#jongseong

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

The clock read 2:00 AM. You shifted in your sleep, but something felt distinctly empty. The heavy, familiar weight of the arm that usually wrapped around you was gone. The space beside you was cold. Blinking your eyes open, you found the bed empty—no Jay.

Pushing the covers aside, you slipped out of bed, grabbing your silk robe before stepping out into the quiet hallway.

The door to his study was slightly ajar, spilling a faint, blue glow onto the floor. You stepped closer, peering inside. Jay was hunched in front of his monitors. His black dress shirt was a mess, the top three buttons undone in a desperate bid for comfort. His jaw was clenched tight, fighting off exhaustion, and behind the thick frames of his reading glasses, his eyes were dangerously bloodshot. A thin sheen of sweat glistened at his temples and down the long column of his neck—the air conditioning seemingly failing to combat the stifling heat of his overworking mind.

You stepped into the room without a sound. He was so intensely focused that he didn't even notice your presence until you gently tapped the edge of his mahogany desk.

He snapped his head up, blinking through the haze of fatigue. "Hm? Did I wake you?"

You didn't answer. Instead, you reached out. Your fingers tenderly brushed back the dark strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes, before your thumb trailed down to wipe the dampness from his temple and the curve of his neck. His skin was running hot, the muscles beneath your fingertips pulled taut with stress.

"That's enough, Jay," you murmured, your voice a soft, grounding whisper in the quiet room. "Your eyes are begging for a break."

At your touch, whatever remaining focus he had shattered completely. Jay let out a long, heavy exhale, the sound tearing from deep within his chest. He immediately leaned forward, wrapping both of his strong arms tightly around your waist. He buried his face into the soft fabric of your robe against your stomach, inhaling deeply. He breathed you in—a warm, intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla and the faint, comforting scent of chamomile—drawing it into his lungs like it was the only oxygen left in the room.

"I don't know... I just wanted to get it all done," he mumbled, his voice muffled and raw against your skin.

Running your fingers soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, you held him close. "The world isn't going to end if you step away for a few hours, honey," you whispered gently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "You've worked hard enough. Let it go for tonight. Right now, I just need my husband back in bed."

Slowly, Jay lifted his head. The hands resting on your waist tightened their grip, effortlessly pulling you down until you were straddling his lap sideways. All the distance between you vanished in an instant. He reached up, his large, warm hands gently cupping your face. His thumbs began a slow, mesmerizing sweep across your cheekbones. The sheer exhaustion in his eyes melted away, replaced entirely by something unbearably deep—a raw, aching devotion.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice a gravelly rasp. His gaze dropped to your lips for an agonizing second before flicking back up to your eyes. "Sorry for waking you, and making you come find me."

You shook your head slightly, winding your arms around his neck to draw him even closer. "I can't sleep when you're not there anyway."

Those words were all it took. The switch flipped. Jay stared at you with a longing so intense it felt palpable, the tension thick and heavy in the air between you. "I love you," he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "So much it aches."

He didn't waste another second before his lips captured yours. The kiss wasn't rushed, but it was incredibly demanding—a desperate, consuming claim. It was as if he was pouring every ounce of his exhaustion into you, melting it all down and trading it for the pure, intoxicating comfort of your presence.

His lips left yours with a soft, reluctant parting, only to trail a blazing path across your jawline. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your cheek before descending to the sensitive skin of your neck. With a gentle brush of his fingers, he swept the cascade of your hair over your shoulder, entirely baring the curve of your neck to him. He pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point, tracing the delicate expanse inch by inch, worshiping the skin as if it were a canvas made solely for his lips.

His large hand slid up and down your spine in slow, deliberate strokes. It was meant to be a grounding, comforting motion, yet the friction sent a rush of heat straight to your core. The air in the quiet study suddenly felt dangerously thick, the temperature rising with every shared breath.

"Jay..." you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper.

He froze. His lips hovered just a fraction of an inch from your skin, his hot breath fanning over your neck, before he slowly pulled back. His dark, hooded eyes met yours. "Hm?" he hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest.

Once again, your fingers reached up to trace his temple. Your hand trailed down his cheek, your thumb coming to rest gently against his lower lip—the very lips that had just sent a million butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You stared at his mouth for a heartbeat, feeling the soft hitch of his breath against your thumb, before lifting your gaze back to his burning eyes.

"Did you not miss me?"

A low chuckle vibrated deep in Jay's chest before his dark eyes locked onto yours once again. "Do you really want to know?"

You responded with a slow, soft nod.

Jay's gaze flicked briefly to the surface of his desk. Without a second thought, he swept a stack of files and documents to the edge with one swift motion. The very next second, his movements were incredibly fluid and smooth, yet still heavily laced with a profound gentleness. His large hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly to set you down on the edge of his desk.

"I think that's a ridiculous question when you already know the answer perfectly well, Mrs. Park," he whispered hoarsely. Jay stepped forward, positioning himself right between your parted thighs, entirely erasing whatever distance was left between you before he leaned down and captured your lips once more.

This kiss was no longer as soft as before. It was far more intense, deeply demanding, as if he wanted to devour every last ounce of your sanity. In the midst of that intoxicating, breathless kiss, Jay's fingers trailed along your shoulders, slowly slipping the silk robe off your skin and letting it pool around your elbows. The action fully exposed your frame, clad now only in a delicate satin nightgown.

But his movements didn't stop there. Instead of using his palms, Jay used the back of his hand to touch you. His knuckles traced the bare skin of your shoulder, gliding agonizingly slow past your collarbone, trailing down your torso, until they came to rest at the dip of your waist with a sweep that was entirely too gentle. The unexpected touch of the back of his hand—slightly cool and textured by the faint calluses on his fingers—sent a jolt of electricity straight through your nerves. It was a tantalizing sensation that seemed to set your skin on fire, making your breath hitch and leaving your entire body covered in goosebumps right under his complete control.

