his way to try and remember every detail about you on purpose :3 

let’s go to HELLLUGHHH aka nsfw under div😳

kitty!jay who is totally a butt guy… in every way. he’s grabbing handfuls if he’s got you in doggy, the crack of his hand against your soft skin reverberating around the room as his thrusts pick up. even just walking around the apartment, he’s groping you at any given moment, pawing at your sweatpants as the tent in his gets bigger. you try (and fail) to mask at least some of the fondness in your eyes at his ministrations, but you just can’t help it, especially not when he gets so desperate just from a few touches in passing :(

kitty!jay who literally can’t help himself from purring when he gets inside your wet heat, the vibrations only spurring you on as he nuzzles against your neck, harshly contrasting the way he pinches your nipples and shamelessly gropes at your chest as you ride him, temporarily stopping his ministrations to bite and suck at your neck, his throat still humming loudly :p

kitty!jay who’s so big on foreplay that it becomes like torture for you. he’s content to just have you sat on his lap for hours as he nips at your bottom lip, tongue darting out to brush over it before you can even flinch. he sucks little bruises onto the bottom of your neck, ignoring your whines that it’s “childish” and instead opting to just start biting down on another spot, kneading at your ass or gently rubbing your clit through your panties as he does so. and you’re literally never safe… even on long drives he’s got a hand on your thigh, slowly inching up as you squirm in discomfort, actutely aware of the heat now pooling between your legs. you clench them on instinct, only to be met again with his beaming smirk, finding it harder to hold himself back now that he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. i bet he’s an ear nibbler tooughghghg

kitty!jay who likes to mark his territory by cumming all over your tits, pulling himself out of your tight throat to grab at your chest instead, sticking two fingers in your mouth to keep you satiated as he manhandles you where he wants you. he’ll look you dead in the eyes when cumming, jerking himself off with one hand as fast as he can whilst still maintaining eye contact and pushing his long fingers further down your throat. he cums with a groan all over your chest, gaze fond as he looks down at you, his beautiful girl :(

kitty!jay who doesn’t realise his size until you’re silent beneath him, face buried in your pillows, back arched. he leans down to tap you gently on your waist, still bottomed out inside of you, just to hear a muffled and whiny “can’t take it, jay, s’ too big,” as you drool over the bed, eyes teary and gaze far away. he’s almost scared at how fast a grin spreads across his face “you can be good for me, baby, can’t you?” he coos in return, forcing mock sympathy, relishing your whimpers and moans when he reaches a hand around to rub at your puffy clit :(

kitty!jay who just can’t help himself, who loves you so much he just has to have every part of you, brushing his thumb over your puckered hole as a small pout forms on his face at your twitching and whining. even after so many years he can’t believe he gets to have you like this, spread and willing to take whatever he’ll give you, he’s sooo lucky n you’ll never let him forget it :3

kitty!jay who gets off on you getting off. when he’s inside your wet heat, he can only cum after knowing you have, and it’s not even just a pride thing, it’s just that you’ve ruined him as he’s ruined you. he’s so used to the way you clamp around him as you squeal, he’s so used to the creamy ring of combined fluids that forms around the base of his cock, how can anybody expect him to be able to get off without seeing that first? even if he’s not inside, when he’s buried between your legs instead, he feels immense satisfaction when you finish on his tongue, grinding down on him while simultaneously trying to arch away from him as he harshly tweaks your nipples, comparable even to his own orgasm (so much so that he has to look down and check he hasn’t cum in his pants like a teenager) he’s so down bad for you :(

kitty!jay who (shamefully) feels jealous of the toys you have to use when he’s away. realistically, he knows it’s his fault for leaving you frustrated for a week or two while he’s on a business trip, but he still can’t stop the annoyance bubbling up inside of him when you shyly recall how you got off over the phone. he ignores the tent in his pants to mumble back, “but, ‘s not better than mine, right?” rolling his eyes at how pathetic he sounded as he said it. but it’s not his fault he just misses you so much, and deep down he knows he can never be replaced, that he’s ruined you for any other other guy to come (god forbid), but he still needs to hear you say it :(

BOYFRIEND!HEE that love stuffing his cock inside your pussy without a care for a condom or foreplay, knowing you struggle to take his size, but you'll get used to it, as he thrusts slowly inside you so you could feel every part of him (and he could feel your walls clenching around him). "Mmmhh, you can take it, baby, stop resisting me." And oh, seeing his cock bulge on your stomach turned him on even more.

BOYFRIEND!HEE that was obsessed with overstimulating you till you couldn't take it anymore. Whenever he got pussydrunk, you better pray he gives you mercy (he won't). His tongue was basically attached to your slit as he swirled his tongue around it, making sure your delicious juices went all inside his mouth.

BOYFRIEND!HEE marking you was like one of his hobbies at this point, everyday he would leave small, slightly noticeable marks on your necks just so he would see you walk around with him on you. If he was feeling really needy, he probably drag you into his dressing room to trail his kisses everywhere on you.

Heeseung groans deep, hands yanking your hips down harder until you’re practically smothering him. “Yeah? Then ride my face like you mean it, baby. Grind that pretty clit on my nose—fuck, you’re dripping all over my tongue.” His tongue laps hungrily as you roll your hips faster, coating his chin and cheeks.

“Shit— I’m gonna cum so fast like this,” you gasp, tugging his hair as your thighs start to tremble around his head.

Heeseung’s eyes flutter, completely lost in you as he groans against you, “that’s what I want. Keep rubbing your clit on my nose, cream all over my fucking face. Don’t stop, I’m fucking addicted to this cunt. Use me—let me feel you shake.”

PARK JONGSEONG

⤷ “Come here, sweetheart. Sit on my face, let me take care of you, yeah?” 

Jay lies back on the couch, guiding you gently but firmly over his face. When his big pretty nose presses and brushes against your clit, you let out a shaky moan. “Fuck,” you breathe, rolling your hips as he practically basked in your scent, your taste.

His hands rest on your thighs, thumbs stroking softly as he looks up at you with dark eyes. “Good girl. Ride my face nice and slow at first, feel my nose rubbing your pretty clit?” His voice is low and muffled, tongue flicking teasingly, “you’re dripping for me, baby.”

You whimper, grinding a little harder, “Jay—please, I need more—”

He smiles against you, voice commanding. “That’s it, baby, grind harder. Use my mouth however you want, I’ve got you. I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.” He does not stop, continuing to knead your tits, groaning into your cunt as you whine, making a mess all over his pretty face, and he takes it all as if he had been starving.

SIM JAEYUN

⤷ “Fuck yes—get over here. Sit on my face, baby, please.”

Jake pulls you down eagerly the second you’re close enough. The moment his big nose brushes your swollen clit and his soft plush lips latch onto your folds, he lets out a loud, desperate moan that vibrates straight through you. You shiver hard, gasping as you start to grind.

He groans deeply into your cunt, hands gripping your ass tight, pulling you closer like he can’t get enough. “Mmmph—fuck,” is all he manages, the sound muffled and needy as he sucks and licks like a man starved. His tongue works messily, plush lips sucking your clit while his nose keeps rubbing perfectly with every roll of your hips.

“God, you’re such a munch,” you moan, riding his face faster.

Jake only answers with a broken, happy groan, almost like a puppy, “Hm, yes—” His hands squeeze your thighs harder, desperately urging you to grind more as he devours you, completely lost in your taste. He keeps moaning loudly against your pussy, the vibrations making your legs shake, too focused on eating you out to form full sentences, all till you squirt all over his face, and he looks like a pleased man as he drinks it up. 

PARK SUNGHOON

⤷ “Don’t keep me waiting, get on my face.”

Sunghoon doesn’t bother laying down. Instead, he lifts you effortlessly, pinning your back against the wall as he hooks your thighs over his shoulders. The moment he buries his face between your legs, his big pretty nose grinds roughly against your swollen clit, making your whole body jolt.

“Sunghoon—wait, fuck—” you gasp, hands flying to his hair as your back arches off the wall.

He pulls back just enough to look up at you with dark, narrowed eyes, “ride my face properly, hm? Be a good girl.” His voice is low and icy. Without warning, he yanks your hips forward, forcing your dripping cunt to drag across his tongue and nose.

You moan loudly, grinding down as best you can while suspended in the air, “It’s too much like this, god—I can’t.”

A sharp slap lands on your ass, making you cry out, “you can, and you will.” Sunghoon’s tongue presses flat and rough against your folds while his nose keeps rubbing hard, deliberate strokes against your clit, “grind harder c’mon, I want to feel this greedy cunt twitching on my face.”

Your thighs start shaking around his head as the intensity builds fast, “Sunghoon, please—”

“Begging already?” He scoffs coldly, grip tightening on your thighs as he forces you to ride his mouth faster, “pathetic, but you’re going to cum anyway—right on my tongue. Don’t you dare hold back.”

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“y-yes,” you whisper. “i’m… i’m with you.”

“good girl.”

the praise hits like honey dripping down your spine. your thighs press together instinctively and jay notices. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, parting it just slightly.

“look at you,” he breathes, almost to himself. “already so sweet and i haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

he walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. you sit automatically, heart hammering so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

jay kneels between your legs, big hands sliding up your thighs — slow, deliberate, giving you every second to stop him if you want to.

you don’t do it. you don't want to.

instead your breath hitches when his fingers slip under the hem of your skirt, tracing feather-light circles over the sensitive skin there.

“can i take this off?” he asks, voice velvet. “wanna see all of you. been thinking about it for so long.”

you swallow. nod again.

“say it,” he coaxes, leaning in until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “tell me you want me to see you.”

your voice comes out tiny. “i… i want you to see me, jay.”

he groans — quiet, wrecked — and presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“fuck, you’re perfect.”

he peels your clothes off piece by piece like he’s savoring every inch revealed. when you’re finally bare under him, arms instinctively trying to cover yourself, he catches your wrists gently and pins them beside your head.

“no hiding,” he says, but it’s so tender it doesn’t feel like a command. more like a plea. “let me look at my pretty girl. let me see how gorgeous you are when you’re all mine.”

your eyes sting a little. not from embarrassment anymore — just from how safe you feel. how wanted.

he kisses down your neck, your collarbones, your chest — murmuring against your skin the whole time.

“so soft… so fucking perfect… can’t believe you’re letting me have you like this…”

when his mouth closes around one nipple you whimper — high and needy — and he chuckles softly against you.

“sensitive, huh?” he teases, flicking his tongue just to make you arch. “gonna be so fun finding out everything that makes you sound like that.”

he moves lower. kisses your stomach. your hips. the inside of your thighs until you’re shaking, legs trying to close on instinct.

jay hooks his arms under your knees and spreads you open gently, eyes darkening as he looks at you.

“baby…” he exhales like he’s been punched. “look at how pretty you are here. all wet for me already.”

you try to hide your face in the pillow but he reaches up, turns you back to him with a gentle grip on your jaw.

“eyes on me,” he says softly. “wanna see your face when i touch you for the first time.”

his fingers slide through your folds — slow, exploratory — and you gasp, hips jerking.

“easy,” he soothes, kissing the inside of your knee. “i’ve got you. just feel it, okay? let me take care of my shy little thing.”

he circles your clit with the lightest pressure and your whole body jolts.

“jay—”

“shh, i know, i know,” he murmurs, voice thick with want. “it feels good, doesn’t it? i'm gonna make it feel even better.”

he slips one finger inside you — careful, watching your face the whole time — and curls it just right.

your back bows off the bed.

“there she is,” he whispers, almost reverent. “my good girl. so tight… so warm… fuck, you’re gonna ruin me.”

he adds a second finger when you start rocking against his hand without realizing, whispering praise the entire time.

“taking me so well… look how pretty you open up for me… gonna stretch you out nice and slow so you can take my cock later, yeah?”

the words make your head spin. you’ve never heard him talk like this — but it’s still jay. still gentle. still checking your eyes every few seconds to make sure you’re okay.

when you start clenching around his fingers, breathy little cries spilling out, he leans down and kisses you deep—messy, hungry, swallowing every sound.

“come for me, baby,” he breathes against your lips. “wanna feel you fall apart on my fingers. wanna watch my sweet, shy girl come undone for the first time because of me.”

you do, hard.

back arching, thighs shaking, his name on your tongue like a prayer.

he works you through it until you’re whimpering from overstimulation, then slowly pulls his fingers out, kissing you through the aftershocks.

when you finally open your eyes he’s looking at you like you hung the stars.

“you're so beautiful,” he whispers, brushing damp hair off your forehead. “my perfect girl.”

you reach for him with shaky hands, tugging at his shirt.

he smiles — soft, devastating.

“want more?” he asks, already shedding his clothes. “want me to show you how much i’ve been dying to ruin you in the sweetest way?”

you nod, cheeks flaming, voice barely there.

“please.”

jay settles over you, hard and hot against your thigh, but he doesn’t rush.

he just kisses you again — slow, deep, reassuring.

“i'm gonna take such good care of you,” he promises against your mouth. “gonna make you feel so full… so loved… gonna turn my shy little baby into my greedy girl, yeah?”

and when he finally pushes inside — inch by careful inch, whispering how good you feel, how proud he is, how pretty you look taking him, you believe every word.

because it’s jay.

and he’s always gentle with the things he loves most.

even when he’s corrupting them.

© jongst4r, 2026

“pick something,” jake murmurs, scrolling through endless thumbnails on the porn site you both dared each other to open. his voice stays low, teasing, the way it always gets when he tries to play it cool about something that definitely isn’t. “something not too weird. i don’t need you judging my search history later.”

you snort and kick his ankle lightly. “you’re the one who suggested this, sim. don’t chicken out now.”

he grins, teeth flashing white in the dark. “fine. this one.”

he clicks on a video with a generic title — “couple, spooning, slow and intense”. the kind that starts with soft kissing and ends with the girl biting her lip to stay quiet. the second the moans spill from the tiny speakers you both flinch and he slams the volume down to almost nothing.

“shit, jay’s right there,” jake whispers, glancing over his shoulder. jay doesn’t stir.

you try to focus on the screen, but your body already reacts. the couple looks a little like the two of you — same height difference, same lazy intimacy. the guy’s hand slides under the girl’s thigh, pulling her leg back as he sinks into her from behind. slow. deep. no rush.

jake shifts beside you. the mattress dips. his bare arm brushes yours. neither of you speaks. the video keeps playing. your thighs press together instinctively. jake’s breathing changes — shallower, rougher.

halfway through, your eyelids grow heavy. the adrenaline of doing something stupid and risky mixes with the late hour and the warmth of his bed. you yawn, curling onto your side, back to his chest the way you’ve done a hundred times during movie nights.

“sleepy?” he asks, voice barely above a breath.

“mhm. you can keep watching if you want.”

he doesn’t. the laptop screen goes dark a minute later. jake sets it on the nightstand, then slides down behind you, one arm draping loosely over your waist. his chest presses to your back, knees tucking behind yours. spooning. normal. except tonight his hoodie on you rides up, and the only thing between your ass and his crotch is thin cotton — yours and his.

“night, dummy,” he whispers against your hair.

“night, jakey.”

sleep takes you both fast.

you wake to heat.

not the normal sleepy warmth of sharing a bed, but something better. thicker. your body hums, core aching in that slow way that only happens after dreaming about hands and mouths and friction. jake’s arm stays around you, but it tightens. his palm spreads low on your stomach, fingers just under the hem of the hoodie.

and against your ass — good god.

he’s hard. throbbing. the thick line of his cock presses right between your cheeks through his sweatpants, pulsing every few seconds like it has its own heartbeat. you feel the damp spot where he leaks through the fabric, warm and sticky against the back of your panties.

your breath hitches.

jake stirs. a low, sleepy sound rumbles in his chest. his hips roll forward once — instinctive, unconscious — grinding his erection harder against you. the friction makes you bite your lip so hard you taste copper.

“fuck,” he breathes, voice gravel-rough with sleep and something darker. his hand flexes on your stomach. “are you awake?”

you nod, barely. the small movement pushes your ass back against him. he groans softly, forehead dropping to the back of your neck.

“shit, sorry. i was dreaming and—fuck, you feel…” he trails off, hips rocking again, slower this time. deliberate. “you’re so warm.”

your heart hammers. jay sleeps less than ten feet away, breathing steady and deep, completely oblivious. the risk should make you stop. instead it makes you wetter. you feel yourself soaking through your panties, the fabric clinging.

“jake…” your voice comes out a shaky whisper.

he stills. “tell me to stop and i will. swear.”

you don’t.

instead you arch just enough to rub back against him. the low curse he lets out vibrates through your spine.

his hand slides lower, fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties but not pulling them down. just teasing the soft skin right above your clit. “you’re soaked,” he whispers, awed. “all this from me just… pressing against you?”

“shut up,” you hiss, embarrassed and turned on and so ready it hurts.

he chuckles darkly, the sound muffled against your hair. then his fingers move — slow, careful — sliding your panties to the side. cool air hits your slick folds for half a second before the blunt, hot head of his cock replaces it.

he pulled himself out of his sweats at some point. you didn’t even notice. now the thick tip nudges between your lips, sliding through your wetness, coating himself. he groans again, quieter this time, the sound barely escaping.

“gonna be so quiet for me, yeah?” he breathes right against your ear. “don’t wanna wake jay while i’m buried inside you.”

the words alone make your pussy clench around nothing.

he pushes forward.

just the head at first — thick, stretching you open so slowly it burns in the best way. you grab the pillow, biting down to keep from moaning. jake’s hand flies up to cover your mouth anyway, gentle but firm.

“shh, baby. i got you.”

he sinks in inch by inch. the angle feels perfect — spooned tight, your leg slightly lifted by his thigh. when he bottoms out, hips flush to your ass, you both shudder. he’s so deep. you feel every ridge, every vein, the way he throbs inside you like he’s fighting not to come already.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “so fucking wet and tight and—god, i needed this.”

you turn your head just enough to meet his eyes in the dark. they’re blown black, pupils swallowing the warm brown. “then move, jake. please.”

he kisses your shoulder — soft, almost reverent — then starts rocking.

not thrusting. not yet. just slow, grinding rolls of his hips that keep him buried to the hilt, dragging against that spot inside you with every motion. the wet sound of it is obscene in the quiet room — soft, slick, rhythmic. you pray jay stays asleep.

jake’s hand stays over your mouth, the other sliding down to rub tight circles over your clit. his fingers are slick with you. every time he circles, your walls flutter around his cock, squeezing him.

“feel that?” he murmurs. “you’re gripping me so good. like you don’t want me to leave.”

you whimper against his palm.

he speeds up — just a little. the bed creaks once. you both freeze. jay shifts in his sleep, mutters something, then goes still again. jake’s heart hammers against your back. he waits ten full seconds before he dares move again, slower this time, more careful.

but the restraint only makes it hotter.

he fucks you like that for what feels like forever — deep, lazy strokes, grinding against your ass, fingers never leaving your clit. every thrust pushes a tiny, helpless sound out of you that he catches with his hand. sweat slicks the space between your bodies. the hoodie rides all the way up; his bare chest sticks to your back.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispers between thrusts. “my best friend… taking my cock so quiet while my roommate’s right there. fuck, i’m never gonna get over this.”

you come first — sudden and sharp, walls clamping down around him so hard his rhythm stutters. your moan muffles into his palm, body shaking, thighs trembling. he fucks you through it, slow and steady, whispering praise against your neck. “good girl, that’s it, come all over me—fuck, you’re squeezing so tight—”

when you finally go limp, he pulls out for half a second, flips you gently onto your stomach, and slides back in from behind in one smooth glide. the new angle lets him go even deeper. he covers your body with his, chest to your back, hips rolling in a slow, filthy grind that has the head of his cock kissing your cervix on every stroke.

“gonna come inside you,” he pants. “is that okay? want you to feel me leaking out of you tomorrow when we’re eating breakfast with jay like nothing happened.”

you nod frantically, pushing back to meet him.

he groans, low and broken. his pace picks up — just enough to chase his own release without shaking the bed too badly. one hand braces beside your head, the other reaching under you to pinch your nipple through the hoodie. the dual sensation sends sparks down your spine.

when he comes, he buries his face in your neck to stifle the sound — hot, pulsing spurts flooding deep inside you. you feel every twitch, every throb, the way his cock swells even thicker as he empties himself. he keeps rocking through it, milking every last drop, until he finally collapses beside you, breathing hard.

for a long moment the only sounds are your mingled breaths and jay’s steady snoring across the room.

jake kisses the back of your neck, soft and lingering. “you okay?”

you nod, smiling into the pillow. “more than okay.”

he carefully pulls out, tucking your panties back into place like he’s sealing his cum inside you. the thought makes you clench again. he chuckles softly, rolling you both so you face each other. his arm wraps around you, leg sliding between yours. his cock, still half-hard and slick, rests against your thigh.

“round two when jay leaves for class tomorrow?” he whispers, lips brushing yours in the dark.

you kiss him — slow, deep, tasting the promise on his tongue. “only if you let me ride you while he’s in the shower.”

jake grins against your mouth. “deal, baby.”

you fall asleep again like that — his cum slowly dripping out of you, his arms tight around your waist, jay none the wiser across the room.

the next morning jay stumbles out of bed at 7:30, yawning, scratching his stomach. “morning, lovebirds,” he teases, not even glancing twice at the way you and jake tangle together under the blanket. “didn’t hear you guys come in last night. must’ve crashed hard.”

jake’s hand squeezes your hip under the covers, thumb brushing the wet spot on your panties.

“yeah,” he says, voice perfectly casual. “we were up pretty late… watching stuff.”

you bite your lip to keep from laughing.

jay just shrugs, grabbing his towel. “whatever. i’m showering. don’t burn the dorm down while i’m gone.”

the second the bathroom door clicks shut, jake rolls on top of you, eyes dark and hungry again.

“your turn to be quiet this time,” he murmurs, already pushing your panties aside for the second time in less than six hours.

you smile up at him, legs wrapping around his waist.

“make me.”

© jongst4r, 2026

taglist: @solonenova, @neabrownn, @drowsypanther, @redessertired, @pinkdazed, @enhypenlvrsstuff, @strwberrylhs, @insignificantlillady, @vanillakirstein, @jaeynslutt, @d2iose, @gchirpy, @k13endall, @unnatrual, @kpopishgirlie, @kaejua, @kookiesnkim, @phjayyy, @ineedjaeyun

You loved your husband. 

Who wouldn't, after all? Maybe except for the crooks and calumnious cowboys of the town, everybody loved your husband. The town sheriff, five feet and ten inches of pure muscle packed into that tight little uniform of his, badge shining on his chest as his leather boots stamped on hardwood floors like he owned the very air; the first time you saw him in that entire get up, the brim of his hat accentuating his sharp eyes, his sharp jaw locked right as he fiddled with his tie, you nearly fainted (ignore how it was the hottest day of summer that day). 

But unfortunately, being the town sheriff meant he would rarely ever be yours.

Only yours, even for the span of a cicada’s song.

Yours to kiss and laugh with, yours to leave marks all over, yours to be absolutely destroyed by in the bedroom. It had been almost two months now since you had him properly. Two painful, sexless months. What was a woman supposed to do?

You tried not to resent the badge, telling yourself it isn’t its fault or the town’s or the emergencies that always seemed to happen just as he walked through the door, hat barely off his head before someone’s knocking again. Worst part was he forbade you from visiting him at the station, too scared you’d get hurt because of some or the other crook.

But sometimes, deep into the melancholic night, when his side of the bed was still cold, you remembered how it used to be.

You were barely more than kids when you got married. Too young, the older women whispered. Too reckless, the men at the bar said. But you had looked at Jay standing there in that simple suit—nervous, smiling too wide, hands shaking when he held yours—and you knew he was your Orpheus.

He used to laugh more back then too, a bright, easy laugh that filled rooms. He’d steal you away in the middle of the day just to walk by the creek. He’d tip his hat low and pretend to be some grand outlaw sweeping you off your feet. You’d cook together in your kitchen, bumping into each other on purpose, arguing over salt and laughing before the argument could even start.

If he rode out, you rode with him. If he fixed fences, you handed him nails. If you sat on the porch swing at sunset, his hand would find yours without looking, like it belonged there.

You were young, so painfully, beautifully young. And in love, in that uncomplicated way where nothing else mattered.

You were inseparable, the perfect example of love.

Love is anything but perfect. 

Now you sat on that same porch alone some evenings. The wood creaked the same, the sunsets were still gold, but the space beside you felt wider. Jay still kissed your forehead when he left in the mornings, still told you he’d be home soon, still called you “darling’” in that low voice that made your stomach flip.

But it’s different. He’s tired now. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes some days. When he came home, he’d collapse into a chair instead of your arms. You’d talk about supper, supplies, the weather—practical things, necessary things, safe things.

And you started to wonder. Did he still look at you the way he used to? Or did he see an obligation, a routine when he saw you now? 

You hated yourself for even thinking about it. But doubt is a quiet, persistent thing. It slipped in when the house was too quiet. When another week passed with only brief touches and half-finished conversations. You found yourself staring at your reflection sometimes, wondering if you’ve changed. Maybe it wasn't that he loved you less. Maybe it was that he was afraid.