His breath hitched, and he slowly pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm with yours. The teasing touch of his knuckles faded as he finally turned his hands over, letting his large, warm palms rest fully and securely against your waist.

Instead of pulling you roughly, he stepped even closer, wrapping his arms around your lower back and burying his face gently in the crook of your neck. He let out a long, contented sigh, the sound melting into your skin. It was as if all the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders, and he had finally found his home.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are," he murmured against your skin, his voice incredibly soft, stripped of any stress or fatigue. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss just below your ear, sending a warm shiver down your spine.

One of his hands slowly slid up your back, his fingers tangling carefully in your hair to support the back of your head. He tilted your face up, his dark eyes looking at you not with burning aggression, but with an overwhelming, tender devotion that made your heart swell. Very carefully, he used his other hand to slip the fallen silk robe entirely off your arms, letting it pool around your waist, before his thumb gently caressed the delicate strap of your satin nightgown.

"I am so incredibly lucky to have you," he whispered, his thumb sweeping across your flushed cheek with so much care, as if you were the most precious thing in his life.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, agonizingly slow kiss that made you melt completely into his embrace. When he pulled back just a fraction of an inch, a soft, breathtakingly loving smile formed on his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his voice dropping to a warm, breathy whisper.

"Forget the work, forget the deadlines," he murmured softly, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "Let me take care of you. Because I promise you, my love... I am going to make sure you are in heaven tonight."

The moonlight spilled through the gap in the curtains, casting a soft, silvery glow across the tangled sheets of your bed. The quiet hum of the early morning had returned, replacing the heavy, intoxicating tension from hours ago with a deep, comfortable serenity.

You lay resting against his bare chest, your ear pressed directly over his heart, listening to its steady, calming rhythm. Jay’s arms were wrapped securely around you, holding you close as if he was afraid you might slip away into the night. His skin was incredibly warm, his breathing slow and even.

One of his hands rested on your bare shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing invisible, soothing patterns across your skin, while his chin rested gently on the top of your head.

"Are you still awake?" he mumbled, his voice a thick, sleepy rumble that vibrated against your cheek.

You hummed softly, shifting closer and tilting your head up just enough to look at his face. "Mhm. Just... comfortable."

A small, tired, but incredibly fond smile graced his lips. He shifted slightly, pulling the heavy duvet up to cover your shoulders to make sure you were warm. He tilted his head down, pressing a long, tender kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.

"Thank you," he whispered into your hair, his voice barely above a breath in the quiet room.

"For what?" you asked, your fingertip lightly tracing the outline of his collarbone.

"For coming to get me tonight. For pulling me away from that desk." He caught your wandering hand, bringing your fingers to his lips to press a soft, lingering kiss against your knuckles. His dark eyes, now heavy with sleep but full of absolute adoration, met yours. "Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to be perfect, trying to build the best life for us... I forget that my perfect life is already right here, in my arms."

Your heart fluttered wildly at his words, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. You snuggled even closer, throwing one leg over his to tangle your limbs completely. "The work will always be there tomorrow, Jay. But you need to rest."

"I know," he sighed softly, a contented sound leaving his lips as his eyes fluttered shut. He rubbed his cheek affectionately against your hair. "I know. And I promise, when we wake up... no work. Just you and me. I'll make us breakfast. Pancakes?"

"Pancakes sound perfect," you smiled against his skin, your own eyelids growing heavy under his comforting touch.

your son giggled like he understood every word, and you laughed too but you didn’t miss the thoughtful look that crossed heeseung’s face.

later that night, after tucking your boy into bed, you found yourself pressed against the doorframe, watching heeseung’s hands already sliding to your waist, lips brushing your ear. “my mom’s right, you know?”

“about what?” you teased, arching a brow.

“i know it’s only been eight months since he was born…” his voice dropped lower, eyes heavy with want, “…but i think i need a little version of you.”

jongseong (jay)

your son wasn’t just a carbon copy of jay’s looks. he inherited his personality, temper and all. even as a toddler, he carried himself with the same dramatic flare as his father.

you came home one afternoon to the sound of bickering from the kitchen. jay stood by the counter, onions half-chopped, while your little boy waved his plastic knife around like it was a sword. “dada! let me do it!”

jay only smiled, crouching down to reason with him. “it’s gonna make you cry, bub. i’m just looking out for you.”

but of course, mini-jay wasn’t having it and looked around for you to save him and give him what he wants, because he already knew at a young age, you always say yes to him. once his eyes found yours, he smiles and dropped the utensils and made a beeline for you. "mama, dada don't love me" picking him and carrying him as you made you way to jay who now had wide eyes, staring at his son in feigned offense. "doesn't love you?"

you scooped him up with a soft laugh, carrying him toward his father, who was now gaping at his son in mock offense. “doesn’t love you?” jay gasped dramatically.

“i wanted to help but he don’t wanna!” your son whined into your shoulder.

you shook your head, amused. it was like watching jay argue with a younger version of himself.

“wait till you’re older,” jay grinned, pinching his son’s cheek, “you’ll cut onions with your jawline like your old man.”

the boy only rolled his eyes in perfect imitation of him.

later that night, when the house was quiet and your son was tucked in, jay wrapped his arms around your waist, lips brushing your ear. “you know…” he whispered, smirking, “…i could give you your own twin if you’ll let me.”

jaeyun (jake)

from the fluffy waves of his hair to the warm puppy eyes and soft smile, your son was jake’s little twin. it was almost unfair how much he resembled his dad, and jake took pride in it.

“look at him,” jake cooed one afternoon, holding the baby up with a grin. “yeah, you’re gonna win over all the girls when you grow up.”

“jake!” you swatted his shoulder, quickly taking your four-month-old back. “don’t teach him that!”

“relax, honey,” he laughed, throwing an arm around you. “he’s four months old, he doesn’t understand a thing.”

you rolled your eyes, bouncing your baby gently, but of course jake wasn’t done. “besides, he looks just like me. maybe he’ll even have my charm. soft guy vibes never fail.”

you threw a pillow at him. “be quiet, you narcissist.”

his grin only widened. “fine, maybe if i get you pregnant again and that baby comes out looking like you, then you’ll finally get it.”

“excuse me? i just gave birth four months ago!”

“so what’s the threshold?”

“the what?”

“when can i give you your carbon copy?” he asked so innocently you had to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

sunghoon

the moment the newborn starting to grow, the more sunghoon was getting frightened and flabbergasted by his own creation due to the fact that it looks identical to him when he was a baby or toddler. it was creeping him out and you had to watch it unfold every day.

“why are you so shocked?” you teased as you folded laundry nearby. “he’s your dna.”

“i know, but… not even a little bit of you in him?” sunghoon muttered, studying his son’s features as the boy sat in his lap, giggling and flailing his tiny arms.

the two locked eyes for a moment, mirroring each other’s smile, and sunghoon’s jaw dropped. “i made this kid.”

you rolled your eyes. “yes, honey, you did. but try telling that to strangers. people look at me like i kidnapped him when i say i’m his mom.”

sunghoon’s gaze flickered toward you then, mischief sparking. “i could change that, you know.”

“what do you mean?” you frowned. “you’ll tell people off?”

“no.” he smirked, kissing your son’s chubby cheek. “i’ll give you another baby.”

you set down the laundry basket, giving him a look. “oh really? and you’re gonna carry and push this one out?”

he laughed, leaning back. “come to think of it, if we have a little you, i’d probably die from stress.”

your jaw dropped. “what did you just say?!”

sunoo

your son wasn’t just a mini sunoo, he was the mini sunoo. same pretty features, same spark, same sass. sunoo’s pride was sky-high. everywhere you went together, he couldn’t help but announce it.

“yeah, he’s my son.” “no dna test needed. he’s my twin.” “crazy, right? it’s like i copied and pasted.”

and it wasn’t just looks. sunoo’s chatterbox personality had passed down flawlessly. your toddler babbled in endless streams of words, and sunoo always answered back like they were having a serious conversation. the two of them could talk circles around you all day.

“good luck with that, babe,” your family often laughed.

one night, you caught him squinting at your son. “he’s too young for skincare, right?”

you gave him the look, and he immediately mirrored it. “what? i was just asking.”

you shook your head, but deep down you loved it. your two sass machines, your bundles of joy.

sunoo leaned back on the couch, smirking. “you’re just jealous your kid doesn’t look like you.”

“maybe i am,” you admitted softly.

“want a baby girl, love? i can arrange that.” he winked, and you nearly spit out your water.

jungwon

the moment you held your baby after delivery, you saw it. another kitty face. another jungwon. his little mirror.

as your son grew, the resemblance only got stronger. jungwon marveled at it daily. “aren’t you a handsome little guy?” he cooed while changing his diaper. “maybe you’ll dance like me… or try taekwondo?”

your baby gurgled happily, and jungwon smiled down at him. “don’t worry, i won’t force you into anything. i’ll just guide you, support you, love you.”

you watched from the doorway, jungwon doing his tasks not knowing you're there as he continues to talk to his baby "i always dreamed of this, having you, and now, here you are… and you look exactly like me" and the baby laughs as if he understood.

"but wouldn't it be nice to have tiny version of the woman i fell in love with? to have a little yn roaming around?" you just smile and try not to make any noise as you continued to listen in.

"your mommy's beauty is one of a kind, i might as well share and spread that beauty by adding her little twin in the world, right?"

riki

riki as a dad was exactly what you expected: stylish and playful. he was already altering denim tears and chrome hearts pieces to fit your three-year-old son, insisting his boy deserved the best.

“he already looks like me, babe,” riki grinned, crouching to help him into a pair of tiny denim pants.

your son twirled dramatically, showing them off. “don’t i look cool, mommy? like daddy?”

“see? told you,” riki smirked, patting his son’s head. “great taste runs in the blood.”

later that night, after the bedtime story and goodnight kiss, riki slid behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“as much as i adore having a mini me,” he murmured against your neck, “i’d love to see a little version of you. a daughter in pink dresses, hair all done by you… so i can fall in love with you all over again through her.”

His smirk deepens.

"Good," he murmurs, and then his hands shoot forward, gripping your thighs, yanking you toward him so fast your breath stutters. You land against him with a sharp gasp, his chest burning hot through his thin shirt, his fingers kneading the flesh of your hips like he’s getting a feel for what’s his.

His lips brush against your jaw, warm and lazy. "Then take what you need, baby," he whispers, his breath fanning against your skin.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, heat coiling low in your stomach. You shift against him, moving to straddle his waist, but his hands tighten their grip on you.

"Nuh-uh," he murmurs, voice deep, knowing, controlling.

Heeseung flips you with zero effort, guiding you up, positioning you exactly where he wants. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his head, your hands bracing against the headboard for balance. His fingertips dig into the curve of your ass, spreading you open, exposing you completely to his gaze.

His breath is hot, teasing, unbearably close.

"You were so confident a second ago," he taunts. "What happened, baby?"

You glare down at him. "I hate you."

Heeseung grins. "No, you don’t."

And then—he smacks your ass.

Hard.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips, your body jerking forward at the sting.

"Heeseung—"

"That’s my name, baby," he muses, voice mocking, low, thick with amusement and absolute fucking hunger. His other hand soothes over the spot he just slapped, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into the heated skin. "Now sit."

Your stomach tightens.

His grip on you tightens.

And then, he tugs you down onto his mouth.

Your entire body locks up, breath catching in your throat as his tongue flicks out, slow and devastating, pressing deep, licking a stripe right through your center.

"Hee—oh, fuck—"

His groan vibrates through you, his hands sliding up your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. His tongue works in slow, precise strokes, teasing your clit, circling, pulling back just to hear you whine before diving back in, unrelenting.

The feeling is overwhelming.

You try to lift yourself up, **instinct kicking in, the pleasure too much too fast—**but Heeseung’s grip tightens, yanking you back down.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he murmurs against you, the vibrations shooting through your core. "Stay still, baby."