Afraid to bring the weight of his job home. Afraid to let you see the things he saw. Afraid that if he let himself relax, even for a second, something would fall apart. You remember how young you both were—how fearless. How sure that love alone was enough to carry you through anything.

Now the love was still there. You felt it in the way he paused at the door and looked back at you, just for a second longer than necessary. In the way his hand lingered on your waist when he passed. In the way he softened when you said his name quietly at night.

But you still missed him.

Your Jay.

How cruel the world was to take him away from the softness.

“I keep telling you—” Your neighbour laughed as she hung up laundry, “—all you need is one magical garment to get your husband back.”

“I am not wearing that old thing.” You scoffed, handing her a wet cardigan, “What’s gonna happen anyway? He’ll see me in it and suddenly drop to his knees?” 

“Precisely.” She laughed, turning to you, placing her hands on her hips, “Just trust me this one time, and you’ll get your husband back this very night.” You rolled your eyes but your mind still drifted.

The white silk garter.

You hadn’t touched it in years. It had been tucked away carefully after your wedding night, folded with ridiculous tenderness as though it were made of spun glass instead of silk. You remember how young you’d been—how your hands trembled, how Jay’s did too, though he’d tried so hard to look confident. You remember the laughter more than anything. The way you both kept breaking into nervous grins like children pretending to be grown.

You cleared your throat and crossed your arms. “It’s old now.”

“So is your marriage, honey.” Your neighbor shot back, “And I’ve never given you bad advice to this day, have I?”

“What if I put it on and he doesn’t even notice?” You leaned closer, lowering your voice dramatically. 

“He’ll notice.” She insisted. “Men are simple creatures. Especially when silk is involved.”

“Is that so?” You laughed as you put the laundry basket down, “You really do get the wildest ideas when you’re not over at the bakery.” You said, inviting her over for a glass of water at your house. These were rare days that you got to hang out with her, on days she didn't open her bakery.

“Come on, show it to me at least!” She said, leaning back against your kitchen counter with her arms crossed. You snorted despite yourself, nonetheless inviting her up to your bedroom. Her eyes went wide as you opened your closet, pulling out the little piece from some forgotten corner.

“Oh. My. God.” She gasped, making you laugh.

“I keep forgetting how young you are.” You ran your fingers over the garter. 

White silk, slightly yellowed at the edges, delicate lace stitched along the top; and suddenly you’re twenty again—heart racing, cheeks flushed, believing that nothing in the world could ever wedge itself between you and the man who looked at you like you were the only thing that existed.

You sat on the edge of the bed, garter in your hands, and wondered if this was foolish—if a scrap of silk could compete with whatever weight he carried home in silence. 

“You’re considering it aren't you?” Your neighbour said slowly, lips curling.

“I’m considering burning it,” You retorted, though your ears were warm,  “If this doesn’t work, I’m blaming you for the rest of my natural life.”

“It’ll work.” She said confidently, grinning like she had won something.

“You are impossible.” You grinned.

But for the first time in weeks, something inside you felt less heavy, less afraid and more like that reckless, hopeful bride who once believed love could conquer anything.

Maybe tonight, you’d remind him of her.

_________________

Park Jongseong considered himself to be an alright man. 

Alright in the sense that he actually considered himself to be a fucked up piece of shit who couldn’t even spare a second for his treasure of a wife. Life had gotten so busy nowadays that he couldn't remember the last time he spun you around in the kitchen, held you in his arms and kissed you all over. 

Most nights, he came home late, right when the clock struck ten. You’d already be dead asleep on the bed, turned away from him, hair falling over your face to frame it in the most ethereal way ever. One day he came home to find you on the couch, apron still on and a cold cherry pie on the table; Jay wanted to be struck down by lightning right there and then. 

His wife.

His beautiful, amazing wife, who had stuck by his side even when he wasn't the sheriff he was now.

And this was how he treated you.

Jay paused outside the door, a habit he’d always had, standing there on the ‘welcome home’ mat for a second before stepping inside, as if shedding the outside world from his shoulders before fully crossing into his home. 

The house was quiet—lamps turned low, curtains drawn against the night, the air thick with the faint scent of…..lavender oil? Jay felt as if he were transported back to the night of his wedding, when your bedroom was all lavender, roses and some good fucking sex. 

His hat came off first and then a quiet exhale as he threw his boots off. 

“Darling?” He called, voice tired but still warm. 

“In here, Jay.” You answered, from somewhere in the living room. Jay stepped into the living room, unbuttoning one cuff absently. Something kept swelling in his chest, was it the amazing scent wafting through the house?

“You’re still up darling? I thought you’d—” 

And then he looked up.

And then the world stopped.

You had seen Jay angry. You had seen him determined, gentle, amused, even broken in the privacy of your arms after a particularly hard day. You had never seen him freeze like that, his hand frozen still mid-motion.

The fatigue vanished from his face so suddenly it almost startled you. His eyes, those sharp, steady eyes that intimidated half the town, widened in a way that made him look almost boyish. They narrowed with heat as he took you in, from the way the fabric clung to your breasts down to the way your hair came loose at some places.

“Hi honey.” You said sheepishly, toying with the fabric of your nightgown. 

You had stood by the mirror for a total of fifteen minutes, making adjustments to every inch of your body.  You’d pinned your hair up the way you used to in those early days, soft curls escaping on purpose. 

The gown itself was a simple, flowing thing in pale ivory, sheer enough in the right light to hint at the curves beneath without giving everything away. You remembered how his eyes had darkened when you'd worn it before, how his hands had roamed all over like he was tracing a map.

And beneath it all, known only to you, was that thin band of white silk. It was delicate, the lace edges soft against your skin, hugging your thigh just below the hem. You’d added a touch of perfume, the one he always said smelled like home and waited in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting warm shadows across the space.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You felt heat suddenly creep up your neck. What the actual fuck were you doing?

“You’re staring.” You managed softly. 

Your heart picked up pace as you ran your gaze over him in his uniform shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. His dark hair was tousled, and a day's stubble shadowed his jaw. You saw the movement of his throat, the tightening of his jaw as though he were grounding himself.

“Can a man not look at his wife now?” The way he said it made your heart stutter, as he closed the distance slowly, “You look…” He stopped, eyes tracing you as though committing every detail to memory. “I don’t even have the right word.”

Jay’s hands found your waist, pulling you against him, and you felt the immediate hardness pressing into your belly. “What's all this, sweetheart?”

“Nothing much.” You avoided his gaze, looking down at your fingers, “Just thought I should remind the sheriff he has a wife.” 

Your hand slid down slowly to palm his hard cock through his hands. It had him graining, his hips bucking forward seeking more of your glorious touch. You smirked at the massive tent in his pants, before leaning in to brush your lips against the shell of your ears.

“You were gone for so long. Might as well have fucked someone else in this town.” You whispered, feeling his grip on your waist tighten, “Who’s gonna resist this pretty body anyway?” 

You pulled back, still avoiding his gaze, but the bruising pressure of his calloused hands on your waist told you everything you needed to know. 

Jay’s hands came up slowly to your chin, his calendar index finger resting underneath it, and then tilting your head up. You had to hold yourself back from humping against his length when you saw his face, brows slightly raised, his tongue poking the inner walls of his cheek as if to ask ‘how dare you?’ 

“No answer, husband?” You slowly inserted his finger in your mouth, sucking on it and then pulling it free, “Well then I guess I have to—”

You barely had time to pull back before his mouth was on yours, hot and demanding. His tongue pushed past your lips to tangle with yours as he backed you up against the wall, pinning you there with his body. One of his hands slid up to fist in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss further.

“What was that sweetheart?” Jay grunted into the kiss, “Who’s gonna resist this pretty body?” His free hand slid down to grab your ass, squeezing hard as he ground his cock against you. You could feel it throbbing, begging to be let out and buried deep inside you. The thought made you whimper, your own arousal growing as he marked you with his mouth and hands.

“Well this pretty body,” He nipped at your bottom lip hard enough to sting, “is mine.” He pulled back just enough to stare down at you with dark, heated eyes. 

You tilted your head up, meeting his stare with a playful pout. “Why don’t you come claim it then hm?” Your fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath the shirt, “You still haven't apologised by the way. For keeping me lonely all these days.”

“Oh trust me.” Jay’s chuckle was low and promising, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips through the thin fabric, “I’ll show you how sorry I am, darling.” He gave your ass a light squeeze as he kissed your neck, sucking a dark bruise onto your skin as he rocked against you.

His lips brushed your forehead, then your temple, before capturing your mouth in a deep kiss. It started slow and apologetic, but quickly turned hungry, his tongue sliding against yours as he backed you toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. He tasted faintly of bourbon, getting your senses drunk, though he hadn't touched you properly yet.

Jay scooped you up in his arms, muscles flexing against his shirt as he did. Your legs wrapped around his waist like a choreographed routine as he carried you down the hall. The bedroom door was already ajar and he kicked in shut behind him, the room bathed in soft moonlight. 

“Look so beautiful like this.” Jay muttered, before laying you down on the sheets with infinite care, your gown pooling it around you like a whisper. His eyes roamed over your body, drinking in the sight of you, before his hands traced the hem of your nightgown, pushing it up to expose your legs.

‘I’m the luckiest man in the world.’ He thought, as his eyes caught sight of the white fabric hugging your thigh. Jay wanted to tear that thing right off with his teeth, memories of your first night together flashing in his mind. 

“You really went all out, yeah darling?” Jay said, cupping your cheek in his hand, you nuzzled into it, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead, “I’m so sorry I left you all by yourself.” Then your temple, “Won’t ever do it again, alright?” And then your neck, all the way down to your chest.

With a reverent touch, Jay explored your body like a country he had forgotten he’d discovered, his hands mapping every dip and swell with a tenderness that belied the passion burning within him. You gasped and writhed beneath him, lost in a sea of sensation as he stoked the fires of your desire higher and higher.

“Jay…” You whined, “Want you soooo bad.” 

“I know, darling.” One large hand settled on your hip, fingers splaying possessively over the curve where your gown had ridden up, exposing your skin to the cool air. He traced lazy shapes there—swirling patterns, perhaps hearts or initials, you couldn't quite tell through the haze of contentment—with the pad of his thumb, the touch feather-light and soothing. 

“You remember that thing we used to do?” Jay said, his voice thick. He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, until his breath ghosted over your panties. You were already wet, the anticipation building since you'd dressed for him, and he could tell. “That thing where you’d sit your pretty little ass down on my face?”

Jay gripped your thighs with the force of a thousand suns, yanking you towards him as he sat on his knees on the bed. The action sent a sharp shiver scores your flesh, of arousal and deep affection. You’d only done that thing once before, refusing to do it ever again in fear that you’d break his neck. But the ever loving man your husband was—death by your thighs sounded positively spectacular.

“You’re gonna sit on my face and I’m gonna show you how sorry I am, yeah?” Your breath hitched at the command, but you nodded, shifting back on the bed as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and his carved muscles.  

Jay laid down, propping his head on the pillows, and tugged at your hips. You straddled his face, the nightgown bunching around your waist, the garter still snug on your thigh. 

“Seong, you sure?” You asked, you breath coming hard, “I don’t want to—”

His hands gripped your ass and Jay pulled you down until your pussy pressed against his mouth through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Jay!” You whined high at the sudden movement, grasping at his hair to support yourself. Now you were reminded of the reason you married this man.

Jay’s tongue flicked out, tracing the outline of you, and you gasped, one hand bracing on the headboard. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and yanked them aside, exposing your slick folds. 

And then his mouth was on you, hot and insistent, his tongue lapping at your clit in broad, flat strokes. You moaned, rocking against him, the sensation overwhelming right from the start.

“Fuckkkk you taste exactly the same.” He murmured against your skin, “So damn sweet—feel like cherry pie darlin’.”

His tongue flattened and lapped at your dripping slit, dragging up from your entrance to your clit in one long stroke. The sensation hit you hard—wet heat sliding over your sensitive skin, making your hips buck involuntarily. Pleasure sparked through your core, sharp and insistent, your pussy clenching around nothing as you craved to be filled.

“Oh–oh Jay right there right there!” You cried, grinding down harder, thighs trembling as he sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue circling it with expert precision. He knew every inch of your pussy better than you did, and god did that make you want to marry him all over again. 

“Thaaat’s it baby.” His own arousal spiked at you flooded his mouth with your slickness, “Ride my face like you mean it, gotta show my pretty wife how much I missed her.” 