Your hands clench into the headboard, nails digging in.

You whimper, hips bucking involuntarily as he works you over with slow, teasing flicks of his tongue, his lips closing around your clit just to suck, long and deep, pulling sounds from you that you don’t even recognize.

Another sharp slap lands against your ass.

"Did I fucking stutter?" His voice is hoarse, wrecked, vibrating through you.

Your thighs shake around him, your entire body trembling with overstimulation as he groans against your core, completely lost in you, drunk off the taste, utterly obsessed with how you’re falling apart above him.

You try again to move—not away, just to adjust, to get a moment to breathe, but Heeseung won’t let you.

"You wanted this," he reminds you, squeezing your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to leave marks. "So take it, baby."

You sob, hips rolling against his tongue, your body completely giving in, shaking, breaking under his mouth.

And Heeseung?

He’s not stopping.

Not even when you’re whimpering, wrecked, trembling so hard you can barely stay upright.

Not even when you’re falling apart so hard you can’t think, can’t speak, can only gasp, moan, beg.

His arms lock around your thighs, anchoring you in place, refusing to let you escape.

And when you finally come undone, completely shattered, gasping his name like a prayer, Heeseung moans into you, messy and wrecked, his own hips rutting into the mattress beneath you.

And still, he doesn’t let go.

Because he’s not done.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

You barely step through the door before you feel him watching you.

Jay’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, lips curled in a slow smirk. His gaze drags over you—your fitted blouse, your tight pencil skirt, the black stockings hugging every inch of your legs.

You feel his eyes burning into you, following the way your heels click against the hardwood, the way you sigh, rolling your shoulders, completely exhausted.

“Hi Honey,” he murmurs, voice low, deep, knowing. “Rough day?”

You let out a soft, tired sigh, dropping your bag by the door.

“The worst,” you mumble.

Jay hums softly, pushing off the counter, moving toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

“That so?” His hands find your waist, warm and grounding, pulling you close. “You should let me take care of you, then.”

Your stomach flips at the way he says it, his voice smooth as silk, laced with something darker.

Jay’s fingers trail down the curve of your hips, brushing the hem of your skirt.

“You wore this to work?” he asks, voice teasing, full of amusement—but there’s something else behind it, something hot and possessive.

You smirk, lifting a brow.

“Obviously.”

Jay lets out a low hum, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his body pressing against yours.

“You’re such a tease,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your jaw, moving lower, pressing soft, deliberate kisses against your neck.

“You walk around like this all day, looking like that, and you expect me to just sit here and do nothing?”

You laugh softly, but the sound catches in your throat when his fingers slip under the hem of your skirt, sliding up your thigh, teasing the lace edge of your stockings.

“Jay,” you breathe, your hands gripping his arms, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves.

He groans, his breath hot against your skin.

“You look so fucking good,” he murmurs, his fingers hooking under your stockings, tugging slightly.

“Too good.”

And then—you hear the rip.

The sharp sound of tearing fabric fills the space between you, and your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your belly.

“Jay—”

“Shhh, baby,” he soothes, his voice thick, teasing.

“You don’t need these anymore.”

His fingers trail up your now-exposed skin, his touch slow, deliberate, torturous.

And then—he drops to his knees.

Your breath catches in your throat.

His hands run up the back of your thighs, gripping, kneading, spreading.

“You’re keeping the heels on,” he murmurs. “Keep looking pretty for me, my doll.”

Your body shudders at his words, anticipation thrumming through every nerve.

“Jay—”

He groans at the way you say his name, his grip tightening.

“Sit,” he commands, his voice rough, impatient, eager.

And you do.

His hands guide you down onto his mouth, his grip firm, demanding.

The first flick of his tongue is hot, precise, devastating.

A sharp gasp rips through you, your fingers tangling in his hair, gripping tight.

“Fuck—”

Jay moans against you, completely obsessed, completely gone.

“You taste so good, baby,” he breathes, his tongue pressing into you, licking slow and deep.

Your hips roll forward instinctively, chasing the pressure, the heat, the pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” Jay groans, his voice dripping with praise, filthy and sweet all at once.

“Use me.”

Your thighs tremble, your breath coming in uneven gasps, your body already coiling tight.

“Jay, I—”

He hums against you, sucking hard, his tongue flicking, teasing, circling your clit, keeping you right on the edge.

And then—he grips your hips and pulls you down harder.

A loud, desperate moan falls from your lips, echoing through the room.

Jay growls against you, gripping tighter, keeping you still as he devours you, wrecks you, ruins you.

Your body locks up, heat crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “Let go.”

And you do.

Your orgasm slams into you, wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure, your body trembling, shaking, completely spent.

But Jay—Jay doesn’t stop.

Even when you whimper, even when you try to lift yourself away, too sensitive, too wrecked—he holds you in place.

“One more, baby,” he breathes, his tongue flicking over your clit again, sucking slow and deep.

“Give me one more, yeah?”

You sob, your body shuddering, your legs trembling.

“Jay, please—”

“You can,” he whispers, his fingers slipping inside you, curling just right, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.

“Be my good girl and give me another.”

And you do.

And then—one more.

And another.

Until you’re crying, shaking, completely spent, completely his.

Until Jay finally lets you go, finally pulls back, grinning, his lips slick with you, his eyes dark and wild.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, pressing a slow, filthy kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“You did so good for me, baby.”

Your breath catches, your body still trembling, and Jay just smirks, licking his lips.

“Still stressed?” he teases, his voice low and smug and impossibly sweet.

You glare at him weakly.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumble, voice wrecked.

Jay laughs softly, pressing one more kiss to your thigh.

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

Jake had been a problem since the second he walked through the door.

At first? It was tolerable.

A lazy backhug, his sweaty chest pressing against you, lips dragging over your shoulder. Then? He got annoying.

Whining. Pouting. Dramatically stretching in front of you, rolling his shoulders, running a hand through his damp hair like he was in a goddamn sports commercial.

But now? Now, he was downright shameless.

Walking around shirtless, sweat still cooling on his skin, grey sweats slung low on his hips, doing the absolute most to get your attention.

And you? You weren’t falling for it.

Jake groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch like you had personally wounded him. “Baby, can you just stop working for two fucking seconds?”

You didn’t even look up. “Jake, I have stuff to do.”

“You can do it later.”

“I don’t want to do it later.”

Jake huffed, his arms crossing as he slumped further into the couch. “You don’t even care that I came home all sweaty and hot for you?”

You sighed sharply. “Just ‘cause you have your tits out, Jake, doesn’t mean my work is magically done.”

Jake gasped. Like, actual, genuine offense.

His jaw dropped, his eyebrows knit together, and the pout on his face was so comically ridiculous you almost felt bad. Almost.

“You’re actually so mean,” he muttered, frowning deeper, dropping his head against the armrest like a sulking child. “Here I am, wanting to spend time with my girlfriend, and you—”

“You’re being clingy.”

Jake gasped again, louder this time. “You did not just—”

“If you’re so desperate,” you murmured, finally looking up, rolling your eyes. “Just let me sit on your face then.”

Silence.

Jake froze. His entire body tensed. His pupils blew wide, his jaw clenched, his fingers twitching against his thigh.Then? His lips curled into a grin. But not his usual boyish, easy grin—no, this one was dangerous.

“You better not be saying that just to mess with me, sweetheart,” he murmured, stepping closer, voice a low, slow rumble. “Because now?” His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face up to his. “You don’t get a choice.”

Before you could react, he moved.

One second, you were seated. The next? Jake had you in his lap, one strong arm wrapped around your waist, the other bracing against the couch as he caged you in. His chest pressed against yours, still warm from his workout, and the scent of sweat and body wash lingered between you.

“You always talk big, baby,” he murmured, leaning in, his breath hot against your cheek.

“But can you back it up?”

Before you could even answer, his lips brushed your ear, lingering, teasing. His tongue flicked out, wet and warm, tracing the curve before he sucked lightly at your earlobe. A shiver ran down your spine, and Jake felt it.

“Sensitive there?” he hummed, a smirk tugging at his lips. His voice was deep, knowing, dripping in amusement. “Bet you’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

You huffed, shifting in his hold, but that only made things worse. His grip on your waist tightened, keeping you pressed flush against him. He licked your ear again, slower this time, soaking the skin, nipping at it before whispering, “You know, baby… you should be careful what you say.”

Jake licked his lips, tilting his head. “Now, you’re gonna have to prove you meant it.”

Before you could snap back, his hands gripped your thighs, flipping you onto the bed, spreading your legs before you could even blink.

“Jake—”

“You wanna sit on my face?” he growled, his voice thick with something dark, something teasing. “Then fucking do it.”

Your stomach flipped, breath catching in your throat.

Jake grinned up at you, fingers digging into your thighs. “You always talk big, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in, lips brushing your inner thigh.

Then, without warning, he licked a long, slow stripe through your folds—hot, wet, devastating.

A wrecked gasp left your lips.

Jake moaned. Deep, filthy, almost possessive.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed, his tongue flicking against your clit, slow and deliberate. “Make a fucking mess on me.”

And you did.

Jake’s mouth worked you like he was starving, licking, sucking, spitting on your cunt just to make it sloppier.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured, his lips dragging over your swollen clit, teasing, torturing. “I could do this all night.”

You whimpered, thighs trembling.

Jake grinned against you, his hands squeezing your ass, forcing you lower. “Come on, sweetheart,” he purrs. “Grind on my face.”

Your entire body shudders.

And then—you do.

You start slow, rolling your hips, dragging yourself over his tongue.

Jake groaned, his fingers bruising your skin.

“That’s it,” he breathed, his tongue flicking against your clit, sucking, teasing, licking into you like he was completely fucking gone.

“Ride it, baby. Use me.”

You moaned, head dropping back, your body moving without thinking.

Jake’s grip tightened, his tongue moving faster, sloppier, wetter.

And then—he fucking spits on you.

A wrecked cry left your lips.

Jake laughed darkly. “Filthy fucking girl,” he muttered, voice muffled against you. “You like that?”

You whimpered, hands pulling at his hair.

Jake moaned, tongue pressing against your swollen clit, teasing, flicking, working you up so damn fast.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he taunted, his voice thick with amusement.

“You gonna make a fucking mess on my face?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure coiling hot and tight.

Jake grinned against you, sensing how close you were.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured, his tongue flicking mercilessly. “Be a good girl and fucking cum for me.”

And you did.

Your whole body locked up, thighs shaking, your hands fisting the sheets as your orgasm slammed through you.

Jake moaned against you, licking you through it, completely fucking obsessed.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered, his tongue dragging through your wetness, lapping up every drop. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

You twitched, body still trembling, still sensitive.

Jake grinned against you, pressing a messy, wet kiss to your inner thigh.

“You’re done sitting on my face,” he murmured, voice low, rough. “Now you’re gonna take my cock like a good girl.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

Sunghoon had been an absolute menace all day.

Not in an obvious way. No, that would’ve been too easy.

Instead, he was being painfully cool, effortlessly composed, acting like you didn’t exist. He wasn’t sulking—he was worse.

He was being petty as fuck.

“Hey,” he had said flatly when he walked in, not even sparing you a glance.

Then he spent the whole evening avoiding you. Moving around you like you weren’t there. No teasing, no lazy backhugs, no hands sliding down your waist when he passed by.

You tried to get him to crack, pushing against his cold front, but he was stubborn.

“You okay?” you had asked.

“I’m fine,” he had answered, so clipped, so dry, so totally fucking lying.

And now, here you were. Sitting on the bed, watching him pull his shirt off, muscles flexing under the dim bedroom light.

Still ignoring you.

You sighed, finally pushing off the bed, stepping toward him. “You’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad,” Sunghoon replied, reaching for a clean shirt.