Jay was already rock hard, pre-cum leaking from his tip, obsessed with devouring your cunt before he claimed it. He was relentless, alternating between gentle licks and firm suction, slurp slurp slurp, his stubble scraping deliciously against your sensitive inner thighs. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned in approval, the sound rumbling through you.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to build, coiling tight in your belly. You were sensitive tonight, your body primed from the neglect of the past weeks, and Jay knew exactly how to push you. His hands kneaded your ass, one finger dipping lower to tease your entrance, sliding in just enough to make you whimper. 

“Oh god—Jay I’m close.” But he already knew from the way your pussy was clenching like she was talking to him, “F-Feel so goooood…”

He hummed, not letting up, his tongue delving into you now, fucking you with it while his thumb rubbed your clit. The orgasm hit you like a wave against a sinking ship, your body shuddering as you cried out, pussy clenching around nothing. Jay kept licking, softer now but persistent, drawing out the aftershocks until they bordered on too much.

“Wait—ahh ah—Jay, too much!” You panted, trying to lift off of him, but his strong arms locked around your thighs, holding you in place.

“Not done apologizing yet, darling.” He said, his mouth latching back onto your clit.

 He sucked harder, his tongue flicking rapidly, the overstimulation was making your nerves sing with a mix of pleasure and ache. Tears pricked your eyes as another climax built, faster this time, your body betraying you under his skilled assault.

“So damn sensitive.” He muttered, “Haven’t trained her enough, have I?”

“Could have if you were ever home.” You mumbled low enough, but of course your sharp-eared husband heard you, now sucking your clit into his mouth like a starved man, rolling it between his lips. You cried out, the suction pulling a fresh gush of wetness from you, which he lapped up greedily.

You came again, harder, your thighs clamping around his head as you sobbed his name. Still, he didn't relent, his tongue tracing lazy patterns over your swollen folds, lapping up your release like he couldn't get enough.

“Please….Jay—I can’t…’s too much Jay!” You begged, your voice breaking, but there was a bratty edge to it, a challenge because part of you wanted to see how far he'd go.

He finally released you, his face glistening with your arousal as you collapsed beside him, chest heaving. Jay wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and something darker. 

“You’re really gonna make me work for it huh darling?” His laugh was dark, and he flipped you onto your back in one smooth motion, pinning you beneath his weight, “This your revenge or somethin?”

The nightgown rode up completely now, the garter the only thing left between you and total exposure. Jay's hands roamed your body, rough and possessive, cupping your breasts through the silk before shoving the gown up to your neck. He leaned down, sucking a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to make you arch.

“Maybe it is.” You bit your lip, nodding defiantly, though your body was still buzzing from the overstimulation, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, sheriff.” 

You knew what it did to him when he heard you call him that. And you also knew what it got you.

“Brat.” He murmured against your skin, his hand sliding down to cup your pussy 

 You were soaked, sensitive from his earlier attentions, and his fingers slipped easily through your folds. He circled your clit once, twice, making you gasp, then pulled away just as the pleasure crested. “Brats don’t get to cum that easy, sweetheart.” 

“Jay please…” You whined, hips bucking up, but he held you down, his palm pressing flat against your mound. 

“Please what, beautiful?”  He slapped your pussy lightly, the sting sending a jolt straight to your core. You yelped, the sensation sharp and arousing, your clit throbbing under the impact.

“Fuck me.” You demanded, your voice laced with that bratty tone you knew drove him wild, “Please fuck me, sheriff. I’ll be a good girl, I swear.”

“Begging already are we?” He slapped your clit again, harder this time, and you moaned, your legs spreading wider instinctively, “You sound just as angelic as you did our first time, my dearest.” His words ignited something within you. Jay had always been a poet.

Your husband stripped off the rest of his clothes, his cock now free, thick and hard, the tip already leaking pre-cum. He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the head against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness.

With one thrust, he buried himself inside you, streeetching your walls around his girth. You cried out, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. Pain lingered at the edges, a delicious sting that heightened the sensations, making every inch of him feel more intense, as he set a punishing rhythm.

Just right for a brat.

“Pussy’s made—hah—for me.”  The words sent a thrill through you, your arousal spiking, wetness squelching around him, “Fits me like a fuckin’ glove.”

“Oh—ohhh so biggg.” You moan loud, your heart pounding against its cage. You certainly forgot how big your husband was, and he was certainly hell bent on reminding you.

 He angled his thrusts, grinding his pelvis against your clit with every stroke, building you up fast. You felt the orgasm approaching, your pussy fluttering around him, but just as you teetered on the edge, he stopped, buried deep but completely still.

“Jayyyy.” You whined, trying to rock against him, but his weight pinned you down completely, “Don’t stop please.”

“What did I say baby?” His hand came down on your ass, the slap echoing in the room, your cheek blooming with head, “Brats don’t get to cum that easy.” 

He pulled out almost entirely, then thrust back in, repeating the motion while his hand alternated slaps on your ass. Left cheek, right cheek, each one harder, making your skin tingle and your pussy clench around him. “You like that don’t you, my dirty darling? Gettin' wetter with every damn smack.”

“Harder Jay.” You taunted, pushing him further.

Jay's eyes flashed, and he flipped you onto your stomach briefly, yanking your hips up so you were on your knees. He slapped your ass again, the impacts raining down until it burned, then he reached between your legs and slapped your pussy directly, the wet smack making you jolt forward with a cry. The sting was intense, your clit pulsing, but it only heightened the need coiling inside you.

“On your back.” He ordered, flipping you once more, “Need to see my pretty pussy.” 

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, as he drove back into you, the new angle letting him hit even deeper. His thrusts were brutal now, his cock pistoning in and out, the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin filling the room. You were close again, so so close, your walls gripping him like a vice.

“Jay—no!” He edged you again, slowing grinds just as you hovered on the brink.

“Beg for it baby.” He slapped your pussy once more, lighter this time, and then thrust particularly deep, “I’m afraid the sheriff will only let good girls get what they want.”

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes, the overstimulation from earlier making every sensation amplified. “Please, Jay…..need it so bad.” You were a pathetic, babbling mess beneath him, “I’ll be your good girl sheriff, I promise—ahh fuck!”

“That’s my girl.”  But he didn't let you tip over, pulling back to edge you a third time, his hand coming down on your ass as he fucked you slow and deliberate.

“Can’t take it Jay—fuck.” You whined, squirming in his hold, “Please let me cum on your cock please, I’ll do anything."

And there it was.

What a beautiful woman his wife was.

Satisfaction crossed his face as he reached down, skilled fingers hooking under the silk garter on your thigh. With an achingly gentle tug, he slid it off, the lace dragging against your skin and sending shivers up your spine. He held it up, the white silk gleaming in the moonlight, then brought one end to his mouth, biting down on it gently. The other end he pressed to your lips.

“Bite.” Jay commanded, and you did, the silk muffling your moans as he thrust back into you. 

Now in full missionary, your legs wrapped around his waist, he fucked you with long, powerful strokes, the garter stretched between your mouths like a intimate tether. Every time he bottomed out, the pull on the silk made you both groan, the fabric dampening with your shared breaths.

His pace quickened, hips snapping against yours with a violent force, his cock swelling inside you. The edging had you wound so tight that the first orgasm crashed over you almost immediately, your pussy spasming around him as you screamed into the garter. He didn't stop, pounding through it, the silk pulling taut as he leaned closer, his forehead against yours.

“Cum for me, my darling.” Jay moaned around the fabric, his hand slipping between you to rub your clit. The overstimulation hit full force, your body convulsing as a second climax ripped through you, harder than the first. You bit down on the garter, tasting the faint salt of his sweat mixed with the silk.

Jay followed soon after, his thrusts erratic as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He released the garter from his mouth, tossing it aside, and collapsed onto you, both of you panting in the aftermath.

“Fucking hell.” Jay grunted, pulling out as slow as he could, cupping your cheek as he did. Your husband was a wildly dual natured man.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath steadying as the frenzy of passion ebbed away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of your shared exhaustion. Your body hummed with aftershocks, muscles loose and sated, the ache between your thighs a sweet reminder of how thoroughly he had claimed you.

“You alright, darling?” He collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his comforting hold, “Need anything? Water?” 

‘No just—” You sunk into him, head on his chest as he ran his fingers through your hair, “—stay like this.”

Jay lifted a hand slowly, brushing a loose curl from your cheek. His fingers were rough and calloused, but his touch was ever so gentle.

“You’re really something, you know that?” He chuckled, “I don’t think you understand what you do to me, darling.” 

You tried to laugh it off, but your throat felt tight. “I was starting to think I didn’t do much at all anymore.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and his hand stilled against your face.

“Hey,” He said immediately, firm but soft, “Don’t” 

“I know it’s stupid but–”

“You think I stopped thinking about you?” Jay said, squeezing your hand, “I think about you every single day,” He said. “I think about getting home to you. I think about this house, about the porch, about you standing in the doorway.” His thumb brushed along your cheekbone. “I just…..stay away from you sometimes because I’m afraid.” 

Your brows knit. “Afraid of what?”

“Burdening you.” Jay sighed, “I don’t want this damn job to reach you, my dearest.”

Your heart clenched at his words. Oh your sweet, sweet husband. Still that naive boy you married all those years ago.

“You think I married you for easy days?” You whispered, running your thumb over his knuckles. His lips twitched faintly.

“No,” He laughed. “You married me when I was just a fool with a borrowed suit.”

“And I’d do it again,” You said without hesitation, “Just promise me you’ll let me come to the station sometimes. It gets boring here.” 

Jay considered it for a while, the moonlight falling into the room illuminating your face so perfectly. 

“Only if you promise to stay safe.” He said, to which you nodded frantically, making him chuckle, “Although I don’t think I’ll get any work done with your pretty ass hanging around.” 

“Good.” You giggled, “The town should know their sheriff has the ability to smile.”

“Only for you, darling.” 

_______________________

“One of those chocolate madeleines please.” You slid two notes across the counter, “And I’ll take a cream puff as well.” 

Behind the display case, your friend smiled sweetly at you. Flour dusted her cheek, and a streak of chocolate smudged near her wrist where she’d clearly tasted something mid-batch. 

“Just those?” She asked lightly, tongs hovering over the tray.

“Hmm.” You hummed, watching her carefully take the goodies out and package it, “It's for my husband.” 

“I figured.” She laughed, "Everything you bake goes into that man’s stomach. Tell him to save some for us too!” She leaned forward, “I was right about that garter, and I’m right about this.”

“First of all, someone's got to remind that man to eat.” You said, leaning your elbows on the counter, "Second of all…” You paused before smiling, “yeah you were right. Thank you honey.”

“Oh, I’m sure the whole town appreciates your dedication to the sheriff’s well-being.” She snorted softly.

You narrowed your eyes at her teasing tone, sticking a tongue out playfully, watching her fingers as she tied the ribbon neatly around the small brown box. The bakery smelled of melted chocolate and warm sugar, sunlight streaming through the front windows and catching the dust in the air. 

You had just come from your sister’s bar across the street, after listening to her troubles about some or other cowboy who had been hanging around the bar. ‘Troubles’, you laughed at the thought, more like young love.

“You know,” She slid the box toward you,  lowering her voice almost conspiratorially, “I tried something new today.”

“Should I be worried?” You arched a brow. You knew how much she loved to experiment, which often ended up in fire and smoke. 

“It’s harmless,” She insisted. “Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

She reached beneath the counter and lifted a single cupcake onto a small porcelain plate. Pale frosting swirled high on top, a faint dusting of cinnamon and something darker speckled across it.

“And pray tell what is that?” You said, peering suspiciously at the poor cupcake.

“An experiment.” She said proudly. “Something that will…..have the same effect as that garter.”

You stared at the desert in front of you, and then flicked your gaze to her, scoffing. “You made a love potion?” 

“It’s really subtle, I promise.” She grinned, “Plus I didn't have enough ingredients to make it the usual strength.”

You hesitated, eyeing the cupcake again. It looked innocent enough, almost too innocent. But the thought of walking into that sun-beaten station with something playful—something just for the two of you—made your heart flutter.

“Come on.” She said smoothly, “It doesn't hurt to have a little fun.”

“And you swear it’s not that strong?” Your friend nodded her head frantically, making you sigh and shrug your shoulders, “Alright then.”

“Yay!” She laughed, then carefully lifted the cupcake and placed it in a small white box separate from the others. “On the house,” she said.

“Absolutely not—”

“Consider it payment for that advice you gave me.” She said, “And also for making your husband my guinea pig.” 

You laughed, and picked up your boxes, shooting her a wink before bidding her goodbye and stepping back out into the afternoon sun.

You stepped outside into the blaze of the desert afternoon, the heat wrapping around you like a living thing. The sky stretched endlessly blue overhead, the sun merciless and bright, pressing against your shoulders. The ground radiated warmth through the soles of your sandals as you walked.