You narrowed your eyes. “Liar.”

Sunghoon let out a sharp scoff, shaking his head. “What, you want me to be mad?”

“I want you to stop acting like you’re fine when you’re obviously not,” you said, tilting your head, arms crossing. “You’ve been weird all day.”

Sunghoon didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at you.

And that’s when it clicked.

You smirked. “This is about earlier, isn’t it?”

Sunghoon froze.

Oh. Oh. This was good.

“You’re mad,” you continued, stepping closer, voice turning teasing, “because I didn’t kiss you properly on your birthday.”

Sunghoon still refused to meet your eyes, crossing his arms. “That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” you shot back.

Sunghoon’s jaw flexed.

“All this attitude,” you mused, stepping even closer, fingers skimming over his chest, watching his muscles tense under your touch.

“Over a little kiss?”

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring, his hands twitching at his sides.

Oh, he was fighting himself. You could feel it.

“You know,” you murmured, dragging your fingers lower, letting your nails scratch lightly against his abs. “I could make it up to you.”

Finally, Sunghoon looked at you.

His gaze was dark, heavy-lidded, burning. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing closer, lips brushing his jaw.

Then? You took his hand.

And dragged it between your legs.

Sunghoon’s entire body locked up.

“I’ll even let you kiss me here,” you whispered, pressing his palm against your heat.

Sunghoon groaned. His head tilted forward, forehead resting against yours, his fingers flexing against you through your clothes.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured, voice rough, strained.

“You gonna do something about it?” you teased, breath hitching when he pressed his fingers harder, more deliberate.

Then, he moved.

Sunghoon’s hands found your hips, gripping them tight, spinning you around, pushing you backward until your knees hit the bed.

“You wanna run your mouth?” he murmured, pushing you back onto the mattress, crawling over you, his lips grazing your ear.

“Then sit on my fucking face and let me shut you up.”

Your stomach flipped.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened, his nose brushing against your neck, teeth grazing the skin.

“Go on,” he coaxed, voice dark and smooth, like he was daring you. “Since you’re so eager to let me make it up to you.”

You didn’t hesitate.

Sunghoon let you straddle him, settling himself against the pillows, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Take these off,” he muttered, tugging at your shorts.

You obeyed.

And then? Sunghoon dragged you down onto his mouth.

You gasped. Sunghoon moaned.

The vibration shot straight through you. His tongue was hot, wet, and fucking precise, flicking against your clit, sucking, teasing, his hands tightening around your thighs, keeping you from running away.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders.

Sunghoon groaned against you, sucking harder, his grip dragging you further onto his face.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice muffled against you. “Make a fucking mess on me.”

You whimpered, hips moving instinctively.

Sunghoon grinned against your pussy, tongue working even faster.

“Yeah?” he taunted, his hands guiding your movements, rolling your hips against his mouth. “You wanna ride it, baby?”

You choked on a gasp.

Sunghoon’s tongue flicked over your clit, relentless, devastating, completely fucking addicting.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice dripping with need.

You were so close, so close—

And then? Sunghoon stopped.

Your head snapped down. “What—”

Sunghoon licked his lips, smirking up at you. “That’s for earlier.”

You gaped. “Are you fucking serious?”

Sunghoon chuckled darkly, gripping your thighs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh.

“You want more?” he murmured, voice slow, taunting.

“Yes,” you gasped.

“Then,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your soaked core, “beg.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

You weren’t sure how he was going to react.

Sunoo could be so unpredictable—so effortlessly smug and teasing one moment, then adorably flustered the next.

So, naturally, you tested the waters.

“Hey,” you murmured, tilting your head, watching him stretch on the bed, scrolling through his phone.

Sunoo barely glanced up. “Hey, baby.”

You hesitated—just for a second—before going for it.

“You ever wanna try something different?”

That got his attention.

He arched a brow, locking his phone, turning toward you fully. “Oh? Like what?”

You shrugged, keeping your tone light, casual. “I dunno. Maybe… you wanna try letting me sit on your face?”

Silence.

Then—Sunoo blinked.

Once. Twice.

Then?

A slow, deliberate smirk spread across his lips.

He leaned back against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head, looking up at you like you were his new favorite game.

“You wanna sit on my face, baby?” he repeated, his voice dripping with amusement.

You blinked at his lack of hesitation. “Yeah?”

Sunoo hummed. “You asking or telling?”

You felt heat creep up your neck. “I mean…”

Sunoo grinned. “You’re cute when you try to act all shy.”

You huffed. “Forget it.”

“Oh, no, no,” he interrupted, sitting up fully, reaching for your wrist, pulling you closer. “Now I’m interested.”

His hands found your waist, dragging you onto his lap, his nose brushing against yours, his voice dropping.

“You want me to be underneath you?” he murmured, his fingers slipping beneath your shirt, featherlight against your skin. “You wanna grind on my mouth, baby?”

Your stomach flipped.

“Sunoo,” you muttered, suddenly feeling way too warm.

He grinned wider.

“Okay,” he breathed, his voice light, teasing, completely unbothered. “Try it.”

You blinked. “Wait—what? Just like that?”

Sunoo arched a brow. “You wanted me to say no?”

“No, but—”

“Baby,” he interrupted, tilting his head, watching you like you were being ridiculous. “You think I wouldn’t wanna eat you out?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Sunoo laughed.

“Come here,” he murmured, pulling you forward, guiding you until you were straddling his chest.

You swallowed hard, heat coiling in your stomach. “You sure?”

Sunoo looked up at you, gaze dark, lips parting slightly.

“You’re gonna ask me that after I just told you to sit?” he taunted, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts.

Then?

He grinned. “You’re adorable.”

And before you could say anything else, he flipped you over, settling between your legs, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss over your inner thigh.

“Let me start you off slow,” he murmured, his breath warm, his fingers already dragging your shorts down.

“You can sit on my face after I make you beg for it.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

One Week Without Sex.