Your knee-length dress, a soft cotton fitted at the waist and buttoned down the front, fluttered lightly around your legs as a dry breeze swept through. The skirt swayed, brushing against your calves as you walked, the scent of cocoa drifting faintly from the boxes in your hands.

You walked toward the sheriff’s station, just a block away, pulse picking up the closer you got. You told yourself it was just the heat.

In reality, it was the thought of his expression when you would walk in. The way his tired eyes would soften, the way he’d lean back in his chair, hat tipped aside, sleeves rolled up to reveal those beautiful forearms, the way he’d spread his legs just right, inviting you in. 

God you wanted your husband so bad.

A bead of sweat trailed down your spine as you climbed the station steps, the wooden boards warm beneath your sandals. You paused at the door, taking a slow breath, adjusting the boxes so they wouldn’t tilt.

The desert sun blazed behind you, casting your shadow long across the threshold. Then you reached for the handle and stepped inside, the colder air of the building meeting your skin. The station smelled faintly of paper, dust and sun-warmed leather. Your sandals clicked softly against the wooden floor as you stepped fully inside, hearing the loud buzz of conversation soften a bit.

Two officers near the front desk looked up first, then another from behind a stack of reports. You offered them a warm, polite smile. “Afternoon, gentlemen.”

“Ma’am.” One of them said quickly, nearly knocking over his inkwell in the process. You had invited most of them to dinner at least once, fed them and listened to their stories.But had never once seen you here.

You felt their eyes linger, curiosity sweeping through you moved down the short hallway with steady steps, hips swaying slightly. Heat still clung to your skin from outside, leaving a faint flush along your collarbones, the thin ribbon at your waist accentuating the gentle curve of you. 

At the end of the hallway sat his office, the door half open. You didn't bother to knock, just pushing it wider and stepping inside, closing it shut behind you. 

Jay sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, oh god those forearms. His hat rested on the corner of the desk and a stack of papers lay scattered before him. His head was bent, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Afternoon, sheriff.” You said lightly, walking up to his desk like a mischievous child.

Jay looked up, and for a split second, all his senses crashed. His chair creaked faintly as he leaned back, eyes dragging slowly from your face down to your legs, and then back, resting briefly on the boxes.

“Well if it isn't the biggest criminal in town.” He said, voice shifting lower, legs already shifting apart, “You, ma’am are guilty of stealing my heart.” 

You set the boxes carefully on the edge of his desk and took a step closer, resting your hands lightly on the wood. Jay leaned back further in his chair, boots planted wide, hands resting casually on the armrests. But there was nothing casual about the way he was looking at you.

“Do I have the right to remain silent, sheriff?” You walked around the desk slowly, your skin feeling warm. You could feel his eyes tracking every step, “Do I have the right to do this?”

And before Jay’s mind could process anything, you lowered yourself onto his lap, settling there quite comfortably. 

“Careful darling.” His hands came up fast, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other against your back as he pulled you firmly against him, “You’re really testing the law here.”

Your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his shirt, forehead brushing with his, the solid muscle of his thigh pressing up against the heat building between your legs. The office was quiet, the door firmly shut behind you, sealing out the rest of the station's bustle.

 You could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the paperwork scattered across his desk, but all your focus was on the way his body tensed beneath you, his breath hitching as you shifted closer.

“And what’s my sentence, sheriff?” You asked.

“Hmm, let me think.” Jay said, voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest into yours, “I suppose, life” One hand went up to stroke your cheek, “with me of course.” 

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his ear. “How do you expect me to change with such a tempting sentence?”

Your hands slid up his chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his shirt, the badge pinned there cool under your palm. You rocked your hips subtly, grinding against his thigh, and felt him harden instantly beneath you.

Jay's eyes darkened, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But he didn't push you away, pulling you closer instead, his other hand squeezing your ass through your skirt.

“I got you something.” You said gently, reaching behind for the boxes, opening the smaller one first, “A cupcake.”

“Are you attempting to bribe an officer, young lady?” He said, gaze dropping to the neckline of your dress, the curve of your shoulders, then back up to your eyes. 

“A bribe you say?” You laughed, pulling out the small cupcake topped with thick, white cream. “Open up.” 

His eyes didn’t drop to the pastry, staying on you. He leaned forward, taking a bite. The cream smeared slightly on his lower lip as he chewed, his tongue darting out to catch it. You watched, heat pooling in your core, as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.

“Mmm caramel?” He said, licking his lips, lord give you strength, “What’s the occasion?”

“Just wanted to treat my husband.” You scooped a bit of the remaining cream onto your finger, holding it out to him. 

He didn't hesitate, capturing your finger between his lips, his tongue swirling around it slowly, sucking the cream off with deliberate strokes. The wet heat of his mouth made your pussy clench, imagining that gorgeous tongue elsewhere.

Jay's eyes locked on yours as he licked every trace, his suction firm, teeth grazing your skin lightly. “Tastes even better off you.” He released your fingers with a pop.

You brought your finger to your own mouth, sucking it clean, tasting the faint sweetness mixed with the salt of his saliva. You ground down harder on his thigh, the friction against your panties making you wetter, your skirt riding up slightly.

He groaned, his cock straining against his pants now, the outline visible as you shifted. Whatever was in that cupcake was working fast; you could feel the heat radiating from him, his grip tightening. 

“Fuck….darling, what are you doing to me? I feel weird.” You smirked, popping the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing. 

“I’m not doing anything.” You hummed, your hands working at his belt, but he caught your wrists, shaking his head.

“Baby not here.” But his body betrayed him, hips bucking up slightly, pressing his thigh firmer against your aching pussy, The officers–”

“Just one Jay.” You released a soft whine, rocking faster, the seam of his pants rubbing your clit through the thin fabric, “Please?” Your breasts brushed his chest with each movement, nipples hardening under your blouse.

Jay's breath came in short bursts, his face flushing as the aphrodisiac surged through him. His cock throbbed visibly, begging for attention, but you ignored it, focusing on your own pleasure. You rode his thigh relentlessly, the pressure building, your juices soaking through your panties onto his uniform.

“Shit.” He hissed, one hand sliding under your skirt to cup your ass, urging you on. “You’re gonna make me lose my damn mind.” His other hand fumbled with his shirt, to unbutton it, but he stopped himself, glancing at the door.

“Let me make you feel good, sheriff.” You purred, leaning in to nip at his jaw. Your hips circled, grinding your swollen clit against him, chasing the edge but not quite tipping over. He was rock hard now, the aphrodisiac turning his arousal into something primal, his eyes glazed with need.

Just as you felt the first sparks of your orgasm flickering, a sharp knock echoed through the office. Both of you froze, your heart pounding.

“Sheriff? You in there?” A voice called from the other side—his fellow officer, sounding urgent.

“Fuck.” Jay cursed underneath his breath He lifted you off his lap in one swift motion, his strength making it effortless despite the haze of lust. “Under the desk. Now.”

You didn't argue, sliding off and dropping to your knees, crawling under the large wooden desk, his rough voice only increasing your arousal.

 It was cramped, the space just big enough for you to tuck in, your face level with his crotch. The door creaked open as Jay adjusted himself, trying to hide the massive bulge.

“Come in.” Jay said, his voice strained but steady. He scooted his chair forward, blocking you from view, his boots framing your hiding spot.

You heard someone step inside, the door clicking shut behind him. “Sorry to bother you, boss. Got an update on that theft case from last night. Looks like it was kids, but we found some prints that don't match.”

Jay cleared his throat, his hand dropping under the desk to grip the armrest near you. “Tell me more.” But his focus shattered the moment your fingers tugged at his belt again. He shot you a warning glance downward, but you ignored it, unbuckling him quietly.

The zipper rasped softly as you pulled it down, fishing his cock out through the opening, thick and veined, the head flushed dark red and leaking pre-cum. The aphrodisiac had him impossibly hard, pulsing in your hand, hot as a brand. You wrapped your fingers around the base, stroking once, and Jay's thigh tensed beside you.

The officer droned on, oblivious. “We dusted the safe—got a thumbprint. Running it through the system now, but I think it's that punk from the diner. You know, the one with the tattoos?'

“Mm-hmm.” Jay managed, his voice tight. Why was your mouth so fucking hot?”

You leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the slit, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum. His cock jerked, and he shifted in his chair, one hand coming down to thread through your hair, not pushing but holding on for dear life.

You took him into your mouth slowly, lips stretching around his girth, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you slid down. Inch by delicious inch, you swallowed him, the musky scent of his arousal filling your senses. He was so thick, filling your mouth completely, the vein along the side throbbing against your tongue.

Jay's free hand gripped the edge of the desk above, knuckles white. “What….what else? Any witnesses?” His words came out clipped, breath hitching as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked particularly hard.

The officer paced a bit, papers rustling. “Some lady saw a truck leaving around midnight—a blue pickup, rusted fender. Matches that punk. We should bring him in for questioning.” 

You bobbed your head, taking him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate his length. Saliva coated him, dripping down to your hand as you pumped what you couldn't fit. 

The wet sounds were obscene, but muffled under the desk, drowned out by the officer’s voice. Jay's hips twitched involuntarily, fucking shallowly into your mouth, and you hummed around him, the vibration making him stifle a groan.

“Yeah, sound solid." Jay replied, his voice gravelly. “Pull him in first thing tomorrow.”

His fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you subtly, urging you faster. All his senses zeroed in on you—the slick heat of your mouth enveloping him, your tongue swirling around the head each time you pulled back, teasing the sensitive frenulum.

You could feel how close he was already, the aphrodisiac amplifying everything, his balls drawing tight against your chin as you deepthroated him. Your own pussy throbbed, neglected but aching from the earlier thigh-riding, juices trickling down your thighs. 

You slipped a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your soaked panties, but focused on him, sucking harder, lips sealed tight.

The officer chuckled. “You okay, boss? Sound a bit off. Late night?”

Jay's laugh was forced and strained. “Just……paperwork. Keep going—what about the evidence?”

As the officer launched into details about logging the prints and securing the scene, you ramped up your pace, head moving furiously now, mouth a wet, tight vice around his beautiful cock. 

You gagged softly once, twice, but pushed through, tears pricking your eyes from the effort. His pre-cum leaked steadily, coating your tongue, and you swallowed around him, milking him.

Jay's boot nudged your knee, a silent plea—stop. Or don't stop?

But his hand in your hair pulled you closer; every nerve in his body screamed from your mouth: the suction pulling at his shaft, your teeth grazing lightly, the way your throat constricted around the head. The office faded; the officer’s words blurred into white noise. All that existed was the hot, slick gliiide of your lips, the obscene slurp you made when you twisted your head.

“We need to cross-reference with the database from the last break-in.” The officer continued, leaning against the desk. “Might be connected. You think?”

“Absolutely.” Jay grunted, his abs clenching under his shirt. 

You felt his cock swell, the telltale pulse starting at the base. You sucked harder, one hand cupping his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten further.

The officer paused. “You sure you're alright?”

“Fine.” Jay bit out, his voice breaking on the edge. “Just... hot in here. Tell me about the truck—any plates?”

You knew he was seconds away. Your mouth worked relentlessly, tongue lashing the underside, saliva dripping onto the floor between his boots. His thighs quivered, the muscles jumping under your touch.

“No plates visible, but we'll check traffic cams.” He said, wrapping up. “You want me to handle the warrant?”

Jay's hand fisted in your hair, hips jerking forward as he came, hot ropes of cum flooding your mouth. You swallowed greedily, not spilling a drop, your throat working around him as he pulsed, groan muffled into a cough. “Yeah—do that. Good work.”

The officer straightened. “Thanks, boss. Get some rest—you look beat.” The door opened and closed, footsteps fading.

Jay slumped in his chair, cock still twitching in your mouth as you licked him clean, savoring the last spurts. He pulled you up gently, zipping himself with shaking hands, eyes wild with post-orgasm haze and lingering aphrodisiac fire.

“You little minx.” He panted, hauling you onto his lap again. His cock, still half-hard, pressed against your thigh. “What was in that cupcake?”

“That’s a secret I’m afraid.” You grinned, kissing him deeply, letting him taste himself on your tongue, “Round two sheriff?”

Jay’s hands roamed under your skirt, finding your drenched panties. He rocked you against his thigh again, the teasing reversed now, his fingers circling your clit as his payback began, the aphrodisiac still burning in his veins.

“I hope you don’t have anywhere to be today, darling.” 

______________________

“You two are actually disgusting.” You sister scrunched her nose adorably as she took another swig of her beer

She was sprawled comfortably at the dining table, boots hooked around one of the chair legs, lazily tipping the bottle to her lips while she watched the two of you in the open kitchen like it was her evening entertainment.