It felt like a fucking eternity.

Jungwon wasn’t handling it well.

At first, he had laughed, cocky and self-assured, thinking you wouldn’t actually go through with it. Thinking you’d cave before he did.

But then?

You stopped sleeping in the same bed.

That was night one.

Night two was him calling out for you, only to be met with silence.

By night four, he was waiting up for you, sitting stiffly on the couch, hoping you’d at least look at him when you walked past.

By night seven, he had completely lost it.

And now?

Jungwon was on his fucking knees.

Begging.

The moment you stepped into the bedroom, he moved—instinctual, desperate, unthinking—his hands grabbing at your hips, his lips brushing against your stomach as he pressed his forehead against you.

“Baby,” he rasped, voice rough, his grip tight. “Please.”

You didn’t even acknowledge him.

Instead, you sighed, reaching for your nightshirt like he wasn’t kneeling at your feet, ready to worship you.

“No,” you said simply.

Jungwon let out a low, frustrated groan, his fingers digging into your skin, his grip possessive, unyielding. “You’ve made your point, I get it,” he muttered, voice hoarse, strained with frustration.

“You really think so?” you mused, tilting your head.

“Yes,” he said immediately, his hands sliding under your shirt, feeling your warmth, desperate for contact. “Loud and clear. I was an idiot. A selfish, ungrateful idiot. I didn’t appreciate you, and now I’m fucking miserable.”

“You’re miserable?” you mused, arching a brow.

Jungwon let out a rough, humorless laugh. “You have no fucking idea.”

Your fingers traced his jaw, nails dragging along his cheekbones as you tilted his chin up. His lips were parted, his pupils blown wide, his breath shaky.

“You really want me that bad, baby?”

Jungwon exhaled sharply. “Yes.”

“How bad?”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

A slow, satisfied hum left your lips as you dragged your thumb over his lower lip, feeling the way his tongue darted out slightly, like he wanted to taste you.

“You want me that bad?”

Jungwon nodded frantically.

“Then make me squirt on your face, Jungwon,” you purred, tracing his lips, feeling the way his breath stuttered.

“And if you can’t?”

You leaned in, whispering against his lips, your voice dripping with challenge.

“No sex for two more weeks.”

Jungwon froze.

And then?

He moved.

His hands shot to your waist, dragging you onto the bed, his movements impatient, rough, completely frenzied.

“You think I can’t do it?” he muttered, voice low, dangerous, almost amused.

“You really think I won’t make you fucking cry?”

Your stomach flipped.

“You got a lot to prove, baby,” you teased, running a hand through his hair, tugging lightly.

Jungwon’s jaw clenched.

“I fucking hate you,” he breathed.

Then?

He lowered himself again.

And kissed every inch of you.

Slow. Worshiping.

His lips brushed over your knees, your thighs, your stomach, your hips—everywhere but where you needed him most.

“You smell so fucking good,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot, his fingers tight on your thighs.

“Jungwon—”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, his fingers tightening, dragging you down onto his mouth.

And fucking destroyed you.

His tongue flicked against you—slow, deliberate—before he sucked, deep and wet, his grip keeping you locked in place.

“Fuck—” you gasped, your thighs trembling against his head.

Jungwon moaned against you, sucking harder, flicking his tongue against your clit in devastating, unrelenting strokes.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured, voice thick with hunger.

His words only made the pleasure coil tighter in your stomach.

You tried to lift yourself slightly, but Jungwon wasn’t having it.

“Stay,” he growled, his fingers tightening, dragging you back down.

Your back arched as he slipped a finger inside you—then another—stretching you, curling them just right, his tongue flicking faster, more precise.

“Oh my god—”

“You can take more,” he murmured, voice low, teasing, completely in control.

His fingers curled again, pressing right against that spot—

You sobbed.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed, his lips slick, his tongue relentless. “Come on, I want it—need it. Give it to me.”

And just like that—you shattered.

Your entire body seized up, thighs shaking, your hands yanking at his hair as pleasure crashed over you in violent, uncontrollable waves.

Jungwon moaned against you, drinking in every last drop, lapping up everything, sucking gently as aftershocks racked through your body.

“Too much—” you whimpered, trying to move, trying to pull away.

Jungwon only smirked against you, his fingers still lazily teasing your entrance.

“One more,” he rasped, his voice dark, commanding. “Come on, baby. One more for me.”

His tongue flicked one more time, his fingers curling—

And you sobbed.

When you finally slumped against the bed, panting, trembling, completely spent— Jungwon pulled back, his lips swollen, his mouth slick, his eyes dark and feral.

And then?

He smirked.

“You were saying?” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction.

You blinked, still dazed.

“Shut up,” you muttered, grabbing his jaw, pulling him up to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

Jungwon grinned against your mouth, his hands already sliding over your body again.

“Say it,” he whispered.

You groaned, rolling your eyes.

“Fine.”

His smirk widened.

“Sex ban is over, baby.”

Jungwon froze.

And then?

His eyes turned glassy.

“Thank you,” he whispered, almost reverently, but then—he kept going.

“Thank you, God,” he mumbled, kissing your jaw.

“Thank you, universe,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your throat.

“Thank you, moon and stars and planets,” he sighed, sucking a mark onto your collarbone.

“Thank you, higher powers, divine forces, ancient magic—”

“Jungwon,” you snapped, glaring at him.

His smirk returned instantly.

“Sex ban is over, baby.”

Jungwon chuckled, pressing another slow, teasing kiss to your lips.

“Good,” he murmured, voice thick with pure satisfaction.

“Because I’m not fucking done with you yet.”

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

“You sure you can handle it?”

Riki’s voice was so fucking cocky it made your stomach flip. He sat at the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, looking at you like you were a challenge he was ready to destroy. His black tee was rumpled from practice, his sweats sitting low on his hips, his usual lazy grin pulling at his lips as he leaned back on his palms.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t sure.”

His grin widened. “Then come here, baby.”