Jay didn’t even try to look ashamed. You were standing between him and the counter, supposedly cutting slices of pecan pie. Supposedly.

In reality, his hand had found your waist about three minutes ago and hadn’t left, drawing shapes on your clothed skin and subtly kissing your neck, your back pressed to his chest.

“We’re married,” You pointed out sweetly.

“That doesn’t mean I need to witness it,” She replied flatly. 

“What do you think sweetheart?” Jay leaned down slightly, his voice dropping just enough for you to feel it more than hear it. “Should we kick her out?”

You elbowed him lightly. “You invited her.”

He grinned. “Not to sit in my lap.”

“I can hear you.” Your sister gagged from the table.

“Good.” You turned, pie server in hand.

The kitchen smelled warm and sweet, sugar and toasted pecans filling the air. The last light of evening filtered in through the window, casting everything in a golden glow. Jay stood close behind you, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly mussed from the heat. He looked relaxed in a way he only did at home, his thumb tracing an absent pattern at your hip. You tried very hard not to lean back into him.

“Am I getting food anytime soon?” Your sister asked, “Or are you two going to keep being disgusting.”

Jay finally released you long enough for you to carry the pie to the table. He followed with three plates, entirely unbothered by her dramatics.

“If we’re disgusting,” He said mildly as he set the plates down, “you’re free to leave, sweetheart.”

“I was here first, Park.” She pointed her bottle at him, although accepting the plate gratefully, eyes already wide at the sight of your pie.

“You live across the street, sweetheart.” You reminded her.

“And yet somehow I’m still the third wheel in my own sister’s house.”

You sat down beside Jay, knees brushing his under the table. He casually draped his arm along the back of your chair like it belonged there…..which it did.

You slid a generous slice of pie onto your sister’s plate. “Eat up. It’ll distract you from your loneliness.”

“I'm sorry what.” She narrowed her eyes, “I am not lonely.”

“Oh?” You said lightly. “So you weren't staring at those cowboys riding past the bar yesterday with your mouth wide open?” Jay coughed into his fist, very badly disguising a laugh.

“I was not.” Your sister’s mouth formed into a pout, the familiar tactics she employed to get out of being scolded by you and Jay.

Jay leaned back in his chair, looking between the two of you like he was watching a particularly entertaining courtroom argument. “Which cowboys?” He asked casually.

“Nobody!” Your sister defended herself, pointing a fork at you, “Your wife is insane, don’t listen to her.”

“Hey now.” You laughed, leaning your face on your palm, “I’m just saying.” 

“Hopefully it's not that bastard Sunghoon. Almost caught him today but he slipped away.” Jay sighed heavily and took a bite, “Last time he was in town I had to break up two fights and confiscate a stolen saddle.”

You grinned at your sister—she was never that great at keeping secrets and boy was this a big one. “Hear that? The sheriff disapproves.”

“I don’t disapprove,” Jay corrected calmly. “I just prefer when citizens don’t start saloon brawls every other week.”

“He did not start that fight,” Your sister snapped. Jay gave her a look, as if to ask how she knew and she quickly cleared her throat, “I was out that day and I saw what happened.”

“You sound very defensive for someone who isn’t staring.” You chuckled, titling your head at her. 

She groaned. “You two are insufferable.”

“We’re just saying he’s trouble, sweetheart.” Jay smirked.

“You’re trouble,” She shot back.

“That’s different.” You and Jay said at the same time.

She blinked at the synchronized response and then shook her head in disbelief. “This is exactly what I mean. You’re like….a unit. It’s disturbing.” She crossed her arms and huffed, “And quit acting like I’m gonna run off with someone.”

“You wouldn't survive five miles into the desert.” You and Jay snorted, as he squeezed your shoulder lightly, “You’ll find someone soon enough sweetie.” You cooed at her, “Someone to soothe you and all that lovey stuff.”

“I don’t need soothing.”

“You need supervision.” Jay muttered.

“Honestly,” She said, taking a dramatic swig of her beer, “maybe you two should just have kids already.”

You loved your younger sister of course. But you had to admit she had a talent for saying stuff that could shut people up.

“What?” You blinked, feeling heat rise to your neck.

“So you’ll stop hovering over me like I’m fifteen.” She scoffed, glancing over at Jay who had his fork paused halfway to his mouth, “You guys baby me too much.” She continued, gesturing wildly. “You lecture me about my life and you monitor my bar. It’s exhausting.”

“We do not monitor your bar,” You protested.

Jay cleared his throat. “I occasionally ensure it remains… orderly.”

“Exactly!” She threw her hands up with a crude laugh. “If you had children, you’d be too busy to interfere in my life.” There was a brief silence.

You laughed first. “Oh yes, because raising children is famously relaxing.”

She pointed at you. “You’d be great at it.” The words were casual—offhand, something that one said every now and then. 

But the way his blood rushed to his dick made Jay want to go outside and kick a tree. 

There was a subtle shift in his posture; his knee pressed a fraction closer against yours under the table, his heartbeat, steady and calm just seconds ago—seemed to pick up when you glanced at him.

“You think we’d make good parents?” You asked lightly, though your pulse had quickened.

Your sister shrugged. “Obviously. You already act like it with me.” She stole another bite of pie, “You two would have the most well-behaved little outlaws,” She added.

“Outlaws?” Jay laughed, trying to sound stable, and like he wasn't thinking about every position he could put his child into you in.

“With her stubbornness and your personality?” She said, “Terrifying.”

You laughed, but your eyes were still on him. His gaze had softened in a way you hadn’t seen before. Jay’s hand slid down from the back of your chair to rest at your waist under the table. He didn’t say anything, as you leaned subtly into your husband’s side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest— feeling the way his hand lingered at your waist just a second longer than usual.

It would be a long night indeed.

______________

It was all bruising kisses and harsh words as soon as your sister stepped out the door. Jay didn't even wait till she had crossed the street, to grab at your waist and lift you up, carrying you to the bedroom like one carried diamonds and other precious things,

The words ‘you’d make good parents’ had ignited something primal within him, and now with your sister gone, and the house left all to you two, he was going to unleash it.

Jay’s mouth crashed against yours in the hallway, teeth nipping at your lower lip hard enough to draw a gasp, his hands rough on your hips as he hoisted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, skirt bunching up your thighs, and you felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing against your core through his jeans. 

“You heard what she said, darling.” He moaned against your mouth, voice thick with need, “We’d make such good parents.”

You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, heart racing as he carried you down the hall. His strides were purposeful, possessive, each step jostling you against him, the friction making your panties dampen. 

“Jay.” You breathed but he silenced you with another bruising kiss, tongue thrusting deep, claiming every inch of your mouth like he owned it.

Your husband kicked the bedroom door open, the wood banging against the wall, and dumped you onto the bed with a controlled roughness that sent a thrill through you. You bounced once, skirt riding up to expose your thighs, and he was on you in an instant, looming over your body, his broad frame casting a shadow. His eyes raked over you, dark and hungry, hands already yanking at the hem of your blouse. 

“Clothes off.” His voice was low and authoritative, “Let me see that pretty body.”

Your fingers trembled with anticipation as you obeyed, peeling off your blouse, unhooking your bra to let your breasts spill free. His gaze zeroed in on them, nipples hardening under the cool air and his stare. 

You shimmied out of your skirt next, leaving you in just your panties, the fabric clinging to your arousal. Jay shed his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and abs, leading down to where his jeans strained obscenely.

He crawled onto the bed, caging you in with his arms, and started kissing you all over—not the harsh clashes from before, but slower, gentler presses of his lips that spoke of his reverence mixed with raw desire. He began at your neck, sucking lightly on the pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to mark without breaking skin.

“Need to worship this body.” He murmured, lips trailing down to your collarbone, nipping softly, “Before I pump you so fucking full with our child.”

Heat flooded your cheeks and between your legs at his words, the talk sending a fresh gush of wetness to your pussy. You arched into him as his mouth found your breast, tongue circling the nipple before he latched on, sucking hard enough to make you whimper. 

“Ahh—Jay please…” His hand cupped the other, thumb rolling the peak, pinching just shy of pain. You gasped, fingers threading through his hair, holding him there.

He chuckled darkly against your skin, switching sides, lavishing the same attention while his free hand slid down your stomach, fingers splaying possessively over your lower abdomen.

“Please what, my dearest? Please fuck a baby into you?” His kisses continued lower, peppering your ribs, your navel, until he hooked his fingers in your panties and tugged them down your legs, exposing your slick folds, “Cause that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” He settled between your thighs, shoulders nudging them wider, and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, then another higher, closer to where you ached.

He stripped off his jeans and boxers in one go, veins bulging along his thick cock, the head already weeping pre-cum. He was so damn big, and it was intimidating even after all this time, and your pussy clenched at the sight, knowing how it would stretch you.

Jay stroked himself once, twice, eyes locked on yours as he positioned the tip at your entrance.

“Look at me darling.” His tone was sharp, even as his eyes were soft. “You ready for me?” 

 With that, he pushed in, the broad head breaching you slowly, inch by sublime inch, your walls fluttering around the invasion. You cried out, the burn of his size making your eyes water, hands fisting the sheets as he bottomed out, balls pressed against your ass.

“So tight—ahh fuck.” He groaned, holding still for a moment, forehead resting against yours, “Good little pussy’s made for me yeah?”

 He started moving then, shallow thrusts that let you adjust, but soon deepened, hips snapping forward with controlled power. Each plunge hit deep, the angle brushing your g-spot, sending sparks up your spine. You wrapped your legs around him, heels digging into his back, urging him faster.

“Good girl, goood girl.” He panted, one hand bracing beside your head, the other gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “Feel how deep I am? Right where I need to be to breed you good, pretty girl.” 

"Please, Jay—hah—please..." You begged, voice breathy and desperate as he pounded into you. "Need you to fill me up—ahh!”

Your words only seemed to spur him on further, his hips snapping forward with bruising force as he drove himself into you again and again. The hand on your thigh tightened, fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.

 His pace quickened, cock pistoning in and out, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room alongside your moans. Jay leaned down to capture your lips in a messy kiss, tongue mirroring his thrusts, while his hand slipped between you to rub your clit in firm circles.

“Close close, I’m close!” You whimpered, nails raking down his back, as pleasure coiled in your lower belly.

“Cum for me.” Jay’s voice was rough, “God she’s squeezin’ me dry, darling.” 

His fingers pressed harder on your clit, hips grinding deep on every thrust, and you shattered, orgasm hitting you like a truck. Your pussy convulsed around him, walls rippling, pulling him in as you cried out his name, body arching off the bed.

He didn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging the bliss until you were oversensitive, twitching beneath him.

“Good girl.” He praised, slowing down just enough to let you catch your breath. But if you knew anything about your husband, he wasn't the kind to leave you alone after just one swig of ambrosia. 

With a grunt, he pulled out, your pussy clenching emptily at the loss, but he was quick to manhandle you—throwing your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half until your knees brushed your chest. The mating press pinned you open, vulnerable, his cock nudging your entrance again.

“Look at you.” He said, eyes blazing as he sank back in, the new angle letting him go impossibly deeper, the head kissing your cervix. You gasped, the fullness bordering on too much, but the stretch ignited fresh arousal. “My beautiful wife.” He thrust in earnest now, powerful slams that rocked the bed.

You were trapped, unable to do more than take it, hands clutching his arms as he dominated you completely. “Jay—fuck, it's too much.” You sobbed, but your body betrayed you, hips tilting to meet him, chasing the building pressure.

“You can take it, my dearest.” He leaned down to peck at your forehead, “I know you can.”

His hand found your clit again, rubbing relentlessly, while the other braced your thigh, keeping you locked in place. The position made every thrust target your deepest spots, the friction on your g-spot unrelenting. Sweat slicked his skin, dripping onto your breasts as he pounded into you, grunts mixing with your cries.

“Tell me you want it.” He huffed, biting down a moan as he felt you squeeze around him, “Tell me you want me to cum inside.” He leaned down again to nip at your earlobe making you moan loud enough for the whole town to hear.

“N-Need it.” You whined, words tumbling out in a haze of ecstasy, “Need it so bad Jay—need you to fill me—ahh god—fill me up.”

His rhythm faltered at your plea, thrusts turning erratic, harder. “Fuck, that's my girl. Gonna pump you so full, you'll feel me leaking out for days, baby.” 

Your second orgasm built faster this time, the overstimulation from the first amplifying everything, your pussy fluttering wildly around him.

“Cum with me.” He ordered, fingers pinching your clit. “Now.”

 The command tipped you over, ecstasy ripping through you as you clenched down, screaming his name. Jay followed instantly, burying himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he unleashed thick ropes of cum deep inside. 

“Take it all.” His body shuddered with the force of his release, “Take every fucking drop.” He held you there, grinding against your cervix, ensuring every spurt coated your walls, breeding you thoroughly. 

He stayed locked inside as you both came down, breaths mingling, his weight a comforting press. Slowly, he unfolded you, legs lowering gently, but he didn't pull out yet, keeping his softening cock plugging you. 

“Stay like that.” He murmured, voice softening just a tad. 

The harshness melted away entirely just as fast as it had settled earlier in the evening. Jay kissed you sweetly, lips brushing yours in feather-light touches, moving to your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids. 

“Love you so much.” He whispered between kisses, hand stroking your hair, "Didn't hurt you did I?”

“You’re asking me that after all that.” You smiled, sated and cherished, pulling him closer as the warmth wrapped around you both, “I loved it, baby.” 

It was very rare for the town to see their cold-hearted sheriff ever soften, or even smile—he was as constant as the northern star in their opinion.

How lucky you were to see his rueful grin, as he pressed his soft lips all over you. He was your husband after all.

Only yours, for now and for as long as the cicadas kept chirping their song. 

fin. 

Taglist: @raven-unkind @bkatarina @shawnyle

jay's in the mirror fixing the last few buttons on his shirt, still deciding to pick up a shift on his day because 'how else will he take you to the bahamas?'.

you lay in your shared bed, still naked and somewhat sweaty from the 'good morning, happy birthday, just because' sex that just occurred 10 minutes ago.

you tried to convince him to stay for another round, or two, or three or four, but to no avail. that's okay. y'all have till 12 AM anyway.

'alright baby, i'm off to work. i should be back soon,' he says, making his way over to your vulnerable form in the bed.

he presses a goodbye kiss to your lips, but you being needy, tries to turn into round two.

jay pulls away hesitantly. 'you're gonna make me late, love. i'll be back later, and we can have all the fun you want.'

and with that, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and he's out the door.

the moment you hear his car leave the driveway, you're up out the bed.

you take a quick shower before throwing on something casual to run a few errands. jay gets home around 6:30, so you need everything to be A1 by then.

one of the most important stops you had to make was the music shop.

your man loved guitars, it was known to everybody. so, for his biggest gift, you got him a custom-made guitar. it was made of the perfect materials and even had his initials engraved in it.

on the way back home, you also stop at a grocery store and a lingerie store, wanting to have something new for your loving husband to unwrap later.

time flies quickly, and before you know it, there's thirty minutes until jay comes home.

you take in your surroundings, giving them one last scan. you look at the giant '23' balloons you have floating around, the streamers, the flowers, the food. everything looks just how you imagined.

you spritz on one last squirt of pheromone perfume and wait on the couch for the sound of his keys.

a few minutes pass and you hear him approaching, causing you to stand up and smooth out your dress.

the door opens, and jay doesn't immediately notice everything, focused on taking his shoes off.

but man, his face when he realizes ... should've recorded that shit.

'baby... what's all this?' he says, looking around.

'happy birthday, jay. it's for you... !'

he stands there stunned, with the dopiest smile on his face. your heels finally click towards him, pressing a kiss on his lips.

'come on, let's eat.' you say, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the kitchen, purposely swishing your hips as you walk, definitely drawing attention from jay.

he tears that food UP!

he leans back in the chair, stuffed with the meal you made for him. you swiftly grab his plate and yours, throwing them on the sink, making them tomorrows problem.

you sneak behind him, rubbing his shoulders, feeling the tenseness leave his body, as he throws his head back. (if you know you know.)

god, he looks so good ... eyes blown out from being a little wine drunk, hair a little messy from work ... yea, it's time to get him up in that bed.

you lead up to your shared bedroom, stopping at the door.

'I have one more big surprise for you..'

you open the door, reveal a beautiful guitar sitting on its stand.

jay's mouth drops open before he dashes over there, picking up the instrument.

'baby... how ... you didn't have to do this for me...' he says, studying the guitar design, thick fingers grazing over the strings ... those thick... beautiful fingers ..

you stride over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, playing with the hair on his nape.

"of course I did, jay. you've given me everything i've ever wanted ... this is the least I could do.' you reassure him.

he sets the guitar back on its stand before wrapping his arms around your waist. you can tell he's been hitting the gym lately, his strong arms wrapped against you. he buries his face in your shoulder, taking in your scent.

'geez baby, you smell heavenly, this a new perfume?' he says going back in to press some kisses on your bare shoulder.

'it's a secret' you smile, parting from him, guilding him to sit on the bed. 'now wait here, i left something in the bathroom..' you say sneaking away. little did he know you had something planned.

you freshen yourself up in the bathroom and strip your dress off, revealing the black lingerie you hid under. you then hit play on your phone, cater 2 u by destiny's child blasting through the bluetooth speaker in your room.

you strut out the bathroom and make your way towards jay as the intro plays. just when this man thought you couldn't wow him more.

"Baby I see you working hard, I want to let you know I'm proud, let you know that I admire what you do. don't know if I need to reassure you, my life would be purposeless without you.."

beyonce sings through the speaker as you sway your hips and roll your body to the music.

"You inspire me to be better, you challenge me for the better, sit back and let me pour out my love letter"

jay leans back in awe, adjusting his position in reaction to his pants, starting to feel tight.

"remain the same chick, you fell in love with. I'll keep it tight, i'll keep my figure right I'll keep my hair fixed.."

you point towards jay as you make your way towards him, bending over in front him, giving him a closer look at what you have to offer him.

"when you come home late, tap me on my shoulder, I'll roll over.. baby, I heard you, i'm here to serve you. If it's love you need, to give it is my joy, all I wanna do, is cater to you boy"

you finally plop down in jay's lap, rolling your hips on top of him, chest right his face as you grind right against him.

the song continues, you feeling jay get harder underneath you with each verse as his hands rest on your hips.

you grab his face, looking right into his eyes. you see lust, want and need. but even behind that, jay's eyes are filled with so much admiration and love. as the song comes to an end, you see his eyes become glossy, causing yours to water as well.

you press a passionate, needy kiss to his lips as your hips continue to the beat.

the song finally ends, but your hips don't. dangerously in love comes on next in the recommended songs, perfect.

you and jay's kisses progressively become more rushed, both of your bodies falling back onto the bed, you straddling him.

your hips never stop moving, as you grind on him through his pants.

'fuck, princess ... keep moving like that.'

you do exactly that, hands trailing down to the buttons of his shirt, exposing his bare chest. you lean down to kiss down his chest, leaving marks as you go down.

you finally get off him, giving jay a second to catch his breath. your hands fly to his belt, unbuckling it and pulling down his pants, revealing what's underneath.

typically, jay is the one going down on you. one of his favorite activities, truly. he won't even ask you for head, for he feels its degrading, but that never stopped you and it definitely won't tonight.

you rid his boxers and lick a stripe up his length, making him groan out loud.

you've been needy for your husband since this morning, so you don't waste any time taking him in your mouth.

jay let's out another strangled groan, almost as if he tried to hold it in but couldn't anymore.

you use every trick you know he likes, trying to have him hurdling towards the edge before he can even realize.

'mm... i love this dick..' you say taking him back into your mouth.

you notice jay had a physical reaction to that ... this man has a praise kink. you decide you're going to use this to your advantage tonight.

you wrap your hands around what's not in your mouth and hum against him.

'my handsome husband... treats me so fucking good. just wanna suck him dry as a thank you ...' you say looking at him throught your lashes.

jay's hips jerk up. you can tell he's really close.

you take him all the way to the back of your throat, tears brimming at your eyes as swallow around him. jay's hands hover over your head, his stomach contracting.

'fuck baby i'm gonna cum..' he says, breathing increasing.

you hum against him again, moving your head up and down, sucking him like it's your life's mission.

you take him to the back of your throat one more time before he releases, shooting down your throat with a loud moan.

you continue to work him through his orgasm, happily swallowing what he gives you and continuing to lick him up.

you finally get up from your position, giving jay a goofy smile like you didn't almost end him.

'bring that ass up here, pretty.' he says as his hands, signal for you to come closer.

he pulls you in for a nasty, lustful kiss, one that says everything you need to know. he pulls apart, readjusting himself on the pillow, giving you a look you know all too well.

'jay... tonights about you only..!' you say, rubbing your hands on his chest.

'exactly ... and right now, I want to taste you.

the look he gives you sends shivers down your spine as you climb your way up to his face. you hover over his lips before he pulls your set to the side, grabs your waist, and forces you down.

you let out a sharp moan as you feel him work his magic on you. this man truly is good at everything he does.

he eats you like he's starved. like he's been denied the taste of heaven for years and doesn't know if he'll ever have it again after this. like he's been waiting for this moment.

'yes- fuck, jay ... it's yours, baby i promise.'

he hums against you, only speeding up his actions, head moving side to side.

you would be embarrassed, you know, at the amount of slurping and wet noises coming from down there, but he doesn't even give you the breath to. before you know it you're cumming all over his face.

jay pulls away with a pop before you hop off him.

'still got another round in you, baby?' you say grabbing his length and getting it ready for you.

'i'm ready to put a baby in you if anything. you look so good like this.' he says, rubbing your ass as you get ready to arch for him.

you giggle at his comment, but luckily, he didn't see you clench at the thought of being filled up.

you make your arch as deep as possible before wiggling your ass in front of him. he gives it a slap before rubbing himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick.

he finally slides himself in, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. he gives you a second to adjust before he pulls himself nearly out and slams back into you.

jay knows your body like the back of his own hand, so it doesn't take him long to make you feel like your gonna cum.

'fuck baby ... you're s-so fucking deep.' you say as each thrust lunges you foward.

jay sounds angelic as he moans every few thrust. that's enough to get you pregnant right there.

'yea baby? 's too much?" he says, slowing down, making you feel every ridge and inch.

'mm-m no ... fuck it's so good..'

he picks his pace back up, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

'you close, baby? you gonna cum for me?" he speaks as he reaches for your hand.

'yes jay fuck... keep fucking me like that.. this pussy's all yours..'

''m gonna make you a daddy.."

jay's pace falters immediately, thrusts becoming uneven.

'fuck, y/n, you can't just say that.' he says eyebrows scrunching. you can tell he's close.

'please jay ... i want it so bad ... want you to cum so deep inside me ... wanna give you a baby jay ... you're gonna be such a good father..- fuck you're gonna make me cum.'

jay lifts your leg up, forcing himself deep inside as he releases right there, triggering your release right after.

after a few minutes, jay finally lifts up off you and pulls out, being careful not to waste anything.

'you really wanna have a baby?' he says as you guys lay there, catching your breath.

'jay, you're literally the best man I could ask for. i'd give you 9 kids if you asked me to."

he laughs at your statement before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Your boyfriend was hot—there was no denying it. But after the fourth or fifth round of him and Heeseung barking at each other over a stupid shooter game? Fucking yawn. It got a little bit boring. You were getting antsy—desperate for even a little bit of attention. Jay was sweet, a hand resting on your thigh in between matches. But it just wasn't enough.

You were a human.

You had needs.

And maybe those needs just so happened to be sitting on the couch, man spreading and whining about whatever-the-fuck, while your boyfriend went to the bathroom. You were bold in every sense of the word; you didn't really give a damn what anyone thought about you. And with permission from your boyfriend?

You were already crawling over to where Heeseung sat on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone, completely in his own world and not at all paying attention to the scheming smirk you had across your lips.

That wasn't until you dramatically sighed, pulled his phone right out of his hands, and settled atop his perfect lap. Heeseung put his hands up—he refused to touch you, not until Jay said something. Yeah, sure, that whole video debacle had been running rampant through his mind for weeks; you know, the one where you asked all of your boyfriend's friends to fuck you.

Heeseung assumed that's what this was about, but Jay was fucking scary when he got mad; and nothing riled him up more than some uninvited guest coming onto his beloved girlfriend.

"Woah, wha,"

"Do you wanna cash in your check?" You ask, eyes wide and begging for anything. Your hands rest on his abdomen, softly stroking the baggy shirt that covers his skin. You bite your lip softly—really playing into the whole needy act.

"Do I wanna what?" Heeseung was already out of breath.

"Cash in your check," you repeat. Your hands snake up to his chest carefully; your eyes dart down to that spot caged in between your thighs. Heeseung was already getting hard. "Sunghoon did a few days ago."

"Sunghoon wha,"

"What the fuck," Jay scoffs, appearing in the doorway to the living room. He wipes his damp hands onto his t-shirt, strolling over to the two of you on the couch. Jay's hand finds the crown of your head, petting you softly. "Seriously, babe? You're so fucking easy."