You climbed onto his lap first, your hands bracing against his shoulders, rolling your hips against him once just to tease. His hands immediately went to your waist, fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks, but when you tried to move higher—actually position yourself over his face—he stopped you.

“Not so fast,” he murmured, tilting his head. “You think you can just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you just like that?”

You blinked, pulling back slightly. “Isn’t that the point?”

His grip tightened, forcing your thighs apart even wider as he dragged you closer, his breath ghosting against your skin. “No, sweetheart,” he mused, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. “The point is making you beg for it.”

Then?

He sank his teeth into you.

Your breath hitched, your fingers flying into his hair on instinct. “Riki—”

He just chuckled, lazy and smug, biting down again, harder, his tongue following after to soothe over the spot, his eyes dark as he glanced up at you.

“What, baby?” he murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh, his hands keeping you spread wide.“Feeling a little desperate now?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. “Riki, stop teasing—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He grinned against your skin, his lips dragging higher, nipping at the sensitive flesh, making you jolt. “C’mon, you wanted to sit on my face, didn’t you?”

Your stomach clenched.

“Then do it,” he challenged, his voice low, taunting.

His hands slid down, gripping your ass, dragging you higher—and finally, finally, you settled over him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his head.

“You good?” you murmured, even as your breath hitched when you felt his lips skim against your inner thigh again.

Riki just smirked, his hands tightening.

“Baby,” he murmured, voice low, deep, teasing. “You’re shaking.”

Before you could snap at him, his mouth was on you—hot, wet, and fucking relentless.

Your entire body arched, your hands flying to the headboard as his tongue flicked against your clit, swirling slow at first, then faster, teasing, sucking lightly before pulling back just to hear your whimper.

“Shit—”

Riki hummed against you, his grip unrelenting as he pulled you down harder against his mouth.

“You wanted this, yeah?” he murmured, his voice pure sin, thick with amusement as he licked you again, slow and filthy.

“You wanted to ride my face so bad—so do it.”

Your thighs clenched around his head, your body moving on its own, grinding down against his tongue as the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements. “Keep going, baby. Use me.”

Your breath was ragged, your body trembling as his tongue flicked against your clit faster, his hands keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

It was too much. It was not enough. It was fucking everything.

And just when you were so close, when you could feel it building—

He pulled away.

Your eyes snapped open, frustration washing over you instantly. “Riki—”

“Mm?” He smirked, his lips shining, his tongue flicking out to lick them clean.

“You—” You could barely speak, your breath still uneven, your body aching. “You fucking asshole—”

He just grinned, tilting his head. “What? You said you wanted to sit on my face. You never said I had to let you cum.”

Your entire body burned with frustration and desire and the urge to slap him senseless.

“You’re the worst,” you growled.

Riki just chuckled, dark and teasing.

Park Jongseong

— Immediately gets up to you. Do you need something? Are you hurt? His protective instincts kick in.

“Park Jongseong.”

In an instant, his head snaps up in confusion, looking over to you. “Angel?”

“Park Jongseong.” You repeat again and he stands, walking to you, his legs aiding in him coming to you in seconds. “What’s wrong, are you hurt, did I do something wrong? Baby?”

You bite your lip and feel his hands cupping your cheeks as you let out a giggle, much to his relief and slight annoyance as he sighs. “Okay, so you’re just playing a stupid prank..”

“Of course I’m not, you’re in trouble, mister.” You retort, however still smiling as he furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

You smile wider and hold his hand in yours, pulling him close. “Well, you owe me a good amount of cuddles and let’s see.. a shopping spree and you help me pick out new outfits.”

Jay smiles softly with a faint roll of his eyes, and brings your hand up to kiss.

“Fine, I can do that, love. Anything for you.”

Sim Jaeyun

— Um,, what?.. did you just call him by his full name?..

“Sim Jaeyun.”

An absolute lost puppy at the mention of his full name. No, “Yunie”, not even a “Jake” from you. Did he do something wrong?

“angel.” Jake’s voice is quiet and soft, his puppy eyes looking up at you with confusion and just a hint of sadness. You had to bite your lip from smiling.

As you get closer to him on the couch, Jake reaches up to grab your hand, bringing it to cup his face as he pouts. “Did I do something?”

‘He’s so cute- I’m going to hell for this.’ You thought as you keep up your face.

“Sim Jaeyun.” You repeated, much to his heartbreak. “Baby?”

Eventually, you couldn’t hold it anymore and immediately let out your laughs as you pull the blonde in for a tight hug. “Yunie, I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong, baby.”

Despite your reassurance, you place a smother of kisses on his face which soon causes him to relax as he yanks you into his lap and wraps his arms around you.

“Hmph, don’t ever do that again, my love.”

Park Sunghoon

— It won’t even register that you called him by his full name, he’ll just go along with what you said.

“Park Sunghoon, what did you do?”

Sunghoon, who’s absentmindedly just on his phone, laying with his legs hanging off the armrest, replies back lazily. “I did the dishes like you asked.”

“You—“ Glancing over to the sink, you see the sink empty and the rack of clean dishes on the side. “Did.. okay, but did you—“

“Yeah, I did the laundry. I asked Jay for some help. I also got the mail and I cleaned the bathroom like you asked.” Sunghoon continues to list, making you stunned as you look around the house. “Oh.. well thank you, Hoonie.” You smile warmly at Sunghoon, heading to the kitchen, opening the freezer.

“Let’s watch some movies and enjoy some ice.. cream..?..” You pause and look up and down the shelves, finding your precious ice cream missing. “Babe? Where’s my leftover ice cream?”

Sunghoon looks up and calls out. “Oh, there was a bit left so I ate it after I did everything. I got hungry.”

You close the freezer and look to him. “You what?”

“I ate it.”

“… Yah, Park Sunghoon.”

This time, it fully registered and with your tone, Sunghoon quickly scrambled to his feet and raced upstairs. “I’m sorry!”

“SUNGHOON!”

“I SAID IM SORRY!”