"You let Sunghoon fuck her?" Heeseung nearly screams, hands flying to your waist when you roll your hips in a particularly torturous way.

Jay shrugs, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head, "I mean—he didn't fuck her."

"What the fuck is that s'posed—mpfh," you roll your hips again, leaning closer into Heeseung's touch. "S'posed to mean?"

"I give you guys a choice," he responds. Jay stops giving you attention, instead finding the spot next to Heeseung. He leans back against the couch, head tipped up to the ceiling and legs spread wide, showcasing his own growing bulge. "You can either fuck her mouth, or fuck her pussy—not both."

"And what did he choose?" Heeseung's grip on your waist tightens as you continue to move—soft, slow, needy. All of his words come out short and through gritted teeth as if he's desperately trying to keep his composure. And, well, he kinda is. Even without actually feeling you, Heeseung can tell just how good of a fuck you'll be.

You dip down into Heeseung, lips finding his neck. He lets out a quiet moan which he quickly bites back.

Jay smirks at his friend, raising his eyebrows in silent recognition. "He chose her mouth."

Heeseung nods, eyebrows furrowing. He pushes you away—only slightly—to watch the movement in between you two. He watches the way your hips slowly grind onto his clothed cock; he watches as his cock springs to life with your every roll; he watches his patience and self-respect slowly dissipate into a horniness he's genuinely never felt before in his life.

You're whining over him, hands fisting his shirt desperately. Jay's hand slides up Heeseung's neck and settles in his hair. He plays with it, waiting for Heeseung to respond to his imaginary question. Heeseung outright moans, head falling back into Jay's hand, turning to look at his friend.

"What do you choose?" Jay whispers, eyes softening at how desperate you've already made Heeseung.

"Fuck," Heeseung groans once more, sucking in a breath through his teeth. "Can she ride me?"

Jay chuckles, "You wanna ride him, baby?"

You nod feverishly, hips stalling as you look to your boyfriend. He turns to Heeseung, flashing him a smirk before he pushes himself off the couch. Jay finds himself behind you, hands atop your breasts as he massages them through your shirt.

"You're lucky," he begins, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, "I didn't let Sunghoon take her shirt off—but you won't get the full experience unless you see her tits."

Heeseung groans at Jay's words. You lift your arms, whining softly as Jay tugs the fabric over your head; your hands fly right back to Heeseung's chest, fingers digging into his shirt.

Behind you, Jay tuts. He reaches for the clasp of your bra, wasting no time in unbuttoning it and sliding it off of your body. His hands cover Heeseung's on your waist, pulling you up off of him. "C'mon, baby," Jay coos. He kisses your neck softly, eyes locked on Heeseung. "Show him how pretty your tits are."

You start to curl in on yourself, fingers finding the hem of Heeseung's shirt as they nervously play with it. Heeseung is floored; his eyes are wide and mouth agape. He glances up at Jay, silently asking for permission. When Jay nods, Heeseung wastes no time before grabbing your breasts. The mounds find Heeseung's hands delicately as he toys with them, fingers brushing over you nipples to watch you squirm.

"You have no idea how much I think about these," he whispers. Heeseung leans forward and places a soft kiss onto one of your breasts—he looks up at you with the prettiest eyes you've ever seen.

"I think I have some kind of idea," Jay quips.

Heeseung takes one of your mounds into his mouth, lips wrapping around you carefully as his tongue finds your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the bud, moaning into your flesh as he feels you shake. Your hands fly to his hair, tugging at the strands softly.

"Heeseung," you gasp, hips rocking against his lap. "Jay," you whine, "feels so good."

"Yeah, I know," he coos back at you. Jay's hand finds your hair, softly brushing through it as he watches this whole scene unfold from behind. "You love getting your tits sucked, hm?"

You nod at his words; Heeseung moans.

"Please, Heeseung," you push his forehead—an attempt to get him off of your chest and looking into your eyes. "'m so," Your lip quivers as you stare at him.

Heeseung looks up at you before turning his attention to Jay. "You're fucking joking," he says, breathless.

Jay just laughs at Heeseung's breathlessness before feigning ignorance. "Wha'dya mean?"

"She's a fucking wet dream, dude," Heeseung throws his head back, grip tightening on your waist as he eggs you to keep grinding down onto him. He squeezes his eyes shut, letting a drawn out moan erupt from his chest. "Fucking shaking—'re you that needy?"

You nod, hands sliding down to palm his cock through his sweatpants. "Please, Heeseung," you whisper, "wanna feel you."

Heeseung just nods at you, eyes lidded. His hands cover your own, coaxing you off of his bulge. His hands fidget with his waistband, finally freeing himself. Heeseung holds his cock in his hand, hissing as he watches the precum dribble out from his tip.

Jay lets out a low whistle, "Wow, Hee," he teases, "look at that." Jay leans down, hooking his chin over your shoulder. He places a kiss on your neck. "You're fucking leaking," he chuckles, turning to you, "guess you're not the only needy one, hm?"

Heeseung whines when you reach out, wrapping your hand around his dick. You pump him a few times, lifting your hips as your hands move to remove your shorts.

"No prep?" Jay teases.

"I don't need it," you mumble as your shorts messily come off.

Jay quirks a brow, scoffing. "No fucking way."

"What?" Heeseung groans. You lean forward, pecking the corner of his mouth as you lift up and line his tip up with your entrance.

"You little,"

"What the fuck are you talking about, man?" Heeseung's hands dig into your waist so hard you're sure you'll have bruises the next morning. He whines, head thrown back as you sink down onto the tip of his leaking cock.

"She fucking fingered herself 'cause she knew you'd be over," he scoffs.

If you thought Heeseung was being loud before—that comment turned the notch up twelve decibels. Jay's comment mixed with you bottoming out on his cock, well, Heeseung was honestly shocked he didn't cum right then and there.

Heeseung keeps his tight grip on you, steadying you where you sit on his pelvis. You watch the deep rise and fall of his chest; the way he lets the breaths be audible and ring out into the living room. His eyes are squeezed shut, but every time they open even a little bit, you notice how they're rolled back.

"Heeseung," you whine, "'m so full."

"Move for him," Jay coaxes. He peppers kisses on your neck, hands covering Heeseung's own. "Let him feel you, yeah?"

You listen to Jay, picking up your hips before slowly lowering back down onto him. You set a steady rhythm—slow and controlled. With every movement, you can feel all of Heeseung. He was around the same size as Sunghoon—although Sunghoon was thicker in girth. Neither of them simulated Jay's cock, that you were positive about. You feel the drag of his cock along your walls; feel every vein and throb his length offers.

You're trying to play it cool, trying to make it seem as if this is a normal occurrence, but it's simply not. No matter how many times Jay fucks you—you'll never get used to his cock, it's just not possible. Heeseung's size fills you up perfectly, but it still takes a while to get used to. The stretch burns—but Jay said to move, so you moved.

You pick up the pace when you feel the burn start subside. One of Jay's hands snakes forward, applying pressure onto your clit. You moan your boyfriend's name, head falling forward onto Heeseung's shoulder. "Fuck—right there."

You notice when Heeseung starts to get more comfortable—the way his hips start to meet yours with thrusts of his own, the way he takes a little bit more control of the whole situation, offering you help and easing some of the pressure off your legs.

"Her pussy's so fuckin' tight, Jay," Heeseung moans. He's entranced by you entirely.

Jay's fingers speed up on your clit, smirking at Heeseung's words. Jay watches Heeseung's face—every twitch, every tense of muscle, every reaction to your body.

If you thought you were having trouble keeping it together, then Jay had it ten times worse. He was trying to play the cool, dominant boyfriend who shares his girlfriend with his friends—he didn't know it'd turn him on so fucking much. The neglect of his cock was torturous, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

The tip of Heeseung's cock hit that spot, and when you moaned particularly loud, Heeseung kept up the pace. He found it again and again, abusing your poor pussy in the effort to get you off. Heeseung's cock mixed with Jay's fingers on your clit had that familiar heat pooling in your belly.

"Heeseung," you moan.

"She's gonna cum, Hee," Jay interrupts, "make it good for her, yeah?"

Heeseung listens to Jay—keeping his pace steady and continuing to hit that spot in your pussy. "Dude, I can't," he groans, "she's so fucking wet—so warm, shit."

You stop your movements, clenching hard around Heeseung as you cum with a loud whine. Heeseung follows closely behind, dumping his load into you as he groans. "Jay—fuck, 'm sorry."

Heeseung's head lolls back, eyes hooded as they stare you down. They flick down to the place where the two of you meet; he watches as his cum leaks out of you and onto his thighs. His chest rises heavily with each deep breath he inhales, trying to calm down.

"I did not," he pants, "mean to cum inside her."

Jay clicks his tongue, finger slowing down on your clit when he notices you twitch from overstimulation. "Don't worry about it," he lies, trying to shrug it off like he's not absolutely seething at the fact.

You drop from your forehead onto your cheek where you rest on Heeseung's shoulder. You stare at the wall across from you, waiting for the colored dots to disappear from your vision. You reach behind you for your boyfriend, smiling when you feel him grab your hand.

"You good, baby?"

"Mhm," you hum, nodding as you tug him onto the couch next to you and Heeseung. He complies, watching you with careful eyes for any sign of discomfort. Heeseung's hands wrap around your torso, pulling you closer to his body; his cock is still buried inside of you, slowly softening.

Your hand separates itself from Jay's. Slowly, you snake it up his thigh and onto the tent in his pants. Jay quietly hisses, before gently swatting your hand away. "'m fine, pretty."

"But you deserve to cum, Jay," you softly respond.

Jay's heart simply melts at your tone—the way you always worry about him when, in reality, the only thing he cares about is your pleasure.

"I don't want you to do anything—promise." Jay smiles at you, bringing your hand to his lips as he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.

"Then you do something," Heeseung speaks up. The three of you fall silent, allowing Heeseung's words to marinate in your minds.

"What?" Jay asks, eyebrow quirked.

Heeseung finally turns to look at Jay, "Do something about it." Heeseung's eyes flick down to Jay's crotch—an obvious wet patch displayed across it—and gives him a challenging look. "Get off—to her, to me, to both of us."

Jay hates to admit how his cock jumps at Heeseung's words—at the way he suggests it. Jay swallows thickly, scoffing like it's no big deal. And it isn't, not until your hand finds its way back onto his bulge, squeezing his dick.

He moans, but lets you grope him.

"Show us, Jay," you whisper, a cheeky smile spreading across your lips.

Jay—eyebrows knitted together and eyes hooded—thinks it over. His cock hurts and watching you ride one of his best friends was genuinely one of the hottest things he'd ever seen you do. So, he sucks up his pride, swats your hand away, and watches as his own hand dips below the waistband of his sweats.

Jay hisses at the contact, letting out an open-mouthed 'ah' as he pulls his cock out from its confinements. You and Heeseung shamelessly stare at Jay's cock—long, girthy, and standing proudly in his hand.

Jay doesn't look at the two of you, he just can't bring himself to. He pumps his cock, once, twice, hissing at every movement of his hand. He's sensitive—so fucking sensitive. It almost hurts to touch himself, but fuck, does it feel good.

You and Heeseung just watch the whole ordeal; you watch as Jay's hand slides up and down his dick, watch as his chest rises and falls, watch as he desperately tries to keep his composure.

Jay moans, almost whining as he closes his eyes. He throws his head back, squeezing his cock as he shuts his eyes. "Oh, fuck," he draws out, "oh my God."

Heeseung's lips part, a soft breath that could almost be mistaken for a moan slipping past them. He shifts you in his lap, cock slowly springing back to life; you whine when you feel him start to fill you up once more.

"Oh, baby," Jay groans, "fuck, you feel so good."

"Jay, dude," Heeseung whines. He feels his hands getting restless, tightening his grip on your waist.

"Shut up," Jay says, "stop fucking," he's interrupted by a moan, "fucking talking."

You lick your lips, watching as Jay's cock begins to leak more and more. His tip ruthlessly pumps out precum, coating his red dick with the milky, white substance.

"'m almost," Jay's mouth opens wide, jaw tensing at the stretch, "fuck, fuck, fuck."

Jay cums with a whine—something guttural and not on purpose. He pumps his fist faster, drawing out a long groan as he empties his load across his hand. Jay doesn't stop until his cock softens, falling slack in his grip.

He takes a moment to breathe, turning to look at the two of you.

Heeseung's eyes are blown-out and hooded; your face is red and breath unsteady.

"Jay," Heeseung croaks out, "I think we might have a slight problem."

Jay groans in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut to quell the cloudiness hazing his mind.

"You're not fucking her again," he breathes, "go jerk off or s'mthing."

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